Monologue

Leath Monologue from Bartholomew Fair

From Bartholomew Fair by Ben Jonson

male · sarcastic · 27 sec

The Fair's pestilence dead methinks; people come not abroad to-day, whatever the matter is. Do you hear, sister Trash, lady of the basket? sit farther with your gingerbread progeny there, and hinder not the prospect of my shop, or I'll have it proclaimed in the Fair, what stuff they are made on.

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