doomed to suffer this gross injustice at your hand." Whether innocent or guilty, little cared Pedrarias; his victim must die, and quickly. Four of his comrades were condemned to be beheaded with him.

7. The appointed day broke dark and gloomy over Acla. At an early hour the dull strokes of the carpenter's hammer were heard in the plaza, where scaffolding was being erected for the bloody work. Groups of men and women gathered at the corners of the streets, and in subdued but earnest tones, recounted the bold achievements of the men now doomed to die. The cold, dismal, murky atmosphere was not more joyless than the heavy hearts of those who thus talked of these strange doings. At length, the condemned were led forth. First came Vasco Nuñez, with firm step and lofty bearing. Fire flashed from his eye, and a flush of indignation crimsoned his cheek as he beheld the preparations made for his ignominious death.

8. Before him marched the town crier, who, as he reached the scaffold exclaimed in a loud voice, "Behold the usurper; a man recreant to his trust, disloyal to his king, and unfaithful to his governor!" ""Tis false!" cried Vasco Nuñez. "Never have I harbored a disloyal thought; never have I committed one treasonable act; I, and all my comrades, have ever served our king with fidelity. We are now to die; not by order of our sovereign, whom we dearly love and reverence, .but victims of treacherous hate and gross injustice." Not one who heard these words, but felt that they were true. Tears filled the eyes of the spectators, and the very air seemed laden with suffocating wrong. The Holy Sacrament was then administered; after which, calmly and with a firm step, Vasco Nuñez mounted the scaffold. Raising his eyes to heaven, he called on God to witness his innocence; then with a rapid farewell glance at sky and earth, and the eager upturned faces of his friends, he placed his head upon the block, and in a moment Vasco Nuñez de Balboa was no more!

9. Then followed his companions, each in his turn. All

this time, not twelve paces distant, hidden behind a wall of reeds, through the crevices of which the butchery of his enemy could be witnessed unobserved, slunk, reptile-like, Pedrarias. Time, which throws a misty cloud between the present and the past and strips the hideousness from many iniquitous deeds, drops no friendly mantle over the horrors of that day at Acla. One century after another rolls by, and the colors upon the canvas deepen; the red gore dripping from the scaffold becomes redder; the black heart of Pedrarias blacker, and the brilliant achievements and generous qualities of Vasco Nuñez de Balboa shine yet brighter.

LESSON XVIII.

SCENE FROM THE HUNCHBACK.

BY SHERIDAN KNOWLES.

James Sheridan Knowles, the most prolific and popular dramatic poet of our day, was born at Cork, Ireland, in 1784. He began writing for the stage at the age of twelve, and in 1809 became an actor. He next became a teacher of elocution at Belfast, and while there wrote Brian Boroihme and Caius Gracchus, which met with the greatest success. In succeeding years he produced many plays, the most popular of which are Virginius, Hunchback, Love Chase, William Tell, Rose of Aragon, and The Wife. He afterward became a Baptist minister, and wrote several sermons and controversial works. Mr. KNOWLES was a careful student of the old dramatists, and knew thoroughly the requirements of the stage. He died in 1862. The following is a scene from The Hunchback.

Tinsel. Believe me. You shall profit by my training;
You grow a lord apace. I saw you meet
A bevy of your former friends, who fain
Had shaken hands with you.
You're now another man.

You gave them fingers!
Your house is changed,-

Your table changed-your retinue-your horse-
Where once you rode a hack, you now back blood;-
Befits it then you also change your friends!

Enter WILLIAMS.

Will. A gentleman would see your lordship.

Tin. Sir!

What's that?

Will. A gentleman would see his lordship.

Tin. How know you, sir, his lordship is at home?
Is he at home because he goes not out?

He's not at home, though there you see him, sir,
Unless he certify that he's at home!

Bring up the name of the gentleman, and then
Your lord will know if he's at home, or not.

[WILLIAMS goes out.
Your man was porter to some merchant's door,
Who never taught him better breeding than
To speak the vulgar truth! Well, sir?

Rochdale. Right well! I'faith a hearty fellow,
Son to a worthy tradesman, who would do

Great things with little means; so enter'd him
In the Temple. A good fellow, on my life,
Nought smacking of his stock!

Tin.

You've said enough!

His lordship's not at home. [WILLIAMS goes out.] We do not go
By hearts, but orders! Had he family—

Blood-though it only were a drop-his heart
Would pass for something; lacking such desert,
Were it ten times the heart it is, 'tis nought!

Enter WILLIAMS,

Will. One Master Jones hath ask'd to see your lordship.

Tin.

And what was your reply to Master Jones?
Will. I knew not if his lordship was at home.
Tin.
You'll do. Who's Master Jones?

Roch. A curate's son.

Tin. A curate's. Better be a yeoman's son !
Was it the rector's son, he might be known,
Because the rector is a rising man,

And may become a bishop. He goes light.
The curate ever hath a loaded back;

He may be called the yeoman of the church,
That, sweating, does his work, and drudges on
While lives the hopeful rector at his ease.
How made you his acquaintance, pray?

Roch. We read

Latin and Greek together.

Tin. Dropping them

As, now that you're a lord, of course you've done-
Drop him-You'll say his lordship's not at home.
Will. So please your worship, I forgot to say,
One Richard Cricket likewise is below.

Tin. Who? Richard Cricket! You must see him, Rochdale!

A noble little fellow! A great man, sir!

Not knowing whom, you would be nobody!
I won five thousand pounds by him!

Roch.

I never heard of him.

Tin.

Who is he?

What? never heard

Of Richard Cricket! never heard of him!
Why, he's the jockey of Newmarket; you
May win a cup by him, or else a sweepstakes.
I bade him call upon you. You must see him.
His lordship is at home to Richard Cricket.

Bid him wait in the ante-room.

Roch.

The ante-room!

[WILLIAMS goes out.

Tin.

The best room in your house! You do not know
The use of Richard Cricket! Show him, sir,
Into the drawing-room. Your lordship needs.
Must keep a racing-stud, and you'll do well

To make a friend of Richard Cricket. Well, sir.

What's that?

Enter WILLIAMS.

Will. So please your lordship, a petition.

Tin.

Hadst not a service 'mongst the Hottentots

Ere thou camest hither, friend? Present thy lord

With a petition! At mechanics' doors,

At tradesmen's, shopkeepers', and merchants' only
Have such things leave to knock! Make thy lord's gate
A wicket to a workhouse! Let us see it-

Subscriptions to a book of poetry !

Cornelius Tense, A. M.

Which means he construes Greek and Latin, works

Problems in mathematics, can chop logic,

And is a conjuror in philosophy,

Both natural and moral-Pshaw! a man

Whom nobody, that is anybody, knows.

Who, think you, follows him? Why an M. D.,

An F. R. S., an F. A. S., and then

A D.D., Doctor of Divinity,

Ushering in an LL. D., which means

Doctor of Laws-their harmony, no doubt,

The difference of their trades! There's nothing here

But languages, and sciences, and arts

Not an iota of nobility!

Take back the paper,
answer for him :-
"No."

We cannot give our names.
And tell the bearer there's no
That is the lordly way of saying

Sweep'stakes, the whole money or other
venture staked at a horse-race.

F. A. S., Fellow of the Society of Arts;
Fellow of the Antiquarian Society.
F. R. S., Fellow of the Royal Society.

Io'tå, the smallest letter of the Greek alphabet, corresponding to the English "i"; and, therefore, used to express very small quantity or degree.