hangman's business sooner
Than from your hand to have the honour
Of his destruction; I, that am
A nothingness in deed and name,
Did scorn to hurt his forfeit carcase,
Or ill entreat his Fiddle or case;

. . . . .

Will you employ your conq'ring sword
To break a Fiddle, and your word?

. . . . .

... I think it better far
To keep him prisoner of war.'

. . . . .

He liked the squire's advice, and soon
Resolved to see the business done.

. . . . .

Ralpho dispatched with speedy haste,
And having ty'd Crowdero fast,
He gave Sir Knight the end of cord,
To lead the captive of his sword.

. . . . .

The Squire in state rode on before,
And on his nut-brown whinyard bore
The Trophy-Fiddle, and the case
Leaning on shoulder, like a mace.[7]
The Knight himself did after ride,
Leading Crowdero by his side,
And tow'd him if he lagg'd behind,
Like boat against the tide and wind.
Thus grave and solemn they march on,
Until quite thro' the town th' had gone,
At further end of which there stands
An ancient castle, that commands[8]
Th' adjacent parts; in all the fabric
You shall not see one stone nor a brick
But all of wood, by powerful spell
Of magic made impregnable.

. . . . .

Thither arriv'd, th' advent'rous Knight
And bold Squire from their steeds alight
At th' outward wall, near which there stands
A bastile, built t' imprison hands;

. . . . .

On top of this there is a spire
On which Sir Knight first bids the Squire
The Fiddle, and its spoils, the case,[9]
In manner of a trophy, place.
That done, they ope the trapdoor gate,
And let Crowdero down thereat;
Crowdero making doleful face,
Like hermit poor in pensive place.
To dungeon they the wretch commit,
And the survivor of his feet,
But the other that had broke the peace
And head of knighthood, they release,
Though a delinquent false and forged,
Yet b'ing a stranger, he's enlarged,
While his comrade that did not hurt
Is clapp'd up fast in prison for't;
So Justice, while she winks at crimes,
Stumbles on innocence sometime