The Argosy — page 335: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

316 A Romantic Wedding. who, being ignominiously expelled, had managed to communicate with Sir Tudor, and thus been the means of the present adventure. “T knew you would come,” cried Ermentrude, clapping her hands as Sir Tudor entered. But it was not into his arms she threw herself, but into those of her faithful nurse, from whom she had never before been separated. Sir Tudor, however, soon enfolded her in his, with the words, ‘‘ My wife ! my dear wife!” and carried her off triumphantly. “Declare our marriage, parson,” he added, as he hastened down the great staircase, followed by Betto. A smooth-faced priest, one of the furious riders, advanced towards the discomfited Squire, and announced that he had married them by ‘book and bell,” under the greenwood tree. ‘Poltroons! robbers! villains all! cried the Squire. ‘“ Aubrey, come, assert thyself!” But Aubrey was nowhere to be seen. “Good-bye, uncle ; good-bye, Aunt Dorothy. Thou wilt come after us, Betto,” cried Ermentrude, when she was seated by her bridegroom on the white palfrey. And so, as the story goes, “‘ They loved and they rode away.” SS ES FROM THE ITALIAN OF PLUTARCH, ON HIS LOST LOVE. THE breeze refreshing, and the fragrance sweet, And flowering beauty of the laurel’s shade, My guiding star, and wearied life’s retreat, Earth’s devastating death in dust hath laid. As Phoebus darkened by his sister’s veil, So doth all kindly light my soul forsake ; And death as death’s sole antidote I hail, Such gloomy thoughts doth love within me wake. One short, sweet slumber, lady, thou hast slept, ‘Then woke for ever ’mid those spirits blest ; Who, in the great Creator’s bosom wrapt, Enjoy their long-sought, everlasting rest. But, oh, if yet my humble rhyme have worth, To win a place upon the scroll of fame, ’Mid those whose echoes ne’er are lost on earth, Perpetual glory shall attend thy name. ALICE KING. COMIC IOOKS aE