xcuse, if I were so silly to make it; but oh! my dear Sister! it was in
my Thoughts to deceive you; could I have concealed my Pain and
Sufferings, you should never have known them; but since I find it
impossible, and that I am too sincere to make use of Fraud in any thing,
'tis fit I tell you, from what cause my change of Colour proceeds, and
to own to you, I fear, 'tis Love, if ever therefore, oh gentle pitying
Maid! thou wert a Lover? If ever thy tender Heart were touch'd with that
Passion? Inform me, oh! inform me, of the nature of that cruel Disease,
and how thou found'st a Cure?'

While she was speaking these words, she threw her Arms about the Neck of
the fair _Katteriena_, and bath'd her Bosom (where she hid her Face)
with a shower of Tears; _Katteriena_, embracing her with all the
fondness of a dear Lover, told her, with a Sigh, that she could deny her
nothing, and therefore confess'd to her, she had been a Lover, and that
was the occasion of her being made a _Nun_, her Father finding out the
Intrigue, which fatally happened to be with his own Page, a Youth of
extraordinary Beauty. 'I was but Young, (said she) about Thirteen, and
knew not what to call the new-known Pleasure that I felt; when e're I
look'd upon the young _Arnaldo_, my Heart would heave, when e're he came
in view, and my disorder'd Breath came doubly from my Bosom; a Shivering
seiz'd me, and my Face grew wan; my Thought was at a stand, and Sense it
self, for that short moment, lost its Faculties; But when he touch'd me,
oh! no hunted Deer, tir'd with his flight, and just secur'd in Shades,
pants with a nimbler motion than my Heart; at first, I thought the Youth
had had some Magick Art, to make one faint and tremble at his touches;
but he himself, when I accus'd his Cruelty, told me, he had no Art, but
awful Passion, and vow'd that when I touch'd him, he was so; so
trembling, so surprized, so charm'd, so pleas'd. When he was present,
nothing could displease me, but when he parted from me; then 'twas
rather a soft silent Grief, that eas'd itself by sighing, and by hoping,
that some kind moment would restore my joy. When he was absent, nothing
could divert me, howe're I strove, howe're I toyl'd for Mirth; no Smile,
no Joy, dwelt in my Heart or Eyes; I could not feign, so very well I
lov'd, impatient in his absence, I would count the tedious parting
Hours, and pass them off like useless Visitants, whom we wish were gon;
these are the Hours, where Life