Hard nature, hard condition of poor woman,

That where we are most sued to, we must fly most!
The trees grow up, and mix together freely :
The oak not envious of the sailing cedar,
The lusty vine not jealous of the ivy

Because she clips the elm; the flowers shoot up
And wantonly kiss one another hourly,
This blossom glorying in the other's beauty,
And yet they smell as sweet and look as lovely.
But we are tied to grow alone-oh! honour,
Thou hard law to our lives, chains to our freedom,
He that invented thee had many curses!
How is my soul divided: oh! Cleander,
My best deserving husband: oh! Lysander,
The truest lover that e'er sacrificed

To Cupid against Hymen: oh! mine honour,
A tyrant, yet to be obeyed.

"From that evening his debility increased so greatly as to prevent his quitting his chamber, and his kind friends, who did not imagine that so rapid a decline could be mortal, endeavoured by every soothing attention to cheer and enliven him, passing most of the day by his bedside. At times he would feel a transient glow of pleasure, and the flush on his cheek and a languid smile brightening his eyes persuaded them of his recovery. My dear Sylvanus, said Monsieur Roseville one day, looking at him earnestly yet kindly, I cannot resist the conviction, but that some hidden cause operates with your disorder to effect this fearful and sudden change, for when we first arrived in this place, your health seemed much benefitted.' The youth

made no reply, except by the sudden rushing of blood from his heart to his cheeks and thence returning amid sighs that amounted almost to groans. "Is this kind

or right, my friend, continued Monsieur Roseville, to deny me your confidence and perhaps the power of assisting you."

Thus urged, and perhaps conscious that the struggle could not long endure, Sylvanus taking him by the hand answered, "Full well I know, my kind friend, your generosity and friendship, but alas! such is the nature of my confession, that I rather fear you should cast me from you as an ungrateful and unworthy wretch, than afford me either relief or pity-yet meant I not ill to you, although I have not refrained from loving your wife-Yes, such is my hopeless secret, such the mingled delight and pain that robs me of life-since I cannot cease to pine for excellence which cruel laws have denied my ever possessing." Thus said, the sick youth drooped his head, overcome with bitter sorrow, whilst Monsieur Roseville walked the room much agitated, as now custom and the sacredness of wedded love revolted his feelings, and anon his artless friend dying of hopeless, unrequited passion, consuming away his youth, arose to his mind-his fortune, his time, his utmost interest, he would freely have bestowed upon Sylvanus, this only blessing, which alone could cure his sick friend, he hesitated to share with him-that which in Sparta was considered mere hospitality, sometimes a favor gained, was now from custom consecrated into a sentiment which delicacy and honor equally forbade the violation. Again, when he remembered how few similarly situated would have acted with the forbearance, generosity,

H

and candour of this youth; when he considered his talents and amiability, and viewed his ingenuous but languid countenance flushed with a hectic which announced a swift decay, selfishness became extinct in his bosom, and in a fit of generous enthusiasm he exclaimed, regarding his wife and friend affectionately, "I see it all, and how impossible it was for two such excellencies not to love each other-and shall I then be the selfish mortal to divide two such hearts, or deny them the fulness of their love?—No, Sylvanus, live, be well-Florence is rich in love, and has a heart capable of entertaining us both-she will not appreciate me less for my generosity, and my friend I bind for life. Speak to him, Florence, assure him of comfort, and entreat him to recover for both our sakes." Sylvanus looked up, his face betraying a mixed expression of joy, wildness, and incredulity; but seeing Florence approach him, he threw his arms rapturously around her, straining her vehemently to his heart, pressing a long burning kiss upon her lips, which ending in a deep sigh, his hold slackened, and his head dropped upon her bosom lifeless.

"By my faith" exclaimed the hearty Dorilaus, "but here have been two sad tales told together-in this latter one particularly, it seems difficult to determine whether love for his friend's wife, or inherent consumption, had the greatest share in the catastrophebe that however as it may, I am determined we will have no more melancholy for the present, and to prove

to you that love has not always such fatal terminations, and may be directed to divers and more substantial objects than youth and beauty, I will relate the Adventures of a Yorkshire Knight and his Daughter during their travels in search of accomplishments and taste-always however with the consent of our sovereign lady the Queen."

TALE IV.

THE YORKSHIRE KNIGHT.

The state of a fat turkey, the decorum

He marches in with, all the train and circumstances,
'Tis such a matter, such a glorious matter!

And then his sauce with oranges and onions,
And he displayed in all parts! for such a dish now,
And at my need, I would betray my father,

And, for a roasted congor, all my country.

Oh then, goddess of plenty!

Fill me this day with some rare delicates.

He is none of these same ordinary eaters, that will devour three breakfasts and as many dinners without any prejudice to their bevers, drinkings, or suppers; but he hath a more courtly kind of hunger, and doth hunt more after novelty than hunger.

May it please your Grace to take note of a Gentleman well read, deeply learned, and thoroughly grounded in the hidden knowledge of all sallads and pot herbs whatsoever.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

THE whole establishment of the Hotel de Londres, Rue de l'Ecu, Boulogne sur Mer, were drawn forth in the court yard, in as anxious expectation as French people can feel, expecting the arrival of an English Milor; the report of whose avant courier had just excited this anxiety and expectation.