CXLIII Sir John Suckling’s Campaign
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.
Old Ballad