Bearing all down before us in Church and in State.
Your Impudence is the best State-trick,
And he that by Law means to rule,
Let his History with ours be related,
Tho we prove the Knaves, ’tis he is the Fool.
War. The Diel a me, wele sung, my Lord, and gen aud Trades fail, yas make a quaint Minstrel.
All. He, he, he.
War. Noo, Sirs, yar Dance? [They fling Cushions at one another, and grin. Musick plays.] —Marry, Sirs, an this be yar dancing, tol dance and ne’er stir Stap, the Diel [lead the Donce] for Archibald.
[When they have flung Cushions thus a while to the Musick time, they beat each other from the Table, one by one, and fall into a godly Dance; after a while, Wariston rises, and dances ridiculously a while amongst them; then to the Time of the Tune, they take out the rest, as at the [Cushion-Dance], or in that nature. Wariston being the last taken in, leads the rest.
—Haud, Minstrels, haud; Bread a gued. I’s fatch ad Ladies in—lead away, Minstrels, tol my Lady’s Apartment.