Art thou content?”—
If Richard had replied,
“I am,” his manner had his words belied.
Even from his Brother’s cheerfulness he drew
Something to vex him—what, he scarcely knew;
So he evading said, “My evil fate 340
Upon my comforts throws a gloom of late:
Matilda writes not; and, when last she wrote,
I read no letter—’twas a trader’s note—
‘Yours I received,’ and all that formal prate