HICKSCORNER.
By Saint Mary, then he shall not scape;
We will lead him straight to Newgate,
For ever there shall he lie.
FREEWILL.
Ah, see, ah, see, sirs, what I have brought,
A medicine for a pair of sore shins;
At the King's Bench, sirs, I have you sought,
But I pray you, who shall wear these?