These two personages threw out grave and comic nonsense alternately, while their master, laughing or applauding them himself, yet carefully watched the countenance of his noble guest, to discern what impressions so accomplished a cavalier received from this display of Austrian eloquence and wit. It is hard to say whether the man of wisdom or the man of folly contributed most to the amusement of the party, or stood highest in the estimation of their princely master; but the sallies of both seemed excellently well received. Sometimes they became rivals for the conversation, and clanged their flappers in emulation of each other, with a most alarming contention; but, in general, they seemed on such good terms, and so accustomed to support each other's play, that the spruch-sprecher often condescended to follow up the jester's witticisms with an explanation, to render them more obvious to the capacity of the audience; so that his wisdom became a sort of commentary on the buffoon's folly. And sometimes, in requital, the hoffnarr, with a pithy jest, wound up the conclusion of the orator's tedious harangue.

Whatever his real sentiments might be, Conrade took especial care that his countenance should express nothing but satisfaction with what he heard, and smiled or applauded as zealously, to all appearance, as the archduke himself, at the solemn folly of the spruch-sprecher, and the gibbering wit of the fool. In fact, he watched carefully until the one or other should introduce some topic, favourable to the purpose which was uppermost in his mind.

It was not long ere the king of England was brought on the Carpet by the jester, who had been accustomed to consider Dickon of the Broom as a subject of mirth, acceptable and inexhaustible. The orator, indeed, was silent, and it was only when applied to by Conrade, that he observed, "The genista, or broom plant, was an emblem of humility; and it would be well when those who wore it would remember the warning."

The allusion to the illustrious badge of Plantagenet, was thus rendered sufficiently manifest, and Jonas Schwanker observed, that they who humbled themselves had been exalted with a vengeance.

"Honour unto whom honour is due," answered the Marquis of Montserrat; "we have all had some part in these marches and battles, and methinks other princes might share a little in in the renown which Richard of England engrosses amongst minstrels and minne-singers. Has no one of the Joyeuse science a song in praise of the royal Arch-Duke of Austria, our princely entertainer ?"

Three minstrels emulously stepped forward with voice and harp. Two were silenced with difficulty by the spruchsprecher, who seemed to act as a master of the revels, and a hearing was at length procured for the poet preferred, who sung, in high German, stanzas which may be thus translated :

What brave chief shall head the forces,
Where the red-cross legions gather?

Best of horsemen, best of horses,
Highest head and fairest weather.

Here the orator, jingling his staff, interrupted the bard to intimate to the party, what they might not have inferred from the description, that their royal host was the party indicated, and a full crowned goblet went round to the acclamation-Hoch lebe der Herzog Leopold. Another stanza followed.

Ask not Austria why, midst princes,
Still her banner rises highest;
Ask as well the strong-wing'd eagle,

Why to Heaven he soars the nighest ?

"The eagle," said the expounder of dark sayings, " is the cognizance of our noble lord the Arch-duke-of his royal Grace, I would say-and the eagle flies the highest and the nearest to the sun of all the feathered creation."

"The lion hath taken a spring above the eagle," said Con rade, carelessly.

The Arch-Duke reddened, and fixed his eyes on the speaker, while the spruch-sprecher answered, after a minute's consideration, "The Lord Marquis will pardon me-a lion cannot fly above an eagle, because no lion hath got wings."

66

Except the lion of Saint Mark," said the jester. "That is the Venetian's banner," said the Duke ; " but assuredly, that amphibious race, half nobles, half merchants, will not dare to place their rank in comparison with ours."

"Nay, it was not of the Venetian Lion that I spoke," said the Marquis of Montserrat ; " but of the three lions passant of England--formerly, it is said, they were leopards, but now they are become lions at all points, and must take precedence of beast, fish, or fowl, or woe worth the gain-stander"

"Mean you seriously, my lord?" said the Austrian, now considerably flushed with wine, "think you that Richard of England asserts any pre-eminence over the free sovereigns who have been his voluntary allies in this crusade ?"

"I know not but from circumstances," answered Conrade; "yonder hangs his banner alone in the midst of our camp, as if he were king and generalissimo of our whole Christian army." "And do you endure this so patiently, and speak of it so coldly?" said the Arch-Duke.

"Nay, my lord," answered Conrade, " it cannot concern the poor Marquis of Montserrat to contend against an injury, patiently submitted to by such potent princes

"Who goes there?" said Sir Kenneth, aware that there was something creeping forward on the shadowy side of the Mount. "In the name of Merlin and Maugis," answered a hoarse disagreeable voice, tie up your four-footed demon there, or I come not at you."

"And who art thou that would approach my post?" said Sir Kenneth, bending his eyes as keenly as he could on some object, which he could just observe at the bottom of the ascent, without being able to distinguish its form. here for death and life."

"Beware-I am

"Take up thy long-fanged Sathanas," said the voice, "or I will conjure him with a bolt from my arblast."

At the same time he heard the sound of a spring or check, as when a cross-bow is bent.

"Unbind thy arblast, and come into the moonlight," said the Scot, "or, by Saint Andrew, I will pin thee to the earth, be what or whom thou wilt."

As he spoke, he poised his long lance by the middle, and, fixing his eye upon the object which seemed to move, he brandished the weapon as if meditating to cast it from his hand--an use of the weapon sometimes, though rarely, resorted to, when a missile was necessary. But Sir Kenneth was ashamed of his purpose, and grounded his weapon, when there stepped from the shadow into the moonlight, like an actor entering upon the stage, a stunted decrepit creature, whom, by his fantastic dress and deformity, he recognised even at some distance for the male of the two dwarfs whom he had seen in the chapel at Engaddi. Recollecting, at the same moment, the other and far different visions of that extraordinary night, he gave his dog a signal, which he instantly understood, and returning to the standard, laid himself down beside it with a stifled growl.

The little distorted miniature of humanity, assured of his safety from an enemy so formidable, came panting up the ascent, which the shortness of his legs rendered laborious, and when he arrived on the platform at the top, shifted to his left hand the little cross-bow, which was just such a toy as children at that period were permitted to shoot small birds with, and, assuming an attitude of great dignity, gracefully extended his right hand to Sir Kenneth, in an attitude as if he expected he would salute it. But such a result not following, he demanded, in a sharp and angry tone of voice, "Soldier, wherefore renderest thou not to Nectabanus the homage due to his dignity? Or is it possible that thou canst have forgotten him?"

"Great Nectabanus," answered the knight, willing to sooth the creature's humour, "that were difficult for any one who has ever looked upon thee. Pardon me, however, that being a soldier upon my post, with my lance in iny hand, I may not give to one of thy puissance the advantage of coming VOL. III. yume womu ve told by ten within my guard, or of mastering my weapon. Suffice it, that I reverence thy dignity, and submit myself to thee as humbly as a man-at-arms in my place may."

"It shall suffice," said Nectabanus, "so that you presently attend me to the presence of those who have sent me hither to summon you."

"Great sir," replied the knight, "neither in this can I gratify thee, for my orders are to abide by this banner till daybreak-so I pray you to hold me excused in that matter also."

So saying, he resumed his walk upon the platform; but the dwarf did not suffer him so easily to escape from his importunity.

"Look you," he said, placing himself before Sir Kenneth, so as to interrupt his way, "either obey me, Sir Knight, as in duty bound, or I will lay the command upon thee, in the name of one whose beauty could call down the genii from their sphere, and whose grandeur could command the immortal race when they had descended."

A wild and improbable conjecture arose in the knight's mind, but he repelled it. It was impossible, he thought, that the lady of his love should have sent him such a message by such a messenger-yet his voice trembled as he said, "Go to, Nectabanus. Tell me at once, and as a true man, whether this sublime lady, of whom thou speakest, be other than the houri with whose assistance I beheld thee sweeping the chapel at Engaddi ?"

"How! presumptuous knight," replied the dwarf, "think'st thou the mistress of our own royal affections, the sharer of our greatness, and the partner of our comeliness, would demean herself by laying charge on such a vassal as thou! No, highly as thou art honoured, thou hast not yet deserved the notice of Queen Genevra, the lovely bride of Arthur, from whose high seat even princes seem but pigmies. But look thou here, and as thou knowest or disownest this token, so obey or refuse her commands, who hath deigned to impose them on thee."

So saying, he placed in the knight's hands a ruby ring, which, even in the moonlight, he had no difficulty to recognise as that which usually graced the finger of the high-born lady to whose service he had devoted himself. Could he have doubted the truth of the token, he would have been convinced by the small knot of carnation-coloured ribbon, which was fastened to the ring. This was his lady's favourite colour, and more than once had he himself, assuming it for that of his own liveries, caused the carnation to triumph over all other hues in the lists and in the battle.

Sir Kenneth was struck nearly mute, by seeing such a token In such hands. "In the name of all that is sacred, from whom didst thou insa knight; "bring, if thou canst,

thy wavering understanding to a right settlement for a minute or two, and tell me the person by whom thou art sent, and the real purpose of thy message-and take heed what thou say'st, for this is no subject for buffoonery."

"Fond and foolish knight," said the dwarf, "would'st thou know more of this matter, than that thou art honoured with commands from a princess, and sent by a king? We list not to parley with thee farther than to command thee, in the name, and by the power of that ring, to follow us to her who is the owner of the ring. Every minute that thou tarriest is a crime against thine allegiance."

"Good Nectabanus-bethink thyself," said the knight"Can my lady know where and upon what duty I am this night engaged? Is she aware that my life-Pshaw, why should I speak of life-but that my honour depends on my guarding this banner till daybreak-and can it be her wish that I should leave it even to pay homage to her!-It is impossible-the princess is pleased to be merry with her servant, in sending him such a message; and I must think so the rather that she hath chosen such a messenger."

"Oh, keep your belief," said Nectabanus, turning round as if to leave the platform, "it is little to me whether you be traitor or true man to this royal lady-so fare thee well."

"Stay, stay-1 entreat you stay," said Sir Kenneth "answer me but one question-Is the lady who sent thee near to this place?"

"What signifies it?" said the dwarf; "ought fidelity to reckon furlongs, or miles, or leagues-like the poor courier, who is paid for his labour by the distance which he traverses ? Nevertheless, thou soul of suspicion, I tell thee, the fair owner of the ring, now sent to so unworthy a vassal, in whom there is neither truth nor courage, is not more distant from this place, than this arblast can send a bolt."

The knight gazed again on the ring, as if to ascertain that there was no possible falsehood in the token.-" Tell me," said he to the dwarf, " is my presence required for any length of time?"

"Time," answered Nectabanus, in his flighty manner; "what call you time? I see it not-I feel it not-it is but a shadowy name-a succession of breathings measured forth by night by the clank of a bell, by day by a shadow crossing along a dial-stone. Know'st thou not a true knight's time should only be reckoned by the deeds that he performs in behalf of God and his lady?"

"The words of truth, though in the mouth of folly," said the knight. " And doth my lady really summen me to some deed of action, in her name and for her sake?-and may it not be postponed for even the few hours till daybreak?"

"She requires thy presence instantly," said the dwarf, " and without the loss of so much time as would be told by te