Nor could I tell him that his hopes were vain.
I scarce could think myself that they were vain.
XXXVII.
From this time onward no one check’d me more,
Attending Haydn. All the household heard
My sire “could trust his child to be discreet”;
And e’en Doretta too had something learn’d
That made her caution more than half relax.
Then days and weeks and months pass’d quickly by
In which, when Haydn’s prison’d love would start,