All woe begone was Sir Andrew then, 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, Against the Portingalls hee it ware. Ah! nere didst thou meet with living wight, "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 maine But if I were hanged at your maine-mast, Sir Andrew he did swarve the tree, 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, 66 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: For well I wott Sir Andrew's dead." They boarded it with might and maine; The rest were either maimed or slaine. Lord Howard tooke a sword in hand, And off he smote Sir Andrewes head; Over the hatchbord into the sea, And about his middle three hundred crownes: Thus from the warres Lord Howard came, 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, * That is the Great Harry, built in 1504, at an expense of fourteen thousand pounds. "The rover, he is safe, my liege, Full many a fadom in the sea; If he were alive as he is dead, I must have left England many a day. And your grace may thank four men i' the ship For the victory wee have wonne ; These are William Horseley, Henry Hunt, And Peter Simon, and his sonne." "To Henry Hunt," the king then sayd, As Howards erst have been before. "Nowe, Peter Simon, thou art old, I will maintaine thee and thy sonne; They weend that hee were brought on shore, But when they see his deadlye face, And eyes soe hollow in his head, "I wold give," quoth the king, "a thousand markes This man were alive as hee is dead. Yett for the manfull part hee playd, Which fought soe well with heart and hand, His men shall have twelvepence a day, Till they come to my brother kings high land." BRAVE LORD WILLOUGH BEY. "Peregrine Bertie, Lord Willoughby of Eresby, had, in the year 1586, distinguished himself at the siege of Zutphen, in the Low Countries. He was the year after made general of the English forces in the United Provinces, in room of the Earl of Leicester, who was recalled. This gave him an opportunity of signalizing his courage and military skill in several actions against the Spaniards. One of these, greatly exaggerated by popular report, is probably the subject of this old ballad, which, on account of its flattering encomiums on English valour, hath always been a favourite with the people. "Lord Willoughbie died in 1601.-Both Norris and Turner were famous among the military men of that age."-PERCY. HE fifteenth day of July, With glistering spear and shield, A famous fight in Flanders Was foughten in the field: The next was Captain Norris, From field would never flee. With fifteen hundred fighting men, Alas! there were no more, They fought with fourteen thousand then, |