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The Poetaster by Ben Jonson
page 47 of 324 (14%)

Lus. Yes, against the state of my master's purse.
[Aside, and exit.
Pyr. [aloud.] Sir, Agrippa desires you to forbear him till the next
week; his mules are not yet come up.

Tuc. His mules! now the bots, the spavin, and the glanders, and
some dozen diseases more, light on him and his mules! What, have
they the yellows, his mules, that they come no faster? or are
they foundered, ha? his mules have the staggers belike, have they?

Pyr. O no, sir;--then your tongue might be suspected for one of his
mules.
[Aside.
Tuc He owes me almost a talent, and he thinks to bear it away with
his mules, does he? Sirrah, you nut cracker. Go your ways to him
again, and tell him I must have money, I: I cannot eat stones and
turfs, say. What, will he clem me and my followers? ask him an he
will clem me; do, go. He would have me fry my jerkin, would he?
Away, setter, away. Yet, stay, my little tumbler, this old boy
shall supply now. I will not trouble him, I cannot be importunate,
I; I cannot be impudent.

Pyr. Alas, sir, no; you are the most maidenly blushing creature
upon the earth.
[Aside
Tuc. Dost thou hear, my little six and fifty, or thereabouts? thou
art not to learn the humours and tricks of that old bald cheater,
Time; thou hast not this chain for nothing. Men of worth have their
chimeras, as well as other creatures; and they do see monsters
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