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The Sultan's work within these walls perform Better than armed men.

And what is that, I pray?

Why, more gold still. I have in pay, besides our mutinous rabble, Who bawl, and prate, and murmur in our streets, Prophets, and conjurers, and vision seers, And wise men not a few, whose secret haunts The timid flock to: many are the palms That must be touch'd.—There are within our walls Of idle, slothful citizens, enow, If with their active master they should join, Still to defend them: therefore, be assur'd, He who shall keep this fickle, wav'ring herd From such wise union, shall to Mah'met give This Mistress of the East.

Fear not; thou shalt be satisfied.

Right: let us now to work: 'tis near the time When, from the walls returning with his friends, The Emperor his ev'ning hour enjoys, And puts off warlike cares: now let us forth, And urge those varlets on. (To Marthon.) Do thou into the eastern quarter go,