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So, the little lady grew silent and thin, Paling and ever paling, As the way is with a hid chagrin; {210} And the Duke perceived that she was ailing, And said in his heart, “‘Tis done to spite me, But I shall find in my power to right me!” Don’t swear, friend! The old one, many a year, Is in hell; and the Duke’s self. . .you shall hear.