The Honour of a LONDON PRENTICE.
Being an Account of his matchless Manhood and brave Adventures, done
by him in Turkey, and by what means he married the King's Daughter
of the same Country, etc.
To the Tune of, All you that love Goodfellows, etc.
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OF a worthy London Prentice,
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my purpose is to speak,
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And tell his brave adventures,
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done for his Country sake;
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Seek all the world about,
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and you shall hardly find,
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A man in valour to exceed
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a prentice gallant mind:
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He was born in Cheshire,
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the chief of Men was he,
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From thence brought up to London,
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a prentice for to be;
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A merchant on the bridge,
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did like his service so,
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That for three years his factor,
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to Turkey he should go.
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And in that famous country,
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one year he had not been,
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E'er he by tilt maintained
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the honour of his Queen;
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Elizabeth the Princess,
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he nobly did make known,
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To be the Phenix of the world,
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and none but she alone.
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In armour richly guilded,
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well mounted on a steed,
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One score of Knights most hardy,
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one day he made to bleed;
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And brought them all to ground,
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who proudly did deny,
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Elizabeth to be the Pearl,
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of Princely Majesty
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The King of that same country
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thereat began to frown,
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And will'd his son, there present,
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to pull this youngster down;
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Who ot his father's words,
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these boasting speeches faid
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Thou art a traytor, English boy,
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and hast the traytor plaid.
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I am no boy nor traytor,
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thy Speeches I defie,
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For which i'll be revenged
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upon thee by and by:
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A London Prentice still
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shall prove as good a man,
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As any of your Turkish Knights,
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do all the best you can.
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And there withal he gave him
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a box upon the ear,
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Which broak his neck asunder,
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as plainly doth appear:
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Now know proud Turk, quoth he,
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I am no English boy,
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That can with one small box o'th ear
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the Prince of Turks destroy.
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When as the King perceived
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his Son so strangely slain,
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His soul was sore afflicted
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with more then mortal pain;
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And in revenge thereof,
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he swore that he should dye,
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The cruel'st death that ever man
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beheld with mortal eye.
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Two Lions were prepared
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this Prentice to devour,
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Near famish'd up with hunger
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ten days within the tower,
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To make them more fierce
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and eager of their pray,
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To glut themselves with humane gore
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upon this dreadful day.
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The appointed time of torment
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at length grew near at hand
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Where all the noble Ladies
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and Barons of the land,
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Attended on the King,
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to see this Prentice slain,
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And buried in the hungry maws
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of these fierce lyons twain.
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Then in his shirt of Cambrick,
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with silk most richly wrought,
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This worthy London Prentice
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was from the prison brought,
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And to the lyons given
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to stanch their hunger great.
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Which had not eat in ten days space
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not one small bit of meat.
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But God that knows all secrets,
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the matter so contriv'd,
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That by this young man's valour
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they were of life depriv'd;
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For being faint for food,
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they scarcely could withstand
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The noble force, and fortitude,
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and courage of his hand:
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For when the hungry lyons
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had cast on him their eyes,
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The elements did thunder
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with the eccho of their cries;
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And running all amain
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his body to devour,
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Into their throats he thrust his arms,
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with all his might and power;
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From thence by manly valour,
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their hearts he tore in sunder,
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And at the King he threw them,
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to all the peoples wonder:
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This have I done, quoth he,
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for lovely England's sake,
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And for my Country's Maiden Queen,
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much more will undertake.
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But when the King perceived
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his wrathful lyons hearts
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Afflicted with great terrour,
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his rigor soon reverts;
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And turned all his hate
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into remorse and love,
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And said, It is some Angel
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sent down from heaven above.
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No, no, I am no Angel;
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the courteous young man said,
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But born in famous England,
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where Gods Word is obey'd;
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Assisted by the heavens,
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who did me thus befriend,
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Or else they had most cruelly
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brought here my life to end
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The King in heart amazed,
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lift up his eyes to heaven,
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And for his foul offences,
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did crave to be forgiven:
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Believing that no land
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like England may be seen,
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No people better governed
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by vertue of a Queen.
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So taking up this young man,
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he pardon'd him his life,
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And gave his daughter to him
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to be his wedded wife,
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Where then they did remain,
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and live in quiet peace,
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In spending of their happy days,
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in joy and lov's encrease.
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