[34]
twice twelve months are pass'd and gone, thou mayest grow out like a pumkin, and lose thy shapes—or, thou mayest go off like a flower, and lose thy beauty—nay, thou mayest go off like a hussy—and lose thyself.—I would not answer for my aunt Dinah, was she alive—'faith, scarce for her picture—were it but painted by Reynolds—
—But if I go on with my drawing, after naming that son of Apollo, I'll be shot———
So you must e'en be content with the original; which if the evening is fine in passing thro' Montreuil, you will see at your chaise door, as you change horses: but unless you have as bad a reason for haste as I have—you had better stop:——She
