Like a flourishing young gallant, newly come to his

land,

Who keeps a brace of painted madams at his command, And takes up a thousand pound upon his fathers land, And gets drunk in a tavern, till he can neither go nor ftand;

Like a young courtier, &c.

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

or care,

Who buyes gaudy-color'd fans to play with wanton air, And feven or eight different dreffings of other womens hair;

Like a young courtier, &c.

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

ftood,

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 fhovelboard, whereon no victuals ne'er ftood;

Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new ftudy, ftuft full of pamphlets, and plays, And a new chaplain, that fwears fafter 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 toys;

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 houfe, but our new porter John, Who relieves the poor with a thump on the back with a stone ;

Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new gentleman-ufher, whofe carriage is compleat,

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

the meat,

With awaiting-gentlewoman, whofe dreffing is very neat, Who when her lady has din'd, lets the fervants not eat ; Like a young courtier, &c.

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

For which fundry of his ancestors old manors are fold; And this is the courfe most of our new gallants hold, Which makes that good house-keeping is now grown

cold,

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

fo

IX. SIR

IX.

SIR JOHN SUCKLING's CAMPAIGNE.

When the Scottish covenanters rose up in arms, and advanced to the English borders in 1639, many of the courtiers complimented the king by raising forces at their own expence. Among thefe none were more diftinguished than the gallant Sir John Suckling, who raised a troop of horse, fo richly accoutred, that it coft him 12,000l. The like expensive equipment of other parts of the army, made the king remark, that "the Scots would fight floutly, if it were but for "the Englifhmen's fine cloaths." [Lloyd's memoirs.] When they came to action, the rugged Scots proved more than a match for the fine fhery English: many of whom behaved remarkably ill, and among the reft this splendid troop of Sir John Suckling's.

This humorous pafquil 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 vit of those times, among whofe poems it is printed in a small poetical mifcellany, intitled, "Mufarum "delicia: or the mufes recreation, containing feveral pieces " of poetique wit. 2d edition.-By Sir J. M. [Sir John "Mennis] and Ju. S. [James Smith.] Lond. 1656. 12mo. [See Wood's Athena. II. 397. 418.] In that copy is fubjoined an additional ftanza, which probably was written by this Sir John Mennis, viz.

66

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

"His money, which lately he spent-a,
"But his loft honour muft lye ftill 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 fide-a.

No Errant-knight ever went to fight

With halfe fo gay a bravado,

5

Had you feen but his look, you'ld have fworn on a book, Hee❜ld have conquer'd a whole armado.

The ladies ran all to the windows to fee
So gallant and warlike a fight-a,
And as he pafs'd by, they faid with a figh,
Sir John, why will you go fight-a?

10

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

His heart would not relent-a,

For, till he came there, what had he to fear?

15

Or why should he repent-a?

The king (God bless him!) had fingular 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,

VOL. II.

Y

20

None

None lik'd him fo 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 fo nothing pert-a.

For when the Scots army came within fight,

And all prepared to fight-a,

He ran to his tent, they ask'd what he meant,
He fwore he must needs goe fh*te-a.

The colonell fent 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 very firft man-a.

To cure his fear, he was fent to the reare,

Where Sir John did play at trip and away,

And ne'er faw the enemy more-a.

25

30

35

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 bis name became proverbial in France, where he was called De Vert. See Bayle's di