LXXXVI + 

“Counts of the palace, and the state purveyor + 

Of moth’s-down, to make soft the royal beds, + 

The Common Council and my fool Lord Mayor + 

Marching a-row, each other slipshod treads; + 

Powder’d bag-wigs and ruffy-tuffy heads + 

Of cinder wenches meet and soil each other; + 

Toe crush’d with heel ill-natured fighting breeds, + 

Frill-rumpling elbows brew up many a bother, + 

And fists in the short ribs keep up the yell and pother. + 