See, cried she, the little reason you, have to speak in the praise of
love; for if pity be all you have to hope for from your, mistress, I am
afraid the consolation will be no way adequate to the misfortune.
Yet if you vouchsafe me that, replied he, kissing her hard, I never
shall complain. Me! interrupted she, pretending the utmost astonishment,
and drawing her chair somewhat farther from him. Yes, beautiful Louisa,
resumed he; it is you alone who have been capable of teaching me what
love truly is:--your eyes, at first sight, subdued my heart; but your
virtue has since made a conquest of my soul:--if I dare hope to make you
mine, it is only by such ways as heaven, and those who have the power of
disposing you, shall approve:--in the mean time I implore no more than
your permission to admire you, and to convince you, by all the
honourable services in my power to do you while you continue here, how
much my words are deficient to denote my meaning.
Louisa, now finding herself under a necessity of answering seriously,
told him, that if it were true that he had sentiments for her of the
nature he pretended, they would not only merit, but receive the most
grateful acknowledgments on her part; but at the same time she should be
sorry he had entertained them, and would wish him not to indulge a
prospect which could last no longer than while both remained in Venice,
and must infallibly vanish on their separation.
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