Donna Ignez at that time resided at Coimbra, in the palace of Santa Clara, where she passed her time in the most private manner, educating her children, and attending to the duties of her domestic affairs. The prince, her husband, unfortunately, was abroad on a hunting party when the king arrived. The beautiful victim came out to meet the latter, with her two infant children, who clung about his knees, screaming aloud for mercy. The princess prostrated herself at his feet, bathed them with tears, and supplicated pity for her children; beseeching him to banish herself to some remote desert, where she would gladly wander as an exile with her children. The feelings of nature arrested the monarch's arm, just raised to plunge a dagger into her breast. But his councillors urging the necessity of her death, and reproaching his disregard to the welfare of the nation, he relapsed into his former resolution, and commanded them to dispatch her; at which they rushed forward,-regardless of the cries of innocence and beauty,-and instantly struck off her head! Soon after the above transaction, the prince arrived; but, alas! found those eyes, that were wont to watch his retu n with impatience, closed in death. The sight of his beloved Ignez weltering in gore filled his mind with distraction, and kindled every spark of revenge within his soul. In all the agony of rage, he called aloud on the avenging hand of heaven to punish those monsters who deprived him of all he held dear upon earth. As soon as her remains were interred, he put himself at the head of an army, who sympathized with his distress; they carried fire and sword through the adjacent provinces, and laid waste the estates of the murderers. The royal troops could not oppose them: they fled the appearance of the gallant avengers of innocence. But the king, wretched man! could not fly from himself; the cries of his grandchildren still echoed in his ears, and the bleeding image of their unfortunate mother was constantly before his eyes. Death, at length commiserated his situation, and he expired full of re pentance for his accumulated crimes.-He had been an undutiful son, an unnatural brother, and a cruel father. The prince now ascended the throne, in the thirtyseventh year of his age. He no sooner obtained the power, than he meditated to revenge the death of his beloved Ignez. The three murderers; namely, Pedro Ceollo, Diogo Lopez Pacheo, and Alvaro Gonsalvez, had fled into Castile, previously to the death of the late king. Pedro ordered them to be tried on a charge of high treason; and being found guilty, their estates were confiscated. Next, he contrived to seize their persons, by agreeing with the King of Castile, that both should reciprocally deliver up the Portuguese and Castilian fugitives, who sought protection in their respective dominions. Gonsalvez and Coello were accordingly arrested, and sent in chains to Portugal; Pacheo escaped into France. The King was at Santarem when the dilenquents were brought to him; he instantly ordered them to be laid on a pyre that was previously formed, contiguous to which he had a banquet prepared. Before the torch was kindled, and while they agonized at every pore under the most lingering tortures, their hearts were cut out,—one at his breast, the other at his back. Lastly, the pyre was set on a blaze, in presence of which he dined, while they evaporated in flames! Having thus far appeased his insatiable thirst of revenge, he ordered his marriage with Donna Ignez to be published throughout the kingdom: her body was then taken out of the sepulchre, covered with regal robes, and placed on a magnificent throne, around which his ministers assembled, and did homage to their lawful queen. After this ceremony, her corpse was translated from Coimbra to Alcobaca, with a pomp hitherto unknown in the kingdom;-though the distance between these two places is fiftytwo miles, yet the road was lined on both sides all the way with people holding lighted tapers. The funeral was attended by all the noblemen and gentlemen in Portugal, dressed in long mourning cloaks; their ladies also attended, dressed in white mourning veils. The cloud which the above disaster cast over the mind of Don Pedro was never totally dispersed; and as he lived in a state of celibacy the remainder of his life, agreeably to his vow, there was nothing to divert his attention from ruminating on the fate of his beloved wife. The impression her death made on him was strongly characterized, not only in the tortures he inflicted on her murderers, but also in all the acts of his administration; which, from their severity, induced some to give him the appellation of Pedro the Cruel; by others he was called Pedro the Just; and, upon the whole, it appears that the last title more properly appertained to him. The two English Tragedies that have been framed from the above melancholy story of Ignez and Don Pedro, are entitled" ELVIRA," and "IGNEZ DE CASTRO." TO THE SUNSET ZEPHYR. 66 BY H. C. DEAKIN, AUTHOR OF THE DELIVERANCE OF Come, with thy beautiful, visionless wings, Beneath the green boughs of the lithe willow tree. Come, whilst I'm watching, as I am reclining, Come, when the sun-blush is upon the skies, From the orb of the moon, to the shrine of the star. Come, breathe on my cheek-come, breathe on my brow, Softly as sigh of a fond maiden's vow, When her heart is a sunset-her cheek is the same, Oh! breathe thy Æolian strains on my ear, Come, visionless zephyr-come beautiful breeze, THE WISE PRINCESS. A GERMAN LEGEND. Nigh to Marburg, on the borders of a forest, rises a mountain called the Christenberg. On this mountain, in ancient times, a certain king dwelt, in a strong castle. The queen, his wife, had died, leaving an only child, a daughter, who possessed many marvellous gifts, on account of which her father, the king, became exceedingly fond of her. Now it came to pass that his neighbour, king Grünewald (green wood), coveted his possessions, and came with a great army to besiege the castle on the Christenberg. Long the enemy lay before it, but the wise young princess was not at all dismayed herself, and her father took good heart when he beheld her courage, and held out against the foe. But when the morning sun of the first of May had risen upon the earth, behold the army of king Grünewald was seen advancing against the castle and it seemed as if a great forest of living trees had been put in motion, for every soldier bore a large green bough in his hand. Then the maiden's courage quailed, for she now knew that all was lost; and she spake to the king these words: Whereupon the king, who relied more upon his daughter's wisdom than his own, sent the wise princess into the enemy's camp, where she succeeded in obtaining from King Grünewald a safe passage for herself, and permission to carry with her as much as a single ass could bear. And what did the good daughter put upon her ass? Her own father and her most valuable jewels; and with these, her most precious possessions, she took her way unmolested to another country. THE KNIGHT-ERRANT'S SERENADE. BY MRS. CRAWFORD. Oh! list to me, my lady bright! Oh! list to me, my lady bright! I've wandered through the pathless snow, Oh! give me, sweet one, ere I go, A flower, a ribbon, from thy hair, Oh! list to me, my lady bright! Speak from thy latticed bower, and say,— Wilt thou reward a faithful knight, And send him, light of heart, away? So light, as only heart can be, That loves, and is beloved of thee. Oh! list to me! |