JOHNNY.
Filthy troop, is it? Mind yourself! The change is coming. The pikes will be up and the traders will go down!
All seize THOMAS and sing.
When the Lion will lose his strength,
And the braket-thistle begin to pine,
The harp shall sound sweet, sweet at length,
Between the eight and the nine!
THOMAS.
Let me out of this, you villains!
NANNY.