And then my lord has much that he would state, All good to you—do clear that clouded face, And with good looks your lucky lot embrace. 630 “Now, mind that none with her divide your heart, For she would die ere lose the smallest part; And I rejoice that all has gone so well, For who th’ effect of Johnson’s rage can tell? He had his fears when you began to meet, But I assured him there was no deceit. He is a man who kindness will requite, But, injured once, revenge is his delight; And he would spend the best of his estates To ruin, goods and body, them he hates; 640 While he is kind enough when he approves A deed that’s done, and serves the man he loves. Come, read your letters—I must now be gone, And think of matters that are coming on.” Henry was lost—his brain confused, his soul Dismay’d and sunk, his thoughts beyond control; Borne on by terror, he foreboding read Cecilia’s letter! and his courage fled; All was a gloomy, dark, and dreadful view, He felt him guilty, but indignant too:— 650 And as he read, he felt the high disdain Of injured men—“She may repent, in vain.” Cecilia much had heard, and told him all That scandal taught—“A servant at the hall, Or servant’s daughter, in the kitchen bred, Whose father would not with her mother wed, Was now his choice! a blushing fool, the toy, Or the attempted, both of man and boy; More than suspected, but without the wit Or the allurements for such creatures fit; 660 Not virtuous, though unfeeling; cold as ice, And yet not chaste; the weeping fool of vice; Yielding, not tender; feeble, not refined; Her form insipid, and without a mind. “Rival! she spurn’d the word; but let him stay, Warn’d as he was, beyond the present day: Whate’er his patron might object to this, The uncle-butler, or the weeping miss— Let him from this one single day remain, And then return he would to her in vain! 670 There let him then abide, to earn, or crave Food undeserved, and be with slaves a slave!” Had reason guided anger, govern’d zeal, Or chosen words to make a lover feel, She might have saved him—anger and abuse Will but defiance and revenge produce. “Unjust and cruel, insolent and proud!” He said, indignant; and he spoke aloud. “‘Butler’! and ‘servant’! Gentlest of thy sex, Thou wouldst not thus a man who loved thee vex; 680 Thou wouldst not thus to vile report give ear, } Nor thus enraged for fancied crimes appear— } I know not what, dear maid!—if thy soft smiles were here.” } And then, that instant, there appear’d the maid, By his sad looks in her approach dismay’d; Such timid sweetness, and so wrong’d, did more Than all her pleading tenderness before. In that weak moment, when disdain and pride, And fear and fondness, drew the man aside, In this weak moment—“Wilt thou,” he began, 690