A newe ballade, declaryng the daungerons [sic] shootynge of the gunne at the courte to the tune of Sicke and sicke / [by] W.E.

¶ A newe Ballade, declaryng the daungerous▪ ſhootyng of the Gunne at the Courte. To the tune of Sicke and ſicke. VVeepe, weepe, ſtill I weepe, and ſhall doe till I dye: To thinke vpon the Gunne was ſhot, at Court ſo daungerouſlie. THe ſeuētene daie of Iulie laſte, at euenyng toward night, Our noble queene Elizabeth, tooke barge for her delight: And bad the watermē to row, her pleaſure ſhe might take About the Riuer to and fro, as muche as thei could make. Weepe, weepe, ſtill I weepe, and ſhall doe till I dye: To thinke vpon the Gun was ſhot, at court ſo dangerouſly▪ And of her Counſell with her grace, were nobles two or three, As fitteſt were to be in place, regardyng their degree: The Frenche Ambaſſadour likewiſe▪ to comon with her grace, Of waightie cauſes ſatte with her, eche one in comely place. Weepe, weepe. &c. But when her grace an hower or twoo, had paſt to take the aire, Returnyng readyng on a booke, ſhe ſaied rowe ſoft and faire: Wherby as God the matter wrought, the ſlackneſſe and the ſtaie, Softely ſhe paſte and nothyng thought, of gunſhotte any waie. Weepe, weepe, &c. But all this while vpon the Themes, in a ſchullers Boate vnknowne A wretched felloe got a gun, that was none of his owne And ſhot a bullet twoo or three, at randon all about, And gaue no greate regard to ſee, what time the queene wēt out. Weepe, weepe. &c. But as her grace came paſſyng by, had giuen his peece a charge, And there out let a bullet flie, that hitte one in the Barge: A water man through bothe his armes, as he began to rowe, That he cried out vpō his harmes, wherat the queene was woe. Weepe, weepe &c. Her ſelf in ſight and preſence by, when that the bullet came, She ſawe hym hurt, ſhe ſawe him fall, yet ſhrūck not at the ſame: Neither made ſhe any fearfull ſhewe, to ſeme to bee diſmaied, Nor ſeemed to the Embaſſadour, of any thyng afraied. Weepe, weepe &c. But hauyng ſuche a mightie mynde, as paſſeth tonge to tell, She ſtept vnto the wounded man, and bad hym take it well: His gusshyng blood could not abaſhe, her noble courage then, But ſhe was readier to giue helpe, then all the noble men. Weepe, weepe &c. But what her highneſſe ſaied and did, in that ſo ſodaine feare, Hereafter in my ſorie tale, the ſubſtaunce you ſhall heare: Let boats go out and fetche hym in ſhe ſaied, that this hath doon, And quickly was the perſone brought, that ſo diſcharged ye gunne Weepe, weepe, &c. The noble councellors moſte abroad, to whō theſe tidyngs came Made haſt to court with trembling harts, to thinke vpō the ſame Applaudyng God vpon their knees▪ moſte humbly in their place, With teares of ioye that bitter bale, had ſo eſcaped her grace. Weepe, weepe &c. His name was Thomas Appletree, of Courte a ſeruyng man, Whiche was no little greef to ſee, to his good maiſter than: He was committed to the gaile, at Counſellers graue regarde, That thei might iudge what vileſt death, were fit for his reward Weepe, weepe &c. With blubryng teares it is no bote, to tell the weepyng eyes, That were full woe of ſuche a ſhot, where all our ſaftie lyes: The bullet came ſo nere her grace, within ſixe foote at leaſt, Was neuer ſuche a curſed caſe, by ſuche a wilfull beaſt. Weepe, weepe &c. Wherefore it was decreed and iudged, by all the counſell graue, That hangyng was to good a death, for ſuche a wretch to haue: A gibbet was ſet vp in haſte, againſt the Court full nye, Where this vnhappie Appletree, was pointed for to dye. Weepe, weepe &c. And on the Tueſdaie following, then this wicked priſoner came, Well garded with the Marſhalls men, to hang vpon the ſame: His maiſter ſtandyng on the banke, to heare what he could ſaie, He humbly fell vpon his knees, and mercie did hym praie. Weepe, weepe &c. Would God thou hadſt neuer ſerued me, ꝙ he with woful looke, But God he ſaied forgiue it thee, that curſed marke thou tooke: And after praier ſaied and doen, on the ladder as he ſtood, He tooke his death before them all, he was a ſubiect good. Weepe, weepe, &c. And neuer ment to hurt her grace, nor any in the Barge, Nor ment to ſhoote in any place, to hurte with any charge: But wiſhed he neuer had been borne, for his good maſters ſake, Whom he had made a wofull man, and no amendes could make. Weepe, weepe &c. For troth it was and truthe it is, the Queene & Councell knowe Not willyngly, though wittyngly, he let the bullet goe: Whiche matter hath been ſifted ſo, it moueth more her grace, To let the paſſion of it goe, the meekelier in his caſe. Weepe, weepe &c. The Queene that ſawe this Sacrifice, a ready wretch to dye, Whoſe pittie pleadeth pardon ſtill, put for the her princely eye: And ſent the Captaine of her Gard, a Counſeler graue and wiſe, To make the facte and fauour knowne, as he could beſte deuiſe. Weepe, weepe, &c. Who gaue a thūdring peale of grace, the priſoners fault to ſhowe And all the people in the place, what prince th • i had to knowe: What courage in her noble grace, in perill did appeare, Before the Frenche Embaſſadours face, in ſuche a ſodain feare. Weepe, weepe, &c. And tolde againe if that miſhap, had happened on her grace, The ſtaie of true Religion, how perlous were the cace: Whiche might haue turnde to bloody warres, of ſtrange & forein foes, Alas how had wee been a curſte, our comforte ſo to loſe. Weepe, weepe &c. Then of the mercie of her grace, her ſubiects 〈…〉 ſaue, By whom theſe xx. yeres in peace, ſuche quiet ••• s wee haue: The teares fell doune on euery ſide, and aloude the people crie, The almightie long preſerue her grace, to gouerne proſperouſlie. Weepe, weepe, &c. And laſte of all he ſaied againe, marke yet this piteous queene, For all this vile vnhappie facte, ſo leudely doen and ſeene: Retournes to her inured courſe, of mercie to forgiue, That this accurſed ſhall not dye, but pardons hym to liue. Weepe, weepe &c. And then to heare the people ſhoute, and ſee thē clapt their hands Who would haue torne his fleſhe before, being in hangmās hāds To ſee the goodneſſe of her grace, to ſuche greate pitie bent, It made the ſtonieſt harte of all, aſtonied to lament. Weepe, weepe &c. The counſeler that the pardon brought, then knelyng on his kne And euery ſubiecte as thei ought, kneeled as well as he: And ſaied a praier for her grace, vpon the dolefull grounde, Whereof the peoples ſighyng ſherles, aboue the ſkies rebounde. Weepe, weepe, &c. All louyng ſubiectes learne to knowe, your dueties to our quene, By lande and water where ye goe, that no ſuche deede be ſene: But praie to God that rules the ſkies, her highneſſe to defende, To raigne with him perpetually, whē her highnes life ſhall ende. Weepe, weepe, ſtill I weepe, and ſhall doe till I dye: To thinke vpon the gun was ſhot, at court ſo dangerouſly. W. E. Finis.