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you never go about to apply that sovereign balm
by which only my wounds are capable of being
cured? And is not this next to a demonstration
that you have no love for me?"
To this Rosamond, with blushes that rendered
her still more beautiful, replied---
“Your majesty is pleased to speak to me in
figures ; but I am a simple maid, and cannot un-
derstand you.
" Ah, Rosamond," said the king, "I know you
understand me well enough ; who is more blind
than those that will not see? But since you force
me to speak plainly, know it is your beauty that
has wounded me; and it is your charms make me
a eaptive. Love calls for love, nor can my wounds
be cured without enjoyment: if therefore you have
the regard for me your words seem to intimate,
shew that it is real, by admitting me to your em-
braces, and grant me the full fruition of your love."
Rosamond, extremly disordered at what the king
said, was going to kneel down, but he would not
suffer her, and said---
" Kneel not, dearest Rosamond ; it is I that
should kneel to thee--I only ask--"
Rosamond interrupting him, said--
" Ask for my life, great sire, and you shall have
it, or any thing that is in my power to give : but
ask not for my honour, that is so precious and va-
luable--I can never part with it but to a husband.
My outward form is but a casquet, virtue is the
jewel, and when that is gone, what worth is the
other."
The king was surprised to hear such words from
Rosamond, of whom he thought to make an easy
conquest, and was as much in love with her virtue
as he was with her beauty. But as he knew that
stones, by continual dropping of the water, wear
away, so he never doubted, but, with repeated
