"Well," cried Imogen,
"you have borne my message to my deliverer, now then let me go." "Our
lord," replied the attendant, "is just risen. He will but adjust his
apparel, and will immediately pay you those respects in person which he
can by no means think of omitting." "Alas, alas," cried the shepherdess,
half distressed, "what is the meaning of all this? What is intended by a
language so foreign to the homeliness of the shepherd's cot, and the
admirable simplicity of pastoral life? I know not what title I have, a
poor, unpretending virgin, to the respects of this lord; but surely if
they meaned me well, they would be less hollow and absurd. Would there
not be much more respect, much more civility, in permitting me to follow
my own inclinations, without this arbitrary and ungrateful restraint?"
"Shepherdess," replied the attendant, "we are not used to dispute the
orders of our master. We would oblige you if it were in our power.
Impute not therefore to us any thing unfriendly; and as for Roderic, he
is too good, and too amiable, not to be able to satisfy you about his
conduct the moment he appears." "Your master! and your lord!" replied
Imogen, with a tone of displeasure, "I understand not these words. The
Gods have made all their rational creatures equal.
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