A newe Ballade, declaryng the daungerous shootyng of the Gunne at the Courte.
To the tune of Sicke and sicke.
Weepe, weepe, still I weepe, and shall doe till I dye:
To thinke upon the Gunne was shot, at Court so daungerouslie.
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THe seventene daie of Julie laste, at evenyng toward night,
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Our noble queene Elizabeth, tooke barge for her delight:
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And bad the watermen to row, her pleasure she might take
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About the River to and fro, as muche as thei could make.
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Weepe, weepe, still I weepe, and shall doe till I dye:
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To thinke upon the Gun was shot, at court so dangerously.
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And of her Counsell with her grace, were nobles two or three,
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As fittest were to be in place, regardyng their degree:
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The Frenche Ambassadour likewise, to comon with her grace,
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Of waightie causes satte with her, eche one in comely place.
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Weepe, weepe. etc.
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But when her grace an hower or twoo, had past to take the aire,
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Returnyng readyng on a booke, she saied rowe soft and faire:
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Wherby as God the matter wrought, the slacknesse and the staie,
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Softely she paste and nothyng thought, of gunshotte anywaie.
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Weepe, weepe, etc.
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But all this while upon the Themes, in a schullers Boate un-knowne
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A wretched felloe got a gun, that was none of his owne
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And shot a bullet twoo or three, at randon all about,
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And gave no greate regard to see, what time the queene went out.
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Weepe, weepe. etc.
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But as her grace came passyng by, had given his peece a charge,
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And there out let a bullet flie, that hitte one in the Barge:
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A waterman through bothe his armes, as he began to rowe,
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That he cried out upon his harmes, wherat the queene was woe.
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Weepe, weepe etc.
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Herself in sight and presence by, when that the bullet came,
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She sawe hym hurt, she sawe him fall, yet shrunck not at the same:
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Neither made she any fearfull shewe, to seme to bee dismaied,
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Nor seemed to the Embassadour, of anythyng afraied.
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Weepe, weepe etc.
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But havyng suche a mightie mynde, as passeth tonge to tell,
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She stept unto the wounded man, and bad hym take it well:
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His gusshyng blood could not abathe, her noble courage then,
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But she was readier to give helpe, then all the noblemen.
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Weepe, weepe etc.
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But what her highnesse saied and did, in that so sodaine feare,
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Hereafter in my sorie tale, the substaunce you shall heare:
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Let boats go out and fetche hym in she saied, that this hath doon,
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And quickly was the persone brought, that so discharged the gunne
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Weepe, weepe, etc.
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The noble councellors moste abroad, to whom these tidyngs came
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Made hast to court with trembling harts, to thinke upon the same
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Applaudyng God upon their knees, moste humbly in their place,
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With teares of joye that bitter bale, had so escaped her grace.
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Weepe, weepe etc.
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His name was Thomas Appletree, of Courte a servyng man,
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Whiche was no little greef to see, to his good maister than:
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He was committed to the gaile, at the Counsellers grave regarde,
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That thei might judge what vilest death, were fit for his reward
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Weepe, weepe etc.
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With blubryng teares it is no bote, to tell the weepyng eyes,
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That were full woe of suche a shot, where all our saftie lyes:
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The bullet came so nere her grace, within sixe foote at least,
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Was never suche a cursed case, by suche a wilfull beast.
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Weepe, weepe etc.
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Wherefore it was decreed and judged, by all the counsell grave,
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That hangyng was to good a death, for suche a wretch to have:
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A gibbet was set up in haste, against the Court full nye,
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Where this unhappie Appletree, was pointed for to dye.
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Weepe, weepe etc.
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And on the Tuesdaie following, then this wicked prisoner came,
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Well garded with the Marshalls men, to hang upon the same:
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His maister standyng on the banke, to heare what he could saie,
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He humbly fell upon his knees, and mercie did hym praie.
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Weepe, weepe etc.
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Would God thou hadst never served me, quod he with woful looke,
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But God he saied forgive it thee, that cursed marke thou tooke:
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And after praier saied and doen, on the ladder as he stood,
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He tooke his death before them all, he was a subject good.
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Weepe, weepe, etc.
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And never ment to hurt her grace, nor any in the Barge,
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Nor ment to shoote in any place, to hurte with any charge:
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But wished he never had been borne, for his good masters sake,
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Whom he had made a wofull man, and no amendes could make.
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Weepe, weepe etc.
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For troth it was and truthe it is, the Queene & Councell knowe
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Not willyngly, though wittyngly, he let the bullet goe:
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Whiche matter hath been sifted so, it moveth more her grace,
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To let the passion of it goe, the meekelier in his case.
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Weepe, weepe etc.
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The Queene that sawe this Sacrifice, a ready wretch to dye,
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Whose pittie pleadeth pardon still, put forthe her princely eye:
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And sent the Captaine of her Gard, a Counseler grave and wise,
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To make the facte and favour knowne, as he could beste devise.
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Weepe, weepe, etc.
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Who gave a thundring peale of grace, the prisoners fault to showe
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And all the people in the place, what prince thei had to knowe:
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What courage in her noble grace, in perill did appeare,
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Before the Frenche Embassadours face, in suche a sodain feare.
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Weepe, weepe, etc.
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And tolde againe if that mishap, had happened on her grace,
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The staie of true Religion, how perlous were the cace:
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Whiche might have turnde to bloody warres, of strange & forein foes,
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Alas how had wee been a curste, our comforte so to lose.
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Weepe, weepe etc.
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Then of the mercie of her grace, her subjects lives to save,
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By whom these xx. yeres in peace, suche quiet lives wee have:
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The teares fell doune on every side, and aloude the people crie,
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The almightie long preserve her grace, to governe prosperouslie.
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Weepe, weepe, etc.
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And laste of all he saied againe, marke yet this piteous queene,
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For all this vile unhappie facte, so leudely doen and seene:
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Retournes to her inured course, of mercie to forgive,
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That this accursed shall not dye, but pardons hym to live.
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Weepe, weepe etc.
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And then to heare the people shoute, and see them clapt their hands
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Who would have torne his fleshe before, being in hangmans hands
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To see the goodnesse of her grace, to suche greate pitie bent,
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It made the stoniest harte of all, astonied to lament.
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Weepe, weepe etc.
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The counseler that the pardon brought, then knelyng on his kne
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And every subjecte as thei ought, kneeled as well as he:
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And saied a praier for her grace, upon the dolefull grounde,
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Whereof the peoples sighyng sherles, above the skies rebounde.
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Weepe, weepe, etc.
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All lovyng subjectes learne to knowe, your dueties to our quene,
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By lande and water where ye goe, that no suche deede be sene:
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But praie to God that rules the skies, her highnesse to defende,
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To raigne with him perpetually, when her highnes life shall ende.
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Weepe, weepe, still I weepe, and shall doe till I dye:
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To thinke upon the gun was shot, at court so dangerously.
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