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They never heard his whistle blow,

Which made them all full sore afraid, Then Horsely said, 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 score Scots alive in it,

Besides as many more were slain. The lord went where fir Andrew lay,

And quickly then cut off his head : “ I hould 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 present unto the king : Who briefly then to him did say,

Before he knew well what was done, Where is the knight and pirate gay?

That I myself may give the doom.


may thank God, then said the lord, And four men in the ship, quoth he, That we are safely come alhore,

Sith you never had such an enemy; That is, Henry Hunt, and Peter Simon,

William Horsely, and Peters son ; Therefor reward them for their pains,

For they did service in their turn.



To the merchant then the king did say,

In lieu of what he hath from thee ta’en, I'll give to thce 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 shot so gay,

Which bravely brought fir Andrew down.

Horsely I will make thee a knight,

And in Yorkshire thou shalt dwell ; Lord Howard Thall earl Bury hight,

For this title he deserveth well.
Seven Shillings to our English men,

Who in this fight did stoutly ftand;
And twelve pence a day to the Scots till they

Come to my brother kings high land.



I prone the higher eflate

to the lowelt degree,

That can show himself now before the king,

Scotland is so full of treachery?

Yes, there is a man in Weltmoreland,

And Johny Armstrong they do him call, Ble has no lands nor rents coming in,

Yet he keeps eight score men within his hall.


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He has horses 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 letter,

And with his own hand so tenderly,
And hath sent it unto Johny Armstròng,

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 li

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

But seeing 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 silver 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 fast it did rain : “ Now fare thee well, thou Giltnock-hall,

I fear I shall never see thee again.”

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No Jobsy is to Edinbargh gone,
Viich his eight icke mea io galanty,

And every one of them on a nik-waite fieed,

With their bucklers and snords hanging to their knee.

But when John came the king before,

With his eight score men fo gallant to see, The king he mov'd his bonnet to him,

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

O pardon, pardon, my sovereign liege,

Pardon for my eight score men and me; For my name it is Johny Armstrong,

And a subject of yours, my liege, said he.

Away with thee, thou false 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 shoulder,

And to his merry men thus said he, I have alk'd grace of a graceless face,

No pardon there is for you or me.

Then John pulld out his nut brown sword,

And it was made of metal so free,
Ilad 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 said we were hung like dogs,

We will fight it out most manfully."

Then they fought on like champions bold,

For their hearts were sturdy, stout and free,
Till they had kill'd all the kings good guard,

There was none left alive but two or three.

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But then rose up all Edinburgh,

They rose 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 slain,
I will lay me down for to bleed a while,

Then I'll rise and fight with you again.

Then they fought on like madmen all,

Till many a man lay dead upon the plain,
For they were resolved, before they would yield,

every man would there be flain.

So there they fought courageously,

Till most of them lay dead there and fain;
But little Musgràve that was his foot-page,

With his bonny Griffel got away unta’en.

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