Burgher

No, this new Burgomaster, I like him not, God knows, Now, he's in office, daily more arrogant he grows; And for the town, what doth he do for it? Are not things worse from day to day? To more restraints we must submit; And taxes more than ever pay.

BEGGAR (sings)

Kind gentleman and ladies fair, So rosy-cheek'd and trimly dress'd, Be pleas'd to listen to my prayer, Relieve and pity the distress'd. Let me not vainly sing my lay! His heart's most glad whose hand is free. Now when all men keep holiday, Should be a harvest-day to me.