And if I had him here, his joynts would I tear,
he should neither scratch, no, nor bite,
I would plague the Devil, for all his evil,
and make him leave walking by night.
Then a Tinker worse than all the rest,
although he was not so black,
By chance as he came passing by,
with his budget on his back:
He cry'd, Yonder is the Devil's tree
let us see who dar'st go thither,