The Life and Death of the Famous THOMAS STUKELY: An English Gallant in time of Queen Elizabeth, who ended his Life in a Battle of 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 should 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 crest,  
maintaining of himself in gallant sort.   

Being thus esteemed,  
And  well deemed,  
he gained the favour of a London Dame,  
Daughter to an Alderman,  
Curtis 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 pleasure,  
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.   

Tavens and ordinaries,  
Were his chiefest braveries,  
golden angels there flew up and down;  
Riots were his best delight,  
With stately feasting day and nigh,  
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 've heard.   

Where at 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  and so I'll go my way.   

Cruelly 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 follow 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 secrets all did know,  
and bore his royal standard now and then.   

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

The cannons they rebounded,  
Thundering guns resounded,  
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 heavy 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 sighing said, ' I woeful wight,  
‛ Against my conscience here do fight,  
‛ and brought my followers all unto decay.   

Being thus molested,  
And with grief oppressed,  
those brave 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,  
 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;  
‛ What 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,  
 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 turret's piercing to the sky.    

Printed for A.M. W.O. and T. Thackeray, at the Angel in Duck-lane.