D'Anville arose, he threw his arms around me, and manly tears flowed fast upon me; mine too kept them company, and every blessing of gratitude rush'd impetuously upon my soul. "Farewell, farewell, my Chatelar!" D'Anville exclaimed; "thy friend commits his heart to thee-Adieu, and Heaven for ever guard "thee." The Marechal rush'd from the chamber, his attendants awaited below their lord's approach; I uttered a sad farewell to him I reverence, but my streaming tears forbad my attendance on him. From yonder casement, through which the moon now throws its steady ray, I saw the miserable D'Anville vault his steed; first towards the lattice of Queen Mary's room he turned his glist'ning eye-he saw not the object which he sought; towards poor Chatelar his gaze then turned; he placed his hand upon his heart, then reared it towards heaven:-'twas the signal of his love, and unto me a lesson of fidelity.-Again towards the queen of love he turned his wistful look-he beheld her; D'Anville gazed upon the bright star of day; taking his bonnet from his brow, he waved it thrice in air, and wafting, as love's mesenger, one parting sigh, he quickly disappeared. Thus parted D'Anville from the heavenly maid, and thus is Chatelar by friendship bound to plead his cause-yes; now shall I be permitted to attend the source of all my extacy and all my pain ; in private I shall view her, and feed upon her rapturous charms; sing ditties to her listening ear, and speak the language of my breast without controul.- -Dares Chatelar require more joy; should I not for ever bless that fate which gives to me what it denies D'Anville; which even will allow the presence of Chatelar, when favoured Gordon's self is not permitted to approach ?— 'Tis too much-heaven opens to my panting brain-I live, I bask in love!-Can the warm poet's fancy picture to my senses such elysium as I feel? Where is such light as Mary's eyes dispense? where is the fragrance of her breaththe music of her voice-the symmetry of her form-the graceful motion of each limb-and that enchanting smile that plays around her roseate lip-To live within the vortex of all these, surpasses what my sick'ning soul could hope for. -A rhapsody of joy entrances me—I am not of this earth; 'tis not in this sublunary state to feel as I do! * * I faint * 'tis rap ture- -Mary!My queen!-My love my love AIR. TRISTE AMOUR.* UNE reine est maitresse de mon cœur ; Elle reigne part tout, Car ses beaux yeux, Sont les deux sceptres de l'amour; Et quand vers moi ils tournent leurs brillantes flammes, Le feu d'amour s'empare de tout mon ame. Heureux si j'etois souverain, De tout le ciel Peut etre elle, Ne voudras pas que j'aime en vain ; Mais comme je suis en silence je soupire J'ose bien aimer, mais je n'ose pas le dire. *The annexed French ballad is conjectured to be that alluded to by Chatelar in the ensuing fragment; and it appears, that this effusion was the first written by the unfortunate youth after the departure of his patron, the Marechal D'Anville, from the court of Scotland It is certainly expressive of the most fervent love and adoration, and the conclusive couplet is peculiarly applicable to the hopeless situation of the unfortunate writer. The editor has given this little composition as a specimen of the original productions of Chatelar, to which he has subjoined his translation; AIR. TRANSLATION. A QUEEN is mistress of my soul; I idolize Her brilliant eyes, Love's sceptres which all hearts controul; And when tow'rd me their ardent fires they turn, Love's flames within my breast more furious burn. Were I but sov❜reign of the sky, Conferr'd on me, And I unheeded should not sigh; But as I am, in silence I must feel Love's sacred flame, and yet that flame conceal. and from this specimen he conceives, it will appear obvious how far inferior his attempts at imitation are to the original productions in the French language. FRAGMENT VII. A DAY of uninterrupted bliss has now transpired.-Oh! let me chronicle the welcome truth, and chequer with the renovating smile of love one page of that great book which has hitherto been sullied by bitter misfortune. This morn a summons called me to my queen : Mary deigned to invite poor Chatelar, who, on the wings of timid hope, expectancy and love, obeyed the welcome mandate. As I entered, a single female attendant waited her commands, when, scarcely had my trembling knee paid her the homage due, ere Mary dismissed her. Upon the left-hand rested the lovely cheek of my goddess, her taper fingers being partly concealed by the profusion of auburn hair that flowed in wavy tresses upon her milk-hue'd bosom; her rightarm in graceful negligence rested upon the flowing drapery of sable velvet wherewith she was arrayed; it looked like Parian marble embossed |