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ti8iiop Bruno awoke in the dead midnight, i nd ho heard his heart beat loud with affright: le dreamt he had rung the palace-bell, ind the sound it gave vu his passing knell.

tishop Bruno smiled at his fears so vain, Ic turned to sleep and he dreamt again; te, rung at the palace-gato once more, I nd Death was the porter that open'd the door.

f e started up at the fearful dream,

lnd he heard at his window the screech-owl

scream! lishop Bruno slept no more that night,— )h! glad was he when he saw the day-light!

jTow he goes forth in proud array,
:or he with the Emperor dines to-day;
'here was not a Baron in Germany
That went with a nobler train than he.

leforc and behind his soldiers ride,
["he people throng'd to see their pride;
They bow'd the head, and the knee they bent,
lut nobody blest him as he went.

io he went on stately and proud,

Vhen he heard a voice that cried aloud t

Io! ho! Bishop Bruno! you travel with

glee,— lut I would have you know,you travel to me!

Ichind and before and on either side, Ic look'd, but nobody he espied; lnd the Bishop at that grew cold with fear, ■"or he heard the words distinct and clear.

lnd when he rung at the pnlace-bcll, Ic almost expected to hear his knell; lnd when the porter turn'd the key, le almost expected Death to see.

lut soon the Bishop recovcr'd his glee, ■"or the Emperor wclcom'd him royally; Lnd now the tables were spread, and there iVcre choicest wines and dainty fare.

lnd now the Bishop had blest the meat, iVhen a voice was heard as he sat in his

scat,— tV ith the Emperor now you are dining in glee, lut know, Bishop Bruno! you sup with me!

When he sat down to the royal fare Bishop Bruno was the saddest man there; But when the masquers cnter'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 check grows pale, and his eye-balls glare, And stilT round his tonsure bristles his hair; With that there came one from the masquers'

And took the Bishop by the hand.

The bony hand suspended his breath,
His marrow grew cold at the touch of Death;
On saints in vain he attempted to call,
Bishop Bruno fell dead in the palace-hall.

Che Bishop then grew pnlc with all right.

lnd snddenly lost his appetite;

III the wine and dainty cheer

yould not comfort his heart so sick with fear.

lut by little and little recovered he,
ror the wine went flowing merrily,
knd he forgot his former dread,
lnd his ehceks uguin grew rosy-red.


It is Antidius the Bishop

Who now at even-tide

Taking the air and saying a prayer,

Walks by the river-side.

The Devil had business that evening,
And he upon earth would go;
For it was in the month of August,
And the weather was close below.

He had his books to settle,
And up to earth he hied,
To do it there in the evening-nir,
All by the river-side.

His imps enmc flying around him.

Of his a Hairs to tell;

From the north, ami the south, and the east,

and the west; They brought him the news that he liked best, Of the things they had done, and the Bciuis

they had won, And how they sped well in the service of Hell.

There came a devil posting in
Returned from his employ,
Seven years had ho been gone from Hell,
And now he came grinning for joy.

Seven years, quoth he, of trouble and toil

Have I labour'd the Pope to win;

And I to-day have caught him,

He hath done the deadly sin.

And then he took the Devil's book,

And wrote the deed therein.

Oh, then King Beelzebub for joy,
He drew his mouth so wide,
You might have seen his iron teeth,
Four and forty from side to side.

He wagg'd his ears, he twisted his tail,

He knew not for joy what to do,

In bis hoofs and his horns, in his heels and

his corns, It tickled him all through.

The Bishop who beheld all this,
Straight how to act bethought him;
He leapt upon the Devil's back,
And by the horns he caught him.

And he said a Pater-nostcr

As fast as he could say,

And made a cross on the Devil's head,

And bade him to Rome away.

Without bridle, or saddle, or whip, or spur,
Away they go like the wind,
The beads of the BiBhop are hanging before,
And the tail of the Devil behind.

They met a Witch and she hail'd them

As soon as she came within call;

Ave Maria! the Bishop exclaimed,

It frightened her broom-stick and she got

a fall.

He ran against a shooting star,

So fast for fear did he sail.

And he singed the beard of the Bishop

Against a Comet's tail.

And he pass'd between the horns of the Moon,
With Antidius on his back;
And there was an eclipse that night,
Which was not in the Almanack.

The Bishop just as they set out,
To tell his beads begun;
And he was by the bed of the Pope
Before the string was done.

The l'opc fell down upon his knees,
In terror and confusion,
And he confcsB'd the deadly sin
And he had absolution.

And all the Popes in bliss that be,
Sung oh be joyful! then;
And all the Popes in bale that be,
They howl'd for envy then;
For they before kept jubilee,
Expecting his good company,
Down in the Devil's den.

But what was this the Pope had done

To bind his soul to hell?

Ah! that is the mystery of this wonderful

history, And I wish that I could tell.

But would you know to hell you mint p.
You can easily find the way.
It is a broad and a well-known road
That is travell'd by night and by day.

And you must look in the Devil's boot;
You will find one debt that was never paiira
If you search the leaves throughout;
And that is the mystery of this wonderful his-
And the way to find it out.


The friars five have girt their loin*,

And taken staff in hand;
And never shall those friars again

Hear mass in Christian land.

They went to Queen Orraca,

To thank her and bless her then;

And Queen Orraca in tears
Knelt to the holy men.

Three things, Queen Orraca,

We prophecy to you:
Hear us, in the name of God!

For time will prove them true.

In Morocco we must martyr'd be:
Christ hath vouchsafed it thus:

We shall shed our blood for him
Who shed his blood for us.

To Coimbra shall our bodies be brovgii;

For such is the will divine;
That Christians may behold and feel

Blessings at our shrine.

And when unto that place of rest
Our bodies shall draw nigh,

Who sees us first, the King or yon,
That one that night must die.

Fare theo well, Queen Orraca;

For thy soul a mass we will say. Every day while we do live,

And on thy dying day.

The friars they blest her, one by oor.
Where she knelt on her knee;

And they departed to the land
Of the Moors beyond the sea.

What news, oh Kuig Alfonso!

What news of die friars five? Have they preach'd to the Miramamiilii | And arc Uiey still alive?

^Iicy have fought the fight, oh Queen!
They have run the race;

II robe* of white they hold the palm
Before the throne of grace.

ill naked in the sun and air

Their mangled bodies lie;
Vlmt Christian dared to bury them,

By the bloody Moors would die.

Vhnt news, oh King Alfonso!

Of the Martyrs five what news? )oth the bloody Miramamolin

Their burial still refuse?

"Iiiit on a dunghill they should rot,

The bloody Moor decreed; 'lint their dishonour'd bodies should

The dogs and vultures feed:

?nt the thunder of God roll'd over them, And the lightning of God flash'd round;

snr thing impure, nor man impure, Could approach the holy ground.

k thousand miracles appall'd

The cruel Pagan's mind. )ur brother Pedro brings them here,

In Coimbra to be shrined.

2 very altar in Coimbra
Is drest for the festival day;

III the people in Coimbra,

Arc dight in their richest array.

2 very bell in Coimbra

Doth merrily, merrily ring;
The clergy and the knights await,

To go forth with the Queen and the King.

lome forth, come forth, Queen Orraca! We make the procession stay, beseech thee, King Alfonso, Go you alone to-day.

have p.ain in my head this morning I am ill at heart also: «•> without me, King Alfonso, For I am too sick to go.

The relics of the Martyrs five

All maladies can cure;
They will requite the charity

V cm shew'd them once, be sure:

tome forth then, Queen Orraca!

You make the procession stay: t were a scandal and a sin

To abide at home to-day.

Ipon her palfrey she is set,

And forward then they go;
Lnd over the long bridge they pass.

And up the long hill wind slow.

Prick forward, King Alfonso,

And do not wait for me;
To meet them close by Coimbra,

It were discourtesy.

A little while I needs must wait,
Till this sore pain be gone:—

I will proceed the best I can,
But do you and your knights prick on.

The King and his knights prick'd up the hill

Faster than before; The King and his knights have tnpt the hill,

And now they are seen no more.

As the King and his knights went down the hill

A wild boar crost the way; Follow him! follow him! cried the King:

VVe have time by the Queen's delay!

A-hunting of the boar astray

Is King Alfonso gone:
Slowly, slowly, but straight the while,

Queen Orraca is coming on.

And winding now the train appears

Between the olive-trees: Queen Orraca alighted then,

And fell upon her knees.

The friars of Alanqucr came first,

And next the relics past;— Queen Orraca look'd to sec

The King and his knights come last.

She heard the horses tramp behind:

At that she turn'd her face:
King Alfonso and his knights came up

All panting from the chase.

Have pity upon my poor soul.
Holy Martyrs five! cried she:

Holy Mary, Mother of God,
Virgin, pray for me!

That day in Coimbra,

Many a heart was gay;
But the heaviest heart in Coimbra,

Was that poor Queen's that day.

The festival is over,

The sun hath sunk in the west; All the people'in Coimbra

Have betaken themselves to rest.

Queen Orraca's father confessor

At midnight is awake; Kneeling at the Martyrs' shrine,

And praying for her sake.

Just at the midnight-hour, when all

Was still as still could lie. Into the church of Santa Cruz,

Came a saintly company:

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,
There flow'd a heavenly light;

For each one was the blessed soul
Of a friar minorite.

Brighter than their brethren,

Among the beautiful band,
Fire 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 how'd his head;
And then with solemn voice they sung

The service of the dead.

And who are ye, ye blessed saints?

The father confessor said;
And for what happy soul sing ye

The service of the dead?

These are the souls of our brethren in bliss,

The Martyrs five are we;
And this is our father Francisco,

Among us bodily.

We are come hither to perform

Our promise to the Queen; Go thou to King Alfonso,

And say what thou hast seen.

There was loud knocking at the door,

As the heavenly visinn fled;
And the porter called to the confessor,

To tell him the Queen was dead.

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quos habuit aopcratitea, monachnn vMebe' Tiionacham, per epi9tolam invitavit; ad*mn autem voce singultiente alloquitnr. Ega, iaa. o pueri, meo miaerabili fato daernoniacis w artibus inscrvivi; ego omniam vitiornai m ego illecebrarum omnium fui magistn. £& tamen mihi inter hare mala spes vestry r*£a> niti, quae meam solidarct aninaam desperauav * eipectabam propugnatores contra. da*aeaa\aa tores contra saewasimos hoste*. Xoec ipr quoniam ad finem vita; perveni, rogo *•» matcrna libera, ut mea tentatis alleviatta*, menta. lnsuite me defunctam in corio eenm ac deinde in sarcophago lapiden euppoaite. >~ ciilumqueferro et plumbo constringitc, ac.-i lapidem tribus catenis ferrei* et Forti*fiBe ~ cumdantea, clericoa qoinqnaginta psalaarsaa* tores, et tot per trea dies presbyters* asiwra celebratorea applicate, qui ferocea lraur-t veraariorum incurane. Ita si tribus nocti»t> * ciira jacnero, quarta die me infodite ansu. F» tumque eat ut prxceperat Hits. Sed, prab **> nil precea, nil lacryma*, nil demnm ralserr a tenae. Primis enim duabus noctibus, cam w psallentium corpori assistebant, adi Daemones ostium ecclesia* confregcrent i obice clausnm, extrcmasque catenas i levi dirumpunt; media autem qua* forrfer rrs illibata manebat. Tenia autem oocte, circa r licinium, strepitu boatium adventantiam. aaa monasterium visum est a fundamento me** Units ergo da-mnnuin, et vultu ceteris terr-tu* et atatura eminentior, januaa Ecclesie iaarviolento concusaas In fracmenta dejecit- !>:-■'• runt clerici cum laicia, meta stetemat ea"w* capilli, et paalmorum concentus defeeit. Bra* ergo gestu tit videbatttr arroganti ad sepgk*.-u accedeua,et nomen mulieris modicum iageaiarr surgere imperavit. Qua respondent*, qa*»4 tquiret pro vinculia, jam main tun. iaqait, • ria; et protinua catenam qua* carteroraa aw ciam daemonom delttserat, velot emppeaai ra culum rumpebat. Operculum etiam scpacr pede depellens, mulicrem palam omaibat ai * clesia extraiit, ubi pns foribna nigcr eqm « perbe binniena videbatur, uncis ferreis etc's»> ulidique confixus, super quern misera. malices** jecta, ab ocnlia assiatentinm cvannit. Aedipaa tur tamen clamnres per quatnor fere aulir3 horribiles, auxilium poatulantcs. lata itaqer ci retuli incredibila non erunt, si legator W*v Gregorii dialogus, in quo refert, boraiacat Li clesia sepultom a dxmonibus foraa ejecraau r apud Francos Carolns Martellus, insigait vir-r tudinis, qui Saracenos C alii am ingreMw r!paniam redirc compolit, eiactis vita? »aa> air** in Ecclcsia beati Dionysii lagitur fnisse vr* tna. Sed quia patrimonia, cum decimia aanaa fere ecclesiarum Gallia*, pro atipeadio caaaaSi tonum suorum mutilaverat, miaerabiliter a ai lignia apiritibus de scpulchro corporalitrr r» sua, naque in hodiernum diem ansqnam raajssri: Mathkcb 1vk>t<

The Raven croaked as she sate at her m*
And the Old Woman knew what he sat

And she grew pale at the Ravcn'st tale.
And sickvn'd nnd went to her bed.

Now fetch me my children, and fetch tV* with speed.

The Old Woman of Berkeley mid. The monk my son, and my daughter thraa

Bid litem hasten or I shall be dead

The monk her son, and her daughter thra* Their way to Berkeley went

And they have brought with pious thosrt The holy sacrament.

c Old Woman shrlek'd as they entcr'd her

1'uan fearful her Bhrieks to hear,
w take the sacrament oway,
or mercy, ray children dear!

r lip it trembled with agony,
lir sweat ran down her brow,
ave tortures in store for evermore,
>li! spare me, ray children, now!

ay they sent the sacrament,

The fit it left her weak,

s lnok'd at her children with ghastly eyes,

iiitl faintly struggled to speak.

kinds of sin I have rioted in, ind the judgment now must be, t I secured my children's souls, Hi, pray, my children, for me!

ave snek'd the breath of sleeping babes, 'he fiends have been my slaves, ave 'nointed myself with infants' fat, nd feasted on rifled graves.

I the Devil will fetch me now in fire,
ly witchcrafts to atone;
I I who have rifled the dead man's grave
hall never have rest in my own.

»s, I entreat, my winding sheet,
ly children, I beg of you!
I with holy water sprinkle my shroud,
nd sprinkle my coffin too!

I let me be chain'd in my coffin of stone,
nd fasten it strong, I implore,
li iron bars, and with three chains
hain it to the church-floor.

[ bless the chains and sprinkle them,
nd let fifty priests stand round,
it night and day the mass may say,
fhere I lie on the ground.

I see that fifty choristers
cside the bier attend me,
day and night by the taper's light
i ith holy hymns defend me.

the church-hells all both great and small,
e toll'd by night and day,
drive from thence the fiends who come
o bear my body away.

ever have the church-door barr'd ftcr the even-song;

I beseech you, children dear, el the bars and bolts be strong.

let this be three days and nights ly wretched corpse to save, p me so long from the fiendish throng, nd then I may rest in my grave.

The Old Woman of Berkeley laid her down, 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 rites and prayers due, With holy water they sprinkled her shroud,

And they sprinkled her coffin too.

And they chain'd her in her coffin of stone, And with iron barr'd it down,

And in the church with three strong chains They chain'd it to the ground.

And they blest the chains and sprinkled them,

And fifty priests stood round,
By night and day the mass to say

Where she lay on the ground.

And fifty sacred chorjsters

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

It was a goodly sight,
Each holding, as it were a staff,

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

Burnt steadily and clear,
But they without a hideous rout

Of angry fiends could hear;

A hideous roar at the church-door

Like a long thunder-peal, And the priests they pray'd,and the choristers sung

Louder in fenrful seal.

Loud toll'd the bell, the priests pray'd well, The tapers they burnt bright.

The monk her son, and her daughter the nun, They told their beads all night.

The cock he crew, the fiends they flew
From the voice of the morning away;

Then undisturb'd the choristers sing,
And the fifty priests they pray;

As they had sung nnd pray'd all night,
They pray'd nnd sung all day.

The second night the tapers' light

Burnt dismally and blue.
And every one saw his neighbour's face

Like a dead man's face to view.

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