What do you say then; yes or no?
Of the whole of the income I stand possessed,
And I can’t be turn’d out of my mother’s nest,
For a Mother the Church has been to me,
And I was born for her fattest See.
I love my See, my wealthy See,
I scorn the idea of Simony;
But I must take care what I’m about,
Six thousand a-year and I’ll turn out.
My offer you had better take,