The Life and Death of the Famous THOMAS STUKELY: An English Gallant in time of Queen Elizabeth, who ended his Life in a Battle three Kings of Barbary.  
Tune is, King Henry's going to Bulloign, etc.  
 

IN the West of England,  
born there was, I understand,  
a famous Gallant was he in his days,  
By birth, a wealthy Clothier's son,  
Deeds of wonders he hath done,  
to purchase him a long and lasting praise.   

If I would tell his story,  
Pride was all his glory,  
and Lusty Stukely, he was called in Court,  
He served a Bishop in the west,  
And did accompany the best,  
maintaining of himself to gallant sort.   

Being thus esteemed,  
And every where well deemed,  
he gained the favour of a London Dame,  
Daughter to an Alderman,  
Curties she was called then,  
to whom a suitor gallantly he came,   

When she his person spied,  
He could not be denied,  
so brave a Gentleman he was to see;  
She was quickly made his wife,  
In weal or woe to lead her life;  
her Father willing; thereto did agree.   

Thus in state and leisure,  
Full many days they measure,  
till cruel Death with his regardless spite,  
Bore old Curtis to the grave,  
A thing that Stukely wished to have,  
that he might revel all in gold so bright.   

He was no sooner tombed,  
but Stukely he presumed,  
to spend a hundred pound a day in waste;  
The greatest Gallants in the land  
Had Stukely's purse at their command,  
thus merrily the time away he past.   

Taverns and Ordinaries,  
Were his chief braveries,  
golden angels there flew up and down;  
Riots were his best delight,  
With stately feasting day and night,  
in Court and City thus he won renown.   

Thus wasting lands and living,  
By this lawless giving,  
at length he sold the pavements of the yard,  
which covered were with blocks of tin,  
Old Curtis left the same to him,  
which he consumed lately as you have heard.  
Whereat his wife sore grieved,  
Desiring to be relieved.  
‛ Make much of me dear husband, she did say.  
‛ I'll make much more of thee (said he)  
‛ Than any one shall verily,  
‛ I'll sell thy clothes, and so i'll go my way.   

Truly thus hard hearted  
Away from her he parted,  
and travelled into Italy with speed;  
There he flourished many a day,  
In his silks and rich array,  
and did the pleasures of a Lady feed,   

It was the Lady's pleasure,  
To give him goods and treasure,  
for to maintain him in great pomp and fame;  
At last came news assuredly,  
Of a fought battle in Barbary,  
and he would valiantly go see the same.   

Many a Noble Gallant.  
Sold both land and talon  
to fallow Stukely in his famous fight;  
Whereas three Kings in person would  
Adventurously with courage bold,  
within this battle show themselves in fight.   

Stukely, and his followers all  
Of the King of Portugal,  
had entertainment like to Gentlemen;  
The King affected Stukely so,  
That he his Sacrets all did know,  
and boar his royal standard now and then.   

Upon this day of honour,  
Each man did show his banner,  
Morocco, and the King of Barbary:  
Portugal, and all his train,  
Bravely glittering on the plain,  
and gave the on●ct there most valiantly.   

The Cannons they rebounded,  
Thundering Guns relounded,  
Kill, kill, than was all the Soldiers cry;  
Mangled men lay on the ground,  
And with blood the earth was drowned,  
the Sun likewise was darkened in the Sky.   

Heaven was so displeased,  
And would not be appeased,  
but tokens of God's wrath did show,  
That he was angry at this war,  
He sent a fearful blazing-star,  
whereby the Kings might their misfortunes know.   

Bloody was the slaughter,  
Or rather wilful murder,  
where six score thousand fight men were slain:  
Three Kings within this Battle died,  
with forty Dukes and Earls beside,  
the like will never more be fought again.   

With woeful arms infolding,  
Stukely stood beholding  
this bloody sacrifice of Souls that day:  
He singing said, ' I woeful wight,  
‛ Against my Conscience here do fight,  
‛ and brought my followers unto decay.   

Being thus molested  
And with grief oppressed,  
those brrave Italians that did sell their lands,  
With Stukely for to Travel forth,  
And venture life for little worth,  
upon him all did lay their murdering hands.   

Unto death thus wounded  
His heart with sorrow swooned:  
and to them thus he made his heavy moan,  
Thus have I left my Country dear,  
To be so vilely murdered here.  
even in this place whereas I am not known.   

My Wife I have much wronged  
Of what to her belonged,  
I vainly spent in idle course of life;  
Whaat I have had is past I see,  
And bringeth nought but grief to me,  
therefore grant me pardon gentle Wife.   

Life I see consumeth,  
And death I see presumeth,  
to change this life of mine into a new:  
Yet this my greatest comfort brings,  
I lived and died in love of Kings:  
and so brave Stukely bids the world adieu.   

Stukely's life thus ended,  
Was after death befriended,  
and like a Soldier buried gallantly:  
Where now there stands upon the Grave,  
A stately Temple builded brave,  
with Golden Turrets piersiing to the Sky.    

Printed by and for C. B. and sold by J. Walter, at the Hand and Pen in Holborn.