And at this time durst not be seen,
Being sculking in Glen-Morriston,
Him the soldiers lighted on,
Near about the Prince’s age and size,
Genteelly drest, in no disguise.
In every feature, for’s very face,
Might well be taken in any case,
And lest he’d like a dog be hang’d,
He chose to die with sword in hand,
And round him like a mad-man struck,