For if there be Twelve Grimes all of a Name,
By my own Honour all should dye.
Sir Hugh of the Grime's condemn'd to dye,
And of his Friends he had no lack;
Fourteen Foot he leapt in his Ward,
His Hands bound fast upon his Back.
Then he look'd over his left Shoulder,
To see whom he could see or 'spye;
There was he aware of his Father dear,
Came tearing his Hair most pitifully.