A joyful new Ballad, declaring the happy obtaining of the great galeazzo, Wherein Don Pietro de Valdez Was the chief, through the mighty power and providence of God, being a special token of his gracious and fatherly goodness towards us, to the great encouragement of all those that willingly fight in the defence of his gospel and our good Queen of England.  
To the Tune of Mounseurs Almaigne.  
 

O Noble England,  
fall down upon thy knee:  
And praise thy God with thankful heart  
which still maintaineth thee.  
The foreign forces,  
that seeks thy utter spoil:  
Shall then through his especial grace  
be brought to shameful foil.  
With mighty power  
they come unto our coast:  
To over run our country quite,  
they make their brags and boast.  
In strength of men  
they set their only stay:  
But we upon the Lord our God,  
will put our trust always.   

Great is their number,  
of ships upon the sea:  
And their provision wonderful,  
but Lord thou art our stay.  
Their armed soldiers  
are many by account:  
Their aiders eke in this attempt,  
do sundry ways surmount.  
The Pope of Rome  
with many blessed grains:  
To sanctify their bad pretence  
bestowed both cost and pains.  
But little land,  
be not dismayed at all:  
The Lord no doubt is on our side,  
which soon will work their fall.   

In happy hour,  
our foes we did descry:  
And under sail with gallant wind  
as they came passing by.  
Which sudden tidings,  
to Plymmouth being brought:  
Full soon our Lord high Admiral,  
for to pursue them sought.  
And to his train,  
courageously he said:  
Now for the Lord and our good Queen,  
to fight be not afraid.  
Regard our cause,  
and play your parts like men:  
The Lord no doubt will prosper us,  
in all our actions then.   

This great galeazzo,  
which was so huge and high:  
That like a bulwark on the sea,  
did seem to each man's eye.  
There was it taken,  
unto our great relief:  
And divers Nobles in which train  
Don Pietro was the chief.  
Strong was she sluft,  
with Cannon's great and small:  
And other instruments of war,  
which we obtained all.  
A certain sign,  
of good success we trust:  
That God will overthrow the rest,  
as he hath done the first.   

Then did our Navy,  
pursue the rest amain:  
With roaring noise of Cannons great▪  
till they near Calais came:  
With manly courage,  
they followed them so fast:  
Another mighty Gallion,  
did seem to yield at last.  
And in distress,  
for safeguard of their lives:  
A flag of truce they did hang out,  
with many mournful cries:  
Which when our men,  
did perfectly espy:  
Some little Barks they sent to her,  
to board her quietly.   

But these false Spaniards,  
esteeming them but weak:  
When they within their danger came,  
their malice forth did break.  
With charged Cannons,  
they laid about them then:  
For to destroy those proper Barks,  
and all their valiant men.  
Which when our men,  
perceived so to be:  
Like Lion's fierce they forward went,  
to quite this injury.  
And boarding them,  
with strong and mighty hand:  
They killed the men until their Ark,  
did sink in Calais sand.   

The chiefest Captain,  
of this Gallion so high:  
Don Hugo de Moncaldo he,  
within this fight did die.  
Who was the General,  
of all the Galleons great:  
But through his brains which powders force,  
a Bullet strong did beat.  
And many more,  
by sword did lose their breath:  
And many more within the sea,  
did swim and took their death.  
There might you see,  
the salt and feming flood:  
Died and stained like scarlet red,  
with store of Spanish blood.   

This mighty vessel,  
was threescore yards in length:  
Most wonderful to each man's eye,  
for making and for strength.  
In her was placed,  
an hundredth Cannons great:  
And mightily provided eke,  
with bread-corn wine and meat.  
There was of Oats,  
two hundredth I ween:  
Threescore foot and twelve in length,  
well measured to be seen.  
And yet subdued,  
with many others more:  
And not a Ship of ours lost,  
the Lord be thanked therefore.   

Our pleasant country,  
so fruitful and so fair:  
They do intend by deadly war▪  
to make both poor and bare.  
Our towns and cities,  
to rack and sack likewise:  
To kill and murder man and wife,  
as malice doth arise.  
And to deflower  
our virgins in our sight:  
And in the cradle cruelly  
the tender babe to smite.  
God's holy truth,  
they mean for to cast down:  
And to deprive our noble Queen,  
both of her life and crown.   

Our wealth and riches,  
which we enjoyed long:  
They do appoint their prey and spoil,  
by cruelty and wrong.  
To set our houses  
a fire on our heads:  
And cursedly to cut our throats,  
as we lie in our beds.  
Our children's brains,  
to dash against the ground:  
And from the earth our memory,  
for ever to confound.  
To charge our joy,  
to grief and mourning sad:  
And never more to see the days,  
of pleasure we have had.   

But God almighty  
be blessed evermore:  
Who doth encourage Englishmen,  
to beat them from our shore.  
With roaring Cannons,  
their hasty steps to stay:  
And with the force of thundering shot  
to make them fly away.  
Who ma●e account,  
before this time or day:  
Against the walls of fair London,  
their banners to display.  
But their intent,  
the Lord will bring to nought:  
If faithfully we call and cry,  
for secure as we ought.   

And you dear brethren,  
which beareth Arms this day:  
For safeguard of your native soil,  
mark well what I shall say.  
Regard your duties,  
think on your country's good:  
And fear not in defence thereof,  
to spend your dearest blood.  
Our gracious Queen  
doth greet you every one:  
And saith she will among you be,  
in every bitter storm.  
Desiring you,  
true English hearts to bear:  
To God, and her, and to the land▪  
wherein you nursed were.   

Lord God almighty,  
which hath the hearts in hand:  
Of every person to dispose  
defend this English land.  
Bless thou our Sovereign  
with long and happy life:  
Endue her Council with thy grace,  
and end this mortal strife.  
Give to the rest,  
of Commons more and less:  
Loving hearts, obedient minds,  
and perfect faithfulness.  
That they and we,  
and all with one accord:  
On Zion hill may sing the praise,  
of our most mighty Lord.   
FINIS.  
T. D.   

LONDON.  
Printed by john Wolf, for Edward White.  
1588.