Old Polony like a sausage, and exclaim'd, "Rat! Rat!"
Ghost. Let Gertrude sup the poisoned cup, no more I'll be an actor in
Such sorry food, but drink home-brew'd of Whitbread's manufacturing.
Macheath. I'll Polly it, and folly it, and dance it quite the dandy O,
But as for tunes I have but one, and that is "Drops of Brandy O."
Omnes. Round let us bound, for this is Punch's holiday,
Glory to tomfoolery. Huzza! huzza!
Juliet. I'm Juliet Capulet, who took a dose of hellebore,
A Hell-of-a-bore I found it to put on a pall.