might stand before
the knight victorious! It was the day--the hour--the time. Her mother
sate by her wheel at the hearth. The page waited in the hall. She came
down in her loveliness into the old oak room, and stood before the
mirrored glass. Her robe was of woven velvet, rich, and glossy, and soft;
jewels shone like stars in the midnight of her raven hair, and on her
hand there gleamed, afar off, a bright and glorious ring! She {226}
stood--she gazed upon her own countenance and form, and worshipped!
"Now all good angels succour thee, dear Alice, and bend Sir Bevil's
soul! Fain am I to see thee a wedded wife, before I die! I yearn to hold
thy children on my knee! Often shall I pray to-night that the Granville
heart may yield! Thy victory shall be my prayer!"
"Prayer!" was the haughty answer; "with the eyes that I see in that glass,
and this vesture meet for a queen, I lack no doubting prayer!"
Saint Mary shield us! Ah words of evil soul! There was a shriek--a
sob--a cry: and where was Alice of the Lea? Vanished--gone. They had
heard wild tones of sudden music in the air. There was a rush--a beam
of light--and she was gone, and that for ever! East sought they her, and
west, in northern paths and south; but she was never more seen in the
lands. Her mother wept till she had not a tear left; none sought to
comfort her, for it was vain. Moons waxed and waned, and the crones
by the cottage-hearth had whiled away many a shadowy night with
tales of Alice of the Lea.
But, at the last, as the gardener in the Pleasance leaned one day on his
spade, he saw among the roses a small round hillock of earth, such as
he had never seen before, and upon it something which shone. It was
her ring! It was the very jewel she had worn the day she vanished out of
sight! They looked earnestly upon it, and they saw within the border
(for it was wide) the tracery of certain small fine letters in the ancient
Cornish tongue, which said,--
"Beryan Erde, Oyn und Perde!"
Then came the priest of the Place of Morwenna, a gray and silent man!
He had served long years at a lonely altar, a bent and solitary form. But
he had been wise in the language of his youth, and he read the legend
thus--
"The earth must hide Both eyes and pride!"
Now, as he uttered these words, they stood in the Pleasance by the
mound; and on a sudden there was a low faint cry! They beheld, and O
wondrous and strange! there was a small dark creature, clothed in a soft
velvet skin, in texture and in hue like the Lady Alice her robe; and they
saw, as it went into the earth, that it moved along without eyes, in
everlasting night. Then the ancient priest wept, for he called to mind all
these things, and saw what they meant; and he showed them how this
was the maiden, who had been visited with doom for her pride.
Therefore her rich array had been changed into the skin of a creeping
thing and her large proud eyes were sealed up; and she herself had
become
The first mole! Of the hillocks of Cornwall!
Ah! woe is me! and well-a-day! that damsel so stately and fair, sweet
Lady Alice of the Lea, should be made for a judgement--the dark
mother of the moles!
Now take ye good heed, Cornish maidens, how ye put on vain apparel,
to win love. And cast down your eyes, all ye damsels of the west, and
look ye meekly on the ground! Be ye good and gentle, tender and true;
and when ye see your image in the glass, and begin to be lifted up with
the beauty of that shadowy thing, call to mind the maiden of Morwenna,
her noble eyes and comely countenance, the vesture of price and the
glittering ring. Sit ye by the wheel, as of old they sate and as ye draw
the lengthening wool, sing ye ever-more and say,
"Beryan Erde, Oyn and Perde!"
* * * * *
"A whistling Wife" &c.--I can supply another version of the couplet
quoted in "Folk Lore" (Vol. ii., p. 164.), which has the merit of being
more rhymical and mysterious. In what district it was current I know
not.
"A whistling wife and a crowing hen Will call the old gentleman out of
his den."
G.L.B.
_A Charm for Warts._--In some parts of Ireland, especially towards the
south, they place great faith in the following charm:--When a funeral is
passing by, they rub the warts and say three times,
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