. She saluted them thrice in the Eastern fashion, and then
addressed herself to Antonia.

THE GYPSY

'Lady! gentle Lady! Know,
I your future fate can show;
Give your hand, and do not fear;
Lady! gentle Lady! hear!'

'Dearest Aunt!' said Antonia, 'Indulge me this once! Let me have my
fortune told me!'

'Nonsense, Child! She will tell you nothing but falsehoods.'

'No matter; Let me at least hear what She has to say. Do, my dear Aunt!
Oblige me, I beseech you!'

'Well, well! Antonia, since you are so bent upon the thing, ... Here,
good Woman, you shall see the hands of both of us. There is money for
you, and now let me hear my fortune.'

As She said this, She drew off her glove, and presented her hand; The
Gypsy looked at it for a moment, and then made this reply.

THE GYPSY

'Your fortune? You are now so old,
Good Dame, that 'tis already told:
Yet for your money, in a trice
I will repay you in advice.
Astonished at your childish vanity,
Your Friends all tax you with insanity,
And grieve to see you use your art
To catch some youthful Lover's heart.
Believe me, Dame, when all is done,
Your age will still be fifty one;
And Men will rarely take an hint
Of love, from two grey eyes that squint.
Take then my counsels; Lay aside
Your paint and patches, lust and pride,
And on the Poor those sums bestow,
Which now are spent on useless show.
Think on your Maker, not a Suitor;
Think on your past faults, not on future;
And think Time's Scythe will quickly mow
The few red hairs, which deck your brow.

The audience rang with laughter during the Gypsy's address; and--'fifty
one,'--'squinting eyes,' 'red hair,'--'paint and patches,' &c. were
bandied from mouth to mouth. Leonella was almost choaked with passion,
and loaded her malicious Adviser with the bitterest reproaches. The
swarthy Prophetess for some time listened to her with a contemptuous
smile: at length She made her a short answer, and then turned to
Antonia.

THE GYPSY

'Peace, Lady! What I said was true;
And now, my lovely Maid, to you;
Give me your hand, and let me see
Your future doom, and heaven's decree.'

In imitation of Leonella, Antonia drew off her glove, and presented her
white hand to the Gypsy, who having gazed upon it for some time with a
mingled expression of pity and astonishment, pronounced her Oracle in
the following words.

THE GYPSY

'Jesus! what a palm is there!