e if I allowed you to do the same
service for me. I might be overwhelmed by your too rapid descent on me.
Are you persuaded?"

"Persuaded is not the word, fair Hebe. I am ravished in an ecstacy of
admiration. Never was paradox so finely maintained. I might cavil and
contest it, but I prefer to keep silence to admire and adore."

"Thank you, dear Iolas, but I want no favour. Tell me how you could
disprove my argument?"

"I should attack it on the point of height. You know you would not let me
change your chemise even if I were a dwarf."

"Ah, dear Iolas! we cannot deceive each other. Would that Heaven had
destined me to be married to a man like you!"

"Alas! why am I not worthy of aspiring to such a position?"

I do not know where the conversation would have landed us, but just then
the countess came to tell us that dinner was waiting, adding that she was
glad to see we loved one another.

"Madly," said Clementine, "but we are discreet."

"If you are discreet, you cannot love madly."

"True, countess," said I, "for the madness of love and wisdom cannot
dwell together. I should rather say we are reasonable, for the mind may
be grave while the heart's gay."

We dined merrily together, then we played at cards, and in the evening we
finished reading the Pastor Fido. When we were discussing the beauties of
this delightful work Clementine asked me if the thirteenth book of the
"AEneid" was fine.

"My dear countess, it is quite worthless; and I only praised it to
flatter the descendant of the author. However, the same writer made a
poem on the tricks of countryfolk, which is by no means devoid of merit.
But you are sleepy, and I am preventing you from undressing."

"Not at all."

She took off her clothes in a moment with the greatest coolness, and did
not indulge my licentious gaze in the least. She got into bed, and I sat
beside her; whereupon she sat up again, and her sister turned her back
upon us. The Pastor Fido was on her night-table, and opening the book I
proceeded to read the passage where Mirtillo describes the sweetness of
the kiss Amaryllis had given him, attuning my voice to the sentiment of
the lines. Clementine seemed as much affected as I was, and I fastened my
lips on hers. What happiness! She drew in the balm of my lips with
delight, and appeared to be free from alarm, so I was about to clasp her
in my arms when she pushed me away with the utmost gentleness, begging me
to spare her.

This was