We will now suppose it Wednesday, all sunshine and holidayism. The town overflowed with the human tide, but it was somewhat muddy: the million is the better of being filtered.
Ha' not you seen, Camillo? / (But that's past doubt; you have, or your eye-glass / Is thicker than a cuckold's horn)
For whatsoever hath bene writ of auncient tyme in greeke / By sundry men dispersedly, and in the latin eeke...
And also the lay fee, sometime the noble and sometime the commons, without difference, upon chance and displeasure grown, or of truth forsought and feigned, he doth impoverish, destroy, and kill, for none other intent but that he may enjoy and use his foul pleasures […]
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