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Leopold II. and grand niece of Josephus
II, both emperors of Germany and both
supposed to have died by poison, admi. nistered by Bonaparte's former friends, the French Jacobins. Louis XVI. and his unfortunate consort, the last and murdered queen of France, Maria An. toinette, (who was also her great aunt) were her godfather and god-mother, and was called after them. The (by Bonaparte) dethroned Ferdinand IV. - and Carolina, king and queen of Na, ples, are her grand parents by her mether's side. She is twenty-two years and eight months younger than her husband in petto, being born December 12th, 1791. She was of course four years and three months old, when Bonaparte, on the 7th of March, 1796, married the at present repudiated Josephine. It is said that the offer made by him to marry a Russian and an English prin. cess, have been rejected with equal hauteur, both at St. Petersburgh and at St. James's, and that the Austrian mo. narch has been obliged to sacrifice his ... daughter for the preservation of his dynasty.
On Saturday evening last, by she rev. Mr. Coofer, Mr. John Marsh, to Miss Margaret Gilman, all of this city.
On the 22d of Feb. last, at Louisiana, Mr. Andre Deslowde, filanter, of that Territory, to Miss Sally Harriet Peters, daughter of Mr. John Peters, merchant, of this city. on Saturday evening, Samuel Riker, Jun. esq. to Miss Margaret J. Mantgomery, daughter of Dr. Montgomery.
On Saturday evening, Mr. Daniel S. Thorne, to Miss Eliza Giles, daughter of Gen. Giles.
<convention OF THE WINDS.
*Twas on a cloudless, moonlight night, That quite eclips'd St. Stephen's tapers, when one might see to read or write Orders of Council and State Papers.
Eolus, who had been that night On business over Chelsea ferry, At his return, (things looked so bright) Resolv'd to make his vassals merry.
+He called the East, he called the West, To meet him in his hall, so airy;
The North, the South, and all the rest That round his veering compass vary
He treated as a chieftain should—
Boreas quite enraged at this,
That he had acted much anniss,
At Copenhagen's name the East
* If ever an occasion come,) “To blast each esort at invasio
My wife did not seem to be satisfied, she again questioned me, and showed such a lively interest in my supposed indisposition, and with such an appearance of sincerity, that I was for a moment staggered in the belief of my misery. You may judge what sort of a night I passed, and what were my sufferings. I arose at break of day, and called Cornelio and my huntsman to go to the chace. We remained out the whole day; towards the evening Cornelio appeared more fatigued than ordinary, and told me, that he was so
wcak that he feared he should
faint. “Return to the castle,” said I, and teil my wife that she need not wait for me, as I shall not sleep at home.” Night came on, I got rid of my followers, and by a circuitous path returned to my house. As in this country we are in no fear of thieves, I easily entered without alarming.any of the family. I instantly repaired to Cornelio's chamber, but he was not there. I now struck a light and
entered a saloon which adjoined to a corridor above my wife's chamber. Each step I took my heart palpitated. violently with terror and grief. I passed along that part of the castle which looked towards the garden, and remarked a ladder placed against the wall, and leading to a small window of my wise's bed-room, which was covered within by a picture of Titian's, which I had lately purchased, and for which I had not yet found another place. This discovery was a death-blow to me, for how could I any louger doubt their guilt 2 My knees bent under me, and I was near fainting, so much had rage and despair taken possession of my faculties.— Having, however, somewhat lecovered, I threw down the ladder, flew to my wife's apartment, and galled, or rather screamed. She instantly opened the door, Cornelio was there, and, terrified at my appearance, ran to the window, but missing the ladder, in his haste, sell to the earth, and broke several of his ribs. I heard his fail, shut my wife in her chamber, aud ran to him. “Wretch,” cried I, monster of wickedness and ingratitude, I could not conqludc, but gave him
-----confess it, whom it is impossible ! for me not to love l’”
numerous blows’ with my poigmard. Still more inflamed by the vengeance I had taken, I returned up stairs, and raised my arm to || My companion ceased speaking strike my adulterous wife, but the -I was strongly affected by his steel fell from my hand, and since : story, and in silence rose and fol then, whenever I have attempted | lowed him. We crossed the garto punish her, I have never had || den, and directed our steps tothe resolution to pierce the heart wards the tower, which I had obof one whom I had so tenderly served on my arrival ; we enterlawed. | ed, and he opened the door of a - | kind of dangeon, the fatal depo“Ashamed of my weakness, sitory of his victims. I was now but still under the influence of seized with horror at the sight of passion, I resolved to shut her up | a spectacle to which it is impos
in a kind of tomb, with her lover
and the servant I had killed.
“This revenge is doubtless 'dreadful, yet it has not satisfied my broken heart; her death alone” would do that. But I have never been able to perpetrate the act.— I daily take her food to support her miserable cristence ; for twelve days she has not beheld the light, nor heard me pronounce one word, and I am an hundred titnes more wretched than herself. O, why cannot I abandon her to herself, forget her, and fly to the dreary desert : But what will be said of me and my family by the public, that cruel tyrant who always judges without listening : You, Signior, the only person to whom I have opened my heart, add to the kindness you have shewn in listening to my woes, that of following me ; come and beliold the melancholy and fatal object with whom it is impos»ible for one to livc, and shall I
sible that words can do justice.— On one side appeared a corpse covered with wounds, besmeared | with blood, and already emitying the most insupportable exhalations; on the other side lay another corpse, placed under the eyes of one of the loveliest of women that nature ever formed, and whose mild and dignified grief seemed to enabellish her, whilst it attested her innocence or repentence— And as if this spectacle was not sufficiently affecting, the dog I formerly mentioned had followed us, and recognising his unfortunate mistress, leaped towards her, and licking her hands, howled aloud for joy. I burst into tears;
and Don Alvaro could not restrain.
his. I availed myself of this moment, and said—“Hitherto, Sig nior, I have listened to you in silence, I have sympathized in your | griefs, O, now have the patience
to hear me. You have acknow
ledged to me, that the love which i you felt for your wife even at first