For why Sir, he never intended to pay:
But like a false Loon he slipt out of door,
And never intended to come there no more,
Poor Shonny-ap-Morgan, was left for the Score,
Cotzo her was never so served before.
Her paying the Shot, then away her went,
The Welch blood was up, and her mind was bent,
For speedy pursuing he then did prepare,
Then Morgan did mount upon Bob the Gray Mare:
Then Whip and Spur stout Shonny did ride,