That smother'd you because you pawn'd my handkerchief.
Geo. Barnwell. Why, neger, so eager about your rib immaculate?
Milwood shows for hanging us they've got an ugly knack o' late;
If on beauty stead of duty but one peeper bent he sees,
Satan waits with Dolly baits to hook in us apprentices.
Omnes. Round let us bound, for this is Punch's holiday,
Glory to tomfoolery. Huzza! huzza!
Hamlet. I'm Hamlet in camlet, my ap and perihelia,
The moon can fix which lunatics makes sharp or flat.
I stuck by ill-luck, enamour'd of Ophelia,