The greatest art has been produced for money, at that. You don't imagine that Signor Buonarotti spent his time lying 65 feet up on his back at the top of all that scaffolding, at serious danger to his life and safety, because he so loved looking closely at chapel ceilings, do you? Or that Will would have spent all that time reworking old stories into new plays at breakneck speed to keep the audiences coming if the Burbages hadn't given him a groat or two for doing it?

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