Get. Remove me those Piles to Port Esquiline,
Fitter the place, my friend: you shall be paid.
1 Suitor. I thank your worship.
Get. Thank me when ye have it;
Thank me another way, ye are an Asse else.
I know my office: you are for the streets, Sir.
Lord, how ye throng! that knave has eaten Garlick;
Whip him, and bring him back.
3 Suitor. I beseech your Worship;
Here's an old reckoning for the dung and dirt, Sir.
Get. It stinks like thee: away. Yet let him tarry,
His Bill shall quit his Breath. Give your Petitions
In seemly sort, and keep your hat off, decently.
For scowring the water-courses thorow the Cities?
A fine periphrasis of a kennel-raker.
Did ye scour all, my friend? ye had some business:
Who shall scour you? you are to be paid, I take it,
When Surgeons swear you have perform'd your office.
4 Suit. Your Worship's merry.
Get. We must be sometimes wittie,
To nick a knave; 'tis as useful as our gravitie.
I'le take no more Petitions; I am pester'd;
Give me some rest.
4 Suit. I have brought the gold (and't please ye)
About the Place ye promised.
Get. See him enter'd.
How does your Daughter?
4 Suit. Better your worship thinks of her.