XII.

He's dead—and upper earth with him has done;

He's buried; save the undertaker's bill,

Or lapidary scrawl, the world is gone

For him, unless he left a German will:[508]

But where's the proctor who will ask his son?

In whom his qualities are reigning still,[gl]

Except that household virtue, most uncommon,

Of constancy to a bad, ugly woman.

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