But when I strove my flame to tell, / Says she, 'Come, stow that patter, / If you're a cove wot likes a gal, / Vy don't you stand some gatter?' / In course I instantly complied— / Two brimming quarts of porter, / With sev'ral goes of gin beside, / Drain'd Bet the Coaley's daughter.
Source: wiktionary