But it grows and grows, and in allegro
con fuoco on the voyage home, and only leaves a bar or two blank, when the thing it metaphorically represents is asleep and isn't suffering from the wind.
How would you like me to marry him, Allegro?"
These words we, looking back on his whole life, may fitly translate: " I am always the same John Milton, whether in Rome, Geneva, or London, whether I write Comus or Allegro
or Paradise Lost."