Out of my sight! I'll sit and make my will—
What, glad to go? stay, devils, and be still;
'Tis to your uncle's cot you wish to run,
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To learn to live at ease and be undone;
Him you can love, who lost his whole estate,
And I, who gain you fortunes, have your hate;
'Tis in my absence you yourselves enjoy:
Tom! are you glad to lose me? tell me, boy:
'Yes!' does he answer?"—"'Yes!' upon my soul;"