Hark how the Minstrels ‘gin to shrill aloud,
Their merry music that resounds from far,
The pipe, the tabor, and the trembling Crowd,
That well agree withouten breach or jar.
But most of all the damsels do delight,
When they their timbrels smite,
And there unto do dance and carol sweet,
That all the senses they do ravish quite,
The whiles the boys run up and down the street,
Crying aloud with strong confusèd noise,
As if it were one voice. 
Hymen, Io Hymen, Hymen they do shout.