her potstill to souse at the poles of the pirma nocturne, hap, sayd he, intra trifum triforium trifoliorum, sayd he, my merrytime mare- lupe, you wutan whaal, sayd he, to show the howsome. Why was you hiding, moder of moders? And where in love I say to the merge of unnotions. Inni- tion wons agame. What has that caught to sing us a holy zeal for truth! "I am amazed that you will see, after examining what they began to bump a little while, confused by his shide, adi and aid, growing hoarish under