Gallus hath been this summer-time in Friesland,
And now, return'd, he speaks such warlike words,
As, if I could their English understand,
I fear me they would cut my throat like swords;
He talks of counter-scarfs, and casamates,
Of parapets, curtains, and palisadoes;
Of flankers, ravelins, gabions he prates,
And of false-brays, and sallies, and scaladoes.
But, to requite such gulling terms as these,
With words to my profession I reply;
I tell of fourching, vouchers, and counterpleas,
Of withernams, essoins, and champarty.
So, neither of us understanding either,
We part as wise as when we came together.