Another dragon in the land,

I also did in fight destroy,

Which did both men and beasts oppress, And all the country sore annoy.

And then to Warwick came again,

Like pilgrim poor, and was not known; And there I liv'd a hermit's life,

A mile and more out of the town:

Where, with my hand, I hew'd a house
Out of a craggy rock of stone;
And lived, like a palmer poor,
Within that cave, myself alone;
And daily came to beg my food
Of Phillis, at my castle-gate;
Not known unto my loving wife,
Who daily mourned for her mate.

Till at the last I fell sore sick,

Yea, sick so sore that I must die; I sent to her a ring of gold,

By which she knew me presently.
Then she repaired to the cave,

Before that I gave up the ghost;
Herself clos'd up my dying eyes:
My Phillis fair, whom I lov'd most.

Thus dreadful Death did me arrest,
To bring my corpse unto the grave;

And like a palmer died I,

Whereby I hope my soul to save.

My body in Warwick yet doth lie,

Though now it is consum'd to mould; My stature was engraven in stone,

This present day you may behold.

BALLAD XX.

THE HONOUR OF A LONDON PRENTICE.

Of a worthy London prentice
My purpose is to speak,
And tell his brave adventures
Done for his country's sake:

Seek all the world about,
And you shall hardly find
A man in valour to exceed
A prentice' gallant mind.

He was born [and bred] in Cheshire,
The chief of men was he;
From thence brought up to London,
A prentice for to be.

A merchant on the bridge

Did like his service so,

That, for three years, his factor
To Turkey he should go.

And in that famous country
One year he had not been,
Ere he by tilt maintained

The honour of his queen;

Elizabeth his princess

He nobly did make known, To be the phoenix of the world, And none but she alone.

In armour richly gilded,
Well mounted on a steed,
One score of knights most hardy
One day he made to bleed;
And brought them all to ground,
Who proudly did deny
Elizabeth to be the pearl
Of princely majesty.

The king of that same country
Thereat began to frown,
And will'd his son, there present,
To pull this youngster down;
Who, at his father's words,
These boasting speeches said,
< Thou art a traitor, English boy,
And hast the traitor play'd.'

'I am no boy, nor traitor, Thy speeches I defy,

For which I'll be revenged

Upon thee, by and by;

A London prentice still

Shall prove as good a man,

As any of your Turkish knights, 'Do all the best you can.'

And therewithal he gave him

A box upon the ear,

Which broke his neck asunder,

As plainly doth appear.

'Now know, proud Turk, (quoth he,) I am no English boy,

'That can, with one small box o' th' ear The prince of Turks destroy.'

When as the king perceived
His son so strangely slain,
His soul was sore afflicted,
With more than mortal pain;
And, in revenge thereof,

He swore that he should die
The cruel'st death that ever man
Beheld with mortal eye.

Two lions were prepared

This prentice to devour,
Near famish'd up with hunger,
Ten days within a tower,
To make them far more fierce,

And eager of their prey,

To glut themselves with human gore,
Upon this dreadful day.

The appointed time of torment

At length grew nigh at hand,
Where all the noble ladies

And barons of the land
Z

VOL. II.

Attended on the king,

To see this prentice slain, And buried in the hungry maws Of those fierce lions twain.

Then in his shirt of cambric,
With silk most richly wrought,
This worthy London prentice
Was from the prison brought,
And to the lions given

To stanch their hunger great, Which had not eat in ten days space Not one small bit of meat.

But God, that knows all secrets,
The matter so contriv'd,
That by this young man's valour
They were of life depriv'd;
For, being faint for food,

They scarcely could withstand
The noble force, and fortitude,
And courage of his hand :

For when the hungry lions

Had cast on him their eyes,

The elements did thunder

With the echo of their cries:

And running all amain

His body to devour,

Into their throats he thrust his arms,

With all his might and power: