And through the land there’s many a scout.
But do you think, if he were here,
He would be safe, in such a stir?
Ay, safe be sure, whate’er they do,
I wish we had him here just now.
Then said he, John, he’s in your house;
But to salute him, be cautious:
Because your wife, nor none else knows,
By the name of Lewis Cawe he goes,
My servant, a surgeon’s son in Crief,