61
When Sir Andrewe sawe his sister’s sonne slayne,
That man in his heart was nothinge well:
‘Fight, maisters!’ said Sir Andrewe Barton,
‘It’s time I’le to the top myselne.’
62
Then he put on the armere of prooffe,
And it was guilt with gold full cleare:
‘My brother John of Barton,’ he saide,
‘Full longe against Portingaill he it weare.’