"That I deny," said the immortal dame,
"There is a guide,—Gad, I've forgot his name,—
Who lives in Heaven or Rome, the Lord knows where;
Had we but him, sweet-heart, we could not err.—
But hark ye, sister, this is but a whim,
For still we want a guide to find out him."
"Here, you see, I don't trouble myself to keep on the narration, but write White speaks, or Dapple speaks, by the side. But when I get any noble thought, which I envy a mouse should say, I clap it down in my own person, with a poeta loquitur; which, take notice, is a surer sign of a fine thing in my writings, than a hand in the margent anywhere else.—Well now, says White,
What need we find him? we have certain proof
That he is somewhere, dame, and that's enough;
For if there is a guide that knows the way,