"Who," cried Peregrine, quite beside himself, "who is this HE? For the first time in my life I see _you_, lady, and who are YOU? who is this HE?" Dissolving in grief, the stranger threw herself at Peregrine's feet, while the tears poured down in abundant streams from her eyes: "Be humane, be merciful--give him back to me!"--and at the same time her exclamations were mingled with those of Peregrine, "I shall lose my senses! I shall go mad! I shall be frantic!" On a sudden the maiden started up. She seemed much larger than before; her eyes flashed fire, her lips quivered, and she exclaimed, with furious gestures, "Ha, barbarian! no human heart dwells in you! You are inexorable! You wish my death, my destruction! You won't give him up! No--never, never! Wretched me!--Lost! lost!" And with this she rushed out of the room. Peregrine heard her clattering down the stairs, while her lamentations filled the whole house, till at last a door below was flung to with violence. Second Adventure. The Flea-tamer.--Melancholy fate of the Princess Gamaheh, in Famagusta.--Awkwardness of the Genius, Thetel, and remarkable microscopic experiments and recreations.--The beautiful Hollandress, and singular adventure of the young Mr. George Pepusch, a student of Jena. At this time there was a man in Frankfort, who practised the strangest art possible. He was called the flea-tamer, from having succeeded--and certainly not without much trouble and exertion--in educating these little creatures, and teaching them to execute all sorts of pretty tricks. You saw with the greatest astonishment a troop of fleas upon a slab of highly-polished marble, who drew along little cannons, ammunition-waggons, and baggage-carts, while others leaped along by them with muskets in their arms, cartouch-boxes on their backs, and sabres at their sides. At the word of command from the artist, they performed the most difficult evolutions, and all seemed fuller of life and mirth than if they had been real soldiers; for the marching consisted in the neatest entrechats and capers, and the faces about, right and left, in the most graceful pirouettes. The whole troop had a wonderful a-plomb, and the general seemed to be at the same time a most admirable ballet-master. But even more handsome and more wonderful were the little gold coaches, which were drawn by four, six, or eight fleas. Coachmen and servants were little gold flies, of the smallest kind and almost invisible; while that, which sate within, could not be well distinguished. One was involuntarily reminded of the equipage of Queen Mab, so admirably described by Shakspeare's Mercutio, that it is easy to perceive she must often have travelled athwart his own nose.