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The Knaues of Spades and Diamonds. With new Additions [by Samuel Reynolds]
Rowlands, Samuel (1570?-1630?)

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THE EPISTLE TO any Man, but especially to Fooles and Mad-men.
 
The Knaues, of Spades and Diamonds.
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The Knaue of Diamonds.
 
[The Knaue of Diamonds promised before]
 
Neptunes owne Knauery.
 
The Picture of a Pirat.
 
To a Reprobate Pirat that hath renounced Christ and is turn'd Turke.
 
The Fox taken, comming to take.
 
Like will to Like.
 
Lightly come, Lightly goe.
 
When theeues fall out true men come by their goods.
 
All's Fish that comes to net.
 
False Knaues will neuer be true.
 
Curelesse, and Carelesse.
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The Knaue of Spades.
 
One good turne asketh another.
 
Like Maister like Man.
 
To the olde yong Man.
 
The Country cunning Man.
 
To the Saint in shew, and Deuill in practise.
 
The Country Cormorant.
 
Patience Perforce.
 
Tobacco carted to Tyburne.
 
To smokey Noses, and stinking Nostrils.
 
To beggerly Contention.
 
To a Domesticall Cowardly Coxcombe.
 
On an ill Conscience.
 
To Machiauill the Deuils Statesman.
 
To Mr. Mony-bag the Vsurer.
 
To complement the dissembling Counterfait.
 
Harme watch, Harme catch.
 
To all Londons Naballs.
 
On vaine and curious Monuments.
 
Of a wicked Maiestrate.
 
To a Gentleman foole.
 
The Picture of a Swagerer.
 
To the Deuils Secretarie.
 
To a Gormondizing Glutton.
 
Fooles and Babes tell true.
 
To Madam Maske or Francis Fan.
 
Or thus.
 
A hote Contention.
 
Of Ghoasts and Goblins.
 
The Seauen deadly Sins all Horst and riding to Hell.
 
[The Kraues are delt, the Game is plaid]

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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.
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