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To have good cheer in jolly sort, And deck us fine and brave."
Thus lived in filthy sort, Until their store was gone:
When means to get them any more, I-wis poor George had none.
Therefore in railing sort, She thrust him out of door;
Which is the just reward of those, Who spend upon a whdre.
" O do me not disgrace
In this my need," quoth he :
She called him thief and murderer, With all the spight might be.
To the constable she sent, To have him apprehended;
And shewed how far, in each degree, He had the laws offended.
When Barnwell saw her drift, To sea he got straightway;
Where fear and sting of conscience Continually on him lay.
Unto the lord mayor then,
He did a letter write, In which his own and Sarah's fault
He did at large recite.