LXXVIII.

The moment that you had pronounced him _one_, Presto! his face changed, and he was another; And when that change was hardly well put on, It varied, till I don't think his own mother (If that he had a mother) would her son Have known, he shifted so from one to t'other; Till guessing from a pleasure grew a task,[hl] At this epistolary "Iron Mask."[540]