he ding, And said, the Lord Strange shou'd surely dye; And putt him into the Tower of London, For at liberty he shou'd not bee. Lett us leave Richard and his lords full of pride, And talk we more of the Stanleys' blood, That brought Richmond over the sea with wind and tyde, From Litle Brittain into England over the flood. Now is Earle Richmond into Stafford come, And Sir William Stanley to Litle Stoone; The prince had rather then all the gold in Christantye, To have Sir William Stanley to look upon; A messenger was made ready anone, That night to go to Litle Stoon; Sir William Stanley he rideth to Stafford towne, With a solemn company ready bowne. When the knight to Stafford was comin, That Earle Richmond might him see, He took him in his arms then, And there he kissed him times three; The welfare of thy body doth comfort me more Then all the gold in Christantye. Then answered that royall knight there, And to the prince these words spake he— Remember, man, both night and day, Who doth now the most for thee; In England thou shalt wear a crown, I say, Or else doubtless I will dye; A fairer lady then thou shalt have for thy feer, Was there never in Christanty; She is a countesse, a king's daughter, And there to both wise and witty; I must this night to Stone, my soveraigne, For to comfort my company. The prince he took him by the hand, And said, farewell, Sir William, fair and free. Now is word come to Sir William Stanley there, Early in the Monday, in the morning, That the Earle of Darby, his brother dear, Had given battle to Richard the king. That wou'd I not, said Sir William anone, For all the gold in Christantye, That the battle shou'd be done; Straight to Lichfield cou'd he ride, In all the hast that might bee, And when he came to Lichfield that tyde, All they cryed King Henry: Straight to Bolesworth can they go In all the hast that might be, But when he came Bolesworth Field unto, There met a royall company; The Earle of Darby thither was come, And twenty thousand stood him by; Sir John Savage, his sister's son, He was his nephew of his blood so nigh, He had fifteen hundred fighting men, That wou'd fight and never flye; Sir William Stanley, that royall knight, then Ten thousand red coats had he, They wou'd bicker with their bows there, They wou'd fight and never flye; The Red Rosse, and the Blew Boar, They were both a solemn company; Sir Rees ap Thomas he was thereby, With ten thousand spears of mighty tree; The Earle of Richmond went to the Earle of Darby, And downe he falleth upon his knee, Said, father Stanley, full of might, The vaward I pray you give to me, For I am come to claime my right, And faine revenged wou'd I bee. Stand up, he said, my son, quickly, Thou hast thy mother's blessing truely, The vaward, son, I will give to thee, So that thou wilt be ordered by me: Sir William Stanley, my brother dear, In the battle he shall be; Sir John Savage, he hath no peer, He shall be a wing then to thee; Sir Rees ap Thomas shall break the array, For he will fight and never flee; I myselfe will hove on the hill, I say, The fair battle I will see. King Richard he hoveth upon the mountaine; He was aware of the banner of the bould Stanley, And saith, Fetch hither the Lord Strange certain, For he shall dye this same day; To the death, Lord, thee ready make, For I tell thee certainly That thou shalt dye for thy uncle's sake, Wild William of Stanley. If I shall dye, said the Lord Strange then, As God forbid it shou'd so bee, Alas! for my lady that is at home, It should be long or she see me, But we shall meet at doomsday, When the great doom shall be. He called for a gent in good fay, Of Lancashire, both fair and free, The name of him it was Lathum; A ring of gould he took from his finger, And threw it to the gent then, And bad him bring it to Lancashire, To his lady that was at home; At her table she may sit right, Or she see her lord it may be long, I have no foot to fligh nor fight, I must be murdered with the king: If fortune my uncle Sir William Stanley loose the field, As God forbid it shou'd so bee, Pray her to take my eldest son and child, And exile him over behind the sea; He may come in another time By feild or fleet, by tower or towne, Wreak so he may his father's death in fyne, Upon Richard of England that weareth the crown. A knight to King Richard then did appeare, The good Sir William of Harrington. Let that Lord have his life, my dear Sir king, I pray you grant me this boone, We shall have upon this field anon, The father, the son, and the uncle all three; Then shall you deem, lord, with your own mouth then, What shall be the death of them all three. Then a block was cast upon the ground, Thereon the lord's head was laid, A slave over his head can stand, And thus that time to him thus said: In faith there is no other booty tho', But need that thou must be dead. Harrington in hart was full woe, When he saw that the lord must needs be dead. He said, our ray breaketh on ev'ry side, We put our feyld in jepordie. He took up the lord that tyde, King Richard after did him never see. Then they blew up their bewgles of brass, That made many a wife to cry alas! And many a wive's child fatherlesse; They shott of guns then very fast, Over their heads they could them throw: Arrows flew them between, As thick as any hayle or snowe, As then that time might plaine be seene; Then Rees ap Thomas with the black raven, Shortly he brake their array; Then with thirty thousand fighting men The Lord Pearcy went his way; The Duke of Northefolke wou'd have fledd with a good will, With twenty thousand of his company, They went up to a wind millne uppon a hill, That stood soe fayre and wonderousse hye; There he met Sir John Savage, a royall knight, And with him a worthy company; To the death was he then dight, And his sonne prisoner taken was he; Then the Lord Alroes began for to flee, And so did many other moe; When King Richard that sight did see, In his heart hee was never soe woe: I pray you, my merry men, be not away, For upon this field will I like a man dye, For I had rather dye this day, Then with the Standley prisoner to be. A knight to King Richard can say there, Good Sir William of Harrington; He said, sir king, it hathe no peer, Upon this feyld to death to be done, For there may no man these dints abide; Low, your horse is ready at your hand: Sett the crown upon my head that tyde, Give me my battle axe in my hand; I make a vow to myld Mary that is so bright, I will dye the king of merry England. Besides his head they hewed the crown down right, That after he was not able to stand; They dinge him downe as they were woode, They beat his bassnet to his heade, Until the braynes came out with the bloode; They never left him till he was dead. Then carryed they him to Leicester, And pulled his head under his feet. Bessye mett him with a merry cheare, And with these words she did him greete; How like you the killing of my brethren dear? Welcome, gentle uncle, home! Great solace ytt was to see and hear, When the battell yt was all done; I tell you, masters, without lett, When the Red Rosse soe fair of hew, And young Bessye together mett, It was great joy I say to you. A bishopp then marryed with a ringe The two bloods of great renowne. Bessy said, now may we singe, Wee two bloods are made all one. The Earle of Darby hee was there, And Sir William Stanley, that noble knight, Upon their heads he set the crown so fair, That was made of gould so bright. And there he came under a cloud, That some time in England looked full high; But then the hart he lost his head, That after no man cou'd him see. But Jesus, that is both bright and shine, And born was of mylde Mary, Save and keepe our noble kinge, And also the poore commentie. Amen.
