English Satires
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Chapter 11 11

Next him in Dance came Covetyce,

Root of all evil, and ground of vice,

That never could be content:

Catives, wretches, and ockeraris,[129]

Hudpikes,[130] hoarders, gatheraris,

All with that warlock went:

Out of their throats they shot on other

Het, molten gold, me thocht, a futher[131]

As fire-flaucht maist fervent;

Aye a

            
            

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