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Itt is my lord admirall of England,
Is come to seeke mee on the sea.' Simon had a sonne, who shott right well,
That did Sir Andrewe mickle scare: In att his decke he gave a shott,
Killed threescore of his men of warre.
Then Henrye Hunt with rigour hott
Came bravely on the other side,
And killed fourscore men beside.
• What may a man now thinke, or say? Yonder merchant theefe, that pierceth mee,
He was my prisoner yesterday.
Come hither to me, thou Gordon good,
That aye wast readye att my call;
If thou wilt let my beames downe fall.'
Horseley, see thou be true in stead; For thou shalt at the maine-mast hang,
If thou misse twelvescore one penny bread.'
Then Gordon swarved the maine-mast tree,
He swarved it with might and maine ; But Horseley with a bearing arrowe,
75 Stroke the Gordon through the braine ; And he fell unto the haches again,
And sore his deadlye wounde did bleed: Then word went through Sir Andrews men,
How that the Gordon hee was dead. Ver. 67, 84, pounds, MS.—Ver. 75, bearinge, sc. that carries well, &c. But see Gloss. vol. I.
Come hither to mee, James Hambilton,
Thou art my only sisters sonne,
Six hundred nobles thou hast wonne.'
He swarved it with nimble art; But Horseley with a broad arrowe
Pierced the Hambilton thorough the heart:
And downe he fell upon the deck,
That with his blood did streame amaine:
Alas a comelye youth is slaine!'
With griefe and rage his heart did swell: 'Go fetch me forth my armour of proofe,
For I will to the topcastle mysell.
Goe fetch me forth my armour of proofe;
That gilded is with gold soe cleare:
Against the Portingalls hee it ware;
He was a gallant sight to see:
My deere brother, could cope with thee.'
*Come hither Horseley,' sayes my lord,
* And looke your shaft that itt goe right, Shoot a good shoote in time of need,
And for it thou shalt be made a knight.' 'Ile shoot my best,' quoth Horseley then, “Your honour shall see, with might and
But if I were hanged at your maine-mast,
I have now left but arrowes twaine.'
Sir Andrew he did swarve the tree,
With right good will he swarved then: Upon his breast did Horseley hitt,
But the arrow bounded back agen. Then Horseley spyed a privye place
With a perfect eye in a secrette part; Under the spole of his right arme
He smote Sir Andrew to the heart.
• Fight on, my men, Sir Andrew sayes,
A little Ime hurt, but yett not slaine; Ile but lye downe and bleede a while,
And then Ile rise and fight againe. Fight on, my men,' Sir Andrew sayes,
“And never flinche before the foe; And stand fast by St. Andrewes crosse
Untill you heare my whistle blowe.'
They never heard his whistle blow,
Which made their hearts waxe sore adread: 130 Then Horseley sayd, ‘Aboard, my lord,
For well I wott Sir Andrew's dead.' They boarded then his noble shipp,
They boarded it with might and maine ; Eighteen score Scots alive they found,
The rest were either maimed or slaine.
Lord Howard tooke a sword in hand,
And off he smote Sir Andrewes head; 'I must have left England many a daye,
If thou wert alive as thou art dead.'
He caused his body to be cast
Over the hatchbord into the sea,
Wherever thou land this will bury thee.'
Thus from the warres lord Howard came,
And backe he sayled ore the maine, With mickle joy and triumphing
Into Thames mouth he came againe. Lord Howard then a letter wrote,
And sealed it with seale and ring; Such a noble prize have I brought to your grace, As never did subject to a king,
Sir Andrewes shipp I bring with mee;
A braver shipp was never none:
Before in England was but one.'
Welcomed the noble Howard home, “And where,' said he, is this rover stout,
That I myselfe may give the doome?'
•The rover, he is safe, my leige,
Full many a fadom in the sea; If he were alive as he is dead,
I must have left England many a day:
For the victory wee have wonne,
And Peter Simon, and his sonne.'
To Henry Hunt, the king then sayd,
'In lieu of what was from thee tane,
A noble a day now thou shalt have,
Sir Andrewes jewels and his chayne. And, Horseley, thou shalt be a knight,
And lands and livings shalt have store; Howard shall be erle Surrye hight,
As Howards erst have beene before.
Nowe, Peter Simon, thou art old,
I will maintaine thee and thy sonne:
For the good service they have done.'
To see Sir Andrewe Barton, knight:
And thought to have seen a gallant sight.
But when they see his deadlye face,
185 And eyes soe hollow in his head, I wold give,' quoth the king, 'a thousand markes,
This man were alive as he is dead: Yett for the manfull part hee playd,
Which fought soe well with heart and hand, 190 His men shall have twelvepence a day,
Till they come to my brother kings high land.'
A SCOTTISH SONG. The subject of this pathetic ballad the Editor once thought might possibly relate to the Earl of Bothwell, and his desertion of his wife, Lady Jean Gordon, to make room for his marriage with the Queen of Scots. But this opinion he now believes to be groundless ; indeed Earl Bothwell's age, who was upwards of sixty at the time of that marriage, renders it unlikely that he should
Ver. 175, 6, . . . Erle of Nottingham, And soe was never, &c. MS.