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Like a flourishing young gallant, newly come to his

Who keeps a brace of painted madams at his command,
And takes up a thousand pound upon his father's land,
And gets drunk in a tavernt, till he can reither go nor

Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new-fangled lady, that is dainty, nice, and spare, Who never knew what belong'd to good house-keeping,

or care, Who buyes gaudy-color'd fans to play with wanton air, And seven or eight different dressings of other womens

hair ;

Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new-fashion'd hall, built where the old one

tood, Hung round with new pictures, that do the poor no

good, With a fine marble chimney, wherein burns neither coal

nor wood, And a new smooth shovelboard, whereon no victuals

ne'er stood;
Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new study, stuft full of pamphlets, and plays, And a new chaplain, that swears faster than he prays,

With a new buttery hatch, that opens once in four or

five days, And a new French cook, to devise fine kickshaws, and

Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new fashion, when Christmas is drawing on,
On a new journey to London straight we all must begone,
And leave none to keep house, but our new porter John,
Who relieves the poor with a thump on the back with

a ftone;
Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new gentleman-usher, whose carriage is com

pleat, With a new coachman, footmen, and pages to carry up

the meat, With a waiting-gentlewoman, whofe dressing is very neat, Who when her lady has din'd, lets the servants not eat;

Like a young courtier, &c.

With new titles of honour bought with his father's old

For which sundry of his ancestors old manors are sold;
And this is the course moft of our new gallants hold,
Which makes that good house-keeping is now grown fo

Among the young courtiers of the king,
Or the king's young courtiers.



When the Scottish covenanters rose up in arms, and ad: vanced to the English borders in 1639, many of the courtiers complimented the king by raisng forces at their own expence, Among these none were more distinguished than the gallant Sir John Suckling, who raised a troop of horse, so richly accoutred, that it cost him 12,000l.' The like expenfive equipment of other parts of the army, made the king re. mark, that the Scots would fight ficutly, if it were but for the Englishmen's fine cloaths.' [Lloyd's Memoirs.] When they came to action, the rugged Scots proved more than a match for the fine frewy English: many of whom behaved remarkably ill, and among the rest this splendid troop of Sir John Suckling's.

This humorous pasquil has been generally supposed to have been written by Sir John, as a banter upon himself. Some of his contemporaries however attributed it to Sir John Mennis, a wit of thofe times, among whose poems it is printed in a small poetical miscellany, intitled, Mufarum « deliciæ : or the Muses recreation, containing several pieces of poetique wit, 2d. edition. By Sir 7. M. [Sir John Mennis) and Ja, S. (James Smith.] Lond. 1656, 12mo."

See Wood's Athene. II. 397, 418.] In that copy is fubjoined an additional fianza, which probably was written by this Sir John Mennis, viz.

* But

" But now there is peace, he's return'd to increafe

His money, which lately he spent-a,
But his lof honour must lye fill in the duft;

" At Barwick away it went-a."

IR John he 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

5 With halfe so gay a bravada, Had you seen but his look, you'ld have sworn on a book,

Hee’ld have conquer'd a whole armada.


The ladies ran all to the windows to see

So gallant and warlike a fight-a,
And as he pass’d by, they said with a figh,

Sir John, why will you go fight-a ?

But he, like a cruel knight, spurr'd on;

His heart would not relent-a,
For, till he came there, what had he to fear?

Or why should he repent-a?


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.


Y 4

None lik'd him so well, as his own colonell,

Who took him for John de Wert-a;
But when there were shows of gunning and blows,

My gallant was nothing fo pert-a.

For when the Scots army came within sight,

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,
But Sir John did swear, he would not come there,
To be kill'd the


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,

And ne'er saw the enemy more-a,


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 biş name became proverbial in France, where he was called De Vert. Se Bayle's Dici.

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