A Lamentable Ballad, of a Combate lately per-
formed neere London, betwixt Sir JAMES STEWARD, and Sir
GEORGE WHARTON, Knights, who were both slain at
that time. The tune is, down Plumpton Park.
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IT grieves me for to tell the woe,
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near London late that did befall,
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On Martlemas Eve, O woe is me,
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I grieve the chance and ever shall,
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Of two right gallant Gentlemen,
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who very rashly fell at words,
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But so their quarrel could not fall,
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till they fel both by their keenswords,
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The one was Sir George Wharton cal'd
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the good Lord Whartons son and heire,
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The other Sir James the Scotish Knight
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a man that valiant heart did bear,
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Neere to the Court these gallants stout,
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fell out as they in gaming were,
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And in their fury grew so hot,
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they hardly could from blowes forbear.
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Nay, kind intreaties could not stay,
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Sir James from striking in that place,
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For in the height and heat of blood,
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be struck young Wharton o're the face,
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What dost thou mean, said Wharton then,
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to strike in such unmanly sort,
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That I will take it at thy hand,
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the tongue of man shall ne'r report.
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Why do thy worst, then said Sir James,
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and mark me Wharton what I say,
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There's ne'r a Lord in England breathes,
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shall make me give an inch of way:
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This brags too large, stout Wharton said,
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let our brave English Lords alone,
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And talk to me who am your foe,
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for thou shalt find enough of one.
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Alas sir said the Scottish Knight,
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thy blood and mind's to base for me,
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Thy oppositions be too bold,
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and will thy dire destruction be,
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Nay said young Wharton you mistake,
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my courage and valour equals thine,
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To mak't apparant cast thy glove,
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to gage, to try as I do mine,
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I said Sir James, hast thou such spirit,
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I did not thinke within thy breast,
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That such a haughty daring heart,
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as thou mak'st shew of ere could rest,
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I enterchange my glove with thee,
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take it and point thy bed of death,
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The field I mean where we must fight,
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and one or both lose life or breath.
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Wee'l meet neere Waltham, said sir George
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tomorrow that shal be the day
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Wee'l either take a single man,
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and try who bears the Bell away:
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This done, together hands they shooke,
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and without any envious signe,
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They went to Ludgate where they staid,
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and drank each man a pint of wine.
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No kind of anger could be seen,
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no words of malice might bewray,
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But all as faire, as calm, as coole,
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as love within their bosome lay,
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Till parting time and then indeed,
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they shew'd some rancor of their heart,
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George said sir James, when next we meet
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so sound I know we shall not part.
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And so they parted both resolv'd,
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to have their valours truly try'd,
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The second part shall briefly show,
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both how they met and how they dy'd.
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The second Part, To the same Tune.
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YOung Wharton was the first that came
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to the appointed place on the next day,
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Who presently 'spied Sir James coming in
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as fast as he could post away:
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And being met in manly sort,
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the Scottish Knight did to Wharton say,
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I do mislike thy doubled George,
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it sits so clear on thee this day,
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Hast thou no privy Armour on?
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nor yet no privy Coat of Steel,
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I ne'r saw Lord in all my life
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become a Doublet halfe so weele:
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Now nay, now nay, stout Wharton said,
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Sir James Steward that may not be,
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I'le not an armed man come hither,
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and thou a naked man truly.
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Our men shall strip our Doublets George
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so shall we know whether of us do lye,
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And then w'eel to our weapons sharp,
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our selves true Gallants for to trie:
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Then they strip off their Doublets fair,
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standing up in their shirts of Lawn,
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Follow my Councel the Scottish man said,
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and Wharton to thee i'le make it known.
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Now follow my councel, i'ld follow thine,
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and wee'l fight in our shirts said he,
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Now nay, now nay, Young Wharton said
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Sir James Steward that may not be,
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Unlesse we were Drunkards & quarrellers,
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that had no other care over our sel,
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Nor caring what we go about,
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or whether our souls go to Heaven or hel,
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Wee'l first to God bequeath our souls,
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then next our corps to dust and clay.
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With that stout Wharton was the first
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too[k]e Rapier and Poniard there that day,
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Seven thrusts in turns these Gallants had
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before one drop of blood was drawn,
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The Scottish Knight then spake valiantly,
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stout Wharton still thou holdst thine own.
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With the next thrust that Wharton thrust,
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he ran him through the shoulder bone,
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The next was through the thick o'th thigh,
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thinking he had the Scottish Knight slain
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Then Wharton said to the Scotish knight
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are you a living man tell me?
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If there be a Surgion in England can,
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he shall cure your wounds right speedily.
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Now nay, now nay the Scotish Knight said
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Sir George Wharton that may not be
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The one of us shall kill each other,
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e're off this ground that we doe flie.
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Then in a maze Sir George look't back,
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to see what company was nie,
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Thy both had dangerous markes of death,
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yet neither would from other flye.
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But both through body wounded sore,
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with courage lusty, strong and sound,
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They made a desperate deadly close,
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they both fell dead unto the ground,
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Our English Knight was first that fel,
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The Scottish Knight fel immediately,
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Who cryed both to Jesus Christ,
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receive our souls, O Lord we dye.
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God blesse our Noble King and Queen,
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and all the Noble Progeny,
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That Britain all may live in one,
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in perfect Love and Unity,
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Thus to conclude I make an end,
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wishing that quarrels stil may cease,
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And that we still may live in Love,
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in prospetous state, in joy and peace.
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