LXXXVIII

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LXXXVIII

“Jostling my way I gain’d the stairs, and ran

To the first landing, where, incredible!

I met, far gone in liquor, that old man,

That vile impostor Hum,⁠⸺’

So far so well,⁠—

For we have proved the Mago never fell

Down stairs on Crafticanto’s evidence;

And therefore duly shall proceed to tell,

Plain in our own original mood and tense,

The sequel of this day, though labour ’tis immense!