“He will tell you, when she heard of your departure—how her spirits deserted her——how her heart sicken’d——how piteously she mourned——how low she hung her head. O Diego! how many weary steps has my brother’s pity led me by the hand languishing to trace out yours; how far has desire carried me beyond strength——and how oft have I fainted by the way, and sunk into his arms, with only power to cry out—O my Diego!
“If the gentleness of your carriage has not belied your heart, you will fly to me, almost as fast as you fled from me—haste as you will——you will arrive but to see me expire.———’Tis a bitter draught, Diego, but oh! ’tis embitter’d still more by dying un————”
She could proceed no farther.
Slawkenbergius supposes the word intended was unconvinced, but her strength would not enable her to finish her letter.
The heart of the courteous Diego overflowed as he read the letter———he ordered his mule forthwith and Fernandez’s horse to be saddled; and as no vent in prose is equal to that of poetry in such conflicts——chance, which as often directs us to remedies as to diseases, having thrown a piece of charcoal into the window——Diego availed himself of it, and whilst the hostler was getting ready his mule, he eased his mind against the wall as follows.
ODE
Harsh and untuneful are the notes of love,
Unless my Julia strikes the key,
Her hand alone can touch the part,
Whose dulcet move-