._ He could not have said that

_Morgana._ It would be much for the one to say that the balance was
even.

_Algernon._ But how if the absentee himself had been weighed against
another in that one's own balance?

_Morgana._ One to one promises at least more even weight

_Algernon._ I would not have it so. Pray, forgive me.

_Morgana._ Forgive you? For what?

_Algernon._ I wish to say, and I do not well know how, without seeming
to assume what I have no right to assume, and then I must have double
cause to ask your forgiveness.

_Morgana._ Shall I imagine what you wish to say, and say it for you?

_Algernon._ You would relieve me infinitely, if you imagine justly.

_Morgana._ You may begin by saying with Achilles,

My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirred;
And I myself see not the bottom of it.{1}

1 Troilus and Cressida, Act iii. Sc. 3.

_Algernon._ I think I do see it more clearly.

_Morgana._ You may next say, I live an enchanted life. I have been in
danger of breaking the spell; it has once more bound me with sevenfold
force; I was in danger of yielding to another attraction; I went a step
too far in all but declaring it; I do not know how to make a decent
retreat.

_Algernon._ Oh! no, no; nothing like that.

_Morgana._ Then there is a third thing you may say; but before I
say that for you, you must promise to make no reply, not even a
monosyllable; and not to revert to the subject for four times seven
days. You hesitate.

_Algernon._ It seems as if my fate were trembling in the balance.

Morgana, You must give me the promise I have asked for.

_Algernon._ I do give it.

_Morgana._ Repeat it then, word for word.

_Algernon._ To listen to you in silence; not to say a syllable in reply;
not to return to the subject for four times seven days.

_Morgana._ Then you may say, I have fallen in love; very
irrationally--(_he was about to exclaim, but she placed her finger on
her lips_)--very irrationally; but I cannot help it. I fear I must yield
to my destiny. I will try to free myself from all obstacles; I will, if
I can, offer my hand where I have given my heart. And this I will do, if
I ever do, at the end of four times seven days: if not then, never.

She placed her finger on her lips again, and immediately left the
room, having first pointed to a passage in the open pages of _Orlando
Innamorato_. She was gone before he was aware that she was going; but he
turned to