Chapter 1234 of 1964 · 58 words · ~1 min read

LX.

Her next amusement was more fanciful; She smiled at mad Suwarrow's rhymes, who threw Into a Russian couplet rather dull The whole gazette of thousands whom he slew: Her third was feminine enough to annul The shudder which runs naturally through Our veins, when things called Sovereigns think it best To kill, and Generals turn it into jest.