Save a Theefe from the Gallowes and hee'l hang thee if he can:
Or, The mercifull Father, and the mercilesse Sonne.
To the tune of, Fortune my Foe.
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YOu disobedient children marke my fall,
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And at my timelesse end take warning all.
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Against my owne deare Father have I done
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A deede the like did never gracelesse Sonne.
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In blooming yeares I was intic'd to sinne,
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Ere I perceiv'd what danger lay therein:
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And so from day to day, unto this houre,
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To leave the same I had not any power.
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My Mother dead, my Father cockered me,
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As men will doe when motherlesse we be,
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And nothing then he thought for me too deare,
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Which brought me thus into a gracelesse feare.
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And when as I to elder yeeres did grow,
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By wicked courses got I timelesse woe:
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Each vaine delight belonging to young men,
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Deceived me, and brought my ruine then.
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The deadly sinnes that are in number seven,
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Without more grace hath lost my joyes in heaven:
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From first to last of those most cursed crimes,
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Have made me now a wonder of these times.
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For wanting meanes to nourish up delight,
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I went the wrong, and left the waies of right:
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[W]hich to maintain, my father being grown poore,
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[For]getting God, I daily rob'd for more.
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[Th]ree times he sav'd me from the Gallow tree,
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[Three ti]mes he cast himselfe in debt for mee,
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[Three times] he set me up in good estate,
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[In hope to] keepe me from untimely fate.
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[By me the] proverb is fulfilled here,
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[Who saves a] theefe from gallows finds it deare:
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[For saving me I sought his deare lifes woe,
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My gentle fathers timelesse overthrow.]
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So wanting meanes still to relieve my neede,
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Put me in mind to doe a hatefull deede,
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And seeke by blood the highway unto sinne,
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Who wanting grace I soone grew perfect in.
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My Fathers brother of good livings knowne,
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Being dead, as next of kin they were mine owne:
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The which I wrought with these accursed hands,
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To be the heire of all mine Uncles lands.
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With mind prepar'd for murder, thus I went
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Into the field which he did much frequent:
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Where meeting him with mine own fathers knife,
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Which I had stolne, I tooke full soone his life.
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And laid it then all bloudy by his side,
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That all might see my Uncle therewith dide,
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And challeng'd it my Fathers knife to be,
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When people came the murthered corps to see.
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O homicide, O cursed viprous brood,
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Like Caine, to seeke my dearest Fathers bloud:
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My owne deare Father being thus betraide,
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I his owne childe the evidence was made.
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So judg'd to death for that he never did,
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The Lord in mercy did the same forbid:
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For as he was to execution led,
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A world of torments in my bosome bred.
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To see him stand upon the Gallow tree,
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From which before (good man) he saved me,
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I could not chuse but tell what I had done,
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And so confesse myselfe a wicked sonne.
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Gods judgement now is rightly showne, said I,
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Deare Father I have slaine him, let [me die:
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Oh let me die, and set my father free,
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Or else like Judas shall I damned be.]
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WHereat the people all in that same place,
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There praised God that gave me so much grace,
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To quit my Father from that crying sin,
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Where I with blood-red streams am drowned in.
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My Father sav'd and I to prison sent,
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Where now I live with many a sad lament:
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Which when you heare, you cannot chuse but say,
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Repentance comes before my dying day.
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