And when our mony is all spent,

Then sell our goods, and spend our rent; Or drinke it up with one consent,

And ever tosse the pot.

Chorus.-Tosse the pot.

When all is gone, we have no more,
Then let us set it on the score;

Or chalke it up behinde the dore,

And ever tosse the pot.

Chorus.-Tosse the pot, &c.

And when our credit is all lost,

Then may we goe and kisse the post, And eat browne bread in steed of rost,

And ever tosse the pot.

Chorus. Tosse the pot, &c.

Let us conclude as we began,

And tosse the pot from man to man,
And drinke as much now as we can,

And ever tosse the pot.

Chorus.-Tosse the pot, &c.

XLVIII.

Methinkes one Tooth is Drye.

(FROM THE SAME.)

TRUDGE away quickly and fill the black bole,
Devoutly as long as wee bide;

Now welcome good fellowes, both strangers and all,

Let madnes and mirth set sadnes aside.

Of all reckonings, I love good cheere,
With honest folkes in company;

And when drinke comes my part for to beare,
For still methinkes one tooth is drye.

Love is a pastime for a king,

If one be seene in Phisnomie; But I love well this pot to wring,

For still methinkes one tooth is drie.

Masters, this is all my desire,

I would no drinke should passe us by ; Let us now sing and mend the fier, For still methinkes one tooth is drye.

Mr. Butler, give us a taste

Of your best drinke so gently; A jugge or twain, and make no waste, For still methinkes one tooth is drie.

Mr. Butler, of this take part;

Ye love good drinke as well as I; And drinke to mee with all your hart,

For still methinkes one tooth is drie.

XLIX.

The Morris Dancers.

FROM Weelkes' " Ayeres or Phantasticke Spirits for three voices." Printed by William Barley, 1608, 4to.

••

STRIKE it up, tabor

And pipe us a favour;

Thou shalt be well paid for thy labour :

I meane to spend my shoe sole,

To daunce about the May pole:

I will be blith and briske

Leap and skip,

Hop and trip,

Turne about,

In the rout,

Until my weary joyntes can scarse friske.

Lusty Dicke Hopkin,

Lay on with thy napkin,

The stitching cost me but a dodkin :

The morris were halfe undone

Wert not for Martin of Compton.

O well said jiging Alice,
Pretty Gill,

Stand you still,

Dapper Jacke,

Meanes to smacke,

How now! fie, fie, fie, you dance false !