Thy cursed breath infectë will us all: Fy! stinking swine, fy! foul may thee befall. Ah! takë heed, Sirs, of this lusty man. Now, sweetë Sir, will ye joust at the fan? 4925 Thereto, me thinketh, ye be well y-shape. I trow that ye have drunken wine of ape, 4926 And that is when men playë with a straw.”