with that hee swarned the maine-mast tree,
soe did he itt with might and maine:
Horseley with a bearing arrow
stroke the Gourden through the braine, 212
And he ffell into the haches againe,
& sore of this wound that he did bleed.
then word went throug Sir Andrews men,
that they Gourden hee was dead. 216
"come hither to me, Iames Hambliton,—
thou art my sisters sonne, I haue no more,—
I will giue [thee] 600li.
If thou will lett my beanes downe ffall." 220
with that hee swarned the maine-mast tree,
soe did hee itt with might and maine:
Horseley with an-other broad Arrow
strake the yeaman through the braine, 224
that hee ffell downe to the haches againe:
sore of his wound that hee did bleed.
itt is verry true, as the welchman sayd,
couetousness getts no gaine. 228
but when hee saw his sisters sonne slaine,
Lord! in his heart hee was not well.
"goe ffeitch me downe my armour of proue,
ffor I will to the topcastle my-selfe. 232
goe ffeitch me downe my armour of prooffe,
for itt is guilded with gold soe cleere.
god be with my brother, Iohn of Bartton!
amongst the Portingalls hee did itt weare." 236
but when hee had his armour of prooffe,
& on his body hee had itt on,
euery man that looked att him
sayd, "gunn nor arrow hee neede feare none!" 240
"come hither, Horsley!" sayes my Lord Haward,
"& looke your shaft that itt goe right;
shoot a good shoote in the time of need,
& ffor thy shooting thoust be made a Knight." 244
"Ile doe my best," sayes Horslay then,
"your honor shall see beffore I goe;
if I shold be hanged att your mainemast,
I haue in my shipp but arrowes tow." 248
but att Sir Andrew hee shott then;
hee made sure to hitt his marke;
vnder the spole of his right arme
hee smote Sir Andrew quite throw the hart. 252
yett ffrom the tree hee wold not start,
but hee clinged to itt with might & maine.
vnder the coller then of his Iacke,
he stroke Sir Andrew thorrow the braine. 256
"ffight on my men," sayes Sir Andrew Bartton,
"I am hurt, but I am not slaine;
Ile lay mee downe & bleed a-while,
& then Ile rise & ffight againe. 260
ffight on my men," sayes Sir Andrew Bartton,
"these English doggs they bite soe lowe;
ffight on ffor Scottland & Saint Andrew
till you heare my whistle blowe!" 264
but when thé cold not heare his whistle blow,
sayes Harry Hunt, "Ile lay my head
you may bord yonder noble shipp, my Lord,
for I know Sir Andrew hee is dead." 268
with that they borded this noble shipp,
soe did they itt with might & maine;
thé ffound 18 score Scotts aliue,
besids the rest were maimed & slaine. 272
My Lord Haward tooke a sword in his hand,
& smote of Sir Andrews head.
the Scotts stood by, did weepe & mourne,
but neuer a word durst speake or say. 276
he caused his body to be taken downe,
& ouer the hatch-bord cast into the sea,
& about his middle 300 crownes:
"wheresoeuer thou lands, itt will bury thee." 280
with his head they sayled into England againe
with right good will & fforce & meanye,
& the day beffore New yeeres euen
& into Thames mouth againe they came. 284
My Lord Haward wrote to King Heneryes grace,
with all the newes hee cold him bring:
"such a new yeeres gifft I haue brought to your gr[ace],
As neuer did subiect to any King. 288