IMOGEN

A Pastoral Romance

_From the Ancient British_

By WILLIAM GODWIN

Preface

[_By_ WILLIAM GODWIN]

The following performance, as the title imports, was originally composedin the Welch language. Its style is elegant and pure. And if thetranslator has not, as many of his brethren have done, suffered thespirit of the original totally to evaporate, he apprehends it will befound to contain much novelty of conception, much classical taste, andgreat spirit and beauty in the execution. It appears under the name ofCadwallo, an ancient bard, who probably lived at least one hundred yearsbefore the commencement of our common era. The manners of the primitivetimes seem to be perfectly understood by the author, and are describedwith the air of a man who was in the utmost degree familiar with them. It is impossible to discover in any part of it the slightest trace ofChristianity. And we believe it will not be disputed, that in a countryso pious as that of Wales, it would have been next to impossible for thepoet, though ever so much upon his guard, to avoid all allusion to thesystem of revelation. On the contrary, every thing is Pagan, and inperfect conformity with the theology we are taught to believe prevailedat that time. 

These reasons had induced us to admit, for a long time, that it wasperfectly genuine, and justly ascribed to the amiable Druid. Withrespect to the difficulty in regard to the preservation of so long awork for many centuries by the mere force of memory, the translator, together with the rest of the world, had already got over that objectionin the case of the celebrated Poems of Ossian. And if he be not blindedby that partiality, which the midwife is apt to conceive for theproductions, that she is the instrument of bringing into the world, thePastoral Romance contains as much originality, as much poetical beauty, and is as happily calculated to make a deep impression upon the memory, as either Fingal, or Temora. 

The first thing that led us to doubt its authenticity, was the strikingresemblance that appears between the plan of the work, and Milton'scelebrated Masque at Ludlow Castle. We do not mean however to hold forththis circumstance as decisive in its condemnation. The pretensions ofCadwallo, or whoever was the author of the performance, are very high tooriginality. If the date of the Romance be previous to that of Comus, itmay be truly said of the author, that he soared above all imitation, andderived his merits from the inexhaustible source of his own invention. But Milton, it is well known, proposed some classical model to himselfin all his productions. The Paradise Lost is almost in every page animitation of Virgil, or Homer. The Lycidas treads closely in the stepsof the Daphnis and Gallus of Virgil. The Sampson Agonistes is formedupon the model of Sophocles. Even the little pieces, L'Allegro and IlPenseroso have their source in a song of Fletcher, and two beautifullittle ballads that are ascribed to Shakespeare. But the classical modelupon which Comus was formed has not yet been discovered. It isinfinitely unlike the Pastoral Comedies both of Italy and England. Andif we could allow ourselves in that licence of conjecture, which isbecome almost inseparable from the character of an editor, we shouldsay: That Milton having written it upon the borders of Wales, might havehad easy recourse to the manuscript whose contents are now first givento the public: And that the singularity of preserving the name of theplace where it was first performed in the title of his poem, wasintended for an ingenuous and well-bred acknowledgement of the sourcefrom whence he drew his choicest materials. 

But notwithstanding the plausibility of these conjectures, we are nowinclined to give up our original opinion, and to ascribe the performanceto a gentleman of Wales, who lived so late as the reign of king Williamthe third. The name of this amiable person was Rice ap Thomas. Theromance was certainly at one time in his custody, and was handed down asa valuable legacy to his descendants, among whom the present translatorhas the honour to rank himself. Rice ap Thomas, Esquire, was a man of amost sweet and inoffensive disposition, beloved and respected by all hisneighbours and tenants, and "passing rich with 'sixty' pounds a year. "In his domestic he was elegant, hospitable, and even sumptuous, for thetime and country in which he lived. He was however naturally of anabstemious and recluse disposition. He abounded in singularities, whichwere pardoned to his harmlessness and his virtues; and his temper wasfull of sensibility, seriousness, and melancholy. He devoted the greaterpart of his time to study; and he boasted that he had almost a completecollection of the manuscript remains of our Welch bards. He was oftenheard to prefer even to Taliessin, Merlin, and Aneurim, the effusions ofthe immortal Cadwallo, and indeed this was the only subject upon whichhe was ever known to dispute with eagerness and fervour. In the midst ofthe controversy, he would frequently produce passages from the PastoralRomance, as decisive of the question. And to confess the truth, I knownot how to excuse this piece of jockeyship and ill faith, even in Riceap Thomas, whom I regard as the father of my family, and the chiefornament of my beloved country. 

Some readers will probably however be inclined to apologise for theconduct of Mr. Thomas, and to lay an equivalent blame to my charge. Theywill tell me, that nothing but the weakest partiality could blind me tothe genuine air of antiquity with which the composition is every whereimpressed, and to ascribe it to a modern writer. But I am conscious tomy honesty and defy their malice. So far from being sensible of anyimproper bias in favour of my ancestor, I am content to strengthen theirhands, by acknowledging that the manuscript, which I am not at alldesirous of refusing to their inspection, is richly emblazoned with allthe discoloration and rust they can possibly desire. I confess that thewording has the purity of Taliessin, and the expressiveness of Aneurim, and is such as I know of no modern Welchman who could write. And yet, inspite as they will probably tell me of evidence and common sense, Istill aver my persuasion, that it is the production of Rice ap Thomas. 

But enough, and perhaps too much, for the question of its antiquity. Itwould be unfair to send it into the world without saying something ofthe nature of its composition. It is unlike the Arcadia of sir PhilipSidney, and unlike, what I have just taken the trouble of running over, the Daphnis of Gessner. It neither on the one hand leaves behind it thelaws of criticism, and mixes together the different stages ofcivilization; nor on the other will it perhaps be found frigid, uninteresting, and insipid. The prevailing opinion of Pastoral seems tohave been, that it is a species of composition admirably fitted for thesize of an eclogue, but that either its nature will not be preserved, orits simplicity will become surfeiting in a longer performance. Andaccordingly, the Pastoral Dramas of Tasso, Guarini, and Fletcher, however they may have been commended by the critics, and admired by thatcredulous train who clap and stare whenever they are bid, have when therecommendation of novelty has subsided been little attended to andlittle read. But the great Milton has proved that this objection is notinsuperable. His Comus is a master-piece of poetical composition. It isat least equal in its kind even to the Paradise Lost. It is interesting, descriptive and pathetic. Its fame is continually increasing, and itwill be admired wherever the name of Britain is repeated, and thelanguage of Britain is understood. 

If our hypothesis respecting the date of the present performance isadmitted, it must be acknowleged that the ingenious Mr. Thomas hastaken the Masque of Milton for a model; and the reader with whom Comusis a favourite, will certainly trace some literal imitations. Withrespect to any objections that may be made on this score to the PastoralRomance, we will beg the reader to bear in mind, that the volumes beforehim are not an original, but a translation. Recollecting this, we may, beside the authority of Milton himself, and others as great poets asever existed who have imitated Homer and one another at least as much asour author has done Comus, suggest two very weighty apologies. In thefirst place, imitation in a certain degree, has ever been considered aslawful when made from a different language: And in the second, theseimitations come to the reader exaggerated, by being presented to him inEnglish, and by a person who confesses, that he has long been conversantwith our greatest poets. The translator has always admired Comus as muchas the Pastoral Romance; he has read them together, and been used toconsider them as illustrating each other. Any verbal coincidences intowhich he may have fallen, are therefore to be ascribed where they aredue, to him, and not to the author. And upon the whole, let theimperfections of the Pastoral Romance be what they will, he trusts heshall be regarded as making a valuable present to the connoisseurs andthe men of taste, and an agreeable addition to the innocent amusementsof the less laborious classes of the polite world. 

BOOK THE FIRST

CHARACTER OF THE SHEPHERDESS AND HER LOVER. --FEAST OF RUTHYN. --SONGS OFTHE BARDS. 

Listen, O man! to the voice of wisdom. The world thou inhabitest was notintended for a theatre of fruition, nor destined for a scene of repose. False and treacherous is that happiness, which has been preceded by notrial, and is connected with no desert. It is like the gilded poisonthat undermines the human frame. It is like the hoarse murmur of thewinds that announces the brewing tempest. Virtue, for such is the decreeof the Most High, is evermore obliged to pass through the ordeal oftemptation, and the thorny paths of adversity. If, in this day of hertrial, no foul blot obscure her lustre, no irresolution and instabilitytarnish the clearness of her spirit, then may she rejoice in the view ofher approaching reward, and receive with an open heart the crown thatshall be bestowed upon her. 

The extensive valley of Clwyd once boasted a considerable number ofinhabitants, distinguished for primeval innocence and pastoralsimplicity. Nature seemed to have prepared it for their reception withall that luxuriant bounty, which characterises her most favoured spots. The inclosure by which it was bounded, of ragged rocks and snow-toptmountains, served but for a foil to the richness and fertility of thishappy plain. It was seated in the bosom of North Wales, the whole faceof which, with this one exception, was rugged and hilly. As far as theeye could reach, you might see promontory rise above promontory. Thecrags of Penmaenmawr were visible to the northwest, and the unequalledsteep of Snowden terminated the prospect to the south. In its farthestextent the valley reached almost to the sea, and it was intersected, from one end to the other, by the beautiful and translucent waters ofthe river from which it receives its name. 

In this valley all was rectitude and guileless truth. The hoarse din ofwar had never reached its happy bosom; its river had never beenimpurpled with the stain of human blood. Its willows had not wept overthe crimes of its inhabitants, nor had the iron hand of tyranny taughtcare and apprehension to seat themselves upon the brow of its shepherds. They were strangers to riches, and to ambition, for they all lived in ahappy equality. He was the richest man among them, that could boast ofthe greatest store of yellow apples and mellow pears. And their onlyobjects of rivalship were the skill of the pipe and the favour ofbeauty. From morn to eve they tended their fleecy possessions. Theirreward was the blazing hearth, the nut-brown beer, and the merry tale. But as they sought only the enjoyment of a humble station, and thepleasures of society, their labours were often relaxed. Often did thesetting sun see the young men and the maidens of contiguous villages, assembled round the venerable oak, or the wide-spreading beech. Thebells rung in the upland hamlets; the rebecs sounded with rude harmony;they danced with twinkling feet upon the level green or listened to thevoice of the song, which was now gay and exhilarating, and now soothedthem into pleasing melancholy. 

Of all the sons of the plain, the bravest, and the most comely, wasEdwin. His forehead was open and ingenuous, his hair was auburn, andflowed about his shoulders in wavy ringlets. His person was not lessathletic than it was beautiful. With a firm hand he grasped theboar-spear, and in pursuit he outstripped the flying fawn. His voice wasstrong and melodious, and whether upon the pipe or in the song, therewas no shepherd daring enough to enter the lists with Edwin. But thoughhe excelled all his competitors, in strength of body, and theaccomplishments of skill, yet was not his mind rough and boisterous. Success had not taught him a despotic and untractable temper, applausehad not made him insolent and vain. He was gentle as the dove. Helistened with eager docility to the voice of hoary wisdom. He had alwaysa tear ready to drop over the simple narrative of pastoral distress. Victor as he continually was in wrestling, in the race, and in the song, the shout of triumph never escaped his lips, the exultation of insult hewas never heard to utter. On the contrary, with mild and unfictitiousfriendship, he soothed the breast of disappointment, and cheered thespirits of his adversary with honest praise. 

But Edwin was not more distinguished among his brother shepherds, thanwas Imogen among the fair. Her skin was clear and pellucid. The fall ofher shoulders was graceful beyond expression. Her eye-brows were arched, and from her eyes shot forth the grateful rays of the rising sun. Herwaist was slender; and as she ran, she outstripped the winds, and herfootsteps were printless on the tender herb. Her mind, though soft, wasfirm; and though yielding as wax to the precepts of wisdom, and thepersuasion of innocence, it was resolute and inflexible to theblandishments of folly, and the sternness of despotism. Her rulingpassion was the love of virtue. Chastity was the first feature in hercharacter. It gave substance to her accents, and dignity to hergestures. Conscious innocence ennobled all her reflexions, and gave toher sentiments and manner of thinking, I know not what of celestial anddivine. 

Edwin and Imogen had been united in the sports of earliest infancy. Theyhad been mutual witnesses to the opening blossoms of understanding andbenevolence in each others breasts. While yet a boy, Edwin had oftenrescued his mistress from the rude vivacity of his playmates, and hadbestowed upon her many of those little distinctions which werecalculated to excite the flame of envy among the infant daughters of theplain. For her he gathered the vermeil-tinctured pearmain, and thewalnut with an unsavoury rind; for her he hoarded the brown filberd, andthe much prized earth-nut. When she was near, the quoit flew from hisarm with a stronger whirl, and his steps approached more swiftly to thedestined goal. With her he delighted to retire from the heat of the sunto the centre of the glade, and to sooth her ear with the gaiety ofinnocence, long before he taught her to hearken to the language of love. For her sake he listened with greater eagerness to the mirthfulrelation, to the moral fiction, and to the song of the bards. His storeof little narratives was in a manner inexhaustible. With them hebeguiled the hour of retirement, and with them he hastened the sun tosink behind the western hill. 

But as he grew to manly stature, and the down of years had begun toclothe his blushing cheek, he felt a new sensation in his breasthitherto unexperienced. He could not now behold his favourite companionwithout emotion; his eye sparkled when he approached her; he watched hergestures; he hung upon her accents; he was interested in all hermotions. Sometimes he would catch the eye of prudent age or ofsharp-sighted rivalry observing him, and he instantly became embarrassedand confused, and blushed he knew not why. He repaired to theneighbouring wake, in order to exchange his young lambs and his hoard ofcheeses. Imogen was not there, and in the midst of traffic, and in themidst of frolic merriment he was conscious to a vacancy and alistlessness for which he could not account. When he tended his flocks, and played upon his slender pipe, he would sink in reverie, and form tohimself a thousand schemes of imaginary happiness. Erewhile they hadbeen vague and general. His spirit was too gentle for him not torepresent to himself a fancied associate; his heart was not narrowenough to know so much as the meaning of a solitary happiness. ButImogen now formed the principal figure in these waking dreams. It wasImogen with whom he wandered beside the brawling rill. It was Imogenwith whom he sat beneath the straw-built shed, and listened to thepealing rain, and the hollow roaring of the northern blast. If a momentof forlornness and despair fell to his lot, he wandered upon the heathwithout his Imogen, and he climbed the upright precipice without herharmonious voice to cheer and to animate him. In a word, passion hadtaken up her abode in his guileless heart before he was aware of herapproach. Imogen was fair; and the eye of Edwin was enchanted. Imogenwas gentle; and Edwin loved. 

Simple as was the character of the inhabitants of this happy valley, itis not to be supposed that Edwin found many obstacles to the enjoymentof the society of his mistress. Though strait as the pine, and beautifulas the gold-skirted clouds of a summer morning, the parents of Imogenhad not learned to make a traffic of the future happiness of their care. They sought not to decide who should be the fortunate shepherd thatshould carry her from the sons of the plain. They left the choice to herpenetrating wit, and her tried discretion. They erected no rampart todefend her chastity; they planted no spies to watch over her reputation. They entrusted her honour to her own keeping. They were convinced, thatthe spotless dictates of conscious innocence, and that divinity thatdwells in virtue and awes the shaggy satyr into mute admiration, wereher sufficient defence. They left to her the direction of her conduct. The shepherdess, unsuspicious by nature, and untaught to view mankindwith a wary and a jealous eye, was a stranger to severity and caprice. She was all gentleness and humanity. The sweetness of her temper led herto regard with an eye of candour, and her benevolence to gratify all theinnocent wishes, of those about her. The character of a womanundistinguishing in her favours, and whose darling employment is toincrease the number of her admirers, is in the highest degree unnatural. Such was not the character of Imogen. She was artless and sincere. Hertongue evermore expressed the sentiments of her heart. She drew theattention of no swain from a rival; she employed no stratagems toinveigle the affections; she mocked not the respect of the simpleshepherd with delusive encouragement. No man charged her with brokenvows; no man could justly accuse her of being cruel and unkind. 

It may therefore readily be supposed, that the subject of love ratherglided into the conversation of Edwin and Imogen, than was regularly anddesignedly introduced. They were unknowing in the art of disguisingtheir feelings. When the tale spoke of peril and bravery, the eyes ofEdwin sparkled with congenial sentiments, and he was evermore ready tostart from the grassy hilloc upon which they sat. When the littlenarrative told of the lovers pangs, and the tragic catastrophe of twogentle hearts whom nature seemed to have formed for mildness andtranquility, Imogen was melted into the softest distress. The breast ofher Edwin would heave with a sympathetic sigh, and he would evensometimes venture, from mingled pity and approbation, to kiss away thetear that impearled her cheek. Intrepid and adventurous with the hero, he began also to take a new interest in the misfortunes of love. Hecould not describe the passionate complaints, the ingenuous tendernessof another, without insensibly making the case his own. "Had the loverknown my Imogen, he would no longer have sighed for one, who could nothave been so fair, so gentle, and so lovely. " Such were the thoughts ofEdwin; and till now Edwin had always expressed his thoughts. But now thewords fell half-formed from his trembling lips, and the sounds died awaybefore they were uttered. "Were I to speak, Imogen, who has alwaysbeheld me with an aspect of benignity, might be offended. I should sayno more than the truth; but Imogen is modest. She does not suspect thatshe possesses half the superiority over such as are called fair, which Isee in her. And who could bear to incur the resentment of Imogen? Whowould irritate a temper so amiable and mild? I should say no more thanthe truth; but Imogen would think it flattery. Let Edwin be charged withall other follies, but let that vice never find a harbour in his bosom;let the imputation of that detested crime never blot his untarnishedname. "

Edwin had received from nature the gift of an honest and artlesseloquence. His words were like the snow that falls beneath the beams ofthe sun; _they melted as they fell_. Had it been his business tohave pleaded the cause of injured innocence or unmerited distress, hisgenerous sympathy and his manly persuasion must have won all hearts. Hadhe solicited the pursuit of rectitude and happiness, his ingenuousimportunity could not have failed of success. But where the mind is toodeeply interested, there it is that the faculties are most treacherous. Ardent were the sighs of Edwin, but his voice refused its assistance, and his tongue faultered under the attempts that he made. Fluent andvoluble upon all other subjects, upon this he hesitated. For the firsttime he was dissatisfied with the expressions that nature dictated. Forthe first time he dreaded to utter the honest wishes of his heart, apprehensive that he might do violence to the native delicacy of Imogen. 

But he needed not have feared. Imogen was not blind to those perfectionswhich every mouth conspired to praise. Her heart was not cold andunimpassioned; she could not see these perfections, united with youthand personal beauty, without being attracted. The accents of Edwin weremusic to her ear. The tale that Edwin told, interested her twice as muchas what she heard from vulgar lips. To wander with Edwin along theflowery mead, to sit with Edwin in the cool alcove, had charms for herfor which she knew not how to account, and which she was at firstunwilling to acknowledge to her own heart. When she heard of the featsof the generous lover, his gallantry in the rural sports, and hisreverence for the fair, it was under the amiable figure of Edwin that hecame painted to her treacherous imagination. She was a stranger toartifice and disguise, and the renown of Edwin was to her the feast ofthe soul, and with visible satisfaction she dwelt upon his praise. Evenin sleep her dreams were of the deserving shepherd. The delusivepleasures that follow in the train of dark-browed night, all told ofEdwin. The unreal mockery of that capricious being, who cheats us withscenes of fictitious wretchedness, was full of the unmerited calamities, the heartbreaking woe, or the untimely death of Edwin. From Edwintherefore the language of love would have created no disgust. Imogen wasnot heedless and indiscreet; she would not have sacrificed the dignityof innocence. Imogen was not coy; she would not have treated her admirerwith affected disdain. She had no guard but virgin modesty and thatconscious worth, _that would be wooed, and not unsought be won_. 

Such was the yet immature attachment of our two lovers, when ananniversary of religious mirth summoned them, together with theirneighbour shepherds of the adjacent hamlet, to the spot which had longbeen consecrated to rural sports and guiltless festivity, near thevillage of Ruthyn. The sun shone with unusual splendour; the Druidicaltemples, composed of immense and shapeless stones, heaped upon eachother by a power stupendous and incomprehensible, reflected back hisradiant beams. The glade, the place of destination to the frolicshepherds, was shrouded beneath two venerable groves that encircled iton either side. The eye could not pierce beyond them, and theimagination was in a manner embosomed in the vale. There were thequivering alder, the upright fir, and the venerable oak crowned withsacred mistletoe. They grew upon a natural declivity that descendedevery way towards the plain. The deep green of the larger trees wasfringed towards the bottom with the pleasing paleness of the willow. From one of the groves a little rivulet glided across the plain, and wasintersected on one side by a stream that flowed into it from a pointequally distant from either extremity of its course. Both these streamswere bordered with willows. In a word, upon the face of this beautifulspot all appeared tranquility and peace. It was without a path, and youwould imagine that no human footsteps had ever invaded the calmness ofits solitude. It was the eternal retreat of the venerable anchorite; itwas the uninhabited paradise in the midst of the trackless ocean. 

Such was the spot where the shepherds and shepherdesses of a hundredcots were now assembled. In the larger compartiments of the vale, themore muscular and vigorous swains pursued the flying ball, or contendedin the swift-footed race. The bards, venerable for their age and thesnowy whiteness of their hair, sat upon a little eminence as umpires ofthe sports. In the smaller compartiments, the swains, mingled with thefair, danced along the level green, or flew, with a velocity thatbeguiled the eager sight, beneath the extended arms of their fellows. Here a few shepherds, apart from the rest, flung the ponderous quoitthat sung along the air. There two youths, stronger and more athleticthan the throng, grasped each others arms with an eager hand, andstruggled for the victory. Now with manly vigour the one shook thesinewy frame of the other; now they bended together almost to the earth, and now with double force they reared again their gigantic stature. Atone time they held each other at the greatest possible distance; andagain, their arms, their legs and their whole bodies entwined, theyseemed as if they had grown together. When the weaker or less skilfulwas overthrown, he tumbled like a vast and mountain oak, that for ageshad resisted the tumult of the winds; and the whole plain resounded athis fall. Such as were unengaged formed a circle round the wrestlers, and by their shouts and applause animated by turns the flagging courageof either. 

And now the sun had gained his meridian height, and, fatigued withlabour and heat, they seated themselves upon the grass to partake oftheir plain and rural feast. The parched wheat was set out in baskets, and the new cheeses were heaped together. The blushing apple, the goldenpear, the shining plum, and the rough-coated chesnut were scattered inattractive confusion. Here were the polished cherry and the downy peach;and here the eager gooseberry, and the rich and plenteous clusters ofthe purple grape. The neighbouring fountain afforded them a cool andsparkling beverage, and the lowing herds supplied the copious bowl withwhite and foaming draughts of milk. The meaner bards accompanied theartless luxury of the feast with the symphony of their harps. 

The repast being finished, the company now engaged in those less activesports, that exercise the subtility of the wit, more than the agility orstrength of the body. Their untutored minds delighted themselves in thesly enigma, and the quaint conundrum. Much was their laughter at thewild guesses of the thoughtless and the giddy; and great the triumph ofthe swain who penetrated the mystery, and successfully removed theabstruseness of the problem. Many were the feats of skill exhibited bythe dextrous shepherd, and infinite were the wonder and admiration ofthe gazing spectators. The whole scene indeed was calculated to displaythe triumph of stratagem and invention. A thousand deceits werepractised upon the simple and unsuspecting, and while he looked round todiscover the object of the general mirth, it was increased into burstsof merriment, and convulsive gaiety. At length they rose from theverdant green, and chased each other in mock pursuit. Many flew towardsthe adjoining grove; the pursued concealed himself behind the dark andimpervious thicket, or the broad trunk of the oak, while the pursuers ranthis way and that, and cast their wary eyes on every side. Carefullythey explored the bushes, and surveyed each clump of tufted trees. Andnow the neighbouring echoes repeated the universal shout, and proclaimedto the plain below, that the object of their search was found. Fatiguehowever, in spite of the gaiety of spirit with which their sports werepursued, began to assert his empire, and they longed for thattranquility and repose which were destined to succeed. 

At this instant the united sound of the lofty harp, the melodious rebec, and the chearful pipe, summoned them once again to the plain. From everyside they hastened to the lawn, and surrounded, with ardent eyes, andpanting expectation, the honoured troop of the bards, crowned withlaurel and sacred mistletoe. And now they seated themselves upon thetender herb; and now all was stilness and solemn silence. Not onewhisper floated on the breeze; not a murmur was heard. The tumultuouswinds were hushed, and all was placid composure, save where the gentlezephyr fanned the leaves. The tinkling rill babbled at their feet; thefeathered choristers warbled in the grove; and the deep lowings of thedistant herds died away upon the ear. The solemn prelude began from afull concert of the various instruments. It awakened attention in thethoughtless, and composed the frolic and the gay into unbrokenheedfulness. The air was oppressed with symphonious sounds, and the earfilled with a tumult of harmony. 

On a sudden the chorus ceased: Those instruments which had united theirforce to fill the echoes of every grove, and of every hill, were silent. And now a bard, of youthful appearance, but who was treated with everymark of honour and distinction, and seated on the left hand of the hoaryLlewelyn, the prince of song, struck the lyre with a lofty and daringhand. His eye sparkled with poetic rapture, and his countenance beamedwith the sublime smile of luxuriant fancy and heaven-born inspiration. He sung of the wanton shepherd, that followed, with ungenerousperseverance, the chaste and virgin daughter of Cadwallo. The Gods tookpity upon her distress, the Gods sent down their swift and wingedmessenger to shield her virtue, and deliver her from the persecution ofModred. With strong and eager steps the ravisher pursued: timidapprehension, and unviolated honour, urged her rapid flight. But Modredwas in the pride of youth; muscular and sinewy was the frame of Modred. Beauteous and snowy was the person of the fair: her form was delicate, and her limbs were tender. If heaven had not interposed, if the Gods hadnot been on her side, she must have fallen a victim to savage fury andbrutal lust. But, in the crisis of her fate, she gradually sunk awaybefore the astonished eyes of Modred. That beauteous frame was now nomore, and she started from before him, swifter than the winds, a timidand listening hare. Still, still the hunter pursued; he suspended notthe velocity of his course. The speed of Modred was like the roe uponthe mountains; every moment he gained upon the daughter of Cadwallo. Butnow the object of his pursuit vanished from his sight, and eluded hiseager search. In vain he explored every thicket, and surveyed all thepaths of the forest. While he was thus employed, on a sudden there burstfrom a cave a hungry and savage wolf; it was the daughter of Cadwallo. Modred started with horror, and in his turn fled away swifter than thewinds. The fierce and ravenous animal pursued; fire flashed from theeye, and rage and fury sat upon the crest. Mild and gentle was thedaughter of Cadwallo; her heart relented; her soft and tender spiritbelied the savage form. They approached the far famed stream of Conway. Modred cast behind him a timid and uncertain eye; the virgin passedalong, no longer terrible, a fair and milk white hind. Modred inflamedwith disappointment, reared his ponderous boar spear, and hurled it fromhis hand. Too well, ah, cruel and untutored swain! thou levelest thyaim. Her tender side is gored; her spotless and snowy coat is deformedwith blood. Agitated with pain, superior to fear, she plunges in theflood. When lo! a wonder; on the opposite shore she rises, radiant andunhurt, in her native form. Modred contemplates the prodigy withastonishment; his lust and his brutality inflame him more than ever. Eagerly he gazes on her charms; in thought he devours her inexpressivebeauties. And now he can no longer restrain himself; with sudden starthe leaps into the river. The waves are wrought into a sudden tempest;they hurry him to and fro. He buffets them with lusty arms; he ridesupon the billows. But vain is human strength; the unseen messenger ofthe Gods laughs at the impotent efforts of Modred. At length the watersgape with a frightful void; the bottom, strewed with shells, andovergrown with sea-weed, is disclosed to the sight. Modred, unhappyModred, sinks to rise no more. His beauty is tarnished like the flowerof the field; his blooming cheek, his crimson lip, is pale andcolourless. Learn hence, ye swains, to fear the Gods, and to reverencethe divinity of virtue. Modred never melted for another's woe; the tearof sympathy had not moistened his cheek. The heart of Modred washaughty, insolent and untractable; he turned a deaf ear to thesupplication of the helpless, he listened not to the thunder of theGods. Let the fate of Modred be remembered for a caution to theprecipitate; let the children of the valley learn wisdom. Heaven neverdeserts the cause of virtue; chastity wherever she wanders (_be it notdone in pride or in presumption_) is sacred and invulnerable. 

Such was the song of the youthful bard. Every eye was fixed upon hisvisage while he struck the lyre; the multitude of the shepherds appearedto have no faculty but the ear. And now the murmur of applause began;and the wondering swains seemed to ask each other, whether the God ofsong were not descended among them. "Oh glorious youth, " cried they, "how early is thy excellence! Ere manhood has given nerve and vigour tothy limbs, ere yet the flowing beard adorns thy gallant breast, naturehas unlocked to thee her hidden treasures, the Gods have enriched theewith all the charms of poetry. Great art thou among the bards;illustrious in wisdom, where they all are wise. Should gracious heavenspare thy life, we will cease to weep the death of Hoel; we will lamentno longer the growing infirmities of Llewelyn. "

While they yet spoke, a bard, who sat upon the right hand of the prince, prepared to sweep the string. He was in the prime of manhood. Hisshining locks flowed in rich abundance upon his strong and gracefulshoulders. His eye expressed more of flame than gaiety, more ofenthusiasm than imagination. His brow, though manly, and, as it shouldseem, by nature erect, bore an appearance of solemn and contemplative. He had ever been distinguished by an attachment to solitude, and a lovefor those grand and tremendous objects of uncultivated nature with whichhis country abounded. His were the hanging precipice, and the foamingcataract. His ear drank in the voice of the tempest; he was rapt inattention to the roaring thunder. When the contention of the elementsseemed to threaten the destruction of the universe, when Snowdon bowedto its deepest base, it was then that his mind was most filled withsublime meditation. His lofty soul soared above the little war ofterrestrial objects, and rode expanded upon the wings of the winds. Yetwas the bard full of gentleness and sensibility; no breast was moresusceptible to the emotions of pity, no tongue was better skilled in thesoft and passionate touches of the melting and pathetic. He possessed akey to unlock all the avenues of the heart. 

Such was the bard, and this was the subject of his song. He told of adreadful famine, that laid waste the shores of the Menai. Heaven, not topunish the shepherds, for, alas, what had these innocent shepherds done?but in the mysterious wisdom of its ways, had denied the refreshingshower, and the soft-descending dew. From the top of Penmaenmawr, as faras the eye could reach, all was uniform and waste. The trees wereleafless, not one flower adorned the ground, not one tuft of verdureappeared to relieve the weary eye. The brooks were dried up; their bedsonly remained to tell the melancholy tale, Here once was water; thetender lambs hastened to the accustomed brink, and lifted up theirinnocent eyes with anguish and disappointment. The meadows no longerafforded pasture of the cattle; the trees denied their fruits to man. Inthis hour of calamity the Druids came forth from their secret cells, andassembled upon the heights of Mona. This convention of the servants ofthe Gods, though intended to relieve the general distress, for a momentincreased it. The shepherds anticipated the fatal decree; they knew thatat times like this the blood of a human victim was accustomed to be shedupon the altars of heaven. Every swain trembled for himself or hisfriend; every parent feared to be bereaved of the staff of his age. Andnow the holy priest had cast the lots in the mysterious urn; and the lotfell upon the generous Arthur. Arthur was beloved by all the shepherdsthat dwelt upon the margin of the main; the praise of Arthur sat uponthe lips of all that knew him. But what served principally to enhancethe distress, was the attachment there existed between him and thebeauteous Evelina. Mild was the breast of Evelina, unused to encounterthe harshness of opposition, or the chilly hand and forbiddingcountenance of adversity. From twenty shepherds she had chosen thegallant Arthur, to reward his pure and constant love. Long had they beendecreed to make each other happy. No parent opposed himself to theirvirtuous desires; the blessing of heaven awaited them from the hand ofthe sacred Druid. But in the general calamity of their country they hadno heart to rejoice; they could not insult over the misery of all aroundthem. "Soon, oh soon, " cried the impatient shepherd, "may the wrath ofheaven be overpast! Extend, all-merciful divinity, thy benign influenceto the shores of Arvon! Once more may the rustling of the shower refreshour longing ears! Once more may our eyes be gladdened with the pearly, orient dew! May the fields be clothed afresh in cheerful green! May theflowers enamel the verdant mead! May the brooks again brawl along theirpebbly bed! And may man and beast rejoice together!" Ah, short-sighted, unapprehensive shepherd! thou dost not know the misfortune that isreserved for thyself; thou dost not know, that thou shalt not live tobehold those smiling scenes which thy imagination forestallest; thoudost not see the dart of immature and relentless death that is suspendedover thee. Think, O ye swains, what was the universal astonishment andpity, when the awful voice of the Druid proclaimed the decree of heaven!Terror sat upon every other countenance, tears started into every othereye; but the mien of Arthur was placid and serene. He came forward fromthe throng; his eyes glistened with the fire of patriotism. "Hear me, mycountrymen, " cried he, "for you I am willing to die. What is myinsignificant life, when weighed against the happiness of Arvon? Begrateful to the Gods, that, for so poor a boon, they are willing tospread wide the hand of bounty, and to exhaust upon your favoured headsthe horn of plenty. " While he spoke he turned his head to the spot fromwhich he had advanced, and beheld, a melting object, Evelina, pale andbreathless, supported in the arms of the maidens. For a moment he forgothis elevated sentiments and his heroism, and flew to raise her. "Evelina, mistress of my heart, awake. Lift up thine eyes and bless thyArthur. Be not too much subdued by my catastrophe. Live to comfort thegrey hairs, and to succour the infirmities of your aged parent. " Whilethe breast of Arthur was animated with such sentiments, and dictated aconduct like this, the priests were employed in the mournfulpreparations. The altar was made ready; the lambent fire ascended fromits surface; the air was perfumed with the smoke of the incense; thefillets were brought forth; and the sacred knife glittered in the handof the chief of the Druids. The bards had strung their harps, and beganthe song of death. The sounds were lofty and animating, they were fittedto inspire gallantry and enterprise into the trembling coward; they werefitted to breathe a soul into the clay-cold corse. The spirit of Arthurwas roused; his eye gleamed with immortal fire. The aged oak, thatstrikes its root beneath the soil, so defies the blast, and so rears itshead in the midst of the whirlwind. But oh, who can paint the distressof Evelina? Now she dropped her head, like the tender lily whose stalk, by some vulgar and careless hand has been broken; and now she was wildand ungovernable, like the wild beast that has been robbed of its young. For an instant the venerable name of religion awed her into mutesubmission. But when the fatal moment approached, not the Gods, if theGods had descended in all their radiant brightness, could haverestrained her any longer. The air was rent with her piercing cries. Shespoke not. Her eyes, in silence turned towards heaven, distilled aplenteous shower. At length, swifter than the winged hawk, she flewtowards the spot, and seized the sacred and inviolable arm of the holyDruid, which was lifted up to strike the final blow. "Barbarous andinhuman priest, " she cried, "cease your vile and impious mummery! Nolonger insult us with the name of Gods. If there be Gods, they aremerciful; but thou art a savage and unrelenting monster. Or if somevictim must expire, strike here, and I will thank thee. Strike, and mybosom shall heave to meet the welcome blow. Do any thing. But oh, spareme the killing, killing spectacle!" During this action the maidensapproached and hurried her from the plain. "Go, " cried Arthur, "and letnot the heart of Evelina be sad. My Death has nothing in it thatdeserves to be deplored. It is glorious and enviable. It shall beremembered when this frame is crumbled into dust. The song of the bardsshall preserve it to never dying fame. " The inconsolable fair one hadnow been forced away. The intrepid shepherd bared his breast to thesacred knife. His nerves trembled not. His bosom panted not. And nowbehold the lovely youth, worthy to have lived through revolving years, sunk on the ground, and weltering in his blood. Yes, gallant Arthur, thou shalt possess that immortality which was the first wish of thyheart! My song shall embalm thy precious memory, thy generous, spotlessfame! But, ah, it is not in the song of the bards to sooth the rootedsorrow of Evelina. Every morning serves only to renew it. Every nightshe bathes her couch in tears. Those objects, which carry pleasure tothe sense of every other fair, serve only to renew thy unexhaustedgrief. The rustling shower, the pearly dew, the brawling brook, thecheerful green, the flower-enameled mead, all join to tell of thebarbarous and untimely fate of Arthur. Smile no more, O ye meads; mocknot the grief of Evelina. Let the trees again be leafless; let therivers flow no longer in their empty beds. A scene like this suits bestthe settled temper of Evelina. 

He ceased. And his pathetic strain had awakened the sympathy of theuniversal throng. Every shepherd hung his mournful head, when theuntimely fate of Arthur was related; every maiden dropped a generoustear over the sorrows of Evelina. They listened to the song, and forgotthe poet. Their souls were rapt with alternate passions, and theyperceived not the matchless skill by which they were excited. The loftybard hurried them along with the rapidity of his conceptions, and leftthem no time for hesitation, and left them no time for reflection. Heceased, and the melodious sounds still hung upon their ear, and theystill sat in the posture of eager attention. At length they recollectedthemselves; and it was no longer the low and increasing murmur ofapplause: it was the exclamation of rapture; it was the unpremeditatedshout of astonishment. 

In the mean time, the reverend Llewelyn, upon whose sacred head ninetywinters had scattered their snow, grasped the lyre, which had so oftenconfessed the master's hand. Though far advanced in the vale of years, there was a strength and vigour in his age, of which the degeneracy ofmodern times can have little conception. The fire was not extinguishedin his flaming eye; it had only attained that degree of chasteness andsolemnity, which had in it by so much the more, all that is majestic, and all that is celestial. His looks held commerce with his nativeskies. No vulgar passion ever visited his heaven-born mind. No vulgaremotion ever deformed the godlike tranquility of his soul. He had butone passion; it was the love of harmony. He was conscious only to oneemotion; it was reverence for the immortal Gods. He sat like theanchorite upon the summit of Snowdon. The tempests raise the foamingocean into one scene of horror, but he beholds it unmoved. The rainsdescend, the thunder roars, and the lightnings play beneath his feet. 

Llewelyn struck the lyre, and the innumerable croud was noiseless andsilent as the chambers of death. They did not now wait for the pleasingtale of a luxuriant imagination, or the pathetic and melting strain ofthe mourner. They composed their spirits into the serenity of devotion. They called together their innocent thoughts for the worship of heaven. By anticipation their bosoms swelled with gratitude, and their heartsdilated into praise. 

The pious Llewelyn began his song from the rude and shapeless chaos. Hemagnified the almighty word that spoke it into form. He sung of theloose and fenny soil which gradually acquired firmness and density. Theimmeasurable, eternal caverns of the ocean were scooped. The watersrushed along, and fell with resounding, foamy violence to the depthbelow. The sun shone forth from his chamber in the east, and the earthwondered at the object, and smiled beneath his beams. Suddenly thewhole face of it was adorned with a verdant, undulating robe. The purpleviolet and the yellow crocus bestrewed the ground. The stately oakreared its branchy head, and the trees and shrubs burst from the surfaceof the earth. Impregnated by power divine, the soil was prolific inother fruits than these. The clods appeared to be informed with aconscious spirit, and gradually assumed a thousand various forms. Theanimated earth seemed to paw the verdant mead, and to despise the mouldfrom which it came. A disdainful horse, it shook its flowing mane, andsnuffed the enlivening breeze, and stretched along the plain. Thered-eyed wolf and the unwieldy ox burst like the mole the concealingcontinent, and threw the earth in hillocs. The stag upreared hisbranching head. The thinly scattered animals wandered among theunfrequented hills, and cropped the untasted herb. Meantime the birds, with many coloured plumage, skimmed along the unploughed air, and taughtthe silent woods and hills to echo with their song. 

Creatures, hymn the praises of your creator! Thou sun, prolific parentof a thousand various productions, by whose genial heat they arenurtured, and whose radiant beams give chearfulness and beauty to theface of nature, first of all the existences of this material universeacknowledge him thy superior, and while thou dispensest a thousandbenefits to the inferior creation, ascribe thine excellencies solely tothe great source of beauty and perfection! And when the sun has ceasedhis wondrous course, do thou, O moon, in milder lustre show to people ofa thousand names the honours of thy maker! Thou loud and wintery northwind, in majestic and tremendous tone declare his lofty praise! Yegentle zephyrs, whisper them to the modest, and softly breathe them inthe ears of the lowly! Ye towering pines, and humble shrubs, ye fragrantflowers, and, more than all, ye broad and stately oaks, bind your heads, and wave your branches, and adore! Ye warbling fountains, warbling tunehis praise! Praise him, ye beasts, in different strains! And let thebirds, that soar on lofty wings, and scale the path of heaven, bear, intheir various melody, the notes of adoration to the skies! Mortals, yefavoured sons of the eternal father, be it yours in articulateexpressions of gratitude to interpret for the mute creation, and tospeak a sublimer and more rational homage. 

Heard ye not the music of the spheres? Know ye not the melody ofcelestial voices? On yonder silver-skirted cloud I see them come. Itturns its brilliant lining on the setting day. And these are the accentsof their worship. "Ye sons of women, such as ye are now, such once werewe. Through many scenes of trial, through heroic constancy, andever-during patience, have we attained to this bright eminence. Largeand mysterious are the paths of heaven, just and immaculate his ways. Ifye listen to the siren voice of pleasure, if upon the neck of heedlessyouth you throw the reins, that base and earth-born clay which now youwear, shall assume despotic empire. And when you quit the present narrowscene, ye shall wear a form congenial to your vices. The fierce andlawless shall assume the figure of the unrelenting wolf. Theunreflecting tyrant, that raised a mistaken fame from scenes ofdevastation and war, shall spurn the ground, a haughty and indignanthorse; and in that form, shall learn, by dear experience, what were thesufferings and what the scourge that he inflicted on mankind. Thesensual shall wear the shaggy vesture of the goat, or foam and whet hishorrid tusks, a wild and untame'd boar. But virtue prepares itspossessor for the skies. Upon the upright and the good, attendant angelswait. With heavenly spirits they converse. On them the dark machinationsof witchcraft, and the sullen spirits of darkness have no power. Eventhe outward form is impressed with a beam of celestial lustre. By slow, but never ceasing steps, they tread the path of immortality and honour. Then, mortals, love, support, and cherish each other. Fear the Gods, andreverence their holy, white-robed servants. Let the sacred oak be yourcare. Worship the holy and everlasting mistletoe. And when all theobjects that you now behold shall be involved in universalconflagration, and time shall be no more; ye shall mix with Gods, yeshall partake their thrones, and be crowned like them with never-fadinglaurel. "

[Illustration]

BOOK THE SECOND

THUNDER STORM. --THE RAPE OF IMOGEN. --EDWIN ARRIVES AT THE GROTTO OFELWY. --CHARACTER OF THE MAGICIAN. --THE END OF THE FIRST DAY. 

The song of Llewelyn was heard by the shepherds with reverence and muteattention. Their blameless hearts were lifted to the skies with thesentiment of gratitude; their honest bosoms overflowed with the fervourof devotion. They proved their sympathy with the feelings of the bard, not by licentious shouts and wild huzzas, but by the composure of theirspirits, the serenity of their countenances, and the deep andunutterable silence which universally prevailed. And now the hoaryminstrel rose from the little eminence, beneath the aged oak, from whosebranches depended the ivy and the honeysuckle, on which the venerationof the multitude had placed him. He came into the midst of the plain, and the sons and the daughters of the fertile Clwyd pressed around him. Fervently they kissed the hem of his garment; eagerly with their eyesthey sought to encounter the benign rays of his countenance. With thedignity of a magistrate, and the tenderness of a father, he lifted hisaged arms, and poured upon them his mild benediction. "Children, I havemet your fathers, and your fathers fathers, beneath the hills of Ruthyn. Such as they were, such are ye, and such ever may ye remain. The lily isnot more spotless, the rose and the violet do not boast a more fragrantodour, than the incense of your prayers when it ascends to the footstoolof the Gods. Guileless and undesigning are you as the yearling lamb;gentle and affectionate as the cooing dove. Qualities like these theGods behold with approbation; to qualities like these the Gods assigntheir choicest blessings. My sons, there is a splendour that dazzles, rather than enlightens; there is a heat that burns rather thanfructifies. Let not characters like these excite your ambition. Be yoursthe unfrequented sylvan scene. Be yours the shadowy and unnoticed valeof obscurity. Here are the mild and unruffled affections. Here arevirtue, peace and happiness. _Here also are_ GODS. "

Having thus said, he dismissed the assembly, and the shepherds preparedto return to their respective homes. Edwin and Imogen, as they had come, so they returned together. The parents of the maiden had confided her tothe care of the gallant shepherds. "She is our only child, " said they, "our only treasure, and our life is wrapt up in her safety. Watch overher like her guardian genius. Bring her again to our arms adorned withthe cheerfulness of tranquility and innocence. " The breast of Edwin wasdilated with the charge; he felt a gentle undulation of pride andconscious importance about his heart, at the honour conferred upon him. 

The setting sun now gilded the western hills. His beams played upontheir summits, and were reflected in an irregular semi-circle ofsplendour, spotless and radiant as the robes of the fairies. The heat ofthe day was over, the atmosphere was mild, and all the objects roundthem quiet and serene. A gentle zephyr fanned the leaves; and theshadows of the trees, projecting to their utmost length, gave anadditional coolness and a soberer tint to the fields through which theypassed. 

The conversation of these innocent and guileless lovers was, as it were, in unison with the placidness of the evening. The sports, in which theyhad been engaged, had inspired them with gaiety, and the songs they hadheard, had raised their thoughts to a sublimer pitch than was usual tothem. They praised the miracles of the tale of Modred; they sympathisedwith the affliction of Evelina; and they spoke with the most unfeignedreverence of the pious and venerable Llewelyn. 

But the harmless chearfulness of their conversation did not last long. The serenity that was around them was soon interrupted, and theirattention was diverted to external objects. Suddenly you might haveperceived a cloud, small and dark, that rose from the bosom of the sea. By swift advances it became thicker and broader, till the whole heavenswere enveloped in its dismal shade. The gentle zephyr, that anon playedamong the trees, was changed into a wind hollow and tumultuous. Itscourse was irregular. Now all was still and silent as the caverns ofdeath; and again it burst forth in momentary blasts, or whirled thestraws and fallen leaves in circling eddies. The light of day wasshrouded and invisible. The slow and sober progress of evening wasforestalled. The woods and the hills were embosomed in darkness. Theirsummits were no longer gilded. One by one the beams of the sun werewithdrawn from each; and at length Snowdon itself could not beperceived. 

Our shepherd and his charge had at this moment reached the mostextensive and unprotected part of the plain. No friendly cot was near toshield them from the coming storm. And now a solemn peal of thunderseemed to roll along over their heads. They had begun to fly, but thetender Imogen was terrified at the unexpected crash, and sunk, almostbreathless, into the arms of Edwin. In the mean time, the lightningsseemed to fill the heavens with their shining flame. The claps ofthunder grew louder and more frequent. They reverberated from rock torock, and from hill to hill. If at any time, for a transitory interval, the tremendous echoes died away upon the ear, it was filled with thehollow roaring of the winds, and the boisterous dashing of the distantwaves. At length the pealing rain descended. It seemed as if all thewaters of heaven were exhausted upon their naked heads. The anxious andafflicted Edwin took his beauteous and insensible companion in his arms, and flew across the plain. 

But at this instant, a more extraordinary and terrifying objectengrossed his attention. An oak, the monarch of the plain, towards whichhe bent his rapid course, was suddenly struck with the bolt of heaven, and blasted in his sight. Its large and spreading branches werewithered; its leaves shrunk up and faded. In the very trunk a gaping andtremendous rift appeared. At the same moment two huge and craggy cliffsburst from the surrounding rocks, to which they had grown for ages, andtumbling with a hideous noise, trundled along the plain. 

At length a third spectacle, more horrible than the rest, presenteditself to the affrighted eyes of Edwin. He saw a figure, larger than thehuman, that walked among the clouds, and piloted the storm. Itsappearance was dreadful, and its shape, loose and undistinguishable, seemed to be blended with the encircling darkness. From its coutenancegleamed a barbarous smile, ten times more terrific than the frown of anyother being. Triumph, inhuman triumph, glistened in its eye, and, withrelentless delight, it brewed the tempest, and hurled the destructivelightning. Edwin gazed upon this astonishing apparition, and knew it fora goblin of darkness. The heart of Edwin, which no human terror couldappal, sunk within him; his nerves trembled, and the objects thatsurrounded him, swam in confusion before his eyes. But it is not forvirtue to tremble; it is not for conscious innocence to fear the powerof elves and goblins. Edwin presently recollected himself, and a gloomykind of tranquility assumed the empire of his heart. He was morewatchful than ever for his beloved Imogen; he gazed with threefoldearnestness upon the fearful spectre. 

A sound now invaded his ear, from the shapeless rocks behind him. Theyrepeated it with all their echoes. It was hollow as the raging wind; andyet it was not the raging wind. It was loud as the roaring thunder; andyet it was not the voice of thunder. But he did not remain long insuspense, from whence the voice proceeded. A wolf, whom hunger had madesuperior to fear, leaped from the rock, upon the plain below. Edwinturned his eyes upon the horrid monster; he grasped his boarspear in hishand. The unconscious Imogen glided from his arms, and he advancedbefore her. He met the savage in his fury, and plunged his weapon in hisside. He overturned the monster; he drew forth his lance reeking withhis blood; his enemy lay convulsed in the agonies of death. But ere hecould return, he heard the sound of a car rattling along the plain. Thereins were of silk, and the chariot shone with burnished gold. Upon thetop of it sat a man, tall, lusty, and youthful. His hair flowed abouthis shoulders, his eyes sparkled with untamed fierceness, and his browwas marked with the haughty insolence of pride. It was Roderic, lord ofa hundred hills; but Edwin knew him not. The goblin descended from itseminence, and directed the course of Roderic. In a moment, he seized thebreathless and insensible Imogen, and lifted her to his car. Edwinbeheld the scene with grief and astonishment; his senses were in amanner overwhelmed with so many successive prodigies. But he did notlong remain inactive; grief and astonishment soon gave way to revenge. He took his javelin, still red with the blood of the mountain wolf, andwhirled it from his hand. Edwin was skilled to toss the dart; from hishand it flew unerring to its aim. Forceful it sung along the air; butthe goblin advanced with hasty steps among the clouds. It touched itwith its hand, and it fell harmless and pointless to the ground. Duringthis action the car of Roderic disappeared. The goblin immediatelyvanished; and Edwin was left in solitude. 

The storm however had not yet ceased. The rain descended with all itsformer fury. The thunder roared with a strong and deafening sound. Thelightnings flamed from pole to pole. But the lightnings flamed, and thethunder roared unregarded. The storm beat in vain upon the unshelteredhead of Edwin. "Where, " cried he, with the voice of anguish and despair, "is my Imogen, my mistress, my wife, the charmer of my soul, the solaceof my heart?" Saying this, he sprung away like the roe upon themountains. His pace was swifter than that of the zephyr when it sweepsalong over the unbending corn. He soon reached the avenue by which thechariot had disappeared from his sight. He leaped from rock to rock; heascended to the summit of the cliff. His eye glanced the swift-flyingcar of Roderic; he knew him by his gilded carriage, and his spangledvest. But he saw him only for a moment. His aching eye pursued thetriumphant flight in vain. "Stay, stay, base ravisher, ingloriouscoward!" he exclaimed. "If thou art a man, return and meet me. I willencounter thee hand to hand. I will not fear the strength of thyshoulders, and the haughtiness of thy crest. If in such a cause, withthe pride of virtue on my side, with all the Gods to combat for me, I amyet vanquished, then be Imogen thine: then let her be submitted to thydespotic power, to thy brutal outrage, and I will not murmur. "

But his words were given to the winds of heaven. Roderic fled far, faraway. The heart of Edwin was wrung with anguish. "Ye kind and mercifulGods!" exclaimed he, "grant but this one prayer, and the voice of Edwinshall no more importune you with presumptuous vows. Blot from the bookof fate the tedious interval. Give me to find the potent villain. Thoughhe be hemmed in with guards behind guards; though his impious mansionstrike its foundations deep to the centre, and rear its head above theclouds; though all the powers of hell combine on his side, I will searchhim out, I will penetrate into his most hidden recess. I can but die. Oh, if I am to be deprived of Imogen, how sweet, how solacing is thethought of death! Let me die in her cause. That were some comfort yet. Let me die in her presence, let her eyes witness the fervour of myattachment, and I will die without a groan. "

Having thus poured forth the anguish of his bosom, he resumed thepursuit. But how could Edwin, alone, on foot, and wearied with thejourney of the day, hope to overtake the winged steeds of Roderic? Andindeed had his speed been tenfold greater than it was, it had beenexerted to no purpose. As the ravisher arrived at the edge of themountain, he struck into a narrow and devious path that led directly tohis mansion. But Edwin, who had for some time lost sight of the chariot, took no notice of a way, covered with moss and overgrown with bushes;and pursued the more beaten road. Swift was his course; but the swifterhe flew, the farther still he wandered from the object of his search. Arapid brook flowed across his path, which the descending rains hadswelled into a river. Without a moment's hesitation, accoutered as hewas, he plunged in. Instantly he gained the opposite bank, and dividedthe air before him, like an arrow in its flight. 

In the mean time, the storm had ceased, the darkness was dispersed, andonly a few thin and fleecy clouds were scattered over the blue expanse. The sun had for some time sunk beneath the western hills. The heavens, clear and serene, had assumed a deeper tint, and were spangled over withstars. The moon, in calm and silver lustre, lent her friendly light tothe weary traveller. Edwin was fatigued and faint. He tried to give ventto his complaints; but his tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth: hisspirits sunk within him. No sound now reached his ears but the baying ofthe shepherds dogs, and the _drowsy tinklings_ of the _distantfolds_. The owl, the solemn bird of night, sat buried among thebranches of the aged oak, and with her melancholy hootings gave anadditional serenity to the scene. At a small distance, on his righthand, he perceived a contiguous object that reflected the rays of themoon, through the willows and the hazels, and chequered the view with aclear and settled lustre. He approached it. It was the lake of Elwy; andnear it he discovered that huge pile of stones, so well known to him, which had been reared ages since, by the holy Druids. It was upon thisspot that they worshipped the Gods. But they had no habitation near it. They repaired thither at stated intervals from the woods of Mona, andthe shores of Arvon. One only Druid lived by the banks of the silverflood, and watched the temple day and night, that no rude hand might doviolence to the sanctity of the place, and no profaner mortal, withsacrilegious foot might enter the mysterious edifice. It was surroundedwith a wall of oaks. The humbler shrubs filled up their interstices, andthere was no avenue to the sacred shade, except by two narrow paths oneither side the lake. 

The solemn stilness of the scene for a moment hushed the sorrows ofEdwin into oblivion. Ah, short oblivion! scarcely had he gazed aroundhim, and drank of the quietness and peace of the scene, ere those recentsorrows impressed his bosom with more anguish than before. Recollectinghimself however, he trod the mead with nimble feet, and approached, trembling and with hesitation, to the eastern avenue. "Hear me, sage andgenerous Madoc, " cried the shepherd, with a voice that glided along thepeaceful lake, "hear the sorrows of the most forlorn of all the sons ofClwyd!" The hermit, who sat at the door of his grotto, perceived thesound, and approached to the place from which it proceeded. The accentwas gentle; and he feared no boisterous intrusion. The accent was tenderand pathetic; and never was the breast of Madoc steeled against thevoice of anguish. "Approach, my son, " he cried. "What disastrous eventhas brought thee hither, so far from thy peaceful home, and at thisstill and silent hour of night? Has any lamb wandered from thy fold, andart thou come hither in pursuit of it?" Edwin was silent. His heartseemed full almost to bursting, and he could not utter a word. "Hastthou wandered from thy companions and missed the path that led to thewell-known hamlet?" "Alas, " said Edwin, "I had a companion once!" and helifted up his eyes to heaven in speechless despair. "Has thy mistressdeserted thee, or have her parents bestowed her on some happier swain?""Yes, " said Edwin, "I have lost her, who was dear to me as the _ruddydrops that visit my sad heart. _ But she was constant. Her parentsapproved of my passion, and consigned her to my arms. " "Has sicknessthen overtaken her, or has untimely death put a period to thy prospects, just as they began to bloom?" "Oh, no, " said the disconsolate shepherd, "I have encountered a disaster more comfortless and wasteful thansickness. I had a thousand times rather have received her last sigh, andclosed her eyes in darkness!"

During this conversation, they advanced along the banks of Elwy, anddrew towards the grotto of the hermit. The hospitable Madoc brought somedried fruits and a few roots from his cell, and spread them before hisguest. He took a bowl of seasoned wood, and hastening to the fountain, that fell with a murmuring noise down the neighing [sic] rock, hepresented the limpid beverage. "Such, " said he, "is my humble fare;partake it with a contented heart, and it shall be more grateful to thytaste, than the high flavoured viands of a monarch. " In the mean time, Madoc, pleased with the benevolent pursuit, gathered some bits of drywood, and setting them on fire, besought the swain to refresh himselffrom the weariness of his travel, and the inclemency of the storm. Butthe heart of Edwin was too full to partake of the provisions that hisattentive host had prepared. The chearfulness however of the blazinghearth and the generous officiousness of the hermit, seemed by degreesto recover him from the insensibility and lethargy, that for a time hadswallowed up all his faculties. 

Madoc had hitherto contemplated his guest in silence. He permitted himto refresh his wearied frame and to resume his dissipated spiritsuninterrupted; he suppressed the curiosity by which he was actuated, tolearn the story of the woes of Edwin. In the midst of his dejection, heperceived the symptoms of a nobility of spirit that interested him; andthe anguish of the shepherd's mind had not totally destroyed the tracesof that mild affability, and that manly frankness for which he wasesteemed. 

Edwin had no sooner appeared to shake off a small part of hismelancholy, his eye no sooner sparkled with returning fire, than Madocembraced the favourable omen. "My son, " said he, "you seem to be full ofdejection and grief. Grief is not an inmate of the plain; the hours ofthe shepherd are sped in gaiety and mirth. Suspicion and design arestranger to his bosom. With him the voice of discord is not heard. Thescourge of war never blasted his smiling fields; the terror of invasionnever banished him from the peaceful cot. You too are young and uninuredeven to the misfortunes of the shepherd. No contagion has destroyed yourflock; no wolf has broken its slender barriers: you have felt theanguish of no wound, and been witness to the death of no friend. Saythen, my son, why art thou thus dejected and forlorn?"

"Alas, " replied Edwin, "our equal lot undoubtedly removes us from thestroke of many misfortunes; but even to us adversity extends its rod. Ihave been exposed to the ravages of an invader, more fearful than thewolf, more detested than the conqueror. From an affliction like mine, nooccupation, no rank, no age can exempt. Sawest thou not the descendingstorm? Did not the rain beat upon thy cavern, and the thunder roar amongthe hills?" "It did, " cried Madoc, "and I was struck with reverence, andworshipped the God who grasps the thunder in his mighty hand. Wast thou, my son, exposed to its fury?" "I was upon the bleak and wide extendedheath. With Imogen, the fairest and most constant of the daughters ofClwyd, I returned from the feast of Ruthyn. But alas, " added theshepherd, "the storm had no terrors, when compared with the scenes thataccompanied it. I beheld, Madoc, nor are the words I utter the words ofshameless imposition, or coward credulity; I beheld a phantom, thatglided along the air, and rode among the clouds. At his command, a wolffrom the forest, with horrid tusks, and eyes of fire, burst upon me. Iadvanced towards it, that I might defend the fairest of her sex from itsfury, and plunged my javelin in its heart. But, oh! while I was thusengaged, a chariot advanced on the opposite side! Its course wasdirected by the spectre. The rider descended on the plain, and seizedthe spotless, helpless Imogen; and never, never shall these eyes beholdher more! Such, O thou servant of the Gods, has been my adversity. Thepowers of darkness have arrayed themselves against me. For me the stormhas been brewed; all the arrows of heaven have been directed against myweak, defenceless head. For me the elements have mixed in tremendousconfusion; portents and prodigies have been accumulated for mydestruction. Oh, then, generous and hospitable Druid, what path isthere, that is left for my deliverance? What chance remains for me, nowthat a host of invisible beings combats against me? Teach me, my friend, my father, what it is that I must do. Tell me, is there any happiness instore for Edwin, or must I sink, unresisting, into the arms ofcomfortless despair?"

"My son, " cried the venerable hermit, "hope is at all times our duty, and despair our crime. It is not in the power of events to undermine thefelicity of the virtuous. Goblins, and spirits of darkness, arepermitted a certain scope in this terrestrial scene; but their power isbounded; beyond a certain line they cannot wander. In vain do theythreaten innocence and truth. Innocence is a wall of brass upon whichthey can make no impression. Virtue is an adamant that is sacred andsecure from all their efforts. He whose thoughts are full of rectitudeand heaven, who knows no guile, may wander in safety throughuncultivated forests, or sandy plains, that have never known the traceof human feet. Before him the robber is just, and the satyr tame; forhim the monsters of the desert are disarmed of their terrors, and heshall lead the wild boar and the wolf in his hand. Such is the sanctitythat heaven has bestowed on unblemished truth. "

"Alas, my father, " cried Edwin, "this is the lesson that was firstcommunicated to my childhood; and my infant heart bounded with thesacred confidence it inspired. But excuse the presumption of adistracted heart. This lesson, to which at another time I could havelistened with rapture and enthusiasm, seems now too loose and generalfor a medicine to my woes. Innocence the Gods have made superior andinvulnerable. And, oh, in what have I transgressed? Yet, my father, I amwounded in the tenderest part. Shall I ever recover my Imogen? Is shenot torn from me irreversibly? How shall I engage with powers invisible, and supernatural? How shall I discover my unknown, human enemy? No, Madoc, I am lost in impenetrable darkness. For me there is no hope, noshadow of approaching ease. "

"Be calm, my son, " rejoined the anchorite. "Arrogance and impatiencebecome not the weak and uninformed children of the earth. Be calm, and Iwill administer a remedy more appropriate to your wrongs. But rememberthis is your hour of trial. If now you forget the principles of youryouth, and the instructions of the sacred Druids, you shall fall fromhappiness, never to regain it more. But if you come forth pure andunblemished from the fierce assay, your Imogen shall be yours, the Godsshall take you into their resistless protection, and in all future ages, when men would cite an example of distinguished felicity, they shallsay, as fortunate as Edwin of the vale. " Edwin bended his knee in mutesubmission. 

"Listen, my son, " continued the Druid. "I know your enemy, and can pointout to you his obscure retreat. " The shepherd lifted up his eyes, latelyso languid, that now flashed with fire. He eagerly grasped the hand ofMadoc. "Alas, " continued the hermit, "to know him would little answerthe purpose of thy bold and enterprising spirit. They adversary, as thoumayest have conjectured, is in league with the powers of darkness. Against them what can courage, what can adventure avail? They canunthread thy joints, and crumble all thy sinews. They can chain up thylimbs in marble. For how many perils, how many unforseen disasters oughthe to be prepared, who dares to encounter them?"

"The name of him who has ravished from thee the dearest treasure of thyheart, is Roderic. His mother--attend, oh Edwin, for whatever theincredulous may pretend, the tales related by the bards in theirimmortal songs, of ghosts, and fairies, and dire enchantment, are notvain and fabulous. --You have heard of the inauspicious fame and the bademinence of Rodogune. She withdrew from the fields of Clwyd within thememory of the elder of shepherds. Various were the conjecturesoccasioned by her disappearance. Some imagined, that for the haughtinessof her humour, and the malignity of her disposition, characters thatwere wholly unexampled in the pastoral life, she had been carried awaybefore the period limited by nature to the place of torment by thegoblins of the abyss. Others believed that she concealed herself in thetop of the highest mountain that was near them, and by a commerce withinvisible, malignant beings, still exercised the same gloomy temper inmore potent, and therefore more inauspicious harm. The blight thatoverspread the meadows, the destructive contagion that diffused itselfamong the flocks, the raging tempest that rooted up the oak, when thethunder roared among the hills, and the lightning flashed from pole topole, they ascribed to the machinations and the sorcery of Rodogune. Their conjectures indeed were blind, but their notions were not whollymistaken. 

"Rodogune was the mother of Roderic. She was deeply skilled in thosedark and flagitious arts, which have cast a gloom upon this mortalscene. The intellectual powers bestowed upon her by the Gods were greatand eminent, and were given for a far different purpose than to beemployed in these sinister pursuits. But all conspicuous talents areliable, my son, to base perversion; and such was the fate of those ofRodogune. She delighted in the actions which her dark and criminalalliance with invisible powers enabled her to perform. It was her's tomislead the benighted shepherd. It was Sher's to part the happy lovers. For this purpose she would swell the waves, and toss the feeble bark. She dispensed, according to the dictates of her caprice, the mildewamong the tender herb, and the pestilence among the folds of theshepherds. By the stupendous powers of enchantment, she raised from thebosom of a hill a wondrous edifice. The apartments were magnificent andstately; unlike the shepherd's cot, and not to be conceived by theimagination of the rustic. Here she accumulated a thousand variousgratifications; here she wantoned in all the secret and licentiousdesires of her heart. But her castle was not merely a scene ofthoughtless pleasure. Within its circle she held crouds of degenerateshepherds, groveling through the omnipotence of her incantations inevery brutal form. Even the spectres and the elves that disobeyed herauthority, she held in the severest durance. She compressed their tenderforms in the narrowest prison, or gave them to the stormy winds, to bewhirled, _with restless violence, round about_ the ample globe. Ina word, her mansion was one uninterrupted scene of ingenious cruelty andmiserable despair. To be surrounded with the face of disappointment andagony was the happiness of Rodogune. 

"When first by her art she raised that edifice which is now inhabited byher son, she had been desirous to conceal it from the prying eyes of thewanderer. In order to this, though it stood upon an eminence, she chosean eminence that was surrounded by higher hills, and hills which, according to the neighbouring shepherds, were impassable. No adventurousstep had ever since the day they were created pierced beyond them. Itwas imagined that the space they surrounded was the haunt of elves, andthe resort of those who held commerce with evil spirits. The curlingsmoke, which of late has frequently been seen to ascend from theirbosom, has confirmed this tradition. And in order to render herhabitation still more impervious, Rodogune surrounded it with a deepgrove of oaks, whose thick branches entwined together, permitted nopassage so much as to the light of day. 

"Roderic was her only child, the darling of her age, and the centralobject of all her cares. At his birth the elves and the fairies weresummoned together. They bestowed upon him every beauty of person andevery subtlety of wit. To every weapon they made him invulnerable. And, without demanding from him that care and persevering study, that hadplanted wrinkles on his mother's brow, they gave him to enjoy his wishesinstantly and uncontroled. One only goblin was daring enough topronounce a curse upon him. 'WHEN RODERIC, ' cried he, 'SHALL BEOVERREACHED IN ALL HIS SPELLS BY A SIMPLE SWAIN, UNVERSED IN THE VARIOUSARTS OF SORCERY AND MAGIC: WHEN RODERIC SHALL SUE TO A SIMPLE MAID, WHOBY HIS CHARMS SHALL BE MADE TO HATE THE SWAIN THAT ONCE SHE LOVED, ANDWHO YET SHALL RESIST ALL HIS PERSONAL ATTRACTIONS AND ALL HIS POWER;THEN SHALL HIS POWER BE AT AN END. HIS PALACES SHALL BE DISSOLVED, HISRICHES SCATTERED, AND HE HIMSELF SHALL BECOME AN UNFITTED, NECESSITOUS, MISERABLE VAGABOND. ' Such was the mysterious threat; and dearly did thethreatner abide it. In the mean time, an elf more generous, moreattached to Rodogune, and more potent than the rest, bestowed upon theinfant a mysterious ring. By means of this he is empowered to assumewhat form he pleases. By means of this it was hoped he would be able tosubdue the most prepossessed, and melt the most obdurate female heart. By means of this it was hoped, he might evade not only the simple swain, but all the wiles of the most experienced and subtle adversary. 

"Roderic now increased in age, and began to exhibit the promises of thatmanly and graceful beauty that was destined for him. He inherited hismother's haughtiness, and his wishes and his passions were neversubjected to contradiction. A few years since that mother died, and theyouth has been too much engaged in voluptuousness and luxury to embarkin the malicious pursuits of Rodogune, Sensuality has been his aim, andpleasure has been his God. To gratify his passions has been the soleobject of his attentions; and he has remitted no exertion that couldenhance to him the joys of the feast and the fruition of beauty. Onelow-minded gratification has succeeded to another; pleasures of anelevated and intellectual kind have been strangers to his heart; andwere it not that the subtlety of wit was a gift bestowed upon him bysupernatural existencies, he must long ere this have sunk his mind tothe lowest savageness and the most contemptible imbecility. "

Edwin heard the tale of the Druid with the deepest attention. He wasinterested in the information it contained; he was astonished at theunfathomable witcheries of Rodogune; and he could not avoid the beingapprehensive of the unexpanded powers of Roderic. But the daring andadventurous spirit of youth, and the anxiety that he felt for thecritical situation of Imogen, soon overpowered and obliterated theseimpressions. The Druid finished; and he started from his seat. "Pointme, kind and generous Madoc, to the harbour of the usurper. I willinvade his palace. I will enter fearlessly the lime-twigs of his spells. I will trust in the omnipotency of innocence. Though the magician shouldbe encircled with all the horrid forms that ingenious fear ever created, though all the grizly legions of the infernal realm should hem in, Iwill find him out, and force him to relinquish his prize, or drag him byhis shining hair to a death, ignominious and accursed, as has been theconduct of his life. "

The Druid assumed a sterner and a severer aspect. "How long, son of thevalley, " cried he, "wilt thou be deaf to the voice of instruction? Whenwilt thou temper thy heedless and inconsiderate courage with thecoolness of wisdom and the moderation of docility? But go, " added he, "Iam to blame to endeavour to govern thy headlong spirit, or stem thetorrent of youthful folly. Go, and endure the punishment of thyrashness. Encounter the magician in the midst of his spells. Expose thynaked and unprotected head to glut his vengeance. Over thy life indeed, he has no power. Deliberate guilt, not unreflecting folly, can deprivethee of thy right to that. But, oh, shepherd, what avails it to live inhopeless misery? With ease he shall shut thee up for revolving years indarkness tangible; he shall plunge thee deep beneath the surface of themantled pool, the viscous spume shall draw over thy miserable head itsdank and dismal shroud; or perhaps, more ingenious in mischief, he shallchain thee up in inactivity, a conscious statue, the silent and passivewitness of the usurped joys that once thou fondly fanciedst thy own. "

"Oh, pardon me, sage and venerable Madoc, " replied the shepherd. "Edwindid not come from the hands of nature obstinate and untractable. Butgrief agitates my spirits; anxiety and apprehension conjure up athousand horrid phantoms before my distracted imagination, and I am nolonger myself. I will however subdue my impatient resentments. I willlisten with coolness to the voice of native sagacity and hoaryexperience. Tell me then, my father, and I will hearken with muteattention, nor think the lesson long, --instruct me how I shall escapethose tremendous dangers thou hast described. Say, is there any remedy, canst thou communicate any potent and unconquerable amulet, that shallshield me from the arts of sorcery? Teach me, and my honest heart shallthank thee. Communicate it, and the benefit shall be consecrated in mymemory to everlasting gratitude. "

"My son, " replied Madoc, "I am indeed interested for thee. Thy heart isingenuous and sincere; thy misfortune is poignant and affecting. Listenthen to my directions. Receive and treasure up this small and sordidroot. In its external appearance, it is worthless and despicable; but, Edwin, we must not judge by appearances; that which is most valuableoften delights to shroud itself under a coarse and unattractive outside. In a richer climate, and under a more genial sun, it bears a beauteousflower, whose broad leaves expand themselves to the day, and are clothedwith a deep and splendid purple, glossy as velvet, and bedropped withgold. This root is a sovereign antidote against all blasts, enchantments, witchcrafts, and magic. With this about thee, thou mayestsafely enter the haunts of Roderic; thou mayest hear his incantationsunappalled; thou mayest boldly dash from his hand his magic glass, andshed the envenomed beverage on the ground. Then, when he standsastonished at the unexpected phenomenon, wrest from him his potent wand. Invoke not the unhallowed spirits of the abyss; invoke the spotlesssynod of the Gods. Strike with his rod the walls of his palace, and theyshall turn to viewless air; the monster shall be deprived of all hisriches, and all his accumulated pleasures; and thou and thy Imogen, delivered from the powers of enchantment, shall be, for one long, uninterrupted day, happy in the enjoyment of each other. 

"Attend, my son, yet attend, to one more advice, upon which all thyadvantage and all thy success in this moment of crisis hang. Engage notin so arduous and important an enterprise immaturely. Thou hast yet noreason for despair. Thou art yet beheld with favour by propitiousheaven. But thou mayest have reason for despair. One false step may ruinthee. One moment of heedless inconsideration may plunge thee in years ofcalamity. One moment of complying guilt may shut upon thee the door ofenjoyment and happiness for ever. "

Such was the sorrow, and such were the consolations of Edwin. But fardifferent was the situation, and far other scenes were prepared for hisfaithful shepherdess. For some time after she had been seized byRoderic, she had remained unconscious and supine. The terrors that hadpreceded the fatal capture, had overpowered her delicate frame, and sunkher into an alarming and obstinate fit of insensibility. They had nowalmost reached the palace of the magician, when she discovered the firstsymptoms of returning life. The colour gradually remounted into herbloodless cheeks; her hands were raised with a feeble and involuntarymotion, and at length she lifted up her head, and opened her languid, unobserving eyes. "Edwin, " she cried, "my friend, my companion, whereart thou? Where have we been? Oh, it is a long and tedious evening!"Saying this, she looked upon the objects around her. The sky was nowbecome clear and smiling; the lowring clouds were dissipated, and theblue expanse was stretched without limits over their head. The sourcesof her former terror were indeed removed, but the objects that presentedthemselves were equally alarming. All was unexpected and all wasunaccountable. Imogen had remained without consciousness from the verybeginning of the storm, and it was during her insensibility that thegoblin had been visible, and the magician descended to the plains. Shefound herself mounted upon a car, and hurried along by rapid steeds. Shesaw beside her a man whose face, whose garb, and whose whole appearancewere perfectly unknown to her. 

"Ah, " exclaimed the maiden, in a voice of amazement apprehension, "wheream I? What is become of my Edwin? And what art thou? What means allthis? These are not the well-known fields; this is not the brook ofTowey, nor these hills of Clwyd. Oh, whither, whither do we fly? Thistrack leads not to the cottage of my parents, and the groves ofRhyddlan. " "Be not uneasy, my fair one, " answered Roderic. "We go, though not by the usual path, to where your friends reside. I am notyour enemy, but a swain who esteems it his happiness to have comebetween you and your distress, and to have rescued you from the peltingof the storm. Suspend, my love, for a few moments your suspicions andyour anxiety, and we shall arrive where all your doubts will be removed, and all I hope will be pleasure and felicitation. " While he thus spokethe chariot hastened to the conclusion of their journey, and entered thearea in the front of the mansion of Roderic. 

The suspicions of Imogen were indeed removed, but in a manner too cruelfor her tender frame. The terror and fatigue she had previouslyundergone had wasted her spirits, and the surprise she now experienced, was more than she could sustain. As the chariot entered the court, shecried out with a voice of horror and anguish, and sunk breathless intothe arms of her ravisher. Though the passion he had already conceivedfor her, made this a circumstance of affliction, he yet in another viewrejoiced, that he was able, by its intervention, to conduct his prize ina manner by stealth into his palace, and thus to prevent that struggleand those painful sensations, which she must otherwise have known. Forcould she have borne, without emotion, to see herself conveyed into awretched imprisonment? Could she have submitted, without opposition, tobe shut up, as it were, from the hope of revisiting those scenes, whereonce her careless childhood played, and those friends whom she valuedmore than life?

The leading pursuit of Roderic, as it had been stated by the Druid ofElwy, was the love of pleasure, an attachment to sensuality, luxury andlust. He often spent whole days in the bosom of voluptuousness, reposingupon couches of down, under ceilings of gold. His senses were atintervals awakened, by the most exquisite music, to a variety ofdelight. He often recreated his view with beholding, from a posture ofsupineness and indolence, the frolic games, and the mazy dance. Sometimes, in order to diversify the scene, he would mix in the sports, and, by the graceful activity of his limbs, and the subtle keenness ofhis wit, would communicate relish and novelty to that which before hadpalled upon the performers. When he moved, every eye was fixed inadmiration. When he spoke all was tranquility of attention, and everymouth was open to applaud. Then were set forth the luxuries of thefeast. Every artifice was employed to provoke the appetite. The viandswere savoury, and the fruits were blushing; the decorations weresumptuous, and the halls shone with a profusion of tapers, whose rayswere reflected in a thousand directions by an innumerable multitude ofmirrors and lustres. And now the intoxicating beverage went swiftlyround the board. The conversation became more open and unrestrained. Quick were the repartees and loud the mirth. Loose, meaning glances wereinterchanged between the master of the feast and the mingled beautiesthat adorned his board. With artful inadvertence the gauze seemed towithdraw from their panting bosoms, and new and still newer charmsdiscovered themselves to enchant the eyes and inflame the heart. The bedof enjoyment succeeded to the board of intemperance. Such was thehistory of the life of Roderic. 

But man was not born for the indolence of pleasure and the uniformity offruition. No gratifications, but especially not those that addressthemselves only to the senses, and pamper this brittle, worthlessmansion of the immortal mind, are calculated to entertain us for anylong duration. We need something to awaken our attention, to whet ourappetite, and to contrast our joys. Happiness in this sublunary statecan scarcely be felt, but by a comparison with misery. It is he onlythat has escaped from sickness, that is conscious of health; it is heonly that has shaken off the chains of misfortune, that truly rejoices. The wisdom of these maxims was felt by Roderic. Full of pleasures, surrounded with objects of delight, he was not happy. Their uniformitycloyed him. He had received, by supernatural endowment, an activity anda venturousness of spirit, that were little formed for such scenes asthese. He was devoured with spleen. He sighed he knew not why; he waspeevish and ill-humoured in the midst of the most assiduous attentionand the most wakeful service. And the command he possessed over theelements of nature was no remedy for sensations like these. 

Oppressed with these feelings, Roderic was accustomed to withdrawhimself from the pomps and luxuries that surrounded him, to fly from thegilded palace and the fretted roofs, and to mix in the simple andundebauched scenes of artless innocence that descended on every sidefrom the hills he inhabited. The name of Roderic was unknown to all theshepherds of the vallies, and he was received by them with thatofficiousness and hospitality which they were accustomed to exercise tothe stranger. It was his delight to give scope to his imagination byinventing a thousand artful tales of misfortune, by which he awakenedthe compassion, and engaged the attachment of the simple hinds. In orderthe more effectually to evade that curiosity which would have been fatalto his ease, he assumed every different time that he came among them adifferent form. By this contrivance, he passed unobserved, he partookfreely of their pastimes, he made his observations unmolested, and wasperfectly at leisure for the reflections, not always of the mostpleasant description, that these scenes, of simple virtue and honestpoverty, were calculated to excite. "Oh, impotence of power, " exclaimedhe, wrapt up and secure in the disguise he assumed, "to what purpose artthou desired? Ambition is surely the most foolish and misjudging of allterrestrial passions. My condition appears attractive. I am surroundedwith riches and splendour; no man approaches me but with homage andflattery; every object of gratification solicits my acceptance. I am notonly endowed with a capacity of obtaining all that I can wish, and thatby supernatural means, but I am almost constantly forestalled in mywishes. Who would not say, that I am blessed? Who that heard but adescription of my state, would not envy me? O ye shepherds, happy, thrice happy, in the confinedness of your prospects, ye would then envyme! Instructed as I am, instructed by too fatal experience, with reasonI envy you. Hark to that swain who is now leading his flock from thedurance in which they were held till the morning peeped over the easternhills! The little lambs frisk about him, thankful for the liberty theyhave regained, and he stretches out his hand for them to lick. Now hedrives them along the extended green, and in a wild and thoughtless notecarols a lively lay. He sings perhaps of the kind, but bashfulshepherdess. His hat is bound about with ribbon; the memorial of her coycompliance and much-prized favour. How light is his heart, how chearfulhis gait, and how gay his countenance! He leads in a string a littlefrolic goat with curving horns: I suppose the prize that he bore off insinging, which is not yet tamed to his hand, and familiarised to hisflock. What though his coat be frieze? What though his labour constantlyreturn with the returning day? I wear the attire of kings; far fromlabouring myself, thousands labour for my convenience. And yet he ishappier than I. Envied simplicity; venerable ignorance; plenteouspoverty! How gladly would I quit my sumptuous palace, and my magic arts, for the careless, airy, and unreflecting joys of rural simplicity!"

It was in a late excursion of this kind that he had beheld the beauteousImogen. His eye was struck with the charms of her person, and theamiableness of her manners. Never had he seen a complexion sotransparent, or an eye so expressive. Her vermeil-tinctured lips werenew-blown roses that engrossed the sight, and seemed to solicit to beplucked. His heart was caught in the tangles of her hair. Such anunaffected bashfulness, and so modest a blush; such an harmonious andmeaning tone of voice, that expressed in the softest accents, the mostdelicate sense and the most winning simplicity, could not but engage theattention of a swain so versed in the science of the fair as Roderic. From that distinguished moment, though he still felt uneasiness, it wasno longer vacuity, it was no longer an uneasiness irrational andunaccountable. He had now an object to pursue. He was not now subjectedto the fatigue of forming wishes for the sake of having them instantlygratified. When he reflected upon the present object of his desires, newobstacles continually started in his mind. Unused to encounterdifficulty, he for a time imagined them insurmountable. Had his desiresbeen less pressing, had his passion been less ardent, he would havegiven up the pursuit in despair. But urged along by an unintermittedimpulse, he could think of nothing else, he could not abstract hisattention to a foreign subject. He determined at least once again tobehold the peerless maiden. He descended to the feast of Ruthyn; andthough the interval had been but short, from the time in which he hadfirst observed her, in the eye of love she seemed improved. The charmsthat erst had budded, were now full blown. Her beauties were ripened, and her attractions spread themselves in the face of day. Nor was thisall. He beheld with a watchful glance her slight and silent intercoursewith the gallant Edwin; an intercourse which no eye but that of a lovercould have penetrated. Hence his mind became pregnant with all thehateful brood of dark suspicions; he was agitated with the fury ofjealousy. Jealousy evermore blows the flame it seems formed toextinguish. The passion of Roderic was more violent than ever. Hisimpatient spirit could not now brook the absence of a moment. Luxurycharmed no longer; the couch of down was to him a bed of torture, andthe solicitations of beauty, the taunts and sarcasms of infernal furies. He invoked the spirit of his mother; he brought together an assembly ofelves and goblins. By their direction he formed his plan; by theirinstrumentality the tempest was immediately raised; and under theguidance of the chief of all the throng he descended upon his prey, likethe eagle from his eminence in the sky. 

The success of his exploit has already been related. The scheme hadindeed been too deeply laid, and too artfully digested, to admit almostthe possibility of a miscarriage. Who but would have stood appalled, when the storm descended upon our lovers in the midst of the plain, andthe thunders seemed to rock the whole circle of the neighbouring hills?Who could have conducted himself at once with greater prudence andgallantry than the youthful shepherd? Did he not display the highestdegree of heroism and address, when he laid the gaunt and haughty wolfprostrate at his feet? But it was not for human skill to cope with theopposition of infernal spirits. Accordingly Roderic had been victorious. He had borne the tender maiden unresisted from the field; he hadoutstripped the ardent pursuit of Edwin with a speed swifter than thewinds. In fine, he had conducted his lovely prize in safety to hisenchanted castle, and had introduced her within those walls, where everything human and supernatural obeyed his nod, in a state of unresistingpassivity. 

Roderic, immediately upon his entrance into the castle, had committedthe fair Imogen to the care of the attendant damsels. He charged them byevery means to endeavour to restore her to sense and tranquility, andnot to utter any thing in her hearing, which should have the smallesttendency to discompose her spirits. In obedience to orders, which theyhad never known what it was to dispute, they were so unwearied in theirassiduities to their amiable charge, that it was not long before shebegan once again to exhibit the tokens of renewed perception. She raisedby degrees a leaden and inexpressive eye, to the objects that were abouther, without having as yet spirit and recollectedness enough todistinguish them. "My mother, " cried she, "my venerable Edith, I am notwell. My head is quite confused and giddy. Do press it with yourfriendly hand. " A female attendant, as she uttered these words, drewnear to obey them. "Go, go, " exclaimed Imogen, with a feeble tone, andat the same time putting by the officious hand, "you naughty girl. Youare not my mother. Do not think to make me believe you are. "

While she spoke this she began gradually to gain a more entiresedateness and self-command. She seemed to examine, with an eager andinquisitive eye, first one object, and then another by turns. Thenovelty of the whole scene appeared for an instant to engross herattention. Every part of the furniture was unlike that of a shepherd'scot; and completely singular and unprecedented by any thing that hermemory could suggest. But this self-deception, this abstraction from herfeelings and her situation was of a continuance the shortest that can beconceived. All seemed changed with her in a moment. Her eye, which, froma state of languor and unexpressiveness, had assumed an air of intentand restless curiosity, was now full of comfortless sorrow andunprotected distress. "Powers that defend the innocent, support, guardme! Where am I? What have I been doing? What is become of me? Oh, Edwin, Edwin!" and she reclined her head upon the shoulder of the female whowas nearest her. 

Recovering however, in a moment, the dignity that was congenial to her, she raised herself from this remiss and inactive posture, and seemed tobe immersed in reflection and thought. "Yes, yes, " exclaimed she, "Iknow well enough how it is. You cannot imagine what a furious storm itwas: and so I sunk upon the ground terrified to death: and so Edwin leftme, and ran some where, I cannot tell where, for shelter. But sure itcould not be so neither. He could not be so barbarous. Well but howeversomebody came and took me up, and so I am here. But what am I here for, and what place is this? Tell me, ye kind shepherdesses, (ifshepherdesses you are) for indeed I am sick at heart. "

The broken interrogatories of Imogen were heard with a profound silence. "What, " said the lovely and apprehensive maiden, "will you not answerme? No, not one word. Ah, then it must be bad indeed. But I have donenothing that should make me be afraid. I am as harmless and as chearlyas the little red-breast that pecks out of my hand? So you will not hurtme, will you? No, I dare swear. You do not frown upon me. Your looks arequite sweet and good-natured. But then it was not kind not to answer me, and tell me what I asked you. " "Fair stranger, " replied one of thethrong, "we would willingly do any thing to oblige you. But you are weakand ill; and it is necessary that you should not exert yourself, but tryto sleep. "

"Sleep, " replied the shepherdess, "what here in this strange place? No, that I shall not, I can tell you. I never slept from under the thatch ofmy father's cottage in my life, but once, and that was at the wedding ofmy dear, obliging Rovena. But perhaps, " added she, "my father and motherwill come to me here. So I will even try and be compilable, for I neverwas obstinate. But indeed my head is strangely confused; you must excuseme. "

Such was the language, and such the affecting simplicity of the innocentand uncultivated Imogen. She, who had been used to one narrow round ofchearful, rustic scenes, was too much perplexed to be able to judge ofher situation. Her repeated faintings had weakened her spirits, and fora time disordered her understanding. She had always lived among thesimple; she had scarcely ever been witness to any thing but sincerityand innocence. Suspicion therefore was the farthest in the world frombeing an inmate of her breast. Suspicion is the latest and mostdifficult lesson of the honest and uncrooked mind. Imogen thereforewillingly retired to rest, in compliance with the soliciation of herattendants. She beheld no longer her ravisher, whose eye beamed withungovernable desires, and whose crest swelled with pride. Everycountenance was marked with apparent carefulness and sympathy. She waseven pleased with their officious and friendly-seeming demeanour. 

Tell me, ye vain cavillers, ye haughty adversaries of the omnipotence ofvirtue, where could artful vice, where could invisible and hell-bornseduction, have found a fitter object for their triumph? Imogen was notarmed with the lessons of experience: Imogen was not accoutered with thecautiousness of cultivation and refinement. She was all open to everyone that approached her. She carried her heart in her hand. Ye, I doubtnot, have already reckoned upon the triumph, and counted the advantages. But, if I do not much mistake the divine lessons I am commissioned todeliver, the muse shall tell a very different story. 

[Illustration]

BOOK THE THIRD

PURPOSES OF RODERIC. --THE CARRIAGE OF IMOGEN. --HER CONTEMPT OF RICHES. 

The fatigue which Imogen had undergone in the preceding day, preparedher to rest during the night with more tranquility than could otherwisehave been expected. The scenes to which she had successively beenwitness, and the objects that now surrounded her, were too novel andextraordinary in their character, to allow much room for the severity ofreflection, and the coolness of meditation. Her frame was tired with thevarious exercises in which she had engaged; her mind was hurried andperplexed without knowing upon what to fix, or in what manner to accountfor the events that had befallen her: she therefore sunk presently intoa sweet and profound sleep; and while every thing seemed preparing forher destruction, while a thousand enchantments were essayed, and athousand schemes revolved in the busy mind of Roderic, she remainedcomposed and unapprehensive. Innocence was the sevenfold shield thatprotected her from harm; her eyes were closed in darkness, and a smileof placid benignity played upon the lovely features of her countenance. 

Roderic in the mean time had retired to his chamber. His mind was turbidand unquiet. So restless are the waves of the ocean before the comingtempest. They assume a darker hue, and reflect a more cloudy heaven. They roll this way and that in a continual motion, and yet without anydirection, till the loud and hoarse-echoing wind determines their courseand carries them in mountains to the sounding shore. The mind of thevictim was all quiet and unruffled; such is the kindly influence ofconscious truth. The mind of the ravisher exhibited nothing butuneasiness and confusion; such are the boons which vice bestows upon hermisjudging votaries. 

The conqueror, doubly misled by fierce and unruly passions and by hisinauspicious commerce with the goblins of the abyss, retired notimmediately to his couch, but walked up and down his apartments, with ahasty and irregular step. "Thanks to my favourable stars, " exclaimed he, "I am triumphant! What power can resist me? Where is the being thatshall dare to say, that one wish of my heart shall go unfulfilled? Wellthen, I have got the fair the charming she into my power. She is shut upin a palace, unseen by every human eye, to which no human foot everfound its way but at my bidding. She is closed round with spells andenchantment. I can by a word deprive her every limb of motion. If I butwave this wand, the leaden God of sleep shall sink her in a moment inthe arms of forgetfulness, whatever were before her anxieties and herwakeful terrors. In what manner then shall I, thus absolute anduncontroled in all I bid exist, proceed? Shall I press the unwillingbeauty to my bosom, and riot in her hoard of charms, without waitinglike meaner mortals to sue for the consent of her will? There issomething noble, royal, and independent, in the thought. Beauty neverappears so attractive as from behind a veil of tears. Oh, how I enjoyinfancy [sic] the anger that shall flush her lovely cheek! Perhaps shewill even kneel to me to deprecate that which an education of prejudiceshas taught her to consider as the worst of evils. Yes, my lovely maid, Iwill raise thee. Do not turn from me those scornful indignant eyes. Iwill be thy best friend. I will not hurt a hair of thy head. Oh, whenher spotless bosom pants with disdain, how sweet to beat the littlechiders, and by a friendly violence, which true and comprehensive wisdomcannot stigmatize, to teach her what is the true value of beauty, andfor what purpose such enchanting forms as her's were sent to dwellbelow!"

Thus spoke the ravisher, and as he spoke he assumed, although alone, afirmer stride and a more haughty crest. Upon the instant however hisears were saluted with a low and continual sound, that became, by justdegrees, stronger and more strong. The walls of his palace shook; asudden and supernatural light gleamed along his apartment, and a spectrestood before him. Roderic lifted up his eyes, and immediately recognisedthe features of that goblin, who from the hour of his birth, haddeclared himself his adversary. He had been repeatedly used to thevisits of this malicious spirit, who delighted to subvert all hisschemes, and to baffle his deepest projects. This was the onlymisfortune, the sovereign of the hills had ever known; this was the onlyinstance in which he had at any time been taught what it was to have hispower controled and his nod unobeyed. He had often sought, by means ofthe confederacy he held with other spirits of the infernal regions, torestrain his enemy, or by punishment and suffering to make him rue hisopposition. But the goblin he had to encounter, though not the mostpotent, was of all the rest the most crafty in his wiles, and the mostabundant in expedients. As many times as his fellows had by theinstigation of Roderic undertaken to encounter him, so often had they inthe end been eluded and defeated. The contest was now given up, and thegoblin was at liberty to haunt and threaten his impotant adversary asmuch as he pleased. 

"Roderic, " cried he, with a harsh and unpleasant accent, "I am come tohumble the haughtiness of thy triumph, and to pull down thy aspiringthoughts. Impotent and rancorous mortal! Know, that innocence isdefended with too strong a shield for thee to pierce! Boast not thyselfof the immensity of thy walls, and put no confidence in the subtlety ofthy enchantments. Before the mightiness that waits on innocence, theyare not less impotent than the liquid wax, or the crumbling ruin. Learn, oh presumptuous mortal, that sacred and unyielding chastity isinvulnerable to all the violence of men, and all the stratagems ofgoblins. I would not name to thee so salutary an advice as to dismissthy innocent and unsuspicious prize, did not I know thee too obstinateand headstrong to listen to the voice of wisdom. Essay then thy base andlow-minded temptations, thy corrupt and sophistical reasonings, totarnish the unsullied purity of her mind, and it is well. If by such awretch as thee she can be seduced from the obedience of virtue and theGods, then let her fall. She were then a victim worthy of thee. But ifthou essayest the means of tyranny and force, the attempt will be fatalto thee. I will in that case enjoy my vengeance; I will triumph in thydesolation. In the hour then of action and enterprise, remember me!"

With these words the spectre vanished from his sight. Roderic wasinflamed with anger and disgust; but he had none, upon whom to wreak hisrevenge. His heart boiled with the impotence of malice. "What, " criedhe, "am I to be bounded and hedged in, in all my exploits? Am I to becurbed and thwarted in every wish of my heart? This, this was nearest tome. This was the first pursuit of my life in which my whole heart wasengaged; the first time I ever felt a passion that deserved the name oflove. But be it so: I was born with wild and impetuous passions only tohave them frustrated; I was endowed with supernatural powers, andinherited all my mother's skill, only to be the more signallydisappointed. Still however I will not shrink, I will not yield an inchto my adversary. I am bid, it seems, to tempt her, and endeavour tostain the purity of her mind. Yes, I will tempt her. It is not for anartless and uninstructed shepherdess to defeat my wiles and baffle allmy incitements. I will dazzle her senses with all the attractions thatthe globe of earth has to boast. I will wind me into her secret heart. Thou damned, unpropitious goblin, who seekest to oppose thyself to myhappiness, I will but, by thy warning, gain a completer triumph! I willsubdue her will. She shall crown my wishes with ripe, consenting beauty. Long shall she remain the empress of my heart, and partner of my bed. Inher I will hope to find those simple, artless, and engaging charms, which in vain I have often sought in the band of females, that residebeneath my roof, and wait upon my nod. "

Imogen, though considerably indisposed by the fatigue and terrors of thepreceding day, shook off however that placid and refreshing sleep whichhad weighed down her eyelids, long before Roderic deserted the couch ofluxury. Two of the female attendants belonging to the castle had sleptin the same apartment with her, and soon, perceiving her in motion, followed her example, and officiously pressed around her. One of themtook up a part of the garb of the fair shepherdess, and offered toassist her in adjusting it. "I thank you, " cried Imogen, with the utmostsimplicity, "for your good-nature; but I am pretty well now; and everybody dresses herself that is not sick. " The inartificial decorations ofher person were quickly adjusted. The delicate proportion of her limbswas hid beneath a russet mantle; her fair and flowing tresses weredisposed in a braid round her head, and she took her straw hat in herhand. "Well, " said she, "I am obliged to you for your favours. I daresay it was best for me, though at the time I thought otherwise. For myhead ached very much, and I was so weak--It was wrong for me to think ofgoing any farther. --Ah, but then, what have my poor father and motherdone all the while? Have not they missed their Imogen, and wondered whatwas become of her, and been quite sad and forlorn for fear she shouldhave come to any harm? Well, I do not know whether I was not right too. For their ease was of more consequence than mine. I cannot tell. HoweverI will not now keep them in pain. So good morning to you, my dear kindfriends!" And saying this she was tripping away. 

But as she drew towards the door, one of the attendants, with a gentleforce, took hold of her hand. "Do not go yet, sweet Imogen, " cried she. "We want a little more of your company. We have done you all the servicein our power, and you have not paid us for it. We will not ask any thinghard and unreasonable of you. Only comply with us in this one thing, tostay with us a few hours, and let us know a little better the worth ofthat amiable female we have endeavoured to oblige. " "Indeed, indeed, "replied Imogen, "I cannot. I am not used to be obstinate; and you are sokind and fair spoken, that it goes to my heart to refuse you. But Iwould not for the world keep my dear, good Edith in a moment's suspense. But since you are so desirous of being acquainted with me, repair assoon and as often as you please to my father's cot, that lies on theright hand side of the valley, about a mile from the sea, and justbeside the pretty brawling brook of Towey. There I will treat you withthe nicest apples and the richest cream. And I would treat you withbetter, if I knew of any thing better, that I might thank you for yourgoodness. Farewel!" added she, and affectionately pressed the hand thatwas still untwined with her's. 

"No, Imogen, no, you must not leave us thus. Though we would have done athousand times more than we have for your own sake, who are so simpleand so good, it is yet fit that you should know, that we are notmistresses here, and that all we have done has been by the orders of thelord of this rich mansion. He will not therefore forgive us, if wesuffer you to depart before he has seen you, and expressed for you thatkindness which induced him to take you under his protection. " "Heavens!"replied the shepherdess "this is all ceremony and folly, and thereforecannot be of so much consequence as the peace of my father, and theconsolation of my mother. Tell him, that I thank him, and that my fathershall thank him too, if he will come to our hut. Tell him that I amsorry for my foolish weakness, that gave him so much trouble, and mademe be so needlessly frightened, when we came to a place where I have metwith nothing but kindness; but I could not help it. And so that isenough; for if my Edwin had been in his place, and had seen a strangershepherdess in the distress that I was, he would surely have done asmuch. 

"Say so to your lord, as you call him, for I would not seem ungrateful. But yet I will thank you a great deal more than I do him. For what didhe do for me? He took me, and hurried me away, and paid no attention tomy tears and expostulations. Well, but I need not have been alarmed. Soit seems. But I did not like his looks; they were not kind andgood-natured, but fierce and frightful. And so as soon as he had broughtme here, much against my will, he went away and left me. So much thebetter. And then you came and took care of me, and he desired you to doso. That was well enough. But I am more obliged to you for your kindnessand assiduity, than I am to him only for thinking of it. And then totell you the truth, but I ought not to say so to you who are hisfriends, there is something about him, I cannot tell what, that does notplease me at all. He looks discontented, and fierce, as if there was nosuch thing as soothing and managing him. But why do I say all this? Praynow let me go, let me go to my dear, dear mother. "

"Sweet Imogen, " replied the attendant, who seemed to take the lead inthe circle, "how lovely and amiable are you even in your resentments!They are not with you a morose and gloomy sullenness brooding overimaginary wrongs, and collecting venom and malice from every corner tothe heart. In your breast anger itself takes a milder form, and isgentle, generous and gay. Yet why, my Imogen, should you harbour anyanger against your protector?"

Such was the honest and artless dialogue of Imogen. The attendantsrather endeavoured to beguile the time, by dexterously starting newtopics of conversation, upon which Imogen delivered her plain andnatural sentiments with the utmost sincerity, than to detain her by openforce. At length one of them slipped out, and hastened to acquaintRoderic with the impatience of his prize, and to communicate to him thesubstance of those artless hints, which, in the hands of so skilful andpotent an impostor, might be of the greatest service. Rodericimmediately rose. But as he was desirous to decorate his person with thenicest skill, in order to make the most favourable impression upon hismistress, he ordered the attendant, with some of her companions, to waitupon Imogen. He commissioned them, if it were necessary, to inform herof the absolute impossibility of her quitting the castle, and topersuade her to walk in the meadows adjoining, that she might observethe riches of their possessor; how fertile were the soil, and how fairand numerous the flocks. 

The patience of Imogen, in the mean time, was nearly exhausted. Hersimplicity could no longer be duped. Though unused to art, it wasimpossible for her not at length to perceive the art by which theconversation was lengthened, and her ardent desire to set out for thecottage of her father, eluded. She was just beginning to expostulateupon this ungenerous stratagem, when three or four of those females, whom Roderic had dispatched entered the apartment. "Well, " cried Imogen, "you have borne my message to my deliverer, now then let me go. " "Ourlord, " replied the attendant, "is just risen. He will but adjust hisapparel, and will immediately pay you those respects in person which hecan by no means think of omitting. " "Alas, alas, " cried the shepherdess, half distressed, "what is the meaning of all this? What is intended by alanguage so foreign to the homeliness of the shepherd's cot, and theadmirable simplicity of pastoral life? I know not what title I have, apoor, unpretending virgin, to the respects of this lord; but surely ifthey meaned me well, they would be less hollow and absurd. Would therenot be much more respect, much more civility, in permitting me to followmy own inclinations, without this arbitrary and ungrateful restraint?""Shepherdess, " replied the attendant, "we are not used to dispute theorders of our master. We would oblige you if it were in our power. Impute not therefore to us any thing unfriendly; and as for Roderic, heis too good, and too amiable, not to be able to satisfy you about hisconduct the moment he appears. " "Your master! and your lord!" repliedImogen, with a tone of displeasure, "I understand not these words. TheGods have made all their rational creatures equal. If they have made onestrong and another weak, it is for the purpose of mutual benevolence andassistance, and not for that of despotism and oppression. Of all theshepherds of the valley, there is not one that claims dominion andcommand over another. There is indeed an obedience due from children totheir parents, and from a wife to her husband. But ye cannot be hischildren; for he is young and blooming. And but one of you can be hiswife; so that that cannot be the source of his authority. What anumerous family has this Roderic? Does that I wonder, make him happierthan his fellows?"

"Imogen, " said one of the train, "will you walk with us along themeadow, by the side of that hazel copse? The morning is delightful, thesun shines with a mild and cheering heat, the lambs frisk along thelevel green, and the birds, with their little throats, warble each adifferent strain. " The mind of Imogen was highly susceptible to theimpression of rural beauties. She had that placid innocence, that sweetserenity of heart, which best prepares us to relish them. Seeingtherefore, that she was a prisoner, and that it was in vain to struggleand beat her wings against the wiry inclosure, she submitted. "Ah!unjust, unkind associates!" exclaimed Imogen, "ye can obey the dictatesof a man, who has no right to your obedience, and ye can turn a deaf earto the voice of benevolence and justice! Set me at liberty. This man hasno right to see me, and I will not see him. I, that have been used towander as free as the inmates of the wood, or the winged inhabitants ofair, shall I be cooped up in a petty cage, have all my motions dictated, and all my walks circumscribed? Indeed, indeed, I will not. Imogen cannever submit to so ignominious a restraint. She will sooner die. "

"Why, my lovely maiden, " replied the other, "will you think so harshlyof our lord? He does not deserve these uncandid constructions; he is allgentleness and goodness. Suspend therefore your impatience for a moment. By and by you may represent to him your uneasiness, and he will grantyou all the wishes of your heart. Till then, amiable girl, compose yourspirits, and give us cause to believe, that you place that confidence inus, which for the world we would not deserve to forfeit. "

During this conversation, they passed along a gallery, and, descendingby a flight of stairs, proceeded through one corner of a spacious gardeninto the meadow. The mansion, as we have already said, stood upon arising ground, which was inclosed on every side by a circle of hills, whose summits seemed to touch the clouds, and were covered with eternalsnow. Within this wider circumference was a second formed by animpervious grove of oaks, which, though of no long standing, yet, havingbeen produced by magical art, had appeared from the first in fullmaturity. Their vast trunks, which three men hand in hand could scarcelyspan, were marked with many a scar, and their broad branches, waving tothe winds, inspired into the pious and the virtuous that religious awe, which is one of the principal lessons of the Druidical religion. 

At no great distance, and close on one side to the majestic grove, was aterrace, raised by the hand of art, so elevated, as to overlook the topsof the trees as well as the turrets of the castle, and to afford acomplete prospect of all the grounds on this side the precipices. Tothis terrace the attendants of Imogen led their charge, and from it shesurveyed the farms and granges of their lord. The view was diversifiedby a number of little rills, that flowed down from the mountains, andgave fertility and cheerfulness to the fields through which they passed. The inclosures were some of them covered with a fine and rich herbage, whose appearance was bright and verdant, and its surface besprinkledwith cowslips, king-cups, and daisies. Others of them were interspersedwith sheep that exhibited the face of sleekness and ease, their fleeceslarge and ponderous, and their wool of the finest and most admirabletexture. Elsewhere you might see the cattle grazing. The ox dappled witha thousand spots, which nature seemed to have applied with a wanton andplayful hand; the cow, whose udders were distended with milk, thatappeared to call for the interposition of the maidens to lighten them oftheir store; and the lordly and majestic bull. With them wasintermingled the horse, whose limbs seemed to be formed for speed andbeauty. At a small distance were the stag with branching horns, thetimid deer, and the sportive, frisking fawn. Even from the ruggedprecipices, that seemed intended by nature to lie waste and useless, depended the shaggy goat and the tender kid. Beside all this, Roderichad had communicated to him, by a supernatural afflatus, that wondrousart, as yet unknown in the plains of Albion, of turning up the soil witha share of iron, and scattering it with a small quantity of those grainswhich are most useful to man, to expect to gather, after a shortinterval, a forty-fold increase. 

Every thing conspired to communicate to the prospect lustre andattraction. The birds, with their various song, gave an air ofpopulousness and animation to the grove. By the side of the rivuletswere scattered here and there the huts of the shepherd and husbandman. And though these swains were not, like the happy dwellers in the valley, enlivened with freedom, and made careless and gay by consciousinnocence; yet were they skilful to give clearness and melody to theslender reed; and the ploughman whistled as he drove afield. But that inthe landscape which most engrossed the attention and awakened thecuriosity of the tender Imogen, was the appearance of the fields ofcorn. It was in her eye novel, agreeable, and interesting. The harvestwas near, and the effect of the object was at its greatest height. Thetall and unbending stalk overtopped by far the native herbage of themeadow, and seemed to emulate the hawthorn and the hazel, which, plantedin even rows, secured the precious crop from the invasion of the cattle. The ears were embrowned with the continual beams of the sun, and, oppressed with the weight of their grain, bended from the stalk. In aword, the whole presented to the astonished view a rich scene ofvegetable gold. Upon this delightful object the shepherdess gazed withan unwearied regard. Respecting it she asked innumerable questions, andmade a thousand enquiries; and it almost seemed as if her curiositywould never be satisfied. Such is the power of novelty over the youngand inexperienced, and such the influence of the beautiful andtranscendent beauties of nature upon the ingenuous and uncorrupted mind. But it was not possible for the shepherdess, interested as she was inthe uneasiness, to which she knew that her parents must be a prey, longto banish from her mind the affecting consideration, or to divert herattention to another object, however agreeable, or however fascinating. 

She had just begun to renew her representations upon this head, whenRoderic approached. While he was yet at a distance, he appeared gracefuland gay, as the messenger of the God that grasps the lightning in hishand. His stature was above the common size. His limbs were formed withperfect symmetry; the fall of his shoulders was graceful, and the wholecontour of his body was regular and pleasing. Such was the generaleffect of his shape, that though his advance was hesitating andrespectful, it was impossible to contemplate his person without theideas being suggested of velocity and swiftness. His presence and airhad the appearance of frankness, ingenuousness, and manly confidence. The natural fire and haughtiness of his eye were carefully subdued, andhe seemed, at least to a superficial view, the very model of good-natureand disinterested complaisance. His bright and flowing hair parted onhis brow, and formed into a thousand ringlets, waved to the zephyrs ashe passed along. There was something so delicate and enchanting in hiswhole figure, as to tempt you to compare it to the unspotted beauty ofthe hyacinth; at the same time that you rejoiced, that it was not abeauty, frail and transient, as the tender flower, but which promised amanly ripeness and a protracted duration. 

Observing that the attention of those around her was suddenly divertedfrom the intreaties she employed, Imogen turned her eye, in order todiscover the object that now engaged them. It was immediately met by thegraceful and amiable figure we have described. But to Imogen that figurepresented no such comeliness and beauty. For a moment indeed, natureprevailed, and she could not avoid gazing, with a degree of complacence, upon an object, to which the Goddess seemed to have lavished all hertreasures. But this sensation vanished, almost before it was formed. Themind of the shepherdess was too deeply read in the lessons of virtue, toacknowledge any beauty in that form, which was not animated with truth, and in those features, which were not illuminated with integrity andinnocence. Notwithstanding her native simplicity, and the unsuspectingconfidence she was inclined to repose in every individual of the humanrace, yet had the conduct of Roderic, as she had already confessed, displeased her too deeply for her immediately to assume towards him anunembarrassed and soothing carriage. He had seized upon her by violencein a moment of insensibility. He had carried her away without herconsent. When she recovered strength enough to expostulate upon this, heendeavoured, by ambiguous expressions, to deceive her into an opinion, that he was conducting her to the cottage of her father. Supposing that, for reasons good and wise, he had introduced her into a strange place, she could not be persuaded that those reasons subsisted for detainingher contrary to her inclination. And independently of any individualcircumstances, there is a native and inexplicable antipathy betweenvirtue and vice. It is not in the nature of things, it is not within therange of possibility, that they should coalesce and unite where both ofthem exist in a decided manner, or an eminent degree. It was not thebabble of ignorance, it was by an unalterable law of her nature, thatImogen had been displeased with the looks of him, who meaned herdestruction. The animation that dwells in the features of virtue, ismild and friendly and lambent; but the sparkles that flash from the eyeof enterprising guilt, are momentary, and unrelenting, and impetuous. The gentle and the inoffensive instantly feel how uncongenial they areto their dispositions, and start back from them with aversion andhorror. Such were in some measure the sensations of Imogen, upon there-appearance of her betrayer. She turned from him with unfeigneddislike, and was reluctantly kept in the same situation till he ascendedthe terrace. As he drew nearer, Roderic seized the hand of the lovelycaptive. In a tone of blandishment he expostulated with her upon herunkind behaviour and unreasonable aversion. With all that sophistry, that ingenious vice knows so well how to employ, he endeavoured toevince that his conduct had been regulated by kindness, rectitude andhumanity. In the mean time the retinue withdrew to a small distance. Imogen insisted upon not being left wholly alone with her ravisher. 

Able to perplex but not to subvert the understanding of his prize, Roderic addressed her with the language of love. Naturally eloquent, allthat he now said was accompanied with that ineffable sweetness, and thatsoft insinuation, that must have shaken the integrity of Imogen, had herheart been less constant, and her bosom less glowed with the enthusiasmof virtue. Her betrayer was conscious to a real, though a degenerateflame, and was not reduced to feign an ardour he did not feel. Recollecting however the pure manners, and the delicate and ingenuouslanguage to which Imogen had been inured among the inhabitants of Clwyd, the subtle sorcerer did not permit an expression to escape him, thatcould offend the chastest ear, or alarm the most suspicious virtue. Hislove, ardent as it appeared, seemed to be entirely under the governmentof the strictest propriety, and the most unfeigned rectitude. He knewthat the inspirations of integrity and the lessons of education were notto be eradicated at once; and he attempted not to gain the acquiescenceof his captive by gross and unsuitable allurements, unconcealed with thegilding of dexterity and speciousness. 

But his eloquence and his address were equally vain. In spite of thebeauty of his person and the urbanity of his manners, the shepherdessreceived his declarations with coldness and aversion. She assured him ofthe impossibility of his success, that she felt for him emotions verydifferent from those of partiality, and that her heart was prepossessedfor a more amiable swain. With that sweet simplicity, that accompaniedall she did, she endeavoured to dissuade him from the pursuit of ahopeless and unreasonable passion; she enumerated to him all the sourcesof enjoyment with which he was surrounded; she intreated him not in thewantonness of opulence to disturb her humble and narrow felicity; andshe besought him in the most pathetic and earnest language to dismissher to freedom, contentment and her parents. 

The more she exerted herself to bend his resolution, and the more scopeshe gave to the unstudied expression of her artless sentiments, the moreinextricably was the magician caught, and the more firm and inexorablewas his purpose. Perceiving however that he had little to hope from themost skilful detail of the pleas of passion, he turned the attention ofthe shepherdess to a different topic. "Behold Imogen, " cried he, "therichness of the landscape on our right hand! The spot in my eye isfarthest from the castle, and divided from the rest of the prospect witha tall hedge of poplars and alders. It is full of the finest grass, andits soil is rich and luxuriant. It is scattered with fleckered cows anddappled fawns. In the hither part of it is a field of the choicestwheat, whose stalks are so rank and pregnant, that the timid hare andthe untamed fox can scarcely force themselves a path among them. Besideit is an inclosure of barley with strong and pointed spikes; and anotherof oats, whose grain, uneared, spreads broader to the eye. How beautifulthe scene! I will not ask you, fairest of your sex, to give yourconfidence to unauthorised words. I will afford the most unquestionabledemonstration of the veracity of my declarations. All these, lovelyImogen, shall be yours: yours exclusively, to be disposed of at yourpleasure, without the interference or control of any. All my otherpossessions shall not belong to myself more than to you. You shall bethe mistress of my heart, and the associate of my counsels. All mybusiness shall be your gratification, all my pleasure your happiness. Forget then, dearest maiden, the poverty of your former condition, andthe connections you formed in an hour of ignorance and obscurity. Fromthis moment let a new era and better prospects commence. Enjoy thatwealth, which can no where so well be bestowed; and thosegratifications, which so obviously belong to that delicate andenchanting form. "

The proposal of Roderic called forth more than ever the spirit and theresentment of Imogen. She did not feel herself in the slightest degreeattracted by the magnificence of his offers. She knew of no use forsuperfluous riches. She felt no wants unsupplied, and no wishesungratified. What motive is there in the whole region of humanperceptions, that can excite the contented mind to the pursuit ofaffluence? "And dost thou think, " said the fair one, with a gesture ofdisdain that made her look ten times more amiable, "to seduce me withbaits like these? Know, mistaken man, that I am happy. I spin the finestwool of our flocks, and drain the distended udders of our cows. Isuperintend the dairies; the butter and the cheese are the produce of myindustry. In these employments my time is spent in chearfulness andpleasure. Surrounded with our little possessions, I am conscious to nodeficiency; in the midst of my parents and friends, I desire not to lookbeyond the narrow circle of the neighbouring hills. If you feel thosewants, which I do not so much as understand, enjoy your fond mistake. Possess those riches which I will not envy you. Wander from luxury toluxury unquestioned; I shall be sufficiently happy in the narrowgratifications that nature has placed within my reach. The gifts youoffer me have no splendour in my eye, and I could not thank you for themthough offered with ever so much disinterestedness. The only gift it isin your power to make is liberty. Allow me to partake of that bounty, which nature has bestowed upon the choristers of the grove, to wanderwhere I will. Under a thousand of those privations that would render thechild of luxury inconsolable, I would support myself; freedom andindependence are the only boons which the whole course of my life hastaught me to cherish. "

"Your ignorance, " rejoined Roderic, "is amiable, though unfortunate. Butyour merit is too great not to deserve to be informed. Knowledge, mylovely maiden, is always regarded as a desirable acquisition by theprudent and the judicious. To what purpose was a mind so capacious, competent to the greatest improvements, and formed to comprehendsubjects of the most extensive compass, or the sublimest reach, bestowedupon us, if it be not employed in the pursuits of science andexperience? Your abilities, my Imogen, appear to be of the very firstdescription. How much then will you be to be blamed, if you do notembrace this opportunity of improvement and instruction? Beauty, thoughunseen, is not less excellent; and prudence, though unpossessed, is ofvalue inestimable. The poor man may be contented, because he knows notthe use of riches; but, in spite of this contentment, it were wise toenlarge our sphere of sensation, and to extend the sources of happiness. 

"If however you still maintain that lovely perverseness, decide if youplease upon your own fate, but let filial piety hinder you fromdetermining too hastily respecting that of your parents and yourfriends. Consider what a new and unbounded scope will be afforded you, by the participation of my riches, for the exercise of benevolent andgenerous propensities. Your parents are now declining fast under theweight of years and infirmity. It is in your power to make their bed ofdown, and to enliven the ground they have yet to traverse with flowers. It is yours to wrest the sheers from the hand of the weary andover-laboured ancient, and to remove the distaff from the knees of yourvenerable mother. Think, gentle shepherdess, before it be too late, ofthe heart-felt pleasures that await the power to do good, when attendedwith a virtuous inclination. When you wipe away the tear from the cheekof distress, when you light up a smile in the eye of misery, think you, that none of the comfort you administer will flow back in generous andrefreshing streams to your own heart? Are these exertions that Imogenought to contemplate with indifference? Is this a power that Imogen canreject without deliberation?"

Imogen stood for a moment in a sweet and ingenuous state of suspense. She had a native and indefeasible reverence for every thing that had theremotest analogy to virtue, and she could not answer a proposal thatcame recommended to her by that name with unhesitating promptitude. Shewas too good and modest to assume an air of decision where she did notfeel it; she was too simple and unaffected, to disguise that hesitationto which she was really conscious. "How false and treacherous, "exclaimed she, "are your reasonings! Among the virtuous inhabitants ofthe plain, every one seeks to influence another by motives which are ofweight with himself, and utters the sentiments of his own heart. Wherehave you learned the disingenuous and faithless arts you employ? To whatpurpose have you cultivated them, and whose good opinion do you flatteryourself they will obtain for you? False, perfidious Roderic! the more Isee of you, the more I fear and despise you. 

"You would recommend to me your temptations under the colour ofknowlege. Has knowlege any charms for the debauched and luxurious? Youtell me we ought to enlarge our sphere of sensation, and to extend thesources of happiness. Wisdom indeed, and mental improvements aredesirable. But the sage Druids have always taught me, that the mind isthe nobler part, that the body is to be kept in subjection, and that itis not our business to seek its gratification beyond the bounds ofnecessity and temperance. If I allowed myself to think that I wantedmore than I have, might not the possession of that more extend mydesires, till, from humble and bounded, they became insatiable? Were Ito dismiss those industrious pursuits by means of which my time nowglides so pleasantly, how am I sure that indolence and vacancy wouldmake me happier?

"To succour indeed the necessitous, and particularly my parents andrelations, is a consideration of more value. But ah, Roderic! though youtalk it so well, I am afraid it is a consideration foreign to yourcharacter. For my parents, they are as yet healthful and active; andwhile they continue so, they wish, no more than myself for repose andindolence. If ever they become incapable of industry, their little flockwill still contribute to their support. They are too much respected, forthe neighbouring shepherds not to watch over it in turn out of purelove. And, I hope, as I will then exert myself with double vigour, thatthe Gods will bless us, and we shall do very well. As to generaldistress, heaven is too propitious to us, to permit the inhabitants ofthe valley to be overwhelmed by it. And I shall always have milk from myflocks, and a cheese from my store, to set before the hungry andnecessitous. 

"But were these advantages more valuable than they are, it would not bemy duty to purchase them so dear. What, shall I desert all theconnections it has been the business of my life to form, and that happystate of simplicity I love so much? Shall I shake off the mutual vows Ihave exchanged with the most amiable and generous of the swains, andjoin myself to one, whose person I cannot love, and whose character Icannot approve? No, Roderic, enjoy that happiness, if it deserve thename of happiness, that is congenial to your inclination. Forget theworthless and unreasonable passion, you pretend to have conceived, inthe multitude of gratifications that are within your reach. Envy not memy straw-defended roof, my little flock, and my faithful shepherd. Iwill never exchange them for all the temptations that the world canfurnish. "

BOOK THE FOURTH

SONG IN HONOUR OF THE FAIR SEX. --HYPOCRISY OF THE MAGICIAN. --THE TRIUMPHOF IMOGEN. --DESPAIR AND CONSOLATION OF RODERIC. 

So much was Roderic discouraged by the apparent spirit and firmness ofthese declarations, that at the conclusion of them he abruptly quittedhis captive, and released her for a moment from his unjust persecutions. His pride however was too strongly piqued, and his passions too muchalarmed to permit her a real respite. "Where ever, " cried he, as he trodwith hasty and irregular steps the level green, --"where ever were foundsuch simplicity, and so much strength of judgment, and gaiety of wit inunion? Is it possible for the extreme of simplicity and the perfectionof intellect to meet together? These surely are paradoxes, that not allthe goblins of the abyss can solve, and which, had they been relatedinstead of seen, must have appeared to constitute an absurd andimpossible fiction. 

"Well then it is in vain to attack the inexorable fair one withallurements that address themselves only to the understanding. She istoo well fortified with the prejudices of education, and the principlesof an imaginary virtue, to be reduced by an assault like this. The prideof her virtue is alarmed, the little train of her sophistries areawakened, and with that artless rhetoric, of the value of which she isdoubtless sensible, she set[s] all her enemies at defiance. My futureenticements shall therefore address themselves to her senses. Thusapproaching her, it is impossible that success should not follow myundertaking. Even the most wary, circumspect, and suspicious, might thusbe overcome. But she is innocence itself. She apprehends no danger, shesuspects no ambuscade. Young and unexperienced, and the littleexperience she has attained, derived only from scenes of pastoralsimplicity, she knows not the meaning of insincerity and treachery; shedreads not the serpent that lurks beneath the flower. "

Having determined the plan of his machinations, and given the necessaryorders, he privately signified to the attendants, that they shouldpropose to their lovely charge to direct her course once again to themansion; and as she perceived that Roderic still continued upon adistant part of the lawn; and as she saw no means of present escape fromher confinement, she consented to do as they desired. 

They now entered the mansion, and passing through several splendidapartments, at length reached a large and magnificent saloon. It washung with tapestry, upon which were represented the figures of Sapphosweeping the lyre; of the Spartan mother bending over the body, andcounting the wounds of her son; of Penelope in the midst of her maidens, carefully unravelling the funeral web of her husband; of Lucretiainflicting upon herself a glorious and voluntary death; and of Arriateaching her husband in what manner a Roman should expire. These storieshad been miraculously communicated to Roderic, and were now explained bythe attendants to the wondering Imogen. At the same time a band ofmusic, that was placed at the lower end of the hall, struck at oncetheir various instruments, and, without any previous preparation, beganthe lofty chorus. At the upper end of the saloon stood a throne ofivory, hung round with trappings of gold, and placed upon a floor ofmarble, of which a numerous flight of steps, also of marble, composedthe ascent. The hangings were of crimson velvet, and the canopy of therichest purple. With the musicians were intermingled a number ofsupernatural beings under the command of Roderic. Their voices weremelodious beyond all example of human power; they were by turns loftyand majestic, and by turns tender and melting; and the strain wasdivine. 

"Such are the honours of the tender sex; and who can speak their praise?The lily is not so fair, the rose is not so attractive, the violet andthe jessamine have not so elegant a simplicity. By their charms, bytheir eloquence, and by their merit, they have assumed an empire overthe bolder sex. How auspicious is the empire! They hold them in silkenchains. They govern, not by harsh decrees, and rigorous penalties; butby smiles and soft compliances, and winning, irresistible persuasion. The rewards they bestow are sweet, and ravishing, and indescribable. 

"What were man without the fair? A wild beast of the forest; a rough anduntamed savage; a hungry lion bursting from his den. Without them, theyare gloomy, morose, unfeeling, and unsociable. To them they owe everycivilization, and every improvement. Did Amphion, from the rude andshapeless stones, raise by his power a regular edifice, houses, palaces, and cities? Did Orpheus by his lay humanize the rugged beasts and teachthe forests to listen? No, these are wild, unmeaning fables. It waswoman, charming woman, that led unpolished man forth from the forestsand the dens, and taught him to bend before thy shrine, humanity! Seehow the face of nature changes! Where late the slough mantled, or theserpent hissed among the briars and the reeds, all is pasture andfertility. The cottages arise. The shepherds assume the guise ofgentleness and simplicity. They attire themselves with care, they braidthe garland, and they tune the pipe. Wherefore do they braid thegarland? Why are their manners soft and blandishing? And why do thehills re-echo the notes of the slender reed? It is to win thy graces, woman, charming woman!

"When nature formed a man, she formed a creature rational, and erect;ten times more noble than the birds of the air, and the beasts of thefield. But when she formed a woman--it was then first, that she outdidherself, and improved her own design. What are the broad and nervousshoulders, what the compacted figure, and the vigorous step, whencontrasted with the well-turned limbs, the slender waist, the gracefulshoulders, and the soft and panting bosom? What are the manly front, thestern, commanding eye, and the down-clad cheek, if we compare them withthe smooth, transparent complexion, the soft, faint blushes, and thepretty, dimpled mouth? What are the strong, slow reason, the deep, unfathomed science, and the grave and solemn wisdom, if they are broughtinto competition with the sprightly sense, the penetrating wit, and theinexhaustible invention? Does the stronger sex boast of its learning, its deep researches, its sagacious discoveries? and have they acoolness, a self-command, a never baffled prudence like that which womanhas exhibited? Do they pique themselves upon their courage, theirgallantry, and their adventure? Where shall we find among them apatience, a mildness, a fortitude, a heroism, equal to that of the fair?

"Virtue has dwelt beneath the sun. Themis has left her throne on theright hand of Jove, and descended to the globe of earth. We have seenexamples of disinterested rectitude, of inviolable truth, of sublime andheaven-born benevolence. They are written in the roll of fame; they arehanded down from age to age. They are the song of the poet, and thefavourite theme of the servants of the Gods. By whom were theyexhibited, or with whom did they originate? With woman, charming woman?Well have justice and rectitude been represented under a female form, for without the softer sex, all had been anarchy and confusion; everyman had preyed upon his neighbour; men, like beasts, had devoured eachother, and virtue fled affrighted to her native skies. This is thesource of all that is good and all that is excellent; of all that isbeautiful and all that is sublime: woman, charming woman!"

At this place the chorus ceased for a moment, and the attendantsobserving, that Imogen was standing, intreated her to seat herself. Shewas rendered weak and languid by the unexperienced anxieties and terrorsshe had undergone, and she did not refuse their request. There was noseat in the centre of the hall, or nearer than the sumptuous throne thatwas placed at the upper end. Thither therefore they led her. Imogen hadbeen unused to the distinctions of rank and precedence. Among theshepherds of the valley, every one, except the bards and the priests, seated himself promiscuously; none sought to take the upper hand of hisneighbour; age was not distinguished by priority of place; and youththought not of ceding the _pas_. The shepherdess, as she advancedtowards the chair, paused for an instant, impressed with that blaze ofmagnificence which is equally formed to strike every human eye. Shelooked round her with an air of timidity and suspense, and then goingforward, ascended the steps and placed herself in the throne. At thisaction, as at a signal, the song recommenced. 

"Simplicity, child of nature, daughter of the plains, with thee alonethe queen of beauty dwells! What is it that adorns and enhances all thewild and uncultivated scenes of nature? It is plainness and artlesssimplicity. What is it that renders lovely and amiable her mostfavourite productions in the animal creation: the tender lamb, thecooing dove, and the vocal nightingale? It is simplicity; it is, thatall their gestures wear the guise, and their voice speaks the artless, and unaffected language of nature. What is is that renders venerable thecharacters of mankind; that ennobles the song of the bards; that giveslustre and attraction to immortal, never-fading virtue? It issimplicity, unaffected simplicity. Of the last and crowning work ofnature, woman, the form is grace; the visage is beauty; the eye sparkleswith intelligence, and smiles with soft and winning graces; the tongueis clothed with persuasion and eloquence. But what are these? A bodywithout a soul, a combination of soft and harmonious names without ameaning; a multitude of rich inestimable gifts, heaped together in rudeand inartificial confusion without the powers of enchantment andattraction. What is it that can animate the mass, that can give forceand value to the whole, and reduce the shapeless chaos into form? It issimplicity, unaffected simplicity. Without thee, child of nature, daughter of the plains, beauty were no more. With thee she dwells, andin thy mansion can she only dwell. Then be the palm reserved for thee, and given to thee alone, simplicity, unaffected simplicity!"

At these words, two supernatural figures appeared below the canopy ofthe throne. They had the form of children; their figures appeared sosoft and waxen, that you would imagine they might be indented by thesmallest touch; upon their countenances sat the lively and unexpressivesmile, the sports, and the graces; and their shoulders were furnishedwith wings of the softest plumage, variegated with all the colours ofthe bow of heaven. In their hands they bore a coronet, at once rich withjewels, and light and inconsiderable in its weight. The circle was ofgold, and studded with diamonds. With the diamonds were intermingledevery precious gem, the topaz, the jasper, the emerald, the chrysolite, and the sapphire. The head was of Persian silk, and dyed with Tyrianpurple. This coronet they placed upon the head of Imogen, and thendescending to the footstool of the throne, bowed upon her feet. The songimmediately recommenced. 

"Imogen is under the guardianship of simplicity, her favourite pupil. Pollute not the ear of Imogen with the praises of beauty. What thoughher eye be full of amiableness and eloquence; what though her cheeksrival the peach, and her lips the coral; what though her bosom be softas wax and fairer than the face of honour; what though her tresses arebrighter than the shooting star? These are the bounties of nature; theseare the gifts of heaven, in which she claims no merit; these are not thepraises of Imogen. But this is her praise, that the graces dwell uponher lips; that her words are attired with the garb of sense and fancy;and that all her conduct is governed by the largest prudence and thenicest discretion. Heard you the sound of merriment and applause? Theywere the gay and unlaboured sallies of the wit of Imogen that calledthem forth. Saw you the look of wonder and astonishment, and the gaze ofinvoluntary approbation and reverence? They were excited by the modesty, the circumspection, and the virtue of Imogen. And yet Imogen is artless, unaffected and innocent; her wit is unconscious of itself, and hervirtue the unstudied dictate of nature. Imogen is under the guardianshipof simplicity, her favourite pupil. Be hers then the crown thatsimplicity alone can deserve. Simplicity descends not in person to thesurface of the earth; her abode is among the Gods. But Imogen is herrepresentative, her perfect resemblance. Should simplicity descend uponthe earth, she would not know herself; she would be astonished to beholdanother divinity, equally beautiful, equally excellent. The divinity isImogen. Be hers then the crown, that simplicity alone can deserve. "

This was a trying moment to the lovely and generous Imogen. Praise iscongenial to every human sense; the voice of praise is ever grateful tothe ear of virtue. The glory of the shepherd indeed lies within a narrowcompass. But let immortality be named, and the heart of man is naturallyattracted: it is impossible that the good and generous bosom should notlong for such a prize. Nor was this all. Imogen, though loved andhonoured by the borderers of Towey, had been little used to studiedcommendation and laboured applause. Pastoral simplicity does not deal inthese; and though it seek to oblige, its endeavours are unostentatiousand silent. Beside, her reverence for song was radical and deep. It hadbeen instilled into her from her earliest infancy; from earliest infancyshe had considered poetry as the vehicle of divine and eternal truth. How strange and tremendous an advantage must he gain over the ear ofsimplicity, who can present his fascinations under the garb of all thatis sacred and all that is honourable?

The song had begun with celebrating a theme, that must for ever becongenial to every female breast. The heart of the shepherdess hadinstinctively vibrated to the praises of simplicity. Even thecommendations bestowed upon herself were not improper, orindiscriminate; they had distinguished between the inanity of personalcharms, and the value of prudence, the beauty of innocence and the meritof virtue. Even the honours she had received were attributed to these, and not to the other. Were they not therefore such as virtue wouldaspire to, and discretion accept?

Alas, Imogen, be not deceived with airy shadows! The reasoning may beplausible, but it is no better than sophistry. Thou must be taught, fairand unsuspecting virgin, under a beautiful outside to apprehend deceit;and to guard against the thorn which closely environs the flower. Thoumust learn, loveliest of thy sex, to dread the poison of flattery. It ismore venemous than the adder, it is more destructive than hebenon ormadragora. It annihilates every respectable quality in the very act ofextolling it; it undermines all that adorns and elevates the humancharacter. Even now that thou listenest to it, and drinkest in, withoutapprehension, its opiate sounds, thou art too near to the sacrifice ofthose very excellencies it pretends to admire. For the head of Imogenwas made giddy by the applauses she heard; drunk with admiration, shewas no longer conscious of the things around her, or of herself; shesunk vanquished and supine, and was supported by one of the attendants. 

At this moment Roderic came forth from an adjoining apartment, andcaught in his arms the vanquished beauty. In the mean time theattendants, the musicians, and the supernatural beings disappeared, andshe was left alone with her betrayer. 

Roderic surveyed his victim with an eye of avidity and triumph. Hiseager curiosity wandered over her hoard of charms; and his brutalpassion was soothed with the contemplation of her disorder. Already inimagination, he had possessed himself of a decisive advantage over soapparent a weakness; and his breast was steeled against the emotions ofpity. 

Imogen cast around her a languid and passive regard, and was in a momentroused from her supineness by the sight of Roderic. Her subtle adversarydid not however allow her time for complete recollection, before hediscovered an apparent revolution in his sentiments and language. He hadheard, he said, the supernatural and celestial chorus, and been caughtin the extremest degree by the praises of innocence and the triumph ofvirtue. He now felt the vanity and folly of those pursuits in which hehad been so deeply immersed, and was determined to abjure the littlenessof pride, and the emptiness of sensual gratification. He did not nowaddress his destined prize with the commendations of beauty. He bestowedupon her with profusion the epithets of discretion, integrity, andheroism; and poured into her ear the insidious flattery, that was mostsoothing to her temper. Full, as he pretended, of the infant purposes ofvirtue, he besought his captive in the most importunate manner, toremain with him for a time, to confirm his wavering rectitude, toinstruct him in duty, and thus to gain one human being to the standardof integrity, and to render so extensive possessions subservient to thehappiness of mankind. All this he expressed with that ardour, which iscongenial to the simplicity of truth; and with that enthusiasm, which inall instances accompanies recent conviction. 

Imogen was totally uninured to the contemplation of hypocrisy, andimmediately yielded the most unreserved credit to these professions. Herjoy was extreme at the change in the dispositions of Roderic, and heradmiration of the irresistible charms of rectitude pious and profound. The praises bestowed upon her seemed distinguishing and sincere, and shedrank them in with the most visible complacency. She expressed howeveran ingenuous diffidence of her capacity for the task of an instructor, and she intreated at any rate to be permitted to withdraw for a shorttime to dry up the tears of her disconsolate parents. 

These difficulties were too obvious to create any embarrassment to soconsummate a deceiver. He described the danger of that vicious mistrustof our powers, that is the enemy of all generous and heroic action. Hereminded his captive how recent were his purposes, and how manyunforeseen incidents might be crowded into so eventful a moment. Therewere goblins, he said, ever ready to seduce the wanderer from his wishedreturn; and he had been too much their prey not to have every thing todread from the subtlety of their machinations. On the other hand, nocharacter was suspended on the longer or shorter duration of theuneasiness of the parents of Imogen; and the joyful surprise they wouldere long experience, might abundantly compensate for any temporaryanxiety and solicitude. He told her of the worship and reverence thatwere due to the immortal Gods. Could she imagine that the scene that hadjust passed was produced for the mere honour and gratification of avirtuous character, than for the instruction of the ignorant, and therestoration of the wandering? Shall she be thus honoured, and shall thisbe her gratitude?

Though the web of the sophistry woven by her betrayer might seeminextricable, though Imogen had no sentiments more predominant than thelove of virtue, and the fear of the Gods, yet her heart involuntarilyresisted his persuasions, and she felt the yearnings of affection stillactive in her bosom towards those, to whom she owed her existence. 

"And cannot you, " cried the lovely maiden, "attend me in the shortabsense I demand? That would prevent every danger, and supersede everyobjection. " "Ah, shepherdess, " replied the magician, "this reluctance, these studied expedients imply diffidence and disobedience. Butdiffidence is much unworthy of the heart of Imogen. Your life has beenmarked with one tenour of piety. Do not then begin to disobey. Do notsully the unspotted whiteness of your character. "

"This, " rejoined Imogen, "is too much. This is mere savageness ofvirtue. Why in the act of persuading me do you bestow upon me thoselaboured commendations, which the very persuasions you employ areintended to prove that I little deserve? Is it necessary, Roderic, thatyour manners should be so strange and unaccountable, as to supply foodfor eternal jealousy and suspicion? And what must be that conduct, thatinspires jealousy into a heart unguarded as mine? I talk of suspicion, but I scarcely know the meaning of the term. And yet there is in yourcarriage something precise, plausible and composed, that I have seldomobserved in any other man. Oh, shepherd! you know not what you do, whenyou awake all these ideas in a maiden's breast, when you thus confoundthings that heaven and earth put asunder. "

"Ungenerous Imogen, " replied the magician, "wherefore this? Do I claimany thing more of you than rectitude demands, and your own bosom willanother day approve? Am I not your better genius to guard you againstthe errors that might be prompted by too tender a heart? Beside, doesthe conduct of beings of a higher order depend upon my nod? Can Icontrol the spheres, and call down celestial essences from their brightabodes? And will they be rendered subservient to the purposes oftreachery and guilt?"

"Roderic here break we off our conference. Sure I am that your conductis not dictated by a regard for my ease or my welfare. How unworthythen, as well as how unjust is the pretence? With respect to thesupernatural scenes I have beheld, the question is more difficult. Ofsuch I have heard from the mouth of the consecrated priests, but nevertill this day did I see them. At present however my mind is too muchdistracted, to be able to decide. I have already gone far enough; as faras my heart will permit me. I must now retire. '

"One thing however I will add. From the resolutions you at firstprofessed, and the impressions you appeared to feel, I had conceived themost sanguine hopes, and the sincerest pleasure. These are all nowvanished. I cannot account for this. But your conduct is now asmysterious to my comprehension, as it was before disgusting to myjudgment. I am bewildered in a maze of uncertainty. I am lost inunwelcome obscurity. May your resolutions and designs be better than myhopes! But ah, Roderic, for how much have you to answer, how deep mustbe your guilt, if all this be mummery, dissimulation, and hypocrisy!"

The magician perceived that it was in vain to urge the stratagem anyfurther, and he retired from the presence of the shepherdess in silence. If he had been able to distract her ingenuous mind between contendingduties, he had not however succeeded in his principal object, that ofundermining her virtue, and lessening her attachment to her parents andher lover. If Imogen were perplexed and confounded, Roderic was scarcelymore happy. He looked back upon the scene with mortification andastonishment. It was difficult for him to determine where it haddigressed from the auspicious appearances it had at first exhibited, andyet he found himself in the conclusion of it wide, very wide indeed, ofthe success of which he had aimed. 

"To what purpose, " exclaimed he, with a voice of anguish and rage, "haveI inherited the most inexhaustible riches? To what purpose is thecommand which I boast over the goblins of the abyss, if one weak, simple, and uninstructed woman shall thus defy my arts? I call the hillsmy own. I mount upon the turrets of my castle, and as far as my eye cansurvey, the bending corn and the grazing herds belong to me. My palaceis adorned with all that can sooth the wearied frame, or gratify theluxurious desire. Couches of purple, and services of gold, the mostexquisite viands, and the blandishments of enticing beauty, charms ofwhich the ruggedness of pastoral life has not so much as the idea, allthese are circled within my walls. Beyond all this, I command myriads ofspirits, invisible, and reputedly omnipotent. If I but stamp my foot, ifI but wave this wand, they fly swifter than the wings of thought to mypresence. One look of favour inspires them with tranquility andexultation; one frown of displeasure terrifies them into despair. Idispatch them far as the corners of the moon. At my bidding they engagein the most toilsome enterprises, and undertake the labour of revolvingyears. Oh impotence of power! oh mockery of state! what end can ye nowserve but to teach me to be miserable? Power, the hands of which arechained and fettered in links of iron; state, which is bestowed onlylike a paper crown to adorn the brows of a baby, are the most cruelaggravations of disappointment, the most fearful insults upon the weak. But shall I always obey the imperious mandate?"

"Yes, Roderic, thou shalt obey, " exclaimed the inimical goblin, who atthis moment burst through a condensed cloud, that had arisen unperceivedin one corner of the apartment, and appeared before him. "In vain dostthou struggle with the links of destiny. In vain dost thou exert thyselfto escape from the fillets that on every side surround thee. The greaterand the more obstinate are thy efforts, the more closely art thou bound, and the more inextricably engaged. This is the situation in which Iwished to see thee. Every pang it wrings from thy heart, everyexclamation it forces from thy tongue, is solace to my thoughts, andmusic to my ears. And wert thou vain and weak enough to imagine, thatriches would purchase thee every pleasure, that riches would furnish aninexhaustible source of enjoyment? Of all mortal possessions they arethe most useless, mischievous, and baleful. The Gods, when the Gods arewilling to perfect a character of depravity, in order to make viceconsummately detestable, or to administer an exemplary punishment todistinguished wickedness, bestow upon that man, as the last of curses, and the most refined of tortures, extensive possessions and unboundedriches. Indulge to the mistaken pride which these inspire, and wrapthyself up in the littleness of thy heart. --But no, rise above them. Suffer thy desires to wander into a larger and more dangerous field. Runwith open eyes into the mouth of that destruction that gapes to devourthee! Why shouldst thou attend to the voice of destiny, to the immutablelaws of the Gods, and the curse that is suspended over thee? Be a man. Bravely defy all that is most venerable, and all that is mostunchangeable. Oh how I long for thy ruin! How my heart pants for theillustrious hour in which thy _palaces shall be crumbled down to thedust of the balance, thy riches scattered, and thyself become anunpitied, necessitous, miserable vagabond_! In the mean time, remember, that riches like thine are not bestowed with u[n]reservinghand, that commerce is not permitted with the shadows of darkness, without some trifling fall to ill amid this immensity of uniformhappiness. For this end I am commissioned from time to time to appearbefore thee in the midst of thy triumph, and to mingle with thyexultations the boding voice of prophetic woe. "

Roderic did not listen to these bitter sarcasms without exhibiting everymark of fury and impatience. At length he commanded the spectre todepart, with a voice so fierce and stern as to terrify him intosubmission. For though the authority of the magician was not formidableenough to make him desist from persecuting him, yet the penalties he hadfrequently been able to inflict, inspired the goblin in spite ofhimself, with the fear of so potent an adversary. Still choaked howeverwith agony and resentment, Roderic waved his wand, and summoned hisfavourite instrument and the prime minister of his pleasures, the goblinMedoro, to his presence. The moment he appeared the magician wasrelieved from that violent gust of passion, which had held himmotionless, a statue of horror, and throwing himself upon his couch, heburst into a flood of tears. 

Medoro was the goblin that had appeared to Edwin in his return from thefeast of the bards, and had brewed the fatal storm that had preceded therape of Imogen. The figure of the spectre was uncouth, and hiscountenance was full of savage and shapeless deformity. Nor did hisappearance bely his character. To all other beings, whether of theterrestrial or the invisible world, his temper was hard, impracticableand remorseless. To Rodogune alone, a similitude of minds, and acongenial ferocity of heart had attached him; and the attachment haddescended to her son; though not equally destitute of every agreeableand every plausible quality. He therefore beheld the affliction ofRoderic with sympathy and compassion. 

"Wherefore, " cried Medoro, modulating a voice, that nature had made upof dissonance and horror, into the most gentle and soothing accent ofwhich it was capable, and hanging over his couch, "wherefore thissorrow? What is it that has seemed to mar a happiness so enviable? Artthou not possessed"--"Talk not to me of possessions, " exclaimed Roderic, with a tone of frenzy, and starting from his posture, "I give them tothe winds. I banish them from my thoughts for ever. Oh that the earthwould open and swallow them up! Oh that unburdened from them all, I werefree as the children of the vallies, and careless as the shepherd thatcarols to the rising day. I had not then been thus entangled inmisfortune, thus every way closed in to remediless despair. I had notthen been a monument of impotence and misery for the world to gaze at. Ye are all combined against me! Under a specious, smiling countenanceyou all conceal a heart of gall. But your hypocrisy and your mummeryshall serve you to little purpose. Point me, this instant point me, to apath for the gratification of my wishes, or dearly shall you rue theshallowness of your invention and the treachery of your professions. "

Medoro was astonished at the vehemence of the passion of Roderic, unusual even in a youth who had never been refused demands the mostunreasonable, and who had been inured to see all the powers of naturebend to his will. "Is this, " cried he, "a return for services sounwearied and sincere as mine? Foolish and ungrateful youth! Rut I willpoint you to a remedy. Had you not been blinded with fury andimpatience, you would have seen that your situation was not yetirremediable, by means the most obviously in your power. Did I not atyour birth bestow upon you a ring, that communicates to the wearer thepower of assuming what form he please? I gave it, in order to elude thecurse of the malignant goblin, to subdue the most obdurate female, andto evade the most subtle adversary. The uses in which thou hast hithertoemployed it have been idle and capricious, governed by whim, anddictated by the sallies of a sportive fancy. It is now first that anopportunity is offered to turn it to those purposes for which it wasmore immediately destined. Dost thou not now address an obdurate maid?Is she not full of constancy and attachment for another? What avails itthen to a heart, simple and unvitiated as hers, to offer the bribe ofriches, and to lavish the incense of flattery and adulation. Attack herin her love. Appear to her in the form of him to whom she is mostardently attached. If Imogen is vulnerable, this is the quarter fromwhich she must be approached. Thus far Roderic thou mayest try thypower; but if by this avenue thou canst not surprise her heart andoverpower her virtue, be then wise. Recollect thy courage, strengthenthy resolution, and shake off for ever a capricious inclination, whichinterrupts the tenour of a life that might otherwise wear the uniformcolour of happiness. "

The information of a new measure for the furthering his darling pursuit, was a communication of the most reviving kind to the heart of Roderic. The gloom and petulance that had collected upon his countenance weredissipated in a moment. His cheek caught anew the flush of expectation;his eye sparkled anew with the insolence of victory. His gratitude tothe propitious Medoro was now as immoderate as his displeasure hadlately been unreasonable. He walked along the apartments with the strideof exultation and triumph. He forgot the pathetic exclamations he hadlately uttered upon the impotence of power, and he was full ofcongratulation in the possession of that which he had treated withcontempt. The moral lessons which it was his destiny to have from timeto time poured into an unwilling ear were erased for ever. He exclaimedupon his own stupidity and want of invention, and he remembered not thatvehemence of passion, which had distracted his understanding, and drawna cloud over all his ideas. It was not instantly that he could assume asufficient degree of collectedness and composure to put into executionthe scheme with which he was so highly delighted. Presently however theebriety of unexpected hope dissipated, and he prepared for that scenewhich was to be regarded as the summit of his power, and the irrevocablecrisis of his fate. 

[Illustration]

BOOK THE FIFTH

THE GARDEN OF RODOGUNE DESCRIBED. --THE HOPES AND DANGER OF IMOGEN. --HERINCONSOLABLE DISTRESS. 

Imogen, immediately after the interview that had so deeply perplexedher, returning to her apartment, had shut herself up in solitude. Herreflections were gloomy and unpleasing; the new obscurity that hungabout them had not contributed to lighten their pressure. But though shewas melancholy, her melancholy was of a different hue from that of herravisher. If virtue can ever be deprived of those glorious distinctionsthat exclusively belong to her, it must be when she is precluded fromthe illuminations of duty, and is no longer able to discern the path inwhich she ought to tread. But even here, where distinction seems mostannihilated, it yet remains. The cruel sensations of Imogen were notaggravated by despair, but heightened by hope. Through them all she wassustained by the consciousness of her rectitude. The chearfulness ofinnocence supported her under every calamity. 

She had not long remained alone before she was summoned to partake ofthat plainer repast, which in the economy of Roderic usually occupiedthe middle of the day, and preceded the sumptuous and splendidentertainment of the evening, by which the soul was instigated toprolong the indulgence of the table, and to throw the reins upon theneck of enjoyment. But Imogen, whose thoughts were dark, and whose mindbrooded over a thousand sad ideas, was desirous of that solitude, whichin the simplicity of pastoral life is ever at hand. She could not awaywith the freedom of society, and the levity of mirth. It was painful toher to have any witnesses of her new sensations, and she wished toremove herself for ever from the inspection of the officious and theinquisitive. In compliance with her humour a few viands were served toher in her own apartment. She was induced by the entreaties of herattendant, to call up a momentary smile upon her countenance, and toendeavour to partake of the refreshment that was offered her. But theeffort was vain. It was the sunshine of an April day; her repast inspite of her was bedewed with tears, and she ate the bread of sorrow. 

As soon as it was concluded, she was invited to a short excursion in thegarden of the mansion. Unused to refusal, the natural mildness of hertemper inclined to comply. She saw the necessity of not yielding herselfup to passive and unresisting melancholy. The natural serenity ofinnocence did not yet permit her to be insensible to the attractions ofenjoyment; and the transient view she had had of the garden, as shepassed to the terrace, led her to expect from it, something that mightsooth her pensive thoughts, and something that might divert heraffliction. 

The garden of Rodogune was an inclosure in a bottom glade, at theentrance of which, though nigh to the castle, and upon a lower ground, you wholly lost sight of the mansion, and every external object. Butthough these were excluded, the sorceress by her art had also excludedthe appearance of limits and boundaries. The scene was not terminated bywalls and espaliers, but by the entrance on either side of a wild, meandring wood. The side by which you were introduced was protected bytrees of the thickest foliage; and the gate was masqued with a clump ofhazels and alders, which permitted only two narrow passages on eitherside. The eye was shut in, but the imagination was permitted to range inperfect freedom. Nor was this seeming confinement calculated to disgust;on the contrary you willingly believed that every charm and every gracewas shut up in the circle, and you trembled lest the smallest outletshould take off from the richness of the scene. In entering you werestruck with a sensation of coolness, that impervious shades, a brightand animated verdure, flowers scattered here and there in agreeabledisorder, the prattling of the stream, and the song of a thousand birds, impressed as strongly upon the imagination, as the senses. But this didnot appear the result of art. Every thing had the face of uncultivatedluxuriance, and impenetrable solitude. You could not believe that youwere not the first mortal that had ever found his way into theenchanting desert. 

The scene however had been solely produced by the skill of Rodogune. Erewhile the grass had appeared dry and parched; a few solitary andleafless trees had been scattered up and down; there was no gaiety ofcolours to relieve the eye; and not one drop of water to give freshnessto the prospect. But with the operations of magic Rodogune had delightedto supersede the parsimony of nature. She caused the tree and the shrubto spring forth in the richest abundance; the sturdiness of whosetrunks, or the deepness of their verdure, cheated the eye with thesemblance of the ripening hand of time. She sprinkled the turf, short, fine, and vivid, with flowers both native and exotic. She called forth athousand fountains to enrich the scene. Sometimes they crept beneath theturf in almost imperceptible threads; sometimes they ran beside thealleys, or crossed them in sportive wantonness; and sometimes you mightsee them in broader and more limpid currents rolling over a smooth andspotted bed. Now they rose from the soil in foamy violence, and fellupon the chalk and pebbly ground beneath; and anon they formedthemselves into the deeper bason [sic], whose calm and even surfacereflected back the reeds and shrubs that were planted round. There wasnothing strait and nothing level; the rule and the line had neverentered the delicious spot; the irregularities of the soil, and thefantastic, gradual windings of the alleys, were calculated to givelength to the passage, and immensity to the scene. 

From time to time you encountered tufts of trees closely planted, andthat cast as brown a shade as the thickest forest. These were partlycomposed of wood of the most pliant texture, the extremities of whosebranches, bending to the earth, took root a second time in her bosom. Elsewhere the rasberry [sic], the rose, the lilac, and a thousandflowering shrubs, appeared in thickets without either regularity orsymmetry, and contributed at once to adorn, and to give an air ofrudeness and wildness to the prospect. Round the body of the trees, planted some at their root, and some upon the different parts of thetrunk, crept the withy, the snakeweed, the ivy, and the hop, andintermingled with them the jessamine and the honeysuckle, in the mostunbounded profusion. Their tendrils hung from the branches, and waved tothe wind; and suggested to you the appearance of garlands scattered fromtree to tree by the nymphs of the grove. All was inexpressibleluxuriance, and a thousand different shades of verdure were placed, oneupon another, in regular confusion, and attractive disorder. Anexuberance of this sort was calculated in a vulgar scene to have checkedthe fertility of the plants, and to have given a sickly and witheredappearance to their productions; but it was not so in the garden ofRodogune. There the cherry and the grape, the downy peach and the purpleplum were half discovered amid the foliage of the hop, and the clustersof the woodbine. Beneath the delicious shade you wandered over beds ofmoss, undeformed with barren sands and intrusive weeds, and smooth asthe level face of ocean when all the winds of heaven sleep. 

Nor was this all. Inanimate and vegetable nature (and the observationhad not escaped the penetration of Rodogune) adorn and arrange it as youwill, infallibly suggests an idea of solitude, that communicates sadnessto the mind. Accordingly your path was here beguiled with the warblingof a thousand birds, the full-toned blackbird, the mellow thrush, andthe pensive nightingale. The sorceress had invited them to her retreat, by innumerable assiduities and innumerable conveniences of food andresidence, and had suffered no rude intrusion to disturb the sacrednessof their haunts. Unused to molestation in all their pursuits, they nowshowed no terror of human approach, but flew, and hopped, and sung, andplayed among the branches and along the ground, in thoughtless securityand wanton defiance. 

For a few moments Imogen was immersed in the contemplation of thebeauties of the place, and its delightful coolness and mingled fragrancewere balm and softness to her wounded soul. The domestic who accompaniedher, perceived her propensity to reflection and fell back to a smalldistance. The shepherdess, as soon as she found herself disengaged andalone, revolved with the utmost displeasure her present situation. "Howhappy, " cried she, "are the virgins of the vale! To them every hour iswinged with tranquility and pleasure. They laugh at sorrow; they trillthe wild, unfettered lay, or wander, chearful and happy, with thefaithful swain beneath the woodland shade. They fear no coming mischief;they know not the very meaning of an enemy. Innocent themselves, theyapprehend not guilt and treachery in those around them. Nor have theyreason. Simplicity and frankness are the unvaried character of thenatives of the plain. Liberty, immortal, unvalued liberty, is thedaughter of the mountains. We suspected not that deceit, insidiousness, and slavery were to be found beneath the sun. Ah, why was I selectedfrom the rest to learn the fatal lesson! Unwished, unfortunatedistinction! Was I, who am simple and undisguised as the light of day, who know not how to conceal one sentiment of my heart, or arm myselfwith the shield of vigilance and incredulity, was I fitted by nature fora scene like this? In the mean time have not the Gods encouraged me bythe most splendid appearance, and the most animating praises? I wouldnot impeach their venerable counsels. But was this a time for applausesso seducing? How greatly have they perplexed, and how deeply distressedme! In what manner, alas! are they to be obeyed, and what am I to thinkof the professions of my ravisher? But, no; I dare not permit my purposeto be thus suspended. My danger here is too imminent. The deliverance ofmy own honour and the felicity of my parents are motives too sacred, notto annihilate every ambiguity and every doubt. Oh, that I could escapeat once! Oh, that like the tender bird, that hops before me in my path, I could flit away along the trackless air! Why should the little birdsthat carol among the trees be the only beings in the domains of Roderic, that know the sweets of liberty? But it will not be. Still, still I amunder the eye and guardianship of heaven. Wise are the ways of heaven, and I submit myself with reverence. Only do ye, propitious Gods, support, sustain, deliver me! Never was frail and trembling mortal lessprepared to encounter with machination, and to brave unheard of dangers. How fearful are those I have already encountered; and how much have I toapprehend from what may yet remain! But if I am weak, the omnipotentsupport to which I look is strong. I will not give way to impiousdespondence. It has delivered, and it may yet deliver me. "

By such virtuous and ingenuous reflections the shepherdess endeavouredto solace her distress, and to fortify her courage. Now by revolving herdangers she sought to prepare for their encounter; and now she dismissedthe recollection as too depressing and too melancholy. The confinednessof the prospect, though rich infinitely beyond any thing she had yetseen, and though not naturally calculated to fatigue and disgust, wasdestructive of all its beauty in the eyes of Imogen. It presented to hertoo just an image of the thraldom, which was the subject of all hercomplaints. She desired to fling her eye through a wider prospect; andthough unable even from the loftiest ground to discover the happyvalley, she coveted the slender gratification of beholding the utmostboundaries of the magic circle, and extending her view as near aspossible to her beloved home. She therefore advanced farther in thegarden, and presently arrived at a clear and open brow, where abeautiful alcove was erected to catch the point of view, from which thesurrounding objects appeared in the greatest variety, and with thehappiest effect. She entered; and the domestic that attended herremained in a distant part of the garden. 

Scarcely had Imogen seated herself, before she discovered, by a casualglance over the prospect, and at some distance, a youth, who seemed toadvance with hasty steps towards the castle. At first she was tempted toturn away her eye with carelessness and inattention. There was howeversomething in his figure, that led her, by a kind of fascination forwhich she could not account, to cast upon him a second glance and athird. He drew nearer. He leaped with an active bound over the fencethat separated him from the garden. It was the form of Edwin. His hairhung carelessly about his shoulders. His shepherd's pipe was slung inhis belt. His clear and manly cheeks glowed with the warmth of the day, and the anxiety of love. He entered the alcove. 

Had a ghost risen before Imogen, surrounded with all the horrors of theabyss, she could not have been struck with greater astonishment. As headvanced, she gazed in silence. She could not utter a word. Her verybreath seemed suppressed. At length he entered, and for a moment she hadvoice enough to utter her surprise. "Gracious powers!" exclaimedshe--"is it possible?--what is it that I see?--Edwin, belovedEdwin!"--and she sunk breathless upon her seat. The fictitious shepherdapproached her, folded her in his arms, and with repeated, burningkisses, which he had never before ventured to ravish from his disdainfulcaptive, restored her to life and perception. The confusion of Imogendid not allow her to animadvert upon his freedoms. She had the utmostconfidence in the person whose form he wore, and the guilelesssimplicity of pastoral life is accustomed to permit many undesigningliberties, and is slow to take the alarm, or to suspect a sinisterpurpose. 

Roderic, anxious and timid respecting the success of his adventure, wasbackward to enter into conversation. Imogen, on the other hand, charmedwith so unexpected an appearance, and presaging from it the most auspiciousconsequences, full of her situation and sufferings, and having a thousandthings that pressed at once to be told, was eager and impatient tocommunicate them to her faithful shepherd. She was also desirous oflearning by what undiscoverable means, by what happy fortune, he had beenconducted to this impervious retreat, and at so critical a juncture. "Edwin, --my gallant Edwin, --how came you hither?--Sure it was somepropitious power, --some unseen angel, --that conducted you. --Oh, myfriend, --I have been miserable, --perplexed--tortured--but it is nowno more--I will not think of it--Thanks to the immortal Gods, I have nooccasion--no room--but for gratitude. --Edwin--what have you done--andhow did you escape the tempest?--Was it not a fearful storm?--But Iask you a thousand questions--and you do not answer me. --You seemabashed--uncertain--what is the meaning of this?--Did you not cometo succour my distress?--Was it not pity for your poor--forlorn--desolateImogen--that directed your steps?"

"Yes, loveliest of thy sex, " replied her betrayer. "I flew upon thewings of love. I was brought along by a celestial, impulsive guidance, which I followed I knew not why. Oh how gracious the condescension, howhappy the obedience, how grateful the interview! Yes, Imogen, I was indespair. I was terrified at the concurring prodigies by which we wereseparated, and I feared never, never to behold that beauteous formagain. Come then and let me clasp thee to my bosom. Oh, thou art sweeterthan the incense-breathing rose, and brighter than the lily of thevale!"

For a moment, the affectionate and unsuspicious shepherdess received hiscaresses with complacence and pleasure. Suddenly however she recollectedherself; instinctively and without reflection she repulsed the unduewarmth of his attentions. "This, " cried she, "is no time for fondindulgence, and careless dalliance--Fate is on the wing. --Our situationis arduous--and we are in the midst of enemies. --Every thing thatsurrounds us is full of danger--all is deceit and treachery--appearancesare insidious--all is frightful suspense and headlong precipice. --Theplotter of my ruin is as potent as he is--Ah! every hour is big withcalamity and destruction--every moment that we stay here is in the lastdegree hazardous and decisive. --My keepers may be alarmed--Those eyesthat never close may be summoned to attention--we may be hemmedin--prevented--Oh, Edwin, how fearful is this place--and howunhoped--how joyful to me--must be an escape. --I thought this hated seathad been impervious and impassable--Hark!--Did you not hear the sound offeet?--No--every thing is still--Let us go this way--Say, by what pathdid you come--Let us hasten our flight--let us make no delay--not lookbehind. "

"Yes, Imogen, " replied Roderic, detaining her, "we will escape--Butthis, my lovely maiden, is not the time--I am not yet prepared--We mayremain here in security--already the shades of evening begin to draw. Every thing is now busy and active. We cannot pass from hence withoutobservation. In the silence of the night the attempt will be morepracticable. And you, Imogen, are a heroine. The Gods will watch overus. Silence and darkness have nothing in them at which innocence shouldbe terrified. Till then let us reconcile ourselves to our situation. Letus endeavour, by secrecy and stilness, not to attract to us theattention of the enemies with which we are surrounded. Let us banishfrom them curiosity and suspicion. And let us trust in the Gods, propitious to rectitude, that they will look down with favour upon adesign prompted by virtue and urged by oppression. "

"Alas, Edwin, " replied the shepherdess "it is with regret that I consentto remain one moment longer in this fatal spot. But I will submit toyour direction, I will confide in your prudence; I will trust in yourfidelity, and your zeal, for the deliverance I so ardently desire. Herehowever we cannot long remain undiscovered. --My absence will besuspicious. --I will return once again to the hated mansion. --You, myswain, must conceal yourself in the mazes of this friendly wilderness. It shall not be long ere I come to you again. --With motives like mine toinspire ingenuity, I shall easily find a way to elude the strictestguard, and escape from the closest thraldom. --Say, my Edwin!--thisstratagem shall suffice, --and you shall lead me in safety under thefriendly cover of the night to liberty and innocence!"

"Yes, " exclaimed Roderic, suddenly recollecting himself, "you may beassured that by me nothing shall be omitted, that can further yourescape from this detested prison. The perils I have already incurred maywell convince you of this. It has been through the most fearful dangers, ready every moment to be overwhelmed with omnipotent mischief, that Ihave reached you. I have approached by the most devious and undiscoveredpaths. Though the greatest hazards are to be encountered in the cause ofinnocence and honour, the conduct we should pursue is thereforeambiguous, and our success involved in uncertainty and darkness. OhImogen, I may now behold thee for the last time. The moment we sallyfrom this retreat, I may be discovered by that enemy from whom we haveso much to fear. I may be confined to all the wantonness of inventivetorture, and that beauteous form, and the smiles of that bewitchingcountenance may be torn from these longing eyes for ever. But here, myshepherdess, we are safe. We may here secure ourselves from suddenintrusion, and a thousand means of concealment are here in our power. This Imogen is the moment of our ascendancy, this little period is allour own. In a short time the precious hours will be elapsed, theinvaluable instants will be run out. Oh, my love, fairest, most angelicof thy sex, while they are yet ours, let us improve them. "--He ceased;and his countenance glistened with the anticipations of enjoyment, andhis eyes emitted the sparkles of lust. 

But the imagination of Imogen was not sullied with the impressions ofindecency, and the baseness of looser desires. She understood not theinnuendos of Roderic, and she remarked not with an eager and inquisitiveeye the distraction of his visage. She replied therefore only to themore obvious tendency of what he said. "And is this, Edwin, all theconsolation you bring me? Ah how poor, how heartless, and how cold! Ifwe accomplish not that flight upon which my hopes and wishes aresuspended, what utility and what pleasure can we derive from thisinterview? It will then only be a bitter aggravation of all my trials, and all my miseries. If a prospect so unexpected and desirable terminatein no advantage, for what purpose was it opened before me? It will butrender my sensations more poignant, and give a new refinement to theexquisiteness of despair. 

"But no, my Edwin, let us not give way to despondence. The Gods, mygenerous swain, the same Gods that give luxuriance and felicity to theplain, and that have guided you through every hazard to this imperviousspot, will assuredly deliver us. Remember the lessons of theheaven-taught Druids. There is an innate dignity and omnipotence invirtue. She may be surrounded with variety of woes, but none of themshall approach her. The darts of calamity may assail her on every side, but she is invulnerable to them all. Before her majesty, the fiercenessof all the tenants of the wood is disarmed, and the more untamedbrutality of savage man is awed into mute obedience. She may not indeedput on the insolence of pride, and the fool-hardiness of presumption. But wherever her duty calls, she may proceed fearless and unhurt. Shemay be attacked, but she cannot be wounded: she may be surprised, butshe cannot be enslaved: she may be obscured for a moment, but it shallonly be to burst forth again more illustrious than ever. 

"But you, Edwin, are much better acquainted with these things, and moreable to instruct than I. They were ever the favourite subject of yourattention. I have seen you with rooted eye fixed for hours in listeningadmiration of the sublime dictates of the hoary Llewelyn. --It is littleto learn, to understand, and to admire. A barren and ineffectualenthusiasm for the speculations of truth, was never respectable and wasnever venerable. Now, my swain, is the moment in which these sacredlessons are to be called into action, and in which, beyond all others, reputation is to be asserted and character fixed. Leave not then to methe business of inciting and animating you. Be you my leader andprotector. "

"Alas, my charming mistress, " replied her admirer, "I would to God itwere in my power to inspire you with hope and fill you with courage. Iconfess that while peril was at a distance, and I sat secure in thetranquil vale, I received without distinction the doctrines of theDruids, and bowed assent to their sacred lessons. But practice, myImogen, and the scenes of danger differ beyond conception from the ideaswe form of them in the calmness of repose. Something must be allowed tothe unruffled solitude of these sacred men, and something to the sublimeof poetry. Surely it is no part of comprehensive prudence to banish theidea of those hazards that must be encountered, and to refuse to surveythe snares and the difficulties with which our path is surrounded. Remember, my fair one, the malignant suspiciousness of your jailer, andthe comfortless darkness of the night. "--

"Oh Edwin, and is this the strain in which you were wont to talk? Whyare you thus altered, and what means this inauspicious quick-sightednessand alarm? We should indeed survey and prepare for danger, but we shouldnever suffer it to overwhelm us. The cause of integrity should never bedespaired of. What avails the suspicions of my keeper? The ever wakefuleye of heaven can make them slumber. Why should we reck the gloom andloneliness of the night? Virtue is the ever-burning lamp of the sacredgroves. No darkness can cast a shadow on her beams. Though the sun andmoon were hurled below the bosom of the circling ocean, virtue could seeto perform her purposes, and execute her great designs. Alas, my swain, my voice is weak, and broken, and powerless. But willingly would Ibreathe a soul to animate your timidity. Oh Edwin, " and she folded himin her alabaster arms to her heaving, anxious bosom, "let me not exhortyou in vain! It is but for a little while, it is but for one shorteffort, and if the powers above smile propitious on our purpose, we arehappy for ever! Think how great and beautiful is our adventure. Comfortless and desponding as I am now, ready to sink without life andanimation at your feet, I may be in a few hours happier than ever. --OhEdwin, lead on!--Can you hesitate?--Would it were in my power to rewardthe virtue I would excite as it deserves to be rewarded. But the Godswill reward you, Edwin. "--

As she uttered these words, her action was unspeakably graceful, hercountenance was full of persuasion, and her voice was soft, andeloquent, and fascinating. Roderic gazed upon her with insatiatecuriosity, and drank her accents with a greedy ear. For a moment, charmed with the loftiness of her discourse and the heroism of her soul, he was half persuaded to relent, and abjure his diabolical purpose. Itwas only by summoning up all the fierceness of his temper, all theimpatience of his passions, and all the mistaken haughtiness andinflexibility of his purpose, that he could resist the artlessenchantment. During the internal struggle, his countenance by no meansanswered to the simplicity of pastoral sentiments. It was now fierce, and now unprotected and despairing. Anon it was pale with envy, and anonit was flushed with the triumph of brutal passion. Transitions likethese could not pass unobserved. Imogen beheld them with anxiety andastonishment, but suspicion was too foreign in her breast, to be thusexcited. 

"Imogen, " cried the traitor, "it is in your power to reward the noblestacts of heroism that human courage can perform. Who in the midst of allthe exultation and applause that triumphant rectitude can inspire, couldlook to a nobler prize than the condescension of your smiles and theheaven of your embraces? No, too amiable shepherdess, it is not formyself I fear; witness every action of my life; witness all thosedangers that I have this moment unhesitatingly encountered, that I mightfly to your arms. But, oh, when your safety is brought to hazard, I feelthat I am indeed a coward. Think, my fair one, of the dangers thatsurround us. Let us calmly revolve, before we immediately meet them. Nosooner shall we set our foot beyond this threshold, than they willcommence. Tyranny is ever full of apprehensions and environed withguards. Along the gallery, and through the protracted hall, centinelsare placed with every setting sun. Could you escape their observations, an hundred bolts, and an hundred massive chains secure the hinges of theimpious mansion. Beyond it all will be dark, and the solitude inviolate. But suppose we meet again, --by what path to cross the wide extendedglade, and to reach the only avenue that can lead us safely through thishorrid cincture, will then be undiscoverable. Amid the untamed forestand untrod precipices that lie beyond, all the beasts most inimical toman reside. There the hills re-echo the tremendous roarings of the boar;the serpents hiss among the thickets; and the gaunt and hungry wolfroams for prey. Oh, Imogen, how fearful is the picture! And can yourtender frame, and your timid spirits support the reality?"

Imogen had now preserved the character of heroism and fortitude for aconsiderable time. All the energies of her soul had been exerted toencounter the trials and surmount the difficulties which she felt to beunavoidable. When the beloved form of Edwin had appeared before her, sherelaxed in some degree from the caution and vigilance she had hithertopreserved. It is the very nature of joyful surprize to unbend as it werethe strings of the mind, and to throw wide the doors of unguardedconfidence. Before, she had felt herself alone; she saw no resource butin her own virtue, and could lean upon no pillar but her own resolution. Now she had trusted to meet with an external support; she had poured outher heart into the bosom of him in whom she confided, and she looked tohim for prudence, for suggestion and courage. But, instead of support, she had found debility, and instead of assistance the resources of herown mind were dried up, and her native fortitude was overwhelmed anddepressed. She turned pale at the recital of Roderic, her kneestrembled, her eyes forgot their wonted lustre, and she was immersed inthe supineness and imbecility of despair. 

"Edwin!"--she cried, with a tone of perturbation; but her utterancefailed her. Her voice was low, hoarse, and inaudible. The fictitiousshepherd supported her in his arms. Her distress was a new gratificationand stimulus to her betrayer. "Edwin, ah, wherefore this fearfulrecital? Did you come here for no other purpose than to sink me tentimes deeper in despair? Alas, I had conceived far other expectations, and far other hopes fluttered in my anxious bosom, when I first beheldyour well known form. I said I have been hitherto constant anddetermined, though unsupported and melancholy. I shall now betriumphant. I shall experience that heaven-descended favour, which everattends the upright. Edwin, my firm, heroic Edwin, will perform what Iwished, and finish what I began. And, oh, generous and amiable shepherd, is it thus that my presages are fulfilled? No, I cannot, will not bearit. If the courage of Edwin fail, I will show him what he ought to be. If you dare not lead, think whether you dare follow whither I guide. Youshall see what an injured and oppressed woman can do. Feeble and tenderas we are formed by nature, you shall see that we are capable of somefortitude and some exertion. " As she said this she had risen, and wasadvancing towards the door. But recollecting herself with a sudden pang, "Alas, " cried she, "whither do I go?--What am I doing?--What shall Ido?--Oh, Edwin!" and, falling at his feet, she embraced his knees, "donot, do no [sic] not desert me in this sad, tremendous moment!"

"I will not, my Imogen, I will never desert you. One fate shall attendus both. And if you are called to calamity, to torture, and to death, Edwin will not be supine and inactive. " "Oh, now, " cried she, her eyesmoistened with rapture, "I recognize my noble and gallant swain. Comethen, and let us fly. If we must encounter peril and disaster, whatavails it to suspend the trial for a few niggard hours? This, my friend, my guardian, --this is the time--Now the master dragon sleeps--Roderic isnow unconscious and distant--and I fear him too much to apprehend anything from a meaner adversary--Let us fly--let us escape--let our speedoutstrip the rapid winds!"

During their conversation, the heavens had been covered with clouds, andthe rain descended with violence. But the change had not been noticed byImogen. "Well then, my fair one, we will depart. What though the windwhistles along the heath, and the rain patters among the elms? We willdefy their fury. Let us go! But, ah, my Imogen, look there! The hindsare flying across the plain for shelter; and see! two of them approachto the clump of trees directly before us on the outside of the garden. No, shepherdess, it is in vain that we resolve, and in vain that westruggle: we cannot escape. "

The mind of Imogen was now wrought up to the extremest distress. Herheart was wrung with anguish. She was ready to charge the immortals withconspiring against her, had not her piety forbad it. She saw the realityof what Roderic stated, and yet she was ready to charge him with raisingeternal obstacles. She cast upon him a look of despair and agony. Butshe did not read in the countenance of the imaginary shepherd congenialsentiments. "Methinks, " said she, with a voice full of reproachfulblandishment, and inimitable sweetness, "methinks it is not with thetenderness of sympathy, that you tell me we must desist. Sure it is onlythe mist of tears through which I behold you, that makes me see thesuppressed emotion of pleasure in your countenance. No, it is not in theheart of Edwin to harbour for a moment the sentiments of barbarity andinsult--But if we cannot now escape--if the dangers to which we mustsubmit may be diminished by delay--indeed, Edwin, something must beattempted--at least let us now fix upon a plan, and determine what todo. Let not delay relax the spirit of enterprise, or shake the firmnessof our purpose. "

"And what plan, " cried the pretended shepherd, "can we form? I havealready trod the intricate and dangerous road, and there is nothingbetter for us than to tread my footsteps back again. The day isparticularly unfavourable, as it is accompanied with activity andbusiness. We must therefore wait for the night. Then we must watch ouropportunities, and embrace the favourable interval. Imogen, I feel notfor myself. I do not throw away a thought upon my own safety, and I amready to submit to every evil for your service and your defence. Butyet, my gentle, noble-minded shepherdess, I cannot promise any veryflattering probability of success. Indeed my hopes are not sanguine. Thedifficulties that are before us appear to me insurmountable. Onemountain peeps through the breaches of another, and they are like a wallbuilt by the hand of nature, and reaching to the skies. Penmaenmawr isheaped upon Snowdon, and Plinlimmon nods upon the summit of Penmaenmawr. It is only by the intervention of a miracle that we can ever revisit thedear, lamented fields of Clwyd. Let us then, my Imogen, composeourselves to the sedateness of despair. Let us surrender the success ofour future efforts to fate. And let us endeavor to solace the short andonly certain interval that we yet can call our own, by the recollectionof our virtuous loves. "

"Alas, " cried Imogen, "I understand not in what the sedateness ofdespair consists. In the prospect of every horrid mischief, mischiefthat threatens not merely my personal happiness or mortal existence, butwhich bears a malignant aspect upon the dignity of honour and the peaceof integrity, I cannot calmly recollect our virtuous loves, or derivefrom that recollection sedateness and composure. Edwin, your language isdissonant, and the thoughts you seek to inspire, jarring andincompatible. If you must tell me to despair, at least point me to somenobler source of consolation, than the coldness of memory; at least letus prepare for the fate that awaits us in a manner decent, manly, andheroic. "

"Yes, too amiable shepherdess, if I were worthy to advise, I wouldrecommend a more generous source of consolation, and teach you toprepare for futurity in a manner worthy of the simplicity of your heart;and worthy of that disinterested affection we have ever borne to eachother. Think of those sacred ties that have united us. Think of the softand gentle commerce of mutual glances; the chaste and innocentcommunication with which we have so often beguiled the noontide hour;the intercourse of pleasures, of sentiments, of feelings that we haveheld; the mingling of the soul. Did not heaven design us for each other?Is not, by a long probation of simplicity and innocence, the possessionof each other become a mutual purchase? An impious and arbitrary tyranthas torn us asunder. But do the Gods smile upon his hated purpose? Doeshe not rather act in opposition to their decrees, and in defiance oftheir authority?"

The magician paused. "Alas, " replied the shepherdess, "what is it youmean? Whither would you lead me? I understand you not. These indeed weremotives for fortitude and exertion, but what consolation can they impartto the desponding heart?" "I will tell you, " replied her seducer, folding her slender waist with one of his arms as he spoke. "Since theGods are on our side, since heaven and earth approve our honestattachment, let us sit here and laugh at the tyrant. While he doubleshis guards, and employs all his vigilance, let us mock his impotentefforts. "

"Ah, " replied the shepherdess, her eye moistened with despair, andbeaming with unapprehensiveness, "how strange and impracticable anadvice do you suggest! Full of terror, full of despair, you bid me laughat fear. Threatened by a tyrant whose power is irresistible, and whosearts you yourself assure me are not to be evaded, you would have me mockat those arts, and this dreaded power. Is not his power triumphant? Isnot all his vigilance crowned with a fatal success? Are we not hismiserable, trembling, death-expecting victims? Can we leave thisapartment, can we almost move our hand, or utter our voice, forsolicitude and terror? Oh Edwin, in what mould must that heart have beencast, what must be its hard and unsusceptible texture, that can laugh atsorrow, and be full of the sensations of joy, though surrounded with allthe engines of wretchedness?"

"Imogen, your fears are too great, your anxieties exaggerate theindigence of our condition. Though we are prisoners, yet even themisfortunes of a prison have their compensations. The activity of theimmaterial mind, will not indeed submit long without reluctance toconfinement and restraint. But we have not yet experienced lassitude anddisgust. " "Alas, Edwin, how strange and foreign are thoughts like these!Whither do they tend? What would you infer from them?"

"This my love I would infer. That within one little cincture we are yetabsolute. No prying eye can penetrate here. Of our words, of ouractions, during a few remaining hours, we can dispose without controul. "

"Ah, " exclaimed the shepherdess, struck with a sudden suspicion of thetreacherous purpose, and starting from her betrayer, "ah, Edwin, yet, yet explain yourself! A thousand horrid thoughts--a thousand dire andshapeless phantoms--But Edwin, --sure--is plain, and artless, andinnocent. --What boots it that we can dispose of our words and actionswithin this cincture?--Will that enable us to escape?--No, no, no, no. --Escape you say is hopeless--What is it you mean?--Say--explainyourself--Oh, Edwin!"--

"Be not alarmed, " cried the remorseless villain. "Listen, yet listenwith calmness to the suggestions of my deliberate mind. Imogen, you aretoo beautiful--I have beheld you too long--I have admired you with toofierce an ardour. The Gods--the Gods have joined us. It is guilt andmalignity alone that oppose their purpose. --Let us beat themdown--trample them under our feet--employ worthily the moment that yetremains. "--

As the magician pronounced these words, he advanced towards his captive, and endeavoured to seize her in his arms. But she thrust him from herwith the warmest indignation; and contemplating him with an eye ofinfinite disdain, "Base unworthy swain!"--she cried--"Insidioustraitor!--abhorred destroyer!--And is it thus that you would approachme?--Is it thus that you would creep into the weakness of my heart?--Butfly--I know you not--One mark of compassion I will yet exhibit, whichyou little deserve--Fly--I will not deliver you into the hands of yourrival, whom yet my soul does not so much loath and abhor--Fly--Live tobe pointed at as an example of degeneracy--Live to blush for and repentof that crime, which, Edwin!--cannot be expiated. "

Roderic had advanced too far to be thus deterred. He did not wish tomanage the character under which he appeared. His passions by thisinterview, more private, and in which his captive had beheld him with aneye of greater complacency than ever, were inflamed to the extremestdegree. The charms of Imogen had been in turn heightened with joy, andmellowed with distress. Even the conscious dignity, and haughty air shenow assumed, gave new attractions to her form, and new grace to hermanner. Her muscles trembled with horror and disdain. Her eloquent bloodwrought distinctly in her veins, and spoke in a tone, not more dignifiedthan enchanting. Her whole figure had a life, an expression, aloveliness, that it is impossible to conceive. 

Roderic rushed forward unappalled, and unsubdued. He had already seizedhis unwilling victim. In vain she resisted his violence; in vain shestrove to escape from her betrayer. "For pity's sake--for mercy'ssake--for the sake of all our past endearments--spare me!--relent--andspare me--spare me!--" For a time she struggled; but her tender framewas soon overcome by the strength of her destroyer. She became cold andinsensible in his arms. 

At this moment a flood of splendid lightning filled the apartment. Theair was rent with the hoarse and deafening roar of the thunder, the doorflew open, and the form of that spectre that he most abhorred stoodbefore Roderic. "Go on, " cried the phantom, "complete thy heroicpurpose. Scorn the tremendous sounds that now appal thee. They are butthe prelude of that scene that shall shortly feast my eyes. Perceivestthou not the earth to tremble beneath thy feet? Hearest thou not thewalls of thy hated mansion cracking to their ruin? Confusion is at hand. _Chaos is come again. _ Go on then, Roderic. Complete thy heroicpurpose. " The spectre vanished, and all was uninterrupted silence. 

The whole mind of Roderic was transformed from what it was. For theimpotence of lust, and the cruelty of inexorable triumph, he felt theterrors of annihilation, and all the cold, damp tremblings of despair. But the victory of innocence was not yet complete. 

Imogen had sunk for a moment under the horrors that threatened her, butshe had not been so far impercipient as not to hear the murmuring of thethunder, and to see the gleam of the lightning. The form however thatterrified Roderic, and the voice that addressed him, were perceived byhim alone. 

The shepherdess opened her eyes, and beheld the degenerate ravisherpale, aghast, and trembling. "It is well, Edwin. The Gods have declaredthemselves. The Gods have suspended their thunder over the head of theapostate. Rut, oh Edwin, could I have imagined it! Desolate andoppressed as I have been, could I have supposed, that that form wasdestined to fill up the measure of my woes! I once beheld it as theharbinger of happiness, as the temple of integrity and innocence. Oh, how wretched you have made me! How you have shaken all my most rootedopinions of the residence of virtue among mankind! Am I alone, andunsupported in her cause? How forlorn and solitary do I seem to myself!I suffered--once I suffered the thought of Edwin to mix with the love ofrectitude, and the obedience of heaven. They all together confirmed mein the path I had chalked out for myself. Mistake not these reproachesfor the weakness of returning passion. And yet, Edwin, though I loath, Ipity you! Go, and repent! Go, and blot from the records of your memorythe cold insinuation, the aggravated guilt that you have this daypractised! Go, and let me never, never see you more!"

As she uttered these words, congratulation, reproach, wretchedness, abhorrence and pity succeeded each other in her countenance. Rut theywere all accompanied with an ineffable dignity, and an angelic purity. The savage and the satyr might have beheld, and been awed intoreverence. Roderic slunk away, guilty, mortified, and confounded. Andsuch was the success of this other attempt upon the virtue of Imogen. 

[Illustration]

BOOK THE SIXTH

IMOGEN ENDEAVOURS TO SUBDUE THE ATTENDANTS OF RODERIC. --THE SUPPER OFTHE HALL. --JOURNEY AND ARRIVAL OF EDWIN. --SUBTLETY OF THE MAGICIAN. --HEIS DEFEATED. --END OF THE SECOND DAY. 

The magician, overwhelmed and confounded with uninterrupteddisappointment, was now ready to give himself up to despair. "I haveapproached the inflexible fair one, " cried he, "by every avenue thatleads to the female heart. And what is the amount of the advantages Ihave gained? I tempted her with riches. But riches she considered withdisdain; they had nothing analogous to the temper of her mind, and heruncultivated simplicity regarded them as superfluous and cumbersome. Itaught her to listen to the voice of flattery; I clothed it in all thatis plausible and insinuating; but to no purpose. She was still upon herguard; all her suspicions were awake; and her integrity and herinnocence were as vigilant as ever. Incapable of effecting any thingunder that form she had learned to detest, I laid it aside. I assumed aform most prepossessing and most amiable in her eyes. Surely if herbreast had not been as cold as the snow that clothes the summit ofSnowdon; if her virtue had not been impregnable as the groves of Mona, astratagem, omnipotent and impenetrable as this, must have succeeded. Shebeheld the figure of him she loved, and this was calculated in a momentof distress to draw forth all her softness. She beheld the person of himin whom she had been wont to find all integrity, and place allconfidence, and this might have induced her to apprehend no danger. Andyet with how much tender passion, with how distressful an indignation, with what tumultuous sorrow did she witness his supposed crime? Whatthen must I do? What yet remains? I love her with a more frantic andirresistible passion than ever. I cannot abstain from her. --I cannotdismiss her. --I cannot forget her. Oh Imogen, too lovely, all-attractiveImogen, for you I stand upon the very brink of fate! Nor is this all. Soon should I leap the gulph, soon should forget every prudent andcolder prospect in the tumult of my soul, did not that cursed spectreever shoot across my path to dash my transports, and to mar myenjoyments. Which way shall I turn? To leave her, that is impossible. Topossess her by open force and manly violence, that my fate forbids. Myunderstanding is bewildered, and my invention is lost. --Medoro!"--

Medoro received the well known signal, and stood before Roderic. Hewaited not to be addressed, he read the purposes of the heart of themagician. "Roderic, " cried he, "this moment is the crisis of you[r]destiny. The occasion, to which the curse pronounced upon you by theinimical spectre refers, has already in part taken place. YOU HAVE SUEDTO A SIMPLE MAID, WHO BY YOUR CHARMS HAS BEEN TAUGHT TO HATE THE SWAINTHAT ONCE SHE LOVED. It only remains that she should persevere in theresistance she has hitherto made, and that A SIMPLE SWAIN, perhaps herfavoured Edwin, should defy your enchantments. Think then of theprecipice on which you stand. Yet, yet return, while it is in yourpower. One step in advance beyond those you have already taken may beirretrievable. Alas, Roderic, it is thus that I advise! but I foreseethat my advice will be neglected. The Gods permit to the invisibleinhabitants of air, when strongly invoked by a mortal voice, to assisttheir vices and teach adroitness to their passions; but they do notpermit an invocation like this to receive for its reward the lesson ofmoderation, and the attainment of happiness. 

"Go on then, Roderic, in the path upon which you are inflexiblydetermined. You succeeded not in the stratagem of flattery; but itserved to take off the keenness of the aversion of Imogen. Shecontemplates you now with somewhat less of horror, and with a virtuousand ingenuous fear of uncandidness and injustice upon your account. Neither have you succeeded in that deeper stratagem and less penetrabledeceit, the assumption of the form of him she loved. It has howeverserved to weaken her prepossessions, and relax the chains of herattachment. She is now the better prepared to receive openly andimpartially the addresses of a stranger swain. Thus even yourmiscarriages have furthered your design. Thus may a wise general converthis defeats into the means of victory. Think not however again toapproach her in the coolness of reason, and the sobriety of thejudgment. Hope not by temptation, by flattery, by prejudice, to shakethe immutable character of her mind. There is yet one way unessayed. Youmust advance, if you would form the slightest expectations of victory, by secret and invisible steps. Her virtue must be surrounded, entangledand enmeshed, or ever her suspicions be awakened, or her integrityalarmed. This can be effected only by the instrumentality of pleasure. Pleasure has risen triumphant over many a heart that riches could notconquer, and that ambition could not subdue. What though she hasresisted temptation under the most alluring form, when her thoughts werecollected and all around was silence?--Let the board of luxury bespread. Let the choicest dainties be heaped together in unboundedprofusion. Let the most skilful musicians awake the softest instruments. Let neatness, and elegance, and beauty exhibit their proudest charms. Let every path that leads to delight, let every gratification thatinebriates the soul be discovered. If at that moment temptationapproach, even a meaner and less potent temptation may then succeed. Thenight advances with hasty feet. Night is the season of dissipation andluxury. Be this the hour of experiment, and let the apprehensive mind ofImogen be first assiduously lulled to repose. Here, Roderic, you mustrest your remaining hopes. There is not another instrument can bediscovered, to disarm and vanquish the human mind. If here you fail, theGods have decreed it--they will be obeyed--Imogen must be dismissed fromthe enchanted halls of Rodogune. "

With these words the goblin disappeared. The warning he had utteredpassed unheeded, but the magician immediately prepared to employ thislast of stratagems. Summoning the train of attendants of either sex thatresided in the castle, he directed them some to make ready the intendedfeast, and some to repair to the apartment of Imogen. The preparationsof the enchanted castle were not like those of a vulgar entertainment. Every thing was accelerated by invisible agents. The intervention of theretinue of Roderic was scarcely admitted. The most savoury viands, themost high flavoured ragouts, and the most delicious wines presentedthemselves spontaneously to the expecting attendant. The hall wasilluminated with a thousand lustres that depended like stars from theconcave roof, and were multiplied by the reflection of innumerablemirrors. The whole was arranged with inconceivable expedition. 

In the mean time a few of the more distinguished attendants of her ownsex repaired to the presence of Imogen. They found her feeble, spiritless and disconsolate. "Come, " exclaimed their leader, in anaccent of persuasion; "comply, my lovely girl, let not us alone havereason to complain of your unfriendliness and inflexibility. "

Imogen was fatigued and she wished not for repose. Grief and persecutionhad in a former instance inspired her with the love of solitude. But herfeelings were now of another kind. The disgrace and ingratitude of Edwinhad wounded her in the tenderest point, and she could not think of itbut with inexpressible anguish. She was for the first time afraid of herown reflections, and desirous to fly from herself. "Yes, " exclaimed she, "and I would go, if you will promise me that it shall not be to thepresence of Roderic. The castle and the fields, the freshness of themorning air and the gloom of a dungeon, are equal to me, provided I mustbe kept back from the arms of my beloved parents, and their anxious andtender spirits must still be held in suspence. But indeed I must not, Iwill not, be continually dragged to the presence of the man I hate. Itis ungenerous, unreasonable, and indecent. What is the meaning of allthis compulsion? Why am I kept here so much against my will? Why am Idragged from place to place, and from object to object? Surely all thiscannot be mere caprice and tyranny. There must be in it some dark andguilty meaning that I cannot comprehend. Oh shepherdesses! if ye had anyfriendship, if any pity dwelt within your bosoms, ye would surely assistme to escape this hated confinement. Point but the way, show me but thesmallest hole, by which I might get away to ease and liberty, and Iwould thank you a thousand times. You, who appear the leader of thethrong, your brow is smooth, your eyes are gentle and serene, and thebloom of youth still dwells upon your face. Oh, " added the apprehensiveImogen, and she threw herself upon her knees--"do not bely the stamp ofbenevolence and clemency that nature has planted there. Think if you hadparents as I have, whose happiness, whose existence, are suspended uponmine, if you abbhorred, and detested, and feared your jailor as I do, what would be your feelings then, and how you would wish to be treatedby a person in your situation. Grant me only the poor and scanty boon, that you would then conceive your right. Dismiss me, I intreat you. Icannot bear my situation. My former days have all been sunshine, myformer companions have all been kindness. I have not been educated toencounter persecution, and misfortunes, and horrors. I cannot encounterthem. I cannot survive it. "

As she pronounced these words, she sunk, feeble, languid, andbreathless, upon the knees of the attendant. They hastened to raise her. They soothed her ingenuous affliction, and assured her that she shouldnot be intruded upon by him of whom she had formed so groundlessapprehensions. Since then she was invited to partake of a slightrefreshment accompanied only by persons of her own sex, she did not longhesitate, and was easily persuaded to acquiesce. The unostentatiouskindness of the invitation, and the modesty of the entertainment sheexpected, dissipated her fears. It was from solitude that she now wishedto escape; and it was to that simple and temperate relaxation that shehad experienced among the inhabitants of Clwyd, to which she wasdesirous to repair. 

She was conducted towards a saloon, which had less indeed of a sumptuousand royal appearance, but was more beautiful, more gay, more voluptuous, and more extatic than that which had been the scene of the temptation ofthe morning. The profuseness of the illuminations outdid the brightnessof the meridian sun. The table was spread in a manner to engage the eyeand allure the appetite. Every vessel that was placed upon it was ofmassive silver. And in different corners of the apartment heaps of themost fragrant incense were burning in urns of gold. The viands were of anature the most stimulating and delicious; and the wines were bright andsparkling and gay. As Imogen approached, a stream of music burst uponher ear of a kind which hitherto she had never witnessed. It was not thesonorous and swelling notes of praise; it was not the enthusiasticrapture of the younger bards; it was not the elevated and celestialsounds that she had been used to hear from the lyre of Llewelyn. But ifit was not so swelling and sublime, it was soft, and melodious, andinsinuating, and overpowering beyond all conception. You could notlisten to it without feeling all the strings of your frame relaxed, andthe nobler powers of your soul lulled into a pleasing slumber. It wasmadness all. The ear that heard it could not cease to attend. The mindthat listened to it was no longer master of itself. 

Imogen entered the hall, and was received by a train of nymphs, some ofthem more beautiful than any she had yet seen, and all attired withevery refinement of elegance and grace. Their hair was in part braidedround their bright and polished foreheads, and in part it hung in wavyand careless ringlets about their slender necks, and heaving bosoms. Their forms were veiled in loose and flowing folds of silk of the finesttexture, and whiter than the driven snow. The robes were not embroideredwith gold and silver; they were not studded with emeralds and diamonds;but were adorned on every side with chaplets of the fairest and freshestflowers. Their heads were crowned with garlands of amaranth and roses. Though their conduct were tainted with lasciviousness, and their mindswere full of looser thoughts, yet, awed by the virtuous dignity ofImogen, they suppressed the air of dissolute frolic, and taught by theguileful lessons of their lord, endeavoured to assume the manners ofchaste and harmless joy. 

The shepherdess, struck with the objects which so unexpectedly presentedthemselves to her eyes and her ears, started back with involuntaryastonishment. "Is this, " cried she, "the artless feast, and this thesimple fare of which you invited me to partake?" "Imogen, " replied theprincipal nymph, "we were willing to do you honour, and the preparationwe have made is slight compared with that which the roof can afford. Weconsidered your fatigue and your extraordinary abstinence, and we werewilling to compensate them by pleasant food, and a gratefulrefreshment. "

"And is such the grateful refreshment, and such the simple andunaffected relaxation that your minds suggested? Alas, were I toapproach this board, it would be to me a business and not an amusement, an exertion and not a relief. A feast like this is an object foreign andunpleasing to my eyes. The feasts of the valley are chesnuts, andcheeses, and apples. Our drink is the water of the limpid brook, or thefair and foaming beverage that our flocks afford. Such are theenjoyments of sobriety; such are the gratifications of innocence. Virgins, I am not weary of the simplicity of the pastoral life. I hug itto my bosom closer, more fondly than ever. "

"Amiable, spotless maiden! we admire your opinions, and we love yourperson. But virtue is not allied to rigour and austerity. Its boundariesare unconstrained, and graceful, and sweeping. It is a robe which sitseasily on those who are formed to wear it. It gives no awkwardness totheir manner, and puts no force upon their actions. Partake then, myImogen, in those refreshments we have prepared for your gratification. If this be not duty, it is not crime. It is a venial and a harmlessindulgence. Do not then mortify friends that have sought to please you, and refuse your attention to the assiduities we have demonstrated. "

"No, my gentle shepherdess, it is in vain you plead. I would willinglyqualify my refusal; but I must withdraw. The more you press me, thefarther it is necessary for me to recede. In the morning of this veryday, I was simple, and incautious, and complying. But now I haveexperienced so many wiles and escaped so many snares, that this heart, formerly so gentle and susceptible, is cased in triple steel. I can shutmy eyes upon the most splendid attractions. I can turn a deaf ear toenticements the most alluring, and sounds the most insinuating. This isthe lesson--I thank him for it--that your lord has taught me. You mustnot then detain me. I must be permitted to retire. " And saying this shewithdrew with trembling speed. In vain they insisted, in vain theypursued. Imogen escaped like a bird from the fowler, nor looked behind. Imogen was deaf to their expostulations, and indurate and callous asadamant to their persuasions. 

The disappointment of Roderic, when he learned of this miscarriage ofhis great and final attempt was extreme. He coursed up and down thesaloon with all the impatience of a wild boar pierced by the spear ofthe hunter, or a wolf from whom they have torn away her young. He ventedhis fury upon things inanimate. He tore his hair, and beat his breast, with tumultuous agony. He imprecated with a hoarse and furious voice athousand curses upon those attendants who had permitted his captive toescape. Through the spacious hall, where every thing a moment before hadworn the face of laboured gaiety and studied smiles, all was nowdesolation, and disquiet, and uproar. And urged as the magician had beenby successive provocations, he was ready to overstep every limit hemight once have respected, and to proceed to the most fatal extremities. 

In this situation, and as Roderic was hastening with a determinedresolution to follow to the apartment of Imogen, information wassuddenly brought to him, that a young stranger, tall and graceful in hisform, and of a frank and noble countenance, had by some unknown meanspenetrated beyond the precipices with which the enchanted castle wassurrounded, and in spite of the resistance of the retinue of themagician had entered the mansion. The dark and guilty heart of Rodericimmediately whispered him--"It is Edwin. --It is well. --I thank the Godsthat they do not hold this aspiring soul in a long and dreary suspence!Let the destinies overtake me. I am prepared to receive them. Death, orany of the thousand ills that fortune stores for them she hates, couldnot come in a more welcome hour. --Oh Imogen, lovely, adorable Imogen, how vain has been my authority, how vain the space of my command! Letthen my palaces tumble into ruin--Let that wand which once I boasted, shivered in a thousand fragments, be cast to all the winds of heaven! Iwill glory in desolation and forlornness. I will wrap myself in mypoverty. I will retire to some horrid cave in the midst of the untameddesart, and shagged with horrid shades, that outgloom the blackness ofthe infernal regions. There I will ruminate upon my past felicity. ThereI will tell over enjoyments never to return. I will make myself a littleuniverse, and a new and unheard of satisfaction in the darkness of myreflections, and the depth of my despair. 

"And yet surely, surely the Gods have treated me severely, and measuredout to me a hard and merciless fate. What are all the felicities I talkof, and have prized so much? Oh, they were seasoned, each of them, witha bitter infusion! Little, little indeed have I tasted of a pure andunmixed happiness. In my choicest delights, I have felt a vacancy. Theyhave become irksome and tedious. I have fled from myself; I have fledfrom the magnificence of my retinue, to find variety. And yet how dearlyam I to pay for a few gratifications which were in fact no better thanspecious allurements to destruction, and flowers that slightly coveredthe pit of ruin! In the bloom of manhood, in the full career of youth tobe cast forth an UNPITIED, NECESSITOUS, MISERABLE VAGABOND! All but thisI could have borne without a sigh. Were I threatened with death, in thisopening scene of life, I could submit with cheerfulness. But to dragalong a protracted misery, to be shut out from hope, and yet ever awaketo every cruel reflection and every bitter remorse--This is too much!"

From this dream of unmanly lamentations Roderic was with difficultyrecovered by the assiduities of the attendants. At length incited bytheir expostulations to the collectedness of reflection and thefortitude of exertion, he determined, with that quickness of inventionwith which he had been endowed at his birth, upon a plan to elude, ifpossible, the perseverance of Edwin, and the menaces of his fate. Recollecting that his person was not unknown to the swain, hecommunicated his instructions to those who were about him, and withdrewhimself into a private apartment. 

It was Edwin. The instructions of the Druid of Elwy had relieved himfrom the insupportable burden that had begun to oppress his mind. Persuaded by him he had submitted to seek the refreshment of sleep. Butsleep shed not her poppies upon his busy, anxious head. His mind wascrouded with a thousand fearful phantoms. A child of the valley, he wasa stranger to misfortune and misery. Upon the favoured sons of naturecalamity makes her deepest impression, and an impression least capableof being erased. And yet Edwin was full of courage and adventure; heasked no larger boon than to be permitted to face his rival. But hisinquietude was the offspring of love; and his wariness and cautionoriginated in the docility of his mind, and his anxious attachment toinnocence and spotless rectitude. 

Having passed the watches of the night in uneasy and inexhaustiblereflections, he sprung from his couch as soon as the first dawn of dayproclaimed the approaching sun, and took a hasty leave of the hospitablehermit. Issuing from the grotto, he bent his steps, in obedience to thedirection of Madoc, to that secret path, which had never before beendiscovered by any mortal unassisted by the goblins of the abyss. Beforehe reached it the golden sun had begun to decline from his meridianheight. He passed along the winding way beneath the impendingprecipices, which formed a dark and sullen vault over his head. Ever andanon large pieces of stone, broken from their native mass, and tumblingamong the craggy caverns, saluted his ear. Now and then he heard abubbling fountain bursting from the rock, which presently fell with aloud and dashing noise along the declivity, and was lost in the pebblesbelow. The only light by which his steps were guided, was that whichfell in partial and scanty streams through the fissures of the mountain, and served to discover little more than the shapelessness of the rocks, and the uncultivated horrors of the scene. 

Through these Edwin passed unappalled. His heart was naturally firm andintrepid, and he now cased himself round with the armour of untaintedinnocence and unsullied truth. It was not long before he came forth fromthis scene of desolation to that beautiful and cultivated prospect whichhad already enchanted the heart of Imogen. To him it had advantageswhich in the former case it could not boast. He could contrast itsgaiety and brightness with the obscure and dismal scene from which hehad escaped. Nor was he struck only by the verdure of the prospect, andthe vividness of its colours, he also beheld the inclosure, not, as hisamiable mistress had done, from a terrace adjoining to the mansion; butfrom the last point of the rock from which he was ready to descend. Themansion therefore was his principal point of view from this situation. It stood upon a bold and upright brow that beetled over the plain below. The ascent was by a large and spacious flight of marble steps. Itsarchitecture was grand, and simple, and commanding. It was supported bypillars of the Ionic order. They were constructed of ivory and jet, andtheir capitals were overlaid with the purest gold. An object like thisto one who had never before seen any nobler edifice than a shepherd'scot, or the throne of turf upon which the bards were elevated at thefeast of the Gods, was surprising, and admirable, and sublime in thehighest degree. 

"And this, " exclaimed the gallant shepherd, "is the residence preparedfor infamy and lust. The sun pours upon it his light with as large ahand, the herbage, the flowers and the fruits as fully partake of thebounteous care of nature, as the vales of simplicity and the fields ofinnocence. How venerable and alluring is the edifice I behold! Does notpeace dwell within, and are not the hours of its possessor winged withhappiness? Had my youth been spent among the beasts of the forests, hadnot my ears drank in the sacred instructions of the godlike Druids, Imight have thought so. But, no. In vain in the extensive empire that thearts of sorcery and magic afford, shall felicity be sought. What availsall this splendour? and to what purpose this mighty profusion? All thepossessions that I can boast, are my little flock, my wattled cottage, and my slender pipe. And yet I carol as jocound a lay, my heart is aslight and frolic, and the tranquility of self-acquittal spreads herwings as wide over my bosom, as they could were I lord of a hundredhills, and called all the streamlets of the valley my own. The magicianpossesses a large hoard of beauty, and he can wander from fair to fairwith unlimited and fearless licence. All merciful and benign beings, whodwell above this azure concave, give me my Imogen! Restore her safe andunhurt to these longing, faithful arms! Let not this arbitrary andimperious tyrant, who grasps wide the fairest productions of thycreation with a hundred hands, --let him not wrest from me my solitarylamb, --let him not seize for ever upon that companion, in whom the mostexpansive and romantic wishes of my heart had learned to be satisfied. "

Such were the beautiful and virtuous sentiments of Edwin, as he beheldthe empire of his rival from the head of the rock, and as he crossed theglade that still divided him from the object of all his exertions. Fromthe eminence upon which he had paused for a few contemplative moments, the distance had appeared narrow and trifling. But the equal height ofthe ground upon which he stood, and of that which afforded a situationfor the palaces of Roderic, had deceived him. When he looked towards thescene that was to form the termination of his journey, the glade belowescaped from his sight. But when he descended to the plain, it wasotherwise. One swell of the surface he had to traverse succeededanother; and the irregularity of the ground caused him sometimes to belost, in a manner, in the length of the way, and took from him theconsolation of being able so much as to perceive the object of hisdestination. As he passed the hills, and climbed each successive ascent, a murmur rose in his bosom; his impatience grew more and moreungovernable, and the eagerness of his pursuit taught him to imagine, that his little labour would never be done. 

Every performance however of human exertion has its period; and Edwinhad at length surmounted the greater part of the distance, and nowgained a larger and more distinct view of the castle. But by this timethe sun was ready to hide himself in the ocean, and his last rays nowgleamed along the valley, and played in the party-coloured clouds. Meanwhile a dark spot, which had for some time blotted the brightness ofthe surrounding azure, expanded itself. The shades gathered, the lightof the sun was hid, and the blackness of the night forestaled. The windroared among the mountains, and its terrors were increased by the hollowbellowings of the beasts they harboured. The shower began; it descendedwith fury, and Edwin had scarcely time to gain the protection of animpervious thicket that crowned the lawn. Here he stood and ruminated. The solemnity of the scene accorded with the importance of hisundertaking. The pause was friendly. He composed his understanding, andrecollected the lessons of the hospitable hermit. He fortified himselfin the habits of virtue; and, with a manly and conscious humility, recommended this crisis of his innocence to the protection of heaven. 

The shower ceased, but the darkness continued. He had too well markedhowever the bent of his journey during the continuance of the day, topermit this to be any considerable obstacle. In the mean time it doubledand rendered more affecting the stilness of the night. Nothing was to beheard but the low whispers of the falling breeze, and the murmurs of theprowling wolf that now languished and died away upon the ear. This wasthe moment in which magic lords it supreme, in which the goblin breaksforth from his confinement, and ranges unlimited in the nether globe;and in which all that is regular and all that is beautiful give place tothe hunger of the savage brute, and the witcheries of the sorcerer. ButRoderic was otherwise engaged. His heart was employed in inventingguile, and was lulled into unapprehensive security. But Edwin washeroic. His bosom swelled with the most generous purposes; and hetrusted unwaveringly in that guardianship that is every where present, and that eye that never slumbers. 

He entered the walls of the enchanted castle. The novelty of theappearance of a stranger within the circle of those mountains, which novulgar mortal had yet penetrated, the dignity of his appearance, and theboldness of his manner, at first distracted the attendants from theperformance of that, which might have seemed most natural in theirsituation, and awed them into passiveness. He still wore that flowingand graceful garb, which was appropriated by the inhabitants of Clwyd tothe celebration of public solemnities. He had passed through the midstof the shower, and yet one thread of his garment was not moistened withthe impetuousness of its descent. His face wore a more beautiful androseat glow than was native to its complexion. His eye was full ofanimation and expressiveness. Expectation, and hope, and dignity, andresolution had their entire effect in his appearance. "It is a celestialspirit!" cried they. "It is a messenger from the unseen regions!" andthey sought in his person for the insignia that might confirm andestablish their conjecture. 

But such was not the imagination of Roderic. The master-guilt to whichhe was conscious, was ever ready to take the alarm upon any unexpectedevent; and he had immediately conjectured, by a kind of instinctiveimpression, who was this new and unwelcome guest. However unguarded andunprepared had been his retinue, they had recollected themselvessufficiently to detain Edwin in the avenue of the mansion, till they hadreceived the orders of their lord. These were immediately communicated;and the magician withdrew himself till the proper period should arrivefor his appearance to the swain. 

Edwin, when he had entered the palace of Roderic, had been desirous, ifit were possible, to push forward to the presence of his rival, withoutmaking any previous enquiries, or admitting of a moment's pause. Thefrequency however of the domestics had disappointed his purpose, and hewas detained by them in spite of his efforts. "What means, " cried he, "this violence? I must enter here. I will not be delayed. My purposeadmits not of trifling and parley. To me every moment is big with fate. "He said. For Edwin disdained the employment of falsehood and disguise. He lifted the javelin in his hand, but his heart was too full ofgentleness and humanity rashly to employ the instrument of death. Histone however was resolute, and his gesture commanding, and theastonished attendants were uncertain in what manner to conductthemselves. 

At this instant a domestic, who had received the instructions of hislord, entered the court. He had the appearance of superior dignity; andremoving the attendants who pressed with rudeness upon the shepherd, heenquired of him the cause of his intrusion. "Lead me, " cried Edwin, "tothe lord of your mansion. My business is important and pressing, andwill not admit of being communicated to any other ear. Whence thisdifficulty? Innocence does not withdraw from the observation of thosewho are desirous to approach it; and a manly courage is not apprehensiveof an enemy. "

"Young stranger, " replied the domestic, "you are misinformed. Thismansion knows not a lord. It belongs solely to proprietors of the softersex, whom fortune has indulged as you perceive with every thing that iscalculated to give new relish to the pursuits of life, and beguile thelazy foot of time. It is our boast and our honour to serve thesedamsels. And could my report add one ray to their lustre, I would tellyou, that they are fair as the peep of the morning, and more fragrantthan beds of violets and roses. It is their command, that humanityshould be extended by all around them, not only to man, but to thehumblest and weakest animals. Though you have entered their residence bymistake, we shall but fulfil the service they expect in furnishing youwith every assistance and every accommodation in our power. If you arehungry, come in and partake of the liberal plenty the castle affords. Ifyou thirst, we will cheerfully offer you the capacious goblet and therichest wines. If you are fatigued with the travel of the day, or havewandered from your path and are benighted in your journey, enter theirmansion. The accommodations are large, and they are all free for the useof the poor, the necessitous, the unfortunate and the miserable. "

Edwin listened with astonishment to the narration. He was not used tothe address of falshood; and strongly warned as he had previously beenof the iniquity of the train, the ingenuousness of his mind induced himat first without reflection to yield an easy credit to the story thatwas told him. It was related with fluency, plausibility, and gravity;and it was accompanied with a manner seemingly artless and humane, whichit was scarcely possible for one unhackneyed in the stratagems of deceitto distrust and contradict. 

"Surely, " replied Edwin, "I cannot be wholly mistaken. At least hasthere not a young shepherdess just arrived here, tall, tender andbeautiful, and whose flaxen tresses are more bright than gold, and moreabundant than the blossoms in the spring?"

Before the officious domestic could reply to his enquiries, two of thenymphs, who had been attired for the feast of Imogen, came into theouter apartment in which the shepherd was, and advanced toward him. "These are my mistresses, " cried the attendant. Edwin approached themwith respect, and repeated his former enquiries. They were the mostbeautiful of the train of Roderic. They were clad in garments of thewhitest silk, and profusely adorned with chaplets of flowers. Theirappearance therefore was calculated to give them, in a shepherd's eye, an air of sweetness and simplicity that could not easily be resisted. 

One of them was tall and majestic, and the other low, and of a shape andfigure the most alluring. This appeared to be like a blossom in May, whose colours discovered to the attentive observer all theirattractions, without being expanded to the careless eye: And that mightbe supposed to be a few summers farther advanced to a deliciousmaturity. The majesty of the one had nothing in it of the gross, theindelicate, and the forbidding; and the softness of the other wasattempered with inexpressible propriety and grace. Both of them weregentle and affable. But the affability of the former took the name ofbenignity and condescension, and the affability of the latter was fullof harmless gaiety, and a cheerful and unpretending spirit of society. 

"We cannot, " replied the elder, "attend to your enquiries here. Theapartment is comfortless and inhospitable. You appear fatigued. And wepretend not, young stranger, merely to contribute what is in our powerto relieve the uneasiness of your mind, we would also refresh yourwearied frame. Come in then, and we will afford you every satisfactionwe are able. Enter the mansion, and partake of the plenty the Gods havebestowed upon us, and which we desire not to engross to ourselves. "During these words Edwin surveyed his fair entertainers with wonder andadmiration. But enchanting as they were, they found not the avenue tohis heart. There Imogen reigned alone, and could not admit of a rival. Even though upon a slighter occasion, and at less important moment, thepurity of his mind, that virtue so much esteemed among the swains, couldhave been tainted, yet now that his undertaking whispered him, "Imogenalone is fair!" now that he feared for her safety, and hoped everymoment to arrive at the dreaded, pleasing period of his anxiety, hecould but be constant and be faithful. He recollected the sageinstructions of the Druid of Elwy: and his resolutions were unshaken asthe roots of Snowdon. 

He accepted their invitation. Immediately, as upon a signal, an hundredflambeaux lighted the area and lined the passage to the saloon ofpleasure. The nymphs placed themselves on each side of the shepherd, andin this manner they passed along. If Imogen had been struck with theprofuseness of the illumination, the richness of the plate, thesumptuousness of the viands and the wines, and the fragrant clouds ofincense that filled the apartment, how much more were they calculated toastonish the soul of Edwin! He had comparatively passed through noprevious scenes; he had not been led on step by step; and thevoluptuousness of the objects that now presented themselves before himhad been unknown and unexpected. The train of the subordinate attendantsof the magician filled the apartment with beauty and with grace, andseemed to pay the most unreserved obedience to the nymphs that at firstaddressed him. 

But before the shepherd had time to examine the objects that surroundedhim, the musicians awaked their instruments, and all his faculties wereengrossed with soft melody and enchanting sounds. The instrumentalperformance was illustrated and completed with a multitude of harmoniousvoices, and those who sang were each of them of the softer sex. 

"What are the possessions most eagerly courted among mankind? Which arethe divinities by mortals most assiduously adored? This goodly universewas intended for the seat of pleasure, unmixed pleasure. But a sportive, malicious divinity sent among men a gaudy phantom, an empty bubble, andcalled the shadow Honour. In pursuit of a fancied distinction and asounding name, the children of the earth have deserted all that is blandand all that is delicious. Labour, naked, deformed, and offensive, theywillingly embrace. They brave hardship and severity. They laugh atdanger. From hence they derive the virtue of resolution, the merit ofself-denial, and the excellence of mortification. 

"But heaven did not open wide its hand, and scatter delight throughevery corner of the universe, without intending that they should beenjoyed. Enjoyment, indulgence, and felicity are not crimes. Abstinence, self-denial and mortification have only a specious mien and a fictitiousmerit. Did all mankind obey their fallacious dictates, the unlimitedbounties of nature would become a burden to the earth, and fill it withpestilence and contagion. The soil would be oppressed with her ownfertility; the herds would overmultitude their lords; and the croudedair would be darkened with the plumes of its numerous inhabitants. Thevery gems that now lie buried in the bosom of the ocean, would thenbespangle its surface, and the dumb tenants of the watery tracts, inuredto their blaze, would learn to leave the caverns of the sea and gazeupon the sun. 

"Mortals, open your hearts to the divinity of pleasure! Why should he bein love with labour, who has a capacious hoard of choice delights withinhis reach? Why should we fly from a present good that we possess, to afuture that we do not comprehend? Is this the praise we owe thebounteous Gods? Can neglect and indifference to their gifts begratitude? This were to serve them like a timorous and trembling slavebeneath the eye of an austere and capricious tyrant; and not with thatgenerosity, that enthusiasm, that liberal self-confidence, which areworthy of a father, a patron and a friend. 

"Ye that are wise, ye that are favoured of propitious heaven, drink deepof the cup of pleasure. The sun has now withdrawn his splendid lustre, and his flaring beams. The period of exercise is past, and the lids ofprying curiosity is [are] closed. Night is the season of feast and theseason of gaiety. In the graver hours of activity and industry, sobrietymay be proper. It may then be fit to listen to the dictates of prudence, and pay some attention to the prejudices of mankind. The sternness ofage and the austerity of censoriousness are now silent. Now pleasurewears a freer garb; and the manners of enjoyment are more frank andunrestrained. The thinness of indiscretion and the airy forms ofinadvertence are lost and annihilated amid the shadows of the night. 

"Now the numerous inhabitants of the waters come forth from their oozybeds and play and flounce in the beams of the moon. Round the luminaryof the night the stars lead up the mystic dance, and compose the musicof the spheres. The deities of the woods and the deities of the riverscome out from their secret haunts, and keep their pastimesunapprehensive of human intrusion. The elves and the fairies repair totheir sports, and trip along the velvet green with many-twinkling feet. Let us imitate their amiable alacrity and their cheerful amusements. 

"What has sleep to do with the secrecy and silence of the night? It isthe hour of pleasure unrestrained and free. It is the hour in which theempire of beauty is complete, and those mysteries are disclosed whichthe profaner eye of day must never behold. Ye that are wise, ye that arefavoured of propitious heaven, drink deep of the cup of pleasure! Thefestive board is spread before you; the flowing bowl is proffered foryour acceptance. Beauty, the crown of enjoyment, the last perfection ofsociety, is within your reach. Be wise and taste. Partake of themunificence the Gods vouchsafe. "

As the song proceeded the two nymphs, who had first appeared to Edwin, and since attended him with the extremest officiousness, endeavoured byevery artful blandishment to engage his attention, and rivet hispartiality. They exerted themselves to suppress the grossness, inelegance and sensuality to which they had commonly been habituated, and to cover the looseness of the passions with the veil of simplicity, delicacy, and softness. As the music ceased, the master of the spectaclecame forth from his retreat. But his figure was no longer that whichbespoke the magician, and which Edwin had already seen. He appeared inthe form of a youth of that age in which the frolic insignificance ofchildhood gives place to the eagerness, the enthusiasm and the engagingmanners of blooming manhood. His habit was that of a cupbearer. Hisrobes were of azure silk, and floated in graceful folds as he passedalong. The beauty of his person was worthy of the synod of the Gods. Hisfeatures had all the softness of woman without effeminacy; and in hiseye there sat a lambent fire which bespoke the man, without roughness, and without ferocity. In one hand he bore a crystal goblet full of everypotent enchantment, and which rendered him who drank for ever a slave tothe most menial offices and the most wanton caprices of his seducer. Inthe other hand he held loosely, and as if it had been intended merely togive a completeness to his figure and a gracefulness to his step, thatirresistible wand by which the majesty of man had often been degraded, and the reluctant spirit had been conjured up from the caverns of theabyss. The goblet he delivered to the elder nymph, who presented it, with inimitable grace and a bewitching condescension, to the gallantshepherd. 

Edwin had the fortitude of a hero, but he had also the feelings of aman. He could not but be struck with the beauty of the nymphs, he couldnot but be surprised with the profuseness of the entertainment, and therichness of the preparations. The soul of Edwin was full of harmony. Ithad been one of his earliest and most ruling passions. No shepherdexcelled him in the skill of the pipe, no shepherd with a sweeter ormore sonorous voice could carol the rustic lay. Even the figure assumedby Roderic, his garb, his step, his gesture had something in them ofangelic and celestial without the blaze of divinity, and without theawfulness that surrounds the godlike existencies, that sometimescondescend to visit this sublunary scene. The shepherd took into hishand the fatal bowl. 

In the midst however of all that was attractive, and all that wasunknown, Edwin had not forgotten the business that had brought himhither and the lessons of Madoc. The visage of Imogen, ever present tohis soul, suggested these salutary reflections. By her assistance hestrengthened all his resolutions, and gave vigour to the heroism of hismind. Through the memory of Imogen he derived a body, and communicated avisible form to the precepts of rectitude; and virtue wore all thosecharms that had the most uncontroled empire in his bosom. Half way tohis lips he raised the cup of vice, and inexorable fate sat smiling onthe brim. He paused; he hesitated. By an irresistible impulse ofgoodness he withdrew the fatal draught. He shed the noxious compositionupon the ground, and hurled from him with indignation the vessel inwhich it had been contained. 

Roderic beheld the scene with deep emotion, and was agitated by turnswith a thousand passions. He saw the issue with confusion, despondenceand fury. The roseat smiles of the cupbearer vanished; and, without thenotice and consent of his mind, his limbs resumed their wonted form, andhis features confirmed the suspicions of the shepherd, that he was nowconfronted with his mortal enemy. Thrice the magician invoked the spiritof his mother, and thrice he conjured the goblins, the most potent thatever mix in the mortal scene. He lifted the wand in his hand. It was thefiery ordeal that summons human character to the severest trial. It wasthe _judgment of God_ in which the lots are devoutly committed tothe disposal of heaven, and the enthroned Divinity, guided by hisomniscience of the innocence of the brave, or the guilt of thepresumptuous, points the barbed spear, and gives a triple edge to theshining steel. If the shepherd had one base and earth-born particle inhis frame, if his soul confessed one sordid and sensual desire, now wasthe time in which for his prospects to be annihilated and his reputationblotted for ever, and the state and empire of his rival to be fixedbeyond the power of human machinations to shake or subvert it. "Presumptuous swain!" cried the sorcerer, "what folly, what unmeaningrashness has brought you within the circle of my incantations? Know thatfrom them no mortal has escaped; that by them every swain, whomadventurousness, ignorance, or stratagem has introduced within theselimits, has been impelled to assume the savage form, and to herd withthe most detestable of brutes. Let then thy foolhardiness pay thepenalty which my voice has ever annexed to it. Hence to thy fellows! Go, and let their hated form bely the reason thou shalt still retain, andthy own voice affright thee, when thou shalt groan under irremediablemisery!"

The incantation that had never yet failed of its hated purpose waspronounced in vain. Edwin had heard it unappalled. He wore the amulet ofMadoc. He opposed to it the unconquered shield of spotless innocence. Even in the midst of the lordly despotism and the imperious haughtinessof his rival, he had been conscious to the triumph which nothing but thecalmness of fortitude and the serenity of virtue can inspire. He wasmindful of the precepts of the Druid. While Roderic was overwhelmed withdisappointment and despair, he seized the wand of the magician, and withirresistible vigour wrenched it from his hand. He struck it withviolence upon the ground, and it burst into a thousand shivers. Thecastle rocked over his head. Those caverns, which for revolving yearshad served to hide the iniquity and the cruelty of their possessor, disclosed their secret horrors. The whole stupendous pile seemed rushingto the ground. A flood of lightning streamed across the scene. A peal ofthunder, deafening and tremendous, followed it. All now was vacancy. Nota trace of those costly scenes and that magnificent architectureremained. The heaven over-canopied the head of Edwin. The clouds weredissipated. The light of innumerable stars gave grandeur to the scene. And the silver moon communicated a milder lustre, and created a softershade. Roderic and his train, full of pusillanimity and consternation, had fled from the direful scene, and vanished like shadows at the risingof the sun. 

No mortal, but our lovers, had ever entered the enchanted mansionwithout having their characters disgraced, and their hearts throngedwith all those hateful and dissolute passions, which distinguished theband of Roderic. No mortal was there, but our lovers, of the numerousinhabitants of this bad edifice, who had not shrunk from the earthquakeand the solemnities that accompanied its sub-version. Edwin and Imogenwere alone. The shepherdess had listened to all the horrors of the scenewith a gloomy kind of satisfaction. "What new wonders, " cried she, "arenow to be disclosed? What purpose are they intended to answer! Theamendment, or the destruction of my betrayer? But it is well. Though theelements mix in inextricable confusion, though the earth be destroyed, yet has innocence no cause to fear. Alas, though I myself should beburied in the ruin, why should I apprehend, or why lament it? I washappy; untaintedly, uninterruptedly happy. But I am miserable. I amconfined here in a loathsome, detested prison. Even my conduct is shutup with difficulties, and my bosom disquieted with the conflict ofseeming duties. Even Edwin, the swain to whom my heart was united, andfrom whose memory my integrity derived new strength is corrupted, depraved and base. Let then destruction come. I will not lament thebeing cut off in the bloom of youth. I will not shed one tear, or feelone fond regret, but for the calamity and disappointment of my parents. "

But however the despair of Imogen armed her courage against theconcussions of nature, she yet felt that delicacy of constitution whichcharacterises the most lovely of her sex, and that amiable timiditywhich often accompanies the most invincible fortitude. When the thunderroared with so fearful violence, when the mansion burst in ruins overher head, she stood, trembling and breathless, at the tumult around her. Her safety was the first object of the attention of Edwin; and when sherecovered her recollection she found herself in the arms of her lover. "_My fair one, my Imogen_, " cried he, "have I recovered you throughso many obstacles, and in the midst of so numerous dangers? Oh, how mustour affection, the purest, brightest, that ever lighted a human breast, be endeared by our mutual calamities! But virtue is ever triumphant, virtue is never deserted of the watchful care of heaven. My trials, mylovely shepherdess, have been feeble indeed, when compared with yours. Your integrity is unrivalled, and your innocence has surpassed all thatthe bards have sung in their immortal lays. Come then, oh, dearer, fardearer than ever to this constant heart, come to my arms! Let delay bebanished. Let the veil of virgin bashfulness be laid aside. And let usrepair together to the presence of your parents to ask an unitedblessing. "

While Edwin thus poured forth the raptures of his heart, Imogen turnedtowards him a languid eye, full of soft and silent reproach. She retiredfrom him with involuntary horror. "No, shepherd, " cried she, and wavedher hand with graceful indignation. "Like you I approve the justice ofthe Gods in the banishment of Roderic. But I think that justice wouldhave been more complete, had it included in its vindictive appearancethe punishment of the base, degenerate Edwin. Unworthy Edwin, to howvile and earth born sentiments has your heart been conscious! But go. Hence from my sight! The very spectacle of that form which I had learnedto love is mildew and contagion to my eyes. Oh, Edwin, for your sake Iwill distrust every attractive form and every ingenuous appearance. Theseparation, my swain, is hard. The arts of Roderic came not near mysoul, but your baseness has fixed an indelible wound. But thinknot--cherish not the fond mistake--that I will ever forget yourungenerousness in the hour of my distress and forlornness, or receivethat serpent to my heart again. "

As she pronounced these words, she hastened to fly from her imaginaryenemy. Edwin detained her by a gentle violence. With much intreaty and athousand soft blandishments, he wrung from her the story of herindignation. He related to her the tale of Madoc, and told her of themagic arts of his rival. He fully explained the scene of the pretendedrepentance of Roderic, and the seduction he had attempted to practiseunder the form of Edwin. As she listened to the wondrous story, Imogentrembled at the unknown dangers with which she had been environed, andadmired more than ever the omnipotence of that virtue which had beenable to lead her safely through them all. The conviction she received ofthe rectitude and fidelity of Edwin was to her, like the calm breath ofzephyr, which succeeds the tremendous storm upon the surface of theocean; and like that sovereign balm, which the sage Druids pour into thewounds of the shepherd, and restore him at once to salubrity and vigour. The amiable pair repaired with speed, and arrived with the dawn of thesun to the cottage of Imogen. At the sight of them the venerable Edithreared her drooping, desponding head, and the cheeks of the hoary fatherwere bedewed with the tears of transport. Such were the trials of ourlovers, and of correspondent worth was the reward they received. Longdid they dwell together in the vale of Clwyd, with that simplicity andattachment which no scenes but those of pastoral life can know. Theirhappiness was more sensible than that of the swains around them in thatthey had known a reverse of fortune. And their virtue was the purer andthe more benevolent, in that they had passed through the fields oftrial; and that only through the ordeal of temptation, and an approvedfortitude, they had arrived to the unmixed felicity, and theuninterrupted enjoyment they at length possessed.