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(exit.)

Than obey that old maid in breeches, With his envy, spite, and fine speeches; Such a vain fool, unprincipled ass; I'd most at this Inn door be a bass, For the use of servile footmen's feet, Besmeared with the filth of every street.— Fine names! "Ewe-necked, staring, Procu'tor," Forooth!—Box, and Interlocutor, I'll remember for that! The rascal! Thus to abuse the honest fiscal.— I think I smell the cheese for supper! Better, than walk, sit on the crupper; I hear like chops broiling on the fire! If the scrub is returned, with his squire, The cheese mite, with the long punch soker, The slender tongs, with the straight poker; I'll try to meet them, as if by chance, And regale myself at their expence, Whilst they laugh at the Interlocutor.— Scoundrel! "Ewe-necked, staring, Procu’tor." (exit.)