Coc. Wun’[66] a ball to scour—a scouring ball—a ball to be shaved!
Mul. For the love of God! talk not of shaving. I have been shaved—mischief and a thousand devils seize him!—I have been shaved! 31
[Exit Mulligrub.
Coc. The fox grows fat when he is cursed—I’ll shave ye smoother yet. Turd on a tile stone! my lips have a kind of rheum at this bole. I’ll have’t—I’ll gargalise my throat with this vintner, and when I have done with him, spit him out. I’ll shark! Conscience does not
repine. Were I to bite an honest gentleman, a poor grogaran poet, or a penurious parson that had but ten pigs’ tails in a twelvemonth, and, for want of learning, had but one good stool in a fortnight, I were damn’d beyond the works of supererogation; but to wring the withers of my gouty-barm’d spiggod-frigging jumbler of elements, Mulligrub, I hold it as lawful as sheep-shearing, taking eggs from hens, caudles from asses, or butter’d shrimps from horses—they make no use of them, were not provided for them. And, therefore, worshipful Cocledemoy, hang toasts! On, in grace and virtue to proceed, only beware, beware degrees. There be rounds in a ladder, and knots in a halter; ware carts, hang toasts, the common council has decreed it! I must draw a lot for the great goblet.
[Exit. 51
[62] Old eds. “Garnish.”
[63] Bond.
[64] Mulligrub is good as Antonio was good in Shylock’s eyes:—“My meaning in saying he is a good man is to have you understand that he is sufficient.”
[65] Partly gilt,—with part of the work gilt and part left ungilded.