[3700]And says, 'My Bona Roba, drink this bowl,
'Twill clear thy throat, and cheer thy drooping soul.'
Next came the mumping hostess and set down
A lusty dish of milk—sky-coloured blue,
Crumbed with the ludgets of the lusty brown,
Which two months since was piping hot and new;
'Yet 'tis', says she, 'as savoury in good law
As wheaten trash which crams the ladies' maw.'
This good old crone was troubled so with wind,
Her coats did dance to th' music of her belly.