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Nay, more I'll bring to quitmy Scores,
A crew of Toping Sons of Whores,
Shall Drink all Night and charm the Hours,
With Fa, la, la, la, la, la, &c. Host. Ye cunning Rogue this weedling talk, You fancy will rub out my Chalk; But I your sly design will baulk, When you to Jayl I draw: Your boasted Song's a foolish thing, For do but you the Money bring; You'll find, I can already Sing, Fa la, la, la, la, la, &c.
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[Music: Sharp.
Host. ]