However, this is still endurable.
But when a paltry fishfag will look big,
Cast down his eyes affectedly, or bend
His eyebrows upwards like a fullstrained bow,
I burst with rage. Demand what price he asks
For—say two mullets; and he answers straight
“Ten obols”—“Ten? That’s dear: will you take eight?”
“Yes, if one fish will serve you.”—“Friend, no jokes;
I am no subject for your mirth.”—“Pass on, Sir!
And buy elsewhere.”—Now tell me is not this