Tom. He bringeth in his hand either good ale or else good wine.
Philip Fleming singeth these four lines following:
Troll the bowl and drink to me, and troll the bowl again,
And put a brown toast in [the] pot for Philip Fleming's brain.
And I shall toss it to and fro, even round about the house-a:
Good hostess, now let it be so, I brink them all carouse-a.
Philip. Marry, here is a pot of noppy good ale.
As clear as crystal pure and stale.
Now a crab in the fire were worth a good groat,
That I might quass with my captain Tom Tosspot.