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complained, so melodiously expressed, could not refrain from taking up his hautboy. She continued, and accompanied her sweet voice.
Never was unison more harmonious. Is this an enchantment? said Adelaide. May I believe my sense? 'Tis no mean shepherd! 'tis some supernatural being that I have been listening to! Nature may give a bent, but great masters and constant practice only can reach to such perfection. As she was thus musing, the valley resounded with a rural or rather a divinc symphony. Adelaide imagined she saw realized these prodigies, which poetry attributes to music, her brilliant sister. Astonished and confused, she could not determine whether to approach or retire. Music was a gift from heaven bcstowed on man in that state of innoeence, it is the purest of all pleasures, and the only one that I can yield to. I look upon this shepherd as an echo that comes to repeat my grief.
Alas! said she, I give myself up too easily to the little comfort I felt: I am deprived of it for my punishment. One day they met, as if by chance, Shepherd, said she, do you lead your flocks to any great distance? Thcse words uttered from her sweet lips, caused in Fonrose's heart such an emotion as almost deprived him of his voice. I cannot tell, replied he; with hesitation; 'tis not I that lead my sheep, 'tis my sleep that lead me; they are better acquainted than I am with thesc pastures, and I let them range wherever they please to go. From whence come you? said Adelaide. I was born on the other side of the Alps. And were you brought up to a shepherd's life? No doubt, since I am one, I was destined for it. That is what I scarce belicvc,
