I say not that you love me yet; happily, the fancy may be roused long before the heart is touched.
But it has been my fate to fascinate your eye, to influence your imagination.

It is to warn you against what could bring you but sorrow, as I warned you once to prepare for sorrow itself, that I am now your guest.

The Englishman, Glyndon, loves thee well,--better, perhaps, than I can ever love; if not worthy of thee, yet, he has but to know thee more to deserve thee better.

He may wed thee, he may bear thee to his own free and happy land,--the land of thy mother's kin.

Forget me; teach thyself to return and deserve his love; and I tell thee that thou wilt be honoured and be happy." Viola listened with silent, inexpressible emotion, and burning blushes, to this strange address, and when he had concluded, she covered her face with her hands, and wept.