attention-nothing which pleased. It was necessary to observe her closely, to examine her minutely, to remark the aristocratic perfection of her hands and feet, the exquisite grace of her movements, and the thoughtful sweetness of her smile. After having been engaged in prayer for some time, kneeling on the steps of the altar, the young communicants rose, and, moved by the same impulse, they each took the hand of the others, and pressed it affectionately. "Blanchette and Brunette," said the Blonde Marguerite, speaking the first, "I ask your pardon, if any word of mine has, before this blessed day, offended you; I ask it of you, above all, for my jealousy, which often makes me unjust towards you both.' "I also, Blondette and Blanchette," said the Brune Marguerite in her turn, "I humbly ask of you both pardon for my faults, and for the bad examples which I have given you." "It is far rather I who should ask pardon of you, my dear sisters," replied the Blanche Marguerite, with tears in her voice and in her eyes," I, the most unjust and ungrateful of the three." "You, the best of the three!" exclaimed Brunette and Blondette together. Yes, the most spoiled," said Blanchette, with one of those charming smiles which beautify any face. "Come, let us forgive, let us embrace, and end it," said the Blonde Marguerite, gaily, opening her arms, into which the two other young girls threw themselves. After remaining for a few moments locked in a silent embrace, they sat down, still holding each other wish to know," said Brunette. "My world, my universe is Marseilles. Who will tell me the history of Marseilles?" "I, if you wish it," replied Blanchette, gently and with great simplicity. "Oh! that would be so kind of you!" cried Marguerite la Brune. "Tell it me, Blanchette, pray; so that this evening I may repeat it to my mother, and she will give me a kiss for my knowledge." "See Blanchette going to show her superiority over us," said Marguerite la Blonde, with an air of impatience and fatigue. "To whom, little jealous one?" said Brunette," are we not alone?" "If Blondette does not like it, let us talk of something else," said Marguerite la Blanche, sweetly. I am, and shall be always, a wicked girl," said the Blonde Marguerite, with pretty earnestness," and since Brunette wishes for the history of Marseilles, tell it us, Blanchette; there,-I am listening to you.” "Come, then, it shall be your punishment," said Marguerite la Blanche gaily, and she turned to begin her story. (To be continued.) FACTS IN THE EAST ILLUSTRATIVE OF SACRED HISTORY.-No. I. BY MRS POSTANS. by the hand, on the marble step where they had pre-brief space, the thoughts of mighty power that spring THE East! Reader, pause, ponder, if but for a viously been kneeling. "What a delightful day has this been!" said, with religious fervour, she who was called the Blanche Marguerite; " and how one would have wished to die, to ascend peaceful, pure and cleansed from sin, to the bosom of God." At fifteen, the age of us all three, it is much too soon," added Marguerite la Brune. 66 Yes, for you, dear cousins," said Marguerite la Blanche, sadly," you, who are beautiful, beautiful as angels; you, who will marry perhaps, as I shall, for political reasons, but whom your husbands will love; first, because you are beautiful, and that beauty charms the eyes, and then because you are good, and that goodness charms the heart-but I, ugly and ungraceful as I am, what husband will ever love me?" "Child!" said the two other girls, with affectionate tenderness,—“ child, who thinks herself ugly because she has not grown so fast as we have, and thinks that husbands are taken by the snare of beauty, like little birds in the glue which is spread as a trap for them. No, no," added Marguerite la Blonde," my mother has often repeated to me-and she is so wise that I believe her, the man who wishes to marry seeks far less for beauty than for goodness; the one attracts, perhaps, but it passes away, while the other remains and attaches, believe me.' "Wisdom speaks by your mouth, my little Blondette," said Blanchette, laughing; "but, come, let us forget our beauty and our husbands,-those husbands who will take us from our dear Provence, from Marseilles, or Massalia, the capital of ancient Phocia, as that old bard, Antoine Vidal, who teaches me the history of the world, persists in calling it." "It is not the history of the world that I should from that one word. Think of it, in all its significance; think of all the beauty, the glory, the truths, the histories, the morality, the religion connected with that one word. Think of it as the birth-place, the cradle of the human race; think of it as the point from whence sprung all our ancient knowledge, our ancient wisdom, our ancient faith. Think, as modern investigations of great interest prove, that by tracing back the lines of the principal races of men, and by comparing their languages, religions, and modes of calculating time, they are found to converge nearly to a point, and that point is on the confines of Hindostan. Think that it was on the Eastern soil that man was first placed, as congenial to his nature: that it was among the scenes of Eastern beanty that man drew his first thoughts of life, and walked in purity, communing with his Maker; that it was from the mountain of the East that Jehovah gave laws to man; that it was on the plains of the East that the God of hosts strengthened the powers of the armies of Israel. It was in the gardens and in the silent places of the East that God stood face to face with the works of his hand, and admitted man to his counsels; it was from the villages, cities, and deserts of the East that God incarnate brought life and immortality to light, and issued laws for the moral governance of the world, which have now reached not only our island, but the uttermost parts of the earth. Such are the mighty interests of the East. And it is impossible to consider it thus as the great scene of all most interesting to man, without desiring to know in how far its aspects may have changed, and what trace may yet be found among the manners and customs of the land in similitude with the past. This being a subject that has for many years formed an inquiry of deep interest to myself, I am anxious to attract to it the serious attention of my reader, and bring him particularly to notice the interesting and valuable fact, that, as a result of the character of Oriental climes, the customs and manners of the people, to a very great degree, have remained unchanged during a period of more than three thousand years, so that a traveller of to-day in the East shall there see most of the ordinary acts of life performed by the people as did Abraham and the prophets, and last of all the disciples, in the Holy City. These are facts which, during a long residence in India, and journeyings through various portions of the East, have often appeared to add much to my appreciation of the simplicity, nature, and beauty of many of the touching narratives of the inspired writings, and such having resulted to myself, I desire, according to my poor ability, to add such grains of information connected with this species of external evidence," as the aspect of the East presents to the observant traveller. The reader of his Bible, therefore, will not, I hope, consider it unwelcome, that, drawing on remembrance for my material, I endeavour to give, as an eyewitness, those facts connected with my own experiences in the East which tend to the illustration of various curious and interesting portions of the sacred writings; and the reader, desiring to aid my purpose, must suffer his imagination to form for itself, as a ground-work, as much idea as possible of Oriental climes, scenery, costume, and persons, either as he may have read of them in books, or seen of them in pictures. He must imagine a land glowing by day under the richest sunshine,its lights all gold-its shadows all amethyst-coloured; he must imagine the cities of its plains of sun-dried clay, and their flat-roofed houses half covered with a turbaned population;he must imagine the shepherd classes of the hills and plains with their loins girded; their staff in their hands; their cloak of goat's hair; their rude tent; their property of flocks and herds; the wondrous beauty of tropical vegetation; the glory of the starlit canopy of heaven, that taught the Chaldean wanderer man's earliest science, constraining him to worship as he gazed, ignorantly indeed, yet with an inspiration of truth and beauty in his heart;-and having so imagined, the reader will allow me to draw his attention, without further preface, to the eighteenth chapter of the first book of Moses, in which is described the entertainment of the angels by Abraham. I once saw a native of Beloochistan that looked as one could fancy the patriarch might have looked; the man I speak of was rich in flocks and herds, and came to visit us supported by his sons; his face was fair and handsome, though ninety summers had blanched the beard that flowed below his breast-a huge turban of fine muslin shaded his brow, and his dress was of goat's hair interwoven with coloured silk, and girded round the loins with a rope of camel's hair; his feet were bare, and his staff was in his hand. All the generations of his house dwelt with him, and ate of his bread; and his sons were herdsmen as he had been; and his sons' wives drew water, decked in all the bravery of gold, and silk, and gems; and when a chief of the provinces passed by with a mounted retinue, they lodged at the old man's house, for he was the chief man of the city;-and as his aspect was, even so I fancied might have been that of the patriarch Abraham on the plains of Mamre. At the first verse of the chapter in question, we read, that Abraham sat in the tent-door in the heat of the day." In all travelling in the East, or dwelling outside cities, a tent forms the general and convenient home. Its accommodation varies according to the wealth of its owner; I have seen the shepherd tribes of the Affghan mountains form a tented dwelling for wives and children, with a single goat's hair cloak supported on a bamboo pole, less in size than the white ant-hill by its side, the general class of whose insect architecture first gave perhaps to the desert wanderer his earliest idea of such a shelter. I have seen the Moslem noble, on his way to Mecca, with a tent of green and crimson cloth, surmounted by a gilded crescent, and surrounded by dwellings of the same form and material as his own. pertaining to his wives, friends, and followers; and I have, as a guest, sat in the tent of a prince in India, on the interior walls of which verses of the Koran were broidered with seed pearls and gold. The tent of Abraham was probably the ordinary travelling tent, containing one apartment, with a door raised on poles, and being open at either side a current of air passes through, while the raised door as a sloping verandah, protects the ground beneath it from the sun. Many a pleasant hour have I passed, while travelling in the East, thus sitting in the tent-door, or doorway, at noon-day, watching the heated animals plunge into the neighbouring tank, or the weary traveller rest under the luxuriant foliage, shading the neighbouring well. And Abraham "lift up his eyes and looked, and lo, three men stood by him, and when he saw them, he ran to meet them from the tent-door." Hospitality in the East is proverbial, the rich man goes forth to meet his guest, the poor man offers the refreshing smoke of his humble cocoa-nut pipe, or hubble-bubble, to comfort the weary traveller; the village damsel pours water on his hands, and the child proffers a morsel of dried fruit, a few dates, or a plantain. Abraham offered to the travellers on Mamre the refreshment most congenial to, and that always chosen by, Eastern travellers. The shoe of the East, whether it be the clumsy shoe of the Turk, and Mohammedan generally, or the rude sandal of the Arab and Hindoo, galls the feet, and impedes progress; the traveller, therefore, is seen bare-footed, with his shoes in his hand, or tucked into his girdle. The feet, having traversed perhaps twelve miles (about an ordinary day's journey) of heated earth, become sore and swollen, and the traveller uniformly seeks the river-side, the waters of a tank, or the neighbouring well, where he may bathe and cool them; after which he turns to the grateful shade of a peepul-tree (Ficus religiosa) as affording the most widely spreading canopy, draws forth from his little scrip or girdle the favourite kaliun, and thus "as one who on his journey baits at noon, though bent on speed," calmly rests, ere he thinks of food, or can prepare it. Thus, therefore, said Abraham, Let a little water, I pray you, be fetched, and wash your feet, and rest yourselves under the tree;" then Abraham hastened to Sarah with the words, "Make ready quickly three measures of fine meal, knead it and make cakes upon the hearth." Women in the East, of whatever rank their husbands may be, always prepare their food. I remember being on board a steamer for Beirout, where were the four beautiful wives of a pacha of the first class, on his way from Constantinople to Jerusalem. He had menservants in abundance, but the evening meal of the pacha was uniformly prepared by the ladies of the hareem in their cabin, and carried thence by the eunuchs and other slaves to the carpet of their master. In the family of the Brahmin of highest rank in Bombay, Vindaech Gungadhur Shastree, Esq., his Hindoo wife always prepares his daily food: and he has explained to me, that as a Hindoo, he could not eat the mess prepared by any one else without losing "caste." And this domestic duty is by no means considered as more degrading to the Eastern wife, than we suppose it to have been to the obedient Sarah. "And stakes had been firmly fixed into the ground, and on each was impaled a calf, a lamb, or a kid of the goats, well stuffed with spice, ghee (clarified butter), and flour; on either side blazed enormous wood fires, that extended in double column the length of the line, and in this manner the animals were dressed, and then carried among the guests, who separated with their daggers such portions as they chose, each guest being provided with a platter of fig-leaves, fastened The "making ready" a meal in the East is a process together with the thorns of the Neem tree. of some labour, and occupies time; whence Abraham's he took butter and milk, and the calf which he had desire, that it should be done “quickly.” I have | dressed, and set it before them; and he stood by them often observed the operation as performed by the under the tree, and they did eat.” wives of my own servants, and can therefore describe it. The grain is brought in the quantity required by the woman either in a small winnowing basket or in the corner of her veil. She then, standing in the open air, sifts it carefully. After this is satisfactorily achieved, the woman seats herself on the ground and carefully picks the grain, throwing aside all refuse, discoloured or otherwise; then placing it between the large stones of a handmill, she grinds it, singing as she works the "grinding song," known to every Indian woman, and which, while riding through an Eastern village I have heard in chorus from the doorway of every hut, long in advance of earliest dawn. The meal is now made "ready." The housewife then brings a brazen dish, and a small vessel of water, called in India a Lotah, and putting the meal into the dish, moistens and kneads it with great care. The "hearth" is ordinarily formed under the shade of a tree, where a portion of ground has been cleared, levelled, and spread with manure, which, hardening, forms a convenient floor, where are placed three large stones between which a fire is kindled. The housewife separates the kneaded meal into portions, which are pressed into the forms of thin cakes by a rapid circular motion of the palms of the hands, between which she holds the dough, and they are then, one by one, thrown on a metal plate, which has become heated on the stones. As each cake is baked, it is jerked on the hearth, to dry and cool, until a sufficient heap is raised to satisfy the usual appetites of the family; and, in manner equally simple, did Sarah, we suppose, "make cakes upon the hearth." But the hospitality of Abraham to the travellers on the plain of Mamre did not confine itself to giving cakes of meal, the ordinary food of the commonest of the people. He "ran unto the herd, and fetched a calf tender and good, and gave it unto a young man; and he hasted to dress it." It is very evident from the verse which follows, that the calf was dressed whole; and the manner of doing this was probably similar to that which I recollect having seen in Upper Sinde, at an entertainment given by the governor in a garden near the city of Shikarpore. A convenient space had been cleared for the dancing women, story-tellers, and jugglers, whose talents were intended to add to the charms of good cheer, to honour those bidden to the fête, while silver dishes, piled with fine fruits, decorated with fragrant blossoms, and interspersed with vases of sherbet and rose-water, formed a rich contrast to the beautiful Persian carpets spread before the cushions of the guests;-beyond this great centre of attraction was the singular scene of culinary preparation, performed in the open air, by the turbaned followers of the Prophet, who, having slain the animals, fetched from the herd with deep Bismillahs," now attentively watched the process of rendering them "savoury meat." A line of bamboo 46 | It is not remarkable, among tribes so essentially pastoral as the people of the East have ever been, that butter and milk should form so considerable a portion of ordinary food. The shepherds, indeed, find in them their principal sustenance, and the rich use them under the impression that they tend much to embonpoint, which, with an Asiatic, is synonymous with wealth, honour, and the golden opinions of all men. I have seen a grave Moslem, with moustachios and beard, of most flowing grandeur, swallow the contents of a bowl of milk with as much satisfaction as a child in an English cottage could have done ;—and the ghee, or butter, is not alone a favourite sauce to their cakes, and their bowls of dry rice, but is considered necessary as a common and salutary article of diet, in connexion with all descriptions of food. As their host, Abraham "stood" by his guests, "under the tree, and they did eat." More than once it has occurred to me to be the bearer of introductions from the chief of a province to the governors of his towns and villages, and to have been, on arriving at them, treated with the same etiquette as would have been observed towards the chief himself. In these cases, some delicate viands, sweetmeats, and pastry, prepared by the fair hands of the ladies of the harem, have been sent with great ceremony on a silver salver, covered with an embroidered napkin, and convoyed by an armed servant; and immediately after his arrival, the governor himself has appeared to honour his guest, by standing, if he had been permitted to do so, while we ate ;— and when some trifle had been tasted, in due form, the host would himself present a napkin, and vase of rose-water for ablution, taking on himself the humility of a servant. The form generally ends by the host's presenting a few pieces of money on a plate, which the guest raises to his forehead and returns, the act being intended to convey that the governor desires to place all he possesses at the command of the guest he so delighteth to honour. Thus Abraham, in standing beside his guests, performed as a host the act of courtesy common in the present day among the people of the East, when desiring to confer honour on a guest peculiarly distinguished; and imperfect as it is, I think my present illustration of these few interesting verses will tend, in some degree, to prove the position with which I commenced this paper, i. e. that three thousand years have produced little alteration in the manners of the people of the East, and that, notwithstanding all that has been written of them by travellers of industry and information, our best text-book in this, as in all other things, are the Sacred Scriptures, in which we see, as in a focus mirror of surpassing brightness, all that was, and is, and ever shall be. (To be continued.) ON THE ROMANCES OF CHIVALRY. "Oh! dear are the fables of olden time! In a former sketch we alluded to the variety of brilliant materials at the command of the writer of the Romance of Chivalry. The dark superstitions of the Gothic nations, the bright and fairy fictions of the Orientals, with the relics of classic mythology which still lingered in the public mind, all were, as time advanced, softened and adorned by the combined influence of chivalry, gallantry, and religion; those "three columns on which the fictions of the middle ages repose." As we observed before, the earliest chivalric romances were metrical, but those to which our ideas in this day more immediately turn, are the vast gigantic tomes of prose fiction which were woven round the much simpler, much brighter, poetic germ. These prose romances, too, continued high in favour long after their poetical predecessors were in disgrace: it is to these prose romances that Milton refers with such warm regard; and it is from these alone that we shall deduce our examples, chiefly because the language of the metrical ones is somewhat obscure and fatiguing to the unaccustomed eye. Most indispensable personages in all these romances are Giants and Dwarfs. The giants will be more or less prodigious or cruel, the dwarfs more or less subtle, and the heroes more or less magnanimous, according to the taste of the writer, the opinions of his age, and the habits of his country, but in some form or other they are inseparable from chivalrous romance. The German dwarf was subtle, dark, and often cruel; the French ones were natural and humble attendants on the knights; while those of Spain were fantastic sprites, who rode "On the vivid lightning's flash, To those dread realms, where, hid from mortal sight; The ministration of attendant spirits (the descendants of the ancient dwarfs) has been a very general topic of belief, and in some parts of Wales, of Scotland, and Ireland, is not yet exploded. The Banshee, the Brownie, &c. are of this race. So alsoand it is more to our immediate purpose as referring to the precise time in which these romances were more especially in vogue-was Orthon, the familiar of the celebrated Earl of Foix, whom Froissart describes at length. We have space but for a short extract. "So this spyrite Orthone loved so the knight, that oftentymes he wolde coe and vysite hym whyle he laye in his bedde aslepe, and outher pull hym by the eare, or els stryke at his chambre dore or wyndowe, to awake hym: and whan the knyght awoke, than he wolde saye, Orthon, let me slepe. Nay, quod Orthone, that wyll I nat do, tyll I have shewed the suche tidynges as are fallen a late. The lady, the knyghtes wyfe, wolde be sore afrayed, that her hair wolde stande up, and hyde herselfe under the clothes. Thanne the knyghte wolde saye, Why, what tidynges hast thou brought me? Quod Orthone, I am come out of Englande, or out of Hungary, or some other place, and yesterdaye I came thens, and suche thynges are fallen or suche other. So thus thys lord knew by Orthone every thynge that was done in any parte of the world." Giants are of every variety which an enormous size and horrifying countenance can admit. "A paynim hydeous and grete, massyf, stronge and felounouse, which better resembleth the devyl than any man or persone; he is as black as pytche boylled -and he had eyen al enflammed lyke fyre, his necke large and grete, his nose half a fote longe." Again: "Th' admyral of Babylone had a geant moche terryble, that was of the generacion of Golias: he had the strength of forty myghty men and stronge." Another for we quote from the romances themselves-was "twelve cubits high, his face a cubit in length, and his nose a measured palm:"-and Arthur of Little Britain " espyde a great giaunte comynge to himwarde, who was fiftene fote of length, betynge togeder his tethe as though they had been hammers strikinge on a stythy, who had in his hand a great axe, whereof the blade was well nighe three fote longe: "-and so on ad infinitum. There is no circumstance in these romances which now strikes us as absurd, which was not fully borne out by the general belief of the time. The romancewriters merely embellished, they did not create. "And zitt there shewe the, in the Rocke ther, as the trew Chayns were fastned, that Andromade a gret geaunt was bounden with, and put in presoun before Noes flode: of the whyche geaunt is a rib of his syde, that is forty fote long." This is from the pen of Sir John Mandeville, of whose book any page contains marvels enough for a romance. traveller, a knight, and a gentleman of high honour and strict veracity, and be his narrations ever so absurd, they were at the time considered worthy of full credit. Moreover, modern discoveries have confirmed the truth of some of his, apparently, most extravagant assertions. "Travellers and naturalists," says Southey, "told of more monsters than the romance-writers ever devised." He was a But it should be known for what reason God created the great giants and the little dwarfs, and subsequently the heroes. First, he produced the dwarfs, because the mountains lay waste and useless; and valuable stores of silver and gold, with gems and pearls were concealed in them. Therefore God made the dwarfs right wise and crafty, that they could distinguish good and bad, and to what use all things should be applied. They knew the use of gems-that some of them gave strength to the wearer, others made him invisible.-Therefore God gave art and wisdom to them, that they built them hollow hills; he gave them nobility, so that they, as well as the heroes, were kings and lords; and he gave them great riches. And the reason why God created the giants was, that they should slay the wild beasts and worms, and thus enable the dwarfs to cultivate the mountains in safety. But after some time, it happened that the giants became wicked and unfaithful, and did much harm to the dwarfs. Then God created the heroes, who were of a middle rank between the dwarfs and giants. And it should be known that the heroes were worthy and faithful for many years, and that they were created to come to (1) Dragons-serpents. "Through the tamer ground Of these our unimaginative days." Ogier, the Dane, one of the most celebrated of Charlemagne's peers, in the course of one of his peregrinations, entered a saloon, where he found a magnificent repast set out. No way loth to partake of it, he looked around to see who should be his boon companions, but perceived nobody at table but a well-bred horse, who (and what could a well-bred Christian have done more?) immediately rose, proffered him water, presented him viands, and then hospitably conducted him to the chamber prepared for his repose. From some such legend as this has been derived that charming tale, the delight of our childhood, and now, in our mature and declining years, by no means bereft of all its fascinations, the interesting and veritable" History of Beauty and the Beast." staunched of bledynge." The apostrophe of the dying Roland-the far-famed paladin of Charlemagne -to his sword approaches the pathetic. "Under a tree in a fayr medowe, whan he sat down on the grounde, he behelde his swerde, the best that ever was named Durandal, whyche is as moche to say as givyng an hard stroke. He took it out of the shethe and sawe it shyne moche bryght, and bycause it shold change his maister, he had moche sorowe in his hert, and wepynge he sayd in thys maner pytously, ' O swerd of valure, the fayrest that ever was, thou wert never but fayr, nor ever founde I thee but good: who may comprehende thy value? Alas, who shal have thee after me? whosomever hath thee shal never be vaynquysshed, alwaye he shall have good fortune. O my sworde, which hast been my comforte and my joye, which never hurted person that might escape from death; O my swerde, yf ony persone of no value should have thee, and I knewe it, I shold dye for sorowe.' And this is but the poor attempt at embellishment of real history, literal fact. "The knight," says Mill, the historian of chivalry, threw round his But young Partenope, in his wanderings, enters a sword all his affections. In that weapon he particuhall bedecked in most inviting style, where the good-larly trusted. It was his good sword his own good sword. He gave it a name. The sword was his only accord, and a golden cup fills itself with wine and ap-crucifix when mass was said before battle, it was proaches his lips in the most tempting mannerwithout the visible ministration of either horse or fairy. natured meats come to him in turn of their own was moreover his consolation in the moment of death." The pharmacopoeia of romance was as appropriate The Lion, whose battle with the Dragon, the valo- and excellent as its armoury. Fyerabras carried at rous Guy Earl of Warwick, in the plenitude of his his holster two little barrels of balm, by which, with a knightly zeal, undertook and achieved, followed his touch, the most deadly wounds were healed; and valiant champion, like a dog, faithfully and affection-which, unluckily for him, had as beneficent an effect ately to the close of his own life. These majestic rulers of the forest have certainly a tender penchant for humanity, and show a due and becoming deference to the precepts of the two-legged portion of creation. For when the lioness was carrying in her mouth the young Esplandian, the infant of the fair and frail Oriana, as a delicate morsel for her cubs, she chanced to meet a hermit, and in obedience to the moral truths he uttered, she laid the child gently on the ground, and suckled him from her own teats; and after having duly and for a sufficient length of time performed the office of wet-nurse to the infant, she assumed that of dry one and preceptress to the boy, constantly attending his steps, and shielding him from danger.1 The marvellous or magic swords are important adjuncts to the machinery of romance. So finely were the blades tempered, and so peculiarly were they fitted to each hand, that if dispossessed of his own sword, a hero had some difficulty to perform his devoir with another. The famous" Excalibar" was fixed in a stone from which the hand of the great Arthur alone could extract it; and when he received his mortal wound, he could not have even the relief of dying until his sword was flung on the magic lake, from which a hand emerged to catch it ere it sank. His namesake of Lytle Brytayne obtained his sword "Clarence" much in the same manner. Fyerabras would hardly have been overcome by Oliver (except for the special rule in romance, that giants are made to be worsted) had he not incautiously left one of his magic swords within his enemy's reach: and Pyramus, who was lineally descended of " Alysaunder, and of Hector and Mackabeus," had a sword with which "whomsoever is hurte shalle never be (1) Amadis de Gaul, lib. iii. on his antagonist, Olyver, as on himself. That of Pyramus is more specifically described. "Thenne Syre Pyramus and Syre Gawain alyghted, and lete theire horses graze in the meadowe and unarmed them. And then the blood ranne freshly from thyre woundes. And Pyramus toke from his page a viol full of the four waters that came out of Paradys, and with certaine balme anointed theyr woundes and wasshed them with that water, and within an hour after they were both as whole as ever they were." Arthur of Lytle Brytaine swallowed a certain drink, and" as soone as it was spread abrode in his vaynes he was thereby sodeynly all whole, and more lustyer than ever he was before, for than he thought yt his strength was doubled; and truelye in a maner so it was, for by the vertue of these herbes he had ye grace, that from thensforth there was never man that could drawe oute of his body any blode." And this was a simple decoction of a few herbs gathered during the progress of that combat, by which he was all but annihilated. The renowned Cid, being forewarned in a vision of his approaching death, prepared for it, and "calling for a precious balsam, with which the Soldan of Persia had presented him, he mingled it with rosewater, and tasted nothing else for seven days, during which, though he grew weaker and weaker, yet his countenance appeared even fairer and fresher than before." After his death, by virtue of the balsam, his body appeared fresh, fair, and rosy, as if alive, and so continued for ten years. The well, or water, of youth and beauty is indigenous to the soil of romance. It springs even in the arid soil of early German fiction, which, founded, as we have intimated, on the gloomy mythology of the (1) As a crucifir-the handle. |