"Now," said the portly Gerrit van Wyck, as he buttoned up his money in the pockets of his capacious breeches,"Now I'll home to Voorbooch, and to-morrow I'll buy neighbour Jan Hagen's two cows, which are the best in Holland." He crossed the market-place of Delft, as he spoke, with an elated and swaggering air, and turned down one of the streets which led out of the city, when a goodly tavern met his eye. Thinking a dram would be found useful in counteracting the effects of a fog which was just beginning to rise, he entered, and called for a glass of Schedam. This was brought, and drank by Gerrit, who liked the flavour so much, that he resolved to try the liquor diluted. Accordingly, a glass of a capacious size was set before him. After a few sips of the pleasing spirit, our farmer took a view of the apartment in which he was sitting, and, for the first VOL. II. ર time, perceived that the only person in the room, besides himself, was a young man of melancholy aspect, who sat near the fire-place, apparently half asleep. Now Gerrit was of a loquacious turn, and nothing rendered a room more disagreeable to him than the absence of company. He, therefore, took the first opportunity of engaging the stranger in con His shoes Gerrit perceived that his companion wore a dress of dark brown, of the cut of the last century. A thick row of brass buttons ornamented his doublet; so thickly, indeed, were they placed, that they appeared one stripe of metal. were high-heeled and square-toed, like those worn by a company of maskers, 1epresented in a picture which hung in Gerrit's parlour at Voorbooch. The stranger was of a spare figure, and his countenance was, as we before stated, pale; 43 " "Tis right excellent." "You say truly," rejoined the stranger, with a smile, which the farmer thought greatly improved his countenance; "but here is a liquor which no Burgomaster in Holland can get. 'Tis fit for a prince." He drew forth a phial from the breast of his doublet, and mixing a small quantity of the red liquid it contained with some water that stood on the table, he poured it into Gerrit's empty glass. The farmer tasted it, and found it to excel every liquid he had ever drank. Its effect was soon visible: he pressed the hand of the stranger with great warmth, and swore he would not leave Delft that night. "You are perfectly right," said his companion, "these fogs are unusually heavy; they are trying, even to the constitution of a Hollander. As for me, I am nearly choked with them. How different is the sunny clime of Spain, which I have just left." "You have travelled, then ?" said Gerrit, inquiringly. "Travelled! ay, Mynheer, to the remotest corner of the Indies, amongst Turks, Jews and Tartars." "Eh, but does it please ye to travel always in that garb, Mynheer? 66 "Even so," replied the stranger, it has descended from father to son through more than three generations; see you this hole on the left breast of my doublet?" The farmer stretched out his neck, and by the dim light perceived a small perforation on the breast of the stranger's doublet, who continued "Ah, the bullet that passed through it lodged in the heart of my great grandsire at the sack of Zutphen." "I have heard of the bloody doings at that place from my grandfather, heaven rest his soul!" Gerrit was startled on perceiving the unearthly smile which played o'er the countenance of the stranger, on hearing this pious ejaculation. He muttered to himself, in an inaudible tone, the word "Duyvel!" but he was interrupted by the loud laugh of his companion, who slapped him on the shoulder, and cried "Come, come, Mynheer, you look sad-does not my liquor sit well on your stomach ?" ""Tis excellent !" replied Gerrit, ashamed to think that the stranger had observed his confusion: "will you sell me your phial ?" "I had it from a dear friend, who has been long since dead," replied the stranger, "he strictly enjoined me never to sell it, for d'ye see, no sooner is it emptied, than at the wish of the possessor it is immediately re-filled--but, harkee, as you seem a man of spirit, it shall be left to chance to decide who shall possess it." He took from his bosom a bale of dice,"I will stake it against a guilder." "Good," said Gerrit, but I fear there is some devilry in the phial.” "Pshaw !" cried his companion, with a bitter smile," those who have travelled understand these things better.-Devilry, forsooth!" "I crave your pardon," said Gerrit, I will throw for it," and he placed a guilder on the table. The farmer met with ill luck, and lost. He took a draught of his companion's liquor, and determined to stake another guilder; but he lost that also! Much enraged at his want of success, he drew forth the canvas bag which contained the produce of the sale of his corn, and resolved either to win the phial, (the contents of which had gone far to fuddle his senses,) or lose all. He threw again with better luck; but elated at this, he played with less caution, and, in a few moments, he was left pennyless. The stranger gathered up the money, and placed it in his pocket. "You are unlucky to-night, Mynheer," said he with provoking indifference, which greatly increased the farmer's chagrin; "but come, you have a goodly ring on your finger, will you not venture that against my phial ?" The farmer paused for a moment-it was the gift of an old friend-yet he could not stomach the idea of being clear ed of his money in such a manner; what would Jan Brower, the host of the Von Tromp, and little Rip Winkelaar, the schoolmaster, say to it? It was the first time he had ever been a loser in any game, for he was reckoned the best hand at nine pins in his village; he therefore took the ring from his finger,-threw again, and lost it! He sank back in his chair with a suppressed groan, at which his companion smiled. The loss of his money, together with this ring, had nearly sobered him, and he gazed on the stranger with a countenance, indicative of any thing but good will; while the latter drew.from his bosom a scroll of parchment. La "You grieve," said he, "at the loss of a few paltry guilders; but know, that I have the power to make you amends for your loss-to make you rich-ay, richer than the Statdholder!" "Ah, the fiend!" thought Gerrit, growing still soberer, while he drank in every word, and glanced at the legs of the stranger, expecting, of course, to see them as usual terminate with a cloven foot! but he beheld no such unsightly spectacle; the feet of the stranger were as perfect as his own, or even more so. Here," said his companion," read over this, and if the terms suit you, subscribe your name at the foot." The farmer took the parchment, and perceived that it was closely written, and contained many signatures at the bottom. His eye glanced hastily over the few first lines, but they sufficed. "Ha! now I know thee, fiend!" screamed the affrighted Gerrit, as he dashed the scrool in the face of the stranger, and rushed wildly out of the room, He gained the street, down which he fled with the swiftness of the wind, and turned the corner quickly, thinking he was safe from the vengeance of him, whom he now sup posed was no other than the foul fiend himself; when the stranger met him on the opposite side, his eyes dilated to a monstrous size, and glowing like red-hot coals. A deep groau burst from the surcharged breast of the unfortunate farmer, as he staggered back several paces. "Avaunt! avaunt!" he cried," Sathan, I defy thee! I have not signed thy cursed parchment !"-He turned and fled in an opposite direction; -but, though he exerted his utmost speed, the stranger, without any apparent exertion, kept by his side. At length he arrived at the bank of the canal, and leaped into a boat which was moored along side. But the stranger followed, and Gerrit felt the iron grasp of his hand on the nape of his neck. He turned round and struggled hard to free himself from the gripe of his companion, roaring out in agony "Oh, Mynheer Duyvel! have pity for the sake of my wife and my boy Karel?" But, when was the devil known to pity? The stranger held him tightly, and spite of his struggles dragged him ashore. He felt the grasp of his pursuer like the clutch of a bird of prey, while his hot breath almost scorched him; but disengaging himself, with a sudden bound he sprung from his enemy, and pitched headlong from his elbow chair on to the floor of his own room at Voorbooch. The noise occasioned by the fall of the burly Hollander aroused his affrighted helpmate from the sound slumber she had been wrapped in for more than two hours, during which time her husband had been indulging in potations deep and strong, until overpowered with the potency of his beloved liquor he had sunk to sleep in his elbow chair, and dreamed the hellish dream we have endeavoured to relate. The noise of his fall aroused his Vrow from her slumbers. Trembling in every limb on hearing the unruly sound below, she descended by a short flight of steps, screaming loudly for help against thieves, into the room where she had left her spouse when she retired to rest, and beheld Gerrit, her dear husband, prostrate on the stone floor, the table overturned, his glass broken, and the remainder of the accursed liquor flowing in a stream, from the stone bottle which lay upset on the ground. J. Y. A-N. THE TRAGEDY OF RIENZI.* We have much pleasure in being able to introduce to our readers, the following portion of Miss Mitford's splendid dramatic production, Rienzi, which we feel assured will afford every one of our readers, who are admirers of fine poetry, and powerful imagery, considerable gratification. The one, from the many highly wrought effective and impassioned scenes that this fine production abounds with, which we have chosen to enrich our colums, appears to us so perfect in itself as scarcely to require any account of the preceding action. Therefore all that is needful for us to say to elucidate the subject, is, that our selection forms so much of the fifth act, as gives the issue of the second rebellion formed to overthrow the Tribune Cola di Rienzi, and the government he had established, by the seditious nobles Colonna and Ursini, aided by partizans of their faction. SCENE-AN APARTMENT IN The Capitol. RIENZI seated at a Table.-CAMILLO and ALBERTI discovered in the front. Alb. My Lord Rienzi. [Rienzi motions them to be silent. Cam. See, he waves thee off: Trouble him not, Alberti-he is chafed, TO THE YOUNG ROSE WREATH OF Moody and fierce, as though this victory, YEARS. Guardian of the sweetest, fairest ! Till years amount to-TWENTY-ONE ! Memory's past of youth awakens, What is known of value-treasure ; To Him that makes thee-TWENTY-ONB. Spirit of the sweet and dearest ! Guardian of the best and truest! Thou who smilest when thou hearest, And pleased the virtuous viewest; Paulina's claims to-day are strongest, For deeds to do and duties done : Be this the best, if not the longest, To celebrate her-TWENTY-ONE. T. Which drove the noble mutineers before ye, As stag-hounds chase a herd of deer, had ended In blank defeat. Alb. The Tribune bore him bravely, And we are victors.-Yet the storm is hush'd, Not spent. When, after this wild night of war, The sun arose, he showed a troubled scene The Tribune totters. His hot pride-yet, sooth, He bore him gallantly. Beneath his sword Fell the dark plotter, Ursini. Cam. How fared The bold Colonna ? Alb. The old valiant chief, With many a younger pillar of that high And honoured house lies dead. Cam. And Angelo? Alb. A prisoner. As he knelt beside the corse J. Cumberland. Of his brave father, without word or blow, Cam. Lo! the Tribune! Rie. [Rising and advancing.] Now admit Your prisoners; we would see them. court For sudden execution. - Alb. [Turning back.] If a true The difficult duty of supreme command My faithful servant, an' thou wilt, my friend, Owes to this strong right hand. Be ready presently. The prisoners! Ay, Even this poor simple remnant of the wars Can lead their fickle purpose. Abject changelings! Base huggers of their chains! Methought to-day These Roman Helots would have crouch'd i' the dust At sound of their old masters' whips. have been I [Going. Rie. To death! Hold! here is one. I know no father, save the valiant dead Who lives behind a rampart of his slain] In warlike rest. I bend before no king, Save the dread Majesty of heaven. Thy foe, Thy mortal foe, Rienzi. Rie. Well! my foe. Thou hast seen me fling a pardon free as air, To foemen crouching at my feet; hast seen The treachery that paid me. I have lost My faith in man's bold eye-his earnest voice, The keen grasp of his hand, the speech where truth Seems gushing in each ardent word. I have known So many false, that, as a mariner |