A Caveat for Cutpurses.
With a warning to all purse-carriers, shewing the
con-
fidence of the first , and the carelesnesse of the last.
With necessary admonitions for them both, lest the
Hangman get the one, and the beggar take the other.
TO THE TUNE OF, Packington's Pound
My masters, and friends, and good people,
draw near,
And look to your purses for that I do say;
And though little mony in them you do bear,
It costs more to get than to lose in a day;
You oft have been told, both the young and
the old,
And bidden beware of the Cut-purse so bold;
Then, if you take heed not, free me from
the curse,
Who both give you warning for and the cut-purse.
Youth, youth you hadst better been starv'd
by thy nurse,
Than live to be hang'd for cutting as
purse.
It hath been upbraided to men of my trade,
That oftentimes we are the cause of this
crime.
Alack and for pitty! why should it be said,
As if they regarded or places or time?
Examples have been of those 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 is, for cutting a
purse?
Youth, youth, &tc.
At Worster, 'tis known well that even in
the jale,
A knight of good worship did there shew his
face.
Against the foul sinners in zeale for to
raile,
And so lost, ipso facto, his purse
in the place:
Nay, once from the seat of judgement so great,
A judge there did lose a fair pouch of velvet.
Oh Lord! for thy mercy how wicked, or worse,
Are those that so venture their necks for
a purse!
Youth, youth, &tc.
At playes and at sermons and at the Sessions,
'Tis daily their practice such booty to make;
Yea under the gallows, at executions,
They stick not the stare-abouts' purses to
take;
Nay, one without grace, at a better place,
At Court, and in Christmas, before the Kings
face.
Alack then for pitty! must I bear the curse,
That only belongs to the cunning Cut-purse?
Youth, youth you hadst better been starv'd
by thy nurse,
Than live to be hang'd for cutting as
purse.
But oh, you vile nation of Cut-purses all!
Relent and repent, and amend, and be sound,
And know that you ought not by honest men's
fall
Advance your own fortunes to dye above ground:
And though you go gay in silks, as you may,
It is not the highway to heaven, as they
say.
Repent then, repent you, for better for worse,
And kiss not the gallows for cutting a purse.
Youth, youth you hadst better been starv'd
by thy nurse,
Than live to be hang'd for cutting as
purse.
The players doe tell you in Bartholemew Faire
What secret consumptions and rascels you
are;
For one of their actors, it seems, had the
fate,
By some of you trade to be fleeced of late:
Then fall to your prayers, you that are way-layers!
They're fit to chouse all the world that
can cheat players;
For he hath the art, and no man the worse,
Whose cunning can pilfer the pilferer's purse.
Youth, youth, &tc.
The plain countryman that comes staring to
London,
If once you come near him he quickly is undone;
For when he amazedly gazeth about,
One treads on his toes, and the other puls't
out;
Then in a strange place, where he knows no
face,
His mony is gone, 'tis a pittifull case.
The divel of hell in his trade is not worse
Than gilter, and diver, and cutter of purse.
Youth, &tc.
The poor servant maid wears her purse in
her placket,
A place of quick feeling, and yet you can
take it;
Nor is she aware that you have done the feat,
Untill she is going to pay for her meat;
Then she cryes and she rages amongst her
baggages,
And swears at one thrust she hath lost all
her wages;
For she is ingaged her own to disburse,
To make good the breach of the cruel Cut-purse.
Youth, &tc.
Your eyes and your fingers are nimble of
growth,
But Dun many times hath been nimbler than
both;
Yet you are deceived by many a slut,
But the hangman is only the Cut-purses cut.
It makes you to vex when he bridles your
necks,
And then at the last what becomes of your
tricks?
But when you should pray, you begin for to
curse
The hand that first shewd you to slash at
purse.
Youth, &tc.
But now to my hearers this counsel I give,
And pray, friends, remember it as long as
you live,
Bring out no more cash in purse, pocket or
wallet,
Than one single penny to pay for the ballet;
For Cut-purse doth shrowd himself in a cloud,
There's many a purse hath been lost in a
crowd;
For he's the most rouge that doth crowd up,
and curses,
Who first cryes, "My masters, beware of your
purses!"
Youth, youth you hadst better been starv'd
by thy nurse,
Than live to be hang'd for cutting at
purse.
Printed for W. Gilbertson.
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