At length the Greek declared, with puzzled face, Some strange enchantment mingled in the case, And naught would serve to act as counter-charm Save a warm bracelet from a maiden's arm. Not every maiden's,--many might be tried; Which not in vain, experience must decide. Were there no damsels willing to attend And do such service for a suffering friend? The message passed among the waiting crowd, First in a whisper, then proclaimed aloud. Some wore no jewels; some were disinclined, For reasons better guessed at than defined; Though all were saints,--at least professed to be,-- The list all counted, there were named but three. The leech, still seated by the patient's side, Held his thin wrist, and watched him, eagle-eyed. Aurelia first, a fair-haired Tuscan girl, Slipped off her golden asp, with eyes of pearl. His solemn head the grave physician shook; The waxen features thanked her with a look. Olympia next, a creature half divine, Sprung from the blood of old Evander's line, Held her white arm, that wore a twisted chain Clasped with an opal-sheeny cymophane. In vain, O daughter I said the baffled Greek. The patient sighed the thanks he could not speak. Last, Hermia entered; look, that sudden start! The pallium heaves above his leaping heart; The beating pulse, the cheek's rekindled flame, Those quivering lips, the secret all proclaim. The deep disease long throbbing in the breast, The dread enchantment, all at once confessed! The case was plain; the treatment was begun; And Love soon cured the mischief he had done. Young Love, too oft thy treacherous bandage slips Down from the eyes it blinded to the lips! Ask not the Gods, O youth, for clearer sight, But the bold heart to plead thy cause aright. And thou, fair maiden, when thy lovers sigh, Suspect thy flattering ear, but trust thine eye; And learn this secret from the tale of old No love so true as love that dies untold. . . . . . . . . . . "Bravo, Annex!" they shouted, every one,-- "Not Mrs. Kemble's self had better done." "Quite so," she stammered in her awkward way,-- Not just the thing, but something she must say.