Then out steps Francis Fabulator, that was never my friend:
How pass’d you Carter’s hay-rick at Long Meadow end?
There might one (quoth he) within this few days
With a cast-net had given four knaves great essays,
Under the hedge with a pair of new cards both rip and fledge.
Is it true? quoth my Lord: will this gear never be left?
This causes swearing and staring, prowling and theft.
Well (quoth my lord) take heed, lest I find it,
And so pass’d his way, and did no more mind it.
Haphazard. By the gods, that was sport, yea, and sport alone.