exertion, he replied, ' And take this, for so roughly entreating thy father's brother.'

6

As he spoke, Damian de Lacy, the best youthful wrestler in Cheshire, received no soft fall on the floor of the dungeon. He arose slowly and astounded; but the palmer had now thrown back both hood and dalmatique, and the features, though bearing marks of age and climate, were those of his uncle the Constable, who calmly observed, I think, Damian, thou art become stronger, or I weaker, since my breast was last pressed against yours in our country's celebrated sport. Thou hadst nigh had me down in that last turn, but that I knew the old De Lacy's back-trip as well as thou. -But wherefore kneel, man? He raised him with much kindness, kissed his cheek, and proceeded; Think not, my dearest nephew, that I meant in my late disguise to try your faith, which I myself never doubted. But evil tongues had been busy, and it was this which made me resolve on an experiment the result of which has been, as I expected, most honourable for you. And know (for these walls have sometimes ears, even according to the letter) there are ears and eyes not far distant which have heard and seen the whole. Marry, I wish though, thy last hug had not been so severe a one. My ribs still feel the impression of thy knuckles.' 'Dearest and honoured uncle,' said Damian-'excuse'

6

There is nothing to excuse,' replied his uncle, interrupting him. 'Have we not wrestled a turn before now? But there remains yet one trial for thee to go through— Get thee out of this hole speedily-don thy best array to accompany me to the church at noon; for, Damian, thou must be present at the marriage of the Lady Eveline Berenger.'

This proposal at once struck to the earth the unhappy young man. For mercy's sake,' he exclaimed, 'hold me excused in this, my gracious uncle !-I have been of late severely wounded and am very weak.'

'As my bones can testify,' said his uncle. Why, man, thou hast the strength of a Norway bear.'

6

Passion,' answered Damian, 'might give me strength for a moment; but, dearest uncle, ask anything of me rather than this. Methinks, if I have been faulty, some other punishment might suffice.'

"I tell thee,' said the Constable,' thy presence is necessary -indispensably necessary. Strange reports have been abroad which thy absence on this occasion would go far to confirm. Eveline's character and mine own are concerned in this.'

'If so,' said Damian, ‘if it be indeed so, no task will be too hard for me. But I trust, when the ceremony is over, you will not refuse me your consent to take the cross, unless you should prefer my joining the troops destined, as I heard, for the conquest of Ireland.'

Aye, aye,' said the Constable; if Eveline grant you permission, I will not withhold mine.'

'Uncle,' said Damian, somewhat sternly, you do not know the feelings which you jest with.'

Nay,' said the Constable, I compel nothing; for if thou goest to the church and likest not the match, thou may'st put a stop to it if thou wilt-the sacrament cannot proceed without the bridegroom's consent.'

I understand you not, uncle,' said Damian; 'you have already consented.'

'Yes, Damian,' he said, 'I have-to withdraw my claim and to relinquish it in thy favour; for if Eveline Berenger is wedded to-day thou art her bridegroom! The Church has given her sanction-the king his approbation—the lady says not nay—and the question only now remains, whether the bridegroom will say yes.'

The nature of the answer may be easily conceived; nor is it necessary to dwell upon the splendour of the ceremonial which, to atone for his late unmerited severity, Henry honoured with his own presence. Amelot and Rose were shortly afterwards united, old Flammock having been previously created a gentleman of coat armour that the gentle Norman blood might without utter derogation, mingle with the meaner stream that coloured the cheek with crimson, and meandered in azure over the lovely neck and bosom of the fair Fleming. There was nothing in the manner of the Constable towards his nephew and his bride, which could infer a regret of the generous self-denial which he had exercised in favour of their youthful passion. But he soon after accepted a high command in the troops destined to invade Ireland; and his name is found amongst

the highest in the roll of the chivalrous Normans who first united that fair island to the English crown.

Eveline, restored to her own fair castle and domains, failed not to provide for her confessor, as well as for her old soldiers, servants, and retainers, forgetting their errors, and remembering their fidelity. The confessor was restored to the flesh-pots of Egypt, more congenial to his habits than the meagre fare of his convent. Even Gillian had the means of subsistence, since to punish her would have been to distress the faithful Raoul. They quarrelled for the future part of their lives in plenty, just as they had formerly quarrelled in poverty; for wrangling curs will fight over a banquet as fiercely as over a bare bone. Raoul died first, and Gillian having lost her whetstone, found that as her youthful looks decayed her wit turned somewhat blunt. She therefore prudently commenced devotee, and spent hours in long panegyrics on her departed husband.

The only serious cause of vexation which I can trace the Lady Eveline having been tried with, arose from a visit of her Saxon relative, made with much form, but, unfortunately, at the very time which the lady abbess had selected for that same purpose. The discord which arose between these honoured personages was of a double character, for they were Norman and Saxon, and, moreover, differed in opinion concerning the time of holding Easter. This, however, was but a slight gale to disturb the general serenity of Eveline; for with her unhoped-for union with Damian ended the trials and sorrows of THE BETROTHED.

NOTES

NOTE 1.-FOOT PAGES, p. 11

See Madoc for this literal foot page's office and duties. Mr. Southey's notes inform us : The foot-bearer shall hold the feet of the king in his lap, from the time he reclines at the board till he goes to rest, and he shall chafe them with a towel; and during all that time shall watch that no harm befalls the king. He shall eat of the same dish from which the king takes his food; he shall light the first candle before the king.' Such are the instructions given for this part of royal ceremonial in the laws of Howell Dha. It may be added that probably upon this Celtic custom was founded one of those absurd and incredible representations which were propagated at the time of the French Revolution to stir up the peasants against their feudal superiors. It was pretended that some feudal seigneurs asserted their right to kill and disembowel a peasant, in order to put their own feet within the expiring body and so recover them from the chill.

NOTE 2.-WELSH BOWMEN, p. 72

The Welsh were excellent bowmen; but, under favour of Lord Lyttelton, they probably did not use the long bow, the formidable weapon of the Normans, and afterwards of the English yeomen. That of the Welsh most likely rather resembled the bow of the cognate Celtic tribes of Ireland, and of the Highlanders of Scotland. It was shorter than the Norman long bow, as being drawn to the breast, not to the ear, more loosely strung, and the arrow having a heavy iron head; altogether, in short, a less effective weapon. It appears from the following anecdote, that there was a difference between the Welsh arrow and those of the English.

In 1122 Henry II, marching into Powys-Land to chastise Meredith ap Blethyn and certain rebels, in passing a defile was struck by an arrow on the breast. Repelled by the excellence of his breastplate, the shaft fell to the ground. When the king felt the blow, and saw the shaft, he swore his usual oath, by the death of our Lord, that the arrow came not from a Welsh but an English bow; and, influenced by this belief, hastily put an end to the war.

NOTE 3.-EUDORCHAWG, p. 89

Eudorchawg, or Gold Chains of the Welsh. These were the distinguished marks of rank and valour among the numerous tribes of Celtic extraction. Manlius, the Roman Champion, gained the name of Torquatus, or he of the chain, on account of an ornament of this kind, won, in single combat, from a gigantic Gaul. Aneurin, the Welsh bard, mentions, in his poem on the battle of Catterath, that no less than three hundred of the British, who fell there, had their necks wreathed with the Eudorchawg. This seems to infer that the chain was a badge of distinction, and valour perhaps, but not of royalty; otherwise there would scarce have been so many kings present in one battle. This chain has been found accordingly in Ireland and Wales, and sometimes, though more rarely, in Scotland. Doubtless it was of too precious materials not to be usually converted into money by the enemy into whose hands it fell.

NOTE 4.-THE BAHR-GEIST, p. 140

The idea of the Bahr-Geist was taken from a passage in the Memoirs of Lady Fanshaw, which have since been given to the public, and received with deserved approbation.

The original runs as follows. Lady Fanshaw, shifting among her friends in Ireland, like other sound loyalists of the period, tells her story thus:

From thence we went to the Lady Honor O'Brien's, a lady that went for a maid, but few believed it. She was the youngest daughter of the Earl of Thomond. There we staid three nights-the first of which I was surprised at being laid in a chamber, where, when about one o'clock, I heard a voice that awakened me. I drew the curtain, and in the casement of the window I saw, by the light of the moon, a woman leaning through the casement into the room, in white, with red hair and pale and ghastly complexion. She spoke loud, and in a tone I had never heard, thrice, "A horse;" and then, with a sigh more like the wind than breath, she vanished, and to me her body looked more like a thick cloud than substance. I was so much frightened that my hair stood on end, and my night-clothes fell off. I pulled and pinched your father, who never awoke during the disorder I was in, but at last was much surprised to see me in this fright, and more so when I related the story and showed him the window opened. Neither of us slept any more that night; but he entertained me by telling me how much more these apparitions were common in this country than in England; and we concluded the cause to be the great superstition of the Irish, and the want of that knowing faith which should defend them from the power of the devil, which he exercises among them very much. About five o'clock the lady of the house came to see us, saying, she had not been in bed all night, because a cousin O'Brien of hers, whose ancestors had 'owned that house, had desired her to stay with him in his chamber, and that he died at two o'clock; and she said, I wish you to have had no disturbance, for 'tis the custom of the place, that when any of the family are dying, the shape of a woman appears every night in the window until they be dead. This woman was many ages ago got with child by the owner of this place, who murdered her in his garden, and flung her into the river under the window; but truly I thought not of it when I lodged you here, it being the best room in the house! We made little reply to her speech, but disposed ourselves to be gone suddenly.'

NOTE 5.-SENSIBILITY OF PAIN, p. 305

Such an expression is said to have been used by Mandrin, the celebrated smuggler, while in the act of being broken upon the wheel. This dreadful punishment consists in the executioner, with a bar of iron, breaking the shoulderbones, arms, thigh-bones, and legs of the criminal, taking his alternate sides. The punishment is concluded by a blow across the breast, called the coup de grâce, because it removes the sufferer from his agony. When Mandrin received the second blow over the left shoulder-bone he laughed. His confessor inquired the reason of demeanour so unbecoming his situation. I only laugh at my own folly, my father,' answered Mandrin, who could suppose that sensibility of pain should continue after the nervous system had been completely deranged by the first blow.'