to win a victory? I love the sleep of the lover and the mighty;
nor would I give it over till the blood of my enemies should wreak
with that of my own. But God forbid that our fame should soar
on the blood of the slumberer.” Mr. Valeer stands at his door
with the frown of a demon upon his brow, with his dangerous
weapon ready to strike the first man who should enter his door.
“Who will arise and go forward through blood and carnage to the rescue
of my Ambulinia?” said Elfonzo. “All,” exclaimed the multitude;
and onward they went, with their implements of battle. Others, of a
more timid nature, stood among the distant hills to see the result of
the contest.
Elfonzo took the lead of his band. Night arose in clouds;
darkness concealed the heavens; but the blazing hopes that stimulated
them gleamed in every bosom. All approached the anxious spot;
they rushed to the front of the house and, with one exclamation,
demanded Ambulinia. “Away, begone, and disturb my peace no more,”
said Mr. Valeer. “You are a set of base, insolent, and infernal rascals.
Go, the northern star points your path through the dim twilight of
the night; go, and vent your spite upon the lonely hills; pour forth
your love, you poor, weak-minded wretch, upon your idleness and upon
your guitar, and your fiddle; they are fit subjects for your admiration,
for let me assure you, though this sword and iron lever are cankered,
yet they frown in sleep, and let one of you dare to enter my
house this night and you shall have the contents and the weight
of these instruments.” “Never yet did base dishonor blur my name,”
said Elfonzo; “mine is a cause of renown; here are my warriors;
fear and tremble, for this night, though hell itself should oppose,
I will endeavor to avenge her whom thou hast banished in solitude.
The voice of Ambulinia shall be heard from that dark dungeon.”
At that moment Ambulinia appeared at the window above, and with a
tremulous voice said, “Live, Elfonzo! oh! live to raise my stone
of moss! why should such language enter your heart? why should thy
voice rend the air with such agitation? I bid thee live, once more
remembering these tears of mine are shed alone for thee, in this dark
and gloomy vault, and should I perish under this load of trouble,
join the song of thrilling accents with the raven above my grave,
and lay this tattered frame beside the banks of the Chattahoochee
or the stream of Sawney’s brook; sweet will be the song of death to
your Ambulinia. My ghost shall visit you in the smiles of Paradise,
and tell your high fame to the minds of that region, which is far more
preferable than this lonely cell. My heart shall speak for thee till
the latest hour; I know faint and broken are the sounds of sorrow,
yet our souls, Elfonzo, shall hear the peaceful songs together.
One bright name shall be ours on high, if we are not permitted to be
united here; bear in mind that I still cherish my old sentiments,
and the poet will mingle the names of Elfonzo and Ambulinia
in the tide of other days.” “Fly, Elfonzo, ” said the voices
of his united band, “to the wounded heart of your beloved.
All enemies shall fall beneath thy sword. Fly through the clefts,
and the dim spark shall sleep in death.” Elfonzo rushes forward
and strikes his shield against the door, which was barricaded,
to prevent any intercourse. His brave sons throng around him.
The people pour along the streets, both male and female, to prevent or
witness the melancholy scene.
“To arms, to arms!” cried Elfonzo; “here is a victory to be won,
a prize to be gained that is more to me that the whole world beside.”
“It cannot be done tonight,” said Mr. Valeer. “I bear the clang
of death; my strength and armor shall prevail. My Ambulinia shall
rest in this hall until the break of another day, and if we fall,
we fall together. If we die, we die clinging to our tattered rights,