I call’d, but she answer’d me not:
She fear’d that some danger might be
Sly lurking beneath the red coat.
If red will affrighten my dear,
I’ll dress in the good russet grey,
Abandon my sword and my spear,
And cast my bright armour away.
No more I’ll attend to the drum;
But take up my shuttle and weave:
From that sure no danger can come,