The general arose from his seat, and, with a countenance of fervor, next to fierceness—­Let me tell you, Grandison, said he—­

I arose from mine, and going to Lady Sforza, who sat next him, he stopt, supposing me going to him, and seemed surprised, and attentive to my motions:  but, disregarding him, I addressed myself to that lady.  You, madam, are the aunt of Lady Clementina:  the tender, the indulgent mother is absent, and has declared, that she resigns her will to the will of her friends present—­Allow me to supplicate, that former measures may not be changed with her.  Great dawnings of returning reason did I discover in our last interview.  Her delicacy (never was there a more delicate mind) wanted but to be satisfied.  It was satisfied, and she began to be easy.  Were her mind but once composed, the sense she has of her duty, and what she owes to her religion, would restore her to your wishes:  but if she should be treated harshly, (though I am sure, if she should, it would be with the best intention,) Clementina will be lost.

The general sat down.  They all looked upon one another.  The two ladies dried their eyes.  The starting tear would accompany my fervor.  And then stepping to Jeronymo, who was extremely affected; My dear Jeronymo, said I, my friend, my beloved friend, cherish in your noble heart the memory of your Grandison:  would to God I could attend you to England!  We have baths there of sovereign efficacy.  The balm of a friendly and grateful heart would promote the cure.  I have urged it before.  Consider of it.

My Grandison, my dear Grandison, my friend, my preserver!  You are not going!—­

I am, my Jeronymo, and embraced him.  Love me in absence, as I shall you.

Chevalier, said the bishop, you don’t go?  We hope for your company at a small collation.—­We must not part with you yet.

I cannot, my lord, accept the favour.  Although I had given myself up to despair of obtaining the happiness to which I once aspired; yet I was not willing to quit a city that this family had made dear to me, with the precipitation of a man conscious of misbehaviour.  I thank you for the permission I had to attend you all in full assembly.  May God prosper you, my lord; and may you be invested with the first honours of that church which must be adorned by so worthy a heart!  It will be my glory, when I am in my native place, or wherever I am, to remember that I was once thought not unworthy of a rank in a family so respectable.  Let me, my lord, be entitled to your kind remembrance.

He pulled out his handkerchief.  My lord, said he, to his father; my Lord, to the general; Grandison must not go!—­and sat down with emotion.

Lady Sforza wept:  Laurana seemed moved:  the two young lords, Sebastiano and Juliano, were greatly affected.