innocent cause of much that I have gone through."

Sir Henry Delme started at the sight that greeted him. The room was
dimly lighted by a lamp, but the moon was up, and shed her full light
through part of the chamber. On a small French bed, whose silken linings
threw their rosy hue on the face of its fair occupant, lay as lovely a
girl as ever eye reposed on.

The heat had already commenced to become oppressive; the jalousies and
windows were thrown open. As the night breeze swept over the curtains,
and the tint these gave, trembled on that youthful beauty; Delme might
well be forgiven, for deeming it was very long since he had seen a
countenance so exquisitely lovely. The face did indeed bear the stamp of
youth. Delme would have guessed that the being before him, had barely
attained her fifteenth year, but that her bosom heaved like playful
billows, as she breathed her sighs in a profound slumber. Her style of
beauty for a girl was most rare. It had an almost infantine simplicity
of character, which in sleep was still more remarkable; for awake, those
eyes, now so still, did not throw unmeaning glances.

Such as these must Guarini have apostrophised, as he looked at his
slumbering love.

"Occhi! stelle mortale!
Ministri de miei mali!
Se chiusi m'uccidete,
Aperti,--che farete?"

Or, as Clarendon Gage translated it.