he hour, that
gave Raymond another hope than love, another wish than my devotion; and
thrice joyful the moment when he shall be restored to me! God knows, I put
my trust in his vows, and believe his asserted faith--but for that, I
would not seek what I am now resolved to attain. Shall two years more be
thus passed, each day adding to our alienation, each act being another
stone piled on the barrier which separates us? No, my Raymond, my only
beloved, sole possession of Perdita! This night, this splendid assembly,
these sumptuous apartments, and this adornment of your tearful girl, are
all united to celebrate your abdication. Once for me, you relinquished the
prospect of a crown. That was in days of early love, when I could only hold
out the hope, not the assurance of happiness. Now you have the experience
of all that I can give, the heart's devotion, taintless love, and
unhesitating subjection to you. You must choose between these and your
protectorate. This, proud noble, is your last night! Perdita has bestowed
on it all of magnificent and dazzling that your heart best loves--but,
from these gorgeous rooms, from this princely attendance, from power and
elevation, you must return with to-morrow's sun to our rural abode; for I
would not buy an immortality of joy, by the endurance of one more week
sister to the last.

Brooding over this plan, resolved when the hour should come, to propose,
and insist upon its accomplishment, secure of his consent, the heart of
Perdita was lightened, or rather exalted. Her cheek was flushed by the
expectation of struggle; her eyes sparkled with the hope of triumph. Having
cast her fate upon a die, and feeling secure of winning, she, whom I have
named as bearing the stamp of queen of nations on her noble brow, now rose
superior to humanity, and seemed in calm power, to arrest with her finger,
the wheel of destiny. She had never before looked so supremely lovely.

We, the Arcadian shepherds of the tale, had intended to be present at this
festivity, but Perdita wrote to entreat us not to come, or to absent
ourselves from Windsor; for she (though she did not reveal her scheme to
us) resolved the next morning to return with Raymond to our dear circle,
there to renew a course of life in which she had found entire felicity.
Late in the evening she entered the apartments appropriated to the
festival. Raymond had quitted the palace the night before; he had promised
to grace the assembly, but he had