Three to One: Being, An English-Spanish Combat, Performed by a Westerne Gentleman, of Tauystoke in Deuonshire with an English Quarter-Staffe, against Three Spanish Rapiers and Poniards, at Sherries in Spaine, The fifteene day of Nouember, 1625.

In the Presence of Dukes, Condes, Marquesses, and other Great Dons of Spaine, being the Counsell of Warre.

The Author of this Booke, and Actor in this Encounter, Richard Peeeke.

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TO THE KINGS MOST EXCELLENT Maiestie.

GRATIOVS SOVERAIGNE,

IF I were againe in Spaine, I should thinke no happinesse on Earth, so great, as to come into England, and at your Royall Feete, lay downe the Story of my Dangers, and Peregrination; Which I tell, as a late Sea-wrackt Man, (tos'd and beaten with many Misfortunes;) Yet, setting my weary Body at last on a Blessed Shore: My Handes now lay hold vpon your Altar, which is to me a San­ctuary: Heere I am safe in Harbor.

That Psalme of Kingly Dauid, which I sung in my Spanish Captiuity, Psal. 137. (When as wee sate in Babilon, &c.) I now haue changed to an other [Page] Tune; saying, (with the same Prophet, Great is thy Mercy towards me (O Lord,) for thou hast deliuered my Soule from the lowest Graue. Psal. 86.13. And, as your Maiesty hath bene gratiously pleased, both to let your poore Soldier and Subiect, behold your Royall Person, and to heare him speake in his rude Language; So, if your Maie­sty, vouchsafe to cast a Princely Eye on these his vnhandsome Papers; New Sun-beames shall spread ouer him, and put a Quickning Soule into that Bosome, which otherwise must want Life, for want of your Comfort. Those Graces, from your Excellent Clemency, (already receiued) being such, that I am asha­med, and sorry, not to haue Endur'd, and to haue done more in Forreigne Countries, for the Honor of Yours; When from so High a Throane, my Souereigne Deignes to looke Downe, on a Creature so vnworthy, whose Life, he prostrates before your Highnes.

Euer resting, Your Maiesties most Humble and Loyall Subiect, RICHARD PEEKE.

Certaine Verses, VVritten by a Friend, in Comendations of the Author Richard Peeke.

SEldome doe Clowdes so dimne the day,
But Sol will once his Beames display:
Though Neptune driues the surging Seas,
Sometimes he giues them quiet ease;
And so few Proiects speed so ill,
But somewhat chaunceth at our will.
I will not instance in the Great,
Placed in Honors higher Seate;
Though Vertue in a Noble Line
Comm [...]nds i [...], and the more doth shine:
Yet this is procu'd by Sword and Pen,
Desert oft dwells in priuate Men.
My proofe is not farre hence to seeke,
There is at hand braue Richard Peeke,
Whose worth his Foes cannot reuoke,
Borne in the Towne of Tauystoke
In Deuon, where Minerua sitts
Shaping stoute Hearts, and pregnant Witts.
This well resolu'd and hardy Sparke,
Ayming at Fame, as at a Marke,
Was not compell'd against his will,
In Mars his field to try his skill:
As Voluntary he did goe,
To serue his King against his Foe.
If he had pleas'd, he might haue spent
His daies at home, in safe content:
But nurcing Valour in his brest,
He would aduenture with the Best,
Willing to shed his dearest blood,
To doe his Prince, and Countrey good.
Thus bent, he adding Winges to Feete,
Departed with the English Fleete:
There was no rub, nor stay at all,
The Shipps saild with a pleasant Gale:
In setting forth they by their hap,
Seem'd lul'd in Amphitrites lap.
At length they did arriue at Cales,
Where restles Peeke against the Walles
Made fouresccore Shot towards the Shore,
Making the Welkyn wide to rore:
He kept his standing in this strife,
Setting a straw by losse of life.
Into a Vineyard afterward
He marcht, and stood vpon his guard;
There he an Horse-man did dismount,
By outward port of good account:
But did on him compassion take,
And spar'd his life for pitties sake.
The next assault, vneuen he felt,
For with twelue Spaniards he dealt
At once, and held them lusty play,
Vntill through odds, theirs was the day:
From eare to eare they pearc'd his head,
And to the Towne him Captiue led.
In Prison they him shut by night,
Loaden with Chaines of greiuous waight,
All comfortlesse in Dungion deepe,
Where Stench annoyes, and Vermines creepe:
He grouel'd in this loathsome Cell,
Where gastly frights and horrors dwell.
Yet nothing could his courage quaile,
Hunger, nor thirst, nor wound, nor Iayle:
For being brought before a Don,
And askt, Why England did set on
A scraping, not a pecking Hen?
He answer'd, staine not English-men.
That England is a Nation stoute,
And till the last will fight it out:
My selfe could prooue by Chiualrie,
If for a Captiue this were free:
Why, (quoth the Duke) darst thou to fight
With any of my Men in fight?
Of thousands whom in Warre you vse,
Not one (quoth Peeke) doe I refuse:
A chosen Champion then there came,
Whose heeles he tript, as at a game,
And from his Hand his Rapier tooke,
Presenting it vnto the Duke.
Then three at once did him oppose,
They Rapiers, he a long Staffe chose,
The vse whereof so well he knowes,
He conquerd them with nimble blowes:
One that beside him playd his round,
He threw as dead vnto the ground.
The Noble Duke who this did see,
Commended Peeke, and set him free;
He gaue him Guifts, and did commaund
That none should wrong him in their Land;
So well he did him entertayne,
And sent him to the Court of Spayne.
There he was fed with no worse meate,
Then which the King himselfe did eate;
His Lodging rich, for he did lie
In furniture of Tapestrie:
The King what of him he had heard,
Did with his Treasure well reward.
Our then Ambassador was there,
Peekes Pike and praise he doth declare:
At Spanish Court whiles he attends,
He thriues for Vertues sake: as Friends
Foes sent him in triumphant sort
Home from a Foe and Forreigne Port.
If thus his very Foes him lou'd,
And Deeds against themselues aproou'd;
How should his Friends his loue embrace,
And yeild him countenance and grace?
The praise and worth how can we cloke
Of manly Peeke of Tauystoke?
FINIS.
J. D.

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