Time was,
when matrons went bare-foot with dishevel'd hair, pure minds, and
pray'd him to send rain, and forthwith it rained pitcher-fulls, or
then or never, and every one was pleased: Now the gods are no better
than mice; as they tread, their feet are wrapt in wooll; and because
ye are not superstitious your lands yield nothing."
"More civilly, I beseech ye," said Echion the hundred-constable; "it
is one while this way, and another while that, said the country-man
when he lost his speckled hogg: What is not to day may be to morrow;
and thus is life hurried about, so help me Hercules, a country is said
not to be the better that it has many people in it, tho' ours at
present labours under that difficulty, but it is no fault of hers: We
must not be so nice, Heaven is equally distant every where; were you
in another place you'd say hoggs walked here ready dress'd: And now I
think on't, we shall have an excellent show these holy-days, a
fencing-prize exhibited to the people; not of slaves bought for that
purpose, but most of them freemen. Our patron Titus has a large soul,
but a very devil in his drink, and cares not a straw which side gets
the better: I think I should know him, for I belong to him; he's of a
right breed both by father and mother, no mongril. They are well
provided with weapons, and will fight it out to the last: the theatre
will look like a butchers shambles, and he has where-withal to do it;
his father left him a vast sum, and let him make ducks and drakes with
it never so much, the Estate will bear it, and he always carries the
reputation of it.
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