Ha, Ha, Ha!

Oh, how my lungs do tickle! ha, ha, ha!
Oh, how my lungs do tickle! ho, ho, ho, ho!

Set a sharp jest
Against my breast,
Then how my lungs do tickle!

As nightingales,
And things in cambric rails,
Sing best against a prickle.

Ha, ha, ha, ha!

Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!
Laugh! Laugh! Laugh! Laugh I
Wide! Loud! And vary!
A smile is for a simpering novice,
One that ne'er tasted caviare,
Nor knows the smack of dear anchovies.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!
A giggling waiting wench for me,
That shows her teeth how white they be!
A thing not fit for gravity,
For theirs are foul and hardly three.

Ha, ha, ha!

Ho, ho, ho!
Democritus, thou ancient fleerer.

How I miss thy laugh, and ha' since!

There you named the famous['t] jeerer,
That ever jeered in Rome or Athens.

Ha, ha, ha!

Ho, ho, ho!

How brave lives he that keeps a fool,
Although the rate be deeper!
But he that is his own fool, sir,
Does live a great deal cheaper.
Sure I shall burst, burst, quite break,
Thou art so witty.
'Tis rare to break at court,
For that belongs to the city.
Ha, ha! my spleen is almost worn
To the last laughter.
Oh, keep a corner for a friend;
A jest may come hereafter.