Act iv. Sc. 2.
Steeped me in poverty to the very lips.
Act iv. Sc. 2.
But, alas! to make me
A fixed figure, for the time of scorn
To point his slow, unmovin finger at.
Act iv. Sc. 2.
And put in every honest hand a whip,
To lash the rascal naked through the world.
Act iv. Sc. 3.
'Tis neither here nor there.