I?8 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 



joined to sing the burthen with her. The ditty was this; but 

 first the burthen : 



Bright shines the sun ; play, beggars, play ! 

 Here's scraps enough to serve to-day. 



What noise of viols is so sweet, 



As when our merry clappers ring ? 

 What mirth doth want when beggars meet ? , 



A beggar's life is for a king. 

 Eat, drink, and play, sleep when we list, 

 Go where we will so stocks be miss'd. 



Bright shines the sun ; play, beggars, play ! 



Here 's scraps enough to serve to-day. 



The world is ours, and ours alone ; 



For we alone have world at will. 

 We purchase not all is our own ; 



Both fields and streets we beggars fill. 



Bright shines the sun ; play, beggars, play ! 



Here 's scraps enough to serve to-day. 



A hundred herds of black and white 



Upon our gowns securely feed ; 

 And yet if any dare us bite, 



He dies therefor, as sure as creed. 

 Thus beggars lord it as they please, 

 And only beggars live at ease. 



Bright shines the sun ; play, beggars, play ! 



Here's scraps enough to serve to-day. 



VEN. I thank you, good master, for this piece of merri- 

 ment, and this song, which was well humoured by the 

 maker, and well remembered by you. 



PlSC. But, I pray, forget not the catch which you pro- 

 mised to make against night ; for our countryman, honest 

 Condon, will expect your catch, and my song, which I must 





