Mr. Pickwick, what do you think?" "Oh, Mr. Pickwick," said Mrs. Bardell, trembling with agitation, "you're very kind, sir." "It will save you a great deal of trouble, won't it ?" said Mr. Pickwick. "Oh, I never thought anything of the trouble, sir,” replied Mrs. Bardell; ' and of course, I should take more trouble to please you then than ever; but it is so kind of you, Mr. Pickwick, to have so much consideration for my loneliness.” "Ah to be sure," said Mr. Pickwick; "I never thought of that. When I am in town, you'll always have somebody to sit with you. To be sure, so you will." I'm sure I ought to be a very happy woman," said Mrs. Bardell. "And your little boy-" " said Mr. Pickwick. "Bless his heart," interposed Mrs. Bardell, with a maternal sob. 'He, too, will have a companion," resumed Mr. Pickwick, "a lively one, who'll teach him, I'll be bound, more tricks in a week, than he would ever learn in a year." And Mr Pickwick smiled placidly. 66 "Oh you dear-" said Mrs. Bardell. Mr. Pickwick started. "Oh you kind, good, playful dear," said Mrs. Bardell; and without more ado, she rose from her chair, and flung her arms round Mr. Pickwick's neck, with a cataract of tears, and a chorus of sobs. "Bless my soul," cried the astonished Mr. Pickwick;" Mrs. Bardell, my good woman-dear me, what a situation-pray consider. Mrs. Bardell, don't-if anybody should come-"" "Oh, let them come," exclaimed Mrs. Bardell, frantically; "I'll never leave you-dear, kind, good, soul ;" and, with these words, Mrs. Bardell clung the tighter. 66 Mercy upon me," said Mr. Pickwick, struggling violently," I hear somebody coming up the stairs. Don't, don't, there's a good creature, don't." But entreaty and remonstrance were alike unavailing: for Mrs. Bardell had fainted in Mr. Pickwick's arms; and before he could gain time to deposit her on a chair, Master Bardell entered the room, ushering in Mr. Tupman, Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Snodgrass. Mr. Pickwick was struck motionless and speechless. He stood with his lovely burden in his arms, gazing vacantly on the countenances of his friends, without the slightest attempt at recognition or explanation. They, in their turn, stared at him; and Master Bardell, in his turn, stared at everybody. The astonishment of the Pickwickians was so absorbing, and the perplexity of Mr. Pickwick was so extreme, that they might have remained in exactly the same relative situation until the suspended animation of the lady was restored, had it not been for a most beautiful and touching expression of filial affection on the part of her youthful son. Clad in a tight suit of corduroy, spangled with brass buttons of a very considerable size, he at first stood at the door astounded and uncertain; but by degrees, the impression that his mother must have suffered some personal damage, pervaded his partially developed mind, and con sidering Mr. Pickwick the aggressor, he set up an appall ing and semi-earthly kind of howling, and butting forward, with his head, commenced assailing that immortal gentle. man about the back and legs, with such blows and pinches as the strength of his arm, and the violence of his excite ment allowed. "Take this little villain away," said the agonized Mr Pickwick, "he's mad." "What is the matter ?" said the three tongue-tied Pickwickians. "I don't know," replied Mr. Pickwick, pettishly. "Take away the boy-(here Mr. Winkle carried the interesting boy, screaming and struggling, to the farther end of the apartment.) Now help me to lead this woman down stairs." Oh, I'm better now," said Mrs. Bardell, faintly. "Let me lead you down stairs," said the ever gallant Mr. Tupman. "Thank you, sir—thank you;" exclaimed Mrs. Bardell, hysterically. And down stairs she was led accordingly, accompanied by her affectionate son. "I cannot conceive "-said Mr. Pickwick, when his friend returned-"I cannot conceive what has been the matter with that woman. I had merely announced to her my intention of keeping a man-servant, when she fell into the extraordinary paroxysm in which you found her. Very extraordinary thing." "Very," said his three friends. 66 Placed me in such an extremely awkward situation," continued Mr. Pickwick. "Very;" was the reply of his followers, as they coughed slightly, and looked dubiously at each other. This behavior was not lost upon Mr. Pickwick. He remarked their incredulity. They evidently suspected him. "There is a man in the passage now," said Mr. Tupman. "It's the man that I spoke to you about," said Mr. Pick wick, "I sent for him to the Borough this morning, Have the goodness to call him up, Snodgrass." 11 BERNARDO DEL CARPIO.-Mrs. Hemans. THE warrior bowed his crested head, and tamed his heart of fire, And sued the haughty king to free his long-imprisoned sire; "I bring thee here my fortress-keys, I bring my captive train, I pledge thee faith, my liege, my lord!-O! break my father's chain !" "Rise, rise! even now thy father comes, a ransomed man this day! Mount thy good horse; and thou and I will meet him on his way." Then lightly rose that loyal son, and bounded on his steed, And urged, as if with lance in rest, the charger's foamy speed. And lo! from far, as on they pressed, there came a glittering band, With one that 'midst them stately rode, as leader in the land: "Now haste, Bernardo, haste! for there, in very truth, is he, The father whom thy faithful heart hath yearned so long to see." His dark eye flashed, his proud breast heaved, his cheek's hue came and went; He reached that gray-haired chieftain's side, and there, dismounting, bent; A lowly knee to earth he bent, his father's hand he tookWhat was there in its touch that all his fiery spirit shook? That hand was cold-a frozen thing-it dropped from his like lead! He looked up to the face above-the face was of the dead! A plume waved o'er the noble brow-the brow was fixed and white: He met, at last, his father's eyes-but in them was no light! Up from the ground he sprang and gazed-but who could paint that gaze? They hushed their very hearts that saw its horror and amaze; They might have chained him, as before that stony form he stood; For the power was stricken from his arm, and from his lip the blood. 'FATHER!" at length he murmured low, and wept like childhood then : Talk not of grief till thou hast seen the tears of warlike men! He thought on all his hopes, and all his young renownHe flung his falchion from his side, and in the dust sat down. Then covering with his steel-gloved hands his darkly mournful brow "No more, there is no more," he said, "to lift the sword for, now; My king is false-my hope betrayed! My father-O! the worth, The glory, and the loveliness, are passed away from earth! "I thought to stand where banners waved, my sire, beside thee, yet! I would that there our kindred blood on Spain's free soil had met ! Thou wouldst have known my spirit, then;-for thee my fields were won; And thou hast perished in thy chains, as though thou hadst no son !" Then, starting from the ground once more, he seized the monarch's rein, Amidst the pale and wildered looks of all the courtier train; And, with a fierce, o'ermastering grasp, the rearing war horse led, And sternly set them face to face the king before the dead : "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! Thou canst not?-and a king!—his dust be mountains on thy head." He loosed the steed-his slack hand fell;-upon the silent face He cast one long, deep, troubled look, then turned from that sad place: His hope was crushed, his after fate untold in martial strain: His banner led the spears no more, amidst the hills of Spain. BERNARDO AND KING ALPHONSO. WITH Some good ten of his chosen men, Bernardo hath appeared, Before them all in the palace hall, The lying king to beard; He came in reverend guise, But ever and anon he frowned, And flame broke from his eyes. "A curse upon thee," cries the king, But what from traitor's blood should spring, His sire, lords, had a traitor's heart Perchance our champion brave "Whoever told this tale, The king hath rashness to repeat," No treason was in Sancho's blood- Below the throne what knight will own The coward calumny? "The blood that I like water shed, When Roland did advance, By secret traitors hired and led, To make us slaves of France; The life of king Alphonso I saved at Roncesval Your words, Lord King, are recompense |