THE KING AND A POORE NORTHERNE MAN.

Credit! nay thats it the King forbad:

He bad, if I got thee, I should thee stay.
The Lawyer payd him an hundred pound
In ready money, ere he went away.

Would every Lawyer were served thas!
From troubling poore men they would cease:
They'd either show them a good cause why,
Or else they'd let them live in peace.

And thus I end my merry tale,

Which shews the plain man's simplenesse,
And the Kings great mercy in righting his wrongs,
And the Lawyers fraud and wickednesse.

M. P.

[The initials, M. P., which, as will be seen, are appended to this ballad, were intended, in the opinion of Mr. Collier, to make the reader suppose that it was written by Martin Parker, the celebrated and popular ballad-maker; though he regards the story as much older than 1640. It was known of old, by the name of Too Good to be True,' as Mr. Collier shows by reference to Henslowe's Diary, (since edited by him for the Shakespeare Society, vide pp. 204, 6, 7,) and the second of two stanzas at the commencement of the Bagford broadside mentioned above, in which the book' from which the author professes to have taken the history,' is called The Second Lesson, too good to be true.' Those stanzas are as follows:

To drive away the weary day,

A book I chanc'd to take in hand,

And therein I read assuredly

A story, as you shall understand.

Perusing many a history over,

Amongst the leaves I chanc'd to view
The books name, and the title is this,

The Second Lesson, too good to be true!'

'Lessons,' as Mr. Collier remarks, was the title of the several divisions of collections of Iopular histories.]

[This ballad is taken from The Crown Garland of Golden Roses,' Part II., as reprinted, by the Percy Society, from the rare edition of 1659; the author of which was Richard Johnson, mentioned, p. 490, as the author of 'The Seven Champions of Christendom.' The full title of it is as follows:The story of Ill May-Day in the time of King Henry the Eighth, and why it was so called: and how Queen Katherine begged the lives of Two Thousand London 'Prentices. To the tune of Essex's Good Night." It was inserted in the Collection of Old Ballads,' London, 1723; in Evans's Old Ballads,' and in Songs of the London 'Prentices,' which has also been reprinted by the Percy Society. It is stated in Evans to be founded on a fact which happened on the May-eve of the year 1517, the 8th of Henry the Eighth's reign, of which he gives a detailed account, a summary of which will be found in the note, p. 392. The reader of The Fortunes of Nigel' will not fail to recognise in Jin Vin and his fellows the worthy successors of the London 'Prentices of Ill MayDay.']

ERUSE the stories of this land,

And with advisement mark the same;

And you shall justly understand

How ill May-day first got the name.

For when King Henry Eighth did reign,
And rul'd our famous kingdom here;
His royal queen he had from Spain,

Queen Katherine named, as stories tell,
Sometime his elder brother's wife,
By which unlawful marriage fell
An endless trouble during life.
But such kind love he still conceiv'd
Of his fair queen, and of her friends,
Which being by Spain and France perceiv'd,
Their journeys fast for England bends.

And with good leave were suffered
Within our kingdom here to stay;
Which multitudes made victuals dear,
And all things else from day to day.
For strangers then did so increase,
By reason of King Henry's queen;
And privilege in many a place

To dwell, as was in London seen.

Poor tradesmen had small dealing then,
And who but strangers bore the bell?
Which was a grief to Englishmen,

To see them here in London dwell.
Wherefore, God wot, upon May Eve,
As prentices on maying went,
Who made the magistrates believe
At all to have no other intent.

But such a May-game it was known,
As like in London never were,
For by the same full many a one,

With loss of life did pay full dear.
For thousands came with Bilboa blade,
As with an army they could meet;
And such a bloody slaughter made,
Of foreign strangers in the street,

That all the channels ran down with blood
In every street where they remain'd;
Yea, every one in danger stood,

That any of their part maintain'd.
The rich, the poor, the old, the young,
Beyond the seas though born and bred,
By prentices there suffered wrong,

Such multitudes together went,

No warlike troops could them withstand; Nor yet by policy them prevent,

What they by force thus took in hand : Till at the last King Henry's power This multitude encompass'd round, Where with the strength of London's tower, They were by force suppress'd and bound.

And hundreds hang'd, by martial law,
On sign-posts at their master's doors,
By which the rest were kept in awe,
And frighted from such loud uproars.
And others which the fact repented,
(Two thousand prentices at last),
Were all unto the king presented,
As mayors and magistrates thought best.

With two and two together tied,

Through Temple-Bar and Strand they go, To Westminster, there to be tried, With ropes about their necks also. But such a cry in every street

Till then was never heard nor known, By mothers for their children sweet, Unhappily thus overthrown.

Whose bitter moans and sad laments
Possess the court with trembling fear;
Whereat the queen herself relents,

Though it concern'd her country dear.
What if, quoth she, by Spanish blood
Have London's stately streets been wet,
Yet will I seek this country's good,

And pardon for these young men get.

Or else the world will speak of me,
And say Queen Katherine was unkind;
And judge me still the cause to be,

These young men did these fortunes find.
And so, disrob'd from rich attires,
With hair haug'd down, she sadly hies,
And of her gracious lord requires
A boon, which hardly he denies.

"The lives," (quoth she), "of all the blooms Yet budding green, these youths I crave; O, let them not have timeless tombs,

For nature longer limits gave !" In saying so, the pearled tears

Fell trickling from her princely eyes, Whereat his gentle queen he cheers,

And

"Stand says,

up, sweet lady, rise!

The lives of them I freely give,

No means this kindness shall debar, Thou hast thy boon, and they may live To serve me in my Boulogne war." No sooner was this pardon given,

But peals of joy rung through the hall, As though it thunder'd down from heaven, The queen's renown amongst them all.

For which, (kind queen), with joyful heart,
She gave to them both thanks and praise,
And so from them did gently part,

And liv'd beloved all her days:
And when King Henry stood in need.
Of trusty soldiers at command,
These prentices prov'd men indeed,
And fear'd no foes of warlike band.

For at the siege of Tours, in France,
They showed themselves brave Englishmen :

At Boulogne too they did advance

Saint George's lusty standard then. Let Tourenne, Tournay, and those towns That good King Henry nobly won, Tell London's prentices' renowns,

And of their deeds by them were done.

For ill May-day, and ill May-games,
Perform'd in young and tender days,
Can be no hindrance to their fames,
Or strains of manhood any ways,
But now it is ordain'd by law,

We see on May-day's eve at night,
To keep unruly youths in awe,

By London's watch in armour bright.