dress; and I have already many things to reproach myself with since I have been here."
As the Prince's natural voice possessed a thousand charms, and as, even if he could not have sung so well, the Princess was so prepossessed in his favour she would not have been less pleased to hear him, she often asked him to sing some little songs; and what he sang was so tender, and his accents so touching, she could not break herself of the desire to listen to him. He had written some words, that he repeated incessantly, she being fully aware that she was the subject of them. They are as follow:—
"If a goddess found could be
Who in beauty equall'd thee,
Would she give, my love to win,
All the wealth the world within,
I with scorn would her deny,
At thy feet to live and die."
Although she pretended she paid no more attention to that than she did to others, she could not help evincing a preference for it which gratified the Prince. That inspired him with a little more boldness; he purposely repaired to a part of the river-side, shaded by willows and lote-trees,[1] where he knew Carpillon led her lambs every day: he took a bodkin and he wrote upon the bark of a tree,—
"In this spot I view in vain,
Peace with all the Pleasures reign;
Even here, Love robs my breast
Both of happiness and rest."
The Princess surprised him as he finished these words; he affected to be embarrassed, and after some moments of silence, "You see," said he to her, "an unhappy shepherd, who reveals to the most insensible things, the sufferings which he ought to complain of to you only." She did not answer, and casting down her eyes, she afforded him all the time he needed to declare his sentiments. While he was speaking, she considered within herself how she ought to receive that which she heard from lips that were not indifferent to her, and her liking for him readily found an excuse—"He is ignorant of my birth," said she; "his temerity is pardonable; he loves me, and thinks not that I am his superior. Even if he knew my rank, the gods, who are so high above us, do they not
- ↑ Alisiers. See note, page 28.
