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Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show;
But wonder on, till truth make all things plain.
This band is TOAST!, if you would know;
This beauteous bar SIlverton Cafe certain.
I wasted time, and now doth time waste me
from 8:30 to 12:30 there shall they be.
There wilt be Tom Vogel, where dost
The kettle-drum bray out
While Dale Lewis doth declaim
"What, dost thou make us minstrels? An
thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but
discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall
make you dance."
SG doth take up his instrument, at which all ask
"Why masters, have your instruments been in Naples,
that they speak i' the nose thus?
Are these, I pray you, wind-instruments?
O, thereby hangs a tail."
There is also Sleigh, the man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds.
While Mastwe Steele, that piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast,
Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point.
We hear Sweet Richard declaim "You would play upon me;
you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery;
you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass;
and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ,
yet cannot you make it speak.
And perhaps yet Mike of the Russell
who is Vogel's double,double, toil and trouble.
Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum.
Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend.
In far Silverton, you shall, if you will,
enjoy an evening full of merriment and delight!
(Or, the modern translation: "Hey, Toast is playing at SIlverton Cafe this Friday night from 8:30 to 12:30, and we'd love to see you out there in the audience, so plan on coming!)
But wonder on, till truth make all things plain.
This band is TOAST!, if you would know;
This beauteous bar SIlverton Cafe certain.
I wasted time, and now doth time waste me
from 8:30 to 12:30 there shall they be.
There wilt be Tom Vogel, where dost
The kettle-drum bray out
While Dale Lewis doth declaim
"What, dost thou make us minstrels? An
thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but
discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall
make you dance."
SG doth take up his instrument, at which all ask
"Why masters, have your instruments been in Naples,
that they speak i' the nose thus?
Are these, I pray you, wind-instruments?
O, thereby hangs a tail."
There is also Sleigh, the man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds.
While Mastwe Steele, that piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast,
Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point.
We hear Sweet Richard declaim "You would play upon me;
you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery;
you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass;
and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ,
yet cannot you make it speak.
And perhaps yet Mike of the Russell
who is Vogel's double,double, toil and trouble.
Far off, methinks, I hear the beaten drum.
Come, father, I'll bestow you with a friend.
In far Silverton, you shall, if you will,
enjoy an evening full of merriment and delight!
(Or, the modern translation: "Hey, Toast is playing at SIlverton Cafe this Friday night from 8:30 to 12:30, and we'd love to see you out there in the audience, so plan on coming!)