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Say not dishonour; innocence is honour, And thou art innocent and therefore honourable, Though every slave and spearman of our train Had gazed upon thy face. The morning star Receives no taint for that a thousand eyes, All heavenward turn'd, admire its lovely brightness. Let me again look in thy dark soft eyes, And read my pardon in one beamy smile. Forbear, forbear! this is indignity.

And this, dear maid, is childish bashfulness. And look, the silly fence drops of itself; An omen of good fortune to my love. Oh! while those eyes are fixed upon the ground, Defended from too ardent admiration, With patience hear my suit.—Two rival chiefs Have look'd upon thy face, and thou perforce Must choose or one or other for thy husband. Rasinga, in his rich and noble mansion, Hath years already pass'd in wedded love; And is the husband of a virtuous dame, Whose faithful heart, in giving place to thee,