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Section 868
Passage 1 of 2 · section 868 of 959
1Rom.
2There's thy Gold,
3Worse poyson to mens soules,
4Doing more murther in this loathsome world,
5Then these poore compounds that thou maiest not sell.
6I sell thee poyson, thou hast sold me none,
7Farewell, buy food, and get thy selfe in flesh.
8Come Cordiall, and not poyson, go with me