The next that came by was a tawny Moor,
and the Devil bid him see,
And he fleered on his tawny skin,
crying, Friend, art thou any kin to me?
For sure your skin doth resemble our kin,
therefore let us walk together,
And tell me how you do allow,
of this tempestuous weather.
Then the next that came by was a Gun-powder man,
which coales and brimstone sifted,