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 And Cron will hold his owne, or't shal go hard, The diuel helpe him for a small reward: The diuels helpe, oh tis a mightie thing, If he but say the word, Cron is a King. Oh then the diuel is greater yet then hee: I thought as much, the diuell would master bee. And reason too (saith Cron) for what care I, So I may liue as God, and neuer die. Yea golden Cron, death will make thee away, And each dog Cron, must haue a dying day. And with this resolution I bequeath thee To God, to the diuel, and so I leaue thee.