“Why, they’re a set of jobbing knaves!”
Exclaimed the other three.
“Hush, hush! my friends,” quoth he, “you know,
That money makes the Mayor to go.
“And after feasts much broken food
Is given to the poor,”
“Why, they but give them back their own!”
Exclaim’d they, as before.
“Well, that,” said he, “I do not know,
But money makes the Mayor to go.”