The melancholy strains which she hath heard
The Christian captives use.
Sa.’Tis a brain-sickness:
Miserable.
Za.And ever, when I have tried to cheer her,
Hath she rebuked me, as she is wont; but gently,
And bid me leave her: Then to meet her humour
I have gone, but made occasion to return,
Bringing such simple food as best she likes,
Freshly prepared to tempt her; and with tears