VII
“Show him a mouse’s tail, and he will guess,
With metaphysic swiftness, at the mouse;
Show him a garden, and with speed no less,
He’ll surmise sagely of a dwelling-house,
And plot, in the same minute, how to chouse
The owner out of it; show him a—” “Peace!
Peace! nor contrive thy mistress’ ire to rouse!”
Return’d the princess, “my tongue shall not cease
Till from this hated match I get a free release.