In the meantime came Cyrus to beg one farthing of him for the honour of Mercury, therewith to buy a few onions for his supper.

No, no, said Epictetus, I do not use in my almsgiving to bestow farthings.
Hold, thou varlet, there's a crown for thee; be an honest man.

Cyrus was exceeding glad to have met with such a booty; but the other poor rogues, the kings that are there below, as Alexander, Darius, and others, stole it away from him by night.

I saw Pathelin, the treasurer of Rhadamanthus, who, in cheapening the pudding-pies that Pope Julius cried, asked him how much a dozen.

Three blanks, said the Pope.