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yawn with a virtuous dolt. This is the reason why you have seen me in the intimacy of a man whom I neither love nor esteem."

It was from

The Marquis then drew a letter from his pocket, which he very leisurely unfolded and presented to me. Leoni, and ran thus :

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My dear Marquis,—Although you sometimes put me in such a rage as to make me long to break your head, I believe you do feel a friendship for me, and that you are sincere in your offers to serve me. However, I am not in need of them at present. I have something better in hand; my affairs are in a fair way of coming round most gloriously. The only stumbling block in my way now is my cara sposa. You are quite right. Her appearance here would mar all my schemes. But what can I do? I feel a most ridiculous and invincible attachment to her. Her grief unmans me. I cannot see her weep without being at her feet. You think lightly if her: you are wrong, she is proof against the temptation of wealth. But spite you say, yes, that is more likely, for where is the woman who will not do from anger what she would not do from love? Juliet is proved. I have ascertained this beyond doubt, on a late occasion. If she hears I am at the feet of another-but no, I cannot think of it without a pang-you may try her." "And now," said the Marquis when I had finished the perusal, "I may go in search of

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'My gondola," said I, crushing the hateful epistle and ringing the bell with violence.

"Why what the deuce is she at now !" said the Marquis in

amazement.

"Tell my maid to pack a trunk for me instantly," said I to the servant," and let Beppo have the gondola at the door as soon as possible.'

"Why you are not going to leave the house," said the Marquis. "Where would you go to?" I hurried out of the room and was soon equipped in a travelling dress. I came down stairs, followed by my maid carrying a cloak; as I was stepping into the gondola, an agitated hand withheld me by the dress. I turned about and beheld Chalon betraying symptoms of terror and dismay. "Where are you going?" said he in an altered tone. "To Milan," said I.

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'Stop a moment," he cried in a rage "the letter,—give it me, or you shall not stir."

"Beppo!" said I, in the exasperation of anger and fear, springing towards the godolier, "rid me of this ruffian, he is

pinching my arm." I was a great favourite with the servants, I was so gentle and kind to them. Beppo said not a word, but springing forwards he caught me in his arms, lifted me from the stairs, and giving them a push with his foot while in the act of placing me on board, the gondola was in motion and Chalon almost precipitated into the canal. He darted after me one look declarative of eternal hostility and implacable re

venge.

I travelled day and night, and was set down at the hotel at Milan, which Leoni had given me as his address. I enquired for him. The landlady stared at me with astonishment.

"He does not stop here," said she, "he merely got down here upon his arrival, and hired a small room where he keeps his luggage, he generally calls in the morning to ask for his letters."

"But where does he lodge?" said I.

The landlady regarded me with curiosity and uncertainty; and either out of respect or pity would not decide upon answering. I did not press her, but begged to be shown to the room which Leoni had hired. "If you know where he is to be found," said I, "send him word that his sister is here." In an hour's time Leoni arrived, he held out his arms to embrace me. "Hold," said I, shrinking from him, "if you have deceived me hitherto-do not add another crime to all those you have committed against me. Here, look at this letter. Is it your handwriting? quick quick-is it a forgery or not?" Leoni cast his eyes upon the letter and became pale as death.

"Oh God," I exclaimed, "I hoped it would prove a forgery. I was certain you could have known nothing of the infamous imposition. He has wronged me I said, he has decieved me, but he loves me. If it be true that I am in his way, he would have told me so a month since, when I summoned up courage to leave him while he supplicated me to stay. If he is ambitious and intriguing why did he detain me, for I have no fortune and my love can be of no service to him. Why should he complain of my importunity when a word would have been sufficient to dismiss me. He knows I am proud. He has no reason to fear either my prayers or my reproaches. Why would he seek to degrade me."

I could not continue, a flow of tears choked my voice and checked my words.

"Why should I degrade you," said Leoni frantically: "to spare my griping conscience remorse You can't understand that Juliet. You know not what a guilty conscience is."

He paused, I sank into a chair, and we both remained silent.

"and you deserve to be the

"Poor girl," said he at length, wife, the victim of a villain like me. Juliet!"

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Poor Juliet!

Poor

'Hold,” said I, "I came to hear your justification or my condemnation. You are guilty-I pardon you, farewell." "Never-never," said Leoni with wild desperation, "you shall not leave me, as long as I have a drop of blood in my If you would go, escape secretly, but say not farewell; you are my wife, I love you; I may kill you with grief, but I cannot let you leave me.'

veins I will oppose it.

"I would accept the grief and the death," said I, "if you only say you love me.'

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Yes, I love you, I love you," said he, putting on his usual transports; "I love you and you alone."

"Base man, 'tis false," said I; "you have attached yourself to the Princess Zigarole."

"Yes; but I detest her."

"What!" I exclaimed, struck with amazement, "then why attach yourself to her? What hideous secrets lurk beneath all these enigmas? Chalon has given me to understand that a vile design bound you to that woman-that she was old—that you expected to be her heir."

"Calumnies, vile calumnies!" said Leoni. is young and handsome.”

"The princess

"Very well," said I; "better you were fickle than dishonourable. Your obstinacy in trying to detain me, to torture me to death, is a cruelty I shall not endure."

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"It is," said Leoni, with a gloomy air; you may go. I would be an assassin were I to prevent you."

He left the room with an air of desperation. I threw myself upon my knees and prayed for strength. I invoked the recollection of my mother, and I rose to make preparations for my journey.

When everything was ready, I asked for post-horses for that same evening, and in the meantime I threw myself on a couch. I was so overcome with fatigue, and so shattered by sorrow, that sleep seemed to me like the repose of the tomb.

At the expiration of an hour I was awoke by a kiss from Leoni.

"I have not resolution enough to let you go," said he; “I have sent back the horses. I have taken a walk in the FEBRUARY, 1840.

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country, and I have done all I could to nerve myself to let you go. I formed the resolution of not bidding you adieu, and I went to the Princess: all would not do-you must stay with me."

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"The trumpet calls-I must away-
Adieu, dear love a long adieu,
And may kind Heaven speed fast the day,
That brings me back to home and you.'
'Twas thus at parting Frederick said,
As from his Ellen's twining arms,
With hasty step the soldier sped

To seek the battle's loud alarms,

He pressed his father's hand, to speak
The thoughts his tongue refused to tell-
He kissed his aged mother's cheek,
In token of his sad farewell.

His babes-it wrnng his manly heart
To leave their smiling eyes behind-
He clasped thein both, and turned apart
The consort of his soul to find.

She fell upon his heaving breast,

With sobs it racked his frame to hear,
And in his eye there stood confessed-
Unmeet for soldier's eye-a tear.
He felt his manlier feelings move-
His firmness would not brook delay,
And with the words of fondest love,

He loosed her hold-and rushed away!
They watched his steps, as to his band
With grief's wild haste he swiftly flew-
They saw him take his destined stand
Among his country's army true.

They watched him when the troop began
Its rapid march o'er dale and hill,

And when the forest hid his clan,

They gazed, as though they saw him still.

Still from the far-off wood's retreat,
The pealing trumpet sounded clear,

"In notes by distance made more sweet,"
It fell upon the tranquil ear.

But to the group that caught its tone,
It seemed a sadder strain to pour,

As though it said in sorrow's moan

"Your Frederick shall return no more."

Why should fond souls, when doomed to part,
Their blood with fears prophetic chill?

Alas! too truly sinks the heart,

Too sure is love in boding ill!

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