A RECANTATION Of an ill led Life. OR A discovery of the Highway Law. WITH Vehement dissuasions to all (in that kind) OFFENDERS. As also Many cautelous Admonitions and full Instructions, how to know, shun, and apprehend a Thief. MOST Necessary for all honest Travellers to per'use, observe and Practise. Written by john Clavell, Gent.  
Ego non, sum, Ego.  
— Quantum mutatus ab illo?  
Approved by the KING'S most Excellent Majesty, and published by his express Command.  
LONDON, Printed for the Authous use, 1628.   

The Epistle Dedicatory. To the Kings most Excellent Majesty.  
THat you may see (great King) you have not done▪  
A work in which your glory shall not live,  
In saving me: the course which I have run,  
Behold, deciphred, here to you I give.  
In which I do so punctually set forth  
Even in the liveliest colours what I know  
Of those base ways: that who so has of worth  
The meanest spark, will scorn the like to do.  
I have not only charactered this ill,  
But Actors to; that the least judging eye  
Those Locusts, which your Land with trouble fill,  
May, in their chiefest disguises, them descry.  
So that in saving me, you have destroyed,  
O Heaven knows what; a crew of those vild things,  
By whom your better people were anoy'd,  
Whose lives may now speak service to their Kings.  
And for myself, let my Detractors call,  
This course a servile one, and to my shame  
Say I have ripped, the bowels up of all,  
And to preserve my life, have lost my fame  
By such detections; but (great Sir) you know,  
Your bounty, without article or tie,  
My forfeit life so freely did bestow,  
You bad, it was obeyed, I did not die.  
This than I pay to you a double debt,  
First, to that grace preserved me, (which is yours:)  
Next that borne duty I must not forget  
The subject owes to Princes, and their powers.  
The last made greater by the first: engage  
Both life and duty in a twofold band;  
Which may produce unto succeeding age  
Stories worth my redemption; which may stand,  
With the fair memories of men: so placed,  
The times may bless your mercy; by whose grace  
This shame and ills of mine are quite defaced,  
When virtue shall succeed in vice his place:  
So that what after good my life shall bring,  
Must needs be called the blessing of my King.  
Your Majesty's most humbly devoted prostitute. john Clavell.   

TO HER NEVER TO BE equalled MAJESTY, the Queen of Great Britain, etc.  
Honour's Storehouse, Virtue's Story,  
Fame's best Trophy, Nature's Glory.  
O may with moss the Muse's flood,  
Be over grown, damned up with mud:  
All their holy Hills polluted,  
And their Oracles confuted,  
If that they strain not all they may,  
Now their best vows to you to pay;  
And hoarse as Ravens may they sing,  
Who dare neglect their offering;  
Or find a subject for a Verse,  
That any meaner worths rehearse;  
You the true Story are, and all  
That's rich, fair, sweet, Majestical.  
The fullest wonder of our time  
For Chronicles, in Prose, or Rhyme.  
And like the Rosy morn do bless  
Our drooping Land with cheerfulness;  
Throwing your bounties every where  
As fresh, and fragrant as the air.  
The Woodbines, and the Violet  
The Season of the Year forget:  
And to attend your sweetness do  
Grow every where, you tre●d, or go.  
ay, in the Autumn of my life,  
When guilt, and justice were at strife,  
Was by your royal breath (strange thing)  
Vnwithered, turned into my Spring.  
Accept this Sacrifice (great Queen)  
In which no merit can be seen,  
But that your Royal Name do bless  
My Muse in her unworthiness.  
And though no lustre crown my art,  
Holy fires inspires my heart.  
Obedience, Duty, Zeal, attend  
The faithful tribute, that I send.  
So the Gods accept of still  
Not the offering but the will.  
Celuy qui plus honor vos vertus & admire vostre Bonte, & Clemence & qui est le plus oblige a vostre Majestic.  
jehan Clavell.   

To the no less ennobled by Virtue, then Honourable by their Titles, and Dignities; the Duchess', Marchionesses, Countesses, with the rest of the most worthy and noble Ladies, of the Court of that great Queen of Mercy, her Majesty of Great Britain.  
THe hardest heart, with rudest hand,  
That is least subject to command,  
That fears not God, grim Death, nor Hell,  
Nor ever knew but to rebel,  
Seizing by force, and rifling all  
That in his greedy Clutches fall,  
As you pass by, must in a Maze  
(Void of all power) stand and gaze;  
Such awe a Lady's presence bears,  
Filling a Rake-hells heart, w●i●h fears;  
Besides, you always have your guide,  
And a safe Convoy, as you ride;  
Not to profect you (there's no need)  
Is then this Story, (you may read;)  
This chiefly is, to let you see  
My good amendments constancy;  
Our blessed Queen (moved thereunto  
I do presume, by some of you)  
Preserved my life; accept you then  
Just thanks, from my unskilful pen;  
Lo, this I was enjoined to write,  
But I mean shortly to indite  
A perfect, true, and ample Story,  
That shall speak nothing, but your glory;  
Accept (mean while) what beer you see;  
You'll otherwise, dishearten me.  
The admired of Virtues, john Clavell.   

To the right Honourable the Lords of his Majesty's most Honourable Privy Counsel, and Counsel of War.  
Right Honourable.  
So vild, and audacious, so public, and rebellious have mine offences been; such, and so extraordinary the mercy I have received (of both which I am truly sensible) that I wish really, and sincerely from my heart, I had suffered the shameful death was due unto me, then, that now there is a fair occasion, I should be debarred from regaining my lost honour, and reputation, in his Majesty's Wars abroad. May it please your Honours, when I saw all my fellow offenders, and other Delinquents whatsoever discharged and sent upon employment, I envied not their happiness, but seriously began to consider, how I (who alone was denied that fairest way of all) might do my Country some service, even whilst I continued here, an unfortunate, and wretched prisoner. Thus sadly musing (finding my Conscience burdened,) I resolved to write this real Recantation of all my evil ways; whereby I have not only disarmed, and prevented myself, from falling into the same lewd course of life, at any time hereafter; but also so fully and faithfully instructed all honest Travellers, that no man that will be pleased to follow my advice, can from hence forth, (that way) miscarry. Since therefore I have yielded so fair a testimony, both of my contrition, and conversion; ay most humbly beseech your Honours to entertain a favourable, and good opinion of me, and (moved thence unto commiseration) that you would vouchsafe to grant a Warrant for my discharge, that I may not spend my youthful days in this miserable and wretched prison, but may on, upon my Prince, and Country's service; where I am resolved to acquit myself, by some brave, and notable exploit, or a worthy death; and whilst I live, I shall at all times rest accountable for my liberty, and the life that is lent  
Your Honours, most embounden, unworthy, and distressed Suppliant, john Clavell. King's Bench Prison Octob. 1627.   

To all his Honourable, Noble, and never to be enough thanked Friends at the Court.  
THere's no necessity that can exclude  
the poorest being from a gratitude.  
And where the strength of Fortune lends no more,  
He that is truly thankful, is not poor.  
Were I to pay this debt to courser men,  
I might despair; and mine own fate contemn;  
Their satisfaction only lives in things  
That profit, or the Golden tribute brings.  
But your far finer souls in Heaven that dwell,  
Despise those meaner ends, so near to Hell.  
And for your own sakes noble actions do  
As well as theirs, they are extended to.  
Yours be the bounty then, mine the great debt:  
On which no time, nor power can ransom set.  
Yours most obliged, I. C.   

To the impartial judges of his Majesty's Bench, my Lord Chief justice, and his other three Honourable Assistants.  
THose pardoned men who taste their Prince's loves,  
(As married to new life) do give you Gloves;  
But I have chosen rather to present  
You, with the offering of a fair intent.  
And though your justest sentence lost its scope,  
Yet I presume, your goodness will find hope  
In my unquestioned alteration: so  
You killed my sin, though my life 'scapt the blow.  
And that is justice object's fair extent,  
To judge the Past, the new ills to prevent.  
For were the Bench of men's repentance sure:  
None should the strictness of the Law endure.  
So thrive this work, as in effect it may  
My vice, and true repentance, both display.  
Your distressed Prisoner, I. Clavell.   

To the right Worshipful the justices of Peace, and Gentlemen of quality in this KINGDOM.  
Right Worshipful,  
Usual, and ordinary is your contribution to the relief of those, that suffer loss by the Highway side (the Law requiring it) great is your care and trouble, almost at every Session and Assize, in trial of those, who that way offend; seriously to be lamented is the loss of many young Gentlemen (well descended) who have been, for that fact, found guilty, and accordingly suffered, untimely ignominious, yet deserved deaths; These mischiefs, and inconveniences I have observed, and seriously considered; so that (partly to extenuate my own foul offences, partly to procure ease unto my burdened conscience, but most especially that the like may not be hereafter) I have written this Discovery, which I entitle my Recantation; I have hereby not only prevented the base sort of people from committing such rebellious outrages, but also laid open to the better sort (I mean too such as are of Gentle Parentage) the foulness and baseness of the Act, that who so hath the least relish of a Gentleman, will be no more seduced, and that way misled; now if it take this good effect (as I heartily wish it may) I shall account myself happy, although I continue still,  
A distressed Prisoner. I. C.   

To the Right Worshipful, Sir Robert Heath Knight, the King's Attorney; and 〈…〉 Esquire, one of his Majesty's 〈…〉 john Clavell wisheth long life, and prosperity in this, with eternal happiness in the World to come.  
IN the relapse of my danger (as I may so term it) when I was thought past cure, you were pleased to administer, and your undertake were not in vain, for the breath, I breathe, is what, you then procured unto me; the motives that moved you hereunto, (as well as Charity, and merciful disposition) were (questionless) your good opinions, that I would from thencefoorth become an honest man; I therefore, that your expectation may not be frustrate, and that you may not bethink the good Act you did, but rather glory in what you have done, have made, a real and faithful Recantation, of all my evil ways; which I here publish unto the World, and (as most especially bound) particularly present you with; take it as the inward man, vouchsafe it your kind acceptance, gentle censure, and favourable protection, but above all I do desire the continuance of your Love, whilst I shall be, what I here profess myself  
An altered man I. C.   

To the right Worshipful, his ever dear and well approved good Uncle, Sir William Clavell Knight Banneret.  
YOur hidden purposes (grave Sir) that rest,  
Within the secret closet of your breast,  
Have like predomination with my Fate,  
I shall be happy or unfortunate,  
As they assign me; you may justly take  
A fair occasion now; both to forsake  
And utterly renounce me; but behold  
My God above (whose secrets are untold,  
All things on Earth as he thinks best decreeing,  
What will my future actions be, foreseeing)  
Hath lent me life, and mercy, by my King,  
Who is his Substitute, in every thing;  
Since than their doom is past, O let not me  
Be new arraigned, by your severity;  
Forget my foul offences, me, and all,  
Until some brave, and noble actions shall  
Bring you a new acquainted, if again  
I ever take a course, what shall be vain,  
Or if of any ill, I faulty be,  
O then for ever disinherit me.  
Your right sorrowful Nephew, john Clavell.   

To all the grave, and learned Sergeants and Counselors at LAW.  
THere needs no cunning Settor to betray  
To his companions, when, nor yet which way  
You are to ride, nor need the thieves be told  
What store of coin you carry; they all hold  
You to be rich, and certain prize, beside  
They know when from, when to, the term you ride;  
Great is your danger then; which to prevent  
Peruse I pray what with a fair intent  
Is offered to your view, if by what's here  
(When you shall be beset) you get off clear,  
My joy shall be, just like the joy you take,  
When for your pleading, and good counsel sake,  
A poor man still in peace retains his own,  
Who otherwise had been, quite overthrown.  
Your in all due observance, I. C.   

To the Reader.  
THe liveliest and best Monuments of men are their actions, and in those, their memories either die before them in infamy, or survive them unto the farthest extent of perpetuity in the fullest and fairest Registers of time, and glory; both of these retain their subsistences, not in the brazen leaves of Sepulchers, nor in the tongue-failing relation of succession, but in those Paper Records, which seldom forfeit them to loss, although assaulted by never so many alterations, as the Stories from the first World, as well profane, as divine, may wonderfully witness to all Observers, This truth may question my discretion, that have made mine own hand the Character of such actions as Posterity will blush at, whose memory might easily have lost the thoughts of men in less than half an age. If thus I had not given it continuance as lasting as the World; It is confessed in respect of myself the answer is difficult, but in respect of God, the World, and mine own conscience, I could contrive no fairer or more real satisfaction. The sins of the dearest children of God have had their like punishments, david's Murder and Adultery must have david's written Confession and Contrition, Salomon's Lasciviousness must have his own acknowledgement and recantation, and to conclude, he that is ashamed to confess the ills he hath been conscious of, argues too palpably that he is a great many leagues from repentance, and is more in love with his sin, than his amendment. Believe in Charity, this is my resolution, that mine own free detection of this pernicious and common vice, might not only kill the fear of my impossible relapses, but be a just deterrer of all the worshippers of this course. Nor can I fear, that such Idolatry of theirs can rise in judgement against this truth of mine, which hath so honestly condemned them, and their actions: or that their revenges, which they have already proclaimed against the innocence of my Recantation, can reach farther than the counsels of Achitophel, Whose effect extended to self ruin, whilst I shall be happy, to be either censured, or forgotten by them; for whose amendment I owe my Prayers, and will Religiously invoke; that they may, either become new men like me, or else, that they may know my resolution hath built me beyond the aspersion of their poisons Nor can I fear the ill construing of this work of mine, they that love truth, and reconciliation of wild youth (to that perfection the first Creation intended) will love my expression, more than my Verse; and hug my intended innocence, more than they can in goodness condemn my detected Offences; The rest, that are Galled, or prevented by this Discovery must not dare to judge, because all indifferency is denied them. Nor can they whose hatreds against my Person, or Actions, have drawn, into a resolved opposing, of my fairest courses, claim any Language in the condemnation of my Book, or profession of amendment, since their splenative Souls will draw them into a worse extremity of censure, than ever my most provoking needs could me, into the high way of this kind of sinning. How so ever it is taken, it is honestly meant, and will prove (questionless) a wholesome prevention for the honest traveller, whose satisfaction I covet, that my ills may find some redemption that way, which is the fullest ambition and hope of  
Your well wisher, john Clavell. From my lovely sad, and unfrequented Chamber in the King's Bench, October, 1627.   

The Argument of the whole Book.  

AN Introduction. ☞ Folio 1  
A free acknowledgement and confession of my foul offences both to God and man, with my preparation and resolution, when I was to have saffered death. ☞ Folio 4  
An absolute defiance of all those that follow my late course of life, living upon the spoil. ☞ Folio 8  
The highway Law. 

1. The oath every young thief takes, when he is admitted a brother of the company. ☞ Folio 10  
2. The order prescribed, or the charge given by the oldest thief, to the rest, before they attempt. ☞ Folio 12  
3. The manner of their assault, and how they behave themselves in the action, and after. ☞ Folio 13    
How soon and ill they spend, what thus unlawfully they get. ☞ Folio 16  
Hearty dissuasions with my best endeavour to reclaim them. 

1. By showing them the misery of a prison, which must be their first step. ☞ Folio 17  
2. By giving them to understand, how much they are mistaken in other men's opinions of them. ☞ Folio 21  
3. By putting them in mind of their wretched and cursed ends (which they fond jest at.) ☞ Folio 2●.  
As also their reward in the world to come. ☞ Folio 28  
4. That they must not presume on my example of grace, which was most extraordinary in many respects. ☞ Folio 23    
Instructions for the honest traneller, that be may pass in safety. 

1. What he is to take heed unto, before he take his journey. ☞ Folio 30  
2. How to carry himself in his Inn. ☞ Folio 31  
3. The danger of travelling on the Sabhath day. ☞ Folio 31  
4. How as he rides he shall know a thief from an honest man. ☞ Folio 32  
5. An instance, how dangerous it is to grow familiar with any stranger upon the way. ☞ Folio 34  
6. When to ride. ☞ Folio 34  
7. Where to ride. ☞ Folio 35  
8. How to ride. ☞ Folio 36  
9 What is to be done, if he be beset. ☞ Folio 37 (A foul fault where of many travellers are guilty. ☞ Folio 39  
10. If by chance he be unawares surprised, how to behave himself. ☞ Folio 40  
11. Being robbed, how to follow, which way to set forth Hue and Cry, how to coast, and where to find the thieves. ☞ Folio 42.    
An extraordinary charge the Country usually put themselves unto, which is both needless and hurtful. ☞ Folio 44  
divers instructions for the Innkeeper, how to know thieves from his honest guests. ☞ Folio 46  
The Conclusion. 

1. Wherein I prove my recantation to be real. ☞ Folio 50, 54  
2. Wherein I answer some aspersions laid on a guiltless person, to whom I am much indebted, and how. ☞ Folio 52  
3. Wherein I humbly beseech his Majesty, to be graciously pleased to employ me in some service, and not to banish me. ☞ Folio 56    
A Postscript unto his Majesty for my enlargement: ☞ Folio 59    

CLAVELL'S Recantation.  
☞ STand and deliver to your observation,  
Right serious thoughts, that you by my relation  
May benefit, for otherwise in vain  
I write, you read, unless from hence you gain  
The happiness I mean you; blessed is he  
That will make use of others jeopardy.  
Be warned by me, so may you purchase hence  
At a cheap rate my dear experience.  
You must not look from me to have the strain  
Of your Blackfriars Poets, or the vain.  
Of those high flying men, whose rare Muse brings  
Forth births, that Gossipped are by Lords and Kings.  
For though I oft have seen Gadd's-hill, and those  
Red tops of Mountains, where good people lose,  
Their ill kept purses, I did never climb  
Parnassus' Hill, or could adventure time,  
To tread the Muse's Mazes, or their floor  
Because I knew that they are lightly poor,  
And Shooter's Hill was fitter far for me,  
Where passed releifes for my own poverty.  
I never road on Pegasus (for then  
I had fled farther than pursuit of men)  
If therefore you expect a lofty strain,  
You wrong yourselves, and me, your thoughts are vain.  
Perchance my Verse may amble, trot, or fly  
As if my frights presented Hue and Cry  
To dog me still, nor (Poetlike) I feign  
My theme is Truth, myself the subject plain.  
I cannot play the Satire; my disguise  
Fairly plucked off, I am nor grim, nor wise,  
Nor cursed enough to scourge, no Beadle I  
To punish you with petilasherie:  
I mean to paint myself, and not to be  
The Chronicler of others infamy.  
I will not aim at Motes within your eyes,  
For I confess in mine a beam their lies;  
Which I pluck out, and deal as punctually  
As if I spoke against mine enemy.  
Let this invite you then, these newest ways  
Of self invective writing. Now adays  
Each one commends himself, and others blame  
Of faults, when he is guilty of the same,  
Yea and of worse too, and seeming wise  
As folly will the daintest Wits despise.  
Such has been my conceit, for I was prone  
To blame each action, which was not mine own,  
Believing what I did was good, maintaining  
That my ungodly and worst way of gaining  
Was more legitimate, and far more fit  
Then borrowing, and thus I argued it.  
Who, in the way of loan, takes from his friend  
Whom he finds kind, and ready for to lend,  
The main of his estate, with an intent  
(Premeditated basely) fraudulent:  
Betrays a trust, and in performance slack,  
Breaks both his word, his own, and his friends back,  
Who finds no remedy; but who hath lost  
His purse, repaid is at the Country's cost,  
Besides the thief says not he will repay,  
Nor is't expected from him, and yet they  
That borrow, will a thousand oaths let fly,  
And wish they may be damned eternally  
If that they fail, and thus the purse they fill,  
Make light their oaths, and load their souls with ill.  
But hence capitulation, he's not free  
From ill, that would by ill excused be.  
Such Sophistry as this, and such belief  
The Prince of darkness Satan, that old thief  
Did prompt me to; he first persuades to sin,  
Then firmly that we may continue in  
The foul transgressions we commit: he tells  
What fair excuse we may allege; which quells  
Our good intentions to desist: he says  
Unto the quarrel it is a praise  
For to affront the meek, and a great glory  
To boast thereof, and to repeat the story.  
The envious, and the sullen minded man  
That aims at blood, and ruin all he can,  
He cherishes, and says it is but meet,  
Bids him persist, and that revenge is sweet.  
Thus Satan pleads, thus he deludes us all,  
And then at last he glories in our fall.  
☞ But horrid Sire of Hell, I do descry,  
And find thou art the Father of each lie,  
That a delinquent has for his excuse,  
And therein doth consist thy main abuse  
Unto mankind, immediately next that  
Temptation which made Eve to perpetrate;  
For since that damned act of thine, 'tis true  
We sin by nature, but are borne anew  
Through Christ, which blessed regeneration  
Has notwithstanding no relation  
To those accursed, that do want the grace,  
For to appeal thereto: or have the face  
To justify themselves, and with a lie  
As 'twere confront the sacred deity.  
Had Adam too, not from his just God fled,  
Had he confessed, as otherways he did  
Deny what he had done, and had he cried  
For mercy, when himself he justified,  
I do believe the vengeance for his sin  
Had not so lasting, and so heavy been.  
Thus I debated with myself when I  
Was first attached, and kept so privately  
That none must visit me, and even then  
Not being allowed to have advice of men,  
To thee my gracious God I did appeal,  
To thee (who knewest before) I did reveal,  
Confess, acknowledge, and bewail my sins,  
Ascertained that whosoever wins  
Mercy and favour from thee, must repent,  
That only causes thee for to relent  
And stay thy wrath, I said within my heart,  
All idle wand'ring thoughts first set apart,  
O God most merciful thou knowest all,  
What is, what was, and what hereafter shall,  
If thy foreseeing knowledge doth descry,  
That if I live, I will live wickedly,  
And licking up the vomit of my sin,  
The same or a worse way of ill begin  
Now let thy thundering hand my cursed days end,  
But if my evil days I shall amend,  
And by a true conversion yield thee praise  
And glory, then, O then in mercy raise  
Me from the snares of death, direct me to  
Both what I am to speak, and what to do.  
Thus I besought my God; what comfort then  
And ease came to my mind, neither my pen  
Can write, nor you imagine, for that bliss  
He only knows, by whom enjoyed it is.  
But whilst this contemplation did transport  
My ravished mind, behold another sort  
O thoughts assault me, that the Devil might  
Lose all his power in me in this great fight,  
Me thought upon a sudden I beheld  
My Conscience frighted with my sins, that yield,  
And cried, accusing me, my ills were such,  
The glory that I saw, I might not touch;  
The World, on th'other side, by me offended  
Inditing me, with evidence transcended  
All trials here, for who will nor contesse,  
Adds to his fault, and doth a new transgress.  
The heavenly judge knew all, and could inform  
The jury how my passages were borne.  
Then Satan that had tempted, next comes in,  
And though he fashioned, yet revealed my sin.  
So that I conscious, all amazed stood  
Betwixt so much of ill, so much of good.  
And as my comforts reached at the Crown,  
Frozen despair assays to pluck me down.  
At length my sins (me thoughts) like clouds did fly,  
And vanished quite, and none accuser by  
To peal against my pardon, which sealed stood,  
Writ in the Lamb's dear innocence, and blood;  
And all my ruins were restored in that  
He that must judge me is my Advocate.  
And thus prepared, induced, assured, I came  
To my confession here, resolved to name  
And to particularise all my offences,  
My ill got goods, and dearer times expenses,  
To satisfy stern justice in each point,  
Vnscruing my disguises joint, by joint.  
Not caring though this freeness might deprive  
My being here, and take me from the live  
To mingle with the dead, if but from hence  
My forfeit life might pay for mine offence,  
I did not then unto the judge at home  
Deny those ills, which were perhaps unknown  
To his enquiry, nor refuse to tell  
What ever I had done that was not well.  
And at the bar when death and justice stood  
Not greedy for, but challenging my blood  
As debt to them: I did not faintly then  
Before the faces of so many men  
That witness my arraignment, or deny  
My foulest deeds, nor could the fear to dye  
About me hover with a face so grim,  
As not to ease my conscience of the sin  
I had committed, that my judgement might,  
How sad so ere, be equal yet, and right.  
And that the glory unto God might be  
More than the pity was bestowed on me.  
Nor was it hope of mercy, that my youth  
Might purchase favour only for this truth,  
Or that the Bench in policy might save  
Me from the claws of death, in hope to have  
Such freeness from the like offenders still,  
When they should see my plainness thrived not ill;  
And that the law because I vented all,  
Would but my follies chide, not let me fall.  
No, it was none of these, my wounded mind,  
That could no rest, no ease, no quiet find,  
But in confession, plainly proved that I  
Was less afraid of dying, than a lie:  
I knew beside that in concealing so  
I strived to keep my ills, not let them go.  
And he that in excuses folds his shame  
Retains his sin, although he save his fame.  
Hence than my ill companion, I no more  
Will strive to hide thee, but unlock the door  
Where my offences lie, whose ugly shape  
Shall nor the worlds, nor mine own censure scape.  
Of all the heinous facts man can commit,  
There's none like this of mine, for it is right  
Rebellion against God and man, so foul  
That it deserves the loss of life and soul.  
☞ Now you licentious Rebels, that do make  
Profession of this wicked course, and take  
A pride therein, and would be termed by me  
Knights of the Rhodes, or else at leastwise be  
Styled Highway Lawyers; No, I do defy  
You, and your actions, I will tell you why;  
But first pluck of your visards, hoods, disguise,  
Masks, Muzles, Mufflers, patches from your eyes,  
Those beards, those heads of hair, and that great wen  
Which is not natural, that I may ken  
Your faces as they are, and rightly know  
If you will blush at what I speak, or no;  
As well you may-but that you want the grace  
Forlorned men, I pity though your case,  
Because it hath been mine, and gladly I  
Would suffer death, to be a remedy,  
And your example, only that I know  
It will do better for to live, and show  
Unto the world your baseness, to prevent  
Others that yet sin only in intent,  
Conceiving that it is a gentile course,  
Not to be discommended, whilst non's worse,  
Or base on the earth, yet it is true  
Some Gentlemen perhaps, before they knew  
The poorness of this way, to serve their need  
Have more than once attempted some such deed,  
But now they see their warlike Prince take Arms,  
They scorn to live upon their Country's harms,  
But will go on, whence there may Honour grow  
To blot out quite their fames first overthrow.  
Expressing to the world, that want of Action.  
As much as Moneys, made them know your faction.  
Which though your courser natures follow still,  
The Active spirit leaves, and knows it ill;  
But what are you, that nothing can reclaim  
From giving to your souls so foul a name?  
Who neither fear of heavens, nor earth's just Law  
Can, into compass of self knowing, draw?  
Whose honours, strumpeted to this base course,  
Have made you of yourselves, take no remorse?  
But hugging your own ruin, and foul shames,  
Are proud in losing your repute and fames?  
Now I consider better, 'tis not strange  
That you this life will for no other change;  
For you have got by this vile course of sinning  
A kind of state, ne'er known to your beginning;  
And from attending others, are become  
The principal, and best men in the room;  
Where (like the Ass in trappings) you do awe  
The silly beasts, that Beer and Claret draw;  
For they you Captains, and Lieutenents call,  
And tremble when a frown you do let fall,  
For Peerless now yourselves are masters grown,  
That in man's memory were Footboys known;  
And your despair as base as your condition  
Makes you believe, if you should leave perdition  
In these attempts, you should again be made  
From being suns yourselves, another's shade,  
And that your worthless spirits cannot rise  
In any course, that walks without disguise,  
For bred on dunghills, if unmasked, you fear  
You shall too much, in your own filths appear;  
☞ And as the witch, and damned Euchaunters pay  
Their tributes to the Devil, and do pray  
In a loose form, unto that beastly spirit,  
From whom they do their wickedness inherit,  
Have their oaths, orders, and distinctions so,  
As they that in a tract of goodness go:  
Such irreligious form, and course you take  
For your accursed, damned, Protectors sake.  
And fearing that your acts were not enough  
To make you his, an oath of such black stuff  
You have compounded, as you meant to tie  
Yours lues to sin be your own perjury.  
For he that truth for swears, but to his ills  
Makes conscience of a vow, which conscience kills,  
And so is perjured as he swears to be  
True to untruths, and false to honesty.  
With this you tempt and bind unhappy men,  
Who doubting to be damned, are damned then,  
And to those vows still stiriving to be true  
Forsake all good, in being just to you.  
This hellish oath you minister, and now  
Out ere they ride you charm them to their vow,  
That if misfortune in your traffic do  
Betray you to the Law, and danger too,  
You must not tell your Complices, nor name  
How by this cursed trade, and life you came;  
For if you are examined, when you fell  
To these lewd courses? Then you are to tell  
That you came up here with a full intent  
To go for service; ere the forces went  
(Which you must ready be to name) you had  
Spent ●ll your money; here must you look sad.  
And fetch a sigh or two, and then confess  
Only for one supply, this wickedness  
You fell into so may you move belief,  
Whilst you are thought to be a poor young thief  
Lately seduced, and hence will pity grow;  
Then must you vow you will no more do so:  
Thus shall you cousin justice of her due,  
Quickly get off, and to this course anew.  
Nor must remorse of conscience touch you, for  
Your sacrament relenting doth abhor;  
And (entered in) you must resolve to grow  
Old in your Vice, and keep your contract so.  
For you are sworn to use these courses still,  
And so indeed are married to your ill.  
But be assured our Laws are of that force,  
They will on easy suit grant a divorce.  
Yet you not minding this, do next agree  
Both of the time, and where the place shall be  
Appointed for a meeting, scarce in this.  
(Though in all goodness slack) will any miss.  
☞ So being come together, there you lie  
In some odd corner, whence you may descry  
Such booties as shall pass, and then says he  
That is the oldest thief, be ruled by me,  
And mark what I shall say, thus must you place  
Your Masks and Chin-clothes, thus than you your face  
May soon disguise, and what is he can swear  
Directly and precisely who we were;  
And that your words may yield a differing tone,  
Put in your mouths each one a pebble stone.  
Now must we choose a watchword somewhat common,  
As (what's acnocke) for fear lest we should summon,  
Their thoughts into suspicion, then be sure  
The word once named, each man to deal secure  
We that are strongest at the gripe will seize,  
Then be assured for to observe me these;  
With your left hand to catch the Bridle fast:  
And let the right upon the sword be cast,  
The one prevents escaping, other than  
Quells their resistance, let our weaker men  
That are not thus employed, cry boldly stand;  
And with their Swords and Pistols them command,  
Whilst you affright we will persuade, so that  
By fair or foul means they shall yield, that's flat.  
☞ Perhaps Whilst he is talking yet, one cries,  
Arm, Arm Camaradas, yonder comes a prize;  
If up the hill you meet, if down they ride  
You follow after, and then side by side  
Each having singled out his chosen one:  
And the Coast clear, you jointly seize upon.  
And then in troth 'tis very strange to see  
What different qualities in men there be.  
You shall have able fellows, strong, well set  
As ere your eyes beheld, when they are met,  
And set upon (great Boobies) tremble quiver,  
And cry like Children at the word Deliver,  
Though to affright them there's no weapon drawn,  
Nor money in their purses to be ta'en.  
Such cowards there are many, others than  
That are as Pigmies to these taller men)  
Though they are ne'er so threatened to be shot,  
Or to be strait ways murdered, fear it not;  
But fight courageously whilst they have breath,  
Not daunted at the present show of death:  
On disadvantages yet being caught  
(Not yielding though) by you strong thieves are brought  
With their sad fellows, likewise in the lerch,  
Out of the way, where you begin your search:  
Then every place about them you see sift,  
That it is impossible that they should shift  
A penny out of sight and if so be  
You find some gold that's quilted privately,  
You call them villains, and dishonest men  
For their intended cozenage, haply then  
The Traveller cries out he is undone,  
Because in that all his estate is won;  
Which moves not, for your consciences are gross,  
You value gain, and not the poor man's loss,  
Then chop you Horses most familiarly,  
Exchange you tell them is no robbery.  
And next most desperately you make them swear,  
That they shall neither follow you, nor rear  
The Country with a hue and cry, so vexed,  
Robbed, rifled, destitute, amazed, perplexed,  
You leave them, and are gone, they know not whither  
Nor scarce the number, but you went together,  
And that's all they can say, here is poor light  
To those that do pursue, yet in your flight  
You show your cowardly fear, each Crow you see  
Seems like a Constable, and if so be  
A Colt or Calf within the bushes stir,  
You think you are beset, in haste confer  
One with another how you shall get gone  
From that so imminent destruction,  
Did not I see of late, after a prize,  
A strange confusion on such poor surmise;  
An Owl which into Sanctuary got  
To shun the airy quires wondering at,  
Screened in a hollow Tree, so discontent  
Began with fatal hoops the air to rend,  
At which you switched apace, fearing that hollow  
Was of the Country, that your flight did follow,  
Thus more a afraid then hurt you often are  
The more the pitle, afterward you share  
And do divide the spoil, here let me show  
Another piece of Knavery that I know,  
You play the double thieves, you cheat, forswear,  
Reserving the best part, from those you dare,  
And curse yourselves to Hell 'tis all; for I  
Have found you in your damned perjury,  
☞ But makes no matter, whither more or less,  
'Tis soon consumed again in wickedness,  
Ill gotten goods can never prosper well,  
Nor can they thrive that have no place to devil,  
The rolling stone can hardly gather moss:  
Those that live on, do always live in loss.  
You have no trade, no calling, no vocation  
Whereby to live, and save; you have relation  
To nothing that is good, wasteful expense  
Is of your lawless gains the recompense.  
Thus to be furnished then, is just as though  
A man should thatch his dwelling house with snow,  
Which melts, drops, soulters, and consumes away  
Even the time of one sunshining day.  
For when to Inns or Taverns you do run  
That note your ways, there are you twice undone.  
For well they know their bills you dare not chide,  
If you presume your actions they must hide,  
And so to make them rich, you forfeit all  
That men may wife, or good, or honest call.  
And as you sinned in gaining, so are fain  
To be in spending cozened, not complain  
Although yond knovved, so thriftless is their way  
That do on ruins of their Country prey.  
I had a treble income, by the means  
Of such as were my men, and yet my gains  
Scarce countervailed my charge, yet was I wary  
Not wasteful in expense, but always chary  
In that particular, to blind men's eyes,  
For fear that thence suspicion might arise.  
Yet (notwithstanding all this thrift) I could  
Never grow rich by saving, nor yet would  
The some I had, when I was doomed to die,  
Pay for my burial, and my Coffin buy.  
Whence I conclude, though we go late to bed,  
And rise betimes, and likewise eat the bread  
Of carefulness, the vantage will be small  
Unless God gives his blessing there withal.  
Which he will never do to such attempts;  
Your wicked and unlawful course exempts  
You from that gracious benefit, and though  
You do subsist while, God suffers so  
To try if that you will reclaimed be,  
If not, his heavy vengeance shall you see  
Out poured in abundance, than too late  
You will repent you, cursing cruel fate  
When 'tis past remedy, the Pots you know  
That over often to the River goe  
☞ At last come broken home, O then forsake  
This life, lest you your Inn the Prison make;  
And here arrived, O Heavens; Hell not retains  
Moore fuller tortures, torments, woes, and pains.  
Which were enough to punish all offence  
Though with the forfeit life, the Law dispense.  
For here no sooner entered, but you meet  
A thousand wretched souls, that loosely fleet  
From place, to place, where sighing is their air,  
Their comforts coldness, and their food despair;  
And ever as they see a Keeper come  
They start, as fearing some new martyrdom.  
Whilst the insulting Rascal swells to think  
The craven soul should from his power shrink,  
And standing on the tiptoes of poor pride  
Screwes his ill favoured face, on other side;  
As the poor Prisoner with a doleful look  
Seems to petition some thing, (as the Book  
Of his sad face may tell) the jailer vild,  
His devilish heart is from remorse exiled.  
The minutes of your rest (if rest there be  
Within the walls of so much Injury)  
Are frighted with your cares, or some rude noise  
Of senseless creatures, from whose drunken voice,  
The night is quartered into Earthquakes sad,  
That you would think e'en the whole World were mad  
And you another humorist shall hear,  
Cursing the Stars, the Earth, and all that's near,  
Another vild, and frantic in his oaths  
His blasphemies against God and Angels throws,  
Cursing his cruel Creditors, and fate  
That makes him beg his food within a grate.  
Perhaps some pray, but if they do, 'tis so  
As if the good they meant they did not know,  
But as their wants or customs do provoke  
They in distraction, do their Gods invoke,  
Who hears as little, for such vows as those  
The best effects of true petitions lose.  
Here are you mingled with the various strain  
Of fainting need, and every humour vain,  
And must of force endure the idle way  
Of those that do blaspheme and such as pray  
At oneself instant, here what other ill  
Your own corruption knew not, meet you still,  
And if a little tainted when you came  
Ere you depart y'are all composed of shame,  
And grow as cunning now in all offence  
As he that tempted Man's first innocence.  
Nor is that humour which some Parents have,  
(Thinking their vilder sons they thus may save  
From utter ruin or reclaim from sin,  
If but a prison once they are put in)  
To be forgiven; for in saving so  
They do precipitate their overthrow;  
The cause is easy, for examples ill  
Purge not, but do adulterate the will,  
Too prone to giddy folly, and beside  
They that enjoy the air and Region wide,  
When from a Kinsman or a friend confined.  
They have a Message, or a Letter signed  
As if they had him sacrificed to Hell,  
Nor know him, nor the place where he doth dwell,  
Or if they call his mention from the dead,  
It is as faint as of those buried.  
So that the living deaths of prisoners be  
The feelingst Monuments of misery,  
But these are but the Interludes to those  
Sad Tragedies writ in your overthrows,  
And as the quickest passage in your Scene,  
To your Catastrophes, so slight, so mean,  
That he that sees your ends, may truly say  
The Prison was the best of all your play,  
For there your fatal lodging, and sad room,  
Presenting to you your accursed doom,  
May well instruct you, that abuse of air  
Hath brought you to this chamber of despair,  
Where when the tell-tale Sun through crannies spies  
Your day-bard carcase, locked in miseries,  
It snatches his free beams from your dull sight,  
As who should say, you had abused his light  
By doing that it was ashamed to see,  
And therefore darkness must your portion be.  
The night, which you can scarce distinguish then,  
(Whilst your sad thoughts your errors may condemn)  
Instead of sleep, should with a thousand fears,  
Sound your waked conscience alarms in your ears,  
Unfold your guilts, and crown your watchful eyes  
Not with a dream, but sense of Miseries,  
Then death, which or you fear not, or despise  
Must coldly in your apprehensions rise,  
And teach you truly what it is to die,  
Not natures, but the sons of infamy.  
☞ But such considerations have long since,  
With your worst thoughts, a cruel difference.  
For you believe you have deserved to be  
Admired, not scorned, for your past villainy,  
And that the actions, you have done are such  
As pace with honour, can endure the touch  
Of cruelest censure, whilst you fond deem  
That men you brave, and valiant do esteem,  
And so are bound with your ills to connive,  
And in despite of Law keep you alive.  
So from the Gaol unto the halter go  
Careless of now, or after overthrow.  
Base usurpation, and conceits as vain  
As are your lives, expenses, and your gain.  
For good and brave men censure right your sin,  
And pity you, and the course you are in  
Rather in common Piety, then that  
Your vild defeating should be wondered at;  
And since you are discovered thus by me,  
If by mistake before a man might be  
So cheated with your boastings, and loud talk,  
Because he never knew the track you walk  
With your disguises, now his judgement may  
Be altered, bettered, or quite thrown away.  
When all your feigned worths, appear to be,  
But faint protectors of your infamy  
Disabled in the poor things you commit,  
Which neither are for worth, nor valour fit.  
Your ends beside (if nothing else) might draw  
☞ You into fear to break the rigorous Law;  
Unhappy he that hangs upon a tree,  
The wretched guerdon of impiety.  
Nor Dies the shame with him that suffers so,  
His family in such an overthrow  
Participate and share, whose innocence  
Are Died in scandal, but for his offence.  
And the whole stock, above an age in time,  
Is blasted for this debt, he paid his crime.  
And yet these senseless Caitiffs who inherit  
This way of dying by their own demerit,  
Laugh at this judgement, call it a fine thing.  
Thus to be pulled to heaven in a string,  
And that the Apoplex, fleames and Catarrh,  
More cruel to the souls of Christians are  
Then hanging, for these passions take men hence,  
Ere they can think of dying, or have sense  
Of their repentance, being snatched away  
Scarce with so poor a warning, as to pray.  
But these have Sermons, prayer, Sacrament,  
Psalms, and always to bring them to repent,  
And a great audience of the people by.  
For whose fair warning theyare content to die,  
And thus their strong deluder draws them on  
To laugh at, and deserves destruction.  
What should be their example, and affright them  
Do rather please, rejoice, content, delight them,  
☞ But you fond men it may be do suppose  
Because I scaped, that you shall neither lose  
Your sorfeit lives, I wish the grace I found  
May not to any of your harms redound,  
I mean to your encouragement, you know  
But of particulars no generals grow,  
One Swallow makes no Summer, though Noyes flood  
Once overwhelmed all the living brood  
That strove against the stream, topping the ranks  
Of the great Mountains, and the lesser Banks,  
With every Crawling creature (not one mist)  
Though they Lent all their powers to resist,  
Yet God hath promised (we have understood)  
He will not send us such another flood.  
Things seldom are not usual: besides strong  
The reasons are, that did my life prolong  
You must conclude, that had the time not been  
The jubily of mercy, when my sin  
Was called in question, I had precedent  
Been not in writing, but in punishment:  
For that great power by whom we governed are,  
To limit my ill courses (strained so far)  
Thus took me from my sin, and did contrive  
How by strange means I should be kept alive,  
For know, just at that instant when the joys  
Of great men, good men, old men, young men, Boys,  
Had but one object, like the heavenly spheres,  
Whose harmony, one note, one burden bears,  
Then when each face did like a Bridegroom smile,  
And one entire contentment crowned this Isle,  
The Birds, the Beasts, the men, and every thing  
Presenting their glad Aves to their king,  
Who like a Sun new risen on the earth,  
Disdains to view a corner where's not mirth,  
So threw a beam on me, whose luckless fate  
Was then midst all this joy disconsolate.  
Then was my apprehension, even just then  
As if my faults distinguished me from men  
That were ordained for joy, or mine offence  
Denied my share in bliss of Innocence.  
Yet this preserved me; Barrabas must be  
At the great Feast from death and bondage free,  
It was no favour to the man, or crime,  
That saved his life, his blessing was the time,  
Nor could my glorious Sun, that Rose so fair,  
With blood infect or cloud the laughing air,  
Or die the Crimson of his Morn with red  
Of Malefactor's blood (so early shed)  
His beauty is his own, nor would he shine  
At first in justice, though 'tis called divine.  
Hence grew the Mercy, that my joy so might  
Be in respect of all men's tripartite,  
For besides this I had an Advocate  
Whose virtue could the hardest penetrate,  
And make compassion easy, for her smile  
Could the sad brows of sternness reconcile;  
Her sweetness can the angry Ocean calm,  
And turn the Asp his poison into Balm,  
And stay the thunders heavy hand, just then  
When it is threatening ruin to all men.  
The Tiger of her yong-ones robbed would stay  
But at her presence, and forbear her prey.  
The angriest things must at her sight appear  
As smooth as August, or the springing year.  
She the rich partner of his royal bed  
Who wears a triple crown upon his head.  
Embraced him, called him Lord, and at that word,  
Who could deny a pardon to afford.  
She asked, he gave, and my dear fate in this  
Got my free pardon, she a bounteous kiss.  
So sweetly sealed was my remiss from death,  
So ratified by this so royal breath.  
Presume not yet on this, occasion so  
Will not her liberal aid to all bestow,  
One thief was saved, that no man should despair,  
But one, so that presumptions forfeit are:  
He with his Saviour died, blessed time for him,  
Who else had found no pardon for his sin;  
I in my Sovereign's glory was to die,  
And that time set my life at liberty.  
Note the occasions strange that set us free  
Me from this death, him to eternity.  
My Prince's crowning, his Redeemers death,  
Assured his soul, and did restore my breath.  
But every day is not Coronation; Nor  
D●d many suffer with our Saviour.  
And mercy at such times as these extended.  
To judgements turn, if grace be twice offended.  
And now you think me happy being free  
From death and shame by this benignity,  
But if you do a little back reflect  
On the recharges of my foes, th'aspect  
Of this sunshining day, you cloudy find  
And much foul weather in my face behind,  
For now, as I have seen a tired Hare  
Of his own swiftness in a faint despair,  
After whose fearful feet, the yelping cry,  
Of the whole kennel, follow eagerly.  
Which spied, some Huntsman or some Shepherd near,  
Seeing the weary Wat half dead with fear,  
In the Pursuers sight, in his safe arms  
Folds the poor creature from their cruel harms,  
'Bout whom the angry chasers leap and bay,  
Assaulting him that keeps them from their prey,  
And with their fearful noises fright it more,  
Then the poor beast was in pursuit before.  
Even just thus is my poor life pursued,  
Whilst I thought danger past, it was renewed  
For first they followed with much speed, and cry,  
After poor me (that fled but easily)  
And when the King of Forests and of Chafes  
Thus found me destitute, before their faces,  
(Ready to be devoured) snatched me away  
Just then, as they were seizing on the prey,  
And in his royal arms of grace embraced  
My panting life, before so hotly chac'te,  
And yet behold my Adversaries roar  
With louder exclamations, than before.  
And would with horrid clamours him constrain  
What he preserved, thus to destroy again.  
Appeals and Caveats, and such things they bring  
To force me from the bosom of my King.  
On which divinest altar whilst I hold  
I cannot be unto their furies sold.  
And yet the rarest eloquence in Law  
That I could to my causes handling draw,  
I was enforced to crave; so strongly they  
Did although pardoned against my life inveigh.  
Here I a new must muster up my friends  
Wearied before; to cross their ireful ends.  
Make their endeavours such to save me now  
As if the King no Pardon did allow,  
Thus though my life they cannot take, you see  
They make me weary of 't by troubling me.  
Thus a Delinquent must of force endure:  
He knows not when he's freed; nor when secure.  
Behold, the Map of your proceeding here,  
A Glass in which to life, there doth appear  
The form of all your actions; which I know  
Aretina uglier yet in substance then in show.  
As they are vild, your Aims are worse, your ends  
As bad again, yet these your Hope transcends,  
For both in ill designs, it leads you on,  
And will most fail, when most you trust upon.  
☞ Now than if that you are not quite bereft  
Of likelihoods for grace, if there be left  
Room but for one good thought, if unto sin  
You have not sold yourselves outright, let in  
This motion I shall make, behold your fact,  
Summon your guilty conscience, which is racked  
And gladly would speak truth, that it might gain  
Ease to herself in her ensuing pain,  
She would account, and be discharged, thereby  
The worm a breeding would soon live, soon die,  
A hideous horrid sight it must needs be,  
When in their ugly shapes, you chance to see  
Your monstrous sins appear; yet happy men  
You cannot ever be at all till then:  
No nor then neither, if it be to late,  
'Tis some men's cursed and unhappy fate,  
That they can ne'er be touched at heart until  
The damned beadroll of their sins o'erfill  
Their guilty conscience, in stead of prayer  
In vain as they conceive, they then despair,  
Not able to appeal to Christ his passion,  
They greedily lay hold on their damnation.  
If not the fear of this your temporal death,  
Let the eternal move, the one's but breath:  
The other endless, everliving pain,  
Ere it be done, it still begins again,  
Pity your silly souls, that else must fry  
In burning lakes of brimstone, never die  
Where worse than Egypt's darkness hems you in,  
With several tortures for each ugly sin.  
Where howls, and hollow groans the coapes-mates be  
To this eternal night of Misery.  
Where frosts, fires, drown, sulphur, choakings come  
Increasing still, ne'er ending; here's your doom.  
And these the torments that prepared are,  
Of which (vild men) you must expect your share.  
If you will still persist, and not give o'er,  
'Tis then in vain for to persuade you more.  
I'll cease my fair means therefore, and will try  
If I can fright you with an Hue and Cry,  
Here would I name both you, and your abode,  
But that you vary those, on every road,  
youare East, now West, and next North-Country men,  
And then your names as oft you change again.  
Thus to inform then, were to put in doubt,  
Not to give light to men to find you out.  
You in another kind I will describe,  
That every man shall know you as you ride,  
Or to avoid you how, or his purse lost  
I teach you a true rule how he shall coast,  
And dog you as you ride, how to be sure  
To take you, when you think yourselves secure.  
☞ Because I lived by spoil of Passengers  
Thus will I recompense them, this work's theirs  
Meant for their good, the guerdon for my gain  
Is to advise, how they may not sustain  
A farther loss, come be you ruled by me,  
And well observe, these your instructions be,  
When as you carry charge, let no man know  
Nor of your money, nor yet when you go.  
You have a humour when you are to ride  
Your Neighbour's Kinsmen, or your friends you bid  
To sup, or break their fasts, only to drink  
Healths to your good return, you little think  
There's any harm in this, yet I have known  
A Father thus betrayed by his own Son,  
A Brother by a Brother, and a friend  
Most dear in outward show, to condescend.  
And lay the plot with thieves, bid them prepare  
Such a prize comes, whereof he takes a share.  
Whilst, but for him they never had been met.  
Another kind of men there is, that set,  
Ten times more dangerous, you often choose  
Some one to guard you for fear you should lose  
Your money by the way, yond do rely  
Both on his valour, and his honesty,  
Now as you ride together, if he see  
You light on any other company,  
He rounds you in the ear (as if he took  
The greatest care) and says that yond man's look  
He likes not, you persuaded slack your pace,  
So that alone he brings you to the place  
Where his confederates lie, and then surprised  
(As 'twas by him and them before devised)  
They hack, and hew against each others sword,  
Till threatened to be shot, you give the word,  
And bid him yield, (which he seems loath to do)  
Nay more he is informed which way they go,  
And as you follow with an hue and Cry,  
He will be sure to lead you quite awry.  
☞ Oft in your Clothiers and your Graziers Inn,  
You shall have Chamberlains, that there have been  
Placed purposely by thieves, or else consenting  
By their large bribes, and by their often tempting,  
That mark your purses drawn, and give a guess  
What's there, within a little more or less;  
Then will they gripe your cloak-bags, feel there weight  
There's likewise in my Host sometimes deceit,  
If it be left in charge with him all night,  
Unto his roaring Guests he gives a light,  
(Who spend full thrice as much in wine and bear)  
As you in those, and all your other cheer)  
These inconveniences do oft arise  
For want of heed, and care, be therefore wise.  
☞ Forbear to ride upon the Sabbath day,  
In which God says, Remember, rest, and pray▪  
As we our servants oftentimes command,  
When many businesses they take in hand▪  
That chiefly one by no means they forget  
Above the rest; just thus much in effect  
Imports the word Remember, though our law  
Be not of force enough to keep in awe  
The Sabbath-breaker, yet God in the way  
Oft meets with him, and gives him as a prey  
To highway thieves, that day they rather choose  
Then any other, fittest for their use,  
For then the roads are quiet, and they know  
None ride but those have great affairs to do,  
Which to effect, 'tis thought, they have about them  
Great store of Coin, and this makes thieves misdoubt them.  
And as the Cutpurse is in prime of play,  
When men at Church do most devoutly pray,  
So are the Highway Cutters; for the Devil  
Is not content to tempt them to do evil,  
But teaches them presumption in the Act,  
Which well he knows doth aggravate the fact.  
Lastly, if you are robbed on that high day,  
It is not fit that then the Country pay  
Your money back again, that remedy,  
The judge in conscience will to you deny,  
What reason is it men should leave to pray,  
To wait upon your thieves that run away?  
☞ Noe, ride at lawful times, and you shall meet  
Store of good company for you to keep;  
Associate though with none, unless with those  
That you find rather willing for to lose  
Then have your company; for they that still  
Press to be near you, though against your will,  
Are somewhat dangerous; but I will show  
How you shall find if they be thieves, or no;  
Take but occasion for to make some stay,  
Then mark; if that they keep not on their way  
But slack their pace, or else alight and go;  
Or if perchance they do refuse to do  
As I have said, just then, before your face;  
Follow some half hour after, a slow pace;  
If so you overtake them, then take heed,  
For that's the very trick of thieves indeed.  
Next of a thief, the usual marks be these,  
(Which as you ride you may observe with ease)  
They muffle with their cloaks, or else their coat  
Hides all their clothes, that so you may not note  
What suits they have, a Handkerchief they were  
About their necks, or Cypress, which they rear  
Over their mouths, and noses, with their hand  
Just at the time, when as they bid you stand;  
Perhaps since here I have discovered this,  
They will now leave them off, that you may miss  
Your observation, be you therefore sure  
As soon as they come riding somewhat near  
To gaze full at their faces, you shall see  
Them turn their heads away, as if so be  
They had spied something on the other side,  
Which if they do, then keep your distance wide,  
But now they will not may be, yet may you  
Have by these means a full and perfect view,  
And know them when you see them next, or whither  
Their great bush beard, and face, agree together.  
This above all I wish you for your good,  
By any means shun him that wears a hood,  
Beware of them that whisper, and those men  
That are inquisitive, for surely than  
They but examine you that they may know  
By circumstance, whenever you have coin or no.  
☞ You and your friend perchance do ride together,  
Your company's increased by another,  
A seeming honest man, and you are glad  
Where's two to one suspicion none is had.  
You call him fellow-travellor, and he  
Rejoices in your honest company,  
About some two miles riding there o'●e-takes  
Some three of his companions, than he shakes,  
Trembles, and quivers, and seems sore afraid,  
And cries, directly friends we are waylaid,  
If you have charge about you let me know,  
That I may cock my Pistol as I go,  
By those, and such like words, he will soon find,  
Whether, or no, your Purse be richly lined,  
And whilst you thought, there had been three to three,  
Your judas is on t'other side you see.  
☞ Had you not need be wary, judge I pray?  
Let me persuade you, do not ride by day  
With any sum you are afraid to lose  
But in the night, but then take heed of those  
Base Padding Rascals, for their kill-calfe law  
I am not privy to, I never saw  
Them, nor their actions, than I cannot show  
How to prevent the thing I do not know.  
But thus much I assure you, you are free  
From any horsemen you shall meet, or see,  
For they believe that none will ride at night,  
But only those whose Purses are too light,  
And hardly worth the taking; next they must  
Keep lawful hours, for fear they through mistrust  
Be apprehended, that's their chiefest ear;  
And then again, I know they hardly dare  
Adventure in the dark; for they can spy  
Neither advantage, opportunity,  
Nor whether you have Pistols, nor yet know,  
Whether that you be likely men, or no,  
And you have time your money to convey,  
And much more benefit by night, than day.  
But since God hath ordained this time to rest,  
And not to travel in, I do my best  
So to advise you, that you shall be sure  
What time so ere you ride, to be secure.  
☞ This is a general rule, and observation,  
Your highway thieves do always keep their station  
Upon your greatest roads, that out of those  
That do pass by, they may both pick and choose;  
And so they cull the likeliest out of many;  
But on your petty By-roads, where scarce any  
Are wont to travel, they ne'er use to be,  
You may be safe from any jeopardy  
If here you coast, which I advice you to  
Rather than on your great high roads to go.  
☞ But above all which way so ere you ride,  
A Butts length distance at the least divide  
Yourselves from one another, so keep on,  
For I assure you they ne'er set upon  
A scattered troop, for fear of sums escaping,  
Which may endanger their immediate taking,  
Besides, their company they do divide  
And set at several stands, and should you ride  
All in a cluster, they will sally out  
Before, behind, and compass you about.  
Now if that following, they attempt, you spy  
Their drift and resolution presently  
By their division, and have time to shun  
The thing intended, ere it be begun.  
Besides, they dare not do but altogether,  
That they may be at hand with one another,  
To help where there's occasion, say they should  
Adventure desperately, they never could  
Bring you together, nor aside the way,  
Without much trouble, and a greater stay;  
And peradventure, ere half this be done,  
Unto your rescue there are others come.  
Now I conjure you that ride by the while,  
Let neither threats nor fair words you beguile  
Nor yet dissuade, from yielding your relief  
To those you find in action with the thief,  
I do remember I have often been  
Thus wickedly employed, whilst I have seen  
Some others riding in to this our fray,  
I only wished them to keep on their way,  
With such persuasions, I found suited best  
With their amaze, see fairly thus distressed  
And to our mercies, they have left those men  
That very easily might have rescu'de been.  
☞ Now thus much for prevention, here you see  
From point to point, a plain discovery,  
Of the thieves policy, I showed you how  
You may avoid it, let me tell you now  
What you have next to do, If you espy  
(As you may guess by my discovery)  
That there are thieves amongst you, do not gaze  
On this, and other side, nor in a maze  
Affrighted stand, as if your only hope  
Were some to rescue you, that will provoke  
And not dishearten them, than mind it not,  
But be as though all fear you had forgot,  
And look as big as they, and if they proffer  
Be sure to draw, as soon's they make their offer  
Remember then the cause you have in hand,  
Your reputation, and your money stand  
At gage in this, and if you dare not fight,  
It grieves me much to do you thus much right.  
They, (if they find you resolute and stout)  
Dare even as wellbe hanged, as fight it out,  
Not out of cowardice, but that they know  
To their discomforts, that in fight so  
They strive against a Country, justice, Law,  
Right, equity, and these keeps them in awe.  
They study most, how they may bugbears seem,  
And who are robbed, but those that do esteem  
Their threats, unless you yield without delay,  
We shoot you thorough, they perhaps may say;  
But who thus threatened, yet resisting still  
Can say unto me that he fared ill.  
Some though are somewhat resolutely bend,  
'tis true, yet is it far from their intent  
To shed your blood, for they in doing so,  
Should work their own immediate overthrow,  
They could not then subsist, for though they pass,  
Sought after slightly for the moneys loss,  
Should they take life and all, they could not ride  
To any place where they might safely bide,  
But through continual search they would be found,  
And then pay dearly for each bloody wound.  
This the event would be, which they well know,  
Rather than hurt you, they will let you go,  
And stay a while until they meet with some  
Which their fair words, or threats will overcome.  
Besides, the right is of your side, and though  
You are o'ermatched, God may enable you so  
Those caitiffs may be vanquished by your hand;  
Then what good service you shall do your land,  
Your Prince, and Commonwealth, you may suppose,  
Even in the act by apprehending those  
Who live upon the spoil, then hold them play  
And yours shall be the honour of the day.  
☞ But 'tis a fault of yours, you do consent  
And yield too patiently, you are content  
Not only to be robbed, but let them go,  
And basely wish they may escape, that so  
The Country may be liable, for why  
If they not taken be with hue and cry,  
You must have all restored, and what care you:  
One thing more I will tell you, which is true,  
You often double and misname the sum,  
You know the hundred willing is to come  
To composition with you, if they do,  
You cousin both the thieves and Country too.  
And when you tell the story, then although  
You say they were five, six, or at least four,  
You were robbed fairly, and but two to two,  
And that you fought it out above an hour,  
And then you cut and slash your harmless clothes,  
And say that in the fight 'twas done by those  
That took your money, which God knows you gave  
Without resistance 〈◊〉 they scarce did crave.  
Do no more so, nor strive that men may deem  
You valiant, for it is a poor esteem  
To be accounted, if you be not so;  
And they have far a harder task to do  
To keep opinion, falsely undergone,  
Then those have none, for to achieve to one.  
Be what your Images, do represent,  
Men nobly spirited, 'twas God's intent  
When he created you, not much unlike  
His Image most divine, that you should fight  
In a just cause, because he is all just,  
And herein failing you betray God's trust,  
Neglect your duty, and do animate  
Not curb, the vild'ones, that do perpetrate.  
☞ But now suppose through negligence you fall  
Into their clutches, and surprised with all  
You are vnthought of, 'tis no fault of mine  
You might have taken better heed in time.  
Thus yet I will advise you, if you see  
That you must yield and over-mastred be,  
Strive not at all, but give the fairest words  
Your best invention and your wit affords,  
Wish that you had more moneys, and withal  
Deliver some, and so perhaps you shall  
By searching of yourselves, and freeness too,  
Without a further re-examining go.  
But if they make an offer, do not you  
Seem to dislike, what they do mean to do  
Then will they sift you sound, do not hold  
Your hand upon your money, they are told  
Thus where it is, and surely they will guess,  
They have not all by your own fearfulness.  
I have observed many times, when I  
Had ta'en such money, as did satisfy,  
Out of the pocket having no intent  
To make a further search, but only meant  
To lead the Passenger aside the way,  
(Because I knew what danger 'twas to stay)  
fastening my clutches on his arm, or thigh,  
With a sad look, he would begin to cry  
He was undone, if I took what was there,  
Thinking I felt (because my hand was near)  
His greater sum, which I by that should find  
Hid in his sleeve, or in his shirt behind.  
But now then, if they find not such a sum  
As was expected, they will bid you come,  
Into some corner, then protest, and swear,  
If patiently a while, you will sit there,  
You shall have all restored, that they mistook  
You like are, but not those, for whom they look  
On these fond hopes you rest, until that they  
Have watched their time, and seized another prey.  
To which you now are accessaries grown,  
But see where are their promises become?  
(Nor meant thev otherwise) those rifled to  
They take their Horses and away they go,  
And leave you destitute, so with the rest  
To tell the story whether fared best.  
☞ Yet lose no time, but on with all the speed  
That possible you can, and then take heed,  
It much concerns you, for when they espy  
That you pursue, the foremost cunningly  
Falls into some by lane, 'tis undescride  
For you suppose they altogether ride,  
So whilst you think, you keep at distance far,  
Anew amidst them you surprised are.  
Here's their main plot, you are forewarned, But say  
You cannot overtake them, and that they  
Have left the road, and you in a great doubt,  
So that you know not how to find them out,  
Let me direct you, I will instance thus,  
Suppose on Colebrook way you lose your purse,  
The thieves to Uxbridge road, or Stanes will ride,  
And not to fail will there all night abide,  
This is the chiefest Maxim in their law,  
The Subtlest surely that I ever saw,  
It stands by reason, for they know full well  
None use to travel thus athawrt to tell  
The Passages, or to describe the men  
They rest at pleasure, and are gone again  
Ere that the lazie-tithing hue and Cry  
Comes to inquire, and the authority  
Of some poor silly fellow, who is placed  
In that mean office, that he may be graced  
For double-diligence, oft as he goes  
Through wretched wilfulness attaches those  
That ne'er meant harm, yet being apprehended,  
They often lose their lives, though ne'er offended.  
But to deal safe and sure, without delay  
Scour you the next great right and left hand way,  
And if at night you miss, a careful spy  
Next day shall surely see them riding by.  
Grant Now they leave this custom, all their art,  
Their wit, invention, never can impart  
The like again, I vow, I do not see  
Whither they can betake them to be free:  
But by the way know thus much, if they light  
On a great sum, then will they ride that night  
Unto their Rendezvous here in the City,  
Which is too sure a shelter, (more's the pity,)  
But follow my advice, and mark me well,  
For here a cunning plot of theirs I tell,  
If you are robbed out in the Eastern quarter,  
When you with hue and cry the thieves make after,  
Ride not to London in the road you were,  
Nor raise those parts, you will not find them there,  
But high to Westminster, Holborn, the Strand,  
And for a speedy search there give command,  
If Northward they light on you, straightways ride  
And search both Southwark, Lambeth, & Bankside,  
Thus they do always plant themselves, for so  
They have the City betwixt them and you.  
And ere your search comes at them (by the way  
Which often dies) there's time at will to stay.  
I have observed (and it is still in use,  
Nor will it ere reform the vild abuse  
It hath a level at) a needless care  
Wherewith all sorts of people troubled are,  
And charged too, when any one hath lost  
His purse to thieves, then at the Country's cost  
There is a watch prepared to guard that place  
Where the poor man by them surprised was;  
This is like shutting up the Stable door,  
When as the Horse was stolen out before,  
'Tis not to be supposed the thief will come  
And make a needless breach, to thank the Groom  
For feeding of the best; lo then just so,  
Nor mean the highway thieves that way to go  
Where there is wait laid for them, say they should;  
I do protest here; I did ever hold  
(And found it by experience) that highway  
That had a watch upon it, best for prey.  
For first the honest Travellers suppose  
It is impossible, that they should lose  
Their money being guarded thus; and hence  
They grow more careless, doubting none offence  
Can any ways betide them; whilst alas  
A thief may do his list, and freely pass,  
The watchmen near the wiser; for they stand  
Settled at one place by a strict command.  
It is indifferent when the thief lays hold,  
His booty singled out, he will make bold  
To seize him any where; all places are  
All one alike to him, he will not care  
So that the coast be clear, and then how can  
He be distinguished from an honest man?  
I never passed by, but the watchmen gave  
Me courteous language, wishing me to have  
A special care I was not robbed; whilst I  
Was a chief actor of that villainy.  
But now suppose they had examined me,  
I would have answered them so courteously,  
That they could not suspect. Now what are they  
That are appointed watchmen for the way?  
Poor, silly, old, decrepped men, that are  
Fitting for nought else, but to loiter there;  
Have not I seen a dozen such, all stand  
(With each of them a Holbert in his hand)  
Amazed, affrighted, and durst never quatch,  
Whilst we before their faces all; did catch,  
Assault, seize, rifle such as did pass by,  
When we were gone (perhaps) then would they cry  
Thiefs, thiefs, (to little purpose) I have known  
Some that by way of parley, thus have grown  
Familiar with the watch, and as they found  
A fit occasion, they have ta'en, and bound  
The silly fellow's hand, and foot; then stood  
Like a safe guard set for the Country's good,  
With brown bills in their hands, and so made bold  
(As with authority) to stop, and hold  
All that did come that way, I do suppose  
A watch of Holbarteers were good for those  
Foot-padding-night thieves) but for these you see  
Such care, and trouble all in vain will be.  
But if you will needs have it so, choose then  
Strong, able, stout, and resolute young men,  
Arm them with Bow, and Arrows, Muscets, Shot,  
And with a Horse or two, that they may not  
Be thus abused, but if occasion be  
May follow on to purpose; but by me  
And mine instructions here, I hope you shall  
Be well secured, and need no watch at all.  
☞ I think it fitting now for me to show  
Unto the Innkeeper, how he shall know  
Such guests from other men, my Host take heed,  
To wink at such faults were a fault indeed,  
Respect then rather honesty, than gain.  
Know well your servants whom you entertain,  
Try them, that you may trust, their help in this  
Subtle discovery, most needful is.  
Your Ostler must observe, and he shall see  
About their horses, they will curious be  
They must be strangely dressed, as strangelyfed  
With Mashes, provender, and Christians bred;  
If this be wondered at, they cannot hold,  
Their goodly qualities they must unfold,  
Crying, they do deserve it, and that they  
By their good service will their cost repay  
With ouer-plus, or some words more or less,  
By which relation he may shrewdly guess.  
And then they will be ask, who is he  
That owns that horse? and whose those horses be  
That stand beyond him? what their Masters are?  
What kind of men? whither they ride? how far?  
And when? so by his answers they surmise  
Which of them all will be their likeliest prize.  
Next of their Cloak-bags let him notice take,  
They only carry them for fashioned sake,  
For they are empty ones, in policy,  
Because their horses should not laden be.  
Your Chamberlain shall find, when as they come  
Ushered up by him to their Lodging room,  
He shall be sent away, let him give ear,  
And not to fail, he shall be sure to hear  
The gingling of their money, Let him pry  
Behind some secret Crannies privily,  
And he shall see them share, what they have got,  
And every one to take what is his lot.  
This they by no means will defer, for fear,  
Who has the purse, should cheat them in the share;  
This done, they hug each other, next they call  
Their ravished senses home, and then withal  
They knock again for him, who shall be sheut  
For not attending, though enjoined he went.  
Now must he draw a cup of curious Sack,  
Than next mine Host your company they lack,  
With far-fetched compliments they will salute  
And bid you welcome, mark from their dispute  
What you can gather, you may somewhat guess  
By their men's saucy peremptoriness,  
For servants when their Master's ills they know  
Cease their obedience, and presumptuous grow.  
Inquire a part, each ones particular name,  
And let your several servants do the same,  
And you shall find them tripping, they well may  
Forget the new names, that they took that day;  
At supper time let some one hastily  
Knock at your gate, as with authority,  
You shall observe a sudden fearful start,  
Mark then their looks (the Index of the heart)  
And you shall find them troubled, look you sad,  
And ask if yonder Constable be mad?  
Bid them say quickly, what their danger is,  
Then promise no authority of his  
Shall enter there, if they command it so,  
By this, into their private thoughts you go,  
They will confess for succour, needs no more,  
'Tis evident what you but thought before,  
But say hereafter they should careless grow,  
Then are they taken with the less ado.  
Now say they come about the noon of day,  
You shall well know them, by their needless stay,  
Their carelessness of time, for they but bait,  
That they may stand at gaze, and fitly wait  
For honest passengers, when they have spied  
A likely-moneyd booty by them ride,  
Then will they bustle, and make hast away  
With far more speed then tedious was their stay.  
And cry yond rides their Uncle, or their friend  
With whom some earnest business they pretend;  
When in an Inn, they must all-night abide,  
They cunningly, sometimes themselves divide  
And come as several companies, thereby  
To cross the number in the Hue and Cry.  
Besides thus parted, they are sure to know  
If otherwise then well, the squares should go,  
They of each other will no notice take  
Of you (mine Host) they will enquiry make  
What their companions are? what Countrymen?  
Whether you know them yea or no? and than  
If they can find you have a jealousy  
Shrewdly suspecting either company,  
Having discovered your opinion  
With all convenient speed, they will get gone,  
But if you do (as well you may) mistake them  
And that for honest travellers you take them,  
They (as by chance) will in your kitchen meet,  
And as mere strangers, one another greet,  
There will they drink together, ere they go  
From thence, so loving and so kind they grow  
That they willsup together, mark them well  
And you their cunning knavery shall smell.  
Still strangers to each other will they be,  
Whilst any of your house are there to see;  
But see, and be not seen, and you shall find  
Them all familiar in another kind,  
They will Embrace, rejoice, laugh at their plot  
And at mine Host that he suspects it not.  
The fairest Inns they usually frequent,  
Out of a wary-politicke intent,  
Presuming, for disparaging the man  
They will not search his house, and there they can  
Rest unmolested, but since this you know  
Let not the subtle thief, escape you so.  
☞ lo here I have unclasped this obscure book,  
And full Quotations on those secrets took,  
That the plain eye of judging reason, may  
Discover such abuses of the way,  
And as 'tis said, that true repenters must  
Their secret sins, and all ills from them thrust,  
Lest the vild tainture of one crime behind  
Contaminate again the sinful mind,  
Thus have I left no nook, no cranny small,  
Which men may cunning or pernicious call  
Unopened here, before the curious day  
As clear and plain, as is the Champion way.  
No act, or use which thieves discover might,  
No Art, to make the honest know them right.  
Lest by retaining aught, it might be deemed,  
My true recanting is not, what it seemed.  
But mark my cautions well, and you will know  
That these way-riflers must some new way go  
Imagination, or their practice yet  
Could never reach to, or before you set  
Prevention of their worst assaults, their drifts  
In their attempt, and their best scaping shifts.  
Nor can I fear, but since so freely I  
Have here dissected such impiety,  
Anatomising every hidden Nerve  
That for the strength of such occasions serve,  
The charitable world will hence allow,  
That I those men and actions disavow  
I make so plain and hateful, nor again  
Will I my honour in those puddles stain,  
Nor can it be supposed by envy, that  
Any relap's of mine be aimed at,  
For mine own writ, must then in judgement stand  
And sign me unto death, mine own false hand;  
The jury, and the judge, in Evidence,  
Shall no enquiry need for mine offence,  
This book alone against all pity's plea,  
Turns all excuse into Apostrophe,  
Whilst dumb as death, with double shame I must  
‛ Count both my ruin, and my sentence just.  
Now let detracting censure, pause, and stay  
And turn rancorous spleens another way,  
And know that now in Censure, they do more  
Than I have done in all the rest before,  
When my determined Innocence shallbe  
A judge severe against their cruelty;  
☞ And such whose most unnecessary eye,  
Into forbidden acts of others pry,  
And when the man they curiously have read,  
Must then attempt the secrets of his bed,  
To poison all his blessings, nicely draw  
The Curtains, whose concealings no man saw  
Without a rude intruding, for the bed  
Of lawful couples being injured  
By base detractions, leads that troubled sense  
Into the fullest foulness of offence;  
And so my pillow's partner, to whose truth  
I owe the best reforming of my youth,  
As if she must be sharer of my wrongs,  
Though ne'er arraigned▪ was yet condemned by tongs.  
As if of force because she's mine, she must  
In spite of all her virtue be unjust,  
But I imagine rather this surmise,  
Doth from the common ground of ill arise,  
Or from that Envy, Satan left behind,  
When he infected our first mother's mind:  
Show me the man whose tenderest, dearest love,  
And whose affection in a strain doth move  
Beyond community, unto his wife,  
Who but in her, has neither soul, nor life,  
And give me reasons why his should transcend  
The debt I owe to mine unequal friend?  
Then will I yield my dotage, his love rare,  
And thus our obligations I compare.  
First, unto you whose marriages intent  
Have to the fortune of your choice extent  
More than the person, or those fair deserts  
Which make the blessedst contracts of the hearts,  
And love the purchase more of her estate  
Then her perfections, you ne'er leaveld at;  
You who were never caught with darting eyes,  
Whose best affections in her treasure lies,  
And never had your souls with love refined,  
Perverting the true use of either kind,  
Can yet in this your portions dotage, not  
Exceed the Income I by mine have got.  
For when I was adjudged, and doomed to die,  
She only by strange importunity  
Melted the hearts of all resolved against me,  
Who pitying her, set my life's danger free,  
In this my life, my fortune, and my all,  
I may her portion, and her blessing call.  
And last for other ties, which do oblige  
Such as to love's fair fortresses lay siege  
The simpathizing liking, and those parts  
Of love's religion, which locks lover's hearts  
Was thrown on me, and these who can disprove,  
Must either have no heart, or know no love:  
In pity then, to Citharaea's Shrine  
All you that sacrifice your thoughts divine,  
Since we are pleased, let none our peace molest,  
Nor break the Union of so sweet a rest,  
With nice inquiry, after things, you must  
Confess you have no business with, that's just,  
And we shall be, if you but leave us so,  
More happy, then 'tis fit for you to know.  
☞ Yet for myself, believe I have the sense  
Of mine own youth's abusing, and offence  
Which I have wrought against the Commonweal,  
Whose wounds by this relation I may heal,  
If my advice be followed, you will see  
The soul unlaced of highway subtlety.  
That who shall suffer now, in such offence,  
Has none to blame but his own negligence,  
I do beside my precious youth lament,  
My reput's forfeit, honour's lavishment,  
The dear mispences of my fairest time,  
Converting all my blessings into crime,  
My wit, my judgement, strength, courage, and all  
Unto my Country's mischief, mine own fall.  
Nor do I think it half enough that I  
Barely confess mine own impiety,  
And talking only to the people show  
Those guilts, perhaps before I speak, they know  
Or with a superficial gloss thus seen  
To flatter men into a fair esteem  
Of my best promised actions, whose event  
Might prove the speakers of a worse intent;  
No, naked as first Adam's Innocence,  
I strip the deformed shape of mine offence,  
Dislodging from my heart that banished spirit,  
That can no dwelling there again inherit,  
And on just cause divorced from such a bride,  
Can hardly now it's memory abide,  
Me thinks thus purged, I hate the very room  
Which that vild Inmates lodging was become,  
And as the bodies glorified, scorn  
The thoughts of joys wherewith their frailty's borne.  
Despising as it were the fullest things  
Which the dull earth to our admiring brings;  
So my refined soul, and my clear mind  
Can in these vild companions no peace find,  
But troubled at the old acquaintance grow,  
Thught-sick, that e'er such practice they did know.  
Or as the Epicure, whose working wish  
Is dreaming still uponsome curious dish,  
On which, his waking thoughts, and sleep employed  
Are busily, until it be enjoyed.  
Which purchased, his discretion is far less  
Than was his covetere he did possess,  
For gluttonizing his o're-charged chest,  
He neither can ungorge, nor yet digest,  
Till surfeited to death, he loathes it more  
Then ere he did embrace, or love before.  
So I whose easy youth, with fond admire,  
Was drawn, at first this ill course to desire,  
Hug'd it in dreams, and in my waking fits  
Doted upon't, to my worse loss of wits,  
Whilst esteemed none brave, or good, but this,  
But now I know how far I was amiss.  
And surfeited, as 'twere to death indeed,  
From which by rare ingredients I am freed.  
I loathe my stomacke-queller, and abhor  
What I in too much loving suffered for,  
Nor can profession free me from the doom  
Of cruelest censure and opinion,  
These actual ills of mine freely confessed  
Must be in act recovered, or expressed  
My fair intentions cannot be, nor I  
Saved from the tax of my first infamy.  
☞ O may my fate so well provide as now  
That power which knows, may help me in my vow,  
And crown my resolutions with some way  
Which of the world, and heaven recover may  
All my lost honour, by some acts of mine,  
That may prove far more welcome to the time.  
Then my disastrous courses, and express  
I am much better than I dare profess.  
And that great king, whose mercy, goodness, grace,  
Hath fixed my tottering life in a firm place,  
Whose royal bounty does I know expect  
From my so great enjoying, some effect  
Which may a thankful tribute pay to him,  
And speak the full redemption of my sin.  
You, mighty Sir, to whom my life I owe  
As debt to that great grace you did bestow,  
May now command it prostrate at your feet  
In any danger, (I shall haste to meet)  
That so by serving in your enterprise,  
You may perceive how true a sacrifice  
I'll make again, of what you gave so free,  
And that's the offering must accepted be.  
I hope (great Sir) it is not your intent  
That I shall spend my days in Banishment,  
For happier far is he condemned that dies,  
Then him you save t'exile from your fair eyes.  
For what avails the blinded man to see,  
If that a dungeon must his prison be?  
Where doubly cursed to be debarred from light  
He dwells, that knew't not, whilst he wanted sight,  
O let me live, where every day I may  
My most religious offerings truly pay;  
And that the life you gave me, be not made  
A trouble to me, whilst my thoughts invade  
My discontented soul with torments strange;  
Not that I must my air, and Country change,  
Or (bard inheriting thereby) forgo  
The temporal fortunes I am borne unto.  
But that the Shrine I worship should not see  
The constant sacrifice is made by me.  
Me thinks could do more than common men,  
(For no such obligation strengthens them)  
That my Prince might his own great power know,  
In service I could do upon his foe;  

So let me live, that venturing so to die,  
I pay my debt, and suffer happily.   
Vivit post funera, virtus.  
FINIS.   

To the Kings most excellent Majesty, john Clavell wisheth a long, and prosperous reign in this, and in the world to come, a plenteous share of those peculiar blessings, which God himself (out of his wonderful and abundant goodness) hath provided and set apart (even for the choicest of his elect) which are far beyond the imagniation of mortal men to conceive, much more impossible to be expressed.  
IT grieves my soul, and wounds my troubled mind,  
That only I alone must be confined,  
When others are let loose, that they may gain  
The honour they have lost, whilst my foul stain  
Blurs both my birth, and fortunes; had I died,  
My ignominious death had satisfied;  
But to live still, and still to live in shame,  
(Within the summons of upbraiding fame)  
Is a worse plague than ever Egypt had;  
It may be thought, I that have been so bad  
Cannot recant, but very likely may  
Fall to my old rebellion, on the way;  
First let this treaty plead; then here I call  
My God above to witness (who knows all  
The secrets of my heart) I do intend  
Whilst these your wars endure, even there to spend  
My time, in that brave service; when that ends  
(If ● chance to survive) I have then friends,  
And a poor fortune of my own, that can  
Fairly maintain me, like an honest man;  
If so your Highness please, that I may have  
My gracious pardon, (you so freely gave)  
What is required of me, I cannot pay,  
If that the means wherewith be kept away;  
Confined within these walls, is it your will  
That I a prisoner here, continue still?  
When I was past the cure, and help of men,  
You (that could only) shielded me, just then  
When death had taken level with his dart,  
Was it that I might feel this greater s●art?  
O no; I never since have begged that boon,  
But you (great Sir) have granted it right soon,  
Yet notwithstanding your most royal pleasure,  
I am enforced to tarry others leisure,  
Like Tantalus, in this my hell I see,  
And know the grace you have bestowed on me  
But may not touch it, and enjoy much less,  
The more's my grief, and my unhappiness,  
O free me from this lingering lethargy,  
Set me at liberty, or let me die.