322 Notes on Sport and Travel w 



'The sword at thy back was a great black blade, 

 With a great basket hilt of iron made ; 

 But now a long rapier doth hang by thy side, 

 And huffingly doth this bonny Scot ride.' 



In fine, as the bagpipe was driven northwards out 

 of England by the refined and delicate strains of 

 Johannes Cooprario^ and Alfonso Ferrabosco, those 

 sweet Italian masters, so was the honest but rude 

 broadsword of Andrea Ferrara driven in the same 

 direction by the more deadly and delicate Spanish 

 weapon. And now, both having gone as far north 

 as they can, both must cease, having no farther to 

 go, and no southern country willing to receive either 

 of them again. Indeed, one hath already gone, 

 after doing as great deeds of daring in the hands of 

 gallant men as ever were done by weapon. And 

 let us not forget that in Northern Scottish hands it 

 won the last fight which will probably ever be won 

 by foot swordsmen against soldiers armed with 

 musket and firelock. 



And so, with hearty hoping that North Britons 

 will not take huffe nor snuffe at these kindly criti- 

 cisms from one who loveth them and their land, but 

 will bear with me as a kindly chirurgeon, who hurteth 

 them only for their good, I will say farewell, fearing, 

 however, that these delusions be, as Philocrates his 

 mottoe sayeth, 



' Scotched and not kilt.' 



^ Johannes Cooprario, however, was none other than simple John 

 Cooper, so early had the humbug of Italianising names begun ; his 

 being, I fancy, about the earliest. — Ed. 



