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AMONG the romantic mountains of the Vortenburgh in Swabia, there is a little streamlet, well known by the name of the Swan's Pool, which is reported to possess the power of restoring or perpetuating female beauty. Its efficacy, however, is confined to the fairies, or their descendants, who are accustomed to pay an annual visit to the pool; and in the shape of swans, with a light gossamer veil flowing down their necks, to bathe in its limpid waters, and renew their personal attrac→

tions.

On the banks of the lake was erected a simple hermitage, as remarkable for the beauty of its situation, as for the virtues of the anchoret who inhabited it. He was a man who had resided there for many years, and though his name was unknown to all, he procured universal respect for the patriarchal simplicity of his life. He had formed the hermitage himself, reared the most beautiful shrubberies around it, and raised a plantation of flowers, interspersed with delicious vineyards. The natural amenity of his manners ingratiated him strongly with the mountain peasants, who had recourse to him on every emergency where advice or consolation was needed, and, in return for his kindness, presented him with all

the comforts, and many of the superfluities of life. But there was one circumstance in his general conduct that was food for the astonishment of his neighbours. At sunrise, whether the winds were abroad, or the rain fell in torrents, he was always discovered in tears by the banks of the lake, with his eyes raised to heaven, and his hands clasped in an attitude of the deepest devotion. Many were the conjectures respecting this singular conduct; but at last, after mature deliberations, a synod of the villagers came to the sage opinion, that it was a very extraordinary circumstance.

It happened one summer's evening, when the last rays of the setting sun had tinged the lake with a faint reflection of its light, that a young Swabian peasant, who had escaped the slaughter of his countrymen, when their territories were laid waste by the Austrians, arrived at the hermitage, and entreated the protection of its venerable owner. He was received with a hearty welcome, and after remaining a few days, was invited to take up his final residence at the cottage. This request was cheerfully complied with; Brenno, for that was the name of the young soldier, had met with numerous misfortunes; and unwilling, from past experience, to en

counter more, resolved to quit the world for ever, and assume the dress and behaviour of an anchoret. Every succeeding day increased the friendship of the hermit for his young companion. He accompanied him in all his rambles, ministered to him in his sorrows, and assisted him by his advice and consolation. Such intimacy at last produced a perfect confidence on both sides, and soon the hermit acquainted Brenno with all the particulars of his past life. At the season of the equinox, the natural kindliness of his manner seemed chilled into a gloomy reserve; and he never failed to send Brenno to the extremity of the pool, to ascertain whether any swans made their appearance on it surface. If the flight was numerous, the hermit, to the infinite surprise of his companion, seemed greatly elated in health and spirits ; but when none appeared, he grew more gloomy and discontented.

One morning while Brenno was keeping his annual watch by the side of the pool, he observed a vast number of swans alight on the surface, a circumstance which he immediately related to the hermit. The old man was enraptured; he bestowed unusual commendation on the vigilance of Brenno, and desired him to prepare a supper, with an extra modicum of wine. The glass went cheerily round, the reserve of age gradually wore off before its exhilirating effects, and the good father grew remarkably loquacious: he laid aside his accustomed sanctity, hymned songs in praise of his long-neglected deity, Bacchus; and with eyes that sparkled with unwonted vivacity, related to his protege some of the principal occurrences of his life. He informed him of the peculiar properties of the swan's pool, of the beautiful fairies who paid their annual visit to the stream, and of the mode to be adopted in ensnaring them. "I was myself," continued the aged narrator, "in love with one whom I encountered at her father's palace in Bohemia; but she

died from the jealousy of her parents, who refused to permit her visit to the pool, and I resolved to pass the rest of my life in a spot which had once been honoured with her presence. She was lovely as the summer rose, and grateful as the earliest breath of morning; but she faded in the spring of her days, and has left me for ever inconsolable. But you, my young friend, who are yet in the morning of your life, may succeed where I failed. where I failed. By annually watching at the magic pool, you may see the beautiful swans lay aside their gossamer veils, and assume the appearance of virgins, lovely as the warmest imagination can conceive. Select the one most agreeable to your fancy; mark where she deposits her veil when she bathes in the Bath of Beauty, seize it, and the virgin will be unable to reassume the appearance of a swan, till the magic texture is restored to her. You may, perhaps, be surprised at the existence of these etherial spirits. Tradition reports, that they once lived with man in familiar intercourse; till sin degraded his character, and compelled his fairy companions to return to their native heaven. But their descendants still flourish on earth, and partake of the sensibilities of human nature, with the privilege of immortal youth obtained by an annual visit to the magic pool. This visit occupies them but a few days; and if at the time of the equinox, when the sun is high in heaven, and the mountain shadows lengthen along the glassy surface of the pool, you seize the veil which will be deposited by its side, a fairy will be your prize. Never let her know the theft, but endeavour to win her heart by gentleness, and she will make you an exemplary wife. Ever blooming in youth and beauty, when you fade into the tomb, she will be still lovely, and remain as a tender evergreen mourning upon a new-sodded grave. Years have gone by since the bright form of my fairy virgin withered in the silent tomb. She was prevented from visiting the pool, and lost its pri

vileges. But her form is ever before me; it steals upon me in the night season; and consoles me with the prospect of our union. At day-break I wander to the spot where I once saw her; I there offer up my orisons to the Deity, and pray that the fond fairy who was refused to me on earth, may be restored to me in heaven. It is this alone that sheds a gleam of sunshine upon the snow of my existence. I recall the past to my mind-I think of my fairy maid-lovely -innocent as I first found her, and feel assured that she is smiling on me from above. As for my life, unconnected with my love, I look back on it as a dream that had better be forgotten, as an age spent in fruitless exertion and unavailable despondency."

It is probable that the old hermit would have continued his harangue like two parallel lines, ad infinitum, had not a snore from the musical nose of Brenno warned him that a great deal of good but lengthy morality had been wasted on a reprobate. Mortified at the somnolent effect of his eloquence, and astonished at such symptoms of bad taste in his auditor, he reluctantly prepared to follow his example; and having finished a brace of Te Deums, to which the clerkly snout of his companion furnished an "Amen," threw himself on his couch of rushes.

His

Morning dawned; and every lark that welcomed the uprising sun was mistaken by Brenno for a swan. fancy, naturally warm and enthusiastic, for ever dwelt upon the miraculous circumstance of the beautiful birds, and their magic veils; and often would he run in ecstacy from the hermitage, when the morning cry of the raven echoed along the surface of the pool. His companion in the meantime grew daily and even hourly more indisposed. Age came upon him with all its debility; and after the lapse of a few weeks, a grave was dug by Brenno, and the corpse of his venerable friend deposited therein. His remains were interred, at his own particular request, in the spot where he

had once beheld his mistress, and the spring flowers were planted upon the turf. The village peasants lamented the death of the good man, and came in crowds to visit his tomb. They thought of his virtues, his numerous acts of benevolence, his pious disposition, and eagerly procured every relic that remained of him. Anticipating the probability of such enthusiasm, Brenno had prepared himself for the event. He cut up the staff of the hermit, and fashioned it into tooth-picks ; his sandal shoon he converted into talismans of a marvellous quality, and predicted perpetual youth from frequent application to the relics. But this popular enthusiasm soon abated; customers dropped off, and the hermitage was once more a scene of utter solitude. Brenno was not displeased with this return of tranquillity; it gave him measure to pursue his romantic scenes ; and as the time of the equinox was approaching, he wisely considered that a fairy wife would be an agreeable addition to the household furniture of the hermitage. Impressed with this judicious opinion, he made every requisite arrangement, and awaited the annual visit of the swans in a state of the greatest anxiety.

The long expected season of the equinox at last arrived, and Brenno stationed himself by the side of the pool. It was a fine summer morning; the sun was rising in the heavens, and the early dew yet glistened on the mountain precipices. A thousand feathered choristers welcomed the approach of day; and the lark was singing at heaven's gate his song of gratitude. The beauty of the scene passed, with all its cheerfulness, into the buoyant heart of Brenno; and his expectations spoke eloquently in his mantling cheeks. He had waited but a short time in his hiding place, when, from the hills of the west, came a luminous but moving appearance in the sky. He gazed at it in triumph-it approached and discovered the form of a milk-white swan, with a

gossamer veil floating gracefully down | quisite loveliness. In a voice half

its neck, and a tuft of beautiful feathers on its head. It descended from its height, dropt the veil among the rushes that fringed the banks of the pool, and plunged into the waters. On a sudden it arose, and, to the fascinated eyes of Brenno, disclosed the form of a lovely woman, beaming in all the pride of innocence. A blush was on her countenance, and her blue eye spoke of blandishment and voluptuousness. Her figure was modelled with the most exquisite symmetry; her neck and breast were bare, and rivalled even the snow in whiteness. A transparent robe was thrown negligently across her, but so thin, that every movement of her beautiful limbs was discernible through it. As she sported in ecstacy on the surface of the waters, a strain of music was heard floating gently on the gale; it echoed across the stream, and died away among the distant mountains. The youth was enraptured; he moved gently from his hiding place, and seized the magic veil. He then bore it to the hermitage, and awaited in an agony of expectation the result of his stratagem. After a short interval, a sound as of approaching footsteps was heard, and the graceful figure of a fairy stood beside him, clad in the lightest attire, and beaming in conscious loveliness. She spoke of the loss she had sustained, and implored his protection until enabled to recover her loss. The heart of the youth melted at her sorrow; and he volunteered his services in assisting her to find the veil. They went out together, they wandered along the banks of the pool; but the magic web was no where to be found, and the poor fairy was inconsolable. On returning to the hermitage, she seated herself near the latticed window, and refused every consolation. The summer breeze fanned her glossy tresses, and as her bosom palpitated with anxiety, and the warm flush of evening glowed on her countenance, her fond admirer thought that he had never yet beheld such ex

Her

choked with agitation, he implored her to discard her care, and wait in calmness till the veil should be discovered. The beautiful girl turned round at the expostulation; and as she beheld the fine form of Brenno hanging in fondness over her, the fire of conscious beauty lighted up in her eye, and love took possession of her heart. light etherial blood was incapable of lasting grief, and sorrow passed over her countenance, as the night-cloud that sails across the full-orbed moon, and obscures its light with but a transient gloom. Hopeless of recovering her veil, she gradually resigned herself to the solitude of her situation; and though a tear sometimes trembled in her eye when she thought of her friends, and wandered in the long summer evenings by the Bath of Beauty, in the hopes of regaining her treasure, she moved with a more elastic tread, and smiled on Brenno with more than usual archness.

A month had now elapsed, and found the fairy the uncomplaining victim of Brenno. She was by this time reconciled to her solitude, and never thought of her companion without a sentiment of affection for the delicacy that respected her situation. As she was one evening wandering with him on the banks of the pool, the conversation grew more than usually animated, the fairy, in answer to the tender expostulations of Brenno, informed him that her name was Zoe, and that she was the daughter of the celebrated Grecian princess, Calista of Zante. That she was paying her annual visit to the Bath of Beauty when she lost her veil ; and that the privilege of immortal youth would cease, until it was recovered. The sun had by this time sunk behind the western hills, and the bright moon came up in her virgin splendour. The heart of Brenno was softened at the sight, and he pointed out the scene to his companion. "This, love," he exclaimed," is the soft, the beauteous

hour, for ever hallowed in remembrance. It was on an evening, sweet, holy as this, you first smiled on me in fondness. That smile hath never passed away; it visits me like an angel of heaven, in the night season, and soothes my lonely hours. May I hope, my sweet girl, that the time will come, when your affection will not speak in smiles alone, but in the honeyed words of love?" He ceased, and turned on the blushing countenance of the fairy a look of the most impassioned admiration. She averted her face from his gaze; but in the soft expression of her blue eye he read all that could plead in his behalf. His frame trembled with emotion, his blood rioted in delirious ecstacy, and clasping Zoe in his arms, he imprinted a warm kiss on her cheek, the first that man had ever imprinted there. Warmed by the affection of her lover, the blushing girl confessed her affection, and promised, if he would quit the dreary solitude of the Swan's Pool, to bind herself irrevocably to him.

Every requisite was now arranged for their departure. The superstition of the neighbouring peasants had furnished the soldier with an ample sufficiency for his travels, and he prepared for his return home. On reaching the town of Meussau, in Swabia, he was recognised by his companions; and the report was carried to the reverend fathers of the town, that the valiant Brenno, escaped from the massacre of his countrymen, was returning in triumph to the scene of his nativity. The fat bailiffs of the town came out in procession to meet him; and amid the sound of trumpet and the roll of drums, Brenno and his beautiful Zoe were escorted home. The old mother welcomed her son as one that was returned from the grave; and received his virgin bride with expressions of the deepest admiration.

The evening before the intended nuptials, when the bridal festivity was preparing, and the light tones of music echoed through the vaulted apartments,

the fair Zoe busied herself with her mother-in-law in arranging her dress for the ceremony. "Oh! that I had but the light Grecian veil," she exclaimed with a sigh," then, indeed, should I be viewed with envy." "Grieve not yourself about that," replied the talkative old lady, "it is safe in my possession; my son desired me, from some unaccountable reason, to secrete it from your notice: but promise to conceal it from him, and I will restore it to its right owner." Zoe was struck dumb with astonishment; indignation at the hypocrisy of Brenno, and joy at the discovery of her veil, prevented her reply. But when she received the veil from the hands of the good matron, she threw open the window, and as the magic robe floated gracefully down her fair form, it assumed the appearance of a milk-white swan, and sailed far away into the blue distant horizon.

The old lady in her turn now stared with astonishment. She tore the few hairs that time had yet left upon her head, and when her son returned to claim his beautiful bride, taxed him with sullying the honour of his family, by marrying a she-devil in disguise. After a lengthy harangue, her enthusiasm for devotion so far conquered her reason, that she concluded by the most convincing of all arguments, a sound box on the ear. The son retorted the angry expostulations of his mother, and the noise of the quarrel brought all the neighbours in a hurry to the door. "My son," shrieked the pious matron, "has leagued himself with a she-devil.” "A she-devil!" exclaimed a little fat bailiff, "heaven defend us all.”—“ She was a Grecian lady," returned the disappointed Brenno. "A she-devil," persisted the mother." A Grecian lady," resumed the son. "Whoever she is," said the indignant bailiff," it is clear that she has escaped the clutches of the most Holy Inquisition; but whether she be a male or a female Beelzebub, or even Moloch himself, Mother Church will conjure her back

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