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But will they sleep? Ah, never! Yet be mine,
« Ob, mem'ry, cease! and let me live alone,
Ah no! how false the thought ! how vain the sigh!
“ This letter conveyed to Lorenzo the certainty of Maria's consenting to fly with him: the means were soon concerted, and they fled. She renounced the Catholic faith, and they were married by the priest of his regiment. Misery is sure to follow such an error. In a skirmish with the troops of France, Lorenzo was killed, and his bride became a prisoner. In the confusion of a night march, she again made her escape, and in crossing the little stream by whose side her lover had fallen, fatigue and despair overcame her, and she
sunk into the waters, that kindly bore her last remains to the spot where Lorenzo had died. In the morning they were found by the peasants, and they now lay side by side in the same grave; where some kind soul, forgetting their errors, and pitying their sorrows, has placed over them a wooden cross, with these words:
• From hope, fear, joy, and pain, here rest at last !
The dream that blest ye for an hour is flown : Life, love, and youth, with all their sweets, are past,
But with their sweets their sorrows too are gone."
CHAP. CHAPTER X.
It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden,
Ir is as dull a road as ever was travelled, from Lisle to St. Quentin-all flat and uninteresting; it offers scarcely one object to call the mind of the stranger away from the preoccupying subject of his thoughts, which he may indulge to the full without any chance of interruption, except from some of the accidents that will at times occur in every journey; and indeed, there are times when some casual difficulty or slight mishap would prove a relief to the tedium of the hours: but nothing of any kind whatever happened to dispel the monotony of Mr. Melville's onward course. Mr. Wilmot was in one of his most silent moods, and remained buried in thought the whole way, while Charles a thousand times wished that a strap would come undone, or wheel come off, or any thing, in short, to break the one sensation of shaking onwards, which the paved, flat roads of Flanders inflict upon the traveller. But no such thing happened; all was disagreeably right, and dully regular, till their arrival at St. Quentin, where Mr. Wilmot roused himself to put Charles in mind of the battle gained there by the duke of Savoy and count Egmont, adding some curious particulars respecting the conduct of Philip.