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With truer aim or deadlier !

All silent stood Sir Geoffrey he,
My arrow split his corslet thin,

But thus Sir John spake, low and hoarse:
His shirt of mail, and heart within ; “ Alas, alas, no more for me,
He took a plunge, and on his head Nor for my hapless kinsman here,
Pitched at Sir Geoffrey's feet-stone dead. Is need for aught of manly gear :
Then all the Paynim chivalry,

Keep, kind Sir Roulf, your lance and horse,
Who fought so stoutly round about, Conquer alone, kind friend, for we
Seemed stricken with some witchery; I fear me much on holy shore
For, loosing bridle suddenly,

Shall sword or lance need never more!
They broke away in reeling rout, Conquer alone, kind friend for we
And like a bursten water-spout,

Are prisoners to this corse !" The burst near swept us by.

~ 'Tis heavy news,” Sir Roulf, he sighed, I scarce can tell what happ'd till when A somewhat blenched, as he repliedI found myself, for fear and joy,

“ The dogs have doubtless cause to hold Tears shedding, like a very boy,

Such lances freedom very dear;
And both the noble gentlemen

But let not present lack of gold,
Whom I had deemed so surely slain, Whate'er it be, cast down your cheer :
Beside me standing, safe again ;

I'll freely pawn
While swatbed in dust and flashing far, “ Alas! alas !"
At distance raged the flying war. 'Twas thus the good Sir John replied;
And there that kingly corse beside For all the time Sir Geoffrey was
We stood alone—and all that tide In sorrow dumb; quite stupified.
I knew not for my joyous tears,

“ Alas, alas, my generous friend, Or what we did or what we said,

Gold cannot belp us; hope is none,
Save that my hands were clasped in theirs, Save in our lady's grace alone:
While witless thanks to Heaven I paid; Heaven, in this strait, may us befriend,
For ah, my heart was filled with fears, But hope in man is gone!
So wan they looked, so wild and dread. Withdraw a little space, I pray,

At last across the hooff-toss'd land And Guy, he said, come listen too :
We saw sweep back the English band; I and my kinsman, poor De Grey,
And still we saw, amid the dust,

Charged late upon this damned crew,
Bright in the van, the silver wolf And levelling lance in luckless day,
Which lit the helmet of Sir Roulf, Were both borne down in the mellay.
Which lights, and long will light, I trust. Then as beneath our charger's weight
With welcome loud and long embrace, We lay, expecting instant fate,
And friendly smile on bloody face, That Arab prince beside us stood,
Poured they around the barons twain : Who yonder welters in his blood,
Sir Roulf himself was first to strain Turned fromourthroats his troopers'knifes,
His rescued friends in welcome grim- And terms proposed to spare our lives.
In full grim welcome, for he stood Ah, life growssweet when death's decreed,
From neck to heel, emboss'd in blood, We thought of England, and agreed.
Though sound himself in lith and limb His captives now, we both have sworn,
" Now by Saint James," he cried, and here To journey forth upon the morn
His words are yet fresh on my ear, Unto his home, and thither bear
“ Now by Saint James of York, I vow, His corse—for he, by magic, knew
I'd liefer make this rescue now,

His death at hand-which leaving there,
Than have the fairest two domains Our vow compels us to renew
That merry England all contains ! Our fearful pilgrimage, where'er
These coward dogs, Sir Geoffrey, be His guards shall lead us; and prepared
In somewbat lighter horsed than we; Is convoy strong of guide and guard,
But of their light hoofs, trust me, some To bear us to those realms afar
Go lighter by their riders home.

Where dwells the King of Kandahar,
But come, fair gentlemen, again

Whose daughter by some savage knight I see them muster on the plain :

Is challenged as his prize in fight, Now if ye have desire to shiver

Unless ere Baal's mystic morn One other lance on unbeliever,

Some champion foil him : we have sworn Or cleave one other pagan skull

To do good battle, man to man, If such, my lords, your pleasure be, On her behalf with that Soldan; To ride in my poor company

“ But oh my friend, Sir John," he cried, Would make my honor's measure full. “ I now had liefer I had died, Ho, horses, lances here, I say,

Than e'er lay Christian lance in rest For the Lords Lacey and De Grey!" At pagan sorceress' behest!

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For that she is some sorceress,

But what within that outside gay
Some loathsome witch, I well can guess; Might be, I did not see to say;
Who, if we should escape this foe, For on we went, the dead man left
(Some wizard giant, well I know,) Whom of the same I had bereft;
Can, by the force of obscene charms, But no man knew 'twas I who drew
Stye us for life in brutish forms-

That day the palace spoiling yew,
Yea, that 'tis all some damning plan Else had I paid a fearful due.
Of the arch enemy of man,

And so we still kept journeying on
Is plain—but, with the help of heaven, Towards the rising of the sun,
By holy men will both be shriven By land and sea: a spicy gale
This night, and then, come weal or woe, Lay three days on our galley's sail,
As we have sworn we'll do it so.”

And landed us 'mong bulkier men Then for the first Sir Geoffrey spake: And taller than the Saracen: « And tell in England, that we dared These, too, we left, and saw at last These deadly snares and trials hard," The azure tops of mountains vast, “Alone"-I thought myheart would break; But cross'd great ocean-streams, that And so I answered_« not alone,

spawned Sweet master, while my father's son Monsters of full strange shape and size, Has life and limb to risk with you: (Sea-devils all, by my surmise,). I'll serve you still, come what so may, And many a dun glade yellow-lawned, As still I've been I'll be alway,

Of bladed grass as tall 's my head; In joy or sorrow, flight or fray,

And trees of leaf so long and broad, Your loving servant old and true." As never saw I equalled ; Both knights denied; but urging hard We passed there and a toilsome road Upon my knees at last-for I

Of tedious weeks, before we came Was fixed with them to live or die Into full prospect of the same; The boon I prayed for was conferr'd: These mighty hills so wondrous high And so, returning to the camp,

Bared their blue summits to the sky; I worked all night by light of lamp, Yet all this time, our guards and we Having all needful things prepared Never changed word of courtesy. For our wild journey: and next morn At length, when lost in bodings drear Forth with sore heavy hearts we fared, And wonder at the strange things round With many a mourning friend along, We rode one morning, on the ear Farewells and keepsakes rude among,

Came all at once a mighty sound To yield us to the dogs unshorn, As of a shouting crowd far off; Whose dead king, stiff and stark, was borne The startled guides gave spur and rein, By turns by twenty yeomen strong; And on we prick’d, o'er smooth and And fifty men at arms there were,

rough, A goodly show of spears, that rode Until upon a palmy plain With parleying trumpet singing clear. We saw at last a palace fair, And flag of truce displayed abroad. About whose courts and alleys rare And now when we had prick'd adown Of slender pillars light and long, The slope before their wakeful town, Was swaying eagerly a throng Forth from that buzzing hive they poured, Innumerable, that heaved and pressed The yellow-belted wasps; each one About one court above the rest, All glittering in the morning sun; Encircled by a crowd-piled fence, Then from each troop a herald spurrid, And so unseen of us, from whence And soon thereafter we, amid

Sudden the song of trumpets rose, A cloud of Arabs swart, were hid Then tramp of steeds and stun of blows From sight of Christian face, and thus And shouts and yells of triumph shrillBegan our journey perilous ;

Our guards did but make haste the Which lasted over hill and dale,

more; And mountain dun, and desert pale, Nor they nor we drew rein, until And rolling river deep and wide,

We stopped a vestibule before; Through five weeks rapid travel rude ; Nor they nor we drew breath at all And all that time nor guard nor guide Until we entered--what a hall! Used tongue of Christian understood : Tonight there was a sunset proud At last, deep in a scented wood

With crowning pall of fiery cloud; We saw the dead king's shining home: Into whose crimson chambers far It glittered o'er the sleek broad leaves, Could one have walked, the ærial roof With many a spire about the dome Of yellow flake and golden bar, Of gilded top and fretted eaves.

And side wall of the red mist woof,

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And floor of waters clear and smooth, “ Fair lady, by our God, we'll do
Most like a crystal brimming cup, Whatever men may to succour you!".
Whose golden concave trembles up, “ We will, we will,” Sir Geoffey cried ;
A pendent glory! there in sooth, And there the good knights, side by side,
Could hardly him have dazzled more, Stood while she gave them sobbing
Than did that hall of tapestries

thanks :
Of all the sun-flame's glorious dies, And then the heralds led us forth
Hanging again within a floor

Again, down lanes of gazing ranks Of slabbed and lucid porphyries, Of pagans black, and pagans swarth, Which double figures floated o'er And red men from the ends of earth, Than did that purple paradise

Who thronged the court where was the Amaze and daze my dazzled eyes.

foe In midst there stood an ivory throne,

To combat whom they so had sworn,
Which all with great carbuncles shone ; And who already on that morn
And a fair lady beautiful,

Had wrought to many a champion woe,
Whose presence made its splendor dull, And whom till now we dreaded so,
Who was the dead king's lady lone, Not having seen; and it was here,
Robed all in saffron sat thereon.

Somewhat to raise our drooping cheer,
Her face was wondrous bright, and shed We had first sight of that Soldan
A moonlight lustre o'er her hair,

Flashing green flames against the sun-
Which darkly clustered down, and spread A wondrous sight to look upon,
In soft bands o'er her shoulders fair; A wondrous sight; for horse and man,
Unnumbered jewels did she wear,

From helm to heel, and head to hoof,
But sooth, although till then, I ne'er Were clad in shirts of scaly woof,
Had seen such gems and rubies rare Close fitting as mine easy hose,
As blazed around her every where,

Yet limber on the limbs as those;
I was not, in that presence bright, And all of glassy green scales wrought,
So dazzled by the jewels' glare,

As trim as on a lizard's back :
As by her eye-like face of light,

Nay, till I saw Sir Geoffrey hack
And eyes, beyond compare !

Through scale and rivet sheer, I thought
And, good Sir John, whoe'er had seen That magic bad indeed supplied
Thy reverent gaze and altered mien, To each a natural dragon-hide.
Had asked no witchcraft to divine So blazing stood that champion proud,
What thoughts of witchcraft then were Bright contrast to the dusky crowd
thine.

Of goggle dwarfs, and grinning priests,
Both knights I think I still can see, And slaves that gloomed in swarthy cloud,
With helmet doff'd, and bended knee, From the grey backs of mountain beasts,
Lay at her feet their proffered swords, Whose horrid conclave frowned around
While he who bore the dead kings' The far end of the tournay ground.
words

“ Ha noble Lacy courage yet,” 'Gan tell her, as it seem'd to me,

Cried stout Sir Geoffrey, as his eye
How her true knight was slain in fight, First freely scann'd their enemy.
And so her champion could not be; “ Ha, noble Lacey, courage yet:
But that, in lieu thereof, he sent

By heaven, I thought to see him set
The captives of his sword, who were On some red dragon, breathing fire,
Bound by their solemn covenant

Backed by a Griffin-mounted squire !
To peril life and limb for her.

I thought to see some giant tall,
I say 'twas thus it seemed to me, With double heads and twenty hands,
For she, at first, wept bitterly;

To tear us into shreds withal-
Then, as there came another shout But would I e'er may see lands
Of triumph from the crowd without, So sure, as into pieces small
With piteous looks of prayer, and speech I'll hack the Pagan where he stands !"
Sobbing and quick, but musical,

Ah, courage, dwarfeth giant foes !
With white clasp'd hands, and eyes withal Sir Geoffrey in his stirrups rose,
Needing no tongue, did she beseech

(They had drawn lots who first should An earnest space, the help of each;

run,
Then sudden stopp'd in perplexed fit, And him the chance had fallen upon,)
And seem'd abashed to think of it. Strong as ten men in might of scorn :
But up sprang Sir John Lacey, who « Blow, villains, till your cheeks be torn!"
Although he did not know her tongue, Cried he, as changed the marshal's horn;
Yet well her face's language knew, “ And Lacey, in this hour of need,
Up sprung he, and cried loud and strong, Pray me God speed !"

my

Into the flank the spur he drave, For, fast as threshers' blows came down And ran his course--ah, Baron brave; On leaping sheaf, Sir Geoffrey pour'd He was a rider stiff and stour,

The springing battery of his sword And stood the shock like iron tower; About the quivering Pagan's crown, But though he kept his seat so well, Who bore up bravely fighting yet, He shook not yet the infidel.

Though reeling from each shock he Both lances to the rests were riven ;

met, And now a second time, among

Until at last, quite stunned and spent, The shouts of the astonished throng, Beneath his bulk his body bent, Fresh staves to both were duly given; Down came the blows withouten let, A second time the trumpets rang, And flashing, down he went! Forth sprang they to the charge once more; Forth thundered an exulting shout But ere had ceased the trumpet's clang, From all the friendly Persian crowd, Horses and riders, all the four,

While from the Sultan's savage rout, With reeling leap and spurning bound, Rose yells of rage and curses loud Were rolling wide upon the ground. The swart dogs with their clenched Sir Geoffrey pitched beyond the coil

fists, Of the wild plunging steeds, and so Blaspheming each his conquered god; Sprang forth unhurt; but fierce turmoil While heralds rushed into the lists, Of struggling hoofs perplexed his foe, And lifted painfully the load Who rose at last with crippled gait, Of trailing limbs and body broad, Of all his plumes and braveries peeld; Slack dangling arms and hanging head Leaving, besides, beneath the weight The battered infidel was dead. Of his stark horse's flank, his shield; For though his wondrous armour gave But dauntless still his crook blade drew; No entrance to the sword edge keen, Sir Geoffrey plucked his long sword out, Its scaly chainwork scarce could save His shield away indignant threw,

His flesh from Shearer's dint, I ween; And leaped upon him with a shout- So, though on all his body's bulk, • Saint George for merry England_ha!' From no cut wound the blood was shed; Saint George! what noble blows I saw Yet it so close with bloody whelk, Both deal upon that listed ground ! And livid bruise was overspreadNor need to see, for, by my word, That when his clinging mail at last You might distinguish by the sound Was stripped away, you would have The blows of each : the Pagan's sword

thought Sang shrill and clear, as every stroke All over shoulders, neck, and breast, Upon the polished steel was broke; A net of crimson cords was wrought. But down when came the answering blow, But, comrades, bark! the castle bell Red Shearer's voice you then might know Chimes midnight: when we meet again Hoarse brawling through the splintered I'll tell you further what befel scales,

The Princess and her champions twain : That sprang at every stroke he made, Meantime, to bed; ho! strike a lightAn emerald jet about the blade,

Reach me my staff--and so, good night. As thick as chaff beneath the fails;

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" Oh! what authority and show of truth
Can cunning siu cover itself withal!"

Much Ado ABOUT NOTHING.

“ Where art thou? What impenetrable cloud
Hides thee from justice, thou grim murderer !
On whoin the dead man's blood, the quick man's tears
Now call with two-fold vengeance ? Drive him forth,
O Fear, into the light, and I shall know him,
Soon as my eye meets his.”

Wilson.

CHAPTER II.

A very short time was sufficient to hour of trial, for as he sought to look, complete the refection of the worthy with steady and unquailing eye, upon Herr Hermann, both in lungs and sto the officer who was busied in taking mach: : a few minutes of zealous and the depositions of the host and his devoted application expended in trans- wife, and making out the proces ferring a reasonable quantity of the verbal,' the expression of horror and vintage of the Gironde into the latter, disgust with which he saw he was induced that member to "hold out as regarded, chilled his heart, and, unable the diplomatic slang would term it, “the to abide the look of his examiner, he most friendly assurances of an amicable turned his eyes to the earth in the disposition, while the silence and calm stupor of utter hopelessness. which necessarily accompanied the It was just then that he felt his hand operation restored his wind machinery pressed by that of some person whom to its original excellent efficiency. he did not distinguish, and as he raised

All being now in order, and our his eyes once more for the purpose of attention solicited by a deep drawn discovering who it was, and, as it sigh, which told as much of recent might be, seeking for some friendly satisfaction as of anticipated exertion, protector amongst that fearful crowd the German thus proceeded with his of enemies that surrounded him, he narration.

recognised, by the military uniform

which he wore, that the surgeon of the It would be impossible for me to demi-brigade, quartered at Andernach, describe to you the feelings of horror stood beside him. and desperation which overwhelmed The gaze of scrutiny, with which the mind of the wretched Prosper, this man regarded him, was so peneas returning consciousness gradually trating, so stern, so annihilating, that brought to him a knowledge of his it crushed again the scarce reviving situation. There he sat, to all appear- spirit of the unhappy youth ; his whole ance, a midnight plunderer, and Great frame shook with a cold convulsive God! a thousand times more dreadful, tremor, and his head sunk helplessly a blood-stained assassin, convicted too, upon the back of his chair; a bottle of upon proofs so clear and irrefragable, smelling salts was, however, quickly that none could entertain a doubt of procured, and one of the soldiers who his guiltiness. He was innocent, it is stood by, having forced him to respire true, but alas! the consciousness of it, he again recovered the animation that being so did not sustain him in this seemed well nigh extinguished for ever.

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