And rest thy throbbing temples on my bosom, Boy though I be. Tomb of our chivalry!-Ah, prythee leave, Wilt thou still bind? The pride of old Castile shall rise again This shall be so. Only look up, and let me bind thine arm: Whilst I stood reckless by? Heav'n knows, not 1. Come, for thy country's sake, If not for her's, live on. Saavedra. For Spain and her I'll live. Come, bind; bind up mine arm, I I have another life to give my country. My country and my love. But hark thee, Cynthio: Wert thou not hurt i'the fight? Cynthio. A scratch, my lord ; Here, just about the wrist.- I think 'twas near thy bosom; that fell Moor Thou woman-boy! I swear thou hast a wound. Cynthio. My lord, my lord, Ope not my breast I am not wounded-no. Sooth! I am not- say : But whence, then, all this blood staining thy vest? Ay, I will live for Spain: Come, bind it up: Thy crest shall bow for this: Come, bind me, bind me ; Till Paynim blood has paid back drop for drop,— To wear the rose of honour on my crest, O Arethuse! O Spain! O Chivalry!— Cynthio, thou sleep'st-bind me, I say: I swear The Saracen shall rue-why dost not bind? What! toil'd so soon? Wherefore dost grow so pale? Doth my blood fright thee? Cynthio. Ay, my lord, i' faith. Saavedra. Why, thou speak'st faintly; art thou sick, my boy? Droop not, sweet Cynthio (Cynthio falls on his master's arm, and dies.) O ye pitiful heav'ns! Take not my boy, take not my faithful boy, (Opening Cynthio's vest.) His sweet breast's full of blood;-O sun and stars! (Taking off her helmet.) O Arethuse! These are thy golden locks! these are thy curls! Ay, here's the high and crystal brow indeed, O luckless Arethusa ! Was it for this, dear maid, thy happy bowers For this ungrateful meed? For this, for this, THE CURSE OF COLDENGAME. "Remove not the old landmarks; and enter not into the fields of the THERE is a part of Suffolk known by the name of the "dairy district," which, to the curious in the pastoral branch of domestic economy, presents all that is interesting in the care and pasturage of cows, and the production of the richest cheese and butter. When you pass from the land of the reap-hook and ploughshare into the region of natural grass and perpetual pasturage, you cannot be insensible that a corresponding change has taken place in the manners and bearing of the people. It is true you will find no vacant shep herds piping in the dale, nor meet with flocks which seem fond of any other melody save that of the running brooks, where the grass is abundant, and the wild yellow clover green and savoury. The herds of cows-the ring-straked, the speckled, and the spotted, seem a most laborious grass-devouring race, bearing no resemblance to those more favoured animals which browze with such delicacy of taste, and low so melodiously, over the bloomy fields of some of our pastoral bards. If they are not of a strict pastoral kind, and cannot claim descent from those flocks to which Apollo piped and Daphnis sang, they are nevertheless a fair and a stately breed-of the colour of the richest cream-with an appetite which seems uncloyed with the balmiest morsels of the fields, and with udders ample and distended, nearly touching the ground, and seeming ready to shed at every step the fragrant treasures they contain. As you stand where the plough has stopt, and where the last ridges of grain are waving, you will see before you, as far as the eye can reach, a region of natural pastures, bounded by long ridges of sloping hills, intersected by several pure but dilatory streams, through the deepest of which a girl may wade, and over the broadest of which a man may leap; while some scattered remnants of old forests guard the whole from the full sweep of the northern blast. In some places the trees rise, tall and straight-in a less favoured spot they Dec. 1823. grow squat and gnarled-while in many parts the sterility of the soil has tamed down alike the oak, the ash, the beech, and the elm; and there they flourish, in the company of holly and mountain ash,- a kind of better brushwood. In the green and winding avenues innumerable herds of cows browze, or lie by the sunny side of the woods, chewing the cud, and lowing for the approach of a bevy of bare-armed maidens, who ease them, at stated times, of their increasing and painful burthen. The whole land seems divided by the hand of nature-the landmarks of knolls, and streams, and woods, portion it out into many large and irregular farms, each with hall and cattlehouses, rows of hacks, and lines of open sheds. An hundred hinds and maidens-to borrow the round numbers in which pastoral dreamers deal -are at intervals going and returning, laden with the liquid ore out of which the treasures of the district are coined. The simile of a commonwealth of bees singing as they go and come, and storing up the riches of the fields, though far from new, applies with great propriety to a race of people who rival in industry and in melody those laborious and har monious insects. When you advance into the country, and the sharp edge of curiosity is somewhat blunted, you will find leisure to observe that each subdivision of the district has a system of management peculiar to itself. In one place a scrupulous observance of old pastoral rules prevails; in another, the indiscreet goddess, Chance, seems to have acquired the mastery; while the thirst of gain predominates on a third division. It is of the division over which Mammon was then waving his banner that our story must speak; and as it must speak with a tongue some sixty years old, we may suppose ourselves wafted back to that period, and that we are looking for the first time over the immense patriarchal establishment of herds, and hinds, and bond women. In other lands the cows roamed at 2$ large, feeding in groupes by the oaks, and of a distant field grazed by a brook-banks ; but here they stood numerous cows. fastened to rough wooden mangers, “ It is, indeed," said one, who had in rank succeeding rank, with cut all the tokens of the pastoral charge grass before them, and a moveable of souls about him, “ an ancient and fence of rods or reeds to protect a venerable place-tradition hesitates them from the wind. Many men about the date of its foundation, and and maidens attended to the filling certain of those sages, the antiquaries, or clearing of the mangers—or moved have written very learnedly and unthe fences, as the wind shifted, or intelligibly about it. In groping after knelt--or, to borrow a northern word, its date, they have filled their hands « hunkered” and filled their innumea with idle controversy, and, in a style rable pails with milk. Others at swollen with Norman and Saxon home, on the cool tiled floors of the names, have floundered on till they dairies, transformed, in many a reek- are stayed by the very reasonable ing pan, the new milked-milk into legend of the Wolf and St. Edmund's curds, pressed out the whey with head—and there have they halted their hands, and filled the cheese- for breath before they take another moulds, and placed them under the step up the dark stair of conjecture cheese-presses. Another department and absurdity.” “ It would perhaps presented some dozens of busy hands be presumptuous," said his compaextracting, with many a plunge and nion, who seemed, by his shrewd and pull, the butter from the cream- suspicious eye, to be one learned in washing it in cold spring water, and the law, “ while such a controversy dressing it out in all its attractions for pends, to offer the opinion of one so market. Over the whole, one or two simple as myself: but to eyes less inold, considerate, calculating female spired indeed than those through spirits presided, and seemed, by their which antiquaries look, the house smooth shining looks, and round seems of the age of Henry VII. plump forms, something like suitable The arms of the noble name of Benpersonifications of those savoury net may be seen very curiously carved commodities-butter and cheese. amid the interlacings of vine and ivý. · The house, or rather hall, to which leaves, while over it is the figure of all those herds and hinds belonged, a wolf couching with a human head merits some notice. It had been in between its paws, which it may be other times a dwelling of note. It either watching or devouring. The was built chiefly with beams of wise on those matters say it is the framed oak, richly carved in a deep wolf and the head of St. Edmundsharp old Saxon style, with high peak while the simple, and therefore une ends and latticed windows, and with wise, say it is the arms of the corpomany marks of original grandeur and ration of weavers — a wolf's head antique beauty about it. Those who with a shuttle in its mouth.” Are ye are anxious after day and date for all sure," said the divine, “that the the labours of man may obtain a leaves are those of the grape ?" “ As useful lesson in the controversy which sure," said the lawyer," as that then burned, and which still smoul- grapes never grow without leaves." ders, concerning the age of the hall. “Then," said the divine, “ this On that very morning in which a throws some light on an old boast, man somewhat curious about truth that the lands of Framlingham, that would desire to commence this de- now flow with milk, once flowed sultory but remarkable tale, it hap- with wine.” “ Ah! the old vine pened that the antiquity of the terraces of Framlingham," said the hall had engaged the attention of two lawyer, “ which, planted by the persons, who, summoned on other Romans, intoxicated the Saxons, and business, sat under the southern filled the monks with delight, and porch-way, side by side. From this the nuns with joy. Those were place they had a view of a wandering merry times, Mr. Horegrove; but stream-which had obtained the merry times never last long. And I name of the Larke, from emitting, as am afraid, after all, that this English it ran, a kind of melodious din among wine would feel sour to the fastidious its pebbles ; they had also a view of lips of the present generation." many clumps of very old and stately At this moment a female shriek was heard in the hall, and the person who uttered it came suddenly out, smiting one hand upon another. Come, start ye!" said she, addressing at once the divine and the lawyer ;- "Come, stir ye-stir ye: the breath will be out, and the devil will be in, and Coldengame-hall will lack a master, while ye sit here talking of Framlingham oaks and Robin Grande's vine terraces. He's gasping his last gasp, and no a sensible soul near him to hear the last words of an expiring sinner!" The room into which they rose and followed this unceremonious messenger was a small chamber, hewn out of oak as hard as iron, and as black as ink; and lighted by a small window half shut up with a vine run wild. In an old stuffed arm-chair-with arms, and mottoes, and texts of scripture, strewn over it, they found a halelooking old man, who, with clasped hands, and an unsettled wildness of eye, sat gazing round and round as if something visible to him alone flitted from place to place, and was giving him great pain. "Where is Elias, my son?" said the old man;-" when the wind is shaking the fruit tree, he should be near to gather the fruit. You are welcome, Mr. Horegrove-if that's your name and you, sir, are welcome too-ye are the new-come lawyer-ye came here when the Norfolk breed of cows came-and the dairy district has never thriven since. We come weeping, Mr. Horegrove, into the world; and we go groaning out; and of all that we love, we can take nought with us. I wish the curse of man and of God would remain behind on the earth with them who brought in the brindled breed of cows. But when will moaning mend us the fair fields and the pure gold we have sinned our souls in seeking must bide where they are. What could I do with the broad lands of Coldengame in another world? And now I think that's nearly as good as a sermon, Mr. Horegrove; I knew all you would say, and said it for ye, and so I bid you good morrow. And now I think on't, ye may as well take Mr. Windlas the lawyer with you-I hate the breed-I hate the breed. Will the pleasant lands of Coldengame not descend with the old name of Ney land, unless it's scribbled on a sheep'sskin by a knave? I hate the breedI hate the breed. The Lord deliver the pasture-lands of the old district from priests, lawyers, and the brindled brood of Norfolk. Away with you! Away with you!" They rose, and went away. A tall handsome young man now entered the chamber; he advanced to the chair, took the sick man by the hand, and turned his head away to hide the tear which was not there to drop. "Elias Neyland," said the old man, " I must leave the green pastures of Coldengame and the clear stream of the Larke, and all my milch-cows-and a fairer brood never nipt the morning grass, nor yielded milk to a maiden's hand I must leave them all, Elias-and leave my gold, and my gains, and my thrifty bargains, and the prospect of large increase, and all to a thriftless and a prodigal son, who spent fourpence half-penny at last Ipswich fair, and drank the cream off yesterday, morning's milk. Men will say, as they hold out their fingers at thee, There goes waster Elias, the only son of old saving Edward Neyland.' Ah! Elias, Elias, what made ye of the silver sixpence I gave ye on your birth-day-ye will break your father's heart, Elias." "Father," said the youth, 66 your days may yet be many; and you may live to add field to field, and sum to sum; and the delight of gain and the gladness of riches may be yours for a score of years. Father, your reproach is unjust. I have learned to make money work while men sleepI beat Gisleham at bargain-making; I took in Gripington in open barter at noon-day, and fairly outwitted Cresswell out of one of his best heifers. I cannot pass along the street on a market-day but I hear men whisper, That's young Neyland of Coldengame-a flint-a nail-a file his father's a cloud raining manna compared to him-he has an eye like a cormorant, and every finger is a fish-hook.' "My son," said the old man, my heart is cheered-ye are indeed my child. Ah! I thought ye had a touch too much of your mother-a wise and a thrifty woman, Elias, in all things, save in giving her cheese-parings to the parish poor, and wearing laced head-gear on ho |