volume03
VOLUME III
CHAPTER I
The crickets sing, and Man's o'er-laboured sense Repairs itself by rest: Our Tarquin thus Did softly press the rushes, ere He wakened The chastity He wounded--Cytherea, How bravely thou becom'st thy bed! Fresh Lily! And whiter than the sheets! Cymbeline.
All the researches of the Marquis de las Cisternas proved vain: Agnes was lost to him for ever. Despair produced so violent an effect upon his constitution, that ...