Then, know, that those words which I last heard you say,
Have driv’n all at first that I told you away.
No matter what Cause, or what Lawyer, or Court,
Gold! Gold! my friend Hob, is of all the support:
With that, to each point of the compass we rove;
Without it, the devil a limb of us move!
Ev’ry hope that I had, with your money, is gone;
Your cause is a bad one, and you are undone.
To stand on you hav’n’t, as we say, a leg;
And no Lawyer, in England, for you’ll stir a peg.”