Let him the perjur'd Nina bear,
And crown her joys with my despair;
To Medot bear th' exulting bride
Array'd in all her nuptial pride!
Yet sure, in spite of her disdain,
When she shall seize that palfrey's rein,
Awhile on me her heart shall rue!-
Ah Nina!-thou !-so wonder true!
Thou too dost weep; thou, lost like me,
Victim of foulest treachery;
Thou lov'st me still: thy ruthless sire
Would vainly force thy free desire;
And, till my being I resign,
This constant heart shall aye be thine!"
Meanwhile, throughout the spacious keep,
The baron's guests were fast asleep.
Prepar'd, ye wot, at early day,
To ride three leagues of rugged way,
Warn'd that, ere dawn, the porter's bell
Shall rouse each sleeper from his cell;
Well prim'd with wine, the sapient crew
At early hour to rest withdrew.
Only sweet Nina sleepless lies;
Vain schemes in quick succession rise,
Vain hopes of visionary aid :-
Alas, the flattering visions fade,
No hope of aid or flight appears,
Her sole resource, unceasing tears.
Scarce midnight past, the moon 'gan rise,
And struck the porter's wondering eyes
Where he (some evening bumpers quaff'd)
Sat dreaming of the morrow's draught;
So, waken'd by the moon-light blaze,
He ween'd it sure the morning's rays:
Sprang to his bell with hasty zeal,
And rang amain a deafening peal.
All quickly rise alert and prest,
E'en Nina's self at length is dress'd.
Stunn'd by her woes she nothing heeds
The gallant guests, the prancing steeds,
Till the gray palfrey meets her eyes:
Then gush her tears, then burst her sighs:
She may not mount;-with eager prayer
She begs this last worst pang to spare;
Her prayers, her struggles, all are vain ;
On must she fare.-The menial train
The march begin: next pace along
The wedding-guests, a gray-beard throng;
Then, in the rear, the weeping maid ;
And last, to close the cavalcade,
An ancient knight, of valour tried,
The future sponsor of the bride.
Three leagues of road, ye heard me say,
The band must pass; through woods it lay:
So straight, so cross'd with briar and bough,
Two steeds abreast 'twould scant allow.
Perforce the troop must march in file.
With songs and jests one tedious mile,
Joyous and brisk the veterans ride;
At length the songs and jests subside;
The still cold air, the glimmering moon,
Tell them they left their beds too soon:
From eye to eye the influence creeps,
Each nods awhile, then soundly sleeps.
Gentles! so courteous and so sage,
Ye know the reverence due to age;
Ye honour eld; and yet, perdie,
I gage ye would have laugh'd to see
These slumbering gray-beards in a row,
Their bald heads nodding to and fro,
Now dropping on their coursers' mane,
Now starting bolt-upright again.
The bride, with love and grief distraught, Wastes not on them a moment's thought; But, as the wretch to death who wends, Deems that his march too quickly ends, Poor Nina blames her courser's speed; Checks, and still checks her eager steed, Till the grave troop, to sleep resign'd, Leave their sweet charge full far behind. Still at her heels the sponsor hies, And opes, at times, his languid eyes, But close the palfrey gray appears; Again he nods, nor danger fears: Indeed, so narrow was the way He weens they cannot go astray. At length the road in two divides: Eager to reach his distant guides,
Straight on the sponsor's courser fares,
Straight on his weetless rider bears.
Not so Sir William's palfrey gray :
Left his own judgment to obey,
He by the right-hand path proceeds,
Which to Sir William's stable leads.
But ere they reach the knight's abode,
A crossing torrent bars the road.
In plung'd the steed. The dashing sound
Wakes Nina from her trance profound.
Oh could she scape that odious chain !
But, if that rising hope be vain,
Far better here to die she deems,
Engulf'd within these whelming streams!
The streams, howbe, though deep and wide,
Well knew the steed, who oft had tried.
Quick bounds he forth with crest elate,
Nor stops, but at Sir William's gate.
The porter sounds his bugle clear,
To speak some noble stranger near;
"Quick! open quick! from felon hands
Scarce scap'd, a maid your help demands!"
The porter scans with studious eye
That form! that robe of scarlet dye!
That steed! so like the palfrey gray,-
"Tis, sure, some charitable fay
That makes young errant knights her care,
And comes to cure his lord's despair!
Alas! her utmost help he needs!
So, with his news the porter speeds.
Much were the courteous knight to blame
Should he neglect the stranger dame;
So, straight he bids the drawbridge fall,
His menials marshall'd in the hall,
Himself, as fits, with honour meet,
Goes forth the beauteous guest to greet;
And lowly bows, and sadly rears
His feverish eyes, still sprent with tears,
And sees-his Nina's angel face,
And feels his Nina's warm embrace!
Close and more close her timid breast,
Against his sheltering bosom press'd.
Yet still, with wild reverted eyes,
"Shield me! oh shield me, love," she cries,
The knight replied, " to guard my love,
Think not these arms shall nerveless prove :
No! let our foes their powers combine!
Thou art, and ever shall be mine."
Now calls he forth his faithful band.-
The drawbridge rais'd, the turrets mann'd;
No fear, though numerous foes assail,
Their utmost power shall soon prevail;
One task remains, the best and last:
So to the chapel are they pass'd,
And there, with Heaven's mysterious rites,
The chaplain sage their hands unites.
Their anguish past, their long annoy,
More keenly points the present joy:
The menials press on every side
Round the good knight, and lovely bride;
And bless, with shouts that rend the air,
Sir William bold, and Nina fair!
Not thus, meanwhile, in Medot's hall:
There, the quaint guests assembled, all
Appear'd in nuptial robes array'd,
All, save the sponsor and the maid;
But, of the sleeping troop, not one
Could dream which way this pair was gone.
At length the sponsor knight they see;
Still nodding on his steed was he,
And much surpris'd, in open day,
No more to view the palfrey gray.
Perchance, where tangled paths have cross'd,
The maid is in the forest lost?
Not so they search the forest round,
Nina was nowhere to be found;
Till by a river's side they see,-
O fatal sight!-the palfrey flee,
With Nina mounted on his back,
Swift bound upon a distant track.
They strain their coursers, one and all,
But Nina long had gain'd the wall,
And, safe within her lover's bower,
Enjoyed the happy, nuptial hour,
Ere the tired horsemen, homeward bent,
Asham'd, their idle chase lament.
At length they learn, in happy hour,
Fair Nina shares Sir William's bower;
(Thus by his squire Sir William sends,)
The knight his love to all commends,
And greets each dame and reverend lord,
And bids them to his humble board.
So went they all. With decent air
The knight to each presents the fair;
The fair belov'd from early life,
And now his dear and wedded wife.
Scarce can he breathe the fatal sound
Ere angry murmurs rise around.
But when the knight his tale has told,
Of Nina to his uncle sold;
Of two fond hearts of fraud the prey,
Till rescu'd by the palfrey gray,
These elders, train'd in honour's cause,
Grown gray beneath love's powerful laws,
All in Sir William's cause conspire,
All press to gain th' indignant sire;
And, should the uncle urge his claim,
Condemn the deed to deathless shame.
So both, from mutual bonds releas'd,
Unite to bliss the nuptial feast.
Within the year the uncle died,
And soon the father of the bride;
So rules the knight their joint domain,
The wealthiest lord in all Champagne.
"THY banks were bonny, Yarrow stream, When first on them I met my lover; Thy braes how dreary, Yarrow stream, Where now thy waves his body cover.
For evermore, O Yarrow stream,
Thou art to me a stream of sorrow,
For never on thy banks shall I
Behold my love, the flower of Yarrow.
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