I'll not shoot with it! (Throws it away.) Let me see my quiver. Bring it! 't is not one arrow in a dozen I'd take to shoot with at a dove, much less A dove like that! — What is 't you fear? I'm but A naked man, a wretched naked man! Your helpless thrall, alone in the midst of you, With every one of you a weapon in His hand. What can I do in such a strait With all the arrows in that quiver? - Come, Will you give it me or not? Ges. It matters not. Show him the quiver. (Tell kneels and picks out an arrow, then secretes one in his vest.) Tell. See if the boy is ready. Ver. He is. Tell. I'm ready, too! - Keep silence, for (To the people.) Heaven's sake! and do not stir, and let me have That if his life 's in peril from my hand, 'Tis only for the chance of saving it. Now, friends, for mercy's sake, keep motionless (Tell shoots; and a shout of exultation bursts from the crowd.) Ver. (Rushing in with Albert.) Thy boy is safe; no hair of him is touched! Alb. Father, I'm safe! - your Albert's safe! Dear father, Speak to me! speak to me ! Ver. He cannot, boy! Open his vest, and give him air. (Albert opens his father's vest, and an arrow drops; Tell starts, fixes his eyes on Albert, and clasps him to his breast.) Tell. My boy! my boy! Ges. For what Hid you that arrow in your breast? Speak, slave! Liberty Would, at thy downfall, shout from every peak! CHAPTER XLIX. A PSALM OF NIGHT. 1. FADES from the west the farewell light, On spiring grass and floweret stems Is radiant with a thousand gems! 2. Not only doth the voiceful day Thy loving-kindness, Lord, proclaim — Before Thee bend the willing knee, From every star a choral hymn Goes up unceasingly to Thee! 3. Day unto day doth utter speech, And night to night thy voice makes known; And worlds, beyond the farthest star 4. O, Holy Father! 'mid the calm And stillness of this evening hour, Thy tender mercies still extend; On thee, our Father and our Friend! Thy love to guard us evermore! In darkness, guide — in sickness, cheer— CHAPTER L. BABYLON. 1. I CLIMBED the cliff-I crossed the rock I trod the deserts old I passed the wild Arabian tents, Stretched into distant gray, When spread before me, lone and wide, The boundless plain of far Linjar, Where, long, long ages back, And wrote their mystic track. 5. O! glorious were her palaces, And busy life was in her streets, Where countless nations thronged, Light footsteps glided through her homes, But prophet voices murmuréd, Even in her festal halls, And angel-fingers wrote her doom Upon the palace walls. 6. At midnight came the Persian, Mingling amid the crowd; 1. THE villa of Prince Batera, about a mile from Palermo, is one of the loveliest spots I ever saw. The garden is laid out on the English plan; the walks are adorned with statues and groups of statuary, fountains, grottos, &c. 2. One fountain is adorned with a group of figures in white marble, representing a rural scene. Pan, the god of shepherds and of rustics, sits in the midst upon a stump; a child is milking a goat, and catching the milk in a goblet, while around stand boys and girls drinking. 3. The nursery in this garden contains some choice plants. The coffee plant is here seen growing luxuriantly; the hot-house plants of England here grow in the open air. This princely residence is occupied only by strangers, who hire it, with its grounds, by the year or six months. 4. We found more amusement at the villa of Serra di Falco. We entered the garden by an archway passing under the palace. On walking through the paths, we soon found ourselves in a maze so intricate, that the more we tried to find our way back, the more lost did we become. 5. The keeper of the garden had purposely led us there, |