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my daughter, doubt not, good lord, when time has weaned her fears, she'll greet your love with love as pure, as warm as you could wish it."
In the gardens of the mansion, Lady Clifford contrived to leave her lovely daughter with the young Baron. She rose to follow her mother, but with a gentle force, he detained her.
"Fly me not, sweet Rosamond," he cried, "for I have much to tell you: come, sit ye down fair lady, and listen to me."
"My father will chide my stay—my mother too—."
"They will not chide but gladden at your staying; Oh! I have much to say, but that my speech grows lack whene'er I gaze upon thee, maiden."
"I pray, my Lord, you will disclose at once what is of such import to be uttered," cried Rosamond.
"Need I speak then, gentle lady? do not mine eyes speak for me?—I love you, Rosamond.—I come to lay my riches, and my trophies at thy feet and ask thy hand."
"Alas! my Lord, I am but a silly maid, unwohy of the honours that you proffer."
"Oh! say you'll be propitious to me!"
