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 * 'Ulysses thus, on leaving fair Penelope…'

Not that one!…


 * 'The gold-locked Phœbus…'

Nay, nor that one!… [Same play.]

What are you dallying for?

Here! here! here! [He chooses a third, resignedly.] The sonnet to Phillis!… but 'tis hard to part with it!

By good luck! he has made up his mind at last! [Shrugging her shoulders.] Nicodemus!

Hist! children!… Render me back the sonnet to Phillis, and you shall have six pies instead of three. [The give him back the bag, seize the