Chapter 1636 of 1964 · 58 words · ~1 min read

VII.

But what's this to the purpose? you will say. Gent. reader, nothing; a mere speculation, For which my sole excuse is--'t is my way; Sometimes _with_ and sometimes without occasion, I write what's uppermost, without delay; This narrative is not meant for narration, But a mere airy and fantastic basis, To build up common things with common places.