smother their disappointment, so far as to make up to him with well-bred congratulations, and well-acted cordiality; till, recovering from the chill of despair that weighed down his spirits, the fond parent requested his friends to be seated, and proceeded to open the business of the evening.

Meanwhile, Florestano Pavesi de Negri, the innocent cause of all this distress and agony, had quitted his father's mansion, leisurely and reluctantly wending his way to the Casino.

A liberal education, a free intercourse with the world, a prolonged journey to the North, whither he had accompanied his Genoese relative, and perhaps natural gifts of sounder sense, had set him widely at variance with his father's obsolete notions. He was nowhere more ill at ease than amidst all the tawdry grandeur and pompous dulness of his ancestral dwelling. The father himself was even more surprised than delighted at the prolonged stay of his darling boy, in the present instance, unaware of the spell of Teresina's black eyes, by which all the wonder had been achieved.

During these three months of the young officer's furlough, the lovers had frequent interviews. Teresina's uncle was hardly just to her in his panegyrics of her charms. Teresina had a cultivated mind-the result of early education with her parents at Genoa; and a naturally radiant wit to set off those limited acquirements to ten times their positive amount; and the delighted Florestan was soon made aware that the low-born maiden might be, in every respect, a meet companion for a man of even higher pretensions than his own.

How far the young lord, with penury staring him in the face, might be also actuated by less romantic considerations of the money-lender's position, and of the probable reversion of his strong-box to his lovely niece need not here be discussed; neither shall we inquire to what extent, a malicious wish to inflict the deepest and most incurable wound on the old marquis, by inveigling his son into a mésalliance with the usurer's child, might have tended to enlist the latter in the lover's cause, and brought him to enter into their views with an alacrity that exceeded their brightest anticipations. Suffice it, that the very best understanding reigned between the trio; the old marquis's views being only by one of them, looked upon as a grave obstacle to the consummation of their common desire.

Full of these thoughts the enamoured youth tarried under the windows of his black-eyed maiden. He was tall and well-made, and wrapped as he was in the broad folds of his military cloak, his fine stature assumed gigantic dimensions in the deep shade of night. His cocked hat was lowered over his brow, and the lofty plume waved gracefully in the wind. Suddenly a streak of light darted through the Genoese's door, and danced fitfully over the frosty pavement. The broad, rubicund face of the moneylender shone on the threshold, animated with a grin of delight at having caught the lurker about his premises. He had been in ambush for him. He beckoned the youth in, pushed him through the entrance, and was soon heard bolting and barring the door from within.

Immediately he busied himself about his guest's comforts with an eagerness such as he had never before exhibited. He took his plumed hat from his head, disencumbered him of his cloak, took the sword from his side, as if constituting him his prisoner, and as he took one article after another from him, he threw them on his shoulder, put them under his arms, taking possession of them with a cunning look, as if he had some great design upon them. Finally, he led the way into his cheerful par

lour, set the perplexed gallant by the side of his own blushing Teresa, bade him be merry and make himself at home, and left the fond couple to the enjoyment of their unlooked-for bliss, while he walked away carrying the youth's trappings along with him.

Half-past eight, nine, had in the meantime struck at the clock of the Casino, and the noble dotard was not yet at the end of his long-winded harangue. He had traced his genealogy as far back as the founder of the family, the first Florestano, who had slain in battle the King of Macoco, a mighty monarch from the very centre of Africa, who had crossed over to Italy in the suite of Genseric the Vandal, and as, agreeably to the manners of those chivalrous times, he had brought home with him the spoils of the vanquished, and ever afterwards wore on the battlefield the very Pavese or shield taken from the negro king-he had thus given origin to the patronymic appellation of Pavese del Negro, in which, with the very slightest possible modification, the family gloried to the present day. The orator proceeded to unfold the subsequent exploits of one hundred and fifty of the lineal inheritors of that proud name, and after a brief and modest allusion to his humble self, he launched out into the praises of the hopeful heir, the hero of the night, whom he described not only as a restorer of the glories of the house, but also as a vindicator of all the honours and privileges of the order his redoubted audience belonged to.

Here paternal and patrician emotion ran away with the noble speaker. Unconscious of the yawns, low but deep, that hunger and ennui forced from the very heart of his well-bred colleagues, unaware of the murmurs of the storming multitude outside, he prolonged his entangled and tautological peroration, till he no longer knew what fell from his lips.

A sense of uneasiness, of ill-dissembled impatience, wonder, and indignation at the Marchesino's unaccountable absence might be perceived in him, in the midst of all his warmth of delivery. He stole frequent hurried glances at the door, where his eye, however, was only met by the impassible, stolid look of the head-beadle. He shifted his posture from right to left, he fretted and fidgetted. A thought, a terrible one, shot through his head,-that the rabble-that Quartin-that the enemy might have waylaid, arrested,-who knows? murdered the expected one.

At last he came to a sudden pause. There were footsteps in the vestibule ; a black panache was seen waving on the threshold. "Here he is!" exclaimed he, no longer attempting to master his feelings; and with the quickness and springiness of his better days, he bounded from his elevated station, and rushed to the candidate's rencounter.

Every eye was naturally turned in the direction of the new comer. The youth, hitherto a mere boy, and permanently domiciled abroad, was utterly unknown to many in the assemblage; and the father's exaggerated encomiums had set expectation on the utmost stretch.

The new candidate stepped forward all wrapped in his ample cloak, without removing his plumed shako: the heavy tramp of his iron heel resounded fiercely on the marble floor, and his ponderous falchion formidably rattled and clattered after him. There was staggering in his tread, which the already prepossessed bystanders attributed to his filial emotion. He held his hands stretched forwards towards his aged parent, and clumsily enough, truth to say, he hobbled and blundered up to him. The July.-VOL. LXXX. NO, CCCXIX.

T

marquis, however, went two-thirds of the way to meet him, and fell, almost sobbing, into his outstretched arms.

With as sudden a movement, however, after the first hug, he drew back in dismay. He uttered a cry of alarm: cold drops of sudden horror oozed from his countenance.

There was universal amazement: many of the nobles moved forward the marquis threw himself in the arms of the nearest.

Suddenly the new member, as if enjoying the consternation he had created, lifted up his dark countenance from the folds of his mantle: he gazed haughtily, scornfully round, and broke out into a tremendous, triumphant Hee-haw!!

It was Sibillin, Girolamo's versatile friend, the phoenix of donkeys!

And behold, as with the shifting of scenes at a melodrama, in, after the donkey, came the donkey-master, in, after him, howling, roaring, bawling, streamed the tag-rag and bobtail. Taken by surprise, the illustrious members jumped up from their seats. They thronged like sheep, now to one corner, now to the opposite, anywhere, far from the contact of the unwashed invaders. The contest never lasted a minute. Out at the back-doors, out at the windows, vanished the routed aristocracy. The mobocracy had for once carried the day.

Our friend the marquis alone held his ground, being too far out of his senses to think of escape. A fatal suspicion as to his son's fate lingered also in his mind, in the midst of all that dismal turmoil.

"My son ?" he cried out to Girolamo. "Villain, what has become of my son ?"

"Safe enough, my lord marquis," said the Genoese. "My Lord Florestan sends his best compliments, and begs to acquaint your lordship, that he is now face to face with Teresa, whilst the parish priest of Vignola is splicing the noose for them."

"Base traitor!" exclaimed the old lord, as he made hastily for the door. 66 My carriage! what ho! my domestics!"

"Your lacqueys and carriage send also their respects. The latter sequestered at my bidding: the former in quest of new masters. And, my lord marquis, the bailiffs have possession of the palace since sunset. sunrise the execution begins."

At

The marquis hurried from the spot followed by a yell of derision. The rabble went steadily to work. Malandrino and Spungino issued from the multitude, and the land soon flowed with milk and honey.

On the orgie that ensued, we beg that a veil may be drawn. The marquis found the information imparted by the blunt moneylender perfectly correct. That night he had no roof left to lay his head under. He slept at a friend's and arose another man-from sheer necessity, a wiser man in the morning. He sanctioned the young people's union. The wreck of his property was restored unencumbered to him. He insisted, however, that his son and bride, no less than the hated donkeytrainer, should forthwith remove from Pontremoli. With this condition they complied, and the three, together with the immortal Sibillin, are now thriving at Chiavari.

Neither the marquis himself, nor any of his colleagues, ever again set foot on the desecrated shrine of their idle pastimes. The club-house was let out to the police for a station-house, and, as far as regards Pontremoli, there is an end for ever of the Casino.

THE ALCALDE OF ZALAMEA.

BY JOHN Oxenford.

FROM THE SPANISH OF CALDERON DE LA BARCA.

THE extracts from this drama are translated on a principle different from that adopted in the preceding tales. The ordinary blank verse, hitherto employed, gave them a similarity to the works of the old English dramatists, which, while it tended to make them popular, deprived them of their national peculiarity. The measure now is that of the originals. The rhyme peculiar to Spain, which is known as the Rima asonante has been disregarded, for its adoption would involve a difficulty perhaps insurmountable, and even if it were surmounted no effect perceptible to an English ear would be produced. But where rhyme, generally so called, has been adopted by the author it is also used here, and the rhymes occur in the same order as in the original. The labour of translation is much increased by this method -the same adopted by a connoisseur of the Spanish drama, who wrote in "Blackwood" some years ago, and from whose versions I took the hint for improvement,-but it has the great advantage of exhibiting to the reader an important distinction between the English and the Spanish dramatists, namely, the variety of metre which the latter employs, and which always gives to his work something of a lyrical character.-J. O.

CHAP. I.

THE noise and bustle of the Spanish army on the march of Philip II. to take possession of his newly-acquired kingdom of Portugal, may be easily conceived from the following dialogue, in which Rebolledo, a soldier, Chispa, a woman attached to him, and one or two other soldiers are the speakers. Rebolledo.-May a curse upon him fall,

All.

Who thus makes us march apace,
Trudging on from place to place
Without rest.

Amen, say all.

Rebolledo.-Are we but a gipsy throng,

First Soldier.

That we tramp in such a manner,
Following a roll'd up banner
And a drum?

Complaints again!

Rebolledo.-Which awhile its tumult ceasing

Grants us all the mighty blessing,
Not to split our heads in twain.

First Soldier.-Prithee, grumble not so fast;
For our trouble and vexation,
We shall find a consolation
In our quarters, man, at last.

Rebolledo.-If I die upon the way,

What are quarters, man, to me?
Or if living I should be,

Will they lodge me-who can say?
The alcaldes-this I know-

Will inform the commissary,
That if we no longer tarry,
All the needful hey'll bestow.

He will say at first, no doubt,
There's no chance of his complying,
For the soldiers all are dying.
If they bring their money out,
He says: Soldiers, we're forbidden
By an order to remain,

We must march away again.
So we trudge off, roughly ridden,
We must all comply, you see,
With this order melancholy,

Which makes him a monk, most jolly,
But a mendicant of me.

So, if Zalamea sees us

In its walls to-night, I swear

That when once I'm station'd there,
If to march on they should tease us,
You will have to go without me ;
In my lifetime o'er and o'er,

I have run away before

I confess it-do not doubt me.

First Soldier.-By a miserable end

Has the soldier often paid
For such tricks, I am afraid;
And the case it does not mend,
That as general we have
Don Lope de Figuerroa,
Upon whom they all bestow a*
Name as being stout and brave.
But in dealing curses round,
In his blasphemies and swearing,
In his ranting and his tearing
He's unrivall'd I'll be bound.
He's a judge who hates delay,
Does his business at a stroke.
Rebolledo.-Now, my masters, that's no joke,
Still I'll stick to what I say.

Second Soldier.-Faith, is this a cause for bragging?
Rebolledo.-'Tis not for myself I fear,

But for this poor creature here,
Whom behind me I am dragging.

Chispa.-Señor Rebolledo, no

Such anxiety I scorn.

Bearded was my soul when born,-
You have known it long ago.
Quite insulting is your fear,
I have join'd the army sure,
Ev'ry labour we endure,
With a gallant heart to bear.
Had I wish'd a life of ease,
Surely I was most short-witted,
When the Regidor I quitted.

He had plenty if you please,

There was not a month that pass'd,

But of gifts he had a store,

And there's many a Regidor

Who don't hold his purse too fast.

So, my boys, you see me here,
Marching on with Rebolledo,
Fit to do whate’er I máy do,
Without flinching, without fear.
Give yourself no care about me.

Gentle reader, I know as well as you that "bestow a" is a queer ending of a line, but before you are too wrathful find a rhyme for "Figuerroa," without mentioning a boa-constrictor or the name of a person or place. Nor am I at all sure that something of doggrel does not accord with the spirit of the original.-J. O.