She was not deceived in this conjecture. It was
indeed Lorenzo himself, who bound by his word not to present
himself to Antonia without his Uncle's consent, endeavoured by
occasional Serenades, to convince his Mistress that his
attachment still existed. His stratagem had not the desired
effect. Antonia was far from supposing that this nightly music
was intended as a compliment to her: She was too modest to think
herself worthy such attentions; and concluding them to be
addressed to some neighbouring Lady, She grieved to find that
they were offered by Lorenzo.
The air which was played, was plaintive and melodious. It
accorded with the state of Antonia's mind, and She listened with
pleasure. After a symphony of some length, it was succeeded by
the sound of voices, and Antonia distinguished the following
words.
SERENADE
Chorus
Oh! Breathe in gentle strain, my Lyre!
'Tis here that Beauty loves to rest:
Describe the pangs of fond desire,
Which rend a faithful Lover's breast.
Song
In every heart to find a Slave,
In every Soul to fix his reign,
In bonds to lead the wise and brave,
And make the Captives kiss his chain,
Such is the power of Love, and Oh!
I grieve so well Love's power to know.
In sighs to pass the live-long day,
To taste a short and broken sleep,
For one dear Object far away,
All others scorned, to watch and weep,
Such are the pains of Love, and Oh!
I grieve so well Love's pains to know!
To read consent in virgin eyes,
To press the lip ne'er prest till then
To hear the sigh of transport rise,
And kiss, and kiss, and kiss again,
Such are thy pleasures, Love, But Oh!
When shall my heart thy pleasures know?
Chorus
Now hush, my Lyre! My voice be still!
Sleep, gentle Maid! May fond desire
With amorous thoughts thy visions fill,
Though still my voice, and hushed my Lyre.
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