The king (God bless him!) had singular hopes
Of him and all his troop-a:
The borderers they, as they met him on the way,
For joy did hollow, and whoop-a. 20
None lik'd him so well, as his own colonell,
Who took him for John de Wert-a;[826]
But when there were shows of gunning and blows,
My gallant was nothing so pert-a.
For when the Scots army came within sight, 25
And all prepared to fight-a,
He ran to his tent, they ask'd what he meant,
He swore he must needs goe sh*te-a.
The colonell sent for him back agen,
To quarter him in the van-a, 30
But Sir John did swear, he would not come there,
To be kill'd the very first man-a.
To cure his fear, he was sent to the reare,
Some ten miles back, and more-a;
Where Sir John did play at trip and away, 35
And ne'er saw the enemy more-a.
FOOTNOTES:
[826] Ver. 22. John de Wert was a German general of great reputation, and the terror of the French in the reign of Louis XIII. Hence his name became proverbial in France, where he was called De Vert. See Bayle's Dict.
X.
TO ALTHEA FROM PRISON.
