Selected quad for the lemma: england_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
england_n	king_n	philip_n	spain_n	3,500	5	8.4998	4	false

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ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A48783	The legend of Captaine Jones relating his adventure to sea, his first landing, and strange combat with a mighty beare : his furious battell with his six and thirty men, against the army of eleven kings, with their overthtow [sic] and deaths, his relieving of Kemper Castle, his strange and admirable sea-fight with six huge gallies of Spain, and nine thousand soldiers, his taking prisoner and hard usage : lastly, his setting at liberty by the Kings command, and returne for England.	Lloyd, David, 1597-1663.; Lluelyn, Martin, 1616-1682.	1656 (1656)	Wing L2631; ESTC R22326	41,199	102

prison and a Spanish prey Starboard and Larboard side from poope to prow They all let drive and rak'd her through and through All now but Iones and one man more were kill'd VVho cry'd Now fight and die or live and yield Iones kil'd the first the latter he besought him Upon his knees whilst by the knees he caught him Begging for life a bullet tooke away His head which when 't was off still seem'd to pray Out flew the head and bullet both at once Between the manly thighes of Captaine Iones Who lookt behinde him art thou gone quoth he Still may they die so that cry yield to me Now nought to him but blood and death appear'd Death was his wish captivity he fear'd Which to prevent Kil-za-dog forth he drew And thus he spake Brave Cato Cato slew And when victorious Brutus could not stand He fell but by his owne victorious hand Brutus I am a Brute and have thy spirit Thy fortune and selfe-death I will inherit Thus said his sword unto his side he plyes Which his good Genius stays thus replyes Hold Iones reserv'd for th● Countries good Born to shed hostil not thy home-bred blood And know that self death is the Cowards curse For he that dyes so dyes for feare of worse The time will come when Irish bogs shall quake Under thy feet whilst great Oneale doth shake I may not on thy future deeds dilate Thy sword must right what is involv'd in fate This know in thy old age thou shalt impart Unto thy Countries youth thy martiall art Teach them to manage armes and how they must Make bright their swords which peace hath wrapt it rust Now Iones vouchsaf'd to live not for himself But for his Countries good and Common wealth His scarlet cap he dons with crimson plume And he ascends the hatches all in sume The Musketiers ambitiously desire To his this mark and all at once give fire Some Bullets raze his plume his haire his nose His velvet Jerkin and his sattin hose The scars may yet be seen yet draws he breath Fearelesse and harmlesse in the jawes of death The Spaniard now conjectur'd his intent By seeking death t' avoid imprisonment And so forbore to shoot drew neere and sought To take the prey which they so deare had bought Then Iones all raging throwes into the maine That sword which men and wolves beares had slain That sword which erst had drunke the blood of King Into the bowels of the deep he dings The Ocean thirld for feare and gave it place And greedy Neptune snatcht it for his mace Then from the ship he leaps amongst his foes And so undaunted to Don Iohn he goes Who bid him Live Don-like but gave him breath Onely to breath in greater paines then death This shock had sent to Styx six thousand men Whose soules Don Iohn to satisfie againe Inflicts more servile punishments on Jones Then countervails six thousand deaths at once He beds on boards is fed with bits and knocks Ape-like barefoot with neither shoos nor socks Haire shirt blew bonnet made a servile knave A lowsie dusty nasty galley slave At last he brings Jones to the Spanish King And sayes Great Monarch see this pretious thing Six thousand of your bravest men he cost Who to gain him alive their lives have lost Nor think the bargain deare for here 's a man Can doe say more then your Viceroyes can This praise was given him by the crafty Don For feare his losse seem'd more then what he won And so it did indeed for Phillip thought Jones inside by his outside dearely bought To try he askes him whither bound and whence He was and Jones replies with little sense VVhether through feare or faining he affords To all the King demands not three wise words To try him further in a Jaile they cast him VVhich serv'd for nothing but to stink fast in And here it was his destiny to light Upon a learned Priest a Jesuite With him falls Iones to work The sacred word His weapon was for he had drown'd his sword Their question was of purgatory where And whether 't is at all if so 't is here Quoth Iones For he half tir'd with paines would needs Go straight to heaven And thus the question breed Iones was no Schoolman yet he bore a braine Which nere forgot what ere it could containe Yet this old Priest so wrests the letters sense Equivocates denies plaine consequence Starts to and fro and raiseth such confusions That Iones chief ward was to deny conclusions But doe this subtill Schoolman what he can Such was the vigour of this martiall man Though he was no good disputant or Text-man Nor knew to spell Amen to serve a Sexton Yet truth with confidence and his strong fist Doth first convince and then convert the Priest Some talke of Garnets straw and Lipsius lasses VVhose miracles made many Artists asses But here 's a miracle transcends them all An Artist made wise by a Naturall Now Englands Court rings all of Iones his fetters And men of rank were soon sent ore with letters To ransome him for gold or man for man On any termes The King with many a Don Consults upon this point One thought it fit To deale upon exchange some better wit Thought it more fit to keep this second Drak For so he term'd him wisely and thus spake Armies are Englands arme Captains the hand Of this strong arme that rules by sea land And of this arme and hand I thinke in summe This captive Captaine is the very thumb This speech was short and sound but could not goe so VVithout th'opposing of old Don Mendozo VVho lov'd and favour'd Jones but knew not why Nature it seemes had wrought some sympathy Pardon quoth he dread Soveraign are we come To talke of armes and hands and Captaine Thumb From East to VVest our Arms and armies raigne And feare we now for one to re-obtaine So many Viceroyes in the Isle captiv'd For us of light and almost life depriv'd VVere Drake's and Candish spirit in this dragon Let not their future times have this to brag on That Englands Queen did prize one Captaine more Than Spaines great Monarch did his twenty foure His speech prevail'd and so they all attone And twenty foure were askt and given for one All which had led great armies to the field And never knew but once what t was to yeild And thus was Iones dismist yet ere he goe The King to grace him made him kisse his toe Long maist thou live old man and may thy tongue And memory as thou grow'st old wax young Then wilt thou live in spight of time and be Times subject and time thine t'imblazon thee Pardon my forward Muse striving to soare A pitch with thee at mid-day tyr'd gives ore For who can speak thee all thou mighty man Not Greece's Homer nor Rome's Mantuan Thy Irish warres thy taking great Tyrone

so far He is resolv'd to wave the chance of war Himselfe and house he yeelds unto the Queen And her cold mercy which too soon was seen This is the last great act I can relate Of his good service for the Queen and State Rewards fit for his worth there were prepar'd Which his high spirit past by without regard And his great Queen was seriously bent To put him in some place of government But Nature onely taught the man to fight And his rude Mother not to read and write Which was the chiefest cause that made him hate To be imploy'd in mysteries of State Besides he was not pleased that her Grace Cut off this Noble man before his face Whom he brought in it may be his owne lot With axe or cord for nought to goe to pot Thus ignorance a discontented mind And worth ill weigh'd doe make him fall behind Occasions lock which lost he never more Though bred and breath'd on hills shall get before Now time and bruises and much losse of blood Had made Iones feel cold age was not so good As fiery youth he needs must find a fail Of what he was declin'd from top to tail Which made him wish he might put up his rest And breath his last in his own Countries brest And for this cause he went unto her Grace And begg'd of her a Muster-masters place In Wales neere his first home where he may spend His later dayes in peace and in it end And yet to leave behind his martiall art To Wale's posterity before he part This sute with speed and readinesse is granted And so to Wales our Muster-master's janted Here many years he spent in telling more Or lesse of those strange things he did before At last in his old age he growes so wilde He needs must marry to beget a childe Which though he mist the mastery he must have Ore every sex Iones sent her to her grave Devotion now with his old age increast He meditates thrice every day at least His only prayer was the Absolution In our old Liturgy with some confusion Of short ejaculations in his bed For some old slips and for the bloud he shed Especially for those six Kings he kild Without remorce at the Juzippian field At last death comes whose power he defi'd From first to last and thus he liv'd and di'd Now you wild blads that make loose Innes your stage To vapour forth the acts of this sad age Your Edghil fight the Newberies and the West And Northern clashes where you still fought best Your strange escapes your dangers voyd of feare When bullets flew between the head and eare Your pia maters rent perisht your guts Yet live as then ye had been but earthen buts Whether you fought by Dam me or the Spirit To you I speake still waving men of merit Be modest in your tales if you exceed My Captain 's hard atchivements I 'le proceed Once more to imp my rurall muses wings And turne my lyre so high I 'le break her strings But I will reach ye and thence raise such laughter As shall continue for sive ages after The Captaines Elegie ANd art thou gone brave man bath conqering death Put a full period to thy blustering breath Thus hath she plaid her master-piece and here Fixt her nil supra on thy sable beere Scap'st thou those hideous storms those horrid sights With many Giants cruel beasts fierce Knights Such dangerous stratagems such foes intrapping And now hath death don't sure she took thee napping For hadst thou been awake to use thy sword She would have shun'd thee and have ta'ne thy word For thy apparence till the last return Of her long term Or did thy mettle burn Through thy chapt clay unto Elysiums shades T' incounter with the ghosts of those old blades Great Caesar Scipio Annibal 'cause here Thy fiery spirit could not finde its peer How couldst thou else finde time to fold thy armes In thy still grave now Mars raines bloudy stormes On Christian earth great Austria would be ours Without pitcht field without beleaguering towrs Wert thou but here thy sword would strike the stroke To breake or bring their necks to Britaines yoke Perhaps it was the providence of Fate To snatch thee up lest thou shouldest come too late Now souldiers drop pel mel whose soules might thrust Thine from the chiefest place which thou from first Hast gain'd on earth now what shall England doe Limp like some grandame that hath lost her shooe Put case a new Tyrone again should spring From his old urne no some such furious thing As fierce Mac-kil-cow where were then our Jones To bring these Rebels on their marrow bones Or say 'gainst Spaine our pikes we re-advance For their old Sack as such a thing may chance Where shall we then finde out that Martiall man That kild six thousand with nine score hee 's gone And we that lick the dish that Homer lapt in What fury now shall our dull braines be rapt in We must goe sing Sr. Lanchelot and rehearse Old Huan's villanous prose in Wilder verse Or else put up our pipes and all at once Crie farewell wit all 's gone with Captaine Jones Well goe thy wayes old blade th' hast done thy share For things beyond beliefe time never feare Will give thee being here th' hast left us stuffe To build thy Pyramid more then enough To equall Cayre's and happily t wil out last it So with thy glorious deeds we may rough cast it Farewell great soule and take this praise with many Except thy foes thou nere did st harme to any And thus farre let our Muse thy losse deplore Well she may sigh but she shall nere sing more His EPITAPH T Read softly mortalls ore the bones Of the worlds wonder Captaine Jones Who told his glorious deeds to many But never was believ'd of any Posterity let this suffice He swore all 's true yet here he lyes FINIS The Invocation His birth place His stout behaviour in a storm at sea The name of his ship His landing * His encounter with a Beare * The name of his sword He joynes himself to the 36. soldiers His taking of fish with his halberts point Captain Jones encounters with the great Giant Asdriasdust His cration to his 25. souldiers before their fight with the 2000. sent against him by the 11 American Kings His courage in fight 5. Kings 120● soldiers slain Strange herrings What became of the rich prizes He his men come for England His raising of the ●●●ege of Kemper Castle He is made Vice Gen. under G. of Cūberland fought against the Spanish Fleet. * This sword he won from the great and fearefull G 〈…〉 Nereapeny His g 〈…〉 de 〈…〉 him from self-murder How be was used being taken captive He is presented to the Spanish King He is cast in prison He disputed there with a Jesuit about Purgatory Order ●ken in Eng land for 〈◊〉 ransome The point of his ransome debated in ●p A touch of some other deeds of chivalry by him performed 24. Spanish commanders given in ex change for him Sir Topas rime in Chaucer * Alway portending stormes when they are seen to play The Dolphin is alwayes observ'd to be a lover of man The eldest son of the King of France alwaies stiled the Dolphin Nebuch●nizzar † The saw in W 〈…〉 Lowsie The Prince of Sonth-Wales Who was slain neare Bealt a town in Brecknockshire * Robert Earle of Essex * A little village by Milford * An old Welch Prophet who foretold the landing of Henry the seventh there Scaevola against Porsenna in Livie Lup●ntbropos Witches that take shipes of Wolves upon them in Ireland A Towne and Fort in the County of Cardigan Read purchas in his relations of Aethiopia touching this Mount The Apple which three goddesses Juno Pallas and Venus contended for which was given by Paris to Venus whereupon followed the destruction of Troy A great epicure and Emperor of Rome * painted cloths in Inns and victualling houses Read Gurtius touching these * A private Span●sh Commander that took this great King of Mexico with a handfull of men Read the Commentaries de bello Africno * Read Curtius touching that Elephant of Porus who often remounted his master with his trunk in that battell between him and Alexander

FAmes windy trump blew up this haughty minde To doe or wish to doe what here you finde 'T was were held error yet in errant Knights Which priviledge he claimes to dresse their fights In high hyperbolies for youths example To make their minds as they grow men grow ample Thus such atchievements are assaid and done As passe the common power and sence of man Then let high spirits strive to imitate Not what he did but what he doth relate The LEGEND of CAPTAINE JONES the first 2 d part Printed for R. Marriott are sould at his shop under y e Kings head Tavern in Fleet street neare Chancery-lane en● THE LEGEND OF Captaine JONES RELATING His adventure to Sea His first landing and strange combat with a mighty Beare His furious battell with his six and thirty men against the Army of eleven Kings with their overthrow and deaths His relieving of Kemper Castle His strange and admirable Sea-fight with six huge Gallies of Spain and nine thousand Soldiers His taking Prisoner and hard usage Lastly His setting at liberty by the Kings command and returne for England LONDON Printed for Richard Marriot and are to be sold at his Shop in S. Dunstans Church yard Fleet-street 1656. To the READER REader y'have here the Mirrour of the times Old Jones wrapt in his colours and my rimes Receive him fairely pray nor censure how Or what he tells the matter hee 'l avow And for the forme he speakes in I 'le maintain it It comes as neer his vaine as I could strain it For 't were improper to set forth an Asse Capparison'd and pannell a great horse My part claims no inventions praise for know it Where ere there 's fiction in 't there he 's the Poet. His last deeds here epitomiz'd intreat Some thundring pen to set them forth compleat Let him whose lofty Muse will deigne to doe it Drink Sack and Gunpowder and so fall to it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 P. E. After Captaine Jones his great Conquest in the Indies these Verses were ingraven on a Pillar of Gold in the famous City of Chiapa HAvacun atsiquinta rucar ruchaquit a holom Rutsi uutsiquin Jonos quintacque Britanno In rutisba Dios chiru narapata tiquita Xalocohta naloc quinquimi nava tinuloc Chaquil Ruchaquil Don Spanos Cacaracarta Inra Ixnulocosh Europon quincol amoloh Chinaloconta nucam quiti Chicata Chiapa Mecoacana mani quinraphi tilcona rutat Inrurapa cochor vilcat Cacunta Chalocoh Havocohta ruvac Rixim car nucar avixim Ixlocon-hita quimac avix inreca corochi Pan Nutsi nuchac quinrochi nutisba China Chipam Rumoloh●mac numac taxa veronquil Chyrvo capat quiro vinac navecata maniquir Chilocontho Navos nutacqui Coave-caca Quinvani vilquin Xinvi nucamca tivito By the assistance of Mr. Gage his rules to learn that Indian Tongue call'd Poconchi thus faithfully and verbatim translated into English HO Passenger Behold read understand Great Jones a Brittaine conquer'd all this Land In thirteen dayes twelve Kings he overthrew And millions of Salvages he slew At last the Spanish Dons with all their force Of Indian foot and Europaean Horse Surpriz'd him neere Chiap● where he stood Five houres in fight cover'd with fire and blood And in that furious conflict all his men Who were once thirty sixe reduc't to ten With those few blades and his owne mighty Arme He did repulse them without spell or charme Then to his Ship retreated and to shew 'T was Glory and not Gold he did pursue Of all the spoiles he took but one rich Cup And as much Gold as made this Pillar up This Monument stood Undefac'd 1588. But Immediately after was demolisht by the Envy of the Spaniards and the Gold converted to other uses E. LL. On the REVIVALL of Captaine JONES WHy shak'st thou Coward Hand dost drop the Pen Honour'd to limne the Prodigie of Men What meanes this strange Surprizall that unknitts Thy joynts possessing them with Palzied Fits Who dares dread Heroe offer to thy Fame Without Apollo's Call must feele the same Mov'd by pure zeal to Honour thus I run A young Enthusiast the Priests among Trembling to pay my Mite Welcome once more To us Great Britains Mars our joyes run ore To see the truth of a Platonique yeare Confirm'd in thee so bright dost thou appeare Deckt with thy valours Rayes Poets who can Make Gods have rais'd thee up thou God-like Man What brave Revenge had'st th 'ad on thy old Foe Hadst thou but breath'd our Aire some moneths agoe Thou and thy six and thirty set on shore In Hispaniola would'st have acted more Than was I blushing write it done by And with their ten thousand men I acquiesce and leave to higher Formes Thy stern deportment in all Fights and stormes Who draw at large and well my single Hint Is a Pertentous Act in a small Print Reward those who againe have made thee breath With Laurell ta'ne from thy victorious wreath I have enough t' entitle me to Fame Who both a Britaine am and of thy Name H. I. A Supplement to the famous Historie of the truly valiant and Magnanimous Captain Jones LOoke to your selves I see his marble frowne His threatning ashes challenge their renowne Expostulating thus Durst your narration Omit those noble acts of admiration Which I perform'd when Aeolus deny'd Me his assistance'gainst the struggling tide Never was Martiall man affronted worse Tyrone had brib'd him to retort my course Some wish'd mee send to Lapland for a winde Nay that I scorn'd I had enough behinde Turning my posterne I sent forth a blast That tore the sailes and crack'd the Sturdy mast Hurrying my friggot with such force that it Ranne on a shelve and so was like to Split ' Gramercy policie this I foresaw For such mischances I had help at Maw I 'de dranke an Ocean up of English Beere Which wanting water I made use of here I turn'd my Conduit pipe ote decke and Spouted And fill'd the shoare so that Saint Patricke shouted And cry'd my friends this is no time for mirth Oh hone a deluge comes to drowne the earth Obstructions being removed in this sort At length I landed in an Irish port And thought it

And bid them thinke on Jones amidst this glee In hope to get such roaring boyes as he Others this joy into a fury rapt To sing his praise though elegant and apt Yet mixt with fixions which he scornes 'T is knowne Jones fancies no additions but his owne Nor need we stir our braines for glorious stuffe To paint his praise himselfe hath done enough And hath prescrib'd that I should write no more Then his good memory hath kept in store Of what he did Perhaps he hath or can Doe more but hides it like a modest man His Brittish expedition makes me hie From his vagary to his Chivalry This Dukedomes confines pointing on the South Great Kēper Castle guards on Morligs mouth Which key of Brittaine like great Brittaines Dover Was wel nigh lost by siege til Jones went over To dye or raise it 'T was begirt by land With fifteen thousand Foure tall ships withstand All succours from the sea Against this force He goes as boldly as an eyelesse horse With one small Bark the Shit-fire 't was a hot one And save a hundred men was with him not one But these were Welsh blades born for hacks hewing And car'd not what they did so they were doing Thus like some tempests these foure ships he frightens His guns roare thunder whilst his powder lightens And from his broad side poures a showre of haile Which rakes them thorow thorow ribs masts sail Their shot replies but they were rankt too high To touch the Pinnace which beares up so nigh And playes so hot that her opponents thinke Some Devill is grand Captaine of the Pinke One English Pirat with them whilst he watches His time to shoot spies Jones upon the hatches And cryes out Ho hoise Canvas all at once And fly or yield Zounds it is Captaine Jones The man swore reason and 't was quickly heard For not a Bullet like that name was feard They fly he followes but a partiall winde And wings of feare sav'd them left him behinde To Kemper he returnes him and supplies it With fifty men and victualls to suffice it Six moneths The foes by land lose hope and heart To oppose this new supply and so depart Then on the Gate this title was ingraved Jones rescued Kemper and the Dukedome saved Thus plum'd with Laurell Jones for England came Where George of Cumberland rapt with his fame Wooes him to be Vicegenerall of his fleet Which Iones vouchsaft because he was to meet Men like himselfe the doughty Dons of Spain Whose honour or lose all he vow'd to gaine And better fate in this designe he wisht not Thē to cope single w th their great Don Quixot Stay Muse and blush and sigh sing no more Here Iones his Mistris Fortune plaid the whore Yet whilst thou loath'd her lightnesse to rehearse Let indignation make thee chide in verse Ah deity and blindly to go on so From thy deare minion Iones to Iohn D' Alonso Whose out and inside is no better mettle Then an old Drum or a base Tinkers Kettle And tak'st thou him for Iones that glorious boy Whom Venus self would kisse were Mars away Well fickle goddesse if thou be divine I 'le sweare heaven hath like earth light feminine T was thus This fleet cut through the Westerne maine And so lay hovering on the coast of Spaine Iones led the front as t was his custome still The first in fight last to be kil'd or kill His ship went swiftest too as did his minde On honors wings But oh an envious winde Fild all his saile and wrapt him in a mist From being seen or seeing ere he wist And thus he lost his traine and cast about And beat these Seas five dayes to find them out Till in his quest it was his fate to meet Don Iohn D. Alonso with the Spanish fleet This Generall bid amaine and Iones defi'd From Canons mouth The Don againe repli'd With foure for one Ah Iones had I my wish Some Godhead should have turn'd thee to a fish To escape this dire assault thou shouldst not then Be taken like a tame beast in thy den Nine thousand souldiers was the force that fought This day with Iones whom six huge gallies brought The stoutest boats to make a bold Bravado That were in Spaines invincible Armado Iones first commands his men to take their victuall He souldier-like dranke much and prayd a little Then tells them briefly here 's no place to fly Come friends let 's bravely live or bravely die By this the gallyes had inclos'd him round And sought to board him but they quickly found The ship too hot to grapple with sosoon And so bore off againe and paid her roome Then each by turne present her the broad side Which she repaid with intrest and so ply'd That where her bullets pierce whole streames of blood Spout through the gallyes ribs and dye the flood The foes disdaine thus long to stand in fight Gainst one and so presse on with all their might And now the storme grew hot and deep in blood Mad rage had got the place where reason stood Guns drums and trumpets stop the souldiers cares From hearing cryes and groanes and fury reares This fatall combate to so strange a height Th●● higher powers expresse th' effects of fright Great Neptune quakt and roar'd clouds ran and pi● The windes fell downe and Titan lurkt in mist. Then belch huge bullets forth smoak fire thunder Their fury strikes the gods with feare and wonder One gally which two hundred slaves did row Affront the ship in hope to buldge her prow Jones gave her leave but when she once came nigh One burst his murdering shot here doom'd to dye Downe dropp'd the brave Viceroy of Saint Iago Don Diego de Cordona and Gonzago Stones chaines and bullets tare their passage out Through men and galley which soon tackt about In hope to get aloofe but Jones sent after Two lucky shots which light twixt wind and water In crept the quaking billow where he spide Those holes in hope its fearefull head to hide The galley like afeard worse hurt doth creep Into the trembling bowels of the deep And so she sanke Thus Diego whilst he try'd His force with Jones with fifteen hundred dy'd Now Jones all breathlesse sat to take his breath Upon a But of sack and drank the death Of Don Iohn de Alonso which his men Pledge in a rowse and so they fight agen Ninescore there were but threescore now remaine To doe or suffer for the rest were slaine The Spanish force distract twixt hope and feare Yet by their fellowes fall forewarnd forbeare This hot assault keep distance and at Jones Let fly their shot at randome all at once Some halfe a Cable short and some flew ore The top saile some the sterne and rudder tore One all the rest in fatall fury past And all to shivers rove the master mast Downe fell the tackle and the vessell lay An English

tomb And overburthen'd with what bore her before She 's down-right foundred and can work no more Here might be seen the sad effects of feare Which severall wayes in severall men appeare Some cry'd some pray'd whilst others sweare or rave To leave the land to make the sea their grave Jones swoln with the brave actions of his Knights Big as the sea ascends and Neptune cites To single combate when a boisterous wave Which Neptune sent to make him Neptunes slave Whurles him a cables length to sea the ship Sinks with the rest who give this world the slip Well now Sir Jones 't is time to shew your skill You must swim stoutly for 't or drink your fill No danger frights thee thou brave man of merit Thy body is boy'd up by thy blow'n spirit As a grim sea-calfe still presaging storms Wallows and wantons in cold Thetis arms Just such is Jones as if he had been bred With her finn'd frie within her watrie bed No ship for help no land for hope appeares Horror of billowes roaring in his eares Nothing supports but confidence alone as ●f some prest Whale must take up Jones like Jonas At last alasse he findes he is no fish His spirit'gins to leave his treacherous flesh Continuall laboring makes his limbs waxe stark And stiffe with cold his optick sense growes dark Neptune insults and brandishing his mace Makes his rude billowes dash him ore the face Now see the fate of noble resolution When Iones thought nothing but of dissolution Man's constant friend a gentle Dolphin glides Between his thighes on whom he mounts and rides In post with mighty speed through wind and weather So his kind fish holds out he cares not whither Like a bold Centaur bravely he curvets From ridge to ridge 't was strange how fast he sits In this rough road but Iones learn'd from his cradle To ride without a stirrop or a sadle When on the mountains tops wilde mares he spide He suckt them dry and then straight up and ride At last at this high speed he gets the sight Of land so neere hee 's ready to alight When his kind fish much griev'd to leave the burthen She lov'd so well to sea again doth turn With mighty speed still Iones doth her bestride Beleeving now he should toth ' India's ride Faine would he turn her but he knew not how He never knew a bridles want till now At last the faithfull fish preferring higher Her riders safetie then her own desire She turnes her course about with happy hast And so our errant Knight on land she cast Some Spanish writers flatly do deny He suffered wrack and plainly term 't a lye They say the ship that led this dangerous dance Was built by Lewis King Henty's sonne of France And took that name from him who beares that name As eldest sonne who still is styl'd the same They write Iones got this ground t' augment his glory And cheat the world with this stupendious story But let the reader judge if this be true And know pale envy still doth worth pursue Well now to Iones againe we may conceave He was not ill apaid to take his leave Of this rough element nor did account it Much worse to goe on foot then ride so mounted 'T is true he road this lofty fish in state But 't was too neer the boisterous fit of fate He fear'd not Fortune nor her wheele though fickle Yet loth he was to be laid up in pickle Or that his manly limbs should be a feast For sharks or crabs or congers to digest His next work is to finde some habitation Though he came safely there 't was in mean fashion The self-same clothes which when Alonso brav'd him He made him wear and to the gally slav'd him And though this last foul storm had little harm'd him It seem'd to some strāge thing to have transform'd him Rigid and rough long wet and feltred locks Like Babels King when turn'd into an Oxe For a fresh-water souldier none could doubt him The seas salt teares ran trickling round about him In this cold plight he leaves the beachy strand And coasts the maine with many a weary stand At last he spies a house not great but good For here he finds a brother of his brood VVho had adventur'd in those wayes before And rais'd some fortune by 't and gave it ore He quickly finds that Iones had scap'd some wrack Experience charity and pity spake On this behalfe the good man bids him in And with Y' are kindly welcome doth begin He spak 't in Dutch which gladded Iones for he Could speak 't aswel as Grace dw worth awhee VVhich language a Dutch Pilot well had taught him VVhen Greenfield to America had brought him By this the Stove's made ready in goes Iones Dryes his wet garments comforts nerves and bones The table 's set with homely wholesome cheare And to make all compleat strong Lubeck beere A Dutch froe was his mate more fat then faire But wondrous free and there to debonaire Which mades Jones aske what Country 't was that gave This noble welcome to her humble slave He 's answer'd 't is the Netherlands the States Brave seat of warre where many broken pates Are got and given and for his wants supply The good strong towne of Flushing stood fast by Where Sir John Norrice did command in chiefe For England's glory and the States reliefe This tickled Jones with joy for Horace Vere Norrice and he had been I know not where Comrades in armes ere Jones did entertain That crosse designe with Cumberland for Spaine But now a bed does well to take some rest Where this good host directs his weary guest And having slept his fill he timely rose Takes a most thankfull leave and on he goes His purpose is to take his passage over At the next Port he finds from thence to Dover But first at Flushing he resolves to touch Where his old friend the Bulwark of the Dutch Brave Norrice holds his troop Here Iones arrives Just as he came from Jaile except his Gives Clad in his slavish robe of Fryers gray His cap true blew no company but they That will not leave him whilst he hath a ragge Such as possesse the Begger with his bagge Winds storms nor seas nor ought that could undo him Could make them flinch like friends they stick close to him And thus accompanied he doth approach Toth ' Generalls house neither with steed nor coach But in his manly foot-march 't was the time When Norrice with his Chiefes were set to dine Jones presseth to the Parler from the Hall And there accoasts the noble Generall Who ey'd him quickly and cryes out ô fate Live I to see the strength of England's State Breath'st thou brave man at armes Jones art thou he Or is it Mars himselfe disguis'd like thee Quoth Jones The scourge of Spaniards and of Spaine Whom they have felt and foyl'd but to their

paine Stands here and yet would breath some few yeare longer To prove King Philip or my self the stronger The rest was deare imbraces and his place By Norrice side and then a hasty grace Now might I dwell upon the luscious cheare Which here grew cold whil'st each mans eye and ear Fed on the person and discourse of Iones And quite forgot their toasts and marrow bones And whilst his strange adventures past he tels The Captaines Serjant Majors Collonels Fast to admire him and are fill'd with wonder And feel no hunger though their bellies thunder Here mark his constancy beyond these men He eats and talkes and eats and talkes agen Their mawes are cloy'd to heare those deeds of his His stories are his meales Parenthesis But when he spoke of Spaine 't is past beliefe What fearefull wounds he gave the chine of beefe A capon garnish'd wich slic'd lemmons stood Before him which he tore as he were wood And made it leglesse ere he made a pause Meerly in malice to the Spanish sawce He wrecks his wrath on every dish that 's nigh him And spoil'd a custard that stood trembling by him Grow'n pikes and carps and many a dainty dish That far excell'd his tame Crotonian fish At last his fury 'gan to be asswag'd And then the Generall all his friends ingag'd To give him Souldiers welcome in a rowse Of lusty Rhenish till both men and house Turne round Once two great deities conjoyn'd To worke his fall with hideous seas and wind Now onely Bacchus takes the man to taske And layes sore to him with his potent caske And whilst with lusty grape ore born Iones reeles H'assaults his head and so trips up his heeles But up he rose againe with vigour stout And sweares though foil'd hee 'l try an other bout They all were now high flow'n when Collonell Skink Fills a huge bowl of sherry Sack to drink A health to Englands Queen and Jones is he Must take 't in pledge and so he did but see The strange antipathy between this man And Spanish grape as well as Spanish Don. Against them both his stomach fierce doth rise No sooner drunk but up again it flies This odde distemper made him half asham'd But there 's no help he was with wrath inflam'd Nor was he pleas'd with Skink of this affront For so he took 't he knew Skink could not want The wine of Rhene for healths why then in Sack Unlesse it were to lay him on his back Fir'd with this thought he catcht at his buff-coat Then grapples close and had pluckt out his throat But that the wary General interposes His hands and friends between their bloody noses And with strong reasons smiles and smooth aallyes He damps the fury of these fiery boyes And left them as he thought well reconcil'd But by th' effect he found he was beguil'd The night dispers'd them now to severall wayes As they were quarter'd Jones with Norrice stayes Who sent him the next morn a brave rich suit Intended for himself with all things to 't Scant was he dress'd when Skink unto him sends A Captain boldly to demand amends For last nights work and Jones to do him right A bullet must exchange in single fight For which himself and Second would not misse Where Jones design'd to meet with him and his This Jones accepts and sweares before that night He shall heare from him how and where he 'l fight He thus dispatcht Sir Roger Williams enters To whom much kind discourse past ore he venters To tell his difference with Skink i which told Sir Roger like a Britain true and bold Protests himselfe his Second hasts to Skink Tells him h' had need fight well as well as drink That Iones and he at the South-postern gate Early next morn would meet him and his mate With sword and pistoll hors'd and there agree To fight it two to two or Iones and he Then comes to Iones supply'd him with a horse Well rid and fierce Bucquoy had felt his force Before Breda then gives that sword and belt Which Prince Llwellin wore when slain neer Bealt The hour come these champions soon appear They spend no time in words in full career Iones charges bravely close up to his brest And fires but fortune turn'd it to the best Makes him through hast forget to prime his pan So mist his shot and so preserv'd the man Vext with this faile he flings with all his might Worse than the bullet had his hand gone right His pistoll at his face 't was aim'd so neare It raz'd his cheek and took quite off his eare Skink's bullet pierc'd the blow of Iones his saddle And slightly circumcis'd his foremans noddle The Seconds stood attending the event Of this first charge both resoluetly bent If either in th' incounter had been sped To run the same adventure they both did But when they saw the bravery of their fight Both having lost their blood the quarrel slight They both detest such men should be destroy'd By which their countrey should be sore annoy'd With joynt consent their power they unite To ride up to them and break off the fight Thus got between them all best meanes they use To take it up which both inrag'd refuse They urge the equall termes on which they stood In point of honour both had lost their blood Both fought it well how light their quarrels ground Not worth one drop of blood much less a wound Then bid them look on their dear countries woe Whose breasts must suffer for the ill they doe Reason takes place of wrath they both accord And mischeifs engin rests they sheath the sword And thus in few this dangerous duell ends Fierce foes they met and now return good friends Their Surgeons stanch their blood for yet they bled And clap a cap on Iones his nether head This newes comes quickly to the Generals ear Who when he heard their lives were out of feare He gently chides them that they would expose Their limbs unto the various chance of blowes In single duell when the common good No longer stands then such good members stood Ten dayes are spent ere Iones could stand upright Through his slight hurt which come the noble Knight Brave Norrice he takes leave of with the rest Of that brave martiall crew and then addrest Himself for England Joy thou happy Isle Thy Son returns that hath kept all this quoile Ye blustering boyes of Britain feast and quaff all The man 's at hand whose presence makes you laugh all Welcome to Dover thou great son of Mavors So spake the Mayor of Dover on his grave horse Mounted to meet him with his reverent train All gown who cry him welcome home from Spain After some short repast on post he rides To Non-such where her Majesty resides Where he was soon brought up to kisse her hand By his dear friend George Earl of Cumberland But then when took to private conference What newes of moment what