For having left, in the Caliph’s kitchen,
Of a nest of scorpions no survivor— 180
With him I proved no bargain-driver,
With you, don’t think I’ll bate a stiver!
And folks who put me in a passion
May find me pipe to another fashion.’
‘How?’ cried the Mayor, ‘d’ye think I’ll brook 185
Being worse treated than a Cook?
Insulted by a lazy ribald
With idle pipe and vesture piebald?