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It is ill to make a bowing horn of a tods tail. If ever ye make a lucky pudding, I shall eat the prick. It that God will give, the Devil cannot reave. In a good time I speak it, in a better I leave it. It's a silly pack that may not pay the custom. I have seen as light a green. It's a cold coal to blow at. It is a fair feild where all are dung down. It's a fair dung bairn that dare not greit.
Your estate is Beyond a privat mans: your Brothers, Sonnes, Frendes, Famylies, made rich in trust and honours: Nay, this grave Maurice, this now Prince of Orange, Whose popularitie you weakely envy, Was still by you commaunded: for when did he Enter the feild but 'twas by your allowaunce? What service undertake which you approv'd not? What victory was won in which you shard not?
If they had equall powre to man their wills And hope, to fling their miseries upon us, I that nere feard an Army in the feild, A body of most choice and excellent Soldiers And led by Captaines honourd for experience: Can I feare them or shake at their poore whispers?
I begin to entertain strong hope of his restoration by these sweats. in the evening Joseph Feild returned in surch of his horses which had left them last evening and returned to camp. Feilds informed us that himself and his brother whom he had left at their camp 6 ms. distant on Collin's creek, had killed 3 deer.
Take a close way home And clap your spurres on roundly. Mod. No place safe for me! This Prince has long armes, and his kindled anger A thousand eyes Make hast and raise the Cuntry. Enter Captn & Soldiers. Cap. This was a narrow scape; he was ith' feild, sure. Sold. Yes, that was certaine he that ridd of by us, When we stood close ith' brakes. Cap. A devill take it!
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