THE LOVER'S ROCK.

The bitterness of wounded vanity
That with a fiendish hue would overcast
His faint and lying smile. Nor vaio ber fear,
For Hamuel vow'd revenge, and laid a plot
Against her virgin fame. He spread abroad
Whispers that travel fast, and ill reports,
Which soon obtain belief; how Zillal's eye,
When in the temple heaven-ward it was raised,
Did swim with rapturous zeal, but there were those
Who had beheld ihe enthusiast's melting glance
With other feelings fill'd;—that 't was a task
Of easy sort to play the saint by day
Before the public eye, but that all eyes
Were closed at night;-that Zillal's life was foul,
Yea forfeit to the law.

Shame-shame to man,
That he should trust so easily the tongue
Which stabs another's fame!

The ill report
Was heard, repeated, and believed, -and soon,
For Hamuel by his damned artifice
Produced such semblances of guilt, the Maid
Was judged to shameful death.

Without the walls,
There was a barren field; a place abhorr'd,
For it was there where wretched criminals
Received their death; and there they built the stake,
And piled the fuel round, which should consume
The injured Maid, abandon'd, as it seemd,
By God and Man. The assembled Bethlemites
Beheld the scene, and when they saw the Maid
Bound to the stake, with what calm boliness
She lifted up her patieot looks to Heaven,
They doubted of her guilt. With other thoughts
Stood Hamuel near the pile; him savage joy
Led thitherward, but now within his heart
Unwonted feeliugs stirr'd, and the first pangs
Of wakening guilt, anticipating Hell.
The eye of Zillalı as it glanced around
Fell on the murderer once, and rested there
A moment; like a dagger did it pierce,
And struck into his soul a cureless wound.
Conscience! thou God within us! not in the hour
Of triumph dost thou spare the guilty wretch,
Not in the hour of infamy and death
Forsake the virluous! They draw near the stake,-
And lo! the torch!-hold, hold your erring hands!
Yet quench the rising flames !--they rise! they spread!
They reach the suffering Maid! oh God protect
The innocent one!

They rose, they spread, they raged ; The breath of God went forth; the ascending fire Beneath its influence bent, and all its flames Ja one long lightning-flash concentrating, Darted and blasted Hamuel,-him alone. Hack!-what a fearful scream the multitude Pour forth!-and yet more miracles! the stake Buds out, and spreads its light green leaves, and bowers The innocent Maid, and Roses bloom around, Now first beheld since Paradise was lost, And fill with Edeu odours all the air.

De la Pena de los Enamorados. Un moco Christiono estava cautivo en Granada, sus partes y diligencia eran tales, su buen término y cortesia, que su amo hazia mucha confiança dél dentro y fuera de su casa. Una bija suya al tanto se lo aficiona, y puso en él los ojos. Pero como quier que ella fuesse casadera, y el moco esclavo, no podian passar adelante como deseavan ; ca el amor mal sa puede encubrir, y temian si el padre della, y amo dél, lo sabia, pagarian con las cabeças. Acordaron de huir á tierra de Christianos, resolucion que al moço venia mejor, por bolver á los suyos, que á ella por desterrarse de su patria: siya no la movia el deseo de hazerse Christiana, lo que yo no creo. Tomaron su camino con todo secreto, hasta llegar al peñasco va dicho, en que la moça cansada se puso á reposar. En esto vieron assomnar á su padre con gente de acavallo, que venia en su seguimiento. Que podian hazer, ó á que parle bolverse ? que consejo tomar ? mentirosas las esperanças de les hombres y miserables sus intentos. Acudieron a lo que solo les quedava de encumbrar aquel penol, trepando por aquellos riscos, que era reparo assaz flaco. El padre con un semblante sanudo los mandó abaxar: amenaçavales sino obedecian de executar en ellos una muerte muy cruel. Los que acompanavan al padre los amonestaven lo mismo, pues solo les restava aquella esperança de alançar perdon de la misericordia de su padre, con hacer lo que les mandava, y ecbarseles á los pies. No quisieron venir en esto. Los Moros puestos a pie acometieron å subir el peiusco: pero el moco les defendió la subida con galgas, piedras y palos, y todo lo demas que le venia a la mano, y le servia de armas en aquella desesperacion. El padre visto esto, hizo venir de un pueblo alli cerca vallesteros para que de leros los flechassen. Ellos vista su perdicion, acordaron con su muerte librarse de los denuestos y tormentos mayores que temian. Las palabras que en este trance se dixeron, no ay para que relatarlas. Finalmente abraçados entre si fuertemente, se echaron del peủol abaxo, por aquella parte en que los mirava su cruel y sañudo padre. Deste manera espiraron antes de llegar á lo baxo, con lastima de los presentes, y aun con lagriinas de algunos que se movian con aquel triste espectaculo de aquellos moços desgraciados, y a pesar del padre, como estavan, los enterraron en aquel mismo lugar. Constancia que se empleara mejor en otra bazana, y les fuera bien contada la muerte, si la padecieron por la virtad y en defensa de la verdadera religion, y 20 por satisfacer á sus apetitos desenfrenados.-Marnasa.

Tue Maiden through the favouring night
From Granada took her flight,
She bade her father's house farewell,
And fied away with Manuel,

No Moorish maid might hope to vie With Laila's cheek or Laila's eye, No maiden love with purer truth, Or ever loved a lovelier youth.

In fear they fled across the plain,
The father's wrath, the captive's chain,
In hope to Murcia on they flee,
To Peace, and Love, and Liberty,

And now they reach the mountain's height,
And she was weary with her flight,
She laid her head on Manuel's breast,
And pleasant was the maiden's rest.

But while she slept, the passing gale Waved the maiden's flowing veil, Iler father, as he crost the height, Saw the veil so long and white,

1798.

They saw him raise his angry band,
And follow with his armed band,
They saw them climbing up the steep,
And heard his curses loud and deep.

There was never a foe in the infidel band Who against his dreadful sword could stand; And yet Count Garci's strong right hand

Was shapely, and soft, and white;
As white and as soft as a lady's band
Was the hand of the beautiful knight.

Then Manuel's heart grew wild with woe,
He loosen'd stones and roll'd below,
He loosen'd crags, for Manuel strove
For Life, and Liberty, and Love.

The ascent was steep, the rock was bigli,
The Moors they durst not venture nigh;
The fugitives stood safely there,
They stood in safety and despair.

The Moorish chief uomoved could see
His daughter bend the suppliant knee;
He heard his child for pardon plead,
And swore the offenders both should bleed.

In an evil day and an hour of woe
To Garci's Hall did Count Aymerique go;

In an evil day and a luckless night
From Garci's Hall did he take his flight,
And bear with him that lady bright,

That Jady false, his bale and bane.
There was feasting and joy in Count Aymerique's bower,
When he with triumph, and pomp, and pride,
Brought home the adult'ress like a bride :
Ilis daughter only sate in her tower,

She sate ber in lonely tower alone,
And for her dead mother she made her moan.

Methinks,» said she, « my father for me
Might have brought a bridegroom home.

A stepmother he brings hither instead,
Count Aymerique will not his daughter should wed,
But he brings home a leman for his own bed.»
So thoughts of good and thoughts of ill
Were working thus in Abba's will;

And Argentine with evil intent
Ever to work her woe was bent;
That still she sate in her tower alone,

And in that melancholy gloom,
When for her mother she made her moau,

She wish'd her father too in the tomb.

He bade the archers bend the bow, And make the Christian fall below; He bade the archers aim the dart, And pierce the Maid's apostate heart.

The archers aim'd their arrows there, She clasp'd young Manuel in despair, « Death, Manuel, shall set us free! Then leap below and die with me.»

He clasp'd her close and cried farewell,
To one another's arms they fell;
They leapt adown the cracuy side,
In one another's arms they died.

And side by side they there are laid, The Christian youth and Moorish maid, But never Cross was planted there, Because they perishd for despair.

Yet every Murcian maid can tell Where Laila lies who loved so well, And every youth who passes there Says for Manuel's soul a prayer.

She watches the pilgrims and poor who wait

For daily food at her father's gate. « I would some knight were there,» thought she,

« Disguised in pilgrim-weeds for me! For Aymerique's blessing I would not stay, Nor be nor his leman should say me nay,

But I with him would wend away.” She watches her handmaid the pittance deal,

They took their dole and went away;

But yonder is one who lingers still
As though he had something in his will,
Some secret which he fain would say;

And close to the portal she sees him go, He talks with her handmaid in accents low;

Oh then she thought that time went slow, And long were the minutes that she must wait Till her handmaid came from the castle-gate.

1798.

GARCI FERRANDEZ.

This story, which later bistorians have taken some pains to disprove, may be found in the Coronica General de Espaua.

1.
In an evil day and an hour of woe

Did Garci Ferrandez wed!
He wedded the Lady Argentine,

He loved the Lady Argentine,
The Lady Argentine hath fled ;

In an evil day and an hour of woe
She hath left the husband who loved her so,

To go to Count Aymerique's bed.

From the castle-gate her handmaid came,

And told her that a Knight was there, Who sought to speak with Abba the fair, Count Aymerique's beautiful daughter and heir.

She bade the stranger to ber bower ;
His stature was tall, his features bold;
A goodlier form might never maid

At tilt or lourney hope to see ;
And though in pilgrim-weeds arrayed,

Yet noble in his weeds was he,
And his arms in them enfold
As they were robes of royalty.

Garci Ferrandez was brave and young,

The comeliest of the land; There was never a knight of Leon in fight Who could meet the force of his matchless might,

lle told his name to the damsel fair, He said that vengeance led him there ;

« Now aid me, lady dear, » quoth he,
« To smite the adult'ress in her pride ;
Your wrongs and mine avenged shall be,

And I will take you for my pride.»
He pledged the word of a true knight,
From out the weeds bis hand he drew;

She took the hand that Garci gave,
And then she knew the tale was true,

For she saw the warrior's hand so white, And she knew the fame of the beautiful Knight.

How they from Garci fled away

In the silent hour of night; And then amid their wanton play They mock'd the beautiful Knight.

Far, far away his castle lay,

The weary road of many a day; « And travel long,” they said, « to him,

It seem'd, was small delight, And he belike was loth with blood

To stain his hands so white.» They little thought that Garci then

Heard every scornful word! They little thought the avenging hand

Was on the avenging sword!

Fearless, unpenitent, unblest, Without a prayer they sunk to rest, The adulterer on the leman's breast.

JJ.
'T is the hour of noon,
The bell of the convent hath done,

And the Sexts are begun;
The Count and his leman are gone to their meat.

They look to their pages, and lo they see
Where Abba, a stranger so long before,
The ewer, and bason, and napkin bore;
She came and knelt on her bended knee,

And first to her father minister'd she; Count Aymerique look'd on his daughter down,

He look'd on her then without a frown.

Then Abba, listening still in fear,
To hear the breathing long and slow,
At length the appointed signal gave
And Garci rose and struck the blow.

One blow sufficed for Aymerique,-
He made no moan, he utter'd no groan;
But his death-start wakeu'd Argentine,
And by the chamber-lamp she saw

The bloody falchion shine!
She raised for help her in-drawn breath,
But her shriek of fear was her shriek of death.

In an evil day and an hour of woe

Did Garci Ferrandez wed! One wicked wife has lie sent to her grave, He hath taken a worse to his bed.

1801.

And next to the Lady Argentine

Humbly she went and knelt;
The Lady Argentine the while

A haughly wonder felt;
Her face put on an evil smile;
«I little thought that I should see

The Lady Abba kneel to me
In service of love and courtesy!
Count Aymerique,» the lemau cried,

« Is she weary of her solitude,
Or hath she quelld her pride?»

Abba no angry word replied,
She only raised her eyes and cried,

« Let not the Lady Argentine
Be wroth at ministry of mine!»
She look'd at Aymerique and sighed

My father will not frown, I ween,
That Abba again at his board should be seen!»
Then Aymerique raised her from her knee,
And kiss'd hier eyes, and bade her be

The daughter she was wont to be.

KING RAMIRO.

The story of the following Ballad is found in the Nobiliario of the Conde D. Pedro; and also in the Livro Velho das Linhagens, a work of the 13th century.

The wine hath warm'd Count Aymerique,

That mood his crafty daughter knew; She came and kiss d her father's cheek, And stroked his beard with gentle hand, And winning eye and action bland,

As she in childhood used to do. « A boon! Count Aymerique,» quoth she;

« If I have found favour in thy sight, Let me sleep at my father's feet to-night. Grant this,» quoth she, «so I shall see

That you will let your Abba be
The daughter she was wont to be.»
With asking eye did Abba speak,

Her voice was soft and sweet;
The wine had warm'd Count Aymerique,
And when the hour of rest was come,

She lay at her father's feet.

GREEN grew the alder-trees, and close To the water-side by St Joam da Foz. From the castle of Gaya the warden sees

The water and the alder-trees;
And only these the warden sees,

No danger near doth Gaya fear,
No danger nigh doth the warden spy;
He sees not where the galleys lie

Under the alders silently.
For the galleys with green are cover'd o'er,
They have crept by night along the shore,
And they lie at anchor, now it is morn,
Awaiting the sound of Ramiro's horn,

In traveller's weeds Ramiro sate

By the fountain at the castle-gate;
But under the weeds was his breast-plate,
And the sword he had tried in so many fights,
And the horn whose sound would ring around,

And be known so well by his knights.
From the gate Aldonza's damsel came

To fill her pitcher at the spring,
And she saw, but she knew not, her master the king.

In the Moorish tongue Ramiro spake,

In Aymeriquc's arms the leman lay, Their talk was of the distant day,

And begg'd a draught for mercy's sake,
That he his burning thirst might slake;

For worn by a long malady,
Not strength enow, he said, had he

To lift it from the spring.
She gave her pitcher to the king,
And from his mouth he dropt a ring
Which he had with Aldonza broken;

So in the water from the spring

Queen Aldonza found the token.
With that she bade her damsel bring

Secretly the stranger in. « What brings thee hither, Ramiro?» she cried :

« The love of you,» the king replied.
Nay! nay! it is not so!» quoth she,

« Ramiro, say not this to me!

I know your Moorish coneubine
Hath now the love which once was mine.

If you had loved me as you say,
You would never have stolen Ortiga away;

If you ha never loved another,
I had not been here in Gaya to-day

The wife of Ortiga's brother!
But hide thee here,-a step I hear,-

King Alboazar draweth near.»

Let me be led to your bull-ring,

And call your sons and daughters all,
And assemble the people both great and small,

And let me be set upon a stone,
That by all the multitude I may be known,

And bid me then this horn to blow,

And I will blow a blast so strong,

And wind the horn so loud and long
That the breath in my body at last shall be gone,
And I shall drop dead in sight of the throng.
Thus your revenge, O King, will be brave,
Granting the boon which I come to crave,
And the people a holiday sport will have,

And I my precious soul shall save;
For this is the penance my confessor gave.

King Alboazar, this I would do,
If you were I, and I were you.»

« This man repents his sin, be sure !»

To Queen Aldonza said the Moor, « He hath stolen my sister away from me,

I have taken from him his wife;
Shame then would it be when he comes to me,

And I his true repentance see,
If I for vengeance should take bis life.»

K

la her alcove she bade him hide : « King Alboazar, my lord,» she cried, « \Vhat wouldst thou do, if at this hour

King Ramiro were in thy power?» «This I would do,» the Moor replied, « I would hew him limb from limb, As he, I know, would deal by me,

So I would deal by him.»
« Alboazar!» Queen Aldonza said,
«Lo! here I give him to thy will;
In
yon

alcove thou hast thy foe,
Now thy vengeance then fulfil!»

With that upspake the Christian king:

«0! Alboazar deal by me
As I would surely deal with thee,

If I were you, and you were me!
Like a friend you guested me many a day,

Like a foe I stole your sister away; The sin was great, and I felt its weight,

All joy by day the thought opprest, And all night long it troubled my rest; Till I could not bear the burthen of care,

But told my confessor in despair.

And he, my sinful soul to save,
This penance for atonement gave;

That I before you should appear
And yield myself your prisoner here,

If my repentance was sincere,

That I might by a public death Breathe shamefully out my latest breath.

« O Alboazar!» then quoth she,
« Weak of heart as weak can be!

Full of revenge and wiles is he;
Look at those eyes beneath that brow,

I know Ramiro better than thou!
Kill him, for thou hast him now,

He must die, be sure, or thou.

Hast thou not heard the history
How, to the throne that he might rise,
He pluck'd out his brother Ordono's eyes?
And dost not remember his prowess in fight,
How often he met thee and put thee to fight,

And plunder'd thy country for many a day;
And low many Moors he has slain in the strife,

And how many more he has carried away?
How he came to show friendship-and thou didst believe

him? How he ravish'd thy sister, and wouldst thou forgive

him?
And hast thou forgotten that I am his wife,

And that now by thy side I lie like a bride,
The worst shame that can ever a Christian betide?

And cruel it were when you see his despair,

If vainly you thought in compassion to spare, And refused him the boon be comes hither lo crave;

For no other way his poor soul can be save,
Than by doing the Penance his confessor gave.>>

« King Alboazar, this I would do,

If you were I, and I were you;
I would give you a roasted capon first,
And a skinful of wine to quench your thirst,
And after that I would grant you the thing

Which you came to me petitioning.
Now this, O King, is what I crave,
That I my sinful soul may save:

As Queen Aldonza thus replies,

The Moor upon her fixed his cyes,
And he said in his heart, unhappy is he

Who pulteth his trust in a woman!

Thou art King Ramiro's wedded wife, And thus wouldst thou take away his life!

What cause have I to coufide in thee?

I will put this woman away from me. These were the thoughts that past in his breast,

But he call'd to mind Ramiro's might: And he fear'd to meet him hereafter in fight,

And he granted the king's request.