The Seven Champions of Christendom:
Being a Compendious History of their Lives and Actions, etc.
To the Tune of the Christian Warriours.
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NOw of the Seven Champions here,
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my Purpose is to write;
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To shew how they with sword and spear,
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put many Foes to flight:
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Distressed Ladies to release,
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and Captives bound in Chains;
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That Christian glory to encrease,
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which evermore remains.
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First, I give you to understand,
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that Great St. George by Name,
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Was the true Champion of our Land,
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and of his Birth and Fame;
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And of his noble Mother's Dream,
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before that he was born,
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The which to her did clearly seem
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her Days would be forlorn:
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This was her Dream, That she did bear
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a Dragon in her Womb;
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Which griev'd this noble Lady fair,
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Death must be her Doom.
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This sorrow she cou'd not conceal,
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so dismal was her Fear,
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So that she did the same reveal
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unto her Husband dear:
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Who went for to enquire straight
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of an Inchantress,
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When knocking at her Iron Gate,
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her Answer it was this:
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'Thy Lady shall bring forth a Son,
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whom, in Tract of Time,
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'Great noble Actions shall be done;
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will to Honour climb:
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he shall be in Banners wore,
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Truth I will maintain;
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'Your Lady she shall die before
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see her Face again.
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His Leave he took, and home he went,
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his Wife departed lay;
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But that which did his Grief augment,
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the Child was stole away.
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Then did he travel in Despair,
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where soon with grief he dy'd,
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While the young Child, his Son and Heir,
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did constantly abide
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With the wise Lady of the Grove,
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in her enchanted Cell;
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Amongst the Woods he oft did rove,
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his Beauty pleas'd her well.
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Blinded with Love she did impart,
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upon a certain Day,
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To him her conning magick Art,
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and where six Champions lay,
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Within a brazen Castle strong,
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by an enchanted sleep,
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And where they had continued long,
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she did the Castle keep.
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She taught and shew'd him e'rything,
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through being free and fond,
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Which did her fatal Ruin bring;
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for with a Silver Wand
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He clos'd her up into a Rock,
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by giving one small stroak;
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So took Possession of her stock,
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and the Inchantment broke.
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Those Christian Champions being freed
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from their inchanted state,
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Each mounted on his prancing steed,
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and took to Travel strait;
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Where we will leave them to pursue
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kind Fortune's favours still,
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To treat of our own Champions, who
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did Courts with Wonders fill:
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For as he came to understand,
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at an old Hermit's Cell,
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How all the vast AEgyptian Land
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a Dragon, fierce and fell,
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Threatn'd the Ruin of them all,
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by his devouring Jaws;
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His sword releas'd them from that thral,
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and soon remov'd the Cause.
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This dreadful Dragon must destroy
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a Virgin e'ry Day,
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Or else with Stinks he'll them annoy,
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and many thousands slay.
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At length the King's own Daughter dear,
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for whom the Court did mourn,
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Was brought to be devour'd here;
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for she must take her turn.
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The King by Proclamation said,
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If any hardy Knight
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Could free this fair young Royal Maid,
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and slay the Dragon quite,
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Then should he have her for his Bride,
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and, after Death, likewise,
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His Crown and Kingdom too beside:
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St. George he won the Prize.
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When many hardy stroaks he had dealt,
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and could not pierce his Hide,
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He run his sword up to the hilt,
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in at the Dragon's side;
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By which he did his Life destroy,
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which cheer'd the drooping King;
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This caus'd a universal Joy,
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sweet Peals of Bells did ring.
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The Daughter of a King for Pride
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transform'd into a Tree
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Of Mulberries, which Dennis 'spy'd,
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and being hungry,
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Of that fair Fruit he eat a part,
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and was transform'd likewise
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Into the fashion of a Hart,
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for seven Years precise.
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At which he long bewail'd the Loss
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of manly Shape, then goes
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To him his true and trusty Horse,
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and brings a blushing Rose,
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By which the magick spell was broke,
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and both was fairly freed
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From the inchanted heavy Yoak;
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they then in Love agreed.
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Now we come to St James of Spain,
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who slew a mighty Boar,
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In hopes that he might Honour gain,
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but he must die therefore;
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Who was allow'd his Death to choose,
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which was by Virgins Darts;
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But they the same did all refuse,
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so tender was their Hearts.
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The King's Daughter at length by Lot,
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was doom'd to work his woe,
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From her fair Hands a fatal Shot
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out of a golden Bow,
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Must put a Period to the Strife,
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at which, Grief did her seize;
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She of her Father beg'd his Life,
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upon her bended Knees:
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Saying; My gracious Sovereign Lord,
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and honoured Father dear,
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He well deserves a large Reward,
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then be not so severe:
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Give me his life: He grants the Boon:
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and then without delay,
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This Spanish Champion e're 'twas Noon
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rid with her quite away.
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Now come we to St. Anthony,
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a Man with valour fraught,
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The Champion of fair Italy,
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who many wonders wrought:
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First he a mighty Giant slew,
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the Terror of Mankind:
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Young Ladies fair, pure Virgins too,
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this Giant kept confin'd
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Within his Castle Walls of Stone,
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and Gates of solid Brass,
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Where seven Ladies made their Moan,
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but out they could not passe
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Many brave Lords and Knights likewise
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to free them did engage;
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Who fell a bleeding Sacrifice
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to this fierce Giants Rage.
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Fair Daughters to a Royal King,
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yet Fortune after all,
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Did our renowned Champion bring
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to free them from their thral;
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Assisted by the Hand of Heaven,
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he ventur'd Life and Limb;
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Behold, the fairest of the Seven,
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she fell in Love with him.
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That Champion good St. Andrew,
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the famous Scottish Knight,
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Dark gloomy Deserts travell'd through,
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where Phebus gave no Light,
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Haunted with Spirits, for a while
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his weary Course he steers;
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Till Fortune blest him with a smile,
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and shook off all his fears.
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This Christian Champion travell'd long,
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till at the length he came
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Unto the Giant's Castle strong,
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Great Blanderon by Name,
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Where the King's Daughters were transform'd,
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into the Shape of Swans:
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Though them he freed, their Father storm'd,
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but he his Malice shuns:
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For though five hundred armed Knights
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did straight beset him round,
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Our Christian Champion with them fights,
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till on the Heathen Ground
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Most of those Pagans bleeding lay;
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which much perplext the King,
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The Scottish Champion clears the way,
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which was a glorious thing.
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St. Patrick of Ireland,
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that noble Knight of Fame,
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He travell'd as we understand,
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till at the length he came
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Into a Grove were Satyrs dwelt,
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where Ladies he beheld,
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Who had their raged Fury felt,
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and was with sorrow fill'd.
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He drew his sword, and did maintain
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a sharp and bloody Fray,
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Till the Ring-leader he had slain;
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the rest soon fled away.
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This done, he ask'd the Ladies fair,
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who was in silks array'd,
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From whence they came, and who they were?
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they answer'd him and said,
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We are all Daughters to a King,
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whom a brave Scottish Knight,
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Did out of tribulation bring:
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he having took his Flight,
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Now after him we are in Quest,
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St. Patrick then replies,
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He is my Friend, I cannot rest
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till I find him likewise:
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So Ladies, if you do intend
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to take your Lot with me,
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This sword of mine shall you defend
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from savage Cruelty:
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The Ladies freely gave Consent
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to travel many Miles:
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Through shady Groves and Woods they went,
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in search of Fortunes smiles.
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The Christian Champion David went
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to the Tartarian Court,
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Whereat their tilt and turnament,
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and such like royal sport,
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He overthrew the only Son
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of the Count Palatine;
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This noble Action being done,
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his Fame began to shine.
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The young Count's sad and sudden Death,
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turn'd all their joys to grief;
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He bleeding lay, bereav'd of Breath,
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the Father's Son in chief.
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But Lord and Ladies blaz'd the fame,
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of our brave Champion bold,
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Saying, They ought to write his Name
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in Characters of Gold.
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Here have I writ a fair Account
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of each heroick Deed,
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Done by these Knights, which will surmount
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all those that shall succed.
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The ancient Chronicles of Kings,
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e're since the World begun,
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Cann't boast of such renowned Things,
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as these brave Knights have done.
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St. George he was for England,
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St. Dennis was for France;
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St. James for Spain, whose valiant Hand
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did Christian Fame advance;
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St. Anthony for Italy,
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Andrew for Scots ne'r fails,
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Patrick to stand for Ireland,
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St. David was for Wales.
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Thus have you those stout Champions Name
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in this renowned Song;
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Young captive Ladies bound in Chains,
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confin'd in Castles strong,
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They did by Knightly Prowess free,
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true Honour to maintain:
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Then let their lasting Memory
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from Age to Age remain.
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