But swore, That Hawley wou’d hang the devil.
The Duke did love to burn and plunder,
And sweet revenge upon them thunder,
On house and huts made devastation,
As it had been a foreign nation.
Their whole utensils, rock and reel,
To see in flames he loved well,
With dogs and cats, the rats and mice,
And their old shirts, with nites and lice,
Were all unto the flames consign’d,