CLIFTON

How many pair of shoes knave would. For every knave two pair good sauce against kyb'd heals by my hollidam; well shod, and clad will mak'em fight Like men! the North is could, subject to frosts, and snówes, and 'tis bade fighting without victual, and cloth! for which I have pro vided well for both; forty horse loads, and twently Carrs of victual, 'twill stop a good breach in a soldiers belly! my man shall pay thee huffit; my Hollidam! my old Neighbour rich Boot, and Bateman, is this brabbling matter ended yet! shall he have her, by my Hollidam not yet, the knave shall serve his Queen first, see the wars, where 'twill do him good to see knocks pass as fillips, say i'st done? By my Hollidam he shall not want for that But I am tardy, and my time is precious My Hollidam, wheir's this knave? My Hollidam knaves all three! put me a Tailor, a Uvea for, and a Miller into a bag. Why he that first comes out will be a knave. And what then knave? You're both pressed, and willing to serve the Queen. Weel see how you can edify our Camp. Come my old neighbours, let our Drum Beatrice a free march weel have a health to Queen Bess, cry S to . George, and a fig for S to . Dennis. A Soldiers wishes bless my noble General. I by my Hollidam at war as at a feast I'll scramble for my partly, and if I catch a knock That honour which a Soldier wins in wars Is of low price unless he bring home scars Five hundred, and fifty tall white coats, Fellows that will face a murdering Cannon, When it blows ranks into the Air as Chaff Yet dreadless they shall stand it, and not shrink, Right Nottingham shire Lads. My Hollidam I Like not these signs of peace These French Flies work on advantages I'll not trust'em. By my Hollidam jugglers, constant in nothing but Inconstancy, thats the French Merchandise. A servant of mine, his name Bateman? Each man betake him to his instruments Keep safe this Port for it's the sole defence To our new Trenches, and raised Bulwarks; If any issue from the Town give fire, And the Alarm shall be answered quick; The French are subtle, and in various shapes, Combine themselves, therefore to gain the best, Prevent the worst; To women, and children, be merciful, But trust none, the politic Fox sometime Wrapps himself within the Lions skin, So working prey upon the innocent Lamb, These French are subtle Foxes. My Hollidam thats true? What sudden business of so main import Calls thee from the wars, where thou seest Resolved spirits rate their lives at nought Regardless of all Misery's, for honours; Thou a proficient in wars Academ Hast profited well; the first day and Ancient In single duel taken? I tell thee Bateman It has won a great impression in my Lord. Resolve thee so; I would not have thee go To fish for shadows and let go the substance, Thou knowest my meaning Bateman. My letters want but sealing, follow me To the Generals Tent. Well fought my hearts: though we have lost one man Whose head they basely perch upon the Walls. Base minded Doysels cowardly Mortigue Though all advantages in war are lawful Th'are not commendable? you came Like your selves Frenchified truls, to scold us from our Trenches But not to beat us? come either of you single, And fight with Clifton, if not one, come both, And by my Countries honour; no man here Shall dare to touch you but this arm of mine. And for that one a thousand dastard French Shall dearly pay, Count I shall meet thee? By my Hollidam; our meeting will seem rough our parting fair? make this thy quarrel, I pronounce thy Queen defective in beauty, virtues, honours, unto my mistress, England's royal BESS? Have I sturd thy blood? When next we meet we'll try it? Each man unto his charge, for one men head A thousand Frenchmen shall be slaughtered. Thou keepest thy promise Mortigue. By my Hollidam, I'm glad I've waked thy temper! The end still finds it self in every act, And so shalt thou in thy presumptuous braves? The honour of my mistress makes me young Her name shoots majesty into my looks, Valour into my heart, strength to this arm Which thou shalt feel to thunder on thy Helm, Guard thee Frenchman, i'm sure thou canst not fly; Bravely i'll kill thee, or else bravely die. Th'art my prisoner Doysells. By my Hollidam? My life shall stand between him, and danger. He's my prisoner, and by the Law of Arms, Yielding himself a Captive to our mercy, His life is ransomable; let our General Decree his ransom, and after dispose of him. By my Hollidam, and will? There take thy Arms, return back to Leith With our best convoy; I tell thee Mortigue My hatred is not capital, though honour, And wars necessity made me storm; When to these walls thou seest my white coats come With scaling ladders to assault the Town Be merciful as I have been to thee, This is all Cliftons ransom. List to the sequel; A point well watered. We'll talk with you hereafter. Tuesday the seventh of May. I guess so my Lord; Howard with his Launce-tieres quarters T'wixt Mount Pelham, and the Sea by West. Stout Hary Percy with his barbed steeds Neighing for Actium guards the Tents by East, Arguile, with shot marches for the Hill Brey; Sir Francis Leek keeps the water-ports, I the green Bulwark opposite to Doysells With tough hardy Nottingham shire boys We'll fallen before we fly, by my Hollidam. Ti's bloody. The thunderer, on both sides shoots his bolts Valour is at the Touchstone of true trial; The French Like to so many gods of war Bravely brandish darting fire from steel; The valiant Scot Arguile commands the Hill, The Town-plays fiercely; their came a shot Of full two hundredth weight into my Tent Doysells has thrice assaulted me. I faced him, And from his sides, Like Libian Hercules, I tore the rough Nemean Lion's Skin His Armour of good proof which here I bear, And will not partly from, but with lose of life. My Hollidam, Thank me Doysells, I did not take thy head. We'll not articulate. Now we have beaten them out of the Town, they come To composition. My Hollidam. What a new monster England has begotten We cannot fight because we want commission? Mortigue, Doysells, by my just Hollidam It grieves me that we must not fight it out. Come le'ts shake hands, Till seven at night all friends After such greetings, as on war depends. After the hand of war has razed your walls, Affrighting peace from your Ivory beds, And Like the reaper with his angry Fickle Leaves the Earth full of soars, and wounds, Yet after plasters her with her own crop; So come we after war, bloody turmoils To bring you peace, which had you sued before, Thousands that now lie boweld in the earth Had lived to memory what we have done. Set open your gates, & with spread arms embrace her For which as follows ye have articulated, The Articles thus follow, The most mighty Princess Elizabeth by the grace of God, of England, France, and Ireland Queen, defendor of the faith, &c and the most Christian King, Francis, and Marry, by the same grace King, and Queen of France, and Scotland have boar Record upon a reconciliation of peace, and amity to be inviolably kept between them, their Subject's, Kingdoms, and confines; and therefore in their names it is straitly come manded to all manner of persons, born under their obey sances, or being in their services, to lay by all hostility either by Sea or Land, and to keep good peace either with other from this time forward, as they will answer thereto, at their utmost perils; long live Elizabeth, Francis, and Marry; They are thirteen in number; The principal, and of most effect, are these, That the French Soldiers, and all men of war Leave the Realm of Scotland in twenty days, Six score Soldiers, only are excepted, Three score of them to remain at Inskeith, And three score, at the Castle of Dun-barr, Their wages to be paid from the estates of Scotland; and to live lawful Subject's To the Laws, and ordinances of that Realm, All fortifications in, or, about Leith, Which by the French was built, shall be defaced, That France convey not any man of war Nor ammunition into this Land, Without a free consent in Parliament, Of the three estates of these great Kingdoms. That Francis, and Marry King, and Queen of France, From henceforth bear not the Arms of England Which solely appertain to our dread Mistress The Queen of England, and to no other. These as you hope for peace, you must observe. By my Hollidam we accept your offer; Lay by your arms; still after frays come feasts, To which we Soldiers, are the welcomest guests; Unbrace our drums, instead of war's Alarms, We'll meet, Like constant lovers, arm in arms They are my Lord in each particular. And the French ready to depart the Town, By my Hollidam, they have feasted us. Not Like to foes but friends, it's my wonder, That a besieged Town could yield such Cates, In such extremities, and exigents, Full forty several messes, yet not one, Either of fish or flesh, only one dish, Which was the daintiest, (a powdered horse) That, I took notice off. By my Hollidam; want, want, Give me the English chine, and that feeds men, And they that feed well, certainly will fight Unless some Wolf, or maw- Worm be internate; Your Majesty begets a spring of youth In me and old decayed Tree of age, Worn with as many snowy winter's storms, As makes the brawny Oak grow sap-les, Leafless withered, times perjod is ruin, Yet by my life, my heart retains 'its vigour. And what we want in deeds, we'll act in duty, To you the Sovereign mistress of our hearts. What a knave is this.