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To my poor mother ; near her lay my bro- • Fa. She listens not, ther;

. Words have no weight with her ; there is And by their side, a little space away,

no way, Place me; and lay my child on my right But forcibly to bear her hence. breast;

Mar. Touch me not; no, I will not suf. No other will lie with me in that bed !

'fer violence : Oh, could I lie down softly at thy side, Seize me not with that murderer's grasp ; That would have been a sweet and happy whate'er thing;

I did, was done for thee, my love. A happiness that never more can be.

Fa. Day dawnsoh hasten hence, my I feel as if I forced myself on thee,

love ! my love! And that thou wert repelling my embrace; Mar. Day; yes, 'tis day, the last, the And yet thou art the same and yet thy judgment-day; looks

My bridal-day it should have been : tell Are good and kind, as they have ever been.

none Fa. Oh, if thou feelest who I am ! Come, That thou hast been with poor weak Mar. come.

garet. Mar. Come! Whither ?

Alas, my garland is already withered ; Fa. From this prison to thy freedom. We'll meet again, but not at dances, love : Mar. Aye, to the grave! Death lays his The crowd is gathering tumultuously, snares for me!

The square and street are thronged with Come to the bed of everlasting rest!

crushing thousands No other journey can I make from this ; The bell hath sounded ; the death-wand is And wilt thou go? Oh, could I go with broken ; thee!

They bind and blindfold me, and force me Fa. Thou canst; the gates are open, on- on: ly come.

On to the scaffold they have hurried me; Mar. I dare not go; there is no help for And now, through every neck of all that

multitude What good is it to fly? My steps are watched. Is felt the bitter wound that severs mine. It is a hard thing to be forced to beg, The world is not as silent as the grave ! And harder, harassed by an evil conscience. Fa. Oh, that I never had been born! 'Tis hard to wander in a foreign land, Meph. (Appears at the door.) Away, or And then whate'er I do, at last they'll seize you are lost; me !

This trembling, and delay, and idle chatFa. I will be with thee!

tering, Mar. (wildly) Fly, fly,

Will be your ruin ; hence, or you are lost; Save thy poor child ;

My horses shiver in the chilling breeze Away to the road,

of the gray morning. By the side of the stream,

Mar. What shape is tha which rises And across the path

from the earth ? That leads to the wood;

'Tis he, 'tis he, oh send him from this Then turn to the left,

place; He lies in the pond.

What wants he here? Oh, what can bring Loiter not-linger not,

him here? Still does he stir

Why does he tread on consecrated ground ? With the motion of life.

He comes for me. His little hands struggle

Fa. Oh, thou shalt live, my love. More faintly and faintly,

Mar. Upon the judgment-throne of God, Rescue him !-rescue him !

I call; Fa. Recall thy wandering mind-thy On God I call in humble supplication. life's at stake!

Meph. (To Faustus.) Come, or I leave One step, and thou art free.

thee here to share her fate. Mar. Oh, that we once had left yon hill Mar. Father of heaven, have mercy on behind!

thy child! See there, my mother sitting on a stone Ye angels, holy hosts, keep watch around How cold the wind blows on us from that spring

Faustus, I grieve to think upon thy doom ! My mother there is sitting on a stone, Meph. Come, she is judged : (A voice And her grey head is trembling, and her eyes from above.) She is saved ! Close, and she now has ceased to nod; her

head Looks heavy, and she sleeps to wake no

Faustus disappears, together with

Mephistopheles-Margaret's voice is more! Oh, when she sunk to sleep how blest we

still heard from the prison, calling were,

him back.—The curtain falls-Thus It was a happy time!

ends this extraordinary drama,

HORÆ HISPANICE.

No II. The Morning of St John the Baptist, and Don Alonzo of Aguilar. We have no doubt our readers will thank us for inserting the two followe ing ballads, immediately after the preceding article on the Faustus of Goethe. To say nothing of the merits of the translations themselves, it cannot but afford a delightful sensation, to pass at once from the awful dreams and terrors of the most wildly imaginative poem that has been produced in these days, to the simplicity of those natural feelings, that are painted in both the pastoral song and the warlike ballad of the old days of Spain. It is like being thrown back at once, from the midst of the agonies of disturbed and perverted reason, into the clear open daylight of external things. It is like passing from some gloomy cathedral aisle, hung round with all the emblems of human nothing ness, and human vanity, into the smiling freshness of the green meadow, or the healthy breezes of the mountain. We are sensible to the relief afforded by the exchange of things tangible for things intangible, things intelligible for things unintelligible,-the “ common thoughts of mother earth," for the musings and the mysteries even of the most majestic of poets.-Editor.]

MR EDITOR,-Since you are pleased with the specimens I formerly sent you of my translations from the Spanish Ballads, I am happy to send you two more, although I am afraid you will not regard them as equally interesting with the others. The first is a very literal version of the ballad, which has been, for many centuries, sung by the maidens on the banks of the Guadalquiver, when they go forth to gather flowers, on the morning of the day of St John the Baptist. In my former communication I had occasion to allude to the fact, that this holiday, in the old time, was equally reverenced by the Christian and the Moorish inhabitants of Andalusia, and such of your readers as are acquainted with the ballad of the Admiral Guarinos, (which Cervantes, in one of his most beautiful passages, has introduced Don Quixote as hearing sung by a peasant going to his work at daybreak) will recollect the mention that is made of it there.

“ Three days alone they bring him forth a spectacle to be
The feast of Pasch and the great day of the Nativity,
And on that morn more solemn yet when the maidens strip the bowers,

And gladden mosque and minaret with the first fruits of the flowers." Depping, in his annotations to the ballad I am about to give you, mentions that a custom, and a belief similar to those commemorated Stanza 6th, are even at this time to be found extant among the Catholic peasantry of Southern Germany. In short, the morning of St John the Baptist's day seems to have been, and still to be regarded in many parts of Europe, in something like the same light with our own Allhallows Eve, the Scottish observances and superstitions connected with which have been so beautifully treated by Burns in his Halloween.

SONG FOR THE MORNING OF THE DAY OF ST JOHN THE BAPTIST.

Come forth, come forth, my maidens, 'tis the day of good St John,
It is the Baptist's morning that breaks the hills upon,
And let us all go forth together, while the blessed day is new,
To dress with towers the snow white wether, ere the sun has dried the dew,

Come forth, come forth, &c.
Come forth, come forth, my maidens, the hedgerows all are green,
And the little birds are singing the opening leaves between,
And let us all go forth together, to gather trefoil by the stream,
Ere the face of Guadalquiver glows beneath the strengthening beam,

Come forth, come forth, &c. VOL. VII.

2 K

Come forth, come forth, my maidens, and slumber not away
The blessed blessed morning of John the Baptist's day;
There's trefoil on the meadow, and lilies on the lee,
And hawthorn blossoms on the bush, which you must pluck with me,

Come forth, come forth, &c.
Come forth, come forth, my maidens, the air is calm and cool,
And the violet blue far down ye'll view, reflected in the pool ;
The violets and the roses, and the jasmines all together,
We'll bind in garlands on the brow of the strong and lovely wether,

Come forth, come forth, &c. Come forth, come forth, my maidens, we'll gather myrtle boughs, And we all shall learn from the dews of the fern, if our lads will keep their vows. If the wether be still, as we dance on the hill, and the dew hangs sweet on the

flowers, Then well kiss off the dew, for our lovers are true, and the Baptist's blessing

is ours." Come forth, come forth, my maidens, 'tis the day of good St John, It is the Baptist's morning that breaks the hills upon; And let us all go forth together, while the blessed day is new, To dress with flowers the snow white wether, ere the sun has dried the dew.

The next ballad I now send you has been selected out of a great number I have lying by me, because it contains another version of that same tragic story, which has already been made familiar to all English readers, by the ballad

*Gentle river, gentle river,

“ Now thy streams are stained with gore.” It follows in the Romancero general, immediately after Rio verde, rio verde," the original of that exquisite version ; but the commentators observe that, from the style both of its versification and its structure, it is probably of a much more ancient date. As it gives the details much more fully, we may, perhaps, be permitted to believe, that it gives them more exactly. This much is certain, that the pass of Sierra Nevada is expressly mentioned by the author of the Historia de las guerres civiles de Grenada, as the scene of the catastrophe for it cannot, according to his account, or to the ballad which follows, be called the battle

- at which the gallant Alonzo of Aguilar lost his life.

THE DEATH OF DON ALONZO OF AGUILAR.
Fernando, King of Arragon, before Grenada lies,
With dukeş and barons many a one, and champions of emprize ;
With all the captains of Castille that serve his lady's crown,
He chaces Zagal from his gates, and plucks the crescent down.
The cross is reared upon the towers, for our Redeemer's sake;
The king assembles all his powers his triumph to partake,
Yet at the royal banquet there's trouble in his eye.
Now speak thy wish, it shall be done, great king, the lordlings cry.
Then spake Fernando, Hear, grandees ! which of ye all will go :
And give my banner in the breeze of Alpuxar to blow?
Those heights along, the Moors are strong, now who, by dawn of day,
Will plant the cross their cliffs among, and drive the dogs away?
Then champion on champion high, and count on count doth look ;
And faultering is the tongue of lord, and pale the cheek of duke;
Till starts up brave Alonzo, the knight of Aguilar,
The lowmost at the royal board, but foremost still in war.

• “ They enclose the wether in a hut of heath," says Depping, “ and if he remaing quiet while the girl sings, all is well, but if he puts his horns through the frail wall or door, then the lover is false hearted.”

And thus he speaks : I pray, my lord, that none but I may 'go;
For I made promise to the queen, your consort, long ago,
That ere the war should have an end, I, for her royal charms,
And for my duty to her grace, would shew some feat of arms.
Much joyed the king these words to hear-he bids Alonzo speed-
And long before their revel's o'er the knight is on his steed;
Alonzo's on his milk-white steed, with horsemen in his train
A thousand horse, a chosen band, ere dawn the hills to gain.
They ride along the darkling ways, they gallop all the night ;
They reach Navada ere the cock hath harbinger'd the light;
But ere they've climb'd that steep ravine the east is glowing red,
And the Moors their lances bright have seen, and Christian banners spread.
Beyond the sands, between the rocks, where the old cork-trees grow,
The path is rough, and mounted men must singly march and slow;
There, o'er the path, the heathen range their ambuscado's line,
High up they wait for Aguilar, as the day begins to shine.
There nought avails the eagle eye, the guardian of Castille,
The eye of wisdom, nor the heart that fear might never feel,
The arm of strength that wielded well the strong mace in the fray,
Nor the sheer mail wherefrom the edge of faulchion glanced away.
Not knightly valour there avails, nor skill of horse and spear,
For rock on rock comes rumbling down from cliff and cavern drear ;
Down-down like driving hail they come, and horse and horsemen die,
Like cattle whose despair is dumb when the fierce lightnings fly.
Alonzo, with a handful more, escapes into the field,
There like a lion stands at bay, in vain besought to yield,
A thousand foes around are seen, but none draws near to fight;
Afar with bolt and javelin they pierce the stedfast knight.
An hundred and an hundred darts are hissing round his head;
Had Aguilar a thousand hearts their blood had all been shed;
Faint and more faint he staggers upon the slippery sod,
Then falls among a lake of gore, and gives his soul to God.
With that the Moors plucked up their hearts to gaze upon his face,
And caitiffs mangled where he lay the scourge of Africk's race;
To woody Oxijera then the gallant corpse they drew,
And there upon the village green they laid him out to view.
Upon the village green he lay, as the moon was shining clear,
And all the village damsels to look at him drew near ; ;
They stood around him all a-gaze beside the big oak tree,
And much his beauty did they praise, tho' mangled sore was he.
Now, so it fell, a Christian dame, that knew Alonzo well,
Not far from Oxijera did as a captive dwell,
And hearing all the marvels, across the woods came she,
To look upon this Christian corpse, and wash it decently.
She looked upon him, and she knew the face of Aguilar,
Although his beauty was disgraced with many a ghastly scar,
She knew him, and she cursed the dogs that pierced him froin afar,
And mangled him when he was slain--the Moors of Alpuxar,
The Moorish maidens, while she spake, around her silence kept,
But her master dragged the dame away-then loud and long they wept,
They washed the blood, with many a tear, from dint of dart and arrow,
And buried him near the waters clear of the brook of Alpuxarra.

THE AYRSHIRE LEGATEES,

Or the Correspondence of the Pringle Family.

MR M'GRUEL, the surgeon, our core The Doctor had been for many years respondent in Kilwinning, has sent us the incumbent of Garnock, which is several letters from the different mem- pleasantly situated between Irvine and bers of Dr Pringle's family, during Kilwinning, and, on account of the their present visit to London. But al- benevolence of his disposition, was though our Ayrshire friends are well much beloved by his parishoners. acquainted with the Rev. Doctor, and Some of the pawkie among them used rejoice in his good fortune, we have a indeed to say, in answer to the godly few readers in other parts of the king- of Kilmarnock, and other admirers of dom, to whom it may be necessary to the late great John Russel, of that mention something of the objects of formerly orthodox town, by whom Dr his journey.

Pringle's powers as a preacher were On last new-year's day the Doctor held in no particular estimation :received a letter from India, informing “He kens our pu'pit's frail, and sparst him that his cousin, Colonel Armour, to save outlay to the heritors." ' As had died at Hydrabad, and left him for Mrs Pringle, there is not such anohis residuary legatee. The same post ther minister's wife, both for economy brought other letters on the same sub- and management, within the jurisdice ject from the agent of the deceased in tion of the Synod of Glasgow and Ayr, London, by which it was evident to and to this fact, the following letter to the whole family that no time should Miss Mally Glencairn, a maiden lady be lost in looking after their interests residing in the Kirkgate of Irvine, a in the hands of such brief and abrupt street that has been likened unto the correspondents. “ To say the least of Kingdom of Heaven, where there is it," as the Doctor himself sedately re- neither marriage nor giving in marmarked, " considering the greatness of riage, will abundantly testify. the forthcoming property, Messieurs : Richard Argent and Company, of New

LETTER I. Broad-street, might have given a no- Mrs Pringle to Miss Mally Glencairn. tion as to the particulars of the residue.” It was therefore determined

Garnock Manse, that, as soon as the requisite arrange

1st Jan. 1820. ments could be made, the Doctor DEAR Miss MALLY, The Doctor and Mrs Pringle should set out for has had extraordinar news from Inthe metropolis, to obtain a speedy dia and London, where we are all gosettlement with the agents, and, as ing, as soon as me and Rachel can get Rachel had now, to use an expres- ourselves in order, so I beg you will sion of her mother's, “ a prospect go to Bailie Delap's shop, and get before her," that she also should ac- swatches of his best black bombaseen, company them: Andrew, who had and crape, and muslin, and bring them just been called to the Bar, and who over to the manše, the morn's mornhad come to the manse to spend a few ing. If you cannot come yourself, and days after attaining that distinction, the day should be wat, send Nanny modestly suggested, that considering Eydent, the mantua-maker, with them; the various professional points which you'll be sure to send Nanny, ony how, might be involved in the objects of his and I requeesht that, on this okasion, father's journey; and considering also ye'll get the very best the Bailie has, and the retired life which his father had I'll tell you all about it when you come. led in the rural village of Garnock, it You will get, likewise, swatches of might be of importance to have the ad- mourning print, with the lowest prices. vantage of legal advice.

I'll no be so particular about them, as Mrs Pringle interrupted this ha- they are for the servan lasses, and rangue, by saying, “ we see what you there's no need, for all the greatness would be at, Andrew ; ye're just want- of God's gifts, that we should be wastering to come with us, and on this oc- ful. Let Mrs Glibbans know, that the casion I'm no for making step-bairns, Doctor's second cousin, the Colonel, 60 we'll a' gang thegither,

that was in the East Indies, is no

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