'Go, dear Vixen,' cried I, snatching her to my bosom; 'carry back to your master all that nourishes his remembrance. Go, dear Vixen, guard him by night, and accompany him by day, serve him with zeal, and love him with fidelity!'
I turned round, and perceived—Montmorenci! The poor timid girl bent her eyes to the ground.
'Yes, dear Vixen,' said he, 'you have now indeed a claim to my regard; and with the fondest gratitude will I cherish you!'
He then flew to me, and poured forth, at my feet, the most passionate acknowledgments, and tender protestations.
I tried to break from him.
'No, loveliest Cherubina!' said he, detaining me. 'Not thus must we part.'
'We must part for ever!' exclaimed I. 'After that rash soliloquy which you have just heard, never can I bear you in my sight. Besides, Sir, you are betrothed, at this moment, to another.'
'I? Ridiculous! But to whom?'
'Our hostess—a most charming woman.'
'Our hostess! Yes, a charming woman indeed. She has roses in her cheek, and lilies in her skin; but they are white roses, and orange lilies. Our hostess! Beshrew my heart, I would let cobwebs grow on my lips before I would kiss her.'