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204 The Iliad.

The first minister in Paris has his four meals a day!

'Twere courteous an' he sent you a few partridges!

And why not? with wine too!

A little Burgundy, Richelieu, si'il vous plait!

He could send it by one of his friars.

Ay! by His Eminence Joseph himself.

I am as ravenous as an ogre!

Eat your patience, then.

Always your pointed word!

Ay, pointed words! I would fain die thus, some soft summer eve, Making a pointed word for a good cause. —To make a soldier's end by soldier's sword,