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'T is delicacy makes me thus in haste, As thou wilt comprehend. Should time permit, Though much I fear to-morrow's sun will light us To other scenes, I will return and pay To the most noble Count all courtesy. The Count, as I am told, dislikes this castle: His stay, perhaps, may be of short duration?

Belike it may.

Though quitting this vicinity, My station for a time will not be distant. Couldst thou in such a case indite to me A little note of favour? (Taking her hand.) Pretty hand! A billet penn'd by thee must needs contain Words of sweet import.—Fingers light and slender! (Offering to put on a ring.) Let this be favour'd.

Nay, my Lord, excuse me. The pen these fingers use indites no billets Of such sweet import as you fondly guess: A housewife's recipe, or homely letter Of kind inquiry to some absent friend,