If I only had a blunderbuss, I could be a REAL dashing highwayman. One who would rob the men, kiss the ladies, and give all the money I stole to the poor, who would then honor me with flowers as I was taken to be turned off at Tyburn. And a horse. A horse would facilitate the chases across the countryside under the full moon to the Inn where the innkeeper's daughter fair would be pining for me and where her father would betray me to the King (see Tyburn, above) and later realize that by doing so he had driven his only daughter, the joy of the his heart, to cast herself from the bridge and into the swirling maelstrom below at the same time I was hung at Tyburn.