The Alchemist by Ben Jonson
page 48 of 372 (12%)
page 48 of 372 (12%)
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Would run themselves from breath, to see me ride,
Or you t' have but a hole to thrust your heads in, For which you should pay ear-rent? No, agree. And may don Provost ride a feasting long, In his old velvet jerkin and stain'd scarfs, My noble sovereign, and worthy general, Ere we contribute a new crewel garter To his most worsted worship. SUB. Royal Dol! Spoken like Claridiana, and thyself. FACE. For which at supper, thou shalt sit in triumph, And not be styled Dol Common, but Dol Proper, Dol Singular: the longest cut at night, Shall draw thee for his Doll Particular. [BELL RINGS WITHOUT.] SUB. Who's that? one rings. To the window, Dol: [EXIT DOL.] -- pray heaven, The master do not trouble us this quarter. FACE. O, fear not him. While there dies one a week O' the plague, he's safe, from thinking toward London. Beside, he's busy at his hop-yards now; I had a letter from him. If he do, He'll send such word, for airing of the house, As you shall have sufficient time to quit it: |
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