What, if your company cause me have woe,
I mind not companions so soon to forego.
Let hope hold the helmet, till brunt it be past,
For blows are but buffets and words but a blast.
[All.] With thwick thwack, with thump thump,
With bobbing and bum,
Our side-saddle shoulders shall shield that doth come.
Hope so, and hap so, in hazard, &c.
Haphazard [sings].
Then let us be merry, it is but by hap,