Volume 2 — From Once A Week. AN ENGLISH MAIDEN'S LOVE.

'Twas in the grand heroic days, When Coeur de Lion reigned and fought; An English knight ta'en in those frays To Sultan Saladin was brought. The sultan sat upon his throne, His courtiers stood around; And emir, prince, and padisha Bent lowly to the ground. They served him upon bended knee— "To hear is to obey;"— For the fierce and cruel Moslem race An iron hand must sway. The monarch gazed on each stem face; "Ye Moslem chiefs are brave; But I know a braver man than ye, Bring forth the Christian slave!" The slave was brought, and at a sign The scimitar waved high, But the English captive gazed unmoved, With calm unshrinking eye. Then spoke the sultan: "Hugh de Vere, I've need of men like thee, And thou shalt be the first man here, In this land, after me. "Thou shalt have gold, and gems, and land, Palaces shall be thine. And thou shalt wed a queenly bride, And be a son of mine. "Only forsake thy fathers' faith, Mah'med and God adore, And forget thy love and fatherland. Which thou shalt see no more." Then Hugh de Vere obeisance made;— "Since I must make reply, I will not change my love or faith, Far liever would I die. {28} "I have a God who died for me. His soldier I am sworn. Shall I, whose shoulder bears the cross, Upon the cross bring scorn? "I have a love, a gentle girl. Whom I love as my wife; I cannot bear a Moslem name. Nor wed a Moslem wife." "Bethink thee now," the sultan said; "How knowest thou that the maid Is not now wed, since thy return Hath been so long delayed? "Fickle and false is woman's heart, It changes like the sky; The showers that fall so fast to-night To-morrow' sun will dry. "Nor—trust me—e'er was maiden yet Constant as is the dove, Who dies of grief for her lost mate, And knows no second love." Then at the monarch's feet bowed low The saintly frères who came To ransom slaves, bound by their vow, For Jesu's holy name. And at his footstool wealth untold With lavish hands they pour: "His bride sends thee her gems and gold; Sir Hugh de Vere restore!" The sultan spoke: "The other knights And men may go with thee. But not for gold or jewels bright Shall Hugh de Vere go free. "I love him with a brother's love, His love I hope to win. And in this land raise him above All men save Saladin. "What is a woman's love to mine? A hundred slaves I'll give, Let him his Christian faith resign, And in my shadow live. "His lady-love sends pearls and gold, She'd give them for a shawl, But she must give a dearer thing Before I yield my thrall. {29} "I'll try how Christian maidens love— This answer to her bear, 'Thy faith and fealty to prove, Give what is far more dear. "'This is the ransom I demand, No meaner thing I'll take, Thy own right arm and lily hand Cut off for thy love's sake." "Return, good frères," Sir Hugh then said, "To my betrothed bride, And speak of me henceforth as dead, Since here I must abide. "For rather would I die this day Beneath the paynim swords, Than ye should bear Agnes de Bray The sultan's cruel words. "For well I know her faithful heart Both arm and life would give To ransom mine;—and will not prove Her death, that I may live." Then mournfully the ransom sent The good frères took once more. And with the captives they had freed Sailed to the English shore. And Earl de Bray's castell they sought, And to fair Agnes told, How that her lover could not be Ransomed for gems or gold. And that the cruel sultan asked,— Nor meaner thing would take,— Her own right arm and lily hand, Cut off for her love's sake. A shudder ran through all who heard, Her mother shrieked aloud, Her father, crimsoning, clutched his sword, And death to Moslems vowed. Her little sister to her ran, And clasped her tightly round: "Sure, sister, such a wicked man Cannot on earth be found?" But Agnes smoothed the child's long hair And kissed her, then spoke low, "That cruel is the ransom asked. My dear ones, well I know. {30} "But did not God for ransom give His own beloved Son? And do not churls and nobles give Their lives for king and throne? "Has not my lord and father bled By Coeur de Lion's side? And would he bid his daughter shirk Duty—whate'er betide? "Am I not Hugh de Vere's betrothed, Fast pledged to be his wife? Do not I owe him fealty, Even though it cost my life? "What is my life? Long days and years In vain repining spent, And orisons to God to end My dear love's banishment. "And he has heard. At last my prayers Have reached up to God's throne God gives me back my long lost one, Nor leaves me sad and lone. "Only, he asks a sacrifice, A proof my love is pure: For such great gain, a little pain. And shall I not endure?" * * * * * Once more the Sultan Saladin Sat in his royal court, At his right hand stood Hugh de Vere Grave-eyed and full of thought. A herald came. "Sultan, our lord, The Christians' holy men Who come to ransom captive slaves, An audience crave again." The friars came, and, bowing low, They placed before the throne A silver casket richly chased: And spoke in solemn tone. "Monarch, to whom women are slaves, Toys of an idle hour, Learn in a nobler faith than thine Love's purity and power. "The cruel ransom thou didst ask For Hugh de Vere here take, His love's right arm and lily hand "Cut off for her love's sake." {31} Then Hugh de Vere, beside himself, The casket seized, and said, "O cruel monks, why told ye her? I bade ye call me dead. "O fair sweet arm! O dear white hand! Cut off for my poor sake!" And to his breast prest it and sobbed, As if his heart would break. But Saladin the casket oped, And lo! embalmed there lay The fair white arm and lily hand Sent by Agnes de Bray. And as he gazed his tears flowed down, His nobles also wept "Oh I would ere I such words had said I'd with my fathers slept!" The lily hand full reverently And like a saint's he kissed. "O gentle hand! what noble heart Thee owned, I never wist. "I never dreamed that woman lived Who would, to save her lord, Thus freely give her own right arm And hand unto the sword. "Mah'med and God witness for me, I loved Sir Hugh de Vere! And thought if I this ransom asked I should retain him here. "Fair arm, fair hand, and true brave love! My kingdom I'd resign— Richer than any king of earth In such a love as thine! "Take, Hugh de Vere, thy freedom, won So nobly by thy love; Take gems, and silks, and gold,—all vain Saladin's grief to prove. "Tell her I yield my selfish love: Well may she claim thy life! She who was such a noble love Will be a noble wife! "Unloose the sails, make no delay, Depart ere close the day. While I among my precious things Thy ransom stow away. "That, 'mid my treasure placed, it may To future ages prove How holy Christians' plighted troth, How pure their maidens' love!"