Your obedient servant,
S.B.
“You find not the apostrophes, and so miss the accent; let me supervise
the canzonet. Here are only numbers ratified; but for the elegancy,
facility, and golden cadence of poesy, _caret_ . . . _Imitari_ is
nothing. So doth the hound his master, the ape his keeper, the tired
horse his rider.”
Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act IV, S. 2.