Many such dishes more; but it would cumber
Any to name them, more than I can number.
Then comes the banquet, which must never fail,
That the town gave, of whitebread and strong ale.
All were so tipsie, that they could not go,
And yet would dance, and cry'd for music hoe:
With tonges and gridirons they were play'd unto,
And blind men sung, as they are us'd to do.
Some whistled, and some hollow sticks did sound,
And so melodiously they play around: