A Yorkshire Tragedy.
ny to a swine, to shew tricks in the mire, what is there
in three Dice, to make a man draw thrice three thousand
acres into the compasse of a little round table,
and with the gentlemans palsie in the hand shake out
his posterity, theeues, or beggers; tis done, I haue
don't ifaith: terrible, horrible misery.—how
well was I left, very well, very well.
My Lands shewed like a full Moone about me, but
now the Moone's in the last quarter, waining, waining,
and I am mad to thinke that Moone was mine:
mine and my fathers, and my fore-fathers generations,
generations: downe goes the house of vs, down,
downe it sinkes: Now is the name a beggar, begs in
me that name which hundreds of yeares has made
this shiere famous; in me and my posterity runs out.
In my seede fiue are made miserable besides my
selfe, my ryot is now my brothers iaylor, my Wiues
sighing, my three boyes penurie, and mine own confusion.
He teares his haire.
Why sit my haires vpon my cursed head?
Will not this poyson scatter them? oh my brother's
In execution among diuels that stretch him:
And make him giue; and I in want,
Not able for to liue, nor to redeeme him.
Diuines and dying men may talke of hell,
But in my heart her seuerall torments dwell,
Slauery and mysery. Who in this case
Would not take vp money vpon his soule?
Pawne his saluation, liue at interest:
in three Dice, to make a man draw thrice three thousand
acres into the compasse of a little round table,
and with the gentlemans palsie in the hand shake out
his posterity, theeues, or beggers; tis done, I haue
don't ifaith: terrible, horrible misery.—how
well was I left, very well, very well.
My Lands shewed like a full Moone about me, but
now the Moone's in the last quarter, waining, waining,
and I am mad to thinke that Moone was mine:
mine and my fathers, and my fore-fathers generations,
generations: downe goes the house of vs, down,
downe it sinkes: Now is the name a beggar, begs in
me that name which hundreds of yeares has made
this shiere famous; in me and my posterity runs out.
In my seede fiue are made miserable besides my
selfe, my ryot is now my brothers iaylor, my Wiues
sighing, my three boyes penurie, and mine own confusion.
He teares his haire.
Why sit my haires vpon my cursed head?
Will not this poyson scatter them? oh my brother's
In execution among diuels that stretch him:
And make him giue; and I in want,
Not able for to liue, nor to redeeme him.
Diuines and dying men may talke of hell,
But in my heart her seuerall torments dwell,
Slauery and mysery. Who in this case
Would not take vp money vpon his soule?
Pawne his saluation, liue at interest:
