A pause ensued; the King and his nobles looked on in breathless curiosity, for they knew not where he had bestowed his favours. The dames also gazed in envious silence, and in hopes that the supplicant would be refused. He soon himself began to dread what they hoped; his countenance changed; the wild lustre of his eye faded; and he began to look around to see where he could get a sword on which to fall and kill himself. He cast one other pitiful look to Delany, but she deigned no movement to his relief,--still keeping her seat, though visibly in great agitation. But, at length, when hope was extinct in his bosom, there appeared one to his relief. This was no other than his old rival the gospel friar, who had been admitted in an official capacity, in order to join hands and bless unions if any such chanced to be agreed on. He was standing ruminating behind backs; but seeing the first offer about to be rejected, and aware of the force of example, whether good or bad, and how little chance he had of employment that day if the first effort misgave, he stepped briskly up to Delany, and, taking her hand, said, "Lo, my daughter, have not I travelled for thee in pain, and yearned over thee as a mother yearneth over the son of her youth? Why wilt thou break my heart, and the heart of him that burneth for thy love?" Delany then rose, and with trembling step came toward her lover, led by the grotesque form of the good friar. The tears gushed from the poet's eyes as she lifted the laurel crown from the floor, and replacing it on his head, said, as she raised him up, "Thou hast adventured and overcome. Hence be thou the lord of my heart and affections." The friar gave them no more time to palaver, but joined their hands, pronounced them a married pair, and blessed their union in the name of the Trinity. Then Sir Charles Scott kneeled, and, casting his eyes gravely toward the floor, said only these words: "Will the lady whom I serve take pity on her humble slave, or shall he retire from this presence ashamed and disgraced."