Iohn Arm-strongs last good-night. Declaring how John Arm-strong and his eightscore men, fought a bloody bout with a Scottish king at Edenborough. To a pretty northern tune, called, Fare thou well Giltknock-hall. T. R. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription B09831 of text R182337 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing R84C). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 6 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 B09831 Wing R84C ESTC R182337 64551635 ocm 64551635 184742 2240872376

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 Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 2, no. B09831) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 184742) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English Books, 1641-1700 ; 2871:8) Iohn Arm-strongs last good-night. Declaring how John Arm-strong and his eightscore men, fought a bloody bout with a Scottish king at Edenborough. To a pretty northern tune, called, Fare thou well Giltknock-hall. T. R. 1 sheet ([1] p.) : ill. (woodcut) Printed for Francis Grove ..., London : [1658?] Caption title. Signed by: T. R. Imprint from colophon. Date of publication suggested by Wing. Reproduction of original in: Bodleian Library. eng Armstrong, John, d. 1528 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. Ballads, English -- 17th century. Broadsides -- England -- 17th century. eebo Iohn Arm-strongs last good night. Declaring how John Arm-strong and his eightscore men, fought a bloody bout with a Scottish King at Edenborough. To a T. R 1658 2 908 13 0 0 0 0 0 143.17 F The rate of 143.17 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the F category of texts with 100 or more defects per 10,000 words. 2011-10 Assigned for keying and markup 2011-10 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2011-12 Sampled and proofread 2011-12 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2012-05 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
Iohn Arm-strongs last good night . DECLARING How John Arm-strong and his eightscore men , fought a bloody Bout with a Scottish King at Edenborough . To a pretty Northern Tune , called , Fare you well guilt Knock-hall .
woodcut of an armed gentleman and a lady facing each other
IS there never a man in all Scotland from the highest state to the lowest degrée , That can shew himself now before the King , Scotland is so full of their Traitery ? Yes , there is a man in Westmerland , and John Arm-strong some do him call , He has no Lands nor Rents coming in , Yet he keeps eightscore men within his hall . He has horse and harness for them all , and goodly stéeds that he milk white , With their goodly belts about their necks , with hats and feathers all alike . The King he writ a lovely letter , with his own hand so tenderly , And has sent it unto John Arm-strong to come and speak with him spéedily . Whe● John he looked the letter upon , then word ●e was as blithe as a bird in a trée , I was never before no King in my life , my Father , my Grandfather , nor none of us thrée But séeing we must before the King , Lord we will go most valiantly , You shall every one have a velvet coat , laid down with golden laces thrée ; And you shall every one have a scarlet cloak , laid down with silver laces ●i●e , With your golden belts about your necks , with hats , brave feathers all alike , But when John he went from guilt Knock-hall , the wind it blew hard , and full sore it did rain Now fare you well brave guilt Knock-hall , I fear I shall never sée thée again . Now Iohn he is to Edenborough gone , and his eightscore men so gallantly , And every one of them on a milk-white stéed , with their bucklers & swords hanging down to the knée But when Iohn he came the King before , with his eightscore men so gallant to sée , The King he moved his bonnet to him , he thought he had béen a King as well as he , O pardon , pardon , my Soveraign Leige ▪ pardon for my eightscore men and me ▪ For my name it is Iohn Arm-strong , and a subject of yours my Leige said he .
The second part to the same Tune .

an army with drummers marches behind a flag, carrying muskets

AWay with thée thou false Traitor , no pardon I will grant to thee , But to morrow before eight of the clock , I will hang thy eightscore men and thée . O how Iohn looked over his left shoulder , and to his merry men thus said he , I have asked grace of a graceless face , no pardon here is for you nor me . Then Iohn pull'd out a nut-brown sword , and it was made of mettle so frée , Had not the King moved his foot as he did . Iohn had taken his head from his body . Come follow me my merry men all , we will scorn one foot away to fly . It never shall be said we were hung like doggs no wée'l fight it out most manfully , Then they fought on like Champions bold , for their hearts was sturdy , stout , and frée , Till they had killed all the Kings good Guard . there was none le●t alive but onely thrée . ●●t then rise up all Edenborough , they rise up by thousands three , Then a cowardly Scot c●me Iohn behind , and run him thorow the fair body . Said Iohn , fight on my merry m●n all , I am a little hurt , but I ●m not slain London , 〈◊〉 for Francis Grove on Sow-hill , I will lay me down for to bléed a while , then I le rise , and fight with you again . Then they fought on like mad men all , till many a man lay dead on the plain , for they were resolved before they would yield , that every man would there be slain . So there they fought couragiously , till most of them lay dead there , and slain , But little Musgrave that was his foot-page , with his bonny grissel got away untain . But when he came up to guilt Knock-hall , the Lady speed him presently . Wh●t news what news thou little Foot-page , what news from thy Master & his company ? My news is b●d , Lady he said , which I do bring as you m●y sée , My Master Iohn Arm-strong he is slain and all his gallant company . Yet thou art welcom home my bonny Grisel , full oft thou hast fed at the corn and hay , But now thou shalt be fed with bread and wine and thy sides shall be spurred no more I say O then bespoke his little Son , as he was set on his Nurses knée , If ever I live for to be a man , my Fathers blood revenged sh●ll be . Entered according to Order .
FINIS . T. R.