A joyful new Ballad, declaring the happie ob-
taining of the great Galleazzo, wherein Don Pietro de Valdez was the chiefe, through the
mightie power and providence of God, being a speciall token of his gracious and fatherly
goodnes towards us, to the great encouragement of all those that willingly fight in the defence of his
gospel and our good Queene of England.
To the Tune of Mounseurs Almaigne.
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O Noble England,
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fall downe upon thy knee:
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And praise thy God with thankfull hart
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which still maintaineth thee.
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The forraine forces,
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that seekes thy utter spoile:
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Shall then through his especiall grace
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be brought to shamefull foile.
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With mightie power
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they come unto our coast:
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To overrunne our countrie quite,
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they make their brags and boast.
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In strength of men
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they set their onely stay:
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But we upon the Lord our God,
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will put our trust alway.
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Great is their number,
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of ships upon the sea:
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And their provision wonderfull,
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but Lord thou art our stay,
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Their armed souldiers
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are many by account:
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Their aiders eke in this attempt,
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doe sundrie waies surmount.
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The Pope of Rome
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with many blessed graines:
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To sanctify their bad pretense
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bestowed both cost and paines.
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But little land,
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be not dismaide at all:
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The Lord no doubt is on our side,
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which soone will worke their fall.
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In happie houre,
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our foes we did discry:
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And under saile with gallant winde
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as they cam passing by.
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Which suddaine tidings,
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to Plymmouth being brought:
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Full soone our Lord high Admirall,
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for to pursue them sought.
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And to his traine,
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coragiously he saide:
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Now for the Lord and our good Queene,
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to fight be not afraide.
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Regard our cause,
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and play your partes like men:
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The Lord no doubt will prosper us,
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in all our actions then.
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This great Galleazzo,
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which was so huge and hye:
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That like a bulwarke on the sea,
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did seeme to each mans eye.
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There was it taken,
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unto our great reliefe:
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And divers Nobles in which traine
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Don Pietro was the chiefe.
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Stronge was she stuft,
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with Cannons great and small:
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And other instruments of warre,
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which we obtained all.
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A certaine signe,
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of good successe we trust:
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That God will overthrow the rest,
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as he hath done the first.
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Then did our Navie,
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pursue the rest amaine:
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With roaring noise of Cannons great,
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till they neere Callice came:
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With manly courage,
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they followed them so fast:
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Another mightie Gallion,
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did seeme to yeeld at last.
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And in distresse,
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for savegard of their lives:
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A flag of truce they did hang out,
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with many mournfull cries:
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Which when our men,
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did perfectly espie:
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Some litle Barkes they sent to her,
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to board her quietly.
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But these false Spaniards,
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esteeming them but weake:
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When they within their danger came,
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their malice forth did breake.
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With charged Cannons,
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they laide about them then:
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For to destroy those proper Barkes,
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and all their valiant men.
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Which when our men,
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perceived so to be:
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Like Lions fierce they forward went,
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to quite this injurie.
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And bourding them,
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with strong and mightie hand:
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They kild the men untill their Arke,
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did sinke in Callice sand.
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The chiefest Captaine,
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of this Gallion so hie:
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Don Hugo de Moncaldo he,
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within this fight did die.
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Who was the Generall,
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of all the Gallions great:
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But through his braines with pouders force,
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a Bullet strong did beat.
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And manie more,
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by sword did loose their breath:
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And manie more within the sea,
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did swimme and tooke their death.
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There might you see,
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the salt and foming flood:
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Died and staind like scarlet red,
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with store of Spanish blood.
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This mightie vessell,
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was threescore yards in length:
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Most wonderfull to each mans eie,
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for making and for strength.
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In her was placed,
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an hundreth Cannons great:
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And mightily provided eke,
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with bread-corne wine and meat.
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There was of Dares,
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two hundreth I weene:
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Threescore foote and twelve in length,
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well measured to be seene.
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And yet subdued,
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with manie others more:
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And not a Ship of ours lost,
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the Lord be thankt therefore.
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Our pleasant countrie,
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so fruitfull and so faire:
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They doe intend by deadly warre,
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to make both poore and bare.
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Our townes and cities,
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to racke and sacke likewise:
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To kill and murder man and wife,
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as malice doth arise.
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And to deflower
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our virgins in our sight:
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And in the cradle cruelly
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the tender babe to smite.
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Gods holy truth,
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they meane for to cast downe:
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And to deprive our noble Queene,
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both of her life and crowne.
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Our wealth and riches,
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which we enjoyed long:
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They doe appoint their pray and spoile,
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by crueltie and wrong.
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To set our houses
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a fier on our heades:
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And cursedly to cut our throates,
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as we lye in our beds.
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Our childrens braines,
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to dash against the ground:
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And from the earth our memorie,
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for ever to confound.
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To change our joy,
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to griefe and mourning sad:
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And never more to see the dayes,
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of pleasure we have had.
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But God almightie
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be blessed evermore:
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Who doth encourage Englishmen,
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to beate them from our shoare.
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With roaring Cannons,
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their hastie steps to stay:
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And with the force of thundering shot
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to make them flye away.
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Who made account,
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before this time or day:
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Against the walles of faire London,
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their banners to display.
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But their intent,
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the Lord will bring to nought:
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If faithfully we call and cry,
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for succour as we ought.
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And you deare bretheren,
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which beareth Armes this day:
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For safegarde of your native soile,
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marke well what I shall say.
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Regarde your dueties,
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thinke on your countries good:
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And feare not in defense thereof,
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to spend your dearest bloud.
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Our gracious Queene
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doth greete you every one:
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And saith she will among you be,
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in every bitter storme.
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Desiring you,
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true English harts to beare:
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To God, and her, and to the land.
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wherein you nursed were.
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Lord God almightie,
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which hath the harts in hand:
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Of everie person to dispose
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defend this English land.
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Blesse thou our Soveraigne
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with long and happie life:
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Indue her Councel with thy grace,
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and end this mortall strife.
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Give to the rest,
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of Commons more and lesse:
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Loving harts, obedient minds,
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and perfect faithfulnesse.
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That they and we,
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and all with one accord:
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On Sion hill may sing the praise,
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of our most mightie Lord.
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