're rising. The devil's in the
mare, she cares for nothing." And as they ascended the hill, Dick's
voice once more awoke the echoes of night.

WILL DAVIES AND DICK TURPIN

Hodie mihi, cras tibi.--SAINT AUGUSTIN.

One night, when mounted on my mare,
To Bagshot Heath I did repair,
And saw Will Davies hanging there,
Upon the gibbet bleak and bare,
_With a rustified, fustified, mustified air!_

Within his chains bold Will looked blue,
Gone were his sword and snappers too,
Which served their master well and true;
Says I, "Will Davies, how are you?
_With your rustified, fustified, mustified air!_"

Says he, "Dick Turpin, here I be,
Upon the gibbet, as you see;
I take the matter easily;
_You'll_ have your turn as well as me,
_With your whistle-me, pistol-me, cut-my-throat air!_"

Says I, "That's very true, my lad;
Meantime, with pistol and with prad,
I'm quite contented as I am,
And heed the gibbet not a d--n!
_With its rustified, fustified, mustified air!_"

"Poor Will Davies!" sighed Dick; "Bagshot ought never to forget
him."[110]

For never more shall Bagshot see
A highwayman of such degree,
Appearance, and gentility,
As Will, who hangs upon the tree,
_With his rustified, fustified, mustified air!_

"Well," mused Turpin, "I suppose one day it will be with me like all the
rest of 'em, and that I shall dance a long lavolta to the music of the
four whistling winds, as my betters have done before me; but I trust,
whenever the chanter-culls and last-speech scribblers get hold of me,
they'll at least put no cursed nonsense into my mouth, but make me
speak, as I have ever felt, like a man who never either feared death, or
turned his back upon his friend. In the mean time I'll give them
something to talk about. This ride of mine shall ring in their ears long
after I'm done for--put to bed with a mattock, and tucked up with a
spade.

And when I am gone, boys, each huntsman shall say,
None rode like Dick Turpin, so far in a day.

And thou, too, brave Bess!--thy name shall be linked with mine, and
we'll go down to posterity together; and what," added he, despondingly,
"if it should be too much for thee? what if----but no matter! Better die
now, while I am with thee, than fall into the knacker's hands. Better
die with all thy honors upon thy head, than drag out thy old age at th