‘Fight on, my men!’ says Sir Andrew Barton,
‘I am hurt, but I am not slain;
I’le lay me downe and bleed a-while,
And then I’le rise and fight again.
LXV
‘Fight on, my men!’ says Sir Andrew Barton,
‘These English dogs they bite so lowe;
Fight on for Scotland and Saint Andrew
While that you hear my whistle blowe!’
LXVI
But when they co’ld not hear his whistle,
Says Henery Hunt, ‘I’le lay my head
You may board yonder noble ship, my lord,
For I know Sir Andrew he is dead.’
LXVII
With that they boarded this noble ship,
So did they it with might and main;
They found eighteen score Scots alive,
Besides the rest were maim’d and slaine.
LXVIII
Lord Howard took a sword in his hand,
And so smote off Sir Andrew’s head;
The Scots stood by did weepe and mourne,
But never a word they spoke or sayd.