They never heard his whistle blow,

Which made them all full fore afraid, Then Horfely faid, My lord, aboard, For now fir Andrew Barton's dead.

Thus boarded they this gallant ship,

With right good will, and all their main, Eighteen fcore Scots alive in it,

Befides as many more were flain.

The lord went where fir Andrew lay,
And quickly then cut off his head :
"I should forfake England many a day,
If thou wert alive as thou art dead."

Thus from the wars lord Howard came,
With mickle joy and triumphing,
The pirates head he brought along,
For to prefent unto the king:

Who briefly then to him did fay,

Before he knew well what was done, Where is the knight and pirate gay? That I myself may give the doom.

You

may thank God, then faid the lord, And four men in the fhip, quoth he, That we are fafely come afhore,

Sith you never had such an enemy; That is, Henry Hunt, and Peter Simon, William Horfely, and Peters fon; Therefor reward them for their pains, For they did service in their turn.

VOL. II.

Y

То

To the merchant then the king did fay,

In lieu of what he hath from thee ta'en, I'll give to thee a noble a day,

Sir Andrews whistle, and his chain : To Peter Simon a crown a day;

And half a crown to Peters fon; And that was for a fhot fo gay,

Which bravely brought fir Andrew down.

Horfely I will make thee a knight,
And in Yorkshire thou shalt dwell;
Lord Howard fhall earl Bury hight,
For this title he deferveth well.
Seven fhillings to our English men,
Who in this fight did stoutly stand;

And twelve pence a day to the Scots till they
Come to my brother kings high land.

BALLAD XXIII.

JOHNY ARMSTRONGS LAST GOOD-NIGHT.

I

S there never a man in all Scotland,

From the highest eftate to the loweft degree, That can fhow himself now before the king, Scotland is fo full of treachery ?

Yes, there is a man in Westmoreland,
And Johny Armstrong they do him call,
He has no lands nor rents coming in,

Yet he keeps eight score men within his hall.

He

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He has horfes and harness for them all,

And goodly steeds that be milk-white, With their goodly belts about their necks, With hats and feathers all alike.

The king he writes a loving lettèr,
And with his own hand fo tenderly,
And hath fent it unto Johny Armstrong,
To come and speak with him speedily.

When John he look'd this letter upon,

Good lord, he look'd as blithe as a bird in a tree :

"I was never before a king in my life,

My father, my grandfather, nor none of us three.

But feeing we must go before the king,
Lord we will go moft gallantly;

Ye shall every one have a velvet coat,
Laid down with golden laces three:

And every one shall have a scarlet cloak,
Laid down with filver laces five;
With your golden belts about your necks,
With hats and feathers all alike."

But when John he went from Giltnock hall,

The wind it blew hard, and full faft it did rain :

"Now fare thee well, thou Giltnock-hall,

I fear I fhall never see thee again."

Now Johny is to Edinburgh gone,

With his eight score men fo gallantly,

And every one of them on a milk-white fteed,
With their bucklers and fwords hanging to their knee.

But when John came the king before,

With his eight score men fo gallant to fee,

The king he mov'd his bonnet to him,

He thought he had been a king as well as he.

O pardon, pardon, my fovereign liege,
Pardon for my eight score men and me;
For my name it is Johny Armstròng,

And a fubject of yours, my liege, faid he.

"Away with thee, thou falfe traitòr,
No pardon will I grant to thee,

But, to-morrow morning by eight of the clock,
I will hang up thy eight score men and thee."

Then Johny look'd over his left shouldèr,
And to his merry men thus faid he,

I have afk'd grace of a graceless face,
No pardon there is for you or me.

Then John pull'd out his nut brown sword,
And it was made of metal fo free,
Had not the king mov'd his foot as he did,

John had taken his head from his fair body.

"Come,

"Come, follow me, my merry men all,

We will scorn one foot for to fly,

It shall ne'er be faid we were hung like dogs,
We will fight it out moft manfully."

Then they fought on like champions bold,

For their hearts were sturdy, ftout and free, Till they had kill'd all the kings good guard, There was none left alive but two or three.

But then rofe up all Edinburgh,
They rofe up by thousands three,
A cowardly Scot came John behind,
And run him through the fair body.

Said John, Fight on my merry men all,

I am a little wounded, but am not flain, I will lay me down for to bleed a while, Then I'll rife and fight with you again.

Then they fought on like madmen all,
Till many a man lay dead upon the plain,
For they were refolved, before they would yield,
That
every man would there be flain.

So there they fought courageously,

Till most of them lay dead there and flain; But little Mufgràve that was his foot-page, With his bonny Griffel got away unta'en.

Y 3

But