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And Cron will hold his owne, or't shal go hard,
The diuel helpe him for a small reward:
The diuels helpe, oh tis a mightie thing,
If he but say the word, Cron is a King.
Oh then the diuel is greater yet then hee:
I thought as much, the diuell would master bee.
And reason too (saith Cron) for what care I,
So I may liue as God, and neuer die.
Yea golden Cron, death will make thee away,
And each dog Cron, must haue a dying day.
And with this resolution I bequeath thee
To God, to the diuel, and so I leaue thee.
