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"Came I not forth upon thy pledge,
My father's hand to kiss?

Be still, and gaze thou on, false king!
And tell me what is this!

The voice, the glance, the heart I sought,
Give answer, where are they?

If thou wouldst clear thy perjured soul,
Send life through this cold clay!

"Into these glassy eyes put light,-
Be still keep down thine ire,-
Bid these white lips a blessing speak,-
This earth is not my sire!

Give me back him for whom I strove,
For whom my blood was shed ;-

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and a king?

His dust be mountains on thy head!"

Upon his horse Bernardo sprang,

Defiance in his look;

Then at the pale and trembling king

A warning finger shook.

And ere, of all that arm'ed train,
Vassal or chief dared stir,-
"I shall return!" Bernardo cried
And gave his steed the spur.

With some good ten of his chosen men,
Bernardo hath appeared,

Before them all, in the palace hall,

The lying king to beard;
With cap in hand and eye on ground,
He came in reverend guise;

But ever and anon he frowned,

And flame broke from his eyes.

"And dar'st thou, caitiff," cries the king, "Thus come unbid to me?

But what from traitor's blood should spring, Save traitor like to thee?

His sire, lords, had a traitor's heart,-
Perchance our champion brave
May think it were a pious part
To share Don Sancho's grave."

"Whoever told this tale the king,
Will he the tale repeat?"

Cries Bernard; "here my gage I fling
Before the liar's feet.

No treason was in Sancho's blood,—

No stain in mine doth lie :

Below the throne, what knight will own

The coward calumny?

"Your horse was down,-your hope was flown,~

I saw the falchion shine,

That soon had drunk your royal blood,

Had I not ventured mine;

But memory soon of service done

Deserteth the in-grate';

You've thanked the son for life and crown

By the father's bloody fate.

"You swore upon your kingly faith

To set Don Sancho free;

But (out upon your paltering breath!)
The light he ne'er did see :
He died in dungeon cold and dim,
By Alfonzo's base decree;
And visage blind, and mangled limb,
Were all you gave to me.

"The king that swerveth from his word
Hath stained his purple black,-
No Spanish lord will draw the sword
Behind a liar's back;

But noble vengeance shall be mine,-
An open hate I'll show ;-

The king hath injured Carpio's line,
And Bernard is his foe!"

"Seize-seize him!" loud the king doth scream;

"There are a thousand here;

Let his foul blood this instant stream ;

What! caitiffs, do ye fear?

Seize seize the traitor!" But not one
To move a finger dareth:
Bernardo standeth by the throne,

And calm his sword he bareth.

He drew the falchion from the sheath,
And held it up on high;

And all the hall was still as death:
Cries Bernard, "Here am I;

And here's the sword that owns no lord,
Excepting Heaven and me:

Fain would I know who dares its point,―
King, condé, or grandee."

Then to his mouth his horn he drew;
(It hung below his cloak;)

His ten true men the signal knew,

And through the ring they broke.
With helm on head, and blade in hand,
The knights the circle brake,*
And back the lordlings 'gan to stand,
And the false king to quake.

"Ha! Bernard," quoth Alfonzo,
"What means this warlike guise?
Ye know full well I jested;

Ye know your worth I prize!"
But Bernard turned upon his heel,
And, smiling, passed away :-
Long rued Alfonzo and Castile
The jesting of that day!

* Obsolete preterit of to break. We now say brone.

19*

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PA-CHA' (pa-shaw'), n., a governor of CRESCENT, n., the figure of the new

a Turkish province.

moon, as borne in the Turkish flag.

IS'LAM (iz-), n., the body of Mahom-RE-HEAR'SAL (-her-), n., repetition;

etan believers.

OTTO-MAN, a.,

Turkish.

ATA-BAL, n., a kettle-drum.

recital.

CA-THE'DRAL, n., the principal church in a bishop's see.

JAN'I-ZA-RY, n., a soldier of the Turk- RIT'U-AL, n., ceremonial.

ish foot-guards.

IN-VET ́ER-ATE, a., old; deep-rooted.

COM-PACT, a., close; solid.

MYR'I-AD, n., ten thousand.

A. D. stands for an'no dom'i-ni, Latin for in the year of the Lord; St. for SaintPronounce Constantine, Kon'stan-teen; Sophia, So-fè'a; a in Ga-la-ta' as in far.

1. THE attacks which, during successive centuries, the walls of Constantinople had sustained, were but the rehearsal of the tragedy in store. That power, which, as early as the year 668, had appeared in arms before them, had continued century after century to watch for their downfall. The might of Islam burned to fling itself upon the ancient Christian capital, and was resolved to hang about its neck until one or the other had perished. In that wonderful career of success which had attended it within but a few years of the prophet's* death, the capture of Constantinople had been its highest aspiration. That aspiration was never lost sight of; for instinctively and inveterately the Crescent hated the Cross.

2. The fatal hour had at last arrived. On the sixth of April, 1453, Ma'homet II. planted his standard before the gate of St. Roma'nus, and commenced that siege which ended in the loss to Christendom of what had for so many centuries been revered as her eastern metrop'olis. One thing alone, it is probable, could have averted that calamity. Had it been possible to heal

* Mohammed, the so-called prophet, founder of the Mohammedan religion.

the great schism in the church, the western world would not have calmly stood by to witness the downfall of eastern Christendom.

3. After a separation of six centuries, the Greek and Latin churches had been solemnly reunited at the Council of Florence, A. D. 1438; but on the return of the emperor, and the prěl'ates who accompanied him, all that they had effected was disowned, and the flames of religious hatred broke out more furiously than ever. The consequences were fatal. Distracted by their own internal quarrels, the princes of western Europe could spare neither time nor thought, neither money nor arms, to protect from the Ottoman invasion a Christian power with which, it not being in commu. nion with them, they had little religious sympathy, and with which, owing to its remoteness, they had no other bond.

4. The events of that terrible siege can never be forgotten by a so'journer at Constantinople. Every thing that he sees and hears is a memorial of it, and the spot is still pointed out, close to the widest breach. in the wall, on which the heroic Constantine was seen last before his death. Never, perhaps, was so unequal a battle so long and so direfully contested; and even at the last it seems probable that Mahomet would have been repulsed by those mighty walls, had he not resorted to an expedient almost without precedent in the annals of war.

5. Finding that success was not to be hoped for, except through a double attack by sea and land, and unable to force the narrow channel of the Bos'phorus, he transported his lighter vessels by land, dragging them in a single night over the high grounds of Galata and launched them again in the shallow waters of the harbor, inaccessible to the deeper ships of the Greeks. He was thus enabled to construct a floating battery,

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