William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Restoration Verse. 1910.
Mary AmbreeAnonymous
W
Did march to the siege of the citty of Gaunt,
They mustred their souldiers by two and by three,
And the formost in battle was Mary Ambree.
Who was her true lover, her joy, and delight,
Because he was slaine most treacherouslie
Then vowd to revenge him Mary Ambree.
In buffe of the bravest, most seemelye to showe;
A faire shirt of male then slipped on shee:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
A stronge arminge-sword shee girt by her side,
On her hand a goodly faire gauntlett put shee:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
Bidding all such, as wold, to bee of her band;
To wayte on her person came thousand and three:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
Nowe followe your captaine, whom you doe beholde;
Still formost in battell myselfe will I bee:’
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
‘Soe well thou becomest this gallant array,
Thy harte and thy weapons so well do agree,
Noe mayden was ever like Mary Ambree.’
With ancyent and standard, with drum and with fife,
With brave clanging trumpetts, that sounded so free;
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
To come into danger of death or of thrall,
This hand and this life I will venture so free;’
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
’Gainst three times theyr number by breake of the daye;
Seven howers in skirmish continued shee:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
And her enemyes bodyes with bulletts so hott;
For one of her own men a score killed shee:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
Away all her pellets and powder had sent,
Straight with her keen weapon she slasht him in three:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
At length she was forced to make a retyre;
Then her souldiers into a strong castle drew shee:
Was not this a brave bonny lasse, Mary Ambree?
As thinking close siege shee cold never abide;
To beat down the walles they all did agree:
But stoutlye deffyd them brave Mary Ambree.
And mounting the walls all undaunted did stand,
There daring their captaines to match any three:
O what a brave captaine was Mary Ambree!
To ransome thy selfe, which else must not live?
Come yield thyselfe quicklye, or slaine thou must bee:’
Then smiled sweetlye brave Mary Ambree.
Whom thinke you before you now you doe behold?’
‘A knight, sir, of England, and captaine soe free,
Who shortlye with us a prisoner must bee.’
Two brests in my bosome, and therefore no knight:
Noe knight, sirs, of England, nor captaine you see,
But a poor simple mayden called Mary Ambree.’
Whose valour hath proved so undaunted in warre?
If England doth yield such brave maydens as thee,
Full well may they conquer, faire Mary Ambree.’
Who long had advanced for England’s fair crowne;
Hee wooed her and sued her his mistress to bee,
And offered rich presents to Mary Ambree.
‘I’le nere sell my honour for purple nor pall;
A mayden of England, sir, never will bee
The wench of a monarcke,’ quoth Mary Ambree.
Still holding the foes of faire England in scorne!
Therfore English captaines of every degree
Sing forth the brave valours of Mary Ambree.