NIGHT. To the tune of Paggington's pound, sir. COKES. [sings.] _Fa, la la la, la la la, fa, la la la!_ Nay, I'll put thee in tune and all; mine own country dance! Pray thee begin. NIGHT. It is a gentle admonition, you must know, sir, both to the purse-cutter and the purse-bearer. COKES. Not a word more out of the tune, an thou lov'st me; _Fa, la la la, la la la, fa, la la la._ Come, when? NIGHT. [sings.] _My masters, and friends, and good people, draw near, And look to your purses, for that I do say;_ COKES. Ha, ha, this chimes! Good counsel at first dash. NIGHT. _And tho' little money in them you do bear, It costs more to get, than to lose in a day._ COKES. Good! NIGHT. _You oft have been told, Both the young and the old, And bidden beware of the cut-purse so bold;_ COKES. Well said! he were to blame that would not, i'faith. NIGHT. _Then if you take heed not, free me from the curse, Who both give you warning, for, and the cut-purse. Youth, youth, thou had'st better been starved by thy nurse, Than live to be hanged for cutting a purse._ COKES. Good, i'faith; how say you, Numps, is there any harm in this? NIGHT. _It hath been upbraided to men of my trade, That oftentimes we are the cause of this crime;_ COKES. The more coxcombs they that did it, I wusse. NIGHT. _Alack and for pity, why should it be said? As if they regarded or places or time! Examples have been Of some that were seen In Westminster-hall, yea the pleaders between; Then why should the judges be free from this curse, More than my poor self, for cutting the purse?_ COKES. God a mercy for that! why should they be more free indeed? NIGHT. _Youth, youth, thou had'st better been starved by thy nurse, Than live to be hanged for cutting a purse._ COKES. That again, good ballad-man, that again. [_He sings the burden with him._] O rare! I would fain rub mine elbow now, but I dare not pull out my hand.--On, I pray thee; he that made this ballad shall be poet to my masque. NIGHT. _At Worc'ster, 'tis known well, and even in the jail, A knight of good worship did there shew his face, Against the foul sinners, in zeal for to rail, And lost _ipso facto_ his purse in the place._ COKES. Is it possible? NIGHT. _Nay, once from the seat Of judgment so great, A judge there did lose a fair pouch of velvéte._ COKES. I'faith? NIGHT. _O Lord for thy mercy, how wicked or worse, Are those that so venture their necks for a purse! Youth, youth, thou had'st better been starv'd by thy nurse, Than lived to be hanged for cutting a purse._ COKES. [sings after him.] _Youth, youth, etc._--Pray thee, stay a little, friend. Yet o' thy conscience, Numps, speak, is there any harm in this? WASPE. To tell you true, 'tis too good for you, less you had grace to follow it. OVER. It doth discover enormity, I'll mark it more: I have not liked a paltry piece of poetry so well a good while. [_Aside._