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declared that she forgave her enemies, and protested that she was innocent of ever consenting in wish or deed to the death of her English sister. She then prayed in English for Christ's afflicted church, for her son James, and for queen Elizabeth, and in conclusion, holding up the crucifix, exclaimed, “ As thy arms, O God, were stretched out upon the cross, so receive me into the arms of thy mercy, and forgive my sins.”

When her maids, bathed in tears, began to disrobe their mistress, the executioners, fearing the loss of their usual perquisites, hastily interfered. The queen remonstrated, but instantly submitted to their rudeness, observing to the earls with a smile, that she was not accustomed to employ such grooms, or to undress in the presence of so numerous a company.

Her servants, at the sight of their sovereign in this lamentable state, could not suppress their feelings; but Mary, putting her finger to her lips, commanded silence, gave them her blessing, and solicited their prayers. She then seated herself again. Kennedy, taking from her a handkerchief edged with gold, pinned it over her eyes ; the executioners, holding her by the arms, led her to the block; and the queen, kneeling down, said repeatedly with a firm voice, “Into thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.” But the sobs and groans of the spectators disconcerted the headsman. He trembled, missed his aim, and inflicted a deep wound in the lower part of the skull. The queen remained motionless; and at the third stroke her head was severed from her body. When the executioner held it up, the muscles of the face were so strongly convulsed, that the features could not be recognized. He cried as usual, “ God save queen Elizabeth.”

“So perish all her enemies !” subjoined the dean of Peterborough.

rish all the enemies of the gospel !” exclaimed, in a still louder tone, the fanatical Earl of Kent.

Not a voice was heard to cry amen. Party feeling was absorbed in admiration and pitý.



(ROBERT BROWNING, a living poet of England, is the author of Paracelsus, a barra tive poem, of several dramas, and of much miscellaneous poetry, narrative, lyrical, and speculative. He is a man of peculiar and original genius. His poetry is much valued by the few, but is not likely to be ever popular with the many. He combines vigorous imaginative power with a rare faculty of acute mental analysis. Poetry and philosophy seem struggling in his mind for the mastery; and much of what he has written bas too strong a metaphysical flavor for the general taste. His poetry requires study; but it also rewards it. He uses words with great skill and power, but his versification is frequently rough and broken. His humor- in which he sometimes indulges - has a quaint and peculiar character, as the following specimen shows.]

HAMELIN town's in Brunswick,
By famous Hanover city;

The River Weser, deep and wide,
Washes its wall on the southern side ;

A pleasanter spot you never spied;
But, when begins my ditty,

Almost five hundred years ago,
To see the townsfolk suffer so
From vermin, was a pity.

They fought the dogs, and killed the cats,

And bit the babies in the cradles,
And ate the cheeses out of the vats,

And licked the soup from the cook's own ladles ;
Split open the kegs of salted sprats,
Made nests inside men's Sunday bats,
And even spoiled the women's chats,

By drowning their speaking

With shrieking and squeaking
In fifty different sharps and flats.

At last the people in a body

To the Town Hall came flocking;

6 'Tis clear," cried they, “our mayor's a noddy ;

And as for our corporation — shocking
To think we buy gowns lined with ermine
For dolts that can't or won't determine
What's best to rid us of our vermin!
You hope, because you're old and obese,
To find in the furry civic robe ease.

sirs ! Give


brains a racking To find the remedy we're lacking, Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!” At this the mayor and corporation Quaked with a mighty consternation.

An hour they sate in council ;

At length the mayor broke silence:
“For a guilder I'd my ermine gown sell;

I wish I were a mile hence!
It's easy to bid one rack one's brain
I'm sure my poor head aches again,
I've scratched it so, and all in vain.
O for a trap, a trap, a trap !”
Just as he said this, what should hap
At the chamber door but a gentle tap ?
“Bless us,” cried the mayor, “what's that?"
“Only a scraping of shoes on the mat;
Any thing like the sound of a rat
Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!”

“ Come in!” the mayor cried, looking bigger ,
And in did come the strangest figure !
His queer long coat from heel to head
Was half of yellow and half of red;
And he himself was tall and thin,
With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin,
And light, loose hair, yet swarthy skin,
No tuft on cheek, nor beard on chin,

But lips where smiles went out and in
There was no guessing his kith and kin.
And nobody could enough admire
The tall man and his quaint attire;
Quoth one, “ It's as my great grandsire,
Starting up at the trump of doom's tone,
Had walked this way from his painted tombstone!"

He advanced to the council table,
And “ Please your honors,” said he, “I'm able,
By means of a secret charm, to draw
All creatures living beneath the sun,
That creep, or swim, or fly, or run,
After me so as you never saw !
And I chiefly use my

On creatures that do people harm -
The mole, the toad, and newt, and viper ;
And people call me the Pied Piper.”
(And here they noticed round his neck

A scarf of red and yellow stripe,
To match with his coat of the selfsame check;

And at the scarf's end hung a pipe;
And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying,
As if impatient to be playing
Upon this pipe, as low it dangled
Over his vesture so old fangled.)
“Yet," said he,“ poor piper as I am,
In Tartary I freed the Cham,

Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats ; I eased in Asia the Nizam

Of a monstrous brood of vampyre bats And, as for what

brain bewilders, If I can rid your town of rats, Will you give me a thousand guilders ?” “One ? fifty thousand !” was the exclamation Of the astonished mayor and corporation.


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Into the street the piper stepped,

Smiling first a little smile,
As if he knew what magic slept

In his quiet pipe the while;
Then like a musical adept,
To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled,
And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled,
Like a candle flame where salt is sprinkled ;
And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered,
You heard as if an army muttered ;
And the muttering grew to a grumbling;
And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling;
And out of the houses the rats came tumbling.
Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,
Brown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny rats,
Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,

Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,
Curling tails and pricking whiskers,

Families by tens and dozens,
Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives -
Followed the piper for their lives.
From street to street he piped, advancing,
And step for step they followed, dancing,
Until they came to the River Weser,

Wherein all plunged and perished
Save one, who, stout as Julius Cæsar,
Swam across, and lived to carry

(As he the manuscript he cherished) To Rat-land home his commentary, Which was, “ At the first shrill notes of the pipe, I heard a sound as of scraping tripe, And putting apples, wondrous ripe, Into a cider press's gripe; And a moving away of pickle-tub boards, And a leaving ajar of conserve cupboards,

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