,,visits ,,and ,,sketches ,,at ,,home   
,,and ,,abroad4  ,,vol4 ,,iii4          
,,visits ,,and ,,sketches ,,at ,,home   
,,and ,,abroad  ,,with ,,tales ,,and    
,,miscellanies ,,now ,,first            
,,collected4  ,,by ,,mrs4 ,,jameson1    
,,author ,,of ,,the ,,characteristics   
,,of ,,women1 ,,lives ,,of ,,celebrated 
,,female ,,sovereigns1 c4  ,,in ,,three 
,,volumes4  ,,vol4 ,,iii4  ,,second     
,,edition4     ,,london   ,,saunders    
,,and ,,otley1 ,,conduit ,,street4      
#ahce4     ,,london3   ,,ibotson ,,and  
,,palmer1 ,,printers1 ,,savoy ,,street1 
,,strand4     ,,contents ,,of ,,vol4    
,,iii4                                  
,,page    ,sketch of ,mrs4 ,siddons     
#c   ,sketch of ,fanny ,kemble          
#di   ,the ,false ,one                  
#ic   ,halloran the ,pedlar             
#agg   ,the ,indian ,mother             
#bca   ,much ,coin1 ,much ,care         
#bfc   ,,vol4 ,,iii4      ,page #db1    
line #e1 for the full stop read a comma1
 and for she had       read having4     

#ei1--d1 for cannot read could not4     
,,mrs4 ,,siddons4   ,the following      
little sketch was written a few days    
after the death of ,mrs4 ,siddons1 and  
was called forth by certain paragraphs  
which appeared in the daily papers4 ,a  
misapprehension of the real character of
 this remarkable woman1 which ,i know to
 exist in the minds of many who admired 
and venerated her talents1 has induced  
me to enlarge the first very slight     
sketch1 into a more finished but still  
inadequate portrait4 ,i have spared no  
pains to verify the truth of my own     
conception by testimony of every kind   
that was attainable4 ,i have penned     
every word as if ,i had been in that    
great final court where the thoughts of 
all hearts are manifested2 and those who
 best knew the individual ,i have       
attempted to delineate bear witness to  
the fidelity of the portrait1 as far as 
it goes4 ,i must be permitted to add1   
that in this and the succeeding sketch  
,i have not only been inspired by the   

wish to do justice to individual virtue 
and talent1--,i wished to impress and   
illustrate that important truth1 that a 
gifted woman may pursue a public        
vocation1 yet preserve the purity and   
maintain the dignity of her sex--that   
there is no prejudice which will not    
shrink away before moral energy1 and no 
profession which may not be made        
compatible with the respect due to us as
 women1 the cultivation of every        
feminine virtue1 and the practice of    
every private duty4 ,i might here       
multiply examples and exceptions1 and   
discuss causes and results2 but it is a 
consideration ,i reserve for another    
opportunity4     ,,mrs4 ,,siddons       
,implora pace6--,she1 who upon earth    
ruled the souls and senses of men1 as   
the moon rules the surge of waters2 the 
acknowledged and liege empress of all   
the realms of illusion2 the crowned     
queen2 the throned muse2 the sceptred   
shadow of departed genius1 majesty1 and 
beauty1--supplicates--,peace6  ,what    

unhallowed work has been going forward  
in some of the daily papers since this  
illustrious creature has been laid in   
her quiet unostentatious grave6 ay1 even
 before her poor remains were cold6     
,what pains have been taken to cater    
trifling scandal for the blind1         
heartless1 gossip-loving vulgar6 and to 
throw round the memory of a woman1 whose
 private life was as irreproachable as  
her public career was glorious1 some    
ridiculous or unamiable association     
which should tend to unsphere her from  
her throne in our imagination1 and      
degrade from her towering pride of      
place1 the heroine of ,shakspeare1 and  
the ,muse of ,tragedy6  ,that stupid    
malignity which revels in the martyrdom 
of fame--which rejoices when1 by some   
approximation of the mean and ludicrous 
with the beautiful and sublime1 it can  
for a moment bring down the rainbow-like
 glory in which the fancy invests       
genius1 to the drab-coloured level of   
mediocrity--is always hateful and       

contemptible2 but in the present case it
 is something worse2 it has a peculiar  
degree of cowardly injustice4 ,if some  
elegant biographer inform us that the   
same hand which painted the infant      
,hercules1 or ,ugolino1 or ,mrs4        
,sheridan1 half seraph and half         
saint--could clutch a guinea with       
satisfaction1 or drive a bargain with a 
footman2 if some discreet friend1 from  
the mere love of truth1 no doubt1 reveal
 to us the puerile1 lamentable frailties
 of that bright spirit which poured     
itself forth in torrents of song and    
passion3 what then8 'tis pitiful1       
certainly1 wondrous pitiful2 but there  
is no great harm done1--no irremediable 
injury inflicted2 for there stand their 
works3 the poet's immortal page1 the    
painter's breathing canvass witness for 
them4 ,death hath had no power yet upon 
their beauty--over them scandal cannot  
draw her cold slimy finger2--on them    
calumny cannot breathe her mildew2 nor  
envy wither them with a blast from hell4

 ,there they stand for ever to confute  
injustice1 to rectify error1 to defy    
malice2 to silence1 and long outlive the
 sneer1 the lie1 the jest1 the reproach4
 ,but she--who was of painters the      
model1 the wonder1 the despair2--she1   
who realised in her own presence and    
person the poet's divinest dreams and   
noblest creations2--she1 who has        
enriched our language with a new        
epithet1 and made the word ,siddonian   
synonymous with all we can imagine of   
feminine grace and grandeur3 she has    
left nothing behind her1 but the memory 
of a great name3 she has bequeathed it  
to our reverence1 our gratitude1 our    
charity1 and our sympathy2 and if it is 
not to be sacred1 ,i know not what      
is--or ever will be4  ,mrs4 ,siddons1 as
 an artist1 presented a singular example
 of the union of all the faculties1     
mental and physical1 which constitute   
excellence in her art1 directed to the  
end for which they seemed created4 ,in  
any other situation or profession1 some 

one or other of her splendid gifts would
 have been misplaced or dormant4 ,it was
 her especial good fortune1 and not less
 that of the time in which she lived1   
that this wonderful combination of      
mental powers and external graces1 was  
fully and completely developed by the   
circumstances in which she was placed4#a
 ,with the most commanding beauty of    
face and form1 and varied grace of      
action2 with the most noble combination 
of features1 and extensive capability of
 expression in each of them2 with an    
unequalled genius for her art1 the      
utmost patience in study1 and the       
strongest ardour of feeling2 there was  
not a passion which she could not       
delineate2 not the nicest shade1 not the
 most delicate modification of passion1 
which she could not seize with          
philosophical accuracy1 and render with 
such immediate force of nature and      
truth1 as well as precision1 that what  
was the result of profound study and    
unwearied practice1 appeared like sudden

 inspiration4 ,there was not a height of
 grandeur to which she could not soar1  
nor a darkness of misery to which she   
could not descend2 not a chord of       
feeling1 from the sternest to the most  
delicate1 which she could not cause to  
vibrate at her will4 ,she had reached   
that point of perfection in art1 where  
it ceases to be art1 and becomes a      
second nature4 ,she had studied most    
profoundly the powers and capabilities  
of language2 so that the most critical  
sagacity could not have suggested a     
delicacy of emphasis1 by which the      
meaning of the author might be more     
distinctly conveyed1 or a shade of      
intonation by which the sentiment could 
be more fully1 or more faithfully       
expressed4 ,while other performers of   
the past or present time1 have made     
approaches to excellence1 or attained it
 now and then1 ,mrs4 ,siddons alone was 
pronounced faultless2 and1 in her1 the  
last generation witnessed what we shall 
not see in ours2--no1 nor our children  

after us2--that amazing union of        
splendid intellectual powers1 with      
unequalled charms of person1 which1 in  
the tragic department of her art1       
realized the idea of perfection4  ,such 
was the magnificent portrait drawn of   
,mrs4 ,siddons twenty years ago2 and it 
will be admitted by those who remember  
her1 and must be believed by those who  
do not1 that in this case1 eulogy could 
not wander into exaggeration1 nor       
enthusiasm be exalted beyond the bounds 
of truth4  ,i have heard people most    
unreasonably surprised or displeased1   
because this exceeding dignity of       
demeanour was not confined to the stage1
 but was carried into private life4 ,had
 it been merely conventional1--a thing  
put on and put off1--it might have been 
so2 but the grandeur of her mind1 and   
the light of her glorious beauty1 were  
not as a diadem and robe for state      
occasions only2 her's was not only      
dignity of manner and person1 it was    
moral and innate1 and1 ,i may add1      

hereditary4 ,mrs4 ,siddons1 with all her
 graces of form and feature1 her        
magnificence of deportment1 her         
deep-toned1 measured voice1 and         
impressive enunciation1 was in reality a
 softened reflection of her more stern1 
stately1 majestic mother1 whose genuine 
loftiness of spirit and of bearing1     
whose rare beauty1 and imperious        
despotism of character1 have often been 
described to me as absolutely           
awful1--even her children trembled in   
her presence4  ,all the ,kembles1 said  
,sir ,thomas ,lawrence1 have historical 
faces2 and for several generations their
 minds seem to have been cast in a      
poetical mould4 ,it has1 however1 been  
disputed1 whether ,mrs4 ,siddons        
possessed genius4 ,whether genius be    
exclusively defined as the creative and 
inventive faculty of the soul1 or taken1
 in its usual acceptation1 as a mind of 
large general faculties1 accidentally   
determined to some particular direction1
 ,i think she did possess it in both    

senses4 ,the grand characteristic of her
 mind was power1 but it was power of a  
very peculiar kind3 it was slowly       
roused--slowly developed--not easily    
moved2 her perceptions were not rapid1  
nor her sensations quick2 she required  
time for every thing1--time to think1   
time to comprehend1 time to speak4      
,there was nothing superficial about    
her2 no vivacity of manner2 to petty    
gossip she would not descend1 and       
evil-speaking she abhorred2 she cared   
not to shine in general conversation4   
,like some majestic ,argosie1 bearing   
freight of precious metal1 she was      
a-ground and cumbrous and motionless    
among the shallows of common life2 but  
set her upon the deep waters of poetry  
and passion--there was her              
element--there was her reign4 ,ask her  
an opinion1 she could not give it you   
till she had looked on the subject1 and 
considered it on every side1--then you  
might trust to it without appeal4 ,her  
powers1 though not easily put in motion1

 were directed by an incredible energy2 
her mind1 when called to action1 seemed 
to rear itself up like a great wave of  
the sea1 and roll forwards with an      
irresistible force4 ,this prodigious    
intellectual power was one of her chief 
characteristics4 ,another was truth1    
which in the human mind is generally    
allied with power4 ,it is1 ,i think1 a  
mistaken idea1 that habits of           
impersonation on the stage tend to      
impair the sincerity or the             
individuality of a character4 ,if any   
injury is done in this way1 it is by the
 continual and strong excitement of the 
vanity1 the dependence on applause1     
which in time may certainly corrode away
 the integrity of the manner1 if not of 
the mind4 ,it is difficult for an       
admired actress not to be vain1 and     
difficult for a very vain person to be  
quite unaffected1 on or off the stage2  
it is1 however1 certain that some of the
 truest1 most natural persons ,i ever   
met with in my life1 were actresses4 ,in

 the character of ,mrs4 ,siddons1 truth1
 and a reverence for truth1 were        
commensurate with her vast power3       
,heaven is not farther removed from     
earth than she was from falsehood4      
,allied to this conscientious turn was  
her love of order4 ,she was extremely   
punctual in all her arrangements2       
methodical and exact in every thing she 
did2 circumstantial and accurate in all 
she said4 ,in little and in great       
things1 in the very texture and         
constitution of her mind1 she was       
integrity itself3 ,it was1 7said one of 
her most intimate friends17 a mind far  
above the average standard1 not only in 
ability1 but in moral and religious     
qualities2 that these should have       
exhausted themselves in the world of    
fiction1 may be regretted in reference  
to her individual happiness1 but she    
certainly exercised1 during her reign1 a
 most powerful moral influence3--she    
excited the nobler feelings and higher  
faculties of every mind which came in   

contact with her own4 ,i speak with the 
deepest sense of personal obligation3 it
 was at a very early age that she       
repeated to me1 in a manner and tone    
which left an indelible impression1     
',sincerity1   ,thou first of virtues6  
let no mortal leave   ,thy onward path1'
 c4   and ,i never knew her to omit an  
opportunity of making her fine genius   
minister to piety and virtue4 ,now what 
are the bravos of a whole theatre1      
,when all the thunder of the pit        
ascends1   compared to such praise as   
this8  ,her mind 7again ,i am enabled to
 give the very words of one who knew her
 well7 was a perfect mirror of the      
sublime and beautiful2 like a lake that 
reflected only the heavens above1 or the
 summits of the mountains around1       
nothing below a certain level could     
appear in it4 ,the ideal was her vital  
air4 ,she breathed with difficulty in   
the atmosphere of this 'working-day     
world1' and withdrew from it as much as 
possible4 ,hence her moral principles   

were seldom brought to bear upon the    
actual and ordinary concerns of life4   
,she was rather the associate of 'the   
mighty dead1' than the fellow-creature  
of the living4 ,to the latter she was   
known chiefly through others1 and often 
through those who were incapable of     
reflecting her qualities faithfully1    
though impressed with the utmost        
veneration for her genius4 ,in their    
very anxiety for what they considered   
her interests1 7and of her worldly      
interests she took no charge17 they     
would in her name authorize prudential  
arrangements1 which gave rise to the    
suspicion of covetousness1 whilst she   
was sitting rapt in heavenly            
contemplation4 ,had she given her mind  
to the consideration and investigation  
of relative claims1 she might on some   
occasions have acted differently--or1   
rather1 she would have acted where in   
fact others only acted3 for never1 as ,i
 have reason to believe1 was a case of  
distress presented to her without her   

being ready to give even till her 'hand 
lacked means4' ,many of the poor in her 
neighbourhood were pensioned by her4    
,she was credulous--simple--to an       
extraordinary degree4 ,profession had1  
therefore1 too much weight with her4    
,she was accustomed to manifestations of
 the sentiments she excited1 and in     
seeking the demonstration sometimes     
overlooked the silent reality2--this was
 a consequence of her profession4  ,she 
was not only exact in the performance of
 her religious duties2 her religion was 
a pervading sentiment1 influencing her  
to the strictest observance of truth and
 charity--,i mean charity in judging    
others3 the very active and excursive   
benevolence which    ',seeks the duty1  
nay1 prevents the need1'   would have   
been incompatible with her toilsome     
engrossing avocations and with the      
visionary tendencies of her character4  
,but the visionary has his own sphere of
 action1 and can often touch the        
master-springs of other minds1 so as to 

give the first impulse to the good deeds
 flowing from them4 ,there are some who 
can trace back to the sympathies which  
,mrs4 ,siddons awakened1 their          
devotedness to the cause of the         
suffering and oppressed4 ,faithfully did
 she perform the part in life which she 
believed allotted to her2 and who may   
presume to judge that she did not choose
 the better part8  ,the idea that she   
was a cold woman is eminently false4    
,her affections1 like her intellectual  
powers1 were slow1 but tenacious2 they  
enveloped in folds1 strong as flesh and 
blood1 those whom she had found worthy  
and taken to her heart2 and her         
happiness was more entwined with them   
than those who knew her only in her     
professional character could have       
supposed2 she would return home from the
 theatre1 every nerve thrilling with the
 excitement of sympathy1 and applause1  
and admiration1 and a cold look or word 
from her husband has sent her to bed in 
tears4 ,she had that sure indication of 

a good heart and a fine mind1 an        
exceeding love for children1 and a power
 to attract and amuse them4 ,it was     
remarked that her voice always softened 
in addressing a child4 ,i remember a    
letter of her's relative to a young     
mother and her infant1 in which1 among  
other tender and playful things1 she    
says1 ,i wonder whether ,lady ,n---- is 
as good a talker of baby-nonsense as ,i 
flatter myself ,i am6 ,a lady who was   
intimate with her1 happening to enter   
her bedroom early one morning1 found her
 with two of her little grand-children  
romping on her bed1 and playing with the
 tresses of her long dark hair1 which   
she had let down for their amusement4   
,her own children adored her2 her       
surviving friends refer to her with     
tenderness1 with gratitude1 even with   
tears4 ,i speak here of what ,i know4 ,i
 have seldom been more touched to the   
heart than by the perusal of some of her
 most private letters and notes1 which  
for tenderness of sentiment1 genuine    

feeling1 and simple yet forcible        
expression1 could not be surpassed4#b   
,actress though she was1 she had no idea
 of doing any thing for the sake of     
appearances1 or of courting popularity  
by any means but excellence in her art4 
,she loved the elegances and refinements
 of life--enjoyed1 and freely shared    
what she had toiled to obtain--and in   
the earlier part of her career was the  
frequent victim of her own kind and     
careless nature4 ,she has been known to 
give generously1 nobly1--to sympathize  
warmly2 but did she deny to greedy      
selfishness or spendthrift vanity the   
twentieth demand on her purse or her    
benevolence8 ,was she1 while absorbed in
 her poetical1 ideal existence1 the dupe
 of exterior shows in judging of        
character8 ,or did she1 from total      
ignorance of1 or indifference to1 the   
common-place prejudices1 or customary   
forms of society1 unconsciously wound   
the amour-propre of some shallow        
flatterer or critic1--or by bringing the

 gravity and glory of her histrionic    
impersonations into the frivolities and 
hard realities of this our world1 render
 herself obnoxious to vulgar            
ridicule8--then was she made to feel    
what it is to live in the public eye3   
then flew round the malignant slander1  
the vengeful lie1 the base sneer1 the   
impertinent misinterpretation of what   
few could understand and fewer feel6    
,reach her these libels could not--but  
sometimes they reached those whose      
affectionate reverence fenced her round 
from the rude contact of real life4 ,in 
some things ,mrs4 ,siddons was like a   
child4 ,i have heard anecdotes of her   
extreme simplicity1 which by the force  
of contrast made me smile--at them1 not 
at her3 who could have laughed at ,mrs4 
,siddons8 ,i should as soon have thought
 of laughing at the ,delphic ,sybil4    
,as an artist1 her genius appears to    
have been slowly developed4 ,she did    
not1 as it has been said of her niece1  
spring at once into the chair of the    

tragic muse2 but toiled her way up to   
glory and excellence in her profession1 
through length of time1 difficulties1   
and obstacles innumerable4 ,she was     
exclusively professional2 and all her   
attainments1 and all her powers1 seem to
 have been directed to one end and aim4 
,yet ,i suppose no one would have said  
of ,mrs4 ,siddons1 that she was a mere  
actress1 as it was usually said of      
,garrick1 that he was a mere            
player2--the most admirable and         
versatile actor that ever existed2 but  
still the mere player2--nothing         
more--nothing better4 ,he does not      
appear to have had a tincture of that   
high gentlemanly feeling1 that native   
elevation of character1 and general     
literary taste which strike us in ,john 
,kemble and his brother ,charles2 nor   
any thing of the splendid imagination1  
the enthusiasm of art1 the personal     
grace and grandeur1 which threw such a  
glory around ,mrs4 ,siddons4 ,of ,john  
,kemble it might be said1#c as ,dryden  

said of ,harte in his time1 that kings  
and princes might have come to him1 and 
taken lessons how to comport themselves 
with dignity4 ,and with the noble       
presence of ,mrs4 ,siddons1 we          
associated in public and in private1    
something absolutely awful4 ,we were    
accustomed to bring her before our fancy
 as one habitually elevated above the   
sphere of familiar life1--    ,attired  
in all the majesty of art--   ,crown'd  
with the rich traditions of a soul      
,that hates to have her dignity profan'd
   ,by any relish of an earthly         
thought4#d   ,who was it8--7,i think    
,northcote the painter17 who said he had
 seen a group of young ladies of rank1  
,lady ,fannys and ,lady ,marys1 peeping 
through the half-open door of a room    
where ,mrs4 ,siddons was sitting1 with  
the same timidity and curiosity as if it
 had been some preternatural            
being1--much more than if it had been   
the queen3 which ,i can easily believe4 
,i remember that the first time ,i found

 myself in the same room with ,mrs4     
,siddons1 7,i was then about twenty17 ,i
 gazed on her as ,i should have gazed at
 one of the ,egyptian pyramids--nay1    
with a deeper awe1 for what is material 
and physical immensity1 compared with   
moral and poetical grandeur8 ,i was     
struck with a sensation which made my   
heart pause1 and rendered me dumb for   
some minutes2 and when ,i was led into  
conversation with her1 my first words   
came faltering and thick1--which never  
certainly would have been the case in   
presence of the autocratrix of all the  
,russias4 ,the greatest1 the noblest in 
the land approached her with a deference
 not unmingled with a shade of          
embarrassment1 while she stood in regal 
guise majestic1 with the air of one who 
bestowed and never received honour4#e   
,nor was this feeling of her power1     
which was derived1 partly from her own  
peculiar dignity of deportment1 partly  
from her association with all that was  
grand1 poetical1 terrible1 confined to  

those who could appreciate the full     
measure of her endowments4 ,every member
 of that public1 whose idol she was1    
from the greatest down to the meanest1  
felt it more or less4 ,i knew a poor    
woman who once went to the house of     
,mrs4 ,siddons to be paid by her        
daughter for some embroidery4 ,mrs4     
,siddons happened to be in the room1 and
 the woman perceiving who it was1 was so
 overpowered1 that she could not count  
her money1 and scarcely dared to draw   
her breath4 ,and when ,i went away1     
ma'am1 added she1 in describing her own 
sensations1 ,i walked all the way down  
the street1 feeling myself a great deal 
taller4 ,this was the same unconscious  
feeling of the sublime1 which made      
,bouchardon say that1 after reading the 
,iliad1 he fancied himself seven feet   
high4  ,she modelled very beautifully1  
and in this talent1 which was in a      
manner intuitive1 she displayed a       
creative as well as an imitative power4 
,might we not say that in the peculiar  

character of her genius--in the         
combination of the very real with the   
very ideal1 of the demonstrative and the
 visionary1 of vastness and symmetry1 of
 the massive material and the grand     
unearthly forms into which it shaped    
itself--there was something analogous to
 sculpture8 ,at all events1 it is the   
opinion of many who knew her1 that if   
she had not been a great actress she    
would have devoted herself to sculpture4
 ,she was never so happy as when        
occupied with her modelling tools2 she  
would stand at her work eight hours     
together1 scarcely turning her head4    
,music she passionately loved3 in her   
younger days her voice in singing was   
exquisitely sweet and flexible4 ,she    
would sometimes compose verses1 and sing
 them to an extemporaneous air2 but ,i  
believe she did not perform on any      
instrument4  ,to complete this sketch ,i
 shall add an outline of her            
professional life4  ,mrs4 ,siddons was  
born in #agee4 ,she might be said1      

almost without metaphor1 to have been   
born on the stage4 ,all the family1 ,i  
believe1 for two or three generations1  
had been players4 ,in her early life she
 endured many vicissitudes1 and was     
acquainted with misery and hardship in  
many repulsive forms4 ,on this subject  
she had none of the pride of a little   
mind2 but alluded to her former         
situation with perfect simplicity4 ,the 
description in ,mrs4 ,inchbald's        
,memoirs of ,mrs4 ,siddons singing and  
mending her children's clothes1 is from 
the life1 and charming as well as       
touching1 when we consider her peculiar 
character and her subsequent destinies4 
,she was in her twenty-first year when  
she made her first attempt in ,london1  
7for it was but an attempt17 in the     
character of ,portia4 ,she also appeared
 as ,lady ,anne in ,richard ,,iii4 and  
in comedy as ,mrs4 ,strickland to       
,garrick's ,ranger4 ,she was not        
successful3 ,garrick is said to have    
been jealous of her rising powers3 the  

public did not discover in her the      
future tragic muse1 and for             
herself--,she felt that she was greater 
than she knew4 ,she returned to her     
provincial career2 she spent seven years
 in patient study1 in reflection1 in    
contemplation1 and in mastering the     
practical part of her profession2 and   
then she returned at the age of         
twenty-eight1 and burst upon the world  
in the prime of her beauty and          
transcendent powers1 with all the       
attributes of confirmed and acknowledged
 excellence4  ,it appears that1 in her  
first season1 she did not play one of   
,shakspeare's characters3 she performed 
,isabella1 ,euphrasia1 ,jane ,shore1    
,calista1 and ,zara4 ,in a visit she    
paid to ,dr4 ,johnson1 at the conclusion
 of the season1 she informed him that it
 was her intention1 the following year1 
to bring out some of ,shakspeare's      
heroines1 particularly ,katherine of    
,arragon1 to which she then gave the    
preference as a character4 ,dr4 ,johnson

 agreed with her1 and added that1 when  
she played ,katherine1 he would hobble  
to the theatre himself to see her2 but  
he did not live to pay her this tribute 
of admiration4 ,he1 however1 paid her   
another not less valuable3 describing   
his visitor after her departure1 he     
said1 she left nothing behind her to be 
censured or despised2 neither praise nor
 money1 those two powerful corrupters of
 mankind1 seem to have depraved her4#f  
,in this interview she seems to have    
pleased the old critic and moralist1 who
 was also a severe and acute judge of   
human nature1 and not inclined to judge 
favourably of actresses1 by the union of
 modesty with native dignity which at   
all times distinguished her2--a rare    
union6 and most delightful in those who 
are the objects of the public gaze1 and 
when the popular enthusiasm is still in 
all its first intoxicating              
effervescence4  ,the first of           
,shakspeare's characters which ,mrs4    
,siddons performed was ,isabella1 in    

,measure for ,measure1 7#aghd17 and the 
next ,constance4 ,in the same year ,sir 
,joshua painted her as the tragic       
,muse4#g ,with what a deep interest     
shall we now visit this her true        
apotheosis1--now that it has received   
its last consecration6 ,the rest of     
,shakspeare's characters followed in    
this order3 ,lady ,macbeth in #aghe1    
and1 soon afterwards1 as if by way of   
contrast1 ,desdemona1 ,ophelia1         
,rosalind4 ,in #aghf she played ,imogen2
 in #aghh ,katherine of ,arragon2 and1  
in #aghi1 ,volumnia2 and in the same    
season she played ,juliet1 being then in
 her thirty-fifth year1--too old for    
,juliet2 nor did this ever become one of
 her popular parts2 she left it to her  
niece to identify herself for ever with 
the poetry and sensibility1 the youthful
 grace and fervid passion of            
,shakspeare's ,juliet2 and we have as   
little chance of ever seeing such       
another ,juliet as ,fanny ,kemble1 as of
 ever seeing such another ,lady ,macbeth

 as her magnificent aunt4  ,a good      
critic1 who was also a great admirer of 
,mrs4 ,siddons1 asserts that there must 
be something in acting which levels all 
poetical distinctions1 since people     
talked in the same breath of her ,lady  
,macbeth and ,mrs4 ,beverley as being   
equally fine pieces of acting4 ,i think 
he is mistaken4 ,no one--no one at least
 but the most vulgar part of her        
audience--ever equalized these two      
characters1 even as pieces of acting2 or
 imagined for a moment that the same    
degree of talent which sufficed to      
represent ,mrs4 ,beverley could have    
grasped the towering grandeur of such a 
character as ,lady ,macbeth2--dived into
 its profound and gloomy depths--seized 
and reflected its wonderful             
gradations--displayed its               
magnificence--developed its beauties1   
and revealed its terrors3 no such thing4
 ,she might have drawn more tears in    
,isabella than in ,constance--thrown    
more young ladies into hysterics in     

,belvidera than in ,katherine of        
,arragon2 but all with whom ,i have     
conversed on the subject of ,mrs4       
,siddons1 are agreed in this2--that her 
finest characters1 as pieces of art1    
were those which afforded the fullest   
scope for her powers1 and contained in  
themselves the largest materials in     
poetry1 grandeur1 and passion3          
consequently1 that her ,constance1      
,katherine of ,arragon1 ,volumnia1      
,hermione1 and ,lady ,macbeth stood     
pre-eminent4 ,in playing ,jane de       
,montfort1 in ,joanna ,baillie's        
tragedy1 her audience almost lost the   
sense of impersonation in the feeling of
 identity4 ,she was ,jane de            
,montfort--the actress1 the woman1 the  
character1 blended into each other4 ,it 
is a mistaken idea that she herself     
preferred the part of ,aspasia 7in      
,rowe's ,bajazet7 to any of these grand 
impersonations4 ,she spoke of it as one 
in which she had produced the most      
extraordinary effect on the nerves of   

her audience2 and this is true4 ,i      
recollect1 said a gentleman to me1 being
 present at one of the last             
representations of ,bajazet3 and at the 
moment when the order is given to       
strangle ,moneses1 while ,aspasia stands
 immoveable in front of the stage1 ,i   
turned my head1 unable to endure more1  
and to my amazement ,i beheld the whole 
pit staring ghastly1 with upward faces1 
dilated eyes1 and mouths wide           
open--gasping--fascinated4 ,nor shall ,i
 ever forget the strange effect produced
 by that sea of human faces1 all fixed  
in one simultaneous expression of stony 
horror4 ,it realized for a moment the   
fabled power of the ,medusa--it was     
terrible6  ,of all her great characters1
 ,lord ,byron1 ,i believe1 preferred    
,constance1 to which she gave the       
preference herself1 and esteemed it the 
most difficult and the most finished of 
all her impersonations2 but the general 
opinion stamps her ,lady ,macbeth as the
 grandest effort of her art2 and        

therefore1 as she was the first in her  
art1 as the ne plus ultra of acting4    
,this at least was the opinion of one   
who admired her with all the fervour of 
a kindred genius1 and could lavish on   
her praise of such rich words composed  
as made the gift more sweet4 ,of her    
,lady ,macbeth1 he says1 nothing could  
have been imagined grander1--it was     
something above nature2 it seemed almost
 as if a being of a superior order had  
dropped from a higher sphere to awe the 
world with the majesty of her           
appearance4 ,power was seated on her    
brow1 passion emanated from her breast  
as from a shrine4 ,in coming on in the  
sleeping scene1 her eyes were open1 but 
their sense was shut2 she was like a    
person bewildered3 her lips moved       
involuntarily2 all her gestures seemed  
mechanical--she glided on and off the   
stage like an apparition4 ,to have seen 
her in that character was an event in   
every one's life never to be forgotten4 
,by profound and incessant study she had

 brought her conception and             
representation of this character to such
 a pitch of perfection that the         
imagination could conceive of nothing   
more magnificent or more finished2 and  
yet she has been heard to say1 after    
playing it for thirty years1 that she   
never read over the part without        
discovering in it something new2 nor    
ever went on the stage to perform it1   
without spending the whole morning in   
studying and meditating it1 line by     
line1 as intently as if she were about  
to act it for the first time4 ,in this  
character she bid farewell to her       
profession and the public1 7,june #bith1
 #ahab47 ,the audience1 on this         
occasion1 paid her a singular and       
touching tribute of respect4 ,on her    
going off in the sleeping scene1 they   
commanded the curtain to fall1 and would
 not suffer the play to proceed4#h  ,the
 idea that ,mrs4 ,siddons was quite     
unmoved by the emotions she             
portrayed--the sorrows and the passions 

she embodied with such inimitable skill 
and truth1 is altogether false4 ,fine   
acting may accidentally be mere impulse2
 it never can be wholly mechanical4 ,to 
a late period of her life she continued 
to be strongly1 sometimes painfully1    
excited by her own acting2 the part of  
,constance always affected her          
powerfully--she invariably left the     
stage1 her face streaming with tears2   
and after playing ,lady ,macbeth1 she   
could not sleep3 even after reading the 
play of ,macbeth a feverish1 wakeful    
night was generally the consequence4  ,i
 am not old enough to remember ,mrs4    
,siddons in her best days2 but1 judging 
from my own recollections1 ,i should say
 that1 to hear her read one of          
,shakspeare's plays1 was a higher1 a    
more complete gratification1 and a more 
astonishing display of her powers than  
her performance of any single character4
 ,on the stage she was the perfect      
actress2 when she was reading           
,shakspeare1 her profound enthusiastic  

admiration of the poet1 and deep insight
 into his most hidden beauties1 made her
 almost a poetess1 or at least1 like a  
priestess1 full of the god of her       
idolatry4 ,her whole soul looked out    
from her regal brow and effulgent eyes2 
and then her countenance6--the          
inconceivable flexibility and musical   
intonations of her voice6 there was no  
got-up illusion here3 no scenes--no     
trickery of the stage2 there needed no  
sceptred pall--no sweeping train1 nor   
any of the gorgeous accompaniments of   
tragedy3--,,she was ,tragedy6 ,when in  
reading ,macbeth she said1 give me the  
daggers6 they gleamed before our eyes4  
,the witch scenes in the same play she  
rendered awfully terrific by the magic  
of looks and tones2 she invested the    
weird sisters with all their own        
infernal fascinations2 they were the    
serious1 poetical1 tragical personages  
which the poet intended them to be1 and 
the wild grotesque horror of their      
enchantments made the blood curdle4     

,when1 in ,king ,john1 she came to the  
passage beginning--            ,if the  
midnight bell1   ,did with his iron     
tongue and brazen note1 c4   ,i remember
 ,i felt every drop of blood pause1 and 
then run backwards through my veins with
 an overpowering awe and horror4 ,no    
scenic representation ,i ever witnessed 
produced the hundredth part of the      
effect of her reading ,hamlet4 ,this    
tragedy was the triumph of her art4     
,hamlet and his mother1 ,polonius1      
,ophelia1 were all there before us4     
,those who ever heard her give          
,ophelia's reply to ,hamlet1            
,hamlet4 ,i loved you not4              
,ophelia4 ,i was the more deceived6     
and the lines--    ,and ,i1 of ladies   
most deject and wretched1   ,that suck'd
 the honey of his music vows1 c4   will 
never forget their exquisite pathos4    
,what a revelation of love and woe was  
there6--the very heart seemed to break  
upon the utterance4  ,lear was another  
of her grandest efforts2 but her rare   

talent was not confined to tragedy2 none
 could exceed her in the power to       
conceive and render witty and humorous  
character4 ,i thought ,i had never      
understood or felt the comic force of   
such parts as ,polonius1 ,lucio1        
,gratiano1 and ,shakspeare's clowns1    
till ,i heard the dialogue from her     
lips3 and to hear her read the ,merchant
 of ,venice and ,as ,you ,like ,it1 was 
hardly a less perfect treat than to hear
 her read ,macbeth4  ,the following     
short extract from a letter of ,mrs4    
,joanna ,baillie1 dated about a year    
before the death of ,mrs4 ,siddons will1
 ,i am persuaded1 be read with a double 
interest1 for her sake who penned it1   
not less than hers who is the subject of
 it4  ,the most agreeable thing ,i have 
to begin with1 is a visit we paid last  
week to ,mrs4 ,siddons4 ,we had met her 
at dinner at ,mr4 ,rogers's a few days  
before1 and she kindly asked us1 our    
host and his sister1 the ,thursday      
following2 an invitation which we gladly

 accepted1 though we expected to see    
much decay in her powers of expression1 
and consequently to have our pleasure   
mingled with pain4 ,judge then of our   
delight when we heard her read the best 
scenes of ,hamlet1 with expression of   
countenance1 voice1 and action1 that    
would have done honour to her best days6
 ,she was before us as an unconquerable 
creature1 over whose astonishing gifts  
of nature time had no power4#i ,she     
complained of her voice1 which she said 
was not obedient to her will2 but it    
appeared to my ear to be peculiarly true
 to nature1 and the more so1 because it 
had lost that deep solemnity of tone    
which she1 perhaps1 had considered as an
 excellence4 ,i thought ,i could trace  
in the pity and tenderness1 mixed with  
her awe of the ghost1 the natural       
feelings of one who had lost dear       
friends1 and expected to go to them     
soon2 and her reading of that scene1    
7the noblest which dramatic art ever    
achieved17 went to my heart as it had   

never done before4 ,at the end1 ,mr4    
,rogers very justly said1 ',oh1 that we 
could have assembled a company of young 
people to witness this1 that they might 
have conveyed the memory of it down to  
another generation6' ,in short1 we left 
her full of admiration1 as well as of   
gratitude1 that she had made such an    
exertion to gratify so small an         
audience2 for1 exclusive of her own     
family1 we were but five4  ,she         
continued to exercise her power of      
reading and reciting long after the date
 of this letter1 even till within a few 
days of her death1 although her health  
had long been in a declining state4#aj  
,she died at length on the #hth of      
,june1 #ahca1 after a few hours of acute
 suffering1 having lived nearly         
seventy-six years1 of which forty-six   
were spent in the constant presence and 
service of the public4 ,she was an      
honour to her profession1 which was more
 honoured and honourable in her person  
and family than it ever was before1 or  

will be hereafter1 till the stage       
becomes something very different from   
what it now is4  ,and1 since it has     
pleased some writers1 7who apparently   
knew as little of her real situation as 
of her real character17 to lament over  
the misfortune of this celebrated woman1
 in having survived all her children1 c4
 c4 it may be interesting to add that1 a
 short time before her death1 she was   
seated in a room in her own house1 when 
about thirty of her young relatives1    
children1 grand-children1 nephews and   
nieces1 were assembled1 and looked on   
while they were dancing1 with great and 
evident pleasure3 and that her surviving
 daughter1 ,cecilia ,siddons1#aa who had
 been1 for many years1 the inseparable  
friend and companion of her mother1     
attended upon her with truly filial     
devotion and reverence to the last      
moment of existence4 ,her admirers may1 
therefore1 console themselves with the  
idea that in love1 obedience1 troops of 
friends1 as well as affluence and fame1 

she had all that should accompany old   
age4 ,she died full of years and        
honours2 having enjoyed1 in her long    
life1 as much glory and prosperity as   
any mortal could expect3 having imparted
 more intense and general pleasure than 
ever mortal did2 and having paid the    
tribute of mortality in such suffering  
and sorrow as wait on the widowed wife  
and the bereaved mother4 ,if with such  
rare natural gifts were blended some    
human infirmities2--if the cultivation  
of the imaginative far above the        
perceptive faculties1 hazarded her      
individual happiness2--if in the course 
of a professional career of unexampled  
continuance and splendour1 the love of  
praise ever degenerated into the        
appetite for applause2--if the          
worshipped actress languished out of her
 atmosphere of incense1--is this to be  
made matter of wonder or of ill-natured 
comment8 ,did ever any human being      
escape more intacte in person and mind  
from the fiery furnace of popular       

admiration8 ,let us remember the        
severity of the ordeal to which she was 
exposed2 the hard lot of those who pass 
their lives in the full-noon glare of   
public observation1 where every speck is
 noted6 ,what a difference too1 between 
the aspiration after immortality and the
 pursuit of celebrity6--,the noise of   
distant and future fame is like the     
sound of the far-off sea1 and the       
mingled roll of its multitudinous waves1
 which1 as it swells on the ear1        
elevates the soul with a sublime        
emotion2 but present and loud applause1 
flung continually in one's face1 is like
 the noisy dash of the surf upon the    
rock1--and it requires the firmness of  
the rock to bear it4     ,,sketches ,,of
 ,,fanny ,,kemble ,,in ,,juliet4        
,,introduction ,,and ,,notes ,,to ,,mr4 
,,john ,,hayter',s ,,sketches ,,of      
,,fanny ,,kemble1 ,,in ,,the ,,character
 ,,of ,,juliet4#ab    ,non piace a lei  
che innumerabil turba   ,viva in atto di
 fuor1 morta di dentro1   ,le applauda a

 caso1 e mano a man percuota2   ,ne si  
rallegra se le rozzi voci   ,volgano a  
lei quelle induiti lodi--   --,ma la    
possanza del divino iugegno   ,vita di  
dentro4    ,gasparo ,gozzi--,sermone    
xiv4   ,it would be doing an injustice  
to the author of these sketches1 and    
something worse than injustice to her   
who is the subject of them1 should more 
be expected than the pencil could       
possibly convey1 and more required than 
the artist ever intended to execute4    
,their merit consists in their fidelity1
 as far as they go2 their interest in   
conveying a lively and distinct idea of 
some immediate and transient effects of 
grace and expression4 ,they do not      
assume to be portraits of ,miss ,kemble2
 they are merely a series of rapid      
outlines1 caught from her action1 and   
exhibiting1 at the first glance1 just so
 much of the individual and peculiar    
character she has thrown into her       
impersonation of ,juliet1 as at once to 
be recognised by those who have seen    

her4 ,to them alone these isolated      
passages--linked together in the        
imagination by all the intervening      
graces of attitude and sentiment1 by the
 recollection of a countenance where the
 kindled soul looks out through every   
feature1 and of a voice whose tones     
tremble into one's very heart--will give
 some faint reflection of the effect    
produced by the whole of this beautiful 
piece of acting1--or rather of nature1  
for here each seems either4 ,it will be 
allowed1 even by the most enthusiastic  
lover of painting1 that the merely      
imitative arts can do but feeble justice
 to the powers of a fine actress2 for   
what graphic skill can fix the          
evanescent shades of feeling as they    
melt one into another8--    ,what fine  
chisel could ever yet cut breath8       
--and yet even those who have not       
witnessed and may never witness ,miss   
,kemble's performance1 to whom her name 
alone can be borne through long         
intervals of space and time1 will not   

regard these little sketches without    
curiosity and interest4 ,if any one had 
thought of transferring to paper a      
connected series of some of the         
awe-commanding gestures of ,mrs4        
,siddons in one of her great parts2 or  
caught 7flying7 some of the inimitable  
graces of movement and attitude1 and    
sparkling effects of manner1 with which 
,mrs4 ,charles ,kemble once enchanted   
the world1 with what avidity would they 
now be sought6--they would have served  
as studies for their successors in art  
to the end of time4  ,all the fine arts1
 poetry excepted1 possess a limited     
range of power4 ,painting and sculpture 
can convey none of the graces that      
belong to movement and sound3 music can 
suggest vague sentiments and feelings1  
but it cannot express incident1 or      
situation1 or form1 or colour4 ,poetry  
alone grasps an unlimited sceptre1 rules
 over the whole visible and intellectual
 universe1 and knows no bounds but those
 of human genius4 ,and it is here that  

tragic acting1 considered in its        
perfection1 and in its relation to the  
fine arts1 is allied to poetry1 or      
rather is itself living1 breathing      
poetry2 made sensible in a degree to the
 hardest and dullest minds1 seizing on  
the dormant sympathies of our nature1   
and dismissing us again to the cares of 
this working-day world1 if not very much
 wiser1 or better1 or happier1 at least 
enabled to digest with less bitterness  
the mixture of our good and evil days4  
,but in the midst of the just enthusiasm
 which a great actor or actress excites1
 so long as they exist to minister to   
our delight2--in the midst of that      
atmosphere of light and life they shed  
around them1 it is a common subject of  
repining that such glory should be so   
transient2 that an art requiring in its 
perfection such a rare combination of   
mental and external qualities1 can leave
 behind no permanent monument of its own
 excellence1 but must depend on the     
other fine arts for all it can claim of 

immortality3 that ,garrick1 for         
instance1 has become a name--no         
more--his fame the echo of an echo6 that
 ,mrs4 ,siddons herself has bequeathed  
to posterity only a pictured            
semblance2--that when the voice of      
,pasta is heard no longer upon earth1   
the utmost pomp of words can only attest
 her powers6 ,the painter and the poet1 
struggling through obscurity to the     
heights of fame1 and consuming a life in
 the pursuit of 7perhaps7 posthumous    
celebrity1 may say to the sublime       
actress1--,thou in thy generation hast  
had thy meed2 we have waited patiently  
for ours3 thou art vanished like a lost 
star from the firmament1 into the       
'uncomfortable night of nothing'2 we    
have left the light of our souls behind 
us1 and survive to 'blessings and       
eternal praise6' ,and why should it not 
be so8 ,were it otherwise1 the          
even-handed distribution of the best    
gifts of ,heaven among favoured mortals 
might with reason be impugned4 ,shall   

the young spirit dampt by the necessity 
of oblivion disdain what is attainable  
because it cannot grasp all8 ,conceive  
for a moment the situation of a woman1  
in the prime and bloom of existence1    
with all her youthful enthusiasm1 her   
unworn feelings fresh about her1        
privileged to step forth for a short    
space out of the bounds of common life1 
without o'erstepping the modesty of her 
feminine nature1 permitted to cast off  
for a while1 unreproved and             
unrestrained1 the conventional trammels 
of form and manner2 and called upon to  
realise in her own presence and person  
the divinest dreams of poetry and       
romance2 to send forth in a word--a     
glance1--the electric flash which is    
felt through a thousand bosoms at once1 
till every heart beats the same measure 
with her own6 ,is there nothing in all  
this to countervail the dangers1 the    
evils1 and the vicissitudes attendant on
 this splendid and public exercise of   
talent8 ,it may possibly become1 in     

time1 a thing of habitude2 it may be    
degraded into a mere besoin de l'amour  
propre--a necessary1 yet palling        
excitement3 but in its outset it is     
surely a triumph far beyond the mere    
intoxication of personal vanity2 and to 
the very last1 it must be deemed a      
magnificent and an enviable power4  ,it 
was difficult to select for graphic     
delineation any particular points from  
,miss ,kemble's representation of       
,juliet4 ,these drawings may not1       
perhaps1 justify the enthusiasm she     
excited3 but it ought to add to their   
value rather than detract from it1 that 
the causes of their imperfection        
comprehend the very foundation on which 
the present and future celebrity of this
 young actress may be said to rest4 ,in 
the first place1 the power by which she 
seized at once on public admiration and 
sympathy1 was not derived from any thing
 external4 ,it was not founded in the   
splendour of her hereditary pretensions1
 though in them there was much to       

fascinate3 nor in the departed or fading
 glories of her race3 nor in the        
remembrance of her mother--once the     
young ,euphrosyne of our stage3 nor in  
the name and high talent of her father1 
with whom1 it was once feared the       
poetical and classical school of acting 
was destined to perish from the scene3  
nor in any mere personal advantages1 for
 in these she has been excelled1--      
,though on her eyelids many graces sit  
,under the shadow of those even brows3  
nor in her extreme youth1 and delicacy  
of figure1 which tell so beautifully in 
the character of ,juliet3 nor in the    
acclaim of public favour--              
,to have all eyes   ,dazzled with       
admiration1 and all tongues   ,shouting 
loud praises2 to rob every heart   ,of  
love--   ,this glory round about her    
hath thrown beams4   ,but such glory has
 circled other brows ere now1 and left  
them again shorn of their beams4 ,no6   
her success was founded on a power      
superior to all these--in the power of  

genius superadded to that moral interest
 which claimed irresistibly the best    
sympathies of her audience4 ,the        
peculiar circumstances and feelings     
which brought ,miss ,kemble before the  
public1 contrary 7as it is understood7  
to all the previous wishes and          
intentions of her parents1 were such as 
would have justified less decided       
talent1--honourable to herself and to   
her family4 ,the feeling entertained    
towards her on this score was really    
delightful2 it was a species of homage1 
which1 like the quality of mercy1 was   
twice blessed2 blessing those who gave  
and her who received4 ,it produced a    
feeling between herself and the public1 
which mere admiration on the one hand1  
and gratified vanity on the other1 could
 not have excited4 ,she strongly felt   
this1 and no change1 no reverse1        
diminished her feeling of the kindness  
with which she had once been received2  
but her own fervid genius and           
sensibility did as much for her4 ,she   

was herself a poetess2 her mind claimed 
a natural affinity with all that is     
feeling1 passionate1 and imaginative2   
not her voice only1 but her soul and ear
 were attuned to the harmony of verse2  
and hence she gave forth the poetry of  
such parts as ,juliet and ,portia with  
an intense and familiar power1 as though
 every line and sentiment in ,shakspeare
 had been early transplanted into her   
heart1--had long been brooded over in   
silence1--watered with her tears1--to   
burst forth at last1 like the           
spontaneous and native growth of her own
 soul4 ,an excellent critic of our own  
day has said1 that poetical enthusiasm  
is the rarest faculty among players3 if 
so1 it cannot be too highly valued4     
,fanny ,kemble possessed this rare      
faculty2 and in it1 a power that could  
not be taught1 or analysed1 or feigned1 
or put on and off with her tragic       
drapery2--it pervaded all she was called
 upon to do4 ,it was this which in the  
,grecian ,daughter made her look and    

step so like a young ,muse2 which       
enabled her1 by a single glance--a      
tone--a gesture--to elevate the         
character far above the language--and   
exalt the most common-place declamation 
into power and passion4 ,the            
indisputable fact1 that she appeared on 
the stage without any previous study or 
tuition1 ought in justice to her to be  
generally known2 it is most certain that
 she was not nineteen when she made her 
first appearance1 and that six weeks    
before her debut there was no more      
thought of her becoming an actress1 than
 of her becoming an empress4 ,the       
assertion must appear superfluous to    
those who have seen her2 for what       
teaching1 or what artificial aids1 could
 endue her with the advantages just     
described8--unless ,philosophy could    
make a ,juliet6 or what power of pencil1
 though it were dipped in the rainbow   
and tempered in the sunbeams1 could     
convey this bright intelligence1 or     
justify the enthusiasm with which it is 

hailed by her audience8 ,there is a     
second difficulty which the artist has  
had to contend with1 not less honourable
 to the actress3 the charm of her       
impersonation of ,juliet consisted not  
so much in any particular points1 as in 
the general conception of the whole     
part1 and in the sustained preservation 
and gradual development of the          
individual character1 from the first    
scene to the last4 ,where the merit lies
 in the beautiful gradations of feeling1
 succeeding each other like waves of the
 sea1 till the flood of passion swells  
and towers and sweeps away all          
perceptible distinctions1 the pencil    
must necessarily be at fault2 for as    
,madame de ,stael says truly1           
l'inexprimable est precisement ce qu'un 
grand acteur nous fait connaitre4  ,the 
first drawing is taken from the scene in
 which ,juliet first appears4 ,the      
actress has little to do1 but to look   
the character2--that is1 to convey the  
impression of a gentle1 graceful girl1  

whose passions and energies lie folded  
up within her1 like gathered lightning  
in the summer cloud2 all her affections 
soft as dews on roses1 which must ere   
long turn to the fire-shower1 and blast 
her to the earth4 ,the moment chosen is 
immediately after ,juliet's             
expostulation to her garrulous old      
nurse--,i pr'ythee1 peace6  ,the second1
 third1 and fourth sketches are all from
 the masquerade scene4 ,the manner in   
which ,juliet receives the parting      
salutations of the guests has been      
justly admired2--nothing is denied to   
genius and taste1 aided by natural      
grace1 else it might have been thought  
impossible to throw so much meaning and 
sentiment into so common an action4 ,the
 first curtsey is to ,benvolio4 ,the    
second1 to ,mercutio1 is distinctly     
marked1 as though in him she recognised 
the chosen friend of ,romeo4 ,in the    
third1 to ,romeo himself1 the bashful   
sinking of the whole figure1 the        
conscious drooping of the eyelids1 and  

the hurried1 yet graceful recovery of   
herself as she exclaims--    ,who's he  
that follows there that would not dance8
   ,go ask his name6   which is the     
subject of the third sketch2 and lastly1
 the tone in which she gave the         
succeeding lines--                      
,if he be married1   ,my grave is like  
to be my wedding-bed6   which seems1 in 
its deep quiet pathos1 to anticipate    
some consequence yet hanging in the     
stars1--form one unbroken series of the 
most beautiful and heart-felt touches of
 nature4 ,the fourth sketch is from the 
conclusion of the same scene1 where     
,juliet1 with reluctant steps and many a
 lingering look back on the portal      
through which her lover has departed1   
follows her nurse out of the            
banquet-room4  ,the two next drawings   
are from the balcony scene1 which has   
usually been considered the criterion of
 the talent of an actress in this part4 
,the first represents the action which  
accompanied the line--    ,by whose     

direction found'st thou out this place8 
,the second is the first ,good night6   
,sweet1 good night6   ,this bud of love1
 by summer's ripening breath1   ,may    
prove a beauteous flower1 when next we  
meet4   ,fanny ,kemble's conception of  
character and sentiment in this scene   
was peculiarly and entirely her own4    
,juliet1 as she properly felt1 is a     
young impassioned ,italian girl1 who has
 flung her heart1 and soul1 and         
existence upon one cast4                
,she was not made   ,thro' years or     
moons the inner weight to bear1   ,which
 colder hearts endure till they are laid
   ,by age in earth4   ,in this view1   
the pretty coyness1 the playful         
coquetterie1 which has sometimes been   
thrown into the balcony scene1 by way of
 making an effect1 is out of place1 and 
false to the poetry and feeling of the  
part3 but in ,fanny ,kemble's           
delineation1 the earnest1 yet bashful   
tenderness2 the timid1 yet growing      
confidence2 the gradual swelling of     

emotion from the depths of the heart1 up
 to that fine burst of enthusiastic     
passion--                     ,swear by 
thy gracious self1   ,that art the god  
of my idolatry1   ,and ,i'll believe    
thee6   were all as true to the         
situation and sentiment1 as they were   
beautifully and delicately conveyed4    
,the whole of the speech1 ,thou know'st 
the mask of night is on my face1 was in 
truth like softest music to attending   
ears1 from the exquisite and various    
modulation of voice with which it was   
uttered4 ,perhaps one of the most       
beautiful and entirely original points  
in the whole scene1 was the accent and  
gesture with which she gave the lines-- 
,romeo1 doff thy name2   ,and for that  
name1 which is no part of thee1         
,take--all myself6   ,the grace and     
abandon in the manner1 and the softness 
of accent1 which imparted a new and     
charming effect to this passage1 cannot 
be expressed in words2 and it was so    
delicately touched1 and so              

transitory1--so dependent1 like a       
beautiful chord in music1 on that which 
prepared and followed it1 that it was   
found impossible to seize and fix it in 
a drawing4  ,from the first scene with  
the nurse1 two drawings have been made4 
,the idea of ,juliet discovered as the  
curtain rises1 gazing from the window1  
and watching for the return of her      
confidante1 is perfectly new4 ,the      
attitude 7or more properly1 one of her  
attitudes1 for they are various as they 
are graceful and appropriate7 is given  
in the seventh sketch1 and the artist   
has conveyed it with peculiar grace and 
truth4 ,the action chosen for the eighth
 drawing occurs immediately after       
,juliet's little moment of petulance1   
7so justly provoked17 and before she    
utters in a caressing tone1 ,come1 what 
says ,romeo8 ,the first speech in this  
scene1    ,o1 she is lame6 love's       
heralds should be thoughts1   ,which ten
 times faster glide than the sun's      
beams1   ,driving back shadows over     

low'ring hills3   ,therefore do         
nimble-pinion'd doves draw love1    ,and
 therefore hath the wind-swift          
,cupid--wings4   --and the soliloquy in 
the second scene of the third act1      
,gallop apace1 ye fiery-footed steeds6  
in which there is no particular point of
 dramatic effect to be made1 are        
instances of that innate sense of       
poetical harmony1 which enabled her to  
impart the most exquisite pleasure1     
merely by her feeling1 graceful1        
animated delivery of these beautiful    
lines4 ,the most musical intonation of  
voice1 the happiest emphasis1 and the   
utmost refinement1 as well as the most  
expressive grace of action1 were here   
combined to carry passion and poetry at 
once and vividly to the heart3 but this 
perfect triumph of illusion is more than
 painting could convey4  ,the ninth and 
tenth sketches are from the second scene
 with the nurse1 called in theatrical   
phrase the ,banishment ,scene4 ,one of  
the grandest and most impressive        

passages in the whole performance was   
,juliet's reply to her nurse4           
,nurse4      ,shame come to ,romeo6     
,juliet4    ,blister'd be thy tongue1   
,for such a wish6 he was not born to    
shame3     ,upon his brow shame is      
asham'd to sit2     ,for 'tis a throne  
where honour may be crown'd     ,sole   
monarch of the universal earth4   ,the  
loftiness of look and gesture with which
 she pronounced the last line1 cannot be
 forgotten3 but the effect consisted so 
much in the action of the arm1 as she   
stepped across the stage1 and in the    
kindling eye and brow1 rather than in   
the attitude only1 that it could not    
well be conveyed in a drawing4 ,the     
first point selected is from the        
passage1 ,o break1 my heart6--poor      
bankrupt1 break at once6 in which the   
gesture is full of expressive and       
pathetic grace4 ,the tenth drawing      
represents the action which accompanied 
her exclamation1 ,tybalt is dead--and   
,romeo--banished6 ,the tone of piercing 

anguish in which she pronounced the last
 word1 banished1 and then threw herself 
into the arms of her nurse1 in all the  
helplessness of utter desolation1 formed
 one of the finest passages in her      
performance4  ,the scene in which the   
lovers part1 called the ,garden ,scene1 
follows2 and the passage selected is--  
,art thou gone so8 my love1 my lord1 my 
friend8   ,i must hear from thee every  
day i' the hour6   ,the subdued and     
tremulous intonation with which all the 
speeches in this scene were given1 as   
though the voice were broken and        
exhausted with excessive weeping2 and   
the manner in which she still1 though   
half insensible in her nurse's arms1    
signed a last farewell to her husband1  
were among the most delicate and        
original beauties of the character4     
,the two next drawings are from the     
fifth scene of the third act4 ,the      
latter part of this scene contained many
 new and beautiful touches of feeling   
which originated with ,miss ,kemble     

herself4 ,it is here that the real      
character of ,juliet is first           
developed2--it is here that1 abandoned  
by the whole world1 and left to struggle
 alone with her fearful destiny1 the    
high-souled and devoted woman takes     
place of the tender1 trembling girl4    
,the confiding1 helpless anguish with   
which she at first throws herself upon  
her nurse--7,some comfort1 nurse67--the 
gradual relaxing of her embrace1 as the 
old woman counsels her to forget ,romeo 
and marry ,paris--the tone in which she 
utters the question--          ,speakest
 thou from thy heart8    ,nurse4 ,from  
my soul too1   ,or else beshrew them    
both6   ,and then the gathering up of   
herself with all the majesty of offended
 virtue1 as she pronounces that grand   
,amen6--the effect of which was felt in 
every bosom----these were revelations of
 beauty and feeling which we owed to    
,fanny ,kemble alone4 ,they were points 
which had never before been felt or     
conveyed in the same manner4 ,the       

shrinking up wholly into herself1 and   
the concentrated scorn with which she   
uttered the lines--                     
,go1 counsellor6   ,thou and my bosom   
henceforth shall be twain6  are very    
spiritedly given in the fourteenth      
drawing4  ,from the scene with the      
friar1 in the fourth act1 the action    
selected is where she grasps her poniard
 with the resolution of despair--       
,give me some present counsel2 or1      
behold1   ',twixt my extremes and me    
this bloody knife   ,shall play the     
umpire6   ,one of the most original     
effects of feeling and genius in the    
whole play occurred in the course of    
this scene2 but1 unfortunately1 it was  
not found susceptible of graphic        
delineation4 ,it was the peculiar manner
 with which she uttered the words--     
,are you at leisure1 holy father1 now8  
,or shall ,i come to you at evening     
mass8   ,the question in itself is      
nothing2 but what a volume of misery and
 dread suspense was in that look with   

which she turned from ,paris to the     
friar1 and the tone with which she      
uttered those simple words6 ,this was   
beyond the pencil's art to convey1 and  
could but be felt and remembered4 ,the  
next drawing is therefore from the scene
 in which she drinks the sleeping       
potion4 ,the idea of speaking the first 
part of the soliloquy seated1 and with  
the calmness of one settled and bent up 
to act a dismal scene alone1 until her  
fixed meditation on the fearful issue1  
and the horrible images crowding on her 
mind1 work her up to gradual frenzy1 was
 new1 and originated with ,miss ,kemble4
 ,the attitude expressed in the         
drawing--,o look1 methinks ,i see my    
cousin's ghost1--was always hailed with 
an excess of enthusiasm of which ,i     
thought many parts of her performance   
far more deserving4  ,the eighteenth    
sketch is from the sleeping scene2 and  
the last two drawings are from the tomb 
scene4 ,the merits of this last scene   
were chiefly those of attitude1 look1   

and manner2 and the whole were at once  
so graceful and beautiful1 as well as   
terribly impressive1 that they afforded 
some relief from the horrors of the     
situation1 and the ravings of ,romeo4   
,the alteration of ,shakspeare1 in the  
last act1 is certainly founded on the   
historical tale of the ,giulietta3 but  
though the circumstances are borrowed1  
yet the spirit in which they are related
 by the ancient novelist1 has not been  
taken into consideration by those who   
manufactured this additional scene of   
superfluous horror4#ac ,in ,juliet's    
death1 ,miss ,kemble seized an original 
idea1 and worked it up with the most    
powerful and beautiful effect2 but this 
effect consisted not so much in one     
attitude or look1 as in a progressive   
series of action and expression1 so     
true--so painfully true1 that as one of 
the chief beauties was the rapidity with
 which the whole passed from the        
fascinated yet aching sight--the artist 
has relinquished any attempt to fix it  

on paper4         99       99       99  
99       99  ,fanny ,kemble made her    
first appearance in the character of    
,juliet1 ,october #fth1 #ahbi1 and bid a
 last farewell to her ,london audience  
in ,may1 #ahcb3 during these three years
 she played through a very diversified  
range of parts1 both in tragedy and high
 comedy4#ad ,sustained by her native    
genius and good taste1 and by the kindly
 feeling of her audience1 she could not 
be said to have failed in any1 not even 
in those which her inexperience and     
extreme youth rendered premature1 to say
 the least4 ,she never--except in one or
 two instances#ae--;had a voice in the  
selection of her parts1 which1 ,i think1
 was in some cases exceedingly          
injudicious1 as far as her individual   
powers were concerned4 ,i know that she 
played in several contrary to her own   
opinion1 taste1 and judgment1 and from a
 principle of duty4 ,not duty only1 but 
a feeling of delicacy1 natural to a     
generous mind1 which disdained the      

appearance of presuming on her real     
power1 rendered her docile1 in some     
instances1 to a degree which ,i         
regretted while ,i loved her for it4    
,she had a perception of some of the    
traditional absurdities of dress1 and   
ridiculous technical anomalies of       
theatrical arrangements1 which she had  
not power to alter1 and which ,i have   
seen her endure with wondrous good      
temper4 ,had she remained on the stage1 
her fine taste and original and powerful
 mind would have carried the public with
 her in some things which she           
contemplated3 for instance1 she had an  
idea of restoring ,king ,lear1 as       
originally written by ,shakspeare1 and  
playing the real ,cordelia to her       
father's ,lear4 ,when left to her own   
judgment1 she ever thought more of what 
was worthy and beautiful in itself1 than
 she calculated on the amount of vulgar 
applause it might attract1 or the sums  
it might bring to the treasury4 ,thus1  
for her first benefit she played        

,portia1 a character which no vain1     
self-confident actress would have       
selected for such an occasion1 because1 
as the play is now performed1 the part  
is comparatively short1 is always       
considered of secondary importance1 and 
affords but few effective points3 this  
was represented to her2 but she         
persisted in her choice3 and how she    
played it out of her own heart and soul6
 how she revelled in the poetry of the  
part1 with a conscious sense and        
enjoyment of its beauty1 which was      
communicated to her audience6 ,self1    
after the first tremor1 was forgotten1  
and vanity lost in her glowing          
perception of the charm of the          
character4 ,she lamented over every     
beautiful line and passage which had    
been cut out by profane hands4#af ,to   
those which remained1 the rich and      
mellow tones of her voice gave added    
power1 blending with the music of the   
verse4 ,it was by her own earnest wish  
that she played ,camiola1 in            

,massinger's ,maid of ,honour1 and this 
was certainly one of her most exquisite 
and most finished parts2 but the quiet  
elegance1 the perfect delicacy of the   
delineation were never appreciated4 ,she
 was aware of this3 she said1 ,the first
 rows of the pit1 and the first few     
boxes will understand me2 for the rest  
of that great theatre1 ,i ought to play 
as they paint the scenes--in great      
splashes of black and white4 ,bianca1 in
 ,millman's ,fazio1 was another of her  
finest parts1 and as it contained more  
stage effect1 it told more with the     
public4 ,in this character she certainly
 took even her greatest admirers by     
surprise4 ,the expression of slumbering 
passion1 and its gradual developement1  
were so fervently portrayed1 and yet so 
nicely shaded2 the frenzy of jealousy1  
and the alienation of intellect1 so     
admirably discriminated1 and so         
powerfully given1 that when the first   
emotions had subsided1 not admiration   
only1 but wonder seized upon her        

audience3 nor shall ,i easily forget the
 pale composure with which she bore     
this--one of her most intoxicating      
triumphs4  ,in ,constance1 in ,queen    
,katherine1 in ,lady ,macbeth1 the want 
of amplitude and maturity of person1 of 
physical weight and power1 and a        
deficiency both of experience and       
self-confidence1 were against her2 but  
her conception of character was so true1
 and her personal resemblance to her    
aunt so striking1 in spite of her       
comparatively diminutive features and   
figure1 that one of the best and        
severest of our dramatic critics said1  
it was like looking at ,mrs4 ,siddons   
through the wrong end of an             
opera-glass4#ag ,she had conceived the  
idea of giving quite a new reading1     
which undoubtedly would have been the   
true reading1 of the character of       
,katherine of ,arragon1 and instead of  
playing it with the splendid poetical   
colouring in which ,mrs4 ,siddons had   
arrayed it1 bring it down to the prosaic

 delineation which ,shakspeare really   
gave1 and history and ,holbein have     
transmitted to us2 but the experiment   
was deemed too hazardous2 and it was so4
 ,the public at large would never have  
understood it4 ,the character of the    
queen mother1 in her own tragedy of     
,francis ,i41 was another part of which 
the weight seemed to overwhelm her      
youthful powers1 and after the first few
 nights she ceased to play it4  ,while  
on the ,english stage1 she never became 
so far the finished artist as to be     
independent of her own emotions1 her own
 individual sentiments4 ,it was not only
 necessary that she should understand a 
character1 it was necessary that she    
should feel it4 ,she invariably excelled
 in those characters in which her       
sympathies were awakened4 ,in ,juliet1  
in ,portia1 in ,camiola1 in ,julia1#ah  
7perhaps the most popular of all her    
parts17 and ,i believe ,i may add1 in   
,bianca1 she will not soon or easily be 
surpassed4 ,for the same reason1 if she 

could be said to have failed in any     
part1 it was in that of ,calista1 which 
she abhorred1 and never1 ,i believe1    
could comprehend4 ,isabella#ai was      
another part which ,i think she never   
really felt2 she never could throw her  
powers into it4 ,the bald style and the 
prosaic monotonous misery of the first  
acts1 in which her aunt called forth    
such torrents of tears1 wearied her2    
though the tragic of the situations in  
the last act roused her1 and was given  
most effectively4 ,she had not1 at the  
time she took leave of us1 conquered the
 mechanical part of her profession--the 
last1 but not the least necessary       
department of her art1 which it had     
taken her aunt ,siddons seven years1 and
 ,pasta almost as long1 to achieve2 she 
was too much under the influence of her 
own nerves and moods of feeling2 the    
warm blushes1 the hot tears1 the sob1   
the tremor1 were at times too real4     
,after playing in ,mrs4 ,beverly1       
,bianca1 and ,julia1 the physical       

suffering and excitement were sometimes 
most painful2 and the performance of    
,constance actually deprived her of her 
hearing for several hours1 and rendered 
her own voice inaudible to her2 this1 it
 will be allowed1 was paying somewhat   
dear for her laurels1 even though she   
had valued them more than in truth she  
ever did4  ,fanny ,kemble1 as one of a  
gifted race1 the latest born of all     
,olympus' faded hierarchy1 had really a 
just pride in the professional          
distinction of her family4 ,she was     
proud of being a ,kemble1 and not       
insensible to the idea of treading in   
the steps of her aunt4 ,but she had seen
 the stage desecrated1 and never for a  
moment indulged the thought that she was
 destined to regenerate it4 ,she felt   
truly her own position4 ,her ambition   
was not professional4 ,she had always   
the consciousness of a power--of which  
she has already given evidence--to      
ensure to herself a higher1 a more real 
immortality than that which the stage   

can bestow4 ,she had a very high idea1  
abstractedly1 of the capabilities of her
 art2 but the native elegance of her    
mind1 her poetical temperament1 her     
profound sense of the serious ideal1    
rendered her extremely1 and at times    
painfully sensitive1 to the prosaic     
drawbacks which attended its exercise in
 public1 and her strong understanding   
showed her its possible evils4 ,she     
feared for the effect that incessant    
praise1 incessant excitement1 might at  
length produce on her temper4 ,i am in  
dismay1 said she1 7,i give her own      
words17 when ,i think that all this may 
become necessary to me4 ,could ,i be    
sure of retaining my love for higher and
 better occupations1 and my desire for a
 nobler1 though more distant fame1 ,i   
should not have these apprehensions2 but
 ,i am cut off by constant labour from  
those pursuits which ,i love and honour1
 and neither they1 nor any of our       
capabilities1 can outlive long neglect  
and disuse4 ,thus she felt1 and thus she

 expressed herself at the age of twenty1
 and even while enjoying her success    
with a true girlish buoyancy of spirit1 
the more delightful1 the more           
interesting1 inasmuch as it seemed to   
tremble at itself4 ,i have actually     
heard her reproached for not being      
sufficiently elated and excited by the  
public homage2 but1 the truth is1 she   
was grateful for praise1 rather than    
intoxicated by it--more pleased with her
 success than proud of it4#bj ,i dare   
not1 said she1 feel all ,i could feel3  
,i must watch myself4 ,and by a more    
exact attention to her religious duties1
 and by giving as much time as possible 
to the cultivation of many resources and
 accomplishments1 she endeavoured to    
preserve the command over her own       
faculties1 and the even balance of her  
mind4 ,i am persuaded that this lofty   
tone of feeling1 this mixture of        
self-subjection and self-respect1 gave  
to her general deportment on the stage  
that indescribable charm1 quite apart   

from any grace of person or action1     
which all who have seen her must have   
felt1 and none can have forgotten4  ,and
 now1 what shall ,i say more8 ,if ,i    
dared to violate the sacredness of      
private intercourse1 ,i could indeed say
 much--much more4 ,that she came forward
 and devoted herself for her family in  
times of trial and trouble--that twice  
she saved them from ruin--that she has  
achieved two fortunes1 besides a        
brilliant fame1 and by her talents won  
independence for herself and those she  
loved1--and that she has done all this  
before the age of five-and-twenty1 is   
known to many2 but few are aware how    
much more admirable1 more respectable1  
than any of her mental gifts and her    
well-earned distinction1 were the moral 
strength with which she sustained the   
severest ordeal to which a youthful     
character could be exposed2 the         
simplicity with which she endured--half 
recoiling--the incessant adulation which
 beset her from morn to night2#ba her   

self-command in success2 her gentle     
dignity in reverse2 her straightforward 
integrity1 which knew no turning nor    
shadow of turning2 her noble spirit1    
which disdained all petty rivalry2 her  
earnest sense of religion1 to which     
alone she trusted to keep her right4#bb 
,suddenly she became the idol of the    
public2 suddenly she was transplanted   
into a sphere of society1 where1 as long
 as she could administer excitement to  
fashionable inanity1 she was worshipped4
 ,she carried into those circles all the
 freshness of her vigorous and poetical 
mind--all the unworn feelings of her    
young heart4 ,so much genuine           
simplicity1 such perfect innocence and  
modesty1 allied to such rare powers1 and
 to an habitual familiarity with the    
language of poetry and the delineation  
of passion1 was not there understood1 or
 rather1 was mis-understood--and no     
wonder6 ,to the blase men1 the vapid    
girls1 and artificial women1 who then   
surrounded her1 her generous feelings1  

when the bright soul broke forth on     
every side1 appeared mere acting2 they  
were indeed constrained to believe it   
such2 for if for a moment they had      
deemed it all real1 it must have forced 
on them comparisons by no means         
favourable to themselves4 ,if1 under    
these circumstances1 her quick          
sensibility to pleasurable emotion of   
all kinds1 and her ready sympathy with  
all the external refinement1 splendour1 
and luxury of aristocratic life1        
conspired for a moment to dazzle her    
imagination1 she recovered herself      
immediately1 and from first to last1 her
 warm and strong affections1 the moral  
texture of her character2 the           
refinement1 which was as native to her  
mind1 as fragrance to the rose1 remained
 unimpaired4 ,these--a rich dower--she  
is about to carry into the shades of    
domestic life4 ,another land will be her
 future home4 ,by another name shall    
fame speak of her1 who was endeared to  
us as ,,fanny ,,kemble3 and she1 who    

with no steady hand pens this slight    
tribute to the virtues she loved1 bids  
to that name--farewell6     ,,the       
,,false ,,one4#bc    ,and give you1     
mix'd with western sentimentalism1      
,some samples of the finest orientalism4
                                        
,,lord ,,byron4   ,akbar1 the most      
enlightened and renowned among the      
sovereigns of the ,east1 reigned over   
all those vast territories1 which extend
 from the ,indus to the ,ganges1 and    
from the snowy mountains of the north to
 the kingdoms of ,guzerat and ,candeish 
on the south4 ,after having subdued the 
factious omrahs1 and the hereditary     
enemies of his family1 and made         
tributary to his power most of the      
neighbouring kingdoms1 there occurred a 
short period of profound peace4         
,assisted by able ministers1 ,akbar     
employed this interval in alleviating   
the miseries1 which half a century of   
war and ravage had called down upon this
 beautiful but ever wretched country4   

,commerce was relieved from the heavy   
imposts1 which had hitherto clogged its 
progress2 the revenues of the empire    
were improved and regulated2 by a       
particular decree1 the cultivators of   
the earth were exempted from serving in 
the imperial armies2 and justice was    
every where impartially administered2   
tempered1 however1 with that extreme    
clemency1 which in the early part of his
 reign1 ,akbar carried to an excess     
almost injurious to his interests4      
,india1 so long exposed to the          
desolating inroads of invaders1 and torn
 by internal factions1 began1 at length1
 to wear her plumed and jewelled turban 
with a smile of peace2 and all the      
various nations united under his        
sway--the warlike ,afghans1 the proud   
,moguls1 the gentle-spirited ,hindoos1  
with one voice blessed the wise and     
humane government of the son of ,baber1 
and unanimously bestowed upon him the   
titles of ,,akbar1 or the ,,great1 and  
,,juggut ,,grow1 or ,,guardian of       

,,mankind4  ,meantime the happiness1    
which he had diffused among millions1   
seemed to have fled from the bosom of   
the sovereign4 ,cares far different from
 those of war1 deeper than those of     
love1 7for the love of eastern monarchs 
is seldom shadowed by anxiety17         
possessed his thoughtful soul4 ,he had  
been brought up in the strictest forms  
of the ,mohammedan religion1 and he     
meditated upon the text1 which enjoins  
the extermination of all who rejected   
his prophet1 till his conscience became 
like a troubled lake4 ,he reflected that
 in his vast dominions there were at    
least fifteen different religions1 which
 were subdivided into about three       
hundred and fifty sects3 to extirpate   
thousands and tens of thousands of his  
unoffending subjects1 and pile up       
pyramids of human heads in honour of    
,god and his prophet1 as his            
predecessors had done before him1 was1  
to his mild nature1 not only abhorrent1 
but impossible4 ,yet as his power had   

never met with any obstacle1 which force
 or address had not subdued before him1 
the idea of bringing this vast multitude
 to agree in one system of belief and   
worship appeared to him not utterly     
hopeless4  ,he consulted1 after long    
reflection1 his favourite and secretary1
 ,abul ,fazil1 the celebrated historian1
 of whom it was proverbially said1 that 
the monarchs of the ,east feared more   
the pen of ,abul ,fazil than the sword  
of ,akbar4 ,the acute mind of that great
 man saw instantly the wild             
impracticability of such a scheme2 but  
willing to prove it to his master       
without absolutely contradicting his    
favourite scheme1 he proposed1 as a     
preparatory step1 that the names of the 
various sects of religion known to exist
 in the sultan's dominions should be    
registered1 and the tenets of their     
belief contained in their books of law1 
or promulgated by their priests1 should 
be reviewed and compared2 thence it     
would appear how far it was possible to 

reconcile them one with another4  ,this 
suggestion pleased the great king3 and  
there went forth a decree from the      
imperial throne1 commanding that all the
 religions and sects of religion to be  
found within the boundaries of the      
empire should send deputies1 on a       
certain day1 to the sultan1 to deliver  
up their books of law1 to declare openly
 the doctrines of their faith1 and be   
registered by name in a volume kept for 
this purpose--whether they were         
followers of ,jesus1 of ,moses1 or of   
,mohammed2 whether they worshipped ,god 
in the sun1 in the fire1 in the image1  
or in the stream2 by written law or     
traditional practice3 true believer or  
pagan infidel1 none were excepted4 ,the 
imperial mandate was couched in such    
absolute1 as well as alluring terms1    
that it became as impossible as         
impolitic to evade it2 it was therefore 
the interest of every particular sect1  
to represent in the most favourable     
light the mode of faith professed by    

each4 ,some thought to gain favour by   
the magnificence of their gifts2 others1
 by the splendour of their processions4 
,some rested their hopes on the wisdom  
and venerable appearance of the deputies
 they selected to represent them2 and   
others1 7they were but few17 strong in  
their faith and spiritual pride1 deemed 
all such aids unnecessary1 and trusted  
in the truth of the doctrines they      
professed1 which they only waited an    
opportunity to assert1 secure that they 
needed only to be heard1 to convert all 
who had ears to hear4  ,on the appointed
 day1 an immense multitude had assembled
 from all the quarters of the empire1   
and pressed through the gates and       
streets of ,agra1 then the capital and  
residence of the monarch4 ,the principal
 durbar1 or largest audience-court of   
the palace1 was thrown open on this     
occasion4 ,at the upper end was placed  
the throne of ,akbar4 ,it was a raised  
platform1 from which sprung twelve      
twisted pillars of massy gold1 all      

radiant with innumerable gems1          
supporting the golden canopy1 over which
 waved the white umbrella1 the insignia 
of power2 the cushions upon which the   
emperor reclined1 were of cloth of gold1
 incrusted with rubies and emeralds2 six
 pages1 of exquisite beauty1 bearing    
fans of peacocks' feathers1 were alone  
permitted to approach within the silver 
balustrade1 which surrounded the seat of
 power4 ,on one side stood the vizir    
,chan ,azim1 bold and erect of look1 as 
became a warrior1 and ,abul ,fazil1 with
 his tablets in his hand1 and his eyes  
modestly cast down3 next to him stood   
,dominico ,cuenca1 the ,portuguese      
missionary1 and two friars of his order1
 who had come from ,goa by the express  
command of the sultan2 on the other     
side1 the muftis and doctors of the law4
 ,around were the great omrahs1 the     
generals1 governors1 tributary princes1 
and ambassadors4 ,the ground was spread 
with ,persian carpets of a thousand     
tints1 sprinkled with rose-water1 and   

softer beneath the feet than the velvety
 durva grass2 and clouds of incense1    
ambergris1 and myrrh1 filled the air4   
,the gorgeous trappings of eastern      
splendour1 the waving of standards1 the 
glittering of warlike weapons1 the      
sparkling of jewelled robes1 formed a   
scene1 almost sublime in its prodigal   
and lavish magnificence1 such as only an
 oriental court could show4  ,seven days
 did the royal ,akbar receive and       
entertain the religious deputies3 every 
day a hundred thousand strangers feasted
 at his expense2 and every night the    
gifts he had received during the day1 or
 the value of them1 were distributed in 
alms to the vast multitude1 without any 
regard to difference of belief4 ,seven  
days did the royal ,akbar sit on his    
musnud1 and listen graciously to all who
 appeared before him4 ,many were the    
words spoken1 and marvellous was the    
wisdom uttered2 sublime were the        
doctrines professed1 and pure the       
morality they enjoined3 but the more the

 royal ,akbar heard1 the more was his   
great mind perplexed2 the last who spoke
 seemed ever in the right1 till the next
 who appeared turned all to doubt again4
 ,he was amazed1 and said within        
himself1 like the judge of old1 ,what is
 truth8  ,it was observed1 that the many
 dissenting or heterodox sects of the   
,mohammedan religion excited infinitely 
more indignation among the orthodox     
muftis1 than the worst among the pagan  
idolaters4 ,their hearts burned within  
them through impatience and wrath1 and  
they would almost have died on the spot 
for the privilege of confuting those    
blasphemers1 who rejected ,abu ,becker2 
who maintained1 with ,abu ,zail1 that   
blue was holier than green2 or with     
,mozar1 that a sinner was worse than an 
infidel2 or believed with the ,morgians1
 that in paradise ,god is beheld only   
with the eyes of our understanding2 or  
with the ,kharejites1 that a prince who 
abuses his power may be deposed without 
sin4 ,but the sultan had forbidden all  

argument in his presence1 and they were 
constrained to keep silence1 though it  
was pain and grief to them4  ,the ,seiks
 from ,lahore1 then a new sect1 and     
since a powerful nation1 with their     
light olive complexions1 their rich     
robes and turbans all of blue1 their    
noble features and free undaunted       
deportment1 struck the whole assembly   
with respect1 and were received with    
peculiar favour by the sultan4 ,so also 
were the ,ala-ilahiyahs1 whose doctrines
 are a strange compound of the          
,christian1 the ,mohammedan1 and the    
,pagan creeds2 but the ,sactas1 or      
,epicureans of ,india1 met with a far   
different reception4 ,this sect1 which  
in secret professed the most profane and
 detestable opinions1 endeavoured to    
obtain favour by the splendid offerings 
they laid at the foot of the throne1 and
 the graceful and seducing eloquence of 
their principal speaker4 ,it was1       
however1 in vain1 that he threw over the
 tenets of his religion1 as publicly    

acknowledged1 the flimsy disguise of    
rhetoric and poetry2 that he endeavoured
 to prove1 that all happiness consisted 
in enjoying the world's goods1 and all  
virtue in mere abstaining from evil2    
that death is an eternal sleep2 and     
therefore to reject the pleasures of    
this life1 in any shape1 the extreme of 
folly2 while at every pause of his      
oration1 voices of the sweetest melody  
chorussed the famous burden3    ,may the
 hand never shake which gather'd the    
grapes6   ,may the foot never slip which
 press'd them6   ,akbar commanded the   
,sactas from his presence1 amid the     
murmurs and execrations of all parties3 
and though they were protected for the  
present by the royal passport1 they were
 subsequently banished beyond the       
frontiers of ,cashmere4  ,the           
fire-worshippers1 from ,guzerat1        
presented the books of their famous     
teacher1 ,zoroaster2 to them succeeded  
the ,jainas1 the ,buddhists1 and many   
more1 innumerable as the leaves upon the

 banyan tree--countless as the stars at 
midnight4  ,last of all came the        
deputies of the ,brahmans4 ,on their    
approach there was a hushed silence1 and
 then arose a suppressed murmur of      
amazement1 curiosity1 and admiration4   
,it is well known with what impenetrable
 secrecy the ,brahmans guard the        
peculiar mysteries of their religion4   
,in the reigns of ,akbar's predecessors1
 and during the first invasions of the  
,moguls1 many had suffered martyrdom in 
the most horrid forms1 rather than      
suffer their sanctuaries to be violated1
 or disclose the contents of their      
,vedas or sacred books4 ,loss of caste1 
excommunication in this world1 and      
eternal perdition in the next1 were the 
punishments awarded to those1 who should
 break this fundamental law of the      
,brahminical faith4 ,the mystery was at 
length to be unveiled2 the doubts and   
conjectures1 to which this pertinacious 
concealment gave rise1 were now to be   
ended for ever4 ,the learned doctors and

 muftis bent forward with an attentive  
and eager look--,abul ,fazil raised his 
small1 bright1 piercing eyes1 while a   
smile of dubious import passed over his 
countenance--the ,portuguese monk threw 
back his cowl1 and the calm and scornful
 expression of his fine features changed
 to one of awakened curiosity and       
interest3 even ,akbar raised himself    
from his jewelled couch as the deputies 
of the ,brahmans approached4 ,a single  
delegate had been chosen from the twelve
 principal temples and seats of         
learning1 and they were attended by     
forty aged men1 selected from the three 
inferior castes1 to represent the mass  
of the ,indian population--warriors1    
merchants1 and husbandmen4 ,at the head 
of this majestic procession was the     
,brahman ,sarma1 the high priest1 and   
principal ,gooroo or teacher of theology
 at ,benares4 ,this singular and        
venerable man had passed several years  
of his life in the court of the sultan  
,baber2 and the dignity and austerity1  

that became his age and high functions1 
were blended with a certain grace and   
ease in his deportment1 which           
distinguished him above the rest4  ,when
 the sage ,sarma had pronounced the     
usual benediction1 ,may the king be     
victorious6 ,akbar inclined his head    
with reverence4 ,wise and virtuous      
,brahmans6 he said1 our court derives   
honour from your illustrious presence4  
,next to the true faith taught by our   
holy ,prophet1 the doctrines of ,brahma 
must exceed all others in wisdom and    
purity1 even as the priests of ,brahma  
excel in virtue and knowledge the wisest
 of the earth3 disclose1 therefore1 your
 sacred ,sastras1 that we may inhale    
from them1 as from the roses of         
paradise1 the precious fragrance of     
truth and of knowledge6  ,the ,brahman  
replied1 in the soft and musical tones  
of his people1 ,o king of the world6 we 
are not come before the throne of power 
to betray the faith of our fathers1 but 
to die for it1 if such be the will of   

the sultan6 ,saying these words1 he and 
his companions prostrated themselves    
upon the earth1 and1 taking off their   
turbans1 flung them down before them3   
then1 while the rest continued with     
their foreheads bowed to the ground1    
,sarma arose1 and stood upright before  
the throne4 ,no words can describe the  
amazement of ,akbar4 ,he shrunk back and
 struck his hands together2 then he     
frowned1 and twisted his small and      
beautifully curled  mustachios3--,the   
sons of ,brahma mock us6 said he at     
length2 is it thus our imperial decrees 
are obeyed8  ,the laws of our faith are 
immutable1 replied the old man1 calmly1 
and the contents of the ,vedas were     
pre-ordained from the beginning of time 
to be revealed to the ,,twice-,,born    
alone4 ,it is sufficient1 that therein  
are to be found the essence of all      
wisdom1 the principles of all virtue1   
and the means of acquiring immortality4 
,doubtless1 the sons of ,brahma are     
pre-eminently wise1 said ,akbar1        

sarcastically2 but are the followers of 
the ,prophet accounted as fools in their
 eyes8 ,the sons of ,brahma are         
excellently virtuous1 but are all the   
rest of mankind vicious8 ,has the most  
high ,god confined the knowledge of his 
attributes to the ,brahmans alone1 and  
hidden his face from the rest of his    
creatures8 ,where1 then1 is his justice8
 where his all-embracing mercy8  ,the   
,brahman1 folding his arms1 replied3 ,it
 is written1 ,heaven is a palace with   
many doors1 and every man shall enter by
 his own way4 ,it is not given to       
mortals to examine or arraign the       
decrees of the ,deity1 but to hear and  
to obey4 ,let the will of the sultan be 
accomplished in all things else4 ,in    
this let the ,god of all the earth judge
 between the king and his servants4     
,now1 by the head of our ,prophet6 shall
 we be braved on our throne by these    
insolent and contumacious priests8      
,tortures shall force the seal from     
those lips6  ,not so6 said the old      

,brahman1 drawing himself up with a look
 of inexpressible dignity4 ,it is in the
 power of the ,great ,king to deal with 
his slaves as seemeth good to him2 but  
fortitude is the courage of the weak2   
and the twice-born sons of ,brahma can  
suffer more in the cause of truth1 than 
even the wrath of ,akbar can inflict4   
,at these words1 which expressed at once
 submission and defiance1 a general     
murmur arose in the assembly4 ,the dense
 crowd became agitated as the waves of  
the ,ganges just before the rising of   
the hurricane4 ,some opened their eyes  
wide with amazement at such audacity1   
some frowned with indignation1 some     
looked on with contempt1 others with    
pity4 ,all awaited in fearful           
expectation1 till the fury of the sultan
 should burst forth and consume these   
presumptuous offenders4 ,but ,akbar     
remained silent1 and for some time      
played with the hilt of his poniard1    
half unsheathing it1 and then forcing it
 back with an angry gesture4 ,at length 

he motioned to his secretary to         
approach2 and ,abul ,fazil1 kneeling    
upon the silver steps of the throne1    
received the sultan's commands4 ,after a
 conference of some length1 inaudible to
 the attendants around1 ,abul ,fazil    
came forward1 and announced the will of 
the sultan1 that the durbar should be   
presently broken up4 ,the deputies were 
severally dismissed with rich presents2 
all1 except the ,brahmans1 who were     
commanded to remain in the quarter      
assigned to them during the royal       
pleasure2 and a strong guard was placed 
over them4  ,meantime ,akbar withdrew to
 the private apartments of his palace1  
where he remained for three days        
inaccessible to all1 except his         
secretary ,abul ,fazil1 and the         
,christian monk4 ,on the fourth day he  
sent for the high priest of ,benares1   
and successively for the rest of the    
,brahmans1 his companions2 but it was in
 vain he tried threats and temptations1 
and all his arts of argument and        

persuasion4 ,they remained calmly and   
passively immoveable4 ,the sultan at    
length pardoned and dismissed them with 
many expressions of courtesy and        
admiration4 ,the ,brahman ,sarma was    
distinguished among the rest by gifts of
 peculiar value and magnificence1 and to
 him ,akbar made a voluntary promise1   
that1 during his reign1 the cruel tax1  
called the ,kerea1 which had hitherto   
been levied upon the poor ,indians      
whenever they met to celebrate any of   
their religious festivals1 should be    
abolished4  ,but all these professions  
were hollow and insidious4 ,akbar was   
not a character to be thus baffled2 and 
assisted by the wily wit of ,abul       
,fazil1 and the bold intriguing monk1 he
 had devised a secret and subtle        
expedient1 which should at once gratify 
his curiosity1 and avenge his insulted  
power4  ,abul ,fazil had an only        
brother1 many years younger than        
himself1 whom he had adopted as his son1
 and loved with extreme tenderness4 ,he 

had intended him to tread1 like himself1
 the intricate path of state policy2 and
 with this view he had been carefully   
educated in all the learning of the     
,east1 and had made the most astonishing
 progress in every branch of science4   
,though scarcely past his boyhood1 he   
had already been initiated into the     
intrigues of the court2 above all1 he   
had been brought up in sentiments of the
 most profound veneration and submission
 for the monarch he was destined to     
serve4 ,in some respects ,faizi         
resembled his brother3 he possessed the 
same versatility of talents1 the same   
acuteness of mind1 the same predilection
 for literary and sedentary pursuits1   
the same insinuating melody of voice and
 fluent grace of speech2 but his        
ambition was of a nobler cast1 and      
though his moral perceptions had been   
somewhat blunted by a too early         
acquaintance with court diplomacy1 and  
an effeminate1 though learned education1
 his mind and talents were decidedly of 

a higher order4 ,he also excelled ,abul 
,fazil in the graces of his person1     
having inherited from his mother 7a     
,hindoo slave of surpassing loveliness7 
a figure of exquisite grace and         
symmetry1 and features of most faultless
 and noble beauty4  ,thus fitted by     
nature and prepared by art for the part 
he was to perform1 this youth was       
secretly sent to ,allahabad1 where the  
deputies of the ,brahmans rested for    
some days on their return to the ,sacred
 ,city4 ,here ,abul ,fazil1 with great  
appearance of mystery and               
circumspection1 introduced himself to   
the chief priest1 ,sarma1 and presented 
to him his youthful brother as the      
orphan son of the ,brahman ,mitra1 a    
celebrated teacher of astronomy in the  
court of the late sultan4 ,abul ,fazil  
had artfully prepared such documents1 as
 left no doubt of the truth of his      
story4 ,his pupil in treachery played   
his part to admiration1 and the         
deception was complete and successful4  

,it was the will of the ,great ,king1   
said the wily ,abul ,fazil1 that this   
fair youth should be brought up in his  
palace1 and converted to the ,moslem    
faith2 but1 bound by my vows to a dying 
friend1 ,i have for fourteen years      
eluded the command of the sultan1 and in
 placing him under thy protection1 ,o   
most venerable ,sarma6 ,i have at length
 discharged my conscience1 and fulfilled
 the last wishes of the ,brahman ,mitra4
 ,peace be with him6 ,if it seem good in
 thy sight1 let this remain for ever a  
secret between me and thee4 ,i have     
successfully thrown dust in the eyes of 
the sultan1 and caused it to be         
reported1 that the youth is dead of a   
sudden and grievous disease4 ,should he 
discover1 that he has been deceived by  
his slave2 should the truth reach his   
mighty ears1 the head of ,abul ,fazil   
would assuredly pay the forfeit of his  
disobedience4  ,the old ,brahman replied
 with many expressions of gratitude and 
inviolable discretion2 and1 wholly      

unsuspicious of the cruel artifice1     
received the youth with joy4 ,he carried
 him to ,benares1 where some months     
afterwards he publicly adopted him as   
his son1 and gave him the name of       
,govinda1 the ,beloved1 one of the      
titles under which the ,indian women    
adore their beautiful and favourite     
idol1 the god ,crishna4  ,govinda1 so we
 must now call him1 was set to study the
 sacred language1 and the theology of   
the ,brahmans as it is revealed in their
 ,vedas and ,sastras4 ,in both he made  
quick and extraordinary progress2 and   
his singular talents did not more endear
 him to his preceptor1 than his         
docility1 and the pensive1 and even     
melancholy sweetness of his temper and  
manner4 ,his new duties were not        
unpleasing or unsuited to one of his    
indolent and contemplative temper4 ,he  
possibly felt1 at first1 a holy horror  
at the pagan sacrifices1 in which he was
 obliged to assist1 and some reluctance 
to feeding consecrated cows1 gathering  

flowers1 cooking rice1 and drawing water
 for offerings and libations3 but by    
degrees he reconciled his conscience to 
these occupations1 and became attached  
to his ,gooroo1 and interested in his   
philosophical studies4 ,he would have   
been happy1 in short1 but for certain   
uneasy sensations of fear and           
self-reproach1 which he vainly          
endeavoured to forget or to reason down4
  ,abul ,fazil1 who dreaded not his     
indiscretion or his treachery1 but his  
natural sense of rectitude1 which had   
yielded reluctantly1 even to the command
 of ,akbar1 maintained a constant       
intercourse with him by means of an     
intelligent mute1 who1 hovering in the  
vicinity of ,benares1 sometimes in the  
disguise of a fisherman1 sometimes as a 
coolie1 was a continual spy upon all his
 movements2 and once in every month1    
when the moon was in her dark quarter1  
,govinda met him secretly1 and exchanged
 communications with his brother4  ,the 
,brahman ,sarma was rich2 he was proud  

of his high caste1 his spiritual office1
 and his learning2 he was of the tribe  
of ,narayna1 which for a thousand years 
had filled the offices of priesthood1   
without descending to any meaner        
occupation1 or mingling blood with any  
inferior caste4 ,he maintained          
habitually a cold1 austere1 and         
dignified calmness of demeanour2 and    
flattered himself1 that he had attained 
that state of perfect indifference to   
all worldly things1 which1 according to 
the ,brahminical philosophy1 is the     
highest point of human virtue2 but1     
though simple1 grave1 and austere in his
 personal habits1 he lived with a       
splendour becoming his reputation1 his  
high rank1 and vast possessions4 ,he    
exercised an almost princely            
hospitality2 a hundred mendicants were  
fed morning and evening at his gates4   
,he founded and supported colleges of   
learning for the poorer ,brahmans1 and  
had numerous pupils1 who had come from  
all parts of ,india to study under his  

direction4 ,these were lodged in        
separate buildings4 ,only ,govinda1 as  
the adopted son of ,sarma1 dwelt under  
the same roof with his ,gooroo1 a       
privilege which had unconsciously become
 most precious to his heart3 it removed 
him from the constrained companionship  
of those he secretly despised1 and it   
placed him in delicious and familiar    
intercourse with one1 who had become too
 dearly and fatally beloved4  ,the      
,brahman had an only child1 the daughter
 of his old age4 ,she had been named1 at
 her birth1 ,priyamvada2 7or softly     
speaking27 but her companions called her
 ,amra1 the name of a graceful tree     
bearing blossoms of peculiar beauty and 
fragrance1 with which the ,camdeo       
7,indian ,cupid7 is said to tip his     
arrows4 ,amra was but a child when      
,govinda first entered the dwelling of  
his preceptor2 but as time passed on1   
she expanded beneath his eye into beauty
 and maturity1 like the lovely and      
odoriferous flower1 the name of which   

she bore4  ,the ,hindoo women of        
superior rank and unmixed caste are in  
general of diminutive size2 and         
accordingly the lovely and high-born    
,amra was formed upon the least possible
 scale of female beauty3 but her figure1
 though so exquisitely delicate1 had all
 the flowing outline and rounded        
proportions of complete womanhood4 ,her 
features were perfectly regular1 and of 
almost infantine minuteness1 except her 
eyes3 those soft oriental eyes1 not     
sparkling1 or often animated1 but large1
 dark1 and lustrous2 as if in their calm
 depth of expression slept unawakened   
passions1 like the bright deity ,heri   
reposing upon the coiled serpent4 ,her  
eyebrows were finely arched1 and most   
delicately pencilled2 her complexion1 of
 a pale and transparent olive1 was on   
the slightest emotion suffused with a   
tint1 which resembled that of the       
crimson water-lily as seen through the  
tremulous wave2 her lips were like the  
buds of the ,camalata1 and unclosed to  

display a row of teeth like seed-pearl  
of ,manar4 ,but one of her principal    
charms1 because peculiar and unequalled1
 was the beauty and redundance of her   
hair1 which in colour and texture       
resembled black floss silk1 and1 when   
released from confinement1 flowed       
downwards over her whole person like a  
veil1 and swept the ground4  ,such was  
,amra3 nor let it be supposed1 that so  
perfect a form was allied to a merely   
passive and childish mind4 ,it is on    
record1 that1 until the invasion of     
,hindostan by the barbarous ,moguls1 the
 ,indian women enjoyed comparative      
freedom3 it is only since the occupation
 of the country by the ,europeans1 that 
they have been kept in entire seclusion4
 ,a plurality of wives was discouraged  
by their laws2 and1 among some of the   
tribes of ,brahmans1 it was even        
forbidden4 ,at the period of our story1 
that is1 in the reign of ,akbar1 the    
,indian women1 and more particularly the
 ,brahminees1 enjoyed much liberty4     

,they were well educated1 and some of   
them1 extraordinary as it may seem1     
distinguished themselves in war and     
government4 ,the ,indian queen          
,durgetti1 whose history forms a        
conspicuous and interesting episode in  
the life of ,akbar1 defended her kingdom
 for ten years against one of his most  
valiant generals4 ,mounted upon an      
elephant of war1 she led her armies in  
person2 fought several pitched battles2 
and being at length defeated in a       
decisive engagement1 she stabbed herself
 on the field1 rather than submit to her
 barbarous conqueror4 ,nor was this a   
solitary instance of female heroism and 
mental energy3 and the effect of this   
freedom1 and the respect with which they
 were treated1 appeared in the morals   
and manners of the women4  ,the gentle  
daughter of ,sarma was not indeed fitted
 by nature either to lead or to govern1 
and certainly had never dreamed of doing
 either4 ,her figure1 gestures1 and     
movements1 had that softness at once    

alluring and retiring1 that indolent    
grace1 that languid repose1 common to   
the women of tropical regions4    ,all  
her affections like the dews on roses1  
,fair as the flowers themselves2 as     
soft1 as gentle4   ,her spirit1 in its  
mildness1 sweetness1 blessedness1 seemed
 as flexible and unresisting as the     
tender ,vasanta creeper4 ,she had indeed
 been educated in all the exclusive     
pride of her caste1 and taught to regard
 all who were not of the privileged race
 of ,brahma as frangi 7or impure27 but  
this principle1 though so early         
instilled into her mind as to have      
become a part of her nature1 was rather 
passive than active2 it had never been  
called forth4 ,she had never been       
brought into contact with those1 whose  
very look she would have considered as  
pollution2 for she had no intercourse   
but with those of her own nation1 and   
watchful and sustaining love were all   
around her4 ,her learned accomplishments
 extended no farther than to read and   

write the ,hindostanee tongue4 ,to tend 
and water her flowers1 to feed her      
birds1 which inhabited a gaily gilded   
aviary in her garden1 to string pearls1 
to embroider muslin1 were her           
employments2 to pay visits and receive  
them1 to lie upon cushions1 and be      
fanned asleep by her maids1 or listen to
 the endless tales of her old nurse1    
,gautami1 whose memory was a vast       
treasure of traditional wonders--these  
were her amusements4 ,that there were   
graver occupations1 and dearer          
pleasures1 proper to her sex1 she knew2 
but thought not of them1 till the young 
,govinda came to disturb the peace of   
her innocent bosom4 ,she had been told  
to regard him as a brother2 and1 as she 
had never known a brother1 she believed1
 that1 in lavishing upon him all the    
glowing tenderness of her young heart1  
she was but obeying her father's        
commands4 ,if her bosom fluttered when  
she heard his footsteps2 if she trembled
 upon the tones of his voice2 if1 while 

he was occupied in the services of the  
temple1 she sat in her veranda awaiting 
his return1 and1 the moment he appeared 
through the embowering acacias1 a secret
 and unaccountable feeling made her     
breathe quick1 and rise in haste and    
retire to her inner apartments1 till he 
approached to pay the salutations due to
 the daughter of his preceptor2 what was
 it1 what could it be1 but the tender   
solicitude of a sister for a new-found  
brother8 ,but ,govinda himself was not  
so entirely deceived4 ,his boyhood had  
been passed in a luxurious court1 and   
among the women and slaves of his       
brother's harem2 and though so young1 he
 was not wholly inexperienced in a      
passion1 which is the too early growth  
of an eastern heart4 ,he knew why he    
languished in the presence of his       
beautiful sister2 he could tell why the 
dark splendour of ,amra's eyes pierced  
his soul like the winged flames shot    
into a besieged city4 ,he could guess1  
too1 why those eyes kindled with a      

softer fire beneath his glance3 but the 
love he felt was so chastened by the awe
 which her serene purity1 and the       
dignity of her sweet and feminine       
bearing shed around her2 so hallowed by 
the nominal relationship in which they  
stood2 so different1 in short1 from any 
thing he had ever felt1 or seen1 or     
heard of1 that1 abandoned to all the    
sweet and dream-like enchantment of a   
boyish passion1 ,govinda was scarcely   
conscious of the wishes of his own      
heart1 until accident in the same moment
 disclosed his secret aspirations to    
himself1 and bade him for ever despair  
of their accomplishment4  ,on the last  
day of the dark half of the moon1 it was
 the custom of the wise and venerable   
,sarma to bathe at sunset in the        
,ganges1 and afterwards retire to       
private meditation upon the thousand    
names of ,god1 by the repetition of     
which1 as it is written1 a man insures  
to himself everlasting felicity4 ,but   
while ,sarma was thus absorbed in holy  

abstraction1 where were ,govinda and    
,amra8  ,in a spot fairer than the      
poet's creative pencil ever wrought into
 a picture for fancy to dwell on--where1
 at the extremity of the ,brahman's     
garden1 the broad and beautiful stream  
that bounded it ran swiftly to mingle   
its waves with those of the thrice-holy 
,ganges2 where mangoes raised their huge
 twisted roots in a thousand fantastic  
forms1 while from their boughs hung     
suspended the nests of the little ,baya 
birds1 which waved to and fro in the    
evening breeze--there had ,amra and     
,govinda met together1 it might be1     
without design4 ,the sun had set1 the   
,cistus flowers began to fall1 and the  
rich blossoms of the night-loving       
,nilica diffused their rich odour4 ,the 
,peyoo awoke to warble forth his song1  
and the fire-flies were just visible1 as
 they flitted under the shade of the    
,champac trees4 ,upon a bank1 covered   
with that soft and beautiful grass1     
which1 whenever it is pressed or trodden

 on1 yields a delicious perfume1 were   
,amra and ,govinda seated side by side4 
,two of her attendants1 at some little  
distance1 were occupied in twining      
wreaths of flowers4 ,amra had a basket  
at her feet1 in which were two small    
vessels of porcelain4 ,one contained    
cakes of rice1 honey1 and clarified     
butter1 kneaded by her own hand2 in the 
other were mangoes1 rose-apples1 and    
musk-melons2 and garlands of the holy   
palasa blossoms1 sacred to the dead1    
were flung around the whole4 ,this was  
the votive offering1 which ,amra had    
prepared for the tomb of her mother1 who
 was buried in the garden4 ,and now1    
with her elbow resting on her knee1 and 
her soft cheek leaning on her hand1 she 
sat gazing up at the sky1 where the     
stars came flashing forth one by one2   
and she watched the auspicious moment   
for offering her pious oblation4 ,but   
,govinda looked neither on the earth1   
nor on the sky4 ,what to him were the   
stars1 or the flowers1 or the moon      

rising in dewy splendour8 ,his eyes were
 fixed upon one1 who was brighter to him
 than the stars1 lovelier than the moon 
when she drives her antelopes through   
the heavens1 sweeter than the           
night-flower which opens in her beam4   
,o ,amra6 he said1 at length1 and while 
he spoke his voice trembled even at its 
own tenderness1 ,amra6 beautiful and    
beloved sister6 thine eyes are filled   
with the glory of that sparkling        
firmament6 the breath of the evening1   
which agitates the silky filaments of   
the ,seris1 is as pleasant to thee as to
 me3 but the beauty1 which ,i see1 thou 
canst not see2 the power of deep joy1   
which thrills over my heart like the    
breeze over those floating lotuses--oh6 
this thou canst not feel6--,let me take 
away those pearls and gems scattered    
among thy radiant tresses1 and replace  
them with these fragrant and golden     
clusters of ,champac flowers6 ,if ever  
there were beauty1 which could disdain  
the aid of ornament1 is it not that of  

,amra8 ,if ever there were purity1      
truth1 and goodness1 which could defy   
the powers of evil1 are they not thine8 
,o1 then1 let others braid their hair   
with pearls1 and bind round their arms  
the demon-scaring amulet1 my sister     
needs no spells to guard her innocence1 
and cannot wear a gem that does not hide
 a charm6  ,the blush1 which the        
beginning of this passionate speech had 
called up to her cheek1 was changed to a
 smile1 as she looked down upon the     
mystic circle of gold1 which bound her  
arm4  ,it is not a talisman1 said she1  
softly2 it is the ,tali1 the nuptial    
bracelet1 which was bound upon my arm   
when ,i was married4  ,married6 the word
 rent away from the heart of ,govinda   
that veil1 with which he had hitherto   
shrouded his secret hopes1 fears1       
wishes1 and affections4 ,his mute       
agitation sent a trouble into her heart1
 she knew not why4 ,she blushed         
quick-kindling blushes1 and drooped her 
head4  ,married6 he said1 after a       

breathless pause2 when8 to whom8 who is 
the possessor of a gem of such exceeding
 price1 and yet forbears to claim it8   
,she replied1 ,to ,adhar1 priest of     
,indore1 and the friend of ,sarma4 ,i   
was married to him while yet an infant1 
after the manner of our tribe4 ,then    
perceiving his increasing disturbance1  
she continued1 hurriedly1 and with      
downcast eyes3--,i have never seen him2 
he has long dwelt in the countries of   
the south1 whither he was called on an  
important mission2 but he will soon     
return to reside here in the sacred city
 of his fathers1 and will leave it no   
more4 ,why then should ,govinda be sad8 
,she laid her hand timidly upon his arm1
 and looked up in his face4  ,govinda   
would fain have taken that beautiful    
little hand1 and covered it with kisses 
and with tears2 but he was restrained by
 a feeling of respect1 which he could   
not himself comprehend4 ,he feared to   
alarm her2 he contented himself with    
fixing his eyes on the hand which rested

 on his arm2 and he said1 in a soft     
melancholy voice1 ,when ,adhar returns1 
,govinda will be forgotten4  ,o never6  
never6 she exclaimed with sudden        
emotion1 and lifting towards him eyes1  
that floated in tears4 ,govinda bent    
down his head1 and pressed his lips upon
 her hand4 ,she withdrew it hastily1 and
 rose from the ground4  ,at that moment 
her nurse1 ,gautami1 approached them4   
,my child1 said she1 in a tone of       
reproof1 dost thou yet linger here1 and 
the auspicious moment almost past8 ,if  
thou delayest longer1 evil demons will  
disturb and consume the pious oblation1 
and the dead will frown upon the        
abandoned altar4 ,hasten1 my daughter2  
take up the basket of offerings1 and    
walk before us4  ,amra1 trembling1      
leaned upon her maids1 and prepared to  
obey2 but when she had made a few steps1
 she turned back1 as if to salute her   
brother1 and repeated in a low emphatic 
tone the word ,never6--then turned away4
 ,govinda stood looking after the group1

 till the last wave of their white veils
 disappeared2 and listened till the     
tinkling of their silver anklets could  
no longer be distinguished4 ,then he    
started as from a dream3 he tossed his  
arms above his head2 he flung himself   
upon the earth in an agony of jealous   
fury2 he gave way to all the pent-up    
passions1 which had been for years      
accumulating in his heart4 ,all at once 
he rose3 he walked to and fro2 he       
stopped4 ,a hope had darted into his    
mind1 even through the gloom of despair4
 ,for what1 thought he1 have ,i sold    
myself8 ,for riches6 for honour6 for    
power6 ,ah6 what are they in such a     
moment8 ,dust of the earth1 toys1 empty 
breath6 ,for what is the word of the    
,great ,king pledged to me8 ,has he not 
sworn to refuse me nothing8 ,all that is
 most precious between earth and heaven1
 from the mountain to the sea1 lies at  
my choice6 ,one word1 and she is mine6  
and ,i hesitate8 ,fool6 she shall be    
mine6  ,he looked up towards heaven1 and

 marked the places of the stars4 ,it is 
the appointed hour1 he muttered1 and    
cautiously his eye glanced around1 and  
he listened2 but all was solitary and   
silent4 ,he then stole along the path1  
which led through a thick grove of      
,cadam trees1 intermingled with the tall
 points of the ,cusa grass1 that        
shielded him from all observation4 ,he  
came at last to a little promontory1    
where the river we have mentioned threw 
itself into the ,ganges4 ,he had not    
been there above a minute1 when a low   
whistle1 like the note of the ,chacora1 
was heard4 ,a small boat rowed to the   
shore1 and ,sahib stood before him4     
,quick of eye and apprehension1 the mute
 perceived instantly that something     
unusual had occurred4 ,he pointed to the
 skiff2 but ,govinda shook his head1 and
 made signs for a light and the writing 
implements4 ,they were quickly brought2 
and while ,sahib held the lamp1 so that 
its light was invisible to the opposite 
shore1 ,govinda wrote1 in the peculiar  

cipher they had framed for that purpose1
 a few words to his brother1            
sufficiently intelligible in their      
import1 though dictated by the          
impassioned and tumultuous feelings of  
the moment4 ,when he had finished1 he   
gave the letter to ,sahib1 who concealed
 it carefully in the folds of his       
turban1 and then1 holding up the fingers
 of both hands thrice over1 to intimate1
 that in thirty days he would bring the 
answer1 he sprung into the boat1 and was
 soon lost under the mighty shadow of   
the trees1 which stretched their huge   
boughs over the stream4  ,govinda slowly
 returned2 but he saw ,amra no more that
 night4 ,they met the next day1 and the 
next2 but ,amra was no longer the same3 
she was silent1 pensive2 and when       
pressed or rebuked1 she became tearful  
and even sullen4 ,she was always seen   
with her faithful ,gautami1 upon whose  
arm she leaned droopingly1 and hung her 
head like her own neglected flowers4    
,govinda was almost distracted3 in vain 

he watched for a moment to speak to     
,amra alone2 the vigilant ,gautami      
seemed resolved1 that they should never 
meet out of her sight4 ,sometimes he    
would raise his eyes to her as she      
passed1 with such a look of tender and  
sorrowful reproach1 that ,amra would    
turn away her face and weep3 but still  
she spoke not3 and never returned his   
respectful salutation farther than by   
inclining her head4  ,the old ,brahman  
perceived this change in his beloved    
daughter2 but not for some time3 and it 
is probable1 that1 being absorbed in his
 spiritual office and sublime           
speculations1 he would have had neither 
leisure nor penetration to discover the 
cause1 if the suspicions of the careful 
,gautami had not awakened his attention4
 ,she ventured to suggest the propriety 
of hastening the return of his          
daughter's betrothed husband2 and the   
,brahman1 having taken her advice in    
this particular1 rested satisfied2      
persuading himself1 that the arrival of 

,adhar would be a certain and           
all-sufficient remedy for the dreaded   
evil1 which in his simplicity he had    
never contemplated1 and could scarcely  
be made to comprehend4  ,a month had    
thus passed away1 and again that        
appointed day came round1 on which      
,govinda was wont to meet his brother's 
emissary3 even on ordinary occasions he 
could never anticipate it without a     
thrill of anxiety1--now every feeling   
was wrought up to agony2 yet it was     
necessary to control the slightest sign 
of impatience1 and wear the same        
external guise of calm1 subdued         
self-possession1 though every vein was  
burning with the fever of suspense4  ,it
 was the hour when ,sarma1 having risen 
from his mid-day sleep1 was accustomed  
to listen to ,govinda while he read some
 appointed text4 ,accordingly ,govinda  
opened his book1 and standing before his
 preceptor in an attitude of profound   
humility1 he read thus3  ,garuna asked  
of the ,crow ,bushanda1 ',what is the   

most excellent of natural forms8 the    
highest good8 the chief pain8 the       
dearest pleasure8 the greatest          
wickedness8 the severest punishment8    
,and the ,crow ,bushanda answered him3  
',in the three worlds1 empyreal1        
terrestrial1 and infernal1 no form      
excels the human form4  ',supreme       
felicity1 on earth1 is found in the     
conversation of a virtuous friend4      
',the keenest pain is inflicted by      
extreme poverty4  ',the worst of sins is
 uncharitableness2 and to the           
uncharitable is awarded the severest    
punishment3 for while the despisers of  
their spiritual guides shall live for a 
thousand centuries as frogs1 and those  
who contemn the ,brahmans as ravens1 and
 those who scorn other men as blinking  
bats1 the uncharitable alone shall be   
condemned to the profoundest hell1 and  
their punishment shall last for         
ever4'#bd  ,govinda closed his book2 and
 the old ,brahman was proceeding to make
 an elaborate comment on this venerable 

text1 when1 looking up in the face of   
his pupil1 he perceived that he was     
pale1 abstracted1 and apparently        
unconscious that he was speaking4 ,he   
stopped3 he was about to rebuke him1 but
 he restrained himself2 and after       
reflecting for a few moments1 he        
commanded the youth to prepare for the  
evening sacrifice3 but first he desired 
him to summon ,amra to her father's     
presence4  ,at this unusual command     
,govinda almost started4 ,he deposited  
the sacred leaves in his bosom1 and1    
with a beating heart and trembling      
steps1 prepared to obey4 ,when he       
reached the door of the zenana1 he      
gently lifted the silken curtain which  
divided the apartments1 and stood for a 
few moments contemplating1 with silent  
and sad delight1 the group that met his 
view4  ,amra was reclining upon         
cushions1 and looking wan as a star that
 fades away before the dawn4 ,her head  
drooped upon her bosom1 her hair hung   
neglected upon her shoulders3 yet was   

she lovely still2 and ,govinda1 while he
 gazed1 remembered the words of the poet
 ,calidas3 ,the water-lily1 though dark 
moss may settle on its head1 is         
nevertheless beautiful2 and the moon1   
with dewy beams1 is rendered yet        
brighter by its dark spots4 ,she was    
clasping round her delicate wrist a     
bracelet of gems2 and when she observed1
 that ever as she placed it on her      
attenuated arm it fell again upon her   
hand1 she shook her head and smiled     
mournfully4 ,two of her maids sat at her
 feet1 occupied in their embroidery2 and
 old ,gautami1 at her side1 was         
relating1 in a slow1 monotonous         
recitative1 one of her thousand tales of
 wonder1 to divert the melancholy of her
 young mistress4 ,she told how the      
demi-god ,rama was forced to flee from  
the demons who had usurped his throne1  
and how his beautiful and faithful      
,seita wandered over the whole earth in 
search of her consort2 and1 being at    
length overcome with grief and fatigue1 

she sat down in the pathless wilderness 
and wept2 and how there arose from the  
spot1 where her tears sank warm into the
 earth1 a fountain of boiling water of  
exquisite clearness and wondrous        
virtues2 and how maidens1 who make a    
pilgrimage to this sacred well and dip  
their veils into its wave with pure     
devotion1 ensure themselves the utmost  
felicity in marriage3 thus the story    
ran4 ,amra1 who appeared at first       
abstracted and inattentive1 began to be 
affected by the misfortunes and the love
 of the beautiful ,seita2 and at the    
mention of the fountain and its virtues1
 she lifted her eyes with an expression 
of eager interest1 and met those of     
,govinda fixed upon her4 ,she uttered a 
faint cry1 and threw herself into the   
arms of ,gautami4 ,he hastened to       
deliver the commands of his preceptor1  
and then ,amra1 recovering her          
self-possession1 threw her veil round   
her1 arose1 and followed him to her     
father's presence4  ,as they drew near  

together1 the old man looked from one to
 the other4 ,perhaps his heart1 though  
dead to all human passions1 felt at that
 moment a touch of pity for the         
youthful1 lovely1 and loving pair who   
stood before him2 but his look was calm1
 cold1 and serene1 as usual4  ,draw     
near1 my son1 he said2 and thou1 my     
beloved daughter1 approach1 and listen  
to the will of your father4 ,the time is
 come1 when we must make ready all      
things for the arrival of the wise and  
honoured ,adhar4 ,my daughter1 let those
 pious ceremonies1 with which virtuous  
women prepare themselves ere they enter 
the dwelling of their husband1 be duly  
performed3 and do thou1 ,govinda1 son of
 my choice1 set my household in order1  
that all may be in readiness to receive 
with honour the bridegroom1 who comes to
 claim his betrothed4 ,to-morrow we will
 sacrifice to ,ganesa1 who is the       
guardian of travellers3 this night  must
 be given to penance and holy           
meditation4 ,amra1 retire3 and thou1    

,govinda1 take up that fagot of         
,tulsi-wood1 with the rice and the      
flowers for the evening oblation1 and   
follow me to the temple4 ,so saying1 the
 old man turned away hastily2 and       
without looking back1 pursued his path  
through the sacred grove4  ,alas for    
those he had left behind6 ,govinda      
remained silent and motionless4 ,amra   
would have obeyed her father1 but her   
limbs refused their office4 ,she        
trembled--she was sinking3 she timidly  
looked up to ,govinda as if for support2
 his arms were extended to receive her3 
she fell upon his neck1 and wept        
unrestrained tears4 ,he held her to his 
bosom as though he would have folded her
 into his inmost heart1 and hidden her  
there for ever4 ,he murmured passionate 
words of transport and fondness in her  
ear4 ,he drew aside her veil from her   
pale brow1 and ventured to print a kiss 
upon her closed eyelids4 ,to-night1 he  
whispered1 in the grove of mangoes by   
the river's bank6 ,she answered only by 

a mute caress2 and then supporting her  
steps to her own apartments1 he resigned
 her to the arms of her attendants1 and 
hastened after his preceptor4 ,he       
forgot1 however1 the materials for the  
evening sacrifice1 and in consequence   
not only had to suffer a severe rebuke  
from the old priest1 but the infliction 
of a penance extraordinary1 which       
detained him in the presence of his     
preceptor till the night was far        
advanced4 ,at length1 however1 ,sarma   
retired to holy meditation and mental   
abstraction1 and ,govinda was dismissed4
  ,he had hitherto maintained1 with     
habitual and determined self-command1   
that calm1 subdued exterior1 which      
becomes a pupil in the presence of his  
religious teacher2 but no sooner had he 
crossed the threshold1 and found himself
 alone breathing the free night-air of  
heaven1 than the smothered passions     
burst forth4 ,he paused for one instant1
 to anathematise in his soul the        
,sastras and their contents1 the gods   

and their temples1 the priests and the  
sacrifices2 the futile ceremonies and   
profitless suffering to which his life  
was abandoned1 and the cruel policy to  
which he had been made an unwilling     
victim4 ,then he thought of ,amra1 and  
all things connected with her changed   
their aspect4  ,in another moment he was
 beneath the shadow of the mangoes on   
the river's brink4 ,he looked round1    
,amra was not there3 he listened1 there 
was no sound4 ,the grass bore marks of  
having been recently pressed1 and still 
its perfume floated on the air4 ,a few  
flowers were scattered round1 fresh     
gathered1 and glittering with dew4      
,govinda wrung his hands in despair1 and
 flung himself upon the bank1 where a   
month before they had sat together4 ,on 
the very spot where ,amra had reclined1 
he perceived a lotos-leaf and a palasa  
flower laid together4 ,upon the         
lotos-leaf he could perceive written1   
with a thorn or some sharp point1 the   
word ,,amra2 and the crimson palasa-buds

 were sacred to the dead4 ,it was       
sufficient3 he thrust the leaf and the  
flowers into his bosom2 and1 swift as   
the sparkle of a glancing star1 he flew 
along the path which led to the garden  
sepulchre4  ,the mother of ,amra had    
died in giving birth to her only child4 
,she was young1 beautiful1 and virtuous2
 and had lived happily with her husband 
notwithstanding the disparity of age4   
,the pride and stoicism of his caste    
would not allow him to betray any       
violence of grief1 or show his affection
 for the dead1 otherwise than by raising
 to her memory a beautiful tomb4 ,it    
consisted of four light pillars1 richly 
and grotesquely carved1 supporting a    
pointed cupola1 beneath which was an    
altar for oblations3 the whole was      
overlaid with brilliant white stucco1   
and glittered through the gloom4 ,a     
flight of steps led up to this edifice3 
upon the highest step1 and at the foot  
of the altar1 ,amra was seated alone and
 weeping4  ,love--,o love6 what have ,i 

to do with thee8 ,how sinks the heart1  
how trembles the hand as it approaches  
the forbidden theme6 ,of all the gifts  
the gods have sent upon the earth thou  
most precious--yet ever most fatal6 ,as 
serpents dwell among the odorous boughs 
of the sandal-tree1 and alligators in   
the thrice sacred waters of the ,ganges1
 so all that is sweetest1 holiest1      
dearest upon earth1 is mixed up with    
sin1 and pain1 and misery1 and evil6    
,thus hath it been ordained from the    
beginning2 and the love that hath never 
mourned1 is not love4  ,how sweet1 yet  
how terrible1 were the moments that     
succeeded6 ,while ,govinda1 with fervid 
eloquence1 poured out his whole soul at 
her feet1 ,amra alternately melted with 
tenderness1 or shrunk with sensitive    
alarm4 ,when he darkly intimated the    
irresistible power he possessed to      
overcome all obstacles to their         
union--when he spoke with certainty of  
the time when she should be his1 spite  
of the world and men--when he described 

the glorious height to which his love   
would elevate her--the delights and the 
treasures he would lavish around her1   
she1 indeed1 understood not his words2  
yet1 with all a woman's trusting faith  
in him she loves1 she hung upon his     
accents--listened and believed4 ,the    
high and passionate energy1 with which  
his spirit1 so long pent up and crushed 
within him1 now revealed itself2 the    
consciousness of his own power1 the     
knowledge that he was beloved1 lent such
 a new and strange expression to his    
whole aspect1 and touched his fine form 
and features with such a proud and      
sparkling beauty1 that ,amra looked up  
at him with a mixture of astonishment1  
admiration1 and deep love1 not wholly   
unmingled with fear2 almost believing1  
that she gazed upon some more than      
mortal lover1 upon one of those bright  
genii1 who inhabit the lower heaven1 and
 have been known in the old time to     
leave their celestial haunts for love of
 the earth-born daughters of beauty4    

,amra did not speak1 but ,govinda felt  
his power4 ,he saw his advantage1 and1  
with the instinctive subtlety of his    
sex1 he pursued it4 ,he sighed1 he wept1
 he implored1 he upbraided4 ,amra1      
overpowered by his emotion and her own1 
had turned away her head1 and embraced  
one of the pillars of her mother's tomb1
 as if for protection4 ,in accents of   
the most plaintive tenderness she       
entreated him to leave her--to spare    
her--and even while she spoke her arm   
relaxed its hold1 and she was yielding  
to the gentle force with which he       
endeavoured to draw her away2 when at   
this moment1 so dangerous to both1 a    
startling sound was heard--a rustling   
among the bushes1 and then a soft1 low  
whistle4 ,govinda started up at that    
well-known signal1 and saw the head of  
the mute appearing just above the altar4
 ,his turban being green1 was           
undistinguishable against the leafy     
back-ground2 and his small black eyes   
glanced and glittered like those of a   

snake4 ,govinda would willingly have    
annihilated him at that moment4 ,he made
 a gesture of angry impatience1 and     
motioned him to retire2 but ,sahib stood
 still1 shook his hand with a           
threatening expression1 and made signs1 
that he must instantly follow him4      
,amra1 meantime1 who had neither seen   
nor heard any thing1 began to suspect1  
that ,govinda was communing with some   
invisible spirit2 she clung to him in   
terror1 and endeavoured to recall his   
attention to herself by the most tender 
and soothing words and caresses4 ,after 
some time he succeeded in calming her   
fears2 and with a thousand promises of  
quick return1 he at length tore himself 
away1 and followed through the thicket  
the form of ,sahib1 who glided like a   
shadow before him4  ,when they reached  
the accustomed spot1 the mute leapt into
 the canoe1 which he had made fast to   
the root of a mango-tree1 and motioning 
,govinda to follow him1 he pushed from  
the shore1 and rowed rapidly till they  

reached a tall1 bare rock near the      
centre of the stream1 beneath the dark  
shadow of which ,sahib moored his little
 boat1 out of the possible reach of     
human eye or ear4  ,all had passed so   
quickly1 that ,govinda felt like one in 
a dream2 but now1 awakening to a sense  
of his situation1 he held out his hand  
for the expected letter from his        
brother1 trembling to learn its import1 
upon which he felt that more than his   
life depended4 ,sahib1 meanwhile1 did   
not appear in haste to obey4 ,at length1
 after a pause of breathless suspense1  
,govinda heard a low and well-remembered
 voice repeat an almost-forgotten name3 
,faizi6 it said4  ,o ,prophet of ,god6  
my brother6 and he was clasped in the   
arms of ,abul ,fazil4  ,after the first 
transports of recognition had subsided1 
,faizi 7it is time to use his real name7
 sank from his brother's arms to his    
feet3 he clasped his knees4 ,my brother6
 he exclaimed1 what is now to be my     
fate8 ,you have not lightly assumed this

 disguise1 and braved the danger of     
discovery6 ,you know all1 and have come 
to save me--to bless me8 ,is it not so8 
,abul ,fazil could not see his brother's
 uplifted countenance1 flushed with the 
hectic of feverish impatience1 or his   
imploring eyes1 that floated in tears2  
but his tones were sufficiently         
expressive4  ,poor boy6 he said1        
compassionately1 ,i should have foreseen
 this4 ,but calm these transports1 my   
brother6 nothing is denied to the       
sultan's power1 and nothing will he deny
 thee4  ,he knows all1 then8  ,all--and 
by his command am ,i come4 ,i had       
feared1 that my brother had sold his    
vowed obedience for the smile of a      
dark-eyed girl--what shall ,i say8--,i  
feared for his safety6  ,o my brother6  
there is no cause6  ,i know             
it--enough6--,i have seen and heard6    
,faizi covered his face with his hands4 
,if the sultan----  ,have no doubts1    
said ,abul ,fazil3 nothing is denied to 
the sultan's power1 nothing will be     

denied to thee4  ,and the ,brahman      
,adhar8  ,it has been looked to--he will
 not trouble thee4  ,dead8 ,o merciful  
,allah6 crime upon crime6  ,his life is 
cared for1 said ,abul ,fazil1 calmly3   
ask no more4  ,it is sufficient4 ,o my  
brother6 ,o ,amra6--  ,she is           
thine6--,now hear the will of ,akbar4   
,faizi bowed his head with submission4  
,speak6 he said2 the slave of ,akbar    
listens4  ,in three months from this    
time1 continued ,abul ,fazil1 and on    
this appointed night1 it will be dark1  
and the pagodas deserted4 ,then1 and not
 till then1 will ,sahib be found at the 
accustomed spot4 ,he will bring in the  
skiff a dress1 which is the sultan's    
gift1 and will be a sufficient disguise4
 ,on the left bank of the stream there  
shall be stationed an ample guard1 with 
a close litter and a swift ,arabian4    
,thou shalt mount the one1 and in the   
other shall be placed this fair girl4   
,then fly3 having first flung her veil  
upon the river to beguile pursuit2 the  

rest ,i leave to thine own quick wit4   
,but let all be done with secrecy and   
subtlety2 for the sultan1 though he can 
refuse thee nothing1 would not willingly
 commit an open wrong against a people  
he has lately conciliated2 and the      
violation of a ,brahminee woman were    
enough to raise a province4  ,it shall  
not need1 exclaimed the youth1 clasping 
his hands3 she loves me6 ,she shall live
 for me--only for me--while others weep 
her dead6  ,it is well3 now return we in
 silence1 the night wears fast away4 ,he
 took one of the oars1 ,faizi seized the
 other1 and with some difficulty they   
rowed up the stream1 keeping close under
 the overshadowing banks4 ,having       
reached the little promontory1 they     
parted with a strict and mute embrace4  
,faizi looked for a moment after his    
brother1 then sprung forward to the spot
 where he had left ,amra2 but she was no
 longer there3 apparently she had been  
recalled by her nurse to her own        
apartments1 and did not again make her  

appearance4  ,three months more         
completed the five years which had been 
allotted for ,govinda's ,brahminical    
studies2 they passed but too rapidly    
away4 ,during this time the ,brahman    
,adhar did not arrive1 nor was his name 
again uttered3 and ,amra1 restored to   
health1 was more than ever tender and   
beautiful1 and more than ever beloved4  
,the old ,brahman1 who had hitherto     
maintained towards his pupil and adopted
 son a cold and distant demeanour1 now  
relaxed from his accustomed austerity1  
and when he addressed him it was in a   
tone of mildness1 and even tenderness4  
,alas for ,govinda6 every proof of this 
newly-awakened affection pierced his    
heart with unavailing remorse4 ,he had  
lived long enough among the ,brahmans1  
to anticipate with terror the effects of
 his treachery1 when once discovered2   
but he repelled such obtrusive images1  
and resolutely shut his eyes against a  
future1 which he could neither control  
nor avert4 ,he tried to persuade        

himself1 that it was now too late2 that 
the stoical indifference to all earthly 
evil1 passion1 and suffering1 which the 
,pundit ,sarma taught and practised1    
would sufficiently arm him against the  
double blow preparing for him4 ,yet1 as 
the hour approached1 the fever of       
suspense consumed his heart4 ,contrary  
passions distracted and bewildered him3 
his ideas of right and wrong became     
fearfully perplexed4 ,he would have     
given the treasures of ,istakar to      
arrest the swift progress of time4 ,he  
felt like one entangled in the wheels of
 some vast machine1 and giddily and     
irresistibly whirled along he knew not  
how nor whither4  ,at length the day    
arrived3 the morning broke forth in all 
that splendour with which she descends  
upon the ,indian steep4 ,govinda        
prepared for the early sacrifice1 the   
last he was to perform4 ,in spite of the
 heaviness and confusion which reigned  
in his own mind1 he could perceive that 
something unusual occupied the thoughts 

of his preceptor3 some emotion of a     
pleasurable kind had smoothed the old   
man's brow4 ,his voice was softened2 and
 though his lips were compressed1 almost
 a smile lighted up his eyes1 when he   
turned them on ,govinda4 ,the sacrifice 
was one of unusual pomp and solemnity1  
in honour of the goddess ,parvati1 and  
lasted till the sun's decline4 ,when    
they returned to the dwelling of ,sarma 
he dismissed his pupils from their      
learned exercises1 desiring them to make
 that day a day of rest and recreation1 
as if it were the festival of ,sri1 the 
goddess of learning1 when books1 pens1  
and paper1 being honoured as her        
emblems1 remain untouched1 and her      
votaries enjoy a sabbath4 ,when they    
were departed1 the old ,brahman         
commanded ,govinda to seat himself on   
the ground opposite to him4 ,this being 
the first time he had ever sat in the   
presence of his preceptor1 the young man
 hesitated2 but ,sarma motioned him to  
obey1 and accordingly he sat down at a  

respectful distance1 keeping his eyes   
reverently cast upon the ground4 ,the   
old man then spoke these words3  ,it is 
now five years since the son of ,mitra  
entered my dwelling4 ,he was then but a 
child1 helpless1 orphaned1 ignorant of  
all true knowledge2 expelled from the   
faith of his fathers and the privileges 
of his high caste4 ,i took him to my    
heart with joy1 ,i fed him1 ,i clothed  
him1 ,i opened his mind to truth1 ,i    
poured into his soul the light of       
knowledge3 he became to me a son4 ,if in
 any thing ,i have omitted the duty of a
 father towards him1 if ever ,i refused 
to him the wish of his heart or the     
desire of his eyes1 let him now speak6  
,o my father6--  ,no more1 said the     
,brahman1 gently1 ,i am answered in that
 one word2 but all that ,i have yet done
 seems as nothing in mine eyes3 for the 
love ,i bear my son is wide as the wide 
earth1 and my bounty shall be as the    
boundless firmament4 ,know that ,i have 
read thy soul6 ,start not6 ,i have      

received letters from the south country4
 ,amra is no longer the wife of ,adhar2 
for ,adhar has vowed himself to a life  
of penance and celibacy in the temple of
 ,indore1 by order of an offended       
prince2--may he find peace6 ,the        
writings of divorce are drawn up1 and my
 daughter being already past the age    
when a prudent father hastens to marry  
his child1 in order that the souls of   
the dead may be duly honoured by their  
posterity1 ,i have sought for her a     
husband1 such as a parent might desire2 
learned in the sciences1 graced with    
every virtue2 of unblemished life1 of   
unmixed caste1 and rich in the goods of 
this world4  ,the ,brahman stopped      
short4 ,faizi1 breathing with           
difficulty1 felt his blood pause at his 
heart4  ,my son6 continued the old man1 
,i have not coveted possessions or      
riches1 but the gods have blessed me    
with prosperity2 be they praised for    
their gifts6 ,look around upon this fair
 dwelling1 upon those fertile lands1    

which spread far and wide1 a goodly     
prospect2 and the herds that feed on    
them1 and the bondsmen who cultivate    
them2 with silver and gold1 and         
garments1 and rich stores heaped up1    
more than ,i can count--all these do ,i 
give thee freely3 possess them6 and with
 them ,i give thee a greater gift1 and  
one that ,i well believe is richer and  
dearer in thine eyes--my daughter1 my   
last and best treasure6 ,thus do ,i     
resign all worldly cares1 devoting      
myself henceforth solely to pious duties
 and religious meditation3 for the few  
days he has to live1 let the old man    
repose upon thy love6 ,a little water1 a
 little rice1 a roof to shelter him1    
these thou shalt bestow--he asks no     
more4  ,the ,brahman's voice faltered4  
,he rose1 and ,govinda stood up1        
trembling in every nerve4 ,the old      
priest then laid his hand solemnly upon 
his bowed head and blessed him4 ,my son6
 to me far better than many sons1 be    
thou blest as thou hast blessed me6 ,the

 just gods requite thee with full       
measure all thou hast done6 ,may the    
wife ,i bestow on thee bring to thy     
bosom all the felicity thou broughtest  
to me and mine1 and thy last hours be   
calm and bright1 as those thy love has  
prepared for me6  ,ah1 curse me not6    
exclaimed ,govinda1 with a cry of       
horror2 for in the anguish of that      
moment he felt as if the bitter         
malediction1 thus unconsciously         
pronounced1 was already fulfilling4 ,he 
flung himself upon the earth in an agony
 of self-humiliation2 he crawled to the 
feet of his preceptor1 he kissed them1  
he clasped his knees4 ,in broken words  
he revealed himself1 and confessed the  
treacherous artifice of which he was at 
once the instrument and the victim4 ,the
 ,brahman stood motionless1 scarcely    
comprehending the words spoken4 ,at     
length he seemed to awaken to the sense 
of what he heard1 and trembled from head
 to foot with an exceeding horror2 but  
he uttered no word of reproach3 and     

after a pause1 he suddenly drew the     
sacrificial poniard from his girdle1 and
 would have plunged it into his own     
bosom1 if ,faizi had not arrested his   
arm1 and without difficulty snatched the
 weapon from his shaking and powerless  
grasp4  ,if yet there be mercy for me1  
he exclaimed1 add not to my crimes this 
worst of all--make me not a sacrilegious
 murderer6 ,here1 he added1 kneeling1   
and opening his bosom1 strike6 satisfy  
at once a just vengeance1 and end all   
fears in the blood of an abhorred       
betrayer6 ,strike1 ere it be too late6  
,the old man twice raised his hand1 but 
it was without strength4 ,he dropped the
 knife1 and folding his arms1 and       
sinking his head upon his bosom1 he     
remained silent4  ,o yet6 exclaimed     
,faizi1 lifting with reverence the hem  
of his robe and pressing it to his lips1
 if there remain a hope for me1 tell me 
by what penance--terrible1 prolonged1   
and unheard-of--,i may expiate this sin2
 and hear me swear1 that1 henceforth1   

neither temptation1 nor torture1 nor    
death itself1 shall force me to reveal  
the secrets of the ,brahmin faith1 nor  
divulge the holy characters in which    
they are written3 and if ,i break this  
vow1 may ,i perish from off the earth   
like a dog6  ,the ,brahman clasped his  
hands1 and turned his eyes for a moment 
on the imploring countenance of the     
youth1 but averted them instantly with a
 shudder4  ,what have ,i to do with     
thee1 he said1 at length1 thou serpent6 
,well is it written--',though the       
upas-tree were watered with nectar from 
heaven instead of dew1 yet would it bear
 poison4' ,yet swear--  ,i do--,i will--
  ,never to behold my face again1 nor   
utter with those guileful and polluted  
lips the name of my daughter4  ,my      
father6  ,father6 repeated the old man1 
with a flash of indignation1 but it was 
instantly subdued4 ,swear6 he repeated1 
if vows can bind a thing so vile6  ,my  
father1 ,i embrace thy knees6 ,not      
heaven itself can annul the past1 and   

,amra is mine beyond the power of fate  
or vengeance to disunite us--but by     
death6  ,hah6 said the ,brahman1        
stepping back1 it is then as ,i feared6 
and this is well too6--he muttered2     
,heaven required a victim6  ,he moved   
slowly to the door1 and called his      
daughter with a loud voice3 ,amra heard 
and trembled in the recesses of her     
apartments4 ,the voice was her father's1
 but the tones of that voice made her   
soul sicken with fear2 and1 drawing her 
drapery round to conceal that alteration
 in her lovely form which was but too   
apparent1 she came forth with faltering 
steps4  ,approach6 said the ,brahman1   
fixing his eyes upon her1 while those of
 ,faizi1 after the first eager glance1  
remained rivetted to the earth4 ,she    
drew near with affright1 and gazed      
wildly from one to the other4  ,ay6 look
 well upon him6 whom dost thou behold8  
,my father6--,ah6 spare me6  ,is he your
 husband8  ,govinda6 alas6--speak for   
us6--  ,fool6--he grasped her           

supplicating hands1--say but the        
word--are you a wife8  ,i am6 ,i am6    
his1 before the face of ,heaven6        
,no6--he dropped her hands1 and spoke in
 a rapid and broken voice3 ,no6 ,heaven 
disclaims the monstrous mixture6 hell   
itself rejects it6 ,had he been the     
meanest among the sons of ,brahma1 ,i   
had borne it3 but an ,infidel1 a        
base-born ,moslem1 has contaminated the 
stream of my life6 ,accursed was the    
hour when he came beneath my roof1 like 
a treacherous fox and a ravening wolf1  
to betray and to destroy6 ,accursed was 
the hour1 which mingled the blood of    
,narayna with that of the son of a      
slave-girl6 ,shall ,i live to look upon 
a race of outcasts1 abhorred on earth   
and excommunicate from heaven1 and say1 
',these are the offspring of ,sarma8'   
,miserable girl6 thou wert preordained a
 sacrifice6 ,die6 and thine infamy      
perish with thee6 ,even while he spoke  
he snatched up the poniard which lay at 
his feet1 but this he needed not--the   

blow was already struck home1 and to her
 very heart4 ,before the vengeful steel 
could reach her1 she fell1 without a    
cry--a groan--senseless1 and1 as it     
seemed1 lifeless1 upon the earth4       
,faizi1 almost with a shriek1 sprang    
forward2 but the old man interposed3    
and1 with the strong grasp of           
supernatural strength--the strength of  
despair--held him back4 ,meantime the   
women1 alarmed by his cries1 rushed     
wildly in1 and bore away in their arms  
the insensible form of ,amra4 ,faizi    
strove to follow2 but1 at a sign from   
the ,brahman1 the door was quickly      
closed and fastened within1 so that it  
resisted all his efforts to force it4   
,he turned almost fiercely--,she will   
yet live6 he passionately exclaimed2 and
 the ,brahman replied1 calmly and       
disdainfully1 ,if she be the daughter of
 ,sarma1 she will die6 ,then rending his
 garments1 and tearing off his turban1  
he sat down upon the sacrificial hearth2
 and taking up dust and ashes1 scattered

 them on his bare head and flowing      
beard3 he then remained motionless1 with
 his chin upon his bosom1 and his arms  
crossed upon his knees4 ,in vain did    
,faizi kneel before him1 and weep1 and  
supplicate for one word1 one look3 he   
was apparently lost to all              
consciousness1 rigid1 torpid2 and1 but  
that he breathed1 and that there was at 
times a convulsive movement in his      
eyelids1 it might have been thought1    
that life itself was suspended1 or had  
altogether ceased4  ,thus did this long 
and most miserable day wear away1 and   
night came on4 ,faizi--who had spent the
 hours in walking to and fro like a     
troubled demon1 now listening at the    
door of the zenana1 from which no sound 
proceeded1 now endeavouring in vain to  
win1 by the most earnest entreaties1    
some sign of life or recognition from   
the old man--could no longer endure the 
horror of his own sensations4 ,he       
stepped into the open air1 and leaned   
his head against the porch4 ,the breeze1

 which blew freshly against his parched 
lips and throbbing temples1 revived his 
faculties4 ,after a few moments he      
thought he could distinguish voices1 and
 the trampling of men and horses1 borne 
on the night air4 ,he raised his hands  
in ecstacy4 ,again he bent his ear to   
listen3 he heard the splash of an oar4  
,they come6 he exclaimed1 almost aloud1 
one more plunge1 and it is done6 ,this  
hapless and distracted old man ,i will  
save from his own and other's fury1 and 
still be to him a son1 in his own       
despite4 ,and1 ,amra6 my own6 my        
beautiful6 my beloved6 oh1 how richly   
shall the future atone for these hours  
of anguish6 ,in these arms the cruel    
pride and prejudices of thy race shall  
be forgotten4 ,at thy feet ,i will pour 
the treasures of the world1 and lift    
thee to joys beyond the brightest       
visions of youthful fancy6 ,but--,o     
merciful ,allah6--  ,at the same moment 
a long1 loud1 and piercing shriek was   
heard from the women's apartments1      

followed by lamentable wailings4 ,he    
made but one bound to the door4 ,it     
resisted1 but his despair was strong4   
,he rushed against it with a force1 that
 burst it from its hinges1 and          
precipitated him into the midst of the  
chamber4 ,it was empty and dark2 so was 
the next1 and the next4 ,at last he     
reached the inner and most sacred       
apartment4 ,he beheld the lifeless form 
of ,amra extended on the ground4 ,over  
her face was thrown an embroidered veil3
 her head rested on the lap of her      
nurse1 whose features appeared rigid    
with horror4 ,the rest of the women1 who
 were weeping and wailing1 covered their
 heads1 and fled at his approach4 ,faizi
 called upon the name of her he loved3  
he snatched the veil from that once     
lovely face--that face which had never  
been revealed to him but in tender and  
soul-beaming beauty4 ,he looked1 and    
fell senseless on the floor4  ,the      
unhappy ,amra1 in recovering from her   
long swoon1 had fallen into a stupor1   

which her attendants mistook for        
slumber1 and left her for a short       
interval4 ,she awoke1 wretched girl6    
alone1 she awoke to the sudden and      
maddening sense of her lost state1 to   
all the pangs of outraged love1 violated
 faith1 shame1 anguish1 and despair4 ,in
 a paroxysm of delirium1 when none were 
near to soothe or to save1 she had made 
her own luxuriant and beautiful tresses 
the instrument of her destruction1 and  
choked herself by swallowing her hair4  
,when the emissaries of the sultan      
entered this house of desolation1 they  
found ,faizi still insensible at the    
side of her he had so loved4 ,he was    
borne away before recollection returned1
 placed in the litter which had been    
prepared for ,amra1 and earned to       
,ferrukabad1 where the sultan was then  
hunting with his whole court4 ,what     
became of the old ,brahman is not known4
 ,he passed away like a shadow from the 
earth1 and his place knew him not4      
,whether he sought a voluntary death1 or

 wore away his remaining years in secret
 penance1 can only be conjectured1 for  
all search was vain4  ,eastern records  
tell1 that ,faizi kept his promise      
sacred1 and never revealed the mysteries
 intrusted to him4 ,yet he retained the 
favour of ,akbar1 by whose command he   
translated from the ,sanscrit tongue    
several poetical and historical works   
into the choicest ,persian4 ,he became  
himself an illustrious poet2 and1 like  
other poets of greater fame1 created an 
immortality of his tears4 ,he acquired  
the title of ,sheich1 or the learned1   
and rose to the highest civil offices of
 the empire4 ,all outward renown1       
prosperity1 and fame1 were his2 but     
there was1 at least1 retributive justice
 in his early and tragical death4       
,towards the conclusion of ,akbar's     
reign1 ,abul ,fazil was sent upon a     
secret mission into the ,deccan1 and    
,faizi accompanied him4 ,the favour     
which these celebrated brothers enjoyed 
at court1 their influence over the mind 

of the sultan1 and their entire union1  
had long excited the jealousy of ,prince
 ,selim1#be the eldest son of ,akbar1   
and he had vowed their destruction4 ,on 
their return from the south1 with a     
small escort1 they were attacked by a   
numerous band of assassins1 disguised as
 robbers1 and both perished4 ,faizi was 
found lying upon the body of ,abul      
,fazil1 whom he had bravely defended to 
the last4 ,the death of these           
illustrious brothers was lamented1 not  
only within the bounds of the empire1   
but through all the kingdoms of the     
,east1 whither their fame had extended2 
and by the sultan's command they were   
interred together1 and with             
extraordinary pomp4 ,one incident only  
remains to be added4 ,when the bodies   
were stripped for burial1 there was     
found within the inner vest of the      
,sheich ,faizi1 and close to his heart1 
a withered ,lotus leaf inscribed with   
certain characters4 ,so great was the   
fame of the dead for wisdom1 learning1  

and devotion1 that it was supposed to be
 a talisman endued with extraordinary   
virtues1 and immediately transmitted to 
the sultan4 ,akbar considered the relic 
with surprise4 ,it was nothing but a    
simple ,lotus leaf1 faded1 shrivelled1  
and stained with blood2 but on examining
 it more closely1 he could trace1 in    
ill-formed and scarcely legible ,indian 
letters1 the word ,,amra4  ,and when    
,akbar looked upon this tender memorial 
of a hapless love1 and undying sorrow1  
his great heart melted within him1 and  
he wept4     ,,halloran ,,the           
,,pedlar4#bf   ,it grieves me1 said an  
eminent poet once to me1 it grieves and 
humbles me to reflect how much our moral
 nature is in the power of              
circumstances4 ,our best faculties would
 remain unknown even to ourselves did   
not the influences of external          
excitement call them forth like         
animalculae1 which lie torpid till      
awakened into life by the transient     
sunbeam4  ,this is generally true4 ,how 

many walk through the beaten paths of   
every-day life1 who but for the         
novelist's page would never weep or     
wonder2 and who would know nothing of   
the passions but as they are represented
 in some tragedy or stage piece8 not    
that they are incapable of high resolve 
and energy2 but because the finer       
qualities have never been called forth  
by imperious circumstances2 for while   
the wheels of existence roll smoothly   
along1 the soul will continue to slumber
 in her vehicle like a lazy traveller4  
,but for the ,french revolution1 how    
many hundreds--thousands--whose courage1
 fortitude1 and devotedness have        
sanctified their names1 would have      
frittered away a frivolous1 useless1 or 
vicious life in the saloons of ,paris6  
,we have heard of death in its most     
revolting forms braved by delicate      
females1 who would have screamed at the 
sight of the most insignificant reptile 
or insect2 and men cheerfully toiling at
 mechanic trades for bread1 who had     

lounged away the best years of their    
lives at the toilettes of their         
mistresses4 ,we know not of what we are 
capable till the trial comes2--till it  
comes1 perhaps1 in a form which makes   
the strong man quail1 and turns the     
gentler woman into a heroine4  ,the     
power of outward circumstances suddenly 
to awaken dormant faculties--the        
extraordinary influence which the mere  
instinct of self-preservation can exert 
over the mind1 and the triumph of mind  
thus excited over physical weakness1    
were never more truly exemplified than  
in the story of ,,halloran ,,the        
,,pedlar4  ,the real circumstances of   
this singular case1 differing           
essentially from the garbled and        
incorrect account which appeared in the 
newspapers some years ago1 came to my   
knowledge in the following simple       
manner4 ,my cousin ,george ,c 99 99 991 
an ,irish barrister of some standing1   
lately succeeded to his family estates  
by the death of a near relative2 and no 

sooner did he find himself in possession
 of independence than1 abjuring the bar1
 where1 after twenty years of hard      
struggling1 he was just beginning to    
make a figure1 he set off on a tour     
through ,italy and ,greece1 to forget   
the wrangling of courts1 the contumely  
of attornies1 and the impatience of     
clients4 ,he left in my hands a mass of 
papers1 to burn or not1 as ,i might feel
 inclined3 and truly the contents of his
 desk were no bad illustration of the   
character and pursuits of its owner4    
,here ,i found abstracts of cases1 and  
on their backs copies of verses1        
sketches of scenery1 and numerous       
caricatures of judges1 jurymen1         
witnesses1 and his brethren of the      
bar--a bundle of old briefs1 and the    
beginnings of two tragedies2 with a long
 list of ,lord ,n----'s best jokes to   
serve his purposes as occasion might    
best offer4 ,among these heterogeneous  
and confused articles were a number of  
scraps carefully pinned together1       

containing notes on a certain trial1 the
 first in which he had been retained as 
counsel for the crown4 ,the intense     
interest with which ,i perused these    
documents1 suggested the plan of        
throwing the whole into a connected     
form1 and here it is for the reader's   
benefit4  ,in a little village to the   
south of ,clonmell lived a poor peasant 
named ,michael1 or as it was there      
pronounced ,mickle ,reilly4 ,he was a   
labourer renting a cabin and a plot of  
potatoe-ground2 and1 on the strength of 
these possessions1 a robust frame which 
feared no fatigue1 and a sanguine mind  
which dreaded no reverse1 ,reilly paid  
his addresses to ,cathleen ,bray1 a     
young girl of his own parish1 and they  
were married4 ,reilly was able1 skilful1
 and industrious2 ,cathleen was the best
 spinner in the county1 and had constant
 sale for her work at ,clonmell3 they   
wanted nothing2 and for the first year1 
as ,cathleen said1 ,there wasn't upon   
the blessed earth two happier souls than

 themselves1 for ,mick was the best boy 
in the world1 and hadn't a fault to     
spake of--barring he took a drop now and
 then2 an' why wouldn't he8 ,but as it  
happened1 poor ,reilly's love of the    
drop was the beginning of all their     
misfortunes4 ,in an evil hour he went to
 the ,fair of ,clonmell to sell a dozen 
hanks of yarn of his wife's spinning1   
and a fat pig1 the produce of which was 
to pay half a year's rent1 and add to   
their little comforts4 ,here he met with
 a jovial companion1 who took him into a
 booth1 and treated him to sundry       
potations of whiskey2 and while in his  
company his pocket was picked of the    
money he had just received1 and         
something more2 in short1 of all he     
possessed in the world4 ,at that        
luckless moment1 while maddened by his  
loss and heated with liquor1 he fell    
into the company of a recruiting        
serjeant4 ,the many-coloured and gaily  
fluttering cockade in the soldier's cap 
shone like a rainbow of hope and promise

 before the drunken eyes of ,mickle     
,reilly1 and ere morning he was enlisted
 into a regiment under orders for       
embarkation1 and instantly sent off to  
,cork4  ,distracted by the ruin he had  
brought upon himself1 and his wife1     
7whom he loved a thousand times better  
than himself17 poor ,reilly sent a      
friend to inform ,cathleen of his       
mischance1 and to assure her that on a  
certain day1 in a week from that time1 a
 letter would await her at the ,clonmell
 post-office3 the same friend was       
commissioned to deliver her his silver  
watch1 and a guinea out of his          
bounty-money4 ,poor ,cathleen turned    
from the gold with horror1 as the price 
of her husband's blood1 and vowed that  
nothing on earth should induce her to   
touch it4 ,she was not a good calculator
 of time and distance1 and therefore    
rather surprised that so long a time    
must elapse before his letter arrived4  
,on the appointed day she was too       
impatient to wait the arrival of the    

carrier1 but set off to ,clonmell       
herself1 a distance of ten miles3 there1
 at the post-office1 she duly found the 
promised letter2 but it was not till she
 had it in her possession that she      
remembered she could not read3 she had  
therefore to hasten back to consult her 
friend ,nancy1 the schoolmaster's       
daughter1 and the best scholar in the   
village4 ,reilly's letter1 on being     
deciphered with some difficulty even by 
the learned ,nancy1 was found to contain
 much of sorrow1 much of repentance1 and
 yet more of affection3 he assured her  
that he was far better off than he had  
expected or deserved2 that the          
embarkation of the regiment to which he 
belonged was delayed for three weeks1   
and entreated her1 if she could forgive 
him1 to follow him to ,cork without     
delay1 that they might part in love and 
kindness1 and then come what might1 he  
would demane himself like a man1 and die
 asy1 which he assured her he could not 
do without embracing her once more4     

,cathleen listened to her husband's     
letter with clasped hands and drawn     
breath1 but quiet in her nature1 she    
gave no other signs of emotion than a   
few large tears which trickled slowly   
down her cheeks4 ,and will ,i see him   
again8 she exclaimed2 poor fellow6 poor 
boy6 ,i knew the heart of him was sore  
for me6 and who knows1 ,nancy dear1 but 
they'll let me go out with him to the   
foreign parts8 ,oh6 sure they wouldn't  
be so hard-hearted as to part man and   
wife that way6  ,after a hurried        
consultation with her neighbours1 who   
sympathised with her as only the poor   
sympathise with the poor1 a letter was  
indited by ,nancy and sent by the       
carrier that night1 to inform her       
husband that she purposed setting off   
for ,cork the next blessed morning1     
being ,tuesday1 and as the distance was 
about forty-eight miles ,english1 she   
reckoned on reaching that city by       
,wednesday afternoon2 for as she had    
walked to ,clonmell and back 7about     

twenty miles7 that same day1 without    
feeling fatigued at all1 to signify1    
,cathleen thought there would be no     
doubt that she could walk to ,cork in   
less than two days4 ,in this sanguine   
calculation she was1 however1 overruled 
by her more experienced neighbours1 and 
by their advice appointed ,thursday as  
the day on which her husband was to     
expect her1 ,god willing4  ,cathleen    
spent the rest of the day in making     
preparations for her journey3 she set   
her cabin in order1 and made a small    
bundle of a few articles of clothing    
belonging to herself and her husband4   
,the watch and the guinea she wrapped up
 together1 and crammed into the toe of  
an old shoe1 which she deposited in the 
said bundle1 and the next morning1 at   
sparrow chirp1 she arose1 locked her    
cabin door1 carefully hid the key in the
 thatch1 and with a light expecting     
heart commenced her long journey4  ,it  
is worthy of remark1 that this poor     
woman1 who was called upon to play the  

heroine in such a strange tragedy1 and  
under such appalling circumstances1 had 
nothing heroic in her exterior3 nothing 
that in the slightest degree indicated  
strength of nerve or superiority of     
intellect4 ,cathleen was twenty-three   
years of age1 of a low stature1 and in  
her form rather delicate than robust3   
she was of ordinary appearance2 her eyes
 were mild and dove-like1 and her whole 
countenance1 though not absolutely      
deficient in intelligence1 was more     
particularly expressive of simplicity1  
good temper1 and kindness of heart4  ,it
 was summer1 about the end of ,june3 the
 days were long1 the weather fine1 and  
some gentle showers rendered travelling 
easy and pleasant4 ,cathleen walked on  
stoutly towards ,cork1 and by the       
evening she had accomplished1 with      
occasional pauses of rest1 nearly       
twenty-one miles4 ,she lodged at a      
little inn by the road side1 and the    
following day set forward again1 but    
soon felt stiff with the travel of two  

previous days3 the sun became hotter1   
the ways dustier2 and she could not with
 all her endeavours get farther than    
,rathcormuck1 eighteen miles from ,cork4
 ,the next day1 unfortunately for poor  
,cathleen1 proved hotter and more       
fatiguing than the preceding4 ,the cross
 road lay over a wild country1          
consisting of low bogs and bare hills4  
,about noon she turned aside to a       
rivulet bordered by a few trees1 and    
sitting down in the shade1 she bathed   
her swollen feet in the stream3 then    
overcome by heat1 weakness1 and         
excessive weariness1 she put her little 
bundle under her head for a pillow1 and 
sank into a deep sleep4  ,on waking she 
perceived with dismay that the sun was  
declining3 and on looking about1 her    
fears were increased by the discovery   
that her bundle was gone4 ,her first    
thought was that the good people1 7i4 e4
 the fairies7 had been there and stolen 
it away2 but on examining farther she   
plainly perceived large foot-prints in  

the soft bank1 and was convinced it was 
the work of no unearthly marauder4      
,bitterly reproaching herself for her   
carelessness1 she again set forward2 and
 still hoping to reach ,cork that night1
 she toiled on and on with increasing   
difficulty and distress1 till as the    
evening closed her spirits failed1 she  
became faint1 foot-sore and hungry1 not 
having tasted any thing since the       
morning but a cold potatoe and a draught
 of buttermilk4 ,she then looked round  
her in hopes of discovering some        
habitation1 but there was none in sight 
except a lofty castle on a distant hill1
 which raising its proud turrets from   
amidst the plantations which surrounded 
it1 glimmered faintly through the       
gathering gloom1 and held out no        
temptation for the poor wanderer to turn
 in there and rest4 ,in her despair she 
sat her down on a bank by the road side1
 and wept as she thought of her husband4
  ,several horsemen rode by1 and one    
carriage and four attended by servants1 

who took no farther notice of her than  
by a passing look2 while they went on   
their way like the priest and the       
,levite in the parable1 poor ,cathleen  
dropped her head despairingly on her    
bosom4 ,a faintness and torpor seemed to
 be stealing like a dark cloud over her 
senses1 when the fast approaching sound 
of footsteps roused her attention1 and  
turning1 she saw at her side a man whose
 figure1 too singular to be easily      
forgotten1 she recognized immediately3  
it was ,halloran the ,pedlar4  ,halloran
 had been known for thirty years past in
 all the towns and villages between     
,waterford and ,kerry4 ,he was very old1
 he himself did not know his own age2 he
 only remembered that he was a tall slip
 of a boy when he was one of the ----   
regiment of foot1 and fought in ,america
 in #aggh4 ,his dress was strange1 it   
consisted of a woollen cap1 beneath     
which strayed a few white hairs1 this   
was surmounted by an old military cocked
 hat1 adorned with a few fragments of   

tarnished gold lace2 a frieze great coat
 with the sleeves dangling behind1 was  
fastened at his throat1 and served to   
protect his box of wares which was slung
 at his back2 and he always carried a   
thick oak stick or kippeen in his hand4 
,there was nothing of the infirmity of  
age in his appearance3 his cheek1 though
 wrinkled and weather-beaten1 was still 
ruddy3 his step still firm1 his eyes    
still bright3 his jovial disposition    
made him a welcome guest in every       
cottage1 and his jokes1 though not equal
 to my ,lord ,norbury's1 were repeated  
and applauded through the whole country4
 ,halloran was returning from the fair  
of ,kilkenny1 where apparently his      
commercial speculations had been        
attended with success1 as his pack was  
considerably diminished in size4 ,though
 he did not appear to recollect         
,cathleen1 he addressed her in ,irish1  
and asked her what she did there3 she   
related in a few words her miserable    
situation4  ,in troth1 then1 my heart is

 sorry for ye1 poor woman1 he replied1  
compassionately2 and what will ye do8   
,an' what can ,i do8 replied ,cathleen1 
disconsolately2 and how will ,i even    
find the ford and get across to ,cork1  
when ,i don't know where ,i am this     
blessed moment8  ,musha1 then1 it's     
little ye'll get there this night1 said 
the pedlar1 shaking his head4  ,then    
,i'll lie down here and die1 said       
,cathleen1 bursting into fresh tears4   
,die6 ye wouldn't6 he exclaimed1        
approaching nearer2 is it to me1 ,peter 
,halloran1 ye spake that word2 and am ,i
 the man that would lave a faymale at   
this dark hour by the way-side1 let     
alone one that has the face of a friend1
 though ,i cannot remember me of your   
name either1 for the soul of me4 ,but   
what matter for that8  ,sure1 ,i'm      
,katty ,reilly1 of ,castle ,conn4       
,katty ,reilly1 sure enough6 and so no  
more talk of dying2 cheer up1 and see1 a
 mile farther on1 isn't there ,biddy    
,hogan's8 ,was1 ,i mane1 if the house   

and all isn't gone3 and it's there we'll
 get a bite and a sup1 and a bed1 too1  
please ,god4 ,so lean upon my arm1 ma   
vourneen1 it's strong enough yet4  ,so  
saying1 the old man1 with an air of     
gallantry1 half rustic1 half military1  
assisted her in rising2 and supporting  
her on one arm1 with the other he       
flourished his kippeen over his head1   
and they trudged on together1 he singing
 ,cruiskeen-lawn at the top of his      
voice1 just1 as he said1 to put the     
heart into her4  ,after about half an   
hour's walking1 they came to two        
crossways1 diverging from the high road3
 down one of these the pedlar turned1   
and in a few minutes they came in sight 
of a lonely house1 situated at a little 
distance from the way-side4 ,above the  
door was a long stick projecting from   
the wall1 at the end of which dangled a 
truss of straw1 signifying that within  
there was entertainment 7good or bad7   
for man and beast4 ,by this time it was 
nearly dark1 and the pedlar going up to 

the door1 lifted the latch1 expecting it
 to yield to his hand2 but it was       
fastened within3 he then knocked and    
called1 but there was no answer4 ,the   
building1 which was many times larger   
than an ordinary cabin1 had once been a 
manufactory1 and afterwards a           
farm-house4 ,one end of it was deserted1
 and nearly in ruins2 the other end bore
 signs of having been at least recently 
inhabited4 ,but such a dull hollow echo 
rung through the edifice at every knock1
 that it seemed the whole place was now 
deserted4  ,cathleen began to be        
alarmed1 and crossed herself1           
ejaculating1 ,o ,god preserve us6 ,but  
the pedlar1 who appeared well acquainted
 with the premises1 led her round to the
 back part of the house1 where there    
were some ruined out-buildings1 and     
another low entrance4 ,here1 raising his
 stout stick1 he let fall such a heavy  
thump on the door that it cracked again2
 and a shrill voice from the other side 
demanded who was there8 ,after a        

satisfactory answer1 the door was slowly
 and cautiously opened1 and the figure  
of a wrinkled1 half-famished1 and       
half-naked beldam appeared1 shading a   
rush candle with one hand4 ,halloran1   
who was of a fiery and hasty temper1    
began angrily3 ,why1 then1 in the name  
of the great devil himself1 didn't you  
open to us8 ,but he stopped suddenly1 as
 if struck with surprise at the         
miserable object before him4  ,is it    
,biddy ,hogan herself1 ,i see6 he       
exclaimed1 snatching the candle from her
 hand1 and throwing the light full on   
her face4 ,a moment's scrutiny seemed   
enough1 and too much2 for1 giving it    
back hastily1 he supported ,cathleen    
into the kitchen1 the old woman leading 
the way1 and placed her on an old       
settle1 the first seat which presented  
itself4 ,when she was sufficiently      
recovered to look about her1 ,cathleen  
could not help feeling some alarm at    
finding herself in so gloomy and dreary 
a place4 ,it had once been a large      

kitchen1 or hall3 at one end was an     
ample chimney1 such as are yet to be    
seen in some old country houses4 ,the   
rafters were black with smoke or        
rottenness3 the walls had been          
wainscoted with oak1 but the greatest   
part had been torn down for firing4 ,a  
table with three legs1 a large stool1 a 
bench in the chimney propped up with    
turf sods1 and the seat ,cathleen       
occupied1 formed the only furniture4    
,every thing spoke utter misery1 filth1 
and famine--the very abomination of     
desolation4  ,and what have ye in the   
house1 ,biddy1 honey8 was the pedlar's  
first question1 as the old woman set    
down the light4 ,little enough1 ,i'm    
thinking4  ,little6 ,it's nothing1      
then--no1 not so much as a midge would  
eat have ,i in the house this blessed   
night1 and nobody to send down to       
,balgowna4  ,no need of that1 as our    
good luck would have it1 said ,halloran1
 and pulling a wallet from under his    
loose coat1 he drew from it a bone of   

cold meat1 a piece of bacon1 a lump of  
bread1 and some cold potatoes4 ,the old 
woman1 roused by the sight of so much   
good cheer1 began to blow up the dying  
embers on the hearth2 put down among    
them the few potatoes to warm1 and      
busied herself in making some little    
preparations to entertain her guests4   
,meantime the old pedlar1 casting from  
time to time an anxious glance towards  
,cathleen1 and now and then an          
encouraging word1 sat down on the low   
stool1 resting his arms on his knees4   
,times are sadly changed with ye1 ,biddy
 ,hogan1 said he at length1 after a long
 silence4  ,troth1 ye may say so1 she   
replied1 with a sort of groan4 ,bitter  
bad luck have we had in this world1 any 
how4  ,and where's the man of the house8
 ,and where's the lad1 ,barny8  ,where  
are they1 is it8 ,where should they be8 
may be gone down to ,ahnamoe4  ,but     
what's come of ,barny8 ,the boy was a   
stout workman1 and a good son1 though a 
devil-may-care fellow1 too4 ,i remember 

teaching him the soldier's exercise with
 this very blessed stick now in my hand2
 and by the same token1 him doubling his
 fist at me when he wasn't bigger than  
the turf-kish yonder2 aye1 and as long  
as ,barny ,hogan could turn a sod of    
turf on my lord's land1 ,i thought his  
father and mother would never have      
wanted the bit and sup while the life   
was in him4  ,at the mention of her son1
 the old woman looked up a moment1 but  
immediately hung her head again4  ,barny
 doesn't work for my lord now1 said she4
  ,and what for1 then8  ,the old woman  
seemed reluctant to answer--she         
hesitated4  ,ye didn't hear1 then1 how  
he got into trouble with my lord2 and   
how--myself doesn't know the rights of  
it--but ,barny had always a bit of wild 
blood about him2 and since that day he's
 taken to bad ways1 and the ould man's  
ruled by him quite entirely2 and the    
one's glum and fierce like--and         
t'other's bothered2 and1 oh6 bitter's   
the time ,i have 'twixt 'em both6       

,while the old woman was uttering these 
broken complaints1 she placed the       
eatables on the table2 and ,cathleen1   
who was yet more faint from hunger than 
subdued by fatigue1 was first helped by 
the good-natured pedlar to the best of  
what was there3 but1 just as she was    
about to taste the food set before her1 
she chanced to see the eyes of the old  
woman fixed upon the morsel in her hand 
with such an envious and famished look1 
that from a sudden impulse of benevolent
 feeling1 she instantly held it out to  
her4 ,the woman started1 drew back her  
extended hand1 and gazed at her wildly4 
,what is it then ails ye8 said          
,cathleen1 looking at her with wonder2  
then to herself1 hunger's turned the    
wits of her1 poor soul6 ,take it--take  
it1 mother1 added she aloud3 eat1 good  
mother2 sure there's plenty for us all1 
and to spare1 and she pressed it upon   
her with all the kindness of her nature4
 ,the old woman eagerly seized it4  ,god
 reward ye1 said she1 grasping          

,cathleen's hand1 convulsively1 and     
retiring to a corner1 she devoured the  
food with almost wolfish voracity4      
,while they were eating1 the two        
,hogans1 father and son1 came in4 ,they 
had been setting snares for rabbits and 
game on the neighbouring hills2 and     
evidently were both startled and        
displeased to find the house occupied2  
which1 since ,barny ,hogan's disgrace   
with my lord1 had been entirely shunned 
by the people round about4 ,the old man 
gave the pedlar a sulky welcome4 ,the   
son1 with a muttered curse1 went and    
took his seat in the chimney1 where1    
turning his back1 he set himself to chop
 a billet of wood4 ,the father was a    
lean stooping figure1 bony1 and gaunt1  
and grim3 he was either deaf1 or        
affected deafness4 ,the son was a short1
 brawny1 thickset man1 with features not
 naturally ugly1 but rendered worse than
 ugly by an expression of louring       
ferocity disgustingly blended with a    
sort of stupid drunken leer1 the effect 

of habitual intoxication4  ,halloran    
stared at them awhile with visible      
astonishment and indignation1 but pity  
and sorrow for a change so lamentable1  
smothered the old man's wrath2 and as   
the eatables were by this time          
demolished1 he took from his side pocket
 a tin flask of whiskey1 calling to the 
old woman to boil some water screeching 
hot1 that he might make what he termed a
 jug of stiff punch--enough to make a   
cat spake4 ,he offered to share it with 
his hosts1 who did not decline drinking2
 and the noggin went round to all but   
,cathleen1 who1 feverish with           
travelling1 and1 besides1 disliking     
spirits1 would not taste it4 ,the old   
pedlar1 reconciled to his old           
acquaintances by this show of good      
fellowship1 began to grow merry under   
the influence of his whiskey-punch3 he  
boasted of his late success in trade1   
showed with exultation his almost empty 
pack1 and taking out the only two       
handkerchiefs left in it1 threw one to  

,cathleen1 and the other to the old     
woman of the house2 then slapping his   
pocket1 in which a quantity of loose    
money was heard to jingle1 he swore he  
would treat ,cathleen to a good         
breakfast next morning2 and threw a     
shilling on the table1 desiring the old 
woman would provide stirabout for a     
dozen1 and have it ready by the first   
light4  ,cathleen listened to this      
rhodomontade in some alarm2 she fancied 
she detected certain suspicious glances 
between the father and son1 and began to
 feel an indescribable dread of her     
company4 ,she arose from the table1     
urging the pedlar good-humouredly to    
retire to rest1 as they intended to be  
up and away so early next morning3 then 
concealing her apprehensions under an   
affectation of extreme fatigue and      
drowsiness1 she desired to be shown     
where she was to sleep4 ,the old woman  
lighted a lanthorn1 and led the way up  
some broken steps into a sort of loft1  
where she showed her two beds standing  

close together2 one of these she        
intimated was for the pedlar1 and the   
other for herself4 ,now ,cathleen had   
been born and bred in an ,irish cabin1  
where the inmates are usually lodged    
after a very promiscuous fashion2 our   
readers1 therefore1 will not wonder at  
the arrangement4 ,cathleen1 however1    
required that1 if possible1 some kind of
 skreen should be placed between the    
beds4 ,the old hag at first replied to  
this request with the most disgusting   
impudence2 but ,cathleen insisting1 the 
beds were moved asunder1 leaving a space
 of about two feet between them2 and    
after a long search a piece of old      
frieze was dragged out from among some  
rubbish1 and hung up to the low rafters1
 so as to form a curtain or partition   
half-way across the room4 ,having       
completed this arrangement1 and wished  
her a sweet sleep and a sound1 and lucky
 dreams1 the old woman put the lanthorn 
on the floor1 for there was neither     
chair nor table1 and left her guest to  

repose4  ,cathleen said her prayers1    
only partly undressed herself1 and      
lifting up the worn-out coverlet1 lay   
down upon the bed4 ,in a quarter of an  
hour afterwards the pedlar staggered    
into the room1 and as he passed the foot
 of her bed1 bid ,god bless her1 in a   
low voice4 ,he then threw himself down  
on his bed1 and in a few minutes1 as she
 judged by his hard and equal breathing1
 the old man was in a deep sleep4  ,all 
was now still in the house1 but         
,cathleen could not sleep4 ,she was     
feverish and restless2 her limbs ached1 
her head throbbed and burned1           
undefinable fears beset her fancy2 and  
whenever she tried to compose herself to
 slumber1 the faces of the two men she  
had left below flitted and glared before
 her eyes4 ,a sense of heat and         
suffocation1 accompanied by a parching  
thirst1 came over her1 caused1 perhaps1 
by the unusual closeness of the room4   
,this feeling of oppression increased   
till the very walls and rafters seemed  

to approach nearer and close upon her   
all around4 ,unable any longer to endure
 this intolerable smothering sensation1 
she was just about to rise and open the 
door or window1 when she heard the      
whispering of voices4 ,she lay still and
 listened4 ,the latch was raised        
cautiously1--the door opened1 and the   
two ,hogans entered3 they trod so softly
 that1 though she saw them move before  
her1 she heard no foot-fall4 ,they      
approached the bed of ,halloran1 and    
presently she heard a dull heavy blow1  
and then sounds--appalling sickening    
sounds--as of subdued struggles and     
smothered agony1 which convinced her    
that they were murdering the unfortunate
 pedlar4  ,cathleen listened1 almost    
congealed with horror1 but she did not  
swoon3 her turn1 she thought1 must come 
next1 though in the same instant she    
felt instinctively that her only chance 
of preservation was to counterfeit      
profound sleep4 ,the murderers1 having  
done their work on the poor ,pedlar1    

approached her bed1 and threw the gleam 
of their lanthorn full on her face2 she 
lay quite still1 breathing calmly and   
regularly4 ,they brought the light to   
her eye-lids1 but they did not wink or  
move2--there was a pause1 a terrible    
pause1 and then a whispering2--and      
presently ,cathleen thought she could   
distinguish a third voice1 as of        
expostulation1 but all in so very low a 
tone that though the voices were close  
to her she could not hear a word that   
was uttered4 ,after some moments1 which 
appeared an age of agonising suspense1  
the wretches withdrew1 and ,cathleen was
 left alone1 and in darkness4 ,then1    
indeed1 she felt as one ready to die3 to
 use her own affecting language1 the    
heart within me1 said she1 melted away  
like water1 but ,i was resolute not to  
swoon1 and ,i did not4 ,i knew that if  
,i would preserve my life1 ,i must keep 
the sense in me1 and ,i did4  ,now and  
then she fancied she heard the murdered 
man move1 and creep about in his bed1   

and this horrible conceit almost        
maddened her with terror3 but she set   
herself to listen fixedly1 and convinced
 her reason that all was still--that all
 was over4  ,she then turned her        
thoughts to the possibility of escape4  
,the window first suggested itself3 the 
faint moon-light was just struggling    
through its dirty and cobwebbed panes3  
it was very small1 and ,cathleen        
reflected1 that besides the difficulty1 
and1 perhaps1 impossibility of getting  
through1 it must be some height from the
 ground3 neither could she tell on which
 side of the house it was situated1 nor 
in what direction to turn1 supposing she
 reached the ground3 and1 above all1 she
 was aware that the slightest noise must
 cause her instant destruction4 ,she    
thus resolved upon remaining quiet4  ,it
 was most fortunate that ,cathleen came 
to this determination1 for without the  
slightest previous sound the door again 
opened1 and in the faint light1 to which
 her eyes were now accustomed1 she saw  

the head of the old woman bent forward  
in a listening attitude3 in a few       
minutes the door closed1 and then       
followed a whispering outside4 ,she     
could not at first distinguish a word   
until the woman's sharper tones broke   
out1 though in suppressed vehemence1    
with ,if ye touch her life1 ,barny1 a   
mother's curse go with ye6 enough's     
done4  ,she'll live1 then1 to hang us   
all1 said the miscreant son4  ,sooner   
than that1 ,i'd draw this knife across  
her throat with my own hands2 and ,i'd  
do it again and again1 sooner than they 
should touch your life1 ,barny1 jewel3  
but no fear1 the creature's asleep or   
dead already1 with the fright of it4    
,the son then said something which      
,cathleen could not hear2 the old woman 
replied1  ,hisht6 ,i tell ye1 no1--no2  
the ship's now in the ,cove of ,cork    
that's to carry her over the salt seas  
far enough out of the way3 and haven't  
we all she has in the world8 and more1  
didn't she take the bit out of her own  

mouth to put into mine8  ,the son again 
spoke inaudibly2 and then the voices    
ceased1 leaving ,cathleen uncertain as  
to her fate4  ,shortly after the door   
opened1 and the father and son again    
entered1 and carried out the body of the
 wretched pedlar4 ,they seemed to have  
the art of treading without noise1 for  
though ,cathleen saw them move1 she     
could not hear a sound of a footstep4   
,the old woman was all this time        
standing by her bed1 and every now and  
then casting the light full upon her    
eyes2 but as she remained quite still1  
and apparently in a deep calm sleep1    
they left her undisturbed1 and she      
neither saw nor heard any more of them  
that night4  ,it ended at length--that  
long1 long night of horror4 ,cathleen   
lay quiet till she thought the morning  
sufficiently advanced4 ,she then rose1  
and went down into the kitchen3 the old 
woman was lifting a pot off the fire1   
and nearly let it fall as ,cathleen     
suddenly addressed her1 and with an     

appearance of surprise and concern1     
asked for her friend the pedlar1 saying 
she had just looked into his bed1       
supposing he was still asleep1 and to   
her great amazement had found it empty4 
,the old woman replied1 that he had set 
out at early daylight for ,mallow1      
having only just remembered that his    
business called him that way before he  
went to ,cork4 ,cathleen affected great 
wonder and perplexity1 and reminded the 
woman that he had promised to pay for   
her breakfast4  ,an' so he did1 sure    
enough1 she replied1 and paid for it    
too2 and by the same token didn't ,i go 
down to ,balgowna myself for the milk   
and the male before the sun was over the
 tree tops2 and here it is for ye1 ma   
colleen3 so saying1 she placed a bowl of
 stirabout and some milk before         
,cathleen1 and then sat down on the     
stool opposite to her1 watching her     
intently4  ,poor ,cathleen6 she had but 
little inclination to eat1 and felt as  
if every bit would choke her3 yet she   

continued to force down her breakfast1  
and apparently with the utmost ease and 
appetite1 even to the last morsel set   
before her4 ,while eating1 she inquired 
about the husband and son1 and the old  
woman replied1 that they had started at 
the first burst of light to cut turf in 
a bog1 about five miles distant4  ,when 
,cathleen had finished her breakfast1   
she returned the old woman many thanks  
for her kind treatment1 and then desired
 to know the nearest way to ,cork4 ,the 
woman ,hogan informed her that the      
distance was about seven miles1 and     
though the usual road was by the        
high-way from which they had turned the 
preceding evening1 there was a much     
shorter way across some fields which she
 pointed out4 ,cathleen listened        
attentively to her directions1 and then 
bidding farewell with many              
demonstrations of gratitude1 she        
proceeded on her fearful journey4 ,the  
cool morning air1 the cheerful song of  
the early birds1 the dewy freshness of  

the turf1 were all unnoticed and unfelt3
 the sense of danger was paramount1     
while her faculties were all alive and  
awake to meet it1 for a feverish and    
unnatural strength seemed to animate her
 limbs4 ,she stepped on1 shortly        
debating with herself whether to follow 
the directions given by the old woman4  
,the high-road appeared the safest2 on  
the other hand1 she was aware that the  
slightest betrayal of mistrust would    
perhaps be followed by her destruction2 
and thus rendered brave even by the     
excess of her fears1 she determined to  
take the cross path4 ,just as she had   
come to this resolution1 she reached the
 gate which she had been directed to    
pass through2 and without the slightest 
apparent hesitation1 she turned in1 and 
pursued the lonely way through the      
fields4 ,often did she fancy she heard  
footsteps stealthily following her1 and 
never approached a hedge without        
expecting to see the murderers start up 
from behind it2 yet she never once      

turned her head1 nor quickened nor      
slackened her pace2    ,like one that on
 a lonesome road     ,doth walk in fear 
and dread1   ,because he knows a        
frightful fiend     ,doth close behind  
him tread4   ,she had proceeded in this 
manner about three-quarters of a mile1  
and approached a thick and dark grove of
 underwood1 when she beheld seated upon 
the opposite stile an old woman in a red
 cloak4 ,the sight of a human being made
 her heart throb more quickly for a     
moment2 but on approaching nearer1 with 
all her faculties sharpened by the sense
 of danger1 she perceived that it was no
 old woman1 but the younger ,hogan1 the 
murderer of ,halloran1 who was thus     
disguised4 ,his face was partly         
concealed by a blue handkerchief tied   
round his head and under his chin1 but  
she knew him by the peculiar and hideous
 expression of his eyes3 yet with       
amazing and almost incredible           
self-possession1 she continued to       
advance without manifesting the least   

alarm1 or sign of recognition2 and      
walking up to the pretended old woman1  
said in a clear voice1 ,the blessing of 
the morning on ye1 good mother6 a fine  
day for travellers like you and me6  ,a 
fine day1 he replied1 coughing and      
mumbling in a feigned voice1 but ye see1
 hugh1 ugh6 ye see ,i've walked this    
morning from the ,cove of ,cork1 jewel1 
and troth ,i'm almost spent1 and ,i've a
 bad cowld1 and a cough on me1 as ye may
 hear1 and he coughed vehemently4       
,cathleen made a motion to pass the     
stile1 but the disguised old woman      
stretching out a great bony hand1 seized
 her gown4 ,still ,cathleen did not     
quail4 ,musha1 then1 have ye nothing to 
give a poor ould woman8 said the        
monster1 in a whining1 snuffling tone4  
,nothing have ,i in this wide world1    
said ,cathleen1 quietly disengaging her 
gown1 but without moving4 ,sure it's    
only yesterday ,i was robbed of all ,i  
had but the little clothes on my back1  
and if ,i hadn't met with charity from  

others1 ,i had starved by the way-side  
by this time4  ,och6 and is there no    
place hereby where they would give a    
potatoe and a cup of cowld water to a   
poor old woman ready to drop on her     
road8  ,cathleen instantly pointed      
forward to the house she had just left1 
and recommended her to apply there4     
,sure they're good1 honest people1      
though poor enough1 ,god help them1 she 
continued1 and ,i wish ye1 mother1 no   
worse luck than myself had1 and that's a
 good friend to treat you to a          
supper--aye1 and a breakfast too2 there 
it is1 ye may just see the light smoke  
rising like a thread over the hill1 just
 fornent ye2 and so ,god speed ye6      
,cathleen turned to descend the stile as
 she spoke1 expecting to be again seized
 with a strong and murderous grasp2 but 
her enemy1 secure in his disguise1 and  
never doubting her perfect              
unconsciousness1 suffered her to pass   
unmolested4  ,another half-mile brought 
her to the top of a rising ground1      

within sight of the high-road2 she could
 see crowds of people on horseback and  
on foot1 with cars and carriages passing
 along in one direction2 for it was1    
though ,cathleen did not then know it1  
the first day of the ,cork ,assizes4 ,as
 she gazed1 she wished for the wings of 
a bird that she might in a moment flee  
over the space which intervened between 
her and safety2 for though she could    
clearly see the high-road from the hill 
on which she stood1 a valley of broken  
ground at its foot1 and two wide fields 
still separated her from it2 but with   
the same unfailing spirit1 and at the   
same steady pace1 she proceeded onwards3
 and now she had reached the middle of  
the last field1 and a thrill of new-born
 hope was beginning to flutter at her   
heart1 when suddenly two men burst      
through the fence at the farther side of
 the field1 and advanced towards her4   
,one of these she thought at the first  
glance resembled her husband1 but that  
it was her husband himself was an idea  

which never entered her mind4 ,her      
imagination was possessed with the one  
supreme idea of danger and death by     
murderous hands2 she doubted not that   
these were the two ,hogans in some new  
disguise1 and silently recommending     
herself to ,god1 she steeled her heart  
to meet this fresh trial of her         
fortitude2 aware1 that however it might 
end1 it must be the last4 ,at this      
moment one of the men throwing up his   
arms1 ran forward1 shouting her name1 in
 a voice--a dear and well-known voice1  
in which she could not be deceived3--it 
was her husband6  ,the poor woman1 who  
had hitherto supported her spirits and  
her self-possession1 stood as if rooted 
to the ground1 weak1 motionless1 and    
gasping for breath4 ,a cold dew burst   
from every pore2 her ears tingled1 her  
heart fluttered as though it would burst
 from her bosom4 ,when she attempted to 
call out1 and raise her hand in token of
 recognition1 the sounds died away1     
rattling in her throat2 her arm dropped 

powerless at her side2 and when her     
husband came up1 and she made a last    
effort to spring towards him1 she sank  
down at his feet in strong convulsions4 
,reilly1 much shocked at what he        
supposed the effect of sudden surprise1 
knelt down and chafed his wife's        
temples2 his comrade ran to a           
neighbouring spring for water1 which    
they sprinkled plentifully over her3    
when1 however1 she returned to life1 her
 intellects appeared to have fled for   
ever1 and she uttered such wild shrieks 
and exclamations1 and talked so         
incoherently1 that the men became       
exceedingly terrified1 and poor ,reilly 
himself almost as distracted as his     
wife4 ,after vainly attempting to soothe
 and recover her1 they at length        
forcibly carried her down to the inn at 
,balgowna1 a hamlet about a mile farther
 on1 where she remained for several     
hours in a state of delirium1 one fit   
succeeding another with little          
intermission4  ,towards evening she     

became more composed1 and was able to   
give some account of the horrible events
 of the preceding night4 ,it happened1  
opportunely1 that a gentleman of fortune
 in the neighbourhood1 and a magistrate1
 was riding by late that evening on his 
return from the ,assizes at ,cork1 and  
stopped at the inn to refresh his horse4
 ,hearing that something unusual and    
frightful had occurred1 he alighted1 and
 examined the woman himself1 in the     
presence of one or two persons4 ,her    
tale appeared to him so strange and wild
 from the manner in which she told it1  
and her account of her own courage and  
sufferings so exceedingly incredible1   
that he was at first inclined to        
disbelieve the whole1 and suspected the 
poor woman either of imposture or       
insanity4 ,he did not1 however1 think   
proper totally to neglect her testimony1
 but immediately sent off information of
 the murder to ,cork4 ,constables with a
 warrant were despatched the same night 
to the house of the ,hogans1 which they 

found empty1 and the inmates already    
fled3 but after a long search1 the body 
of the wretched ,halloran1 and part of  
his property1 were found concealed in a 
stack of old chimneys among the ruins2  
and this proof of guilt was decisive4   
,the country was instantly up2 the most 
active search after the murderers was   
made by the police1 assisted by all the 
neighbouring peasantry2 and before      
twelve o'clock the following night1 the 
three ,hogans1 father1 mother1 and son1 
had been apprehended in different places
 of concealment1 and placed in safe     
custody4 ,meantime the ,coroner's       
inquest having sat on the body1 brought 
in a verdict of wilful murder4  ,as the 
judges were then at ,cork1 the trial    
came on immediately2 and from its       
extraordinary circumstances1 excited the
 most intense and general interest4     
,among the property of poor ,halloran   
discovered in the house1 were a pair of 
shoes and a cap which ,cathleen at once 
identified as belonging to herself1 and 

,reilly's silver watch was found on the 
younger ,hogan4 ,when questioned how    
they came into his possession1 he       
sullenly refused to answer4 ,his mother 
eagerly1 and as if to shield her son1   
confessed that she was the person who   
had robbed ,cathleen in the former part 
of the day1 that she had gone out on the
 ,carrick road to beg1 having been left 
by her husband and son for two days     
without the means of support2 and       
finding ,cathleen asleep1 she had taken 
away the bundle1 supposing it to contain
 food2 and did not recognize her as the 
same person she had robbed1 till        
,cathleen offered her part of her       
supper4  ,the surgeon1 who had been     
called to examine the body of ,halloran1
 deposed to the cause of his            
death2--that the old man had been first 
stunned by a heavy blow on the temple1  
and then strangled4 ,other witnesses    
deposed to the finding of the body3 the 
previous character of the ,hogans1 and  
the circumstances attending their       

apprehension2 but the principal witness 
was ,cathleen4 ,she appeared1 leaning on
 her husband1 her face was ashy pale1   
and her limbs too weak for support2 yet 
she1 however1 was perfectly collected1  
and gave her testimony with that        
precision1 simplicity1 and modesty1     
peculiar to her character4 ,when she had
 occasion to allude to her own feelings1
 it was with such natural and heart-felt
 eloquence that the whole court was     
affected2 and when she described her    
rencontre at the stile1 there was a     
general pressure and a breathless       
suspense3 and then a loud murmur of     
astonishment and admiration fully       
participated by even the bench of       
magistrates4 ,the evidence was clear and
 conclusive2 and the jury1 without      
retiring1 gave their verdict1           
guilty--,death4  ,when the miserable    
wretches were asked1 in the usual forms1
 if they had any thing to say why the   
awful sentence should not be passed upon
 them1 the old man replied by a look of 

idiotic vacancy1 and was mute--the      
younger ,hogan answered sullenly1       
,nothing3 the old woman1 staring wildly 
on her son1 tried to speak2 her lips    
moved1 but without a sound--and she fell
 forward on the bar in strong fits4  ,at
 this moment ,cathleen rushed from the  
arms of her husband1 and throwing       
herself on her knees1 with clasped      
hands1 and cheeks streaming with tears1 
begged for mercy for the old woman4     
,mercy1 my lord judge6 she exclaimed4   
,gentlemen1 your honours1 have mercy on 
her4 ,she had mercy on me6 ,she only did
 their bidding4 ,as for the bundle1 and 
all in it1 ,i give it to her with all my
 soul1 so it's no robbery4 ,the grip of 
hunger's hard to bear2 and if she hadn't
 taken it then1 where would ,i have been
 now8 ,sure they would have killed me   
for the sake of the watch1 and ,i would 
have been a corpse before your honours  
this moment4 ,o mercy6 mercy for her6 or
 never will ,i sleep asy on this side of
 the grave6   ,the judge1 though much   

affected1 was obliged to have her       
forcibly carried from the court1 and    
justice took its awful course4 ,sentence
 of death was pronounced on all the     
prisoners2 but the woman was reprieved1 
and afterwards transported4 ,the two men
 were executed within forty-eight hours 
after their conviction1 on the ,gallows 
,green4 ,they made no public confession 
of their guilt1 and met their fate with 
sullen indifference4 ,the awful ceremony
 was for a moment interrupted by an     
incident which afterwards furnished     
ample matter for wonder and speculation 
among the superstitious populace4 ,it   
was well known that the younger ,hogan  
had been long employed on the estate of 
a nobleman in the neighbourhood2 but    
having been concerned in the abduction  
of a young female1 under circumstances  
of peculiar atrocity1 which for want of 
legal evidence could not be brought home
 to him1 he was dismissed2 and1 finding 
himself an object of general execration1
 he had since been skulking about the   

country1 associating with housebreakers 
and other lawless and abandoned         
characters4 ,at the moment the hangman  
was adjusting the rope round his neck1 a
 shrill voice screamed from the midst of
 the crowd1 ,barny ,hogan6 do ye mind   
,grace ,power1 and the last words ever  
she spoke to ye8 ,there was a general   
movement and confusion2 no one could or 
would tell whence the voice proceeded4  
,the wretched man was seen to change    
countenance for the first time1 and     
raising himself on tiptoe1 gazed wildly 
round upon the multitude3 but he said   
nothing2 and in a few minutes he was no 
more4  ,the reader may wish to know what
 has become of ,cathleen1 our heroine1  
in the true sense of the word4 ,her     
story1 her sufferings1 her extraordinary
 fortitude1 and pure simplicity of      
character1 made her an object of general
 curiosity and interest3 a subscription 
was raised for her1 which soon amounted 
to a liberal sum2 they were enabled to  
procure ,reilly's discharge from the    

army1 and with a part of the money1     
,cathleen1 who1 among her other         
perfections1 was exceedingly pious after
 the fashion of her creed and country1  
founded yearly masses for the soul of   
the poor pedlar2 and vowed herself to   
make a pilgrimage of thanksgiving to    
,st4 ,gobnate's well4 ,mr4 ,l41 the     
magistrate who had first examined her in
 the little inn at ,balgowna1 made her a
 munificent present2 and anxious1       
perhaps1 to offer yet farther amends for
 his former doubts of her veracity1 he  
invited ,reilly1 on very advantageous   
terms1 to settle on his estate1 where he
 rented a neat cabin1 and a handsome    
plot of potatoe ground4 ,there ,reilly  
and his ,cathleen were living ten years 
ago1 with an increasing family1 and in  
the enjoyment of much humble happiness2 
and there1 for aught ,i know to the     
contrary1 they may be living at this    
day4     ,,the ,,indian ,,mother4#bg    
,there is a comfort in the strength of  
love1   ,making that pang endurable1    

which else   ,would overset the         
brain--or break the heart4              
,wordsworth4   ,the monuments which     
human art has raised to human pride or  
power may decay with that power1 or     
survive to mock that pride2 but sooner  
or later they perish--their place knows 
them not4 ,in the aspect of a ruin1     
however imposing in itself1 and however 
magnificent or dear the associations    
connected with it1 there is always      
something sad and humiliating1 reminding
 us how poor and how frail are the works
 of man1 how unstable his hopes1 and how
 limited his capacity compared to his   
aspirations6 ,but when man has made to  
himself monuments of the works of ,god2 
when the memory of human affections1    
human intellect1 human power1 is blended
 with the immutable features of nature1 
they consecrate each other1 and both    
endure together to the end4 ,in a state 
of high civilization1 man trusts to the 
record of brick and marble--the pyramid1
 the column1 the temple1 the tomb3      

,then the bust   ,and altar rise--then  
sink again to dust4   ,in the earlier   
stages of society1 the isolated         
rock--the mountain1 cloud-encircled--the
 river1 rolling to its ocean-home--the  
very stars themselves--were endued with 
sympathies1 and constituted the first1  
as they will be the last1 witnesses and 
records of our human destinies and      
feelings4 ,the glories of the ,parthenon
 shall fade into oblivion2 but while the
 heights of ,thermopylae stand1 and     
while a wave murmurs in the gulph of    
,salamis1 a voice shall cry aloud to the
 universe--,freedom and glory to those  
who can dare to die6--woe and           
everlasting infamy to him who would     
enthral the unconquerable spirit6 ,the  
,coliseum with its sanguinary trophies  
is crumbling to decay2 but the islet of 
,nisida1 where ,brutus parted with his  
,portia--the steep of ,leucadia1 still  
remain fixed as the foundations of the  
earth2 and lasting as the round world   
itself shall be the memories that hover 

over them6 ,as long as the waters of the
 ,hellespont flow between ,sestos and   
,abydos1 the fame of the love that      
perished there shall never pass away4 ,a
 traveller1 pursuing his weary way      
through the midst of an ,african        
desert--a barren1 desolate1 and almost  
boundless solitude--found a gigantic    
sculptured head1 shattered and          
half-buried in the sand2 and near it the
 fragment of a pedestal1 on which these 
words might be with pain deciphered3 ,i 
am ,ozymandias1 ,king of kings2 look    
upon my works1 ye mighty ones1 and      
despair6 ,who was ,ozymandias8--where   
are now his works8--what bond of thought
 or feeling1 links his past with our    
present8 ,the ,arab1 with his beasts of 
burthen1 tramples unheeding over these  
forlorn vestiges of human art and human 
grandeur4 ,in the wildest part of the   
,new ,continent1 hidden amid the depths 
of interminable forests1 there stands a 
huge rock1 hallowed by a tradition so   
recent that the man is not yet          

grey-headed who was born its            
contemporary2 but that rock1 and the    
tale which consecrates it1 shall carry  
down to future ages a deep lesson--a    
moral interest lasting as               
itself--however the aspect of things and
 the conditions of people change around 
it4 ,henceforth no man shall gaze on it 
with careless eye2 but each shall       
whisper to his own bosom--,what is      
stronger than love in a mother's        
heart8--what more fearful than power    
wielded by ignorance8--or what more     
lamentable than the abuse of a          
beneficent name to purposes of selfish  
cruelty8  ,those vast regions which     
occupy the central part of ,south       
,america1 stretching from ,guinea to the
 foot of the ,andes1 overspread with    
gigantic and primeval forests1 and      
watered by mighty rivers--those solitary
 wilds where man appears unessential in 
the scale of creation1 and the traces of
 his power are few and far between--have
 lately occupied much of the attention  

of ,europeans2 partly from the          
extraordinary events and unexpected     
revolutions which have convulsed the    
nations round them2 and partly from the 
researches of enterprising travellers   
who have penetrated into their remotest 
districts4 ,but till within the last    
twenty years these wild regions have    
been unknown1 except through the means  
of the ,spanish and ,portuguese priests1
 settled as missionaries along the banks
 of the ,orinoco and the ,paraguay4 ,the
 men thus devoted to utter banishment   
from all intercourse with civilized     
life1 are generally ,franciscan or      
,capuchin friars1 born in the ,spanish  
,colonies4 ,their pious duties are      
sometimes voluntary1 and sometimes      
imposed by the superiors of their order2
 in either case their destiny appears at
 first view deplorable1 and their       
self-sacrifice sublime2 yet1 when we    
recollect that these poor monks         
generally exchanged the monotonous      
solitude of the cloister for the        

magnificent loneliness of the boundless 
woods and far-spreading savannahs1 the  
sacrifice appears less terrible2 even   
where accompanied by suffering1         
privation1 and occasionally by danger4  
,when these men combine with their      
religious zeal some degree of           
understanding and enlightened           
benevolence1 they have been enabled to  
enlarge the sphere of knowledge and     
civilization1 by exploring the          
productions and geography of these      
unknown regions2 and by collecting into 
villages and humanizing the manners of  
the native tribes1 who seem strangely to
 unite the fiercest and most abhorred   
traits of savage life1 with some of the 
gentlest instincts of our common nature4
 ,but when it has happened that these   
priests have been men of narrow minds   
and tyrannical tempers1 they have on    
some occasions fearfully abused the     
authority entrusted to them2 and being  
removed many thousand miles from the    
,european settlements and the restraint 

of the laws1 the power they have        
exercised has been as far beyond control
 as the calamities they have caused have
 been beyond all remedy and all relief4 
,unfortunately for those who were       
trusted to his charge1 ,father ,gomez   
was a missionary of this character4 ,he 
was a ,franciscan friar of the order of 
,observance1 and he dwelt in the village
 of ,san ,fernando1 near the source of  
the ,orinoco1 whence his authority      
extended as president over several      
missions in the neighbourhood of which  
,san ,fernando was the capital4 ,the    
temper of this man was naturally cruel  
and despotic2 he was wholly uneducated1 
and had no idea1 no feeling1 of the true
 spirit of christian benevolence3 in    
this respect1 the savages whom he had   
been sent to instruct and civilize were 
in reality less savage and less ignorant
 than himself4  ,among the passions and 
vices which ,father ,gomez had brought  
from his cell in the convent of         
,angostara1 to spread contamination and 

oppression through his new domain1 were 
pride and avarice2 and both were        
interested in increasing the number of  
his converts1 or rather1 of his slaves4 
,in spite of the wise and humane law of 
,charles the ,third1 prohibiting the    
conversion of the ,indian natives by    
force1 ,gomez1 like others of his       
brethren in the more distant missions1  
often accomplished his purpose by direct
 violence4 ,he was accustomed to go1    
with a party of his people1 and lie in  
wait near the hordes of unreclaimed     
,indians3 when the men were absent he   
would forcibly seize on the women and   
children1 bind them1 and bring them off 
in triumph to his village4 ,there1 being
 baptized and taught to make the sign of
 the cross1 they were called            
,christians1 but in reality were slaves4
 ,in general1 the women thus detained   
pined away and died2 but the children   
became accustomed to their new mode of  
life1 forgot their woods1 and paid to   
their ,christian master a willing and   

blind obedience2 thus in time they      
became the oppressors of their own      
people4  ,father ,gomez called these    
incursions1 la conquista espiritual--the
 conquest of souls4  ,one day he set off
 on an expedition of this nature1       
attended by twelve armed ,indians2 and  
after rowing some leagues up the river  
,guaviare1 which flows into the         
,orinoco1 they perceived1 through an    
opening in the trees1 and at a little   
distance from the shore1 an ,indian hut4
 ,it is the custom of these people to   
live isolated in families2 and so strong
 is their passion for solitude1 that    
when collected into villages they       
frequently build themselves a little    
cabin at a distance from their usual    
residence1 and retire to it1 at certain 
seasons1 for days together4 ,the cabin  
of which ,i speak was one of these      
solitary villas--if ,i may so apply the 
word4 ,it was constructed with peculiar 
neatness1 thatched with palm leaves1 and
 overshadowed with cocoa trees and      

laurels2 it stood alone in the          
wilderness1 embowered in luxuriant      
vegetation1 and looked like the chosen  
abode of simple and quiet happiness4    
,within this hut a young ,indian woman  
7whom ,i shall call ,guahiba1 from the  
name of her tribe7 was busied in making 
cakes of the cassava root1 and preparing
 the family meal1 against the return of 
her husband1 who was fishing at some    
distance up the river2 her eldest child1
 about five or six years old1 assisted  
her2 and from time to time1 while thus  
employed1 the mother turned her eyes1   
beaming with fond affection1 upon the   
playful gambols of two little infants1  
who1 being just able to crawl alone1    
were rolling together on the ground1    
laughing and crowing with all their     
might4  ,their food being nearly        
prepared1 the ,indian woman looked      
towards the river1 impatient for the    
return of her husband4 ,but her bright  
dark eyes1 swimming with eagerness and  
affectionate solicitude1 became fixed   

and glazed with terror when1 instead of 
him she so fondly expected1 she beheld  
the attendants of ,father ,gomez1       
creeping stealthily along the side of   
the thicket towards her cabin4          
,instantly aware of her danger 7for the 
nature and object of these incursions   
were the dread of all the country round7
 she uttered a piercing shriek1 snatched
 up her infants in her arms1 and1       
calling on the other to follow1 rushed  
from the hut towards the forest4 ,as she
 had considerably the start of her      
pursuers1 she would probably have       
escaped1 and have hidden herself        
effectually in its tangled depths1 if   
her precious burthen had not impeded her
 flight2 but thus encumbered she was    
easily overtaken4 ,her eldest child1    
fleet of foot and wily as the young     
jaguar1 escaped to carry to the wretched
 father the news of his bereavement1 and
 neither father nor child were ever more
 beheld in their former haunts4         
,meantime1 the ,indians seized upon     

,guahiba--bound her1 tied her two       
children together1 and dragged her down 
to the river1 where ,father ,gomez was  
sitting in his canoe1 waiting the issue 
of the expedition4 ,at the sight of the 
captives his eyes sparkled with a cruel 
triumph2 he thanked his patron saint    
that three more souls were added to his 
community2 and then1 heedless of the    
tears of the mother1 and the cries of   
her children1 he commanded his followers
 to row back with all speed to ,san     
,fernando4  ,there ,guahiba and her     
infants were placed in a hut under the  
guard of two ,indians2 some food was    
given to her1 which she at first        
refused1 but afterwards1 as if on       
reflection1 accepted4 ,a young ,indian  
girl was then sent to her--a captive    
convert of her own tribe1 who had not   
yet quite forgotten her native language4
 ,she tried to make ,guahiba comprehend 
that in this village she and her        
children must remain during the rest of 
their lives1 in order that they might go

 to heaven after they were dead4        
,guahiba listened1 but understood       
nothing of what was addressed to her2   
nor could she be made to conceive for   
what purpose she was torn from her      
husband and her home1 nor why she was to
 dwell for the remainder of her life    
among a strange people1 and against her 
will4 ,during that night she remained   
tranquil1 watching over her infants as  
they slumbered by her side2 but the     
moment the dawn appeared she took them  
in her arms and ran off to the woods4   
,she was immediately brought back2 but  
no sooner were the eyes of her keepers  
turned from her than she snatched up her
 children1 and again fled2--again--and  
again6 ,at every new attempt she was    
punished with more and more severity2   
she was kept from food1 and at length   
repeatedly and cruelly beaten4 ,in      
vain6--apparently she did not even      
understand why she was thus treated2 and
 one instinctive idea alone1 the desire 
of escape1 seemed to possess her mind   

and govern all her movements4 ,if her   
oppressors only turned from her1 or     
looked another way1 for an instant1 she 
invariably caught up her children and   
ran off towards the forest4 ,father     
,gomez was at length wearied by what he 
termed her blind obstinacy2 and1 as the 
only means of securing all three1 he    
took measures to separate the mother    
from her children1 and resolved to      
convey ,guahiba to a distant mission1   
whence she should never find her way    
back either to them or to her home4  ,in
 pursuance of this plan1 poor ,guahiba1 
with her hands tied behind her1 was     
placed in the bow of a canoe4 ,father   
,gomez seated himself at the helm1 and  
they rowed away4  ,the few travellers   
who have visited these regions agree in 
describing a phenomenon1 the cause of   
which is still a mystery to geologists1 
and which imparts to the lonely depths  
of these unappropriated and unviolated  
shades an effect intensely and          
indescribably mournful4 ,the granite    

rocks which border the river1 and extend
 far into the contiguous woods1 assume  
strange1 fantastic shapes2 and are      
covered with a black incrustation1 or   
deposit1 which contrasted with the      
snow-white foam of the waves breaking on
 them below1 and the pale lichens which 
spring from their crevices and creep    
along their surface above1 give these   
shores an aspect perfectly funereal4    
,between these melancholy rocks--so high
 and so steep that a landing-place      
seldom occurred for leagues             
together--the canoe of ,father ,gomez   
slowly glided1 though urged against the 
stream by eight robust ,indians4  ,the  
unhappy ,guahiba sat at first perfectly 
unmoved1 and apparently amazed and      
stunned by her situation2 she did not   
comprehend what they were going to do   
with her2 but after a while she looked  
up towards the sun1 then down upon the  
stream2 and perceiving1 by the direction
 of the one and the course of the other1
 that every stroke of the oar carried   

her farther and farther from her beloved
 and helpless children1 her husband1 and
 her native home1 her countenance was   
seen to change and assume a fearful     
expression4 ,as the possibility of      
escape1 in her present situation1 had   
never once occurred to her captors1 she 
had been very slightly and carelessly   
bound4 ,she watched her opportunity1    
burst the withes on her arms1 with a    
sudden effort flung herself overboard1  
and dived under the waves2 but in       
another moment she rose again at a      
considerable distance1 and swam to the  
shore4 ,the current1 being rapid and    
strong1 carried her down to the base of 
a dark granite rock which projected into
 the stream2 she climbed it with        
fearless agility1 stood for an instant  
on its summit1 looking down upon her    
tyrants1 then plunged into the forest1  
and was lost to sight4  ,father ,gomez1 
beholding his victim thus unexpectedly  
escape him1 sat mute and thunderstruck  
for some moments1 unable to give        

utterance to the extremity of his rage  
and astonishment4 ,when1 at length1 he  
found voice1 he commanded his ,indians  
to pull with all their might to the     
shore2 then to pursue the poor fugitive1
 and bring her back to him1 dead or     
alive4  ,guahiba1 meantime1 while       
strength remained to break her way      
through the tangled wilderness1         
continued her flight2 but soon exhausted
 and breathless1 with the violence of   
her exertions1 she was obliged to relax 
in her efforts1 and at length sunk down 
at the foot of a huge laurel tree1 where
 she concealed herself1 as well as she  
might1 among the long1 interwoven grass4
 ,there1 crouching and trembling in her 
lair1 she heard the voices of her       
persecutors hallooing to each other     
through the thicket4 ,she would probably
 have escaped but for a large mastiff   
which the ,indians had with them1 and   
which scented her out in her            
hiding-place4 ,the moment she heard the 
dreaded animal snuffing in the air1 and 

tearing his way through the grass1 she  
knew she was lost4 ,the ,indians came   
up4 ,she attempted no vain resistance2  
but1 with a sullen passiveness1 suffered
 herself to be seized and dragged to the
 shore4  ,when the merciless priest     
beheld her1 he determined to inflict on 
her such discipline as he thought would 
banish her children from her memory1 and
 cure her for ever of her passion for   
escaping4 ,he ordered her to be         
stretched upon that granite rock where  
she had landed from the canoe1 on the   
summit of which she had stood1 as if    
exulting in her flight1--,,the ,,rock   
,,of ,,the ,,mother1 as it has ever     
since been denominated--and there       
flogged till she could scarcely move or 
speak4 ,she was then bound more         
securely1 placed in the canoe1 and      
carried to ,javita1 the seat of a       
mission far up the river4  ,it was near 
sunset when they arrived at this        
village1 and the inhabitants were       
preparing to go to rest4 ,guahiba was   

deposited for the night in a large      
barn-like building1 which served as a   
place of worship1 a public magazine1    
and1 occasionally1 as a barrack4 ,father
 ,gomez ordered two or three ,indians of
 ,javita to keep guard over her         
alternately1 relieving each other       
through the night2 and then went to     
repose himself after the fatigues of his
 voyage4 ,as the wretched captive       
neither resisted nor complained1 ,father
 ,gomez flattered himself that she was  
now reduced to submission4 ,little could
 he fathom the bosom of this fond       
mother6 ,he mistook for stupor1 or      
resignation1 the calmness of a fixed    
resolve4 ,in absence1 in bonds1 and in  
torture1 her heart throbbed with but one
 feeling2 one thought alone possessed   
her whole soul3--her children--her      
children--and still her children6       
,among the ,indians appointed to watch  
her was a youth1 about eighteen or      
nineteen years of age1 who1 perceiving  
that her arms were miserably bruised by 

the stripes she had received1 and that  
she suffered the most acute agony from  
the savage tightness with which the     
cords were drawn1 let fall an           
exclamation of pity in the language of  
her tribe4 ,quick she seized the moment 
of feeling1 and addressed him as one of 
her people4  ,guahibo1 she said1 in a   
whispered tone1 thou speakest my        
language1 and doubtless thou art my     
brother6 ,wilt thou see me perish       
without pity1 ,o son of my people8 ,ah1 
cut these bonds which enter into my     
flesh6 ,i faint with pain6 ,i die6  ,the
 young man heard1 and1 as if terrified1 
removed a few paces from her and kept   
silence4 ,afterwards1 when his          
companions were out of sight1 and he was
 left alone to watch1 he approached1 and
 said1 ,guahiba6--our fathers were the  
same1 and ,i may not see thee die2 but  
if ,i cut these bonds1 white man will   
flog me3--wilt thou be content if ,i    
loosen them1 and give thee ease8 ,and as
 he spoke1 he stooped and loosened the  

thongs on her wrists and arms2 she      
smiled upon him languidly1 and appeared 
satisfied4  ,night was now coming on4   
,guahiba dropped her head on her bosom1 
and closed her eyes1 as if exhausted by 
weariness4 ,the young ,indian1 believing
 that she slept1 after some hesitation  
laid himself down on his mat4 ,his      
companions were already slumbering in   
the porch of the building1 and all was  
still4  ,then ,guahiba raised her head4 
,it was night--dark night--without moon 
or star4 ,there was no sound1 except the
 breathing of the sleepers around her1  
and the humming of the mosquitoes4 ,she 
listened for some time with her whole   
soul2 but all was silence4 ,she then    
gnawed the loosened thongs asunder with 
her teeth4 ,her hands once free1 she    
released her feet2 and when the morning 
came she had disappeared4 ,search was   
made for her in every direction1 but in 
vain2 and ,father ,gomez1 baffled and   
wrathful1 returned to his village4  ,the
 distance between ,javita and ,san      

,fernando1 where ,guahiba had left her  
infants1 is twenty-five leagues in a    
straight line4 ,a fearful wilderness of 
gigantic forest trees1 and intermingling
 underwood1 separated these two         
missions2--a savage and awful solitude1 
which1 probably1 since the beginning of 
the world1 had never been trodden by    
human foot4 ,all communication was      
carried on by the river2 and there lived
 not a man1 whether ,indian or          
,european1 bold enough to have attempted
 the route along the shore4 ,it was the 
commencement of the rainy season4 ,the  
sky1 obscured by clouds1 seldom revealed
 the sun by day2 and neither moon nor   
gleam of twinkling star by night4 ,the  
rivers had overflowed1 and the lowlands 
were inundated4 ,there was no visible   
object to direct the traveller2 no      
shelter1 no defence1 no aid1 no guide4  
,was it ,providence--was it the strong  
instinct of maternal love1 which led    
this courageous woman through the depths
 of the pathless woods--where rivulets1 

swollen to torrents by the rains1       
intercepted her at every step2 where the
 thorny lianas1 twining from tree to    
tree1 opposed an almost impenetrable    
barrier2 where the mosquitoes hung in   
clouds upon her path2 where the jaguar  
and the alligator lurked to devour her2 
where the rattle-snake and the          
water-serpent lay coiled up in the damp 
grass1 ready to spring at her2 where she
 had no food to support her exhausted   
frame1 but a few berries1 and the large 
black ants which build their nests on   
the trees8 ,how directed--how           
sustained--cannot be told3 the poor     
woman herself could not tell4 ,all that 
can be known with any certainty is1 that
 the fourth rising sun beheld her at    
,san ,fernando2 a wild1 and wasted1 and 
fearful object2 her feet swelled and    
bleeding--her hands torn--her body      
covered with wounds1 and emaciated with 
famine and fatigue2--but once more near 
her children6  ,for several hours she   
hovered round the hut in which she had  

left them1 gazing on it from a distance 
with longing eyes and a sick heart1     
without daring to advance3 at length she
 perceived that all the inhabitants had 
quitted their cottages to attend        
vespers2 then she stole from the        
thicket1 and approached1 with faint and 
timid steps1 the spot which contained   
her hearths treasures4 ,she entered1 and
 found her infants left alone1 and      
playing together on a mat3 they screamed
 at her appearance1 so changed was she  
by suffering2 but when she called them  
by name1 they knew her tender voice1 and
 stretched out their little arms towards
 her4 ,in that moment1 the mother forgot
 all she had endured--all her anguish1  
all her fears1 every thing on earth but 
the objects which blessed her eyes4 ,she
 sat down between her children--she took
 them on her knees--she clasped them in 
an agony of fondness to her bosom--she  
covered them with kisses--she shed      
torrents of tears on their little heads1
 as she hugged them to her4 ,suddenly   

she remembered where she was1 and why   
she was there3 new terrors seized her2  
she rose up hastily1 and1 with her      
babies in her arms1 she staggered out of
 the cabin--fainting1 stumbling1 and    
almost blind with loss of blood and     
inanition4 ,she tried to reach the      
woods1 but too feeble to sustain her    
burthen1 which yet she would not        
relinquish1 her limbs trembled1 and sank
 beneath her4 ,at this moment an        
,indian1 who was watching the public    
oven1 perceived her4 ,he gave the alarm 
by ringing a bell1 and the people rushed
 forth1 gathering round ,guahiba with   
fright and astonishment4 ,they gazed    
upon her as if upon an apparition1 till 
her sobs1 and imploring looks1 and      
trembling and wounded limbs1 convinced  
them that she yet lived1 though         
apparently nigh to death4 ,they looked  
upon her in silence1 and then at each   
other2 their savage bosoms were touched 
with commiseration for her sad plight1  
and with admiration1 and even awe1 at   

this unexampled heroism of maternal     
love4  ,while they hesitated1 and none  
seemed willing to seize her1 or to take 
her children from her1 ,father ,gomez1  
who had just landed on his return from  
,javita1 approached in haste1 and       
commanded them to be separated4 ,guahiba
 clasped her children closer to her     
breast1 and the ,indians shrunk back4   
,what6 thundered the monk3 will ye      
suffer this woman to steal two precious 
souls from heaven8--two members from our
 community8 ,see ye not1 that while she 
is suffered to approach them1 there is  
no salvation for either mother or       
children8--part them1 and instantly6    
,the ,indians1 accustomed to his        
ascendancy1 and terrified at his voice1 
tore the children of ,guahiba once more 
from her feeble arms3 she uttered nor   
word nor cry1 but sunk in a swoon upon  
the earth4  ,while in this state1       
,father ,gomez1 with a cruel mercy1     
ordered her wounds to be carefully      
dressed3 her arms and legs were swathed 

with cotton bandages2 she was then      
placed in a canoe1 and conveyed to a    
mission1 far1 far off1 on the river     
,esmeralda1 beyond the ,upper ,orinoco4 
,she continued in a state of exhaustion 
and torpor during the voyage2 but after 
being taken out of the boat and carried 
inland1 restoratives brought her back to
 life1 and to a sense of her situation4 
,when she perceived1 as reason and      
consciousness returned1 that she was in 
a strange place1 unknowing how she was  
brought there--among a tribe who spoke a
 language different from any she had    
ever heard before1 and from whom1       
therefore1 according to ,indian         
prejudices1 she could hope nor aid nor  
pity2--when she recollected that she was
 far from her beloved children2--when   
she saw no means of discovering the     
bearing or the distance of their        
abode--no clue to guide her back to     
it3--then1 and only then1 did the       
mother's heart yield to utter despair2  
and thenceforward refusing to speak or  

to move1 and obstinately rejecting all  
nourishment1 thus she died4  ,the       
boatman1 on the river ,atabapo1 suspends
 his oar with a sigh as he passes the   
,,rock ,,of ,,the ,,mother4 ,he points  
it out to the traveller1 and weeps as he
 relates the tale of her sufferings and 
her fate4 ,ages hence1 when these       
solitary regions have become the seats  
of civilization1 of power1 and          
intelligence2 when the pathless wilds1  
which poor ,guahiba traversed in her    
anguish1 are replaced by populous       
cities1 and smiling gardens1 and        
pastures1 and waving harvests1--still   
that dark rock shall stand1 frowning    
o'er the stream2 tradition and history  
shall preserve its name and fame2 and   
when even the pyramids1 those vast1 vain
 monuments to human pride1 have passed  
away1 it shall endure1 to carry down to 
the end of the world the memory of the  
,indian ,mother4     ,,much ,,coin1     
,,much ,,care4  ,a ,,dramatic ,,proverb4
  ,,written ,,for ,,hyacinthe1 ,,emily1 

,,caroline1 ,,and ,,edward4             
,,characters4       ,,dick1 the         
,cobbler1 a very honest man1 and very   
merry withal1     much given to singing4
      ,,margery1 his wife1 simple and   
affectionate1 and one of the best       
women in the world4      ,,lady         
,,amaranthe1 a fine lady1 full of airs  
and affectation1 but     not without    
good feeling4      ,,mademoiselle       
,,justine1 her ,french maid1 very like  
other ,french maids4   ,the ,,scene lies
 partly in the ,garret of the ,cobbler1 
and partly in ,,lady ,,amaranthe's      
,drawing-room4     ,,much ,,coin1 ,,much
 ,,care4   ,,scene ,i4      ,a ,garret  
meanly furnished2 several pairs of old  
shoes1 a coat1     hat1 bonnet1 and     
shawl hanging against the ,wall4 ,,dick 
is seated     on a low stool in front4  
,he works1 and sings4     ,as she lay on
 that day   ,in the ,bay of ,biscay ,o6 
,now that's what ,i call a good song2   
but my wife1 she can't abear them       
blusteration songs1 she says2 she likes 

something tender and genteel1 full of   
fine words4 7,sings in a mincing voice47
    ,vake1 dearest1 vake1 and again     
united   ,ve'll vander by the           
sea-he-he-e4   ,hang me1 if ,i can      
understand a word of it6 but when my    
wife sings it out with her pretty little
 mouth1 it does one's heart good to hear
 her2 and ,i could listen to her for    
ever3 but1 for my own part1 what ,i like
 is a song that comes thundering out    
with a meaning in it6 7,sings1 and      
flourishes his hammer with enthusiasm1  
beating time upon the shoe47    ,march6 
march6 ,eskdale and ,tiviotdale1   ,all 
the blue bonnets are over the border6   
,,margery--7from within47  ,dick6 ,dick6
 what a noise you do keep6  ,,dick4  ,a 
noise1 eh8 ,why1 ,meg1 you didn't use to
 think it a noise3 you used to like to  
hear me sing6  ,,margery--7entering47   
,and so ,i did1 and so ,i do4 ,i loves  
music with all my heart2 but the whole  
parish will hear you if you go for to   
bawl out so monstrous loud4  ,,dick4    

,and let them6 who cares8               
,he sings1 she laughs4  ,,margery4      
,nay1 sing away if you like it6         
,,dick--7stopping suddenly47  ,i won't  
sing another bit if you don't like it1  
,meg4  ,,margery4  ,oh1 ,i do like6     
,lord bless us6 not like it6 it sounds  
so merry6 ,why1 ,dick1 love1 every body 
said yesterday that you sung as well as 
,mr4 ,thingumee at ,sadler's ,wells1 and
 says they1 ,who is that young man as   
sings like any nightingale8 and ,i says 
7drawing herself up71 ,that's my        
husband6  ,,dick4  ,ay6 flummery6--,but1
 ,meg1 ,i say1 how did you like the     
wedding yesterday8  ,,margery4  ,oh1    
hugeously6 such heaps of smart people1  
as fine as fivepence1 ,i warrant2 and   
such gay gowns and caps6 and plenty to  
eat and drink6--,but what ,i liked best 
was the walking in the gardens at       
,bagnigge ,wells1 and the tea1 and the  
crumpets6  ,,dick4  ,and the punch6     
,,margery4  ,yes--ha6 ha6 ,i could see  
you thought that good6 and then the     

dancing6  ,,dick4  ,ay1 ay2 and there   
wasn't one amongst them that footed it  
away like my ,margery4 ,and folks says  
to me1 ,pray1 who is that pretty modest 
young woman as hops over the ground as  
light as a feather8 says they2 and says 
,i1 ,why1 that there pretty young woman 
is my wife1 to be sure6  ,,margery4     
,ah1 you're at your jokes1 ,dick6       
,,dick4  ,i'll be hanged then6          
,,margery--7leaning on his shoulder47   
,well1 to be sure1 we were happy        
yesterday4 ,it's good to make holiday   
just now and then1 but some how ,i was  
very glad to come home to our own little
 room again4 ,o ,dick6--did you mind    
that ,mrs4 ,pinchtoe1 that gave herself 
such grand airs8--she in the fine       
lavender silk gown--that turned up her  
nose at me so1 and all because she's a  
master shoemaker's wife6 and you are    
only--only--a cobbler6--7sighs7 ,i wish 
you were a master shoemaker1 ,dick4     
,,dick4  ,that you might be a master    
shoemaker's wife1 hay6 and turn up your 

nose like ,mrs4 ,pinchtoe8              
,,margery--7laughing47  ,no1 no2 ,i have
 more manners4  ,,dick4  ,would you love
 me better1 ,meg1 if ,i were a master   
shoemaker8  ,,margery4  ,no1 ,i couldn't
 love you better if you were a king2 and
 that you know1 ,dick2 and1 after all1  
we're happy now1 and who knows what     
might be if he were to change8  ,,dick4 
,ay1 indeed6 who knows8 you might grow  
into a fine lady like she over the way1 
who comes home o'nights just as we're   
getting up in the morning1 with the     
flams flaring1 and blazing like any     
thing2 and that puts me in mind----     
,,margery4  ,of what1 ,dick8 tell me6   
,,dick4  ,why1 cousin ,tom's wedding put
 it all out of my head last night2 but  
yesterday there comes over to me one of 
those fine bedizened fellows we see     
lounging about the door there1 with a   
cocked hat1 and things like stay laces  
dangling at his shoulder4  ,,margery4   
,what could he want1 ,i wonder6  ,,dick4
  ,o6 he comes over to me as ,i was just

 standing at the door below1 a thinking 
of nothing at all1 and singing ,paddy   
,o',raffety to myself1 and says he to   
me1 ,you cobbler fellor1 says he1 don't 
you go for to keep such a bawling every 
morning1 awakening people out of their  
first sleep1 says he1 for if you do1 my 
lord will have you put into the stocks1 
says he4  ,,margery4  ,the stocks6 ,o   
goodness gracious me6 and what for1     
pray8  ,,dick--7with a grin47  ,why1 for
 singing1 honey6 ,so says ,i1 ,hark 'ee1
 ,mr4 ,scrape-trencher1 there go words  
to that bargain3 what right have you to 
go for to speak in that there way to me8
 says ,i2 and says he1 ,we'll have you  
'dited for a nuisance1 fellor1 says he4 
,,margery--7clasping her hands47  ,a    
nuisance6 my ,dick a nuisance6 ,o ,lord 
a' mercy6  ,,dick4  ,never fear1 girl2  
,i'm a free-born ,englishman1 and ,i    
knows the laws well enough3 and says ,i1
 ,no more a fellor than yourself2 ,i'm  
an honest man1 following an honest      
calling1 and ,i don't care that for you 

nor your lord neither2 and ,i'll sing   
when ,i please1 and ,i'll sing what ,i  
please1 and ,i'll sing as loud as ,i    
please2 ,i will1 by jingo6 and so he    
lifts me up his cane1 and ,i says quite 
cool1 ,this house is my castle2 and if  
you don't take yourself out of that in a
 jiffey1 why1 ,i'll give your laced     
jacket such a dusting as it never had   
before in its life--,i will4  ,,margery4
  ,o1 ,dick6 you've a spirit of your    
own1 ,i warrant4 ,well1 and then8       
,,dick4  ,oh1 ,i promise you he was off 
in the twinkling of a bed-post1 and     
,i've heard no more of him2 but ,i was  
determined to wake you this morning with
 a thundering song2 just to show 'em ,i 
didn't care for 'em--ha6 ha6 ha6        
,,margery4  ,oh1 ho6 that was the       
reason1 then1 that you bawled so in my  
ear1 and frightened me out of my        
sleep--was it8 ,oh1 well1 ,i forgive    
you2 but bless me6 ,i stand chattering  
here1 and it's twelve o'clock1 as ,i    
live6 ,i must go to market--7putting on 

her shawl and bonnet47 ,what would you  
like to have for dinner1 ,dick1 love8 a 
nice rasher of bacon1 by way of a       
relish8  ,,dick--7smacking his lips47   
,just the very thing1 honey4  ,,margery4
  ,well1 give me the shilling1 then4    
,,dick--7scratching his head47  ,what   
shilling8  ,,margery4  ,why1 the        
shilling you had yesterday4             
,,dick--7feeling in his pockets47  ,a   
shilling6  ,,margery4  ,yes1 a shilling4
 7,gaily47 ,to have meat1 one must have 
money2 and folks must eat as well as    
sing1 ,dick1 love4 ,come1 out with it6  
,,dick4  ,but suppose ,i haven't got it8
  ,,margery4  ,how6 what6 you don't mean
 for to say that the last shilling that 
you put in your pocket1 just to make a  
show1 is gone8  ,,dick--7with a sigh47  
,but ,i do1 though--it's gone4          
,,margery4  ,what shall we do8  ,,dick4 
,i don't know4 7,a pause4 ,they look at 
each other47 ,stay1 that's lucky4       
,here's a pair of dancing pumps as      
belongs to old ,mrs4 ,crusty1 the       

baker's wife at the corner--            
,,margery--7gaily47  ,we can't eat them 
for dinner1 ,i guess4  ,,dick4  ,no1 no2
 but ,i'm just at the last stitch4      
,,margery4  ,yes--  ,,dick--7speaking   
and working in a hurry47  ,and so you'll
 take them home--  ,,margery4  ,yes--   
,,dick4  ,and tell her ,i must have     
seven-pence halfpenny for them4 7,gives 
them47  ,,margery--7examining the       
shoes47  ,but1 ,dick1 isn't that some'at
 extortionate1 as a body may say8       
seven-pence halfpenny6  ,,dick4  ,why1  
here's heel-pieces1 and a patch upon    
each toe2 one must live1 ,meg6          
,,margery4  ,yes1 ,dick1 love2 but so   
must other folks4 ,now ,i think         
seven-pence would be enough in all      
conscience--what do you say8  ,,dick4   
,well1 settle it as you like2 only get a
 bit of dinner for us1 for ,i'm as      
hungry as a hunter1 ,i know4  ,,margery4
  ,i'm going4 ,good bye1 ,dick6  ,,dick4
  ,take care of theeself--and don't     
spend the change in caps and ribbons1   

,meg4  ,,margery4  ,caps and ribbons out
 of seven-pence6 ,lord help the man6 ha1
 ha1 ha6 7,she goes out47               
,,dick--7calling after her47  ,and come 
back soon1 d'ye hear8 ,there she        
goes--hop1 skip1 and jump1 down the     
stairs4 ,somehow1 ,i can't abear to have
 her out of my sight a minute4 ,well1 if
 ever there was a man could say he had a
 good wife1 why1 that's me myself--tho'f
 ,i say it--the cheerfullest1 sweetest  
temperedst1 cleanliest1 lovingest woman 
in the whole parish1 that never gives   
one an ill word from year's end to      
year's end1 and deserves at least that a
 man should work hard for her--it's all 
,i can do--and we must think for        
to-morrow as well as to-day4 7,he works 
with great energy1 and sings at the same
 time with equal enthusiasm47    ,cannot
 ye do as ,i do8   ,cannot ye do as ,i  
do 8   ,spend your money1 and work for  
more2   ,that's the way that ,i do6     
,tol de rol lol4   ,re-enter ,,margery  
in haste4  ,,marg4--7out of breath47    

,oh1 ,dick1 husband6 ,dick1 ,i say6     
,,dick4  ,hay6 what's the matter now8   
,,margery4  ,here be one of those fine  
powdered laced fellows from over the way
 comed after you again4                 
,,dick--7rising47  ,an impudent         
jackanapes6 ,i'll give him as good as he
 brings4  ,,margery4  ,oh1 no1 no6 he's 
monstrous civil now2 for he chucked me  
under the chin1 and says he1 ,my pretty 
girl6  ,,dick4  ,ho6 monstrous civil    
indeed1 with a vengeance6  ,,margery4   
,and says he1 ,do you belong to this    
here house8 ,yes1 sir1 says ,i1 making a
 curtsy1 for ,i couldn't do no less when
 he spoke so civil2 and says he1 ,is    
there an honest cobbler as lives here8  
,yes1 sir1 says ,i1 my husband that is4 
,then1 my dear1 says he1 just tell him  
to step over the way1 for my ,lady      
,amaranthe wishes to speak to him       
immediately4  ,,dick4  ,a lady8 ,o      
,lord6  ,,margery4  ,yes1 so you must go
 directly4 ,here1 take off your apron1  
and let me comb your hair a bit4        

,,dick4  ,what the mischief can a lady  
want with me8 ,i've nothing to do with  
ladies1 as ,i knows of4  ,,margery4     
,why1 she won't eat you up1 ,i reckon4  
,,dick4  ,and yet ,i--,i--,i be afeard1 
,meg6  ,,margery4  ,afeard of a lady6   
that's a good one6  ,,dick4  ,ay1       
just--if it were a man1 ,i shouldn't    
care a fig4  ,,margery4  ,but we've     
never done no harm to nobody in our     
whole lives1 so what is there to be     
afraid of8  ,,dick4  ,nay1 that's true4 
,,margery4  ,now let me help you on with
 your best coat4 ,pooh6 what is the man 
about8--,why1 you're putting the back to
 the front1 and the front to the back1  
like ,paddy from ,cork1 with his coat   
buttoned behind6  ,,dick4  ,my head do  
turn round1 just for all the world like 
a peg-top4--,a lady6 what can a lady    
have to say to me1 ,i wonder8           
,,margery4  ,may be1 she's a customer4  
,,dick4  ,no1 no1 great gentlefolks like
 she never wears patched toes nor       
heel-pieces1 ,i reckon4  ,,margery4     

,here's your hat4 ,now let me see how   
you can make a bow4 7,he bows           
awkwardly47 ,hold up your head--turn out
 your toes4 ,that will do capital6 7,she
 walks round him with admiration47 ,how 
nice you look6 there's ne'er a gentleman
 of them all can come up to my ,dick4   
,,dick--7hesitating47  ,but--a--a--,meg1
 you'll come with me1 won't you1 and    
just see me safe in at the door1 eh8    
,,margery4  ,yes1 to be sure2 walk on   
before1 and let me look at you4 ,hold up
 your head--there1 that's it6           
,,dick--7marching47  ,come along4 ,hang 
it1 who's afraid8                       
,they go out4       ,scene changes to a 
,drawing-room in the ,house of ,,lady   
,,amaranthe4  ,enter ,lady ,amaranthe1  
leaning upon her maid1 ,,mademoiselle   
,,justine4  ,,lady ,,amaranthe4         
,avancez un fauteuil1 ma chere6 arrangez
 les coussins4 7,,justine settles the   
chair1 and places a footstool4 ,,lady   
,,amaranthe1 sinking into the arm-chair 
with a languid air47 ,justine1 ,i shall 

die1 ,i shall certainly die6 ,i never   
can survive this6  ,,justine4  ,mon     
,dieu6 madame1 ne parlez pas comme ca6  
c'est m'enfoncer un poignard dans le    
coeur6  ,,lady                          
,,amaranthe--7despairingly47  ,no       
rest--no possibility of sleeping--      
,,justine4  ,et le medecin de madame1   
qui a ordonne la plus grande            
tranquillite--qui a meme voulu que je me
 taisais--moi1 par exemple6  ,,lady     
,,amaranthe4  ,after fatiguing myself to
 death with playing the agreeable to    
disagreeable people1 and talking        
common-place to common-place            
acquaintance1 ,i return home1 to lay my 
aching head upon my pillow1 and just as 
my eyes are closing1 ,i start--,i       
wake1--a voice that would rouse the dead
 out of their graves echoes in my ears6 
,in vain ,i bury my head in the         
pillow--in vain draw the curtains       
close--multiply defences against my     
window--change from room to room--it    
haunts me6 ,ah6 ,i think ,i hear it     

still6 7covering her ears7 it will      
certainly drive me distracted6  ,during 
this speech1 ,,justine has made sundry  
exclamations and gestures expressive of 
horror1 sympathy1 and commiseration4    
,,justine4  ,vraiment1 c'est affreux4   
,,lady ,,amaranthe4  ,in any more       
civilized country it never could have   
been endured--,i should have had him    
removed at once2 but here the vulgar    
people talk of laws6  ,,justine4  ,ah1  
oui1 madame1 mais il faut avouer que    
c'est ici un pays bien barbare1 ou tout 
le monde parle loi et metaphysique1 et  
ou l'on ne fait point de difference     
entre les riches et les pauvres4  ,,lady
 ,,amaranthe4  ,but what provokes me    
more than all the rest is this          
unheard-of insolence6 7rises and walks  
about the room17--a cobbler too--a      
cobbler who presumes to sing1 and to    
sing when all the rest of the world is  
asleep6 ,this is the march of intellect 
with a vengeance6  ,,justine4  ,c'est   
vrai1 il ne chante que des marches et de

 gros chansons a boire--s'il chantait   
bien doucement quelque joli roman par   
exemple--7,she sings7--dormez1 dormez1  
mes chers amours6  ,,lady ,,amaranthe4  
,justine1 did you send the butler over  
to request civilly that he would not    
disturb me in the morning8  ,,justine4  
,oui1 miladi1 dat is1 ,i have send      
,john2 de butler he was went out4       
,,lady ,,amaranthe4  ,and his answer    
was1 that he would sing in spite of me1 
and louder than ever8  ,,justine4  ,oui1
 miladi1 le monstre6 il dit comme ca1   
dat he will sing more louder den ever4  
,,lady ,,amaranthe--7sinking again into 
her chair47  ,ah6 the horrid man6       
,,justine4  ,ah6 dere is no politesse1  
no more den dere is police in dis       
country4  ,,lady ,,amaranthe4  ,if ,lord
 ,amaranthe were not two hundred miles  
off--but1 as it is1 ,i must find some   
remedy--let me think--bribery1 ,i       
suppose4 ,have they sent for him8 ,i    
dread to see the wretch4 ,what noise is 
that8 allez voir1 ma chere6             

,,justine--7goes and returns47  ,madame1
 c'est justement notre homme1           
voulez-vous qu'il entre8  ,,lady        
,,amaranthe4  ,oui1 faites entrer4      
,she leans back in her chair4           
,,justine--7at the door47  ,entrez1     
entrez toujours1 dat is1 come in1 good  
mister4  ,enter ,,dick4 ,he bows2 and1  
squeezing his hat in his hands1 looks   
round him with considerable             
embarrassment4  ,,justine--7to ,lady    
,amaranthe47  ,bah6 comme il sent le    
cuir1 n'est-ce pas1 madame8  ,,lady     
,,amaranthe4  ,faugh6 mes sels--ma      
vinaigrette1 ,justine--non1 l'eau de    
,cologne1 qui est la sur la table4      
7,,justine brings her some eau de       
,cologne2 she pours some upon her       
handkerchief1 and applies it to her     
temples and to her nose1 as if overcome2
 then1 raising her eye-glass1 she       
examines ,,dick from head to foot47     
,good man--a--pray1 what is your name8  
,,dick--7with a profound bow47  ,dick1  
please your ladyship4  ,,lady           

,,amaranthe4  ,hum--a--a--pray1 ,mr4    
,dick--  ,,dick4  ,folks just call me   
plain ,dick1 my lady4 ,i'm a poor honest
 cobbler1 and no mister4  ,,lady        
,,amaranthe--7pettishly47  ,well1 sir1  
it is of no consequence4 ,you live in   
the small house over the way1 ,i think8 
,,dick4  ,yes1 ma'am1 my lady1 ,i does2 
,i rents the attics4  ,,lady            
,,amaranthe4  ,you appear a good civil  
sort of man enough4 7,he bows47 ,i sent 
my servant over to request that you     
would not disturb me in the night--or   
the morning1 as you call it4 ,i have    
very weak health--am quite an           
invalid--your loud singing in the       
morning just opposite to my windows---- 
,,dick--7eagerly47  ,ma'am1 ,i--,i'm    
very sorry2 ,i ax your ladyship's       
pardon2 ,i'll never sing no more above  
my breath1 if you please4  ,,justine4   
,comment6 c'est honnete1 par exemple4   
,,lady ,,amaranthe--7surprised47  ,then 
you did not tell my servant that you    
would sing louder than ever1 in spite of

 me8  ,,dick4  ,me1 my ,lady8 ,i never  
said no such thing4   ,,lady            
,,amaranthe4  ,this is strange2 or is   
there some mistake8 ,perhaps you are not
 the same ,mr4 ,dick8  ,,dick4  ,why1   
yes1 my lady1 for that matter1 ,i be the
 same ,dick4 7,approaching a few steps1 
and speaking confidentially47 ,i'll just
 tell your ladyship the whole truth1 and
 not a bit of a lie4 ,there comes an    
impudent fellow to me1 and he tells me1 
just out of his own head1 ,i'll be      
bound1 that if ,i sung o' mornings1 he  
would have me put in the stocks4  ,,lady
 ,,amaranthe4  ,good heavens6           
,,justine--7in the same tone47  ,grands 
dieux6  ,,dick--7with a grin47  ,now the
 stocks is for a rogue1 as the saying   
is4 ,as for my singing1 that's neither  
here nor there2 but no jackanapes shall 
threaten me4 ,i will sing if ,i please1 
7sturdily17 and ,i won't sing if ,i     
don't please2 and 7lowering his tone7 ,i
 don't please1 if it disturbs your      
ladyship4 7,retreating7 ,i wish your    

ladyship a good day1 and better health4 
,,lady ,,amaranthe4  ,stay2 you are not 
then the rude uncivil person ,i was told
 of8  ,,dick4  ,i hopes ,i knows better 
than to do an uncivil thing by a lady4  
,bows and retreats towards the door4    
,,lady ,,amaranthe4  ,stay1             
sir--a--a--one word4  ,,dick4  ,oh1 as  
many as you please1 ma'am2 ,i'm in no   
hurry4  ,,lady                          
,,amaranthe--7graciously47  ,are you    
married8  ,,dick--7rubbing his hands    
with glee47  ,yes1 ma'am1 ,i be2 and to 
as tight a bit of a wife as any in the  
parish4  ,,justine4  ,ah6 il parait que 
ce monsieur ,dick aime sa femme6 ,est-il
 amusant6  ,,lady ,,amaranthe4  ,you    
love her then8  ,,dick4  ,oh1 then ,i   
do6 ,i love her with all my heart6 who  
could help it8  ,,lady ,,amaranthe4     
,indeed6 and how do you live8  ,,dick4  
,why1 bless you1 ma'am1 sometimes well1 
sometimes ill1 according as ,i have luck
 and work4 ,when we can get a bit of    
dinner1 we eat it1 and when we can't1   

why1 we go without3 or1 may be1 a kind  
neighbour helps us4  ,,lady ,,amaranthe4
  ,poor creatures6  ,,dick4  ,oh1 not so
 poor neither1 my lady2 many folks is   
worser off4 ,i'm always merry1 night and
 day2 and my ,meg is the good           
temperedst1 best wife in the world4     
,we've never had nothing from the       
parish1 and never will1 please ,god1    
while ,i have health and hands4  ,,lady 
,,amaranthe4  ,and you are happy8       
,,dick4  ,as happy as the day is long4  
,,lady ,,amaranthe--7aside47  ,this is a
 lesson to me4 ,eh bien1 ,justine6 voila
 donc notre sauvage6   ,,justine4  ,il  
est gentil ce monsieur ,dick1 et a      
present que je le regarde--vraiment il a
 une assez jolie tournure4  ,,lady      
,,amaranthe--7with increasing interest47
  ,have you any children8  ,,dick--7with
 a sigh47  ,no1 ma'am2 and that's the   
only thing as frets us4  ,,lady         
,,amaranthe4  ,good heavens6 you do not 
mean to say you wish for them1 and have 
scarce enough for yourselves8 how would 

you feed them8  ,,dick4  ,oh1 ,i should 
leave ,meg to feed them2 ,i should have 
nothing to do but to work for them4     
,providence would take care of us while 
they were little2 and1 when they were   
big1 they would help us4  ,,lady        
,,amaranthe--7aside47  ,i could not have
 conceived this4 7,she whispers         
,,justine1 who goes out47 7,to ,,dick47 
,can ,i do any thing to serve you8      
,,dick4  ,only1 if your ladyship could  
recommend me any custom2 ,i mend shoes  
as cheap as e'er a cobbler in ,london1  
though ,i say it4  ,,lady ,,amaranthe4  
,i shall certainly desire that all my   
people employ you whenever there is     
occasion4  ,re-enter ,,justine1 holding 
a purse in her hand4  ,,dick--7bowing47 
,much obliged1 my lady2 ,i hopes to give
 satisfaction1 but 7looking with        
admiration at ,,lady ,,amaranthe's foot 
as it rests on the footstool7 such a    
pretty1 little1 delicate1 beautiful foot
 as yon1 ,i never fitted in all my born 
days4 ,it can't cost your ladyship much 

in shoe leather1 ,i guess8  ,,lady      
,,amaranthe--7smiling complacently47    
,rather more than you would imagine1 ,i 
fancy1 my good friend4  ,,justine4      
,comment donc--ce ,monsieur ,dick1 fait 
aussi des complimens a ,madame8 ,il ne  
manque pas de gout1--7aside7 et il sait 
ce qu'il fait1 apparemment4  ,,lady     
,,amaranthe--7glancing at her foot47    
,c'est a dire--il a du bon sens1 et ne  
parle pas mal4 7,she takes the purse47  
,as you so civilly obliged me1 you must 
allow me to make you some return4       
,,dick--7putting his hand behind him47  
,me1 ma'am6 ,i'm sure ,i don't want to  
be paid for being civil4  ,,lady        
,,amaranthe4  ,but as ,i have deprived  
you of a pleasure1 my good friend1 some 
amends surely--  ,,dick4  ,oh1 ma'am1   
pray don't mention it2 my wife's a      
little tired and sleepy sometimes of a  
morning1 and if ,i didn't sing her out  
of bed1 ,i do think she would1 by       
chance1 snooze away till six o'clock1   
like any duchess2 but a pinch or a shake

 or a kiss will do as well1 may be3 and 
7earnestly7 she's1 for all that1 the    
best woman in the world4  ,,lady        
,,amaranthe--7smiling47  ,i can believe 
it1 though she does sleep till six      
o'clock like a duchess4 ,well1 my good  
friend1 there are five guineas in this  
purse2 the purse is my own work2 and ,i 
request you will present it to your wife
 from me1 with many thanks for your     
civility4  ,,dick--7confused47  ,much   
obliged1 much obliged1 but ,i can't1 ,i 
can't indeed1 my lady4 ,five guineas6 ,o
 ,lord6 ,i should never know what to do 
with such a power of money4  ,,lady     
,,amaranthe4  ,your wife will not say   
the same1 depend upon it2 she will find 
some use for it4  ,,dick4  ,my ,meg1    
poor woman6 she never had so much money 
in all her life4  ,,lady ,,amaranthe4   
,i must insist upon it2 you will offend 
me4  ,,justine--7taking the purse out of
 her lady's hand1 and forcing it upon   
,,dick47  ,dieux6 est-il bete6--you no  
understand8--,it is de gold and de      

silver money 7laughing47 ,comme il a    
l'air ebahi6  ,,dick--7putting up the   
money47  ,many thanks1 and ,i pray ,god 
bless your ladyship6  ,,lady            
,,amaranthe--7gaily47  ,good morning1   
,mr4 ,dick4 ,remember me to your wife4  
,,dick4  ,i will1 my lady4 ,i wish your 
ladyship1 and you1 miss1 a good morning4
 7,to himself47 ,five guineas6--what    
will ,meg say8--,now ,i'll be a master  
shoemaker4 7,going out in an ecstasy1 he
 knocks his head against the wall47     
,,lady ,,amaranthe4  ,take care1 friend4
 ,montrez-lui la porte1 ,justine6       
,,justine4  ,mais venez donc1 ,monsieur 
,dick--par ici--et n'allez pas donner le
 nez contre la porte6                   
,,dick follows ,,justine out of the     
door1                                   
after making several bows4  ,,lady      
,,amaranthe4  ,poor man6--well1 he's    
silenced--he does not look as if he     
would sing1 morning or night1 for the   
next twelve months4  ,re-enter          
,,justine4  ,,justine4  ,voici ,madame  

,mincetaille1 qui vient pour essayer la 
robe-de-bal de madame4  ,,lady          
,,amaranthe4  ,ah6 allons donc4         
,they go out4       ,the ,,scene changes
 to the ,cobbler's ,garret4  ,enter     
,,margery1 in haste2 a basket in her    
hand4 ,she looks about her4  ,,margery4 
,not come back yet6 what can keep him1  
,i wonder6 7,takes off her bonnet and   
shawl47 ,well1 ,i must get the dinner   
ready4 7,pauses1 and looks anxious47    
,but1 somehow1 ,i feel not easy in my   
mind4 ,what could they want with        
him8--,hark6 7,goes to the door7        
,no--what a time he is6 ,but suppose    
they should 'dite him for a nuisance--,o
 me6 or send him to the watchhouse--,o  
my poor dear ,dick6 ,i must go and see  
after him6 ,i must go this very instant 
moment6 7,snatches up her bonnet47 ,oh1 
,i hear him now2 but how slowly he comes
 up6                                    
,runs to the door1 and leads him in4    
,enter ,,dick4  ,,margery4  ,oh1 my     
dear1 dear ,dick1 ,i am so glad you are 

come at last6 ,but how pale you look6   
all ,i don't know how6 ,what's the      
matter8 why don't you speak to me1      
,dick1 love8  ,,dick--7fanning himself  
with his hat47  ,let me breathe1 wife4  
,,margery4  ,but what's the matter8     
where have you been8 who did you see8   
what did they say to you8 ,come1 tell me
 quick4  ,,dick4  ,why1 ,meg1 how your  
tongue does gallop6 as if a man could   
answer twenty questions in a breath4    
,,margery4  ,did you see the lady       
herself8 ,tell me that4                 
,,dick--7looking round the room         
auspiciously47  ,shut the door first4   
,,margery4  ,there4                     
,shuts it4  ,,dick4  ,shut the other4   
,,margery4  ,the other8--,there4        
,shuts it4  ,,dick4  ,lock it fast1 ,i  
say4  ,,margery4  ,there's no lock2 and 
that you know4  ,,dick--7frightened47   
,no lock2--then we shall all be robbed6 
,,margery4  ,robbed of what8 ,sure1     
there's nothing here for any one to rob6
 ,you never took such a thing into your 

head before4                            
,,dick goes to the door1 and tries to   
fasten it4  ,,margery--7aside47  ,for   
sartain1 he's bewitched--or have they   
given him something to drink8--or1      
perhaps1 he's ill4 7,very               
affectionately1 and laying her hand on  
his shoulder47 ,are you not well1 ,dick1
 love8 ,will you go to bed1 sweetheart8 
,,dick--7gruffly47  ,no4 ,go to bed in  
the broad day6--the woman's cracked4    
,,margery--7whimpering47  ,oh1 ,dick1   
what in the world has come to you8      
,,dick4  ,nothing--nothing but good1 you
 fool4 ,there--there--don't cry1 ,i tell
 you4  ,,margery--7wiping her eyes47    
,and did you see the lady8  ,,dick4     
,ay1 ,i seed her2 and a most beautiful  
lady she is1 and she sends her sarvice  
to you8  ,,margery4  ,indeed6           
lauk-a-daisy6 ,i'm sure ,i'm much       
obliged--but what did she say to you8   
,,dick4  ,oh1 she said this1 and that1  
and t'other--a great deal4  ,,margery4  
,but what1 ,dick8  ,,dick4  ,why1 she   

said--she said as how ,i sung so fine1  
she couldn't sleep o' mornings4         
,,margery4  ,sleep o' mornings6 that's a
 good joke6 ,let people sleep o' nights1
 ,i say4  ,,dick--7solemnly47  ,but she 
can't1 poor soul1 she's very ill2 she   
has pains here1 and pains there1 and    
everywhere4  ,,margery4  ,indeed6 poor  
lady6 then you mustn't disturb her no   
more1 ,dick1 that's a sure thing4       
,,dick4  ,ay1 so ,i said2 and so she    
gave me this4                           
,takes out the purse1 and holds it up4  
,,margery--7clapping her hands47  ,o    
goodness6 what a fine purse6--,is there 
any thing in it8  ,,dick--7chinks the   
money47  ,do ye hear that8 ,guess now4  
,,margery--7timidly47  ,five shillings1 
perhaps1 eh8  ,,dick4  ,five            
shillings6--five guineas1 girl4         
,,margery--7with a scream47  ,five      
guineas6 five guineas6 7skips about7    
tal1 lal1 la6 five guineas6 7,runs and  
embraces her husband47 ,oh1 ,dick6 we'll
 be so rich and so happy4 ,i want a     

power of things4 ,i'll have a new       
gown--lavender1 shall it be8--,yes1 it  
shall be lavender2 and a dimity         
petticoat2 and a lace cap1 like ,mrs4   
,pinchtoe's1 with pink ribbons--how she 
will stare6 and ,i'll have two silver   
spoons1 and a nutmeg-grater1 and----    
,,dick4  ,ho1 ho1 ho6 what a jabber6    
din1 din1 din6 ,you'll have this1 and   
you'll have that6 ,first1 ,i'll have a  
good stock of neat's leather4           
,,margery4  ,well1 well1 give me the    
purse2 ,i'll take care of it4           
,snatches at it4  ,,dick4  ,no1 thankee1
 ,i'll take care of it4                 
,,margery--7coaxing47  ,you know ,i     
always keep the money1 ,dick6  ,,dick4  
,ay1 ,meg1 but ,i'll keep this1 do ye   
mind8  ,,margery4  ,what6 keep it all to
 yourself8--,no1 you won't2 an't ,i your
 wife1 and haven't ,i a right8 ,i ax you
 that4  ,,dick4  ,pooh6 don't be        
bothering me4  ,,margery4  ,come1 give  
it me at once1 there's a dear ,dick6    
,,dick4  ,what1 to waste it all in      

woman's nonsense and frippery8 ,don't be
 a fool6 we're rich1 and we'll keep it  
safe4  ,,margery4  ,why1 where's the use
 of money but to spend8 ,come1 come1 ,i 
will have it4  ,,dick4  ,hey-day6 you   
will8--,you shan't2 who's the master    
here1 ,i say8                           
,,margery--7passionately47  ,why1 if you
 come to that1 who's the mistress here1 
,i say8  ,,dick4  ,now1 ,meg1 don't you 
go for to provoke me4  ,,margery4       
,pooh6 ,i defy you4  ,,dick--7doubling  
his fist47  ,don't you put me in a      
passion1 ,meg6  ,,margery4  ,get along2 
,i don't care that for you6 7snaps her  
fingers47 ,you used to be my own dear   
,dick1 and now you're a cross1 miserly  
curmudgeon--  ,,dick--7quite furious47  
,you will have it then6 ,why1 then1 take
 it1 with a mischief2 take that1 and    
that1 and that6                         
,he beats her2 she screams4  ,,margery4 
,oh6 oh6 oh6--pray don't--pray--7,breaks
 from him1 and throws herself into a    
chair47 ,o ,dick6 to go for to strike   

me6 ,o that ,i should ever see the      
day6--you cruel1 unkind----,oh6 oh6     
,covers her face with her apron1 sobs1  
and cries2 and                     he   
stands looking at her sheepishly4 ,a    
long pause4  ,,dick--7in great          
agitation47  ,eh1 why6 women be made of 
eggshells1 ,i do think4 ,why1 ,meg1 ,i  
didn't hurt you1 did ,i8 why don't you  
speak8 ,now1 don't you be sulky1 come2  
it wasn't much4 ,a man is but flesh and 
blood1 after all2 come1 ,i say--,i'll   
never get into a passion with you again 
to my dying day--,i won't--come1 don't  
cry2 7tries to remove the apron17 come1 
kiss1 and be friends4 ,won't you forgive
 your own dear ,dick1 won't you8 7ready 
to cry7 ,she won't6--,here1 here's the  
money1 and the purse and all--take it1  
do what you like with it4 7,she shakes  
her head47 ,what1 you won't then8 why1  
then1 there--7throws it on the ground47 
,deuce fetch me if ever ,i touch it     
again6 and ,i wish my fingers had been  
burnt before ever ,i took it1--so ,i do6

 7with feeling47 ,we were so happy this 
morning1 when we hadn't a penny to bless
 ourselves with1 nor even a bit to eat2 
and now1 since all this money has come  
to us of a suddent1 why1 it's all as one
 as if old ,nick himself were in the    
purse4 ,i'll tell you what1 ,meg1 eh6   
shall ,i8 ,shall ,i take it back to the 
lady1 and give our duty to her1 and tell
 her we don't want her guineas1 shall   
,i1 ,meg8 shall ,i1 dear heart8         
,during the last few words ,,margery    
lets the apron                          
fall from her face1 looks up at him1 and
 smiles4  ,,dick4  ,oh1 that's right1   
and we'll be happy again1 and never     
quarrel more4  ,,margery4  ,no1 never6  
7,they embrace47 ,take it away1 for ,i  
can't bear the sight of it4  ,,dick4    
,take it you then1 for you know1 ,meg1  
,i said ,i would never touch it again2  
and what ,i says1 ,i says--and what ,i  
says1 ,i sticks to4                     
,pushes it towards her with his foot4   
,,margery4  ,and so do ,i3 and ,i vowed 

to myself that ,i wouldn't touch it1 and
 ,i won't4                              
,kicks it back to him4  ,,dick4  ,how   
shall we manage then8 ,oh1 ,i have it4  
,fetch me the tongs here4 7,takes up the
 purse in the tongs1 and holds it at    
arm's length47 ,now ,i'm going4 ,so1    
,meg1 if you repent1 now's the time4    
,speak--or for ever hold your tongue4   
,,margery4  ,me repent8 ,no1 my dear    
,dick6 ,i feel1 somehow1 quite light1 as
 if a great weight were gone away from  
here4 7,laying her hands on her bosom47 
,money may be a good thing when it comes
 little by little1 and we gain it       
honestly by our own hard work2 but when 
it comes this way1 in a lump--one       
doesn't know how or why--it's quite too 
surprising1 as one may say2--it gets    
into one's head1 like--the punch1 ,dick6
  ,,dick4  ,aye1 and worser--turns it   
all the wrong way2 but ,i've done with  
both3--,i'll have no more to say to     
drinking1 and fine ladies1 and purses o'
 money2--we'll go and live in the stall 

round the corner1 and ,i'll take to my  
work and my singing again--eh1 ,meg8    
,,margery4  ,bless you1 my dear1 dear   
,dick6 7kisses him47  ,,dick4  ,ay1     
that's as it should be3--so now come    
along4 ,we never should have believed   
this1 if we hadn't tried2 but it's just 
what my old mother used to say--,,much  
,,coin1 ,,much ,,care4#bh         99    
99       99       99       99  ,,the    
,,end4    ,,london3   ,,ibotson ,,and   
,,palmer1 ,,printers1 ,,savoy ,,street1 
,,strand4         99       99       99  
99       99     ,,footnotes3   ,footnote
 #a3 ,some of the sentences which follow
 7marked by inverted commas17 are taken 
from a portrait of ,mrs4 ,siddons1 dated
 #ahab1 and attributed to ,sir ,walter  
,scott4  ,footnote #b3 ,i am permitted  
to give the following little extract as 
farther illustrating that tenderness of 
nature which ,i have only touched upon4 
,i owe ---- ---- a letter1 but ,i don't 
know how it is1 now that ,i am arrived  
at that time of life when ,i supposed ,i

 should be able to sit down and indulge 
my natural indolence1 ,i find the       
business of it thickens and increases   
around me2 and ,i am now as much        
occupied about the affairs of others as 
,i have been about my own4 ,i am just   
now expecting my son ,george's two      
babies from ,india4 ,the ship which took
 them from their parents1 ,i thank      
heaven1 is safely arrived3 ,oh6 that    
they could know it6 ,for the present ,i 
shall have them near me4 ,there is a    
school between my little hut and the    
church1 where they will have delicious  
air1 and ,i shall be able to see the    
poor dears every day4  ,footnote #c3 ,i 
believe it has been said2 but1 like     
,madlle4 de ,montpensier my imagination 
and my memory are sometimes confounded4 
,footnote #d3 ,ben ,jonson4  ,footnote  
#e3 ,george the ,fourth1 after          
conversing with her1 said with emphasis1
 ,she is the only real queen6  ,footnote
 #f3 ,in a letter to ,mrs4 ,thrale4     
,footnote #g3 ,in the ,grosvenor        

gallery4 ,there is a duplicate of this  
picture in the ,dulwich gallery4        
,footnote #h3 ,she afterwards played    
,lady ,randolph for ,mr4 ,charles       
,kemble's benefit1 and performed ,lady  
,macbeth at the request of the ,princess
 ,charlotte in #ahaf4 ,this was her     
final appearance4 ,she was then         
sixty-one1 and her powers unabated4 ,i  
recollect a characteristic passage in   
one of her letters relating to this     
circumstance3 she says1 ,the princess   
honoured me with several gracious 7not  
graceful7 nods2 but the newspapers gave 
me credit for much more sensibility than
 ,i either felt or displayed on the     
occasion4 ,i was by no means so much    
overwhelmed by her ,royal ,highness's   
kindness1 as they were pleased to       
represent me4  ,footnote #i3    ,for    
time hath laid his hand so gently on her
   ,as he too had been awed4            
,,de ,,montfort4  ,footnote #aj3 ,the   
last play she read aloud was ,henry ,v4 
only ten days before she died4          

,footnote #aa3 ,now ,mrs4 ,george       
,combe4  ,footnote #ab3 ,these sketches1
 once intended for publication1 are now 
in the possession of ,lord ,francis     
,egerton4 ,the introduction and notes   
were written in ,march1 #ahcj--the      
conclusion in ,march1 #ahcd4  ,footnote 
#ac3 ,the alteration and interpolations 
are by ,garrick1 of whom it was said and
 believed1 that he never read through a 
whole play of ,shakspeare's except with 
some nefarious design of cutting and    
mangling it4  ,footnote #ad3 ,she played
 in ,london the following parts         
successively3-- ,juliet1 ,belvidera1 the
 ,grecian ,daughter1 ,mrs4 ,beverley1   
,portia1 ,isabella1 ,lady ,townly1      
,calista1 ,bianca1 ,beatrice1           
,constance1 ,camiola1 ,lady ,teazle1    
,donna ,sol1 7in ,lord ,francis         
,egerton's translation of ,hemani1 when 
played before the queen at ,bridgewater 
,house17 ,queen ,katherine1 ,catherine  
of ,cleves1 ,louisa of ,savoy1 in       
,francis ,i41 ,lady ,macbeth1 ,julia in 

the ,hunchback4  ,footnote #ae3 ,the    
only parts which1 to my knowledge1 she  
chose for herself1 were ,portia1        
,camiola1 and ,julia in the ,hunchback4 
,she was accused of having declined     
playing ,inez de ,castro in ,miss       
,mitford's tragedy1 and ,i heard her    
repel that accusation very indignantly4 
,she added--,setting aside my respect   
for ,miss ,mitford1 ,i never1 on        
principle1 have refused a part4 ,it is  
my business to do whatever is deemed    
advantageous to the whole concern1 to do
 as much good as ,i can2 not to think of
 myself4 ,if they bid me act ,scrubb1 ,i
 would act it6  ,footnote #af3 ,at      
,dresden and at ,frankfort ,i saw the   
,merchant of ,venice played as it stands
 in ,shakspeare1 with all the stately   
scenes between ,portia and her          
suitors--the whole of the character of  
,jessica--the lovely moon-light dialogue
 between ,jessica and ,lorenzo1 and the 
beautiful speeches given to ,portia1 all
 which1 by sufferance of an ,english    

audience1 are omitted on our stage4     
,when ,i confessed to some of the great 
,german critics1 that the ,merchant of  
,venice1 ,romeo and ,juliet1 ,king      
,lear1 c4 were performed in ,england not
 only with important omissions of the   
text1 but with absolute alterations1    
affecting equally the truth of          
character1 and the construction of the  
story1 they looked at me1 at first1 as  
if half incredulous1 and their          
perception of the barbarism1 as well as 
the absurdity1 was so forcibly expressed
 on their countenances1 and their       
contempt so justifiable1 that ,i confess
 ,i felt ashamed for my countrymen4     
,footnote #ag3 ,the resemblance was in  
the brow and eye4 ,when she was sitting 
to ,sir ,thomas ,lawrence1 he said1     
,these are the eyes of ,mrs4 ,siddons4  
,she said1 ,you mean like those of ,mrs4
 ,siddons4 ,no1 he replied1 they are the
 same eyes1 the construction is the     
same1 and to draw them is the same      
thing4  ,i have ever been at a loss for 

a word which should express the peculiar
 property of an eye like that of ,mrs4  
,siddons1 which could not be called     
piercing or penetrating1 or any thing   
that gives the idea of searching or     
acute2 but it was an eye which1 in its  
softest look1 and1 to a late period of  
her life1 went straight into the depths 
of the soul as a ray of light finds the 
bottom of the ocean4 ,once1 when ,i was 
conversing with the celebrated ,german  
critic1 ,boettigar1 of ,dresden1 and he 
was describing the person of ,madame    
,schirmer1 after floundering in a sea of
 ,english epithets1 none of which       
conveyed his meaning1 he at last        
exclaimed with enthusiasm--,madam6 her  
eye was perforating6  ,footnote #ah3 ,in
 the ,hunchback4  ,footnote #ai3 ,in the
 ,fatal ,marriage4  ,footnote #bj3 ,i   
recollect being present when some one   
was repeating to her a very high-flown  
and enthusiastic eulogy1 of which she   
was the subject4 ,she listened very     
quietly1 and then said with             

indescribable naivete--,perhaps ,i ought
 to blush to have all these things thus 
repeated to my face2 but the truth is1  
,i cannot4 ,i cannot1 by any effort of  
my own imagination1 see myself as people
 speak of me4 ,it gives no reflection   
back to my mind4 ,i cannot fancy myself 
like this4 ,all ,i can clearly          
understand is1 that you and every body  
are very much pleased1 and ,i am very   
glad of it6  ,footnote #ba3 ,it must be 
remembered that it was not only         
fashionable incense and public applause2
 it was the open enthusiastic admiration
 of such men as ,sir ,walter ,scott1    
,sir ,thomas ,lawrence1 ,moore1 ,rogers1
 ,campbell1 ,barry ,cornwall1 and others
 of great name1 who brought rich        
flattery in prose and in verse1 and laid
 it at her feet4 ,just before she came  
on the stage she had spent about a year 
in ,scotland with her excellent relative
 and friend1 ,mrs4 ,henry ,siddons1 and 
always referred to this period as her   
,sabbatical year1 granted to her to     

prepare her mind and principles for this
 great trial4  ,footnote #bb3 ,her own  
words4  ,footnote #bc3 ,first published 
in #ahbg4 ,the anecdote on which this   
tale is founded1 ,i met with in the     
first volume of ,dow's ,translation of  
,ferishta's ,history of ,judea4         
,footnote #bd3 ,vide the ,heetopadessa4 
,footnote #be3 ,afterwards the ,emperor 
,jehangire4  ,footnote #bf3 ,this little
 tale was written in ,march1 #ahbf1 and 
in the hands of the publishers long     
before the appearance of ,bainim's novel
 of ,the ,nowlans which contains a      
similar incident1 probably founded on   
the same fact4  ,footnote #bg3 ,this    
little tale 7written in #ahcj7 is       
founded on a striking incident related  
in ,humboldt's narrative4 ,the facts    
remain unaltered4  ,footnote #bh3 ,it   
need hardly be observed that this little
 trifle was written exclusively for very
 young actors1 to whom the style was    
adapted2 and though below all criticism1
 it has been included here to gratify   

those for whom it was originally        
written1 and as a memorial of past      
times4 ,the subject is imitated from one
 of ,theodore ,leclerq's ,proverbes     
,dramatiques4         99       99       
99       99       99  ,transcriber's    
,note3 ,errata as given in the original 
have been applied to the text4 ,other   
than the most exceedingly obvious       
typographical errors1 all inconsistent  
spelling1 hyphenation1 diacriticals1    
archaic usage1 etc4 have been preserved 
as printed in the original4