tended to be a most amiable and engaging look; but which gave her coarse lineaments a still more grotesque hideousness, that almost made the young shepherd laugh in her face, despite the secret dread he felt creeping on his heart. "I am the ruler of a vast tract of country; I have a vast army to do my will; nay, more, I have dominion over the elements in their fiercest rage, and spirits obey my bidding. I am rich beyond counting. You smile, and believe not. Look here!" As she spoke, she struck the ground three times with her foot, muttering rapidly to herself, when up sprang close to her, a tall tree of the purest gold, the glittering branches laden with jewels beyond all price. Seizing one of these, a magnificent emerald, and pulling it off the branch, again she stamped her foot, and the tree disappeared, leaving the jewel in her hands. "Here," continued she, putting it into Conla's passive hand, "here is earnest of my wealth; leave that weak girl, and come with me to wealth and happiness!" Conla had hitherto been kept dumb by the strange scene before him; but now, rousing himself, he looked at his Eva, and meeting her gaze of deep, whole-hearted, confiding affection, he dashed the glittering jewel on the ground, and cried, "Away, sorceress! I spurn your gifts, your accursed power, yourself! With Eva will I live or die!" The face of the Black Lady showed horrible in the pale moonlight, as, with a withering scowl of hatred and vengeance, she again spoke : "You shall not die, insolent wretch ! You shall live in agonies to which death were mercy; ay, and she, too,-that worthless thing you prefer to me,-she, too, shall suffer!" As she spoke, she described a circle in the air with her hand round the island. At once the moon became obscured, and a terrible darkness fell upon all, while a sudden storm swept over the island. Conla and his Eva tried to fly to some cave for refuge, but were arrested by the sight that met their eyes when the transitory darkness cleared away. The moon again shone out brilliantly, and by its light the lovers perceived, to their great horror, that the island itself was in motion ! A little ahead of its southernmost point their persecutor was scudding over the waters in a bark, the traditional accounts of which, represent it as a good deal resembling the steam-boats of modern days, for there was smoke issuing out of it; and two or three respectable individuals, with black faces, fiery eyes, horns on their heads, and tails twirled in graceful folds, might be seen through an open hatchway, employed in much the same manner as the hard-working, hard-drinking steam-packet engineers of our own times, while a clacking and clanging of iron was continually heard, similar to the sounds that annoy sea-sick passengers at present. From the taffrail of this inviting-looking vessel, three or four strong cables stretched to the island, and were rove through an immense hole in a huge projecting rock, that seemed as if it had been bored for this especial purpose. The steamer tugged gallantly, and the island plashed and splashed heavily along, at the rate of twenty or thirty knots an hour: the cows and sheep upon the latter, not having their sea-legs aboard, tumbled and rolled about in fine style. Eva got exceedingly sea-sick, and Conla exceedingly indignant: but there was no use in his anger. On the island went. On and on,-past Belfast, Drogheda, Dublin,-rattling and splashing along, greatly to the astonishment of the fishes, who, besides being then quite unaccustomed to public steaming, had never before seen an island on the move. Between Dublin and Holyhead there was a little difficulty; for the island, which was exceedingly unmanageable, fetched away to starboard, and took the ground a little outside of Howth. This was a cause of great delight to the lovers, who thought their voyage was now at an end; but they were much mistaken two of the amiable gentry who manned the tug-boat jumped lightly on the island, and cut away with a couple of strokes of an axe the part that was aground, it breaking into two pieces, which remain to this day, proofs of the truth of this tale, under the names of Lambay and Ireland's Eye. On went the steamer again, and on went the island merrily and clumsily as ever, and the Black Lady looked back and laughed at the disappointed lovers. Wicklow went by,-Wexford,-and now the shores of the county Waterford hove in sight; and the vessel and island, rounding Point Carnsore in gallant style, issued out from the Irish Channel into the waters of the Atlantic. Morning had broken by this time, and a bright and beautiful morning it was. Eva, overpowered by fatigue, had sunk to sleep; Conla sate beside her, deep anxiety lowering on his brow, and his soul rent with the most agonizing emotions. Meantime his body was just as much disturbed, for the island was now heaving and pitching worse than before, upon the longer billows of the ocean; and he occasionally had to hold on with both his hands to the stones and shrubs near him, to prevent himself from being what sailors would call "hove overboard" by the violent motion of the strange craft in, or rather on, which he was embarked. Disliking his situation exceedingly, and greatly fearing that he would have still more reason to do so, he saw that there was no chance of his delivery from it, if he could not succeed in mollifying the enraged enchantress. Espying her again seated upon the steamer's taffrail, he therefore hailed her, and sought by humble prayers and entreaties to induce her to release him and his Eva; or, if one should suffer, to set her free, and vent the heaviest vengeance upon his head. But the Black Lady let him talk on. He had a very sweet voice, and she liked to hear that; and, when he had done, she contented herself with simply shaking her head in token of refusal: then, as he again stooped his proud spirit to still more vehement entreaties and supplications, and raved in the intensity of his anguish, she mocked at him, and laughed loud and long in scorn, till at length, wearied out and despairing, he sunk his head upon his bosom, and was silent. Slowly the day wore on, but quickly the headlands and bays of the southern shore of Ireland glided by; and great was the wonder and amaze of those who looked to seaward from that shore. Many were the noble fishes left that day in the depths of the ocean with the barbed hook fast in their jaws, as the wild natives of the coast, in terror at the sight of the demon vessel and her charge, hove overboard their rude fishing-gear to lighten their frail coracles, and plied sail and oar to seek refuge on the land. It has been even surmised that it was some such sight as this, that scared that first great geographer, Ptolemy, and made him fly the Irish coast ere he had completed his survey. However, this is a point that has never been fully ascertained. The sun was sinking gloriously into the bosom of the slow-heaving main as the steamer, with the island in tow, rounded Dursey Head, and hove in sight of their destination, the promontory of Bohis. With exultation in her eyes, the Baon Ri Dhuv pointed out her lofty castle, shining in the distance with the last rays of the departing orb of day. Eva was now awake, and her and Conla's supplications were poured out for mercy and for pity; but they might as well have been uttered to Bohis Head itself. The leagues between the latter place and Dursey Head were rapidly traversed, and now the island had been towed within a mile of its final destination, which was the promontory on which the castle stood. At this moment another sudden storm, such as that of the preceding night, passed athwart the scene; and, when it cleared away, the steamer had disappeared, and the Black Lady was to be seen, upon the headland tugging at the island to bring it closer. "Is there no help in Heaven!" cried Conla, as, after another appeal in vain to their persecutor, he threw his eyes up with a reproachful glance. "Hush, Conla! reproach not the powers above; they are most merciful, and will protect us. Hark! they answer!" At this moment a heavy peal of thunder crashed over head, and, rolling towards the castle, seemed to expend itself over its summit. "Dread lady," cried Eva, animated to unusual courage by the omen, "hearken to that, and yield to the powers of Heaven!-they declare against thy tyranny!" "Never!" roared the tyrant, her eyes flashing baleful fire. "Sooner will I become part of this mountain on which I stand mistress, than ye shall escape me!" As she spoke, she gave a pull with her utmost strength to the chains. At the moment a vivid flash of lightning darted from the clouds, and the chains snapped right asunder. With the force of the shock the Black Lady was precipitated into the sea, the island at the same time rebounding back and becoming fixed for ever about halfway between Dursey and Bohis Head. The Baon Ri Dhuv's tenants and servants spent the night in vainly searching for her. The morning revealed to them a terrible sight. Upon the extremity of the cape her well-known visage appeared, but transformed to stone, and doomed for ages to remain there, lashed by the raging billows of the ocean. Thus was her fatal wish accomplished! The island so strangely brought round, remains where it recoiled to, and is now known by the name of Scariff. It is still rich land, and feeds many herds; a strong proof of the authenticity of this tale, and which is farther borne out by the fact, that the hole through which the towing-chains were rove remains to this hour. Conla and Eva lived happily for the rest of their days where they were, and left a numerous progeny. It is said that the little old man who, with his strapping offspring, fourteen in number, now tenants the island, is their lineal descendant. The emerald that Conla threw away was afterwards found, and preserved as a memorial of the events narrated until the times of Cromwell; when some of his soldiers, having visited the island for the laudable purpose of killing a friar who lived there as a hermit, indulged another of their virtuous propensities by carrying the jewel away with them. BOB BURNS AND BERANGER. SAM LOVER AND OVIDIUS NASO. BY FATHER PROUT. TO THE EDITOR OF BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY. SIR,-Under the above title I forward you two more scraps from Water-grass-hill. The first is a glee in praise of poverty, a subject on which poets of every country have a common understanding. The Italian Berni, indeed, went a step farther when he sang the "comforts of being in debt,"-La laude del debito; but your enthusiast never knows where to stop. This MS. may suit in the present state of the money market, a bill drawn by Burns and endorsed by Beranger. You can rely on the Scotchman's signature, experto crede Roberto; while there can be no doubt that the French songster's financial condition fully entitles him to join Burns in an attempt of this kind. Since, however, much spurious paper appears to be afloat, you will use your own discretion as to the foreign acceptance. Of Scrap No. VI. I say nothing, Doctor Prout having left a note on the subject prefixed to the same. Yours, &c. Water-grass-hill, April 20. RORY O'DRYSCULL. We pass him by, We dare be poor for a' that: For a' that, and a' that, Our toils obscure, And a' that; The rank is but The guinea's stamp, Quoi! Pauvre honnête Baisser la tête ? Quoi! rougir de la sorte? Que l'âme basse S'éloigne et passe Nous soyons gueux! n'importe ! Travail obscur N'importe ! Quand l'or est pur N'importe ! Qu'il ne soit point The MAN's the gowd for a' that. D'un noble rang-qu'importe ! Ca fait-il L'HOMME? eh, nullement ! And a' that; But an HONEST MAN 's aboon his might, Guid faith he manna fa' that. For a' that, for a' that, Their dignities, And a' that; The pith o' sense And pride o' warth Tristes faveurs ! Réellement ; Le fier maintien Are higher ranks than a' that. Leur manque essentiellement. Possevino, in his History of the Gonzagas, (fol. Mantua, 1620,) tells us, at page 781, that a Polish army, having penetrated to the Euxine, found the ashes, with many MSS. of Ovid under a marble monument, which they transferred in pomp to Cracow, A.D. 1581. It is well known that the exiled Roman had written sundry poems in barbaric metre to gratify the Scythian and Getic literati with whom he was surrounded. We have his own words for it: |