XXIX

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XXIX

Philosophizing thus, he pull’d the check,

And bade the coachman wheel to such a street,

Who turning much his body, more his neck,

Louted full low, and hoarsely did him greet:

“Certes, Monsieur were best take to his feet,

Seeing his servant can no farther drive

For press of coaches, that to-night here meet,

Many as bees about a straw-capp’d hive,

When first for April honey into faint flowers they dive.”