someone who had a greater claim on your time than the poor exile ..." "Nay! 'tis unkind thus to grieve me," she said with tender reproach as she felt the hot tears gather in her eyes.

"You know--as I do--that I am not my own mistress yet." "Yes! yes! forgive me--my gracious, sweet, sweet lady....

I am mad when you are not nigh me....

You do not know--how could you?
...

what torments I endure, when I think of you so beautiful, so exquisite, so adorable, surrounded by other men who admire you ...