Alas! says he to himself, can
any one be capable of insulting such charms? Where is the unfeeling
wretch, the barbarous man to be found who will not feel touched by
such tears? He endeavours to stop those beautiful tears, and the
lovely shepherdess takes the opportunity of thanking him for the
slight service he has rendered her. But she does it in a manner so
touching, so tender, and so passionate that the shepherd cannot resist
it, and each word, each look is a burning shaft which penetrates his
heart. Is there anything in the world worthy of such thanks? and what
will not one do, what service and what danger will not one be
delighted to run to attract upon oneself even for a moment the
touching sweetness of so grateful a heart? The whole play was acted
without his paying any more attention to it; yet he complains that it
was too short, since the end separates him from his lovely
shepherdess. From that moment, from that first sight, he carries away
with him a love which has the strength of a passion of many years. He
now feels all the pangs of absence, and is tormented in no longer
seeing what he beheld for so short a time. He tries every means to
meet again with a sight so dear to him, and the remembrance of which
pursues him day and night. But the great watch which is kept over his
shepherdess deprives him of all the power of doing so.
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