'Tis sweet to hear the deep-toned organ pealing,

Sublimely sweet the choral anthem's
swell-

And sweet is music o'er the waters stealing,
From lover's lute, or Fancy's midnight

shell.

Have friends whom naught from us but
death can sever;

But sweeter far to die, beloved by thee,
Than with aught else, unloved, to live for

ever.

PALEOTTI.

A TALE OF TRUTH.

BY MRS. CRAWFORD.

E. J.

THE notes of busy preparation had been heard for many days sounding through the old halls and tapestry chambers of Alton, the ancient seat of the Duke of Shrewsbury. Mrs. Collins, the aged housekeeper, with her faded tabby silk gown pinned up behind, and fly cap perched a-top of the cushion, over which her silver locks were most carefully strained, was up with the grey dawn, to set her maidens to work. Window curtains and chair bottoms were uncovered and dusted; cobwebs, which the industrious spiders had been allowed full time to spin, brought down from their airy heights on the painted ceilings, and carved testers of the antique bedsteads while the choicest flowers the gardens could

Sweet is the summer-song of bird and bee-produce, had been arranged in the oriental
Sweet is the rustling of the leafy grove;
But sweetest far of all sweet sounds to me
Is thy sweet voice, my Rosabel-my love.

vases, on the high mantel-piece in the state drawing-room, to make (as Mistress Collins said to Nelly, the housemaid) a sweet smell for his lordship.

But, alas! the flowers faded, and his grace came not, to enjoy the treat prepared for his patrician nose. At length, one evening, as the indefatigable old lady was standing on tiptoe to place some fresh exotics in those same China beaupots, the sound of carriagewheels was heard in the avenue. 'Twas a miracle the good woman did not throw down the rich porcelain, in the hurry of her joy. Away waddled she, like a mother duck after its brood, unpinning her gown, and smoothing down her large sprigged muslin apron, as

she went.

It was indeed the duke; but not alone came he. Alighting from his chariot, he handed out a lady dressed in a splendid foreign habit, with a long veil, nearly covering the whole of her person. The housekeeper stood aghast, the young maidens peeping behind her; while the little, portly, red-nosed butler opened his molish-looking eyes wider

than seemed prudent for their own safety or own maid. She had been the friend and comfort. If any thing, however, could have confidante of her young mistress for many moved the old housekeeper to drop her he- years; and with a heart glowing like her reditary dislike to everything not strictly skin, and a temper as unclouded as her own English, it would have been the fair creature Italian skies, she was a valuable and gay, that was now presented to her as her future though humble, companion to the duchess, in mistress. The rich glow of modesty, that a land of strangers.

clung with true childish delight; for Agnes was a Roman Catholic in the most rigid sense, and the little forms and mystic observances of her faith often raised the laugh against her amongst the servants, and sent her angry and almost weeping to her mistress's chamber, wondering at the impudence and arraigning the ignorance of the English, in denying the right of the pope to burn, imprison, and utterly destroy, all who did not acknowledge him as the supreme lord of the souls and bodies of all Christian people.

lighted up a most lovely and ingenuous coun- Agnes, however, was not so soon reconciltenance, showed to advantage those fine fea-ed to English habits and English manners as tures rarely seen but in the classic land of her mistress. She had not a husband's afsong; and the tones of her low sweet voice, fection to make up for absent friends, and when she spoke, finished the charm of femi-banish all remembrance of lovely Italy, with nine perfection. its moonlight serenades, delicious fruits, and That the domestics were loud in their religious pageants, to which latter her heart praises of the beauty of their new mistress, cannot be denied; but still, she was a foreigner, and of course a papist, and in those days, when the ancient family of Talbot boasted the ducal dignity, immediately following, as they did, the abdication of the second James, I need hardly remind my reader, that popery was (and not without reason) in exceedingly evil odor. Mrs. Collins, with a solemn visage, assured the butler it was a thing not to be tolerated in a Christian country. Ah, Mr. Amos!" sighed the old lady; "“'twas an ill wind that blew our young lord over seas to the popish country. We shall have nothing, I count me, now, but a lot of outlandish trumpery, coming to turn the old castle inside out. I wonder if she will have a father confessor. Lord bless us! that things should come to such a pass, and all for the sake of a pretty face, for I'll warrant she had not a guinea's value to her fortune."

66

"Indeed you say very right, Mrs. Collins," echoed the old butler: "things have come to a pretty pass. What would the old lord say, if he could look out of his grave? And I'm sure 'tis enough to make him, to see the duke taking a wife from among these papishes, when so many fine ladies in his own country would have been half wild with joy to have got him for a husband. What will poor Lady Constance say to it? And pretty Miss Polly Talbot, that told me she loved her cousin better than her own brother? I reckon they'll none of them look very sweet upon my lord's foreign wife."

This, and much more, passed between the two old servants, as they sate at supper in the housekeeper's room, while the inferior domestics as freely, and not a whit more charitably, handled the subject in the servants' hall, expressing their fears that foreigners would be coming, to turn them all out of their places.

Before we introduce the new duchess to the gaping congregation, assembled at the parish church of Alton on the following Sunday, to take notes, not of the sermon, but the thousand and one items that make up the catalogue of the bride's paraphernalia, we will just take a glance at events anterior to the duke's union with the gentle Magdaline.

Beneath the glowing canopy of an Italian sky, and sheltered amidst groves of orange and bowers of myrtle, love may not wreathe more lasting garlands than he does in our own cold climate, under the shade of the sweet though not costly hawthorn. But to the romantic mind, the same object will appear more attractive, when dressed by the lavish hand of sentiment, and sparkling in the gems of refined beauty. Such, at least, were the feelings of the handsome and elegant Duke of Shrewsbury, when he sate gazing, amid the sweet scenery of an Italian landscape, upon the beautiful and half-averted face of Magdaline de Paleotti.

The duke had often been caught in the toils of beauty in his own country: but the casual meetings at a ball, or party, with all the cold ceremonies, matter-of-fact conversation, and heartless imagery, that surrounded an English belle, threw such a damp over the newlyawakened fire, that, before his heart had become sufficiently ignited to boast of a steady But in this they neither did justice to them. flame, "Love's young dream" had vanished. selves, nor their lord. The duke knew the But now, amidst scenes lovely as the fabled value of English servants, of whom to this Arcady, o primeval Eden, in the land of day, it may be said, none are so cleanly, poesy and the very region of song, love stole none look so respectable, and none, perhaps, upon him with the looks of a syren; nor did are so impudent. The greatest propriety he, till too late, attempt to shut his eyes. In marked the actions of his grace in all things: delightful rambles among the Elysian garand love, powerful as he had found it, would dens of the palazzo de Paleotti, or the still never have made him its slave, in those points breathing ruins of departed genius, he could which right feeling and reason could not have wandered away his days with the tender sanction. One Italian servant, therefore, was Magdaline. The midnight dance, the moonall that ever formed a part of his domestic light serenade, the purfumed billet, and costestablishment; and that was Magdaline's ly love-token, engrossed all his waking

thoughts, and gave to his dreams a rosy co-coming Duchess of Shrewsbury, the marquis loring, like the skies under which he wooed. strained a point to entertain the Duke with Thus, all external circumstances combined to unwonted splendor and hospitality. Yet, unkeep up the thermometer of love, and to throw such a halo over the person of his mistress, as almost to deify as lovely a personification of womanly delicacy and grace, as ever rose from the magic touch of a Phidias or Praxiteles.

Magdaline lost both her parents when a child; and having been placed in a convent to be educated, she had imbibed such a pensive cast of countenance, and so meditative a turn of mind, from her long sojourn with the pale sisterhood, that her young and gayer friends often called her the little nun. She had no near tie but her brother, the Marquis de Paleotti,* over whose household she reigned mistress, rendering to him, however, the respect of a daughter, rather than the usual observances of a sister.

Ferdinand, Marquis de Paleotti, was a colonel in the imperial army, and the military costume accorded well with the bold and chivalrous air that characterized his figure, which in height was majestic, and in proportion symmetrical, with a head and face of true Italian contour and beauty. Still there was a something in his dark eye that the heart recoiled from. Its shape, its brilliancy, few could match, even in that land of fine eyes: but the expression savored not of the sweet charities of life, and the keen glance of suspicion was rarely exchanged for one of a kindlier nature. His temper, spoiled by the indulgence of inferiors in his childhood, and his pride, inflated by the flattery of parasites in his riper years, rendered him obnoxious to all counsel, and impatient of all control; so that few ventured to rouse the sleeping lion, that always seemed ready to start from its light slumbers.

der the mask of a flimsy courtesy, Paleotti concealed the bitter feelings of a narrow and envious heart towards his noble guest, as the possessor of wealth and virtues beyond his own attainment.

It will appear strange, that with no one to consult but himself, the duke delayed making proposals of marriage to the fair Italian. The fact was, there existed in his candid and enlightened mind, a strongly rooted objection to the religion Magdaline professed, which was that of the church of Rome. Different faiths appeared to him as inadmissable, in the marriage state, as different interests; and to kneel at the same altar, as indispensable as to repose upon the same couch, or to partake at the same board.

Shrewsbury tried to reason with himself, or rather, to unreason his mind, and suffer love to be the umpire: but it would not do. Religion had worked in his young heart, before the world had a voice in it; and God's holy word, delivered like oracles from the lips of parent and preceptor, had become a law to him; and to act against that law every feeling of his heart revolted. He could have laid down his life for Magdaline; but to renounce his faith was impossible. What could he do in such a dilemma ? Fly? how fly from the only woman he had ever really loved, and who loved him in return? for Shrewsbury could not be blind to the tender passion which lighted up the face of Magdaline, at his approach, with life and bloom, and cast a shade over her beautiful features, when he pronounced his English "good night."

To fly, however, he at length determined, after many a sleepless night passed in the struggles of love against conscience; when, happily for his eternal repose, the latter triumphed. The day before the duke was to leave Rome, a grand masqued ball was to be given at the palazzo de Paleotti, in honor of the birthday of a young Neopolitan heiress, to whom the marquis was paying his addresses.

The Duke of Shrewsbury, with all the open frankness of a good nature, and the amiable unsuspiciousness of a mind that "thinks men honest if they seem but so," was no congenial | companion for such a man as Paleotti; and, but for Magdaline, they never would have joined hands in amity together: but the Marquis knew full well the value of such a suitor With an aching heart the duke submitted for his sister. The alliance was one that himself to the hands of his valet that evening, flattered his pride, and gratified his selfish- on which he was to enjoy the society of the ness. The wealth of his brother-in-law fair Magdaline for the last time: and the would be very serviceable to him, as his plea- business of the toilet being despatched, he sures and extravagant style of living had al-proceeded to the palazzo, which he found brilready made shipwreck of the greater part of the considerable estates that fell to him at his father's death. A friendly purse to draw upon was thus an object to Paleotti, till such time as his union with some rich maiden might enable him to launch out again into that princely style, in which his proud spirit loved to display itself.

In the hope, therefore, of Magdaline's be

liantly illuminated, and thronged with mas ques, in all the gorgeous and varied costume which taste and fancy could suggest.

To do justice to the scene that presented itself to the eye of Shrewsbury on entering the marble halls of the palazzo, the imagination of the reader must go back to the legendary lore of the nursery, and embody, with breathing life, the dramatis persone of the fairy entertainments in the enchanted palaces of their delightful revels, that made our young eyes to glisten with delight, and the roof of our play room to echo with the joyous glee such tales inspired.

In the numerous apartments of the palazzo,

set apart for the reception of company, all discourse. In one of them she quickly rethat art could furnish or wealth procure had cognised Shrewsbury's. "Well," said his been tastefully brought together. The rich companion, whom by his accent she knew to velvets of Genoa, and the bright silks of Bar-be English, "I am ready to start when you celona, covered the walls: vases of the purest please: but I confess your going so suddenly alabaster, with their delicate wrought group-is a surprise upon me. I thought you never ings, that looked as if a breath would dissolve could have made up your mind to leave the them, were filled with the gayest and most fair Magdaline.” fragrant flowers; statues of Parian marble, "The task was no easy one, I assure you, seen at intervals between the fluted Corin- Clifford," said the duke; "but our faiths dithian pillars, from which hung garlands of vide us; and 'tis best not to delay the partliving roses and myrtle, contrasting beautiful-ing, but to fly while I can." ly with the chaste pale wreathings of undying art; lamps of transparent beauty, throwing a sort of moonlight softness over the exquisite coloring of a Titian, a Claude, or a Guido; the sound of music, floating upwards from the different instruments and voices, all delightfully blended in one harmonious whole; while the graceful figures of the women, sparkling in gems, and gliding about with the noiseless steps of sylphs,* completed the enchantment of the scene.

In an instant the whole truth flashed upon the mind of Magdaline. Her religion then was the barrier to her hopes-the separating line between Shrewsbury and herself! But for that, she might have been his wife. Her cheek became pale-her heart died within her; and leaning her head against a pillar, she closed her eyes, and remained motionless, and totally unconscious of the duke's presence; who, after parting from Clifford, had entered the temple, and stood gazing upon her with looks of ineffable love and admiration. What a contrast did her sad and inanimate countenance present to the life and splendor of her gala costume! And yet, as Shrewsbury contemplated the fair creature, the light of a brilliant moon shining full upon her, how strongly did he feel the pride with which he would have led her forth to the world as his acknowledged bride! Her dark curls, bright and glossy, flashed with innumerable gems; her white arms and delicate waist were wreathed and clasped with brilliants; and her little foot, with its embroidered shoe and silver sandal, realizing the fabled Cinderella's, gave her altogether, as she sate in the moonlit temple, the appearance of some beautiful enchantress in the crystal halls of fairy land.

Though all wore masks, the eye of the lover soon distinguished the bright and elegant figure of Magdaline, moving amid the groups of Italian beauties that surrounded him yet the duke kept at a distance from his fair mistress. He felt that he had too long indulged in those little gallantries, which the latitude of foreign manners encouraged, and his own romantic mind too readily fell in with. Magdaline, however, accustomed as she was to the idle gallantry of her countrymen, would have thought nothing of the duke's attentions, had not his eyes (honest English eyes) breathed far more than his lips, and given importance even to the gift of a flower, or the words of a simple song. Poor Magdaline saw that the duke avoided joining her that evening, though his eye followed all her movements: and once, as she passed him, she heard him audibly sigh. A change so sudden, so unexpected, alarmed her affection. The gay scene became oppressive to her: and seeking an opportunity, she stole away; and retiring to a distant part of the garden, entered a little temple dedicated to Apollo. Sitting down, and taking off her mask, the delightful coolness of the night breeze, as it stole through the gilded lattice, laden with the odours of the citron and the orange blossoms, revived her; though still a heavy weight hung upon her spirit. She began to review the past; to “No, signora,” said the duke: “it must be recall every sentiment or word she had utter-now-to-morrow I leave Rome." ed to the duke; for that she had offended him Magdaline's heart was too full for speech. was beyond a doubt.-Ah! how little do men She permitted Shrewsbury to lead her back consider, while pursuing the selfish gratifica- to the seat; where placing himself beside tion of their feelings, by making some gentle girl the object of their temporary devotion, what a dark cloud they are preparing for those sunny eyes, that look up to them so trustingly; or what a cruel blight may fall upon the hopes and wishes of an innocent heart, whose only fault is "love."

While Magdaline was thus employed, she heard two voices near the temple in earnest

The Italian women are remarkable for the grace and delicacy of their movements.

Hardly sensible that he was speaking, the duke sighed out the name of " Magdaline," at which she started, and feeling the impropriety of her situation, rose up to go away. "Stay, sweet Magdaline!" said the duke, taking her hand. "I have waited for an opportunity like this all the evening. I would speak to you: I would explain some things, that may have appeared changeable in my conduct."

"Some other time," said Magdaline, hurriedly.

her, he stated at large the struggles he had undergone, in opposing the wishes of his heart, to dedicate himself and his fortunes to her service. He painted, with all the eloquence of true love, the ardent affection he felt for her: and then broke out into such a fervid strain of elevated piety, as he enlarged most delicately upon the difference in their faiths, that Magdaline sobbed aloud. An hour passed in this sweet, though painful manner, and then they parted from each other-parted in silence and in tears.

Magdaline retired to her chamber, and the | after a formal renunciation of the Romish duke to his hotel, both more firmly convinced creed, she became the wife of Shrewsbury.* of the congeniality of their hearts and minds, It did not require much entreaty to prevail and both believing that life had nothing left, upon Paleotti to forgive the marriage of his comparable to the object which they had, for sister with one of the noblest peers of England; a point of conscience, given up for ever. although, to accomplish it, she had flown in Having thrown off her gay attire, and stripped the face of "holy mother church;" and the her dark tresses of their jewelled ornaments, duke, with his young bride, set out on his reMagdaline retired to her pillow; but sleep turn to his native land, happier than he had she could not. Thought followed thought-believed he should ever again have set foot tear followed tear. At length, towards the upon its sea-washed shores. hour when she usually rose to matins, a disturbed slumber came over her, presenting the bright visions of past happiness, darkened by those gloomy shadowings of future evil, with which the dreams of the unhappy are ever clouded.

Thus having conducted the happy pair from Germany to England, we take up the thread we had dropped in the netting of events, and join the noble bride and bridegroom at the church porch, on the beforementioned Sunday, when the blushing MagBut to hasten the dénouement of this tale of daline was to make her appearance as Duchlove. The duke having departed with his ess of Shrewsbury. To run the gauntlet of a friend to Germany, Magdaline underwent a first introduction to the world, as a bride, was variety of trials, from the joint disappoint- truly distressing to a delicate young female, ment of her own hopes, and those of her in those days when women were more chary brother. The rage and mortification of the of being looked upon than now. With eyes marquis were unbounded, when he found that fixed upon the ground, Magdaline passed on the duke had actually left Rome, without to her pew, her fair face crimsoning with the making proposals to Magdaline; who in vain thought, that all the Argus-eyed matrons and endeavored to excuse Shrewsbury's conduct sharp-nosed spinsters in the church were on the plea of his religion-a plea that Pa- turning their keen glances of criticism upon leotti held in the greatest contempt. Though her. And busily enough (despite their the essence of Christianity could never imbue prayers) went they to work, to see if a tooth a nature so compounded of evil passions, more was too long, or a nose too short; a cheek too particularly of that one, of all others the most white, or a hand not white enough. None of offensive-pride; yet habit and early ingraft- these things, however, could they discover, ed superstition made Paleotti cling, with when her Grace, standing up, enabled them something like devotion, to the outward to take shorthand notes, to help the memory, pomps and ceremonies of the Romish church. in the discharge of their retail duties from Thus Magdaline, unhappy in her home, and house, after divine service. Having failed to divided from the only being she had ever discover anything sufficiently glaring in her found to be all her romantic heart could face or figure to unduchess her, they set to truly love, was thrown back upon her own work in other ways; and Lady Constance mind for resources, from whence to gather having heard from her maid what the duchcomfort and consolation. Day after day, and ess's woman had told her, (for poor Agnes, hour after hour, she pondered upon all the like most of the guardians of the toilet and duke had said to her respecting their differ- pincushion, dearly loved a little friendly gosent faiths. She read over and over the books sip,) the news soon flew about, like a buzzing that he had given her upon religion. Per- bee, to every year, that the fair Italian had plexed, and torn contrary ways, she next had renounced her religion for a coronet and a recourse to her confessor; but Father Anto-coach-and-six. nio gave her little comfort, telling her to ban- old lady mothers: "How shocking!" cried ish all thoughts of the duke, as an alien from the disappointed daughters; all of whom the true faith. He bid her pray to the saints would have given up their religion, and everyand holy martyrs, for grace to overcome her thing else, for such a husband and set of jewels unhappy passion; and gave her strict injunc- as Magdaline possessed. Nevertheless, after tions to perform certain oblationary penances some further sage talk with their maids, they and fasts, and to come to him to solve all all came to a better train of thought; and it those things her tender age rendered her in- was pronounced to be in no way degrading capable of comprehending. Poor Magdaline to insinuate themselves into the friendship of wept and prayed, fasted and did penance; the new duchess, who had a handsome brothand wept again, to find all unavailing. But, er, a marquis, and a colonel in the imperial not to enlarge upon the subject, suffice it to army. Besides, the wedding festivities would say, that Magdaline at last made up her mind bring many a gallant and noble young gento renounce that faith, which separated her tleman to the duke's hospitable mansion. from the duke, and to become a member of Country pastimes and rural scenes were prothe Protestant church. And here we wish we could draw a veil over the only blot that

"How dreadful!" said the

history can record, in the unsullied page of *The Duke of Shrewsbury, being at Rome, fell Magdaline's life: but truth obliges us to con- in love with the sister of Paleotti, whom he marceal nothing. Let it be understood, ther, that ried, after she had renounced the Roman Catholic disguised in the dress of a peasant girl, Mag-religion. The duke held many situations, amongst daline fled to Augsburgh in Germany; where, others that of Lord Lieutenant of Ireland,