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With which thy Steed of Bones and Leather
Has broke his Wind in halting hither ;
How durst th', I say, adventure thus
T'oppose thy Lumber against us?
Could thine Impertinence find out
No Work t' employ it self about,
Where thou, fecure from Wooden Blow,
Thy Busy Vanity might'st show?
Was no Dispute a-foot between
The Caterwauling Bretheren?
No subtle Qeftion rais'd among
Those out-o'-their Wits, and those i'th'Wrong;
No Prize between those Combatants
O'th' Times, the Land and Water-Saints ;
Where thou might'st stickle without Hazard
Of Outrage to thy Hide and Mazzard,
And not for want of bus’ness come
To us to be thus troublesome,
Tointerrupt our better Sort
Of Difputants, and spoil our Sport?
Was there no Felony, no Bawd,
Cut-Purse, nor Burglary abroad?

No

A

No Stollen-Pig, nor Plunder'd Goose,
To tye thee up from breaking loose ?
No Ale unlicensod, broken Hedge,
For which thou Statute might'st alledge,
To keep thee busie from foul evil,
And shame due to thee from the Devil;
Did no Committee sit, where he
Might cut out Journey-work for thee;
And set th’ a Task, with Subornation,
To stitch up Sale and Sequestration
To cheat with Holiness and Zeal
All Parties, and the Common-weal ?
Much better had it been for thee,
H' had kept thee where th’art us’d to be z
Or sent th' on bus’ness any whither,
So he had never brought thee hither.
But if th' hast Brain enough in Scull
To keep it self in lodging whole,
And not provoke the Rage of Stones
And Cudgels to thy Hide and Bones;
Tremble and vanish while thou may'st
Which I'll not promise if thou stay’st.

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At this the Knight grew high in wroth,
And lifting Hands and Eyes up both,
Three times he smote on stomach stout,
From whence at length these words broke out.

Was I for this entitled Sir,
And girt with rusty Sword and Spur,
For Fame and Honour to wage Battle,
Thus to be brav’d by Foe to Cattle ?
Not all that Pride that inakes thee swell
As big as thou dost blown-up Veal ;
Nor all thy tricks and slights to cheat,
And sell thy Carrion for good Meat ;
Not all thy Magick to repair
Decay'd old Age in tough lean Ware,
Make Natural Death appear thy Work,
And stop the Gangreen in ftale Pork;
Not all that Force that makes thee proud,
Because y' Bullock ne’er withstood ;
Though arm'd with all thy Clevers, Knives,
And Axes made to hew down Lives;
Shall fave or help thee to evade
The hand of Justice, or this Blade,

Which

..

C

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