Patrico Why, this is a sport,
See it north, see it south,
For the taste of the court,
Jackman For the court’s own mouth.
Come Windsor, the town,
With the mayor, and oppose,
We’ll put them all down,
Patrico Do-do-down like my hose.
A gypsy in his shape
More calls the beholder
Than the fellow with the ape,
Jackman Or the ape on his shoulder.
He’s a sight that will take
An old judge from his wench,
Ay, and keep him awake,
Patrico Yes, awake on the bench;
And has so much worth,
Though he sit i’the stocks,
He will draw the girls forth,
Jackman Ay, forth i’their smocks.
Tut, a man’s a man;
Let the clowns with their sluts
Come mend us if they can,
Patrico If they can, for their guts.
Come mend us, come lend us
Their shouts and their noise,
Both Like thunder, and wonder
At Ptolemy’s boys.
Come mend us, come lend us
Their shouts and their noise,
Like thunder, and wonder
At Ptolemy’s boys.