Can't thou fhow me, the lord did fay, His name is Andrew Barton, knight? As I, my lord, did fail from France, Who robb'd me of my merchant-ware; And mickle debts, God knows, I owe, And every man doth crave his own, And I am bound to London now; Of our gracious king to beg a boon. Show me him, faid lord Howard then, For little you think what man he is. He is brafs within, and steel without, With beams for his top-caftle, As being alfo huge and high, That neither English nor Portugal Can fir Andrew Barton pass by. Hard news thou show'ft, then faid the lord, But, as I faid, I'll bring him aboard, Nor ftrive to let his beams down fall. Lend me seven pieces of ordnance then, A glafs I'll fet, that may be feen, Whether you fail by day or night, And to-morrow, be fure, before feven, The merchant fet my lord a glass, So well apparent in his fight, That on the morrow, as his promife was, Fetch Fetch me my Lion out of hand, Saith the lord, with rose and streamer high, Set up withall a willow wand, That merchant like I may pass by. Thus bravely did lord Howard pass, And did on anchor rife fo high; No top-fail at all he cast, But as a foe he did him defy. Sir Andrew Barton feeing him For him and all his company; Then call'd he for his men amain, Fetch back yon pedler now, quoth he, A piece of ordnance foon was shot, Which cruel fhot kill'd fourteen men, Look 'now' thy word do ftand in stead, Then Peter Simon gave a shot, Which did fir Andrew mickle scare, In at his deck it came fo hot, Kill'd fifteen of his men of war: breadth. Alas, Alas, then faid the pirate ftout, I am in danger now I fee; Then Henry Hunt, with rigour hot, Who likewife fhot in at his deck, And kill'd fifty of his men befide: Then, Out alas, fir Andrew cried, Then did he on Gordion call, And bid his beams he should let fall, For he greatly fear'd an overthrow. Look that thy word now stand in stead, Then up the maft-tree fwerved he, Shot him undèr his collar-bone. I thou wilt to the top-caftle go. Then Then ftoutly he began to climb, From off the maft fcorn'd to depart; But Horfely foon prevented him, And deadly pierc'd him to the heart. Did this proud pirate climb with speed, Come hither Horfely, faid the lord, And if thou speed I'll make thee knight. With right good will, and all his main, Then Horfely 'pied a private place, And fmote fir Andrew to the heart. Fight on, fight on, my merry men all, A little I am hurt, yet not flain, I'll but lie down and bleed a while, And come and fight with you again." And do not, faid he, fear English rogues, And of our foes ftand not in awe, But ftand faft by Saint Andrews crofs, Untill you hear my whistle blow. They |