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you? Indefinable, unconquerable, unfathomable Incognita! Has any one presumed to give you a human genealogy? Are you not straight descended from the clouds? without even taking the time to change yourself first into a mortal? Explain, expound, unravel to me, in soft pity—"
Juliet solemnly entreated him to forbear any further interrogatory, assuring him that all enquiry gave her pain.
"Then shall 'the stars,'" cried he, "'fade away, the sun grow dim, and nature,'—like my poor old carcass!—'sink in years,' ere one grain more of the favourite attribute of our general mother shall be sown in my discourse! But you, in all things marvellous! You! have you really, and bona fide, so little in your composition of our naughty mamma, as not even to desire to know in what shape appeared to me the tattling little elf, that talked to me of Lord Denmeath?"
"You have not then, Sir, seen him?"
