vision must needs be yet more fully weighed in my mind ere I dare commit myself to any solemn avowal of the legend's truth." "The broad light of day has made you once more bold in your incredulity," said Lady Rosamond. "But you have confessed already your belief--or, not to offend you, I will call it your suspicion--that your fair vision was an ambassador from the nether world, and to that, good Master Percival, I will hold you! Verily you are scarce more chivalrous after all than your renowned grandsire towards our poor sex! I trow he must needs have loved indeed some of your nether-world phantoms, to make him so bitter of speech against us all! "'If women could be fair, and yet not fond, Or that their love were firm, not fickle still, I would not marvel that they make men bond By service long to purchase their goodwill; But when I see how frail these creatures are, I muse that men forget themselves so far. 'To mark the choice they make, and how they change, How oft from Phœbus do they fly to Pan; Unsettled still, like haggards wild they range, These gentle birds that fly from man to man; Who would not scorn, and shake them from the fist, And let them fly, poor fools, which way they list? 'Yet for disport we fawn and flatter both, To pass the time, when nothing else can please, And train them to our lure with subtle oath, Till, weary of their wiles, ourselves we ease; And then we say, when we their fancy try, To play with fools, O what a fool was I!'* * Poem by Vere, Earl of Oxford; died 1604. There, friend Percival, how gallant a grandfather hadst thou! Yet do I pity him, poor man, for I doubt not he had himself by nature a constanter heart than most, and was at some period sorely tried by one of my sex! What shame that some inconstant ones should so drag our good name in the dust! I scarce can in my mind's eye see you 'fawn and flatter,' proud Percival, e'en to gain the goodwill of a mystic water-sprite! Well, a truce to folly,--your reverend countenance looks grave over your grandsire's woe, unless it be over my unseemly mirth?--The Lady Bryn Afon, whom I encountered yesterday on my journey hitherwards, bade me assure you of her arrival towards sunset this evening, and moreover of her husband's wish that you should remain in attendance upon her for so long a time as she is pleased to sojourn in this wild spot, since he has himself no immediate need of your services, and would fain have you lay by a store of new strength in this healthful region, after your past months of hard reading."