she was prevailed upon to go into the boat, and was followed by her
attendants.'

The next day, while the ship was unmooring, the whole beach was covered
with the inhabitants. The queen came down, and having ordered a double
canoe to be launched, was rowed off by her own people, followed by
fifteen or sixteen other canoes. She soon made her appearance on board,
but, not being able to speak, she sat down and gave vent to her passion
by weeping. Shortly after a breeze springing up, the ship made sail; and
finding it now necessary to return into her canoe, 'she embraced us
all,' says Captain Wallis, 'in the most affectionate manner, and with
many tears; all her attendants also expressed great sorrow at our
departure. In a few minutes she came into the bow of her canoe, where
she sat weeping with inconsolable sorrow. I gave her many things which I
thought would be of great use to her, and some for ornament; she
silently accepted of all, but took little notice of any thing. About ten
o'clock we had got without the reef, and a fresh breeze springing up,
our Indian friends, and particularly the queen, once more bade us
farewell, with such tenderness of affection and grief, as filled both my
heart and my eyes.'

The tender passion had certainly caught hold of one or both of these
worthies; and if her Majesty's language had been as well understood by
Captain Wallis, as that of Dido was to Æneas, when pressing him to stay
with her, there is no doubt it would have been found not less pathetic--

Nec te noster amor, nec te data dextera quondam,
Nec moritura tenet crudeli funere Dido?

This lady, however, did not sink, like the 'miserrima Dido,' under her