<p>A. Farcillo, listen to me one moment; I hope you will not kill me.</p>
<p>F. Kill you, aye, that I will; attest it, ye fair host of light, record
it, ye dark imps of hell!</p>
<p>A. Oh, I fear you—you are fatal when darkness covers your brow; yet
I know not why I should fear, since I never wronged you in all my life. I
stand, sir, guiltless before you.</p>
<p>F. You pretend to say you are guiltless! Think of thy sins, Amelia; think,
oh, think, hidden woman.</p>
<p>A. Wherein have I not been true to you? That death is unkind, cruel, and
unnatural, that kills for living.</p>
<p>F. Peace, and be still while I unfold to thee.</p>
<p>A. I will, Farcillo, and while I am thus silent, tell me the cause of such
cruel coldness in an hour like this.</p>
<p>F. That RING, oh, that ring I so loved, and gave thee as the ring of my
heart; the allegiance you took to be faithful, when it was presented; the
kisses and smiles with which you honored it. You became tired of the
donor, despised it as a plague, and finally gave it to Malos, the hidden,
the vile traitor.</p>
<p>A. No, upon my word and honor, I never did; I appeal to the Most High to
bear me out in this matter. Send for Malos, and ask him.</p>
<p>F. Send for Malos, aye! Malos you wish to see; I thought so. I knew you
could not keep his name concealed. Amelia, sweet Amelia, take heed, take
heed of perjury; you are on the stage of death, to suffer for YOUR SINS.</p>
<p>A. What, not to die I hope, my Farcillo, my ever beloved.</p>
<p>F. Yes, madam, to die a traitor's death. Shortly your spirit shall take
its exit; therefore confess freely thy sins, for to deny tends only to
make me groan under the bitter cup thou hast made for me. Thou art to die
with the name of traitor on thy brow!</p>
<p>A. Then, O Lord, have mercy upon me; give me courage, give me grace and
fortitude to stand this hour of trial.</p>
<p>F. Amen, I say, with all my heart.</p>
<p>A. And, oh, Farcillo, will you have mercy, too? I never intentionally
offended you in all my life, never LOVED Malos, never gave him cause to
think so, as the high court of Justice will acquit me before its tribunal.</p>
<p>F. Oh, false, perjured woman, thou didst chill my blood, and makest me a
demon like thyself. I saw the ring.</p>
<p>A. He found it, then, or got it clandestinely; send for him, and let him
confess the truth; let his confession be sifted.</p>
<p>F. And you still wish to see him! I tell you, madam, he hath already
confessed, and thou knowest the darkness of thy heart.</p>
<p>A. What, my deceived Farcillo, that I gave him the ring, in which all my
affections were concentrated? Oh, surely not.</p>
<p>F. Aye, he did. Ask thy conscience, and it will speak with a voice of
thunder to thy soul.</p>
<p>A. He will not say so, he dare not, he cannot.</p>
<p>F. No, he will not say so now, because his mouth, I trust, is hushed in
death, and his body stretched to the four winds of heaven, to be torn to
pieces by carnivorous birds.</p>
<p>A. What, he is dead, and gone to the world of spirits with that
declaration in his mouth? Oh, unhappy man! Oh, insupportable hour!</p>
<p>F. Yes, and had all his sighs and looks and tears been lives, my great
revenge could have slain them all, without the least condemnation.</p>
<p>A. Alas! he is ushered into eternity without testing the matter for which
I am abused and sentenced and condemned to die.</p>
<p>F. Cursed, infernal woman! Weepest thou for him to my face? He that hath
robbed me of my peace, my energy, the whole love of my life? Could I call
the fabled Hydra, I would have him live and perish, survive and die, until
the sun itself would grow dim with age. I would make him have the thirst
of a Tantalus, and roll the wheel of an Ixion, until the stars of heaven
should quit their brilliant stations.</p>
<p>A. Oh, invincible God, save me! Oh, unsupportable moment! Oh, heavy hour!
Banish me, Farcillo—send me where no eye can ever see me, where no
sound shall ever great my ear; but, oh, slay me not, Farcillo; vent thy
rage and thy spite upon this emaciated frame of mine, only spare my life.</p>
<p>F. Your petitions avail nothing, cruel Amelia.</p>
<p>A. Oh, Farcillo, perpetrate the dark deed tomorrow; let me live till then,
for my past kindness to you, and it may be some kind angel will show to
you that I am not only the object of innocence, but one who never loved
another but your noble self.</p>
<p>F. Amelia, the decree has gone forth, it is to be done, and that quickly;
thou art to die, madam.</p>
<p>A. But half an hour allow me, to see my father and my only child, to tell
her the treachery and vanity of this world.</p>
<p>F. There is no alternative, there is no pause: my daughter shall not see
its deceptive mother die; your father shall not know that his daughter
fell disgraced, despised by all but her enchanting Malos.</p>
<p>A. Oh, Farcillo, put up thy threatening dagger into its scabbard; let it
rest and be still, just while I say one prayer for thee and for my child.</p>
<p>F. It is too late, thy doom is fixed, thou hast not confessed to Heaven or
to me, my child's protector—thou art to die. Ye powers of earth and
heaven, protect and defend me in this alone. (STABS HER WHILE IMPLORING
FOR MERCY.)</p>
<p>A. Oh, Farcillo, Farcillo, a guiltless death I die.</p>
<p>F. Die! die! die!</p>
<p>(Gracia enters running, falls on her knees weeping, and kisses Amelia.)</p>
<p>G. Oh, Farcillo, Farcillo! oh, Farcillo!</p>
<p>F. I am here, the genius of the age, and the avenger of my wrongs.</p>
<p>G. Oh, lady, speak once more; sweet Amelia, on, speak again. Gone, gone—yes,
forever gone! Farcillo, oh, cold-hearted Farcillo, some evil fiend hath
urged you to do this, Farcillo.</p>
<p>F. Say not so again, or you shall receive the same fate. I did the
glorious deed, madam—beware, then, how you talk.</p>
<p>G. I fear not your implements of war; I will let you know you have not the
power to do me harm. If you have a heart of triple brass, it shall be
reached and melted, and thy blood shall chill thy veins and grow stiff in
thy arteries. Here is the ring of the virtuous and innocent murdered
Amelia; I obtained it from Malos, who yet lives, in hopes that he will
survive the wound given him, and says he got it clandestinely—declares
Amelia to be the princess of truth and virtue, invulnerable to anything
like forgetting her first devotion to thee. The world has heard of your
conduct and your jealousy, and with one universal voice declares her to be
the best of all in piety; that she is the star of this great universe, and
a more virtuous woman never lived since the wheels of time began. Oh, had
you waited till tomorrow, or until I had returned, some kind window would
have been opened to her relief. But, alas! she is gone—yes, forever
gone, to try the realities of an unknown world!</p>
<p>(Farcillo leaning over the body of Amelia.)</p>
<p>F. Malos not dead, and here is my ring! Oh, Amelia! falsely murdered! Oh,
bloody deed! Oh, wretch that I am! Oh, angels forgive me! Oh, God,
withhold thy vengeance! Oh, Amelia! if Heaven would make a thousand worlds
like this, set with diamonds, and all of one perfect chrysolite, I would
not have done this for them all, I would not have frowned and cursed as I
did. Oh, she was heavenly true, nursed in the very lap of bright angels!
Cursed slave that I am! Jealousy, oh! thou infernal demon! Lost, lost to
every sense of honor! Oh! Amelia—heaven-born Amelia—dead,
dead! Oh! oh! oh!—then let me die with thee. Farewell! farewell! ye
world that deceived me! (STABS HIMSELF.)</p>
<p>Soon after the excitement of this tragical scene was over, and the
enlisted feeling for Amelia had grown more buoyant with Elfonzo and
Ambulinia, he determined to visit his retired home, and make the necessary
improvements to enjoy a better day; consequently he conveyed the following
lines to Ambulinia:</p>
<p>Go tell the world that hope is glowing,<br/>
<br/>
Go bid the rocks their silence break,<br/>
<br/>
Go tell the stars that love is glowing,<br/>
<br/>
Then bid the hero his lover take.<br/></p>
<p>In the region where scarcely the foot of man hath ever trod, where the
woodman hath not found his way, lies a blooming grove, seen only by the
sun when he mounts his lofty throne, visited only by the light of the
stars, to whom are entrusted the guardianship of earth, before the sun
sinks to rest in his rosy bed. High cliffs of rocks surround the romantic
place, and in the small cavity of the rocky wall grows the daffodil clear
and pure; and as the wind blows along the enchanting little mountain which
surrounds the lonely spot, it nourishes the flowers with the dew-drops of
heaven. Here is the seat of Elfonzo; darkness claims but little victory
over this dominion, and in vain does she spread out her gloomy wings. Here
the waters flow perpetually, and the trees lash their tops together to bid
the welcome visitor a happy muse. Elfonzo, during his short stay in the
country, had fully persuaded himself that it was his duty to bring this
solemn matter to an issue. A duty that he individually owed, as a
gentleman, to the parents of Ambulinia, a duty in itself involving not
only his own happiness and his own standing in society, but one that
called aloud the act of the parties to make it perfect and complete. How
he should communicate his intentions to get a favorable reply, he was at a
loss to know; he knew not whether to address Esq. Valeer in prose or in
poetry, in a jocular or an argumentative manner, or whether he should use
moral suasion, legal injunction, or seizure and take by reprisal; if it
was to do the latter, he would have no difficulty in deciding in his own
mind, but his gentlemanly honor was at stake; so he concluded to address
the following letter to the father and mother of Ambulinia, as his address
in person he knew would only aggravate the old gentleman, and perhaps his
lady.</p>
<p>Cumming, Ga., January 22, 1844</p>
<p>Mr. and Mrs. Valeer—</p>
<p>Again I resume the pleasing task of addressing you, and once more beg an
immediate answer to my many salutations. From every circumstance that has
taken place, I feel in duty bound to comply with my obligations; to
forfeit my word would be more than I dare do; to break my pledge, and my
vows that have been witnessed, sealed, and delivered in the presence of an
unseen Deity, would be disgraceful on my part, as well as ruinous to
Ambulinia. I wish no longer to be kept in suspense about this matter. I
wish to act gentlemanly in every particular. It is true, the promises I
have made are unknown to any but Ambulinia, and I think it unnecessary to
here enumerate them, as they who promise the most generally perform the
least. Can you for a moment doubt my sincerity or my character? My only
wish is, sir, that you may calmly and dispassionately look at the
situation of the case, and if your better judgment should dictate
otherwise, my obligations may induce me to pluck the flower that you so
diametrically opposed. We have sword by the saints—by the gods of
battle, and by that faith whereby just men are made perfect—to be
united. I hope, my dear sir, you will find it convenient as well as
agreeable to give me a favorable answer, with the signature of Mrs.
Valeer, as well as yourself.</p>
<p>With very great esteem,</p>
<p>your humble servant,</p>
<p>J. I. Elfonzo.</p>
<p>The moon and stars had grown pale when Ambulinia had retired to rest. A
crowd of unpleasant thoughts passed through her bosom. Solitude dwelt in
her chamber—no sound from the neighboring world penetrated its
stillness; it appeared a temple of silence, of repose, and of mystery. At
that moment she heard a still voice calling her father. In an instant,
like the flash of lightning, a thought ran through her mind that it must
be the bearer of Elfonzo's communication. "It is not a dream!" she said,
"no, I cannot read dreams. Oh! I would to Heaven I was near that glowing
eloquence—that poetical language—it charms the mind in an
inexpressible manner, and warms the coldest heart." While consoling
herself with this strain, her father rushed into her room almost frantic
with rage, exclaiming: "Oh, Ambulinia! Ambulinia!! undutiful, ungrateful
daughter! What does this mean? Why does this letter bear such
heart-rending intelligence? Will you quit a father's house with this
debased wretch, without a place to lay his distracted head; going up and
down the country, with every novel object that many chance to wander
through this region. He is a pretty man to make love known to his
superiors, and you, Ambulinia, have done but little credit to yourself by
honoring his visits. Oh, wretchedness! can it be that my hopes of
happiness are forever blasted! Will you not listen to a father's
entreaties, and pay some regard to a mother's tears. I know, and I do pray
that God will give me fortitude to bear with this sea of troubles, and
rescue my daughter, my Ambulinia, as a brand from the eternal burning."
"Forgive me, father, oh! forgive thy child," replied Ambulinia. "My heart
is ready to break, when I see you in this grieved state of agitation. Oh!
think not so meanly of me, as that I mourn for my own danger. Father, I am
only woman. Mother, I am only the templement of thy youthful years, but
will suffer courageously whatever punishment you think proper to inflict
upon me, if you will but allow me to comply with my most sacred promises—if
you will but give me my personal right and my personal liberty. Oh,
father! if your generosity will but give me these, I ask nothing more.
When Elfonzo offered me his heart, I gave him my hand, never to forsake
him, and now may the mighty God banish me before I leave him in adversity.
What a heart must I have to rejoice in prosperity with him whose offers I
have accepted, and then, when poverty comes, haggard as it may be, for me
to trifle with the oracles of Heaven, and change with every fluctuation
that may interrupt our happiness—like the politician who runs the
political gantlet for office one day, and the next day, because the
horizon is darkened a little, he is seen running for his life, for fear he
might perish in its ruins. Where is the philosophy, where is the
consistency, where is the charity, in conduct like this? Be happy then, my
beloved father, and forget me; let the sorrow of parting break down the
wall of separation and make us equal in our feeling; let me now say how
ardently I love you; let me kiss that age-worn cheek, and should my tears
bedew thy face, I will wipe them away. Oh, I never can forget you; no,
never, never!"</p>
<p>"Weep not," said the father, "Ambulinia. I will forbid Elfonzo my house,
and desire that you may keep retired a few days. I will let him know that
my friendship for my family is not linked together by cankered chains; and
if he ever enters upon my premises again, I will send him to his long
home." "Oh, father! let me entreat you to be calm upon this occasion, and
though Elfonzo may be the sport of the clouds and winds, yet I feel
assured that no fate will send him to the silent tomb until the God of the
Universe calls him hence with a triumphant voice."</p>
<p>Here the father turned away, exclaiming: "I will answer his letter in a
very few words, and you, madam, will have the goodness to stay at home
with your mother; and remember, I am determined to protect you from the
consuming fire that looks so fair to your view."</p>
<p>Cumming, January 22, 1844.</p>
<p>Sir—In regard to your request, I am as I ever have been, utterly
opposed to your marrying into my family; and if you have any regard for
yourself, or any gentlemanly feeling, I hope you will mention it to me no
more; but seek some other one who is not so far superior to you in
standing.</p>
<p>W. W. Valeer.</p>
<p>When Elfonzo read the above letter, he became so much depressed in spirits
that many of his friends thought it advisable to use other means to bring
about the happy union. "Strange," said he, "that the contents of this
diminutive letter should cause me to have such depressed feelings; but
there is a nobler theme than this. I know not why my MILITARY TITLE is not
as great as that of SQUIRE VALEER. For my life I cannot see that my
ancestors are inferior to those who are so bitterly opposed to my marriage
with Ambulinia. I know I have seen huge mountains before me, yet, when I
think that I know gentlemen will insult me upon this delicate matter,
should I become angry at fools and babblers, who pride themselves in their
impudence and ignorance? No. My equals! I know not where to find them. My
inferiors! I think it beneath me; and my superiors! I think it
presumption; therefore, if this youthful heart is protected by any of the
divine rights, I never will betray my trust."</p>
<p>He was aware that Ambulinia had a confidence that was, indeed, as firm and
as resolute as she was beautiful and interesting. He hastened to the
cottage of Louisa, who received him in her usual mode of pleasantness, and
informed him that Ambulinia had just that moment left. "Is it possible?"
said Elfonzo. "Oh, murdered hours! Why did she not remain and be the
guardian of my secrets? But hasten and tell me how she has stood this
trying scene, and what are her future determinations." "You know," said
Louisa, "Major Elfonzo, that you have Ambulinia's first love, which is of
no small consequence. She came here about twilight, and shed many precious
tears in consequence of her own fate with yours. We walked silently in yon
little valley you see, where we spent a momentary repose. She seemed to be
quite as determined as ever, and before we left that beautiful spot she
offered up a prayer to Heaven for thee." "I will see her then," replied
Elfonzo, "though legions of enemies may oppose. She is mine by
foreordination—she is mine by prophesy—she is mine by her own
free will, and I will rescue her from the hands of her oppressors. Will
you not, Miss Louisa, assist me in my capture?"</p>
<p>"I will certainly, by the aid of Divine Providence," answered Louisa,
"endeavor to break those slavish chains that bind the richest of prizes;
though allow me, Major, to entreat you to use no harsh means on this
important occasion; take a decided stand, and write freely to Ambulinia
upon this subject, and I will see that no intervening cause hinders its
passage to her. God alone will save a mourning people. Now is the day and
now is the hour to obey a command of such valuable worth." The Major felt
himself grow stronger after this short interview with Louisa. He felt as
if he could whip his weight in wildcats—he knew he was master of his
own feelings, and could now write a letter that would bring this
litigation to AN ISSUE.</p>
<p>Cumming, January 24, 1844.</p>
<p>Dear Ambulinia—</p>
<p>We have now reached the most trying moment of our lives; we are pledged
not to forsake our trust; we have waited for a favorable hour to come,
thinking your friends would settle the matter agreeably among themselves,
and finally be reconciled to our marriage; but as I have waited in vain,
and looked in vain, I have determined in my own mind to make a proposition
to you, though you may think it not in accord with your station, or
compatible with your rank; yet, "sub loc signo vinces." You know I cannot
resume my visits, in consequence of the utter hostility that your father
has to me; therefore the consummation of our union will have to be sought
for in a more sublime sphere, at the residence of a respectable friend of
this village. You cannot have an scruples upon this mode of proceeding, if
you will but remember it emanates from one who loves you better than his
own life—who is more than anxious to bid you welcome to a new and
happy home. Your warmest associates say come; the talented, the learned,
the wise, and the experienced say come;—all these with their friends
say, come. Viewing these, with many other inducements, I flatter myself
that you will come to the embraces of your Elfonzo; for now is the time of
your acceptance of the day of your liberation. You cannot be ignorant,
Ambulinia, that thou art the desire of my heart; its thoughts are too
noble, and too pure, to conceal themselves from you. I shall wait for your
answer to this impatiently, expecting that you will set the time to make
your departure, and to be in readiness at a moment's warning to share the
joys of a more preferable life. This will be handed to you by Louisa, who
will take a pleasure in communicating anything to you that may relieve
your dejected spirits, and will assure you that I now stand ready,
willing, and waiting to make good my vows.</p>
<p>I am, dear Ambulinia, your</p>
<p>truly, and forever,</p>
<p>J. I. Elfonzo.</p>
<p>Louisa made it convenient to visit Mr. Valeer's, though they did not
suspect her in the least the bearer of love epistles; consequently, she
was invited in the room to console Ambulinia, where they were left alone.
Ambulinia was seated by a small table—her head resting on her hand—her
brilliant eyes were bathed in tears. Louisa handed her the letter of
Elfonzo, when another spirit animated her features—the spirit of
renewed confidence that never fails to strengthen the female character in
an hour of grief and sorrow like this, and as she pronounced the last
accent of his name, she exclaimed, "And does he love me yet! I never will
forget your generosity, Louisa. Oh, unhappy and yet blessed Louisa! may
you never feel what I have felt—may you never know the pangs of
love. Had I never loved, I never would have been unhappy; but I turn to
Him who can save, and if His wisdom does not will my expected union, I
know He will give me strength to bear my lot. Amuse yourself with this
little book, and take it as an apology for my silence," said Ambulinia,
"while I attempt to answer this volume of consolation." "Thank you," said
Louisa, "you are excusable upon this occasion; but I pray you, Ambulinia,
to be expert upon this momentous subject, that there may be nothing
mistrustful upon my part." "I will," said Ambulinia, and immediately
resumed her seat and addressed the following to Elfonzo:</p>
<p>Cumming, Ga., January 28, 1844.</p>
<p>Devoted Elfonzo—</p>
<p>I hail your letter as a welcome messenger of faith, and can now say truly
and firmly that my feelings correspond with yours. Nothing shall be
wanting on my part to make my obedience your fidelity. Courage and
perseverance will accomplish success. Receive this as my oath, that while
I grasp your hand in my own imagination, we stand united before a higher
tribunal than any on earth. All the powers of my life, soul, and body, I
devote to thee. Whatever dangers may threaten me, I fear not to encounter
them. Perhaps I have determined upon my own destruction, by leaving the
house of the best of parents; be it so; I flee to you; I share your
destiny, faithful to the end. The day that I have concluded upon for this
task is SABBATH next, when the family with the citizens are generally at
church. For Heaven's sake let not that day pass unimproved: trust not till
tomorrow, it is the cheat of life—the future that never comes—the
grave of many noble births—the cavern of ruined enterprise: which
like the lightning's flash is born, and dies, and perishes, ere the voice
of him who sees can cry, BEHOLD! BEHOLD!! You may trust to what I say, no
power shall tempt me to betray confidence. Suffer me to add one word more.</p>
<p>I will soothe thee, in all thy grief,<br/>
<br/>
Beside the gloomy river;<br/>
<br/>
And though thy love may yet be brief;<br/>
<br/>
Mine is fixed forever.<br/></p>
<p>Receive the deepest emotions of my heart for thy constant love, and may
the power of inspiration by thy guide, thy portion, and thy all. In great
haste,</p>
<p>Yours faithfully,</p>
<p>Ambulinia.</p>
<p>"I now take my leave of you, sweet girl," said Louisa, "sincerely wishing
you success on Sabbath next." When Ambulinia's letter was handed to
Elfonzo, he perused it without doubting its contents. Louisa charged him
to make but few confidants; but like most young men who happened to win
the heart of a beautiful girl, he was so elated with the idea that he felt
as a commanding general on parade, who had confidence in all, consequently
gave orders to all. The appointed Sabbath, with a delicious breeze and
cloudless sky, made its appearance. The people gathered in crowds to the
church—the streets were filled with neighboring citizens, all
marching to the house of worship. It is entirely useless for me to attempt
to describe the feelings of Elfonzo and Ambulinia, who were silently
watching the movements of the multitude, apparently counting them as then
entered the house of God, looking for the last one to darken the door. The
impatience and anxiety with which they waited, and the bliss they
anticipated on the eventful day, is altogether indescribable. Those that
have been so fortunate as to embark in such a noble enterprise know all
its realities; and those who have not had this inestimable privilege will
have to taste its sweets before they can tell to others its joys, its
comforts, and its Heaven-born worth. Immediately after Ambulinia had
assisted the family off to church, she took advantage of that opportunity
to make good her promises. She left a home of enjoyment to be wedded to
one whose love had been justifiable. A few short steps brought her to the
presence of Louisa, who urged her to make good use of her time, and not to
delay a moment, but to go with her to her brother's house, where Elfonzo
would forever make her happy. With lively speed, and yet a graceful air,
she entered the door and found herself protected by the champion of her
confidence. The necessary arrangements were fast making to have the two
lovers united—everything was in readiness except the parson; and as
they are generally very sanctimonious on such occasions, the news got to
the parents of Ambulinia before the everlasting knot was tied, and they
both came running, with uplifted hands and injured feelings, to arrest
their daughter from an unguarded and hasty resolution. Elfonzo desired to
maintain his ground, but Ambulinia thought it best for him to leave, to
prepare for a greater contest. He accordingly obeyed, as it would have
been a vain endeavor for him to have battled against a man who was armed
with deadly weapons; and besides, he could not resist the request of such
a pure heart. Ambulinia concealed herself in the upper story of the house,
fearing the rebuke of her father; the door was locked, and no chastisement
was now expected. Esquire Valeer, whose pride was already touched,
resolved to preserve the dignity of his family. He entered the house
almost exhausted, looking wildly for Ambulinia. "Amazed and astonished
indeed I am," said he, "at a people who call themselves civilized, to
allow such behavior as this. Ambulinia, Ambulinia!" he cried, "come to the
calls of your first, your best, and your only friend. I appeal to you,
sir," turning to the gentleman of the house, "to know where Ambulinia has
gone, or where is she?" "Do you mean to insult me, sir, in my own house?"
inquired the gentleman. "I will burst," said Mr. V., "asunder every door
in your dwelling, in search of my daughter, if you do not speak quickly,
and tell me where she is. I care nothing about that outcast rubbish of
creation, that mean, low-lived Elfonzo, if I can but obtain Ambulinia. Are
you not going to open this door?" said he. "By the Eternal that made
Heaven and earth! I will go about the work instantly, if this is not
done!" The confused citizens gathered from all parts of the village, to
know the cause of this commotion. Some rushed into the house; the door
that was locked flew open, and there stood Ambulinia, weeping. "Father, be
still," said she, "and I will follow thee home." But the agitated man
seized her, and bore her off through the gazing multitude. "Father!" she
exclaimed, "I humbly beg your pardon—I will be dutiful—I will
obey thy commands. Let the sixteen years I have lived in obedience to thee
by my future security." "I don't like to be always giving credit, when the
old score is not paid up, madam," said the father. The mother followed
almost in a state of derangement, crying and imploring her to think
beforehand, and ask advice from experienced persons, and they would tell
her it was a rash undertaking. "Oh!" said she, "Ambulinia, my daughter,
did you know what I have suffered—did you know how many nights I
have whiled away in agony, in pain, and in fear, you would pity the
sorrows of a heartbroken mother."</p>
<p>"Well, mother," replied Ambulinia, "I know I have been disobedient; I am
aware that what I have done might have been done much better; but oh! what
shall I do with my honor? it is so dear to me; I am pledged to Elfonzo.
His high moral worth is certainly worth some attention; moreover, my vows,
I have no doubt, are recorded in the book of life, and must I give these
all up? must my fair hopes be forever blasted? Forbid it, father; oh!
forbid it, mother; forbid it, Heaven." "I have seen so many beautiful
skies overclouded," replied the mother, "so many blossoms nipped by the
frost, that I am afraid to trust you to the care of those fair days, which
may be interrupted by thundering and tempestuous nights. You no doubt
think as I did—life's devious ways were strewn with sweet-scented
flowers, but ah! how long they have lingered around me and took their
flight in the vivid hope that laughs at the drooping victims it has
murdered." Elfonzo was moved at this sight. The people followed on to see
what was going to become of Ambulinia, while he, with downcast looks, kept
at a distance, until he saw them enter the abode of the father, thrusting
her, that was the sigh of his soul, out of his presence into a solitary
apartment, when she exclaimed, "Elfonzo! Elfonzo! oh, Elfonzo! where art
thou, with all thy heroes? haste, oh! haste, come thou to my relief. Ride
on the wings of the wind! Turn thy force loose like a tempest, and roll on
thy army like a whirlwind, over this mountain of trouble and confusion.
Oh, friends! if any pity me, let your last efforts throng upon the green
hills, and come to the relief of Ambulinia, who is guilty of nothing but
innocent love." Elfonzo called out with a loud voice, "My God, can I stand
this! arise up, I beseech you, and put an end to this tyranny. Come, my
brave boys," said he, "are you ready to go forth to your duty?" They stood
around him. "Who," said he, "will call us to arms? Where are my
thunderbolts of war? Speak ye, the first who will meet the foe! Who will
go forward with me in this ocean of grievous temptation? If there is one
who desires to go, let him come and shake hands upon the altar of
devotion, and swear that he will be a hero; yes, a Hector in a cause like
this, which calls aloud for a speedy remedy." "Mine be the deed," said a
young lawyer, "and mine alone; Venus alone shall quit her station before I
will forsake one jot or tittle of my promise to you; what is death to me?
what is all this warlike army, if it is not 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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>"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, and our blood alone shall tell the
mournful tale of a murdered daughter and a ruined father." Sure enough, he
kept watch all night, and was successful in defending his house and
family. The bright morning gleamed upon the hills, night vanished away,
the Major and his associates felt somewhat ashamed that they had not been
as fortunate as they expected to have been; however, they still leaned
upon their arms in dispersed groups; some were walking the streets, others
were talking in the Major's behalf. Many of the citizen suspended
business, as the town presented nothing but consternation. A novelty that
might end in the destruction of some worthy and respectable citizens. Mr.
Valeer ventured in the streets, though not without being well armed. Some
of his friends congratulated him on the decided stand he had taken, and
hoped he would settle the matter amicably with Elfonzo, without any
serious injury. "Me," he replied, "what, me, condescend to fellowship with
a coward, and a low-lived, lazy, undermining villain? no, gentlemen, this
cannot be; I had rather be borne off, like the bubble upon the dark blue
ocean, with Ambulinia by my side, than to have him in the ascending or
descending line of relationship. Gentlemen," continued he, "if Elfonzo is
so much of a distinguished character, and is so learned in the fine arts,
why do you not patronize such men? why not introduce him into your
families, as a gentleman of taste and of unequaled magnanimity? why are
you so very anxious that he should become a relative of mine? Oh,
gentlemen, I fear you yet are tainted with the curiosity of our first
parents, who were beguiled by the poisonous kiss of an old ugly serpent,
and who, for one APPLE, DAMNED all mankind. I wish to divest myself, as
far as possible, of that untutored custom. I have long since learned that
the perfection of wisdom, and the end of true philosophy, is to proportion
our wants to our possessions, our ambition to our capacities; we will then
be a happy and a virtuous people." Ambulinia was sent off to prepare for a
long and tedious journey. Her new acquaintances had been instructed by her
father how to treat her, and in what manner, and to keep the anticipated
visit entirely secret. Elfonzo was watching the movements of everybody;
some friends had told him of the plot that was laid to carry off
Ambulinia. At night, he rallied some two or three of his forces, and went
silently along to the stately mansion; a faint and glimmering light showed
through the windows; lightly he steps to the door; there were many voices
rallying fresh in fancy's eye; he tapped the shutter; it was opened
instantly, and he beheld once more, seated beside several ladies, the hope
of all his toils; he rushed toward her, she rose from her seat, rejoicing;
he made one mighty grasp, when Ambulinia exclaimed, "Huzza for Major
Elfonzo! I will defend myself and you, too, with this conquering
instrument I hold in my hand; huzza, I say, I now invoke time's broad wing
to shed around us some dewdrops of verdant spring."</p>
<p>But the hour had not come for this joyous reunion; her friends struggled
with Elfonzo for some time, and finally succeeded in arresting her from
his hands. He dared not injure them, because they were matrons whose
courage needed no spur; she was snatched from the arms of Elfonzo, with so
much eagerness, and yet with such expressive signification, that he calmly
withdrew from this lovely enterprise, with an ardent hope that he should
be lulled to repose by the zephyrs which whispered peace to his soul.
Several long days and night passed unmolested, all seemed to have grounded
their arms of rebellion, and no callidity appeared to be going on with any
of the parties. Other arrangements were made by Ambulinia; she feigned
herself to be entirely the votary of a mother's care, and she, by her
graceful smiles, that manhood might claim his stern dominion in some other
region, where such boisterous love was not so prevalent. This gave the
parents a confidence that yielded some hours of sober joy; they believed
that Ambulinia would now cease to love Elfonzo, and that her stolen
affections would now expire with her misguided opinions. They therefore
declined the idea of sending her to a distant land. But oh! they dreamed
not of the rapture that dazzled the fancy of Ambulinia, who would say,
when alone, youth should not fly away on his rosy pinions, and leave her
to grapple in the conflict with unknown admirers.</p>
<p>No frowning age shall control<br/>
<br/>
The constant current of my soul,<br/>
<br/>
Nor a tear from pity's eye<br/>
<br/>
Shall check my sympathetic sigh.<br/></p>
<p>With this resolution fixed in her mind, one dark and dreary night, when
the winds whistled and the tempest roared, she received intelligence that
Elfonzo was then waiting, and every preparation was then ready, at the
residence of Dr. Tully, and for her to make a quick escape while the
family was reposing. Accordingly she gathered her books, went the wardrobe
supplied with a variety of ornamental dressing, and ventured alone in the
streets to make her way to Elfonzo, who was near at hand, impatiently
looking and watching her arrival. "What forms," said she, "are those
rising before me? What is that dark spot on the clouds? I do wonder what
frightful ghost that is, gleaming on the red tempest? Oh, be merciful and
tell me what region you are from. Oh, tell me, ye strong spirits, or ye
dark and fleeting clouds, that I yet have a friend." "A friend," said a
low, whispering voice. "I am thy unchanging, thy aged, and thy
disappointed mother. Why brandish in that hand of thine a javelin of
pointed steel? Why suffer that lip I have kissed a thousand times to
equivocate? My daughter, let these tears sink deep into thy soul, and no
longer persist in that which may be your destruction and ruin. Come, my
dear child, retract your steps, and bear me company to your welcome home."
Without one retorting word, or frown from her brow, she yielded to the
entreaties of her mother, and with all the mildness of her former
character she went along with the silver lamp of age, to the home of
candor and benevolence. Her father received her cold and formal politeness—"Where
has Ambulinia been, this blustering evening, Mrs. Valeer?" inquired he.
"Oh, she and I have been taking a solitary walk," said the mother; "all
things, I presume, are now working for the best."</p>
<p>Elfonzo heard this news shortly after it happened. "What," said he, "has
heaven and earth turned against me? I have been disappointed times without
number. Shall I despair?—must I give it over? Heaven's decrees will
not fade; I will write again—I will try again; and if it traverses a
gory field, I pray forgiveness at the altar of justice."</p>
<p>Desolate Hill, Cumming, Geo., 1844.</p>
<p>Unconquered and Beloved Ambulinia— I have only time to say to you,
not to despair; thy fame shall not perish; my visions are brightening
before me. The whirlwind's rage is past, and we now shall subdue our
enemies without doubt. On Monday morning, when your friends are at
breakfast, they will not suspect your departure, or even mistrust me being
in town, as it has been reported advantageously that I have left for the
west. You walk carelessly toward the academy grove, where you will find me
with a lightning steed, elegantly equipped to bear you off where we shall
be joined in wedlock with the first connubial rights. Fail not to do this—think
not of the tedious relations of our wrongs—be invincible. You alone
occupy all my ambition, and I alone will make you my happy spouse, with
the same unimpeached veracity. I remain, forever, your devoted friend and
admirer, J. L. Elfonzo.</p>
<p>The appointed day ushered in undisturbed by any clouds; nothing disturbed
Ambulinia's soft beauty. With serenity and loveliness she obeys the
request of Elfonzo. The moment the family seated themselves at the table—"Excuse
my absence for a short time," said she, "while I attend to the placing of
those flowers, which should have been done a week ago." And away she ran
to the sacred grove, surrounded with glittering pearls, that indicated her
coming. Elfonzo hails her with his silver bow and his golden harp. They
meet—Ambulinia's countenance brightens—Elfonzo leads up his
winged steed. "Mount," said he, "ye true-hearted, ye fearless soul—the
day is ours." She sprang upon the back of the young thunder bolt, a
brilliant star sparkles upon her head, with one hand she grasps the reins,
and with the other she holds an olive branch. "Lend thy aid, ye strong
winds," they exclaimed, "ye moon, ye sun, and all ye fair host of heaven,
witness the enemy conquered." "Hold," said Elfonzo, "thy dashing steed."
"Ride on," said Ambulinia, "the voice of thunder is behind us." And onward
they went, with such rapidity that they very soon arrived at Rural
Retreat, where they dismounted, and were united with all the solemnities
that usually attend such divine operations. They passed the day in
thanksgiving and great rejoicing, and on that evening they visited their
uncle, where many of their friends and acquaintances had gathered to
congratulate them in the field of untainted bliss. The kind old gentleman
met them in the yard: "Well," said he, "I wish I may die, Elfonzo, if you
and Ambulinia haven't tied a knot with your tongue that you can't untie
with your teeth. But come in, come in, never mind, all is right—the
world still moves on, and no one has fallen in this great battle."</p>
<p>Happy now is there lot! Unmoved by misfortune, they live among the fair
beauties of the South. Heaven spreads their peace and fame upon the arch
of the rainbow, and smiles propitiously at their triumph, THROUGH THE
TEARS OF THE STORM.</p>
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