BISHOP BRUNO. BISHOP Bruno awoke in the dead midnight, And he heard his heart beat loud with affright: He dreamt he had rung the palace-bell, Bishop Bruno smiled at his fears so vain, He started up at the fearful dream, Bishop Bruno slept no more that night,— Now he goes forth in proud array, Before and behind his soldiers ride, So he went on stately and proud, But I would have you know, you travel to me! Behind and before and on either side, And when he rung at the palace-bell, He almost expected to hear his knell; And when the porter turn'd the key, He almost expected Death to see. But soon the Bishop recover'd his glee, For the Emperor welcom'd him royally; And now the tables were spread, and there Were choicest wines and dainty fare. And now the Bishop had blest the meat, When a voice was heard as he sat in his seat, With the Emperor now you are dining in glee, The Bishop then grew pale with affright, Could not comfort his heart so sick with fear. But by little and little recovered he, When he sat down to the royal fare Bishop Bruno was the saddest man there; But when the masquers enter'd the hall, He was the merriest man of all. Then from amid the masquers' crowd There went a voice hollow and loud,— You have past the day, Bishop Bruno, in glee! But you must pass the night with me! His cheek grows pale, and his eye-balls glare, And stiff round his tonsure bristles his hair; With that there came one from the masquers' band And took the Bishop by the hand. The bony hand suspended his breath, A TRUE BALLAD OF ST. ANTIDIUS, THE POPE, AND THE DEVIL. Ir is Antidius the Bishop The Devil had business that evening, He had his books to settle, His imps came flying around him, There came a devil posting in Seven years, quoth he, of trouble and toil All in robes of russet gray, Poorly were they dight; Each one girdled with a cord, Like a friar minorite. But from those robes of russet grey, Brighter than their brethren, Among the beautiful band, Five there were, who each did bear A palm-branch in his hand. He who led the brethren, A living man was he; And yet he shone the brightest Of all the company. Before the steps of the altar, Each one bow'd his head; And then with solemn voice they sung The service of the dead. And who are ye, ye blessed saints? These are the souls of our brethren in bliss, And this is our father Francisco, We are come hither to perform Go thou to King Alfonso, And say what thou hast seen. There was loud knocking at the door, A BALLAD, SHEWING HOW AN OLD WOMAN RODE DOUBLE, AND WHO RODE BEFORE HER. A. D. 852. Circa dies istos, mulier quaedam malefica, in villa quae Berkeleia dicitur degens, gulae amatrix ac petulantiae, flagitiis modum usque in senium et auguriis non ponens, usque ad mortem impudica permansit. Hæc die quadam cum sederet at prandium, cornicula quam pro deliciis pascebat nescio quid garrire cœpit, quo audito, mulieris cultellus de manu excidit, simul et facies pallescere coepit, et emisso rugitu, hodie, inquit, accipiam grande incommodum, hodieque ad sulcum ultimum meum pervenit aratrum. Quo dicto, nuncius doloris intravit; muliere vero percunctata ad quid veniret, affero, inquit, tibi filii tui obitum et totius familiæ ejus ex subità ruina interitum. Hoc quoque dolore mulier per: mota, lecto protinus decubuit graviter infirmata; sentiensque morbum subrepere ad vitalia, liberos quos habuit superstites, monachum videlice monacham, per epistolam invitavit; advenes autem voce singultiente alloquitur. Ega, im o pueri, meo miserabili fato daemoniacis m artibus inservivi; ego omnium vitiorum sent ego illecebrarum omnium fui magistra. is tamen mihi inter hæc mala spes vestre This nis, quæ meam solidaret animam desperatam expectabam propugnatores contra damers tores contra saevissimos hostes. NUR & quoniam ad finem vitæ perveni, rogo To materna ubera, ut mea tentatis alleviare a menta. Insuite me defunctam in corio cera ac deinde in sarcophago lapideo supponite, « culumque ferro et plumbo constringite, ac lapidem tribus catenis ferreis et fortissima ( cumdantes, clericos quinquaginta psalmereno tores, et tot per tres dies presbyteros misern celebratores applicate, qui feroces lenige:& versariorum incursus. Ita si tribus noctibes cura jacuero, quarta die me infodite hume. Fa tumque est ut præceperat illis. Sed, proh dzir nil preces, nil lacrymæ, nil demum valuere o tenae. Primis enim duabus noctibus, can cor psallentium corpori assistebant, advenien Daemones ostium ecclesiæ confregerant ing obice clausum, extremasque catenas neg" levi dirumpunt; media autem quæ fortior es illibata manebat. Tertia autem nocte, cires a licinium, strepitu hostium adventantion, on monasterium visum est a fundamento me Unus ergo dæmonum, et vultu cæteris terri et statura eminentior, januas Ecclesia jay violento concussas in fragmenta dejecit. Diver runt clerici cum laicis, metu steterunt om capilli, et psalmorum concentus defecit. Dza ergo gestu ut videbatur arroganti ad sepulch accedens, et nomen mulieris modicum ingenin surgere imperavit. Qua respondente, quod r quiret pro vinculis, jam malo tuo, inquit, s ris ; et protinus catenam quæ cæterorua i” ciam daemonum deluserat, velut stuppern culum rumpebat. Operculum etiam sept pede depellens, mulierem palam omnibus ab m clesia extraxit, ubi præ foribus niger egun e perbe hinniens videbatur, uncis ferreis etter undique confixus, super quem misera mulier jecta, ab oculis assistentium evanuit. Audi tur tamen clamores per quatuor fere ma horribiles, auxilium postulantes. Ista itaque retuli incredibila non erunt, si legatur Gregorii dialogus, in quo refert, hominem in clesia sepultum a dæmonibus foras ejectus apud Francos Carolus Martellus, insignis vir tudinis, qui Saracenos Galliam ingresso N paniam redire compulit, exactis vitæ suæ deb in Ecclesia beati Dionysii legitur fuisse s tus. Sed quia patrimonia, cum decimis m fere ecclesiarum Galliæ, pro stipendio coms tonum suorum mutilaverat, miserabiliter a m lignis spiritibus de sepulchro corporaliter w sus, usque in hodiernum diem nusquam esa paru MATHEUS WESTE THE Raven croaked as she sate at her as And the Old Woman knew what he And she grew pale at the Raven's tale, And sicken'd and went to her bed. Now fetch me my children, and fetch the with speed. The Old Woman of Berkeley said, The monk my son, and my daughter the su Bid them hasten or I shall be dead. The monk her son, and her daughter the =The Old Woman shrlek'd as they enter'd her | The Old Woman of Berkeley laid her down, door, Away they sent the sacrament, The fit it left her weak, And her eyes grew deadly dim, Short came her breath and the struggle of death Did loosen every limb. They blest the old woman's winding sheet With holy water they sprinkled her shroud, And they chain'd her in her coffin of stone, She look'd at her children with ghastly eyes, And in the church with three strong chains And faintly struggled to speak. All kinds of sin I have rioted in, And the judgment now must be, But I secured my children's souls, Oh, pray, my children, for me! I have suck'd the breath of sleeping babes, I have 'nointed myself with infants' fat, And the Devil will fetch me now in fire, Bless, I entreat, my winding sheet, And with holy water sprinkle my shroud, And let me be chain'd in my coffin of stone, And bless the chains and sprinkle them, And let fifty priests stand round, Who night and day the mass may say, Where I lie on the ground. And see that fifty choristers Beside the bier attend me, And day and night by the taper's light With holy hymns defend me. Let the church-bells all both great and small, Be toll'd by night and day, To drive from thence the fiends who come To bear my body away. And ever have the church-door barr'd After the even-song; Let the bars and bolts be strong. And let this be three days and nights My wretched corpse to save, Keep me so long from the fiendish throng, And then I may rest in my grave. They chain'd it to the ground. And they blest the chains and sprinkled them, And fifty sacred choristers Beside the bier attend her Who day and night by the taper's light Should with holy hymns defend her. To see the priests and choristers A taper burning bright. And the church-bells all both great and small, Did toll so loud and long, And they have barr'd the church-door hard, After the even-song. And the first night the tapers' light A hideous roar at the church-door And the priests they pray'd, and the choristers sung Louder in fearful zeal. Loud toll'd the bell, the priests pray'd well, The cock he crew, the fiends they flew The second night the tapers' light And every one saw his neighbour's face |