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Now lyk a Lorde this fellow stere can |
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The lawe to defend without a fall |
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For all theyr pledgyng in Westminster hall, |
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Or lay what they wyll and bable there |
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yet mayntenaunce and I wyll kepe the chere |
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If it come once to the countree |
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Then as I wyll so shall it bee |
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A very cause syrs why I hyde my name |
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Was, they shuld not suspect my fame |
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Because I wolde spy all theyr intent |
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To chaunge theyr purpose after my iudgement |
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And so wyll I do, for thys is theyr pretence |
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By meane of Justice to brynge in experyence |
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That peace shuld continew the people amonge |
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And so by that meane to banysh mee wronge |
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But trust me syrs I wyll none of that |
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But rather by theyr faces I wyll them scrat |
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And mee to mayntain in this opynion |
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I haue an olde mate called Dyuycion |
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That shalbe of my counsayle in thys case |
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Whych I trust wyll not turne hys face |
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Tyll Peace be dryuen clene from Albyon |
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And then let Justyce and mee alone |
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For I trust or he and I haue done |
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He shall go whystle in a mary bone |
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As for any ryghtfull iudgement |
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That after this shall folow hys intent |
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And now syrs will I goo my waye |
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My felow to seke, fynde him if I may |
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Here iniury goeth out, & then Diuilion cometh, |
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in with a byll, a sword, a buckler, & a dagger. |
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¶Haue in the ruske |
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Out of the buske |
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A lustye Captayne, |
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