 | The Knave of Harts |  |
A theeuing Knaue.
This Gentleman hath neyther house nor land,Nor any trade of life, but bidding Stand.
Stay quarter-day, he neuer can abide,
But takes vp rent vpon the High-way side.
Deliuer him your Purse, or else you dye:
His fearefull enemie is Hue and Cry,
VVhich at the heeles so hants his frighted ghost,
That he at last, in foot-mans Inne must host.
Some Castle dolorets compos'd of stone:
Like (let me see) Newgate is such a one.
There he denies, forsweares, with execration,
Renouncing heauen, and wishing for damnation
If euer he entended such a deede,
Or in his heart, so base a thought could breede;
But when his actions once are truely try'd,
And Iustice comes the matter to decide,
He is committed to the Hang-mans hand,
VVho charmes his tongue for euer bidding stand:
In Tiburne-text his Epitaph then be:
I, others rob'd; the Hang-man rifled mee.
| The Knave of Harts | |