University of Virginia Library

The Knaue of Spades.

One good turne asketh another.

One put a iest on's wife, (whose name I show not)
To try her wit or pacience, which, I know not.
Walking together, they a wench did meet,
A proper one, of beautie passing sweet,
Of whome, vnto his wife (my loue he said)
Behold and note well yonder dainty Maid,
She was my Mistris ere I met with thee,
A kinder creature I did neuer see,
So affable and gentle in her louing,
That of her like I neuer had the prouing,
But she hath one exceeding imperfection,
Neglecting euen her credit's chiefe protection:
For, what we wantons, euer did amisse,
She told her Mother, euen to a kisse.
Husband (quoth she) that proues your wench a foole,
My selfe am better taught in Venus Schoole,
For ere I met with you, I lou'd yong-men,
And we had meetings too like Cocke and Hen:
But I was neuer such a seely asse
To tell my Mother what good sport did passe:
Troth wife (quoth he) I hope you do but iest:
Husband (said she) because plaine dealing's best,
If you meane earnest, or your selfe belye,
Iust in the humor you are, so am I.

Like Maister like Man.

Two Seruing-men, or rather two men seruers.
(For vnto God they were but ill deseruers,)
Conferd together kindly, Knaue, with Knaue,
What fitting Maisters, for their turnes they haue.
Mine (quoth the one) is of a bountious sprite,
And in the Tauerne will be drunke all night:
Spending most lauishly he knowes not what,
But I haue wit to make good vse of that.
Mine (quoth the tother) loues to drinke carowse
And is for Tauerne and for bawdy house.
For if he meet a whoore that's to his mind,
No money parts them, oh hee's pockey kind,
He hath some humors very strange and odde:
As euery day at Church, and ne're serue God
With secret hidden vertues otherwayes,
As often on his knees, yet neuer prayes,
Quoth tother how dost proue this obscure talke?
Why man he haunts the Church, that's Paules to walke,
And for his often being on the knee,
Tis drinking healths, as drunken humors be.
It's passing good (I doe protest) quoth tother,
I thinke thy maister be my maisters brother,
For sure in qualities they may be kinne:
Those very humors he is daily in,
For drinking healths, and being churched so,
They cheeke by iowle, may with each other goe,
But pre thee let vs two in loue goe drinke,
And on these matters, for our profit thinke,
To handle such two maisters, turne vs loose,
Sheare thou the sheepe, and I will plucke the goose.

To the olde yong Man.

Th' art old and graue, and onely fit for graue,
And hast all griefes that aged gray ones haue,
Deafe eares, blind eyes, the palsie, gout, and mur,
And cold would kill thee but for fire and fur.
Yet thou dost hate to heare of old and Weake,
And of thy end wilt neither thinke or speake,
Nor measure life by length of Dauids span,
But wilt be held a strong and lusty man,
Well, since thy age of youth doth loue to lye,
Ile say th' art yong (in grace) to learne to dye.

The Country cunning Man.

Stand backe you figure flingers, and giue place,
Here's goodman Gosling will you all disgrace.
You that with heauen's 12. houses deale so hie,
You oft want chambers for your felues to lie.
Wise Gosling, did but heare the scrich-owle crie,
And told his wife, and straight a pigge did die.
Another time, (after that scuruie Owle)
When Ball his Dog at twelue a clocke did howle,
He iogd his wife, and ill lucke Madge did say,
And Fox by morning stole a Goose away.
Besides he knowes foule weather, raine or haile,
Euen by the wagging of his dun Cowes taile.
When any Theeues, his Hens and Duckes purfew,
He knowes it by the Candles burning blew.
Or if a Rauen cry iust o're his head,
Some in the Towne haue lost their maiden head.
For losse of Cattell, and for fugitiues,
Heele find out with a Siue, and rustie kniues.
His good daies are when's Chaffer is well sold,
And bad daies when his wife doth braule and scold.

To the Saint in shew, and Deuill in practise.

Thou best of all men, for thy outside praise,
Yet worst of all men as thy inside saies,
That like a Tradesmans ware vpon his stall,
Sets out the good, to vtter bad withall.
Thou doest abhor all swearing (and dost well)
Yet for thy gaine a lie wilt smoothly tell.
Thou hat'st a drunkards vice (which hate is good)
Yet wilt deceiue, pretending Brother-hood.
Thou doest condemne the Prodigals expence,
Yet wilt embrace the Vsurers offence,
And in a word thou think'st it may suffice,
If thou canst maske thy sins from humane eies,
Consorting with the vertuous and most ciuill,
Like Iobs audacious, bold and saucie deuill:
Who compassing the earth (soules to molest)
Amongst the Sons of God, flood with the best:
How euer thou dost thinke thy faults obscure,
And mak'st account to be esteemed pure,
There is an eye that no man can delude,
Such hypocrites, from mercie will exclude.

The Country Cormorant.

Wife 'tis the onely yeare since we were borne,
To make vs rich by hording vp our corne,
I heare rare newes, the markets rise apace:
The world will mend if this hold out a space.
Within my barne is that must bring in Gold,
Wheat, Rie, and Barlie will be brauely sold:
Let these same hungry needy Rats and Myce
Famish, I care not, I will haue my price,
And let spice conscience fellows talke their fill,
Mine owne's mine owne, to vse it as I will:
Shall I be taught to buie and sell by any?
No, Ile make profit to the vtmost penny,
Let our sir Domine preach peace and plenty,
And let me sell my wheat by bushell at twenty,
For all his prating I not care a fig,
I know he will not loose a tything pig,
Nor will I let aduantage slip away:
If this yeare (wife) proue, not as I doe say,
Ile take a halter and go hang me then.
Let all that hate a villaine, say, Amen.

Patience Perforce.

A quiet man (to wrath and anger flow)
Match'd with a queane (a most she-deuill shrow)
That kept him in obedience with her fist,
To doe, or leaue vndone, euen what she list.
Vpon a time (choller growne very hot,
Against the haire) a broken pate he got,
But patiently wore night-cap sickeman like,
And vow'd a woman he would neuer strike,
Being content to pocket that abuse,
And keepe true manhood for a better vse.
A friend met with him, and demanded why
He wore a linnen cap so pensiuely?
Alas (quoth he) sorrow doth much offend,
My wife's so ill I feare she n'ere will mend,
No Doctor that will vndertake her cure,
For greife where of great head-ache I endure.
And had besides a flux of blood of late
To thinke vpon her desperate estate:
Shee's sencelesse growne, and will no reason heare,
And so will lie long on my hand I feare.
When the fit comes she is outragious mad,
Oh tis an old disease her mother had,
Runs through the blood, because t'was bred i'th bone,
But here's my comfort, I am not alone:
Diuers my Neighbours I doe vnderstand,
Haue wiues with like diseases on their hand,
Whose fits they must endure as I doe mine,
Which makes me beare my crosse with lesse repine.
A Doctor that did view her vrine late,
Hath thus describ'd her desperate estate,
She hath a female frenzie in the braine,
Her tongue the curelesse palsie doth containe,
In speach growne sencelesse, reason doth abhor it,
Her heart is heart-burn'd, there's no cooling for it:
Her stomacke full of choller, corrupt gall,
Her fingers, fists, and nailes, rancke venim all,
No potion, nor no pill, can do her good,
Sweet gentle Doctor Death come let her blood.

Tobacco carted to Tyburne.

A Fleming late that kild one with a knife,
Carried by cart to end his wretched life,
Toward Tiburne riding did Tobacco take,
(To purge his head against his heeles did shake.)
But I durst lay ten pounds to twenty shilling,
To take his purge no wise-man will be willing:
Though Englishmen are apt for imitation,
Yet Maisters, let the Dutchman keepe his fashion:
For howsoe're it with his liking stood,
The smoaking did his choaking little good.

To smokey Noses, and stinking Nostrils.

Great Iupiter being at a solemne feast
With all the Gods, Vulcan that sootie beast,
A Pipe of his Tobacco fell to drinke:
Venus displeas'd, said fye sweet loue you stinke,
And I am sure that Iuno you offend:
Neither will Pallas hold you for her friend,
Ceres will say the fume will blast her corne,
And Floraes flowers such lothsome smell doe scorne,
Put vp your pipe, smoke here no more you musts
The very steeme makes Mars his armor rust,
And cloudes Appolloe's glorious sun-bright face,
Saturne you see spits at it in disgrace,
What rhume's in Bacchus eyes, how red they looke?
How long ist loue since you Tobacco tooke?
Marry (quoth he) late sitting on my trough,
(With that he whift till all the Gods cry'd fough)
Came a young deuill of th' infernall nation,
And brought me that with Plutoes commendation.
And said, to drinke with me he had desire,
Because I traded like to him with fire.
Now they drinke neither wine, nor ale, nor beare,
But fire, and stinke, and smoke, as this is here.
When Ioue heard this, well Vulcan (quoth he) well,
For shame let vs distinguish Heauen from Hell.
Cast hence your rowle, and your Tobacco ball:
Or else with thunder ile destroy it all,
My lightning shall consume it from your Nose,
With that from Heauen Mercury it throwes,
And downe amongst the Blackamores it lights:
Whome Ioues wing'd Herald did suppose were sprites.
So by that error they Tobacco got,
And fell to smoke it very burning hot,
As common and frequent with euery Moore,
As with th' infernall furies t'was before.
Not long fire drinking was at their dispose,
But that the smell came to the Spaniards Nose,
And he would teach his braine some smother too;
French, Dutch, Italian, they the like would doe:
But th' English to disgrace them all did striue,
His Nose should smoke with any Nose aliue.
Thus like an ill weed that growes fast, 'tis come,
To stinke in Nostrils throughout Christen dome,
So that of most it may be truely spoke,
Their tongues yeeld idle breath, their Noses smoke.

To beggerly Contention.

Goose late sude goose, for goodman Ganders land,
And Fox the Lawyer tooke the cause in hand:
Whose long demurs, and new delaies together,
Left both of them in th' end not worth a feather.
Then being brought as poore, as poore might be:
Fooles they fell out, and beggers thus agree;
Each tooke a man, to end their idle brawle,
Who made them friends when Fox had finger'd all.

To a Domesticall Cowardly Coxcombe.

It saues thy head from many a bloudy knocke,
To play the Hen and let thy wife turne Cocke,
Thou dar'st not chide, thy wife hath tongue at will,
Thou dar'st not fight, thy wife hath Fencers skill,
Thou dar'st not speake, if she dislike thy speech,
Thou dar'st do nothing, she hath won the breech.

On an ill Conscience.

The wicked wretch whom inward guilt doth sting,
Most trembling hearted fearing euery thing,
He feareth God, for God's his enemy,
Sathan he feares to be tormented by,
He feares all creatures 'gainst him will assemble,
He feares himselfe, himselfe doth make him tremble.

To Machiauill the Deuils Statesman.

To thee that art impos'd of villanie,
The Deuils States-man for all trecherie.
That art of that religion beares most sway,
A Papist now, a Protestant next day,
Or any thing with any man for gaine:
That canst all humors flatt'ring entertaine,
To please the world, that it may pleasure thee,
Iust fashon'd as incarnate Deuils bee,
With gluttons, Diues: murderers, a Caine:
With Theeues, an Aehan: and with Iudas traine,
A false and bloody vile Iscariot,
That wilt be brib'd to any damned plot.
With Corah's crew, murmuring male content,
Grudging at Maiestrate, and gouernment,
To thee that in thy life deny'st saluation,
A wilfull worker of thine owne damnation,
Know that thy howers doe hasten on to death,
And that a Deuill at thy parting breath,
Will find that soule, which thou deny'st to haue,
And all thy life thou did'st neglect to saue.

To Mr. Mony-bag the Vsurer.

That riches swell the heart, it seemes by thee,
For th' art as bold with God as wretch may bee,
Who in more fearefull case hath euer bin,
Then he that stoutly dares dispute a sin.
Gods law endures no change nor alteration,
It is not formed after humane fashion.
That which he once decrees remaineth still,
He that hath said thou shalt not steale, nor kill,
Blaspheme his name, commit adultery:
That dreadfull God prohibites vsury,
There is no place in all his sacred Booke,
Doth tollerate that int'rest may be tooke,
Yet thou dost hold it a good christian trade,
And very honest gaines thereby is made,
Tis but gratuitie that men doe giue:
And were it not there's thousands could not liue.
Well ten i'th hundred, th' ast a friend in hell,
Tis thought he got his mony eu'n aswell.
For tis not said he liu'd vpon his land,
Or got his wealth by any Tradesmans hand,
Or that he was a Marchant, none of these,
But he was onely rich, and tooke his ease.
And who more easie gathers riches then
The Churle that gaines by sweat of other men?
Yet to the poore that pyning mourn'd and wept,
He was more dogged then the Dogs he kept,
For they lickt sores when he deny'd his cromes:
But when the ender of all mortalls comes,
Pale Death, and brings the deuill for his due,
To carry thee vnto the howling crew,
Then shalt thou cry with horrors fearefull sound,
Oh wearie waies on earth I wretch haue found,
The Sun of righteousnes yeelds me no graces;
Come hils and hide me from the Iudges face,
Whose heauie wrath and iust incensed ire,
Hath sentenc'd me to euerlasting fire.

To complement the dissembling Counterfait.

A smooth-tongu'd fellow of our Citty fashion,
That with what lacke you? giues his salutation:
And fleering fawnes, and fawning flatterers all,
Claim'd quaintance of a country-man at's stall,
Demaunding how his friends and neighbours fare,
And if he wanted any of his ware?
The Country-fellow by the fist did take him,
And in plaine rusticke manner did beshake him,
He leaues the hand, and giues him the embrace,
Aboue the Knees, the Thighes, and pissing place,
Sir, saies the clowne forbeare, it is enough,
You once deceiu'd me in a piece of stuffe,
Which makes me thinke the world is wondrous grown
In outward trickes, to that which I haue knowne.
The time hath beene, on tearmes men did not stand,
But bargaines held, with shaking by the hand,
Now in the armes we doe embrace each other,
And in the heart false Knauery doe smother,
Well Citizen, friend Tradesman, and so forth,
Your kindnes is scarsce God a mercy worth:
I like a handfull of old loue and true,
Better then these whole armefuls of your new.

Harme watch, Harme catch.

Of late when Boreas blustring blasts had blowne
Down mighty trees, & chimnies tops orethrown:
In th' interim of this fierce combustious weather,
A Tyler and a Surgion met together,
Whose congees past, and salutations don,
The Tylers further speach he thus begun:
This wind he saith blowes profit still to mee,
In liew whereof, two pots ile giue to thee,
The motions lik'd, and so they passe the street,
Till with a painted Lattis they doe meet,
The sounding well they like, so in they went,
And budge not till the Tylers pots were spent,
When comming forth with sage and sober gate,
Downe drops a Tyle vpon the Tylers pate,
Who seeing the bloud run downe his cheekes amaine,
Amaz'd he cryed that he was almost slaine.
The Surgion hauing h's box of plasters there:
Straight stancht the blood to put him out of feare,
And saith withall, twas more then he did know,
The selfe same wind to him should profit blow,
But seeing I was beholding to the aire:
In liquid substance you shall haue a share,
So in againe they goe, and twixt them twaine,
They dranke out part of what they hope to gaine.

To all Londons Naballs.

Like to the body of some carion beast,
Whereon the Rauens and the Crows doe feast,
So is't with churlish misers when they die,
To share their goods their friends and kinsfolks hye,
Who rifle chests and ransacke bags of gold:
When they with Diues are in deuils hold.

On vaine and curious Monuments.

What trust of future praise in sencelesse stones,
Containing rotten and worme-eaten bones?
What doe the gazers on report, but this?
Faire Monument wherein fowle carcase is.
Vertue dies not, her fame her selfe will raise:
Let them trust Tombs that haue out-liu'd their praise.

Of a wicked Maiestrate.

A wicked Maiestrate is like to those
That shoot at birds in pieces and stone-bowes,
As with one eye their leuell they attaine,
So tother wincke at faults, and shoot at gaine.
For if a bribe doe entertainment find,
Iustice must feele, because her eyes be blind.

To a Gentleman foole.

Thou boasts of scutchions, armes, & high descent,
That on fooles legges euen from thy cradle went.
What credite to an idiot will arise,
To heare him say he had a father wise?
What honour can from Ancestor proceed
To foole his son, that ne're did vertuous deed?

The Picture of a Swagerer.

A bedlam looke, shag haire, and staring eyes,
Horse coursers tongue, for oths and damned lies,
A Pickt-hatch paire of pockey limping legs,
And goes like one that fees in shackles begs.
A Nose that smoketh with Tobacco still,
Stinking as lothsome as doth Hecla hill.
His fist with hang-mans fire-worke closely fild,
His itching backe with Bridewell medicine kild,
His Rapier pawn'd, that borrowed which he weares,
And dares not see a Sergeant for his eares.
His richest ware-house is a greasie pocket,
And two pence in Tobacco still doth stocke it,
His bootes that keepe his legs from nakednesse,
Holding a paire of stockins but excesse)
Came to him from a friend that late did dye,
Being indeed a Tyburne legacie.
For there they cap'red to their owners paine,
And there he meanes to bring them backe againe.
Which showes some conscience in the cursed crew,
That will not cheate the hangman of his due.

To the Deuils Secretarie.

How can a man refraine but he must laugh,
To see old birds deceiu'd and caught with chaffe?
This age hath beene by such experience taught,
A man would thinke no Conie could be caught.
VVho will be drawne at Dice and Cards to play,
VVith one he meets as stranger on the way,
And be fetch'd in for all that's in his purse,
Except some franticke madman, foole, or worse?
I pitty not such asses, I haue knowne
To borrow mony when th'aue lost their owne,
To feed a cheater in his rogish play,
Yea from their backs haue pawn'd their cloaks away,
Such rather ought with shame to be derided,
That of their wits haue been so ill prouided,
Nor such as will in secret (like close Foxes)
Be guld with these same gold and counter boxes,
Made both as like in fashion and in show,
As those are like to fooles, are cousned so.
For when they thinke they haue good gold in pawne,
On which some twentie pounds away is drawne,
Viewing the lyning of the box within,
They find but copper Counters, lead, or tinne.
But roome for one that thinkes his art far better,
The deuils secretarie with his letter,
And tels you he is sent from such a friend,
For certaine mony he entreats you lend,
And for assurance, shews the parties hand,
Whereby his meaning you may vnderstand.
Or with acquittance, else to you he's sent
From such a Lord or Lady, for some rent,
Hauing their hands so cunning counterfait,
Many are wronged with most false deceit.
But Plutoe's pen-man you did late mistake
The deuils errand for your Maisters sake,
To bring a letter in a Maltmans name
Vnto a Brewer, twenty pounds to claime.
Such customers they neuer will abide,
The deuils Malt is filthy ouer-dride:
It stincks of Brimstone, bad for beere and ale,
As you by this time stincke in Newgate Iayle.
Where we will leaue you till the Cart do call,
To ride vp Holborne to the Hangmans Hall,
To be made free, after some howers swing,
To cheate, to cosen, to doe any thing.

To a Gormondizing Glutton.

One like to Wolner for a monstrous eater,
Or rather of a glutton somewhat greater,
Inuited was vnto a Gentleman,
Who long'd to see the same Hungarian,
And note his feeding: being set to dinner,
A leg of Mutton was the first beginner.
Next he deuoured vp a loyne of Veale,
Vpon foure Capons then his teeth did deale,
And sent them downe into his pudding house,
So tooke the cup, and drinking a carowse,
Fell to his Rabees, and dispatching foure,
Some wisht him choakt that he might eat no more.
After all this he tooke bake't-meats in hand,
And spared nothing did before him stand.
The Gentleman then tooke a bowle of wine,
And drinking to his guest (the filthy swine)
Said, you are welcome sir, I pray you eate,
Me thinks your stomacke doth not like my meate,
I thanke you sir (quoth he) for your good will,
But all last night I haue been very ill,
And that's the cause my stomacke is but small,
When I am well ile make amends for all.
If this be thy sicke feeding, shame require thee,
When thou art well the deuill shall inuite thee.

Fooles and Babes tell true.

Two friends that met would giue each other wine,
And made their entrance at next bush and signe,
Calling for Clarret, which they did agree,
(The season hot) should qualified bee
With water and sugar, so the same being brought,
By a new boy in Vintners trickes vntaught.
They bad him quickely bring faire water in,
Who looke as strange as he amaz'd had been.
Why dost not stirre (quoth they) with nimble feete?
Cause Gentlemen (said he) it is not meet
To put in too much water in your drinke,
For there's enough alreadie, sure I thinke:
Richard the drawer, by my troth I vow,
Put in great store of water euen now.

To Madam Maske or Francis Fan.

When Conq'ring William had subdu'd this Land,
Saue onely Kent, which opposite did stand,
On tearmes of antient priuiledge they held,
The Norman Prince, with all his troops in field,
In great amazement on a suddaine stood,
To see (as seem'd to him) a walking wood,
For Kentish-men came marching all with bowes,
To offer peace, if he their sute allowes,
If not, to fight it out with manly blowes,
Before their Priuiledges they would lose.
Like wandring wood, as did that time appeare,
May now be met with all in euery Sheire,
Women are vp in armes on euery side,
About a priuiledge they claime in pride.
Brauing it out with woods vpon their backes,
Except the Husband his poore Tenant rackes,
And deales extreamely in the hardest manner,
There is no peace, but with the bloudy banner,
They sound defiance and domesticke warre,
Such Peacocke-tailes proud foolish women are.

Or thus.

When men amazed at their busines stood,
A speech was vsed; Faith I am in a wood:
To make an end of that same wooden phrase,
There's order taken for it now a daies,
To cut downe wood with all the speed they can,
Transforming trees to maintaine Maske and Fan,
So that the former speech being errour tryed,
A new way turn'd it must be verified.
My Ladies worship euen from head to foot,
Is in a wood (nay scarse two woods will doo't)
To such a height Licifers sinne is growne,
The deuill, pride, and Maddam, are all one.
Rents raisd, woods sold, house-keeping laid aside,
In all things sparing for to spend on pride.
The poore complaining Country thus doth say,
Our Fathers lopt the boughs of trees away;
We that more skill of greedy gaine haue found,
Cut downe the bodies leuill with the ground.
The age that after our date shall succeed,
Will dig vp roots and all, to serue their need.

A hote Contention.

A controuersie there did happen late,
Where strangers met about a hot debate,
Which I hope (Reader) ne're shall trouble vs:
A sweating thing, cald Morbus Gallicus,
The Frenchman swore they did his Nation wrong
That said the pox did vnto them belong,
Giuing it nick-names by the tearme of French,
As though no other had the fault to wench.
For he would proue to the Italians face,
That it was borrow'd from their stocke and race.
Th' Italian look'd vpon him sterne and grim,
And said the Spaniard had it before him,
Threatning the Frenchman for his lying sin,
The pox, or he, would pull his Beard from's Chin.
The Spaniard vow'd he manifest could show,
He fetch'd it from the Indies long ago.
When first they went for Gold and Siluer thether,
They brought home mettall, and the pox together.
At length came certaine English, Scots, and Dutch.
Who hearing their contention grow so much,
Would take vpon them an arbitterment
To make all friends, so vnto cups they went,
Powring in wine, taking Tobacco so,
Vpon them all the Frenchman did bestow
His pockey kindnes, which doth so appeare,
That none can boasting say, his Nations cleare.

Of Ghoasts and Goblins.

In old wiues daies, that in old time did liue,
(To whose odde tales much credit men did giue)
Great store of Goblins, Fairies, Bugs, Night-mares,
Vrchins, and Elues, to many a house repaires.
Yea far more Sprites did haunt in diuers places.
Then there be women now weare deuils faces.
Amongst the rest was a good fellow deuill,
So cal'd in kindnes, cause he did no euill,
Knowne by the name of Robin (as we heare)
And that his eyes as broad as sawcers were,
Who came a nights and would make Kitchins cleane,
And in the bed bepinch a lazic queane.
Was much in Mils about the grinding Meale,
(And sure (I take it) taught the Miller steale)
Amongst the Creame-bowles & Milke-pans would be,
And with the Country wenches, who but he
To wash their dishes for some Fresh-cheese hire:
Or set their Pots and Kettles 'bout the fire.
Twas a mad Robin that did diuers pranckes,
For which with some good cheare they gaue him thāks,
And that was all the kindnes he expected,
With gaine (it seemes) he was not much infected.
But as that time is past, that Robin's gone,
He and his night-mates are to vs vnknowne,
And in the steed of such good-fellow Sprites,
VVe meet with Robin-bad-fellow a nights,
That enters houses secret in the darke,
And onely comes to pilfer, steale, and sharke,
And as the one made Dishes cleane (they say)
The other takes them quite and cleane away.
What ere it be that is within his reach,
The filching tricke he doth his fingers teach.
But as good fellow-Robin had reward,
With Milke and Creame that friends for him prepar'd,
For being busie all the night in vaine,
(Though in the morning all things safe remaine:)
Robin-bad-fellow wanting such a supper,
Shall haue his breakfast with a Rope and Butter.
To which let all his fellowes be invited:
That with such deeds of darknesse are delighted.

The Seauen deadly Sins all Horst and riding to Hell.

[The Kraues are delt, the Game is plaid]

The Kraues are delt, the Game is plaid,
And with this wish concludeth Spade:
I would all Knaues who ere they bee,
Were knowne by sight as well as wee.