WE OO WHERE DEMOCRATIC PRINCIPLES POINT TUB .WAY WHEN .THSV CBA8K TO LAJ, WE CKASB
TO FOLLOW.'
BY ANDREW J. R 1112V.
EBENSBURG, THURSDAY. MARCH 0, 1851.
VOL. 7, NO. 21
'Ti rii r i
:. )
iJuU
From Graham's Magazine. .
ITORlFi FRO 13 THE OLD DRAMATISTS. FORD.
THE BROKEN HEART.
BY ENSA lMjVAL. '
uOur cctcio is Sparta. He whose ha it of art
Math drawn tins piece, calls it tTo Broke
(Imr, '
What may be hero thought Fiction, when
Time's yeuth
Wanted l'iino riper years, was known a Truth;
In which, if xvords huth clothed the subject
right, '
You may partake a pity with delight."
Axyclas, king of Laeonia, had but one
child, a beautiful daughter, the Princess
Calantha, heiress of his kingdom; next to
this child, the young and brave Lord Ith
ocles, sat nearest to his heart. This
young nobleman merited the king's favor
well, for he was a modie of courage and
virtue. As his friend, Prophilus, said of
him, in the firmament of honor in which
his sovereign's love had placed him, he
stood like a fixed stir, not moved with
any thunder tf popular applause, or sud
ien lightning of opinion.
A war broke out with the neighboring
lite of Mesaene. and King Amyclas, was
threatened with the loss of his kingdom;
but Ithocles, at the head of the army, trod
under foot Messene's pride, and bowed
her neck to Laeedemon's royalty. On
his return the king greeted him with out
stretched arms, calling him, delight of
8parta! treasure of his heart! his own
Ithocles; and the Princess Calantha
crowned him in open court with a garland
wrought by her own royal hands. But
the young man received these greetings
with such graceful modesty, that not only
charmed his friends, but won the lair Ca
laotha's heart.
"Let me blu6h," he said, when the beau
tiful princess bestowed upon him the
chaplet, "acknowledging how poorly I
have served, what nothings 1 have done,
compared with the horcrs heaped upon
me; moreover, it is the duty of a subject
to serve the state. But with him whom
Heaven is pleased to style victorious, ap
plause runs maddening, like the drunken
priests in Bacchus' sacrifices, without rea
sou voicing the leader as a demi-god;
while every common soldier's blood, is as
surrent coin in the hard purchase of vic
tory, as his whose much more delicate
condition hath sucked the milk of ease
judgment it is true commands, but resolu
tion executes. I do not mean, when say
ing this before this royal presence, con
tempt of such as can direct, but that all
praise should not be given to one man's
fortune, which has been strengthened by
many hands."
Whereupon he recommended his friend
Prophilus and other officers to the king's
favor. This noble generosity won all
hearts, and over Ithocles future seemed
beaming the bright sun rays of prosperity.
But though Ithocles merited so well his
royal master's favor and the noble mai
den's love, already the retribution that fol
lows evil was stalking fast behind him.
Few faults had. the young Spartan, it was
true, but revenge and pride had made him
in the first flush of manhood commit a
grievous wrong. His father, Thrasus,
had had a deadly feud for many years
with one of the king's counsellors, the old
Lord Crotolon. Just before old Thrasus'
death, this quarrel, at the king's request,
was adjusted, and in order to render the
bond of friendship stronger, Thrasus' only
daughter, the young tender Penthea, was
betrothed to Orgilus, the only son of Cro
tolon. Soon after this betrothal, Thrasus
died, and Ithocles, proud of youth, and
till prouder of his power with the king,
cherishing also a memory of the old dis
content, broke off the marriage, and forced
his sister to wed with another. This had
resulted badly, and was secretly working
trouble for the rash young man, and at a
time, too, when calmed by maturity he
was bitterly repenting the past, and stri
ving to make amends by every work and
thought of honorable good.
Bassanes, the husband of Penthea,
loved his wife with adoration, but knowing
that her marriage with him had been one
of constraint, and being moreover suspi
cious by nature, became a prey to the
fiercest jealousy, which, though lie vainly
endeavored to hide, and bitterly repented
every outbrust of passion, rendered his
poor broken-hearted wife's existence mis
erable. Of Orgilus. her lover, he was
most especially jealous, though entirely
without reason, lor Penthea was good and
pure, and though her innocent young love
had been fairly given to young Orgilus,
after her marriage with Bassanes, she
would have shrunk with horror at the
thought of wronging him even by a look.
Orgilus, though driver, almost to mad
ness by his grievous disappointment, in
order to secure peace for Penthea, had af.
her marriage absented himself for
hile from his home: but all in v3jn,
Bassanes jealousy raged just as violently,
and daily he saw his dearly loved Penthea
bowed down under the weight of the cru
ellest suspicions and constraints, without
power to help her to soothe her grief. A
tierce and burning hatred against Ithocles
took possession of his heart, but la every
way his feelings seemed to be exasperated.
Ithocles' dear friend, Prophilus, loved
Euphranea, the only sister of Orgilus, a
young, beautiful girl, maid ol honor to
the princess; and after the Mes3enian war.
Prophilus, after being assured that his
love was returned, demanded her in mar
riage of her father. As he was the friend
of the king's favorite, and his suit prefer
red not only by Ithocles, but almost com
manded by the king, Euphranea's father,
old Crotolon, thought it madnes to refuse.
fcuc!i a marriage, to his old courtier wis
dom, seemed to open before his family, a
path shining with honors flowing from
royal favor. But Orgilus, his son; hated
Prophilus because he was Ithocles' friend,
and bitterly opposed his suit. At last,
when his father represented that refusal
would work ruin to his family, he yielded
an unwilling consent, and with the secre
tiveness peculiar to unsettled minds, veiled
his hatred for Ithocles under a spacious
show of friendship, and received with ap
parent forgiveness Ithocles penitent, sin
cere regrets for the past, in order that he
might be able at some future time to
avenge Penthea's sufferings, and his own
great wrong. Accordingly the wedding of
the young maid-of-honor took place.
During the preparations the court was
thrown into commotion by the arrival of a
royal suitor for the hand of the princess.
This caused zreat trouble to vounir Ithn-
cles- He had already discovered that he !
loved the daughter of his royal master;
which discovery had filled his breast with
sorrow, for it seemed like ingratitude; but
hourly he hung upon her words and lived
only in her presence. She was a noble
and beautiful woman; Heaven had bestow
ed the highest gifts of mind and person
upon her; and even in distant countries
were accounts related of the great Culan
tha's beauty, virtue, sweetness, and singu
lar perfections. She loved Ithocles also,
but was not conscious of her love until
the suit of another betrayed it to her.
This royal lover was her cousin Near-
chus, prince ot Arffos. II is annliMiinn
-- .
for Calanlha's hand pleased old king Amy
clas, for, as he said, it would be a marriage
ol great benefit to both kingdoms, and as
the Prince Nearchus was the next heir af
ter Calantha to the throne of Laeonia, their
union would be most suitable.
"But," added the good old king, "Ca
lantha shall decide. I have always vowed
never to enforce her affection by my will.
She shall marry no one unless her own
choice confirms mine gladly."
King Amyclas at his last visit to the
Temple at Delphos, had received a scroll
clothed in the mystic language of the ora
cle, and alter hearing Prince Nearchus'
suit, and seeing his daughter undecided,
sent this scroll to the philosopher Tecnicus,
who resided in the court, requiring from
the sage an explanation of it. The oracle
iuii iiius
The plot in which the Vine takes root,
Begins to dry from head to foot;
The flock, boon withering, want of sap
Doth cause to quail the budding grape;
But from the neighboring Elm, a dew
Shall drop, and feed the plot anew.
Old Tecnicus studied this oracle with
reverential awe, secluding himself still
more from all the court. Then he came
to Armostes, the king's confidential coun
sellor, and uncle to Ithocles, and gave him
a sealed box, containing the scroll and his
explanation of it, which he desired should
be given to the king, and announced with
a countenance and tone of voice express
ive of great grief, his immediate departure
for Delphos.
"Tell the king," he said in broken ac
cents, "he must no more inquire after my
aged head. Apollo wills it so. and I must
go to Delphos, never more to see my king
again a great prince commands me!"
Then turning to Ithocles who was present,
he said in a solemn, awe-struck voice, as
if moved by prophetic fire, and scarcely
conscious of his words "Ithocles,
"When Youth is ripe, and Age from lime doth
part,
Tho Lifeless Trunk shall wed the Broken
Heartl" Then with muttered, broken exclamations,
as if apprehensive of some approaching
trouble, he departed. -
The box was carried to the king, who,
when it was unsealed, read the following
exposition of the philosopher:
"The plot i Sparta, the dried Vine the king;
The quailing grape bis daughter; but the thing
Of most importance, not lo be revealed,
la a near prince, the Elm; the rest concealed
The poor old king, who felt himself fast
failing, was sadly perplexed at the unsatis
factory explanation, but his old counsellor
soothed him with the assurance, that the
Inncess Calantha's marriage with her
cousin of Argos, would fulfill the oracle;
he was that neighboring Elm, whose dew
of love would strengthen the young grape
his daughter, when her father's death
would bow her down with grief. But
though this aiarriage seemed so certain,
and was so much desired, it was not to
take place the Parcae had ordered other
things, which though slowly and noise
lessly approaching, would most surely
come to pass! Young Ithocles drooped
daily he saw so many advantages for the
kingdom in this offer of the prince of Ar
gos, that the marriage seemed unavoidable
to htm. Again was his repentant heart
filled with sorrow for the deep injustice
he had done his sister, and his new friend
Orgilus; his love for Calantha taught him
the extent of the great and irretrievable
wrong he had done them; and sick at
heart, both for his own sorrows and theirs,
he sent for the poor lady Penthea, and told
her all his trouble. His sister, though
sinking fast into the grave, under the
weight of the burden imposed by him
upon her life, forgave his wrong to her,
and cheered him in his love for Calantha;
promising him at parting, to invent some
means to relieve his grief.
She went to Calantha, and a beautiful
scene took place between them; the poor,
pale, suffering Penthea, whose face alrea
dy bore the prints of Death's icy finger
touch, demanded of her royal lady a pri
vate audience, which was granted, for
Calantha loved her for her own gentle
sake, as well as for the love she bore se
cretly tor Ithocles. When they were
alone, Penthea said in broken accents.
"My glass of life, sweet princess, hath
few minutes remaining to run down; the
sands are spent; for by an inward messen
ger I feel the summons of departure, short
and certain."
Calantha tenderly caressed her, saying
"You feed too much your melancholy,
Penthea, the future will have much for
you, cheer up and throw aside this heavy
grief, who knows what happiness and
greatness may vet be yours?"
"Ulories of human greatness are but
pleasing dreams and shadows soon decay
ing," replied the already dying Penthea.
"Sweet royal lady, on the stage of my
mortality my youth hath acted some scenes
of vanity, drawn out at length by varied
pleasures, sweetened in the mixture, but
tragical in issue. Beautv. nomn. with
every sensuality our giddiness doth frame
an idol, are inconsistent friends when any
troubled passion makes assault upon the
unguarded castle of the mind."
"What mean these moral texts?'' Ca
lantha asked; "what end do you propose, j
uciir muy i
"To place before you, royal madam,"
replied Penthea, "a perfect mirror, where
in you may see how weary lam of this
Iinierinr life. Noremedv rpmainc frir ma
r j vi 11 is i
but a winding sheet, a fold of lead, and t
some untrod on corner of the earth. But
before I go, ray princess, I have an hum
ble suit, a favor to ask of you. Vouch
safe to be my executrix, and take the trou
ble on you to dispose some legacies as I
bequeath them."
The princess assured her with tears
that she would do all that she required.
"I have but three poor jewels to be
queath," said Penthea, with a faint smile.
"The first is my Youth; for though so old
m griefs, in years I'm but a child; this I
bestow upon all betrothed maids and hon
est wives; the second jewel is my Fame,
which I bequeath to Memory, and Time's
old daughter, Truth."
"Nay, you jest, dear Penthea," Calen
tha replied, "and yet how handsomely you
play with harmless sport of mere imagin
ation. ou spoke of three jewels tell
wenp,the h9t forin lrutI like your
"Tlie third jewel, royal lady," answer
ed 1 enthea more solemnly, "is dearly
precious to me and you must use the best
of yoar discretion to employ the gift as I
direct. This third jewel should have
been my own heart, but that was lost long,
long ago; but instead of it I do solemnly
bequeath to great Calantha in holiest rights
of love, my only brother Ithocles, who
loves you, lady, dearly. Look on him
with an eye of pity; be a princess in sweet
ness as in blood, give him his doom or
raise him up to comfort.".
Maiden shyness and surprise took pos
session of Calantha. The prince of Ar
gos suit had proved to her she loved an
other, and that other was the brave Itho
cles; but his sister's strange request pre
sented m this sudden manner, filled her
with embarrassment; then the thought of
her father s possible objection presented
itsalf before her, but she soothed and com
forted the poor dying lady, who was aK
ready sinking under exhaustion caused by
the excitement of her conversation, and
after parting tenderly with her, made her
own ladies wait on her with all distinc
tion to her home. .
For days Calantha felt perplexed; she
knew not how to act, for though each day
convinced her that she loved Ithocles too
urpll In wcwl instil. - . l i i
-". uuitct, yei uouau ever since
the arrival of the princo of Argos held him
self aloof from her, giving her no chance
to assure herself of his love. Penthea
could no longer aid her, for she was
stretched upon her dying bed, poor lady,
and silently refused all food, as if her spirit
had already left her.
At last one morning Calantha was walk
ing with the Prince Nearchus, surrounded
by the court, among whom was Ithocles,
silent and dispirited, sad at his sister's
fate, and hopeless for his own. The
prince with gallant courtliness begged his
royal cousin to bestow upon him some
mark of her favor.
"This little spark," he said, playfully
attempting to take a ring from her finger.
"IN ay, that is a toy," replied the prin
cess smilinsr
"Love feasts on toys, dear lady," said
Nearchus, "for Cupid is a child."
"You shall not value, cousin, at a price
what I count cheap," answered Calantha;
then added with an assumed air of indiff
erence, and a tone of voice a little louder
that those around might hear "So cheap,
that let him take it who dares to stoop for
it, and give it at his next meeting to his
mistress, who'll thank him forit, perhaps."
Whereupon she drew the ring from her
finger, and threw it on the ground before
Ithocles, who, despite the angry, jealous
glances of Nearchus, and murmured re
monstrances of the courtiers, took it up,
and kneeling, presented it to the princess.
She was embarrassed for an instant, scarce
knew what to say, but answered with a
a light laugh, that it was pretty, wondrous
pretty, his taking her for a mistress, but
he might keep the ring since he had found
it; and taking her cousin's arm passed on,
leaving Ithocles almost blinded with the
sudden light of Love's scarce risen sun.
His friends remonstrated with him, and
the prince returning, treated him with con
tempt for his presumption as he termed it:
but Ithocles bore it all with quiet grace;
the fcrcr ( h;. nob!- la!y nra3 so sweet
a happiness to him, he cared for nothing
else, not even if destruction's gulf should
yawn before him. Soon after the prin
cess sent for him, saying that she wished
him to render to her in private an account
for taking up the ring; but well he knew
her real reason, his own heart gave him
wisdom, and gladly he hastened to the
audience, which ended in that perfect un
derstanding true love alone can give.
Nearchus, when he. saw the state of
Calantha's heart, nobly withdrew his
claim, saying, that though at first he was
angered, Ithocles was a man most nobly
fashioned in honor and in person, and
worthy of a noble lady's love, and when
his friend, Amelus, in private asked him
how he could brook to 3-ield up to an in
ferior in rank, not only love but right, he
answered
"I tell you, Amelus, the sight of poor,
life spent Penthea, and unhappy Orgilus,
has proved to me that affections injured by
tyranny, or rigor of compulsion, like tempest-threatened
trees unfirmly rooted, ne'er
spring to timely growth. I urge no claim
that chance of birth may give me, on Ca
lantha; willing love I ask no other would
have value forme."
The old king gladly bestowed his
daughter on young Ithocles, for his desire
to secure the happiness of his daughter
and his favorite, far outweighed the fear
he had felt after reading the mysterious
warning of the oracle now he fondly
thought the budding grape sheltered undei
the warm shade of Love, would not quail
when Death, which he felt fast approach
ing, should take him from her.
At the time the princess told her father
of herlove for Ithocles, the old king, after
joining their hands with loving consent,
gave orders that a splendid banquet should
be given in honor of the bride Euphranea,
who had been wedded with Prophilus a
short while before; and notwithstanding
his increasing infirmities forbade his pres
ence at the feast, he earnestly insisted that
all merriment should go on without him.
While they were making gorgeous pre
parations for the feast, news came to Ith
ocles, whose heart was filled with so much
happiness, that his sister was dead; with
out stopping to acquaint the princess who
was with her loyal father, he hastened to
Bassanes house; Orgilus accompanied
him; for this half-frenzied young man still
covered his cherished hatred with preten
ded friendship. Together they stood be
side the wasted form cf the dead Penthea
the repentant brother and the wronged
lover. The woful sight caused Orgilus'
long pent up hatred to burst out, and
drawing a dagger he plunged it into the
heart of his enemy and killed him.
"You dreamt of kingdoms, did you!"
he exclaimed "how with- this nod to
grace that subtle courtier how with that
frown to make this' noble tremble, and so
forth; while Penthea's groans and tortures
her agonies; her miseries, and afflictions
neer touched upon your thoughts! As
for my injuries, that were beneath yoar
royal pity. But yet they lived, proud
man, to confound you, and behold your
fate is come at fasti"
The banqaet commenced, but all obser
ved that Orgilus and Ithocles were absent.
The old courtier, Crotolon, answered the"
princess inquiries, saying hi3 son had
told him he had gone to prepare seme
new device of pleasure for the princess,
and he supposed Lord Ithodes was with
him, as they had been seen together.
The dance commenced, but as Calantha
finished the first movement, old Armos
tes came out from the king's sick-cham
bef, and with a countenance of wo, whis
pered to the princess that her father had
just breather his last breath.
"On to the other movement of the
dance," said Calantha, without heeding
the sad news. As they finished the se
cond change, poor Bassanes entered, and
in low, tearful tones told the princess that
his poor Penthea had just died of starva
tion. "Lead onto the next measure," ex
claimed the princess, and they did so;
but while she danced, the fearful news
was brought her of her loved Ithocles'
cruel murder at his sister's death-bed.
"How dull the music sounds," she
said. "Strike up more sprightly strains."
The courtiers all looked amazed at this
apparently unnatural conduct of tho prin
cess, and thought it strange such fearful
tragedies should not arouse the woman
in her. After the JatiCo wag over she
received with stately pride the congratu
lations of her courtiers, and the acknowl
edgments of her queenly right; heard
calmly the self-condemnation of Orgilus,
replying to it that she would begin her
reign with an act of justice; and ordered
him to instant execution; then gave di
rections for her coronation, which she re
quested should be speedily attended to.
The temple was prepared for the great
ceremony forthwith; the altar clothed in
white, with burning tapers of virgin wax.
The people and the courtiers assembled
there, awaiting the arrival of the new
queen; but all started with surprise when
they saw brought in, and placed on one
side of the altar, a hearse bearing the
dead Ithocles clothed in royal robes, with
a glittering crown upon his head; then
came the beautiful Calantha surrounded
by her maidens, cold, pale and tearless,
clothed in white and also crowned. She
knelt before the altar for awhile; after
concluding her devotions, she stood -up
and said in a calm and quiet voice, that as
it was necessary she would for the weal
of her kitrgdom choose a husband, she
should do so; and as her cousin of Argos
6tood next in right of succession to the
throne, she would select him for her lord;
but before wedding him she would first
make some requests. The prince with
tenderness begged her to name them. She
then portioned out offices; asked that her
father's old counsellor Armostes should be
viceroy of Argos; and Crotolon, Orgilius'
father, should govern Messene; and Bas
sanes, poor Penthea's husband, be Sparta's
marshal. Then she bestowed peusions
and arranged some marriages of her
maid's-of-honor, and lastly, requested that
Prophilus should be speedily invested
with all the honors, titles and preferments
belonging to his dear friend and her neg
lected husband.
All murmured to each other that these
requests sounded like a testament, rather
than conditions of marriage, and Prince
Nearchus asked of the princess half-re-proachlully,
what meant the word "neg
lected husband."
Calantha looked sadly at him, and re
plied 'Forgive me, Nearchus." Then turning
toward the hearse on which the dead
Ithocles was placed, took his cold hand,
and removing from her own a ring, placed
it on one of his fingers saying
"Bear witness all, I put my mother's
wedding-ring upon the finger of Ithocles;
it was my father's last bequest. Thus I
new-marry him whose wife 1 am. Death
ehall not separate us. Oh ! my lords, I
but deceived your eyes with antic gesture,
when one news straight came huddling on
another, of death! and death! and death!
Still I danced forward, but it struck home
and here and in an instant. Some women
can with shrieks and outcries vow a pres
ent end to all their sorrows, yet live to
court new pleasures and outlive their
troubles; but there are silent griefs which
cut the heart-strings."
She then gave orders for the voices at
the altar to sing the dirge she had prepared.
The music swelled out iu mournful har
monies, and low, sweet voices chanted
" Glories, pleasures, pomps, delights and ease.
Can but please
The outward senses, when the mind
Is untroubled, or by peace refined.
Crowns may flourish and decay
Beauties shine, but fade away.
Youth may revel, yet it must
Lie down in a bed of dust
Earthly honors flow and wants.
Time alone dith change and last.
Sorrows mingled with contents, prepiro
tiesi tor care.
Lovely caly reigns in death; though art
Can find no comfort for a B&okbx Haar."
While the chant continued, Calanthi
bent over her lover's body and kissed hire;
as the music ceased the courtiers seein
that she remained leaning oyer the heirae.
went toward her.and when they lifted hoc
up, found her noble spirit had fled, though
her beautiful lips smiled, as though the
first step through the portal of Death had
led to happiness.
"O, wise Tecnicus '."exclaimed Anima
tes, "thou didst utter prophecy! My
king, the old philosopher's parting word
to Ithocles are now made truth, for he
said to this poor young lord when he et
out for Delphos
"When Youth ia ripe, and Age from time dth
part.
The Lifeless-Trunk shall wed th BaoKC
HxAaT." From Slack's Ministry ,if the Beautiful, jas;
published by A. fiarl, Philadelphia. -
THE FOUNTAIN IN THE WOOD.
A little way apart from a great city
was a fountain in a wood. The water
gushed from a lock and ran in a littio
crystal stream to a mossy basin belowj
the wild-flowers nodded their heads to
( catch its tiny spray; tall trees overarched
it, ana tnrougti tlie interspaces of their
moving leaves the sunlight came and
danced with rainbow feet upon its spark
Iiiig surface
There was a young girl who managed
every day to escape a little while from the
turmoil of the city, and went like a pil
grim to the fountain in the wood. The
water was sparkling, the moss and fern
looked very lovely in the gentle moisture
which the fountain cast upon them, and
the trees waved their branches and rustled
their green leaves in happy concert with
the summer breeze. The girl loved tho
beauty of the scene and it grew upon her.
Every day the fountain had a fresh tale to
tell, and the whispering murmur of the
leaves was ever new. By-and-by she
came to know something of the language
in which the fountain, the ferns, the mo
sesj and the trees held converse. She
listened very patiendy, full of wonder and
of love. She heard them often regret that
man would not learu their language, that
. .... OO"
, they might teil luni the beautiful things
; they had to say. At last the maiden ven-
I ... I t . U .u. 1 1 i -.
; iuiuu iu icu uicui mat tue Knew tueir
j tongue, and with what exquisite delight
j she heard them talk. The fountain flowed
faster, more sunbeams danced 011 its wa
ters, the leaves sang a new song, and the
f ferns and mosses grew greener before her
! eyes. They all toid her what joy thrilled
1 through them at her words. Human beings
had passed them in abundance, they said,
and as there was a tradition among the
flowers that men once spoke, they hoped
one day to hear them do so again. The
maiden told them that all men spoke, at
which they were astonisiied, but said that
making articulate noises was not speaking,
many such they had heard, but never tiil
now real human speech; for that, they
j said, could come alone from the mind and
j heart. It was the voice of the bodv winch
men usually talked with, and that they
did not undersuud, but only the voice of
the soul, which was rare lo hear. Then
J there was great joy through all the wood,
la. 1 . .
I anu mere went torth a report that at length
a maiueu was lound wnose soul could
speak, and who knew the language of the
flowers and the fountain. And the tree
and the stream said one to another, "Even
so did our old prophets teach, and now
hath it been fulfilled." Then the maiden
tried to tell her friends in the city what
she had heard at the fountain, but could
explain very little, for although they knew
her words, they fell not her meaning.
And certain young m;n came and begged
her to take them to the wood that the v
might hear the voices. So she took one
after another, but nothing came of it, for
to them the fountain and the trees were
mute. Many thought the maiden mad,
and laughed at her belief, but ihey could
not take the sweet voices away from her.
Now the maidens wished her to take
them also, and she did, but with little bet
ter success. A few thought they heard
something, but knew not what, and on
their return to theeity its bustle obliterated
the small remembrance they had carried
away. At length a young man begged
the maiden to give him a trial, and she
did so. They went hand in hand to the
fountain, and he heard the language, altho
not so well as the maiden; but she helped
bim, and found that when both heard the
words together they were more beautiful
than ever. She let go his handand much
of the beauty was gone: the fountain told
them to join hands and lips also, and they
did it. Then.arose 6 weeter sounds than
they had ever heard, and soft voices en
compassed them saying, "Henceforth be
unueu: ior we spin ot irntn ana c&s
icty
I hath mad? you one.