Harper, are you envious of the old fool?
Go! Hug the rat who stole your last crumbs,
And gnawed the hole in your life which made time wonder
Who it was saved labour for him the next score of years.
We allowed them life for their labour—they haggled.
Food they must have, and (god of laughter!) even ease;
But mud and lice and Jews are very busy
Breeding plagues in ease.
[_The Minstrel pulls his beard and robe off._]