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 UNIVIRSITV OF 
 CALIFORNIA 
 S AN DIEGO 
 
 
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 TALES 
 
 ORIGINAL AND TRANSLATED 
 
 FROM 
 
 THE SPANISH. 
 
 BY A LADY. 
 
 )• €• i <€- - 
 
 
 EMBELLISHED 
 
 WITH EIGHT ENGRAVINGS ON WOOD. 
 
 LONDON : 
 PRINTED FOR J. J. STOCKDALh. 
 
 NO. 41, HALL-MALL. 
 
 i 
 
 1 8 JO
 
 Krettell & Co. Printers, Marshall 
 Street, Golden-Square, London.
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 TO 
 
 ANNA ELIZA CHANDOS, 
 COUNTESS TEMPLE, 
 
 T H E 
 
 ACCOMPLISHED HEIRESS, 
 
 AND 
 
 WORTHY REPRESENTATIVE, 
 
 OF THE 
 
 ROYAL, 
 MAGNIFICENT, AND NOBLE HOUSE OF CHANDOS. 
 
 €f)t£ Work 
 
 IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED, 
 
 AS A 
 
 TRIBUTE OF ESTEEM FOR HER VIRTUES, 
 
 BY HER LADYSHIP'S UNKNOWN, 
 
 BUT MOST OBEDIENT, AND 
 
 VERY HUMBLE SERVANT, 
 
 JOHN JOSEPH STOCKDALE. 
 
 London, 4], Pall-Mali, 
 Hsy May, 1SI0.
 
 THE 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 THE following Tales are the production 
 of a young Lady unknown in the Metropo- 
 lis, and unused to writing for the public 
 eye. She submits them to the reader, as 
 the rural employment of a few leisure hours, 
 and doubts not. that they will be received 
 with forbearance, though they may be 
 thought undeserving of praise. 
 
 Whitchurch, Hampshire, 1810.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 AND 
 
 LIST OF CUTS. 
 
 The Shepherd and the Knight, 
 
 described at page - - 331 Frontispiece 
 
 Philip- ------- 10 - - 9 
 
 Claudius ------- 97 - - (>4 
 
 Ernest the Rebel - - - - 116 99 
 
 The Welsh Girls - - - - 239 - 118 
 
 The Captive's Slave - 276 - 244 
 
 The Shepherd and the Knight 282 280 
 
 Doristea's Fortune - 353 - 343
 
 Oh 
 
 (— ( 
 
 SB 
 Ph 
 
 
 
 a 
 
 ■a 
 
 u 
 
 o 
 
 as 

 
 TALES, 
 
 &c. 
 
 PHILIP. 
 
 A TALE FROM THE SPANISH. 
 
 The sea foamed, and dashed its dark 
 waves to the stars, as if to quench their 
 lustre, while the fury of contending winds 
 whirled mountains of foam from Neptune's 
 horrible gulph ; clouds, thundering as they 
 hurried along, and the herald lightnings 
 darting from their bosom, gave added terror 
 to the scene ; — all was disorder and horror 
 on land : What was it then to those floating 
 
 B
 
 10 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 at the mercy of the waves ? In the midst of 
 this confusion of elements, near the port of 
 Messina, a man, battling with the waves, 
 and struggling to reach land, while he firmly 
 grasped a thick plank which supported him, 
 was observed, from a window, by some la- 
 dies, who immediately sent to assist him. 
 Their servant found him kissing the ground, 
 in gratitude for his deliverance from a 
 watery grave : — he appeared about four- 
 and twenty, and of a noble figure : his 
 dress was green brocaded with gold, the 
 violence of the storm not having permitted 
 him to strip, when he committed himself to 
 the mercy of the waves. 
 
 The servant addressed him, saying that 
 some ladies, who had observed his distres- 
 sing situation, had sent him to his assist- 
 ance, with orders to conduct him to the 
 house. The ship-wrecked stranger received 
 this intelligence with the warmest gratitude,
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 11 
 
 and, not to be impeded by bis wet clothes, 
 threw off his doublet and waistcoat: the 
 warmth of the weather preventing his feel- 
 ing any inconvenience from the thinness of 
 his apparel. The servant, who observed 
 what he did, whispered to another who had 
 joined them, to carry the doublet to the 
 house, unseen by the stranger ; which was 
 done. 
 
 The youth, being arrived at the mansion, 
 was conducted into the presence of three 
 ladies, whose extraordinary beauty, though 
 that of one far exceeded the rest, struck him 
 with astonishment. They enquired how this 
 mischance had befallen him, and whence he 
 came: he answered in Sicilian, which he 
 understood perfectly, that he was a Vene- 
 tian trader, and had been going from Venice 
 to Sicily, in a merchantman, when the late 
 storm had wrecked the vessel, and most of 
 the crew, with all that belonged to them, had
 
 12 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 gone to the bottom ; — that he had had but 
 just time to partly undress, and throw him- 
 self on the waves, clinging to a piece of 
 timber which had aided and supported 
 him, in reaching Christian land ; where the 
 first blessing he had been permitted to re- 
 ceive, was their charity, for which he owed 
 them unbounded thanks. 
 
 The ladies, very well satisfied with the ap- 
 pearance and language of the stranger, en- 
 quired his name ; which he informed them 
 was Philip, and by winch name we will call 
 him in future; when the most beautiful of the 
 three graces ordered the servant, who had hi- 
 therto been his guide, to conduct him to the 
 ■wardrobe, and furnish him with clothes. 
 She was immediately obeyed, and Philip 
 was soon completely equipped. During 
 his toilet, he asked the servant in waiting, 
 w r ho were the three ladies he had just seen; 
 and learned that the most handsome was
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 13 
 
 Stella, daughter and sole heiress of the Duke 
 of Calabria, and that the other two were 
 sisters, and her cousins, by names Celestina, 
 and Lincydas. The stranger was well satis- 
 fied to find that the mistress of the mansion 
 was of such rank, as he could not fail to 
 receive every attention while in her house. 
 
 Having finished his dress — consisting of 
 a richly ornamented grey suit brocaded with 
 gold, a sword, and gilt dagger, and a hat, 
 with a plume of feathers in it, he returned 
 to the ladies, who were much surprised at 
 the elegance and ease of his appearance, 
 but none more so than the fair Celestina, 
 who already began to view him with singu- 
 lar admiration and kindness. 
 
 Philip again returned his thanks to the 
 beautiful Stella for the hospitality he had 
 received from her, to which she replied : 
 " I expect my father the Duke of Calabria 
 home shortly ; but I am sure he will not
 
 14 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 be displeased at what I have done : in the 
 mean time you must stay here, and recover 
 from your fatigue ; for, as you have lost all 
 you had with you, you will find it inconve- 
 nient perhaps at present to seek another 
 lodging, therefore remain here till you have 
 written to your friends/' 
 
 " Most beautiful Stella," returned Phi- 
 lip, "your goodness is as far above my 
 thanks, as it is above my merits: I could 
 wish to forget my country, by passing my 
 life in yours, and my lord's, the Duke's, ser- 
 vice, nor ever leave your house till judged 
 undeserving of its protection." 
 
 Stella then desired to see what hand he 
 wrote, and though he took little pains to 
 place himself well, yet it satisfied her so 
 perfect^, that she resolved he should take 
 the place of secretary in the family; that 
 situation being now vacant, from the person 
 who had before filled it having gone to
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 15 
 
 Spain. Philip was accordingly shown to 
 his apartments, and, as night approached, 
 supper was served, of which Stella was 
 about to partake when the servant, who had 
 first conducted Philip to the house, entered, 
 and desired to speak to his mistress; whom, 
 having retired to another room, he thus 
 addressed : 
 
 " Your excellency must know that, when 
 we were bringing Philip to your presence, 
 he threw off a waistcoat, and doublet, 
 which are these you see here" — (showing 
 
 them) — " knowing that this was done in the 
 hurry and confusion of the moment, I told 
 Lionel to bring them after us privately/' 
 
 Stella viewed the waistcoat and doublet 
 with attention; the former was green bro- 
 caded with gold ; the latter amber-colour 
 bordered with green ; and the richness of 
 both much surprised her. 
 
 " Besides," continued the servant, " in
 
 16 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 his confusion he seems to have forgotten 
 this purse, which I have not opened, but 
 brought straight to your excellency." 
 • The purse was of amber-coloured leather, 
 beautifully embroidered; in it was a gold 
 relic-case adorned with diamonds, and, in 
 two little pockets of it, she found two mi- 
 niatures ; one representing a lady of exqui- 
 site beauty, the other a knight strongly 
 resembling Philip, with the order of the 
 Golden Fleece, given by the king of Spain, 
 hanging round his neck — an insignia well 
 known to Stella, and which increased her 
 surprise ; as she could not but suppose that 
 Philip was of superior rank to what he gave 
 out; and, as love had before lain timidly 
 quiet in her breast, she now ventured to 
 give hope the rein, though not without 
 much uneasiness as to the lady whose pic- 
 ture was in the purse, and whom she sup- 
 posed to be some mistress of his.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 17 
 
 She strictly charged Camillo, the servant, 
 not to mention, to any one, what he had 
 seen, till she had discovered who the stranger 
 was ; she then returned to her cousins to 
 supper; but a new-born passion deprived 
 her of appetite; she ate little, and, when 
 she retired to rest, slept still less. Her mind 
 was busied in a thousand fancies, and, at 
 length, anxious to see Philip, she arose long 
 before her usual hour, to the great surprise 
 of her woman, and descended to the garden. 
 
 The season was Spring, when a thousand 
 smiling blossoms deck the fields, and fill the 
 air with their fragrance. Having employed 
 herself, for some time, with forming a nose- 
 gay of different flowers, she sent for Philip, 
 of whom, during that time, she had thought 
 sufficiently, desirous, if possible, to discover 
 the real cause of his being in the ship- 
 wrecked vessel. 
 
 Philip obeyed her summons with delight,
 
 18 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 and, having saluted her, respectfully, on her 
 enquiring if he had yet recovered from his 
 fatigue, replied that he was entirely so, as 
 the attentions he had received in her house 
 could not fail to restore him, and that he 
 only wished to spend his life in her service, 
 that he might endeavour to evince the gra- 
 titude he felt for the benevolence which she 
 had so liberally shown him. 
 
 While he spoke, Stella's eyes were fixed 
 upon him ; every action, even his submis- 
 sion, had a nobleness in it beyond his rank ; 
 at length she informed him, that he had the 
 charge of answering all her letters, espe- 
 cially those which came from the Duke of 
 Terranova, her cousin, betwixt whom and 
 herself there was a treaty of marriage. This 
 intelligence was not wholly agreeable to 
 Philip : he had not remained insensible to 
 the fair Stella's charms, and had hoped, at 
 least, to find her disengaged, that he might
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 19 
 
 avail himself of any opportunities which 
 might occur, of ingratiating himself with 
 her. Stella was rejoiced to observe him 
 change colour, and that the name of the 
 Duke of Terranova had struck him dumb. 
 However, he replied that he was her servant; 
 that she had raised him to an office far 
 above his expectations, and that he would 
 endeavour to satisfy her in every thing. 
 They continued to converse on a variety of 
 subjects, in which the fair and prudent 
 Stella discovered such merit, and under- 
 standing in Philip, that she felt authorised 
 in esteeming him highly. They were soon 
 joined by her two cousins, when Celestina, 
 by her agitation, and marked attention to the 
 stranger, plainly discovered, to the equally 
 interested Stella, that she was as much struck 
 with him as herself; and therefore, instead, 
 as she had intended, of confiding to her 
 cousin what she had discovered in Philip's
 
 20 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 discarded doublet, she wished to keep the 
 purse and its contents closely concealed. 
 
 Philip felt so much gratification at being 
 in the Duke's service, that he talked of no- 
 thing else to the servants, who were not a lit- 
 tle envious at seeing him thus raised, in so 
 short a time, to the confidence of the lovely 
 Stella ; for envy, though more often found 
 in the palaces of princes, yet fails not also 
 to abide in the poorest breast, and is always 
 raised against the good fortune or advance- 
 ment of others, who, from superior under- 
 standing, or merits, have been selected for 
 the confidence of their masters. 
 
 Soon after Philip had become domesti- 
 cated in the family, the old Duke arrived 
 from the Sicilian court, and was received by 
 Stella with that warm affection which flows 
 from the heart. She introduced Philip to 
 him, — related his misfortunes, — and exag- 
 gerated his talents; in consequence of which
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 21 
 
 the venerable Duke confirmed what his 
 daughter had done, and established him in 
 the post of secretary. 
 
 From the day that Stella had first begun 
 to suspect the rank of Philip, she had sent 
 to Venice, his reputed country, to learn if 
 any trader from that city had had his vessel 
 wrecked on such a day ? This enquiry she 
 had commissioned to be made by the Sicilian 
 ambassador, who was then residing with 
 that powerful republic ; but, notwithstand- 
 ing the strictest enquiries, he could not learn 
 that there was above one such man in Ve- 
 nice, nor had such a loss been known to have 
 taken place, by the sailors or merchants 
 there, though they are generally the first to 
 hear those tidings, as there is no city to 
 which the merchandize is sent, but is full of 
 their friends and correspondents, and even 
 without that, such a loss must have come to 
 their knowledge in the time that had elapsed.
 
 22 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 When Stella understood this she settled in 
 her own mind that Philip's account of him- 
 self must be false ; she was soon afterwards 
 apprised, from the kingdom of Naples, that 
 the Prince of Salerno had embarked for Si- 
 cily, and having been wrecked, had left that 
 state without a successor, the prince being 
 a minor, and that two of his female cousins 
 were legally disputing which had the best 
 right to it. 
 
 Stella now began almost to imagine that 
 the pretended Philip was, in fact, this Prince 
 of Salerno, and waited impatiently for an 
 opportunity of proving to him that she was 
 convinced he was of higher rank than he 
 gave out ; for she discovered that Camillo 
 the servant, who had first shown her the 
 jewels belonging to Philip, had revealed the 
 secret also to her cousin Celestina, who now, 
 wholly giving herself up to the affection she 
 felt for this amiable stranger, one day, when
 
 YliOM THE SPANISH. 23 
 
 he was seated in his closet alone, answering 
 some letters which had been sent to Stella, 
 threw a billet to him through the half- 
 open door. Seeing it fall, he rose hastily to 
 discover the hand it came from ; but, before 
 he could reach the door, Celestina, who had 
 done it herself, that she might be obliged to 
 confide in no one, had concealed herself, 
 and Philip, unable to find any person, took 
 up the paper, and read as follows : 
 
 " One of her excellency's ladies wishes 
 you to pass an uncomfortable night for her 
 sake, trusting that your gallantry will make 
 you easily undergo this inconvenience, for 
 one who will know how to be grateful for 
 it. She will expect you at the last window 
 of the gallery which overhangs the garden, 
 after the family have retired to rest. Hea- 
 ven keep you !" 
 
 Philip resolved to meet this lady at the 
 appointed hour, not venturing to imagine it
 
 24 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 could be Celestina, or her fair sister, but ra- 
 ther one of Stella's women. He then re- 
 turned to his occupation, which still engaged 
 him, when one of her attendants summoned 
 him to Stella, whom he found writing in 
 her own apartment. She asked him for a 
 letter which she had given bim to consider 
 of; but Philip, agitated by the presence of 
 his mistress, gave her by mistake, with the 
 right one, the paper he had just received. 
 Stella took all as he gave them her, and then 
 told him to go and finish those letters he 
 was about. When he had retired, she was 
 much surprised to see the other paper which 
 had escaped in his confusion, but, supposing 
 it to belong to her, she opened it, and, re- 
 cognising her cousin's hand-writing, read the 
 contents, which filled her with the most rack- 
 ing jealousy. After some reflection, how- 
 ever, she resolved to take advantage of this 
 opportunity — and, in pursuance of her plan,
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 25 
 
 at night contrived effectually to employ both 
 Celestina, and her sister, and locked them 
 up together in her room. 
 
 At midnight she hastened softly to the 
 gallery, below which she saw Philip waiting 
 — she beckoned — and when he was close 
 under the window, said in a feigned voice: 
 
 " I am sensible, Signor Philip, of the sa- 
 crifice you have made in exchanging your 
 warm bed for the cold night-dew ; but I 
 felt sure that one so gallant as yourself, 
 would obey the summons of a lady without 
 feeling even the loss of sleep." 
 
 " You appreciated my disposition rightly," 
 returned Philip, " which is always to obey 
 the ladies, and I should have been uncivil 
 not to have come the first time willingly" — 
 
 " And as to the second ?" interrupted 
 Stella. 
 
 " For the second I shall say nothing, ex- 
 cept that I am so faithfully bound to the 
 
 c
 
 26" TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 service of the lovely Stella, that I could not 
 easily forgive myself for doing any thing 
 that would offend her — as to myself, I am 
 undeserving the honor I receive; my hum- 
 ble station fits me not for marriage with any 
 in a higher one, therefore wasting time longer 
 on this subject will only make me incur the 
 risk of losing the good opinion you now ho- 
 nor me with ; to-night therefore tell me 
 how I can serve you — or you can inform me 
 of it by the same means that you adopted 
 to let me know you should be here to- 
 night/' 
 
 " How did the friend I gave the paper 
 to," said Stella, wishing to know how the 
 appointment had been sent, " contrive to 
 convey it to you ?" 
 
 " She threw it into the closet where I was 
 writing.' 
 
 " I must take care what I do," resumed 
 she, " since, on the very first night, you tell
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 27 
 
 me that you shall not come again : and how 
 do you know what I may mean to do in 
 your favor ?" 
 
 " I am persuaded," rejoined Philip, "that 
 you are only seeking to amuse yourself with 
 a stranger just come into the family." 
 
 "Suppose I should be a messenger from 
 one who secretly loves you, what would you 
 say to me then ?" 
 
 " That you have taken a bold step ; but 
 that you are too young for me to suppose 
 you came from yourself." 
 
 " How can you tell what I am ?" en- 
 quired Stella. 
 
 *' By your voice," returned Philip; 
 " which assures me I have guessed right; 
 besides, consider, were you old, you would 
 not have sought such an unseasonable hour 
 for speaking to me." 
 
 " See," she exclaimed, " how you are 
 continually telling me that you regret your
 
 28 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 loss of sleep; since you find midnight an un- 
 seasonable hour for a meeting, what can one 
 say to you ?** 
 
 " It signifies but little/' said Philip, " that 
 you do not know what I am capable of when 
 I am really interested, or the sleep that I 
 can lose when I love." 
 
 " Then doubtless you have been in love?" 
 enquired Stella. 
 
 " I have," he replied, " and so deeply 
 that I do not wish to renew the subject; it 
 causes me such pain." 
 
 " But I must nevertheless tell you some- 
 thin^ agreeable," said she: " one of his ex- 
 cellency's ladies wishes to speak to you in 
 private, either at this window, or wherever 
 else she shall, at the time, find most conve- 
 nient ; this she will be led to do out of af- 
 fection for you, therefore it will be but a bad 
 return for he goodness, if fear should pre- 
 vent you from keeping an appointment
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 29 
 
 * 
 
 which, be assured, will be fortunate for 
 
 you." 
 
 " It would be much worse, forced, by my 
 humble situation, to give her only the ho- 
 mage of the mind, when she ought to be 
 honored by feasts and presents which dig- 
 nify love; but such are not in the power of 
 an unfortunate stranger thrown naked on 
 the shore, and known to no one." 
 
 " Then have you not saved one jewel from 
 the wreck ?" enquired Stella, significantly. 
 
 Here Philip paused ; for till that moment 
 it had not occurred to him, that, in the 
 clothes which he had thrown aside, on leav- 
 ing the water, was the diamond-set relic- 
 case, and the two pictures; but supposing 
 they had accidentally been found, he re- 
 plied that he had indeed lost a jewel with 
 the clothes he had thrown off to be more at 
 liberty. 
 
 " However, in this case/ 1 continued Stella,
 
 30 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 • 
 
 affected by his manner, " neither gifts nor 
 gallantries of any sort are required of you, 
 but a faithful love ; I only now desire you 
 to be, without fail, to-morrow night, later 
 than this, at a low grated window which 
 opens into this garden." 
 
 Philip would have spoken, but Stella 
 hastened away, far from displeased with the 
 thoughts of the next night. 
 
 Very different feelings filled the breast of 
 her cousin Celestina, for the employment 
 Stella had given her, and the locked door, 
 debarred her entirely from keeping her ap- 
 pointment with Philip; these ideas prevent- 
 ed her from sleeping, and, as she feared that 
 Stella had some suspicion of what had pas- 
 sed, she resolved to quiet them by not no- 
 ticing Philip for some days. He, on his 
 part, was at the lattice punctually to the 
 hour named; — here he found Stella, who 
 had left a favorite woman, in whom she had
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 3 L 
 
 great confidence, to watch Celestina, and to 
 prevent interruption. 
 
 They had a long conversation, in which 
 she told him, that she was herself the lady 
 she had spoken of, but that she should not 
 tell her name till she found he was deserving 
 the confidence, and repeated to him that, as 
 it was not in his power to honor her with 
 any public gallantries, she would be satis- 
 fied with a pure and faithful love; and, at 
 parting, she threw him a handkerchief, in 
 which were wrapped some jewels of great 
 value. As the darkness was too great for 
 Philip to see what she had given him, he 
 delayed opening the parcel till he readied 
 his own apartment, when he was astonished 
 and confounded to see its magnificent con- 
 tents. Ignorant to whom he was indebted 
 for this sumptuous present, he however at 
 once discarded the idea of its being only 
 one of Stella's women, and rather persuaded
 
 23 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 himself that it must be one of her cousins, 
 as he did not recognize the jewels; Stella 
 having purposely bought them for Philip, 
 fearing her own might betray her. 
 
 The court was then at Messina, two miles 
 from the Duke's palace, and the Duke of 
 Terranova, wishing to see his lovely cousin 
 once more grace the court, published a 
 tournament for St. John's day, in which he 
 was challenger. A thousand elegancies were 
 prepared for the occasion, none of those who 
 entered the lists regarding the expence they 
 put themselves to in honor of their mis- 
 tresses. 
 
 As soon as the tournament was known at 
 the Duke's, Philip and the incognita, at their 
 next meeting, of course conversed of it. 
 She said that her mistress, Stella, must 
 doubtless appear at court, as the tourna- 
 ment was in honor of her, and that she her- 
 self must attend her thither, which vexed
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 33 
 
 her much, as it would interrupt their con- 
 versations. Impelled by his ardent spirit, 
 Philip, not remembering the station which 
 he occupied, nor the low rank he had as- 
 sumed on his arrival, said that, had he not 
 been a stranger, and alone, he should have 
 wished to have joined the tilters. Stella, re- 
 joiced to hear what, at once, proved his 
 illustrious blood, (for, had he been but a 
 trader, he certainly could not have been 
 acquainted with exercises which alone be- 
 long to the noblest cavaliers,) immediately 
 said, that if such were really his wish, as 
 she also longed to see him do so, she would 
 take care to provide him with what was re- 
 quisite for his proper appearance, and that, 
 on this occasion, he should know her name ; 
 then, after appointing another nightly inter- 
 view, she retired. 
 
 As Celestina's wish to converse with Phi- 
 lip was not less ardent than before, and as,
 
 34 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 owing to Stella's extreme vigilance, she had 
 not yet been able to contrive it, she had 
 recourse to another note, which contained 
 these words : 
 
 " What I wrote to you before must have 
 surprised you, as I failed to be at the ap- 
 pointed window, but be there to-night, and 
 you shall learn who esteems you. Come 
 early." 
 
 This paper perplexed Philip so much that 
 he could hardly tell what to resolve on: 
 the time however was convenient, therefore 
 he determined to extricate himself as well 
 as he could from the confusion he had got 
 into ; for, as his real inclinations led him to 
 none but the beauteous Stella, no one be- 
 sides herself gave him real satisfaction. 
 
 Night being come he went to his earliest 
 rendezvous, beneath the gallery window; 
 Celestina was already there waiting for him ; 
 discovering herself, she said :
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 35 
 
 " I have wished for an opportunity, Phi- 
 lip, of excusing myself for the disappoint- 
 ment I caused you in not coming the first 
 time I appointed you, at this window ; but 
 my cousin then wholly engaged me; as 
 I feared she suspected my intentions, I 
 have since then endeavoured to avoid doing 
 any thing to alarm her suspicions. I wish 
 now to speak freely to you, having chosen 
 this solitude that you may open yourself 
 with confidence to me ; and the first thing 
 I desire of you is, to tell me truly who you 
 are, for the account you have given of your- 
 self cannot be believed, when the jewels 
 found in your dress contradict all you say ; 
 do not therefore endeavour longer to conceal 
 your real name, for, on my life, I will find 
 it out ; but be assured, if my suspicions are 
 just, as I hope they will prove, you may ex- 
 pect further advancement/' 
 
 Philip, confounded at finding this to be
 
 $6 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 Celestina, when he imagined his incognita 
 was her, resolved however to quiet her cu- 
 riosity, as he saw that the jewels had raised 
 her expectations that he would prove more 
 than a Venetian trader, people of that rank 
 rarely wearing costly things; the pictures 
 alone, he feared, must have disclosed more 
 than he wished ; however, he thus answered 
 her: 
 
 " Most beautiful Celestina ! I cannot 
 deny but that the jewels found in the clothes 
 I threw away on my first landing, do seem 
 to show that I am of rank superior to what 
 I have alleged, but which is, nevertheless, 
 the truth. 
 
 In Venice, I would have maintained her 
 statutes, and been contented with my real 
 station ; but, in a foreign country, I wished 
 to pass for something higher than a mere 
 trader, without absolutely saying so: I 
 therefore dressed myself richly ; but when
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 3? 
 
 seriously asked the truth, and, at the same 
 time, receiving the greatest favors from such 
 a lady as your noble cousin, I should do 
 wrong to deny it. I have now resolved your 
 question, but if there be any thing further in 
 my power to say that will clear your doubts, 
 command me." 
 
 " I am satisfied/' resumed Celestina," 
 and, for the present, only desire that you 
 will be here again to-morrow night at the 
 same hour/' 
 
 Philip promised to obey, and Celestina, 
 hearing a noise within and fearing it might 
 be Stella, left him, charged him to be 
 punctual. He then hasted from the win- 
 dow, anxious to learn who his incognita 
 was, the supposition that she was Celestina 
 being thus out of the question. The richness 
 of the jewels she had given him almost led 
 him now to suppose that it must be Stella 
 herself, whom he had hitherto considered too
 
 38 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 proud to strop to such an action, consider- 
 ing his low rank ; but, if it proved so, he 
 felt himself obliged in honor to disclose who 
 he really was, which he had hitherto delayed 
 doing, uncertain how he should be received 
 by the Duke her father, betwixt whom and 
 his own, there had been a rivalship in love ; 
 in consequence of which challenges had 
 ensued, and which was now his principal 
 reason for wishing to remain unknown. 
 
 He soon reached the garden lattice, where 
 he found the unknown lady, who reproved 
 him for his tardiness ; he soon however ex- 
 cused himself to her satisfaction, for he said 
 so many graceful things, that she declared 
 her resolution of anticipating his request to 
 know her name, by informing him that she 
 was Celestina. Philip had now been more 
 attentive than ever to her, and felt assured 
 that she was Stella, which discovery gave 
 him so much joy, that it nearly deprived
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 39 
 
 him of the power of concealing it ; how- 
 ever, he dissimulated as well as he could, 
 allowing her to entertain the idea that she 
 could discover herself whenever she chose, 
 and, though enraptured with the favor 
 shown to him so far above what he thought 
 his own poor merits deserved, neither then, 
 nor at anv other period, neither in public, 
 nor in private, did he give reason to suppose 
 that he enjoyed such favors, and would 
 have preferred disgrace, or even death, to 
 betraying her. 
 
 In the course of this conversation, the sub- 
 ject of the tournament was revived, when 
 Stella asked him if he still desired to join 
 the combatants; to which, he replying in 
 the affirmative, she said, giving him a 
 paper: 
 
 " Take this, and farewel, for it is late." 
 She then left him : on taking it to the 
 light, he found it to be an order for a thou-
 
 40 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 sand gold doubloons, payable to the bearer. 
 Astonished at this sight, Philip concluded 
 that he must be known to Stella, as appear- 
 ance alone could never have induced one 
 of her high rank to behave so ; therefore the 
 entire confidence she placed in him did not 
 disgrace her in his eyes, for laying but little 
 stress on his own merits, which, in fact, 
 without the aid of rank, were striking, he 
 resolved not to discover himself till the 
 tournament was at an end. 
 
 As only three days were now wanting to 
 the time of the entertainment, the Duke and 
 his daughter were preparing to leave the 
 country, and to go to their palace in Messina. 
 During that short period Philip, with the 
 greatest secrecy, made ready his own, and 
 his four attendants' dresses, which he en- 
 trusted the management of to a faithful Ne- 
 apolitan servant, whom he had sent for, and 
 to whom he had confided his secret.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 41 
 
 While the Duke was at home, neither 
 Stella nor Celcstina could have their usual 
 nocturnal meetings with Philip, which was 
 a subject of real grief to both the la- 
 dies, as they were sincerely attached to 
 him. 
 
 The day of the tournament at length ar- 
 rived ; that day which the Duke of Terranova 
 hoped would assure him of Stella's hand — 
 as the Duke her father had consented— the 
 King had sactioned the union — and they 
 only waited for a dispensation from Rome. 
 
 The king, having breakfasted, went to a 
 balcony of his palace which looked into a 
 large area, round which were erected scaf- 
 folds, richly adorned with the most hand- 
 some cloth of every description, and, in the 
 middle, was the place allotted for the tour- 
 nament, a hundred feet square, with four 
 entrances for the tilters : on one side of it 
 was an elegant tent for the challenger, his 
 
 D
 
 42 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 assistants, seconds, and all the other tilters 
 to refresh themselves in. 
 
 When the beauteous Stella, and her cou- 
 sins, richly dressed, went to the palace, her 
 carriage was attended by the noblest, and 
 most graceful of the knights; they placed 
 themselves in a balcony among the other 
 ladies, all of whom were not only elegantly 
 attired, but most beautiful in themselves. 
 The hour appointed for the commencement 
 of the ceremonies having arrived, the trum- 
 pets sounded, and fifty drummers and fifers 
 appeared, habited in green and cloth of sil- 
 ver, ornamented with gold laces and loops, 
 on an edging of murray, being the fair 
 Stella's colours ; after these came twelve at- 
 tendants dressed in green, with twists of 
 gold and murray, and then entered the chal- 
 lenger himself, dressed the same as the at- 
 tendants, except that his cap, and part of 
 his clothing was ornamented with silver
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 45 
 
 stars; — bis armour was white, striped with 
 green, and he wore a plume of green and 
 murray feathers. His device was a silver 
 staff, on the top of which was a star, with 
 this motto: 
 
 ft He wanders in the darkness of the night, 
 " While unillumin'd by this heavenly light." 
 
 He made his entre gracefully, and, taking 
 his place, threw down his gauntlet to invite 
 some one to the contest. He was followed 
 by his assistant, a Sicilian nobleman, not 
 less magnificently dressed and attended than 
 the Duke himself. 
 
 Not minutely to describe all the devices 
 and mottos displayed on that day, suffice it 
 to say the tournament began. 
 
 Philip had, to Stella's great surprise, staid 
 quietly to see the commencement of the tilt- 
 ing, and she began to fear he had deceived her 
 in saying he wished to enter the lists ; but
 
 44 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 Philip's intention, in doing this, was merely 
 to answer Stella in her own way, as she had 
 endeavoured to deceive him by passing for 
 her cousin Celestina ; therefore, to add to 
 her vexation, he placed himself so as to be 
 seen by both ladies, and made a sign that 
 he was going to arm. Stella understood 
 him, but it was unintelligible to Celestina, 
 to whom he had said nothing about the 
 tournament ; she therefore made a sign to 
 express that she did not understand him : 
 he repeated it, and then went away, leaving 
 Stella to fret at having caused this mistake 
 by assuming her cousin's name. 
 
 When Philip left the balcony he hastened 
 to a house where his servant was expecting 
 him, with eight drummers and fifers, and 
 four seconds, all dressed in blue, ornament- 
 ed with silver, which were Celestina's co- 
 lours. His hat, and cloak which dragged 
 on the ground, were blue, bordered with
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 45 
 
 black and silver; his plume was blue and 
 white, and his device was a sun, surrounded 
 by bright rays, with this motto: 
 
 " Can he a coward ever prove in arms, 
 
 " Who feels the influence of celestial charms?" 
 
 alluding to Celestina's name. 
 
 Philip entered the lists with a grace so su- 
 perior to those who preceded him, that all 
 eyes were attracted to him ; yet, except 
 Stella, who with bitterness saw him thus 
 publicly declare for her cousin, none could 
 guess who he was : she now deeply regretted 
 the deceit she had practised, as that alone 
 had caused her rival this public triumph, 
 even unknown to herself. If the appear- 
 ance of Philip exceeded that of the other 
 jousters, he so far surpassed them in skill, 
 that, even when he tilted with the Duke, he 
 carried off the prize, which he presented to 
 Celestina, giving another wound to the mor-
 
 46 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 tified Stella, to whom every attention he 
 paid her cousin was a poisoned dart. The 
 time for the skirmishing being come, he car- 
 ried away more prizes ; that for grace, as 
 well as that for skill ; — those he presented 
 to the fair Stella, which caused some un- 
 easiness to Celestina, while Stella began to 
 forgive the prize he had presented to her 
 cousin, as she attributed it all to herself. 
 
 Night alone finished the tournament, and 
 torches were provided for all except Philip, 
 who, stealing away in the confusion, return- 
 ed to the house where he had armed ; though 
 not so unobserved, but that a page, by Ce- 
 lestina's command, followed him ; for her 
 curiosity was raised to know who this knight 
 was, and her commission was so well exe- 
 cuted, that the unknown knight was found 
 to be the Duke's secretary. This news was 
 soon spread over the house, so that when 
 Philip returned, it was already known, how-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 47 
 
 «ver incredible it might appear, that he was 
 the conqueror at the tournament. The en- 
 vious who wished it to be disbelieved de- 
 nied it, and, when they saw him, began, in a 
 scoffing manner, to congratulate him on the 
 great luck that had attended him at the 
 tournament. Philip, though somewhat con- 
 fused at this attack, as he could not guess 
 how he had been discovered, nevertheless ap- 
 peared to enjoy the joke, by thanking them 
 gaily for their congratulations, and by this 
 means partly undid all the page had done. 
 
 As he was attending Stella home, her 
 favorite woman gave him a paper, in which 
 were these words : 
 
 " One whom you know, will expect you 
 to-night at the garden lattice. Do not fail 
 to be there. — Adieu." 
 
 Assured that Stella was the writer of this, 
 he resolved to teize her a little before he 
 raised the veil ; and, going at the appointed 
 hour, found her at the lattice.
 
 48 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 " I cannot deny, Philip," said she, ad 
 dressing him, " but that I am much pleased 
 with what you did for my honor to-day at 
 the tournament, where you shone so conspi- 
 cuously ; but I will not believe that a Ve- 
 netian trader could understand the use of 
 arms so well." 
 
 . " We all use them," said Philip, rather 
 falsely, " but was it to be wondered at that 
 the wish I felt to honor you should inspire 
 me with added strength and skill, and make 
 me come off with credit even in what I am 
 not much accustomed to? but to one so 
 fond of the exercise as I am, a little prac- 
 tice is sufficient." 
 
 " I thank vou too," said she, " for the 
 prize you gave me, though I must complain 
 that you behaved more generously to my 
 cousin, to whom you presented two." 
 
 il I did that for more than one reason ;-*■; 
 first, to dissemble, and not raise to suspicion ; 
 and secondly, that,4f I should be known, I
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 4f) 
 
 might not be found wanting in gratitude to 
 one to whom I owe so much." 
 
 " You do not know how little you are in- 
 debted to her," said she. 
 
 41 Or rather how much," he replied. 
 
 " If she were to know that I am here, and 
 more especially with you," continued Stella, 
 w she would be so harsh with you to-morrow, 
 that you would be obliged to leave her ser- 
 vice, and would not smile on me for a 
 month/' 
 
 " Yours, then, is an uncomfortable situa- 
 tion," said he. 
 
 " It is insufferable," she replied. 
 
 " Then follow your own inclinations," re- 
 turned Philip, "and do not let her hinder 
 you from amusing yourself: I love you faith- 
 fully, and, as you encourage it by a return, 
 it increases every day." 
 
 " What I am to blame for," said she, " is 
 that I encourage it in one whose rank is so
 
 50 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 unequal to my own, as is that of a Venetian 
 trader." 
 
 " Be not uneasy on that account," re- 
 sumed Philip, " for though I have hitherto 
 kept myself concealed from you, I will now 
 tell you that I am of higher quality than I 
 have hitherto pretended." 
 
 " Who are you then ?" enquired Stella, 
 delighted at the idea of, at length, learning 
 who he was. 
 
 " lam a Spanish gentleman," he replied, 
 of one of the most illustrious families in Ca- 
 talonia; my name is Don Augo de Car- 
 dona." 
 
 " I have heard of that name," said she. 
 " It is one of the most respected, and best 
 known in Spain," he replied : " there are 
 some titles belonging to it, and I am second 
 son to one of them." 
 
 " Speak some Spanish to me," said Stella, 
 that I may be sure you now tell truth."
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 51 
 
 " I treat you now, lovely Celestina," re- 
 plied Philip, addressing her in the purest 
 Spanish, " as one by whom I wish to be 
 esteemed." 
 
 Stella, now she had gained the truth, 
 felt sure that he loved her cousin, and there- 
 fore, by undeceiving him, hoped to hinder 
 him from proceeding with her. 
 
 " I am very well satisfied with what you 
 have told me/' said she, and I think so 
 highly of you, that I put full confidence in 
 the truth of it ; for the future, therefore, 
 that you may speak without reserve to me, 
 you shall know with whom you have been 
 conversing hitherto. Wait here, and 1 will 
 return presently." 
 
 She then left him, much pleased that love 
 should be strong enough to make her reveal 
 herself to him : she soon returned with the 
 key of the lattice, which opening, she led 
 the way to a summer-house, where her fa-
 
 52 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 vorite woman was waiting with a light ; he 
 then discovered that the lady with whom he 
 had conversed was certain! v no less than the 
 beauteous Stella, daughter to the Duke of 
 Calabria. He pretended the utmost asto- 
 nishment at finding who she was, and Stella, 
 not suspecting that he had before guessed 
 the truth, said : 
 
 " Yes, Philip, it is I who have conversed 
 with you by night ; I was led to do this by 
 having accidentally seen a paper sent you 
 by my cousin Celestina. I know that you 
 are not a Venetian trader, neither Don Augo 
 de Cardona, but Rogero Prince of Salerno, 
 and that your state is disputed at law, it 
 being supposed in Naples that you are 
 drowned ; now, since I have treated you 
 openly, treat me the same, and tell me whe- 
 ther this be or be not true." 
 
 Stella had sent privately to Naples on 
 purpose to learn every thing concerning the
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 53 
 
 Prince, and, if possible, to gain a likeness 
 of him, which she had got, and thus disco- 
 vered him. The pretended Philip, now Ro- 
 gero, could not deny the truth of Stella's 
 words, and therefore confessed himself to be 
 the Prince of Salerno : she then expressed 
 a wish to know the reason of his quitting 
 Naples, and, willing to give her a full ac- 
 count of himself, he seated himself beside 
 her, and thus began his narration: 
 
 " I was one of the attendants on Ernest, 
 king of Naples, who was so attached to me, 
 that I soon became the repository of all his 
 secrets : anions: others that he was in love 
 with the Princess of Orbitella, the most 
 handsome woman in the kingdom ; I wished 
 he had not made me a confidant either in this 
 or in any other amour, as I was generally 
 obliged to attend him to his lady's every 
 night, much to the Queen's, bis mother's, 
 dissatisfaction.
 
 54 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 " This Princess of Orbitella was," as I have 
 already said, " the most lovely and most ac- 
 complished woman in Naples, and as, added 
 to this, her rank was exalted, she had even 
 princes in her train. This lady, the King 
 ordered me to visit, in his name — to tell her 
 of his love, and to request her to allow him 
 to visit her some night. Cassandra, for that 
 was the princess's name, received me with 
 affability — heard my message— and then 
 gave me her answer in the following words:" 
 
 48 Had the message, Senor Rogero, been 
 from yourself instead of from the King, I 
 should have been better pleased with it; I 
 should then have known it honored me; for I 
 should be prouder of a prince, who wooed me 
 for his wife, than of aking, who wooed me for 
 his mistress ; so much for my opinion : now 
 tell his highness, in my own words, though I 
 fear you will not repeat them, that lam of his 
 own blood, and daughter to one of the brav-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 55 
 
 est soldiers who ever protected the throne of 
 Naples against its powerful enemies. My 
 father died serving his country, and hoped 
 not for such a reward for his noble services 
 as, by me, his highness seems to intend. — 
 Tell him to look out for one better suited to 
 his purpose, among the Neapolitan beauties. 
 I abhor him for an intention so disgraceful 
 to a just king, and for which he deserves my 
 best thanks." 
 
 " In vain I endeavoured to speak; she 
 would hear nothing, but, as I left her, 
 added :" 
 
 " Senor Rogero, all intercessions for the 
 King will be useless; come alone, and you 
 will always be a welcome guest in this 
 house, for you will be preferred to all those 
 who now wish, but cannot gain, my favor.*' 
 
 " I thanked her for the honor she did 
 me, and said that I should profit by it ; but 
 as the King was wholly bent on gaining her
 
 56 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 love, I should not dare to repeat to him 
 what she had said." 
 
 " Do not lead the King into an error," 
 she exclaimed; " let him know that I de- 
 spise his proposal, and, above all, be assured 
 that he shall never hinder me from showing 
 favor to whomsoever I like." 
 
 " She then left me, and I returned to the 
 King, much vexed at the ill success of my 
 embassy ; I repeated Cassandra's message to 
 him, without however mentioning what she 
 had said concerning myself: he was much 
 hurt at this repulse, which served only to 
 inflame his passion, and from that day he 
 began to pay her every sort of public atten T 
 tion, serenading her by night, and feasting 
 her by day. He also visited her several 
 times accompanied by me ; but she always 
 treated him with coldness, while her eyes 
 told me she wished I could love her. I pre- 
 tended not to understand her, dreading the
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 57 
 
 King's displeasure, but Cassandra, not con- 
 fining herself to the language of the eyes, 
 sent me notes, at different times, inviting 
 me to call on her; and not finding that cor- 
 responding affection which she hoped for in 
 me, she began to suspect I had some more 
 favored mistress in Naples, who was the 
 cause of my coldness. 
 
 " It pleased the King at this time to make 
 me champion at a tournament, which he or- 
 dered in honor of Cassandra: I had pre- 
 pared every thing against the appointed 
 day, when, on the preceding one, I receiv- 
 ed an embroidered scarf, and relic-case, 
 from Cassandra; in the latter I found her 
 picture, attached to one of my own, which 
 she had by some means or other got 
 possession of, I could not but be grateful 
 for this mark of favor, but, while I was arm- 
 ing, I found I had left it at home, and sent 
 the Count Alfred (who was my assistant) for 
 
 E
 
 58 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 it. Curiosity led him, as he was bringing 
 it, to open the relic-case, when, to his great 
 surprise, he saw Cassandra's and my pic- 
 tures. The Count, as well as myself, was an 
 attendant on the King, and had long been 
 jealous of the superior favor shown me; de- 
 sirous therefore to make use of this oppor- 
 tunity of injuring me, he related to the 
 King, after the jousting was over, all that he 
 had seen, and the favor which, he was led 
 by the picture to suppose, I enjoyed with the 
 Princess of Orbitella. The King, though 
 enraged to find that the little attention he 
 met with was owing to an affection she che- 
 rished for me, yet concealed his vexation, 
 and asked the Count, if possible, to gain 
 him a sight of the relic-case : Alfred, aided 
 in doing this by my sleeping at the palace, 
 soon found an opportunity of stealing it 
 from the head of my bed, and thus showed 
 to the Kins: what, before any thing in the
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 59 
 
 world, I could have wished to have kept 
 from him. 
 
 " The relic-case was returned to its place 
 without my suspecting what had been done; 
 but one day, soon afterwards, when I was 
 alone with the King, he told me suddenly, 
 that he found the cause of Cassandra's cold- 
 ness to him was, that I was her suitor, 
 and that he had learned she gave me pre- 
 sents of her work ; and then proceeded to 
 inform me about the relic-case. 
 
 " ' My lord/ 1 replied, with as much cool- 
 ness as I could, * your highness thinks I am 
 to blame, but were you acquainted with 
 half what 1 have done to serve you, you 
 would feel that I rather merited praise/ 
 
 " I then related to him every thing that had 
 passed betwixt Cassandra and myself— 
 showed him the relic-case, and, to satisfy 
 him wholly as to the truth of what I had 
 asserted, offered to set out that night for 
 Sicily.
 
 60 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 " The King, desirous, for the sake of his 
 own love, that I should absent myself from 
 Naples, was greatly pleased at my proposal, 
 although he wished me to remain with him 
 on account of the real friendship he bore me ; 
 he consequently did not give me permission 
 to go, but desired me merely to remain at 
 my own house. This however I did not choose 
 to do, as it would have looked like guilt; 
 therefore, fitting out a galley, I embarked, 
 with all my retinue, for Sicily, where we 
 were encountered by that dreadful storm 
 which wrecked us, but where, by the favor 
 of God, I reached land, and found protec- 
 tion and assistance from you." 
 
 Rogero here finished his narrative,through 
 which he had been followed by Stella with 
 the most profound attention, and deepest in- 
 terest ; and, in fine, the conclusion the lovers 
 drew was, that they ought certainly to con- 
 tinue their affection for each other, till, by 
 informing the Duke her father of every
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 
 
 61 
 
 thing, they might at length be united. Be- 
 fore they could do this, however, a discovery 
 was effected in another manner; for the 
 King of Sicily received a letter from Ro- 
 gero's sovereign, enquiring whether the 
 Prince of Salerno's galley had been wrecked 
 on the Sicilian coast, as a new report had 
 lately been raised, that he was saved. A 
 Neapolitan gentleman, who had brought 
 this letter, arrived the night before the 
 tournament, and, by the description of him, 
 found that the Prince of Salerno was con- 
 cealed in the Duke of Calabria's family, 
 under the disguise of an attendant. These 
 tidings were carried to the King after the 
 tournament, when he immediately ordered 
 Rogero to be conducted to his presence. 
 
 " What induced you, Rogero," said he, 
 
 to conceal yourself thus in my country ? * 
 
 Rogero, confused by this sudden question, 
 
 replied that he had quitted Naples in dis-
 
 6'2 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 grace, and therefore wished to remain un- 
 known. The King then expressed a wish 
 to know what had caused him to leave Na- 
 ples; to which Rogero replied, " Nothing, 
 except that he admired Sicily ;" and thus, 
 thinking it a good opportunity to make his 
 petition, continued, " that he wished no- 
 thing so much as to remain his subject, and 
 an inhabitant of Sicily, as well as to gain 
 his permission to wed the lovely Stella, 
 daughter to the Duke of Calabria, as he 
 was happy enough to possess her affection. 
 The King was much surprised and amus- 
 ed, to find he had made such good use of 
 his time, during his short stay, and promised 
 his interest, in their favor, with that Duke, 
 as well as with the Duke of Terranova ; but 
 if Stella's affections were another's, she was 
 to decide. 
 
 The King, on receiving Rogero's assur- 
 ance that Stella loved him in preference to
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 
 
 63 
 
 her cousin, sent for the Duke of Calabria, 
 and repeated to him all that had passed, 
 soon persuading him to give his consent to 
 the union, as Stella confirmed what her 
 lover had said, by declaring she would 
 marry no other. 
 
 The Duke of Terranova was so much 
 offended at this arrangement, that Rogero, 
 to soften him, offered him the hand of his 
 cousin, the Princess of Conca, and the two 
 weddings were celebrated together with the 
 greatest magnificence and joy.
 
 64 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 CLAUDIUS. 
 
 A TALE FROM THE SPANISH. 
 
 Rome was governed by the unconquered 
 Valerian, whose power was as much feared 
 by his neighbours, as his affability was loved 
 by his subjects; when, to ease himself at 
 the weight of government, he placed some 
 of its cares on Claudius, a Roman gen- 
 tleman, who was as much esteemed for 
 his noble blood, as for his great actions; 
 for, since he had been able to wield a sword, 
 which had been from his sixteenth year, he 
 had ever been foremost in dangers, and by 
 his deeds continually proved himself a Ro- 
 man. Placed in the most conspicuous station 
 at court, his valor, his talents, and his deserv-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 65 
 
 edly-admired accomplishments, gained him 
 the Emperor's friendship, and confidence; 
 he became his second self, and dispatched 
 the most weighty affairs, and those which 
 most nearly concerned the royal person. 
 Claudius was of an amiable disposition, and 
 handsome countenance ; affable, prudent, 
 and courteous — a friend to all; so that, 
 whatever place he filled, he possessed the 
 good-will of every one. So far superior was 
 he to all around him, that Octavia, the Em- 
 peror's sister, began to feel a warm affection 
 for him, which she took every opportunity 
 of making her eyes explain to him. Clau- 
 dius, though he easily perceived the love 
 the fair Octavia bore him, would not allow 
 her to see that he had discovered her par- 
 tiality ; for there would have been no in- 
 considerable danger attending an affection 
 for her, as he would inevitably have lost the 
 friendship of the Emperor, whom he knew
 
 66 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 wished to unite her to her cousin Decius, 
 then governor of Spain ; and to interrupt 
 this plan would have been certain ruin. 
 For this reason he would not encourage the 
 marks of love she favored him with, and 
 carefully avoided every opportunity of 
 being with her, which Octavia observing, 
 she grew melancholy and restless, constantly 
 brooding over the idea of her hopeless love 
 for Claudius. 
 
 It happened that, one day, the Emperor 
 went out deer-hunting with his sister, and her 
 ladies, and Claudius, who was never from 
 him, accompanied them. When the hunt 
 commenced, every one took the route that 
 pleased him, but Claudius was obliged to fol- 
 low that which Octavia took, as he was to at- 
 tend the Emperor, and they were together. 
 The huntsman soon discovered the track of 
 the deer, which they followed, accompanied 
 by the whole party, among whom was Oc-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 67 
 
 tavia, who was resolved to separate from the 
 chace as soon as she could get an opportu- 
 nity of doing so. The dogs shortly seized their 
 prize, and then hastened to a cool stream, 
 in which to refresh their wearied limbs. 
 Octavia, who had been in at the death, fol- 
 lowed their example, and, leaning on Clau- 
 dius's arm, their horses being tied to a tree, 
 sat down on the mossy turf which adorned 
 the banks of the stream, while Claudius, 
 (though he foresaw he should be much embar- 
 rassed by Octavia's conversation) could not 
 refuse to attend her till the Emperor should 
 arrive. After conversing for some time on 
 indifferent subjects, Octavia began thus: 
 
 44 There is one thing which much sur- 
 prises me, Claudius, and which, did I not 
 hear it universally talked of in Rome, I 
 should scarcely believe ; it is that you, 
 though the most admired and favored man 
 in this city, yet have never, for the love of
 
 68 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 any lady, lighted your torch at Cupid's altar. 
 I notice this the more, because all the other 
 youthful cavaliers talk much of their amours, 
 and of the ladies they serve, whileyou, whom 
 every thing combines to favor, have no pas- 
 sion ; does this arise from a disappoint- 
 ment? But indeed it must ; for what else 
 can it proceed from in one, where such florid 
 youth and true merit unite, but the cruelty 
 of some favorite fair one, which hinders you 
 from casting your eyes elsewhere, the only 
 true way of revenging yourself for her 
 slights." 
 
 Octavia now paused that Claudius might 
 reply, which he at length did thus : 
 
 " Fair Octavia, you should not wonder 
 that I, having arrived at the situation I now 
 hold (and more by our great Caesar's good- 
 ness than by my own merit), do not serve any 
 lady ; for, engaged by the business I have to 
 mind, did Cupid present me with one of his
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 69 
 
 arrows, I could not accept ; besides, love 
 generally attacks the idle, and, as I am 
 always engaged, he has not an opportunity 
 of pointing out to me his favorite objects. 
 His amusements too are very incompatible 
 with the business of a minister, which I 
 should give but a bad account of to the Em- 
 peror, whose favor I wish ever to possess, 
 did I give myself up to them/' 
 
 " The excuse of the minister must satisfy 
 me," returned Octavia, " yet I cannot 
 believe that you have been wholly blind 
 to the behaviour of a lady, who, to my 
 knowledge, wishes to gain your affection, 
 and I am sure has made her eyes tell you 
 so repeatedly." 
 
 " My timidity makes me use mine very 
 little/' replied he, " so that perhaps I have 
 greatly offended the lady who has done me 
 this honor." 
 
 " That will not do," said Octavia ; " for
 
 70 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 you have always slighted her, and yet she 
 has never ventured so much for any one 
 before, nor used her informers on any 
 other subject ; her dignity forbids it, and 
 she has given herself already sufficient pain 
 in endeavoring to conquer her passion." 
 
 In short, from one word to another, Oc- 
 tavia proceeded to disclose her sentiments, 
 when Claudius, although he evinced himself 
 very grateful for the honor she did him, yet 
 pointed out to her the displeasure it would 
 give her brother, who had formed other 
 plans for her; his intention being, it was 
 very well known, to unite her to her cousin 
 Decius, to whom he had already written on 
 the subject. 
 
 This news exceedingly displeased Oc- 
 tavia, as Decius was by no means agreeable 
 to her, and besides, was unpopular, and 
 proud. She entreated Claudius, therefore, 
 to return her love, as then, she doubted not*
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 71 
 
 but he would rise to be her brother's com- 
 panion and equal, as love had before con- 
 quered greater difficulties than these. 
 
 Thus encouraged, Claudius could not 
 avoid answering to the favor shown him, 
 and he met her several times at a lattice 
 which opened on the garden ; though he 
 never entertained very sanguine hopes of 
 being able to raise himself to be her hus- 
 band, as, moreover, he found that her mar- 
 riage with Decius was in a state of forward- 
 ness, and only waited for his arrival to take 
 place. 
 
 In this situation were the lovers; Octavia 
 more enamoured than ever, and Claudius 
 very desirous of extricating himself from 
 the affair, when, at a grand festival in 
 honor of Jupiter, Claudius, being in the 
 temple with the Emperor, was suddenly 
 struck by the appearance of the most per- 
 fect beauty he had ever beheld — one who
 
 72 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 far exceeded all the Roman damsels who 
 surrounded her. She was but newly come 
 from France, where her father Atilius had 
 been governor under Valerian, but now had 
 retired to Rome to repose himselfafter all the 
 fatigues of his past life. Portia was the com- 
 fort of his age, the balm of all his griefs, and 
 the centre of his hope and joy. Claudius 
 viewed this damsel, who was among those 
 of the highest rank, with such earnest atten- 
 tion, that her charms had time to make their 
 way to his heart, and from that day he felt 
 their whole power. 
 
 When he assisted in the temple, and per- 
 formed the solemn sacrifices to Jupiter, he 
 contrived to make his eyes disclose to Portia 
 the flame her beauty had lighted in his 
 bosom ; and his behaviour struck her so 
 much, that she asked a friend who was with 
 her, who Claudius was, as her late arrival in 
 the city had not allowed her yet to know
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. ?3 
 
 him. The friend, with whom he was a fa- 
 vorite, informed her, at much length, of his 
 merits, the high post he held, and the great 
 intimacy he enjoyed with the Emperor ; on 
 hearing which, Portia was not sorry to observe 
 the attention he paid her, and she secretly 
 resolved, if he persevered, to show him some 
 kindness; so well did she like his person, and 
 the account given of his fortunes and merit. 
 
 From that day Claudius was very diligent 
 in his attentions to Portia, though privately, 
 that it might not reach the knowledge of 
 Octavia, with whom he continued his meet- 
 ings at the garden lattice: he also publicly 
 visited Portia, telling Octavia that other- 
 wise he feared Valerian might suspect some- 
 thing, and be angry with him. 
 
 About this time the venerable Atilius, 
 Portia's father, died, leaving her, his heiress, 
 very rich. The funeral was conducted with 
 the pomp usual when a person of rank died, 
 
 F
 
 74 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 and the lovely mourner retired, for some 
 time, from company; but Claudius, after 
 the first effusion of her grief had passed, 
 soon resumed his visits, and in fine, not a very 
 long time afterwards married her; though 
 with the greatest secrecy, that Octavia, 
 whom he had mentioned to Portia, might 
 not hear of it ; and, by Portia's advice, con- 
 tinued his attentions to her, it not being 
 probable that this unpleasant state could 
 last long, as Decius was now daily expected. 
 While these things passed in Rome, Ca- 
 millus, a powerful captain, and respected 
 soldier, who was governor of Upper Da- 
 nonia, in Hungary, revolted, hoping to 
 make himself master of that kingdom. The 
 Emperor, when he heard the tidings, resolved 
 to chastise the rebel in person, and, con- 
 voking his legions, with them, and some 
 newly-raised troops, left Rome hastily, that 
 Camillus might not have time to prepare
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 75 
 
 himself. Claudius was obliged to accom- 
 pany this expedition, as the Emperor never 
 parted from him. His approaching absence 
 was severely felt by Octavia, and Portia, 
 with the latter of whom he felt the deepest 
 sorrow at parting: with the former he ex- 
 pressed a feigned affliction, hoping, in his 
 heart, that he should, on his return, find her 
 united to Decius, when he might confess 
 his marriage with Portia to the Emperor, 
 and celebrate it publicly. 
 
 When the Emperor reached Hungary he 
 found Belgrade, the capital, fortified by Ca- 
 millus ; he placed himself before it, but was 
 a good deal annoyed by three sallies from 
 the town, which, however, he received 
 bravely. The inhabitants, however, at 
 length returning to a sense of their miscon- 
 duct,^ thus rebelling, with Camillus, against 
 their rightful sovereign, resolved to give up 
 the city to him, together with the person of
 
 76 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 the traitor. They commenced, therefore, a 
 secret correspondence with the Emperor, 
 and, at a time when Camillus least expected 
 it, opened the gates to the royal soldiers, 
 who took possession of the city, either kil- 
 ling or making prisoners of the rebels, and, 
 as a principal warning to others, Camillus 
 was executed on a scaffold in sis;ht of the 
 imperial guard. This done, the Emperor 
 took a tour through Hungary, restoring 
 every thing to proper order, and, to the 
 satisfaction of every one, keeping the 
 government of it in his own hands. 
 
 Csesar now wished to send his sister an 
 account of his happy success, and consulted 
 with Claudius who was the most proper per- 
 son to em ploy in this business ; Claudius, who 
 ardently longed to see his bride, proposed 
 carrying the intelligence himself, which offer 
 the emperor was much pleased with, as he 
 imagined it to proceed only from the desire
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 77 
 
 of giving greater importance to the news; 
 he therefore sent his favorite off post, 
 accompanied merely by two captains, who 
 wished also to go. 
 
 Claudius reached Rome late at night, and 
 therefore resolved to indulge himself, by 
 spending that night at his wife's, and defer- 
 ring his visit to Octavia and the palace till 
 next day : but the happiness he enjoyed in 
 the society of his Portia, tempted him to 
 prolong his secret stay, and he charged his 
 captains on that, and the two following 
 nights, not to speak of his arrival; for, as he 
 wished his conference with Octavia to be 
 magnificent, he required some little time for 
 preparation : those who had accompanied 
 him, however, having discovered that he was 
 married to Portia, easily saw through this 
 pretence, and resolved, in spite of his orders, 
 to go to Rome. The news of their arrival 
 was not long in reaching Octavia, who sent
 
 78 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 for them, and learned the victory her bro- 
 ther had gained, together with the arrival of 
 Claudius, and the cause of his delaying to 
 appear. This last intelligence went to Oc- 
 tavia's heart; she dismissed the captains, 
 telling them not to mention to Claudius 
 that she knew of his arrival ; then, shutting 
 herself up in her own apartment, she gave 
 free vent to those sighs and tears which the 
 perfidious and ungrateful Claudius bore 
 from her, while the love she had hitherto 
 borne him turned to deadly hatred. In the 
 midst of her grief, Publius Emilius, an an- 
 cient consul, found her; he had been left 
 governor of Rome, by the Emperor, during 
 his stay in Hungary. Emilius already 
 knew that Claudius was arrived, and won- 
 dered what detained him from bringing the 
 good news himself, little imagining the real 
 cause of his delay. On seeing Octavia in 
 tears, he enquired the cause of them, and, as
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 79 
 
 she felt assured that he was worthy her confi- 
 dence, related to him the love she had long 
 borne Claudius, and the hope she had en- 
 tertained of making her brother consent to 
 her union with him, notwithstanding the 
 treaty of marriage subsisting betwixt herself 
 and Decius ; and she concluded by begging 
 Emilius to advise her how best to revenge 
 herself on the ungrateful Claudius, and his 
 wife. The consul dissuaded her from doing 
 any thing against Claudius himself, as he 
 was the Emperor's favorite, and one on 
 whom the eyes of all Rome were placed; 
 but, as a better way of revenging herself, to 
 allow him, during Claudius's interview with 
 her, to go to his wife's house, and kill her; 
 thus the ties which bound Claudius being 
 demolished, nothing would hinder him 
 becoming her husband. This plan met with 
 Octavia's approbation, and, leaving the 
 management of it to Emilius, she waited
 
 80 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 patiently till Claudius should think proper 
 to present himself. 
 
 Not long after this plan had been settled, 
 Claudius came, with the utmost splendour, 
 accompanied by his captains, intoOctavia's 
 presence, who received him in state, placed 
 under a canopy. He gave her a minute 
 account of the victory — that he had left the 
 Emperor in good health, and anxious to 
 return to Rome; Octavia, then rising from 
 her seat, thus replied : 
 
 " When a subject is honored by the trust 
 of a message from a king, it is an act of wil- 
 ful disobedience not to perform the com- 
 mand punctually. This news, which you 
 ought to have been the first to bring, and 
 not to have allowed any thing, or any body, 
 to have hindered you from announcing im- 
 mediately, I have heard these three days." 
 
 Then turning from Claudius, she left him 
 as much surprised at the expression of her
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 81 
 
 countenance while she spoke, as apprehen- 
 sive that she had discovered the cause of 
 his delay. 
 
 The idea that he had not performed his 
 duty to the Emperor in not treating so kind 
 a master with openness, also weighed on his 
 mind, and, with his spirits much depressed, 
 he returned to his lodgings, where he found 
 Emilius, who, taking him aside, addressed 
 him thus: 
 
 " You would have been prudent, my 
 Lord Claudius, had you, when you pos- 
 sessed the fair Octavia's affections, taken 
 advantage of the opportunity, and have 
 continued yourself in them ; for love levels 
 ranks, and marriage obliterates errors. Oc- 
 tavia intended to have made you her lord 
 and husband, for which purpose she would 
 have dissuaded the Emperor from uniting 
 her to her cousin. You have rewarded her 
 disinterested love with ingratitude, by mar-
 
 82 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 rying Portia, which Octavia has been in- 
 formed of, and, to punish you, has ordered 
 me to conduct you, under a guard of fifty 
 soldiers, to your wife, whom you will be 
 obliged, by Marius, the leader of them, to 
 kill with your own hand. If you do this, 
 Octavia's love will recompense you ; but if 
 you refuse, both you and Portia must die." 
 
 Emilius then, without waiting for an an- 
 swer, retired — the soldiers entered — Marius 
 took Claudius's sword, and he was con- 
 ducted to his wife's house. 
 
 The lovely Portia, unsuspicious of the 
 cause of this fatal visit, received her hus- 
 band, who entered alone, with open arms, 
 and a thousand caresses ; but Claudius 
 seemed insensible to her tenderness, and 
 when she enquired the cause of his melan- 
 choly, only answered her by eyes raised to 
 Heaven, and tender sighs ; at length her 
 tears ^forced the fatal story from him ; all
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 83 
 
 that had passed was unfolded to her — Oc- 
 tavia's order, and the commission Marius 
 was to see executed. The courageous Portia 
 then addressed her husband, without a 
 change of countenance being visible, in 
 these words : 
 
 " Oh, my husband ! I love you with such 
 tenderness, that, instead of beseeching you 
 to spare my guiltless life, now 1 find my 
 death will add to your life and happiness, 
 I beg you to hasten it : I am here — draw 
 your dagger, and execute the order you have 
 received. — What delays you ? — death from 
 your hand will be sweet to me. Oh, my 
 love ! let not your affection for me restrain 
 your hand ; — on my knees I beg the blow." 
 
 Thus spoke the fair Roman, and with 
 such warmth, that she not only affected her 
 husband, but even the soldiers who had been 
 sent in by Marius, to conclude the business. 
 Claudius, as he listened to her, appeared a
 
 84" TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 Jiving statue, while the tears which streamed 
 down his cheeks, hindered him from an- 
 swering; buthe resolved to die a thousand 
 deaths ere he would be accessary to that of 
 his beloved bride. Locked in each other's 
 arms, and mingling their tears, they stood 
 immovable, when Marius, tired of waiting, 
 and glad of an opportunity of expressing 
 his dislike to Claudius, entered, saying: 
 
 " My Lord Claudius, you have delayed 
 long enough ; I must return toOctavia, and 
 tell her that my commission is performed, 
 and Portia dead ; either take her life, or 
 prepare to lose your own." 
 
 Claudius, irritated to madness by these 
 words, drew his sword, and attacked Marius, 
 exclaiming: 
 
 " First, vile minister of a still viler order, 
 you shall find how highly I prize my wife's 
 existence \" 
 
 This availed but little ; for Marius, call-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 85 
 
 ing in the rest of the soldiers, they surround- 
 ed Claudius, while their leader, lifting Por- 
 tia in his arms, carried her to a gallery 
 which overhung the Tiber's clear stream ; 
 here, to avoid all noise and struggles, and 
 to shorten the scene, he threw her over into 
 the waves; then, returning to Claudius, he 
 related what he had done. The noble 
 Claudius, struck to the heart by this intelli- 
 gence, rushed among the soldiers, anxious 
 to meet death; but, careful not to hurt him, 
 they carried him bound to a tower, till they 
 knew Octavia's pleasure. 
 
 Marius carried the joyful intelligence to 
 Octavia, whose best thanks he received, and 
 strictest orders to carefully attend on Clau- 
 dius, that he might find no opportunity 
 of injuring himself; but the idea of his 
 Portia's death continually haunted him, and 
 at length turned his brain; so that, had he 
 not been prevented, under the influence of
 
 86 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 his delirium, he would have ran all over 
 Rome, crying out against the cruel Octavia, 
 and mourning the loss of his wife. 
 
 In the mean time Portia, protected by 
 Heaven, and buoyed up by her clothes, 
 floated down the stream as far as one of the 
 Emperor's charming villas, before which 
 she was stopped by two of the gardeners, 
 who, rescuing her from her perilous situa- 
 tion, carried her to the house, and gave her 
 into the care of their sisters, who succeeded 
 in restoring her to animation. Here, under 
 a peasant's dress, she remained concealed, 
 hoping for happier times, and not even 
 confiding to her generous preservers her real 
 name and dignity. 
 
 The Emperor was now returning from his 
 campaign, and about a mile from Rome 
 learnt that his well-beloved Claudius had 
 lost his senses ; this intelligence of one so 
 dear to him shocked him severely: he was
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 87 
 
 told that the cause of his derangement was 
 a fall from his horse ; for even the most 
 publicly-known facts may be concealed 
 from kings, if they do not take pains to 
 inform themselves of what is passing in their 
 states. 
 
 Not wishing to enter Rome that day, he 
 stopped at his villa, where Portia was still 
 residing, and whom, as it happened, he saw. 
 Though dressed in rustic habiliments, and 
 her beauty clouded by sorrow, yet she 
 struck the Emperor so forcibly, that he ar- 
 dently longed to procure an opportunity of 
 speaking to her privately. He confided his 
 wishes to a Roman gentleman named Faus- 
 tus, who, by sending the inhabitants of the 
 house away on different pretences, gave the 
 Emperor an opportunity of going to the 
 garden where Portia was alone, gathering a 
 nosegay. The Emperor, observing her em- 
 ployment, said :
 
 88 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 " Fair villager, for whom do you form 
 that nosegay, which is eclipsed by the roses 
 of those cheeks, the orange-flowers of that 
 forehead, the carnation of those lips, and the 
 jessamine of those hands? Leave your oc- 
 cupation, and in this transparent fountain 
 see the perfections I speak of, and which 
 Heaven has blessed you with to conquer all 
 hearts." 
 
 Portia, who felt but little pleased with 
 this eulogium, answered in such simple and 
 unpolished words as her dress might lead 
 him to expect. The Emperor began his 
 hyperbolical praises over again, and finding 
 that she was an uneducated rustic, on whom 
 such superior loveliness was but thrown 
 away, and encouraged by the appearance 
 of stupidity she had assumed, thought he 
 might proceed to further liberties; but Por- 
 tia evinced such a firm resistance of them, 
 yet still keeping up her rustic manner, that
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 8Q 
 
 the Emperor thought it best to desist, fear- 
 ing she might otherwise raise her voice ; and 
 he resolved that Faustus should first soften 
 her by presents. 
 
 That night he slept at the villa, and next 
 day made his triumphal entry into Rome, 
 as was always customary with those emperors 
 who had conquered. He went to his palace 
 in state, where he was met by Octavia, full 
 of joy for his return, and under no appre- 
 hension that he should learn the real cause 
 of Claudius's madness, by hearing of Portia. 
 
 While the brother and sister were yet 
 conversing, a noise was heard, in the anti- 
 chamber, of voices in altercation : the Em- 
 peror enquired the cause, and found that 
 Claudius, in the fury of his delirium, had 
 broken loose, and, in defiance of the guards, 
 insisted on entering. The Emperor resolv- 
 ed to indulge his humor by seeing him, and 
 therefore ordered him to be admitted ; im- 
 
 G
 
 90 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 mediately Claudius, with his clothes torn, 
 his countenance haggard, and his hair dis- 
 hevelled, rushed in, and, throwinghimself at 
 the Emperor's feet as if to implore justice, 
 kissed them. Emilius then, to render what- 
 ever Claudius might say of no effect, told 
 the Emperor that, since the loss of his 
 senses, Claudius had continually raved of 
 some supposed injury, and intreated justice 
 for it. The Emperor, desirous to hear his 
 story, ordered him to rise, when Claudius, 
 in incoherent words, began to exclaim 
 against the cruel tyranny of Octavia, and, 
 in wild metaphorical language, related the 
 story of his wife's murder. Octavia, dur- 
 ing this trying scene, concealed her feel- 
 ings completely, her countenance only ex- 
 hibiting that sorrow it was natural she 
 should feel at his melancholy situation. 
 The Emperor ordered him to be conducted 
 to his villa (the same, as it happened, where
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 91 
 
 Portia was) and to be attended with the 
 strictest care, by a gentleman who was 
 obliged to accompany him thither, with his 
 hands and fret manacledT 
 
 When Portia learned that, by an uncom- 
 mon chance, her husband was brought to be 
 an inhabitant of the same house with her- 
 self, she took the greatest care to avoid him, 
 fearing that, should he see and know her, 
 Octavia would hear of it, and her life again 
 be in danger. With all her caution, she 
 was one day, however, unable to conceal 
 herself from him, when he immediately re- 
 cognized her; but, supposing it was her 
 spirit, which, actuated by affection, had 
 returned to see him, he exclaimed : 
 
 " Oh, superior loveliness ! Spirit of that 
 beauty which my eyes adored, and which 
 they now weep the loss of! tell me if you 
 come, by the order of the sovereign gods, to 
 console my broken heart, or to restore me
 
 92 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 to my disordered senses. Have they al- 
 lowed you to break the chrystal waters of 
 the Tyber, the fatal grave of your inno- 
 cence, to be a solace to my pains, a con- 
 soler of my sorrows, and a support to my 
 unhappy weakness ?" 
 
 As Claudius approached while he spoke, 
 Portia feared he would discover his mis- 
 take, and, perhaps, the sudden surprise and 
 joy he would experience might, instead of 
 curing him, be fatal to his disordered intel- 
 lects ; therefore she thought it best to hu- 
 mor the turn his frenzy had given it, and 
 replied thus : 
 
 " Claudius, I am your wife, who, by the 
 command of Jove, have left the chrystal 
 throne which, since Marius killed me, has 
 been my station, to give you comfort by 
 seeing me, but dare not profane my purity 
 by attempting to touch me, which, if you 
 do, doubt not but you will offend the ma-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 93 
 
 jesty of Jove, and I shall never more 
 return." 
 
 Claudius was pained by this appointed 
 limit ; but, not to infringe on the com- 
 mands of Jove, he only gazed on her. 
 While he was still feasting his eyes on her 
 beloved form, the person who had the care 
 of him called him, which, Portia hearing, 
 said hastily: 
 
 " They seek you, Claudius ; no eyes but 
 yours must behold me — rest in peace; I 
 will be with you when } r ou are alone/' 
 
 Notwithstanding Claudius earnestly be- 
 sought her to stay, Portia retreated among 
 some thick myrtles, and hastened to the 
 gardener's habitation. During the conver- 
 sation Claudius had asked her why she ap- 
 peared in the form of a peasant, to which 
 she replied, that Jove had ordered it so; 
 and, as subjects were not privileged to en- 
 quire into the motives that actuated their 
 sovereigns, she did not know the reason.
 
 94 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 From the day that Claudius had held this 
 conversation with the supposed spirit of his 
 departed Portia, he became more calm, 
 which happy change in his favorite, much 
 rejoiced the Emperor; and he resolved to 
 pay him a visit, accompanied by Octavia, 
 privately ordering Faustus to make an op- 
 portunity for him of conversing with the 
 country girl. 
 
 Every thing requisite for making their 
 short stay agreeable was dispatched to the 
 villa before the Emperor, and his sister, with 
 their retinue, set out. They found Claudius 
 perfectly calm, and, on their enquiring of 
 him the cause of this happy change, he told 
 them, that the spirit of his murdered wife 
 had appeared to him for his consolation. 
 As theEmperor had not the most remote sus- 
 picion that he ever had a wife, those, whose 
 business it was to deceive him, easily per- 
 suaded him that Claudius's words were only 
 the effect of delirium, and the Emperor felt
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 95 
 
 glad that his unfortunate favorite had 
 formed any idea that could render him 
 
 easy. 
 
 After dinner the Emperor was informed, 
 by Faustus, that Portia was in the garden 
 alone — he accordingly hastened thither, 
 and found her in a wilderness of myrtles. 
 Here he assailed her with all the eloquence 
 of persuasive flattery ; but finding her care- 
 less of all he said, was about to have re- 
 course to ruder arguments, when Claudius 
 appeared, and seeing the Emperor infring- 
 ing the prescribed limits with his adored 
 spirit, exclaimed in a loud voice : 
 
 " What is it you do, guilty monarch ! 
 Offend not the gods by profaning the purity 
 and lustre of a spirit who enjoys the per- 
 fection of bliss." 
 
 Portia, anxious that her husband should 
 not offend the Emperor, to whom he owed 
 so much, said,
 
 96 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 " Oh ! most high monarch — unconquer- 
 ed Emperor of the world, refrain ; you 
 know me not ; — listen to me, and you will 
 then learn what will strike you with asto- 
 nishment/' 
 
 The grace and dignity which now shone 
 round the supposed peasant, had already 
 surprised the Emperor, and, imagining 
 there must be some uncommon mystery 
 about her, he retreated from her as he 
 besought her to proceed : she then related 
 to him, as concisely as possible, the affec- 
 tion borne by Octavia, to Claudius, and 
 and his uniting himself to Portia, that he 
 might avoid offending his master, by ap- 
 pearing to aim at raising himself to be the 
 princess's husband: — How the story of his 
 marriage had reached Octavia's ears — her 
 subsequent cruelty — and Portia's miracu- 
 lous delivery from the waves ;— and of her 
 supposed death being the cause of Clau-
 
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 FROM THE SPANISH. 97 
 
 dius's insanity. Portia, then throwing her- 
 self at the Emperor's feet, implored him to 
 take pity on them, and to allow her hus- 
 band to take her back again, that they 
 might once more enjoy their former hap- 
 piness. The Emperor was mute with as- 
 tonishment, while the transfixed Claudius 
 felt returning reason restored to him with 
 his lost Portia. 
 
 The Emperor resolved to reward their 
 faithful loves ; but desired the affair might 
 remain secret till his sister was married to 
 Decius, who arrived on the same evening 
 in which this scene took place : Octavia, 
 unable to assign any reason for refusing to 
 oblige her brother, and seeing that Claudius 
 showed no symptoms of returning reason, 
 gave her unwilling hand to Decius. After 
 these nuptials, the happier union of Clau- 
 dius and Portia were publicly solemnised, 
 to the poignant sorrow of Octavia, who had
 
 98 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 the mortification of finding, that all her 
 power had not been able to remove the 
 hated Portia from her sight, nor to change 
 the faithful affection of Claudius.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 99 
 
 ERNEST THE REBEL. 
 
 A TALE FROM THE SPANISH. 
 
 In the twelfth century, when the barons 
 
 had it in their power to crush, or raise, at 
 
 will, those who depended on them, lived a 
 
 man of the name of Ernest ; — he had been 
 
 a loyal subject — had fought under Henry's 
 
 banners — and could shew the wounds he 
 
 had received in opposing himself to the 
 
 filial disobedience of that unhappy prince's 
 
 sons ; yet could not these shield him from 
 the tyranny of the baron, under whose 
 
 dominion he lived, and whose cruelty made 
 
 him universally hated by all his tenantry. 
 
 Ernest had hoped to retire to the arms 
 
 of his family in his declining years, alter
 
 100 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 an irksome attendance on camps during his 
 
 3'outh ; but the extortions, and injustice of 
 
 Baron Fitzwalter, deprived him of the 
 
 competence he had laboured to acquire ; 
 
 and he beheld himself, with many of his 
 
 neighbours, compelled to labour for his 
 
 bread, in that garden which, hitherto, had 
 
 been only his amusement, and the scene of 
 
 his son's infant labours. His wife sunk 
 under the change — his son, whose ardent 
 
 spirit, as well as the desire to support him- 
 self, led to the busy path his father had 
 trod before him, left their cottage, and 
 joined the army ; and his daughter alone 
 remained to tell him he was once happy. 
 Her gentleness — her great resemblance to 
 her mother — and her tenderness, soothed 
 his irritated spirit, which, however, the 
 name of Fitzwalter never failed to rouse to 
 passion. 
 
 At length the hated tyrant died; and,
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 101 
 
 urged by Ernest, the vassals, who had 
 waited anxiously for this moment of free- 
 dom, united to hinder the young Fitzwalter, 
 the Baron's only son, from coming to take 
 possession of his inheritance ; and justice 
 was forgotten even by Ernest, in the recol- 
 lection of past wrongs. Headed by Ernest, 
 these irritated men formed a bold, and de- 
 termined band ; they fought for liberty ; 
 their wives, their helpless children looked 
 up to them for protection, and should they 
 tamely let them sink again under oppres- 
 sion's scourge ? Such were the arguments 
 used by Ernest to inspirit his friends, as 
 they formed around him ; but their arms 
 were useless ; weeks passed on, and no young 
 Baron appeared ; he was either too much 
 engaged by the duties of a camp, or too 
 deeply involved in the pleasures of the 
 court, to think his castle, and extensive 
 domain, worth his attention ; and the te-
 
 102 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 nantry returned to their usual occupations, 
 encouraging the delusive hope that they 
 should be permitted to pass the rest of 
 their days uninterrupted by the presence of 
 the hated Fitzwalter; even Ernest began 
 to smooth his brow, though still on the 
 alert to learn who approached the castle. 
 
 One night when Ernest and his daughter 
 were sitting alone over their humble fire, 
 the conversation ran upon the late affairs: 
 
 " Roselma," said Ernest, " you know not 
 what you might have been exposed to, had 
 our young tyrant come hither; the licen- 
 tiousness of a court, and the free manners 
 a camp gives, might have caused many a 
 sigh to parents, now happy in the inno- 
 cence of their children/' 
 
 " Then my brother's return may do the 
 same father," replied Roselma, " since he 
 has been exposed a little to one, and a 
 good deal to the other."
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 103 
 
 " What was his father?" exclaimed Ernest, 
 his eye flashing fire as he turned his thoughts 
 to the young Baron — " a ferocious tyger ; 
 but while Fitz waiter keeps away I am 
 happy/' 
 
 " Poor youth/' sighed Roselma, " he 
 may not deserve our hatred." 
 
 " What !" sternly resumed Ernest, " do 
 you plead for your parent's foe ? — But come, 
 you are young, and have not yet felt the 
 smart of a tyrant's lash. Come, my Ro- 
 selma, take your lute, and sing my favo- 
 rite song ; the words were yours, therefore 
 I love them." 
 
 Roselma took her lute, and, tuning it, 
 added the soft sounds of her voice in sing- 
 ing the following lines : 
 
 i. 
 
 u Oh why should sorrow reach the soldier's cot, 
 Where peace should smile, and sorrow be forgot ? 
 Or why should tyranny e'er gloom the day, 
 Which ought to brighten o'er the soldier's way ?—
 
 104 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 Oh ! when will peace resume her ancient seat, 
 Or joy again illume this sad retreat ? 
 
 2. 
 
 Let care, and sorrow, fly to thrones, and courts, 
 Not mix their venom in our rural sports ; 
 In guilty bosoms make their stay so rude, 
 But ne'er into a soldier's breast intrude: — 
 Oh ! Peace, and Joy, resume thy ancient seat, 
 And once again illume this sad retreat !" 
 
 Scarcely had Roselma finished her song, 
 ere a tapping at the door surprised her 
 father, and herself; the former asked who 
 was there, and, in a voice familiar to their 
 ear, received for answer : 
 
 " A friend." 
 
 Ernest scarcely waited to hear, 
 
 " Your son Theodore" — added : on open- 
 ing the door, he found himself in his son's 
 arms. 
 
 Ernest and his daughter were so wholly 
 occupied by this dear visitor, that they did
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 105 
 
 not observe a youth who accompanied him; 
 till Theodore, addressing his sister, said : 
 
 " Tis well, Roselma, that your song was 
 favorable to soldiers, as two were listening 
 to you.*' 
 
 " Is this youth a soldier ?" asked the 
 father. 
 
 " He is," returned Theodore ; " he was 
 led, by youthful folly, to join the disobe- 
 dient Prince's party ; but his reason soon 
 returning, he deserted, and, as he is sharply 
 pursued, I promised him refuge in your 
 cottage ; knowing that its door was never 
 closed against distress." 
 
 " The protection of my humble roof is 
 welcome to him," said Ernest, viewing the 
 stranger's martial figure, and noble coun- 
 tenance, with admiration ; " and I am glad, 
 youth, to learn that the gaudy promises of 
 filial disobedience did not long deceive 
 you into dishonor." 
 
 H
 
 106 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 The young man, whose name was Mau- 
 rice, bowed respectfully, and sat down to a 
 meal which Roselma had prepared for the 
 travellers, and who, while her every motion 
 was followed by the stranger's admiring 
 eyes, remained wholly occupied with the 
 business of hospitality. 
 
 Theodore scarcely staid to see Maurice 
 settled at the cottage, and a favorite with 
 his father, ere he again left them to attend 
 his duty, telling Maurice he would send 
 him word when he might appear with 
 safety ; but this time was soon almost 
 looked forward to with apprehension by 
 Ernest, who, every day, found something 
 new to love, and admire, in the young 
 stranger ; he confided to him the cause of 
 his sorrows — of the old Baron's tyranny-*- 
 how the young one was hated by his peo- 
 ple — and their determination to withstand 
 him to the last drop of their blood.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 107 
 
 " Then you know him to be unworthy?" 
 said Maurice. 
 
 " Ah," joined in Roselma, " my father 
 has not even seen him." 
 
 " But, did I not know his father ?" re- 
 turned Ernest; the remembrance of what 
 Baron Fitzwalter had made him suffer, as 
 usual, flushing his cheek, and animating 
 his eye ; " and have not I, and my friends, 
 groaned long enough beneath a tyrant's 
 sway ? Maurice, you will lend your arm to 
 repel a harsh oppressor ?" 
 
 " My arm shall always be ready to re- 
 pel tyranny/' exclaimed the youth, with 
 an ardor which charmed the old man. 
 
 Roselma and Maurice could not be con- 
 stantly together, for three months, without 
 feeling a warm sense of each other's nume- 
 rous virtues; he loved, and confessed it to 
 his mistress, who was too artless to dis- 
 guise her feelings, and fear of her father
 
 108 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 alone restrained her from giving way to 
 them, and promising to become his bride, 
 in spite of the obstacles which Maurice 
 confessed, at present hindered him from 
 asking her of her father :— Rosel ma felt 
 considerable pride in the affection borne 
 her, by one so loved as Maurice; for, 
 during his short stay with them, he had 
 contrived to render himself the object of 
 gratitude and esteem of the whole neigh- 
 bourhood; if there was a life to be saved 
 by an act of gallant bravery, Maurice was 
 the first to plunge into the wave, or rush 
 among the flames ; if a destitute family had 
 a sick parent to nurse, he was their physi- 
 cian, and consoler; — smiles welcomed his 
 approach, and sighs followed his departure. 
 No Theodore, nor any messenger from 
 him, appeared, therefore Maurice still found 
 a secure and welcome home at Ernest's 
 cottage ; this peace, however, was too soon
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 109 
 
 disturbed by the intelligence, that the 
 young Baron Fitzwalter, with a strong body 
 of troops, was coming to seize possession of 
 his domains, and punish, with all the seve- 
 rity of military justice, and the cruelty of 
 his father, those who had ranged themselves 
 under Rebellion's banner. 
 
 " Now, my friends," exclaimed Ernest 
 to his neighbours, as they again formed 
 round him, " now is the time to assert your 
 rights; let us never sink beneath the ty- 
 ranny of a boy !" 
 
 The crowd received Ernest's speech with 
 animated shouts, and the cry of — 
 
 81 Maurice shall lead us on ! we will fight 
 with the brave Maurice!" 
 
 "I will lead you on!" exclaimed the 
 youth. " You shall never find Maurice a 
 friend to oppression : but first, Ernest, pro- 
 mise, if fortune smiles, and I return such as 
 you approve, still followed by these brave
 
 110 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 men, and still saluted by the cry of 
 ' Maurice shall lead us on !' promise that 
 your daughter shall be my reward : we love 
 each other. — Promise this, and I go." 
 
 Ernest paused, surprised at this unex- 
 pected request : the crowd vociferated — 
 
 " Yes, yes ! Maurice will deserve the fair 
 Roselma." 
 
 " Go then/' said Ernest, " and if you 
 return thus honorably, Roselma shall be 
 yours." 
 
 Maurice and his valiant band then march- 
 ed, while Ernest, whose age and many in- 
 firmities prevented from accompanying 
 them, and his weeping daughter, retired to 
 their now gloomy cottage. 
 
 Different reports reached them during 
 the whole of that day and night ; some said 
 that Maurice and his party had been taken 
 prisoners, others, that they were killed ; but 
 none wounded Ernest to the soul more than
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. Ill 
 
 those which said that Theodore led the 
 Baron's soldiers. 
 
 " What, my son assist oppression !" ex- 
 claimed he — " impossible !'' 
 
 In the mean time poor Roselma was torn 
 by a thousand inquietudes : should Maurice 
 be crowned with victory, she shuddered at 
 the idea of his being only distinguished as 
 the captain of a band of rebels, and of being 
 accessary to an act of injustice ; and, if the 
 Baron should conquer, what would be the 
 fate of her brave Maurice, and aged father! 
 Every different view of the affair only caused 
 her additional pain. The worst of her fears 
 was soon realised by the certain intelligence 
 that the Baron was victorious, and rapidly ap- 
 proaching ; Ernest, a prey to the most cruel 
 apprehensions for the safety of those friends 
 he had principally urged to go, and which 
 he now dreaded to think were about to be 
 sacrificed at the altar of revenge, sat in his
 
 112 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 cottage unable to exert himself ; while Ro- 
 selma, at the door, put up a silent prayer 
 for the safety of her lover. Her listening 
 ear at length caught the sounds of martial 
 music; she could even see banners and other 
 ensigns of war at a distance. Overcome 
 with terror, she sunk on her knees, sur- 
 rounded by a crowd of females, who were 
 weeping the fate of some friend, who only 
 the day before had left them glowing with 
 health, and buoyed up with the hopes of 
 glory. 
 
 " Oh/' exclaimed Roselma, clasping her 
 hands, " we are lost ! Maurice is killed ! 
 the cruel Baron is come, and my father 
 must die !" 
 
 The military party approached rapidly, 
 and Roselma could now distinguish, fore- 
 most of the band, a knight, whose magnifi- 
 cent armour blazed in the sun, and who 
 rode on a white horse, richly caparisoned.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 113 
 
 " One effort for my dear parent," ex- 
 claimed Roselma, rising, and struggling 
 with her fears—" Some of you, my friends, 
 have fathers to sue for— the Baron is young 
 — he will pity youth in distress; come, 
 my dear companions, let us intreat for 
 those who have watched our helpless 
 infancy." 
 
 As she pronounced these words she bent 
 her faltering steps to the Baron's party ; 
 seeing females approach, young Fitzwalter 
 (for it was he who rode the white horse) 
 stopped his troop and alighted, as did all 
 his officers : Roselma, subdued by the sud- 
 den clatter of arms this occasioned, and 
 unable to raise her eyes, sunk on one knee, 
 and in a low and trembling voice pro- 
 nounced a few words, which not even the 
 Baron could hear; then, pointing to the 
 cottage which contained the parent she pe- 
 titioned for, overcome by a variety of feel-
 
 114 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 ings, would have sunk to the ground, but 
 for the supporting arms of the Baron, who 
 had observed her changing countenance, 
 and flown to her assistance. She was 
 scarcely a moment insensible; and, on 
 opening her eyes, the first object they met 
 was her brother, who, pressing her hand, 
 with a smile, said — 
 
 " Is this your welcome, Roselma ? look 
 round, and blush for your alarm/' 
 
 Roselma raised her eyes, and they met 
 those of Maurice, who, hanging over her, 
 watched every turn of her lovely counte- 
 nance. Starting at the sight of those fea- 
 tures she had feared now inanimate in 
 death, she exclaimed, in a voice of trans- 
 port : 
 
 '-? Are you then saved ?" 
 " Yes, yes !" vociferated the soldiers, 
 which she now recognized for those Mau- 
 rice had taken out with him—-" our brave
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 115 
 
 Maurice — our noble young Baron Fitz- 
 w alter/' 
 
 Roselma, equally bewildered by all she 
 saw and heard, cast her eyes, anxiously, on 
 her brother, who gave her the following 
 explanation of what had passed : 
 
 " The young Baron having learnt, from 
 Theodore, whom a strict friendship had 
 united to him, the dislike his tenantry had 
 acquired against him, planned the scheme 
 of stealing into their affections by living 
 among them unknown, and endeavoring to 
 conciliate their esteem. When he judged 
 that he had sufficiently gained their love to 
 trust to the strength of it, he sent private 
 directions to Theodore to bring down a 
 party of his soldiers, and spread a report 
 that the young Baron was coming to take 
 possession of his domains. The plan suc- 
 ceeded as he could have wished, and, not 
 till Maurice's party had reached Theodore's
 
 116 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 camp, did they learn that the young Baron 
 himself was their leader ; then the remem- 
 brance of all his kindness and uniform 
 attention to them, with what had passed, 
 immediately before their departure, about 
 Roselma, made them, with warm and loyal 
 hearts, swear obedience to him/' 
 
 During this explanation, every thing had 
 been related to Ernest, who, now led forth, 
 knew not how to face his young lord, or 
 address him he had so unjustly railed at: 
 Maurice, seeing his confusion, embraced 
 him, saying : 
 
 " Oh, my father ! remember your pro- 
 mise !" and looking round at his people, 
 they loudly, and with added warmth, ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " Maurice, the brave Maurice Fitzwalter, 
 shall lead us on : our young Baron deserves 
 the fair Roselma !" 
 
 Maurice seized his trembling mistress's
 
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 V 
 
 -i 
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 ft 
 
 w 
 PS 
 
 w 
 
 CO 
 
 H 
 
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 FROM THE SPANISH. 117 
 
 hand and led to her father, who, embrac- 
 ing them both in a transport of joy, joined 
 their hands, amidst the huzzas of the crowd, 
 pronouncing a father's benediction on 
 them.
 
 118 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 THE WELSH GIRLS. 
 
 It too often happens, that birth and for- 
 tune make the young and thoughtless ima- 
 gine every impertinence pardonable; — thus 
 it was with Frederick Loftus, who, though 
 possessing the noblest and best heart in the 
 world, was so spoiled by unceasing indul- 
 gence, that he thought the world was made 
 for him. An only son, heir to one of the 
 highest Scotch titles, and descended from 
 some of the most illustrious families in 
 Scotland, he had been his mother's idol from 
 his birth; and, though she had not wholly 
 succeeded in filling his mind with all her 
 pride and loftiness of sentiment, yet he had 
 sufficient of it, never to do a premeditatedly 
 mean action, though frequently involved in
 
 TltOM THE SPANISH. 119 
 
 scrapes by his heedless carelessness and 
 volatility. His mother, who was his only 
 remaining parent, found him absolutely 
 unmanageable ; but the grace with which 
 he adorned disobedience, and the wit and 
 vivacity which attended his rebellion, always 
 induced her to pardon him. 
 
 Among other amusements (for business 
 was quite out of the question) the ladies 
 formed a principal occupation with Loftus; 
 and his heart was of such yielding materials, 
 that it was always the slave of one fair face 
 or another, though, fortunately for his free- 
 dom, he generally found himself, after a 
 very short acquaintance, wearied by the 
 uniform insipidity of his flames. He was too 
 difficult, his sisters told him; but he found 
 a life of roving liberty so agreeable to him, 
 that he resolved to continue it as Ions: as 
 possible. A Mr. Jones had lately raised 
 his curiosity, by the casual mention of some
 
 120 TALES ORIGINAL AXD 
 
 cousins he had residing in Carmarthenshire. 
 Wales had a very remote sound, and the 
 idea that a Welsh lady must have something 
 very novel about her, resolved him to invite 
 himself to accompany Jones in the next 
 visit he paid his uncle. One of the young 
 ladies, he found, was a perfect beauty ; this 
 was sufficient to set Loftus in raptures, and 
 he became so bewitched by the idea, that 
 he talked of nothing but the felicity he 
 should enjoy when introduced to this Welsh 
 angel. Loftus had two sisters; the eldest, 
 a mild and diffident character, composed of 
 the softest materials; the youngest, who 
 had just become the wife of the honorable 
 Mr. Tarleton, a girl of such beauty, and, 
 like her brother, of such ungovernable vi- 
 vacity, that her mother was glad to place 
 her under the protection of a husband, who, 
 though the incidents of life, except at a horse- 
 race, rarely roused him from his constitu-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 121 
 
 tional apathy, yet was satisfied with the 
 admiration his wife excited, and careful 
 that, by no great levity, she should disgrace 
 him or herself, in the eyes of the world. 
 Mrs. Tarleton, on her side, charmed with 
 the honorable prefixed to her name, always 
 behaved with a complacency, bordering on 
 kindness, to the man who had given her this 
 distinction ; thus they contrived to pass life 
 away to their mutual satisfaction, and were 
 universally reckoned a very happy couple. 
 Mrs. Loftus, whose national family pride 
 she hoped had descended to all her children, 
 had, in her own mind, already fixed on a 
 bride for her son ; riches, family, rank, and 
 beauty, all conspired to render Lady Ca- 
 tharine Jormie a proper match for him ; 
 and Loftus himself, though not quite satis-r 
 fied with the idea of being dictated to by 
 a mother, on such a subject, felt no disin- 
 clination to the plan; but he was not yet 
 
 i
 
 122 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 twenty, and would tell his mother that he 
 would willingly see all the pretty women in 
 the world, were it in his power, before he 
 tied himself to one. Her son's froward fan- 
 cies annoyed Mrs. Loftus not a little, but 
 none more so than the resolution he ex- 
 pressed to be introduced to Mr. Jones's 
 cousins, who, she discovered, had just 
 enough of fortune, beauty, and family, to 
 render it possible they might become for- 
 midable rivals to her favorite Lady Catha- 
 rine, with the fickle Loftus, for whose 
 reformation she was obliged to trust to time 
 and chance ; as an auxiliary, however, she 
 resolved to find him some employment 
 which should occupy his thoughts a little, 
 and divert them from their usual channel; 
 she accordingly spoke seriously to him of 
 choosing some profession ; with his usual easy 
 sang froid, he declared the choice wholly 
 immaterial to himself— he therefore resolved
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 123 
 
 to refer to able j udges : the ladies were con- 
 sulted ; Ladv Catharine declared for the ar- 
 my, so did her sister Tarleton, in fine, so did 
 all the sex, therefore, he assured his mother, 
 he would be a soldier ; the choice satisfied 
 her, and he soon blazed in a red coat. 
 
 Loftus now passed his time even more to 
 his satisfaction than ever ; his fine figure, 
 aided by his brilliant dress, never failed to 
 excite general attention and admiration, 
 which he was not so blind as to pass over 
 unobserved, or little enough of a coxcomb, to 
 take no pleasure in. Lady Catharine, mean- 
 while, looked on herself as the happy fair 
 destined to hold this fickle mortal in her 
 chains, an idea which, added to the portion 
 of vanity Lady Catharine possessed, the 
 attentions our young soldier paid her, in 
 fact, somewhat authorized; the truth was, 
 he had once heard Jones by chance observe, 
 that Lady Catharine strongly resembled his
 
 124 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 cousin Elizabeth, the very beauty Loftus 
 was dying to see, and he had immediately 
 hastened to assure Lady Catharine that he 
 adored her ; but, with his usual candid un- 
 concern, added, that it was on account of 
 her strong likeness to Miss Elizabeth Tre- 
 vanion ; her ladyship readily conceived, 
 that this likeness was only an excuse for so 
 open a declaration, and smiled celestial 
 satisfaction. 
 
 Although Jones never failed to assure 
 Loftus that he could not undertake to in- 
 troduce him at his uncle's, yet our enter- 
 prizing hero doubted not but he could 
 overcome every objection, and get a tole- 
 rable footing there. 
 
 " First," said Jones to him, when he had 
 been more than usually urgent, " my uncle, 
 who has not stirred from His own fireside for 
 the last twelve years, has an utter aversion 
 to any thing modern and rakish ; secondly.
 
 FftOM THE SPANISH. 125 
 
 his eldest daughter is in so bad a state of 
 health, that the family see no strangers*" 
 
 " God bless me j" exclaimed Mrs. Tarle- 
 ton, who happened to be present, and, by 
 a still greater chance, listening to the con- 
 versation, " sick in Wales ! why, I thought 
 every body there was quite blowzy with 
 health l" 
 
 " Thirdly, and lastly," continued Jones, 
 smiling, " were you, Loftus, to say half the 
 fine speeches to any of my cousins, which 
 you are here so much in the habit of utter- 
 ing, ten to one, but they would really be- 
 lieve you to be in love with them." 
 
 " The very thing, my dear fellow," ex- 
 claimed Loftus, " I am in love with them, 
 every one of them — how many have you — 
 half a dozen ? — Pho ! — and if uncle Treva- 
 nion is so crabbed as to dislike every thing 
 that is gay, why, we can easily get over 
 that, by saying, that I am an unfortunate
 
 126 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 young fellow who have lostevery thing I had 
 in the world, by the wreck of a vessel, or 
 the breaking of my banker, or any other lie 
 you happen to think of." 
 
 " Your appearance," returned Jones, 
 " would suit so ill with that account, that 
 I should not like to hazard so improbable a 
 story." He then took leave, warned by the 
 increasing gravity of Mrs. Loftus's counte- 
 nance, that the subject was far from pleas- 
 ing, and he was so anxious to render himself 
 agreeable to her, that he resolved nothing 
 should induce him to take Loftus to his 
 Uncle's. 
 
 Mrs. Loftus could not be so blind as not 
 to perceive, that an attachment subsisted 
 betwixt her eldest daughter and Jones, al- 
 though she thought it hardly possible that 
 any descendant of hers could so far forget 
 herself, as to encourage a partiality for one 
 in whose family, up to its origin, not a title
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 127 
 
 could be found ; such, however, was too 
 plainly the case, and she was just revolving 
 in her mind the best way of eradicating this 
 disgraceful passion from her daughter's 
 foolish bosom, when the sudden absence of 
 Loftus entirely obliterated every other idea, 
 and filled her with the most alarming fears 
 for her darling's safety. Mrs. Tarleton, 
 whose similar disposition led her to guess 
 whither her eccentric brother had vanished, 
 assured her mother, and weeping sister, 
 that he was only gone on a journey of dis- 
 covery into Carmarthenshire, where, if he 
 was so fortunate as to find out the Miss Tre- 
 vanions, perhaps his friends in London 
 would not hear of him for a month, and, if 
 he did not, perhaps he would become tired 
 of the pursuit, and return in a few days; 
 but this idea was too ridiculous in their eyes 
 even for Loftus to have struck it out, and 
 their anxiety knew no bounds till the fol- 
 lowing letter arrived :
 
 128 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 " I am grieved to death, my dear mother, 
 that I left London so unexpectedly, as it 
 has just struck me, you must have been un- 
 easy at my absence ; but the appearance of 
 a Welsh mail just ready to set off was too 
 strong a temptation for me — you know my 
 way : — my head was full of the dear Welsh 
 girls, and I jumped in, resolved to explore 
 my way to Carmarthenshire : I am now on 
 the road, and only write this while the 
 horses are changing : I hope it will arrive in 
 time to prevent any uneasiness, and in - - - 
 
 the mail waits. 
 
 " Fred. Loftus." 
 
 Mrs. Tarleton was highly diverted with 
 
 this letter, and even her sister could not 
 
 refuse a smile at the original production; 
 
 but Mrs. Loftus felt much distress, and 
 
 even anger, at her son's behaviour, and 
 
 would have immediately written to order 
 
 him home, had any thing like a date or 
 
 direction been to be found about his letter;
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 129 
 
 but, as no such thing graced it, she was 
 obliged to take to herself all the patience 
 she could, and wait till it was his pleasure 
 to appear; but, at the same time, forming 
 in her own mind a most severe reprimand 
 to welcome him with. A week had passed 
 from the receipt of his letter, when the well- 
 known knock announced him ; his sister 
 flew to meet him, while Mrs. Loftus, endea- 
 vouring to run, in her impatience, seated 
 herself, aiming at a grave and displeased 
 air, which however vanished on his entrance. 
 
 " Is this proper behaviour, Frederick?" 
 said she, when she had recollected herself. 
 
 " No— ridiculous !" exclaimed he, throw- 
 ing himself on the sofa, and tossing his hat 
 and gloves away in different directions ; — 
 " trouble totally lost; for you must know, 
 I happened to pass through a village, in 
 which, unluckily, stood a pretty white 
 house ; it took my fancy, and, casting my
 
 130 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 eyes up to one of the windows, as the devil 
 would have it, I beheld the prettiest little 
 face I ever saw, looking out; — such cherry 
 lips ! such teeth !— I immediately fell des- 
 perately in love, and, by the most unfor- 
 tunate chance in the world, totally forgot 
 my errand, and thought of nothing but how 
 to pick acquaintance with my charming 
 cherry-lips: on making enquiries at a 
 public-house in the village, for I halted 
 there, I found the white house was inhabited 
 by a brute of a fellow, with some confound- 
 ed Welsh name, and that the pretty face I 
 had seen belonged to his niece, who led a 
 miserable life, and was a martyr to his 
 caprice and ill-humour. Chivalry entered 
 my head, and cherry-lips entered my heart 
 — I loitered about the house till evening" — 
 " I have no patience with you \" ex- 
 claimed Mrs.Loftus, in atone which plainly 
 evinced the truth of her words.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 131 
 
 " Nor have I with myself/' resumed 
 Loftus, " to think I should be so cursedly 
 outwitted ; well, as evening closed in, I 
 was lucky enough to light upon my angel 
 as she was walking in the garden — I leaped 
 the pails — presented myself before her, and 
 swore I had left London on purpose to free 
 her from the tyranny she laboured under, 
 with a number of other things which she 
 was too much surprised, and frightened, I 
 fancy, to answer : at length, recovering the 
 use of her tongue, she asked me who and 
 what I was: I replied, a duke in disguise, 
 for any thing, you know, I thought would 
 go down with this pretty round-face— she 
 laughed — then tried to look grave and 
 angry, as you do, mother, and said, she 
 should rather suppose I had broken out 
 of some mad-house, adding, that, did I 
 not instantly leave the garden, she should 
 be obliged to call the servants, to take me
 
 132 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 before the magistrate ; she then very coolly 
 walked in, and I, finding she was such a 
 vixen, re-leaped the fence, and, next morn- 
 ing, looking very foolish, got into the mail 
 and drove home, never having, as the stars 
 would have it, once recollected the Miss 
 Trevanions, till I entered this house." 
 
 " And is this all the apology you make 
 for causing me such uneasiness ?" said 
 Mrs. Loftus. 
 
 " Apology !" exclaimed Loftus, " it 
 would be devilish hard to be disappointed 
 and apologise too !" — then starting up — 
 " But w here's Lady Catharine ? I must tell 
 her of my stupidity/' And away he went. 
 
 Loftus found his fair intended at his 
 sisterTarleton's, and he related his story with 
 the same ease to them, as he had to his 
 mother and eldest sister. Though Lady 
 Catharine did not find herself quite so much 
 amused by it as Mrs. Tarleton did, she tried
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 133 
 
 to smile, but the latter, who secretly had no 
 great predilection for the match formed for 
 her brother, spirited him up to another ex- 
 pedition into Wales ; for though, as averse 
 as her mother could be, to his debasing him- 
 self by an union with any of these Welsh girls, 
 yet she thought there could be no very great 
 harm in his flirting a little with them, just 
 to teize his haughty intended, who, had she 
 not been titled, would have been her aver- 
 sion. 
 
 Urged by his sister, and excited by his 
 ever-restless spirit, another month saw Loftus 
 again a traveller; divested of his regi- 
 mentals, and quite incog., snugly lodged on 
 the top of the mail, resolved to search tho- 
 roughly through the county of Carmarthen- 
 shire for these cousins of Jones, and enquire 
 at every town and village he came to, till he 
 found out the situation of the Court, which 
 was the name of Mr. Trevanion's seat. The
 
 134 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 house, fortunately, was near enough to the 
 high-road, to be known to the people of one 
 of the inns where the coach stopped ; Loftus 
 was ready to clasp the first person in his 
 arms who told him that he knew the place* 
 and he resolved to take up his quarters at 
 the very inn where he had received the 
 enchanting intelligence. Though the even- 
 ing was closing in, he would have imme- 
 diately sallied forth to reconnoitre, had he 
 not been informed that it was almost two 
 miles distant across the country ; he there- 
 fore retired to rest, dreamt that Lady Ca- 
 tharine and Elizabeth Trevanion were the 
 same persons, and did not awake till eleven 
 next morning. At length he came in sight 
 of the building, which contained the dam- 
 sels he had felt so much curiosity to see ; it 
 was a large, old-fashioned mansion, but the 
 garden it was placed in, and the beautiful 
 scenery it was surrounded by, made it
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 135 
 
 appear to Loftus one of the most char- 
 mingly gloomy places he had ever seen. 
 
 "Can any retreat be more delicious I"" 
 exclaimed he, in an ecstacy : — " Hail, happy 
 abode of beauty, and innocence ! where 
 virtue finds shelter from the snares of the 
 world, and beauty is secluded from the 
 gaze of the multitude; — where modesty 
 veils herself in retirement, and timidity con- 
 ceals herself from the eye of admiration.'" 
 
 This apostrophe concluded, he set him- 
 self about considering how he should intro- 
 duce himself into the mansion. Not very 
 fertile of imagination, he consulted as many 
 novels, and plays, as he could recollect, 
 and concluded, that to be benighted was the 
 best plan he could adopt, and beg a night's 
 shelter, for were not the Welsh all hospi- 
 table ! and, he almost thanked Jones, for 
 giving him such an adventure, by refusing 
 to introduce him in the ordinary way; to
 
 136 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 be sure, the plan he had struck out was very 
 stale, but novels were probably very little 
 read by the inhabitants of this secluded 
 building, and therefore he was in no dan- 
 ger of being found out. He spent the day 
 in rambling about, laying plots, and play- 
 ing on his flute (his constant companion), 
 with which, extended under the shade of a 
 large tree, he could have fancied himself 
 a despairing shepherd, lamenting the cru- 
 elty of his mistress; and he could, in his 
 present humor, have regretted the kindness 
 he always experienced from the ladies, 
 which gave him no opportunity of making 
 interesting complaints. As evening drew 
 on, he again bent his steps to the Court ; 
 but still the sun was not sunk, and, till dark- 
 ness should excuse his intrusion, he resolv- 
 ed to pay a visit to the church, whose 
 humble spire he saw at a short distance. — 
 Moralising, and scheming alternately, he
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 137 
 
 strolled among the tombs reading their in- 
 scriptions, and comparing their dates. In 
 his round, he came to a burying place 
 handsomely railed in, as is customary with 
 those of the principal families in the country : 
 approaching it, he read the name of Treva- 
 nion on the monument. 
 
 " Aye," thought he, " here lie the grand- 
 fathers, and grandmothers, of the lovely 
 Elizabeth Trevanion, who is so like Lady 
 Catharine ; and here," added he, with a 
 grave air, " one day or other will lie the 
 fair Elizabeth herself, divested of all her 
 beauty." — He then set about reading the 
 inscriptions — " Ann Trevanion, aged 42 ; 
 perhaps her mother. — Edward Trevanion, 
 and Sophia his wife. Those must be her 
 grandfather, and grandmother, and, per- 
 haps, this lucky night will shew me, in the 
 picture gallery, what they once were." Then 
 turning, he beheld a new-made grave in one 
 
 K
 
 138 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 corner, decked, as is the custom in Wales, with 
 flowers, which were now withering ; eagerly 
 bending forward to read the name just en- 
 graved, a kind of apprehension struck him, 
 that he had been looking; at the grave of 
 Elizabeth herself, as he recollected having 
 heard Jones mention that one of the sisters 
 had been long ill— The inscription was 
 " Sophia Trevanion, aged 20" — " That is 
 Elizabeth's eldest sister" — pursued he to 
 himself, " poor girl !— so young ! — Well, 
 grief softens the temper, and opens the 
 heart, I shall be the easier admitted :" — 
 then perceiving that night was almost come 
 on, and that churchyard contemplations 
 did not suit him, he was hastening away, 
 when the appearance of a female, entering 
 the churchyard by another gate, stopped 
 him. The figure was in black, and, but for 
 her movement, and the rustling sound of 
 her steps, she would have passed unseen
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 139 
 
 by him. A female always roused Loftus's 
 attention, and he was provoked, that the 
 increasing gloom prevented him from dis- 
 covering what her features were like. She 
 approached the iron gate he had just quit- 
 ted, and, opening it, went to the flower- 
 decked grave, when kneeling, he perceived 
 she wept. She then placed a basket she held 
 in her hand on the ground, and, taking some 
 roots from it, began to plant them round the 
 grave, interruptingherself frequently, as Lof- 
 tus could perceive, to wipe away the tears 
 which dimmed her eyes. Loftus had been 
 a mute, and fixed spectator of this extraordi- 
 nary scene, when it was interrupted by the 
 approach of another figure, which, going 
 up to the mourner, said, in a voice which 
 plainly indicated that grief and terror were 
 equally predominant in the mind of the 
 speaker : 
 
 " Lord love you, Miss Ellen, do go home, 
 do, Miss Sophy knows nothing of all this,
 
 140 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 and if she did, blessings on her departed 
 soul ! she would not like you to be out in 
 the damp." • 
 
 " It is only for my own satisfaction," 
 returned the young lady. 
 
 " But what would the squire say," re- 
 sumed the other female. — "The Lord bless 
 us, what is that ?" — for Loftus, in trying to 
 approach gently to catch a glimpse of Miss 
 Ellen's features, had moved the branches 
 of an old yew tree which hung over the 
 monument. 
 
 " Probably nothing," returned Ellen — 
 " you are frightened, Betty; come, we will 
 go ;" and after an earnest gaze at the 
 grave of her sister, she quitted the church- 
 yard, with her terrified attendant, leaving 
 Loftus rooted to the spot. 
 
 Never had he felt such a mixture of sen- 
 sations before; — respect— admiration — sur- 
 prise — and awe, all united to render him 
 motionless for some time after the depar-
 
 TROM THE SPANISH. 141 
 
 ture of the mourner, whom he doubted not 
 was one of the Misses Trevanion, though not 
 his much talked of Elizabeth, who was now 
 thrown quite into the back ground by her 
 more interesting sister, whose features he 
 would have given the world to see. He ap- 
 proached the spot she had left, and viewed 
 it with reverence. 
 
 " Are all the Welsh so amiable/' thought 
 he, and was continuing his internal speech, 
 when his foot trod on something round, 
 which, as he kicked away, he found to be one 
 of the roots Ellen had emptied out of the 
 basket; picking it up with respect, he 
 viewed it, muttering some effusion ; then, 
 placing it in his bosom, he strode away to 
 the Court, anxious to see what kind of face 
 the amiable Ellen wore. 
 
 Ringing the bell at the great gates which 
 opened into the front court, he told his 
 tale to the servant who appeared, and who
 
 142 TALES ORIGINAL ANt> 
 
 immediately carried it to his master, that 
 there was a young gentleman at the gate 
 who had lost his way, and seemed tired to 
 death. Mr. Trevanion, who had in fact 
 seen Loftns daring his rambles in the morn- 
 ing, and guessed that this would be the 
 conclusion of them, went himself to the 
 door to invite him in, as the lateness of 
 the hour, the darkness of the night, and 
 the distance to the next village (as Loftus 
 very well knew) precluded the idea of his 
 seeking other shelter. Charmed with this 
 unexpected hospitality, Loftus still dread- 
 ed that Mr. Trevanion would offer him a 
 guide to the village ; therefore he feigned 
 indisposition, and no little fatigue (which, in 
 fact, his dusty clothes and dishevelled hair 
 corroborated well enough), at the same 
 time hinting at an old sprain in his knee, 
 which his exercise that day had done no 
 good to; so that the good-natured and
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 143 
 
 unsuspicious Mr. Trevanion thought it 
 would be cruel to turn a man from his door 
 in such a situation. After a few inter- 
 changes of civility, in which Mr. Trevanion 
 discovered that his unknown visitor was a 
 gentleman of no inconsiderable polish, he 
 led him into a parlor (of such dimensions 
 that Loftus looked round with astonish- 
 ment), where sat Mr. Trevanion's sister, and 
 his two daughters, all in deep mourning. 
 The former (whom Loftus recollected hav- 
 ing often heard Jones mention as a rare in- 
 stance of perfect good nature in an old 
 maid) was a most antiquated figure, dressed 
 in the style of ages past, yet she bore the 
 traces of beauty in her venerable counte- 
 nance, and dignity and grace marked all 
 her actions. The two young ladies sat by 
 themselves, at work, at a little table, and 
 remained silently attentive to their occupa- 
 tion, without appearing to think themselves
 
 144 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 at all interested in what was passing. In the 
 most lovely of the two, Loftus immediately 
 recognised Elizabeth, by her resemblance 
 to Lady Catharine, and by her his eyes and 
 heart were taken prisoners so powerfully, 
 that he forgot how he had adored her sister, 
 Ellen, a few hours before, in the church* 
 yard. 
 
 Having gathered sufficient from Jones, at 
 different times, to make him judge a little 
 of the dispositions of his host, and hostess, 
 Loftus adapted his discourse so judiciously 
 to them, and was at all times so eminently 
 master of the art of pleasing, that they 
 were charmed with their unknown guest, 
 and could not help rejoicing that they had 
 admitted him, though a stranger. As the 
 young ladies did not attempt joining in the 
 conversation, but kept their eyes most per- 
 severingly on their work, poor Loftus could 
 not think of a plausible reason for addressing
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 145 
 
 them; and he, therefore, could only endeavor 
 to lead the conversation to such topics as he 
 imagined they could join in, which indeed 
 were few, as he had heard Jones say, they had 
 never been twenty miles from home, and 
 knew not one of the fashionable accom- 
 plishments of the day ; Mr. Trevanion's 
 whole care having been, to render his 
 daughters as unlike the present race of 
 young females as possible. However, not- 
 withstanding this reserve, which was as 
 novel as incomprehensible to Loftus, the 
 time passed agreeably enough till supper 
 was announced, at which, as the sisters 
 were placed opposite to him, he had a bet- 
 ter opportunity of observing them, than he 
 had before : Elizabeth's likeness to Lady 
 Catharine was indeed remarkable ; and the 
 only dissimilarity he could observe was, that 
 in the Welsh girl's blue and melting eye, 
 only the softest expression was visible, while
 
 146 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 keen satire, and haughty triumph blazed in 
 Lady Catharine's: their figures were equally 
 beautiful, but Loftus began to doubt, whe- 
 ther, had Elizabeth been adorned by all 
 the advantages of dress, she would not have 
 eclipsed her rival. 
 
 The conversation was wholly supported 
 by Mr. Trevanion, his sister, and Loftus ; 
 dejection, as well as timidity appearing to 
 seal the lips of the young ladies. 
 
 " You see a melancholy groop," said the 
 aunt, addressing Loftus; " we have lately 
 lost a dear companion ; and one from our 
 small circle is severely missed, especially 
 when the remembrance that the loss is for 
 ever, accompanies it." 
 
 These words, and the tone, and feeling, 
 they were pronounced in, affected Loftus 
 extremely; he glanced his eyes round, and 
 saw the sisters' faces bathed in tears, while 
 Mr. Trevanion leaned his head on his hand
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 14? 
 
 to conceal his emotion. This was such a 
 novel scene to Loftus, that he could not 
 recall to his mind what was proper to be 
 said or done; his embarrassed countenance, 
 however, pleased the family more than any 
 words would, as theirs was not a grief forms 
 could alleviate, or civility console. Soon 
 afterwards he was conducted to his room, 
 Mr. Trevanion having told him, that next 
 day he should be conducted to the village 
 after breakfast. 
 
 His sleeping, as well as waking thoughts 
 were occupied by the female Trevanions, 
 and now, in the solitude of night, the scene 
 in the churchyard entered his mind, and 
 he blamed himself for not having attended 
 more to the interesting Ellen, promising 
 himself different behaviour to-morrow. He 
 took care to be up before the breakfast 
 hour, that he might find an opportunity of 
 entertaining them alone, and hearing whc-
 
 I4B TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 ther their understandings were as perfect 
 as their forms ; but the breakfast- room was 
 empty, and he strolled out on the lawn 
 before it: the garden, though spacious, 
 was soon traversed, for, at every turn, he 
 hoped to meet the sisters, and he returned 
 to the lawn, wondering where they had con- 
 cealed themselves, for that they were early 
 risers he had often heard Jones say ; at last 
 he lighted upon a gardener who was ar- 
 ranging some flower-pots round the win- 
 dows, and, anxious to gain some informa- 
 tion, he began to enter into conversation 
 with him ; however, he only learnt that the 
 young ladies had left the garden some time 
 for a walk on the hills. As he was just set- 
 ting out again in pursuit of them, he was 
 joined by Mr. Trevanion, with one hanging 
 on each arm, their countenances animated 
 by air and exercise, and the cheerfulness of 
 a fine morning having dispersed the dejec-
 
 TROM THE SPANISH. 149 
 
 tion which had before clouded them. Eli- 
 zabeth, more lovely than ever, again absorb- 
 ed Loftus, and he now boldly asserted to 
 himself, that Lady Catharine was nothing 
 to her. 
 
 " We saw you from the top of the adjoin- 
 ing mountain," said Mr. Trevanion, addres- 
 sing Loftus, " and hastened to meet you." 
 " You are early, sir," returned Loftus. 
 " Yes, we generally pay our respects to 
 the rising sun from the top of some of the 
 neighbouring hills." 
 
 While Loftus was preparing a compli- 
 ment to the young ladies on their blooming 
 looks, they had vanished into the house, 
 and, before he could recover from his vexa- 
 tion at this fresh disappointment, Mr. Tre- 
 vanion, whom he could have wished in the 
 moon, proposed another stroll round the gar- 
 den; here he was bewildered by the names 
 and properties of flowers and plants which he
 
 150 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 had never heard of; his thoughts occupied in 
 revolving the best method of gaining a word 
 from the angelic Elizabeth, and letting her 
 know his adoration of her ; his countenance 
 wore the appearance of deep attention, and 
 Mr. Trevanion thought the question of 
 " Was he fond of horticulture?" scarcely 
 necessary. Loftus boldly professed himself 
 a doting admirer of the art, and, when Mr. 
 Trevanion urged a few casual questions to 
 him on the subject, his hesitating manner, 
 and confused countenance, only passed with 
 his unsupecting host for becoming diffidence 
 of his own learning. At length the break- 
 fast bell relieved Loftus from this thraldom, 
 and he followed to the parlor, putting up 
 his prayers to every saint in the calendar, 
 to be spared another tete-a-tete with the old 
 man. 
 
 The three ladies were at the breakfast- 
 table, but Loftus was still consigned to the
 
 TROM THE SPANISH. 151 
 
 conversation of the elders, for, notwithstand- 
 ing the improvement in their looks, as little 
 escaped the sifters' lips this morning, as did 
 last night, and Loftus began to feel that too 
 much reserve might be quite as disagreable 
 as too much boldness. Breakfast passed, 
 and, as he could think of no excuse for a 
 longer stay, he was forced to take leave, 
 after returning the warmest thanks to Mr. 
 Trevanion and his sister for their hospi- 
 tality; and also casting many a tender 
 glance at the fair Elizabeth, whose repeated 
 blushes evinced they were not lost on her; 
 for can a beautiful woman be blind to the 
 effects of her charms, though reared even in 
 the bosoms of woods ? 
 
 In vain had Loftus given out that he 
 should remain some days in the neighbour- 
 hood ; neither Mr. Trevanion, nor his good- 
 natured and amiable sister, took the hint, 
 and he left the Court without any invitation 
 to return to it. He once thought of disco-
 
 152 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 vering himself to be the friend of their ne- 
 phew Jones, but, not knowing how that 
 gentleman might have spoken of him, he 
 thought it better to remain wholly incog. 
 
 When he reached the public-house he had 
 lodged at, he found the host of it not a little 
 surprised and alarmed at his absence, for 
 travelling in, and sometimes outside, the 
 coach, with only a small portmanteau, and 
 no attendant, and taking the fair of the 
 house as he met with it, had given the people 
 of the inn no very dignified opinion of his 
 rank; a travelling musician, or poor artist, 
 for his pencil as well as flute always accom- 
 panied him, was the highest station they had 
 assigned him. Having explained the cause 
 of his absence, as having lost his way, and 
 how hospitably he had been received at the 
 Court, — 
 
 "Aye," exclaimed the host, with a cunning 
 wink, ? but did you see the young ladies?' 3 
 
 "Yes, I did."
 
 PROM THE SPANISH. 153 
 
 * c There, now," continued the man, "there, 
 now, is a fine opening for a young fellow, 
 with a decent face/' 
 
 " But how do such girls contrive to pass 
 their time in such a lonely place?" 
 
 " Oh, very well, for the matter of that, I 
 fancy ; perhaps not so well now, but before 
 Miss Sophy died, they were as merry as the 
 day was long. Not a winter evening passed, 
 but the harp was brought into the great hall, 
 and the family set to dancing: the squire 
 and madam would sit by and look on, I 
 warrant, as happy as any one/' 
 
 The idea of a family dancing to the sounds 
 of a Welsh harp in a large ancient hall, had 
 something so novel in it to Loftus, that he 
 longed to be present at such a scene; he 
 figured to himself the dignified and reverend 
 figures of Mr. Trevanion and his sister, view- 
 ing the gay groupe before them ; a venerable 
 harper, with a flowing beaid, in a corner, 
 
 L
 
 154 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 leaning over his harp, and the lovely figure 
 of Elizabeth gliding along, like an angel of 
 light, in these gloomy halls : thrown into an 
 ecstacy by his own fancies, he hastily strode 
 from the inn, and, pursuing the route of a 
 green lane he had entered, at length found 
 himself conducted to the pales of the very 
 garden he had so hastily paraded in the 
 morning. The place was delightful for a 
 lover in a contemplative mood, but he had 
 not paused a moment, ere the sound of voices 
 roused him from his reverie, and made him 
 all ear : in one he thought he recognised the 
 plaintive tones of Elizabeth ; this was enough 
 to make him leap the fence, which was for- 
 tunately not very high, and, gently pushing 
 aside the intervening branches, he beheld his 
 heart's goddess seated with a young female, 
 whom he had never seen, on a bank just 
 opposite to him. He had now a full oppor- 
 tunity of feasting his eyes with the beauties
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 155 
 
 of Elizabeth's countenance, which that of 
 her companion was fully calculated to show 
 to advantage, having nothing but youth to 
 recommend it, but it is said " there is no 
 fifteen without a charm." The stranger held 
 a book in her hand, from which she had 
 apparently been reading aloud, and, when 
 Loftus first began to listen, she was saying, 
 that the greatest pleasure this world could 
 afford, must be to find a tender sympathy, 
 and unison of feelings in a friend : with eager 
 earnestness, and wide-opened eyes, Loftus 
 waited to hear what answer Elizabeth would 
 make to this fine-spun nonsense, and, with 
 some dismay, heard her say, with a sigh : 
 
 " True, my dear Miss Lloyd, but don't 
 you think that there may really be such 
 characters as this Philander ?" 
 
 " I fear not," returned Miss Lloyd, re- 
 echoing her sigh, " for where do you see 
 such delicacy of sentiment — such unobtru-
 
 156 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 sive love ? why, my dear, you may even see 
 instances of the great differences in dispo- 
 sitions even in your own family — your father 
 and aunt now — " 
 
 " You know, my dear Ann," interrupted 
 Elizabeth, gently taking her hand, " that 
 my father and aunt are sacred subjects." 
 
 " True, my sweet friend," replied the 
 young lady, " but there was your sister 
 Sophy — but, dear lost angel, we will not 
 speak of her — but I was only going to 
 remark" — 
 
 " Pray, pray," interrupted Elizabeth, 
 " no more on that subject." 
 
 "Well, she was too perfect for this world," 
 returned Miss Lloyd, casting up her eyes; 
 " but then there is your sister Ellen — not- 
 withstanding her good sense, she wants de- 
 licacy ; she is certainly a charming girl, but 
 think, what sentiment would she show a 
 lover? plain downright 'yes/ or ' no/ as
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 157 
 
 she happened to like or dislike him, would 
 be all she would say ; but, however, she is 
 a charming girl." 
 
 Miss Lloyd then rose, saying, she must 
 return home ; Elizabeth saw her to the gate, 
 and then, returning to the bank, sat down, 
 as if in deep thought, while Loftus, who had 
 with difficulty restrained his laughter, dur- 
 ing this conversation, and who felt not a 
 little disappointed at the share Elizabeth 
 had borne in it, judged that any nonsense 
 would delight her, and suffice for an intro- 
 duction. Unable, and unaccustomed, to 
 resist the impulse of the moment, he burst 
 from among the shrubs, and, throwing 
 himself at her feet, exclaimed, in a most 
 passionate tone, that he had at last found 
 the blissful opportunity he had so long 
 sought. While he spoke, Elizabeth started 
 up, and trembling, and listening, stood un- 
 determined what to do; having imraedir
 
 158 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 ately recognised him for the stranger who 
 had slept at the Court the preceding evening. 
 At length, Loftus having paused for breath, 
 and for matter, she enquired, in a faltering 
 voice, why he was there again; he replied, 
 that adoration of her had dragged him from 
 his home; then, tagging together all the 
 love-speeches he could recollect, made up 
 such an assemblage of despair, cruelty, 
 death, and constancy, that the soft-hearted 
 Elizabeth dissolved into tears, desiring to 
 know what he wished her to do. This ques- 
 tion puzzled him infinitely, not having an 
 idea but that his adoration would meet with 
 the same fate here, it had at his pretty 
 cherry-lipped damsel's; more surprised than 
 pleased at her unexpected gentleness, he 
 resumed his passionate tone, though with 
 much less ardor, and intreated her to meet 
 him there again next morning, and maintain 
 the most inviolable secrecy meanwhile; this
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 159 
 
 latter part perplexed Elizabeth extremely, 
 she had never kept a secret from her sister 
 in her life ; however, at length, she gave the 
 requested promise, and Loftus, half laugh- 
 ing, half vexed, vanished among the shrubs. 
 His admiration of the lovely Elizabeth had 
 considerably abated since this last interview, 
 yet the novelty of the adventure, and the 
 beauty of his heroine, still drew him on ; but 
 he resolved, after many contests in his whim- 
 sical brain, if she were weak enough to con- 
 tinue the affair, to discover himself, unfold 
 to her the truth of it having been merely a 
 frolic, and warn her against giving a too 
 ready ear to tales told by young men 
 in despair, whom either her beauty or for- 
 tune might tempt to try their abilities in 
 that line. He then began to think of Ellen, 
 who yet had been scarcely looked at. 
 
 " It is very odd," thought he, " tha£ I 
 should so continually forget her; she is
 
 160 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 certainly very different from her sister, j'et 
 why should she be so ? their education— 
 their pursuits have been the same — her be- 
 haviour, therefore, would probably be the 
 same." Then pulling the hitherto-neglected 
 root from his pocket, he viewed it with 
 respect, as he recollected the scene in the 
 churchyard, and resolved in his own mind 
 to take the earliest opportunity of becoming 
 better acquainted with the fair mourner to 
 whom it had belonged. 
 
 Elizabeth, on her side, when left by her 
 knight, hastened to her apartment, where, 
 as usual with her, the knowledge of what 
 she ought to have done, rushed on her mind 
 in full force, and a flood of tears were offered 
 as an atonement for her weak behaviour; 
 yet she could not make up her mind to con- 
 fide the secret to her sister, although she 
 firmly resolved not to fulfil her imprudent 
 engagement for the next day; not that she
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. l6l 
 
 in the least doubted the truth of her unfor- 
 tunate lover's story, for she had often read of 
 similar adventures, but she felt there was an 
 impropriety in thus meeting a stranger 
 alone, and unknown to her friends. At 
 tea, her added gravity struck her father and 
 aunt, — a head-ache, however, satisfied their 
 enquiries; but the attentive love of her 
 sister was not so easily satisfied, and, on 
 leaving the parlour with her, Ellen proposed 
 a walk in the shrubbery, which skirted the 
 garden, and where Loftus, who had passed 
 his time hitherto in strolling about the 
 Court, was waiting for an opportunity of 
 seeing his novelty Ellen. The figures of the 
 sisters approaching, arm in arm, made his 
 heart dance; again he became a listener, 
 and heard the following conversation. 
 
 " No, no," Ellen was saying, " do not de- 
 ceive me — I have watched you too closely — 
 Tell me what has happened, Elizabeth."
 
 162 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 " I dare not/' returned her sister, " I have 
 done wrong ; you will think me foolish: — you 
 will blame me, I know." 
 
 " But, perhaps I can assist you out of 
 some difficulty — tell me." — 
 
 " Well then — I think you can. Do you 
 remember the stranger who slept here last 
 night r 
 
 " Certainly/* 
 
 " Well, he— he was here again to-day." 
 
 " Was he ? I did not see him/' 
 
 " No ; he rushed from among the shrubs 
 as I was sitting, just before tea, by myself/' 
 
 " Say no more, dear Elizabeth," exclaim- 
 ed Ellen, smiling, " he is some ridiculous 
 impostor, with as much poverty, probably, 
 as impudence." 
 
 " No, indeed, Ellen," said Elizabeth, ea- 
 gerly, " his words were too moving not to 
 be true." 
 
 Here Ellen laughed outright, exclaiming,
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. l6S 
 
 " He is some strolling actor, depend upon 
 it, and, had you but asked him his name, 
 would have told you it was Woodley, or 
 Beverley. I dare say, my dear, he looked 
 very foolish when you ordered him to quit 
 the garden." 
 
 " Ah, Ellen !" said the humbled Eliza- 
 beth, blushing deeply, " I am ashamed to 
 
 say—" 
 
 "What?" enquired Ellen, somewhat 
 alarmed. 
 
 " I — I — I did say — but I am the weakest 
 of creatures — I promised to— to meet him 
 again." 
 
 Good God !" exclaimed Ellen, stopping- 
 short, *' could you forget yourself so far ? 
 could you forget your name, your family, 
 and the generous and constant Edmond 
 Howell, who is now risking his life in the 
 defence of his country, to render himself 
 worthy of you ?"
 
 164 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 This last remonstrance, and the name of 
 a man who, in fact, possessed her heart, 
 recalled the wavering Elizabeth to a proper 
 sense of her duty, and, shedding a torrent 
 of tears, she besought her sister to spare her, 
 and keep her weakness secret : Ellen, after 
 a few more reproofs, which surprise seemed 
 to wrest from her, rather than the pleasure 
 of finding fault, promised to do so; the 
 sisters turned homeward, and the garden 
 gate soon shut them from Loftus's fixed 
 eyes. 
 
 This last conversation did the business; 
 and Loftus fell deeply in love with Ellen. 
 
 •* Besides," ruminated he, " this ge- 
 nerous and constant Edmond Howell, who- 
 ever he is, must not be wronged; I may be 
 doing irreparable mischief, only for amuse- 
 ment ; — Ellen must be my future star/' 
 
 But how to deal with this Ellen he knew 
 not; the same behaviour that he had used to
 
 PROM THE SPANISH. 165 
 
 Elizabeth evidently would not succeed, and, 
 unfortunately, be could think of no other 
 which suited him ; but, had not all the wo- 
 men he had ever conversed with, shown an 
 inclination for coquetry ? was it not inhe- 
 rent in them, and why should Ellen be 
 different? Many could advise well, yet be- 
 have very weakly when called upon to act 
 for themselves. Ellen, though not so regu- 
 larly beautiful as her sister, possessed fine 
 features, had brilliant eyes, and a figure 
 which promised to be lovely ; — she was not 
 sixteen, therefore, probably, could not be 
 proof against flattery, well applied; most 
 likely too she thought herself angelic, or 
 would, when reminded of it ; at all events, 
 he resolved to try what effects a discovery of 
 his passion would have, and, as a little ro- 
 mance must be mixed up with it, or it 
 would not suit Loltus, he determined to
 
 166 TAlES ORIGINAL AN1) 
 
 give her a serenade. A serenade ought, in- 
 deed, to have words, and be sung; but how 
 could he continue this with a flute? he was 
 terribly puzzled ; at length, he fortunately 
 remembered, that he had frequently read 
 of Don Carlos, Don Ferdinand, and fifty 
 other Dons, having preluded with their 
 instrument, and then sung their verses unac- 
 companied. This idea charmed him, and, 
 as his voice had always been admired, he 
 doubted not but he should succeed : the 
 idea of poetry, however, was a fresh diffi- 
 culty to him — he had never written a line 
 of verse in his life; however, as he was 
 loth such a charming plan should be 
 thwarted for want of a little metre, after 
 much study and vexation, he produced the 
 following lines, which, he judged, would 
 pass extremely well where poetry, probably, 
 was a novelty :
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. l6'7 
 
 <( Away, ye ling' ring shades of night, 
 And yield to Sol's resplendent light; 
 Bring forth the blushing new-drcss'd dawn, 
 For then, upon the flow'ry lawn, 
 Fair Ellen tends her opening flowers, 
 Refreshing them with genial showers." 
 
 He had wished to introduce something 
 of the Muses, and the Welsh harp, and 
 Apollo's lyre, but could not contrive to 
 make them rhyme, therefore, recollecting 
 the flower-pots which he found the gardener 
 arranging, he contented himself with talk- 
 ing about them. That night, he meant, 
 should witness his triumph in the serenading 
 way, but vain were his endeavours to guess 
 which was his goddess's window ; more and 
 more impatient as the evening closed in, he, 
 at last, could curb his restless spirit no 
 longer, and, venturing through the gate 
 which opened from the shrubbery, he found 
 himself in the garden, and supposing, justly,
 
 168 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 that at this time the family would, probably, 
 be in the front of the house, he approached 
 to reconnoitre. Not a leaf moved — not a 
 sound met his ears ; the shutters of most of 
 the windows were closed for the night, 
 though the sultry rays of the sun still tinged 
 the tops of the mountains. Loftus moved 
 gently on to the window nearest him — it was 
 open ; he peeped in, and beheld a room, 
 not, indeed, so vast as those he had been in, 
 but furnished much more to his taste. The 
 principal object in it was a Welsh harp, 
 which stood near a small desk, with an open 
 music-book on it, as if but just left; some 
 handsome shelves held a number of books, 
 tolerably bound, but apparently much 
 used. 
 
 " Where have I got to now?" thought 
 he, as he ventured one step into the room, 
 through the window which opened from 
 the floor, " this must be the sisters* apart-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. l69 
 
 ment." On a table, near the window, lay 
 a lage folio open ; " this must be a bible," 
 thought he, and was casting a cursory look 
 at it, when a painting on one of the leaves 
 arrested his attention. Curiosity gave an- 
 other look, and he saw that it was the sketch 
 of a wall-flower; he turned over the leaves, 
 and found a highly-finished flower on each, 
 with the botanical description written at the 
 bottom, in a fair hand, which he longed to 
 know belonged to Ellen ; in the hope of 
 clearing it up, he looked at the first page, 
 and, to his joy, saw the name Eleanor Jane 
 Trevanion traced by the same hand : " So 
 her name is Eleanor Jane/' ruminated he, 
 as he viewed the even characters; " cer- 
 tainly, the Welsh are the most modest people 
 on earth! I have been acquainted with Jones 
 more than two years, and in company twice 
 with Ellen herself, and never even heard 
 music and drawing mentioned : in less than 
 
 M
 
 170 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 half that time all Lady Catharine's accom- 
 plishments would have been displayed/' 
 
 Loftus doated on every thing he saw, and, 
 too much engaged to remember the possi- 
 bility of an interruption, was viewing every 
 thing with inquisitive eyes, when a light step 
 in the passage allowed him but just time to 
 conceal himself behind the shrubs, close to 
 the window, when the door opened, and 
 Ellen herself appeared ; she had a parcel of 
 flowers in her lap, which she began to dis- 
 pose in a vase which stood on a table. This 
 was an unhoped-for opportunity of speaking 
 to her, but the desire of observing her a little 
 longer, and the hope that she would sit down 
 to her instrument, still kept him to his 
 hiding-place, while she arranged her flowers, 
 during which, she sighed frequently. 
 
 " Oh!" thought Loftus, " those are the 
 sighs of sisterly affection ; she thinks of the 
 flowers which adorn her sister's grave."
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 171 
 
 He was still observing her, when, sud- 
 denly laying down the rest of the flowers, 
 she stepped out on the gravel-walk before 
 the window, close to which Loftus lay per* 
 due, and, listening attentively for a moment, 
 walked to the gate which opened into the 
 shrubbery, where, hastily looking round, 
 while Loftus hardly dared to breathe, mov- 
 ed some branches aside, and, raising a tile 
 which laid on the ground, took from under 
 it a letter, and then, in much apparent con- 
 fusion, retraced her steps, and, entering the 
 room, threw herself into a chair, and sighed 
 deeply. Loftus, as may well be imagined, 
 was an astonished and mortified spectator 
 of this scene. A secret correspondence ! — 
 an unknown lover! She drew forth her 
 letter, after a pause, and devoured the con- 
 tents, while our hero, though every look 
 discovered some new charm, yet felt his 
 admiration rapidly decreasing.
 
 172 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 " She is certainly very beautiful," men- 
 tally ejaculated he, as she now and then 
 threw back the ringlets which strayed over 
 her face: " how mortifying, that her mind 
 does not correspond with her lovely per- 
 son!" 
 
 Then he had at last turned poet, buried 
 himself in the heart of Wales, and planned 
 a serenade, for one whose heart was already 
 another's. He longed to catch a sight of 
 even the hand-writing, if not the contents, 
 of this cherished epistle, but it was impos- 
 sible; Ellen was not two minutes perusing 
 it, and, immediately returning it into her 
 bosom, wiped a tear which strayed down 
 her cheek, and vanished. Loftus remained 
 motionless, making the most sorrowful re- 
 flections; at length, stealing from his hiding- 
 place, he went back to the gate, and, frown- 
 ing at the guilty tile, hurried to his public- 
 house, resolved to set off next morning for
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 173 
 
 London ; but a few hours reflection made 
 him change his mind. 
 
 " It is some practised seducer," rumi- 
 nated he, as he paced before the inn door ; 
 " I will postpone my journey, and visit the 
 tile myself; I should be a wretch to let this 
 innocent child of nature become the prey of 
 a designing wretch, who, perhaps, knows 
 not half her worth, but merely looks to the 
 possession of her fortune." And away he 
 went again to the Court, while the people 
 at the ale-house settled that their guest \v r as 
 either deranged in his intellects, or crossed 
 in love, and locked their doors very con- 
 tentedly, at their usual hour of rest, sup- 
 posing that they should not see him again 
 till next morning. 
 
 It was past midnight when Loftus again 
 entered the garden by the shrubbery gate ; 
 he hurried to the concealed tile, raised it, 
 and saw a letter under it: this he seized,
 
 174 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 and, by the mellow rays of a fine autumnal 
 moon, read the following words, traced in 
 the same hand as that in Ellen's botanical 
 book: 
 
 " I have found your letter, and, as you 
 say you know not how soon you may leave 
 the country, I hasten to answer it. If my 
 power equalled my wish to serve you, po- 
 verty should never distress either you, or 
 your husband/' Here Loftus started — 
 " Then after all, this was not to a lover — 
 but why all this secrecy ? It must be about 
 a lover:" and Loftus proceeded: "The very 
 small present I enclosed last letter, you say 
 infinitely too much about: but this private 
 method of corresponding afflicts me, my 
 dear Charlotte ; I am forced to tell my 
 sister so many untruths, — and feel so myste- 
 rious, and blush when I take your letters, as 
 if I were committing a crime; indeed— in- 
 deed, Charlotte, I cannot continue it: you
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 175 
 
 are surely safe under a husband's protection ; 
 not twenty angry uncles, I should think, 
 could take you from it ; but you, and Mr. 
 Ferrars know best; in case you should 
 again have recourse to it, I will sometimes 
 
 visit our friendly tile.- Adieu, dearest 
 
 friend ; that every thing may prosper with 
 you, is the ardent prayer of your most af- 
 fectionate, and faithful 
 
 E. J. Trevanion." 
 
 Loftus refolded, and kissed the letter, 
 then looking at the direction, saw it was 
 " To Mr. Edward Ferrars." 
 
 " That is my Ellen's chosen friend," said 
 he, " the name of Ferrars shall ever be dear 
 tome;" he then proceeded, in his usual 
 rapturous way, to make a vow (to which 
 he called the moon, stars, and clouds to 
 witness), that Ellen Trevanion should be the 
 possessor of his heart, till he met with one 
 more deserving, or more truly virtuous, and
 
 176 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 amiable. Lady Catharine— his mother— 
 the world-— his family— all were forgotten; 
 and Ellen, and a cottage were the only 
 images in his mind. 
 
 Seriously desirous (that is, as seriously as 
 his whimsical brain would allow him) to 
 render himself agreable to Ellen, he re- 
 jected all his former wild plans, and resolv- 
 ed to fly back to London, and positively 
 force Jones to introduce him properly at 
 the Court, not intending to make his fur- 
 tive visit there a secret. The people of the 
 inn were not sorry to get rid of their restless 
 guest, and, with as much speed as he came 
 down, he hurried back to London, to the 
 joy of his mother, who wondered where her 
 son had buried himself; as well as Lady 
 Catharine, who began to fancy the parties 
 very dull without him. With his usual can- 
 dor, Loftus related to his mother and sisters 
 what had passed during his excursion — de-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 177 
 
 clared that he doated on Ellen Trevanion, 
 and meant to pay his addresses to her; — 
 but he could gain nothing from Jones, on 
 the subject of another visit, but evasive an- 
 swers, and, when urged closely, cold nega- 
 tives ; for that gentleman knew the plans 
 Mrs. Loftus had laid with regard to her son, 
 as well as the pride which formed a strik- 
 ing feature in that lady's character: he 
 also knew the innocent artlessness of his 
 cousin's disposition too well, not to dread 
 the effect such speeches and attentions, as 
 Loftus would probably besiege them with, 
 would have, when aided by an appearance 
 so prepossessing, and manners so captivat- 
 ing ; he was also acquainted with the soft- 
 ness of Loftus's heart, when attacked by 
 superior beauty, and virtue, and he feared 
 that both, so eminently combining as in the 
 sisters, would raise a real flame in the bo- 
 som of his lively friend, which neither pride, 
 nor prudence, could extinguish; — however,
 
 178 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 the known fickleness and volatility of Lof- 
 tus, led his friend to hope, that he would 
 soon forget the transient impression Ellen 
 had made on his mind ; and the renewed 
 attentions he paid Lady Catharine, and the 
 warm admiration he expressed for every 
 other beauty who came in his way, seemed 
 to confirm his hopes. Here, however, Jones 
 was mistaken, for Ellen's artless beauties, 
 and unassuming virtues, had deeply im- 
 pressed themselves on Loftus's heart; but 
 he wished to try, whether it was only one 
 of his usual love-fits, or really a flame that 
 bade defiance to time, and absence; for the 
 idea of being seriously in love appeared so 
 very new to Loftus, that he could hardly 
 persuade himself it would ever come to 
 pass ; though his mind was so occupied by 
 the idea of all that Ellen had been engaged 
 in during his visit in Wales, that he be- 
 gan to think his last hour of liberty was 
 come.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 179 
 
 One day, when Loftus happened to be 
 attending on Lady Catharine in the park, 
 with a party, amongst whom was Mr. Tarle- 
 ton, that gentleman's eye happened to fix 
 on a melancholy object : 
 
 " Hang that fellow," he exclaimed, turn- 
 ing away with disgust ; " if it is not too 
 bad such scarecrows should be allowed to 
 infest the paths ?" 
 
 Loftus followed the direction of his bro- 
 ther-in-law's eyes, and beheld a young man 
 seated on one of the benches, apparently 
 immersed in thought, and unconscious 
 even of the approach of the gay party his 
 appearance had so annoyed. The look of 
 dejection, and the pallid hue which cloud- 
 ed the finest features in the world, fixed 
 Loftus's attention ; but, while he was view- 
 ing him, Mr. Tarleton had besought the 
 party to change their route, and the young 
 man himself had risen, and was walking
 
 180 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 slowly away. Loftus felt inclined to ad- 
 dress him, but it was impracticable, and he 
 was just giving it up, when the stranger, 
 in taking out his handkerchief, drew a let- 
 ter from his pocket, which fell on the 
 ground. This offered Loftus a means of 
 introduction, and he hastened to pick it 
 up, and return it to the owner; when 
 glancing his eyes on the direction, he be- 
 held — " To Edward Ferrars, esq." he started 
 at the sight, but no time was to be lost in 
 making up his mind. The party he had 
 left were calling to him, Mr. Ferrars was 
 going; he, therefore, hastened after the 
 stranger, presented him the letter, told him 
 he believed he had dropped it ; and then 
 bowing, retired to his own party, who were 
 extremely diverted with the civility be- 
 stowed by him on such an object : but 
 Loftus, enraptured with the hope that he 
 might now be of service to a friend of El-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 181 
 
 Jen's (for lie doubted not, but this was the 
 husband of her secret correspondent), heed- 
 ed not their remarks, but, privately order- 
 ing his servant to watch where Ferrars went, 
 left the park with a light heart, and gay 
 countenance. 
 
 Next day Loftus hastened to the house 
 specified by his servant as the gentleman's 
 lodging : Mr. Ferrars he found was not at 
 home ; but, as Mrs. Ferrars was, he desired 
 to speak to her, and was ushered into a 
 parlor where she sat at work. Raising her 
 head to see who was her unexpected visitor, 
 she displayed, to Loftus's admiring eyes, 
 the very same pretty face, and cherry lips, 
 which had attracted him over a wall in his 
 first expedition into Wales. 
 
 " Good God !" exclaimed Mrs. Ferrars, 
 on recognising him for the lunatic who had 
 accosted her so wildly in her uncle's gar- 
 den, and retreating towards the bell: " Is 
 your business with me sir ?"
 
 182 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 " My appearance has alarmed you, I see, 
 madam," returned Loftus, recollecting him- 
 self after a pause of surprise; " and, in- 
 deed, the circumstances under which we 
 first met, fully authorise the terror you 
 now feel ; but my errand here, I trust, 
 will insure my pardon, from a lady, I was 
 once mad enough to address so rudely, 
 but whom I little expected to intrude upon 
 now." The words, the manner of Loftus, 
 were calculated to inspire confidence, and 
 Mrs. Ferrars began to recover herself; 
 when, proceeding, he said : " I have the 
 honor to know a friend of yours, Miss 
 Ellen Trevanion." 
 
 " Ellen Trevanion !" repeated Mrs. Fer- 
 rars with animation. 
 
 " She charged me to deliver this to you," 
 continued Loftus, placing a pocket-book 
 on the table, and then, with his usual swift- 
 ness of motion, for fear of questions, bowed,
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 183 
 
 and vanished, before Mrs. Ferrars could 
 recover from her surprise, and, as he hastily 
 strode along the streets, he triumphed in 
 the expedient he had hit on, of forcing 
 pecuniary aid on them. 
 
 When Mrs. Ferrars opened the pocket- 
 book, in anxious hopes of finding a letter 
 from Ellen, she was astonished to find it 
 only contain notes to a considerable 
 amount; and, she was rejoiced, when her 
 husband came home, to have his assistance 
 in discovering the donor of this magnifi- 
 clew present ; but as neither could find a 
 clue by which to lead them to a discovery 
 of him, the only probable method they 
 could think of, was to write to Ellen, which 
 they immediately did; this, of course, Lof- 
 tus had foreseen they would do, but as he 
 was safe from a discovery, he remained 
 happy in the idea, that they could not 
 possibly return the contents of the pocket-.
 
 184 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 book, and therefore would appropriate 
 them to their own use. 
 
 In a short time Mrs. Ferrars received the 
 following answer from Ellen : 
 " My dear Charlotte, 
 
 " The contents of your letter astonished 
 me ; I confided no pocket-book, nor even 
 mentioned your name to any one, so you 
 owe this present to some other friend : how- 
 ever, I have the pleasure to inform you 
 that such aid will, I hope, no longer be 
 necessary to you ; for, the other day, you 
 must know, I heard that your uncle had 
 been attacked by an apoplectic fit, and 
 was dangerously ill ; at such a time, all 
 light offences and irritations are laid aside; 
 we all went to him, and he commissioned 
 me to hurry you, and Mr. Ferrars, down 
 to him ; which, I hope, you will let no- 
 thing hinder you doing, as his state is pre- 
 carious. — Adieu, my dear friend ; in the
 
 I ROM THE SPANISH. 185 
 
 hope of soon seeing you, I remain your 
 sincerely attached 
 
 E. J. The v anion." 
 
 In the joy and bustle, occasioned by this 
 letter, the affair of the pocket-book was 
 forgotten ; the next morning saw them on 
 the road to Wales, where another week be- 
 held them possessors of a comfortable ha- 
 bitation, and easy competence, which their 
 uncle, in his last moments (and by the me- 
 diation of Ellen), had bequeathed them. 
 
 Loftus, to his great joy, had soon some- 
 thing new to employ his busy brain upon ; he 
 perceived a mutual attachment arising be- 
 twixt his eldest sister, and his friend Jones; 
 this discovery delighted him, as, from the 
 knowledge he had of their dispositions, he 
 felt that a union would insure the happi- 
 ness of each ; therefore, he resolved to 
 overcome every objection his mother might 
 have, to bestowing her daughter on a lover, 
 
 N
 
 186" TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 so inferior in her eyes, and to make one of 
 his sisters happy, in spite of his family pride. 
 
 " He is certainly in love with her/' said 
 Loftus, when he, with his mother and sisters, 
 had been talking of Jones. 
 
 " Oh, as certain as any thing in the 
 world," joined in Mrs. Tarleton, who, 
 though, perhaps, as seriously averse to any 
 of the family forming a derogatory attach- 
 ment, as her mother, yet saw no harm in 
 amusing herself with her sister's blushes; 
 and, imagining that a little raillery would 
 not be amiss concerning Jones, whom she 
 guessed was only retained as a dangler till 
 something better offered, continued, " Why, 
 you know, child," every body sees he is 
 your beau." 
 
 " My beau !" repeated Miss Loftus, aim- 
 ing vainly at ease. 
 
 " Which signifies," pursued the lively 
 lady, " that he frequents the house you
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 187 
 
 live in more than any other; looks askance 
 at any /je-creature that addresses you— sta- 
 tions himself behind your chair — dances 
 with you — and, when you are both suffici- 
 ently inspired, ventures to rattle with you." 
 
 Loftus, whose kind heart felt for the pain 
 this trifling gave his gentle sister, contrived 
 to turn the current of Mrs. Tarleton's gaity 
 into another channel, and, not till he was 
 alone with her, spoke again on the subject 
 to Miss Loftus ; when he soon gained her 
 secret from her, and promised his interest 
 with their mother, whose well-known pride 
 hindered her daughter from being very san- 
 guine of success, although aided by the 
 powerful influence of her brother, who did 
 not allow much time to elapse, before he 
 opened the business to his mother, by tel- 
 ling her that Jones had offered himself to 
 Margaret's acceptance. Mrs. Loftus was, at 
 first, provoked at them an for his boldness,
 
 188 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 in venturing to look up to her daughter, 
 and still more with her son for taking his 
 part ; but Loftus was eloquent, and so art- 
 fully insinuated, that he was on the point 
 of fulfilling every wish of her heart, by 
 agreeing to marry Lady Catharine Jormie, 
 and that two, out of three children, nobly 
 married, were as much as she ought to ex- 
 pect, that she at length was forced to yield ; 
 for, should Loftus be offended (she argued 
 in her own mind), he would, perhaps, fly off, 
 and refuse Lady Catharine's expecting hand, 
 and thus disappoint all her favorite hopes. 
 Under these impressions Mrs. Loftus re- 
 ceived Jones as her son-in-law, while both 
 he, and his fair mistress, were all gratitude 
 to Loftus, as being the author of their hap- 
 piness ; taking advantage of this, he ex- 
 torted a promise from Jones, that he would 
 introduce him very soon at the Court, 
 a promise which Jones knew not how to
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 189 
 
 refuse, to the man he owed his happiness 
 to, notwithstanding he saw its impropriety. 
 
 Scarcely had Mr. and Mrs. Jones been 
 settled a few weeks at their seat, where 
 they meant to reside all the year, notwith- 
 standing Mrs. Loftus's abhorrence of the 
 country, ere they were surprised by the ap- 
 pearance of Loftus. 
 
 " You know, my motions are always ec- 
 centric," said he, " therefore, do not pre- 
 tend to be surprised at seeing me. Upon my 
 soul, Jones, I have been trying to get that 
 witch, Ellen, out of my head ; but, the more 
 I try to think of Lady Catharine, the more 
 I have your cousin before my eyes. Re- 
 member your promise ; I am come to claim 
 the peformance of it." 
 
 •* Could I suppose you serious," returned 
 Jones, " I should certainly not fulfill it." 
 
 " But as it is, you will," interrupted 
 Loftus. " That's a good fellow ; for, serious 
 or not serious, I must visit the Court."
 
 190 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 " Loftus, hear reason — " Jones was be- 
 ginning. 
 
 " Pho !" exclaimed Loftus, " all your 
 eloquence is but thrown away, and I shall 
 be just as unmoved as I was before. Why, 
 do you know, uncle Trevanion will be quite 
 glad to see me again; I remember every 
 thing about the house quite perfectly, the 
 names of all the plants, and their properties; 
 the—" 
 
 " Then, among other, things, you pro- 
 bably recollect my cousin Elizabeth ?" 
 
 " Could I forget her !" 
 
 " Well, she is married; her former lover, 
 Captain Howell, is returned, and they were 
 married a fortnight ago/' 
 
 " All the better for me, Jones ; for I 
 should have been rather ashamed of meet- 
 ing her, after all my confounded pranks 
 there." 
 
 "Then still less ought you to wish to meet 
 Ellen, who is less forgiving than her sister.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 191 
 
 and who, I can tell you, rails at you with 
 no little asperity." 
 
 " Well, then/' joined Mrs. Jones, " we 
 must give Frederick an opportunity of 
 making friends with her." 
 
 Jones was overpowered, and he consented 
 to take Loftus with them, the first visit they 
 paid to the Court ; but an indefinite time 
 would not do for Loftus, — a time, and that 
 not a very distant one, Jones found himself 
 obliged to name, and Loftus returned to 
 town the happiest mortal on earth. This 
 state of perfect ease,, however, considerably 
 changed, as the time for his visit approach- 
 ed; he began to be apprehensive that his 
 behaviour, when last at the Court, might 
 have influenced Ellen so much against him, 
 that he should never be able to gain her 
 good opinion ; and he earnestl} 7 intreated 
 his brother and sister, during their journey, 
 to use their interest to make his past follies
 
 192 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 be forgotten. Jones, who, in Loflus's 
 anxiety, saw much of the real lover, re- 
 pented that he had ever acquiesced in this 
 visit, and the knowledge of his fickle dispo- 
 sition alone consoled him with the hope 
 that nothing offensive to Mrs. Loftus, or 
 injurious to Ellen's peace of mind, would 
 follow. 
 
 The party reached the Court to dinner; 
 they were expected, and Mr. Trevanion and 
 his sister met them at the gate, anxious to 
 see their nephew's choice. Mrs. Jones could 
 not be seen and not admired, known, and 
 not loved, therefore the uncle and aunt were 
 highly charmed with their new niece, and 
 gave her such a welcome as expressed their 
 feelings. Loftus was immediately recog- 
 nised as the stranger who had claimed 
 shelter there, about half a year back, and 
 they were not sorry to meet, in this agre- 
 able stranger, their nephew's brother-in-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 193 
 
 law. The first question Jones asked was 
 about Ellen. 
 
 " She left us last week/' replied Mr. 
 Trevanion — at these words Jones began to 
 revive — "But," continued his uncle, " on 
 learning your intended visit, she resolved to 
 shorten her's to Mr. Ferrars, and return this 
 evening, therefore, as it looks clear, I shall 
 send Gwillim with her horse presently, and 
 she will be here to tea." 
 
 " What shall I do," thought Loftus, " if, 
 by any chance, I should meet Mrs. Ferrars ? 
 the pocket-book affair, and my iniquitous 
 acquaintance with the tile, must be disco- 
 vered, and then adieu to the hopes of ever 
 being in favor with Ellen." 
 
 Before dusk closed in, Mr. Trevanion, to 
 Loftus's great joy, proposed a walk down 
 the road to meet Ellen, who must, by that 
 time, he said, be near home. Miss Treva- 
 nion, who dared not stir out in an easterly
 
 194 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 wind, declined going, and Mrs. Jones re- 
 solved to stay with her, therefore the three 
 gentlemen set out alone. They had not 
 proceeded far, when Ellen came in sight, 
 galloping full speed, and mounted on so 
 beautiful an animal, that Loftus could 
 scarcely believe he could be a native of the 
 Welsh mountains. 
 
 " She is run away with," exclaimed 
 Loftus, in a fright, " the horse is too 
 spirited for her." 
 
 41 Oh, no," replied Mr. Trevanion, laugh- 
 ing, M she always rides for life and death." 
 
 Ellen soon reached them, when, checking 
 her horse with a word, before her cousin, or 
 even the nimble Loftus, could reach her, 
 she had sprung off, and, slipping the bridle 
 over her arm, approached them; Jones 
 kissed her affectionately, then introduced 
 his friend, who, as Loftus had feared, was 
 no sooner recognised, than treated with
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 195 
 
 chilling coldness, as the strolling actor who 
 had behaved so impertinently to her sister. 
 How many improvements did Loft us behold 
 in the charming Ellen since last he saw her! 
 vivacity now sparkled in her eye, and health 
 mantled on her cheek, while the graces of 
 her person had expanded, and her lover 
 thought her a thousand times more beau- 
 tiful than ever Elizabeth had been. Jones, 
 who had not seen her for two years, 
 scarcely recognised her, and he sighed for 
 his friend, as he viewed her charms. Gwil- 
 lim, who had, by this time, contrived to over- 
 take his young lady, now took her horse, 
 and Ellen walked on with the gentlemen, 
 begging them to quicken their steps, that 
 she might, as soon as possible, have the plea- 
 sure of being introduced to Mrs. Jones, 
 who, on her side, was not a little anxious 
 to see the Welsh girl she had lately heard so 
 much about. At last she beheld them com-
 
 196 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 ins; round the lawn ; Miss Trevanion had 
 discovered the impatience Mrs. Jones felt to 
 see Ellen, and, on hearing her exclaim that 
 they were coming, said: 
 
 " You must not expect to see any thing 
 above a plain country girl ; we have no 
 advantages here, either to improve the mind, 
 or the manners." 
 
 The entrance of the party stopped Miss 
 Trevanion, and Mrs. Jones rivetted her eyes 
 on Ellen, who first flew to her aunt, and 
 kissed her tenderly, then, turning to her 
 new cousin, made a low courtesy, as her 
 father introduced her, and, lowering her 
 eyes to the floor, blushed deeply at the 
 idea of her own awkwardness, when com- 
 pared to the ease and grace of her elegant 
 relation. Mrs. Jones, as she gazed on Ellen, 
 wondered not that such beauty, joined to 
 such artless ignorance of it, should have 
 won the heart of Loftus ; advancing to the
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 197 
 
 blushing girl, she took her hand, expressing 
 a wish that she might become a favorite. 
 Ellen's heart beat with rapture at such unex- 
 pected kindness, and, with a grace, and 
 winning modesty, no art could have taught, 
 thanked Mrs. Jones for her goodness. Ti- 
 midity, and natural reserve, sealed up Ellen's 
 lips for a little while, but this wore off by 
 degrees, and the most enchanting variety 
 and vivacity appeared to add fresh chains 
 to those she had already bound round the 
 heart of Loftus, who began to creep into 
 favor with her; for who could resist him, 
 when he desired to please ? Ellen argued 
 with herself, that it would be foolish not to 
 be friends with Mrs. Jones's brother, and 
 her temper was not formed to be angry with 
 any one long, though certainly, as she some- 
 times ventured to hint, his behaviour was, 
 to be sure, very extraordinary, when last at 
 the Court; what would she have said, had she 
 known of his visit to her stud v, and the tile?
 
 ]98 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 Time now flew too swiftly with Loftus, 
 though very little assistance was called in 
 from the neighbours to give it wings, and 
 he, who had frequently been devoured by 
 ennui in the most brilliant parties, found 
 the hours too short, in the deepest retire- 
 ment, and only in a family party. The 
 mornings were usually passed in active 
 amusements ; Ellen and Jones rode, or 
 walked, with Loftus, and, though the coun- 
 try was seen to disadvantage at the present 
 season of the year, yet it appeared enchant- 
 ing to Loftus, when enlivened by the pre- 
 sence of Ellen : the evenings were passed 
 in reading, or music, and Loftus had the 
 satisfaction of being- witness to that scene 
 he had so much wished to see, as described 
 by his host at the public-house, the family 
 dancing to the sound of Ellen's harp, which 
 she played so well, that Loftus could not 
 help secretly regretting she had not a nobler 
 instrument to display her talents on.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 199 
 
 '■ Oh !" exclaimed Ellen, one day, when 
 she had been playing, " I mean to learn the 
 piano one day or other/' 
 
 " Be satisfied with your national instru- 
 ment/' returned her father ; " what should 
 a piano do here ? a Welsh girl should play 
 on the harp, but pray encourage no ideas of 
 higher accomplishments ; they do not suit 
 a plain country girl, Ellen, and would only 
 take you from your more useful pursuits ; 
 besides, unless you played very well on it, I 
 should not like you to attempt it." 
 
 " She would soon make herself mistress of 
 it," joined in Mrs. Jones. 
 
 " I doubt that," returned Mr. Trevanion, 
 " we are not a musical family ; Ellen hap- 
 pened to take to the harp, or we should not 
 have had an instrument in the house." 
 
 Loftus, though intentionally, not taking a 
 part in this conversation, resolved that El- 
 len's genius should not be curbed for want
 
 c 200 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 of means to exercise it, and, desirous to see 
 her as accomplished as beautiful, he deter- 
 mined to present her with a piano forte, 
 trusting, that his sister's good-nature would 
 give her as much instruction as she would 
 want. In the mean time, lie was much 
 amused by hearing the whole account of his 
 pocket-book affair related by Ellen, to her 
 father and aunt, and, while he listened to 
 praises lavishly bestowed on the unknown 
 generous donor, he hugged himself in the 
 impossibility of a discovery. Ellen's surmises 
 particularly entertained him, for as, by the 
 mention of her name, she guessed it must 
 be some old acquaintance of hers, she puz- 
 zled her brains to recollect one who would 
 answer the description Mrs. Ferrars had 
 given her of him, but generally finished 
 with declaring, that she was acquainted with 
 no one half so hancsome as this beau was 
 described to be.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 201 
 
 When Loftus, who had written privately 
 to a music-shop for a piano, which he had 
 ordered to be directed to Ellen at the Court, 
 thought it was on its road, he confided the 
 secret to Mr. and Mrs. Jones, begging the 
 latter to own the present, lest any punctilio 
 should prevent it from being accepted. — 
 Astonished at this, and not a little grieved 
 at his having done a thing which argued so 
 badly for Lady Catharine's, and his mother's 
 plans, they endeavored to argue with him 
 once more ; but they found him more reso- 
 lute than ever, and positively determined to 
 speak openly to Mr. Trevanion, declare the 
 affection he felt for Ellen, but, at the same 
 time, state candidly his situation. A father, 
 who has reared three lovely daughters to 
 womanhood, is not surprised at these decla- 
 rations; yet, it must be confessed, that the 
 superiority of Loftus over his daughter's 
 other suitors, nattered the old man's pride, 
 
 o
 
 202 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 and lie felt a warm desire to see his darling 
 married into such a family ; but Mrs. 
 Loftus's intentions with regard to Lady 
 Catharine Jormie, which Mr. and Mrs. 
 Jones had purposely made known at the 
 Court, rather startled Mr. Trevanion, and 
 he found it would be right to act with cau- 
 tion, though the candor with which Loftus 
 laid open his concerns, freed him from any 
 suspicions derogatory to his honor. He told 
 Mr. Trevanion, that, not till he was of age, 
 was he master of his fortune, but that he did 
 not want much to that period, and then, the 
 first thing he should do, would be to repeat 
 openly those professions he now made to 
 Mr. Trevanion, The father replied, with 
 true Welsh pride, that, if Mr. Loftus and 
 the rest of the famiiy did not wish the con- 
 nection, his being of age would very little 
 signify, as Ellen possessed too much of her 
 parent's disposition, to enter into any family,
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 203 
 
 without the approbation of every indivi- 
 dual of it. In short, Loftus found that his 
 only hope rested upon being able to bring 
 over his mother and younger sister to his 
 own way of thinking, which, seriously, he 
 despaired of ever doing, as they upheld 
 each other in the resolution of introducing 
 Lady Catharine into the family. Assured, 
 however, in his own mind, of never marry- 
 ing any one but Ellen, he spoke to the fair 
 object of his affections, who, as Jones had 
 feared, easily yielded to the delight of loving 
 and being beloved, by one so amiable. 
 Unused to the arts of coquetry, she soon 
 showed her lover that he was far from in- 
 different to her, and he felt, for the hun- 
 dredth time, that he was the happiest of 
 men. Aware of the fickleness of his own 
 heart, however, he often questioned it, for 
 the happiness of such a girl as Ellen Tre- 
 vanion was not to be trifled with. He saw
 
 204 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 that she loved him — he felt that he adored 
 her, but then he had adored so many, and 
 forgotten them again ! He pulled her to 
 pieces — was she exactly what he would 
 wish for a wife ? — would he not like a wife 
 a little better known — a little more polish- 
 ed—with something of fashion about her? 
 certainly he would have wished her to have 
 possessed some of Lady Catharine's stylish- 
 ness, with all her own modest sweetness; 
 all her timid blushes, but no awkward bash- 
 fulness; in short, however, Ellen erred on 
 the right side, and he felt such a pain at his 
 heart, when he thought of renouncing her, 
 that he resolved to give his inclination the 
 rein, and yield to a passion which did honor 
 to him. 
 
 Ellen, on her side, was not wanting in 
 schemes to nurse over, but the fond visions 
 of a country girl of sixteen cannot be ex- 
 pected to be framed by very deep prudence.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 205 
 
 She saw not why Airs. Loftus should wish 
 to force her son into an union with a wo- 
 man he did not love, therefore entertained 
 no doubt but that, one day or other, she 
 should be his wife. Her partiality was too 
 evident to escape the watchful eye of her 
 cousin, who thought it his duty to warn her 
 of the danger her heart was exposed to, well 
 assured, that the docility of her temper 
 would make her attend to his advice, while 
 her strong understanding would enable her to 
 combat successfully with a passion, as yet but 
 in its infancy. He accordingly took an op- 
 portunity of conversing with her alone on the 
 subject, one day ; he explained fully to her 
 the dispositions of the mother and daughter ; 
 their firm resolution to see Loftus married 
 to Lady Catharine Jormie, and their utter 
 contempt of any one unknown in the circles 
 of fashion, or unstamped by the hand of 
 public praise. Though Ellen had ever
 
 206 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 looked up to her cousin's opinion, on all 
 subjects, with the greatest respect, yet upon 
 this she thought he showed less discernment 
 than usual ; however, she promised to guide 
 herself by his directions. Loftus soon dis- 
 covered that Ellen acted with prudence not 
 her own ; she confessed all that had passed, 
 and he endeavored to obviate Jones's an?u- 
 ments, but this he found impossible, for she 
 was determined never to admit his addresses 
 while his mother's consent was wanting; 
 she endeavored to persuade him to leave the 
 Court too, but, though he himself saw the 
 propriety of doing so, was it to be wondered 
 at that he should still delay, when the very 
 words, the voice they were uttered in, 
 the lips which pronounced them, all added 
 to his passion? However, the time drew 
 nigh for a parting ; Mr. and Mrs. Jones 
 intending to stay but a few days longer, 
 when, one day, the former and Loftus re-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 20? 
 
 turning from a ride, found a chaise at the 
 door, and, on entering the parlour, a lady 
 and gentleman seated there, with Mr. Tre- 
 vanion and the ladies. Scarcely had Loftus 
 glanced at them, when, to his utter confu- 
 sion and dismay, he recognised them for the 
 invalid stranger in the park, and his cherry- 
 lipped flame, otherwise Mr. and Mrs. Fer- 
 rars. A thousand provoking thoughts flit- 
 ted through his mind during the instant 
 which passed, before they recognised him ; 
 but then Mrs. Ferrars claiming him as her 
 late generous reliever, and former duke in 
 disguise, soon brought out all Loftus most 
 ardently wished to have concealed ; and, as 
 he found that a confession was not to be 
 avoided, he put the best face on the matter 
 he could, and, though many a vivid blush 
 stained his manly cheek during the recital, 
 and he was wishing himself at the antipodes 
 all the time, yet he related his story with 
 
 t
 
 208 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 such a grace, and intermixed it with such 
 ludicrous accounts of his own feelings during 
 his first visit to the Court, that his auditors 
 found it impossible to be angry with him; 
 his intended serenade too was not forgotten, 
 and the recitation of his hobbling verses 
 concluded the tale. Ellen, with much un- 
 easiness during his account, endeavored to 
 recollect all she had done and said, while 
 thus unconsciously observed, and every 
 thing seemed wrong. In Mrs. Jones, though 
 the sister of her lover, she possessed a true 
 friend, and a faithful adviser ; to her she 
 could confide all her hopes and fears, and 
 Mrs. Jones grieved when the idea passed 
 through her mind, that this amiable crea- 
 ture would, probably, never be her sister; 
 and she agreed with her husband, that, to 
 hurry Loftus away from the further study 
 of Ellen's excellencies, was the best plan: 
 indeed, so unobtrusive, and even retiring,
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 209 
 
 were her graces, that Loftus himself won- 
 dered she should have taken such firm hold 
 of his heart; for, in solitude, in company, 
 in his gayest, as well as in his most pensive 
 hours, she was ever in his thoughts. 
 
 " One never knows/' ruminated he, as he 
 sat leaning back in the carriage, during 
 their return to the Meadows, " one never 
 knows what is one's fate ; here am I, who 
 have resisted all that beauty and fashion 
 could do, in love with a Welsh girl, who has 
 never been twenty miles from her native 
 valley, and who knows no more of the 
 fashions of London, than she does of those 
 in the moon. My mother will never con- 
 sent ; I will confess the truth to her how- 
 ever, exchange into a foreign regiment — 
 go abroad ; and if, a year hence, Ellen still 
 holds possession of my heart, nothing shall 
 prevent my offering her my hand in spite of 
 all the mothers and sisters in existence."
 
 £10 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 A severe reproof was, notwithstanding, all 
 the answer Loftus received from his mother, 
 when he stated his passion, and, in despair 
 at this firm pride, he quitted her, resolved 
 to leave England, and the pursuance of a 
 hopeless argument together; though, in 
 fact, he did secretly regret not being able to 
 bring a long list of accomplishments to 
 please his mother's ear with, when speaking 
 of Ellen ; botany and the Welsh harp were, 
 unfortunately, not the fashion. 
 
 It is impossible to express how angry 
 Mrs. Loftus felt with Mr. and Mrs. Jones, 
 for introducing their brother at the Court ; 
 it must have been Jones's plan to force his 
 vulgar cousin into the family, and no 
 doubt but he had persuaded his silly wife 
 into the same intention ; but Mrs. Tarleton 
 was her comfort ; in her she saw a proper 
 pride, and they consulted together on the 
 best means of driving this conceit of love
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 211 
 
 out of Loftus's head. The resolution they 
 came to was to lead him into more gaiety 
 than ever, and thus wean his fickle mind 
 from its present object. In pursuance of 
 this plan, Mrs. Tarleton's parties became 
 more splendid than before, at all of which 
 her brother was a welcome, and constant 
 guest ; then would Ellen have trembled 
 had she known the risks her lovers fidelity 
 ran ; however, she was victorious, for, con- 
 trary even to Loftus's expectations, she 
 remained the sole object of his serious affec- 
 tions, and he knew not whether to congra- 
 tulate, or to condole with himself, on being 
 thoroughly, and sincerely, in love. At 
 length, wearied out with the unceasing soli- 
 citations of his mother and sister, no longer 
 to delay offering himself to Lady Ca- 
 tharine, and less than ever inclined to make 
 her his wife, he put his plan into execution, 
 and, in less than three months after his re-
 
 212 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 turn from Wales, exchanged into a regiment 
 going abroad, and vanished from among 
 his friends. Mrs. Loftus, though hardly 
 able to make up her mind to so long an 
 absence, yet, upon the whole, feeling that it 
 would probably be the best way of effec- 
 tually erasing from his mind this Miss Tre- 
 vanion, allowed him to take his way; and, 
 could she but contrive to keep Lady 
 Catharine disengaged till his return, she 
 doubted not but that then he would fulfil 
 all his engagements ; besides, the speed 
 with which he must embark, would utterly 
 preclude the possibility of his seeing his 
 enamorata again, and that was a point of no 
 small consequence gained. Here, however, 
 this subtle politician was utterly mistaken, 
 for Loftus, being resolved to have a parting 
 interview with his mistress, nothing short of 
 breaking his neck could have prevented 
 it; therefore, hurrying over his adieu
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 213 
 
 to his friends, he set out for the port 
 whence he was to embark, a distance 
 of six-and-twenty miles from the Court, 
 to which he meant to ride over ; but, arriv- 
 ing with some more officers, just in time for 
 a late dinner, they obliged him to join them 
 at it ; stealing from them, however, as soon 
 as possible, and mounting his horse, in defi- 
 ance of a dark night and hard rain, he 
 galloped fearlessly along, till he reached the 
 village, the place of his former encamp- 
 ment. Not a soul was up, and, proceed- 
 ing, he reached the gate, near which he had 
 so often taken his stand. Here he fastened 
 his horse, and, entering the garden, sta- 
 tioned himself opposite Ellen's bed-room, 
 which was over her little study. The rain 
 had given over, and the moon now and then 
 lent a ray, but not a light was to be seen in 
 any of the windows. As Loftus wished not 
 «to be seen by any one of the family, except
 
 214 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 by Ellen, he began to consider how heshoukl 
 rouse her without alarming the rest of the 
 family ; at length, anxiously fixing his eyes 
 on her window, he was about to throw some 
 earth against it, when, beyond his hopes, 
 he saw the curtain undraw, and Ellen her- 
 self appear, wrapped loosely in a dressing- 
 gown. Kept awake by the thoughts of 
 Loftus's approaching departure, which she 
 had heard of but that morning, by a letter 
 from Mrs. Jones, Ellen had, in vain, at- 
 tempted to sleep, and, for the fiftieth time, 
 had now paid a visit to the window. By 
 the partial light of the moon, she beheld a 
 man under her window, and started back in 
 terror, but venturing another look, her heart 
 soon recognised its well-beloved Loftus. 
 He motioned to her to open the window, 
 which she did, hardly knowing what she 
 was about, and, in a voice of astonishment 
 and alarm, asked him what brought him
 
 FROM THE SPAXISH. 215 
 
 there at such an hour. He besought her, 
 in a low voice, to admit him tor two mo- 
 ments only, into her study below, as he had 
 a thousand things to say to her. Ellen, 
 with still more surprise, replied, that he 
 must know that was impossible, but, that 
 if he would go round to the front gates, she 
 would call up the servants. 
 
 " Talk not of calling the servants/' re- 
 turned he, impatiently, " I only came to 
 see you — to-morrow's dawn sees me embark 
 for the continent, and I have rode here to- 
 night to have the last satisfaction of telling 
 you my heart must ever be yours, and to 
 bid you adieu/' 
 
 But vain were all his in treaties* though 
 warmly aided by her own sorrowing heart ; 
 the utmost Loftus could obtain from her 
 was an assurance, that she should look 
 anxiously for his return ; but she utterly 
 refused to receive any letters from him, or
 
 216 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 to correspond with him in any way. Her 
 father and cousin had, at length, made her 
 comprehend how very frail were her hopes 
 of ever being his; and, therefore, she re- 
 solved cautiously to avoid any thing which 
 might seem hereafter, like an endeavour 
 to bind or to entangle him in an engage- 
 ment. Half in despair at her firm refusal 
 of every thing he had most set his mind on 
 obtaining, Loftus knew not v how to take 
 leave ; at length, however, having made her 
 promise, now and then, to send a message 
 to him in his sister Jones's letters, he slowly 
 retreated to the gate, where, mounting his 
 horse, he traced back his six-and-twenty 
 miles ; while Ellen, a prey to the most pain- 
 ful feelings, threw herself on her knees, im- 
 ploring that protection for him, in the 
 dangers he was about to meet, which could 
 alone restore him to her. 
 
 Mrs. Loftus, as well as Mrs. Tarleton,
 
 FROM THE SPANISH, 217 
 
 filled their letters to Loft us with nothing but 
 Lady Catharine, whosti 11 remained aspinster; 
 
 and, as the plans of both families were well 
 known, and her ladyship's partiality had 
 been sufficiently evident, no one doubted 
 but that she was reserving her hand for her 
 roving intended. Mrs. Jones but seldom 
 mentioned Ellen in her letters, and, when 
 she did, it was generally only included in 
 some message of civility from the family of 
 the Court. Though Loftus spent much ink 
 and paper in trying to argue her out of this 
 cruel treatment, and the little use there was 
 in it, Mr. Jones would not permit her to 
 do otherwise, well aware in what a delicate 
 situation he stood with both families. 
 
 Loftus had scarcely been absent a year, 
 when Mrs. Tarleton was plunged into as 
 much affliction as a fine lady could be by 
 such an accident, by the sudden death of 
 her husband, who, worn away by a life of 
 
 p
 
 218 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 dissipated excess, found himself on his 
 death-bed at the age of thirty. Mr. Tarle- 
 ton, as has been seen, was by no means a- 
 bad husband ; but his wife, gay and vola- 
 tile as she was, had always found a vacuum 
 left in her heart by his coldness, in whom 
 she had fondly hoped to find corresponding 
 warmth of feeling, and yet which she was 
 too proud to own. She now, still more than 
 ever, wanted something to lavish her ten- 
 derness upon, and regretted, for the first time 
 in her life, having no children ; while her 
 happier sister was envied the possession of 
 an ever tender husband, and lovely babe. 
 Mrs. Tarle ton's good sense told her, that if 
 she hurried about from one gaiety to another 
 now, as she had formerly done, the world 
 would think itself allowed to talk ; and, as 
 another husband was the furthest from her 
 thoughts at present, she did not chuse to 
 incur the suspicion that she was looking out
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 219 
 
 for one, therefore, when the first depth of 
 her mourning was over, she announced her 
 intention of spending a few weeks with Mr. 
 and Mrs. Jones, at the Meadows ; on con- 
 dition, that they should return with her, the 
 ensuing spring, to London. The idea of 
 seeing her sister, after so long an absence, 
 delighted the amiable Mrs. Jones, whose 
 heart was the abode of every tender affec- 
 tion; and she resolved to take the opportu- 
 nity,which now offered itself, of introducing 
 some of the Trevanion family to Mrs. Tar- 
 leton ; accordingly she invited Captain and 
 Mrs. Howell (the latter of whom, it will be 
 remembered, wasLoftus's first Welch flame, 
 Elizabeth Trevanion) to spend a short time 
 with her during her sister's stay. 
 
 To Mrs. Tarleton, who expected to find 
 nothing but goths and vandals in the inha- 
 bitants of Wales, it was a great surprise to 
 find, in Captain Howell, an agreeable young
 
 220 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 man, of polished manners, and, in Mrs. 
 Howell, the most dazzling beauty, joined to 
 the most fascinating modesty, and winning 
 ease. 
 
 " Well," thought Mrs. Tarleton," if Ellen 
 Trevanion is like her sister, Frederick may 
 be pardoned." 
 
 Captain Howell, who was slightly known 
 to Mrs. Tarleton before, introduced his 
 half-sister who accompanied them. Jane 
 Howell was beautiful, even beside her 
 sister-in-law, but sprightliness only, and 
 the archest vivacity animated her cheeks, 
 and sparkled in her eye, while Mrs. Howell's 
 eyes seemed nothing. Mrs. Tarleton, though 
 resolved to dislike all the Trevan ion's fa- 
 mily, was forced to admire Mrs. Howell ; 
 but her sister-in-law enchanted her, and 
 she displayed so many charms and talents, 
 that, one day, when they were alone (and a 
 week's residence together had introduced
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 221 
 
 familiarity), Mrs. Tarleton could not help 
 asking her why she had never yet been taken 
 to town. 
 
 " Why because," exclaimed Miss Howell 
 gaily, " they knew I should only set Lon- 
 don in a blaze ; so they thought it wisest to 
 keep me quietly at home, where an expedi- 
 tion to the next town, or a moping visit to 
 the Court, were the highest of my enjoy- 
 ments." 
 
 " What, Mr. Trevanion's ?" 
 . " Yes." 
 
 " Enviable! —and are these to be your 
 enjoyments to the end of your life?" 
 
 " I suppose so," returned Miss Howell 
 with a sigh, " unless my brother and sister 
 are inspired sufficiently to trip up to town; 
 when, no doubt, Ellen, and I, should follow 
 them." 
 
 " You are well acquainted with Mr. 
 
 Trevanion's family ?"
 
 222 TALES ORICINAL AND 
 
 " I am very intimate with Ellen." 
 
 " That arch look, my dear Miss Howell, 
 
 tells me you have heard of my brother's 
 
 simplicity." 
 
 " What, the love affair ? — To be sure, — 
 
 who has not ?" 
 " Certainly ; the girl was too much pleased 
 
 with her supposed conquest, to make much 
 
 of a secret of it." 
 
 " Just recollect/' said Miss Howell, 
 
 screwing her mouth up, " Ellen Trevanion 
 
 is my particular friend." 
 
 " Pooh, — we'll allow that, — but still you 
 
 must see the folly of the girl. Is she like 
 
 her sister ?" 
 
 " Oh ! no — not half so handsome V* 
 " Where could Frederick's eyes be ?-— I 
 
 should like very well to see her." 
 
 " Then you must visit the Court, for she 
 
 never stirs out, there she stays and wanders 
 
 along the old passages like a ghost."
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 223 
 
 " Wearing the willow too." Here the 
 
 rest of the party approached, or there is no 
 knowing how much worse poor Ellen would 
 have been treated. 
 
 With the assistance of Miss Howell, Mrs. 
 Tarleton found the time imperceptibly glide 
 awaj% and she longed to carry her new 
 friend to town with her, but pride in- 
 terfered, and she made private enquiries of 
 Mrs. Jones concerning the " birth, parent- 
 age, and education," of this new favourite ; 
 for to introduce a girl of mean, or doubtful 
 fortunes, into her select circle, would have 
 been death to her happiness. However, she 
 found that there was not the least room for 
 apprehension, for Miss Howell was an only 
 daughter, who would come into large pos- 
 sessions on the death of several relations ; 
 that her mother was descended from a noble 
 English family ; that Miss Howell herself 
 had refused some of the first offers in the
 
 224 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 country, and, therefore, that she was a tit 
 person to be introduced by Mrs. Tarleton 
 That lady's warm invitation was received by 
 Miss Mowed, with the rapture, natural to a 
 young beauty, just about to emerge from 
 retirement ; perhaps some wandering 
 thoughts led to the Frederick Loftus she had 
 heard so much of, and with whom an inti- 
 macy with Mrs. Tarleton must bring on an 
 acquaintance; but this cannot be ascer- 
 tained with certainty ; suffice it to say she 
 had exerted every art to please Mrs. Tarle- 
 ton, and was rejoiced to find she had suc- 
 ceeded. Had Mrs. Tarleton not been fear- 
 ful of appearing to encourage any of the 
 Trevanion family, she would have yielded 
 to the sentiments of admiration she felt, 
 and included the charming Mrs. Howell in 
 her invitation, but prudence forbade it, 
 and Mrs. Loftus expressed herself glad 
 that she had done so, though almost sorry
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 225 
 
 that she should have encouraged a friend- 
 ship for this Miss Howell, whom her daugh- 
 ter's description had made her curious to 
 see. 
 
 While this was passing at home, Loftus 
 was continuing his military career abroad ; 
 he had lost much of the beau, in the soldier, 
 and (could such a term be applied to him) 
 might be said to be improved by the hard- 
 ships he had undergone. His heart still 
 fondly dwelt on Ellen, and the time now 
 rapidly approached which would make him 
 his own master ; but the fear, that, without 
 his mother's consent, Ellen never woidd be 
 his, made him turn, in his ingenious head, 
 some plan by which to gain it. Were Lady 
 Catharine but married, he guessed that his 
 mother would allow him to follow his own 
 inclinations ; and, having a tolerable insight 
 into his fair intended's disposition, he judg- 
 ed that some personal misfortune was the 
 surest method of getting rid of the honour
 
 226 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 designed him. Therefore, after revolving a 
 thousand plans, and discarding them as soon 
 as formed, he wrote word to his mother 
 (after an artfully prolonged silence), that 
 he had been so severely wounded, in a late 
 action, in his face, that fears were entertain- 
 ed for the sight of one eye ; also that he 
 had received a shot in his hip, which it was 
 apprehended would make him lame for life ; 
 and he closed this disastrous intelligence, 
 with a number of grave reflections, and 
 anxious hopes, that misfortunes would 
 not actuate his friends to welcome him back 
 with less cordiality than formerly. It is 
 impossible to tell the tears that were shed over 
 this epistle by the mother and sisters of the 
 poor wounded youth ; all the brilliant plans 
 formerly cherished by Mrs. Loft us, and her 
 youngest daughter, vanished. Loftus, the 
 ever admired and courted Loftus, would 
 no longer be " the mirror of fashion," and 
 nothing but slights and averted looks await-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 227 
 
 ed him ; but who can describe the anguish 
 poor Ellen suffered on learning the danger 
 her lover had been in ? Many a sleepless 
 night, and pillow bathed in tears, proved 
 the tenderness of her affection ; although 
 a hope that now fewer obstacles would arise 
 to their union, now and then insinuated 
 itself to console her anxious heart. 
 
 " Bless me, how shocking," exclaimed 
 Lady Catharine, on hearing of it. " Poor 
 fellow ! — why he will not be able to dance 
 any more," and, as a young man of some 
 pretensions, was at that time humbly ten- 
 dering his hand and heart, she began to 
 think Loftus was no longer worth waiting 
 for, and a few weeks saw her a bride to the 
 extreme vexation of Mrs. Loftus. 
 
 At length, Mr. and Mrs. Jones, with Miss 
 Howell, arrived in town; the latter in a 
 dream of delight at the bustle that reigned 
 about her, and Mrs. Jones in as much, at
 
 228 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 the idea of again seeing her mother, from 
 whom she had been parted ever since the 
 day of her marriage. If Mrs. Jones, dur- 
 ing her residence in London, before her mar- 
 riage, had been thought a pretty girl, she 
 was now thought angelic ; her charms and 
 graces were heightened, and increased, by 
 the temperance of a country life, and the 
 severity of her mind ; the desire too of re- 
 taining her husband's affections, had led her 
 to cherish those talents she possessed, and 
 endeavour to make herself mistress of new 
 ones ; so that she was now an accomplished, 
 as well as a charming woman, and soon eclip- 
 sed her formerly more lovely sister, whose 
 faded beauties could no longer stand in 
 the beauties of competition with Mrs. Jones. 
 They were both, however, far out-shone by 
 the more youthful graces of Miss Howell, 
 who was, in fact, lovely in person, and win- 
 ning in manners ; but scarcely had she been
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 229 
 
 arrived a few hours, were whispering Mrs. 
 
 Tarleton, with one of her arch smiles, she 
 
 said : * 
 
 " Ellen Trevanion was very jealous of 
 
 me ; she wanted to come up too." 
 
 A haughty toss of the head was all the 
 
 answer Mrs. Tarleton gave, while Miss 
 Howell laughed rather triumphantly, at 
 having displaced Ellen. 
 
 Mrs. Loftus, who had at first been rather 
 surprised that her youngest daughter should 
 have invited an unknown Welch girl to visit 
 her, soon began to be reconciled to the idea, 
 when Miss Howell made her appearance, 
 adorned with so much beauty, and naivete, 
 and she even began to take pleasure in giv- 
 ing that polish to her young acquaintance's 
 manners, which they alone wanted. On 
 Miss Howell's side, all was gaiety and rap- 
 ture ; at first, the grave hauteur of Mrs. 
 Loftus's demeanor made her shrink into
 
 230 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 herself, and wish herself again among her 
 native mountains; but reserve on the one 
 side, and timidity on the other, mutually 
 wearing off, kindness was assumed in its 
 place; indeed so much did Miss Howell's 
 sweetness win on her, that Mrs. Loftus be- 
 gan to consider that she might (under her 
 care) be formed into a proper wife for Fre- 
 derick. Her family was ancient and ho- 
 nourable, her fortune noble, her beauty con- 
 spicuous, her talents brilliant ; none of poor 
 Loftus's former admirers seemed willing to 
 unite themselves to a maimed soldier, and 
 she began to grow fonder and fonder of 
 her plan, so in fact, though Lady Catharine 
 was removed from the scene, Loftus had 
 gained Rothing by his artifice, but a change 
 of the object, though indeed Mrs. Loftus 
 began to feel less sanguine on the success 
 of her new plan, as Miss Howell grew every 
 day into more notice and admiration, which
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 231 
 
 seemed not a little to elevate the spirits of 
 the young lady, who, by the pleasure she 
 evinced at the voice of praise, and the 
 pains she evidently took to shine, plainly 
 shewed she was not deficient in female 
 vanity. This was proper pride with Mrs. 
 Tarleton, who found her own amply satis- 
 fied, when Miss Howell's figure, walk, style 
 of playing, singing, and agreable lisp, were 
 all the vogue. 
 
 Mrs. Jones soon fathomed the plan her 
 mother was indulging against the peace of 
 Loftus, and in her next packet warned him 
 of it ; at the same time giving Miss Howell 
 those praises which were certainly her due, 
 but still anxiously hoping that he had not 
 forgotten the truly amiable ElIenTrevanion, 
 of whose constancy, however, she said no- 
 thing, at Ellen's earnest desire, that his love 
 might not seem to be claimed ; and also, 
 that he might be agi eably surprised by the
 
 232 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 truth of her unchanged affections when he 
 returned ; besides, Ellen was too proud not 
 to let her more fortunate rival have a fair 
 chance of gaining him, if she wished it. 
 Thus mutually plotting were these lovers, 
 when Loftus, who had gained leave of ab- 
 sence, resolved to announce his intended 
 return as the effect of ruined health, and a 
 broken constitution ; and, hardly knowing, 
 from his sister's Jones's letters, whether he 
 might still hope to find Ellen true, or not, 
 he hurried his preparations, and, after an 
 absence of two years, found himself on the 
 point of again visiting his native country. 
 All his plans were got by heart, all his dis- 
 guises practised, when he (no longer the 
 brilliant Loftus) alighted with the greatest 
 difficulty from the carriage his mother 
 had sent to meet him. The fond mother, 
 in the first rapture of again clasping her 
 darling son in her arms, forgot the dismal
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. C J33 
 
 changes war had effected in his fine person 
 and face; but when she did, she found 
 that he had even softened the account of 
 his misfortunes, and she execrated the fatal 
 charms of Ellen Trevanion, as she observed 
 her once unrivalled son transformed into 
 this crippled figure. One half of his noble 
 countenance was disfigured by a black 
 patch, while, from the shoulder to the hip, 
 seemed contracted; so that when the swelled 
 sized and stiffness of the wounded leg is 
 considered, it will not be wondered at that 
 his walk, and appearance, was not the most 
 engaging ; in fact, it was at once awkward, 
 and uncouth, while the splendor of his 
 dress, and the height of his figure, served 
 only to render these defects more striking. 
 Mrs. Loftus was so ashamed of her altered 
 son (whose spirits, under such a calamity, 
 surprised her), that she dreaded the idea of 
 again taking him into public, and she won- 
 dered he should wish it himself.
 
 234 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 The first agreable news which met Lof- 
 tus, on his arrival, was the marriage of Lady 
 Catharine, by which he found his trick 
 had been of some use ; but, as the conti- 
 nuance of it was extremely diverting to him, 
 he resolved not yet to throw it off. The 
 first visit he paid was to his sister Tarleton, 
 where his mother had told him Mr. and 
 Mrs. Jones were, with the charming Miss 
 Howell ; of this young person he had heard 
 so much since his arrival, that he felt some 
 curiosity to see her; besides, the informa- 
 tion that she was a Welsh girl, and his 
 Ellen's most intimate friend, interested 
 him : however, he was disappointed that 
 day of seeing her, for she had just gone 
 out ; saying to Mrs. Tarleton, with the smile 
 which generally played round herlips when 
 any thing very amusing struck her, that, 
 perhaps, had Mr. Loftus been such as she 
 had heard he formerly was, she might have 
 staid at home for the honor of an introduc-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 235 
 
 tion, but, in the present state of things, 
 she hoped it would not be expeeted of her; 
 still she continued, that, from a glimpse 
 she had caught of him in the street, she 
 imagined he might make her friend Ellen 
 a very good husband. Miss Howell well 
 knew the empire she held over Mrs. Tarle- 
 ton's mind, or she would not have ventured 
 to speak so freely on a subject so galling to 
 that lady, but, all her dear Jane said, or 
 did, was right. 
 
 Loftus seized the first moment he found 
 himself alone with Mrs. Jones, to make a 
 thousand enquiries about Ellen, which his 
 sister answered with great reserve. 
 
 " Our mother," said she, li wishes you 
 to transfer your affections to her new favo- 
 rite, Miss Howell; see her first, and then, 
 if you still prefer Ellen, I will answer all 
 you wish." 
 
 " Hang Miss Howell !" exclaimed Lof-
 
 236 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 tus, with all his former vehemence ; " am 
 I always to be tormented by some cursed 
 woman, or another! I will not even see 
 Miss Howell, I will go to the Court imme- 
 diately, and hear my fate from Ellen's 
 own lips." 
 
 " Stay, Frederick," said Mrs. Jones, 
 " consider before you do so. Miss Howell 
 is not acquainted with my mother's schemes, 
 therefore, you are under no obligation to 
 give into them. She is certainly a charm - 
 ing girl. 
 
 " But you, who know how I love Ellen." 
 
 " You cannot, therefore, suspect me of 
 endeavouring to persuade you to be false 
 to her." 
 
 " Then say no more on the subject, I 
 must and will see her." 
 
 " She is not at the Court." 
 
 " Where then ?" 
 
 " With Captain, and Mrs. Howell, till
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 237 
 
 their sister returns from London, and, as 
 she accompanies us back, that will not be 
 long. 
 
 Thus situated, Loi'tus endeavoured to 
 be patient, and as he never had any objec- 
 tion to see a pretty face, he felt some de- 
 sire to be introduced to Miss Howell, who, 
 nevertheless, he felt, could never rival El- 
 len ; for he soon perceived that she avoided 
 him intentionally, evidently shocked at the 
 accounts she heard of his maimed figure : 
 Mrs. Loftus, and her youngest daughter, 
 even were forced to confess, to each other, 
 this unfortunate trait in Miss Howell's cha- 
 racter, and yet they felt sure, if she could 
 but once be surprised into an interview 
 with him, the charms of his conversation, 
 and manners, would soon make her forget 
 the defects in his person ; but all attempts 
 to bring her to agree to an introduction, were 
 fruitless ; she had discovered the plans laid
 
 238 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 for her, and felt not very much flattered 
 at the compliment of intending her for the 
 wife of a cripple. 
 
 " Why do you not write word to Ellen ?" 
 she would sometimes revenge herself, by 
 saying ; " she, perhaps, would still be glad 
 of him, not having seen great choice, he 
 may still be her hero/' 
 
 One day Mrs. Loftus invited her daugh- 
 ter, and her visitors, to partake of a family 
 dinner with her, as she was quite alone: Miss 
 Howell, learning that Loftus was not to be 
 of the party, consented to go, and reached 
 Mrs. Loftus's with her friends, some time 
 before dinner, that she might try some new 
 music Mrs. Tarleton had left there. 
 
 '* Frederick is in the library/' whispered 
 Mrs. Loftus, to her youngest daughter, on 
 their arrival. 
 
 " That is delightful/' replied Mrs. Tarle- 
 ton, then addressing Miss Howell, who had
 
 
 
 
 !• 
 
 M 
 5) 
 
 £ 
 
 4 
 
 
 B,
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. %^9 
 
 already opened the piano: " My dear Jane, 
 my mother tells me, the music we want is 
 in the library." 
 
 " Oh ! I will fetch it," exclaimed Miss 
 Howell, jumping up, as Mrs. Tarleton ex- 
 pected, " I know the way." 
 
 Loftus, who was immersed in a new pub- 
 lication, on hearing the door open, and a 
 light step enter the room, turned to see who 
 was the intruder ; scarcely had he cast his 
 eyes on Miss Howell (who stood motionless 
 with surprise), ere, starting from his chair, 
 he exclaimed in a voice of astonishment : 
 
 " Do my eyes deceive me ! Ellen Tre- 
 vanion, in my mother's house ?" and, rush- 
 ing to her, to the demolition of a table and 
 all on it, which unluckily stood in his way, 
 he caught her in his arms, just time enough 
 to save her from falling to the floor. 
 
 At that moment the three ladies and 
 Mr. Jones entered :
 
 240 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 " What have you done !" exclaimed Mrs. 
 Jones, with a countenance of terror. 
 
 " That's what I should like to know," 
 replied Mrs. Tarleton, when she could 
 recover the use of her voice. 
 
 " What does all this mean ?" enquired 
 
 Mrs. Loftus. 
 
 " It means," returned Mrs. Jones, " that 
 Ellen Trevanion, whose heart neither ab- 
 sence, nor misfortunes, could steal from my 
 brother, was anxious to remove the dislike, 
 and contempt, she found you, and my sister, 
 had taken to her; and, under a borrowed 
 name, endeavour to gain your affections. " 
 
 Both Mrs. Loftus, and Mrs. Tarleton, 
 were too much confounded to speak, and 
 Loftus had neither eyes, nor thought, for 
 any one but his senseless Ellen. 
 
 "Am I to believe you, Margaret?" at 
 length, said Mrs. Loftus, with a grave look 
 of incredulity.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 241 
 
 " I have told you the truth, madam," 
 returned Mrs. Jones. There is no Miss 
 Howell in fact, but, under that name, and 
 in character of sister to her brother-in-law, 
 I hoped Ellen might gain that place in your 
 esteem, which it is impossible she should 
 be known, and not acquire." 
 
 " A pretty finish my trick has come to !" 
 exclaimed Mrs. Tarleton, half piqued, and 
 half smiling. Well, madam," to her mother, 
 " we are finely cheated into liking this 
 wench." 
 
 " Do not imagine," proceeded Mrs. 
 Jones, that our account of Miss Howell's 
 family, and fortune, differed from the truth 
 in respect to Ellen's ; and surely Lady Mary 
 Trevanion's daughter is not less deserving 
 our Frederick's hand, than Lady Mary 
 Howell's would have been." 
 
 " I don't know what to say," after a 
 pause, uttered Mrs. Loftus, " it was a 
 strange plan, I must think of it."
 
 242 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 r 
 
 " No, my dear mother," exclaimed Lof- 
 tus, relinquishing the reviving Ellen, and 
 throwing himself before Mrs. Loftus, " do 
 a generous action without hesitating ; make 
 your son happy — look at her, mother ; tell 
 me, if you could find another woman with 
 such beauty, such talents, and such faith- 
 ful love to bless me with ?" 
 
 At that moment the disfigured face, and 
 person of her son, struck Mrs. Loftus's eye ; 
 would he again find a lovely woman willing 
 to unite herself to him ? After an instant's 
 pause, she held her hand out to him, 
 saying : 
 
 " Well, Frederick, take your way, she has 
 deserved you." 
 
 " Now, you are my mother," exclaimed 
 he, kissing her hand with transport. 
 
 " And I suppose," joined in Mrs. Tarle- 
 ton, " my consent follows of course ; come, 
 Ellen, or Jane, or whatever you are, you 
 bewitching thing, lift up your pale face,
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 243 
 
 and thank us, on your knees, for giving you 
 such an abominable wild husband/' 
 
 It is needless to say, that Loftus now 
 thought it time to discover his own trick, 
 and, when his mother again saw him shin- 
 ing in his former grace and comliness, she 
 half repented of the hasty consent she had 
 been hurried into; but Ellen's charms soon 
 banished this regret, and she began to think 
 (while Mrs. Tarleton declared herself tho- 
 roughly persuaded of it) that even a coun- 
 try girl might make a faithful mistress, ten- 
 der wife, and even a fashionable and ad- 
 mired belle.
 
 244 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 THE CAPTIVE'S SLAVE 
 
 A TALE FROM THE SPANISH. 
 
 Before the country of Barcelona was an- 
 nexed to the crown of Spain, there reigned, 
 in Catalonia, a Count named Rodolphus; 
 among the most distinguished men of whose 
 court, were two noblemen, who, above any, 
 deserved, and enjoyed, his friendship. One 
 was called Don Felix Centellas, the other Fe- 
 lician Torellas : Don Felix enjoyed the ab- 
 solute sovereignty of Catalonia; while Feli- 
 cian Torellas defended the Count's terri- 
 tories by sea, principally from the Moors 
 of Argel ; whose king revenged himself for 
 the loss of a favorite basha who had been 
 killed in battle, by the Catalonians, by 
 continually molesting them.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 245 
 
 Don Felix, assisted by the good offices 
 of those in the palace, enjoyed the affec- 
 tions of Blanche, the Count's sister ; a lady 
 of such rare beauty, that princes sued for 
 her favor ; but the Count wished her not 
 to marry, fearing, that, as he had no chil- 
 . dren, her husband would rob him of the 
 crown. Her brothers rigor, in this instance, 
 was no annoyance to Blanche, as she alone 
 loved Don Felix ; to whom, neverthe- 
 less, she was so reserved, that he frequently 
 complained of it. 
 
 One day when he was doing so, she 
 replied, that it was out of her power to 
 behave differently to him, as she could not 
 have the most distant hope of being united 
 to him till her brother's death. They were' 
 alone at the time of this conversation, when, 
 suddenly clasping her in his arms, he ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " What you will not give, then, I must 
 take, that your snow may temper my fire."
 
 246 Tales original and 
 
 Offended by this liberty, Blanche repulsed 
 him with anger, and, calling her women in, 
 he left her, afflicted by the harshness which 
 she had in fact assumed, to conceal the too 
 great love she secretly felt for him, while 
 her lover resolved that, the following night, 
 music should confide to her the pain her 
 cruelty gave him. 
 
 One of Blanche's attendants soon per- 
 ceived that this assumed coldness caused 
 her mistress no little pain to maintain, 
 and accordingly addressed her on the 
 subject : 
 
 " I have no excuse for my boldness, ma- 
 dam," said she, " but the affection I bear 
 you, which is well known to you, and 
 which now makes me presume to complain 
 of the little confidence you place in me." 
 
 Rosamund was the daughter of Blanche's 
 nurse, and appearing, in her lady's eyes, a 
 fit person, she resolved wholly to trust to 
 her prudence, and replied :
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 247 
 
 " Do not be angry with me for my 
 
 silence, Rosamund," since it only arose 
 from my being ashamed to confess the 
 cause of my uneasiness ; but, as you 
 have partly discovered it, I will not longer 
 attempt to conceal from you the love 
 which has taken possession of my heart." 
 
 While this took place betwixt Blanche, 
 and Rosamund, the lover repaired to the 
 terrace under his mistress's window, where, 
 after a number of other songs, he sung the 
 following lines unaccompanied : 
 
 " My grief awakes the dull and sleeping echoes, 
 While pitying winds return the mournful sound. 
 
 Tantalus-like, I see the wish'd refreshment, 
 And cannot reach what yet is near me found. 
 
 " When just upon the height of all my wishes, 
 Still disappointment chills my beating heart ; 
 
 Must every hope be nipp'd by cruel coldness ? 
 Must anguish never from my breast depart." 
 
 Blanche could no longer resist her passion ;
 
 248 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 she sent Don Felix a master key, admitted 
 him to her apartment, and, in a few months, 
 found herself likely to become a mother. 
 On learning this, Don Felix gave orders to 
 his secretary, whose name was Albert, and 
 in whom he knew he could confide, to pro- 
 cure a nurse, and every thing requisite for 
 the reception of the child, by his anxiety 
 about which, he plainly proved itwashisown. 
 Blanche then left her brother's palace, 
 under pretence of wanting to visit the sea- 
 side, and, as she was so obedient to him in 
 his favorite wish, the Count readily granted 
 her any other thing she desired. In a fort- 
 night after her arrival at the castle of Mon- 
 juique, she gave birth to a daughter, who 
 was named Matilda; the secret was only 
 entrusted to one lady, and Albert, who im- 
 mediately took the little innocent to the 
 nurse he had provided, who was prepared 
 for its reception.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 249 
 
 The child remained with this woman till 
 her sixth year, when her increasing likeness 
 to her mother made them tremble so much 
 for the secret, that Don Felix resolved to 
 send Albert and the nurse to reside at a sea- 
 port, near Barcelona, named Diana, where, 
 accordingly, they remained four years longer; 
 which time was spent by Matilda's parents 
 in grieving at the total impossibility there 
 was of seeing her, for Don Felix dared 
 not visit the place, lest he should raise sus- 
 picion. To console Blanche, in some mea- 
 sure, for her daughter's absence, Don Felix 
 ordered Albert to have the child's picture 
 painted on a small piece of copper, and 
 to bring it himself. This, the faithful friend 
 immediately saw done, but the young Ma- 
 tilda felt her protector's approaching ab- 
 sence so severely, that, to amuse her, the 
 day before his departure, Albert took her 
 upon the water, with him, in a felucca; 
 
 R
 
 250 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 but they had not proceeded far from land, 
 ere they were pursued and taken b} r a cor- 
 sair, who was lying to, with a number of 
 other prizes, which he meant to take into 
 Arge). 
 
 The pirate, proud of this last capture, went 
 to the palace to present the beautiful girl 
 to the Queen Sultana, who, charmed with her 
 appearance, ordered the man two hundred 
 doubloons as a reward for the present. The 
 man, seeing that Albert too was tall, and of a 
 noble mien, sold him for a good price to a 
 Moor named Andalia, who was of a gene- 
 rous disposition, and the King's favorite. 
 Audalia was in love with one of the ladies 
 of the court, and, although secretly attached 
 to the Christians, served his king faithfully. 
 Having, therefore, learned from Albert, that 
 Matilda was his daughter, and that she had 
 been carried to the palace, he told him to 
 make himself easy, for that he would charge
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 251 
 
 bis mistress Xarifa to take care of her: 
 Andalia's charge was, in some degree, ne- 
 cessary, for their Majesties had grown so 
 fond of the amiable girl, that they were 
 desirous she should leave the Holy Faith, 
 and take theirs. Desirous to win her over 
 by every thing that was enticing, they gave 
 magnificent entertainments in the Moorish 
 style, and the King, to please the Sultana, 
 assembled his most esteemed bashas, and 
 directed them to pay their court to the 
 young captive, and that which ever of them 
 was able to make her change her religion, 
 if he loved her, should have her in marriage. 
 Albert, who, on her being about to be 
 carried to the palace, foresaw this persecu- 
 tion, took an opportunity, while the guard 
 slept, of confiding to her the names of the 
 illustrious parents to whom she owed her 
 being, charging her, with tears, not to ab- 
 jure the faith she was born in; to which she 
 replied :
 
 252 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 " Do not fear me, father; though I am 
 but a young girl, I would willingly die for 
 my religion." 
 
 Matilda possessed a strong understand- 
 ing, and, acting up to Albert's advice, she 
 treated the subject with disdain, whenever 
 it was introduced, declaring that, as she 
 was a Christian, she would never marry a 
 Moor. The Queen was so much offended 
 at this obstinacy, that it required all the 
 love she bore her, not to treat her with harsh- 
 ness ; but, trusting to the effects of the kind- 
 nesses she received, and the gaieties she 
 was constantly in, she curbed her anger. 
 
 Andalia, at this period, happened to be out 
 cruizing off the shores of Catalonia, which 
 Felicia n Torellas hearing, he hastened to 
 meet, and engage, with him. Victory de- 
 clared against the Moor, who was taken 
 prisoner: the rest of the gallies made good 
 their escape, and bore the melancholy intel- 
 ligence to the King, who was so grieved for
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 253 
 
 the loss of his favorite, that he resolved to 
 send a thousand doubloons, as well as 
 many rich gifts, for his ransom. 
 
 In the mean time, the noble Catalonian, 
 who respected Andalia for the courage he 
 had evinced, treated him with every atten- 
 tion, constantly placing him at his own 
 table, and ordering his servants to attend 
 him as himself. The grateful Moor felt so 
 much true friendship rise in his heart for 
 these acts of kindness, that, had not love 
 for Xarifa interposed, his captivity would 
 have been light, and even pleasing. 
 
 The ambassadors from the Moorish king 
 having arrived, and delivered their message, 
 Felician replied that, not for the royal crown 
 would he give up Andalia, who was too 
 dangerous an enemy to be set free. With this 
 answer the ambassadors were obliged to 
 depart, and the despairing Moor retired to 
 his apartment frantic with grief: he there
 
 254 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 tore Kis hair, and dashed himself against 
 every thing so furiously, that the attendants, 
 unable to restrain him, informed their master 
 of his violence. 
 
 " How is this, Andalia?' exclaimed Feli- 
 cian, on hastening to the apartment. " Why 
 are you thus furious ? What is the cause of 
 this violence ? Do I not treat you with friend- 
 ship? Is this the return for my kindness?" 
 
 " Beloved lord of my soul !" returned An- 
 dalia, " my grief does not proceed from 
 being your captive/' 
 
 " Then tell me what it does proceed from/' 
 said Felician, "and I swear that, if it is in 
 my power to relieve it, I will." 
 
 " If you keep your oath, noble and vir- 
 tuous Spaniard," replied Andalia, " I swear, 
 by Alia, that Xarifa and myself will be 
 your slaves for ever." He then related his 
 story to him, and concluded by saying — 
 *' Now tell me, sir, have I not reason to
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 255 
 
 mourn being a captive? — Xarifa, the most 
 lovely female in Argel, a favorite with the 
 Sultana, and courted by the most illustrious 
 Moors, will, perhaps, forget the absent 
 Andalia." 
 
 These words, and the tears and anguish 
 that accompanied them, moved Felician's 
 generous heart. 
 
 " I will instantly give you liberty/' said 
 he, "if you will promise never to bear arms 
 against the Count Rodolphus." 
 
 " Till now I was your prisoner !" exclaim- 
 ed Andalia, falling at his feet, " but now 
 I am your slave; and so faithful an one, that 
 I swear to return to you when I am pos- 
 sessed of my adored Moor's lovely hand." 
 
 " I do not desire you to return,'* said 
 Felician, " only fulfil your promise not to 
 annoy the coasts of Catalonia, and I am 
 satisfied." Then, giving him a passport and 
 a vessel, he sent him away.
 
 256 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 When Andalia arrived at Argel, he hast- 
 ened to the palace, and presented him- 
 self to the King, who, astonished and de- 
 lighted at the sight of him, exclaimed : 
 
 "What unexpected happiness is this? 
 All I sent was not sufficient to ransom you, 
 and jet now I see you here." 
 
 Andalia related what had passed, intreat- 
 ing to be sent against other enemies than the 
 Catalonians, that he might not break his 
 promise. 
 
 " I have so much affection for you/' said 
 the King, " that; I do not like to expose 
 your life again; therefore do not quit the 
 court without my order, and, as Xarifa is 
 the cause of the pleasure I now enjoy, her 
 hand shall be the reward of your past suf- 
 ferings." 
 
 Andalia thanked him, as he kissed his 
 feet, and next day the marriage was cele- 
 brated, with every sort of festivity. A noble
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 25 
 
 basha, who had also loved Xarifa, asked the 
 King's permission to cruize off the Cata- 
 lonian shores, as Andalia bad left them, and, 
 having obtained leave, he immediately went 
 to sea. 
 
 Felician, who relied on Andalia keeping 
 his promise, wished to relax for a few days 
 from the severity of toil he had hitherto been 
 enduring, and he resolved to visit some of the 
 ports to see what was wanting in them : this 
 he did, and, finding that military were ne- 
 cessary in several places, he returned, hav- 
 ing with him a hundred soldiers. During 
 his voyage he was attacked, and captured, 
 by some of the basha's galleots, who, satis- 
 fied with this prize, and guessing persons of 
 consequence were on board, immediately 
 returned to Argel. Having disembarked 
 his captives, the basha ordered a servant 
 to sell them, that the profits might be added 
 to the pay of his soldiers. While they were
 
 ( 25S TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 standing in the market-place. Andalia, hav- 
 ing heard they were Catalonians, went to 
 look at them, and immediately recognised 
 Felician. Hardly able to conceal his agi- 
 tation, he called the man who was to sell 
 them, and asked the price fixed -on that 
 particular slave ; he was told three hundred 
 sequins, and, without a moment's pause, he 
 paid the money, and took him home. The 
 elegance of Andalia's dress completely dis- 
 guised him to the afflicted Spaniard, who, 
 on reaching Andalia's house, was ordered by 
 him to wait his return in the apartment in 
 which he left him. The Moor then hastened 
 to his wife, and, dismissing her slaves, ad- 
 dressed her : 
 
 " Beloved partner !" said he, " I now 
 have in my house her master I adore — the 
 man who gave me life, by giving me you/' 
 
 Both Andalia and his wife had Ions; wish- 
 ed to embrace the Catholic faith, but the
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 259 
 
 tender love Xarifa bore Matilda, had hi- 
 therto restrained them from dying secretly, 
 having waited for an opportunity of carry- 
 ing her away with them. 
 
 Hurrying back with his wife to the hall 
 where Felician waited, Andalia exclaimed: 
 
 " Beloved lord, let your slaves kiss your 
 hand ! Andalia owes his liberty to you, and 
 must ever be his Captive's Slave/' 
 
 For some minutes Felician was mute with 
 astonishment; at last, throwing his arms 
 round them, he exclaimed : 
 
 " I now look on my misfortune as happy, 
 since it gives me a more perfect knowledge 
 of your noble heart, generous Andalia !" 
 
 When calmness was restored, Andalia 
 confided to him their intention of becoming 
 Christians, and accompanying him back; 
 the captivity of Matilda was then spoken 
 of— their Majesties' intention respecting 
 her, and of her father being a slave em- 
 ployed in Audalia's garden. Felician de-
 
 260 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 sired him to be sent for, but Andalia ob- 
 served that it would be more advisable for 
 them to go down to the garden, that the 
 Moors might have no suspicion of any plan, 
 as it was necessary that Albert should be with 
 them when they concerted their scheme of 
 escape, he being to accompany them. 
 Having reached the garden, Andalia ad- 
 dressed Albert : 
 
 " Noble captive," said he, " the Lord Feli- 
 cian, whom you have often heard me mention, 
 is now here : I have told him of the captivity 
 of your daughter, and I trust in God that 
 his arrival will bring us good fortune ; I 
 only fear that the Count will send his ran- 
 som before our departure." 
 
 "There is no reason to fear that/' re- 
 turned Felician, " for his highness is so ill 
 at present, that they dare not give him any 
 uneasiness, so, probably, my loss will not 
 even be made known to him." 
 
 Andalia was satisfied, and, charging Al-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 26l 
 
 bert to take care of himself, he left them, 
 ordering a servant to prepare an apartment 
 for Felician, who, being left thus alone with 
 Albert, the latter addressed him, saying: 
 
 " Let me take the opportunity I now 
 have, Senor Felician, of confiding to you 
 an important secret, which has never yet 
 passed my lips; — look at this portrait/* 
 
 Felician admired the rare beauty of the 
 young female it represented, and inquired 
 if it was that of his captive daughter. Al- 
 bert replied, that it was. 
 
 " Come with me," he then continued, 
 " and to your honor I will confide every 
 thin^" 
 
 Then seating himself under the shade of 
 some orange-trees, by a fountain, he related to 
 Felician the secretof Matilda's birth, adding, 
 that as Andalia was the King's favorite, he 
 himself was permitted, being supposed to be 
 her father, to see her sometimes, and, as the
 
 26'2 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 King allowed her to be addressed by the 
 Moors, he had imagined a plan which would, 
 probably, free her from captivity. Felician 
 replied, with warmth, that he had already 
 resolved to free her, were it at the ex pence 
 of his own life. 
 
 Next day Andalia, on enquiring how 
 Felician had passed the night, was told by 
 him, that he was in love with Albert's daugh- 
 ter,that he could not exist without seeing her, 
 and that, before the day of his departure 
 arrived, Andalia must find some means of 
 introducing him at the palace. Andalia 
 replied, that, to take him there as a slave, 
 would be useless, as he would be entirely 
 overlooked ; but that, if he would assume 
 the Moorish dress, he should pass for a rela- 
 tion of his, who had been in slavery for a 
 length of time, and now was presented to the 
 King, in hopes of being employed in his 
 service. As Felician could speak Arabic
 
 PROM THE SPANISH. '2()3 
 
 tolerably, the worthy Moor's plan appeared 
 practicable, and it was to be put in imme- 
 diate execution. 
 
 The gaieties of the court now beginning, 
 Andalia told his wife to visit the Queen, 
 and to take some opportunity of telling Ma- 
 tilda who Felician really was, that she might 
 not, thinking him a Moor, refuse him when 
 he offered her his hand. The prudent Xa- 
 rifa did as her husband directed her, and 
 soon found an opportunity of making known 
 to Matilda the plan that was in agitation, 
 intreatino* her to receive Felician with kind- 
 ness, as he well deserved her love : Matilda, 
 delighted to find that Xarifa was in heart a 
 Christian, yielded implicitly to all she dic- 
 tated, and could hardly find words to 
 express her delight. 
 
 The time at length arrived for putting 
 this plan in practice : Andalia ordered Al- 
 bert to form a nosegay for the Queen, when
 
 264 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 he and Felician set out for the palace, where 
 he related to the King the story he and 
 his friend had agreed on, adding, that his 
 cousin Mustapha, was desirous of trying his 
 fortune with the young Christian, as he felt 
 sure, were he permitted to try, he should be 
 able to conquer her obstinate heart. The 
 King was so well pleased with Felician's 
 noble appearance, that he immediately gave 
 him the office of secretary, saying, that if 
 he were able to overcome the captive's scru- 
 ples, he would remember his promise, and 
 she should be his ; in the mean time, at the 
 ball in the evening, he should have an op- 
 portunity of beginning his courtship. 
 
 When Andalia, and Felician, returned 
 home, the latter could not restrain the joy 
 he felt at the success their plan had been 
 crowned with. 
 
 " Though even now," interrupted Anda- 
 lia, " the most important part is still want-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 265 
 
 ing ; Albert must go to Barcelona the same 
 day that we gain leave from the King to 
 sally out on the galleots which infest our 
 coast, for we should be severely punished 
 were we to abjure the Moorish faith here. 
 You must give them directions, in your ad- 
 vices home, to send some galleots, as usual, 
 like enemies, and that they must advise our 
 spies of their approach. It will then be easy 
 for us to allow ourselves to be taken, and 
 thus escape. Your letter must also mention 
 that, when we come in sight, a flag shall be 
 discharged from the round-top of our vessel, 
 to mark it from the others." 
 
 Felician embraced his friend in raptures 
 at his ingenuity ; but, as the hour for going 
 to the palace approached, he could attend 
 to nothing else, intreating Andalia to has- 
 ten his preparations, Andalia then took 
 the nosegay, which had been gathered by 
 Albert, having given Felician one compos- 
 
 s
 
 266 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 ed of white musk-flower, and they soon 
 reached the palace, where they found the 
 ball begun. Andalia presented his nosegay, 
 and ordered the musicians to play a Moorish 
 canario, as Mustapha wished to dance be- 
 fore their Majesties. "When the musicians 
 began the dance, Felician entered the hall, 
 and, after the usual obedience, danced with 
 the flowers in his hand, at the same time 
 singing these words : 
 
 " These flowers, array 'd in virgin white, 
 
 As emblems are design'd ; 
 Their rarest qualities unite, 
 
 To paint thy charms and mind : 
 Their pureness too, fair Christian maid, 
 
 Marks out the faithful heart 
 Which may in death's embraces fade, 
 
 But ne'er from thee depart. 
 And, maiden, trust me, when I say I love 
 With such a warm and glowing flame, 
 That adoration for what now I prove 
 Is far — oh * far— too cold a name !"
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 267 
 
 The dance being finished, he bowed to 
 the King and Queen ; then, advancing to 
 where the ladies were placed, he kissed the 
 nosegay, and presented it to Matilda; she 
 took it, saying : 
 
 " Moor, 1 cannot now return you the 
 faith you ask of me, but let it suffice that I 
 receive these flowers ; though, being a Chris- 
 tian, I ought not to encourage an affection 
 for you, or allow your love for me/' 
 
 The pleasure the King and Queen felt, at 
 hearing such an unexpectedly gracious an- 
 swer from those hitherto severe lips, could 
 only be equalled by the jealousy and rage 
 of Matilda's other suitors ; especially that of 
 a Moor named Zulema, who asked the 
 King why Felician was admitted to the 
 ball ? 
 
 " Mustapha is noble/' replied the King, 
 " and, besides, is Andalia's cousin ; why do 
 you complain ? If you, and the rest of her
 
 268 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 lovers know, that, except she changes her 
 religion, she cannot become your wife, why 
 do you not learn how to make her alter her 
 resolution ? Do so, and she may yet be 
 yours." 
 
 The festivities over, Andaliaand Felician 
 returned home; Albert then departed, givt 
 ing out that the friars of the Order of 
 Mercy had ransomed him of Andalia, and 
 were to take him away, with the other re- 
 deemed captives. Such a prosperous gale 
 wafted on his vessel, that in a few days it 
 reached the port of Barcelona ; where, dis- 
 embarking, he learned that the Count Ro- 
 dolphus was dead, and that Blanche had 
 bestowed her hand on its Ions; beloved lord, 
 Don Felix. Charmed with these grateful 
 tidings, Albert requested permission of the 
 Father Redeemer, with whom he had sailed, 
 to visit the Court, assuring him of great alms 
 if he complied. Having gained the leave
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 260 
 
 he sought, he soon reached the palace, 
 where he was immediately recognised. The 
 news of his arrival was not long reaching 
 Don Felix, who instantly sent for him. 
 
 " How is this, Albert?" said he, when 
 they w r ere alone. " Where is my daughter ? 
 Where is the precious jewel I trusted to 
 3'ou ? I have thought you a traitor since 
 the day you fled." 
 
 " Your highness will rather sav," return- 
 ed Albert, " when you have heard all, that 
 I am the most faithful of servants." Then, 
 having congratulated Don Felix upon his 
 new dignity, he thus continued: " If your 
 highness will peruse this letter, you will see 
 where your lovely pledge is, and how much 
 you owe to rny fidelity." 
 
 Don Felix, as he read the letter, was sur- 
 prised to find that Felician was in captivity ; 
 as it was supposed, in Barcelona, that he was 
 still cruizing about the seas. When Albert
 
 270 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 had related every thing that had passed, 
 Don Felix was still more astonished, at the 
 noble Andalia's fidelity, and, hastening to 
 his wife's apartment, he delighted her, by 
 the joyful intelligence of her daughter's 
 safety ; adding that he was resolved to go 
 in person to fetch her; and, having given 
 immediate orders for six gallies to be got 
 ready, with every provision for a voyage, 
 he, without loss of time, departed. 
 
 In a few days the spies gave notice of his 
 approach, on which the King resolved to 
 dispatch some vessels to meet them, in 
 which Andalia and Felician requested per- 
 mission to go, and lend their assistance; 
 the former alleging that, as the Spaniards 
 annoyed his country, he was not hindered, 
 by the promise he had been forced to give, 
 from acting on the defensive. The King, 
 who relied much on his known courage, 
 armed several gallies immediately ; on
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 2? 1 
 
 board of which Andalia put as many Chris- 
 tians as he could, saying, that those slaves 
 would only breed troubles in the city, and 
 were better at the oar. 
 
 Just before they embarked, Xarifa asked 
 the Queen's permission to take some of the 
 ladies of the court with her, to see Andalia 
 embark. The Sultana easily granted this 
 favor, when Matilda began to intreat per- 
 mission to accompany them. 
 
 " If you would oblige me," replied the 
 Sultana, " I would oblige you." 
 
 " Willingly would I do that, madam," 
 returned Matilda, " even to the marrying 
 Mustapha; for I feel so grateful for the 
 love he expresses for me, and so much sor- 
 row at the idea of his absence, that I now 
 ask permission to go and see him depart." 
 
 The Sultana, highly satisfied with Matil- 
 da's answer, immediately gained the King's 
 permission, and she went.
 
 272 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 The party being arrived at the sea-side 
 with their guard, Andalia invited them into 
 his vessel, where, as it was at anchor, they 
 could see the embarkation to more advan- 
 tage. The rest of the ladies refused, fearing 
 to go on the water, but Matilda intreated 
 Xarifa to go on board, as she wished to 
 speak to Mustapha. The Moors, glad to 
 see her so favourable to him, as they looked 
 upon it now not doubtful, but that she 
 would leave the Catholic Faith, intreated 
 the captain of the guard, in consideration 
 of this, to permit them ; and Andalia em- 
 barked them, congratulating himself on his 
 good fortune ; having that night privately 
 put on board all his wealth. While the 
 captain and Moorish soldiers were prepar- 
 ing to follow, he shortened the cables, 
 raised the anchors, and the vessel shot away 
 as if borne on the winds instead of the 
 waves. Those who were on land, asto-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 273 
 
 nished to see it depart, ran to tell the 
 King. The Sultana imagined that, asXarifa 
 was on board, it was owins; to some care- 
 lessness of the sailors, and that the vessel 
 would return ; but the King exclaimed : 
 
 " Rather let a vessel be manned, and 
 immediately sent after them/' 
 
 To free themselves from suspicion, the 
 people set about doing so, but not so spee- 
 dily, but that they gave the runaways 
 time (the wind being favorable) to show 
 the expecting galleys the flag, by which 
 Don Felix discovered which vessel they 
 were in. He then gave the signal to chace 
 all the vessels, except that which bore the 
 flag, and, on the firing of a gun, to attack 
 them; then, rowing with all speed, he soon 
 reached the galleot, which, though Andalia 
 made a show of resistance, yet gave them 
 an opportunity of throwing their grappling 
 irons on board, when Don Felix firing the
 
 274 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 signal, the rest of his vessels poured their 
 artillery on the remainder. The Moors, on 
 seeing Andalia and Mustapha taken pri- 
 soners, and the Spanish gallies getting the 
 advantage, took flight, followed by the 
 others, till out of sight of Andalia's vessel, 
 when the chace ceased. The Moors soon 
 afterwards met the vessel sent after them 
 by the King; who, when he heard the intel- 
 ligence, nothing could exceed his grief for 
 the loss of Andalia and Matilda. 
 
 In the mean time the happy Spaniards, 
 having got into port, disembarked, and 
 hastened to Blanche, who dissolved into 
 tears on seeing her daughter embracing 
 Xarifa. 
 
 " Noble Moor," said she, " you are 
 mistress of all I have." 
 
 " Madam," replied Xarifa, kneeling, " I 
 wish to be a Christian ; I ask no reward but 
 to be baptised, with my husband/'
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 275 
 
 This was easily promised, but, as she first 
 wished to visit the Holy Virgin of Mont- 
 serrat, to return thanks for the many bles- 
 sings she had received, four lamps were pre- 
 pared, each of four thousand ducats va- 
 lue, rich altar-clothes, and ornaments, 
 and also two thousand ducats for alms, 
 which all pilgrims, visiting that sanctuary, 
 carry. The whole party remained three 
 days in the holy house, where the two 
 noble Moors were baptised. Xarifa (at 
 her own desire) was named Mary of Mont- 
 serrat, and Andalia, who, on being asked 
 what name he chose, replied that, as he 
 had been of use to both the gentlemen, he 
 would bear both their names, was called 
 Felix Felician. 
 
 On their return to the court, he remind- 
 ed Don Felix, that it would be proper to 
 send the King a present, as a token of gra-
 
 *l~l6 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 titude for the kindness Matilda had met 
 with. His advice was followed, and Don 
 Felix ordered all the Moors who belonged to 
 Argel, to appear before him new clothed, 
 which care he left to Andalia, that they 
 might be presented to the Sultana; also a 
 hundred horses, their furniture covered with 
 brocade, and four hundred tuntains of gold, 
 which he sent by two noblemen for the 
 King, accompanied by a letter, in which 
 he said that he did not send back Andalia, 
 or Xarif'a, as they wished to remain in 
 Spain; that Matilda was his daughter, for 
 whom he sent the accompanying presents 
 as a ransom. 
 
 When the ship containing this embassy 
 arrived at the port of Argel, and the King 
 found it came in peace, he suffered the 
 Spaniards to disembark, and, on receiving 
 the letter, and presents, began to consider
 
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 O 
 
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 PROM THE SPANISH. 277 
 
 that his anger was useless, and, as he could 
 not help admiring the noble generosity of 
 the two brave Catalonians, he sent his am- 
 bassador back with thanks for the pre- 
 sents; and, in consideration of the great 
 love he bore Matilda, desired perpe- 
 tual peace with Don Felix, pledging his 
 royal word, not to break it. The am- 
 basssadors, bearing this joyful message, 
 were received in Barcelona with the 
 greatest friendship, and welcomed by a 
 thousand festivities. 
 
 Andalia intreated his master to have a pic- 
 ture drawn, which might be descriptive of 
 the whole story, as an everlasting memorial 
 of his fidelity, and that it should be hung 
 up in a conspicuous place, for every one 
 to see it. His desires were fulfilled. A 
 large niche was formed in a wall ; then a 
 skilful artist was employed, to make a
 
 €?8 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 small figure of* the Holy Virgin of Mont- 
 serrat, and, by her side, Andalia, and Xa- 
 rifa, were represented, habited as Chris- 
 tians, and holding a scroll, on which was 
 written the whole story. Over this groupe 
 was placed a figure of Fame, her trumpet 
 in one hand, and a target in the other, 
 on which was inscribed this verse, in Gothic 
 characters : 
 
 " The glorious trump of victor Fame, 
 Pours this never-ending theme; 
 Andalia, loyal as he's brave, 
 Boasts he is his Captive's Slave." 
 
 The piece being finished, the streets were 
 adorned with sumptuous hangings, and 
 magnificent altars, and the divine image 
 was carried in solemn procession through 
 them, and placed in the niche with a gilt 
 lattice before it.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 279 
 
 The whole party lived long afterwards. 
 Andalia having been appointed principal 
 major-domo, and Xarifa, lady of the bed- 
 chamber. 
 
 Albert married one of Blanche's ladies, 
 and enjoyed several posts of honor. 
 Matilda had two sons, who reigned after- 
 wards with glory.
 
 280 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 THE SHEPHERD 
 
 AND 
 
 THE KNIGHT. 
 
 * he trees had shot forth their most luxuriant 
 foliage, and the fields had begun to clothe 
 themselves in their gayest liveries, when the 
 youthful Cesario having, in vain, endea- 
 vored to divert his chagrin by the soft 
 sounds of his pipe, threw it from him im- 
 patiently, and, casting himself at the foot 
 of a spreading cedar, gave utterance to those 
 thoughts which constantly filled his mind, 
 and made him wretched. 
 
 " And must this hand," exclaimed he, 
 indignantly, " be forever doomed to grasp 
 a sheep-hook, instead of reining in the fiery
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. Ss8l 
 
 steed, must it only conduct the peaceful 
 flocks of these vallies ? Is this poor pipe to 
 be my only companion? Why was this 
 strength given me — why does my untaught 
 heart beat for glory, if I am to waste my 
 life in these vallies?" Then pausing, and 
 calling to mind a tilting bout he had lately 
 seen at a neighbouring castle, " How no- 
 bly," he exclaimed, " did the youthful 
 Algernon sit his horse I the acclamations of 
 the crowd followed his steps — but he was a 
 lord's son ! — he has the power to learn ; and 
 the embraces of his parents and sisters await 
 him to sweeten his triumph: alas! I have 
 no parents — no sisters — no friend ! — why 
 should I then signalize myself ?— for my own 
 heart — for my king — for my country !" 
 
 Grasping his sheep-hook, the youth start- 
 ed up, and seemed ready to rush on a foe, 
 when the figure of the envied Algernon's 
 father met his eye, and changed his haughty 
 
 T
 
 282 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 air into an humble bow, while his cheeks 
 were crimsoned over by the thought of 
 having been observed. The venerable Lord 
 Adrian approached, and enquired of Ce- 
 sario who he was? Cesario related a plain 
 tale, of his being the child of chance, 
 brought up by the bounty of the shepherd 
 Basil, whose flocks it was his care to tend. 
 Interested in this youth, Lord Adrian was 
 still questioning him, when loud cries from 
 the hill, at the foot of which they stood, 
 made them raise their eyes, and they 
 beheld a young damsel, mounted on a fiery 
 steed which, with headstrong violence, was 
 rushing down the declivity. Cesario had 
 scarcely beheld her danger, ere, darting with 
 the rapidity of lightning to her assistance, 
 he seized the loose bridle, and, with a power- 
 ful arm, checked the furious animal for a 
 moment, which moment he employed in 
 lifting the almost breathless damsel from her
 
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 PROM THE SPANISH. 283 
 
 seat ; this was no sooner done than the 
 impatient creature, snorting and rearing, 
 tore from the youth, but not till the bridle 
 had twisted round his arm, and, in the 
 struggle, given it a violent wrench. The 
 severe anguish which this occasioned, 
 obliged Cesario to relinquish his fair bur- 
 then to the Lord Adrian, who had now 
 reached them, and, with transport, clasped 
 to his bosom his terrified child ; for, in the 
 rescued maiden, he recognised his youngest 
 daughter, the thoughtless Edith, who had 
 giddily mounted her brother's horse, and, 
 but for Cesario's timely gallantry, had, pro- 
 bably, paid, with her life, for her boldness. 
 Algernon and her sister had followed in hope- 
 less terror, and now shared the transports 
 of their parent, in again embracing Edith, 
 while Cesario, forgotten during their first 
 raptures, even by the grateful hearts he had 
 obliged, retired a little behind, was viewing
 
 284 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 the scene before him with moistened eyes, 
 and a heart that felt but too bitterly his 
 own forlorn state ; at last, the fair Edith 
 herself, recovered partly from her terror, 
 looked round for her preserver, and, seeing 
 him with a pale dejected countenance, 
 leaning against a tree, anxiously advanced 
 to him, saying to her father, that she hoped 
 he would not forget to whom she owed her 
 safety; then, observing the sprained arm 
 hanging motionless by his side, she asked, 
 with a voice of tenderness, if he was hurt. 
 
 44 Only my wrist," said Cesario, with a 
 look of gratitude, and retiring, modestly, to 
 avoid the thanks he saw them about to pay 
 him. 
 
 " It is sprained !" exclaimed Edith, and 
 cast her eyes on her brother, who needed no 
 more, but, telling Cesario to follow him, 
 hurried to the castle, attended by the whole 
 party.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 285 
 
 At Rock-Ledge, for so was Lord Adrian's 
 castle called, from its lofty situation, the 
 Shepherd was introduced to the Lady Ger- 
 trude, Edith's mother, as the preserver of 
 her child ; and she, as well as her two 
 daughters, saw that every attention was 
 paid to the sprained arm, which, when 
 bound up and hung in a sling, Cesario 
 found could no longer excuse his stay; 
 therefore, with a sorrowful countenance, 
 and depressed heart, he took his leave of 
 the respected family, and retraced slowly 
 the path which led from the heights. Throw- 
 ing himself again under his cedar, he began 
 meditating on what he might have been, 
 had he received such an education as the 
 envied Algernon, whose noble manners, and 
 graceful affability, had struck him with the 
 deepest admiration. Every thing but Rock- 
 Ledge was forgotten, and it is doubtful 
 when he would have awaked from this
 
 286* TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 trance, had not a hasty step, and a voice 
 calling his name, aroused him. He started 
 up, on perceiving Algernon himself ap- 
 proaching, his face full of animation, and 
 his whole deportment expressive of some 
 important business. Holding out his hand 
 to Cesario, with that frank familiarity so 
 engaging in youth, he exclaimed : 
 
 " I have been searching for you this half 
 hour, Shepherd ; my father has sent me to 
 you ; he heard your words some time ago : 
 do you wish to learn the use of arms ?" 
 
 " Oh, how ardently \" exclaimed Cesario. 
 
 " Well, then, come to the castle every 
 day, and such exercises as I know, you 
 shall learn; I will be your master in them, 
 and thus shall be improving myself, while 
 I am instructing you/' 
 
 Cesario kissed his new friend's hand, 
 while his eyes glistened with rapture; the 
 affair was soon settled, and the sprained
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 28? 
 
 wrist was all that now hindered the Shep- 
 herd from beginning those exercises he so 
 ardently longed to know. 
 
 Under such a master as Algernon, Ce- 
 sario could not fail to improve rapidly; in 
 a very short time he equalled his instructor 
 in all manly exercises, while he far surpassed 
 him in bodily strength and agility. A very 
 few weeks sufficed to show Lord Adrian and 
 his son, that their kindness had not been 
 thrown away upon an ungrateful, or churl- 
 ish disposition ; a generous pride marked 
 all the Shepherd's words and actions, and, 
 from Algernon's companion, he soon became 
 his friend ; a friend, into whose faithful 
 heart he found he could pour his most se- 
 cret thoughts ; and, from the lovely Edith's 
 deliverer, he became her lover ; but uncon- 
 sciously was the wound given, and, as un- 
 consciously, received, for little did either 
 guess that love caused the mutual pleasure
 
 288 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 they felt in obliging each other, or that the 
 delight they felt in each other's society y 
 arose from more than, in her, a laudable 
 wish to draw forth humble merit, and, in 
 him, a just degree of gratitude for the con- 
 stant kindnesses he received: at length, the 
 Shepherd's eyes were opened accidentally. 
 
 Algernon, who was one year older than 
 Cesario, had long loved the daughter of a 
 neighbouring Baron ; the union was appro- 
 ved, and desired, by the friends of each, and 
 only the youth of both parties delayed its 
 celebration. The lover's greatest comfort, 
 in the absence of his mistress, was to pour 
 into Cesario's attentive ear accounts of his 
 feelings, and his dear Floresta's virtues. 
 
 "Ah, Cesario !" Algernon would exclaim, 
 " I cannot describe to you what I feel 
 when my Floresta is near me, when she ad- 
 dresses me in her softest voice, and when 
 she holds her arms out for me to lift her
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 289 
 
 from her horse, which she always does, as 
 if to say, " will you not help me?" 
 
 The similarity of the feelings Algernon 
 expressed, with those he himself felt for 
 Edith, immediately struck him ; and the 
 idea that the very look Floresta always gave 
 her favored Algernon, was just such as 
 Edith often threw on him, insinuated itself 
 into his heart. 
 
 " And yet/' thought he, " it is impos- 
 sible — the lovely, the exalted Edith has 
 so disgraced herself; she shall never know 
 the unworthy conquest she has made. Shall 
 I reward the benevolence of this family by 
 the blackest ingratitude? To kii?>y, and to 
 love her, must be the same thing; it was not 
 my fault ; but, now I know my weakness, I 
 should be wrong, I should be wicked, not 
 to shun^ the bright temptation. My fate 
 would have been too happy if, always shel- 
 tered by this hospitable roof— always the
 
 290 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 noble Algernon's companion ; I might have 
 forgotten myself/' 
 
 Actuated by a strong sense of his duty, 
 he immediately resolved to quit the castle, 
 lest, constantly in the society of the charm- 
 ing Edith, some unguarded moment might 
 'disclose to her the love he bore her ; accord- 
 ingly, he seized the first opportunity of con- 
 fiding to Lord Adrian his intention of no 
 longer idling his life away at Rock-Ledge. 
 
 " I cannot blame you," replied his bene- 
 factor, " inglorious peace is irksome to such 
 ardent minds as your's, Cesario ; but let us 
 hear from you often, for all that Cesario does 
 must be interesting to us." 
 
 " Cruel Cesario !" exclaimed Algernon, 
 who was with his father, " why this sudden 
 determination ? I thought you intended to 
 share my fortunes." 
 
 " A court is not a place forme," return- 
 ed Cesario, " without a name — a family ;
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 291 
 
 subjected, as I should be, to a thousand 
 insults ! I shall, at least, be able to revenge 
 those I meet with, when rambling round 
 the world, my sword in my hand ; and, if 
 it should be my happy lot to find a name I 
 may take without blushing, it shall be my 
 first pride to revisit Rock- Ledge." 
 
 He left them in much agitation as he con- 
 cluded, and, dejectedly, took his way to his 
 own apartment : he had reached the terrace, 
 when, a light step pursuing him, made him 
 turn his head, and beheld Edith running 
 towards him. 
 
 " Why, Cesario," said she, " I thought 
 you were resolved not to hear me ; I have 
 been running, and calling, till I am quite 
 out of breath/' 
 
 " Could you call, and I not hear you ?" 
 asked Cesario, the blood mounting to his 
 cheeks, as his eyes met hers. 
 
 " Yes, indeed," she replied, nodding her
 
 292 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 head at him gaily. " I have been looking 
 a long time for you ; when I happened to 
 cast my eyes into the valley, and there I 
 saw you walking very gravely with my 
 father, and Algernon ; so when you left them 
 I thought I should catch you on the ter- 
 race." 
 
 " Lady Edith/' exclaimed Cesario, ta- 
 king her hand, but as quickly letting it 
 drop again, " I am going to leave Rock- 
 Ledge/' 
 
 " Leave Rock-Ledge !" repeated Edith, 
 starting back, and gazing on him with 
 surprise. 
 
 " Yes, — I — I am obliged — honor calls 
 me to quit a life of useless sloth, and 
 devote my arm to my king. To-morrow 
 I go." 
 
 All Edith's lively graces fled, as, casting 
 her eyes to the ground, with a vexed air 
 she said :
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 293 
 
 " Then I might have spared myself the 
 trouble, but you shall not have it now." 
 He made an involuntary motion to detain 
 her as she turned away, but, fearing to ex- 
 ceed the bounds his rigid delicacy had pre- 
 scribed, he restrained himself, and, folding 
 his arms on his breast, a sigh escaped him 
 as he watched her retreating steps. "Then 
 you have no desire to see the present I 
 destined for you ?' said she, turning her 
 head, and half smiling. 
 
 " A present forme ?" repeated he : all his 
 prudence vanishing as he started forward 
 to take her offered hand, in which she held 
 a flute ornamented with knots of ribbons. 
 
 " Yes, I did this to please to you," return- 
 ed Edith, " I had observed you lately neg- 
 lect your flute ; and, finding it one day lying 
 on the grass, where you had carelessly 
 thrown it, I took it to my room, and decked 
 it, as you see, with my own colours, to show
 
 294 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 it was a servant of my own ; and I did mean, 
 
 too, but that is done with, as you are 
 
 going." 
 " No, dearest Lady Edith, tell me/' 
 " Why, I did mean, that you should, next 
 tilting da} r , have worn my colours, and have 
 been my knight, it would have been charm- 
 
 ing." 
 
 " And should I, might I, have worn your 
 colours ?" exclaimed the transported Cesario. 
 
 At that moment a young man, a relation 
 to Lord Adrian, appeared, and, casting a 
 bitter look at Cesario, whose superiority in 
 every manly accomplishment had ever galled 
 him, he said : 
 
 " So, my young Lady Edith, amusing 
 yourself with your minstrel." 
 
 " Not with my minstrel, my lord, but 
 my brother's friend." 
 
 " Friend ! repeated the haughty youth, 
 " he will be my friend next, I guess,"
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 295 
 
 " No, Hialmer/' returned she, "for there 
 can be no friendship betwixt such dissimilar 
 minds. 
 
 " Sweet Edith, you say right," resumed 
 Hialmer, " for what similarity can there be 
 betwixt a low-born shepherd, and Hialmer ? 
 But, come, my angelic girl, you must honor 
 your knight by bestowing your colours on 
 him at the approaching tournament; my 
 plume must boast of the olive, as well as 
 of the scarlet, or Hialmer's triumphs will 
 be incomplete.'* 
 
 " A tournament !'* repeated Edith, glan- 
 cing a look at Cesario, who stood swelling 
 with indignation, yet endeavoring to re- 
 strain himself. 
 
 " A tournament," resumed Hialmer, " at 
 which my lance must be raised in your 
 honor, or not raised at all."' 
 
 " I am grateful for the gallantry," return- 
 ed Edith, " but cannot suffer you to waste
 
 296 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 such an attention on me, when so many 
 fairer maids are desirous of the honor." 
 
 " Come, my lovely girl," returned the 
 youth with an impatient air, " though you 
 seem so desirous to conceal what all the 
 world knows," — The look of surprise which 
 sat on Edith's countenance, as she turned 
 her full eyes upon him, stopped Hialmer; 
 but, soon recovering his effrontery, he con- 
 tinued with an arrogant smile : " Every one 
 knows that Hialmer is the only one the 
 lovely Edith would wish to wear her colours 
 on that day." 
 
 Drawing herself back, Edith viewed him 
 for a moment with a haughty smile ; then, 
 waving her hand, 
 
 " So far, sir," said she, " from being the 
 only person I would wish to wear my colours 
 in the tournament, you are almost the only 
 one I would refuse them to : and I now 
 command you, as you respect the daughter
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 297 
 
 of Lord Adrian, never to offend my sight 
 by placing them on your arms." 
 
 At that instant Lord Adrian, with his 
 family, appeared, when Hialmer, endea- 
 voring to shake off the surprise Edith's last 
 speech had thrown him into, exclaimed, 
 in an angry, and agitated voice, to Lord 
 Adrian : 
 
 " I have received such treatment from 
 your daughter! — I, I really — Pray, my 
 lord, had I not your sanction, your per- 
 mission ?" 
 
 " Less heat, young man," said Lord 
 Adrian. " I told you, if you could gain 
 that place in Edith's affections her husband 
 ought to hold, — " 
 
 " Well, my lod," exclaimed the passion- 
 ate youth, " such I thought." 
 
 " You thought wrong," interrupted Edith 
 sharply ; " but to my father's tenderness I 
 commit myself," and, as she followed her 
 
 u
 
 298 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 mother and sister into the castle, cast a. 
 stolen glance at the agitated Cesario, whom 
 she saw led off by her brother. 
 
 Next morning the family assembled with 
 tearful eyes at the castle-gate, to bid adieu 
 to Cesario. 
 
 " Cruel friend," exclaimed Algernon, as 
 he embraced him, " to leave those who so 
 truely love you ; but, since it must be so, 
 and / cannot accompany you, receive, as a 
 parting gift, the steed I always ride, my 
 faithful Vivian ; he will remind you of his 
 master, whose heart will accompany you. 
 His colour is not remarkable, therefore, he 
 will be agreable to you ; as Cesario would 
 be distinguished by his deeds alone." 
 
 The grateful youth, unable to speak, 
 pressed his friend to his throbbing bosom ; 
 then, kneeling, kissed the hands of his bene- 
 factor and Lady Gertrude, and, casting his 
 eyes towards Edith, he saw her with hers
 
 FROM THE SPANISH; 299 
 
 fixed on the ground, endeavoring to con- 
 ceal the tears which trickled, unbidden, 
 down her cheeks, and, patting the arched 
 neck of Vivian, from whose back, at a mo- 
 ment of imminent danger, she recollect- 
 ed Casario had once lifted her. The 
 agitated Casario then kissed a hand of each 
 of the sisters, and, vaulting into the saddle, 
 was soon lost to the eyes of his friends. 
 
 " Josepha, and Edith, retired to their 
 apartment ; when the former, bursting 
 into a flood of tears, exclaimed, as she 
 threw herself on her sister's neck: 
 
 " Oh, Edith, why was not the noble Ce- 
 sario born to better fortunes ! — but why do 
 I wish it ! Oh ! my sister ! would I had been 
 you! 
 
 " Me, Josepha \" exclaimed Edith, con- 
 founded at her sister's words. 
 
 " Think you," proceeded Josepha, " that 
 one, so interested as myself, could long re-
 
 300 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 main blind to your mutual affection ? Do 
 not start, fear not to let a sister read your 
 thoughts, we shall never see him again, and 
 indeed, to me, his return would but bring 
 certainty of hopelessness; Edith possesses 
 his heart, 'tis her hand he would ask." 
 
 Words, such as these, from a sister, whose 
 sense, and penetration, she had ever looked 
 up to with respect, alarmed poor Edith. 
 Could it be possible that her proud heart 
 had yielded to a peasant ? But then, the 
 idea of his virtues and noble qualities, 
 soothed her pride ; yet each view of the 
 subject grieved her, and she struggled to 
 overcome her feelings, as well to satisfy her 
 own mind, as to console her afflicted sister, 
 whose gentle disposition, and tender heart, 
 fitted her but ill for struggling with a pas- 
 sion, which secret indulgence had made 
 her master. 
 
 Preparations for a grand tournament,
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 301 
 
 which the King gave in honor of the ladies, 
 soon assisted Edith's endeavors to chace 
 Cesario from her mind ; for as this was to 
 be her first visit to the metropolis, she had 
 a thousand questions to ask, and plans to 
 form, while Josepha strove to distract her 
 own thoughts by attending to her more lively 
 sister. Sometimes indeed Edith would, with 
 an involuntary sigh, regret that Cesario 
 could not be at this tournameut, but, the 
 next, would blame herself for harbouring a 
 thought on such a forbidden subject. 
 
 Early on the morning of the tournament, 
 Lord Adrian, and his son, left Rock-Ledge, 
 and, in a few hours, were followed by the 
 Lady Gertrude, and her daughters, who 
 arrived just as the King, and Queen, were 
 preparing to go to the galleries erected for 
 them at the lists. The Queen, with whom 
 Lady Gertrude had ever been a favorite, 
 stopped to speak with her; when the blush-
 
 Q 
 
 02 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 ing Edith was led forward, and bent her 
 trembling knee to the ground. She was 
 raised, and saluted by the King, and, after 
 kissing the Queen's hand, again retired to 
 receive the supporting aid of her sister's 
 arm ; while the King and Queen uttered 
 those praises, so flattering to a mother's 
 pride, and which Edith's superior loveli- 
 ness so justly claimed. The Lady Ger- 
 trude then, with her daughters, placed her- 
 self amons; the ladies surrounding; the 
 Queen, while her husband, with the rest of 
 the knights, attended the King. 
 
 Edith soon found herself at ease among; 
 the brilliant troop ; but her lively remarks 
 were stopped by the sounding of the trum- 
 pets, which announced a knight of graceful 
 appearance, who entered the lists, mounted 
 on a white horse : after taking the tour of 
 the place, and bowing to the royal galleries 
 as he passed, he placed himself at the end
 
 ritOM THE SPANISH. 503 
 
 of the lists, till some one should appear to 
 try his skill with him ; for, as the King 
 meant this to he a day of festivity, and not 
 productive of serious mischief, he had or- 
 dained that, when a knight was thrown, or 
 disarmed, or wounded in the slightest 
 manner, he should yield as conquered. This 
 knight was clothed in green and white, 
 which colors expressed the honorableness of 
 his love. His plume was green, with one 
 white feather in the midst, which seemed 
 to exemplify his device, a city on a verdant 
 bank; with the words — "As humble and 
 as fair." — He was soon recognised for the 
 Lord Mainfred, who, though recommended 
 by a constant love, and unremitting ser- 
 vices for three years, could boast no favor 
 from his mistress, the fair Josepha; whose 
 beauty and disposition, his device and 
 motto well expressed. Edith, when she 
 saw the graceful air and noble appearance
 
 304 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 of Mainfred, whispered her sister, that she 
 envied her such a knight ; Josepha sighed, 
 and, in her own mind, thought how much 
 more graceful Cesario would appear in the 
 same situation. 
 
 Mainfred did not long remain alone in 
 the lists: a knight, with a plume of olive, 
 and pink feathers in his casque, approached 
 with a haughty air; he wore a miniature in 
 the front of his helmet, so brilliantly set, 
 that it drew the general attention of the 
 company; by most of whom it was imme- 
 diately recognised for Edith's likeness. On 
 his right arm he wore an E. worked; by 
 which ornaments, and the arms he bore on 
 his shield, he was recognised for the haughty 
 Hialmer. His father, whose often-tried 
 bravery had gained an addition to the fa- 
 mily arms, had originally borne only a 
 wolf; but, signalising himself in the field 
 of battle, by tearing down the enemy's
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 305 
 
 standard, and thus turning the fate of the 
 day, he had ever afterwards, by the King's 
 permission, carried, as his arms, a wolf tear- 
 ing a banner. 
 
 Edith felt her cheeks glow with anger, 
 as she saw Hialmer enter the lists thus 
 decked : 
 
 " You seem in a reverie," said the Queen, 
 addressing her with a smile, " when you 
 ought to be returning; the salutations of 
 your knight. What are you thinking of?" 
 
 " Madam, I was wishing to be a knight, 
 that I might revenge myself on the rude 
 Hialmer." 
 
 " If your sister had spoken thus/' re- 
 sumed the Queen, " I should not have been 
 surprised, as he fights against the Lord 
 Mainfred ; but you, fair Edith, — " 
 
 The trumpets again sounded, and the 
 two knights rushed against each other. The 
 combat was maintained on very unequal
 
 306 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 terms; Hialmerbeingofasize, and strength, 
 far exceeding the graceful Mainfred, who 
 nevertheless, for some time compensated 
 for inferior power: at length, his adversary 
 pushed him so violently with his potent 
 arm, at the same time urging on his fiery 
 stead, that Mainfred was almost bent back to 
 his saddle ; while his horse, rearing to with- 
 stand Hialmer's, which pressed hard on 
 him, fell back on his master, who, stunned 
 by the fall, was carried off senseless by his 
 attendants ; Josepha's eyes were suffused 
 with tears, at the unhappy fate of a youth 
 whose amiable manners, though they had 
 not won her heart, could not fail to gain 
 her esteem. 
 
 In the mean time Hialmer, proudly walk- 
 ing his horse round the plain, bowed to 
 Edith, who turned her eyes another way, 
 with a look, which plainly evinced how 
 little pride she took in his victory. Though
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 307 
 
 her inattention was too evident not to be 
 observed, be still resolved to speak to her, 
 had not the appearance of another knight 
 claimed his notice. He was clothed in 
 blue and white, to signify vigilant in ser- 
 vice; and bore, on his shield, a human 
 heart supporting a crown, with the words, 
 " All my king's," under it. 
 
 " Sir knight," said the stranger, cour- 
 teously saluting Hialmer, as he rode to 
 him, " I come from distant lands to this 
 court, to try my skill against you : I boast 
 no favor from a lady to adorn my arms, 
 but fight for the honor of my king and 
 country." 
 
 *' It signifies not," exclaimed the impa- 
 tient Hialmer, M for what you fight: I bear 
 the portrait of her whose honor I support." 
 
 " She is but little honored by so rude a 
 champion," returned the stranger knight, 
 and, as her beauties claim a gentler ho-
 
 508 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 mage, with her permission, I also engage 
 myself in her service." 
 
 " Willingly, gentle knight," murmured 
 Edith to herself. 
 
 Hialmer then, enraged, rushed on his 
 opponent : the combat was obstinate ; but, 
 part of the trappings of the stranger's horse 
 being torn, and entangling his feet, he fell, 
 and threw his rider, who broke his lance in 
 the fall, and thus Hialmer again became vic- 
 tor,yet without any loss of honor to the strange 
 knight; who retired, making way for two 
 knights who entered the lists together. One 
 was known for a young nobleman of the 
 name of Gondabert; the other bore a rib- 
 bon on his lance, on which was worked 
 ■ — " Lindamine of Scotland/' But Linda- 
 mine's knight, as well as his companion, 
 shared the fate of those who had preceded 
 them, and retired hastily to hide their 
 shame, leaving Hialmer undisputed posses- 
 sor of the field.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 309 
 
 The King, who highly respected Hialmer, 
 both on account of his own bravery, and 
 the memory of his noble father, beckoned 
 him to him, and addressing him graciously, 
 said : 
 
 " My Lord Hialmer, you have done 
 nobly to-day, and the smiles of the fair 
 must attend you/' 
 
 " And yet the haughty Edith smiles 
 not/' returned Hialmer. " In what have I 
 offended ?" continued he, endeavoring to 
 assume a humility foreign to his heart. 
 
 Timidity at first sealed Edith's lips, but, 
 on his continuing to interrogate her, she 
 enquired why he presumed to wear her 
 portrait, when she had even refused him 
 her colors. Somewhat confused at this 
 sudden question, Hialmer made no reply, 
 when Lady Gertrude repressing her daugh- 
 ter's coming reproof with a frown, she 
 apologised, with her usual mildness, for the
 
 310 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 roughness of Edith's unqualified speeches, 
 saying, that the rusticity of her education, 
 and the bluntness of her nature, led her 
 often to say what she repented of af- 
 terwards. 
 
 " And yet," exclaimed Edith, " the af- 
 fection I feel for his respected mother, 
 makes me frequently more attentive to my 
 cousin than he deserves." 
 
 This conversation was ended, as most of 
 the others had been, by the sounding of 
 the trumpets, which had hardly time to 
 announce an opponent to Hialmer, when a 
 knight, with his shield veiled, and clothed 
 in red and white armour (signifying bold 
 in all honesty), appeared ; his horse foam- 
 ing, and himself covered with dust. Hi- 
 almer, eying his disordered appearance, 
 approached, and, addressing him, said : 
 
 " You seem but ill in a situation to en- 
 ter the lists ; when you have refreshed your-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. Sll 
 
 self, and your horse has recovered wind, 
 I am here to meet vou." 
 
 " I need no refreshment," returned th* 
 knight ; " therefore, let us not delay/' 
 
 " I shall gain but little honor, resumed 
 Hialmer, contemptuously, " by triumph- 
 ing over a foe alreadv more than half con- 
 quered by fatigue." 
 
 " No more words/' returned the stranger ; 
 and, wheeling his horse round, while Hial- 
 mer did the same, they met with a violent 
 check, while Edith ejaculated prayers, that 
 Hialmer might, at last, meet with one to 
 humble his presumption. 
 
 Hialmer soon perceived that not only 
 strength, but skill, directed his antagonist's 
 blows, who said, as he felt Hialmer retreat 
 before him : 
 
 " Come, sir, you do not put forth your 
 strength." 
 
 Insulting knight," exclaimed the en- 
 
 it
 
 312 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 raged Hialmer, " You shall feel I do," and, 
 making a desperate push at his opponent, 
 who avoided it, fell on his horse's neck, 
 and, unable to recover himself, a sudden 
 start of the animal brought him to the 
 ground, and, but for the timely assistance 
 of the strange knight (who, at the call of 
 humanity, had sprung from his), must have 
 been dragged round the lists by his head- 
 strong steed, his right foot having caught 
 in the stirrup. 
 
 At the moment when he owed most to 
 the stranger's humanity, the base soul of 
 Hialmer prompted him to an act of the vilest 
 treachery ; for, seizing the instant when, 
 leaning over him, the stranger was assisting 
 him to rise, he thrust the barbed end of 
 his lance into the generous knight's side, 
 which blow was immediately followed by a 
 torrent of blood. Justly irritated by this 
 perfidious action, which the whole company
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 313 
 
 saw, and execrated, the knight seized him 
 with a powerful grasp, and, placing one 
 knee on his breast, with the other hand 
 disengaged the portrait from Hialmer's hel- 
 met; then, remounting his horse, which 
 had stood by him during this, and taking 
 the veil from his shield to staunch the blood 
 which gushed from his wound, he turned 
 to the gallery in which the ladies sat, and, 
 for the first time, presented the face of his 
 shield to them ; when on it Edith instantly 
 recognised the exact representation of the 
 flute she had presented to Cesario, on the 
 terrace, at Rock-Ledge, a few months be- 
 fore. Under it were these lines : 
 
 " Music, within the flute, but dormant lies, 
 
 Till skilful fingers teach its powers to rise ; 
 
 So I was nothing, till the powerful charm 
 
 Of love inspir'd my breast, and nerv'd my arm." 
 
 The agitation this device, and motto,
 
 314 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 threw Edith into, must infallibly have been 
 perceived, had not the attention of every 
 one been centred in the unknown knight ; 
 whose skill and forbearance called for their 
 utmost applause. He approached the gal- 
 leries, and, after respectfully saluting the 
 King and Queen, presented the portrait to 
 the fair original, and then was silently turn- 
 ing away, when the King ordered him to 
 be invited to stay to the approaching ban- 
 quet, and have his wound dressed ; but he 
 refused, and, setting spurs to his horse, was 
 soon out of sight. 
 
 That this unknown knight was Cesario 
 did not appear doubtful to Edith, and 
 nothing could equal her delight at seeing 
 him appear in the character of her defender, 
 and Hialmer's conqueror; but his wound, 
 and the total ignorance she was in, whether 
 she should ever see him again, filled her 
 heart with anxiety; however, she resolved
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 315 
 
 to keep her knowledge of him secret, as it 
 was evidently his wish to remain unknown 
 to all but herself, to whom he must have 
 meant, by his device, to discover himself. 
 Thus her mind was a mixture of joy and 
 grief, and, during the two succeeding days 
 that the festivities lasted, she thought of 
 nothing but Cesario, and encouraged a 
 faint hope, that she should again see him 
 appear among the combatants ; but disap- 
 pointment attended her, and a fear that 
 the wound, inflicted by the perfidious Hi- 
 aimer, might have proved dangerous, con- 
 jured up a thousand melancholy reflections 
 and anxious surmises. 
 
 As soon as the diversions were ended, 
 Lady Gertrude, with her daughters, mount- 
 ed their palfreys, and guided their steps to 
 that happy home, endeared to them by the 
 absence they had suffered from it. A few miles 
 from the metropolis, they were overtaken by
 
 Sl6 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 Hialmer, attended by a numerous suite. 
 Under pretence of the hurts he had received, 
 he had not again appeared in public, after 
 his defeat by the red knight, but had waited 
 till Lady Gertrude and her daughters re- 
 turned to Rock- Ledge, that he might have 
 the pleasure of escorting them, as the Lord 
 Adrian, and Algernon, were obliged to stay 
 at court a few days longer. Edith, who, to 
 the dislike she before felt for Hialmer, now 
 added abhorrence for his treachery to her 
 favorite, allowed him to ride unnoticed by 
 her side, while her mother and sister rode 
 before them, discussing the merits of the 
 several tilters they had seen. The increasing 
 gloom of twilight, and the shade of a wood 
 they had entered, awoke Edith from her 
 reverie, and made her raise her eyes, and 
 perceive, for the first time, that they were 
 not in the path leading to Rock-Ledge. «, 
 *< How is this ?" she exclaimed.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 317 
 
 " Tis all right/' returned Hialmer, in an 
 eager voice, and, seizing her bridle, forced 
 her horse into a gallop, while his attendants 
 crowding round, cut off all hope of escape. 
 
 The terrified Edith screamed, but she 
 was out of her friends' hearing - , and she had 
 soon the horror of seeing Hialmer's castle 
 gates close on her; trembling, and almost 
 fainting, she was lifted from her saddle by 
 the triumphant Hialmer, who said, as he 
 supported her to the door: 
 
 " Recover yourself," fair Edith, this is 
 your castle — you are its lovely mistress." 
 
 " Insolent man !" exclaimed Edith, burst- 
 ing vehemently from him, " what does this 
 insult mean?" 
 
 " My love must plead for me," returned 
 Hialmer, " I have borne your coldness too 
 long, Edith, and you are now mine." 
 
 " Do you think this will do?" she ex- 
 claimed, recovering some of her haughtiness,
 
 318 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 " have I not a father, and a brother, who 
 will shake your castle to its foundation ere 
 they give me up ?" 
 
 " Lovely Edith" — he was beginning, but 
 interrupting him again, she continued : 
 
 " Is this the behaviour of a knight? Is 
 *his like the brave Lionel's son ? Even your 
 vassals and attendants blush to own such a 
 master." 
 
 " Less violence, fair maid," said Hialmer, 
 with a taunting air: " nevertheless, this 
 warmth is so becoming, that, in consider- 
 ation of it, I will consign you to my mother's 
 care, till the happy hour that shall make us 
 one." 
 
 At that moment the venerable Lady 
 Maude appeared, but started back on seeing 
 Edith, who, rushing to her, fell at her feet. 
 
 Hialmer/' at length exclaimed his mo- 
 ther, " must I again blush for my son ?" 
 
 " Spare your reproaches, madam," he in-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 319 
 
 terrupted: "to-morrow, Edith will be my 
 wife; till then she shall be your charge; at 
 supper, I attend you." 
 
 He then left them, and Lady Maude, 
 raising and embracing Edith, endeavored 
 to compose her. 
 
 " Ah, madam \" exclaimed Edith, giving 
 way to her tears, " let me depart ; have 
 pity upon me !" 
 
 " That I do pity you, my poor child, is 
 most true/' said the benevolent lady, as she 
 led her into the castle, " but that is all I 
 can do ; I have no power within these 
 walls the moment my son enters them : all 
 I can do is, to postpone the day of your 
 nuptials, and thus give your father time to 
 learn the affair, and to rescue you/' 
 
 This drew an animated expression of 
 gratitude from Edith, who, anxious to avoid 
 the sight of her persecutor, begged to re- 
 tire ; but Lady Maude, who knew the
 
 320 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 temper of him they had to deal with, advised 
 her to remain till after supper, as, by gentle- 
 ness, she might gain her petition of a post- 
 ponement of the wedding-day, but by anger 
 would certainly not. Edith, in this hope, 
 remained, and Hialmer, who wished not to 
 allow the ladies a long tete-a-tete, soon 
 re-appeared; Lady Maude immediately 
 preferred her request, by insinuating to him, 
 that Edith ought to be allowed a day at 
 least, to compose and make up her mind 
 to an event, which was to regulate her 
 whole future life ; but Hialmer was too 
 well aware of the activity of Edith's friends 
 to grant this request, and he refused it, in 
 the usual tone of haughty independence he 
 was accustomed to use to his mother, but, 
 turning with a softened air to Edith, w T ho 
 stood, swelling with indignation, he added: 
 " To-morrow, lovely Edith, must make us 
 one."
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 32.1 
 
 " Neither to-morrow, nor ever, my lord," 
 exclaimed Edith, unable to disguise her 
 feelings ; " I know, too well, what is due to 
 myself and my family, so to disgrace 
 myself/' 
 
 " This coyness is carried too far, my fair 
 one." 
 
 " Do not imagine it owns so soft a name, 
 sir, — coyness ! your conduct has called 
 forth my contempt — my hatred ! and I 
 would plunge a dagger in my breast, rather 
 than become your bride, despicable man !" 
 
 " This is unnatural, madam !" exclaimed 
 Hialmer, his eyes beginning to lose their 
 assumed softness; "your heart is pre-en- 
 gaged/' 
 
 "And, were it so," retorted Edith, " I 
 should glory in preserving my constancy to 
 the lowest peasant, in preference to you/' 
 
 " I understand you, Lady Edith," ex- 
 claimed Uialmcr, with rising fury, " the
 
 322 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 Lord Adrian's adopted son — the noble Al- 
 gernon's bosom friend — and her lover — the 
 favored lover of the proud maid who scorns 
 Hialmer; this cherished person is the vile, 
 and low-born Cesario." 
 
 " And yet, Hialmer, know, to thy confu- 
 sion !" exclaimed Edith, " that the knight 
 who conquered thee at the tournament — 
 who held thee down with a powerful arm, 
 and who received a wound from thy trea- 
 cherous hand, was Cesario, the low-born 
 Cesario, who as far exceeds thee in all 
 the noble qualities of the mind, as he 
 does in the martial exercises of the body." 
 
 Surprise and rage chained Hialmer's 
 tongue for a few instants, when, bursting 
 from the room, he exclaimed, in a voice of 
 thunder : 
 
 " If 1 live, the miscreant's head shall yet 
 adorn my castle walls." 
 
 " Forgive me, madam/' said Edith, to the
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 323 
 
 distressed Lady Maude, "but when Hialmer 
 speaks, I forget he is your son." 
 
 Lady Maude then conducted her fair 
 prisoner to a room adjoining her own, which 
 opened into a small gallery, where Edith 
 asked permission to remain, on account of 
 the sultriness of the night; Lady Maude 
 willingly consented to this, and retired to 
 her own apartment. 
 
 Edith, with eyes bathed in tears, and a 
 heart oppressed with grief and anxiety, 
 remained leaning against a window, from 
 which she could behold the turrets of Rock- 
 Ledge, which, faintly tipped by the moon, 
 were just visible above the trees in the 
 valley. All the dearest affections of her 
 heart, so soon to be invaded by the power 
 of a lawless tyrant, struggled for pre-emi- 
 nence in her bosom, and she was engaged 
 in a solemn appeal to the mercy of the all- 
 seeing Judge, when a soft step, at the
 
 324 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 further end of the gallery, made her hastily 
 turn her head, and, to her infinite terror, she 
 beheld a figure stealing towards her. On 
 the point of calling aloud for Lady Maude, 
 a voice, familiar to her, pronounced her 
 name, and withheld her: it was Hialmer's 
 page, Octavio ; he had been educated at 
 Rock- Ledge, and ever evinced the fondest 
 attachment to the whole family, but parti- 
 cularly to Edith, who was his senior by two 
 years, and who had, by her kindness to his 
 poor and infirm mother, won his utmost 
 gratitude and reverence. 
 
 " Is it you, Octavio ?" exclaimed Edith, 
 her terrors vanishing. 
 
 " Speak low, dear lady," said the page, 
 " my lord may hear ; he did not let me see 
 who he confined, but I guessed at last. 
 You must escape this night from the castle, 
 lady, or give up all hopes of it : the chapel 
 is already illuminating for your nuptials,
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 325 
 
 and, by dawn, you will be summoned 
 
 thither." 
 
 k " Oh, heaven ! Octavio" — 
 
 " Listen to me, lady; at this hour I pay 
 my mother a visit, in the valley ; in my 
 clothes you may quit the castle unnoticed, 
 and half an hour's walk will bring you to 
 Rock-Ledge/' 
 
 " And when Hialmer learns my escape, 
 will not you — " 
 
 " Oh, I shall, perhaps, be able to escape 
 too; if not, I would willingly die a thou- 
 sand deaths to save my benefactress." 
 
 " Generous Octavio, you will not want a 
 champion when I am seen at Rock-Ledge." 
 
 The page then gave her a suit of his 
 clothes which he had provided himself with, 
 and, while he waited to conduct her through 
 the upper galleries, she retired to dress her- 
 self, and soon rejoined her youthful guide. 
 They stole along the passages in silence, and,
 
 326 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 at the top of the stairs which led to the 
 servants' hall, Octavio, stopping, whispered 
 he must go no further. 
 
 '• But, dear lady, added the youth, smi- 
 ling, " you must tread a little bolder, or 
 you will be discovered, and wrap your 
 cloak round you ; draw your hat too more 
 forward, and the feather will shade your 
 features/' then, praying Heaven to bless, 
 and protect her steps, he quitted her. 
 
 With a trembling heart, but endeavoring 
 to assume the easy gait Octavio had recom- 
 mended her, she entered the servants' hall, 
 where, fortunately, not many were; as the 
 greatest part of them were employed with 
 their lord in preparing for the festivities of 
 the succeeding day. She walked through 
 without being remarked, as Octavio had 
 foretold, and soon found herself outside the 
 castle walls. She had nothing to do but 
 follow the windings of the road, which led
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 32? 
 
 through the wood, but the beating of her 
 anxious heart almost prevented her from 
 proceeding; the stillness of the night, only 
 interrupted at intervals by the rustling of 
 the trees, and the hooting of the owls, 
 terrified her ; yet half an hour's walk would 
 bring her to her friends, and she exerted 
 herself to shake off the apprehensions which 
 chilled her blood, and the glimpses she now 
 and then caught of the cliffs, on which 
 Rock-Ledge was built, inspired her with 
 new courage and strength, and she had 
 proceeded for some way, when the sound of 
 horses, rapidly approaching, made her heart 
 sink within her. She was relieved, however, 
 from some of her fears, by perceiving that 
 the noise was caused from a knight and his 
 attendant, who were galloping furiously 
 towards the castle : while she was rumi- 
 nating whether to throw herself on his pro- 
 tection or conceal herself, the moon shone 
 brightly on his device and colours, and
 
 328 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 discovered to her agitated heart her beloved 
 brother Algernon, who had just learned his 
 sister's loss, and, fired with rage, was hasten- 
 ing to Hialmer's castle to demand her, and, if 
 necessary, to make a path to her through 
 the vile ravisher's body. 
 
 "Algernon— my brother !" she ejaculated, 
 rushing forward. 
 
 " Can I believe my eyes ?" exclaimed he, 
 throwing himself from his horse, and clasp- 
 ing her in his arms ; " how came you here 
 — and in this dress ?" 
 
 " Spare me now," uttered the agitated 
 Edith, •* pursuers may even now be near — 
 let me mount your horse." 
 
 The agitation and terror of her mind was 
 so plainly marked by her pale face and 
 wandering eyes, that Algernon, to sooth 
 her, did as she desired, and a very short 
 time sufficed to bring her to her mother's 
 and sister's arms. 
 
 Next morning, Algernon, still burning to
 
 FROM THK SPANISH. 329 
 
 revenge the insult Iiialmer had put upon 
 their family, hastened to the castle, before 
 which he saw two knights, already engaged 
 in 6erce combat : he advanced, and imme- 
 diately, in one of them, recognised the man 
 he sought ; the other knight bore the well- 
 remembered device of a flute decked with 
 ribbons, which discovered him to be the 
 conqueror at the tournament. As soon as 
 he found that Hialmer was one of the com- 
 batants, Algernon rushed betwixt them, 
 exclaiming to the stranger: 
 
 " Stop, brave knight, yield to a brother's 
 rights I" 
 
 But he was not attended to ; the furious 
 Hialmer thirsted for revenge on his former 
 conqueror, and his rage had just been 
 increased by the knowledge, that Edith 
 had quitted the castle by the aid of 
 Octavio, who had also contrived to escape. 
 The red knight had sent in his defiance
 
 330 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 at a time when the bursting fury of Hialmer 
 wanted some object whereon to wreak it- 
 self; but, what were his feelings on sallying 
 forth, to behold, in his intended antagonist, 
 the knight who had been the cause of his 
 disgrace at the tournament, and whom he 
 now supposed to be Edith's favoured 
 Cesario ! 
 
 " You come as the Lady Edith's cham- 
 pion/' he exclaimed; tc she chooses the 
 renowned shepherd Cesario, to honor her by 
 her prowess ; but you come to my wish : 
 and, though I but dishonor my sword by 
 staining it with such vile blood, yet I will 
 chastise your insolence." 
 
 " The cause of honor, and of insulted in- 
 nocence, would insure conquest to a weaker 
 arm than mine/' replied the knight. 
 : They had been engaged in combat for some 
 time, before they were joined by Algernon, 
 who, finding it useless to endeavor at part-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. S31 
 
 ing them, was compelled to be an idle 
 spectator of the bloody scene. The strokes 
 of the combatants all told, and blood gushed 
 from every pore ; but the red armour, but 
 thinly streaked with white, worn by the 
 strange knight, concealed from Hialmer the 
 streams of blood which followed his power- 
 ful strokes ; nor did he even think he had 
 hurt his opponent, till the ground was died 
 with red wherever the stranger went. The 
 sight revived Hialmer, and, finding his horse 
 yielded before the red knight's, he rushed 
 furiously on him, and buried his lance in 
 the noble animal the stranger rode, which fell 
 gasping on the ground. The knight, thus 
 unhorsed, drew his sword, and continued 
 the unequal combat on foot. 
 
 " Cowardly Hialmer," exclaimed he, 
 finding his antagonist maintain his seat, 
 even thus shall I be able to revenge the 
 wrongs of the lovely Edith," and aiming a
 
 332 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 blow at him, he opened his way through the 
 armour, and pierced far into his side, when, 
 in endeavoring to withdraw the weapon, 
 it broke, and left the point buried in the 
 body of Hiahner, who sunk from his saddle 
 and, groaning a curse on his conqueror, was 
 conveyed into the castle by his attendants. 
 
 " Now," said the red knight, in a low 
 and agitated voice, to Algernon, " now 
 rescue your sister ; let me know she is safe, 
 and I die happy." 
 
 " Come to Rock-Ledge/' rejoined Al- 
 gernon, " and you will see her, as well as 
 a whole family, anxious to thank you for 
 the prowess you have exhibited in her 
 cause.'* 
 
 " Is she safe ?" 
 
 " She is ; she escaped from the tyrant 
 last night ; let me intreatyou to accompany 
 me home." 
 
 The stranger heaved a deep sigh, and
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 
 
 33S 
 
 shook his head, as, raising himself from the 
 support of his broken sword, on which he 
 had hitherto been leaning, he walked slowly 
 towards his horse, which laid extended on 
 the ground : he stood, viewing the gory 
 body, apparently in deep distress; then, 
 stroking the no longer panting sides, he 
 turned away, and was endeavoring to 
 leave the place; when a message, from the 
 benevolent Lady Maude, arrested his un- 
 steady steps, and, after a moment's pause, 
 he entered the castle, but fainted, ere the 
 gates closed, in the arms of the servants ; 
 while Algernon rode home, wondering why 
 the strange knight should prefer receiving 
 hospitality from the mother of the man he 
 had killed, to that offered by a family he 
 had evidently wished to oblige. 
 
 What were Edith's feelings as she listened 
 to her brother's account of what had passed ! 
 Perhaps Cesario had lost his life in her
 
 334 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 cause ; the shyness he exhibited of making 
 himself known, pointed out to her attached 
 heart the necessity of her concealing her 
 discovery of him ; for that the red knight, 
 and the shepherd Cesario, were the same 
 person, she entertained not a doubt ; every 
 circumstance strengthened the supposition, 
 his grief at the death of his horse, which 
 had been his friend's parting gift, his choos- 
 ing to accept Lady Maude's invitation, 
 rather than Algernon's, every thing added to 
 her certainty of his being her Cesario, and 
 she waited with impatience for the moment, 
 when he should think proper to disclose 
 himself. 
 
 The Lady Maude's tears alone bedewed 
 the grave of her unnatural son, whose be- 
 haviour to her, from infancy, had rendered 
 him but little deserving such a tribute of 
 affection; but he was her only child, the 
 sole support of his father's name and ho-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 335 
 
 nors, and what parent does not forgive the 
 faults of an only child ! The faithful Oc- 
 tavio, who had been sheltered at Rock- 
 Ledge from his master's anger, now returned 
 to the castle, where he was kindly received 
 by the afflicted Lady Maude, who kept 
 him in her service, and employed him in 
 waiting on the wounded knight, who was 
 in such a state of weakness, that few hopes 
 were entertained of his recovery. 
 
 Joy now took her station at Rock-Ledge ; 
 the nuptials of Algernon, with his long be- 
 loved Eloresta, were to take place in a few 
 weeks, and Mainfred, whose vows had never 
 wandered from Josepha, claimed the reward 
 of his long, and unshaken constancy, and, 
 supported, as he was, by all her friends, as 
 well as her own good sense, which told her 
 she could never make a more deserving 
 choice, she no longer resisted. The cere- 
 monies which were to give Algernon and
 
 336 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 Mainfred all they most-loved, were to take 
 place at the same time, and to be celebrated 
 by the most brilliant festivities. 
 
 " It is very odd, though," thought Edith, 
 as she attended the brides in their prepara- 
 tions for the approaching solemnities, " that 
 Cesario,now he has signalized himself, should 
 still be so loth to appear; but, we shall 
 see him at these gaieties : I shall watch for 
 the device I so much love/' 
 
 Affection for Josepha induced the Lady 
 Maude to be present at the festivities ; a 
 proposal, which came from herself, to the 
 gratification of all her friends. The sun 
 that rose on this joyous day was brilliant, 
 and unclouded; canopies of green silk were 
 spread over the stages erected for the 
 ladies, and for such visitors as were only 
 spectators of the martial exercises : Edith, 
 though delighted with the scene, and the 
 gaiety she saw on every countenance, but
 
 FROM THK SPANISH. 337 
 
 especially on those of her brother, and 
 sister, vet forgot not the red knight, whom 
 she fully expected to see enter the lists, 
 as Lady Maude had assured her he had 
 quitted her castle, completely cured of his 
 wounds ; the jousting however had be- 
 gun some time, and all those who intended 
 to be present, had long arrived, and still he 
 did not appear. Suddenly the sound of a 
 horn startled the company ; this announced 
 a messenger in the royal livery, who, ad- 
 vancing to Lord Adrian, delivered a iikv 
 sage from his royal master, importing, that 
 he had intended to surprise the fair brides, 
 by offering his congratulations in person, 
 on this joyful day, but that he had been 
 prevented, and had sent, as his proxy, one 
 of his most favorite knights, distinguished 
 for personal bravery, and high birth, whom 
 he trusted would be a welcome visitor at 
 Rock-Ledge, and allowed to try his skill
 
 338 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 with the rest of the knights. Adrian has- 
 tened to meet, and welcome this distin- 
 guished knight, who was thus announced 
 by the King himself, and who approached, 
 followed by a splendid retinue: he was 
 clothed in a scarf of green, shot alternately 
 with black and yellow (to signify joy and 
 honor), while his golden armour glittered in 
 the sun, and his whole appearance was so 
 splendid, and majestic, that a murmur of 
 admiration ran through the company as he 
 advanced ; but scarcely had this subsided, 
 when it was succeeded by one of surprise, 
 at the sight of his shield, which bore the 
 well-remembered arms of a wolf, tearing a 
 banner, which were, since the death of 
 Hialmer, supposed to be unclaimed. 
 
 The King's Knight, as he was called, 
 having remounted his steed, which he had 
 quitted on meeting the venerable Adrian, 
 took the tour of the area, and saluted the
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 339 
 
 ladies, who rose to do him honor ; then, 
 having refused to take any refreshments, 
 the business of the day proceeded. The skill 
 and dexterity displayed by the King's 
 Knight, in carrying off all the prizes, soon 
 claimed the attention and admiration of all 
 the company except Edith, to whom each 
 passing hour brought disappointment and 
 vexation ; and who, after the first view of 
 the sumptuous stranger, again gave her 
 eyes up wholly to watching for the red 
 knight, and she felt her spirits rapidly sink- 
 ing, and her countenance every moment 
 more unwilling to assume a gay air. 
 
 The collation was at length served, and 
 all eyes turned eagerly on the King's 
 Knight, who, as he gracefully laid down 
 his plumed casque, displayed to their in- 
 quisitive eyes, a face familiar to all, and 
 most dear to some. The last eyes to look 
 on him were Edith's, but the first to recog-
 
 340 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 nize him for the beloved Cesario she had 
 been soanxiously watching tor : asudden and 
 joyful exclamation had scarcely shewn her 
 heart's recognition of him, ere Algernon, 
 springing forward, and viewing him eagerly, 
 rushed into his arms. 
 
 " At length, dear Algernon," exclaimed 
 the agitated youth, " I may yield to the 
 emotions of my bosom, and clasp you to 
 my beating heart :" then, kneeling to Lord 
 Adrian, he kissed his hand, whilst his joy- 
 ful benefactor embraced him affectionately^ 
 and the Lady Maude, hastening to them, 
 gave the following explanation of the scene. 
 
 On Cesario's (for it will be hardly neces- 
 sary to say, that the red knight and Cesa- 
 rio were the same) being conveyed into her 
 castle, after his combat with Hialmer, she 
 soon discovered that he was the shepherd 
 who had been educated at Rock-Ledge; 
 and further, that he had been reader,
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 341 
 
 from infancy, by the old shepherd Basil, 
 which she then learnt for the first time. 
 This information disclosed to her that he 
 was in fact her late lord's son by a former 
 wife of humble birth, but superior beauty 
 and virtues ; that, when he was a child of 
 five years old, she, the lady Maude, had 
 caused him, during an absence of his fa- 
 ther, to be concealed from the world and 
 his doating parent, by a false account of 
 his death ; as, by that means, her son Hial- 
 mer, then an infant, would be sole inheri- 
 tor of his father's honors and riches. The 
 plan succeeded — no one doubted the truth 
 of the young Lionel's death, and, in Hial- 
 mer, was centred all the hopes of his de- 
 ceived father, who died soon afterwards on 
 the field of battle. Struck with remorse, and 
 humbled by the sorrows that had lately af- 
 flicted her, the Lady Maude disclosed to 
 the wounded youth the secret of his birth ; 
 and as soon as he was sufficiently recovered,
 
 S42 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 sent him privately to the king, with such 
 testimonials of his birth as were indubita- 
 ble. The sovereign had restored him to 
 his honors, and taken the opportunity, of- 
 fered by Lord Adrian's tournament, of in- 
 troducing him to his former friends in his 
 new character. 
 
 " And now, my brave Lionel," proceed- 
 ed the Lady Maude, " hasten to pay those 
 vows publicly where in secret they have 
 long been offered." 
 
 The youth was then embraced by the 
 Lady Gertrude with maternal tenderness, 
 while Edith stood leaning on her sister's 
 arm, pale and trembling. 
 
 " Another day she will be more elo- 
 quent/' said Algernon, as he placed her 
 hand in that of his friend ; and the festi- 
 vities then celebrating, were in a few weeks 
 repeated, to solemnize the happy ceremony 
 which united the fair Edith, and her brave 
 and constant Lionel.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. S43 
 
 DORISTEA'S FORTUNE. 
 
 A TALE FROM THE SPANISH. 
 
 In royal Seville, whose commerce is 
 carried to the four quarters of the globe, by 
 its rich galleons and opulent merchants, 
 lived a magistrate, whose name was Alex- 
 ander; he was of Genoa, and one of the 
 most noble in that city. At Seville he had 
 married a rich and high-born lady, by whom 
 he had one daughter, called Doristea ; 
 whose mother died in giving her birth. 
 
 The lovely girl, when she reached her six- 
 teenth year, was adorned with every grace 
 which a fond father could view with pride 
 and delight ; but, in the extraordinary love 
 he bore her, originated all the misfortunes
 
 344 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 she afterwards experienced ; indeed such is 
 frequently the case; for the jealous love of 
 the parent often leads him to prevent the 
 approach of suitors, lest she may be in- 
 duced to quit him. Many gentlemen had 
 asked Doristea's hand in marriage, but he 
 had always evaded their requests by saying, 
 that she was too young, and that, besides, 
 her rank and fortune gave him reason to 
 aspire to a title for her; hence he died be- 
 fore he had formed a suitable establish- 
 ment, and, in preference to several other 
 relations, he left her to the cafe of her 
 maternal aunt, Donna Estifania, who pos- 
 sessed ten thousand ducats, and loved her 
 niece so fondly, that she meant to leave her 
 all she had, in addition to the riches her 
 father had bequeathed to her. 
 
 In the same city lived a gentleman, 
 whose high birth compensated for his want 
 of fortune; he had a son named Claudio :
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 345 
 
 this youth was as much admired for his 
 rare personal endowments, as he was held 
 in contempt for his depraved inclination ; 
 he had gambled away his father's an- 
 cient patrimony, and, to add to the already 
 Ions; list of his crimes, he was concerned 
 in a robbery which had been committed in 
 Seville, for which offence he had been 
 seized by the hands of justice, and several 
 other charges being brought against him 
 to make the accusation heavier, it cost his 
 father six thousand ducats to liberate him 
 — and also his life ; the shock, and the 
 great anxiety he had endured for the fate of 
 his onlv child, having occasioned his death. 
 The licentious young man was now, as 
 he had often wished to be, free from con- 
 trol ; but so poor, that he merely sub- 
 sisted on what he was able to get at the 
 gaming-table. He was grieved, that he 
 
 z
 
 3A6 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 had no more estates to stake, and it sud- 
 denly struek him, that the rich Doristea's 
 fortune would relieve his necessities ; ac- 
 cordingly, confiding in his indubitably no- 
 ble birth, and personal graces, he offered 
 her his hand. Donna Estifania answered 
 him with the contempt his well-known cha- 
 racter justified, telling him she wondered 
 how he dared demand her niece's hand, 
 when his disposition and poverty were such, 
 that the lowest servant in her house would 
 not accept him for a husband. Stung se- 
 verely by these and many other taunting 
 comments, Claudio thought only of re- 
 venge ; and feeling certain, that nothing 
 would so completely gratify his passion as 
 to gain possession of the young lady her- 
 self, and her fortune, he immediately put 
 into execution a plan which he had con- 
 ceived, and which so well succeeded with
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 347 
 
 the unsuspecting Doristea, that he soon 
 found himself possessed of that heart which 
 he less than any one deserved. 
 
 Donna Estifania could not long be blind 
 to the empire he had contrived to acquire 
 over her niece's affections, and immediate- 
 ly began to arrange an union for her with a 
 rich Indian, who was among her train of 
 suitors; and, apprehensive of the loss of 
 any time, told Doristea that, in two days, 
 the nuptials must be celebrated ; assur- 
 ing her that she would take care every 
 thing should be ready by that time. The 
 enamoured damsel concealed her vexation 
 as well as she could, but, when evening 
 came, she found an opportunity of giving 
 her false lover a paper, which she desired 
 him to answer directly : he retired to read 
 it, and found it contained an account of 
 what had passed, and an oner to fly with 
 him from the threatened marriage, as no
 
 348 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 one but himself should be her husband. 
 In his answer, Claud io of course expressed, 
 in tender words, his sense of the honor she 
 did him, but insinuated that, as he was 
 himself unblessed by the smiles of fortune, 
 it was proper that she should bring away 
 with her as many jewels, and as much 
 money as she could. He carried back this 
 answer, and, next day, the deluded girl took 
 the opportunity, while her aunt was gone 
 out, to take, from an escrutoire, more than 
 eight thousand ducats, in splendid doub- 
 loons, and rich jewels : her lover was wait- 
 ing beneath the window; she told him 
 to spread his cloak, and, wrapping a 
 towel round the stolen treasure, threw it 
 to him, telling him to expect her that 
 night, when the family were retired to 
 rest. Claudia could have been well con- 
 tented with the booty, but he was re- 
 solved more seriously, and deeply, to dis-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 349 
 
 tress, and revenge himself on, the aunt; 
 therefore, hiring two mules, he desired one 
 of his companions, as profligate a wretch 
 as himself, to wait with them at the gate 
 of Rosario ; telling him (for there can be no 
 real confidence among such characters), 
 that a friend, who was going to Cremona, 
 had requested him to conduct a person to 
 him that night. 
 
 When Donna Estifania returned from 
 her visit, she gave her niece a string of large 
 pearls, to which was attached an ornament 
 of diamonds, telling her that it was a pre- 
 sent from the lady she had been to invite 
 to her wedding. Doristea received it with 
 delight, as it would be an addition to what 
 she had to bestow on her lover. When the 
 family had retired for the night, she quitted 
 the house, and soon reached the place where 
 her arch enemy was in waiting for her, with 
 the mules. Having placed her upon one,
 
 350 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 and himself, and the portmanteau contain- 
 ing her treasure, on the other, thej' set out 
 full speed, and, after travelling all night, 
 they arrived at length among some gloomy 
 mountains, with the intricacies of which 
 he was perfectly acquainted, having often 
 taken refuge there from the pursuit of jus- 
 tice ; he continued to wind among them, 
 till he had reached their very heart, 
 when lifting the lady from her mule, he 
 said : 
 
 " As I am fatigued, we will stop here, 
 for I must rest myself/' 
 
 Certain that she was now wholly in his 
 power, by her inability to thread the mazes, 
 through which he had conducted her, he 
 laid himself beneath a towering rock, down 
 which a chrystal stream flowed, through 
 the black and blue stones. Here he slept 
 long, unmindful of the treasure in his pos- 
 session ; and, having refreshed himself suf-
 
 *ROM THE SPANISH. 351 
 
 ficiently, eyed her with a contemptuous 
 glance, as he said : 
 
 " What, weeping? This is a fine begin- 
 ning, trulv !" 
 
 " Can you be surprised at my tears, when 
 you treat me with such contempt ?" 
 
 " Contempt is what you deserve," re- 
 plied the tyrant, t; did I take you from 
 your home to make you my bride, think 
 you ? No — It was a nobler revenge on your 
 doating aunt ; you deserve not to be my 
 wife, after thus boldly throwing yourself 
 into my power/' 
 
 " How ! ungrateful Claudio !" exclaimed 
 the terrified lady, u is this your treatment 
 of me ? Is it thus you return the confidence 
 I placed in you ?" 
 
 " It was not you I thought of," replied 
 he. " Your relations affronted me, I wished 
 to be revenged, this was the best way, and 
 the only drawback on my triumph is, that
 
 352 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 you did not bring away with you more 
 money, for others, more deserving than 
 yourself, to enjoy. Faith, I am half inclined 
 to send you back to your superannuated 
 aunt, that you may conclude your robbery, 
 and bring away more treasure, which I may 
 bestow on one who shall please me bet- 
 ter, when I am tired of you." 
 
 " For God's sake take all I brought," 
 exclaimed the weeping Doristea; " although 
 you are mistaken in affirming it is so little; 
 there is more than the worth of eight thou- 
 sand ducats in what I gave you; only, do 
 not insult me, and every thing else is of 
 small consideration with me." 
 
 " Do you take me for a fool ?" he rejoined ; 
 " no, no, I will not lose the best part of 
 my revenge." 
 
 " Wretch !" exclaimed Doristea, " rather 
 than bear your insults, I [will receive my 
 death from your cruel hands."
 
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 H 
 
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 £ 
 
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 as 
 
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 FROM THE SPANISH. 553 
 
 At that moment a gentleman, who had 
 been a concealed spectator of this scene, 
 rushed forward, exclaiming : 
 
 " Young man, how dare you offend Hea- 
 ven, by insulting this lady ? Base wretch! 
 to offend such beauty ! you shall not do so 
 with impunity, while I have an arm to wield 
 in her defence/' While the stranger spoke, 
 Claudio moved silently to get his pistol, but 
 Doristea's noble protector seized him with 
 one hand, while, with the other, he drew one 
 from his own belt, and, firing it, laid his 
 opponent dead at his feet, saying, as he did 
 it, " There is no attending to etiquette with 
 a brute/' 
 
 Doristea bathed the feet of her deli- 
 verer with the warm tears of gratitude, 
 but he interrupted the effusions of her 
 heart, by prudently reminding her, that 
 neither the time, nor place, were proper for 
 thanks; and, placing her on the saddle, he 
 also mounted, and taking the portmanteau
 
 O i 
 
 ^04 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 with them, they soon found themselves 
 clear of the mountains. At the end of 
 four leagues, they reached an inn, where a 
 servant of the gentleman was waiting, to 
 whom, without alighting, he said : 
 
 " Proceed slowly on this road, and wait 
 for your companion ; I will expect you at 
 the house, which you know, I generally put 
 up at." 
 
 He then rode on. When they arrived at 
 the place the gentleman intended to stop 
 at, he enquired for a room ; giving out that 
 Doristea was his sister, and that, one of their 
 servants having missed them, they intended 
 to wait for him there. He then advised Doris- 
 tea to take some rest, and, after conducting 
 her to an apartment, locked her in, and re- 
 turned to the house-door to enjoy the fresh 
 air, as the heat began already to be ex- 
 tremely oppressive. Having ordered what- 
 ever they had best in the house for dinner, 
 he fell into conversation with the other tra-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 355 
 
 vellers, who had dropped in, and, in the 
 course of it, led them, as if by chance, to 
 understand that he was going to place his 
 sister in a convent at Ubeda. 
 
 The servants being now arrived, and 
 he, wishing to remain there that night, 
 ordered dinner to be carried in to his com- 
 panion, giving strict orders for them to lock 
 the door afterwards, and bring him the key; 
 he then ordered another apartment for him- 
 self, and, by this apparent carelessness of 
 her company, avoided giving the strangers 
 any suspicion of the truth of his story. 
 Next morning he arose before day, saying, 
 as the heat was then moderate, he intended 
 to travel at that hour to oblige his sister, 
 and asked if there were any sort of convey- 
 ance to be had. 
 
 " If you were going to the court, sir," 
 replied the hostess, " you would be able to 
 get a return carriage." 
 
 " It is important that I should go the
 
 356 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 contrary road," returned the prudent gen- 
 tleman, " but, perhaps, money will over- 
 come the difficulty : send the master to me, 
 and let me try if we cannot contrive some- 
 thing/' 
 
 The good woman, diligent in every thing 
 which concerned herself, went directly for 
 her brother, who was master of the inn. 
 When he came, taking him aside, the gen- 
 tleman told him that, in reality, his journey 
 was to the court, but as he had been so 
 unfortunate as to kill a person of some con- 
 sideration, and had run away with a lady, 
 whom, to save from disgrace, he had called 
 his sister, he trusted to his prudence to get 
 them a conveyance. 
 
 " Nothing excites my curiosity now," 
 replied the man ; " we see strange things 
 every day, and we are silent, so do not 
 be uneasy, sir, I doubt not but I shall find 
 some person to take you.' v 
 
 " You may rely on being well rewarded
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 357 
 
 for your trouble/' returned the gentleman, 
 "set your enquiries on foot immediately, 
 for I must be expeditious/' 
 
 Some doubloons, well applied, soon put 
 them on their road. 
 
 On the second day of their journey, the 
 gentleman felt curiosity to know who he 
 was thus carrying off, and, in hopes that 
 she would satisfy him, he desired the driver 
 to take them to an agreable spot some way 
 from the road, where they might dine in the 
 open air. As he was well paid, the man 
 made no difficulty of obeying any com- 
 mand of his employers, and conducted them 
 to the entrance of a thick grove of oaks : here 
 Doristea and her protector seated themselves 
 in the shade, and the gentleman, perceiving 
 that his beauteous companion had been 
 weeping, said, 
 
 M I fear, madam, you have thought me 
 uncivil in not having told you, ere now,
 
 358 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 who it is that has had the happiness of 
 being of service to you, but your safety has 
 hitherto wholly engrossed me ; that is now 
 secured, and, if you think me worthy of 
 being trusted with your name, I shall be 
 grateful for your confidence, and be ready 
 to serve you to the utmost of my power : 
 rejoiced in the ability to aid one whom I 
 already so much admire, I can almost 
 pardon the offender who caused me the 
 happiness I now enjoy." 
 
 He paused, and Doristea, finding he 
 waited for an answer, said, 
 
 " I do not wish to forget the obligation I 
 am under to you, sir, for which, believe me, 
 I am indeed most grateful ; but I own that 
 it would be a gratification to me to know to 
 whom it is I am about to disclose the secrets 
 of my afflicted heart." 
 
 " Every thing you wish to know," replied 
 her companion, " I must take pleasure in
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 359 
 
 communicating. I am the only son of a 
 gentleman of some consideration, Don Juan 
 Mauriquez, who is now at the court in ex- 
 pectation of receiving a title from his 
 majesty : I have one sister, who, before I 
 saw you, I thought was the most handsome 
 woman the as;e could boast. Next door to 
 us lived a gentleman, with whom we had 
 no acquaintance; but it happened one 
 night, that, having won considerably at 
 play, as I returned home late, I was sur- 
 rounded, and attacked, by several men, 
 who intended either robbery or murder, 
 probably the latter, had not this gentleman 
 been also returning home, and placed him- 
 self beside me, exclaiming, 
 
 " ' Don Carlos, Heaven has sent me to 
 your assistance/ 
 
 " His servants also joined us,and, out of the 
 six villains, only two remained to ask quarter. 
 We carried the gentleman to his house, to
 
 360 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 look at his wounds, and, when lights were 
 brought, I felt such a strong liking for 
 him arise in my breast, that I know not 
 whether to attribute it to his extraordinary 
 graces of person, or gratitude for the life he 
 had saved. He told me his name was Don 
 Luis de Guzman; that he possessed five 
 thousand ducats, with the order of Alcan- 
 tara, which hung at his breast, and that he 
 was engaged in a law-suit about an inhe- 
 ritance, which, if he gained, he should enjoy 
 another three thousand. He told me all 
 this before I took leave, when, although my 
 house was so near, yet, recollecting what 
 had just passed, he would not suffer me to 
 go unattended by his servants. The account 
 I gave my father of Don Luis's courageous 
 defence of me, brought on an intimacy 
 betwixt us, which soon grew into a strict 
 friendship; and, not long afterwards, he 
 took courage to own to me, that he loved
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 36l 
 
 my sister Fulgencia, but that be dared not 
 ask her of my father, knowing that the 
 dislike he had to part with one so dear to 
 him, had made him refuse many superior 
 offers ; yet hoping I would give him my 
 interest, as he knew, whoever I took the 
 pains to recommend would be accepted by 
 her. I immediately proposed him to my 
 father, representing to him the benefits that 
 would arise from connecting our family with 
 one so powerful and noble as that of Don 
 Luis. I succeeded ; — they were married, 
 and lived for four months in my father's 
 house, my sister glorying in her choice, and 
 every day bringing fresh proof of her hus- 
 band's affection. At the end of that time 
 Don Luis, having gained his law-suit, wished 
 to carry his bride to his own estate, and 
 invited me to accompany them to witness 
 the festivities the arrival of my sister would 
 occasion : I had long wished to visit Seville, 
 
 A A
 
 362 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 and, of course, took care to see every thing 
 worth notice there, in the month I staid with 
 them, which passed away so pleasantly, 
 that, had it not been for the recollection 
 that my father was all that time alone, and 
 in want of my society, I should not even 
 then have returned to the court. In the 
 hurry of departure I forgot a box of relics, 
 which I valued particularly ; I immediately 
 sent a servant back for it, and the moun- 
 tains appearing to offer a delightful retreat 
 from the increasing sultriness, I resolved to 
 ramble among them till my servant's return, 
 while my other attendant went forward to 
 prepare dinner at the inn, where I intended 
 to pass the day. I cannot enough bless my 
 fate in bringing me thither to save vou from 
 the insults of your vile enemy : if it is agre- 
 able to you to accompany me, I will en- 
 deavor to serve you, so as to prove how 
 much true respect and love I bear you,
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 36*3 
 
 though the sincerity of such a declaration 
 may fairly be doubted on so short on ac- 
 quaintance." 
 
 While Don Carlos was giving this account 
 of himself, Doristea was revolving in her 
 own mind whether she ought to tell him 
 who she really was, as Don Luis de Guz- 
 man had been one of her suitors during her 
 father's life-time; having made up her 
 mind, she said, when he had concluded: 
 
 " Senor Don Carlos, my parents, though 
 not titled, are sufficiently honorable to rank 
 with the first nobility : my name is Clara de 
 Quiros, but, as I wish not to disclose all the 
 particulars of my unhappy story, I trust 
 you will not press it. It is impossible for 
 me to return home, as, too surely, my father, 
 in his first rao;c at seeing me with a son- 
 tleman, who, though he has bravely saved 
 my life, and, I am sure, would do so again, 
 yet is one to whom I ami necessarily, in-
 
 364 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 debted for every thing, would take that life 
 you so generously have protected, I am 
 grateful to you for the kindness you honor 
 me by expressing, but, at present, let me 
 beg you not to add to my distress, while 
 my heart is yet full of the dreadful remem- 
 brance of having seen that man killed before 
 my eyes, whom I once madly thought 
 deserving of my whole heart, and, for whose 
 sake, I broke every dear tie which bound 
 me to my family; but, as you have seen 
 me brave death rather than insult, I hope 
 you will feel that I would gladly dare 
 that, and every other distress again, rather 
 than add to the disgrace I have already 
 incurred." 
 
 Her tears flowed as she concluded, and 
 her lover in vain tried to console, and 
 soothe her into composure. 
 
 " Signora Donna Clara," said he, " rather 
 than cause tears to dim your eyes, which arc
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 
 
 it 
 
 65 
 
 already enshrined in that heart over which 
 vou reigm, I would lose mv own. Oh! how 
 highly shall I be indebted to fortune, if 
 she have given me the opportunity of gain- 
 ing your favor?" 
 
 Don Carlos then ordered his servants to 
 bring them the refreshments that had been 
 prepared ; and soon afterwards they resum- 
 ed their journey, that they might finish it 
 early in the day. 
 
 Before he went to his father, Don Carlos 
 recommended Doristea to the care of a lady 
 of his acquaintance, telling her she should 
 be her lodger for a little while, with many 
 charges of the greatest care and attention, 
 at the same time recounting, in a summary 
 manner, what had passed. Donna Laura 
 was well calculated for the confidence thus 
 placed in her, and, though the intimate 
 friend of his father, and sister, yet very wil- 
 ling to take charge of the friendless
 
 366 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 Doristea. While Don Carlos was paying 
 his respects to his father, the attentive 
 widow ordered her servants to prepare a 
 bed, and fresh clothes, for the fair stranger, 
 while (seeing her deep melancholy) she 
 endeavored to console her, by repeated 
 assurances of her noble protector's amiable 
 disposition. The careful lover, meanwhile, 
 sent his servant out to purchase different 
 delicacies for Doristea's supper, and, when 
 they brought him word that every thing was 
 ready, he excused himself to his father, 
 under pretence of fatigue, and hastened to 
 her, who already occupied every thought ; 
 he took an opportunity, during his visit, 
 of requesting Donna Laura to keep the 
 whole affair secret from Don Juan, who 
 must, in such a case, he said, be expected 
 to think like an old man. The house of his 
 father was very large, and as Don Carlos was 
 never in want of money, he had given reins
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 367 
 
 to his fancy in adorning an apartment, more 
 in the inner part than Donna Laura's, and 
 had filled it with such costly furniture, that 
 Doristea, to whom it was allotted, soon dis- 
 covered her lover's liberality, and taste. In 
 one of the escrutoires she placed all the 
 jewels she had brought, saying, that she 
 should touch not one of them, as all she 
 possessed would be but a poor recompence 
 for what she had received. She also found 
 in her apartment four elegant dresses, 
 with every other thing requisite, either for 
 ornament or use. Her heart thus daily 
 receiving fresh attacks, she found herself 
 obliged to assume a coldness foreign to her 
 feelings, that her growing partiality might 
 not be too easily perceived by her lover; 
 who, deceived by this appearance of care- 
 lessness, and dissatisfaction, thought of no- 
 thing, but devising fresh amusement to 
 divert, and please her.
 
 368 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 One day, Doristea, glowing with grati- 
 tude for so many acts of* kindness, wished 
 to show him some little attention in return, 
 and asked him if it were possible to get a 
 harp ? 
 
 " It is not then sufficient, ' he exclaimed. 
 M to be conquered by beauty, and modesty, 
 but accomplishments also must be brought 
 forward to rivet mv chains." 
 
 An instrument was soon procured, to 
 which, after preluding on it with grace, 
 and skill, she sung the following words j 
 
 " Of passions winch our life can feel, 
 That which no skill, no heart can heal, 
 Is — Oh ! my l>eating heart reply — 
 To love in silence — and to die. 
 Excuses from my love I trace 
 In every feature of his face, 
 In every action of his heart, 
 Which only deeper sends the dart;— 
 Oh ! tell me, Cupid, how I may 
 My debt of gratitude e'er pay ?
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. S6'9 
 
 Alas ! no other way appears, 
 But sighs, and bitter filling tears ; 
 The only way which still can show, 
 To cure my deep and poignant woe, 
 Is — Oh ! my beating heart reply- 
 To love in silence — and to die." 
 
 Don Carlos could hardly believe he had 
 heard aright ; if he had, she surely returned 
 his love ; fearful, however, of giving offence, 
 he did not give utterance to his hopes, but 
 begged her to proceed, and she immedi- 
 ately complied. From that time he found 
 himself forbidden to urge his passion ; as, 
 whenever he did, the subject seemed galling 
 toDoristea, who would often tell him, that he 
 did indeed make her remember how he had 
 found her; at length, on her again address- 
 ing something of that sort 'to him, he said : 
 
 " Signora Donna Clara, I have endea- 
 vored to treat you with a delicacy that 
 would satisfy you; and as you know this is
 
 V 
 
 370 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 my wish, and, that my love is most sincere, 
 the continued melancholy and coldness 
 you keep up in your behaviour to me, is 
 both cruel and unnecessary. You have 
 now resided here six months, without my 
 having once exceeded the bounds prescribed 
 by the strictest respect: if you intend to 
 kill me by your extreme rigour, I shall 
 almost be tempted to regret the narrow 
 limits by which I have allowed my love to 
 be confined/' 
 
 He spoke this with such a seriously mor- 
 tified air, that the lady was much embarrassed 
 how to answer him ; for her heart whisper- 
 ed he was right: at length, with great 
 hesitation, she said : 
 
 " I cannot deny the great obligations I 
 owe to you, Senor Don Carlos, but I 
 cannot think of love, till I have wholly 
 overcome the grief which still preys on me; 
 yet, I will confess that you possess my
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 371 
 
 heart, and that the coldness and pride you 
 complain of, is the effect of the tenderness 
 I feel, and yet ought not to indulge : I 
 hope this confession will not disgrace me 
 in your eyes, for, believe me, I am but too 
 sensible of what I owe you." 
 
 Such a speech could not fail to calm, 
 and soothe the lover's perturbations ; and, 
 to avoid the fear of offending her, he begged 
 her to sing to oblige him ; she took her harp, 
 and began to sing the following song, just 
 as Donna Laura, who had been out, en- 
 tered : 
 
 i. 
 
 " One day upon the green sward dancing, 
 
 Her eyes with joy's bright lightnings glancing, 
 
 Julia play'd ; 
 Some pearls among his ringlets straying, 
 Cardenio, by the maiden straying, 
 Saw unbraid.
 
 372 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 II. 
 
 " While for her pearls my Julia's weeping. 
 To one within her bosom sleeping, 
 
 1 aspire ; 
 Her hair of gold, with Zephyr sporting, 
 Her eyes to pleasing danger courting, 
 
 Tune my lyre. 
 
 m. 
 
 " Thus while the swaiti 's his love expressing. 
 In tender words his hopes were dressing, 
 
 Julia smil'd; 
 The gentle sigh auspicious seizing, 
 This damsel, every fear appeasing, 
 Grief beguiFd. 
 
 IV. 
 
 u Then sweetly thus together singing, 
 As round her elm, the ivy clinging, 
 
 Seeks relief; 
 So we, through life's uncertain measure, 
 Seize, as it comes, each fleeting pleasure. 
 And know no grief."
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. S?3 
 
 "' I envy Cardenio/' said Don Carlos. 
 
 " Why so," returned Doristea, " when 1 
 confess to you that I return the affection 
 with which you honor me ?" 
 
 " You would be very wrong if you did 
 not, madam/' joined in Donna Laura. " In- 
 deed, I have often wondered at your cold- 
 ness, when I consider the merits of Don 
 Carlos, and his truly delicate behaviour.*' 
 
 Donna Laura had two sisters; one, whose 
 name was Leonora, and the other who was 
 a nun: Doristea frequently accompanied 
 Donna Laura in her visits to the convent, 
 and, with her, the amiable sister had 
 laid aside her devotional character; there- 
 fore, to her, she resolved to speak, as she 
 plainly saw that Donna Laura was the 
 friend of Don Carlos, and therefore, that she 
 must expect no aid from her, should he 
 become unfortunate. 
 
 *' Is i agreable," said she to Donna
 
 374 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 Laura one day, " to visit the convent ? I 
 wish to see Donna Inez." 
 
 Willing to oblige her fair friend, Donna 
 Laura immediately accompanied her thither; 
 being arrived at the grate, she said, gaily, to 
 Donna Inez, after having saluted the other 
 nuns : 
 
 " I must run away with you into ano- 
 ther room, that these ladies may not hear the 
 sweet things I have to say to you." 
 
 " By all means," they replied, laughing, 
 "for if we did, we should be tempted to envy 
 Donna Inez." 
 
 When Doristea found herself alone with 
 the nun, she opened her whole heart to 
 her ; related every part of her melancholy 
 story without disguise, and added, as she 
 concluded, with a flood of tears : 
 
 " Indeed, I am in a most dangerous situa- 
 tion ; for Donna Laura declares openly for 
 Don Carlos ; I cannot, I do not wish to
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 375 
 
 deny that I esteem him as highly as his 
 merits deserve, and that I should feel a 
 separation most deeply : yet I know I ought 
 to fly, when 1 remember that one of his 
 rank, lord, as he is, over numerous vassals, 
 and who will soon possess a title, cannot in- 
 tend to offer his hand to me, whom he found 
 first under such unfavorable circumstances. 
 I trust in your friendship, therefore, to con- 
 trive how I may be able to enter this con- 
 vent, without loss of time, unknown to any 
 one: I have told you what money I possess ; 
 by taking the veil I shall show my relations, 
 that though. I have been weak enough to 
 commit one fault, yet that I know how to 
 do honor to my family, by an exalted act 
 of atonement." 
 
 Donna Inez did not interrupt the weeping 
 narrator, but, when she had finished, said ; 
 
 " Do not doubt me, my friend, till you 
 find I have betrayed your confidence; I 
 
 «
 
 3?6 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 will be as expeditious as possible in this 
 affair, as I fully comprehend the urgency 
 of it, You shall find refuge here (as 
 you have chosen this convent) in less 
 than two days : when you are within these 
 walls, you can disclose to Don Carlos your 
 real name, and story, by which means you 
 will be able to judge, whether he loves you 
 "with a sincere affection; or whether it is 
 only a fleeting passion, which fills his heart. 
 In the mean time, I will relate what you 
 have just told me, to the Lady Abbess, 
 (for we must never treat religion with dis- 
 respect,) and may you succeed in all your 
 undertakings as fully as I wish. 
 
 Doristea was charmed with the nun's 
 prudence, and, recommending the greatest 
 possible dispatch to her, took leave. 
 
 In less than the allotted time, the careful 
 Inez had arranged every thing, and sent a note 
 to Doristea, to let her know that she might 
 
 •
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 377 
 
 come directly. On the receipt of this, 
 Doristea told Donna Laura, she was soing; 
 to visit a neighbour; then, taking her money 
 and jewels, and wrapping herself in her 
 cloak, attended by a maid-servant, set out 
 for her future abode. When she found her- 
 self alone with the lady, to whose house, 
 she had told Donna Laura, she was going, 
 she begged her to permit one of her ser- 
 vants to accompany her a little farther: 
 Doristea's manners had always so much 
 winning sweetness in them, that every one 
 loved her, and the lady offered to accom- 
 pany her herself. This politeness Doristea 
 refused, only begging her to keep it se- 
 cret from Donna Laura, as she meant 
 merely to play a little trick on Don Carlos, 
 for having been jealous. She then departed 
 saying, she should soon be back again; 
 and, having arrived at the convent, she 
 directed the servant to return to Donna 
 
 B B
 
 378 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 Laura, and to tell her that she intended 
 remaining at the Magdalen, therefore, not 
 to be alarmed at her absence. This mes- 
 sage arrived, just as her lover was enquiring 
 where she was gone. He was almost fran- 
 tic on hearing Doristea's message, and, 
 without saying a word, darted away to the 
 convent, and enquired for Donna Inez. 
 She immediately attended him, and, as 
 she presented him a paper, said : 
 
 " I know, Senor, that at present you 
 are angry with me; therefore, I will not in- 
 trude upon you; but when you are ac- 
 quainted with the contents of this note, 
 which is from your faithful Clara, I think, 
 you will exculpate me from all blame." 
 
 Don Carlos resolved to be calm till he 
 had read the paper, and having hurried 
 home, and related to Donna Laura, what 
 had passed betwixt her sister, and himself, 
 opened the note, and read as follows :
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 3/9 
 
 " Although I had resolved not to discover 
 my real name, and rank to you, yet, as 
 Donna Inez advises me to do so, and I am 
 the more willing to obe}', as it will clear 
 me from the imputation of ingratitude, 
 which you might otherwise think me guilty 
 of, though my heart can never forget the 
 obligations I am under to you, I will in- 
 form you that my real name is Doristea. 
 I am a native of Seville, and daughter of 
 the late much-respected magistrate Alex- 
 ander, and Donna Escolastica Pardo, of 
 Santozo. As Don Luis de Guzman is your 
 brother-in-law, I refer you to him, for what 
 is wanting in this short account." 
 
 " So then," exclaimed Donna Laura, 
 " she has deceived you after all." 
 
 " And, I cannot blame her for it," answer- 
 ed Don Carlos. " Consider under what cir- 
 cumstances we first met, among mountains ; 
 how she was on the point of becoming the
 
 380 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 prey of a villain; and I, a total stranger 
 brought her thence. But since she has 
 been induced to treat nie now with open- 
 ness, perhaps, she may also be prevailed 
 on to bestow her hand on me, since she 
 must know the truth of my aifection, and 
 does in some part return it." 
 
 Don Carlos then went to his own room, 
 and calling his servant, ordered him to get 
 a post-horse immediately, while he wrote 
 a letter. 
 
 " And," continued he, " you must re- 
 turn to me directly for it. I wish you to 
 go to Seville, and not to be absent more 
 than eight days ; travel, therefore, with 
 the utmost dispatch, and, if you bring 
 back the news I wish, you shall be re- 
 warded to the utmost of your desires, for 
 the expedition you have used." 
 
 The servant soon performed the journey, 
 and, having reached Don Luis's mansion,
 
 FROM THE SPANISII.> 381 
 
 delivered his master's letter, saying, that 
 be was only to wait till he could have an 
 answer. Don Luis, and his lady, having 
 dismissed the man to take some refresh- 
 ment, eager to know the contents, opened 
 the letter, and read it. Don Luis was 
 extremely surprised at the anxiety express- 
 ed by his brother, to be informed of every 
 thing concerning Doristea, as he menti- 
 oned nothing of what passed ; however, he 
 sent him the following answer: 
 
 " I am rejoiced to find, that you know 
 where is the lady, about whom you write ; 
 for she has been missing from Seville for 
 some time, to the great alarm of her friends ; 
 and, although I do not like to speak slight- 
 ingly of any female, and, especially, one 
 of superior rank, yet, as you desire parti- 
 culars, I must give them to you." He then 
 related every thing concerning her elope- 
 ment with Claudio, concluding with these
 
 382 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 words : — " The day after her flight, ser- 
 vants were dispatched every way in search 
 of her, but they only found the base se- 
 ducer's body among the mountains; no 
 intelligence being gained of the lady, it 
 was rumored that robbers had murdered 
 her, as well as Claudio, for the jewels and 
 money they had with them. Her portion 
 would have been more than twenty thou- 
 sand ducats, besides what would have been 
 given her by the aunt with whom she lived. 
 Her father, Alexander, was one of the most 
 learned men in Genoa. Her relations are 
 among the most noble, and most illustrious 
 inhabitants of this city ; and one more addi- 
 tion I must make, her beauty was so extra- 
 ordinary, that it captivated even me ; I once 
 demanded her of her father, but he refused 
 me, as he did many others, saying, that a 
 title was not more than his daughter might 
 expect*
 
 PROM THE SPANISH. 383 
 
 The contents of this letter made Don 
 Carlos almost crazy. He flew to his father's 
 apartment, exclaiming : 
 
 " Oh, my lord, if you value my life, 
 read this letter." 
 
 Don Joan was astonished at this be- 
 havior in his son, whose demeanor was in 
 general serious, and respectful ; however, 
 he took the offered paper, and, having read 
 it, said : 
 
 " Then I am to understand, from Don 
 Luis's answer, that you have been making 
 enquiries relative toDoristea ?" 
 
 " I have/' he replied. 
 
 " And what is this affair?" enquired the 
 prudent father : " Do not dread my anger, 
 but tell me truth; I doubt not, from what 
 Don Luis says, but that she is of high rank, 
 and very rich ; but then, this Claudio, I 
 want to know who he is." 
 
 Don Carlos immediately related every
 
 384 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 thing that had passed, from his first provi- 
 dential meeting with Doristea, to her flight 
 to the Magdalen, saying, as he concluded : 
 
 " She has now been with me six months, 
 continually besieged by my attentions and 
 passion, yet has never once forgotten her own 
 dignity, and the reserve of her sex, and was 
 so fully resolved to maintain it, that, had I not 
 known before that she could prefer death 
 to insult, I should have called her cruel; 
 for, within these ten days, she has with- 
 drawn herself to the convent, whence 
 she sent me the note, which caused my 
 enquiries to Don Luis, and, since then, I 
 have never been able to obtain an interview 
 with her, nor has she even answered my 
 letters." 
 
 " What you say surprises me," rejoined 
 Don Juan ; " yet I am pleased to find that 
 you have behaved with some prudence. 
 To be sure, it 4s not much in her favor, to
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 385 
 
 have broken every tie she possessed, for the 
 love of a man she, evidently, knew but little 
 of; but then, to be able to prefer death 
 to insult from him, and to quit you, though 
 she loved you, forces me to admire her: 
 let us go and see her, for I must have her 
 under the same roof with me/' 
 
 Don Carlos fell at his father's feet, ex- 
 claiming: 
 
 " Oh, sir ! to be in love is to be mad." 
 
 Don Juan raised him, smiling, and, hav- 
 ing ordered his carriage, sent a servant to 
 the convent to announce their visit: they 
 weje received, with much cordiality, by the 
 Lady-Abbess, who, on Don Juan begging 
 her to send for her ward, said: 
 
 " I assure you, Senor Don Juan, it fs no 
 little mark of my respect for you if I obey; 
 for the young lady is so amiable, that the 
 whole convent will grieve at her departure, 
 to which, I suppose, this visit is a prelude."
 
 386 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 " No doubt but it is," replied Don Juan, 
 " but have the goodness, madam, to allow 
 her to come to the porter's lodge, that I 
 may have a perfect view of her/' 
 
 This was done, and when the fair novice 
 approached, joy had illumined her eyes, 
 and heightened her beauty to such a degree, 
 that Don Carlos exclaimed, as he viewed 
 her, with increasing admiration : 
 
 " Although that habit has cost me much 
 anxiety, I must still admire it; that plain 
 linen veil adorns you more than the most 
 gorgeous apparel." 
 
 " I must always appear to advantage," 
 she replied, " to such partial eyes." 
 
 " Then I fear, my dear daughter," joined 
 in Don Juan, " that mine are not less so; 
 for you appear so charming to me, that, 
 were I younger, I should be tempted to 
 steal his bride from Carlos." 
 
 The nuns were charmed with this gal-
 
 TltOM THE SPANISH. 387 
 
 lantry, and the happy lady herself ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " Since you honor me with the title of 
 daughter, sir, you must allow me the privi- 
 lege of one, and let me kiss my father's 
 hand." 
 
 " Take them both, my dear child," he 
 replied, holding them out, " I already find 
 I can deny you nothing." Then, seating 
 her beside him, he took a valuable ring from 
 his finger, and placing it on hers, said : " As 
 I shall be father at the wedding;, I ought to 
 give the ring." 
 
 The extraordinary joy which filled Doris- 
 tea's bosom, made her, as well as her lover, 
 silent, which Donna Inez perceiving, said : 
 
 " Don Carlos, have you nothing to say on 
 this occasion ?" 
 
 " I wait for permission from my Lady- 
 Abbess." 
 
 " You may draw nearer, then, for the 
 Lady-Abbess gives you leave."
 
 388 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 " Do not be surprised, madam," said he, 
 as he approached, " at my silence, for every 
 thing appears a dream to my bewildered 
 senses ; but my Doristea knows my heart; 
 to her note I owe the happiness I now 
 enjoy." 
 
 "Then I rejoice that she was prevailed 
 on to write it," said Donna Inez. 
 
 Doristea was now able to join in the con- 
 versation, and, before they took leave, 
 begged that some of the furniture in her 
 apartment might be sent to adorn her cell ; 
 they promised this, and it was soon with 
 her. 
 
 Don Juan, not wishing Doristea to quit 
 the convent till the day of her marriage, 
 that there might be time for the prepara- 
 tions necessary for such nuptials, visited her 
 every day in her retirement, and was conti- 
 nual iy sending her such presents, that the 
 whole sisterhood partook of his munifi- 
 cence.
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 389 
 
 The happy day being at length arrived, 
 Don Juan and his son, attended by twenty- 
 four carriages, full of nobles and gentlemen 
 with twelve chairs, occupied by the most 
 distinguished ladies, arrived at the convent, 
 to fetch her to her own house. Their admi- 
 ration of her beauty heightened the pride 
 of Don Carlos, while his joy was every 
 instant augmented by the congratulations 
 of his friends. 
 
 In two months from the solemnization of 
 the nuptials, his Majesty bestowed the title 
 of Duke on Don Juan, who took his title 
 from one of his numerous estates. He chose 
 to reside at Seville, that he might not be 
 separated from his beloved daughter, and, 
 besides, that he might add fresh lustre to 
 his daughter-in-law's relations, by his own 
 dignity ; they therefore wrote to Don Luis, 
 and Donna Fulgencia, desiring them to 
 prepare a house for their reception, and 

 
 390 TALES ORIGINAL AND 
 
 requesting the latter to call upon Donna 
 Estifania, and to relate every thing that 
 had happened to Doristea during her long 
 absence; this being done, the happy aunt 
 soon spread the intelligence among her 
 friends and relations. 
 
 As the whole story was now publicly 
 known, it came to the ears of the base 
 Claud io's uncle, a man so poor, that he 
 could scarcely support his large family: he 
 felt himself very much aggrieved by the 
 murder of his nephew, so Don Luis was 
 commissioned to arrange the affair as well 
 as he could ; this he contrived by present- 
 ing the old man with two thousand ducats, 
 and, having gained a pardon from the 
 King, the usual fines were paid, and the 
 affair was at an end. 
 
 Don Juan lived four years to enjoy his 
 new dignity, and the happiness of his 
 children : so beloved by his daughter-in-
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 391 
 
 law, that, bad his other children proved 
 unkind, he would still have thought himself 
 happy in her tender affection and duty. 
 At the expiration of that period he died, 
 leaving his son and Doristea to inherit his 
 fortune and his title. 
 
 finis. 
 
 lirettell 4' Co. Printers, 
 MiraluiU-Street, Golden-Square, London.
 
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