He wish’d stout Crabstick couldn’t kill fat Friar.
Men’s wishes will be partial, now and then;—
As, in this case, ’tis plainly seen;
Wherein, Sir Thomas, full of spleen,
Wish’d to burn all the Crabs, and Clergymen.
Think ye that he,—at wishing tho’ a dab,—
To wish such harm to any Knight would urge ye?
Yet he, a Knight, had taken up a Crab,
And thump’d to death, with it, one of the Clergy.