Part 2 — CXLIII

Sir John got him an ambling nag, To Scotland for to ride-a, With a hundred horse more, all his own he swore, To guard him on every side-a. No errant knight ever went to fight With half so gay a bravado; Had you seen but his look, you'd have sworn on a book He'd have conquered a whole armado. The ladies ran all to the windows to see So gallant and warlike a sight-a, And as he pass'd by, they began to cry, 'Sir John, why will you go fight-a?' But he like a cruel knight spurred on, His heart did not relent-a; For, till he came there, he show'd no fear; Till then, why should he repent-a? The king (Heaven 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 holloa and whoop-a. None liked him so well as his own colonel, Who took him for John de Wert-a; But when there were shows of gunning and blows, My gallant was nothing so pert-a. For when the Scots' army came within sight, And all men prepared to fight-a, He ran to his tent; they ask'd what he meant; He swore that his stomach ached quite-a. The colonel sent for him back again, To quarter him in the van-a, But Sir John did swear, he came not there To be kill'd the very first man-a. To cure his fear he was sent to the rear, Some ten miles back and more-a; Where he did play at trip and away, And ne'er saw the enemy more-a. But now there is peace, he's return'd to increase His money which lately he spent-a; But his lost honour must still lie in the dust; At Berwick away it went-a.