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No; why should I withhold it from thine eye; For still the sweet expressions from her pen Excel the beauty of its characters. (Gives it to him.) Thou art in tears, sweet Alice; has thy mind Some boding apprehensions for her safety?

No, God forbid! I have a feeble body, The worn-out case of a more feeble mind, And oft will weep for nothing. Heed me not.

No, say not so: thy mind and body both Are lovely yoke-fellows, and will together— God grant it be so! hold their prosperous course For many years. (Seeing her endeavours to speak.) Strive not to answer me; This wish, though most sincere, deserves no thanks.

Come, honour'd guests, the first dish of our meal,