Be some unconscionable overcharge
On my poor friends—a ruinous overcharge."—
"But, sir, were it made now, it would fill up
Each winter to the brim, and be to make
Twenty or thirty times, if you live long."—
"There! there it is! Nothing but imposition!
Even Time must rear his stern, unyielding front,
And holding out his shrivelled skeleton hand,
Demands my money. Naught but money! money!
Were I coin'd into money I could not