'Tis he the youth of sixteen years,
At Pavia, who his fortunes tried,
The Frenchman's fear, the Spaniard's pride.
Heimbert is the hero's name,
Victorious in many a fight!
And beside the valiant knight,
Sitting in the soft green grass,
Though her name her lips shall pass,
Dona Clara feels no shame "


"Oh!" said Heimbert, blushing from another cause than before, "oh,
Dona Clara, that affair at Pavia was nothing but a merry and
victorious tournament, and even if occasionally since then I have
been engaged in a tougher contest, how have I ever merited as a
reward the overwhelming bliss I am now enjoying! Now I know what
your name is, and I may in future address you by it, my angelic Dona
Clara, my blessed and beautiful Dona Clara! But tell me now, who has
given you such a favorable report of my achievements, that I may ever
regard him with grateful affection?"

"Does the noble Heimbert of Waldhausen suppose," rejoined Clara,
"that the noble houses of Spain had none of their sons where he stood
in the battle? You must have surely seen them fighting by your side,
and must I not have heard of your glories through the lips of my own
people?"

The silvery tones of a little bell sounded just then from a
neighboring palace, and Clara whispered, "It is time to part. Adieu,
my hero!" And she smiled on the youth through her gushing tears, and