Chapter 135 of 1964 · 63 words · ~1 min read

CXX.

Here my chaste Muse a liberty must take-- Start not! still chaster reader--she'll be nice hence- Forward, and there is no great cause to quake; This liberty is a poetic licence, Which some irregularity may make In the design, and as I have a high sense Of Aristotle and the Rules, 't is fit To beg his pardon when I err a bit.