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 Wine tooke possession of his drowsie head, And cheating Droone hath brought the foole to bed. The fidlers were dischargd, and al things whist, Then pilfring Droone gan vse him as he list. Ten pound he finds, the reckoning he doth pay, And with the residue passeth sheere away. Anon the Conny wakes, his coyne being gon, He exclaymes against dissimulation. But twas too late, the Cheater had his pray, Be wise young heads, care for an afterday.