But give to have thee lie in state,
More than thou e’er paid’st there for meat.
What else?—their dead and useless load
They carry on the Turnpike road,
Paying—but they care nothing, they,
How many Gates there be to pay.—
Plague on the Gates! how thick they are!
Five pounds will soon be squander’d here.
Another—and another yet!
And Half-a-crown at every Gate;