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      — The snare drum! Lay yer lug till the groun. The dead giant 
manalive! They're playing thimbles and bodkins. Clan of the
Gael! Hop! Whu's within?
     — Dovegall and finshark, they are ring to the rescune! 
     — Zinzin. Zinzin. 
     — Crum abu! Cromwell to victory! 
     — We'll gore them and gash them and gun them and gloat on 
them.
     — Zinzin. 
     — O, widows and orphans, it's the yeomen! Redshanks for 
ever! Up Lancs!
     — The cry of the roedeer it is! The white hind. Their slots, 
linklink, the hound hunthorning! Send us and peace! Title! Title!
     — Christ in our irish times! Christ on the airs independence! 
Christ hold the freedman's chareman! Christ light the dully
expressed!
     — Slog slagt and sluaghter! Rape the daughter! Choke the 
pope!
     — Aure! Cloudy father! Unsure! Nongood! 
     — Zinzin. 
— Sold! I am sold! Brinabride! My ersther! My sidster!
Brinabride, goodbye! Brinabride! I sold!
     — Pipette dear! Us! Us! Me! Me! 
     — Fort! Fort! Bayroyt! March! 
     — Me! I'm true. True! Isolde. Pipette. My precious! 
     — Zinzin. 
     — Brinabride, bet my price! Brinabride! 
     — My price, my precious? 
     — Zin. 
     — Brinabride, my price! When you sell get my price! 
     — Zin. 
     — Pipette! Pipette, my priceless one! 
     — O! Mother of my tears! Believe for me! Fold thy son! 
     — Zinzin. Zinzin. 
     — Now we're gettin it. Tune in and pick up the forain 
counties! Hello!