I make no
doubt but he will be there every day he stays in town."
"So you don't know the street then where my Sophia is lodged?" cries
Jones.
"Indeed, sir, I do," says Partridge.
"What is the name of the street?" cries Jones.
"The name, sir? why, here, sir, just by," answered Partridge, "not
above a street or two off. I don't, indeed, know the very name; for,
as he never told me, if I had asked, you know, it might have put
some suspicion into his head. No, no, sir, let me alone for that. I am
too cunning for that, I promise you."
"Thou art most wonderfully cunning, indeed," replied Jones;
"however, I will write to my charmer, since I believe you will be
cunning enough to find him to-morrow at the alehouse."
And now, having dismissed the sagacious Partridge, Mr. Jones sat
himself down to write, in which employment we shall leave him for a
time. And here we put an end to the fifteenth book.
BOOK XVI
CONTAINING THE SPACE OF FIVE DAYS
Chapter 1
Of prologues
I have heard of a dramatic writer who used to say, he would rather
write a play than a prologue; in like manner, I think, I can with less
pains write one of the books of this history, than the prefatory
chapter to each of them.
To say the truth, I believe many a hearty curse hath been devoted on
the head of that author who first instituted the method of prefixing
to his play that portion of matter which is called the prologue; and
which at first was part of the piece itself, but of latter years
hath had usually so little connexion with the drama before which it
stands, that the prologue to one play might as well serve for any
other.
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