XVII

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XVII

“Nurse, ’tis so close I cannot rest.

Open the window⁠—sit by me.”

“What ails thee, dear?”⁠—“I feel depressed.

Relate some ancient history.”

“But which, my dear?⁠—In days of yore

Within my memory I bore

Many an ancient legend which

In monsters and fair dames was rich;

But now my mind is desolate,

What once I knew is clean forgot⁠—

Alas! how wretched now my lot!”

“But tell me, nurse, can you relate

The days which to your youth belong?

Were you in love when you were young?”⁠—