“Our pretty Rose seems sad,” said Lady Grenville, coming up to her. “Cheer up, child! we want you to come and sing to us.”
Rose answered she knew not what, and obeyed mechanically.
She took the lute, and sat down on a bench beneath the house, while the rest grouped themselves round her.
“What shall I sing?”
“Let us have your old song, ‘Earl Haldan’s Daughter.’”
Rose shrank from it. It was a loud and dashing ballad, which chimed in but little with her thoughts; and Frank had praised it too, in happier days long since gone by. She thought of him, and of others, and of her pride and carelessness; and the song seemed ominous to her: and yet for that very reason she dared not refuse to sing it, for fear of suspicion where no one suspected; and so she began per force—
I.
She look’d across the sea;
She look’d across the water,
And long and loud laugh’d she;
’The locks of six princesses
Must be my marriage-fee,
So hey bonny boat, and ho bonny boat!
Who comes a wooing me?’
II.
She walk’d along the sand;
When she was aware of a knight so fair,
Come sailing to the land.
His sails were all of velvet,
His mast of beaten gold,
And ‘hey bonny boat, and ho bonny boat,
Who saileth here so bold?’
III.
I won beyond the sea;
I shore their golden tresses,
To fringe a cloak for thee.
One handful yet is wanting,
But one of all the tale;
So hey bonny boat, and ho bonny boat!
Furl up thy velvet sail!’
IV.
That rover young and bold;
He gript Earl Haldan’s daughter,
He shore her locks of gold;
’Go weep, go weep, proud maiden,
The tale is full to-day.
Now hey bonny boat, and ho bonny boat!
Sail Westward-ho, and away!’”
As she ceased, a measured voice, with a foreign accent, thrilled through her.
“In the East, they say the nightingale sings to the rose; Devon, more happy, has nightingale and rose in one.”
“We have no nightingales in Devon, Don Guzman,” said Lady Grenville; “but our little forest thrushes sing, as you hear, sweetly enough to content any ear. But what brings you away from the gentlemen so early?”
“These letters,” said he, “which have just been put into my hand; and as they call me home to Spain, I was loath to lose a moment of that delightful company from which I must part so soon.”
“To Spain?” asked half-a-dozen voices: for the Don was a general favorite.
| Previous chapter/page | Back | Home | Email this | Search | Discuss | Bookmark | Next chapter/page |