And death's roses pale and fair--
Who has borne the conquerer's prize?

"Ask Duke Alba, ask Duke Alba,
Which two knights their fame have proved,
One was my own valiant brother,
The other was my heart's beloved.
And I thought that I should crown them,
Doubly bright with glory's prize,
And a widow's veil is falling
Doubly o'er my weeping eyes,
For the brave knights ne'er again
Will be found mid living men."


The music paused, and soft dew-drops fell from her heavenly eyes.
Heimbert, who was concealed under the neighboring orange-trees, felt
sympathetic tears rolling down his cheeks, and Fadrique, who had led
him and Antonia there, could no longer delay the joy of meeting, but
stepping forward with his two companions he presented himself before
his sister, like some angelic messsenger.

Such moments of extreme and sudden delight, the heavenly blessings
long expected and rarely vouchsafed, are better imagined by each
after his own fashion, and it is doing but an ill service to recount
all that this one did and that one said. Picture it therefore to
yourself, dear reader, after your own fancy, as you are certainly far
better able to do, if the two loving pairs in my story have become
dear to you and you have grown intimite with them. If that, however,
be not the case, what is the use of wasting unnecessary words? For