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11 Row. Iailors are tender hearted,
that doe their prisons keepe: To thinke on poore mens miseries,
their yron hearts doe weepe: The poore men they relieue,
and giue the rich their due. Iohn. I neuer will beleeue this,
tis too good to be true.
12 Ro. You there shall see no drunkards,
in walking through the street: The stockes stand euer emptie,
all's sober that you meet. He's hated that's but seene,
amidst a drunken crew. Iohn. I neuer will beleeue this,
Tis too good to be true.
13 Row. Picthatch, and garden Allies,
Turnebull, and Mutton lane, Of truth are now turn'd honest,
and hate vnlawfull gaine. Bridewell did them conuert,
and clad their backes in blew.1 Iohn. I neuer will beleeue this,
tis too good to be true.
14 Row. Fleetstreet has2 nere a cheater,
White-fryers ne're a whore: Tiburne is now deliuered,
and beareth theeues no more. And Smithfield now is rid,
of those horse-cheating crew. Iohn. I neuer will beleeue this,
tis too good to be true.
1 Cf. No. 6, above. 2 Text ha's.
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