to save himself, and speed his flight | wander far from its bounds; and, in from dangers that she dare not name; from snares so hideous, that her recreant speech denied her utterance. The hapless maid of Lochlin perceiving her betrothed lover regarding her with a look of pity and incredulity, as if he attributed her unconnected words to a defect of reason, and being startled by a distant sound of a huntsman's horn, as if they were preparing for the chase, she exclaimed, in an agonizing transport, "Delay! delay not. Sheltered behind that woody hill, an ambush lies ready to assail thee; and the signal for the rapid onset is the tremendous blast blown from a martial clarion. Haste! away! leave me; look not on me; nor let thy gaze fill me with utter shame. Go, save thy life, and my poor father from a wretched deed." Agandecca then rushed into the thicket of the forest, accompanied by her page, and left Fingal overwhelmed with surprise at the perfidy of Starno. He now comprehended the mystery of the fatal cup, and its baneful purpose, and prayed heaven to reward the faithful constancy and heroic virtue of Agandecca, with a happy termination of her woes, than the aspect of present appearances made him expect would be her lot. He had always held Starno fickle and revengeful; but never framed his thoughts to suppose that he was capable of contriving an act of base deliberate murder. Ullin now approached the monarch, to inform him that the king of Lochlin awaited his arrival with extreme impatience. But again he implored Fingal not to allow the deceitful smile of hollow friendship to betray him. The king of Morven replied, that he was now aware of the malignant intentions of his disembling foe, and instructed him to bid his followers prepare for other sport than hunting the tusky boar, and to assemble in as great a number as the shortness of the notice would allow them to collect, near to the woody hill that he pointed out to Ullin's notice-not to particular, to mark the sound of a shrill clarion as a signal to defend themselves and their sovereign from a plot as treacherous as ever was formed by mortal brain. The faithful Ullin flew with haste, urged by love for his prince, and terror and astonishment at what he had heard, to collect their trusty friends at the appointed spot, and then waited the signal of onset. The queen of Lochlin, whom the oppression of present sorrow and apprehension of more direful woes to ensue, had forbid the soothing oblivion of sleep, arose when royal Starno sat off to the forest, with his nobles and other attendants on his sacred person, and repaired to the apartment of Agandecca, whom she longed with maternal tenderness to meet, and endeavour to pour the balm of comfort into her bosom, which was sorely wounded with the barbed arrows of affliction. But alas! the apartment was desolate; and she perceived, by the sumptuous couch, that the forlorn mourner had not been in bed that night. From the attendant ladies she could only learn, that the princess had dismissed them at her usual hour, but had refused their services to disrobe her, which excited in them neither alarm nor surprise, as she had often given that order when she chose to amuse her mind by reading, or in the attainment of some elegant accomplishment. The wretched mother soon foreboded where her hapless child had directed her steps, and quickly repaired to the forest with a few attendants. Agandecca, whose apprehensions and heartfelt anxiety, had forbid her leav ing the forest, was soon discovered by her mother, pacing in wretched anguish between the trees, wringing her hands, and tearing the luxuriant tresses from her head. She beheld her parent, and clinging round her neck, exclaimed, “ Ŏ, I am here, and lost, abandoned by heaven and earth; but it was to save my lover and my father. Heaven will not condemn me sure for striving to pre 65 vent enormous guilt. And yet my vow! Even now the snares are laid. Soon will the summons sound for those horrid deeds, that shall seal in blood and ratify the doom of Agandecca." At this moment the clarion echoed with shrill notes through the forest. Instantly the din of arms could be distinguished, and a furious shouting, with mingled shrieks of anguish and of terror. Several of the warriors, in deep conflict, or pursuit of the flying foes, passed by the spot where the hapless fair ones stood. Agandecca, unable to bear the sight, fainted in the arms of her attendants. She recovered from her swoon just as the high priest entered, shouting, with awful and terrific voice, that Lochlin was fallen, betrayed by treason to destruction, and imploring heaven to heap curses and avenging wrath on the traitor. " My father!" 66 My husband!" repeated Agandecca and the queen in tremulous voices-" Is lost," returned the priest," ruined and betrayed. His soldiers fled; they rose against an unexpected force, that now pursues them with fierce ungoverned rage. "But Fingal," exclaimed the princess, "be will never lift his arm against my father's life." The high priest remarked that the king of Morven could not restrain his men from taking their wished revenge. "I will save my father," said Agandecca; "me they will not slay. I'll perish but I'll save him." Frantic, she rushed towards the place from whence the din of arms proceeded. In vain the queen and high priest implored her, who knew she rushed on destruction; they could not keep pace with her steps, which bounded with the swiftness of the rein-deer. Unhappily, the first person she encountered was her father, who was endeavouring to save himself from the victorious bands of Fingal by flight. He cursed her for a traitress, and plunged his reeking sword into her bosom and the maid of Lochlin fell. The fatal news reached the ears of the queen and high priest just as Starno joined them, exclaiming, "Now 66 let the conqueror caress his faithful bride, and thank her for her loyalty and zeal." "Cruel deed! Thou hast slain thy daughter, thy only child," said the now repenting priest. "Nay," returned Starno, "I bave slain the bride of proud Fingal-a traitress, stained with foul disloyalty." "Rather say," rejoined the minister of Odin, "the pride and hope of harrassed Lochlin." Starne plunged the steel, stained with the blood of Agandecca, into the priest's heart. "Perish, fiend," said the frantic monarch; “ thou didst incite me to this rueful deed; now follow my child." Fingal's entrance now gave another turn to Starno's thoughts. He besought the youth to finish his now hated existence. "Infatuated king," replied Fingal, "judge not of me as of thyself, live and repent." "Nay, but I will compel thee," said Starno. "Behold that weapon, it blushes with the blood of Agandecca. This arm drove the vindictive blade into her breast." This deprived the king of Morven of all respect to Starno's life; and they were about to engage in combat, when the dying Agandecca entered, led by the sorrowing queen, and the little page, who had been to seek her. The princess reminded Fingal of his promise; and the youth dropt his sword, urging in his defence, the greatness of the provocation. The wretched father knelt to his child for pardon. Agandecca pronounced her forgiveness from her soul, and besought him to take comfort. But the despairing monarch darting from her presence, hastened to an adjacent precipice, from which he plunged into its vast abyss, and finished his career of guilt. Agandecca, reclining on the bosom of her mother, and supported by Fingal, breathed her last sigh, and her pure spirit flew to realms of bliss. Fingal erected a stately monument to her memory on the fatal spot; and the fair damsels of the north annually assemble, and deck it with wreath of flowers, while they weep the hapless fate of the Maid of Lochlin. This ballad is translated (but with such alterations and additions, that it may almost be called original) from the fragment of a romance, sung in Goethe's opera of "Claudina von Villa Bella." FREDERICK leaves the land of France, On the scene of former pleasure. Keen to prove his untried blade, Lovely Alice wept alone; Mourn'd o'er love's fond contract torn, As the village bell struck four. Far from her, and far from France, As the tongue of yonder tower, Told the fourth, the fated hour? Starts the steed, and snuffs the air, Bristles high the rider's hair, Struck with strange mysterious fears. Desperate, as his terrors rise, In the steed the spur he hides; Seven long days, and seven long nights, Dark the seventh sad night descends; Where his head shall Frederick hide? Fast his steed the wanderer bound; Down a ruin'd staircase, slow Next his darkling way he wound. Long drear vaults before him lie! Glimmering lights are seen to glide! "Blessed Mary hear my cry! Deign a sinner's step to guide !"Often lost their quivering beam, Still the lights move slow before, Till they rest their ghastly gleam, Right against an iron door. Thundering voices from within, Mix'd with peals of laughter, rose : As they fell, a solemn strain Lent its wild and wondrous close! Midst the din, he seem'd to hear Voice of friends, by death removed ; Well he knew that solemn air, 'Twas the lay that Alice loved. Hark! for now a solemn knell Four times on the still night broke ; But a funeral's form it wore! All with black the board was spread, Girt by parent, brother, friend, Long since numbered with the dead! Alice in her grave clothes bound, Ghastly smiling points a seat; All arose with thundering sound; All the expected stranger grect. High their meagre arms they wave, Wild their notes of welcome swell; "Welcome, traitor, to the grave! "Perjured, bid the light farewell!"— MUCH has been said by various sagacious critics, on the system so generally adopted by the German Romance writers of introducing scenes of diabolical agency into their tales, which, although they are generally seized upon by the reader with the utmost avidity, and usually prove of the most intense interest, yet they are of opinion that they tend to demoralize the mind, and enervate the understanding. It is not our intention to controvert this popularly received opinion, (but which might easily be done), as we at present wish only to remove the stigma that has been so long attached to the German Romance writers of their being the only ones of that class who do introduce these diableries into their compositions. If we look at the productions of many authors of our own country, we shall soon find that they have not been far behind hand with their German brothers in calling into their aid all the interest to be derived from a connection with devilish agency and even the "Great Wizard of the North," in one of his late productions, has not disdained to intro.. duce a scene of this description, which fully equals (if not excels) in diabolism most of those yet produced from the German school, not excepting even the celebrated scene in Faustus, or the Masque of the Walpurgis Night on the Harz Mountains. If a writer like this, with his gigantic powers, has chosen to play with such a subject, surely we may in future cease from upbraiding the Germans in the acrimonious manner we have hitherto done, for their committal of those faults, which are committed by others in common with them. The following singularly interesting tale is to be found in the admiral novel of "Redgauntlet," where it is denominated" Wandering Willies Tale," and it is written with all that grace and power which so strongly characterizes every production of its |