If a Coach I heere be rumbling,
To my Crutches then I hie me,
For being lame, it is a shame,
Such Gallants should denie me.
Still doe I cry, etc.
X
With a seeming bursten belly,
I looke like one half dead, Sir,
Or else I beg with a woodden legge,
And a Night-cap on me head, Sir,
Still doe I cry, etc.