'Golden Fleece.'-But wine-wine, to drink to her perfections."

"Ah! then you confess she has some attractions!"

"A thousand, my dear fellow, a thousand -But you forget the wine.-Yes," continued Lodrona," she is a little gem-a magnetbut not a magnum-the wine, my dear fellow, the wine!"

"Then how can you be surprised that I love her, and think of nothing else?"

Surprised, do you say-I am not astonished at all, at your loving the girl—indeed, we men do such foolish things, they are past belief. We are mighty wise, until we are enchanted-until the eye, I will not call it the Evil eye, of woman fascinates us. Then good night to our vows, our protestations of reliance in our strength-they fade as the herb of a day, as the insect of a sunshine, and we become, even as you now are, Orlando, bewitched."

"Then why do you deride me ?"

"To save you from madness. You are possessed by frenzy."

66

Frenzy!" exclaimed Orlando, starting to his feet. "I tell you, Señor, it is no frenzy, it is pure love—and I beg of you to be more moderate in your expressions."

"Indeed, and has it come to this?" said Amos, rising in his turn. "Then, my dear fellow, love her, adore her, nay, marry her, and the Count, your father, will cut you off to a rial. Orlando, I wish you good morning and bright prospects. You have a fine look out from this balcony-perhaps, in the distant landscape, you may read futurity. Yonder is a precipice, you had better go and leap from it into the bubbling cataract. Farewell!"

Stay, dear Amos, stay; I meant no offence. I was hasty, will you pardon me?"

"I do, that is positive; and blessed be Bacchus, here comes Beppo with the wine. Out with it, Beppo; fill the goblets brimful."

Amos emptied his goblet. Orlando scarcely tasted it-pushed it aside-and sat musing. Amos helped himself a second time, and

was about to put the cup to his lips, when Orlando suddenly exclaimed, starting as if from a dream

66

Marry her, did you say, Amos?"

Ay, do so, and you will divorce yourself from your father's money bags."

"I never thought of that before. Egad, my father is a man capable of disinheriting me of every maravedi he possesses

י!

Orlando was right. El Conde Peñalverde, whose pedigree could be traced back to the invasion of the Moors, was one of the haughtiest noblemen of Spain. In his veins flowed blood tinctured by that of royalty, and the proud Count would never have consented to an union derogatory to his aristocratic notions. Like most men, he feared that the world, that dreaded critic, should pronounce the union of his son derogatory to his dignity-a stain on his blazon. For this reason Orlando knew, that his father would not for a moment have given his happiness a thought, although he would have consecrated whole days, nay weeks, to secure the aggrandizement of his son by a

noble and opulent union.

Strange custom,

that parents should force hateful ties upon their children, who do not see with the same eyes as they do, nor love the parties they point out, as fit for them: and if the child refuse, it is ungrateful; if it accede, ten to one that Sto misery is the reward of obedience. So much for filial duty, and parental tyranny,—that parents have a right to forbid the bands is unquestionable, but this does not constitute a right to command them.

Amos Lodrona had finished the bottle of Xeres, and having nothing more to do, watched his friend pacing the apartment to and fro, like a tiger in a cage. His arms were folded on his breast, and he looked like one about to take some desperate resolution. The young man was seriously in love. His passion blinded. him so effectually, that it increased tenfold. his desire to leap the barrier which rose angrily between him and the object of his affection.

"How long is this pantomime to last?" inquired Amos.

"Until I can make up my mind what to do."

"What else would you do, if you must have her, but run away with her for a time, and when tired of her company, you can pack her home again. If she refuse, promise marriage, and I'll stake my life that she will refuse no longer."

"Never! I will not deceive her. She shall either become my wife, or I will make a bold effort,-leave this city and join the Emperor's army; and in the midst of gaiety, wine and warfare, forget my dear Eunice, if that be possible."

"The most effectual way of forgetting her is to follow my advice. Love, like every other passion or enjoyment, has its day. It stands

to reason

"Men love a mistress as they love a feast;

How grateful one to touch, and one to taste:
Yet surely there's a certain time of day,

We wish our mistress and our meat away.'

"Leave me, Lodrona, I cannot listen to such