Missing Jonson


It was intended Sir, as if a purse should chance to be cut in my presence, now, I may be blamelesse, though: as by the se∣quell, will more plainely appeare.


We shall find that i’the matter. Pray thee begin.


To the tune of Paggingtons Pound, Sir.


Fa, la la la, la la la, fa la la la. Nay, I’ll put thee in tune, and all! mine owne country dance! Pray thee begin.


It is a gentle admonition, you must know, Sir, both to the purse-cutter, and the purse-bearer.


Not a word more, out o’the tune, an’ thou lou’st mee: Fa, la la la, la la la, fa la la la. Come, when?

NIG. My masters and friends, and good people draw neere, And looke to your purses, for that I doe say;


Ha, ha, this chimes! good counsell at first dash.

NIG. And though little money, in them you doe beare. It cost more to get, then to lose in a day.

COK. Good! You oft haue beene told, Both the young and the old; COK. Well said! hee were to blame that wold not i’faith. And bidden beware of the cutpurse so bold: Then if you take heed not, free me from the curse, Who both giue you warning, for and, the cutpurse. Youth, youth, thou hadst better bin staru’d by thy Nurse, Then liue to be hanged for cutting a purse. COK.

Good i’faith, how say you, Numps? Is there any harme i’this?

NIG. It hath bin vpbrayded to men of my trade,

COK. The more coxcōbes they that did it, I wusse. That oftē times we are the cause of this crime. Alacke and for pitty, why should it be said? As if they regarded or places, or time. Examples haue been Of some that were seen, In Westminster Hall, yea the pleaders between, COK. God a mercy for that! why should they be more free in∣deede? Then why should the Iudges be free from this curse, More then my poore selfe, for cutting the purse? Youth, youth, thou hadst better bin staru’d by the Nurse, Then liue to be hanged for cutting a purse. COK.

That againe, good Ballad-man, that againe. O rare!He sings the burden with him. I would faine rubbe mine elbow now, but I dare not pull out my hand. On, I pray thee, hee that made this ballad, shall be Poet to my Masque.

NIG. At Worc’ter ’tis knowne well, and euen i’the ayle, A Knight of good worship did there shew his face, Against the foule sinners, in zeale for to rayle, And lost (ipso facto) his purse in the place. COK. Is it possible? Nay, once from the Seat Of Iudgement so great, A Iudge there did lose a faire pouch of veluete. COK. I’faith? O Lord for thy mercy, how wicked or worse, Are those that so venture their necks for a purse! Youth, youth, &c. COK.

Youth, youth, &c? pray thee stay a little, friend, yet o’thy conscience, Numps, speake, is there any harme i’this?


To tell you true, ’tis too good for you, lesse you had grace to follow it.


It doth discouer enormitie, I’le marke it more: I ha’not lik’d a paltry piece of poetry, so well a good while.


Youth, youth, &c! where’s this youth, now? A man must call vpon him, for his owne good, and yet hee will not ap∣peare

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