LEADER. Poor vanity's son--
And dost think me outdone,
With a clamour no bigger
Than a maiden's first snigger?
(_To Chorus_) But strike up a tune,
He shall not forget soon

(_Chorus_.) Of our croak, croak, croak,

(_Croak, with a discordant crash of music_.)

BACCHUS. I'm cinder, I'm coke,
I have had my death-stroke;
O, that ever I woke
To be gall'd by the yoke
Of this croak, croak, croak, croak.

LEADER. Friend, friend, I may not be still:
My destinies high I must needs fulfil,
And the march of creation--despite reprobation
Must proceed with--(_To Chor._) my lads, must I make application
For a--

_Chorus_. Croak, croak, croak.

BACCHUS (_in a minor key._) Nay, nay--take your own way,
I've said out my say,
And care naught, by my fai',
For your croak, croak, croak.