He hath bound her at his horse’s heels--nor shriek nor prayer he heeds; O’er rugged rock, through bush and briar, the goaded courser speeds; Her flesh is rent by every thorn, her blood stains every stone,-- Now, Jesu sweet, have mercy! for her cruel lord hath none! And lo! the sharp edge of a flint hath shorn the cord in twain; Down leaps the vengeful lord to make his victim fast again. ‘What have I done.? Before I die, my crime, Hernando, say?’ ‘The golden rings I charged thee keep, thou false one, where are they?’ ‘Oh where, but on the hand which, with my heart, I gave to thee! Draw off my glove--I cannot--for my strength is failing me!’ ‘Oh curses on my frantic rage!--my wrong’d--my murder’d wife-- Come forth, my sword! Then, Clara, shall life atone for life!’ She staggered up, love gave her strength, the sword afar she hurl’d, ‘Thou know’st my innocence! Oh, live to prove it to the world! Weep not for Clara--loved by thee, contented she expires! Live for our child--the boy whose fame shall emulate his sire’s!’ ‘Our child!--the child my fury hath made motherless to-day! And when he for his mother asks--O God--what shall I say?’ ‘Say that her name was Clara--that _thy_ love was her pride-- That, blessing him and thee, she smiled, as in thy arms she died!’ Mr. Planché has borrowed the subject of his admirable poem from a legend still popular in Normandy. It is that of Marianson, the wife of a French noble. An evil spirit instigates a false knight to borrow the three golden token-rings of the lady during the absence of her lord. He takes them to a jeweller, who is ordered to prepare three others exactly similar, and then returns the lady her own rings. On his way he meets the husband, whose wife he declares has been unfaithful, and in proof of his assertion he shows the three surreptitious rings. The result of this is the fearful death of Marianson, being tied to the tail of a wild horse, and torn to pieces, and the after-discovery of the three rings in her drawer by the jealous husband. A somewhat similar legend is related of the Lady of Toggenburg, who lived in a castle near the Lake of Zurich. Her ‘token’ ring was stolen by a crow, who dropped it in the park, where it was found by a young squire, who placed it on his finger. The Count of Toggenburg, passing at the time, saw the ring, and, inflamed by jealous fury, without asking any questions, rushed into the castle, and hurled his wife from the battlements into the lake. The young squire was torn to pieces by wild horses. CHAPTER VII. MEMORIAL AND MORTUARY RINGS. Bequests of rings are frequently mentioned in wills of the middle and later ages. In the reign of Henry the Third, two rings were bequeathed to that monarch by a bishop of Chichester, one adorned with an emerald, the other with a ruby. These jewels were taken out and employed to decorate an image of the Virgin at Westminster, and were placed on her forehead.