Now, now the mirth comes,
With the cake full of plums,
Where bean's the king of the sport here;
Beside, we must know,
The pea also
Must revel as queen in the court here.
Begin then to choose,
This night, as ye use,
Who shall for the present delight here;
Be a king by the lot,
And who shall not
Be Twelfth-day queen for the night here.
Which known, let us make
Joy-sops with the cake;
And let not a man then be seen here,
Who unurged will not drink,
To the base from the brink,
A health to the king and the queen here.
Next crown the bowl full
With gentle lamb's-wool;
Add sugar, nutmeg, and ginger,
With store of ale, too;
And thus ye must do
To make the wassail a swinger.
Give them to the king
And queen wassailing;
And though with ale ye be wet here;
Yet part ye from hence,
As free from offence,
As when ye innocent met here.
THE BAG OF THE BEE
About the sweet bag of a bee,
Two Cupids fell at odds;
And whose the pretty prize should be,
They vowed to ask the gods.
Which Venus hearing, thither came,
And for their boldness stript them;
And taking thence from each his flame,
With rods of myrtle whipt them.
Which done, to still their wanton cries,
When quiet grown she'ad seen them,
She kissed and wiped their dove-like eyes
And gave the bag between them.