Long ere his words her lover’s hopes convey’d,
They warm’d the bosom of the conscious maid;
One spirit seem’d each nature to inspire,
And the two hearts were fix’d in one desire.
“Now,” thought the courteous maid, “my father’s friend
Will ready pardon to my fault extend; 410
He shall no longer lead that hermit’s life,
But love his mistress in his nephew’s wife;
My humble duty shall his anger kill, }
And I who fled his love will meet his will, }