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And pardon me again; that may be possible; Yet would I rather hear thy cheerful voice Bidding me a good morrow, faith and truth! Than all her wit and wisdom, were she learn'd As Gottenburgh professor.

Fy on thee, Claudien! Would'st thou then insinuate That I am not thy reasonable choice, But one that has been fasten'd on thy fancy By spells of witchcraft?

Thou hast it, love; by very spells of witchcraft; For how could that be reasonable choice Which no deliberation knew. Thy countenance, Such as it is—thy joyous playful countenance, I look'd upon, and look'd upon again, Till I became a fascinated thing, As helpless as an infant.

Alas, poor child! this was a sudden change.

Nay, I am wrong; it was not quite so sudden; For after I had seen thy face, I waited— Waited with eager ears to hear thy voice, And then I watch'd thee to observe thy movements.