247




25247.19.9
Harvard College
Library
VERI
TAS

FROM THE BEQUEST OF
Evert Jansen Wendell
ccccce
CLASS OF 1882
1918
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1





25247.19.9
Harvard College
Library
VERI
TAS
IS ccc

FROM THE BEQUEST OF
Evert Jansen Wendell
CLASS OF 1882
1918
cccccccccc's














อ
THE
HERMIT OF WARKWORTH,
AND
THE TWO CAPTAINS,
BY THE AUTHOR OF 'UNDINE,' 'ASLAUGA'S KNIGHTS,' ETC.

EDITED BY A LADY.
"Love, quiet, yet flowing deep, as the Rhine among rivers;
Lasting, and knowing not change- it walketh with Truth and Sincerity."
PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY.
BOSTON:
JORDAN AND WILEY, 121 WASHINGTON STREET.
MDCCCXLV.


25247119.9
HARVARD CO
TE LIBRARY
THE DEQUEST OF
VERT JANSEN WENDELL
1913
Percy, Imor
WRIGHT'S STEAM PRESS PRINT,
NO. 3 WATER STREET.
6
8687
50-103


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
PART THE FIRST.
DARK was the night, and wild the storm,
And loud the torrents roar;
And loud the sea was heard to dash
Against the distant shore.
Musing on man's weak, hapless state,
The lonely hermit lay;
When, lo!
heard a female voice
Lament in sore dismay.
With hospitable haste he rose,
And wak'd his sleeping fire;
And snatching up a lighted brand,
Forth hied the rev'rend sire.
All sad beneath a neighboring tree
A beauteous maid he found,
Who beat her breast, and with her tears
Bedew'd the mossy ground.


8
THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
"O weep not, lady, weep not so;
Nor let vain fears alarm;
My little cell shall shelter thee,
And keep thee safe from harm."
"It is not for myself I weep
Nor for myself I fear;
But for my dear and only friend,
Who lately left me here:
"And while some sheltering bower he sought
Within this lonely wood,
Ah! sore I fear his wandering feet
Have slipt in yonder flood."
"O! trust in heaven," the Hermit said,
"And to my cell repair;
Doubt not but I shall find thy friend,
And ease thee of thy care."
Then climbing up his rocky stairs,
He scales the cliff so high;
And calls aloud, and waves his light
To guide the stranger's eye.
Among the thickets long he winds,
With careful steps and slow :
At length a voice return'd his call,
Quick answering from below:


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
9
“O tell me, father, tell me true,
you
have chanc'd to see
A gentle maid, I lately left
Beneath some neighboring tree :
If
"But either I have lost the place,
Or she hath gone astray:
And much I fear this fatal stream
Hath snatch'd her hence away."
"Praise Heaven, my son," the Hermit said:
"The lady's safe and well: "
And soon he join'd the wandering youth,
And brought him to his cell.
Then well was seen, these gentle friends,
They lov'd each other dear:
The youth he press'd her to his heart;
The maid let fall a tear.
Ah! seldom had their host, I ween,
Beheld so sweet a pair :
The youth was tall with manly bloom;
She, slender, soft, and fair.
The youth was clad in forest green,
With bugle-horn so bright :
She in a silken robe and scarf,
Snatch'd up in hasty flight.


10
THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
"Sit down, my children," says the sage,
"Sweet rest your limbs require :"
Then heaps fresh fuel on the hearth,
And mends his little fire.
"Partake," he said, "my simple store,
Dried fruits, and milk, and curds ;"
And spreading all upon the board,
Invites with kindly words.
"Thanks, father, for thy bounteous fare,"
The youthful couple say :
Then freely ate, and made good cheer,
And talk'd their cares away.
"Now say, my children, (for perchance
My counsel may avail,)
What strange adventure brought you here
Within this lonely dale ?"
"First tell me, father," said the youth,
(Nor blame mine eager tongue,)
What town is near? What lands are these?
And to what lord belong?"
66
"Alas! my son," the Hermit said,
Why do I live to say,
The rightful lord of these domains
Is banish'd far away?
66


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
11
"Ten winters now have shed their snows
On this my lowly hall,
Since valiant Hotspur (so the North
Our youthful lord did call)
"Against Fourth Henry Bolingbroke
Led up his northern powers,
And, stoutly fighting, lost his life
Near proud Salopia's towers.
"One son he left, a lovely boy,
His country's hope and heir;
And, oh! to save him from his foes
It was his grandsire's care.
"In Scotland safe he plac'd the child
Beyond the reach of strife,
Nor long before the brave old Earl
At Braham lost his life.
"And now the Percy name, so long
Our northern pride and boast,
Lies hid alas! beneath a cloud;
Their honors reft and lost.
"No chieftain of that noble house
Now leads our youth to arms;
The bordering Scots despoil our fields,
And ravage all our farms.


12
THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
"Their halls and castles, once so fair,
Now moulder in decay;
Proud strangers now usurp their lands,
And bear their wealth away.
"Nor far from hence, where yon full stream
Runs winding down the lea,
Fair Warkworth lifts her lofty towers,
And overlooks the sea.
"Those towers, alas! now lie forlorn,
With noisome weeds o'erspread,
Where feasted lords and courtly dames,
And where the poor were fed.
"Meantime far off, 'mid Scottish hills,
The Percy lives unknown;
On strangers' bounty he depends,
And may not claim his own.
"O might I with these aged eyes,
But live to see him here,
Then should my soul depart in bliss!”—
He said, and dropt a tear.
"And is the Percy still so lov'd
Of all his friends and thee?
Then, bless me, father," said the youth,
"For I, thy guest, am he."


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
13
Silent he gaz'd, then turn'd aside
To wipe the tears he shed;
And lifting up his hands and eyes,
Pour'd blessings on his head :
"Welcome, our dear and much lov'd lord,
Thy country's hope and care:
But who may this young lady be,
That is so wondrous fair ?"
86
Now, father! listen to my tale,
And thou shalt know the truth:
And let thy sage advice direct
My inexperienc'd youth.
"In Scotland I've been nobly bred
Beneath the Regent's' hand,
In feats of arms, and every lore
To fit me for command.
"With fond impatience long I burn'd
My native land to see:
At length I won my guardian friend
To yield that boon to me.
"Then up and down in hunter's garb
I wander'd as in chase,
Till in the noble Neville's² house
I gain'd a hunter's place.
2


14
THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
"Some time with him I liv'd unknown,
Till I'd the hap so rare
To please this young and gentle dame,
That Baron's daughter fair."
"Now, Percy," said the blushing maid,
"The truth I must reveal;
Souls great and generous, like to thine,
Their noble deeds conceal.
"It happen'd on a summer's day,
Led by the fragrant breeze,
I wander'd forth to take the air
Among the green-wood trees.
"Sudden a band of rugged Scots,
That near in ambush lay,
Moss-troopers from the border-side,
There seiz'd me for their prey.
66
My shrieks had all been spent in vain;
But Heaven, that saw my grief,
Brought this brave youth within my call,
Who flew to my relief.
"With nothing but his hunting spear,
And dagger in his hand,
He sprung like lightning on my foes,
And caus'd them soon to stand.


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
15
"He fought till more assistance came :
The Scots were overthrown;
Thus freed me, captive, from their bands,
To make me more his own."
"O happy day!" the youth replied:
"Blest were the wounds I bear !
From that fond hour she deign'd to smile,
And listen to my prayer.
"And when she knew my name and birth,
She vow'd to be my bride;
But oh! we fear'd (alas, the while!)
Her princely mother's pride :
"Sister of haughty Bolingbroke,3
Our house's ancient foe,
To me, I thought, a banish'd wight,
Could ne'er such favor show.
"Despairing then to gain consent,
At length to fly with me
I won this lovely, timorous maid;
To Scotland bound are we.
"This evening, as the night drew on,
Fearing we were pursued,
We turn'd adown the right-hand path,
And gain'd this lonely wood:


16
THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
"Then lighting from our weary steeds
To shun the pelting shower,
We met thy kind conducting hand,
And reach'd this friendly bower."
"Now rest you both," the Hermit said;
"Awhile your cares forego:
Nor, Lady, scorn my humble bed :
-We'll pass the night below."4
PART THE SECOND
LOVELY smil'd the blushing morn,
And every storm was fled :
But lovelier far, with sweeter smile,
Fair Eleanor left her bed.
She found her Henry all alone,
And cheer'd him with her sight;
The youth consulting with his friend
Had watch'd the livelong night.
What sweet surprise o'erpowered her breast!
Her cheek what blushes dyed,
When fondly he besought her there
To yield to be his bride !—


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
17
"Within this lonely hermitage
There is a chapel meet :
Then grant, dear maid, my fond request,
And make my bliss complete."
"O Henry, when thou deign'st to sue,
Can I thy suit withstand?
When thou, lov'd youth, hast won my heart,
Can I refuse my hand?
"For thee I left a father's smiles,
And mother's tender care;
And whether weal or woe betide,
Thy lot I mean to share."
"And wilt thou then, O generous maid!
Such matchless favor show,
To share with me, a banish'd wight,
My peril, pain, or woe?
"Now Heaven, I trust, hath joys in store
To crown thy constant breast:
For know, fond hope assures my heart
That we shall soon be blest.
"Not far from hence stands Coquet Isle
Surrounded by the sea;
There dwells a holy friar, well known
To all thy friends and thee;
2*


18
WARKWORTH.
THE HERMIT OF
""Tis Father Bernard, so rever'd
For every worthy deed;
To Raby Castle he shall go,
And for us kindly plead.
"To fetch this good and holy man
Our reverend host is gone;
And soon, I trust, his pious hands
Will join us both in one."
Thus they in sweet and tender talk
The lingering hours beguile:
At length they see the hoary sage
Come from the neighboring isle.
With pious joy and wonder mix'd
He greets the noble pair,
And glad consents to join their hands
With many a fervent prayer.
Then strait to Raby's distant walls
He kindly wends his way:
Meantime in love and dalliance sweet
They spend the livelong day.
And now, attended by their host,
The Hermitage they view'd,
Deep-hewn within a craggy cliff,
And overhung with wood.


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
19
And near a flight of shapeless steps,
All cut with nicest skill,
And piercing through a stony arch,
Ran winding up the hill:
There deck'd with many a flower and herb
His little garden stands;
With fruitful trees in shady rows,
All planted by his hands.
Then, scooped within the solid rock,
Three sacred vaults he shows:
The chief, a chapel, neatly arch'd,
On branching columns rose.
Each proper ornament was there,
That should a chapel grace;
The lattice for confession framed,
And holy water vase.
O'er either door a sacred text
Invites to godly fear;
And in a little scutcheon hung
The cross, and crown, and spear.
Up to the altar's ample breadth
Two easy steps ascend;
And near, a glimmering, solemn light
Two well-wrought windows lend.


20
THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
Beside the altar rose a tomb
All in the living stone;
On which a young and beauteous maid
In goodly sculpture shone.
A kneeling angel, fairly carv'd,
Lean'd hovering o'er her breast;
A weeping warrior at her feet;
And near to these her crest.6
The clift, the vault, but chief the tomb,
Attract the wondering pair:
Eager they ask, "What hapless dame
Lies sculptur'd here so fair ?"
The Hermit sigh'd, the Hermit wept,
For sorrow scarce could speak:
At length he wip'd the trickling tears,
That all bedew'd his cheek.
"Alas! my children, human life
Is but a vale of woe;
And very mournful is the tale
Which ye so fain would know!"


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
21
THE HERMIT'S TALE.
YOUNG lord, thy grandsire had a friend
In days of youthful fame;
Yon distant hills were his domains,
Sir Bertram was his name.
Where'er the noble Percy fought,
His friend was at his side;
And many a skirmish with the Scots
Their early valor tried.
Young Bertram loved a beauteous maid,
As fair as fair might be ;
The dew-drop on the lily's cheek
Was not so fair as she.
Fair Widdrington the maiden's name,
Yon towers her dwelling-place ;7
Her sire an old Northumbrian chief,
Devoted to thy race.
Many a lord, and many a knight,
To this fair damsel came;
But Bertram was her only choice;
For him she felt a flame.


22
THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
Lord Percy pleaded for his friend,
Her father soon consents;
None but the beauteous maid herself
His wishes now prevents.
But she, with studied fond delays,
Defers the blissful hour;
And loves to try his constancy,
And prove her maiden power.
"That heart," she said, "is lightly príz'd,
Which is too lightly won;
And long shall rue that easy maid
Who yields her love too soon."
Lord Percy made a solemn feast
In Alnwick's princely hall;
And there came lords, and there came knights,
His chiefs and barons all.
With wassail, mirth, and revelry,
The castle rang around:
Lord Percy call'd for song and harp,
And pipes of martial sound.
The minstrels of thy noble house,
All clad in robes of blue,
With silver crescents on their arms,
Attend in order due.


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
23
And high heroic acts they tell,
Their perils past recall:
When, lo! a damsel young and fair
Stepp'd forward through the hall.
She Bertram courteously address'd;
And, kneeling on her knee,-
"Sir knight, the lady of thy love
Hath sent this gift to thee."
Then forth she drew a glittering helm,
Well plaited many a fold;
The casque was wrought of temper'd steel,
The crest of burnish'd gold.
"Sir knight, thy lady sends thee this,
And yields to be thy bride,
When thou hast prov'd this maiden gift
Where sharpest blows are tried."
Young Bertram took the shining helm,
And thrice he kiss'd the same:
"Trust me, I'll prove this precious casque
With deeds of noblest fame."
Lord Percy, and his barons bold,
Then fix upon a day
To scour the marches, late opprest,
And Scottish wrongs repay.


24
THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
The knights assembled on the hills
A thousand horse or more :
Brave Widdrington, though sunk in years,
The Percy standard bore.
Tweed's limpid current soon they pass,
And range the borders round:
Down the green slopes of Tiviotdale
Their bugle-horns resound.
As when a lion in his den
Hath heard the hunters' cries,
And rushes forth to meet his foes;
So did the Douglas rise.
Attendant on their chief's command
A thousand warriors wait:
And now the fatal hour drew on
Of cruel keen debate.
A chosen troop of Scottish youths
Advance before the rest;
Lord Percy mark'd their gallant mien,
And thus his friend address'd:
"Now, Bertram, prove thy lady's helm,
Attack yon forward band;
Dead or alive I'll rescue thee,
Or perish by their hand."


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
25
Young Bertram bow'd, with glad assent,
And spurr'd his eager steed,
And calling on his lady's name,
Rush'd forth with whirlwind speed.
As when a grove of sapling oaks
The livid lightning rends;
So fiercely 'mid the opposing ranks
Sir Bertram's sword descends.
This way and that he drives the steel,
And keenly pierces through;
And many a tall and comely knight
With furious force he slew.
Now closing fast on every side,
They hem Sir Bertram round:
But dauntless he repels their rage,
And deals forth many a wound.
The vigor of his single arm
Had well nigh won the field;
When ponderous fell a Scottish axe,
And clave his lifted shield.
Another blow his temples took,
And reft his helm in twain;
That beauteous helm, his lady's gift!
His blood bedew'd the plain.
3


26
THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
Lord Percy saw his champion fall
Amid th' unequal fight;
"And now, my noble friends," he said,
"Let's save this gallant knight."
Then rushing in, with stretch'd-out shield
He o'er the warrior hung,
As some fierce eagle spreads her wing
To guard her callow young.
Three times they strove to seize their prey,
Three times they quick retire:
What force could stand his furious strokes,
Or meet his martial fire ?
Now gathering round on every part
The battle rag'd amain;
And many a lady wept her lord,
That hour untimely slain.
Percy and Douglas, great in arms,
There all their courage show'd;
And all the field was strew'd with dead,
And all with crimson flow'd.
At length the glory of the day.
The Scots reluctant yield,
And, after wondrous valor shown,
They slowly quit the field.


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
27
All pale, extended on their shields,
And weltering in his gore,
Lord Percy's knights their bleeding friend
To Wark's fair castle bore.8
"Well hast thou earned my daughter's love,"
Her father kindly said;
"And she herself shall dress thy wounds,
And tend thee in thy bed."
A message went; no daughter came,
Fair Isabel ne'er appears;
"Beshrew me," said the aged chief,
'Young maidens have their fears.
66
"Cheer up, my son, thou shalt her see,
So soon as thou canst ride;
And she shall nurse thee in her bower,
And she shall be thy bride."
Sir Bertram at her name reviv'd,
He bless'd the soothing sound;
Fond hope supplied the nurse's care,
And heal'd his ghastly wound.


28
THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
PART THE THIRD.
ONE early morn, while dewy drops
Hung trembling on the tree,
Sir Bertram from his sick-bed rose;
His bride he would go see.
A brother he had in prime of youth,
Of courage firm and keen ;
And he would 'tend him on the way,
Because his wounds were green.
All day o'er moss and moor they rode,
By many a lonely tower;
And 'twas the dew-fall of the night
Ere they drew near her bower.
Most drear and dark the castle seem'd
That wont to shine so bright;
And long and loud Sir Bertram call'd
Ere he beheld a light.
At length her aged nurse arose,
With voice so shrill and clear,—
"What wight is this, that calls so loud,
And knocks so boldly here ?"


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
29
""Tis Bertram calls, thy lady's love,
Come from his bed of care :
All day I've ridden o'er moor and moss
To see thy lady fair."
"Now out, alas!" she loudly shriek'd;
"Alas! how may this be?
For six long days are gone and past
Since she set out to thee."
Sad terror seized Sir Bertram's heart,
And ready was he to fall;
When now the drawbridge was let down,
And gates were opened all.
"Six days, young knight, are past and gone,
Since she set out to thee;
And sure, if no sad harm had happ'd,
Long since they would'st her see.
"For when she heard thy grievous chance,
She tore her hair, and cried,
'Alas! I've slain the comeliest knight,
All through my folly and pride!
"And now to atone for my sad fault,
And his dear health regain,
I'll go myself, and nurse my love,
And soothe his bed of pain.'
3*


30
THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
"Then mounted she her milk-white steed
One morn at break of day;
And two tall yeomen went with her,
To guard her on the way."
Sad terror smote Sir Bertram's heart,
And grief o'erwhelm'd his mind:
"Trust me," said he, "I ne'er will rest
Till I thy lady find."
That night he spent in sorrow and care,
And with sad boding heart
Or ever the dawning of the day
His brother and he depart.
"Now, brother, we'll our ways divide,
O'er Scottish hills to range;
Do thou go north, and I'll go west;
And all our dress we'll change.
"Some Scottish carle hath seiz'd my love,
And borne her to his den;
And ne'er will I tread English ground
Till she's restor❜d again."
The brothers straight their paths divide,
O'er Scottish hills to range;
And hide themselves in quaint disguise,
And oft their dress they change.


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
31
Sir Bertram, clad in gown of grey,
Most like a palmer poor,
To halls and castles wanders round,
And begs from door to door.
Sometimes a minstrel's garb he wears,
With pipe so sweet and shrill;
And wends to every tower and town,
O'er every dale and hil!.
One day as he sat under a thorn,
All sunk in deep despair,
An aged pilgrim pass'd him by,
Who mark'd his face of care.
"All minstrels yet that e'er I saw
Are full of game and glee;
But thou art sad and woe-begone!
I marvel whence it be!"
"Father, I serve an aged lord,
Whose grief afflicts my mind;
His only child is stolen away,
And fain I would her find."
"Cheer up, my son; perchance," he said,
"Some tidings I may bear:
For oft when human hopes have failed,
Then heavenly comfort's near.


32
THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
“Behind yon hills
Down in a lowly glen,
There stands a castle fair and strong,
Far from the abode of men.
so steep and high,
"As late I chanc'd to crave an alms,
About this evening hour,
Methought I heard a lady's voice
Lamenting in the tower.
"And when I ask'd what harm had happ'd,
What lady sick there lay?
They rudely drove me from the gate,
And bade me wend away."
These tidings caught Sir Bertram's ear,
He thank'd him for his tale;
And soon he hasted o'er the hills,
And soon he reach'd the vale.
Then drawing near those lonely towers,
Which stood in dale so low,
And sitting down beside the gate,
His pipes he 'gan to blow.
"Sir Porter, is thy lord at home,
To hear a minstrel's song;
Or may I crave a lodging here,
Without offence or wrong?"


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
33
"My lord," he said, " is not at home,
To hear a minstrel's song;
And, should I lend thee lodging here,
My life would not be long."
He play'd again so soft a strain,
Such
power sweet sounds impart,
He won the churlish porter's ear,
And mov'd his stubborn heart.
"Minstrel," he said, "thou play'st so sweet,
Fair entrance thou should'st win,
But, alas! I'm sworn upon the rood
To let no stranger in.
"Yet, minstrel, in yon rising cliff
Thou'lt find a sheltering cave;
And here thou shalt my supper share,
And there thy lodging have."
All day he sits beside the gate,
And pipes both loud and clear:
All night he watches round the walls,
In hopes his love to hear.
The first night, as he silent watch'd
All at the midnight hour,
He plainly heard his lady's voice
Lamenting in the tower.


34
THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
The second night, the moon shone clear,
And gilt the spangled dew;
He saw his lady through the grate,
But 'twas a transient view.
The third night, wearied out, he slept
Till near the morning tide
When, starting up, he seiz'd his sword,
And to the castle hied.
When, lo! he saw a ladder of ropes
Depending from the wall;
And o'er the moat was newly laid
A poplar strong and tall.
And soon he saw his love descend,
Wrapt in a tartan plaid,
Assisted by a sturdy youth,
In Highland garb y-clad.
Amaz'd, confounded at the sight,
He lay unseen and still;
And soon he saw them cross the stream,
And mount the neighboring hill.
Unheard, unknown of all within,
The youthful couple fly;
But what can 'scape the lover's ken,
Or shun his piercing eye?


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
35
With silent step he follows close
Behind the flying pair,
And saw her hang upon
With fond familiar air.
66
"Thanks, gentle youth," she often said;
My thanks thou well hast won:
For me what wiles hast thou contriv'd!
For me what dangers run!
his arm
"And ever shall my grateful heart
Thy services repay:
Sir Bertram would no further hear,
But cried, "Vile traitor, stay!
99
"Vile traitor! yield that lady up!"
And quick his sword he drew;
The stranger turn'd in sudden rage,
And at Sir Bertram flew.
With mortal hate their vigorous arms
Gave many a vengeful blow;
But Bertram's stronger hand prevail'd,
And laid the stranger low.
"Die, traitor, die!"-A deadly thrust
Attends each furious word.
Ah! then fair Isabel knew his voice,
And rush'd beneath his sword.


36
THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
"O stop," she cried, "O stop thy arm!
Thou dost thy brother slay!"-
And here the hermit paus'd, and wept-
His tongue no more could say.
At length he cried, "Ye lovely pair,
How shall I tell the rest?
Ere I could stop my piercing sword,
It fell, and stabb'd her breast!"
"Wert thou thyself that hapless youth?
Ah! cruel fate!" they said.
The Hermit wept, and so did they:
They sigh'd; he hung his head.
"O blind and jealous rage," he cried,
(6 What evils from thee flow!"
The Hermit paus'd; they silent mourn'd:
He wept, and they were woe.
Ah, when I heard my brother's name,
And saw my lady bleed,
I rav'd, I wept, I curst my arm
That wrought the fatal deed.
In vain I clasp'd her to my breast,
And clos'd the ghastly wound;
In vain I press'd his bleeding corpse,
And rais'd it from the ground.


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
37
My brother, alas! spake never more,
His precious life was flown:
She kindly strove to soothe my pain,
Regardless of her own.
"Bertram," she said, "be comforted,
And live to think on me:
May we in heaven that union prove,
Which here was not to be!
66
Bertram," she said, "I still was true:
Thou only hadst my heart:
May we hereafter meet in bliss!
We now, alas! must part.
"For thee I left my father's hall,
And flew to thy relief,
When, lo! near Cheviot's fatal hills
I met a Scottish chief,
"Lord Malcolm's son, whose proffer'd love
I had refus'd with scorn;
He slew my guards, and seiz'd on me
Upon that fatal morn ;
"And in these dreary hated walls
He kept me close confin'd;
And fondly sued, and warmly press'd,
To win me to his mind.
4


38
THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
"Each rising morn increas'd my pain,
Each night increas'd my fear!
When, wandering in this northern garb,
Thy brother found me here.
"He quickly form'd the brave design
To set me, captive, free;
And on the moor his horses wait,
Tied to a neighboring tree.
"Then haste, my love, escape away,
And for thyself provide ;
And sometimes fondly think on her
Who should have been thy bride."
Thus, pouring comfort on my soul,
Even with her latest breath,
She gave one parting, fond embrace,
And clos'd her eyes in death.
And soon those honor'd, dear remains
To England were convey'd;
And there within their silent tombs,
With holy rites, were laid.
For me, I loath'd my wretched life,
And long to end it thought;
Till time, and books, and holy men,
Had better counsels taught.


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
39
pure source
They rais'd my heart to that
Whence heavenly comfort flows:
They taught me to despise the world,
And calmly bear its woes.
No more the slave of human pride,
Vain hope, and sordid care,
I meekly vow'd to spend my life
In penitence and prayer.
The bold Sir Bertram, now no more
Impetuous, haughty, wild;
But poor and humble Benedict,
Now lowly, patient, mild.
My lands I gave to feed the poor,
And sacred altars raise;
And here, a lonely anchorite,
I come to end my days.
This sweet sequester'd vale I chose,
These rocks, and hanging grove;
For oft beside that murmuring stream
My love was wont to rove.
My noble friend approv'd my choice;
This blest retreat he gave:
And here I carv'd her beauteous form,
And scoop'd this holy cave.


40
THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
Full fifty winters, all forlorn,
My life I've linger'd here;
And daily o'er this sculptur'd saint
I drop the pensive tear.
And thou, dear brother of my heart
So faithful and so true,
The sad remembrance of thy fate
Still makes my bosom rue!
Yet not unpitied pass'd my life,
Forsaken or forgot,
The Percy and his noble sons
Would grace my lowly cot;
Oft the great Earl, from toils of state
And cumbrous pomp of power,
Would gladly seek my little cell,
To spend the tranquil hour.
But length of life is length of woe!
I liv'd to mourn his fall:
I liv'd to mourn his godlike sons
And friends and followers all.
But thou the honors of thy race,
Lov'd youth, shalt now restore;
And raise again the Percy name
More glorious than before.


THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
41
He ceas'd; and on the lovely pair
His choicest blessings laid:
While they, with thanks and pitying tears,
His mournful tale repaid.
And now what present course to take
They ask the good old sire;
And, guided by his sage advice,
To Scotland they retire.
Meantime their suit such favor found
At Raby's stately hall,
Earl Neville and his princely spouse
Now gladly pardon all.
She, suppliant, at her nephew's throne
The royal grace implor'd:
To all the honors of
The Percy was restor❜d.
race
The youthful Earl still more and more
Admir'd his beauteous dame:
Nine noble sons to him she bore,
All worthy of their name.
4*


NOTES
то
THE HERMIT OF WARKWORTH.
(1) Robert Stuart, Duke of Albany.
(2) Ralph Neville, first Earl of Westmoreland, who chiefly resided at his two castles
of Brancepeth, and Raby, both in the Bishopric of Durham.
(3) Joan, Countess of Westmoreland, mother of the young lady, was daughter of
John of Gaunt, and half-sister of King Henry IV.
(4) Adjoining to the cliff which contains the Chapel of the Hermitage, are the re-
mains of a small building, in which the Hermit dwelt. This consisted of one lower
apartment, with a little bedchamber over it, and is now in ruins; whereas the Chapel,
cut in the solid rock, is still very entire and perfect.
(5) In the little island of Coquet, near Warkworth, are still seen the ruins of a cell,
which belonged to the Benedictine monks of Tinemouth-Abbey.
(6) This is a Bull's Head, the crest of the Widdrington family. All the figures, &c.
here described are still visible, only somewhat effaced with length of time.
(7) Widdrington Castle is about five miles south of Warkworth.
(8) Wark Castle, a fortress belonging to the English, and of great note in ancient
times, stood on the southern banks of the river Tweed, a little to the east of Tiviotdale,
and not far from Kelso. It is now entirely destroyed.
(9) King Henry V. Anno 1414.


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
BY THE AUTHOR OF UNDINE,' ETC.
CHAPTER I.
A MILD Summer evening rested on the seashore near the
city of Malaga, awakening the guitar of many a cheer-
ful singer, as well from the ships in the harbor, as from
the houses in the city and the ornamental garden-d well-
ings around. These melodious tones emulated the
voices of the birds as they greeted the refreshing
breezes, and floated from the meadows over this en-
chanting region.
Some troops of infantry were on the strand, and pur-
posed to pass the night there, that they might be ready
to embark at the earliest dawn of morning. This
pleasant evening made them forget that they ought to
devote to sleep their last hours on European ground;
they began to sing war-songs, and to drink long life to
the mighty emperor Charles V., now beleaguering the
pirate-nest of Tunis, and to whose assistance they were
about to sail.
These happy soldiers were not all of one race. Only
two banners waved for Spain; the third bore the Ger-
man colors; and the difference of manners and speech
had often previously given rise to much bantering.
Now, however, thoughts of the approaching voyage,


44
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
and the dangers they would share together, as well as
the enjoyment which this lovely southern evening
poured through soul and sense, united the comrades in
full and undisturbed concord. The Germans tried to
speak Spanish, and the Spaniards German; without its
occurring to any one to remark the blunders and mis-
takes that were made. Each helped the other; think-
ing only how best to gain the good will of his compan-
ion by means of his own language.
Apart from this noisy group, a young German cap-
tain, Sir Heimbert of Waldhausen, was reclining under
a cork-tree, and looking up to the stars with a steadfast
and solemn gaze, very different from the frank, social
spirit which his comrades knew and loved in him so
well. A Spanish captain, named Don Frederigo Men-
dez, approached him. He was as young, and as much
accustomed to martial exercises; but his disposition
was as reserved and thoughtful as Heimbert's was
gentle and frank. "Pardon me, señor," began the
solemn Spaniard, "if I disturb your meditations; but I
have so often known you as a courageous warrior and
faithful companion in arms, in the many hot fights in
which I have had the honor to see you, that I would
choose you before all others for a knightly service, if it
will not interfere with your own plans and projects for
this evening."
1
"Dear sir," frankly returned Heimbert; "I have an
affair of importance to transact before sunrise; but till
midnight I am right willing and ready to render you
any service as a brother in arms."
"Enough," said Frederigo; "for before midnight
must the tones have long ceased, in which I take leave


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
45
of the dearest creature I have known in my native city.
But, that you may understand the whole affair, as my
noble companion should, listen to me attentively for a
few moments :-
"Some time before I left Malaga, to join our great
emperor's army, and to assist in spreading the glory of
his arms in Italy, I served, after the manner of young
knights, a damsel of this city, the beautiful Lucilla.
She stood hardly on the border that divides childhood
from growing womanhood; and as I, then a mere boy,
offered my homage with friendly, childlike mind, so my
young mistress in similar guise received it.
"At last I went to Italy, as you very well know,
who were my companion in many a hot fight, as well
as in many a magic and tempting scene in that luxu-
rious land. Through all our changes I held the image
of my gentle mistress steadfastly, and never once relin-
quished the service and faith I had vowed to her;
though I will not conceal from you, that it was more
to fulfill the word I had pledged at my departure than
from any immoderate glowing feeling of my heart.
When we returned to my native city, a few weeks since,
I found my lady married to one of the richest and
most distinguished knights of Malaga. Fiercer far
than love, jealousy (that almost almighty child of heav-
en and hell) now spurred me on to follow Lucilla's
steps. From her dwelling to the church-from thence
to the houses of her friends, and, again to her home;
and even, as far as possible, into the circle of knights
and ladies which surrounds her, I unweariedly pursued
her. I thus assured myself that no other young knight
attended her, and that she had entirely devoted herself


46
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
to the husband her parents had selected for her, al-
though he was not the one of her heart's choice. This
so fully contented me, that I should not have had occa-
sion to trouble you at this moment, if Lucilla had not
approached me the other day, and whispered in my
ear, that I should not provoke her husband, for he was
very passionate and bold; to herself it threatened no
danger-not the least-because he loved and honored
her above all things; but upon that very account
would his anger fall more fearfully upon me. You can
now easily understand, my noble comrade, that to
preserve my character for contempt of danger I must
now pursue Lucilla's steps more closely than ever, and
sing nightly serenades beneath her flowery window
till the morning star makes its mirror in the sea. At
midnight, Lucilla's husband sets out for Madrid, and
after that hour I will carefully avoid the street in which
she dwells; but until then, as soon as the evening is
sufficiently advanced, I will not cease to sing love-
romances before his house. I have learnt that not only
he, but also Lucilla's brothers have engaged in the
quarrel; and it is this, señor, which makes me request
for a short time the assistance of your good sword."
Heimbert warmly seized the Spaniard's hand, and
said, “To shew you, dear sir, how willingly I under-
take what you wish, I will meet your confidence with
like frankness, and relate a pleasant incident which
happened to me in this city, and beg you, after mid-
night, to render me a little service. My story is short,
and will not detain you longer than we must wait for
the twilight to become deep enough to begin your sere-
nade.


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
47
"The day after we arrived here, I was amusing my-
self in one of the beautiful gardens which surround us.
I have now been long in these southern lands, but I
believe the dreams which every night carry me back to
my German home are the cause of my finding every
thing about me here so strange and astonishing still.
At all events, when I wake each morning I wonder
anew, as if I was just arrived. I was then wandering
among the aloes, and under the laurel and oleander
trees, as one bewildered. Suddenly I heard a cry near
me, and a young lady, dressed in white, flew into my
arms and fainted away, while her companions separ-
ated in every direction. A soldier has always his
senses about him, and I soon perceived a furious bull
pursuing the beautiful damsel. Quickly I threw her
over a flowery hedge, and sprang after myself, whilst
the beast, blind with rage, passed us by; and I could
afterwards hear no more of it, than that it had escaped
from a neighboring court-yard, where some youths
were trying to commence a bull-fight, and had broken
furiously into this garden.
"I was now alone with the senseless lady in my
arms; and she was so wondrously beautiful that I
have never in my whole life felt happier or sadder than
at that moment. I laid her upon the grass, and
sprinkled her angel-brow with water from a fountain
near us. At last she came to herself, and as she opened
her lovely eyes, I thought I now knew how the blessed
spirits look in heaven.
"She thanked me with grateful and courteous words,
and called me her knight. But I was so enchanted, I
could not utter a word; and she must almost have


48
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
thought me dumb. At length my speech returned; and
I ventured to breathe a request-which came from my
heart-that the lovely lady would often give me the
happiness of seeing her in this garden, for the few
weeks I should remain here, till the service of the em-
peror should drive me forth to the burning sands of
Africa. She looked at me, half smiling, half sadly,
and murmured, 'Yes.' And she has kept her word,
and appeared there daily, without our having yet ven-
tured to speak to one another. For though we were
sometimes quite alone, I could not do more than enjoy
the happiness of walking by her side. Often she has
sung to me; and I have answered her in song. When
I yesterday informed her that our departure was so
near, I fancied there was a tear in her heavenly eye;
and I must have looked very sorrowful also, for she
said, consolingly, Ah, pious, childlike warrior! one
may confide in you as in an angel. After midnight,
before the twilight summons you to embark, I give
you leave to say farewell to me it this place. If you
could find a faithful friend, whose silence you could
depend on, to watch the entrance from the street, it
might be as well; for many soldiers will be at that time
returning from their last carouse in the city.' Now
God has sent me such a friend; and I shall go joyfully
to the lovely maiden."
6
"I wish the service you require had more danger,"
answered Frederigo, "that I might better prove to you
how faithfully I would serve you with life and limb.
But come, noble brother! the hour of my adventure is
arrived."
Frederigo took a guitar under his arm; and wrap-


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
49
ping themselves in their mantles, the young captains
hastily made their way to the city.
The night-violets before Lucilla's window were
pouring forth their sweet perfume, when Frederigo,
leaning in the angle of an old wide shadowing church
opposite, began to tune his guitar. Heimbert placed
himself behind a pillar, his drawn sword under his
mantle, and his clear blue eyes, like two watching
stars, quietly penetrating around.
Frederigo sang:-
"Fair in the spring-bright meadows grew
A little flower in May,
And rosy-tinted petals threw
A blush upon its snowy hue,
Beneath the sunny ray.
To me, a youth, that little flower
My soul's delight became ;
And often then, in happy hour,
I taught my tongue with courteous power
Some flattering lay to frame.
But ah! from where the floweret stood
In delicate array,
Was I to distant scenes of blood,
To foreign lands, o'er field and flood,
Soon summoned far away.
And now I am returned again,
I seek my lovely flower;
But all my hopeful search is vain ;
Transplanted from its grassy plain,
My flower is free no more.
5


50
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
A gardener has the treasure found,
And claimed it for his prize :
Now cherished in a guarded bound,
And hedged with golden lattice round,
She is denied mine eyes.
His lattice he may freely twine,
His jealous bars I grant:
But all I need not yet resign;
For still this pure delight is mine,
Her wondrous praise to chant.
And, wandering in the coolness there,
I'll touch my cithern's string,
Still celebrate the floweret fair;
While e'en the gardener shall not dare
Forbid my voice to sing."
"That remains to be proved, señor," said a man,
stepping close, and, as he thought, unobserved, to
Frederigo. He had been apprised of the stranger's ap-
proach by a signal from his watchful friend, and an-
swered with the greatest coolness: "If you wish to
commence a suit with my guitar, señor, you will find
she has a tongue of steel, which has already on many
occasions done her excellent service. With which do
you wish to speak?—with the guitar, or with the ad-
vocate?"
While the stranger hesitated what to reply to this
bold speech, Heimbert perceived two mantled figures
draw near, and remain standing a few steps from him
-one behind the other, so as to cut off Frederigo's
flight, if he had intended to escape.
"I believe, dear sirs," said Sir Heimbert, in a friend-


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
51
(6
ly manner,
we are here on the same errand: to take
care that no one intrudes upon the conference of yonder
knights. At least, that is my business. And I can
assure you, that any one who attempts to interfere
with their affair shall receive my dagger in his heart.
You see we shall best fulfill our duty by remaining
still." The two gentlemen bowed courteously, and
were silent.
So astonishing was the quiet self-possession with
which the two soldiers carried on their affair, that their
three companions were at a loss to imagine how they
would commence their quarrel. At last Frederigo
again touched his guitar, and appeared about to begin
another song. At this mark of contempt and uncon-
sciousness of danger, Lucilla's husband (for it was he
who had taken his stand by Don Frederigo) was so
enraged, that he, without further delay, snatched his
sword from its sheath, and called out in a voice of sup-
pressed rage: "Draw! or I shall stab you!"
"Very willingly, señor," answered Frederigo, com-
posedly. "You have no need to threaten me, and
might quite as well have spoken quietly." So saying,
he laid his guitar in a niche in the church-wall, seized
his weapon, and, bowing gracefully to his adversary,
the fight began.
For some time the two figures by Heimbert's side,
who were Lucilla's brothers, remained quite quiet; but
as Frederigo began to get the better of their brother-in-
law, they made a movement, as if they would take
part in the fight. At this, Heimbert made his good
sword gleam in the moon-light, and said: "Dear sirs,
you surely would not wish me to put my threat into


52
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
execution. Pray do not oblige me to do so; for if it
cannot be otherwise, doubt not I shall keep my word."
The two young men remained from this time quite
motionless, surprised at the cheerful, true-hearted
friendliness of all Heimbert's words.
"
Meanwhile had Frederigo, though pressing hard upon
his adversary, yet carefully avoided wounding him;
and at last, by a dexterous movement, he wrested his
weapon from him; so that Lucilla's husband, in the
surprise and shock of this unexpected advantage, re-
treated a few steps: Frederigo threw the sword in the
air, and adroitly catching it near the point as it de-
scended, said, as he offered the ornamented hilt to his
opponent: "Take it, señor; and I hope this matter is
ended; and you now understand that I am only here
to shew I fear no danger in the world. The bell tolls
twelve from the old dome; and I give you my word of
honor, as a knight and a soldier, that neither is Doña
Lucilla pleased with my attentions, nor should I, if I
lived a hundred years in Malaga, continue to serenade
her. So pursue your journey in peace; and farewell."
Then he once more greeted his conquered adversary
with solemn, stern courtesy, and withdrew. Heim-
bert followed him, after he had cordially shaken hands
with the two brothers, saying: "Never let it again
enter your heads, dear young gentlemen, to interfere in
an honorable fight. Do you understand me?"
He soon overtook his companion, and walked by his
side in silence-his heart beating with joy, sorrow, and
expectation. Don Frederigo Mendez was also silent,
till Heimbert stopped before a garden-door overhung
with fruitful orange-boughs, and pointing to a pome-


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
53
granate-tree laden with fruit, said: "We are at the
place, dear comrade." Then the Spaniard appeared
about to ask a question; but he checked himself, and
merely said: "Understand me: you have my word of
honor to protect this entrance for you till the hour of
dawn." He began walking to and fro before the gate
with drawn sword, like a sentinel; whilst Heimbert,
trembling with joy, hastened through the dark groves
within.
CHAPTER II.
He had not far to seek the lovely star, which he so
deeply felt was the one destined to shed its light over
his whole life. The full moon revealed to him the
slender form of the lady walking near the entrance.
She wept softly, and yet smiled with such composure,
that her tears seemed rather to resemble a decoration of
pearls than a veil of sorrow.
The lovers wandered silently beside one another
through the flowery pathway, half in sorrow, half in
joy; while sometimes the night air touched the guitar
on the lady's arm so lightly, that a slight murmur
blended with the song of the nightingale; or her deli-
cate fingers on the strings awoke a few fleeting chords,
and the shooting stars seemed as if they would pursue
the retreating tones of the guitar.
O how truly blessed was this hour to the youth and
maiden for now neither rash wishes nor impure
desires had any place in their minds. They walked
5*


54
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
side by side, satisfied that the good God had granted
them this happiness; and so little desiring any thing
farther, that the fleeting and perishable nature of the
present floated away in the background of their
thoughts. In the midst of this beautiful garden they
found a large open lawn, ornamented with statues, and
surrounding a fountain. On the edge of this the lovers
sat down, alternately fixing their eyes on the water
sparkling in the moonlight and on one another. The
maiden touched her guitar; and Heimbert, compelled
by some irresistible impulse, sang the following words
to it:
"A sweet, sweet life have I,
But cannot name its charm;
Oh! would it teach me consciously,
That so my lips, in calm,
Soft, gentle songs, should ever praise
What my fond spirit endless says."
He suddenly stopped, and blushed, for he feared he
had said too much. The lady blushed also; and after
playing some time, half abstractedly, on the strings,
she sang as if still in a dream :-
—
"Who beside the youth is singing,
Seated on the tender grass,
Where the moon her light is flinging,
And the sparkling waters pass?
Shall the maid reveal her name,
When, though still unknown it be,
Glows her trembling cheek with shame,
And her heart beats anxiously?


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
55
First let the knight be nam'd-'tis he
Who, in his bright array,
With Spaniards stood triumphantly
Upon the glorious day.
Who before Pavia bravely fought,
A boy of sixteen years:
Pride to his country hath he brought,
And to his foemen fears.
Heimbert is his noble name;
Victor he in many a fight:
Dona Clara feels no shame,
Sitting by so brave a knight.
In her name's soft sound revealing,
Seated on the tender grass,
Where the moonbeams' light is stealing,
And the sparkling waters pass."
"Ah," said Heimbert, blushing more deeply than
before," oh, Doña Clara, that affair at Pavia was a
very insignificant feat of arms; and if it had deserved
a reward, what could better serve as one than the sur-
passing bliss which I now enjoy? Now I know what
your name is, and dare address you by it, you angel
bright, Doña Clara! you blessed and beautiful Doña
Clara! Only tell me who has made so favorable a
report of my youthful deeds, that I may ever think of
him gratefully."
"Can the noble Heimbert of Waldhausen suppose,
replied Clara, "that the warriors of Spain sent no sons
where he stood in battle? You have surely seen them
near you in the fight; and how, then, can it surprise
you that your glories are known here?"
99


56
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
They now heard the silvery tones of a little bell from
the neighboring palace, and Clara whispered, "It is
time to part: adieu, my hero!" And she smiled on
Heimbert through her tears; and as she bent towards
him, he almost fancied he felt a gentle kiss breathed on
his lips. When he looked around, Clara had disap-
peared the morning clouds began to assume the rosy
tint of dawn, and he rejoined his watchful friend at the
entrance-door, with a whole heaven of love's proud
happiness in his heart.
"Stand! no further!" exclaimed Frederigo, as
Heimbert appeared from the garden, holding, at the
same time, his drawn sword towards him.
"Oh, you are mistaken, my good comrade," said the
German, laughing," it is I whom you see before you,
""
"Don't imagine, Sir Heimbert of Waldhausen, that
I mistake you," said Frederigo; "but I have kept my
word, and honorably fulfilled my promise to be your
guard in this place; and now I demand of you to draw
without further delay, and fight for your life."
"Alas!" sighed Heimbert, "I have often heard that
there are witches in these southern lands, who have
the power to deprive people of their senses with their
magic arts and charms, but till to-day I have never
experienced any thing of the sort. Think better of it,
my dear comrade, and go with me to the shore."
Frederigo smiled scornfully, and answered, "Leave
off your silly nonsense; and if one must explain every
thing to you, word by word, before you understand it, I
will tell you that the lady you came to meet in this my
garden, Doña Clara Mendez, is my only and dearest
sister. Now lose no further time, and draw, señor."


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
57
"God forbid !" exclaimed the German, without
touching his weapon: "you shall be my brother-in-
law, Frederigo, and not my murderer, still less will I
be yours."
Frederigo shook his head angrily, and advanced with
measured steps towards his companion. Heimbert,
however, continued motionless, and said, "No, Fred-
erigo, I can never do you any harm; for not only do I
love your sister, but you must certainly be the person
who has spoken to her so honorably of my battle-deeds
in Italy."
"If I did so," answered Frederigo, "I was a fool.
But thou, thou weak coward, draw thy sword, or—”
Frederigo had hardly spoken these words, before
Heimbert, glowing with indignation, snatched his
sword from its sheath, exclaiming, "This the devil
himself could not bear!" And now the two young
captains fiercely closed upon one another.
This was quite another battle to that which Fred-
erigo had previously fought with Lucilla's husband.
The two soldiers well understood their weapons, and
boldly strove with one another; the light gleamed from
their swords, as first one and then the other made a
deadly thrust with the speed of lightning, which his
adversary as speedily turned aside. Firmly they
planted the left foot, as if rooted in the earth, the right
advanced one step to make each onset, and then quick-
ly withdrawn to recover their footing. From the reso-
lution and quiet self-possession with which both com-
batants fought, it was easy to see that one or other of
them must find his grave beneath the orange-trees,
whose overhanging boughs were now illuminated by


58
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
the glow of morning. This would certainly have been
the case, had not the report of a cannon from the har-
bor reached them.
The combatants stopped as at an understood signal,
and silently counted till thirty, when a second gun was
heard. "That is the signal for embarkation, señor,”
said Frederigo; "we are now in the emperor's service,
and all fighting is unlawful which is not against the
foes of Charles the Fifth. We must defer our combat
until the termination of the war."
The two captains hastened to the shore, and were en-
gaged in the embarkation of their troops. The sun,
rising from the sea, shone at once on the ships and the
water.
CHAPTER III.
THE Voyagers had for some time to contend with con-
trary winds; and when, at last the coast of Barbary
became visible, the evening closed so deeply over the
sea, that no pilot in the little squadron would venture
nearer land, and they anchored in the calm sea. They
crossed themselves, and anxiously waited for the morn-
ing; while the soldiers, full of hope and anticipation of
honor, assembled in groups upon the decks, straining
their eyes to see the long-desired scene of their glory.
Meanwhile the heavy firing of besiegers and besieged
thundered unceasingly from the fortress of Goletta; and
as the heavy clouds of night thickened over the shore,
the flames of the burning houses in the city became


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
59
more visible, and the course of the fiery shots could be
distinctly traced as they crossed each other in their
path of frightful devastation. It was evident that the
Musselmans had sallied forth, for a sharp fire of musket-
ry was suddenly heard amidst the roaring of the can-
non. The fight now approached the trenches of the
Christians; and from the ships they could hardly see
whether the besiegers were in danger or not. At last
they perceived that the Turks were driven back into
the fortress: thither the Christian host pursued them,
and loud shouts of victory were heard from the Spanish
camp-Goletta was taken!
The troops on board the ships were composed of
young courageous men; and how their hearts glowed
and beat high at this glorious spectacle need not be
detailed to those who carry a brave heart in their own
bosoms; while to any other, all description would be
thrown away.
Heimbert and Frederigo stood near one another. "I
know not," said the latter, "what it is which tells me
that tomorrow I must plant my standard upon yonder
height, which is so brightly lighted up by the burning
brands in Goletta." "That is just my feeling," said
Heimbert. Then the two captains were silent, and
turned angrily away.
The wished-for morning at last arose, the ships
neared the shore, and the troops landed, while an offi-
cer was immediately despatched to apprise the mighty
general Alva of the arrival of this reinforcement. The
soldiers hastily ranged themselves on the beach, and
were soon in battle-order, to await the inspection of
their great leader.


60
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
Clouds of dust appeared in the gray twilight, and the
officer, hastening back, announced the approach of the
general. And because, in the language of Castile, Alva
signifies'morning,' the Spaniards raised a shout of
triumph at the happy omen they perceived in the first
beams of the rising sun and the head of the general's
staff becoming visible together.
Alva's stern pale face soon appeared: he was mount-
ed upon a large Andalusian charger of the deepest
black, and galloped up and down the lines once; then,
halting in the middle, looked over the ranks with a
scrutinizing eye, and said, with evident satisfaction,
"You pass muster well. 'Tis as it should be. I like
to see you in such order, and can perceive that, not-
withstanding your youth, you are tried soldiers. We
will first hold a review, and then I will lead you to
something more interesting."
He dismounted, and, walking to the right wing, be-
gan to inspect one troop after another in the closest
manner, summoning each captain to his side, and ex-
acting from him an account of the most minute partic-
ulars. Sometimes a cannon-ball from the fortress
whistled over the heads of the soldiers; and then Alya
would stand still, and closely observe their countenan-
ces. When he saw that no eye moved, a contented
smile spread itself over his solemn face.
When he had thus examined both divisions, he re-
mounted his horse, and again placed himself in the
middle. Stroking his long beard, he said, "You are in
such good order, soldiers, that you shall take your part
in the glorious day which now dawns for our Christian
Armada. We will take Barbarossa! Do you hear


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
61
the drums and fifes in the camp? and see him sally
forth to meet the emperor? Yonder is the place for
you!"
"Vivat Carolus Quintus!" resounded through the
ranks. Alva beckoned the captains to him, and ap-
pointed to each his duty. He was used to mingle the
German and Spanish troops together, that emulation
might increase their courage; and on the present occa-
sion it happened that Heimbert and Frederigo were
commanded to storm the height which, now illumined
by the beams of morning, they recognized as the very
same that had appeared so inviting the night before.
The cannons roared, and the trumpets sounded, the
colors waved proudly in the breeze, and the leaders.
gave the word "March!" when the troops rushed on
all sides to the battle.
Thrice had Frederigo and Heimbert almost forced
their way through a breach in the wall of the fortifica-
tions on the height, and thrice were they repulsed by
the fierce resistance of the Turks into the valley below.
The Musselmans shouted after the retreating foe, clashed
their weapons furiously together, and contemptuously
laughing, asked whether any one would again venture
to give heart and brain to the scimitar, and his body to
the rolling stones. The two captains, gnashing their
teeth with fury, rearranged their ranks, in order to fill
the places of the slain and mortally wounded in these
three fruitless attacks. Meanwhile a murmur ran
through the Christian host, that a witch fought for the
enemy, and helped them to conquer.
At this moment Duke Alva rode up to them; he
looked sharply at the breach they had made. "Could
6


62
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
you not break through the foe here?" said he, shaking
his head. "This surprises me; for from you two
youths and your troops I expected better things."
"Do you hear, do you hear that?" cried the cap-
tains, pacing through their lines.
The soldiers shouted loudly, and demanded to be led
once more against the enemy. Even those mortally
wounded exerted their last breath to cry, "Forward,
comrades!"
Swift as an arrow had the great Alva leapt from his
horse, and, seizing a partisan from the stiff hand of one
of the slain, he placed himself before them, and cried,
"I will have part in your glory! In the name of God
and of the Blessed Virgin, forwards, my children! "
They rushed joyfully up the hill, all hearts reanima-
ted, and raising their war-cry to heaven, while a few
already cried, "Victoria! Victoria!" and the Mussel-
mans seemed to give way. Then, like the vision of an
avenging angel, a maiden, dressed in richly embroid-
ered garments of purple and gold, appeared in the
Turkish ranks; and those who were terrified before,
now shouted, "Allah!" and accompanied that name
with "Zelinda, Zelinda!" The maiden drew a small
box from beneath her arm; and after opening and
breathing into it, threw it among the Christian army.
A wild explosion from this destructive engine scattered
through the host a whole fire of rockets, grenades, and
other fearful messengers of death. 'The astounded
troops held on through the storm. "On, on!" cried
Alva; and "On!" echoed the two captains. But at
that moment a flaming bolt fastened on the duke's
high-plumed cap, and burnt and crackled about his


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
63
head, so that the general fell fainting down the height.
Then the Spanish and German troops were generally
routed, and fled hurriedly from the fearful height before
the storm. The Musselmans again shouted; and Ze-
linda's beauty shone over the conquering host like a
baleful star.
When Alva opened his eyes, he saw Heimbert stand-
ing over him, his clothes, face, and arms scorched by
the fire he had with much difficulty extinguished on
his commander's head, when a second body of flame
rolled down the height in the same manner. The duke
was thanking the youth for his preservation, when
some soldiers came by, who told him the Saracen pow-
er had commenced an attack on the opposite wing of
the army.
Alva threw himself on the first horse they
brought him, and without losing a word, dashed to
the place where the threatened danger called him.
Frederigo's glowing eye was fixed on the rampart
where the brilliant lady stood, with her snow-white
arm extended in the act of hurling a two-edged spear;
sometimes encouraging the Musselmans in Arabic, then
again speaking scornfully to the Christians in Spanish.
Don Frederigo exclaimed, "Oh, foolish lady! she
thinks to daunt me, and yet places herself before me,-
so tempting, so irresistible a war-prize!"
And as if magic wings had grown from his shoulders,
he began to fly up the height with such swiftness, that
Alva's storm-flight from thence appeared a lazy snail's
pace. Before any one could see how he had gained
the height, and wresting spear and shield from the
lady, he seized her in his arms, and attempted to bear
her away as his prize, while Zelinda clung with both


64
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
hands to the palisade in anxious despair. Her cries
for help were unavailing; partly because the Turks
were stupified with astonishment to see the magic pow-
er of the lady overcome by the almost magic deed of
the youth, and partly because the faithful Heimbert,
immediately on perceiving his companion's enterprise,
had led both troops to his support, and now stood by
his side, fighting hand to hand with the besieged. This
time the fury of the Musselmans, overcome as they
were by surprise and superstition, availed nothing
against the prowess of the Christian soldiers.
The Spaniards and Germans broke through the ene-
my, assisted by fresh squadrons of their army. The
Mohammedans fled with frightful howling; and the
banner of the holy German empire, and that of the im-
perial house of Castile, united by joyful Victorias,
waved over the glorious battle-field before the walls of
Tunis.
CHAPTER IV.
ZELINDA had escaped from Frederigo's arms in the con-
fusion of the conquerors and conquered, and flew so
swiftly through the well-known ground, that though
love and desire added wings to his feet, she was soon
out of sight. This kindled the fury of the enchanted
Spaniard so much the more against the infidel foe.
Wherever they collected their scattered force to with-
stand the progress of the Christians, he hastened with
the troops, which ranged themselves around him as


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
65
about a victorious banner; while Heimbert was ever at
his side like a faithful shield, often warding off from
his friend dangers which were unperceived by the in-
fatuated youth.
They learnt that Barbarossa had fled the day before,
and pushed onwards with little opposition through the
gates of Tunis.
Frederigo's and Heimbert's troops were always to-
gether.
66
""
Thick clouds of smoke began to roll through the
street, and the soldiers had frequently to shake off the
sparks and burning fragments which fell upon their
coats and richly plumed helmets. Suppose the ene-
my has set fire to the powder-magazine in despair!
exclaimed the thoughtful Heimbert. And Frederigo,
to whom a word or sign was sufficient, hastened to the
spot from whence the smoke proceeded. Their troops
pressed closely after them.
A sudden turn in the street brought them upon a
magnificent palace, out of whose beautifully ornament-
ed windows the flames were already bursting. Their
fitful splendor seemed to make them like death-torches,
prepared to do honor to the costly building in the hour
of its ruin, as they illuminated first one part and then
another of the massy edifice, and then sunk down again
into fearful darkness of smoke and vapor.
And like a faultless statue, the crowning glory of the
whole, Zelinda stood upon a giddy projection, wreathed
around with gleaming tongues of flame, calling upon
the faithful to assist her in securing from destruction the
wisdom of many centuries, which was laid up in this
building. The pinnacle tottered with the effects of the
6*


66
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
fire beneath, and a few stones gave way. Frederigo
anxiously cried to the endangered lady; and hardly
had she withdrawn her lovely foot, when the whole
came crashing down on the pavement. Zelinda disap-
peared within the burning palace, and Frederigo rushed
up the marble steps; Heimbert, his ever-faithful friend,
immediately following.
Their swift feet led them into a vast saloon, where
they saw high arches over their heads, and a labyrinth
of chambers opening one into another around them.
The walls were all ranged with splendid shelves, in
which were stored rolls of parchment, papyrus, and
palm-leaf, inscribed with the long-forgotten characters
of past ages, which had now reached the end of their
designs; for the flames were creeping in destruction
among them, and stretched their serpent-like heads from
one repository of learning to another; while the Spanish
soldiers, who had hoped for plunder, were enraged at
finding this mighty building filled only with these
parchments, and the more so, because they discerned
in them nothing but what appeared to them magical
characters.
Frederigo flew, as in a dream, through the strange
halls, now half consumed, ever calling Zelinda; not
thinking or caring for any thing but his enchanting
beauty. Long did Heimbert remain at his side, till
they reached a cedar staircase which led to a higher
story, where Frederigo listened a moment, and then
said: "She is speaking there aloud! she needs my
help!" and sprung up the glowing steps. Heimbert
hesitated an instant, for he saw them giving way, and
thought to warn his companion; but at that moment


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
67
they broke down, and left nothing but a fiery path.
Still he could see that Frederigo had clung to an iron
grating, over which he soon swung himself. The way
was inaccessible to Heimbert: quickly recollecting him-
self, he lost no time in idly gazing, but hastily sought
another flight of stairs in the neighboring halls, which
would conduct him to his friend.
Meanwhile Frederigo, following the enchanting voice,
had reached a gallery, in the midst of which was a
fearful abyss of flames, while the pillars on each side
were yet standing. He soon perceived the lovely figure
of Zelinda, who clung to a pillar with one hand, while
with the other she threatened some Spanish soldiers,
who seemed every moment about to seize her, and al-
ready had her delicate foot advanced to the edge of the
glowing gulf. It was impossible for Frederigo to join
her, for the breadth of the separating flames was far
too great to spring across. Trembling lest his voice.
should make the maiden, through either terror or anger,
precipitate herself into the abyss, he spoke quite softly
over the fiery grave: "Ah, Zelinda! have no such
frightful thoughts; your preserver is here!" The
maiden bowed her queenly head. And when Frederi-
go saw her so calm and composed, he cried with all the
thunder of a warrior's voice, "Back! you rash plun-
derers! whoever advances one step nearer to that lady
shall feel the weight of my anger!" They started,
and appeared willing to retire, till one among them said,
"The knight can do us no harm—the gulf is a little
too broad for that; and as for the lady's throwing her-
self in, it is evident that the young knight is her lover;
and whoever has a lover is not so inclined to throw


68
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
herself away." At this they laughed, and again ad-
vanced. Zelinda neared the flaming edge; but Fred-
erigo, with the fury of a lion, had torn his target from
his arm,
and now flung it across with so sure an aim,
that the rash leader fell senseless to the ground. The
rest again stood still. "Away with you!" cried Fred-
erigo, authoritatively; "or my dagger shall strike the
next as surely; nor will I ever rest till I have found
you out, and made you feel the force of my vengeance.”
The dagger gleamed in the youth's hand, and yet more
fearfully gleamed the rage in his eyes. The soldiers
fled. Then Zelinda bowed courteously to her pre-
server; and taking a roll of palm-leaves which lay at
her feet, she hastily disappeared at a side-door of the
gallery. In vain did Frederigo seek her in the burning
palace.
The great Alva held a council with his officers in an
open place in the midst of the conquered city, and, by
means of an interpreter, questioned the Moorish prison-
ers what had become of the beautiful enchantress who
had been seen encouraging them on the walls, and who,
he said, was the most lovely sorceress the world ever
Nothing could be gained from the answers; for
though all knew her to be a noble lady, well versed in
magic lore, none seemed able to tell from whence she
had entered Tunis, or whither she had now fled. At
last, when they had begun to think their ignorance was
the pretence of obstinacy, an old dervish, who had been
hitherto unnoticed, pressed forward, and said, with a
scornful smile: "Whoever wishes to seek the lady, the
way is open for him. I will not conceal what I know
of her destination; and I do know something. Only


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
69
you must first promise me I shall not be compelled to
guide any one to her, or my lips shall remain closed
for ever; and you may do what you will with me."
He looked like one who would keep his word; and
Alva, who was pleased with the man's resolute spirit
(so akin to his own), gave him the desired assurance.
The dervish began his relation.
He was once, he said, wandering in the endless
desert of Sahara-perhaps from empty curiosity, and
perhaps for a better reason. He lost his way; and at
last, when wearied to death, he reached one of those
fruit-bearing islands which they call an oasis. Now
followed a description of the things he saw there,
clothed in all the warmth of oriental imagery; so that
the hearts of his hearers sometimes melted within them,
and sometimes their hair stood on end at the horrors he
related; though, from the strange pronunciation of the
speaker, and from his hurried way of speaking, they
could hardly understand half he said. The end of all
was, that Zelinda dwelt upon this blooming island,
surrounded on all sides by the pathless desert, and pro-
tected by magic terrors. On her way thither, as the
old dervish very well knew, she had left the city half
an hour before. The contemptuous words with which
he closed his speech shewed plainly that he desired
nothing more than that some Christian would under-
take the journey, which would inevitably lead him to
destruction. At the same time he solemnly affirmed
he had uttered nothing but undoubted truth, as a man
would do who knows that things are just as he related
them. Thoughtful and astonished were the circle of
officers around him.


70
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
Heimbert had just joined the party, after seeking his
friend in the burning palace, and collecting and arrang-
ing their troops in such a manner as to prevent the
possibility of any surprise from the robber-hordes. He
now advanced before Alva, and humbly bowed.
"What wilt thou, my young hero?" said Alva,
greeting the young captain in the most friendly man-
ner. "I know your smiling, blooming countenance
well. The last time I saw you, you stood like a pro-
tecting angel over me. I am so sure that you can
make no request but what is knightly and honorable,
that I grant it, whatever it may be."
"My gracious general," said Heimbert, whose cheeks
glowed at this praise, "if I may venture to ask a favor,
it is, that you will give me permission to follow the
lady Zelinda in the way this strange dervish has point-
ed out."
The great general bowed assentingly, and added:
"To a more noble knight could not this honorable ad-
venture be consigned."
"I do not know that," said an angry voice in the
crowd; "but this I do know, that to me, above all
other men, this adventure belongs, as a reward for the
capture of Tunis. For who was the first on the height
and in the city?"
"That was Don Frederigo Mendez," said Heimbert,
taking the speaker by the hand, and leading him be-
fore Alva. "In his favor I will willingly resign my
reward; for he has done the emperor and the army
better service than I have."
"Neither of you shall lose his reward," said Alva.


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
71
"Each has now permission to seek the maiden in
whatever way he thinks best."
Swift as lightning the two young captains escaped
from the circle on opposite sides.
CHAPTER V.
LIKE a vast trackless sea, without one object to break
the dreary monotony of its horizon, ever white and
ever desolate, the great desert of Sahara stretches itself
before the eyes of the unhappy wanderer who has lost
himself in this frightful region. And, in another way,
it resembles the ocean. It throws up waves; and often
a burning mist is seen on its surface. Not, indeed, the
gentle play of the waves which unite all the coasts of
the earth; where each wave, as it rolls onward, brings
you a message of love from the far island-kingdom, and
carries your answer with it in a love-flowing dance.
These waves are only the wild toying of the hot wind
with the faithless dust, which always falls back again
upon its joyless plain, and never reaches the solid land,
where happy men dwell. It is not the lovely cool sea-
breeze in which the friendly fays sport themselves, and
form their blooming gardens and stately grottos: it is
the suffocating vapor rebelliously given back to the
glowing sun by the unfruitful sands.
Hither the two captains arrived at the same time,
and stood struck with astonishment at the pathless
chaos before them. Traces of Zelinda, which were
not easily hidden, had hitherto compelled them to


72
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
travel almost always together, however displeased
Frederigo might be, and whatever angry glances he
cast upon his unwelcome companion. Each had hoped
to overtake Zelinda before she reached the desert, well
knowing how almost impossible it would be to find her,
if she had once entered it. And now they had failed
in this, and could obtain no further information from
the few Arabs they met, than that there existed a tra-
dition that any one who would travel in a southerly
direction, guiding his course by the stars, would, the
sages maintained, arrive at a wonderfully blooming
oasis, the dwelling of a heavenly beautiful enchantress.
But all this appeared to the speakers to be highly un-
certain and mysterious.
The young men looked troubled; and their horses
snorted and started back at the treacherous sand, while
even the riders were uneasy and perplexed. Then
they sprang from their saddles suddenly, as at some
word of command; and taking the bridles from their
horses, and slackening the girths, they turned them
loose on the plain, to find their way back to the habita-
tion of man. They took some provision from their
saddle-bags, placed it on their shoulders, and, casting
from their feet their heavy riding-boots, they plunged,
like two courageous swimmers, into the endless waste.
With no other guide than the sun by day, and by
night the host of stars, the two captains soon lost sight
of one another; for Frederigo had avoided the object of
his displeasure; while Heimbert, thinking of nothing
but the end of his journey, and firmly relying upon
God's protection, pursued his course in a due southerly
direction.


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
73
The night had many times succeeded the day, when,
one evening, Heimbert was quite alone on the endless
desert, without one fixed object for his eye to rest upon;
the light flask he carried was empty; and the evening
brought with it, instead of the desired coolness, only
suffocating columns of sand; so that the exhausted
wanderer was obliged to press his burning face to the
scorching plain to escape the death-bringing cloud.
Sometimes he thought he heard footsteps near him, and
the sound of a wide mantle rustling over him; but
when he raised himself with anxious haste, he only
saw what he had already too often seen in the day-
time-the wild beasts of the wilderness roaming about
the desert in undisturbed freedom. Now it was a
frightful camel, then a long-necked ungainly giraffe, or
a great ostrich with its wings outspread. They all
appeared to scoff at him; and he resolved to open his
eyes no more, but rather perish, without allowing
these hateful and strange creatures to disturd his soul
in the hour of death.
Soon he heard the sound of horse's hoofs and neigh-
ing, and saw a shadow on the sand, and heard a man's
voice close to him. Half unwilling, he yet could not
resist raising himself wearily; when he saw a rider in
an Arab's dress on a slender Arabian horse. Overcome
with joy at the sight of a human being, he exclaimed:
"Welcome, O man, in this frightful waste! and suc-
cour, if thou canst, thy fellow man, who must other-
wise perish with thirst." And then remembering that
the tones of his dear German mother-tongue were not
intelligible in this joyless land, he repeated these words
in that common language, the lingua Romana, which
7


74
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
is universally used by Mohammedans and Christians.
in this part of the world.
The Arab was silent some time, and looked with
scorn upon his strange discovery. At last he replied
in the same language: "I was in Barbarossa's fight, sir
knight, as well as you; and if our overthrow affected
me bitterly, I now find no little satisfaction at seeing
ane of our conquerors lying so pitifully before me."
"Pitifully!" angrily repeated Heimbert; and his
wounded feelings of honor for the moment giving him
back all his strength, he seized his sword, and stood in
battle order.
"Oh, oh!" laughed the Arab; "is the Christian
viper so strong? Then it only remains for me to put
spurs to my good steed, and leave thee to perish here,
thou lost creeping worm."
"Ride where thou list, dog of a heathen!" retorted
Heimbert. "Before I accept a crumb from thee, I will
perish, unless the dear God sends me manna in this
wilderness."
The Arab spurred his fleet horse, and galloped two
hundred paces, laughing long and loud. He stopped,
however, and, trotting back to Heimbert, said: "Thou
art rather too good a knight to leave to die of hunger
and thirst. Have a care, now; my good sabre shall
reach thee."
Heimbert, who had again stretched himself in hope-
less despair on the burning sand, was quickly roused
by these words to his feet, sword in hand; and as the
Arab's horse flew past him, with a sudden spring the
stout German avoided the blow and parried the cut
which the rider aimed at him with his Turkish scim-
itar.


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
75
Repeatedly did the Arab make similar attacks, vainly
hoping to give his antagonist the death-blow. At last,
overcome by impatience, he came so near, that Heim-
bert was able to seize him by the girdle and tear him
from the fast-galloping horse. With this violent exer-
tion, Heimbert also fell to the ground, but he lay above
his adversary; and holding a dagger he had pulled
from his girdle before his face, he said: "Wilt thou
have mercy or death?”
The Arab closed his eyes before the murderous steel,
and answered: "Have pity on me, thou brave warrior!
I surrender to thee."
Heimbert commanded him to throw away the sabre
he still held in his right hand. He did so; and both
combatants rose from the ground, to sink again imme-
diately upon the sand; for the conqueror felt himself
far weaker that the conquered.
The Arab's good horse had returned to his master,
as is the custom of those noble animals, who never for-
sake even a fallen lord, and now stood behind them,
stretching his long slender neck over them with a
friendly look.
"Arab," said Heimbert, with exhausted voice, "take
from thy horse what provision thou hast, and place it
before me."
The subdued Arab did humbly what was command-
ed him, now submitting to the will of his conqueror, as
he had before treated him with revengeful anger.
After taking some draughts of palm-wine from the
skin, Heimbert looked at the youth with new eyes.
He partook of some fruits, drank again of the wine,
and said, "Have you much farther to ride this night,
young man?"


76
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
"Yes, indeed," answered the Arab, sorrowfull
"Upon a very distant oasis dwells my aged father a
my blooming bride. Now, even if you leave me n
freedom, I must perish in this waste desert before I ca
reach my lovely home."
"Is that the oasis," asked Heimbert, "on which th
powerful, magic lady, Zelinda, dwells?"
"Allah forbid!" exclaimed the Arab, clasping h
hands together. "Zelinda's wonderous island receive
none but magicians, and lies far to the scorching south
while our friendly home stretches toward the coole
west."
"I only asked the question to see if we could b
companions by the way," said Heimbert, kindly. "A
that cannot be, we must divide every thing; for
would not have so good a soldier perish with hunge
and thirst."
Saying this, the young captain began to divide the
fruits and wine into two portions, placing the greater
at his left hand, the smaller at his right, and desired
the Arab to take the former. He listened with aston-
ishment as Heimbert added: "See, good sir, I have
either not much further to pursue my journey, or I shall
die in this desert; of that I have a strong presentiment.
Besides, I cannot carry so much on foot as you can on
horseback."
"Knight! victorious knight!" cried the amazed
Musselman, "do you give me my horse?"
"It would be a sin and shame to deprive so noble a
rider of such a faithful beast," replied Heimbert, smil-
ing. "Ride on, in God's name! and may you safely
reach your destination."


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
77
He assisted him to mount; and just as the Arab was
thanking him, he suddenly exclaimed, "The magic
lady!" and, putting spurs to his horse, flew over the
dusty plain swift as the wind; while Heimbert, on
looking round, saw close beside him, in the bright
moonlight, a shining figure, which he easily recognized
to be Zelinda.
CHAPTER VI.
THE lady looked fixedly at the young soldier, and ap-
peared thinking how she should address him, while he,
with astonishment at suddenly finding her he had so
long sought, was equally at a loss for words. At length
she said in Spanish, "Thou wonderful enigma, I have
been witness to all that has passed between thee and
the Arab; and the affair perplexes my head as a whirl-
wind. Tell me plainly, that I may know whether thou
art a madman or an angel.”
“I am neither one or other, dear lady," answered
Heimbert, with his wonted friendliness. "I am only a
poor wanderer, who have been obeying one of the com-
mands of his dear Lord Jesus Christ."
"Sit down," said Zelinda, "and relate to me the his-
tory of thy lord, who must be an unheard-of person, if
he has such servants as thee. The night is cool and
still, and beside me thou hast nothing to fear from the
dangers of the waste."
"Lady," replied Heimbert, smiling, "I am not of a
fearful disposition, and when I am speaking of my
7*


78
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
1
blessed Lord and Redeemer, I know not the least
anxiety."
So saying, they both sat down on the now cooled
sand, and began a wondrous conversation, while the
clear moon shone upon them like a magic lamp from
the high blue heavens, Heimbert's words, full of love,
and truth, and simplicity, sank like soft sunbeams into
Zelinda's heart, driving away the unholy magic power
which ruled her, and wrestling with that for possession
of the noble territory of her soul. When the morning
dawned, she said, "Thou wouldst not be called an
angel, but surely thou art one; for what are the angels
but messengers of the most high God?"
"In that sense," returned Heimbert, "I am content
to be so called. My hope is, to bear His message at all
times; and if He bestows further grace and strength
upon me, it will give me pleasure if you become my
companion in this pious work."
"That is not impossible," said Zelinda, thoughtfully.
"But first come with me to my island, where thou
shalt be entertained as beseems such an ambassador,
far better than here on the desert sand, with miserable
palm-wine, which thou must obtain with difficulty."
"Pardon me," answered Heimbert; "it is difficult
to refuse a lady any request, but it is unavoidable on
this occasion. In your island, many glorious things
are brought together by forbidden arts, and their forms
are changed from those the Almighty One created.
These might dazzle my senses, and in the end enslave
them. If you wish to hear more of those best and
purest things which I can relate to you, you must come


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
79
out to me on this barren sand. The Arab's dates and
palm-wine will suffice for many a day yet."
"You would do much better to come with me," said
Zelinda, shaking her head with a dissatisfied smile.
"You were surely neither born nor educated for a her-
mit, and there is nothing upon my oasis so very mys-
terious as you suppose. What is there so strange in
birds, and beasts, and flowers, being collected together
from different parts of the world, and perhaps a little
changed, so that one partakes of the nature of another,
as you must have seen in our Arabian pictures? A
moving changing flower, a bird growing on a branch,
a fountain emitting fiery sparks, a singing bough-these
truly are not such frightful, hateful things?"
"He must avoid temptation, who will not be over-
come by it," answered Heimbert, very gravely. "I
shall remain in the wilderness is it your pleasure to
visit me here again?"
Zelinda looked down, somewhat displeased, then
lowly bending her head, she answered, "Yes; tomor-
row evening I will be here." She turned away, and
immediately disappeared in the rising storm-blast of
the desert.
With the return of evening the lovely lady appeared,
and watched the night through in holy converse with
the inspired youth, leaving him in the morning hum-
bler, purer, and more pious; and this went on for sev-
eral days. "Thy palm-wine and dates must be con-
sumed," said Zelinda one evening; and placed before
Heimbert a flask of rich wine and some costly fruits.
He, however, softly put the gifts aside, and answered,
"Noble lady, I thank you from my heart, but I fear


80
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
these have been made by your magic arts; or could
you assure me that they are not, by Him whom you
are beginning to know?" Zelinda's eyes sank in
silent confusion, and she took back her gifts. The next
evening she brought some similar provisions, and, smil-
ing confidently, gave the desired assurance. Then
Heimbert partook of them without scruple; and hence-
forth the pupil hospitably provided for the sustenance
of her teacher in the wilderness.
And now, as the knowledge of the truth sank more
deeply in Zelinda's soul, so that she often sat till morn-
ing listening to the young man with glowing cheeks,
flowing hair, sparkling eyes, and folded hands, he care-
fully observed to make her understand that it was on
account of his friend he had sought her in this dreary
region, and that it was Frederigo's love for her which
was the means of the highest good to her soul. She
well remembered the handsome, fearless young captain
who had stormed the height and clasped her in his
arms, and related to their friend how he had saved her
in the burning library. Heimbert had many pleasant
things to say of Frederigo; of his knightly deeds, his
serious mind, and of his love to Zelinda, which, since
the capture of Tunis, would not be hidden within his
troubled breast, but betrayed itself in a thousand ways,
sleeping or waking, to the young German. The godly
truth, and the image of her loving hero, entered Zelin-
da's heart together, and both took root there. Heim-
bert's presence, and the almost adoring admiration with
which his pupil regarded him, did not disturb this state
of mind; for froin the first moment, his appearance had
something too pure and heavenly to allow of any


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
81
thoughts of earthly love. When Heimbert was alone,
he often smiled to himself, and said in his own beloved
German language, "How delightful it is to be able,.
consciously, to repay Frederigo the service he did me,
unconsciously, with his angelic sister!" Then he
would sing such lovely German songs of Clara's beauty
and pious grace, as sounded strangely pleasant in the
wilderness, and beguiled his long and lonely hours.
As once Zelinda came in the evening light, her steps
airy and graceful, and carrying a basket of food for
Heimbert on her lovely head, he smiled and shook his
head, saying, "It is quite incomprehensible to me,
lovely maiden, why you continue to come to me in this
waste. You cannot find pleasure in magic arts now
that the spirit of truth and love dwells within you; and
if you changed all things in your oasis into the natural
forms which the merciful God gave them, I could go
thither with you, and we should have much more time
for holy converse."
"Sir knight," answered Zelinda, "you speak truly,
and I have thought of doing what you say for many
days, but a strange visitor deprives me of the power.
The dervish whom you saw in Tunis, is with me; and
because in past days we have performed many magic
works together, he thinks to usurp his former authority
over me now. He perceives the alteration in me, and
on that account is the more importunate."
"We must either expel or convert him," said Heim-
bert, girding on his sword, and taking up his shield
from the ground. "Lead me, dear lady, to your won-
derful island."


82
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
"You avoided it before," answered the astonished.
damsel," and it still remains quite unchanged."
"Formerly it would have been only rashness to ven-
ture," returned Heimbert. "You came out to me here,
which was better for us both. Now, however, the old
serpent might destroy in you the work the Lord has
done, and it is therefore a knightly duty to go. In
God's name, then, to the work." And they hastened
together across the darkening plain to the blooming
island.
Magic airs began to play about their heads, and
bright stars sparkled from the waving boughs beside
their path. Heimbert fixed his eyes on the ground,
and said, "Go before me, lovely lady, and guide me at
once to the place where I shall find the dervish, for I
will see as little of these distracting magic forms as is
possible."
Zelinda did as he desired; and so, for the moment,
each performed the other's part. The maiden was the
guide, while Heimbert followed, with confiding friendli-
ness, in the unknown path.
Branches stooped as if to caress their cheek; wonder-
ful singing-birds grew from the bushes; golden and
green serpents, with little golden crowns, crept on the
velvet turf, on which Heimbert steadfastly bent his
eyes, and brilliant stones gleamed from the moss.
When the serpents touched these jewels, they gave
forth a silvery sound. The soldier let the serpents
creep, and the precious stones sparkle, without caring
for any thing save to follow hastily the footsteps of his
guide.


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
83
"We are at the place," said she, with suppressed
voice; and looking up, he saw a shining grotto of
shells, and perceived within a man asleep, clad in a
complete suit of gold scale-armor, of the old Numidian
fashion.
"Is that also a phantom, in golden scales?" asked
Heimbert, smiling.
"Oh, no," answered Zelinda, very gravely, "it is
the dervish himself; and I see, from his having clothed
himself in that coat of mail, which has been made in-
vulnerable by being dipped in dragon's blood, that he
has, by his magic, made himself aware of our inten-
tions."
"What does that signify?" said Heimbert; "he
must know them at last." And he began to call with
cheerful voice, "Awake, old man! awake! here is an
acquaintance of yours, to whom you must speak."
As the dervish opened his great rolling eyes, all the
wondrous things in this magic region began to move;
the water to dance, the branches to strike one another
in wild confusion, and, at the same time, the jewels,
and corals, and shells gave forth strange, perplexing
melodies.
"Roll and turn, thunder and play, as you will,”
cried Heimbert, looking steadfastly around him, "you
shall not turn me from my good purpose; and to over-
power all this tumult, God has given me a strong, far-
sounding, soldier's voice." Then he turned to the der-
vish, saying, "It appears, old man, that you already
know what has passed between Zelinda and me. If
you do not know the whole matter, I will tell you, in
a few words, that already she is as good as a Christian,


84
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
and the bride of a noble Spanish knight. For your
own sake, do not put any hindrance in the way; but it
would be far better for you, if you would also become
a Christian. Talk to me of this, and command all
these devilries to cease; for see, dear sir, our religion
speaks of such divine and heavenly things, that one
must lay aside all rough and violent passions."
But the dervish, whose hatred glowed towards all
Christians, hardly waited to hear the knight's last
words before he pressed upon him with drawn scimitar.
Heimbert put aside his thrust, saying, "Take care of
yourself, sir: I have heard that your weapons are
charmed; but that avails nought before my good
sword, which has been consecrated in holy places.”
The dervish recoiled from the sword wildly, but as
wildly sprang to the other side of his adversary, who
only caught the deadly cuts with his target. Like a
golden scaly dragon, the Mohammedan swung himself
round Heimbert, with a ferocity which, with his long
flowing white beard, had something ghastly and horri-
ble in it. Heimbert was prepared to oppose him on all
sides, only watching carefully for some opening in the
scales made by his violent movements. At last it hap-
pened as he expected: he saw between the breast and
arm the dark garments of the dervish, and there the
German made his deadly thrust. The old man cried,
"Allah! Allah!" and fell, fearful even in his fall,
senseless to the ground.
"Yet I pity him," sighed Heimbert, leaning on his
sword, and looking down on his fallen foe; "he fought
nobly, and in his death he called upon his Allah, whom
he believes to be the true God. We must give him


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
85
honorable burial." He dug a grave with the broad
scimitar of his adversary, laid the corpse in it, covering
it with turf, and knelt in silent, heartfelt prayer for the
soul of the departed.
CHAPTER VII.
WHEN Heimbert rose from his pious duty, his first
glance fell on the smiling Zelinda, who stood by his side;
the second, upon the completely changed scene around.
Grottos and caverns had vanished, and with them
also the half-terrible, half-charming caricatures of trees
and beasts; a gentle hillock of the softest green sloped
on each side from the point where he stood to the sandy
plain. Several little springs of water murmured in re-
freshing beauty, and date-trees overhung the pleasant
spot, all now smiling with simple sweet peace in the
beams of the rising sun.
"6
Lady," said Heimbert to his companion, "you can
now feel how immeasurably greater aud more beautiful
is all that the dear Father of us all has created than
any work of man's highest art. To assist Him in his
gracious works has the Heavenly Gardener, in his
abundant mercy, granted to us, his beloved children,
that we may become thereby better and happier; but
we should be especially careful not to walk in our own
rash, willful ways: this it is which drives us a second
time from Paradise."
"It shall not happen again," said Zelinda, humbly
kneeling before the youth. "Wouldst thou dare, in
8


86
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
this desolate region, where we can meet with no priest
of our faith, to bestow upon me, who am now changed,
without farther delay, the blessing of Holy Baptism?"
Heimbert answered, after a thoughtful pause, "I
hope I may do this: if I am wrong, God will pardon
what is surely done in zeal to bring to Him so worthy
a soul as soon as possible."
They walked side by side to one of the springs of the
oasis, silently praying, and their souls filled with peace-
ful hope. By the time they had reached it, and ad-
dressed themselves to the holy work, the sun had risen
in glory, as if to confirm and strengthen them in their
purpose; so that their beaming countenances looked
joyful and confiding to one another. Heimbert had
not thought of what Christian name he would bestow
upon his neophyte; but as he sprinkled the water over
her, and saw the desert-sea, so solemn in the glow of
morning, he remembered the pious hermit Antonius in
his Egyptian waste, and baptized the lovely convert-
Antonia.
They passed the day in holy conversation, and An-
tonia shewed her friend a little cave where she used to
keep her provisions, when she first dwelt on this oasis.
"For," she said, "the good God is my witness that my
motive for coming hither was to become better ac-
quainted with Him and His works in solitude, without
the least thought of learning magic arts. Then came
the dervish tempting me; and he drew, by his horrible
power, the evil spirits of the desert into a league
against me, and they allured me to make all the things
they shewed me either in dreams or awake."
Heimbert had no scruple to take with him from this


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
87
store whatever of wine and dried fruits would be use-
ful for their journey. Antonia assured him that the
way, which was very well known to her, would lead
them in a few days to the fruitful shore of this water-
less ocean. With the approach of evening coolness
they began their wanderings.
The travelers had almost traversed this pathless
plain, when, one day, they saw a wandering figure at
a very great distance; for in the boundless Sahara
every object is visible an immense way off, if the
whirlwind of the desert raises no sandy columns to in-
tercept the view. This unfortunate man seemed un-
certain which way to direct his steps, sometimes taking
one direction, and then changing to the opposite one.
Antonia's oriental falcon-eyes could discover that it
was no Arab, but a man in knightly garb.
"Oh, dear sister," said Heimbert, with eager joy,
"it must be poor Frederigo seeking thee! For God's
sake, let us hasten, lest he lose us, and perhaps his own
life also, in this immeasurable waste."
They strove with all their power to reach him, but,
owing to the burning sun (for it was now mid-day,)
Antonia could not long support these hasty steps; and
soon the fearful storm-blast raised the cloud of sand,
which completely obscured the object of their search.
With the rising moon they renewed their pursuit,
calling loudly upon Frederigo, and making signal-flags
of their white handkerchiefs tied to their walking-staffs;
but all in vain. The object which had disappeared
remained invisible. Only a few giraffes sprang timidly
before them, and the ostriches crossed their path with
winged speed.


88
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
At last, when morning dawned, Antonia stopped, and
said, "Thou canst not leave me alone, brother, in this
wilderness, and I cannot go one step further. God will
protect the noble Frederigo; for how can a Father for-
sake so excellent a child?"
"The pupil shames the tutor," returned Heimbert, his
sorrowful face brightening into a smile. "We have
done our parts, and may confidently leave the rest to
God, hoping He will assist our helplessness." He spread
his mantle on the sand, that Antonia might rest more
comfortably; but suddenly looked up, exclaiming, "Oh,
God! there is a man quite buried in the sand! oh that
he may not be already dead!"
Immediately he began to sprinkle wine from their
little flask upon his forehead, and to chafe his temples
with it. At length he slowly opened his eyes, and
said, “Oh that the morning-dew had not again fallen
on me, then I should have perished unknown and un-
lamented in this desert, as it must happen at last!"
With these words he closed his eyes again, like one
drunken with sleep; but Heimbert unceasingly con-
tinued his endeavors to restore him, and after some
time the wearied wanderer half raised himself on the
sand.
He looked from Heimbert to his companion, and
again at Heimbert, and suddenly exclaimed, gnashing
his teeth with rage, "It is even so: I shall not perish
in the dim obscurity of forgetfulness; I have lived to
see the success of my rival, and my sister's shame!" He
sprang eagerly to his feet, and rushed on Heimbert with
drawn sword. The German moved neither sword nor
arm, but answered, with a friendly voice, "So exhaust-


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
89
ed as thou art, I cannot possibly take advantage of
thee; besides, I must first place this lady in security."
Antonia, who had looked at first with much emotion
on the angry knight, now stepped between the two,
and said, "Oh, Frederigo, neither misery nor anger
can entirely disfigure thee; but in what has my noble
brother offended thee?"
•
"Brother!" repeated Frederigo, with astonishment.
"Or godfather, or confessor," said Heimbert: "call
me which you please; only call this lady no longer Ze-
linda-her name is Antonia; she is a Christian, and
thy bride!"
Frederigo stood lost in astonishment; but Heimbert's
true-hearted words and Antonia's lovely blushes inter-
preted the enigma for him. He sank before the long-
cherished image of his lady; and here, in this inhospi-
table desert, there bloomed to heaven a flower of love,
gratitude, and faith.
The excitement of this overpowering happiness at
last gave way to bodily fatigue. Antonia reposed her
delicate limbs on the now scorching sand, like a
drooping flower, and slept under the protection of her
lover and chosen brother.
"Sleep thou also," said Heimbert softly to Frederi-
go; "thou must have wandered far, for weariness is
stamped upon thine eyelids, while I am quite fresh,
and will watch beside thee."
"Ah, Heimbert," sighed the noble Castilian, "my
sister is thine, thou messenger of heaven-that is an
understood thing; but for our unfinished quarrel-"
"Certainly," interrupted Heimbert, very gravely,
"thou must satisfy me for every hasty word when we
1
8*


90
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
are again in Spain. But, till then, I beg thou wilt
never mention it, for it is no fit topic of conversation."
Frederigo sorrowfully reposed on the sand, over-
powered by long-resisted sleep; and Heimbert knelt to
thank God for so many gracious blessings already be-
stowed, and for placing so joyful a future before him.
The next day the three travelers reached the border
of the desert, and refreshed themselves with a week's
rest at a little village hard by; which, with its shadow-
ing trees and soft green pastures, seemed like a little
Paradise compared to the joyless Sahara. Frederigo's
condition made this rest particularly necessary; for he
had not once left the desert, and was often compelled to
fight with the wandering Arabs for his subsistence, and
sometimes he had suffered the total want of food and
drink. At length he became so perplexed, that the
stars no longer sufficed to guide him, and he was driven
about, sorrowful and aimless, like the whirlwind of the
desert.
Even now, when he fell asleep after the noon-day
meal, and Antonia and Heimbert watched his slumbers
like two smiling angels, he would suddenly awake in
terror, and look round him with horror, till, rëassured
by their friendly faces, he sunk back again to rest. In
answer to the questions they put to him when he was
fully awake, he said that, in his wanderings, nothing
had been more horrible to him than the deceitful
dreams which sometimes carried him to his own home,
sometimes into the merry camp of his comrades, and
sometimes even into Zelinda's neighborhood, and
doubled, by contrast, the helpless misery of the fright-
ful desert. This it was which always gave to the mo-


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
91
ment of waking something fearful, and even in sleep he
retained a dim consciousness of past sufferings.
"You cannot think," added he, "what it was to be
suddenly banished from the well-known scenes to the
endless waste, where, instead of the long-desired en-
chanting countenance of my beloved, I only saw the
long neck of a hateful camel curiously stretched over
me, and with yet more hateful timidity springing away
as I rose."
This, together with other effects of his misfortunes,
soon passed away from Frederigo's mind, and they con-
tinued their journey to Tunis. Yet the remembrance
of his conduct to Heimbert, and its unavoidable conse-
quences, spread like a cloud over the noble Spaniard's
brow, and softened the natural sternness of his charac-
ter, so that Antonia could cling more closely to him
with her loving heart.
Tunis, which had been the scene of Zelinda's magic
power, and of her zeal against the Christians, now
witnessed her solemn baptism in a newly-consecrated
edifice; and immediately afterwards the three compan-
ions embarked with favorable winds for Malaga.
CHAPTER VIII.
BESIDE the fountain where she had parted from Heim-
bert, Doña Clara sat one evening in deep thought. The
guitar on her arm gave forth a few solitary chords,
which her delicate hand dreamily enticed from it; and
at last they formed themselves into a melody, while


92
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
the following words were murmured from her hal
opened lips:
66
Say who, by Tunis' walls afar,
Where with grim bands of Paynim might
The Spaniard and the German fight,—
From lilies dark with gory dew,
And roses of death's pallid hue,
Say, who hath won the prize of war?
Of Alva ask the tale of fame,
And he two knights of pride will name:
One was my brother, tried and brave;
One, he whom my heart I gave :
And fain I hoped, in joyous light,
To weave their garlands doubly bright.
But sadly o'er my eyes and brow
A widow's veil falls doubly now;
The knights are gone, and ne'er again
Shall they be found 'mid living men."
The guitar was silent, and soft dew-drops fell from
her heavenly eyes. Heimbert, who was hidden behind
the neighboring orange-tree, felt sympathetic tears roll
down his cheeks; and Frederigo, who had led him and
Antonia in by the garden-way, would no longer keep
the cup of joy from the restored ones, but disclosed him-
self, with a dear forin on either arm, as a messenger
from heaven to his sister.
But such moments of high overpowering delight, like
the most precious and long-expected heavenly blessings,
are better imagined than described. It is only doing
an ill service to recount what this one said, and that


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
93
one did. Picture it then to thyself, dear reader, after
thine own fancy, if the two pairs in my story have be-
come dear to thee, and thou art now intimate with
them. If this be not the case, my words would be lost
upon thee. For those, then, who with hearty pleasure
have dwelt on the reunion of sister and lover, I will
proceed with increased satisfaction.
When Heimbert, casting a significant look at Fred-
erigo, wished to retire, after having placed Antonia in
Doña Clara's protection, the noble Spaniard would not
permit him. He detained his companion with the most
courteous and brotherly kindness, entreating him to re-
main till the evening banquet, at which many distin-
guished persons of the family of Mendez were present.
In their presence Frederigo declared that the brave
Heimbert of Waldhausen was Doña Clara's bride-
groom at the same time calling them to witness the
sealing it with the most solemn words, in order that
whatever might afterwards happen, which should seem
inimical to their contract, it might yet remain indisso-
luble. The spectators were somewhat astonished at
these strange precautionary measures, though no one
opposed Frederigo's desire, but unhesitatingly gave
him their word that they would carry out his wishes.
Their ready compliance was greatly caused by Duke
Alva's having, during his late sojourn in Malaga, filled
the whole city with his praises of the two heroic young
captains.
When the generous wines were circulating round the
table, Frederigo stepped behind Heimbert's chair, and
whispered, "If it please you, señor, the moon is now
risen and shining bright as day: I am ready to meet


94
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
you." Heimbert bowed assentingly, and the youths
left the hall, followed by the sweet salutations of their
unsuspecting brides.
As they passed through the blooming gardens, Fred-
erigo said, "Ah! how happily we might have walked
together here, had it not been for my rashness! "
"Yes, truely," answered Heimbert; "but as it has
happened, and cannot now be otherwise, we will pro-
ceed, and only look upon one another as soldiers and
noblemen."
"Even so," replied Frederigo; and they hastened on
to the farthest part of the gardens, where the sound of
their clashing arms might not reach the high banquet-
ing hall.
Silent and enclosed amid dark groves was the chosen
spot. No sounds could be heard there from the joyous
company, no noise from the populous streets of the city.
Only high in heaven the full moon shone down with
bright beams upon the solemn circle. It was the right
place. Both captains drew their shining blades, and
stood opposite to one another, ready for the combat;
but before they began, a kindlier feeling drew them
to each other; they lowered their weapons, and em-
braced in the most brotherly manner, then they tore
themselves away, and the fearful fight began.
They were now no more brothers in arms-no more
friends-no more brothers in law, who raised the sharp
swords against each other. With firm boldness, but
with cool collectedness, they fell upon one another,
whilst each guarded his own breast at the same time.
After a few hot deadly passes, the combatants were
compelled to rest, and they regarded one another with


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
95
increased love; each rejoicing to find his dear comrade
so stout and courageous. Then the fierce strife began
anew.
Heimbert dashed aside Frederigo's sword with his
left hand as it was thrust at his side, but the keen edge
had penetrated through his leathern glove, and the rosy
blood gushed out.
"Halt!" cried Frederigo; and they searched for the
wound; but finding it of no importance, they bound it
up, and with undiminished ardor renewed the fight. It
was not long before Heimbert's sword pierced Frederi-
go's shoulder, and the German, conscious that it had
done so, cried in his turn, "Halt." At first Frederigo
would not acknowledge that there was a wound; but
when the blood streamed forth, he accepted his friend's
assistance. This wound also seeming of no conse-
quence, and the noble Spaniard finding himself strong
enough in arm and hand to wield the sword, they
pursued the deadly contest.
Then they heard a garden-door open, and the tread
as of a horse from the groves. Both combatants stayed
their stern work, and turned to the unwelcome visitant.
The next moment they saw through the slender pines
some one approaching whose bearing and dress shewed
that he was a warrior, mounted on a stately charger;
and Frederigo, as master of the house, said to him,
"Señor, why you have intruded into a strange garden,
we will inquire another time. I shall now only beg of
you to retire from it at once, and to leave me your
name."
"I shall not retire at present," answered the stranger;
"but my name I will gladly tell you. I am the Duke
of Alva."


96
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
At this moment the moonbeams fell upon his stern
pale face that dwelling-place of all that was noble,
and great, and majestic. The two captains bowed low
and sank their arms.
"I surely know you," said Alva, looking at them
fixedly with his dark eyes. "Yes, truly, I do know
you, you two young heroes of the battle of Tunis. God
be blessed and praised, that I find two such noble
warriors alive, whom I had almost given up for lost.
But tell me now, what has turned your brave swords
against each other? I trust you will not object to lay
open before me the cause of this knightly encounter."
They complied with the great duke's behest. Both
the youths related their history, from the evening be-
fore the embarkation till the present moment; whilst
Alva remained motionless before them in deep medita-
tion, looking almost like an equestrian statue.
The captains had already long ended their story,
and the duke still remained silent and motionless in
deep meditation. At last he addressed them in the fol-
lowing manner :—
"May God and His holy word help me, my young
knights, as I tell you, with my best wisdom and truth
of heart, that I believe this affair of yours to be now
perfectly settled. Twice have you fought with one
another on account of the irritating words which
escaped Don Frederigo's lips: and if indeed the slight
wounds which you have hitherto received are not
sufficient, still, your having been comrades in the fight
at Tunis, and Sir Heimbert of Waldhausen having
saved Don Frederigo Mendez' life in the desert, after
he had rescued his bride for him in battle, all this gives


THE TWO CAPTAINS.
97
the knight of Waldhausen the privilege of forgiving an
enemy every offence, to whom he has shewn himself so
well inclined. The old Roman history tells us of two
centurions under the great Julius Cæsar who settled a
dispute, and contracted a hearty brotherly friendship,
from fighting side by side, and delivering one another
out of the midst of the Gallic army. But I affirm that
you two have done more for each other; and therefore
I declare this affair to be entirely settled and at an end.
Sheathe your swords, then, and embrace in my pre-
sence."
Obedient to their general's command, the young
knights for the present put up their swords; but,
anxious lest the slightest shade should fall upon their
honor, they yet delayed the reconciling embrace.
The great Alva looked somewhat sternly upon them,
and said, "Do you suppose, young knights, that I
could desire to save the lives of two soldiers at the ex-
pense of their good name? Sooner than that, I would
ra see you both struck dead at once. But I see
that with such obstinate men, one must proceed to
more effective measures." And leaping from his horse,
which he bound to a tree, he stepped between the two
captains with a drawn sword in his right hand, crying
out, "Whoever takes upon him to deny that the quar-
rel between Sir Heimbert of Waldhausen and Don
Frederigo Mendez is nobly and honorably settled, shall
have to do with Duke Alva for life or death. And
should either of the aforenamed knights object to this,
let him declare it. I stand as champion for my own
opinion."
The youths bowed to their great umpire, and sank
9


98
THE TWO CAPTAINS.
into one another's arms. The duke embraced them
with heartfelt affection, which appeared the more
charming and refreshing, as any outward demonstra-
tion of it was seldom to be seen in this strong-minded
man.
Then he led the reconciled ones back to their brides;
and when these, after the first joyful surprise at the
presence of the much-honored general was over, started
back on perceiving drops of blood on the youths' gar-
ments, the duke said laughingly, "Oh! the brides-elect
of soldiers must not shrink from such medals of honor."
The Duke Alva took on himself to stand as father to
both the happy brides, and to fix the festival of their
betrothal for the very next day. From this time forth
they all lived in undisturbed concord; and when Sir
Heimbert was recalled with his lovely spouse to the
bosom of his native Germany, the two families yet
continued near each other by letters and constant com-
munications. And in after times the descendants of the
lord of Waldhausen boasted their connection with the
family of Mendez, while the latter ever preserved the
tradition of the brave and magnanimous Heimbert of
Waldhausen.
THE END.


?


每​写
​


3
NATALIA,
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT,
AND OTHER TALES.
EDITED BY A LADY.
"Love, quiet, yet flowing deep, as the Rhine among rivers ;
Lasting, and knowing not change-it walketh with Truth and Sincerity."
PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY.
BOSTON:
JORDAN AND WILEY 121, WASHINGTON ST.
MDCCCXLV.


BOSTON:
PRINTED BY FREEMAN AND BOLLES,
WASHINGTON STREET.


PREFACE.
IN commencing this series of works, which is called "THE
FIRESIDE LIBRARY OF POPULAR READING," we propose to
offer such tales of truth and fiction as are well adapted to the
cultivation of good affections and true thoughts. The editor
enters upon her task and makes her selections with much
interest, and cannot but hope they will be approved.
The tales in this first number are various in their styles-
"Blanche Rose," illustrating the affections with touching
power; Aslauga's Knight," (by the author of Undine)
manifests that enduring love which is truly self-sacrificing,
and will last forever; and "Natalia," which illustrates that
charming modesty so delightful in the female character, and
that manliness, and true respect for woman, in the other sex,
so admirable and praiseworthy.
66


of SOL
2015
SOTT


NATALIA.
MICHAEL FEDOROWITZ, Czar of all the Russias, was son to
Philaretes, bishop of Rostow; his mother was a lineal descend-
ant of the ancient sovereigns of Russia. Demetrius, a tyran-
nical usurper, sent Philaretes ambassador to Poland, where he
was detained prisoner, under pretence that his countrymen
were, not long before, in rebellion against king Uladislaus.
This outrage was unquestionably sanctioned by Demetrius;
for he confined the wife of Philaretes in a nunnery. But
the boyars entertained such a high veneration for the bishop
and his spouse, that they unanimously elected their son,
Michael Federowitz, to be their emperor, though he was not
more than fifteen years of age. Philaretes, being exchanged
for some Polish captives, was by his son appointed patriarch
of the church; and with great wisdom and prosperity assisted
the inexperience of the youthful czar in exercising the func-
tions of royalty.
Michael Federowitz governed Russia thirty-three years;
and the firmness of his administration, tempered by leniency,
established his power; while happiness and peace, long un-
known, endeared him to the people. Desirous of choosing a
consort on the ground of personal attachment, the czar gave
orders to collect at Moscow a vast number of fat cattle and
poultry, and to provide game and fish, to be frozen and stored
in the commencement of winter, with all other necessaries for
1


6
NATALIA.
entertaining a crowd of guests at the palace. At the same
time he issued proclamations throughout the empire, inviting,
or in other words, commanding all the young and beautiful
maidens in his dominions to repair to the court. Michael
visited his fair subjects as an easy guest at private parties; or
presided at royal feasts and balls for their amusement. When
the weather permitted a return to their respective homes, they
were dismissed with gifts beseeming regal munificence; and
the lady who was honored by preference was informed of her
elevation by the czar sending to her a superb wedding robe.
The lady's name was Strechen. Her father was ploughing
his farm when he received the announcement that he was des-
tined to be father-in-law to the emperor.
Alexius succeeded his father Michael; and though unfor-
tunate in his wars with Sweden, he was a prince of eminent
genius. He promoted agriculture; introduced silk and linen
manufactures; and endeavored to excite in his boyars a taste
for the arts and sciences; giving them an example in his own
studies, and patronizing literature, with all the branches of
useful knowledge which had travelled to Northern Europe.
He instituted and published a code of laws, still referred to in
the jurisprudence of Russia; and he greatly improved his
army by establishing a regular system of discipline. He chose
his first wife in the same manner as his father, and was mar-
ried in his seventeenth year. In ten years he was a widower;
and twenty months had not elapsed, when, before the fairest
in his extensive realms were submitted to his election, his
affections were fixed upon a beautiful orphan named Natalia
Kesilowna Narishkin. This historical trait d'amour, which
has more the air of romance than of the sober pace appropri
ate to hymenial engagements in real life, is little known out of
Russia, unless by foreigners who have made curious inquiries
concerning the ancient manners of that singular region.
Alexius purposed to win the heart of an amiable woman for


THE CZAR IN SEARCH OF A WIFE.
7
his own sake; and with this aim laid aside every mark of
extrinsic advantages, while he made a circuit some consider-
able way from Moscow, or visited the middle classes in the
city, as an herbalist in search of medicinal plants; a natural-
ist anxious to explore the salt-pits of Astracan; or one of the
literati in quest of MSS. of ancient history, said to be pre-
served in the huts of the boors. Sometimes the czar passed
as a trader in morocco leather from Kasan, or a learned
teacher belonging to one of the numerous schools established
in that country at a very early period. A small band of trusty
attendants followed at short distances; and without confiding
his ulterior views, he gathered from them much information
concerning the families he visited, and regarding the actual
state of his people. Many months rolled on in these incognito
perigrinations, and our royal Celebs in search of a wife almost
despaired of success, when the accomplishment of his most
sanguine hopes appeared in the form of transcendent beauty
and intellectual graces, seldom known in a barbarous age.
A gentleman, named Matweof, had been often serviceable.
by furnishing suggestions for the improvement of various
schemes adopted by the czar to correct the rugged ignorance
of his subjects; and having returned to Moscow, the sovereign
recollected that he ought to bestow on this worthy man of
science the distinction of a visit, though his family consisted
only of sons. While revolving these thoughts as he walked
alone on the banks of the Moskwa, near the city, he saw
Matweof within call, and accosted him. After the first sal-
utations, the czar said, " Matweof, if thou hast no strangers
at thy house, I will dine with thee to-day."
66
"My liege, I have not even my sons at home; they are dis-
persed to different occupations: I have only my wife and the
sweet child of a deceased friend." 'Depend on me as your
guest; but mark me, you must not tell even your wife my real
name. Let me pass as a merchant." "A merchant of Kasan,


NATALIA.
so please your highness?" "Be it so; and take care to treat
me as such only."
Matweof, when overtaken by the czar, was on his way to
ask a merchant of Kasan to spend the day with him; and had
desired his wife to prepare for his reception. It may be sup-
posed that he deferred this engagement, and the czar was
received by Madame Matweof as the expected trader. He
was ushered to the dining-hall by Matweof; and his surprise
and pleasure were unbounded, when he saw a young and
beautiful girl, towering far above the stature of his hostess.
"I fancied your ward was a child," said the reputed merchant
of Kasan. "She is not fifteen," answered the bustling host-
ess; " and the longer she is tractable to good advice as a
child, the wiser must she be when we regard her as a woman.
I was good eight years older than she is now, before I gave
my vows to Matweof; and till an hour within the change of
my condition I was called a child."
The czar employed his eyes more than his ears while Mad-
ame Matweof gave him a specimen of the wisdom acquired
in her protracted childhood. We shall leave his majesty to
admire the blushing Natalia, and try to give the courteous
reader some idea of her protectress. Madame Matweof was
a low-sized, corpulent person, but very lively and active; and
more than commonly addicted to fluency of language, as she
piqued herself not a little upon the smattering of knowledge
she had acquired on a diversity of topics, during thirty-four
years, in domesticating with the most intelligent gentleman in
the vast city of Moscow. The courtly stranger paid to her all
due attention, yet his eyes frequently reverted to the lovely
features of her ward, who, in the simple garb of her own
country, dazzled his imagination more than the proudest that
in embroidery, ermine, and jewels, sparkled within the pre-
cincts of the Kremlin.
The fine contour of Natalia's face was partly shaded by curl-


COSTUME OF NATALIA.
9
ing ringlets of pale brown hair, encircled by a wreath of ivy
leaves, intermingled with a few garden flowers. The crown
of her head was covered by a cap of black velvet, which at the
same age probably had been worn by her grandmother, for it
was rather threadbare, and the band of gold lace surrounding
the middle of this coiffure, was evidently tarnished by unspar-
ing time. A short robe of fine white linen, almost after the
model of a chemise, with long and wide sleeves, had these
drawn up to the shoulders by strips of taffety of the same
texture, with a rose-colored sash, which, compressing the linen
robe, shewed the elegance of her waist. The skirts of her
linen robe hung down half way over a many-colored and chec-
quered petticoat, reaching no further than the calf of her leg,
and displaying the delicate symmetry of her ancles and feet.
The hem of the checquered petticoat had a border of old lace,
seemingly coeval with the bandeau on her black velvet cap.
Her stockings of bright blue, were topped with circles of rose
color, corresponding to her sash; and her shoes of Kasan
leather, were tied with strips of rose-colored taffety. The
checquered silk handkerchief on her neck had a faded resem-
blance to the hues of which the rest of her dress was compos-
ed; and three rows of glass beads hung on her bosom, with an
image of St. Nicholas, in silver, of curious antique workman-
ship, appended to the upper row of beads-this image being
apparently the only relic of former affluence undecayed by the
altered fortunes of her house. How exquisite must have been
the personal and mental attractions which subdued the heart
of a mighty potentate accustomed to all the glare of Asiatic
magnificence, and now beholding Natalia in a garniture of pov-
erty that his lowest attendant would have disdained to wear!
The czar, according to his masquerade designation, was
habited in a loose coat of brown cloth, drawn about his loins
by a girdle of rich purple silk. His long and wide trowsers
were of orange-colored Indian cotton; and he wore Kasan
1*


10
NATALIA.
leather boots without stockings. A silver-hilted scimetar was
suspended by a shoulder-belt of yellow leather on one side;
and on the other under his arm, a pouch of lynx skin, fastened
by silver clasps, contained his money or other portable valu-
ables. His shirt was nearly shaped like Natalia's chemise
robe, and left open at the throat, to allow full scope to his
ample beard, a shade darker than Natalia's ringlets. His
figure was tall and handsome; and his regular manly features
expressed a benevolent yet energetic character.
66
An old man and woman brought every dish to the door of
the dining hall, and, under the direction of Madame Matweof,
they were placed on the table by Natalia. I pray you to be
seated, my thrice-welcome friend," said Matweof; "the
beluga cools fast." "The dinner appears to be excellent,"
replied the guest; "but its relish will be lost to me, if these
ladies stand aloof, as they seem to intend." "Never mind
us," said Madame Matweof; "I have no platters at home ex-
cept those you see on the table. Neighbor Dubrowski bor
rowed them yesterday for her daughter's wedding feast; and
all our servants are lending her a helping hand but our old
gardener and his wife. I sent this forenoon for a few of my
platters, and one or two of my women; however, my good
neighbor said it would be inconvenient to spare them, and it
would be ill luck to change her plan. I have no faith in silly
omens; but would not vex an old friend by making her wait
till you have done."
The czar was gratified by this unceremonious proof that
Matweof had not divulged his secret; and he gaily responded,
"What signifies the want of platters, my good lady? You
can eat with your husband, and the fair damsel will confer a
zest on the nice viands by condescending to share them with
me. "Indeed I am not in the least anxious for dinner,"
replied Natalia ; "and, as the servants are absent, shall with
pleasure wait on you and my friends." "Yet I warrant you,"
19
I
T


THE REPAST.
11
interposed Madame Matweof, "that if you unroll a musty
parchment with historical records from the south-east of your
country, she would be eager to devour it with all her eyes.
Natalia smiled, and the czar rising, drew her gently to a
seat beside him. Having prevailed with her to partake of the
repast, he looked to Matweof, saying, "So your fair ward can
read and write? these are rare attainments!" Madame Mat-
weof, more prompt in verbiage than her husband, replied:
"To be sure! she reads and writes so well that she might be
chief secretary to the czar; (St. Nicholas bless and prosper
him!) and yet her distaff produces more yarn than any girl I
know. She wastes not a moment from dawn to a late hour at
night, and was a mere infant when she learnt to use her pen!"
Natalia's blushes in vain deprecated these encomiums; but
Madame Matweof persisted, till in a low voice she mildly in-
terrupted her protectress, saying, "I owe all to you, who had
the goodness to teach me every kind of work; and my indul-
gent guardian who took the trouble of directing me to use the
pen.” —“My dear child!" said Matweof, "you gave me no
trouble, since you really learned faster than I could find leisure
to afford you instruction."
The czar, enraptured, eyed the eloquent looks of Natalia,
in this affectionate discussion of her early studies. Matweof
observed that he ate very little, but would not presume to
urge the royal appetite; while the assiduous hostess, quite
ignorant of his high quality, upbraided her husband for neg-
lecting his guest, and stretching her large arms, and pro-
truding her broad face over the table, heaped his plate with
choice bits. Her amplitude of countenance was the more
remarkable in contrast with the delicate features of Natalia;
and the matronly costume of Russia in the sixteenth and seven-
teenth centuries required the hair to be gathered upon the sum-
mit of the head, and wholly covered by a black velvet cap.
Madame Matweof's cap was of massive and new velvet, with


12
NATALIA.
two bandeaus of broad and brilliant gold lace. The rest of
her attire resembled that of Natalia, except that the materials
were much finer, and of recent date. Matweof saw that his
wife taxed the czar's good-nature by frequent interruptions to
his conversation with Natalia: he therefore overcame his ha-
bitual taciturnity and engaged her in talking to himself; but
the exhaustless tide of her volubility was sometimes diverted
from the conjugal auditor, to recommend the rye-cakes and
honey, the metheglin and rye-brandy, to the merchant of Ka-
san; and she could hardly suppress her impatient wonder that
he would neither eat nor drink, and yet loitered over his plat-
ter and cup as if he never wished to leave the table. In truth
he was intent upon taking the dimensions of Natalia's under-
standing, and penetrating every recess of her disposition, by
agitating a great variety of subjects, on which she spoke with
artless freedom and unassuming intelligence, little aware of the
impression she made, or of the identity of him who listened
and looked as if he could be riveted to her side. Madame
Matweof at length said she must see what the old folks were
about and beckoning to Natalia, they disappeared together.
"That sweet maiden must be a treasure to thee," said the
:
czar.
"She is the balsam of my declining years. Now that my
sight is impaired she reads to me; and when the shades of
evening suspend the delights of study, she assists my failing
memory by recapitulating what we have gathered from the
stores of the learned."
"Thou shouldst transfer her to the cherishing bosom of a
good husband; while young and pliant she can accommodate
herself to his peculiarities - and all men, more or less, have
peculiar habits."
"My liege, she is too good for a sick nurse, to tend the
couch of an old fellow that has married her to secure for him-
self her patient diligent cares; and may my child go unmar-


THE PROPOSITION.
13
ried to the grave rather then bind herself to a young giddy pate,
wildly enamored of her beauty, who will worship her for some
weeks and then behave as if he had purchased a bond-woman,
and not a wife. I will not leave her unportioned; and I pray
she may live single, if she is not destined for a spouse that can
appreciate her merits."
"I will help thee in searching for a tender guardian of
Natalia's happiness; but I should not like to find her averse
to my choice, and partial to another."
"I am certain she has never bestowed a thought upon any
of the sex. She knows my fears of making her over to a tyrant,
and is strongly prepossessed against matrimony. She is per-
fectly satisfied to take refuge in a convent when my wife and
I are no more."
"Good. I shall be thy guest again in four days, and in the
mean time let us omit no exertion in behalf of the fair Nata-
lia."
In the evening Matweof called for the real merchant of
Kasan, and found a note from him, purporting that he had
received a sudden call to deliver a large quantity of goods, but
he had taken upon himself to introduce the son of a wealthy
correspondent at Astracan. The young gentleman was intrust-
ed to deliver this note, and promised to dine with Matweof
the following day.
Natalia's estimation of the supposed trader of Kasan was
greatly enhanced by a comparison with the awkward effecta-
tion of this self-important coxcomb. He was at no pains to
conceal that he knew himself to be very handsome; and spoke
of his father's opulence, as if he inherited from it all kinds of
talents and virtues. He quaffed rye-brandy till he became
intoxicated, and so familiar that Natalia left the room. He
insisted upon seeing her again, and made down-right proposals
of marriage. Madame Matweof considered him to be a match
too splendid to be lost, and compelled Natalia to return and


14
NATALIA.
hear him plead for himself. She answered with a decided
rejection; and Matweof internally applauded her good sense
and spirit, though he deemed it right to leave her at entire
liberty to accept or decline the offer.
The czar came on the fourth day as he had promised.
Matweof took care to intercept him by the way, to mention
that his wife and Natalia believed the young blade from
Astracan to be the son of his partner. Alexius said he
would answer them in conformity to that notion, if they
asked any questions. Matweof was insensibly led to com-
municate the precipitate wooing of the conceited youth, and
Natalia's inflexible rejection; with which the czar seemed
more pleased than he allowed himself to declare, especially
when informed that the fair damsel withstood the solicitations
of Madame Matweof in behalf of the worthy admirer; and
with respectful determination had affirmed she was ready to
go to a convent, but could not give herself to a man whose
foibles must excite her contempt. During several weeks the
czar was a frequent visiter; and his attentions to Natalia
were received with a timid embarrassment, from which he
drew the most delightful inferences. One day after dinner
he took from his bosom an embroidered silk handkerchief,
and, unfolding it, shewed three strings of amber beads, to
which was affixed a golden image of St. Nicholas. He pre-
sented these tempting gifts to Natalia, and made an effort
to untie the faded wrap on her neck. She recoiled with an
indignant suffusion overspreading her face, and in a tremu-
lous voice said:
―
"If such must be the terms of your present, take it back.
Even our good and great sovereign lord the czar would not
find me passive under an insult so degrading."
"You will pardon a stranger to the customs of your pro-
vince, fair damsel, if he has unwittingly trespassed against
them; and be not angry though I add that you know not how
the czar might prevail, unless you had seen him."


A SEVERE TRIAL.
15
"Natalia, my dear child," said Matweof, "you will surely
accept the apology of a stranger."
-
Natalia wiped away her tears and smiled, and the czar
questioned -"Have you seen the czar, fair damsel?"
"Never, never, but I shall never cease to invoke blessings
on his name."
"What has he done to deserve such fervent predilections?
Have you owed him any benefit?
""
"He has done more for Russia than Iwan Basilides, who
took three hundred cart-loads of silver from the duke of Novo-
gorod, and conquered his province. The spoils of the enemy
enriched only the court circle: our gracious czar hath made
the mass of his people wiser and better, therefore they are
much happier."
"Yet you would not allow him to uncover your lovely
neck?"
"He is too truly the father of all his subjects to require
from a poor girl the sacrifice of her self-respect."
"I now commend your spirit, my child," said Madame
Matweof; but it is proper to tell the stranger gentleman, that
it is only the privilege of an accepted lover to untie the knot
he attempted to loose."
“I humbly crave forgiveness," said the czar.
"Indeed, you have cruelly vexed me," answered Natalia.
"I esteemed you as one of the best men in the world — always
excepting our sovereign lord Alexius."
-
"Now, you are ready to be in tears again. Come away,
and bustle about, to forget an affront which was not intended."
So speaking, Madame Matweof retired with Natalia; and
the czar said, "it is time to ask thee, Matweof, if thou hast
found a mate for thy pretty apprehensive dove?"
"None, my liege, except the young Eastern she has dis-
missed."
"I have been more successful. I know an admirer, who
will take Natalia without any dowry but her own charms."


16
NATALIA.
"God and St. Nicholas reward your highness! My utmost
gratitude is a poor offering, but it is ardent and sincere. I
shall not presume with inquiries, since your highness will not
throw away the girl who has been honored by your appro-
bation."
"Why should I keep thee in suspense, my good Matweof?
The husband I have destined for Natalia is myself. If she
will be mine, our nuptials shall be celebrated without delay."
Matweof fell at the feet of his sovereign with incoherent
bursts of gratitude. The czar desired him to rise and com-
pose his mind; but Matweof said he was now master of his
own feelings, and besought his liege lord to grant him a boon.
Alexius encouraged him to ask with all freedom and Matweof
resumed" My sovereign lord! since a faithful and devoted
servant is permitted, he most humbly implores your highness
not to decide finally in favor of Natalia, until the noble and
beautiful of the empire shall present themselves at the Kremlin,
in obedience to a royal summons. That I desire the elevation
and happiness of my ward cannot be doubted; but it is my
duty first to consider the prospects of my most gracious lord.
All Russia will be gratified to have the daughters of the land
entitled to a chance for the most exalted distinction; and if
Natalia be still preferred, she may still wait the royal man-
date."
The czar leaned his forehead on his hand some minutes,
and then replied; "It is not by a mandate — it is by her free
consent I desire to win Natalia. I wish to talk with her in
private; and before you send her hither, let me satisfy your
disinterested loyalty by telling you I shall assemble the beauties
of the empire, as you have wisely counselled."
Matweof brought Natalia to the soi-disant merchant, and
left her. The merchant declared his love, and with modest
grace was accepted, yet in broken and scarcely audible words.
After an effusion of tender transport, he subjoined, "But


THE ROYAL PROCLAMATION.
17
there is news in the city to-day: it is reported that all the
beauties of the empire are to be invited to the court by proc-
lamation. My Natalia has required a month to prepare for
the change of her condition; and perhaps before that tedious
time expires, she may be raised to the throne, and if bereaved
of her, life will be hateful to me. If you can resign the
chance for royalty, and give me your hand before the public.
call for appearing at court, it would save me unutterable bit-
terness of anxiety."
"Never shall Natalia hesitate to spare you anxiety. This
poor hand is yours-yours only."
"You shall see or hear of me to-morrow, loveliest, most
amiable Natalia-mine, mine forever! Dearest, I am urged
by business to tear myself from you, and for your own precious
sake I must despatch the affair."
Early next morning the royal proclamation was heard in all
quarters of the city; and the czar sent messengers throughout
his dominions, with the same summons to the young and
lovely, when he returned to the palace. The heralds in all
parts of Moscow performed this office each third hour, during
seven days. The merchant came not to see Natalia; and she
never suspected that the sounds of the proclamations came
from him. He often sent for Matweof, and his heart smote
him when informed that Natalia hoped against hope, and
though uneasy and dejected, never reflected harshly upon the
seeming inconstancy of her lover. When Madame Matweof
blamed him, she calmly asserted her confidence in his honor
and faith, and was assured he could explain all that seemed
mysterious in his conduct. She was very reluctant to appear
at the court; but the czar must be obeyed. He sent her
attire for the occasion; and she wore the embroidered ker-
chief, the amber beads, and golden image of St. Nicholas,
given to her by the merchant of Kasan. Matweof attended
her to the palace. The gorgeous magnificence of the scene at
2


18
NATALIA.
first bewildered her senses; and she was stunned by the loud
reverberation of some hundred female voices, speaking at once
in the lofty apartment. But hers was not a mind that could be
wholly shaken from its poise, and her thoughts were soon col-
lected, and fixed upon the merchant of Kasan. She was
roused from a reverie by a flourish of horns, the ancient royal
music of Russia. This music was produced in the same style
which at the present day is continued in the emperor's band,
and in the band of the regiment of guards. The emperor's
band consists of three hundred horns, each, by the interven-
tion of the air, vibrating a single note. The performers have
no written music; but practice has given them such precision
in the modulations, that at some distance the effect may be
mistaken for a grand orchestra of instruments. Three pro-
longed flourishes announced the approach of the czar. Deep
silence awaited his appearance. Natalia breathed quick with
a variety of confused sensations, in which a dread of being
torn from her lover still predominated. She sat as much out
of view as could be permitted by the etiquette of the presence-
chamber; however, she was obliged to comply with the gen-
eral order, that the young ladies should stand in the front row,
and their friends close behind them. The folding doors were
thrown open, and in robes of state, embroidered with gold,
his girdle and the hilt of his scimetar studded with gems, and
a jewelled diadem on his head, the czar entered, followed by
a multitude of boyars and gentlemen. He smiled and talked
to the fair circle as he passed along; yet his eyes were man-
ifestly seeking an object. When he perceived Natalia, he bent
his steps towards her, and Matweof whispered to her, "Look
up, my child; it is against all rules to cast down your eyes
when the sovereign draws near. You must look at him or be
guilty of contumelious demeanor."

Natalia was all obedience to her guardian. She directed her
regards to the awful figure of supremacy, and instantly recog-


THE VOWS.
19
nized her plighted lover; but among the highest born and the
most beautiful, dared she to flatter herself his heart would
acknowledge her? Her energies had been impaired by the
uncertainty of her fate since the reputed merchant bade her
farewell; her spirits were fluttered by the dazzling novelties
around her; and now, to discover the ruler of her destiny in a
sphere so immeasurably above her, was overpowering-her
sight and consciousness failed. Matweof was carrying her
out in a swoon, when the czar sent an officer of his household
to shew the way to a private chamber, to which he hastened by
a shorter
passage. "Shut the door, Matweof," he said, "and
open the lattice when you resign to me your lovely burthen.
Now, stand by to witness the renewal of my vows.
"3
The air soon recovered Natalia. She attempted to rise
from the embraces of the czar, and to apologize for giving so
much trouble.
"Do not deny me the innocent joy of holding you in my
arms, most beloved Natalia," said the czar. "Say you forgive
the cruel proofs of attachment and fidelity I have exacted. I
am greatly to blame, and will make all atonement with my
heart, my hand, my throne, my whole life: they are yours, my
only love. Your color comes and goes, my charmer let the
air circulate round these swelling veins in your neck. May
your Alexius now untie the handkerchief?"
—
Natalia's face beamed with the most animated suffusion, as
in low accents she breathed a modest assent.
The czar
pressed her lips, her glowing cheeks, and neck; while Natalia,
abashed, confused, and shrinking from these impassioned
caresses, implored him to release her; but her transported
lover soothed her coy sensibility by the fondest protestations;
and concluded by addressing Matweof:- "My worthy friend,
bear witness that your cherished Natalia is my affianced con-
sort. I must now leave her, and return to the hall.
her thither when she has regained composure."
Conduct


20
NATALIA.
Natalia soon reappeared in the brilliant circle. A crowd of
attendants brought dried fruits. cakes of roses, apricots, and
peaches, from Damascus; figs and comfits, from Turkey;
transparent apples, called navlineh, from Astracan; liqueurs
and numberless delicacies, from the southwestern regions of
Europe. The ladies were dismissed with suitable presents,
and the bridal robe was sent to Natalia Kesilowna Narishkin.
Never did the sovereign of all the Russias repent having
shared his throne with the foster-child of Matweof's bounty.
Her congenial mind sweetened his domestic hours, and invigo-
rated his public labors to diffuse useful knowledge. She as-
siduously inculcated the peculiar attributes that ennoble the
female character, and was herself a bright example of the vir-
tues and attainments she recommended. To sum up, in a few
words, her claim upon the everlasting reverence of her
country - Natalia Kesilowna Narishkin was the mother of
Peter the Great. She died, in childbed, when Peter was in
his eighth year.
Alexius survived her no more than five
months. After the decease of his parents, his artful, ambi-
tious sister Sophia, deprived Peter of all the opportunities for
education, with the design to unfit him for assuming the reins
of government yet his extraordinary capacity surmounted all
impediments; and he was self-taught in acquirements, seldom
equalled, with all the aids of instruction, in the most enlight-
ened era of science. By his stupendous powers and mighty
efforts, he raised his empire from barbarism to progressive
civilization; and the darker shades that mingle with the
splendor of his achievements should be imputed to the cruel
sister, whose selfish policy endeavored to corrupt and debase
his disposition.
It only remains for us to record that Natalia repaid the
kindness of Matweof, with a grateful veneration truly filial.
He and his sons were appointed to places of trust, and acquit-
ted themselves with talent, indefatigable attention, and faith-
1


NATALIA.
21
2*
ful zeal.
ex-
Their attachment to Peter, the son of Natalia,
posed them to the rancorous hatred of Sophia. She extir-
pated their race; but they died, as they had lived, with an
irreproachable good name. - Bowring's Cabinet.


CONJUGAL LOVE.
A VISION.
WHILE deeply musing on celestial themes,
And sweetly wrapt in beatific dreams,
One morn, a voice from yonder shining spheres,
In heavenly warblings, thrill'd upon my ears;
And, soft descending from his azure height,
Thus spoke the holy messenger of light:
"We have perceived, O man! thou dost employ
Such thoughts as angels in the skies enjoy,
And that to thee the knowledge may be given
To tell frail mortals of the joys of heaven.
Now to thy view, upborne on wings of air,
We'll full display a sainted nuptial pair.”
When, lo! appear'd, like some resplendent star,
In yon ethereal plains, a radiant car;
Still softly driving, near the earth it drew,
Unshaken by the winds that gently blew;
Through azure fields, by snowy steeds, was drawn
This diamond chariot, brilliant as the dawn;
In which were placed two forms divinely bright,
Deck'd in the dazzling robes of heavenly light;


CONJUGAL LOVE.
23
Whilst in each hand was held a milk-white dove,
Delightful emblem of unvaried love!
And as they gently waved each shining crest,
The angels me with melting voice address'd :
"Wilt thou, O mortal man, and child of care,
That we to thee should nigher still appear ?
But lest we come too near, alas! take heed,
The sad event thou well mayst dread indeed!
Thy powers may all be lost, unhappy youth,
In the celestial blaze of LOVE and TRUTH,
Derived from yonder skies divinely pure,
Which shall through all eternity endure."
I bow'd assent, the chariot forward prest,
While they with looks of mildness still address'd:
"We are a pair descended from above,
Who know the pure delights of wedded love,
Supremely happy and in youthful prime,
Though thousand years have past, since yonder clime
Kindly received us from the earthly stage,
Where youth just wrote our names upon her page."
To view the holy twain I fondly dared,
In whom such heavenly majesty appear'd;
The husband in a robe of orange hue,
And velvet shoes; and hose of azure blue,
And vest adorn'd with many a glittering gem,
And roseate plume, and sparkling diadem,
And silvery girdle reaching round his breast,


24
CONJUGAL LOVE.
Bedeck'd with radiant pearl was richly drest.
From his refulgent eyes the holy blaze,
Derived from wisdom, darted purest rays;
While in his face beam'd all the smiles of youth,
And all the splendor of celestial truth;
Thus did the sainted son of joy appear,
Who whilom dwelt in this sublunar sphere.
What pencil now, alas! shall vainly dare
Portray the beauties of the matchless fair?
Can all the artist's magic power express
The splendid colorings of her sumptuous dress?
Or form, with mimic hues, that placid mien,
That look of heaven, that beauteous smile serene?
Ah! no
to paint the nymph of light and love
His fond attempt must ineffectual prove.
Her sparkling hair, like threads of living gold,
Hung o'er her brows in many a graceful fold;
And each fair lock that gently play'd around,
Pellucid gems and glittering jaspers crown'd
Her necklace, brilliant as the star of light,
Was form'd of amethysts and rubies bright,
Beneath whose kindling gleam a rosary hung,
With chrysolites and richest jewels strung;
Her lucid robe, more white than Alpine snow,
Was deck'd with brilliants of the purest glow;
A golden zone about her waist was bound,
And diamond bracelets clasp'd her arms around.
―


CONJUGAL LOVE.
25
In her sweet aspect that delight was given
Which spotless innocence must feel in heaven;
Her eyes, resplendent as the rising day,
Shone forth with holy virtue's brighest ray;
And as I on her gaz'd with sweet surprise,
My raptured soul just bursting from my eyes,
She turn'd aside those blazing orbs of light,
Whose heavenly splendor pained my feeble sight,
And with the soothing voice of purest love,
They spoke, and pointed to the realms above:
In tender converse join'd this happy pair,
While each soft accent warbled in my ear;
Such melting sounds till then ne'er cheer'd my breast,
I ne'er till then believ'd a pair so blest.
At length they said, in soft and gentle tone,
"We are recall'd to yonder blissful throne"
When, mounting in their car, they took their way,
More swift than light, to realms of endless day.
Halcyon Luminary.


ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
BY THE AUTHOR OF UNDINE.
CHAPTER I.
MANY years ago there lived, in the island of Fühnen, a noble
knight, called Froda, the friend of the Skalds, who was so
named, because he not only offered free hospitality, in his fair
castle, to every renowned and noble bard, but likewise
strove, with all his might, to discover those ancient songs and
tales, and legends, which, in Runic writings, or elsewhere,
were still to be found; he had even made some voyages to
Iceland in search of them, and had fought many a hard battle
with the pirates of those seas for he was also a right valiant
knight, and he followed his great ancestors, not only in their
love of song, but also in their bold deeds of arms. Although
he was still scarcely beyond the prime of youth, yet all the
other nobles in the island willingly submitted themselves to
him, whether in council or in war; nay, his renown had even
been carried, ere now, over the sea, to the neighboring land of
Germany.
One bright autumn evening, this honor-loving knight sat be-
fore his castle, as he was often wont to do, that he might look
far and wide over land and sea, and that he might invite any
travellers who were passing by, as was his custom, to share in
his noble hospitality. But on this day, he saw little of all that
he was accustomed to look upon; for on his knees there lay
an ancient book, with skilfully and richly painted characters,
-
1


THE LAY.
27
which a learned Icelander had just sent to him across the sea:
it was the history of Aslauga, the fair daughter of Sigurd,
who, at first, concealing her high birth, kept goats among the
simple peasants of the land, clothed in mean attire; then, in
the golden veil of her flowing hair, won the love of King Rag-
nar Lodbrog; and, at last, shone brightly on the Danish
throne, as his glorious queen, till the day of her death.
To the knight Froda, it seemed as though the gracious
Lady Aslauga rose in life and birth before him, so that his
calm and steadfast heart, true, indeed, to ladies' service, but
never yet devoted to one particular female image, burst forth
in a clear flame of love for the fair daughter of Sigurd.
"What matters it," thought he to himself,
"that it is more
than a hundred years since she disappeared from earth?
She sees so clearly into this heart of mine- and what more
can a knight desire? wherefore she shall henceforth be my
honored love, and shall inspire me in battle and in song."
And therewith he sang a lay on his new love, which ran in
the following manner :
"They ride over hill and dale apace
To seek for their love the fairest face
They search through city and forest glade
To find for their love the gentlest maid
They climb wherever a path may lead
To seek the wisest dame for their meed.
Ride on, ye knights; but ye never may see
What the light of song has shown to me:
Loveliest, gentlest, and wisest of all,
Bold be the deeds that her name shall recall;
What though she ne'er bless my earthly sight?
Yet death shall reveal her countenance bright.
Fair world, good night! Good day, sweet love!
Who seeks here in faith shall find above."
-
"Such purpose may come to good," said a hollow voice,
near the knight; and when he looked round, he saw the form
of a poor peasant woman, so closely wrapped in a grey man-


28
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
tle that he could not discern any part of her countenance.
She looked over his shoulder on the book, and said, with a
deep sigh, "I know that story well; and it fares no better
with me than with the princess of whom it tells." Froda
looked at her with astonishment. "Yes, yes," pursued she,
with strange becks and nods; "I am the descendant of the
mighty Rolf, to whom the fairest castles, and forests, and
fields of this island, once belonged; your castle and your do-
mains, Froda, amongst others, were his. We are now cast
down to poverty; and because I am not so fair as Aslauga,
there is no hope that my possessions will be restored to me;
and therefore I am fain to veil my poor face from every eye."
It seemed that she shed warm tears beneath her mantle. At
this Froda was greatly moved, and begged her, for God's
sake, to let him know how he could help her, for that he was
a descendant of the famous northern heroes of the olden time;
and, perhaps, yet something more than they — namely, a good
Christian. "I almost think," murmured she, from beneath
her covering, "that you are that very Froda whom men call
the Good, and the friend of the Skalds, and of whose generos-
ity and mildness such wonderful stories told. If it be so,
there may be help for me. You need only give up to me the
half of your fields and meadows, and I should be in a condi-
tion to live, in some measure, such a life as befits the de-
scendant of the mighty Rolf." Then Froda looked thought-
fully on the ground; partly because she had asked for so very
much; partly also because he was considering whether she
could really be descended from the powerful Rolf. But the
veiled form said, after a pause, “I must have been mistaken,
and you are not indeed that renowned, gentle-hearted Froda:
for how could he have doubted so long about such a trifle?
But I will try the utmost means. See now! for the sake of
the fair Aslauga, of whom you have both read and sung—for
the sake of the honored daughter of Sigurd, grant my request !"


THE APPARITION.
29
-
a
Then Froda started up eagerly, and cried, "Let it be as you
have said!" and gave her his knightly hand to confirm his
words. But he could not grasp the hand of the peasant
woman, although her dark form remained close before him.
A secret shudder began to run through his limbs, whilst sud-
denly a light seemed to shine forth from the apparition
golden light in which she became wholly wrapped; so that
he felt as though Aslauga stood before him in the flowing veil
of her golden hair, and smiling graciously on him. Trans-
ported and dazzled, he sank on his knees. When he rose up
once more, he only saw a cloudy mist of autumn spreading
over the meadow, fringed at its edges 'with lingering evening
lights, and then vanishing far over the waves.
The knight
scarcely knew what had happened to him. He returned to
his chamber, buried in thought, and sometimes feeling sure
that he had beheld Aslauga; sometimes, again, that some gob-
lin had risen before him with deceitful tricks, mocking in
spiteful wise the service which he had vowed to his dead
mistress. But henceforth wherever he roved, over valley or
forest or heath, or whether he sailed upon the waves of the
sea, the like appearances met him. Once he found a lute
lying in a wood, and drove a wolf away from it; and when
sounds burst from the lute without its being touched, a fair
child rose up from it, as of old Aslauga herself had done. At
another time he would see goats clambering among the high-
est cliffs by the sea-shore; and it was a golden form who
tended them. Then, again, a bright queen, resplendent in a
dazzling bark, would seem to glide past him, and salute him
graciously; and if he strove to approach any of these, he
found nothing but cloud, and mist, and vapor. Of all this
many a lay might be sung. But so much he learnt from
them all, that the fair lady Aslauga accepted his service,
and that he was now in deed and in truth become her knight.
-
3


30
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
Meanwhile the winter had come and gone. In northern
lands this season never fails to bring to those who understand
and love it many an image full of beauty and meaning, with
which a child of man might well be satisfied, so far as earthly
happiness can satisfy, through all his time on earth. But
when the spring came glancing forth with its opening buds
and flowing waters, there came also bright and sunny tidings
from the land of Germany to Fühnen.
There stood on the rich banks of the Maine, where it pours
its waters through the fertile land of Franconia, a castle of
almost royal magnificence, whose orphan mistress was a rela-
tion of the German emperor. She was named Hildegardis ;
and was acknowledged far and wide as the fairest of maidens.
Therefore her imperial uncle wished that she should wed
none but the bravest knight who could anywhere be met with.
Accordingly he followed the example of many a noble lord
in such a case, and proclaimed a tournament, at which the
chief prize should be the hand of the peerless Hildegardis, un-
less the victor already bore in his heart a lady wedded or be-
trothed to him; for the lists were not to be closed to any
brave warrior of equal birth, that the contest of strength and
courage might be so much the richer in competitors.
Now the renowned Froda had tidings of this from his Ger-
man brethren in arms; and he prepared himself to appear at
the festival. Before all things, he forged for himself a splen-
did suit of armor; as, indeed, he was the most excellent
armorer of the north, far-famed as it is for skill in that art.
He worked the helmet out in pure gold, and formed it so
that it seemed to be covered with bright flowing locks, which
called to mind Aslauga's tresses. He also fashioned on the
breastplate of his armor, overlaid with silver, a golden image,
in half relief, which represented Aslauga in her veil of flow-
ing locks, that he might make known, even at the beginning
of the tournament "This knight, bearing the image of a
-


A BROTHER KNIGHT.
31
lady upon his breast, fights not for the hand of the beautiful
Hildegardis, but only for the joy of battle, and for knightly
fame." Then he took out of his stables a beautiful Danish
steed, embarked it carefully on board a vessel, and sailed
prosperously to the opposite shore.
CHAPTER II.
In one of those fair beech-woods, which abound in the fer-
tile land of Germany, he fell in with a young and courteous
knight of delicate form, who asked the noble northman to
share the meal which he had invitingly spread out upon the
greensward, under the shade of the pleasantest boughs.
Whilst the two knights sat peacefully together at their repast,
they felt drawn towards each other; and rejoiced when, on
rising from it, they observed that they were about to follow
the same road. They had not come to this good understand-
ing by means of many words; for the young knight Edwald
was of a silent nature, and would sit for hours with a quiet
smile upon his lips, without opening them to speak.
But
even in that quiet smile there lay a gentle, winning grace;
and when, from time to time, a few simple words of deep
meaning sprang to his lips, they seemed like a gift deserving
of thanks. It was the same with the little songs which he
sang ever and anon; they were ended almost as soon as be-
gun but in each short couplet there dwelt a deep and win-
ning spirit, whether it called forth a kindly sigh or a peaceful
smile. It seemed to the noble Froda as if a younger brother
rode beside him or, even a tender, blooming son. They
travelled thus many days together; and it appeared as if
their path were marked out for them in inseparable union:
and much as they rejoiced at this, yet they looked sadly at


32
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
each other whenever they set out afresh or where cross-roads
met, on finding that neither took a different direction; nay, it
seemed at times as if a tear gathered in Edwald's downcast
eye.
It happened on a time, that at their hostelry they met an
arrogant, overbearing knight, of gigantic stature and powerful
frame, whose speech and carriage proved him to be not of
German but foreign birth. He appeared to come from the
land of Bohemia. He cast a contemptuous smile on Froda,
who, as usual, had opened the ancient book of Aslauga's his-
tory, and was attentively reading in it. "You must be a
ghostly knight?" he said inquiringly; and it appeared as if a
whole train of unseemly jests were ready to follow. But
Froda answered so firmly and seriously with a negative, that
the Bohemian stopped short suddenly; as when the beasts,
after venturing to mock their king the lion, are subdued to
quietness by one glance of his eye. But not so easily was the
Bohemian knight subdued; rather the more did he begin to
mock young
Edwald for his delicate form and for his silence
all which he bore for some time with great patience; but
when at last the stranger used an unbecoming phrase, he
arose, girded on his sword, and, bowing gracefully, he said,
"I thank you, sir knight, that you have given me this opportu-
nity of proving that I am neither a slothful nor unpractised
knight; for only thus can your behavior be excused, which
otherwise must be deemed most unmannerly.
Are you
ready?"
With these words he moved towards the door; the Bohe-
mian knight followed, smiling scornfully; while Froda was
full of care for his young and slender companion, although his
honor was so dear to him that he could in no way interpose.
But it soon appeared how needless were the northman's
fears. With equal vigor and address did Edwald assault his
gigantic adversary, so that to look upon, it was almost like one


THE COMBAT.
33
of those combats between a knight and some monster of the
forest, of which ancient legends tell. The issue too was not
unlike. While the Bohemian was collecting himself for a de-
cisive stroke, Edwald rushed in upon him, and, with the force
of a wrestler, cast him to the ground. But he spared his con-
quered foe, helped him courteously to rise, and then turned to
mount his own steed. Soon after he and Froda left the host-
elry, and once more their journey led them on the same path
as before.
-
own
name
"From henceforth this gives me pleasure," said Froda,
pointing with satisfaction to their common road. "I must
to you, Edchen "
he had accustomed himself, in
loving confidence, to call his young friend by that childlike
-"I must own to you, that hitherto, when I have
thought that you might perhaps be journeying with me to
the tournament held in honor of the fair Hildegardis, a heavi-
ness came over my heart. Your noble knightly spirit I well
knew, but I feared lest the strength of your slender limbs
might not be equal to it. Now I have learned to know you
as a warrior who may long seek his match; and God be
praised if we still hold on in the same path, and welcome our
earliest meeting in the lists!"
But Edwald looked at him sorrowfully, and said, "What
can my skill and strength avail, if they be tried against you,
and for the greatest earthly prize, which one of us alone can
win? Alas! I have long foreboded with a heavy heart the
sad truth that you are also journeying to the tournament o
the fair Hildegardis."
-
"Edchen," answered Froda, with a smile, "my gentle,
loving youth, see you not that I already wear on my breast-
plate the image of a liege lady? I strive but for renown in
arms and not for your fair Hildegardis."
66
My fair Hildegardis!" answered Edwald, with a sigh.
"That she is not, nor ever will be,- - or should she,
ah!
3*


34
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
Froda, it would pierce your heart. I know well the north-
land faith is deep-rooted as your rocks, and hard to dissolve
as their summits of snow; but let no man think that he can
look unscathed into the eyes of Hildegardis. Has not she,
the haughty, the too haughty maiden, so bewitched my tran-
quil, lowly mind, that I forget the gulf which lies between us,
and still pursue her; and would rather perish than renounce
the daring hope to win that eagle spirit for my own?"
"I will help you to it, Edchen," answered Froda, smiling
still. "Would that I knew how this all-conquering lady
looks! She must resemble the Valkyrien of our heathen fore-
fathers, since so many mighty warriors are overcome by her."
Edwald solemnly drew forth a picture from beneath his
breastplate, and held it before him. Fixed, and as if en-
chanted, Froda gazed upon it, with glowing cheeks and
sparkling eyes; the smile passed away from his countenance,
as the sunlight fades away from the meadows before the
coming darkness of the storm.
"See you not now, my noble comrade," whispered Edwald,
"that for one of us two, or perhaps for both, the joy of life is
gone?"
"Not yet," replied Froda, with a powerful effort; "but
hide your magic picture, and let us rest beneath this shade.
You must be somewhat spent with your late encounter,
and a
strange weariness oppresses me with leaden weight." They
dismounted from their steeds, and stretched themselves upon
the ground.
The noble Froda had no thought of sleep; but he wished
to be undisturbed, whilst he wrestled strongly with himself,
and strove, if it might be, to drive from his mind that image of
fearful beauty. It seemed as if this new influence had already
become a part of his very life, and at last a restless dreamy
sleep did indeed overshadow the exhausted warrior.
fancied himself engaged in combat with many knights,
He


A VISION.
35
whilst Hildegardis looked on smiling from a richly adorned
balcony; and just as he thought he had gained the victory,
the bleeding Edwald lay groaning beneath his horse's feet.
Then again it seemed as if Hildegardis stood by his side in
a church, and they were about to receive the marriage bless-
ing. He knew well that this was not right, and the "yes,"
which he was to utter, he pressed back with resolute effort
into his heart, and forthwith his eyes were moistened with
burning tears. From yet stranger and more bewildering
visions, the voice of Edwald at last awoke him. He raised
himself up, and heard his young companion saying, courte-
ously, as he looked towards a neighboring thicket, "Only re-
turn, noble maiden; I will surely help you, if I can; and I
had no wish to scare you away, but that the slumbers of my
brother in arms might not be disturbed by you." A golden
gleam shone through the branches as it vanished.
"For heaven's sake, my faithful comrade," cried Froda,
"to whom are you speaking, and who has been here by me?"
"I cannot myself rightly understand," said Edwald.
"Hardly had you dropped asleep, when a figure came forth
from the forest, closely wrapped in a dark mantle. At first
I took her for a peasant. She seated herself at your head;
and though I could see nothing of her countenance, I could
well observe that she was sorely troubled, and even shedding
tears. I made signs to her to depart, lest she should disturb
your sleep; and would have offered her a piece of gold, sup-
posing that poverty must be the cause of her deep distress.
But my hand seemed powerless, and a shudder passed through
me, as if I had entertained such a purpose towards a queen.
Immediately glittering locks of gold waved here and there be-
tween the folds of her close-wrapped mantle, and the thicket
began almost to shine in the light which they shed.
youth," said she then, "you love truly, and can well under-
stand how a lofty woman's heart burns in keenest sorrow
"Poor


36
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
when a noble knight, who vowed himself to be her own, with-
draws his heart, and, like a weak bondman, is led away to
meaner hopes." Hereupon she arose, and, sighing, disap-
peared in yonder thicket. It almost seemed to me, Froda, as
though she uttered your name."
"Yes, it was me she named," answered Froda;
" and not
in vain she named me. Aslauga, thy knight comes, and en-
ters the lists, and all for thee and thy reward alone! At the
same time, my Edchen, we will win for you your haughty
bride." With this he sprang upon his steed, full of the proud
joy of former times; and when the magic of Hildegardis'
beauty, dazzling and bewildering, would rise up before him,
he said smiling, "Aslauga!" and the sun of his inner life
shone forth again cloudless and serene.
CHAPTER III.
FROM a balcony of her castle, on the Maine, Hildegardis
was wont to refresh herself, in the cool of the evening, by
gazing on the rich landscape below, but gazing more eagerly
on the glitter of arms, which often came in sight from many a
distant road; for knights were approaching singly, or with a
train of followers, all eager to prove their courage and their
strength in striving for the high prize of the tournament.
She was in truth a proud and high-minded maiden, -per-
haps more so than became even her dazzling beauty and her
princely rank. As she now gazed with a proud smile on the
glittering roads, a damsel of her train began the following
lay: -
The joyous song of birds in spring
Upon the wing
Doth echo far through wood and dell,
And freely tell


THE SONG.
37
Their treasures sweet of love and mirth,
Too gladsome for this lowly earth.
The gentle breath of flowers in May,
O'er meadows gay,
Doth fill the pure and balmy air
With perfume rare;
Still floating round each slender form,
Though scorched by sun, or torn by storm.
But every high and glorious aim,
And the pure flame
That deep abiding in my heart
Can ne'er depart,
Too lofty for my falt'ring tongue,
Must die with me, unknown, unsung.
"Wherefore do you sing that song, and at this moment?"
said Hildegardis, striving to appear scornful and proud,
though a deep and secret sadness was plainly enough seen to
overshadow her countenance. "It came into my head una-
wares," replied the damsel," as I looked upon the road by
which the gentle Edwald, with his pleasant lays, first ap-
proached us; for it was from him I learnt it. But seems it
not to you, my gracious lady, and to you too, my companions,
as if Edwald himself were again riding tha way towards the
castle?" "Dreamer!" said Hildegardis, scornfully, — and
yet could not for some space withdraw her eyes from the
knight, till at length, with an effort, she turned them on
Froda, who rode beside him, saying: "Yes, truly, that
knight is Edwald; but what can you find to notice in the
meek-spirited, silent boy? Here, fix your eyes, my maidens,
on this majestic figure, if you would behold a knight indeed."
She was silent. A voice within her, as though of prophecy,
said, "Now the victor of the tournament rides into the court-
yard;" and she, who had never feared the presence of any
human being, now felt humbled, and almost painfully awed,
when she beheld the northern knight.
At the evening meal the two newly arrived knights were


38
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
placed opposite to the royal Hildegardis. As Froda, after the
northern fashion, remained in full armor, the golden image of
Aslauga gleamed from his silver breastplate full before the
eyes of the haughty lady. She smiled scornfully, as if con-
scious that it depended upon her will to drive that image from
the breast and from the heart of the stranger knight. Then
suddenly a clear golden light passed through the hall, so that
Hildegardis said, "O, the keen lightning!" and covered her
eyes with both her hands. But Froda looked into the dazzling
radiance with a joyful gaze of welcome. At this Hildegardis
feared him yet more, though at the same time she thought,
"This loftiest and most mysterious of men must be born for
me alone." Yet could she not forbear, almost against her will,
to look from time to time in friendly tenderness on the poor
Edwald, who sat there silent, and with a sweet smile seemed
to pity and to mock his own suffering and his own vain hopes.
When the two knights were alone in their sleeping chamber,
Edwald looked for a long time in silence into the dewy
balmy night. Then he sang to his lute:
A hero wise and brave,
A lowly tender youth,
Are wandering through the land
In steadfast love and truth.
The hero, by his deeds,
Both bliss and fame hath won,
And still, with heartfelt joy,
The faithful child looked on.
But Froda took the lute from his hands, and said, "No,
Edchen, I will teach you another song; listen ! –
There's a gleam in the hall, and like morning's light
Hath shone upon all her presence bright.
Suitors watch as she passes by -
-
She may gladden their hearts by one glance of her eye;
But coldly she gazeth upon the throng,
And they that have sought her may seek her long.


ANCIENT BOOK OF LEGENDS.
39
66
She turns her away from the richly clad knight,
She heeds not the words of the learned wight;
The prince is before her in all his pride,
But other the visions around her that glide.
'Then tell me, in all the wide world's space,
Who may ere win that lady's grace?
In sorrowful love there sits apart
The gentle squire who hath her heart;
They all are deceived by fancies vain,
And he knows it not who the prize shall gain.
Edwald thrilled. "As God wills," said he, softly to himself.
"But I cannot understand how such a thing could be. "As
God wills," repeated Froda. The two friends embraced each
other, and soon after fell into a peaceful slumber.
Some days afterwards, Froda sat in a secluded bower of the
castle-garden, and was reading in the ancient book of his
lovely mistress Aslauga. It happened at that very time that
Hildegardis passed by. She stood still, and said, thoughtfully,
"Strange union that you are of knight and sage, how comes
it that you bring forth so little out of the deep treasures of
your knowledge? And yet I think you must have many a
choice history at your command, even such as that which now
lies open before you; for I see rich and bright pictures of
knights and ladies painted amongst the letters." "It is, indeed,
the most surpassing and enchanting history in all the world,"
said Froda; but you have neither patience nor thoughtfulness
to listen to our wonderful legends of the north."
Why think you so?" answered Hildegardis, with that
pride which she rejoiced to display towards Froda, when she
could find courage to do so; and, placing herself on a stone
seat opposite, she commanded him at once to read something
to her out of that fair book.
Froda began; and in the very effort which he made to
change the old heroic speech of Iceland into the German
tongue, his heart and mind were stirred more fervently and
solemnly. As he looked up from time to time, he beheld the


40
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
countenance of Hildegardis beaming in ever-growing beauty
with joy, wonder, and interest; and the thought passed through
his mind whether this could indeed be his destined bride, to
whom Aslauga herself was guiding him.
Then suddenly the characters became strangely confused;
it seemed as if the pictures began to move, so that he was
obliged to stop. While he fixed his eyes with a strong effort
upon the book, endeavoring to drive away this strange con-
fusion, he heard a well-known sweetly solemn voice, which
said, "Leave a little space for me, fair lady. The history
which that knight is reading to you relates to me; and I hear
it gladly."
Before the eyes of Froda, as he raised them from his book,
sat Aslauga in all the glory of her flowing golden locks beside
Hildegardis, on the seat. With tears of affright in her eyes,
the maiden sank back and fainted. Solemnly, yet graciously,
Aslauga warned her knight with a motion of her fair right
hand, and vanished.
"What have I done to you," said Hildegardis, when recov-
ered from her swoon by his care, "what have I done to you,
evil-minded knight, that you call up your northern spectres
before me, and wellnigh destroy me through terror of your
magic arts?" "Lady," answered Froda, " may God help me,
as I have not called hither the wondrous lady who but now
appeared to us. But now her will is known to me, and I
commend you to God's keeping."
With that he walked thoughtfully out of the bower. Hilde-
gardis fled in terror from the gloomy shade, and, rushing out
on the opposite side, reached a fair open grass-plot, where
Edwald, in the soft glow of twilight, was gathering flowers;
and, meeting her with a courteous smile, offered her a nosegay
of narcissus and pansies.


PREPARATION FOR THE TOURNAMENT.
41
CHAPTER IV.
AT length the day fixed for the tournament arrived; and a
distinguished noble, appointed by the German emperor, ar-
ranged all things in the most magnificent and sumptuous guise
for the solemn festival. The field-combat opened wide, and
fair, and level; thickly strewn with the finest sand, so that
both man and horse might find sure footing; and, like a pure
field of snow, it shone forth from the midst of the flowery
plain. Rich hangings of silk from Arabia, curiously embroid-
ered with Indian gold, adorned with their various colors the
lists enclosing the space, and hung from the lofty galleries
which had been erected for the ladies and nobles who were to
behold the combat. At the upper end, under a canopy of
majestic arches richly wrought in gold, was the place of the
Lady Hildegardis. Green wreaths and garlands waved grace-
fully between the glittering pillars in the soft breezes of July.
And with impatient eyes the multitude, who crowded beyond
the lists, gazed upwards, expecting the appearance of the
fairest maiden of Germany; and were only at times drawn to
another part by the stately approach of the combatants. 0,
how many a bright suit of armor, how many a silken richly-
embroidered mantle, how many a lofty waving plume was here
to be seen! The splendid troop of knights moved within the
lists, greeting and conversing with each other, as a bed of
flowers stirred by a breath of wind: but the flower-stems
had grown to lofty trees, the yellow and white flower-leaves.
had changed to gold and silver, and the dew-drops to pearls
and diamonds. For whatever was most fair and costly, most
varied and full of meaning, had these noble knights collected
in honor of this day. Many an eye was turned on Froda, who,
without scarf, plume, or mantle, with his shining silver breast-
plate, on which appeared the golden image of Aslauga, and
with his well-wrought helmet of golden locks, shone, in the
4


42
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
midst of the crowd, like polished brass. Others, again, there
were, who took pleasure in looking at the young Edwald; his
whole armor was covered by a mantle of white silk, embroid-
ered in azure and silver, as his whole helmet was concealed
by a waving plume of white feathers. He was arrayed with
almost feminine elegance; and yet the conscious power with
which he controlled his fiery, snow-white steed, made known
the victorious strength and manliness of the warlike stripling.
In strange contrast appeared the tall and almost gigantic
figure of a knight clothed in a mantle of black glossy bear-skin,
bordered with costly fur, but without any ornament of shining
metal. His very helmet was covered with dark bear-skin;
and instead of plumes, a mass of blood-red horsehair hung
like a flowing mane profusely on every side. Well did Froda
and Edwald remember that dark knight; for he was the
uncourteous guest of the hostelry: he also seemed to remark
the two knights; for he turned his unruly steed suddenly
round, forced his way through the crowd of warriors, and,
after he had spoken over the enclosure to a hideous bronze-
colored woman, sprang with a wild leap across the lists, and,
with the speed of an arrow, vanished out of sight. The old
woman looked after him with a friendly nod. The assembled
people laughed as at a strange masquing device; but Edwald
and Froda had their own almost shuddering thoughts concern-
ing it, which, however, neither imparted to the other.
The kettle-drums rolled, the trumpets sounded, and led by
the aged duke, Hildegardis advanced, richly apparelled, but
more dazzling through the brightness of her own beauty. She
stepped forward beneath the arches of the golden bower, and
bowed to the assembly. The knights bent low, and the feeling
rushed into many a heart, "There is no man on earth who can
deserve a bride so queenly." When Froda bowed his head, it
seemed to him as if the golden radiance of Aslauga's tresses
floated before his sight; and his spirit rose in joy and pride
that his lady held him worthy to be so often reminded of her.


THE TOURNAMENT.
43
And now the tournament began. At first the knights strove
with blunted swords and battle-axes; then they ran their
course with lances man to man; but at last they divided into
two equal parties, and a general assault began, in which every
one was allowed to use at his own will either sword or lance.
Froda and Edwald equally surpassed their antagonists, as
(measuring each his own strength and that of his friend) they
had foreseen. And now it must be decided by a single com-
bat with lances, to whom the highest prize of victory should
belong. Before this trial began, they rode slowly together into
the middle of the course, and consulted where each should
take his place. "Keep you your guiding-star still before your
sight," said Froda, with a smile; "the like gracious help will
not be wanting to me." Edwald looked round astonished for
the lady of whom his friend seemed to speak; but Froda went
on. "I have done wrong in hiding aught from you; but after
the tournament you shall know all. Now lay aside all needless
thoughts of wonder, dear Edchen, and sit firm in your saddle;
for I warn you that I shall run this course with all my might:
not my honor alone is at stake, but the far higher honor of
my lady."
"So also do I purpose to demean myself," said Edwald with
a friendly smile. They shook each other by the hand, and
rode to their places.
Amidst the sound of trumpets they met again, running their
course with lightning speed; the lances shivered with a crash,
the horses staggered, the knights, firm in their saddles, pulled
them up, and rode back to their places. But as they pre-
pared for another course, Edwald's white steed snorted in wild
affright, and Froda's powerful chestnut reared up foaming.
It was plain that the two noble animals shrunk from a se-
cond hard encounter ; but their riders held them fast with spur
and bit, and firm and obedient, they again dashed forward at
the second call of the trumpet. Edwald, who by one deep,


44
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
ardent gaze on the beauty of his mistress had stamped it afresh
on his soul, cried aloud, at the moment of encounter,
"Hilde-
gardis!" and so mightily did his lance strike his valiant adver-
sary, that Froda sank backwards on his steed, with difficulty
keeping his seat in his saddle, or holding firm in his stirrups;
whilst Edwald flew by unshaken, lowered his spear to salute
Hildegardis as he passed her bower, and then, amidst the loud
applause of the multitude, rushed to his place, ready for the
third course. And, ah! Hildegardis herself, overcome by
surprise, had greeted him with a blush and a look of kindness;
it seemed to him as if the overwhelming joy of victory were
already gained. But it was not so; for the valiant Froda,
burning with noble shame, had again tamed his affrighted
steed, and chastising him sharply with the spur for his share in
this mischance, said in a low voice, "Beautiful and beloved
lady, shew thyself to me, the honor of thy name is at stake.”
To every other eye it seemed as if a golden rosy-tinted sum-
mer's cloud was passing over the deep-blue sky; but Froda
beheld the heavenly countenance of his lady, felt the waving
of her golden tresses, and cried, "Aslauga!" The two
rushed together, and Edwald was hurled from his saddle far
upon the dusty plain.
-
Froda remained for a time motionless, according to the laws
of chivalry, as though waiting to see whether any one would
dispute his victory, and appearing on his mailed steed like
some lofty statue of brass. All around stood the multitude
in silent wonderment. When at length they burst forth into
shouts of triumph, he beckoned earnestly with his hand, and
all were again silent. He then sprang lightly from his saddle,
and hastened to the spot where the fallen Edwald was striving
to rise. He pressed him closely to his breast, led his snow-
white steed towards him, and would not be denied holding the
stirrups of the youth whilst he mounted. Then he bestrode
his own steed, and rode by Edwald's side towards the golden


THE VANQUISHED KNIGHT.
45
bower of Hildegardis, where with lowered spear and open
visor, he thus spoke: "Fairest of all living ladies, I bring
you here Edwald your knightly bridegroom, before whose
lance and sword all the knights of this tournament have fallen
away, I only excepted, who can make no claim to the choicest
prize of victory, since I, as the image on my breastplate may
shew, already serve another mistress."
The duke was even now advancing towards the two warriors,
to lead them into the golden bower; but Hildegardis restrained
him with a look of displeasure, saying immediately, while her
cheeks glowed with anger, "Then you seem, Sir Froda, the
Danish knight, to serve your lady ill; for even now you openly
styled me the fairest of living ladies."
"That did I," answered Froda, bending courteously; "be-
cause my fair mistress belongs to the dead."
A slight shudder passed at these words through the assembly,
and through the heart of Hildegardis; but soon the anger of
the maiden blazed forth again, and the more because the most
wonderful and excellent knight she knew had scorned her for
the sake of a dead mistress.
"I make known to all," she said, with solemn earnestness,
"that according to the just decree of my imperial uncle, this
hand can never belong to a vanquished knight, however noble
and honorable he may otherwise have proved himself. As the
conqueror of this tournament, therefore, is bound to another
service, this combat concerns me not; and I depart hence as
I came, a free and unbetrothed maiden."
The duke seemed about to reply; but she turned haughtily
away, and left the bower. Suddenly a gust of wind shook the
green wreaths and garlands, and they fell untwined and rust-
ling behind her. In this the people, displeased with the pride
of Hildegardis, thought they beheld an omen of punishment,
and with jeering words noticed it as they departed.


46
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
CHAPTER V.
THE two knights had returned to their apartments in deep
silence. When they arrived there, Edwald caused himself to
be disarmed, and laid every piece of his fair shining armor
together, with a kind of tender care, almost as if he were bury-
ing the corpse of a beloved friend. Then he beckoned to his
squires to leave the chamber, took his lute on his arm, and
sang the following song to its notes:
"Bury them, bury them out of sight,
For hope and fame are fled;
And peaceful resting and quiet night
Are all now left for the dead."
"You still stir up my anger against your lute," said Froda.
"You had accustomed it to more joyful songs than this. It
is too good for a passing-bell, and you too good to toll it. I
tell you yet, my young hero, all will end gloriously."
Edwald looked awhile with wonder in his face, and he
answered kindly: "Beloved Froda, if it displeases you, I will
surely sing no more." But at the same time he struck a few
sad chords, which sounded infinitely sweet and tender. Then
the northern knight, much moved, clasped him in his arms, and
said: "Dear Edchen, sing and say and do whatever pleases you;
it shall ever rejoice me. But you may well believe me, for I
speak not this without a spirit of presage-
- your sorrow shall
change; whether to death or life I know not, but great and
overpowering joy awaits you." Edwald rose firmly and cheer-
fully from his seat, seized his companion's arm with a strong
grasp, and walked forth with him through the blooming alleys
of the garden into the balmy air.
-
At that very hour, an aged woman, muffled in many a cover-
ing, was led secretly to the apartment of the lady Hildegardis.
The appearance of the dark-complexioned stranger was myste-


THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER.
47
rious; and she had gathered round her for some time, by
many feats of jugglery, a part of the multitude returning home.
from the tournament, but had dispersed them at last in wild
affright. Before this happened, the tire-woman of Hildegardis
had hastened to her mistress, to entertain her with an account of
the rare and pleasant feats of the bronze-colored woman. The
maidens in attendance, seeing their lady deeply moved, and
wishing to banish her melancholy, bade the tire-woman bring
the old stranger hither. Hildegardis forbade it not, hoping
that she should thus divert the attention of her maidens, while
she gave herself up more deeply and earnestly to the varying
imaginations which flitted through her mind.
The messenger found the place already deserted; and the
strange old woman alone in the midst, laughing immoderately.
When they questioned her, she did not deny that she had all
at once taken the form of a monstrous owl, announcing to the
spectators, in a screeching voice, that she was the Devil — and
that every one upon this rushed screaming home.
The tire-woman trembled at the fearful jest, but durst not
return to ask again the pleasure of Hildegardis, whose discon-
tented mood she had already remarked. She gave strict charge
to the old woman, with many a threat and promise, to demean
herself discreetly in the castle; after which she brought her in
by the most secret way, that none of those whom she had ter-
rified might see her enter.
The aged crone now stood before Hildegardis, and winked
to her, in the midst of her low and humble salutation, in a
strangely familiar manner, as though there were some secret
between them. The lady felt an involuntary shudder, and
could not withdraw her gaze from the features of that hideous
countenance, hateful as it was to her. The curiosity which
had led the rest to desire a sight of the strange woman was by
no means gratified: for she performed none but the most com-
mon tricks of jugglery and related only well-known tales, so


48
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
that the tire-woman felt wearied and indifferent: and, ashamed
of having brought the stranger, she stole away unnoticed.
Several other maidens followed her example; and as these
withdrew, the old crone twisted her mouth into a smile, and
repeated the same hideous confidential wink towards the lady.
Hildegardis could not understand what attracted her in the
jests and tales of the bronze-colored woman; but so it was,
that in her whole life she had never bestowed such attention
on the words of any one. Still the old woman went on and on,
and already the night looked dark without the windows; but
the attendants who still remained with Hildegardis had sunk
into a deep sleep, and had lighted none of the wax tapers in
the apartment.
Then, in the dusky gloom, the dark old crone rose from the
low seat on which she had been sitting, as if she now felt herself
well at ease, advanced towards Hildegardis, who sat as if spell-
bound with terror, placed herself beside her on the purple
couch, and embracing her in her long dry arms with a hateful
caress, whispered a few words in her ear. It seemed to the
lady as if she uttered the names of Froda and Edwald; and
from them came the sound of a flute, which, clear and silvery
as were its tones, seemed to lull her into a trance. She could
indeed move her limbs, but only to follow those sounds, which
like a silver net-work floated round the hideous form of the old
woman. She moved from the chamber, and Hildegardis
followed her through all her slumbering maidens, still singing
softly as she went, "Ye maidens, ye maidens, I wander by
night."
Without the castle, accompanied by squire and groom, stood
the gigantic Bohemian warrior; he laid on the shoulders of the
crone a bag of gold so heavy that she sank half whimpering,
half laughing, on the ground; then lifted the entranced Hilde-
gardis on his steed, and galloped with her silently into the ever-
deepening gloom of night.


THE GUIDING LIGHT.
49
"All ye noble lords and knights, who yesterday contended
gallantly for the prize of victory and the hand of the peerless
Hildegardis, arise, arise! saddle your steeds, and to the rescue!
The peerless Hildegardis is carried away!"
Thus proclaimed many a herald through castle and town, in
the bright red dawn of the following day; and on all sides.
rose the dust from the tread of knights and noble squires along
those roads by which so lately, in the evening twilight, Hilde-
gardis in proud repose had gazed on her approaching suitors.
Two of them, well known to us, remained inseparably to-
gether; but they knew as little as the others whether they had
taken the right direction; for how and when the adored lady
could have disappeared from her apartments, was still to the
whole castle a fearful and mysterious secret.
Edwald and Froda rode as long as the sun moved over their
heads, unwearied as he; and now when he sank in the waves
of the river, they thought to win the race from him, and still
spurred on their jaded steeds. But the noble animals staggered
and panted, and the knights were constrained to grant them
some little refreshment in a grassy meadow. Secure of bring-
ing them back at their first call, their masters removed both
bit and curb, that they might be refreshed with the green pas-
ture, and with the deep blue waters of the Maine, while they
themselves reposed under the shade of a neighboring thicket
of alders.
And deep in the cool dark shade, there shone, as it were,
a mild but clear sparkling light, and checked the speech of
Froda, who at that moment was beginning to tell his friend the
tale of his knightly service to his sovereign lady, which had
been delayed hitherto, first by Edwald's sadness, and then by
the haste of their journey. Ah, well did Froda know that lovely
golden light! "Let us follow it, Edchen," said he in a low
tone," and leave the horses awhile in their pasture." Edwald
in silence followed his companion's advice. A secret voice,


50
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
half sweet, half fearful, seemed to tell him that here was the
path, the only right path to Hildegardis. Once only he said
in astonishment, "Never before have I seen the evening glow
shine on the leaves so brightly." Froda shook his head with
a smile, and they pursued in silence their unknown track.
When they came forth on the other side of the alder-thicket
upon the bank of the Maine, which almost wound round it,
Edwald saw well that another glow than that of evening was
shining on them, for dark clouds of night already covered the
heavens, and the guiding light stood fixed on the shore of the
river. It lit up the waves, so that they could see a high woody
island in the midst of the stream, and a boat on the hither side
of the shore fast bound to a stake. But on approaching, the
knights saw much more; a troop of horsemen, of strange
and foreign appearance were all asleep, and in the midst of them,
slumbering on cushions, a female form in white garments.
"Hildegardis!" murmured Edwald to himself, with a smile,
and at the same time he drew his sword in readiness for the
combat as soon as the robbers should awake, and beckoned to
Froda to raise the sleeping lady, and convey her to a place of
safety. But at this moment something like an owl passed
whizzing over the dark squadron; and they all started up with
clattering arms and hideous outcries. A wild unequal combat
arose in the darkness of night, for that beaming light had
disappeared. Froda and Edwald were driven asunder, and
only at a distance heard each other's mighty war-cry. Hilde-
gardis, startled from her magic sleep, uncertain whether she
were waking or dreaming, fled bewildered and weeping bit-
terly into the deep shades of the alder-thicket.
-


HILDEGARDIS RESCUED.
51
CHAPTER VI.
FRODA felt his arm grow weary, and the warm blood was
flowing from two wounds in his shoulder; he wished so to lie
down in death that he might rise up with honor from his bloody
grave to the exalted lady whom he served. He cast his shield
behind him, grasped his sword-hilt with both hands, and rushed
wildly, with a loud war-cry, upon the affrighted foe. Instantly he
heard some voices cry, "It is the rage of the northern heroes
which has come upon him." And the whole troop were
scattered in dismay, while the exhausted knight remained
wounded and alone in the darkness.
Then the golden hair of Aslauga gleamed once more in the
alder-shade; and Froda said, leaning, through weariness, on
his sword, "I think not that I am wounded to death; but
whenever that time shall come, O beloved lady, wilt thou not
indeed appear to me in all thy loveliness and brightness?"
A soft "Yes" breathed against his cheek, and the golden
light vanished.
But now Hildegardis came forth from the thicket, half faint-
ing with terror, and said feebly," Within is the fair and fright-
ful spectre of the north-without is the battle; - O merciful
heaven! whither shall I go?"
Then Froda approached to soothe the affrighted one, to
speak some words of comfort to her, and to inquire after Edwald;
but wild shouts and the rattling of armor announced the
return of the Bohemian warriors. With haste Froda led the
maiden to the boat, pushed off from the shore, and rowed her
with the last effort of his failing strength towards the island
which he had observed in the midst of the stream. But the
pursuers had already kindled torches, and waved them spark-
ling here and there: by this light they soon discovered the


52
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
boat; they saw that the dreaded Danish knight was bleeding,
and gained fresh courage for their pursuit. Hardly had Froda
pushed the boat to the shore of the island, before he perceived
a Bohemian on the other side in another skiff; and soon after-
wards the greater number of the enemy embarked to row
towards the island. "To the wood, fair maiden," he whispered,
as soon as he had landed Hildegardis on the shore :
"there
conceal yourself, whilst I endeavor to prevent the landing of
the robbers." But Hildegardis, clinging to his arm, whispered
again, "Do I not see that you are pale and bleeding? and
would you have me expire with terror in the dark and lonely
clefts of this rock? Ah! and if your northern gold-haired
spectre were to appear again and seat herself beside me!
Think you that I do not see her there now, shining through
the thicket!" "She shines!" echoed Froda; and new strength
and hope ran through every vein. He climbed the hill, follow-
ing the gracious gleam; and Hildegardis, though trembling
at the sight, went readily with her companion, saying only from
time to time, in a low voice, "Ah, Sir Knight! - my noble
wondrous knight - leave me not here alone; that would be
my death." The knight, soothing her courteously, stepped
ever onwards through the darkness of dell and forest; for
already he heard the sound of the Bohemians landing on the
shore of the island. Suddenly he stood before a cave thick-
covered with underwood; and the gleam disappeared. "Here,
then," he whispered, endeavoring to hold the branches asunder.
For a moment she paused, and said, "If you should but let
the branches close again behind me, and I were to remain
alone with spectres in this cave! But, Froda, you will surely
follow me a trembling, hunted child as I am? Will you
not?" Without more misgivings she passed through the
branches; and the knight, who would willingly have remained
without as a guard, followed her. Earnestly he listened
through the stillness of night, whilst Hildegardis hardly


HILDEGARDIS IN SAFETY.
53
dared to draw her breath. Then was heard the tramp of an
armed man, coming ever nearer and nearer, and now close to
the entrance of the cave. In vain did Froda strive to free
himself from the trembling maiden. Already the branches
before the entrance were cracking and breaking, and Froda
sighed deeply. "Must I then, fall like a lurking fugitive,
entangled in a woman's garments? It is a base death to die.
But can I cast this half-fainting creature away from me on the
dark hard earth, perhaps into some deep abyss? Come, then,
what will, thou, Lady Aslauga, knowest that I die an honorable
death!"
"Froda! Hildegardis!" breathed a gentle, well-known voice
at the entrance; and recognizing Edwald, Froda bore the lady
towards him into the starlight, saying, "She will die of terror
in our sight in this deep cavern. Is the foe near at hand?"
"Most of them lie lifeless on the shore, or swim bleeding
through the waves," said Edwald. "Set your mind at rest,
and repose yourself. Are you wounded, beloved Froda?"
He this short account to his astonished companions
gave
how, in the darkness, he had mixed with the Bohemians and pres-
sed into the skiff, and that it had been easy to him on landing
to disperse the robbers entirely, who supposed that they were
attacked by one of their own crew, and thought themselves
bewitched. "They began at last to fall on one another "— so
he ended his history; " and we have only now to wait for the
morning to conduct the lady home; for those who are wander-
ing about of that owl-squadron will doubtless hide themselves
from the eye of day." While speaking, he had skilfully and
carefully arranged a couch of twigs and moss for Hildegardis;
and when the wearied one, after uttering some gentle words of
gratitude, had sunk into a slumber, he began, as well as the
darkness would allow, to bind up the wounds of his friend.
During this anxious task, while the dark boughs of the trees
murmured over their heads, and the rippling of the stream was
-
5


54
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
heard from afar, Froda, in a low voice, made known to his
brother in arms to the service of what lady he was bound.
Edwald listened with deep attention; but at last he said ten-
derly, "Trust me, the noble Princess Aslauga will not resent
it, if you pledge yourself to this earthly beauty in faithful love.
Ah! even now doubtless you are shining in the dreams of
Hildegardis, richly-gifted and happy knight! I will not stand
in your way with my vain wishes; I see now clearly that she
can never, never love me. Therefore I will this very day hasten
to the war which so many valiant knights of Germany are
waging in the heathen land of Prussia; and the black cross,
which distinguishes them for warriors of the Church, I will lay as
the best balm on my throbbing heart. Take, then, dear Froda,
that fair hand which you have won in battle, and live hence-
forth a life of surpassing happiness and joy."
66
Edwald," said Froda, gravely, "this is the first time that
I ever heard one word from your lips which a true knight
could not fulfil. Do as it pleases you towards the fair and haughty
Hildegardis; but Aslauga remains my mistress ever, and no
other do I desire in life or death." The youth was startled
by these stern words, and made no reply. Both, without say-
ing more to each other, watched through the night in solemn
thought.
The next morning, when the rising sun shone brightly over
the flowery plains around the Castle of Hildegardis, the watch-
man on the tower blew a joyful blast from his horn; for his
keen eye had distinguished far in the distance his fair lady,
who was riding from the forest between her two deliverers;
and from castle, town, and hamlet, came forth many a rejoic-
ing train to assure themselves with their own eyes of the
happy news.
Hildegardis turned to Edwald with eyes sparkling through
tears, and said, "Were it not for you, young knight, they
might have sought long and vainly before they found the lost


THE BANQUET.
55
maiden or the noble Froda, who would now be lying in that
dark cavern a bleeding and lifeless corse." Edwald bowed
lowly in reply, but persevered in his wonted silence. It even
seemed as though an unusual grief restrained the smile which
erewhile answered so readily, in childlike sweetness, to every
friendly word.
The noble guardian of Hildegardis had, in the overflowing
joy of his heart, prepared a sumptuous banquet, and invited
all the knights and ladies present to attend it. Whilst Froda
and Edwald, in all the brightness of their glory, were ascend-
ing the steps in the train of their rescued lady, Edwald said
to his friend, "Noble, steadfast knight, you can never love me
more!" And as Froda looked in astonishment, he continu-
ed —“ Thus it is when children presume to counsel heroes,
however well they may mean it. Now have I offended griev-
ously against you, and yet more against the noble Lady, As-
lauga." Because you would have plucked every flower of
your own garden to gladden me with them?" said Froda:
no; you are my gentle brother in arms now, as heretofore,
dear Edchen, and are perhaps become yet dearer to me."
""
"6
Then Edwald smiled again in silent contentment, like a
flower after the morning showers of May.
The eyes of Hildegardis glanced mildly and kindly on him,
and she often conversed graciously with him, while, on the
other hand, since yesterday, a reverential awe seemed to sepa-
rate her from Froda. But Edwald also was much altered.
However he welcomed with modest joy the favor of his lady,
it yet seemed as if some barrier were between them which for-
bade him to entertain the most distant hope of successful love.
It chanced that a noble count, from the court of the Em-
peror, was announced, who being bound on an important em-
bassy, had wished to pay his respects to the lady Hildegardis
by the way. She received him gladly; and as soon as the
first salutations were over, he said, looking at her and Edwald,


56
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
"I know not if my good fortune may not have brought me
hither to a joyful festivity. That would be right welcome
news to the Emperor my master." Hildegardis and Edwald
were lovely to look upon in their blushes and confusion; but
the count, perceiving at once that he had been two hasty, in-
clined himself respectfully towards the young knight, and said,
"Pardon me, noble Duke Edwald, my two great forwardness;
but I know the wish of my sovereign, and the hope to find it
already fulfilled prompted my tongue to speak.” All eyes
were fixed inquiringly on the young hero, who answered, in
graceful confusion, "It is true; the Emperor, when I was
last in his camp, through his undeserved favor, raised me to
the rank of a duke. It was my good fortune, that in an en-
counter, some of the enemy's horse, who had dared to assault
the sacred person of the Emperor, dispersed and fled on my
approach." The count then, at the request of Hildegardis,
related every circumstance of the heroic deed; and it appeared
that Edwald had not only rescued the Emperor from the most
imminent peril, but also, with the cool and daring skill of a
general, had gained the victory which decided the event of
the war.
Surprise at first sealed the lips of all; and even before their
congratulations could begin, Hildegardis had turned towards
Edwald, and said in a low voice, which yet, in that silence,
was clearly heard by all, "The noble count has made known
the wish of my imperial uncle; and I conceal it no longer, my
own heart's wish is the same:- - I am Duke Edwald's bride."
And with that she extended to him her fair right hand; and
all present waited only till he should take it, before they burst
into a shout of congratulation. But Edwald forbore to do so;
he only sunk on one knee before his lady, saying, "God for-
bid that the lofty Hildegardis should ever recall a word spoken
solemnly to noble knights and dames. To no vanquished
knight' you said 'might the hand of the Emperor's niece be-


THE CHALLENGE.
57
-
long' — and behold there Froda, the noble Danish knight, my
conqueror." Hildegardis, with a slight blush, turned hastily
away, hiding her eyes; and as Edwald arose, it seemed as
though there were a tear upon his cheek.
In his clanging armor Froda advanced to the middle of the
hall, exclaiming, "I declare my late victory over Duke Ed-
wald to have been the chance of fortune, and I challenge the
noble knight to meet me again to-morrow in the lists."
At the same time he threw his iron gauntlet ringing on the
pavement.
But Edwald moved not to take it up. On the contrary, a
glow of lofty anger was on his cheeks, and his eyes sparkled
with indignation, so that his friend would hardly have recog-
nized him; and after a silence he spoke :
"Noble Sir Froda, if I have ever offended you, we are now
even. How durst you, a warrior gloriously wounded by two
sword-strokes, challenge a man unhurt into the lists to-morrow,
you did not despise him?"
if
"Forgive me, Duke Edwald," answered Froda, somewhat
abashed, but with cheerfulness; "I have spoken too boldly:
not till I am completely cured do I call you to the field."
Then Edwald took up the gauntlet joyfully he knelt once
before Hildegardis, who, turning away her face, gave him her
fair hand to kiss, and walked, with his arm in that of his noble
Danish friend, out of the hall.
CHAPTER VII.
WHILE Froda's wounds were healing, Edwald would some-
times wander, when the shades of evening fell dark and silent
around, on the flowery terraces beneath the windows of Hilde-
5*


58
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
gardis, and sing pleasant little songs; amongst others the fol-
lowing: -
Heal fast, heal fast, ye hero-wounds;
O knight, be quickly strong;
Beloved strife
For fame and life,
O tarry not too long!"
But that one which the maidens of the castle loved best to
learn from him was this; and it was perhaps the longest song
that Edwald had ever sung in his whole life.
"Would I on earth were lying,
By noble hero slain;
So that love's gentle sighing
Breath'd me to life again!
Would I an emperor were,
Of wealth and power!
Would I were gathering twigs
In woodland bower!
Would that, in lone seclusion
I lived a hermit's life!
Would, amid wild confusion,
I led the battle-strife!
O would the lot were mine,
In bower or field,
To which my lady fair
Her smile would yield!"
The
At this time it happened, that a man, who held himself to
be very wise, and who filled the office of secretary to the
aged guardian of Hildegardis, came to the two knightly friends
to propose a scheme to them. His proposal, in few words,
was this, that as Froda could gain no advantage from his vic-
tory, he might in the approaching combat suffer himself to be
thrown from his steed, and thus secure the lady for his com
rade, at the same time fulfilling the wish of the emperor, which
might turn to his advantage hereafter in many ways.


THE SECOND COMBAT.
59
At this the two friends at first laughed heartily; but then
Froda advanced gravely towards the secretary, and said “ Thou
trifler, doubtless the old duke would drive thee from his service
did he know of thy folly, and teach thee to talk of the emperor.
Good night, worthy sir; and trust me that when Edwald
and I meet each other, it will be with all our heart and
strength."
The secretary hastened out of the room with all speed, and
was seen next morning to look unusually pale.
Soon after this, Froda recovered from his wounds; the
course was again prepared as before, but crowded by a still
greater number of spectators; and in the freshness of a dewy
morning the two knights advanced solemnly together to the
combat.
"Beloved Edwald," said Froda, in a low voice, as they
went, "take good heed to yourself, for neither this time can
the victory be yours, on that rose-colored cloud appears
Aslauga."
"It may be so," answered Edwald with a quiet smile; "but
under the arches of that golden bower shines Hildegardis, and
this time she has not been waited for."
-
The knights took their places, the trumpets sounded, and
the course began, and Froda's prophecy seemed to be near its
fulfilment, for Edwald staggered under the stroke of his lance,
so that he let go the bridle, seized the mane with both hands,
and thus hardly recovered his seat, whilst his high-mettled
snow-white steed bore him wildly round the lists without con-
trol. Hildegardis also seemed to shrink at this sight but
the youth at length reined-in his steed, and the second course
was run.
Froda shot like lightning along the plain, and it seemed as
if the success of the young Duke were now hopeless; but in the
shock of their meeting, the bold Danish steed reared, starting
―


60
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
aside as if in fear; the rider staggered, his stroke passed harm-
less by, and both steed and knight fell clanging to the ground
before the steadfast spear of Edwald, and lay motionless upon
the field.
Edwald did now as Froda had done before. In knightly
wise he stood still upon the spot, as if waiting to see whether
any other adversary were there to dispute his victory; then
he sprang from his steed, and flew to the assistance of his fallen
friend.
$
He strove with all his might to release him from the weight
of his horse; and presently Froda came to himself, rose on his
feet, and raised up his charger also. Then he lifted up his
visor, and greeted his conqueror with a friendly smile, though
his countenance was pale. The victor bowed humbly, almost
timidly, and said, "You, my knight, overthrown—and by
me! I understand it not."
"It was her own will," answered Froda, smiling.
now to your gentle bride."
The multitude around shouted aloud, each lady and knight
bowed low, when the aged Duke pointed out to them the lovely
pair, and at his bidding, the betrothed, with soft blushes, em-
braced each other beneath the green garlands of the golden
bower.
"Come
That very day were they solemnly united in the chapel of
the castle, for so had Froda earnestly desired: a journey into
a far-distant land, he said, lay before him, and much he wished
to celebrate the marriage of his friend before his departure.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE torches were burning clear in the vaulted halls of the
castle, Hildegardis had just left the arm of her lover to begin


ASLAUGA IN THE LISTS.
61
66
a stately dance of ceremony with the aged Duke, when Edwald
beckoned to his companion, and they went forth together into
the moonlit gardens of the castle.
"Ah, Froda, my noble, lofty hero," exclaimed Edwald
after a silence, were you as happy as I am! But your eyes
rest gravely and thoughtfully on the ground, or kindle almost
impatiently heavenwards. It would be dreadful, indeed, had
the secret wish of your heart been to win Hildegardis, and
I, foolish boy, so strangely favored, had stood in your way."
"Be at rest, Edchen," answered the Danish hero with a
smile. "On the word of a knight, my thoughts and yearnings
concern not your fair Hildegardis. Far brighter than ever does
Aslauga's radiant image shine into my heart: but now hear
what I am going to relate to you."
--
At the very moment when we meet together in the course
-oh, had I words to express it to you! I was enwrapped,
encircled, dazzled by Aslauga's golden tresses, which were
waving all around me. Even my noble steed must have be-
held the apparition, for I felt him start and rear under me.
I saw you no more, the world no more, I saw only the
angel-face of Aslauga close before me, smiling, blooming like
a flower in a sea of sunshine which floated around her. My
senses failed me. Not till you raised me from beneath my
horse, did my consciousness return, and then I knew, with ex-
ceeding joy, that her own gracious pleasure had struck me
down. But I felt a strange weariness, far greater than my
fall alone could have caused, and I felt assured at the same
time that my lady was about to send me on a far-distant mis-
sion. I hastened to repose myself in my chamber, and a deep
sleep immediately fell on me. Then came Aslauga in a dream
to me, more royally adorned than ever; she placed herself at
the head of my couch, and said, 'Haste to array thyself
in all the splendor of thy silver armor, for thou art not the
wedded-guest alone, thou art also the — '
-
-
-


62
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
"And before she could speak the word, my dream had
melted away, and I felt a longing desire to fulfil her gracious
command, and rejoiced in my heart. But in the midst of the
festival, I seemed to myself more lonely than in all my life be-
fore, and I cannot cease to ponder what that unspoken word
of my lady could be intended to announce."
"You are of a far loftier spirit than I am, Froda," said Ed-
wald after a silence," and I cannot soar with you into the
sphere of your joys. But tell me, has it never awakened a deep
pang within you that you serve a lady so withdrawn from you
alas! a lady, who is almost ever invisible?"
"No, Edwald, not so," answered Froda, his eyes sparkling
with happiness. "For well I know that she scorns not my ser-
vice; she has even deigned sometimes to appear to me. Oh,
I am in truth a happy knight and minstrel!"
-
-
"And yet your silence to-day, — your troubled yearnings?"
"Not troubled, dear Edchen; only so heartfelt, so fervent
in the depth of my heart,—and so strangely mysterious to my-
self withal. But this, with all belonging to me, springs alike
from the words and commands of Aslauga. How, then, can it
be otherwise than something good and fair, and tending to a
high and noble aim?"
A squire, who had hastened after them, announced that the
knightly bridegroom was expected for the torch-dance; and as
they returned, Edwald entreated his friend to take his place.
in the solemn dance next to him and Hildegardis. Froda in-
clined his head in token of friendly assent.
The horns and hautboys had already sounded their solemn
invitation; Edwald hastened to give his hand to his fair bride;
and while he advanced with her to the midst of the stately hall,
Froda offered his hand for the torch-dance to a noble lady who
stood the nearest to him, without farther observing her, and
took with her the next place to the wedded pair.
But how was it when a light began to beam from his com-


ASLAUGA IN THE DANCE.
63
panion, before which the torch in his left hand lost all its bright-
ness? Hardly dared he, in sweet and trembling hope, to raise
his eyes to the lady; and when at last he ventured, all his
boldest wishes and longings were fulfilled.' Adorned with a
radiant bridal crown of emeralds, Aslauga moved in solemn
loveliness beside him, and beamed on him from amid the sunny
light of her golden hair, blessing him with her heavenly coun-
tenance. The amazed spectators could not withdraw their
eyes
from the mysterious pair,—the knight in his light silver mail,
with the torch raised on high in his hand, earnest and joyful, mov-
ing with a measured step, as if engaged in a ceremony of deep and
mysterious meaning His lady beside him, rather floating than
dancing, beaming light from her golden hair, so that you would
have thought the day was shining into the night; and when a
look could reach through all the surrounding splendor to her
face, rejoicing heart and sense with the unspeakably sweet
smile of her eyes and lips.
Near the end of the dance, she inclined towards Froda, and
whispered to him with an air of tender confidence, and with the
last sound of the horns and hautboys she had disappeared.
The most curious spectator dared not question Froda about
his partner. Hildegardis did not seem to have been conscious
of her presence; but shortly before the end of the festival,
Edwald approached his friend, and asked in a whisper," Was
it?"
"Yes, dear youth," answered Froda; "your marriage-dance
has been honored by the presence of the most exalted beauty
which has been ever beheld in any land. Ah! and if I rightly
understood her meaning, you will never more see me stand
sighing and gazing upon the ground. But hardly dare I hope
it. Now good night, dear Edchen, good night. As soon as I
may, I will tell you all."
1 See the Baron de la Motie Fouqué's Waldemar —
"Let none henceforward shrink from daring dreams,
For earnest hearts shall find their dreams fulfilled."


64
ASLAUGA'S KNIGHT.
CHAPTER IX.
THE light and joyous dreams of morning still played round
Edwald's head when it seemed as though a clear light encom-
passed him. He remembered Aslauga; but it was Froda, the
golden locks of whose helmet shone now with no less sunny
brightness than the flowing hair of his lady. "Ah!" thought
Edwald in his dream, "how beautiful has my dear brother-in-
arms become!" And Froda said to him, "I will sing some-
thing to you, Edchen; but softly, softly, so that it may not
awaken Hildegardis. Listen to me.
She glided in, bright as the day,
There where her knight in slumber lay;
And in her lily hand was seen
A band that seemed of the moonlight sheen.
'We are one,' she sang, as about his hair
She twin'd it, and over her tresses fair.
Beneath them the world lay dark and drear:
But he felt the touch of her hand so dear,
Uplifting him far above mortals' sight,
While around him were shed her locks of light,
Till a garden fair lay about him spread
And this was paradise, angels said."
"Never in your life did you sing so sweetly," said the dream-
ing Edwald.
"That may well be, Edchen," said Froda, with a smile, and
vanished.
But Edwald dreamed on and on, and many other visions
passed before him, all of a pleasing kind, although he could
not recall them, when, in the full light of morning, he unclosed
his eyes with a smile. Froda alone, and his mysterious song,
stood clear in his memory. He now knew full well that his
friend was dead; but the thought gave him no pain, for he
felt sure that the pure spirit of that minstrel-warrior could only


THE GRAVE OF FRODA.
65
find its proper joy in the gardens of Paradise, and in blissful
solace with the lofty spirits of the ancient times. He glided
softly from the side of the sleeping Hildegardis to the chamber
of the departed.
He came back just as Hildegardis awoke; she beheld, with
wonder and humility, his mien of chastened joy, and asked him
whither he had been so early; to which he replied, with a
smile, "I have just buried the corpse of my dearly-loved Froda,
who, this very night, has passed away to his golden-haired mis-
tress." Then he related the whole history of Aslauga's Knight,
and lived on in subdued, unruffled happiness, though for some
time he was even more silent and thoughtful than before. He
was often found sitting on the grave of his friend, and singing
the following song to his lute:
:-
Listening to celestial lays,
Bending thy unclouded gaze
On the pure and living light,
Thou art blest, Aslauga's Knight!
Send us from thy bower on high
Many an angel-melody,
Many a vision soft and bright,
Aslauga's dear and faithful Knight!

$
6


BLANCHE ROSE.
2
A TALE OF OLDEN TIMES.
THE bells of Toulouse were chiming for primes.' The
spires, steeples, and turrets fluttered with pennons and banners,
and clustered with caps and bonnets like swarming bees. The
main street was lined by the Burgher guard, and crowded
with citizens, strangers, troubadours, and minstrels, above
whose motley show the windows and galleries were hung with
cindon and arras, and filled with scarlet gowns, furred tabards,
and all the riches, splendor, and beauty of "Bel Languedoc."
A deep stillness reigned in the crowd, and all eyes were turned
towards the east gate, where a triumphal arch, crowned with
laurel, palm, and the white cross of Toulouse stood as high as
the bartizan of the city port.
"Santa Madre! what jour de fête in this?" said an old pil-
grim, as he pushed through the men-at-arms at the barrier.
"In the name of St. Jacques de Toulouse, where did you
come from? replied one of the sergeants, glancing at his
""
cockle-shell.
"That is no point of your charge," replied the stranger;
"but I would know what saint you are going to celebrate."
"Truly we call him not saint as yet," replied the sergeant;
"though I doubt not he is as good as St. Dennis, or St. George,
or any other St. Chevalier in the calendar; bu in respect to
the canonization, he is yet only Raymond de Toulouse-La
1 Noon mass.
2 Fine white linen.
3 A soldier between the rank of an esquire and man-at-arms, who generally
worked the engines.


THE PROCESSION.
67
Fleur de Chevalerie'-' la lame de France,' our young prince
that shall return to-day, with the glory of heaven and earth,
from the holy croisade."
The pilgrim crossed himself, and while he was yet speaking
with the guard, the sound of cymbals, kettle-drums, and a
"corps d'harmonie" came faintly through the still sunshine.
"On viens!" exclaimed the sergeant; and the billmen,
eagerly clearing the passage, closed up their array, and stood
silent under their arms.
The music advanced slowly, till the deep knell of an eastern
march could be distinguished, and the thick heavy trample of
horses upon the road; every eye fixed upon the gate, as the
music approached, till suddenly the clattering hoofs and roll-
ing drums echoed in the deep arch, and the dark mailed horse-
men and forest of lances came through into the sunshine. The
long black line of men-at-arms poured slowly down the street,
till the bright tabards of the heralds appeared at the gate, fol-
lowed by the great banner of Toulouse, and all the peers and
paladins of the array.
In the midst of his knights, mounted upon a blanche Arab,
and glistening in the white battle-habit of the cross, the Earl
rode before his banner, surrounded by his officers, and followed
by all the chivalry of Languedoc and Provence. His pale no-
ble countenance was clear and serene as the sun that shone
upon him, and his long black hair fell like waves of raven silk
from the jewelled helmet and glittering lambroquin, which shook
like a glory about his armed head. A rending shout, “ Vive!
Vive! vive le Paladin del croix !" went up like thunder from
¹ Till the fourteenth century, the French language, particularly in the south,
had great remains of the old Provençal and Romanish, once common to all
the south of Europe; hence, even in writing, it retained many constructions
since localized to Italy and Spain, and thus, for "de la" " à la," &c. was used
"del" "al," "Rey" for "Roi," Espèe, for "Epèe, " del Rey and al Rey" for
"du Roy and au Roi," &c. hence the surname which yet remains in France,
"Delcroix."


68
BLANCHE ROSE.
↑
the crowd; and the waving of bonnets, scarfs, and glaives, flut-
tered and flashed, and glistened down the street before the ban-
ner like the tossing and glimmering of flowers before the breeze.
By the side of the earl, rode his sworn brother in arms
the beautiful and gallant Auguste de Valence, son to King
Remi of Provence- called " La Fleur de France,"
""Le Bel
du Monde," and the second Knight of all the Christian
chivalry; but the eyes of the people past over him as he rode
beside the young prince, who, in the opinion of the troubadours,
came nearer the beau-ideal of chivalry, "Sir Galahad du
Sangraal," than any other knight who had ever lived. All
the way as he came, garlands, and crowns, and showering
flowers rained upon his helmet and housings; and the people
wept, and knelt and blessed him, and held up their children to
see his face, and cry "Vive la Gloire de France! The young
prince came white as his surcoat, and bowed his glorious head
to the pall on his horse's mane. "Soli DEO Gloria!" said he
"Soli DEO Gloria! et non nobis DOMINI !"
""
―
-
It was long before the court passed down the street, but at
length the earl entered the Grande place, and as he passed
under a large house near the cross, looked suddenly up to the
galleries. That house alone in the square was silent and
deserted, the silk curtains were drawn close in the windows,
and the heavy galleries empty and desolate. The prince
turned suddenly and spoke to the grand almoner, and the color
came into the face of the old man, but what he answered
could not be heard in the crowd.
In a few moments they reached the gate of the episcopal
palace, and the long glittering lambroquins and tall lances
poured through into the court till the gate closed, and the
black column of men-at-arms filed past towards the castle.
But the crowd still remained before the palace, and in a short
'Du monde was a superlative epithet frequently bestowed upon the extra-
ordinary degree of any quality, good or bad. Thus there was" The perilous
Knight of the world," "The beautiful Ladye of the world," &c. &c. &c.


RAYMOND DE TOULOUSE.
69
time a sumptuous cavalcade of the city procession came
through to the gate, and the stately companies of peers, knights,
and ladies, began to arrive for the banquet, prepared to give
welcome to their prince.
All the noon and till the sun grew low, the clangor of the
wild eastern music came from the portals, and the gates-stairs,
and galleries were crowded with valets, pages, pursuivants, and
men-at-arms; but as the evening came and the twilight began
to fall, the quiet of closing day succeeded to the hurry of the
noon, and only a bright page, or an over-wassailed trooper was
seen here and there flitting through the dim courts, or elbow-
ing the narrow street as if it was too narrow for a victorious
crusader, who had ridden upon the plains of Zebulon and
Naphthali.
It was near dark; the Chateau was dim and still, and the
quiet of feudal solitude had succeeded to the hurry and glitter
of the baronial pageant and military parade. At times a sud-
den roar of songs and voices came from the ward-rooms, but only
one still watch-light shone upon the moat, and already the pages
were taking their respective turnpikes, and the seneschal
was putting off his furred gown within his closet; for as yet
the great had not fallen into those extravagant late hours which
made them invisible to their poor suitors at eight o'clock before
noon.2
In the midst of this quiet, a tall figure, wrapped in a dark
mantle, came out from the west postern, and turned hastily
towards the Grande Place. The full moon was rising over the
dim houses as he entered the square; and as he looked up to
her bright face, it discovered the pale noble countenance of
Raymond de Toulouse. He passed hastily to the house, which
1 Old name for a winding stair.
2 Latimer, in one of his sermons, complains that the dissipations and late
hours of the courtiers had advanced to such an excess, that they were unable
to give audience perhaps, before eight o'clock in the morning.
6 *


70
BLANCHE ROSE.
he had noticed at his entry, and stopping at a small port under
the garden turret, unclosed the door and passed into a little
wilderness of cypresses and olives. He walked forward
through the dim alleys, like one well acquainted with their
windings, till he came to a vast plane-tree, which overshadowed
a little green seat beside the Garonne.
A white female figure sat upon the turf, her long black hair
loose upon her neck, and her silk gown glistening on the grass
like a continuation of the moonlight which glimmered on the
water, and to which she gazed with such fixedness that the
knight was at her side before she heard his step.
"BLANCHE ROSE!" said he in a still gentle voice; she
started and drew a long quivering breath, but as she looked in
his face, she sprung from the ground,—“My own very dear
prince and brother!" she exclaimed, and fell upon his bosom,
and wept without a word.
The prince held her in his arms and bent over her till her
emotion subsided into the low tremulous sobs of an infant's
tears. Several times the earl strove to speak; but his voice
failed at that sad trembling breath that fluttered upon his
bosom.
"Dear Blanche," said he at last, "what is this?
would not tell me but will tell me."
you
The lady started and shuddered, and her face sunk closer
on his mantle.
-
-
-
The tears came to the eyes of the young knight—“ My
own dear Orpheline Ladye- the child of my foster-mother
you do not fear to speak to me !— to your brother? look up
on the face that used to rest on the same bosom sleep in
the same cradle and this the hand that was once the little
helpless hand that clung to the same breast with yours - Now
to HIM be the glory! The battle arm that holds the thunder
and the lightning against all that should do ill to my dear
sister."
-
they


THE MINIATURE.
71
Blanche burst afresh into sobs, and would have sunk out of
his arms but for his strong hand; but he supported her in
silence, till at last her tears ceased, and she leaned still and
breathless, and deathly heavy on his arm. Raymond looked
upon her bright lovely head that lay motionless upon his cloak,
and smoothed the raven locks from her pale brow. "Alas!"
said he gently, "where is your own white flower that used to
be so bright in these dark waves?"
"La-Blanche-Rose" trembled like the leaves that quivered
in the moonlight-" Fallen
-gone-withered in the dust!"
she murmured faintly.
-
――
The earl's hand shook, but he did not speak, and for a
long time they stood without a word.
-
-
Blanche rose up from his arm, and swept back the hair from
her pale death-face. "Raymond!" said she, "I will speak to
you as a knight's daughter should speak to a knight's son.
I was
- your very dear true sister. I am"- her voice
choked and struggled "no more your sister no more my
father's daughter
- lost fallen maiden!
a poor
I was
the last of his race that was the father of kings. I shall be
the first the mother of one who will never have a father!
She sunk down upon the seat and buried her face in the grass.
Raymond stood silent and fixed, and held her hand - but
it did not move again, and lay cold and still, and heavy as the
dead clay. "My dear sister!" said he at last, "what, who
has done you wrong?"
""
Blanche did not speak nor lift her face, but drew away her
hand, and immediately it returned with something bright to
the moonshine; as Raymond stooped it flew open, and he saw
the glorious beautiful features of Auguste de Valence.
"La Bel du Monde !" he exclaimed.
Blanche did not move nor answer, and his eyes rested
fixed upon the miniature, as it lay open in her passive hand.
"What has he done?" said the earl, in the deep, calm ter-
rible voice with which he used to speak in battle.
-
-
-


72
BLANCHE ROSE.
Her voice spoke faintly from the ground; "He has shed the
rose from my brow that shall never bloom again!
Raymond fell on the ground, his long hair spread in the
dust, and his bright noble terrible battle-front bowed like a
child. The white fingers of the maiden closed convulsively
upon the gold, and the bright robe trembled on her slender
form, like the lights upon the stream.
""
Raymond rose up; his lips were white as death, but his
eyes calm and steady; and he stooped and took her passive
hand and kissed her cold lips. "Ladye! my very dear love
and sister!" said he, "it is gone! it is passed away!-to-
morrow your white flower shall bloom on your brow, clear and
stainless as ever it shone in
sun!"
Blanche started and glanced wildly up; but the sudden
light of her eyes fell, and she clasped her hands on her face,
"He is married to another!" said she.
Raymond grasped her hands.
"Look up!" said he;
"look on the fair moon; she is rising as you and I have seen
her rise when we were happy, careless infants on this bank.
When she rises again, you shall look upon her, clear, and
bright, and spotless as her face that smiles upon you!"
Blanche looked long, and fixed, and calm upon him, and
dropped her eyes, and shook her head.
"The grave. -the
fire that washes out all spot- the mercy of God shall take
away my stain, but never man on earth!"
The earl turned away and held her hand, and the tears run
down his face. At last he loosed his surcoat, and undid the
white cross from his neck. "I took it at the holy shrine,"
said he," at His foot where all sins shall be forgiven; it has
brought me through battle and tempest, and the black death,'
by His might it shall bring you through peril worse than
death. Take it; pray for me; and when we meet again you
-
-
1 The plague in general, in particular a dreadful pestilence which desolated
the north of Europe in the 13th century.


THE FOREST OF MARIS.
73
shall be the bright, beautiful, glorious lady of the world that
ever you were in life!"
He tied the cord on her neck, and laid the pearl in her hand,
and long spoke and strove to console her, but she could not be
comforted, and sat still and silent upon the grass; her hands
dropped in the cold dew, and her eyes fixed blank and dim
upon the moonlight that floated in the water.
Raymond stood and gazed upon her till his face grew white
as hers; but suddenly the light came to his eyes, he laid his
hand upon the cross of his sword "by His might and His
hope, I hold the spell of your fate!" said he; "to-morrow it
shall be broken!"
The gray dawn was breaking in the forest of Maris, and the
dim cold light began to glisten upon the pale flowers and the
dewy leaves of the wood-sorrel and colt's-foot which clustered
about the feet of the old oaks. No sound came through the
still thickets but the chime from the distant convent, and the
light trip of the buck pricking among the leaves; even at that
quiet hour he started at the mass-bell, suddenly topped his
cropping lips from the grass, and bent his ear, and held up
his nose in the wind; but he returned to his browsing, and
wavered through the wood, till he came to the brink of a small
deep glade; he stopped suddenly, and pricked his ear, and
glanced his bright eye into the hollow, and for a moment stood
and felt the wind, but in the next his white single went over
the long fern like a flash of light, and he vanished into the
deep thicket. For an instant his short bound came from the
moss, but nothing stirred nor appeared where he had looked,
and the light began to brighten and the birds to sing, but all
was still and solitary.
The red rose of the morning began to appear through the
trees, and the white mist went slowly up from the glade, and
under an oak leaned a tall dark man, his arms folded, his back


74
BLANCHE ROSE.
to the tree, and his brown cap and deep mantle scarce dis-
tinguishable from the knotted and fantastic shapes of the old
trunks that stood about him.
As he leaned and gazed upon the path, a quick step rustled
on the leaves, and suddenly the light noble figure of the
Auguste de Valence came out upon the glade. For a mo-
ment he stopped and glanced round. The man rose from the
tree, and dropped his cloak, and came to the green — Ray-
mond de Toulouse.
Auguste cast his mantle, and put off his glove, and they
drew their swords and confronted each other without a word.
For a moment they stood upon their guard, point to point, eye
to eye, foot to foot, and neither gave hit nor foin; but in the
next Auguste made a feint and plunge that might have foiled
the best hand in France, but the blade glanced like a reed
from the sword of Raymond, and for several moments the
glade echoed to the quick clash and the heavy fearful trample
of the mortal assault. But it might have seemed only a skil-
ful "passage of arms," neither being able to foil the hand of
his opponent, till Auguste made the foin that he was never
known to fail, and the sword went through the kirtle of his
antagonist, close beneath his arm. The point glittered at his
back, and the blood gushed down his green hose, but he did
not fall nor stagger, nor drop his hand; and they closed, and
clashed, and showered blows, till the blood run from every
limb, and breathless and exhausted they dropped their points,
and stood apart to breathe. For an instant they wiped their
brows and drew their breath, and undid their kirtles to the
wind; and Auguste sat down upon a mole-hill, and the earl
leaned to a tree, and each glanced at times to the other, till
suddenly they started to the green, and renewed the battle
with the same mortal determination. The sun was rising as
they struck the first strokes; and whether it shone in the
eyes of Auguste, or that the earl had the better, he made a


THE DUEL.
75
sudden feint, and in the next moment the hilt of his sword
was against the breast of his antagonist, and the blade a red
half ell beyond his back.
De Valence sprung like a stricken hart, and fell upon the
turf without a word; the blood gushed out from his mouth
and breast, and in a moment his eyes began to change, and
his lips became blue and cold. Raymond threw himself upon
his knees by his side, and clasped his hand, and raised his
head, and strove to stanch the blood, and gazed wildly upon
his closing eyes-" God give mercy and grace!" he cried,
"that I should do this!"
Auguste opened his eyes and grasped his hand-"True
and noble friend," said he, "you were ever kind and faithful
to me in our lives, and this that you have now done is the best
and truest deed of all. I thank God
I bless you
me forgive me but oh, she never can!"
-pray for
and he
turned his face to the earth.
The earl's tears dropped fast upon his cold brow, and he
held his hand without speaking, as his breath came in short
painful sobs, and the cold death-dew rose upon his forehead;
he gave a sudden shiver, and his hand caught upon the hand
of his friend-"Say a prayer," said he ; "bid God sain; and
let her pray for me when I am gone!"
Raymond cast up a sudden look
-
no priest !
-
-
-
-―――
66
-
Holy saints! — and
-
none to say him shrift!”
The dying knight pressed his hand -" Hold up your cross,"
said he," and let me look upon it till I pass away. If I had but
a cup of water! "
.
Raymond glanced eagerly round the glade; a little blue
streamlet fell through the grass upon a hollow of the mossy
rock, and hastening to the spot, he filled his bonnet at the
well, and hurried back to the dying man. The eyes of
Auguste had closed, but when the water came to his lips he
opened them and looked up; a faint light came to his cheek;
and he raised himself on the arm of his once brother.


76
BLANCHE ROSE.
"I will confess my shrift to you, my true brother," said he,
" and you shall tell the priest, and pray for me, and there will
be mercy."
The earl bathed his face, and held him in his arms, and
lifted the cross before him; and the knight clasped his dying
hands on his, and confessed to him, as if he had been a monk
in holy quire. His strength ebbed away with his last words,
and he sunk heavy and breathless upon the breast of Raymond.
The knight dipped his hand in the water, and signed his brow,
and put the cross in his cold fingers—“God be merciful to
you and forgive you," said he, "and speak that word that I
dare not speak, and that none is here to speak in his name!”
The hand of the dying knight closed upon the rood; his
eyes fell, and one sharp shiver, and he stretched out, cold and
still, and gone for ever.
The earl gazed on his void face, and held his hand till it
grew stiff and cold, and the eyes slowly unclosed and fixed in
the death-glare. Raymond shuddered, and clasped his hands,
and laid his head upon the turf, and the cross upon his breast,
and spread his mantle over him, and knelt, and wept, and
prayed beside him. At last he rose, and dried his sword on
his sleeve and put his bonnet on his head, and set his horn to
his lips, and blew the mort.' In a few moments a little page
came lightly through the trees with his white Arab; and, as he
led up the horse, looked upon the cloak, and trembled and
turned pale.
"Sit beside him," said the earl, " and watch that no beast-
nor bird come to do him wrong; and I will ride to the town,
and he shall be buried as men should bury a king's son."
The sun was set, and the twilight was almost gone; all
Toulouse was in motion: the great bell of the cathedral tolled
1
The death-note, or the blast that was blown at the death of a stag.


THE DEATH-KNELL.
77
its heavy knell over the town; and the streets were crowded
with a tide of people hurrying towards the main rue. All the
way from the chateau to the great church was kept by men-
at-arms, and a constant wavering stir went among the tall
lances, an eager murmur of voices, interrupted only by the
fearful toll of the bell that struck its death-knell at slow inter-
vals.
"Gramercy! what is this, that the great bell tolls," exclaim-
ed an old peasant to his merchant as he pushed through the
crowd; "I never heard that knell but for the death of our
earl."
"Then shall you well hear it to-day," replied the citizen;
"for though he is not, as you shall say, dead in his body, he
is dead in his glory and knight's fame."
"Saint Mary! of what speak you?" said the granger.
66 Know you La Rose Blanche?" asked the merchant.
"Peine de ma vie !" exclaimed the old man, "do I know
the moon, and the bright star when she rises at vespers?"
"Then shall you not marvel that the earl had the greatest
love for her that ever knight had for a lady," said the burgher.
"Nay, truly," replied the peasant; "but I make great
marvel to hear a bell toll, when all the chimes in Toulouse
should be ringing merry!"
""
"You shall not make the lark sing at your holiday," re
plied the merchant, nor a maiden's love come for your harp-
ing. This, that was the brightest that ever the sun looked on,
minded a fair crown and broad lordship no more than yon
should value a cowslip fee in a fairy-land; and likely for that
they had been foster-children together, she thought of Earl
Raymond but as a maiden may of her true brother, and would
not be his lady though he had been king of France; at
the least she said so. The count was near out of his mind,
as all men know; but that which men know not - alas, that it
should be to say -
on the evening that he was to sail for the
-
――
"
7


78
BLANCHE ROSE.
•
Holy Land, being alone with her to take his leave, fell such
unknightly outrage as never prince did to a lady, unless it was
Don Rodrique to count Palayo's daughter. The sweet gentle
maiden never spoke charge nor word against him, but ever
she was pale, and heavy and broken of heart, and none knew
why, till it could no longer be hid, and her shame flew fast
and far as ever went the renown of the 'Blanche Rose,' that
had never peer of any earthly ladye. Fearful!-fearful! —
she had to dree' when the priest came to curse her, and the
bishop to make her speak, and the proud peers, her kinsmen,
spoke of burning her on a hill, like queen Guinever; yet she
would never tell the name of her false knight till this hour. But
now when the earl came, he was all confounded in her peril;
and for his great repenting, he hath confessed and accused
him to the bishop, and now would do all the amende that may
be to the heart-broken maiden, and make her true lady and
countess of Toulouse."
"And what is this that shall be done to-night?" said the
peasant.
"The earl goes in his penance to the great church,” replied
the townsman; "and thereafter the Blanche Rose shall be
your lady; and let no man nor maiden think her slight, be-
cause the silk mitten was not puissant as the mail glove.”
"Truly I shall think her the truest and most dolorous lady
that ever was named with lips," said the old man, " and the
devil spit in his face that shall ever say contrar!”
As he spoke, a faint chorus of voices came from the chateau,
and a great light appeared beyond the black crowd of helmets
and lances. It advanced slowly up the street, and at length
the heavy tread of feet could be heard through the crowd,
and a choir of monks chanting the penitential psalms. The
solemn strain approached, and rose and fell at intervals. till
1 Endure.


THE PENITENT AT THE ALTAR.
79
suddenly the crowd gave back, and the white monks and
bright torches came slowly into the square. All the convents
of Toulouse followed in long procession, till a broad heaven
of light shone upon the press, and discovered the dark shadows
of the black penitents, preceded by their cross, and lighted
by a thousand torches.
In the midst, bare-headed, and bare-footed, divested of all
his feudal ensigns, with a torch in his hand and a chain
upon his neck, Earl Raymond walked in the white gown of
penance; but his face was whiter than the cindon, and his
eyes bent on the ground before the gaze and murmur that
passed before him. A thrill of grief, wonder, and admiration
passed through every heart which had so lately seen his crown-
ed head, riding through that street, in all the light and glory
of victory and the cross; and at each pause of the choir, a
deep "Amen!" answered from the crowd. As the proces-
sion came to the high cross, the chant ceased, the train
stopped, and the heralds lifted their hands and cried “ Oyez,
Oyez, so should it be done to all knights, traitors to orphelines
and maidens.""
A deep death-pause rested upon the crowd, and no voice
answered back again; the heavy tramp went on, the chant
rose up, and the procession passed on towards the cathedral.
The long lines of monks vanished like shadows within the
deep arch of the great portal, till the white gliding figures re-
appeared in the light of the still choir, and the cowls, and
gowns, and glittering glaives poured through the dim aisles,
till the choir and nave was filled with the dark crowd. The
church was hung with black, and lighted as for a soul-mass; and
as the torches and the penitent advanced to the altar, the voices
Every knight by his oath was particularly sworn to succor and defend all
maidens, orphelines, and "desolate ladies;" hence treason against any, in
such character, was the highest act of villany and infamy in a chevalier.
•


80
BLANCHE ROSE.
of the unseen choir, and the still peal of the organ, went up
over his head, as if the saints and the seraphims mourned over
him in heaven. Raymond wrapped his face in his mantle,
and knelt upon the stone, and bowed his head upon the foot-
stool of the altar, till the priest raised him, and set him on the
"siege duloureux," in the sight of all the people.
The service of the penitents was performed, the monks ex-
tinguished their torches at the foot of the shrine, and the
heralds advanced to the altar. Sir Raymond stood up and
turned to the people, and the pursuivants took off his white
gown, and displayed his knightly habit and belt of estate.
There was a terrible pause, and not a breath passed in the
chapel. The heralds advanced to the earl, and broke his sword
over his head, and hewed the spurs from his heels, and rent
the fur from his tabard; and immediately his shield and crest
were spurned from the church door; the trumpets sounded on
the steps and the heralds cried,-"Raymond de Toulouse!
Raymond de Toulouse! Raymond de Toulouse! traitor to
God and his lady, and mansworn of his knighthood; traitor
knight, so is thy name cast out from true knights, so I cast
thy shame in thy teeth, and defy thee in the name of God,
the defender of the orpheline and desolate!”
The people stood cold and still, and hushed as death; and
the blood went out of the earl's lips, till they were white as
his kirtle. The heralds sat down, but Raymond stood still
and vacant, his arms hanging to his side, and his eyes fixed
upon the air.
The bishop rose out of his chair and took the book in his
hand; for a moment he stood and looked upon the knight.-
"In the garden of God, one little white rose grew amidst
the flowers, very fair and pure, and bright, the sweetest among
the blossoms; the sun loved to shine upon it by day, and the
moon by night: and the dew and the rain watered it in the
heat, and the breeze kissed it in the morning, and said, God


THE ABSOLUTION.
81
bless thee, and he did bless it, till it was the fairest of the earth
and the trees bent over to keep it from the wind, and the
birds sung to it at noon, and the angels of God looked down
upon it, and blessed his name that he had made it lovely.
"God gave thee the flower, and the forest to keep and
watch, and defend from all wrong; and he gave thee the oak,
and the palm, the fair fields, the still, green wood, and all that
walk therein — and if this had not been enough he would
have given thee more.
"Thou spared to come to the cedar, and the oak, and
plucked the little flower that was lonely, and put it in thy
bosom when it was sweet, and when it faded, cast it on the
ground to die, and went thy way!"
Raymond fell on his face before the altar; and the people
wept and sobbed, and sunk on their knees, as if their hearts
fell with his who bowed before them. The bishop laid his
hand upon the book -
"When the wicked man turneth away from his wickedness
that he hath committed, and doth that which is lawful and
right, he shall save his soul alive! Look up, my son; 'God
is merciful and great to forgive us our offences! · He will
see thy repentance and say, Thou shalt not die!' "
The earl rose upon his knee, and the bishop laid his hand.
upon his head, and spoke the words of absolution, and laid
the cross on his brow, and bid him rise. Raymond stood up
and the prelate kissed him on the cheek, and belted him with
a new sword; and the heralds braced clean spurs upon his
heels, and put a crest of a new device upon his head, and
cried, "God make thee a new and valiant knight, and keep
these arms to his service, to aid the widow, orpheline, and
every one distressed and desolate, and maintain the right
against all men who may live and die!" Immediately the
trumpets sounded, and the pursuivants proclaimed him, lord,
earl, and knight; the furred mantle of state was cast over his
7*


82
BLANCHE ROSE.
shoulders, and he came out among his people Raymond de
Toulouse.
That night, before the moon went down, Rose knew how
she was cleared- but long she lay and wept upon his feet
and would not be comforted; and when at last her strength
and mind returned, it was in the strength of his despair, to fly to
the bishop, and declare the truth; the hand of Raymond held
her like an infant on the grass, but she had no hearing for his
words, and would but wring her hands, and cry to be released
to do him justice, till she sunk exhausted upon the turf. He
watched by her through the night, and in the morning, when
her spirits ebbed away and the strength of her dilirium was
past, she was subdued by his tears, and swore upon his hand.
The light came into his face and he kissed her and rose up-
"You never broke your word," said he; now I will leave
you!"
""
-
On St. Bride's-day at noon, the earl, surrounded by all the
chivalry and beauty of Languedoc, stood at the high altar,
where he had done his penance. Blanche Rose bent before
the priest in the white bridal amice, her pale brow glistening
with pearls and gems, and the white flower shining like a star
in the long glossy tresses that fell upon her neck for the last
time.' The earl put the ring upon her finger, the priest set
the coronet upon her brow, and the heralds cried her, Coun-
tess of Toulouse, at the high cross, amidst the shouts of the
people, and the waving of ten thousand caps.
1 As late as the 17th century long hair was only worn by unmarried ladies,
and it was closely confined under the coif or crestine as soon as they became
matrons. It was remarked as an impudent assumption, that the beautiful, but
scandalous Countess of Essex (in the reign of James VI.) wore loose hair after
her infamous repudiation of her husband, and intrigue with the Earl of Roches-
ter.


THE VIGIL OF THE CROSS.
83
All the city was in a transport, for the constancy "of the
bright lady of the world," and the self-justice of her supposed
traitor knight. "Certainly," said the Vicar of St. John, “I
think him greater for this repenting, than if he had never had
tache or spot, not to speak of the ninety and nine in the
wilderness; he had then been but a puisnie saint, now he is
lith and blood like to you and me, but so as you and I shall
never be the greatest mortal man that ever quelled sinful
flesh."
―
A week of pomp and pageant, and all that the olden time
held gay and splendid, passed through Toulouse like a night's
masque, and again all returned to the quiet sunshine, and still
business of a simple summer's day.
The countess lived in deep seclusion, partly for that the
face of man was become terrible to her, partly for her feeble
state, which might not suffer ceremony and fatigue. The
leaves were falling, the birds had ceased to sing, and the sun
looked sad and still upon the yellow fields, when the uncon-
scious cause of her sorrow, was presented to the barons of
Languedoc in the great hall of Toulouse; "I do not wrong
them," said Raymond, to its heart-broken mother, as she wept
at his feet," My blood runs in the veins of none living;
there is none to claim the right—you shall make him worthy
to hold the sword and the coronet of a brave people, and God
and their service shall give him right, better than a name.”
•
It was the vigil of the cross; the night was dark and still
upon Toulouse. The quiet streets were silent and empty, and
all lights had gone out, except here and there a red solitary
candle shed its long still pencelle upon the waters of the
Garonne. The black pile of the vast chateau rose like a giant
over the dim town, and within the wide courts were silent and
deserted, and all dark and quiet except the stamp of a horse
that waited beside the postern, and one still solitary watch-light


84
BLANCHE ROSE.
that shone in an upper turret. About that light was gathered
all the interest of Toulouse, and perhaps an eye, born upon the
gifted night,' might have seen the dim spirits leaning together
over the turret, speaking the destinies of him, the last of his
race, who should inhabit those towers, and who now stood
within that dim still room.
It was a small dark turret chamber, hung with coarse arras,
and meanly garnished with such furniture as might become
the use of a simple esquire, or frugal steward,— a low pallet,
half concealed by a curtain of blue sey, filled a small recess
beyond the hearth, and at its head stood a long white wand
and a walking sword in a scabbard of green velvet. A black
carved armoire and oak chest occupied the opposite corners,
and the remaining space was no more than sufficient for a
tall high-back chair of black leather, and wide olive-wood
table, on which a number of papers, an almoniere, an aunlace,
and a heap of loose gold lay by a wax taper that burned under
the rood suspended against the wall.
Earl Raymond stood before the light in his travelling-cloak,
and his gray seneschal sat in the chair, his embossed hands
rested upon his knees, and his white bald brow lifted to the
face of his master.
"You know her not," said the earl; "I, who was nursed on
the same breast, rocked by the same hand, have grown with
her like the twin bud upon the stalk-I know her — and
God knows her, the bright noble ladye of the world; -- I loved
her, I will not say how I loved her; she was very lovely to me
but I was only as a brother to her, how could I be more,
and the glorious beautiful flower of all chivalry sworn to her ser
vice. Alas! that he had been true as I was, and I would have
It was an ancient superstition that persons born on Christmas-eve were en-
dued with vision sensible of all spirits and supernatural objects. To this cause
was referred the dark looks of Philip II. of Spain, whose mind was believed to
be impressed by awful appearances to which he was subject.
A


RAYMOND DEPARTS FOR THE HOLY LAND.
85
been a brother to him, as she was a sister to me! and since I am
the last of my race, they should have had fair Toulouse and my
broad earldom; and I would have been the soldier of the cross,
and prayed that they might have been happy."
"God be praised, that has given you to be happy with her
yourself," said the seneschal.
Raymond looked upon him as the spirits may look on man
that cannot read the secret thoughts of the world above.
"To-night," said he, "I go to the Holy Land."
"Blessed Saints! and leave your lady?" exclaimed the
seneschal.
The earl's cheek became white as his tabard, but his voice
did not change: "Be you very true and gentle to her, as you
have ever been to me," said he: "and serve her as if you were
born in her father's house, as you were born in mine; and
she shall still be your lady, and her lonely orpheline shall be
your earl, when I shall come no more."
"Alas! alas! what is this?" said the old man.
The earl stood a moment upon his sword: "You have been
young that now are old," said he, "you shall know that a
maiden's love is like the sunshine and the sweet moonlight; it
must shine in its own summer and its own still hour, and can-
not come through the cloud when you shall call it. I will
never be the cloud to her face, nor a chain upon the heart,
which I bound to me for its redeeming ; but she shall be
bright and free to shine like the sun upon the flower, and
God send a flower to blossom in her light, and be sweet and
bright and grateful to her as the rose to the morning, when I
am where the sun shall never shine again."
―
Never!
"And you will not come back!" said the old man.
Raymond laid his hand the cross
upon
The old man fell on his knees, and bent his white head
upon his master's hand, and wept like a child.
For a long time the count held his trembling hand, and
---
66
-
99


86
BLANCHE ROSE.
-
turned away his face, at last," Aymer!" said he, "God reward
your true and faithful service to me; I have done with this
world; I was a sclitary tree, without a parent, a brother, a
sister, to fill my heart — the last of my race. She was a very
bright flower to me, the rose to my bower, the sun to my
glory, the lamp to my holy shrine; I am going to die
before the cross as your father and mine; and we shall meet
together with them before His glorious throne."
The old man's sobs redoubled, and for a long while he
knelt and wept, and the earl said no more. At length his sobs
subsided, the stamp of the horse came from the gate; the earl
lifted him in silence; for some moments he wrote upon the
papers, and set his scal; and the old man told the gold and
put it in his purse. The knight took off his hat, and kissed
his furrowed cheek, and laid his hand upon his head, and for
one moment grasped his hands, and looked upon the cross
and turned suddenly to the door. The old man tottered
after with the light; but Raymond put him back with his
averted hand, and threw the cloak about him, and hurried
down the stair. The groom started up in his seat and threw
the bridle on the Arab, and Raymond leaped into the saddle;
the boy touched his bonnet and said some words, but the earl
gave no answer, and spurring through the gate, took the street
towards the east port.
There is a blank in the chronicle of Toulouse; who could
tell how Earl Raymond turned his back upon his people — the
tower where he was born, the roof where he was nursed, the
field where he had plucked the flower, and chased the linnet,
the garden where the rose of his love had blown
that rose
that was blighted, and faded, and never should bloom again
to him!
The monk did not write of it in his book, nor the trouba-
――


THE PAGE.
87
dour sing of it in his song; they said only, " Raymond de Tou-
louse shaped the cross on his sleeve and went to Holy Land."
It was the third evening after the earl and his company
arrived at Acre. The men-at-arms were busily disembarking
their horses to go forward for Jerusalem, and the knight sat
upon a stone by the beach, looking upon the bright water and
the sun that was going down, red and still, and far away on
France.
While he yet gazed, a slender boy, in the dress of a page,
came down the sand; he stopped and hesitated, and looked
towards the knight as he approached, but at last he came to
his side. Sir Raymond did not look up, and the boy stood and
held his bonnet and twisted the feather, and the color went and
came in his face, "Sir Earl!" said he, at last.
Raymond started as if one had struck him, on the cheek,
and at the sight of his face leaped from the stone and turned as
white as clay. It was a moment before his look came back.
"What would you, fair child?" said he, gently. The tears
came into the eyes of the timid boy. "Sir !" said he, "I am
an orphan child. My lord, that was very kind to me, is dead;
I would serve you, if it please you."
The earl's breast rose, and he turned away,
and looked upon
the sea; at last, From what country — what is your name?"
said he.
66
"Albert de la feuille morte," replied the boy; "my father
was of Provence," and his breath fluttered as if the memory
of his father and his land, rose in his heart.
"And have you no friends?" said Sir Raymond.
"I had one," replied the child.
"And where is he?" asked the knight.
The boy turned away, and sat down upon
the grass, and
leaned his head upon a stone.
The earl took his dark hand, and the tears came to his eyes


88
BLANCHE ROSE.
as he looked upon the slender fingers; "Alas!" said he, “ this
was never meant to burnish a helm, and hold a black stirrup! ”
"I will be very proud to hold the stirrup of a KNight of
JESU CHRIST," said the child.
1
The earl stood still for a moment, and held his hand with a
grasp, from which a mailed wrist might have shrunk, but the
boy did not shrink nor tremble.
"God save you, gentle child!" said the earl, at last, “ if you
will be pleased to serve me, I will be, not a master, but a
brother to you, while I am in this world; and when I am gone,
God will be a father."
The page fell upon his knee, and kissed his hand, and the
tears trickled fast to the stone, which was wet as dew where
his cheek had lain. The earl did not speak, but raised him
gently, and turned towards the town. As they went, he spoke
him softly, and glanced to his dark beautiful features and faded
habit; he looked yet scarce sixteen years, and wore the simple
hose and green kirtle, such as was usually the dress of pages
in the south of France; but except for this, and his accent, his
complexion was so dark, and his short curling hair so raven
black, none had believed that he had ever known another coun-
try than Greece or Syria. The earl discoursed him as they went,
and wondered at his gentilesse and learning; and when he
came to his inn, bestowed him in the especial charge of his
old minstrel.
"Here is a flower that I did not think to find in this desert
world," said he; "I pray you be very gentle to him."
The old man was himself a Provençal, and he laid his pillow
in the alcove, and set his meat as if he had been his own son,
and took his harp and played to him till he wept himself asleep
like a stilled infant. "Certainly," said he, when the earl
There was an order of this title, but at an earlier period it was applied gen-
erally to Christian knights, and in particular to the knights of the Croisade.


PREPARATION FOR THE ASSAULT.
89
asked about him the next day, "never such a gentle child
served among stern war men!" And in a little time," Le page
noir was the mignon of all the court." Unless at his service,
however, he was always sad and alone, and never spoke of his
native land and former days; and if the rude men urged him,
he turned away, and the tears came to his eyes, and he would go
to the sand or the rampart, though the sun was never so hot,
or the wind never so wild.
At length, upon the morrow of St. Turiel, the earl and all
the knights in Acre set out for Jerusalem, on sudden news that
the great assault should be given in six days. Through all that
long and terrible march' Albert rode beside the stirrup of
Sir Raymond, and when the Syrian sun burned at noon, and
the “dead wind” blew at night, he never eat till he had eaten,
nor drank till he had drunk, and served him at his board, and
watched by him when he slept. When the heart of many a
knight sunk in his hauberk, and the eye of the night-guard
closed under his helmet, Albert sat beside him, and fanned
away the fly from his cheek, and the mouse from his pillow,
and looked upon his face; and when his lips shrunk, and his
brow came dark, dropped his beads, and raised his cross, and
said "God give thee rest!"
It was the night before the assault. The camp was still and
quiet, and no sound came through the tents but the fitful stamp
of a horse at the picket, or the distant clank of a hammer at the
forge, where some man-at-arms still waited his armor for the
morning. The stars shone bright upon the dark field, and at
times the watch might hear the night-call upon Jerusalem; and,
as he walked before the tent, the whisper of shrift and abso-
lution, where the knights made a clean breast for the "battle
1 It must be remembered that this was in the twelfth century, and in time of
War-now it is only a ride of three days.
8


90
BLANCHE ROSE.
of God," and the rest in which so many should sleep when the
night should come again.
Earl Raymond lay asleep in his tent, his banner by his side,
and his sword at his head, where he had knelt before it when
the sun went down. Albert sat by his shoulder, his pale brow
fixed upon his face, and his still fingers rested on his crucifix.
You could not see the breath come and go upon his lips.
The broad hand of the knight lay unbent upon the pillow,
and his pale face calm, and his dark brow clear and smooth as
a sleeping child. Albert had never before seen the deep frown
relax from his front in all the nights that he had looked upon
it. For a moment he glanced up, and a flush came to his cheek,
and a light to his eyes; but all tears were gone, and they
looked full and still as the calm stars that were above him.
For an instant his lips moved, and he gazed upward; but
again his eyes returned to the pallet, and his features to their
watch.
All night he sat, and by degrees every sound died away :
the horse was still at his picket, and the sentinel at his post,
and for a short while there was a deep death stillness, and all
was hushed in heaven and on earth. It was the dead hour
the turning of the tide when the soul passes, and the spirits
in the grave are loosed - slowly a faint sweet strain of music
came by on the silence, and voices sung in the air —
-
Blessed is the heart when the sin-stain has gone ;
Blessed is the brow that His light shines upon.
And ever a pale still light shone upon the brow of Albert,
while he sat fixed and quiet as if he heard no sound, and felt no
light; and, whether it was the monks that sung in the valley, and
the moon that looked into the tent
but never song was so sweet
on earth, and never light shone so fair upon a mortal brow.
At length a faint stir began to come from the field, and at
intervals the jingle of bridles, the stamp of hoofs, the baying of


THE BENEDICTION.
91
a hound, and a sudden foot passing quickly by the tent. In
a short while the far cry of the mollahs could be heard upon
the towers, and the pale gray dawn stole dimly through the
curtain of the tent. Albert sat, and fixed his eyes upon the
light, as now a horse, and now a man came by, and now could
be distinguished the tread of heavy feet pouring through the
sand. Suddenly a trumpet sounded at a distance, and the
page started up, and laid his hand upon the breast of the earl.
Raymond awoke. "The first trumpet has sounded," said the
page.
The knight rose hastily, and put on his helm and hauberk.
Albert laced his casque, and buckled the spur to his heels,
and the broad belt to his side; and the earl knelt down before
his sword, and dropped his beads, and looked upon the cross
with a look that made Albert's cheek come pale. In a few
moments he rose and grasped the page's hand, and laid his
broad mailed glove upon his head, and sat down to the little
table beside the pallet. Albert served his frugal meal, and
took his trencher to sit by the door; but the earl made him sit
beside him at the same dish.
"It is the last that I may eat," said he. "There will be no
salt' between me and thee where we shall meet again."
Albert bent his head over the board, and said no word; but
the large round tear fell on his plate.
The short meal passed in silence, and the haste of those
who every moment expect to hear the trumpet sound to arms.
As soon as it was ended, the earl rose up and crossed himself,
and gave his hand to the page, and drank the grace-cup; and
when Albert had pledged him, he went to his mails, and took
out a heavy purse, and loosed from his neck a little white cross.
"Dear and faithful child," said he, "God be gracious to you,
and give you peace." He put the purse in his hand-
1 The great salt-cellar was the division between the "gentles" and "sim-
ples " "who sat at the same table in the old time.


92
BLANCHE ROSE.
"When thou and I shall part, return to thy country, and if
thou hast none better - to mine, where thou shalt find a very
gentle mistress, who will be to thee all that I would be."
Albert took the purse, and looked calm in his face, and
bowed his head, and said him-" Yes."
-
The earl looked on him for a moment, but his eyes did not
change. "Brave and constant child," he said, "God shall
not forsake thee; and now for none may know His will to-
day take this little cross that must not fall among his enemies.
If He give us the victory, thou shalt bury it with me in this
holy earth; but if in the great press, or the day shall go against
us, and I may not be found, take it with thee, give it to my lady,
from whom I had it, and say, “Raymond of Toulouse is gone
to his rest."
-
Albert had not changed before; but at the sight of that cross,
and the sound of those words, his color went out of his face,
and the hand that he held out fell to his side, and he sunk
down at the feet of the earl. Raymond lifted him to the pal-
let, and snatched the cruce, and hastened to loose his collar.
The hand of the page closed upon his arm, and he opened his
eyes, and sat upright. For an instant he gazed half conscious
to the light but there was no tear in his eyes, and no flutter
in his breast, and he rose up to take the earl's command.
"Alas, my child !" said Raymond, "thou art spent and
overwatched. Thy feeble body is too frail for thy spirit. Lie
down and rest, and fear not - all will be well."
-
He put the cross upon his neck, and made him lie on the
pallet, and covered him with his cloak, and taking his banner,
went out hastily from the tent.
Albert started up and gazed after him, and looked upon the
cross, and wept, and knelt, and laid it on his head, and bowed
his forehead on the mat that had been touched by the helmet of
the earl. Suddenly the trumpet began to sound, the quick clank
of arms, and the deep tramp of horses went past as if the earth


THE ASSAULT.
93
-
moved around him. Albert dropped the jewel, and listened,
and gazed where the heavy sound went by. The long suc-
cessive tramp continued without intermission, till a shock like
a clap of thunder burst upon the stillness, and a far fearful
rolling surge of shouts went up to heaven like the roar of a
tempest. In another moment the whole camp seemed to
tremble, bolt after bolt shook the walls of the city, and the
mingled cries and shouts, and clash of arms, spread like a
storm from the beach; and as the tongues of the hundred na-
tions rose and fell, came suddenly the faint shout of the
French, "Mont Joye St. Denis!" Albert started from the
ground, and braced his dagger, and did on his bonnet, and
rushed out from the tent.
The clear day was bright upon the camp, and the long black
lines of men-at-arms were pouring though the white tents like
torrents towards the town, but all beneath the wall was lost in
dust and smoke, through which the tall black giant tower of
assault rose almost as high as the ramparts, where the dim
gray battlements could be discerned crowded with men.
Al-
bert stood upon the rock under the standard before the tent,
and watched the black columns pouring into the cloud, which
swallowed them in its darkness. As the sun approached, the
faint flash of the crescents and crowded arms could be seen
glittering along the ramparts, and at quick intervals the fear-
ful shock of the war-wolves, sent up a cloud of dust from the
wall; and as it swept off, a deep black gap appeared in the
battlements and glittering line of arms. All at once the vast
dark mighty column of the tower began to move, and rose
slowly out of the smoke till it looked over the rampart; a
thunder of shouts rolled up from the hosts, and suddenly the
flash of arms and banners receded like a bright wave along
the wall. In an instant a little bridge fell from the top of the
turret upon the battlement, and a white knight, followed by a
glittering stream of glaives and lances rushed over to the ram-


94
BLANCHE ROSE.
part. A terrific cry came from the turret, and re-echoed
from the moat-"Raymond of Thoulouse! Raymond of
Thoulouse!!" and Albert distinguished the glorious figure of
his master and the white cross of France. One moment he
gazed, one moment he knelt upon the rock, one moment
lifted up his cross,
and rushed down into the stream of the
assault.
The black terrible tide went on like a torrent into the moat,
and the storm of the escalade thickened under the breach; but
nothing was visible in the thick darkness, and the black dense
press went on and disappeared into the cloud, man over man,
till it almost filled up the deep, black, visionless gulf of the
moat which roared round it like the bottomless pit. At inter-
vals the heavy shot' rebounded on the wall, and the rolling
ruin, and the storm of the defence rained down fire, and thun-
der, and battle sleet, through the black cloud: but the slow,
dark, iron tide went on- and on - and on
over the falling
heaps, till suddenly there was an explosion as if the heaven
and the earth burst amidst the darkness. A moment of fear-
ful stillness prevailed, the smoke rolled away, and the breach
appeared to the sun, and all the thick glittering stream of
helms and crosses going up over the ruined wall like a swarm
of locusts. Again there was rescue again the charge-
and as the cloud opened and shut now helmets, now turbans
glistened in the breach; but suddenly a broad bright gleam
broke on the towers, and the white figure of Earl Raymond
appeared on the top turret. A moment he stood amidst the
smoke in sight of all the hosts, and suddenly mounting the
bartizan pitched the white banner in the sun, and began to
sing the battle-hyma of Toulouse. The field - the breach-
the crowded towers sent up a shout like the sea roar, and as the
-
-
―――
1 The stones and various missiles of Balista, and other engines, were called
shot, as the engines and their materials were called artillery several centuries
before the invention of guns.


THE DISCOVERY.
95
bright silk flew in the wind, the darts and shot clinked upon
the knight's mail, and glanced through the fluttering banner
like sharp sleet. Raymond stood still amidst the shower,
waving his hand over the assault, and singing his chorus;
Soli Deo Gloria
Et Sancti Salvatori!
Corona de Victoria
Sub Cruci Vivi mori!¹
As the coming stream poured up towards him, a sudden
crowding, a dark object appeared upon a turret, and the black
bow of a scorpion moved on the wall, and levelled upon the
knight. For an instant it lay upon the battlement, till sud-
denly the bright eye of the arrow looked at him over the stone;
a universal cry and waving of hands and caps came from the
assault, but Raymond stood still, waving his hand, and singing
the song, till a wild cry, a flying shadow came through the
smoke, and at the moment that the dart parted from the cord,
Albert threw himself upon the breast of his master, the hissing
shaft struck short and sharp in his back, and he dropped from
the bosom of the knight upon the rampart.
The dart snapped upon the stone, but the bright point stood
stiff and red through the breast of his coat; Raymond dropped
the banner, and gave a cry of grief, and drew out the broken
wood; and as the clear blood gushed after, tore open the breast
of the page to stanch the wound, when, as he undid the gorget,
he discovered, not the dark neck of a sunburnt boy, but the
white snowy throat of a maiden bosom !
In the middle ages the vulgar Latin was little more than a patois through
most parts of Europe. There are some MSS. almost unintelligible from the
number of barbarous words, and the confusion of Latin and native termina-
tions; and in many serious pieces the language was little more pure than the
doggerel rhyme in which the English monks satirized the ignorance of the
Lollards.
"My name is Tutivilus, my horn is blowen,
Fragmina verborum Tuttivillus colligit horum
Belzebub algorum Belial bellman doliorum "


96
BLANCHE ROSE.
She turned her face to the stone- "Thank God!" she
said, "I die for you, as you died for me!"
Raymond raised her eagerly in his arms "Who! Who
are you?" he exclaimed, looking wildly upon her dark face
and snow-white bosom.
-
-
"I was-Blanche Rose!" wispered the page.
Raymond fell upon her face, and for a moment held her to
his mailed breast as still and silent as herself; but suddenly
he started up, and rending his surcoat, bound the fillets round
her bleeding breast; but still as he wound fold over fold with
wild eagerness, the red blood came through the silk.
"It is not painful," said Blanche, "it will soon be past!"
Raymond dropped the last bandage, and gazed upon her
with the fixedness of despair, as she lay still in his arms, her
white passive face reclined upon his breast, and her cold
hand resting quiet in his mail glove. For awhile she lay like
one composing into sleep, and at last she lifted her heavy
eyes
"I am happy! I die in peace!" she said; and turned her
face to his bosom like an infant to his rest; and one long trem-
ulous sigh, and her breast came still, her hand unclosed, the
smile fixed on her white lip, and the tear in her eye, and she
lay calm, and still, and placid, like a child on its parent lap.
They buried them together in the valley of Jehosaphat, and
raised over them a grave of simple turf; for he said, "Let our
pillow be the earth where He has trodden, and let His light
shine upon us by day, and His dew come down upon our
breast at night."
There is a palm-tree at the head of the heap, and a little
well at the foot, and one white rose of Sharon that blossoms
very sweet over the brink, and sheds the incense of the earth
over their breasts who sleep below.


JORDAN & WILEY,
121, Washington Street, opposite Water Street-
PUBLISHERS, BOOKSELLERS, STATIONERS,
AND
Boston.
-
GENERAL PERIODICAL AGENTS.
OFFICE
of the Lady's Book-Graham's Magazine-Columbian Mag-
azine-Parley's and Merry's Museum-Hunt's Mer-
chants Magazine-The Mother's Magazine-
all the Foreign Reviews, &c. &c.
Binding in every style executed with neatness and despatch.
Back Nos. of any works supplied to complete volumes.
A BEAUTIFUL SUMMER GIFT VOLUME.
FLOWERS:
THEIR MORAL, LANGUAGE AND POETRY.
EDITED BY H. G. ADAMS.
London Edition. Price 75 cents.
"I have gathered a nosegay o culled flowers, and brought nothing of my
own but the thread that ties them."
Just received - JORDAN & WILEY, 121, Washington St.
a


LIST OF
VALUABLE SCHOOL & MISCELLANEOUS
BOOKS,
ISSUED BY
JORDAN, SWIFT & WILEY,
(OLD STAND OF JORDAN & CO.)
121 Washington Street, Boston.
12mo., sheep.
12mo., sheep.
2 vols. 8vo., cloth.
12mo., sheep.
12mo., paper.
COLBURN'S SEQUEL.
66
ALGEBRA.
TYTLER'S UNIVERSAL HISTORY.
PARKER'S NATURAL PHILOSOPHY.
CLARK'S LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN.
REMARKABLE VISIONS OF THE LIFE
DEATH. Translated from the German.
GAME OF LIFE. With Engravings by Retzsch..
COMBE ON THE CONSTITUTION OF MAN.
66 DIGESTION AND DIETETICS.
FARMER'S COMPANION; or, Essays on the Principles and
66
Practice of American Husbandry. By the late Judge BUEL. 12mo., cloth.
GALL'S WORKS.
6 vols. 12mo., cloth.
2 vols. 12mo., cloth.
GRAHAM'S SCIENCE OF HUMAN LIFE.
HISTORICAL TALES FOR YOUTH. By Miss M.E.LEE. 18mo., cloth.
LADIES' WREATH. By Mrs. S. J. HALE.
12mo., cloth.
PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE UNDER DIFFICULTIES.
Edited by Rev. Dr. WAYLAND. With Portraits. 2 vols. 12mo., cloth
PICTURES OF EARLY LIFE. By Mrs. E. C. EMEURY. 18mo., cloth.
PALEY'S NATURAL THEOLOGY. From Bell and
AFTER
12mo., paper.
4to., paper.
12mo., cloth.
18mo., cloth.
·
Brougham's edition, with a Life of the Author, numerous
Engravings, and an Appendix of Additions from Lord
Brougham's Work on Natural Theology. Edited by ELI-
SHA BARTLETT, M. D.
SEASONS, (Sacred Philosophy of.) Edited by Rev. F. W.
P. D. D.
SHAW'S CIVIL ARCHITECTURE. With 100 Copper-
plate Engravings..
TEACHER'S MANUAL, (American Institute's Prize Es-
say.) By THOMAS H. PALMER.
TEACHER TAUGHT, or, The Principles and Modes of
Teaching. By Rev. EMERSON DAVIS.
12mo., cloth.
COLUMBUS. WASHINGTON IRVING'S Abridgment of his
large Work. Plates.
12mo., cloth.
DOMESTIC ECONOMY. For the Use of Young Ladies
at Home and at School. By Miss C. E. BEECHER. 12mo., cloth.
FLORA'S INTERPRETER. By Mrs.S. J. HALE.
12mo., fancy.
66
66
66
66
12mo., emb.mor.
2 vols. 12mo., cloth.
•
4 vols. 12mo., cloth.
4to., sheep.
12mo., cloth.
HAYWARD'S OUTLINES OF PHYSIOLOGY, for Schools. 12mo.,sheep.
OLMSTED'S (Prof. Dennison) LETTERS ON ASTRON-
OMY. Addressed to a Lady. Numerous Engravings. 12mo., cloth.
STORY'S (Judge) FAMILIAR EXPOSITION OF THE
CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES,
cloth.
USEFUL ARTS, Considered in Connection with the Appli-
cations of Science. By JACOB BIGELOW, M. D. 2 vols. 12mo., cloth.
·


JORDAN, SWIFT & WILEY'S PUBLICATIONS.
COLBURN'S SEQUEL.
THIS work consists of two parts, in the first of which the author has
given a great variety of questions, arranged according to the method pur-
sued in the First Lessons; the second part consists of a few questions,
with the solution of them, and such copious illustrations of the principles
involved in the examples in the first part of the work, that the whole is
rendered perfectly intelligible. The two parts are designed to be studied
together. The answers to the questions in the first part are given in a
Key, which is published separately for the use of instructors. If the
scholar find any sum difficult, he must turn to the principles and illustra-
tions given in the second part, and these will furnish all the assistance
that is needed.
The design of this arrangement is to make the scholar understand his
subject thoroughly, instead of performing his sums by rule.
The First Lessons contain only examples of numbers so small, that
they can be solved without the use of a slate. The Sequel commences
with small and simple combinations, and proceeds gradually to the more
extensive and varied, and the scholar will rarely have occasion for a prin-
ciple in arithmetic which is not fully illustrated in this work.
J. S. & W. also supply to the Trade, at the lowest prices, all Standard
Periodicals, with all the cheap and other Publications of the day, issued
in Boston, Philadelphia, and New York. They are Agents for
Godey's Lady's Book; Ladies' Companion; Graham's Magazine; each, $3,00,
yearly. Christian Family Magazine, (with engravings,) $1,00. Hunt's Mer-
chant's Magazine, an invaluable record of statistics, &c., $5,00. Ladies' Gar-
land, (monthly,) $1,00. Ladies' Musical Library, (monthly,) $1,50. National
Preacher, $1,00. Mother's Magazine, $1,00. The London Christian Observer,
(monthly,) $2,50 Bell's Medical Library, (quarterly,) $5,00. Arthur's Mag-
azine, (monthly,) $2,00. Democratic Review, (with portraits in each number,)
$5,00. Southern Literary Messenger, $5,00. Silliman's American Journal
of Science, $6,00. Law Library, $10,00. The Medico-Chirurgical Review,
$5,00. The Reprints of the London, Edinburgh, Foreign, and Westminster
Reviews, the four together, $8,00. Blackwood's Magazine, $3,00. The Ec-
lectic Magazine, (of Foreign Literature,) $6,00. The Living Age, $6,00. The
Christian Examiner, $4,00. The Biblical Repository, $3,00. Parley's and
Merry's Magazines for Youth, $1,00. The Knickerbocker,. $5,00. Law Re-
porter, $3,00. The Mother's Assistant, $1,90. The North American Review,
$5,00. The Lowell Offering, by the Female Operatives, $1,00; and other
American and Foreign Works.
Orders for any School, Miscellaneous, or Religious Works, or
School Apparatus, accompanied with the money will receive prompt
attention.


90
BLANCHE ROSE.
of God," and the rest in which so many should sleep when the
night should come again.
Earl Raymond lay asleep in his tent, his banner by his side,
and his sword at his head, where he had knelt before it when
the sun went down. Albert sat by his shoulder, his pale brow
fixed upon his face, and his still fingers rested on his crucifix.
You could not see the breath come and go upon his lips.
The broad hand of the knight lay unbent upon the pillow,
and his pale face calm, and his dark brow clear and smooth as
a sleeping child. Albert had never before seen the deep frown
relax from his front in all the nights that he had looked upon
it. For a moment he glanced up, and a flush came to his cheek,
and a light to his eyes; but all tears were gone, and they
looked full and still as the calm stars that were above him.
For an instant his lips moved, and he gazed upward; but
again his eyes returned to the pallet, and his features to their
watch.
All night he sat, and by degrees every sound died away:
the horse was still at his picket, and the sentinel at his post,
and for a short while there was a deep death stillness, and all
was hushed in heaven and on earth. It was the dead hour-
the turning of the tide when the soul passes, and the spirits
in the grave are loosed-slowly a faint sweet strain of music
came by on the silence, and voices sung in the air
―――
-
Blessed is the heart when the sin-stain has gone;
Blessed is the brow that His light shines upon.
--
-
And ever a pale still light shone upon the brow of Albert,
while he sat fixed and quiet as if he heard no sound, and felt no
light; and, whether it was the monks that sung in the valley, and
the moon that looked into the tent
- but never song was so sweet
on earth, and never light shone so fair upon a mortal brow.
At length a faint stir began to come from the field, and at
intervals the jingle of bridles, the stamp of hoofs, the baying of


THE BENEDICTION.
91
a hound, and a sudden foot passing quickly by the tent. In
a short while the far cry of the mollahs could be heard upon
the towers, and the pale gray dawn stole dimly through the
curtain of the tent. Albert sat, and fixed his eyes upon the
light, as now a horse, and now a man came by, and now could
be distinguished the tread of heavy feet pouring through the
sand. Suddenly a trumpet sounded at a distance, and the
page started up,
and laid his hand upon the breast of the earl.
Raymond awoke. "The first trumpet has sounded," said the
page.
The knight rose hastily, and put on his helm and hauberk.
Albert laced his casque, and buckled the spur to his heels,
and the broad belt to his side; and the earl knelt down before
his sword, and dropped his beads, and looked upon the cross
with a look that made Albert's cheek come pale. In a few
moments he rose and grasped the page's hand, and laid his
broad mailed glove upon his head, and sat down to the little
table beside the pallet. Albert served his frugal meal, and
took his trencher to sit by the door; but the earl made him sit
beside him at the same dish.
"It is the last that I may eat," said he.
"There will be no
salt' between me and thee where we shall meet again."
Albert bent his head over the board, and said no word; but
the large round tear fell on his plate.
The short meal passed in silence, and the haste of those
who every moment expect to hear the trumpet sound to arms.
As soon as it was ended, the earl rose up and crossed himself,
and gave his hand to the page, and drank the grace-cup; and
when Albert had pledged him, he went to his mails, and took
out a heavy purse, and loosed from his neck a little white cross.
"Dear and faithful child," said he, "God be gracious to you,
and give you peace." He put the purse in his hand
1 The great salt-cellar was the division between the "gentles" and "sim-
ples" who sat at the same table in the old time.


92
BLANCHE ROSE.
"When thou and I shall part, return to thy country, and if
thou hast none better- to mine, where thou shalt find a very
gentle mistress, who will be to thee all that I would be."
Albert took the purse, and looked calm in his face, and
bowed his head, and said him- "Yes."
The earl looked on him for a moment, but his eyes did not
change. "Brave and constant child," he said, "God shall
not forsake thee; and now- for none may know His will to-
day take this little cross that must not fall among his enemies.
If He give us the victory, thou shalt bury it with me in this
holy earth; but if in the great press, or the day shall go against
us, and I may not be found, take it with thee, give it to my lady,
from whom I had it, and say, "Raymond of Toulouse is gone
to his rest."
-
-
-
Albert had not changed before; but at the sight of that cross,
and the sound of those words, his color went out of his face,
and the hand that he held out fell to his side, and he sunk
down at the feet of the earl. Raymond lifted him to the pal-
let, and snatched the cruce, and hastened to loose his collar.
The hand of the page closed upon his arm, and he opened his
eyes, and sat upright. For an instant he gazed half conscious
to the light but there was no tear in his eyes, and no flutter
in his breast, and he rose up to take the earl's command.
66
'Alas, my child !" said Raymond, "thou art spent and
overwatched. Thy feeble body is too frail for thy spirit. Lie
down and rest, and fear not all will be well."
He put the cross upon his neck, and made him lie on the
pallet, and covered him with his cloak, and taking his banner,
went out hastily from the tent.
Albert started up and gazed after him, and looked upon the
cross, and wept, and knelt, and laid it on his head, and bowed
his forehead on the mat that had been touched by the helmet of
the earl. Suddenly the trumpet began to sound, the quick clank
of arms, and the deep tramp of horses went past as if the earth
-


THE ASSAULT.
93
moved around him. Albert dropped the jewel, and listened,
and gazed where the heavy sound went by. The long suc-
cessive tramp continued without intermission, till a shock like
a clap of thunder burst upon the stillness, and a far fearful
rolling surge of shouts went up to heaven like the roar of a
tempest. In another moment the whole camp seemed to
tremble, bolt after bolt shook the walls of the city, and the
mingled cries and shouts, and clash of arms, spread like a
storm from the beach; and as the tongues of the hundred na-
tions rose and fell, came suddenly the faint shout of the
French," Mont Joye St. Denis!" Albert started from the
ground, and braced his dagger, and did on his bonnet, and
rushed out from the tent.
The clear day was bright upon the camp, and the long black
lines of men-at-arms were pouring though the white tents like
torrents towards the town, but all beneath the wall was lost in
dust and smoke, through which the tall black giant tower of
assault rose almost as high as the ramparts, where the dim
gray battlements could be discerned crowded with men. Al-
bert stood upon the rock under the standard before the tent,
and watched the black columns pouring into the cloud, which
swallowed them in its darkness. As the sun approached, the
faint flash of the crescents and crowded arms could be seen
glittering along the ramparts, and at quick intervals the fear-
ful shock of the war-wolves, sent up a cloud of dust from the
wall; and as it swept off, a deep black gap appeared in the
battlements and glittering line of arms. All at once the vast
dark mighty column of the tower began to move,
and rose
slowly out of the smoke till it looked over the rampart; a
thunder of shouts rolled up from the hosts, and suddenly the
flash of arms and banners receded like a bright wave along
the wall. In an instant a little bridge fell from the top of the
turret upon the battlement, and a white knight, followed by a
glittering stream of glaives and lances rushed over to the ram-


94
BLANCHE ROSE.
part. A terrific cry came from the turret, and re-echoed
from the moat-"Raymond of Thoulouse! Raymond of
Thoulouse!!" and Albert distinguished the glorious figure of
his master and the white cross of France. One moment he
gazed, one moment he knelt upon the rock, one moment
lifted up his cross, and rushed down into the stream of the
assault.
――――
The black terrible tide went on like a torrent into the moat,
and the storm of the escalade thickened under the breach; but
nothing was visible in the thick darkness, and the black dense
press went on and disappeared into the cloud, man over man,
till it almost filled up the deep, black, visionless gulf of the
moat which roared round it like the bottomless pit. At inter-
vals the heavy shot' rebounded on the wall, and the rolling
ruin, and the storm of the defence rained down fire, and thun-
der, and battle sleet, through the black cloud but the slow,
dark, iron tide went on- and on
- and on
over the falling
heaps, till suddenly there was an explosion as if the heaven
and the earth burst amidst the darkness. A moment of fear-
ful stillness prevailed, the smoke rolled away, and the breach
appeared to the sun, and all the thick glittering stream of
helms and crosses going up over the ruined wall like a swarm
of locusts. Again there was rescue again the charge-
and as the cloud opened and shut now helmets, now turbans
glistened in the breach; but suddenly a broad bright gleam
broke on the towers, and the white figure of Earl Raymond
appeared on the top turret. A moment he stood amidst the
smoke in sight of all the hosts, and suddenly mounting the
bartizan pitched the white banner in the sun, and began to
sing the battle-hyma of Toulouse. The field the breach-
the crowded towers sent up a shout like the sea roar,
and as
the
-
-
-
1 The stones and various missiles of Balista, and other engines, were called
shot, as the engines and their materials were called artillery several centuries
before the invention of guns.


THE DISCOVERY.
95
bright silk flew in the wind, the darts and shot clinked upon
the knight's mail, and glanced through the fluttering banner
like sharp sleet. Raymond stood still amidst the shower,
waving his hand over the assault, and singing his chorus;
Soli Deo Gloria
Et Sancti Salvatori!
Corona de Victoria
Sub Cruci Vivi mori! 1
As the coming stream poured up towards him, a sudden
crowding, a dark object appeared upon a turret, and the black
bow of a scorpion moved on the wall, and levelled upon the
knight. For an instant it lay upon the battlement, till sud-
denly the bright eye of the arrow looked at him over
stone;
a universal cry and waving of hands and caps came from the
assault, but Raymond stood still, waving his hand, and singing
the song, till a wild cry, a flying shadow came through the
smoke, and at the moment that the dart parted from the cord,
Albert threw himself upon the breast of his master, the hissing
shaft struck short and sharp in his back, and he dropped from
the bosom of the knight upon the rampart.
The dart snapped upon the stone, but the bright point stood
stiff and red through the breast of his coat; Raymond dropped
the banner, and gave a cry of grief, and drew out the broken
wood; and as the clear blood gushed after, tore open the breast
of the page to stanch the wound, when, as he undid the gorget,
he discovered, not the dark neck of a sunburnt boy, but the
white snowy throat of a maiden bosom !
1 In the middle ages the vulgar Latin was little more than a patois through
most parts of Europe. There are some MSS. almost unintelligible from the
number of barbarous words, and the confusion of Latin and native termina-
tions; and in many serious pieces the language was little more pure than the
doggerel rhyme in which the English monks satirized the ignorance of the
Lollards.
"My name is Tutivilus, my horn is blowen,
Fragmina verborum Tuttivillus colligit horum
Belzebub algorum Belial bellman doliorum"


96
BLANCHE ROSE.
She turned her face to the stone "Thank God!" she
said, "I die for you, as you died for me!"
Raymond raised her eagerly in his arms "Who! Who
are you?" he exclaimed, looking wildly upon her dark face
and snow-white bosom.
―――――
-
-
"I was-Blanche Rose!" wispered the page.
Raymond fell upon her face, and for a moment held her to
his mailed breast as still and silent as herself; but suddenly
he started up, and rending his surcoat, bound the fillets round
her bleeding breast; but still as he wound fold over fold with
wild eagerness, the red blood came through the silk.
"It is not painful," said Blanche, "it will soon be past!"
Raymond dropped the last bandage, and gazed upon her
with the fixedness of despair, as she lay still in his arms, her
white passive face reclined upon his breast, and her cold
hand resting quiet in his mail glove. For awhile she lay like
one composing into sleep, and at last she lifted her heavy
eyes
""
'I am happy! I die in peace!" she said; and turned her
face to his bosom like an infant to his rest; and one long trem-
ulous sigh, and her breast came still, her hand unclosed, the
smile fixed on her white lip, and the tear in her eye, and she
lay calm, and still, and placid, like a child on its parent lap.
They buried them together in the valley of Jehosaphat, and
raised over them a grave of simple turf; for he said, “Let our
pillow be the earth where He has trodden, and let His light
shine upon us by day, and His dew come down upon our
breast at night."
There is a palm-tree at the head of the heap, and a little
well at the foot, and one white rose of Sharon that blossoms
very sweet over the brink, and sheds the incense of the earth
over their breasts who sleep below.


JORDAN & WILEY,
121, Washington Street, opposite Water Street Boston.
PUBLISHERS, BOOKSELLERS, STATIONERS,
AND
GENERAL PERIODICAL AGENTS.
OFFICE
of the Lady's Book-Graham's Magazine-Columbian Mag-
azine-Parley's and Merry's Museum-Hunt's Mer-
chants Magazine-The Mother's Magazine-
all the Foreign Reviews, &c. &c.
Binding in every style executed with neatness and despatch.
Back Nos. of any works supplied to complete volumes.
A BEAUTIFUL SUMMER GIFT VOLUME.
FLOWERS:
THEIR MORAL, LANGUAGE AND POETRY.
EDITED BY H. G. ADAMS.
London Edition. Price 75 cents.
"I have gathered a nosegay of culled flowers, and brought nothing of my
own but the thread that ties them."
Just received - JORDAN & WILEY, 121, Washington St.
a


LIST OF
VALUABLE SCHOOL & MISCELLANEOUS
BOOKS,
ISSUED BY
JORDAN, SWIFT & WILEY,
(OLD STAND OF JORDAN & CO.)
121 Washington Street, Boston.
•
12mo., sheep.
12mo., sheep.
2 vols. 8vo., cloth.
12mo., sheep.
12mo., paper.
COLBURN'S SEQUEL.
66
ALGEBRA.
TYTLER'S UNIVERSAL HISTORY.
PARKER'S NATURAL PHILOSOPHY.
CLARK'S LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN.
REMARKABLE VISIONS OF THE LIFE
DEATH. Translated from the German.
GAME OF LIFE. With Engravings by Retzsch.
COMBE ON THE CONSTITUTION OF MAN.
66 DIGESTION AND DIETETICS.
FARMER'S COMPANION; or, Essays on the Principles and
Practice of American Husbandry. By the late Judge BUEL. 12mo., cloth.
GALL'S WORKS.
6 vols. 12mo., cloth.
GRAHAM'S SCIENCE OF HUMAN LIFE. 2 vols. 12mo., cloth.
HISTORICAL TALES FOR YOUTH. By Miss M.E.LEE. 18mo., cloth.
LADIES' WREATH. By Mrs. S. J. HALE.
12mo., cloth.
PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE UNDER DIFFICULTIES.
66
Edited by Rev. Dr. WAYLAND. With Portraits. 2 vols. 12mo., cloth
PICTURES OF EARLY LIFE. By Mrs. E. C. EMBURY. 18mo., cloth.
PALEY'S NATURAL THEOLOGY. From Bell and
AFTER
Brougham's edition, with a Life of the Author, numerous
Engravings, and an Appendix of Additions from Lord
Brougha Work on Natural Theology. Edited by ELI-
SHA BARTLETT, M. D.
SEASONS, (Sacred Philosophy of.) Edited by Rev. F. W.
P. D. D.
SHAW'S CIVIL ARCHITECTURE. With 100 Copper-
plate Engravings..
TEACHER'S MANUAL, (American Institute's Prize Es-
say.) By THOMAS H. PALMER.
TEACHER TAUGHT; or, The Principles and Modes of
Teaching. By Rev. EMERSON DAVIS.
COLUMBUS. WASHINGTON IRVING'S Abridgment of his
large Work.
12mo., paper.
4to., paper.
12mo., cloth.
18mo., cloth.
2 vols. 12mo., cloth.
4 vols. 12mo., cloth.
4to., sheep.
12mo., cloth.
•
·
·
12mo., cloth.
12mo., cloth.
12mo., cloth.
12mo., fancy.
12mo., emb.mor.
HAYWARD'S OUTLINES OF PHYSIOLOGY, for Schools. 12mo.,sheep.
OLMSTED'S (Prof. Dennison) LETTERS ON ASTRON-
OMY. Addressed to a Lady. Numerous Engravings.
12mo., cloth.
STORY'S (Judge) FAMILIAR EXPOSITION OF THE
CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES.
cloth.
USEFUL ARTS, Considered in Connection with the Appli-
cations of Science. By JACOB BIGELOW, M. D. 2 vols. 12mo., cloth.
Plates.
DOMESTIC ECONOMY. For the Use of Young Ladies
at Home and at School. By Miss C. E. BEECHER.
FLORA'S INTERPRETER. By Mrs.S. J. HALE.
(6
66
"
66
.
•
•


JORDAN, SWIFT & WILEY'S PUBLICATIONS.
COLBURN'S SEQUEL.
THIS work consists of two parts, in the first of which the author has
given a great variety of questions, arranged according to the method pur-
sued in the First Lessons; the second part consists of a few questions,
with the solution of them, and such copious illustrations of the principles
involved in the examples in the first part of the work, that the whole is
rendered perfectly intelligible. The two parts are designed to be studied
together. The answers to the questions in the first part are given in a
Key, which is published separately for the use of instructors. If the
scholar find any sum difficult, he must turn to the principles and illustra-
tions given in the second part, and these will furnish all the assistance
that is needed.
The design of this arrangement is to make the scholar understand his
subject thoroughly, instead of performing his sums by rule.
The First Lessons contain only examples of numbers so small, that
they can be solved without the use of a slate. The Sequel commences
with small and simple combinations, and proceeds gradually to the more
extensive and varied, and the scholar will rarely have occasion for a prin-
ciple in arithmetic which is not fully illustrated in this work.
J. S. & W. also supply to the Trade, at the lowest prices, all Standard
Periodicals, with all the cheap and other Publications of the day, issued
in Boston, Philadelphia, and New York. They are Agents for
Godey's Lady's Book; Ladies' Companion; Graham's Magazine; each, $3,00,
yearly. Christian Family Magazine, (with engravings,) $1,00. Hunt's Mer-
chant's Magazine, an invaluable record of statistics, &c., $5,00. Ladies' Gar-
land, (monthly,) $1,00. Ladies' Musical Library, (monthly,) $1,50. National
Preacher, $1,00. Mother's Magazine, $1,00. The London Christian Observer,
(monthly,) $2,50 Bell's Medical Library, (quarterly,) $5,00. Arthur's Mag-
azine, (monthly,) $2,00. Democratic Review, (with portraits in each number,)
$5,00. Southern Literary Messenger, $5,00. Silliman's American Journal
of Science, $6,00. Law Library, $10,00. The Medico-Chirurgical Review,
$5,00. The Reprints of the London, Edinburgh, Foreign, and Westminster
Reviews, the four together, $8,00. Blackwood's Magazine, $3,00. The Ec-
lectic Magazine, (of Foreign Literature,) $6,00. The Living Age, $6,00. The
Christian Examiner, $1,00. The Biblical Repository, $3,00. Parley's and
Merry's Magazines for Youth, $1,00. The Knickerbocker,. $5,00. Law Re-
porter, $3,03. The Mother's istant, $1,90. The North American Review,
$5,00. The Lowell Offering, by the Female Operatives, $1,00; and other
American and Foreign Works.
Orders for any School, Miscellaneous, or Religious Works, or
School Apparatus, accompanied with the money will receive prompt
attention.


JORDAN AND WILEY'S PUBLICATIONS.
HAVE YOU READ SIX YEARS IN THE
MONASTERIES
OF ITALY,
BY REV. S. J. MAHONEY,
Formerly a Capuchin Friar in the Convent of the Immaculate Conception,
at Rome.
It is among the most entertaining books of the day, containing a
truthful narrative of the habits of the Popish Priests in Ireland,
France, Malta, &c. and a description of Convent life, written with
ability, and free from indelicate and offensive matter. Price 37 1-2
cents. Liberal discount to the trade at
JORDAN & WILEY'S, 121, Washington Street.
CHOICE NEW BOOKS
FOR EVERY FAMILY CIRCLE.
INTEGRITY - MODERATION - DECISION — SELF-
DENIAL-REFLECTION - ENERGY.
BY MRS. HOFLAND, Author of young cadet, cLERGYMAN'S WIDOW, ETC.
These volumes, from the pen of a popular English writer, are
just issued by Messrs. Jordan & Wiley, 121 Washington Street.
The titles of the several volumes indicate the subjects illustrated
and enforced in the author's winning and popular style, and show
them to constitute together a most charming and useful series for
every Family Library,
FOR YOUNG AND OLD.
The volumes average 160 18mo pages each. Price a volume, in
gilt cloth, 37 1-2 cts. Paper, 25 cts.


JORDAN AND WILEY'S ADVERTISEMENT.
The following letters have been received, relating to this val
uable remedy.
From Rev. Mr. Lawrance of Haverhill.
BOSTON, NOVEMBER 22, 1844
To the Proprietors of the Bronchial Comfit.
GENTLEMEN: Having suffered with Bronchial difficulty for the
last three or four years, and having made use of the materials of your
preparation with decided benefit, although in a less perfect combina-
tion than I find yours to be, I am happy to give it my cordial approval.
I have tried various remedial means, but with little or no good effect.
I believe that clerical gentlemen, especially, who have been troubled
with similar difficulties in public speaking, would derive essential
advantage from the use of your preparation. From sympathy with
such sufferers, I give it my cordial recommendation to them.
EDWARD A. LAWRANCE.
From a distinguished Unitarian Preacher of Boston.
From the use of the Bronchial Comfit, and from the nature and prop-
erties of some of the ingredients that enter into its composition, I am
enabled to say, as I do say very cheerfully, that I have the utmost
confidence in its adaptedness to relieve public speakers, and to allay
irritation after exercise of speaking is over. If preachers would
employ it generally after exertion of the voice, they would unquestion-
ably find it the means of much comfort, and a safeguard against
disease.
DECEMBER, 1844.
From Rev. S. Remington, (formerly a Physician.)
DEAR SIR: From my knowledge of the different articles of which
your lozenges are composed, I am prepared to say that they are not only
safe, but very excellent for public speakers, to enable them to guard
against and counteract Hoarseness. By the too frequent exercise of
the organs of the voice and by those catarrhal attacks peculiar to this
climate, the uvula becomes greatly elongated, and dipping down upon
the epiglottis, troublesome irritation attended by cough often follows.
The parts also which surround the uvula, its curtain and glands, are
b


JORDAN AND WILEY'S ADVERTISEMENT.
liable to become weakened and relaxed, the consequence of which is
the secretion of too much mucous, causing a roughness of the voice
and a difficulty of speaking, and laying the foundation for throat dis-
ease, bronchitis, &c. For all these difficulties, these lozenges furnish
a gentle and grateful stimulant, which cleans the voice by contracting
the muscular fibre, and so relieving the parts from irritations, and I
therefore most cheerfully recommend them as a very excellent palli-
ative. Yours truly,
S. REMINGTON.
From Edwin Forrest, the celebrated Tragedian.
GENTLEMEN: I have used your "Bronchial Comfit," and recom-
mend it to public speakers as an excellent remedy for hoarseness, or
huskiness of voice. Yours respectfully, EDWIN FORREST.
From Messrs. Murdoch & Russell, Elocutionists.
To the Proprietors of the Bronchial Comfit.
SIR-In answer to your inquiry regarding our opinion of your Bron-
chial Comfit, we would say that we have ourselves used it for some
time, and that many of our students have done the same, with great
advantage. It seems well adapted to its purpose; and, as we fre-
quently have occasion to answer inquiries respecting the best prepara-
tion of the kind, for the use of public speakers, we shall be happy to
recommend your Comfit as such.
We are, Sir, yours respectfully,
J. E. MURDOCH.
WILLIAM RUSSELL,
From Messrs. Baker & Woodbury, Professors of Music.
GENTLEMEN: I have used your preparation and recommended it
to others, not only as an effective remedy against irritations of the
throat, arising from colds, or long continued exertion of the voice, but
also as a valuable aid to the flexibility of the organs, and to freedom of
execution in vocal effort.
B. F. BAKER.
ODEON, December 6, 1844.
GENTS I have used the Bronchial Comfit as a remedy for hoarse-
ness and means for allaying all irritations of Vocal organs. I consider
it admirably adapted for these purposes. Many of my pupils have used
it also with the most beneficial results.
I. B. WOODBURY.
•


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JORDAN AND WILEY'S ADVERTISEMENT.
NEW REMEDY
FOR BRONCHITIS, HOARSENESS, COLDS, AND INFLUENZA.
This preparation is intended to allay all irritation of the Larynx,
Trachea, or Bronchial Tubes. It will be found equally serviceable
in cases arising from chronic inflammation, and those caused by the
transient effects of colds. Its properties are such as to impart a
soothing and mollifying sensation to the membranous surfaces
when excited, whether by the effects of influenza, or of unusual
exertion in public speaking, and other uses of the vocal organs.
Clergymen, Public and Private Singers, and other persons suf-
fering from Affections of the Throat, Hoarseness, Colds of longer or
shorter duration, or other impediments of the voice, will find this a
most important discovery. It is entirely free from all deleterious
ingredients, and has been prepared under the best medical super-
vision. Price, 25 cents per box. Sold for Proprietors only at
JORDAN & WILEY'S Bookstore. Also, at V. CLIRHUGH'S,
205 Broadway, New York; and the principal Booksellers.
To persons suffering from Catarrhal and Bronchial Affections,
the Comfit will be found a most agreeable relief, if not a perma-
nent cure.
DIRECTIONS FOR USE.
The Comfit should be used as follows:-In cases of Cold or
Bronchitis, take from ten to twelve a day, and be careful not to
swallow them hastily, but keep them melting gradually in the
mouth, so as to have the moisture gently diffused, that it may act
permanently on the parts.
When taken with a view to soothe and lubricate the organs, pre-
vious to the exercise of speaking and singing, use two or three at a
time. The same number may also be advantageously used after
such exercise. In cases of Hoarseness and Influenza, four or five
may be taken before speaking.


JORDAN AND WILEY'S ADVERTISEMENT.
From J. H. Farnsworth.
GENTS: Having used the "Bronchial Comfit," and derived much
benefit from it, I feel impelled to bear testimony to its worth. I have
used it from the time of its first appearance, and am confident that it is a
valuable preventative against Bronchitis, and consider it an invaluable
remedy for hoarseness, and all obstructions of the throat arising from
irritation of the mucous membrane. I cheerfully recommend it for the
use of public speakers and singers; it needs to be but generally TRIED
to be generally USED.
J. H. FARNSWORTH.
Pastor of the Universalist Society, Hingham, Mass.
Applications for agencies in any part of the United States,
JORDAN & WILEY, Booksellers,
to be addressed to
121 Washington street, Boston.
BEAL'S HAIR RESTORATIVE.
NO CHARGE UNTIL THE HAIR IS RESTORED.
Emanating from a regular practiced physician, offered to
the public on the above original terms, and personal reference
given to some of our first citizens. "Beal's Hair Restora-
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or humbug. Office for the application, 13 1-2 First avenue.
Depot for the sale,
A. S. JORDAN'S,
2 MILK STREET, BOSTON.
CERTIFICATE.
I do hereby certify that I was bald, and my hair is restored, and was
greatly troubled with dandruff, and am not now, and do give credit
where it is due, viz. to Beal's Hair Restorative.
HENRY WHITEHEAD, No. 366 Ninth street.


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No one can read this delightful and instructive book
without esteeming its author as among the noblest minds
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JORDAN AND WILEY'S ADVERTISEMENT.
REMARKABLE VISIONS
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CONCERNING THE FUTURE STATE.
Translated from the German.
OF A

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ROMANDN
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Supplied by the Booksellers and Newsmen at
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·


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The design of this arrangement is to make the scholar understand his
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JORDAN AND WILEY'S PUBLICATIONS.
HAVE YOU READ SIX YEARS IN THE
MONASTERIES
OF ITALY,
BY REV. S. J. MAHONEY,
Formerly a Capuchin Friar in the Convent of the Immaculate Conception,
at Rome.
It is among the most entertaining books of the day, containing a
truthful narrative of the habits of the Popish Priests in Ireland,
France, Malta, &c. and a description of Convent life, written with
ability, and free from indelicate and offensive matter. Price 37 1-2
cents. Liberal discount to the trade at
JORDAN & WILEY'S, 121, Washington Street.
CHOICE NEW BOOKS
FOR EVERY FAMILY CIRCLE.
INTEGRITY - MODERATION-DECISION - SELF-
DENIAL-REFLECTION - ENERGY.
BY MRS. HOFLAND, AUTHOR OF YOUNG CADET, CLERGYMAN'S WIDOW, ETC.
These volumes, from the pen of a popular English writer, are
just issued by Messrs. Jordan & Wiley, 121 Washington Street.
The titles of the several volumes indicate the subjects illustrated
and enforced in the author's winning and popular style, and show
them to constitute together a most charming and useful series for
every Family Library,
FOR YOUNG AND OLD.
The volumes average 160 18mo pages each. Price a volume, in
gilt cloth, 37 1-2 cts. Paper, 25 cts.


JORDAN AND WILEY'S ADVERTISEMENT.
·
The following letters have been received, relating to this val
uable remedy.
From Rev. Mr. Lawrance of Haverhill.
BOSTON, NOVEMBER 22, 1844
To the Proprietors of the Bronchial Comfit.
GENTLEMEN: Having suffered with Bronchial difficulty for the
last three or four years, and having made use of the materials of your
preparation with decided benefit, although in a less perfect combina-
tion than I find yours to be, I am happy to give it my cordial approval.
I have tried various remedial means, but with little or no good effect.
I believe that clerical gentlemen, especially, who have been troubled
with similar difficulties in public speaking, would derive essential
advantage from the use of your preparation. From sympathy with
such sufferers, I give it my cordial recommendation to them.
EDWARD A. LAWRANCE.
From a distinguished Unitarian Preacher of Boston.
From the use of the Bronchial Comfit, and from the nature and prop-
erties of some of the ingredients that enter into its composition, I am
enabled to say, as I do say very cheerfully, that I have the utmost
confidence in its adaptedness to relieve public speakers, and to allay
irritation after exercise of speaking is over. If preachers would
employ it generally after exertion of the voice, they would unquestion-
ably find it the means of much comfort, and a safeguard against
disease.
DECEMBER, 1844.
From Rev. S. Remington, (formerly a Physician.)
DEAR SIR: From my knowledge of the different articles of which
your lozenges are composed, I am prepared to say that they are not only
safe, but very excellent for public speakers, to enable them to guard
against and counteract Hoarseness. By the too frequent exercise of
the organs of the voice and by those catarrhal attacks peculiar to this
climate, the uvula becomes greatly elongated, and dipping down upon
the epiglottis, troublesome irritation attended by cough often follows.
The parts also which surround the uvula, its curtain and glands, are
b


JORDAN AND WILEY'S ADVERTISEMENT.
liable to become weakened and relaxed, the consequence of which is
the secretion of too much mucous, causing a roughness of the voice
and a difficulty of speaking, and laying the foundation for throat dis-
ease, bronchitis, &c. For all these difficulties, these lozenges furnish
a gentle and grateful stimulant, which cleans the voice by contracting
the muscular fibre, and so relieving the parts from irritations, and I
therefore most cheerfully recommend them as a very excellent palli-
ative.
Yours truly,
S. REMINGTON.
From Edwin Forrest, the celebrated Tragedian.
GENTLEMEN : I have used your "Bronchial Comfit," and recom-
mend it to public speakers as an excellent remedy for hoarseness, or
huskiness of voice. Yours respectfully, EDWIN FORREST.
From Messrs. Murdoch & Russell, Elocutionists.
To the Proprietors of the Bronchial Comfit.
SIR-In answer to your inquiry regarding our opinion of your Bron-
chial Comfit, we would say that we have ourselves used it for some
time, and that many of our students have done the same, with great
advantage. It seems well adapted to its purpose; and, as we fre-
quently have occasion to answer inquiries respecting the best prepara-
tion of the kind, for the use of public speakers, we shall be happy to
recommend your Comfit as such.
We are, Sir, yours respectfully,
J. E. MURDOCH.
WILLIAM RUSSELL,
From Messrs. Baker & Woodbury, Professors of Music.
GENTLEMEN: I have used your preparation and recommended it
to others, not only as an effective remedy against irritations of the
throat, arising from colds, or long continued exertion of the voice, but
also as a valuable aid to the flexibility of the organs, and to freedom of
execution in vocal effort.
B. F. BAKER.
ODEON, December 6, 1844.
GENTS: I have used the Bronchial Comfit as a remedy for hoarse-
ness and means for allaying all irritations of Vocal organs. I consider
it admirably adapted for these purposes. Many of my pupils have used
it also with the most beneficial results.
I. B. WOODBURY.
4
1


JORDAN AND WILEY'S PUBLICATIONS.
TO SAVE A LAWYER'S BILL
Buy at JORDAN & WILEY'S, 121, Washington Street,
THE POCKET LAWYER AND FAMILY CONVEYANCER.
Comprising a selection of forms necessary in all mercantile and
money transactions, including every direction essential to the mag-
istrate and private individual, laid down in so plain a manner as to
enable every person to transact his own concerns without the assist-
ance of a lawyer; to which is added an abridged Law Dictionary ;
new edition, 1845; price 25 cents.
The Home and Traveller's Library.
No. 1. Texas and the Gulf of Mexico; or, Yachting in the New
With Illustrations. Price 25 cents.
World. By Mrs. Houston.
No. 2.- The Englishwoman in Egypt. By Mrs. Poole. With
an Engraving of the Interior of the Great Pyramid. Price 25 cts.
No. 3. · Knights of the Round Table. By Mrs. Johnstone, author
of "Clan Albyn,"
," "Elizabeth De Bruce," &c. Price 25 cents.
No. 4. · Sketches of Imposture, Credulity, and Fanaticism. Price
-
-
25 cents.
No. 5. The Opium War; being Recollections of Service in
China. By Capt. Arthur Cunynghame. Price 25 cents.
No. 6.
Impressions of Ireland and the Irish. By the author of
"Random Recollections of the Lords and Commons," "The Great
Metropolis," &c. Price 25 cents.
-
―
-
-
No. 7. Donaldson's Eventful Life of a Soldier. Price 25 cents.
No. 8. Dunn's History of the Oregon Territory and British
North American Fur Trade. Price 25 cents.
-
No. 9. The Mutiny at the Nore.
-


JORDAN AND WILEY'S ADVERTISEMENT.
NEW REMEDY
FOR BRONCHITIS, HOARSENESS, COLDS, AND INFLUENZA.
This preparation is intended to allay all irritation of the Larynx,
Trachea, or Bronchial Tubes. It will be found equally serviceable
in cases arising from chronic inflammation, and those caused by the
transient effects of colds. Its properties are such as to impart a
soothing and mollifying sensation to the membranous surfaces
when excited, whether by the effects of influenza, or of unusual
exertion in public speaking, and other uses of the vocal organs.
Clergymen, Public and Private Singers, and other persons suf-
fering from Affections of the Throat, Hoarseness, Colds of longer or
shorter duration, or other impediments of the voice, will find this a
most important discovery. It is entirely free from all deleterious
ingredients, and has been prepared under the best medical super-
vision. Price, 25 cents per box. Sold for Proprietors only at
JORDAN & WILEY'S Bookstore. Also, at V. CLIRHUGH'S,
205 Broadway, New York; and the principal Booksellers.
To persons suffering from Catarrhal and Bronchial Affections,
the Comfit will be found a most agreeable relief, if not a perma-
nent cure.
DIRECTIONS FOR USE.
The Comfit should be used as follows:-In cases of Cold or
Bronchitis, take from ten to twelve a day, and be careful not to
swallow them hastily, but keep them melting gradually in the
mouth, so as to have the moisture gently diffused, that it may act
permanently on the parts.
When taken with a view to soothe and lubricate the organs, pre-
vious to the exercise of speaking and singing, use two or three at a
time. The same number may also be advantageously used after
such exercise. In cases of Hoarseness and Influenza, four or five
may be taken before speaking.


JORDAN AND WILEY'S ADVERTISEMENT.
From J. H. Farnsworth.
GENTS: Having used the "Bronchial Comfit," and derived much
benefit from it, I feel impelled to bear testimony to its worth. I have
used it from the time of its first appearance, and am confident that it is a
valuable preventative against Bronchitis, and consider it an invaluable
remedy for hoarseness, and all obstructions of the throat arising from
irritation of the mucous membrane. I cheerfully recommend it for the
use of public speakers and singers; it needs to be but generally TRIED
to be generally USED.
J. H. FARNSWORTH.
Pastor of the Universalist Society, Hingham, Mass.
Applications for agencies in any part of the United States,
to be addressed to JORDAN & WILEY, Booksellers,
121 Washington street, Boston.
BEAL'S HAIR RESTORATIVE.
NO CHARGE UNTIL THE HAIR IS RESTORED.
Emanating from a regular practiced physician, offered to
the public on the above original terms, and personal reference
given to some of our first citizens. "Beal's Hair Restora-
tive" stands alone, free from aught appertaining to quackery
or humbug. Office for the application, 13 1-2 First avenue.
Depot for the sale,
A. S. JORDAN'S,
2 MILK STREET, BOSTON.
CERTIFICATE.
I do hereby certify that I was bald, and my hair is restored, and was
greatly troubled with dandruff, and am not now, and do give credit
where it is due, viz. to Beal's Hair Restorative.
HENRY WHITEHEAD, No. 366 Ninth street.


JORDAN AND WILEY'S CHEAP PUBLICATIONS.
POPULAR AND USEFUL WORKS
AT LOW PRICES.
Wives of England, by Mrs. Ellis, in glazed paper covers, 19
66
66
66
(6
Women
66
66
66
19
Mothers (6
19
19
37
66
66
(6
66
66
66
""
66
Daughters
Poetry of Life,
Fire Side Recollections, and the Young Sculptor, by Mrs.
Ellis.
"C
66
66
66
66
(6
66
66
66
66
"6
66
66
66
66
Mary and Martha, the Two Friends.
One Hundred Romances, by Leigh Hunt.
Phillip in Search of a Wife.
Life and Exploits of the Duke of Wellington, forty en-
gravings.
10
10
19
10
25
Zincali, an account of the Gipsies of Spain, by Barrow. 25
Pictorial Annual, with numerous engravings.
8
The Bible in Spain, or the Journeys, Adventures, and
Imprisonments of Geo. Barrow.
25
Leibeg's Animal Chemistry, or Organic Chemistry in its
application to Physiology and Pathology.
Leibeg's Chemistry in its application to Agriculture.
London Forget Me Not, for 1845, without the Plates.
Scientific Notice of Comets in General, by M. Argo.
Romantic Biography of the Age of Queen Elizabeth, in
Sketches of Life from the Bye-Ways of History.
Meredith, a novel by Countess of Blessington.
Modern Chivalry, by W. H. Ainsworth.
Ancient Regime, by James.
Tom Burke of Ours, with engravings, by Lever.
25
25
8
10
22238
12
19
10
25
50


JORDAN AND WILEY'S CHEAP PUBLICATIONS.
Home, or Family Cares and Joys, by Mary Howitt.
Arnold's Lectures on Modern History. Dr. A. was, at
his death, Regius Professor of History, at Oxford.
No one can read this delightful and instructive book.
without esteeming its author as among the noblest minds
and highest characters of these days. History from his
pen has a charm that no other has given it.
The Man of People, by Rosenberg.
Wanderings of a Journeyman Tailor through Europe and
the East, translated by Wm. Howitt, from the German. 10
The Smugglers of the Swedish coast, by E. Carlin.
Arrah Neal, a romance by James.
19
12
Bishop Hughes' Lecture on the importance of a Christian
basis for the Science of Political Economy, and its ap-
plication to the affairs of life.
Bishop Hughes' Lecture on the mixture of Civil and Ec-
clesiastical Power in the Government of the Middle
Ages.
Bishop Hughes' Letter to Mayor Harper, on the Times.
Atkinson's Principles of Political Economy, with Introduc-
tion by H. Greeley.
O'Connell's Memoir of Ireland.
Farnham's History of the Oregon Territory, with map.
Sturgis' Lecture on the Oregon Territory, with map.
The Comforter, and the Morning Watches, by Fredrika
Bremer.
The Loiterings of Arthur O'Leary, by Lever.
Thoughts on the Annexation of Texas, by Theodore
Sedgwick.
12.
12
12
ܘ
6
96
25
25
19
25
12
12
12
25
Ethel Churchill, by L. E. L., with plates.
Arthur's popular and excellent Tales, Cecelia Howard, &c. 19
Valentine Vox, the Ventriloquist, by Cockton, (Illustrated.) 50
62


JORDAN AND WILEY'S ADVERTISEMENT.
REMARKABLE VISIONS
NATURAL SOMNAMBULIST,
CONCERNING THE FUTURE STATE.
Translated from the German.
OF A

Hydiges Tran
cunt my
GOD
900
ROMANER
From a distinguished Orthodox Divine.
"Whatever else may be thought of this book, we believe no one
will dispute its claim to originality. It purports to be the record of the
experience of an individual in a high state of somnambulism, and to
lead us, as by an angel's hand, all over the invisible world. Its de-
scriptions are most vivid and glowing; and whatever of incredulity a
reader may feel in regard to the reality of the scenes described, he
will find it no easy thing to go to sleep over the description."
Supplied by the Booksellers and Newsmen at
12
13


.


1





JORDAN AND WILEY'S CHEAP PUBLICATIONS.
POPULAR AND USEFUL WORKS
AT LOW PRICES.
Wives of England, by Mrs. Ellis, in glazed paper covers, 19
Women
66
66
66
(6
(6
66
66
19
Mothers (6
19
19
37
66
66
66
66
66
66
66
66
Daughters
Poetry of Life,
Fire Side Recollections, and the Young Sculptor, by Mrs.
Ellis.
""
"C
66
"6
66
66
66
66
66
66
Mary and Martha, the Two Friends.
One Hundred Romances, by Leigh Hunt.
Phillip in Search of a Wife.
66
66
66
66
66
Life and Exploits of the Duke of Wellington, forty en-
gravings.
10
10
19
10
25
25
8
Zincali, an account of the Gipsies of Spain, by Barrow.
Pictorial Annual, with numerous engravings.
The Bible in Spain, or the Journeys, Adventures, and
Imprisonments of Geo. Barrow.
25
Leibeg's Animal Chemistry, or Organic Chemistry in its
application to Physiology and Pathology.
Leibeg's Chemistry in its application to Agriculture.
London Forget Me Not, for 1845, without the Plates.
Scientific Notice of Comets in General, by M. Argo.
Romantic Biography of the Age of Queen Elizabeth, in
Sketches of Life from the Bye-Ways of History.
Meredith, a novel by Countess of Blessington.
Modern Chivalry, by W. H. Ainsworth.
Ancient Regime, by James.
Tom Burke of Ours, with engravings, by Lever.
25
25
8
10
22038
12
19
10
25
50


JORDAN AND WILEY'S CHEAP PUBLICATIONS.
12
Home, or Family Cares and Joys, by Mary Howitt.
Arnold's Lectures on Modern History. Dr. A. was, at
his death, Regius Professor of History, at Oxford.
No one can read this delightful and instructive book
without esteeming its author as among the noblest minds
and highest characters of these days. History from his
pen has a charm that no other has given it.
The Man of People, by Rosenberg.
Wanderings of a Journeyman Tailor through Europe and
the East, translated by Wm. Howitt, from the German. 10
The Smugglers of the Swedish coast, by E. Carlin.
Arrah Neal, a romance by James.
19
12
Bishop Hughes' Lecture on the importance of a Christian
basis for the Science of Political Economy, and its ap-
plication to the affairs of life.
Bishop Hughes' Lecture on the mixture of Civil and Ec-
clesiastical Power in the Government of the Middle
Ages.
Bishop Hughes' Letter to Mayor Harper, on the Times.
Atkinson's Principles of Political Economy, with Introduc-
tion by H. Greeley.
O'Connell's Memoir of Ireland.
Farnham's History of the Oregon Territory, with map.
Sturgis' Lecture on the Oregon Territory, with map.
The Comforter, and the Morning Watches, by Fredrika
Bremer.
The Loiterings of Arthur O'Leary, by Lever.
Thoughts on the Annexation of Texas, by Theodore
Sedgwick.
12241
6
6
6
33935
25
25
19
25
22
12
25
Ethel Churchill, by L. E. L., with plates.
Arthur's popular and excellent Tales, Cecelia Howard, &c. 19
Valentine Vox, the Ventriloquist, by Cockton, (Illustrated.) 50
62


JORDAN AND WILEY'S ADVERTISEMENT.
REMARKABLE VISIONS
NATURAL SOMNAMBULIST,
CONCERNING THE FUTURE STATE.
Translated from the German.
OF A

00
GOD
M
மாம
ROMANON
From a distinguished Orthodox Divine.
"Whatever else may be thought of this book, we believe no one
will dispute its claim to originality. It purports to be the record of the
experience of an individual in a high state of somnambulism, and to
lead us, as by an angel's hand, all over the invisible world. Its de-
scriptions are most vivid and glowing; and whatever of incredulity a
reader may feel in regard to the reality of the scenes described, he
will find it no easy thing to go to sleep over the description."
Supplied by the Booksellers and Newsmen at
12
13


T
-.


1
I









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