To my now kinde friend, Mr. Iohn Towne.

E PIG . 272.

I OHN , we squabbl'd once thou hewdst me downe;
 No maruell, when I fought against a Towne.
I brocht thy blood, but thou didst sluce out mine;
Mine the worse lucke, the better hap was thine
But twenty yeares and more haue seasoned since
With friendships sweete, the sowre of that offence:
 Yet hadst thou not at that time cut me downe,
 I had hang'd in hope (alone) t'haue woone a Towne.