His brains did lie more in his tail than's head,
Sprouted of royal stem, in ancient days;
'Tis an ill bird that his own nest bewrays.
Next, Monmouth came in with an army of fools,
Betrayed by his cuckold, and other dull tools,
Who painted the turf of green Sedgemore with gules.
The Riddle of the Roundhead.
Perkin makes fine legs to the shouting rabble,