First Page. Shall we clap into’t roundly, without 010 hawking or spitting or saying we are hoarse, which are [011] the only prologues to a bad voice?
Sec. Page. I’faith, i’faith; and both in a tune, like two gipsies on a horse.
Song.
It was a lover and his lass,
015 With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
That o’er the green corn-field did pass
[017] In the spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding:
Sweet lovers love the spring.
020 Between the acres of the rye,