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Rh “This tale of thine, and I may reap, “Perchance, from this the boon of sleep, “For at this moment from my eyes “The hope of present slumber flies.”

“Well, sire, with such a hope, I’ll track “My seventy years of memory back: “I think ’twas in my twentieth spring,— “Ay, ’twas,—when Casimir was king— “John Casimir,—I was his page “Six summers in my earlier age; “A learned monarch, faith! was he, “And most unlike your majesty: “He made no wars, and did not gain “New realms to lose them back again; “And (save debates in Warsaw’s diet) “He reign’d in most unseemly quiet; “Not that he had no cares to vex, “He loved the muses and the sex; “And sometimes these so froward are, “They made him wish himself at war; “But soon his wrath being o’er, he took “Another mistress, or new book: