XXI.

But to my story.—'Twas some years ago,

It may be thirty, forty, more or less,

The Carnival was at its height, and so

Were all kinds of buffoonery and dress;

A certain lady went to see the show,

Her real name I know not, nor can guess,

And so we'll call her Laura, if you please,

Because it slips into my verse with ease.

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