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thee-no; witness for me every minister of light. I never in the agonizing struggles which my love endured e'er tainted with so foul a stain my love-sick breast.-Nay, why affirm it, Mary? It could not be: for had such baseness marked my mind, love had ne'er found sanctuary in this breast of mine.

Yes; D'Anville loved thee, loves thee still.How oft at midnight have I heard him vent the sigh, while from my bosom the responsive groans have numbered out the lingering hours. Ah! little thought my noble friend how watchful was his Chatelar.-How often hath he called me to him-looked on me with a vacant stare-shook me by the trembling hand, and moistened it with his tears. Oh God! the pang of jealousy was then no more; it slept within me harmless as the new-born babe; I pitied the best, the noblest friend and master-yes; tears have mingled fast with his. I knew the solemn truth, and yet, by Him who rules on high, I did not like a dastard triumph in his miseries.--I knew that D'Anville was another's, being bound by the sacred bond of the Divinity—I knew that he was MARRIED! Oh! had I felt within me a spark of gratified malignity, might I then have been accursed for

ever.

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My friend, my Chatelar!" would he exclaim," from thy slumbers have I aroused thee

spon my inelers-Dear what art thou?A dream, a separation from all fanctions of this wrld-bat, that we know our friends in hea ven-shal we love ?-A most be love; therefore my paradise in heaven w be my queen.For her 13 barter all the bliss faturity may have in store; for in the balance they might counterpoise the very heaven of heavens!—————Impiety! | -Who calls me impious?-was I not framed the creature of love; and is not love my religion?-yes; all is love with me, and therefore all futurity may have to grant concentrates in my queen.

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FRAGMENT III.

WHAT have I now to register, but the hateful names of those who are my deadly enemies?-In all the lustre of Aurora dressed, my queen appeared; all Edinborough seemed illumined with the radiance of her charms-I was alone the gloomy object of sullen melancholy-D'Anville too appeared with more than usual grace, and Mary smiled upon him.-Oh! how the daggers pierced my soul, at every glance bestowed upon my friend ;-Hamilton's great Earl was also there, array'd in all the pomp of proud nobility, and with him came his youthful son, the Earl of Arran.*-I marked his eye-I saw the rosy hue

* The young Earl of Arran was one of the lovers of Mary; and, from his rank, and the wealth of his father, he aspired to possess her person, and the crown of Scotland; but the ambitious views of the parent, and the love of the young Earl, were alike unsuccessful, although the boldest steps were put in practice to obtain her.

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mantle his comely face, as he beheld the form of lovely Mary. He approached her, and on his knee made reverence to his queen beside his aged sire. She smiled upon him-yes; raised him with a look of sweet beneficence-I sickened at the sight, and at that instant my fire-flashing eyes fixed on D'Anville.-Oh! if conflicting passions wrung my soul, I had a partner in my sufferings yes!-the Marechal walked hand-inhand with Chatelar in misery.-Where was then the distinction of rank and title-D'Anville, the great, the noble D'Anville, was as wretched as the creature whom he styles his slave?—I hailed the convincing auspice-I bowed more. awestruck before this soul-subduer, this almighty love.-A paleness, like the livery of death, o'erspread the features of my friend-black despair and fiery jealousy shot from his eyes by turns; they were the indexes of his soul; they were emanations of the consuming agonies of Chatelar.

Ah! were this but all, a spotless day amid my calendar of woe would have transpired; but more was left behind to wound the heart of D'Anville; more yet remained to torture the wretched Chatelar.

Amid the splendid crowd came the great Earl of Huntley, and with him the paragon of excellence in man: It was his son, the youthful Gor

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don-Heavens! what majesty was in his port ; his shape was symmetry, and his countenance manly and open as the face of day.-Upon his knees he came to greet his queen; but as he knelt, such grace was in his motion, that had Apollo's self been there, the god had been a Gordon.

Must I note it down?-accursed moment! yes; Mary gazed upon him, looked upon young Gordon,* and with such a glance as spoke inter

John Gordon, the Earl of Huntley's son, was esteemed the handsomest youth in Scotland; and it is recorded, that he was as accomplished in mind as he was perfect in symmetry of form. He fell passionately in love with Mary, and it is pretty obvious from history, that she was not blind to his perfections. The two families of Huntley and Hamilton were consequently inveterate foes, as the two young heirs to the titles both aspired to ally themselves to the queen by the bond of marriage. The intrigues of the court at length precipitated the unfortunate young Gordon into the most daring actions; and having recourse to arms, he was taken prisoner, when Mary was by compulsion obliged to affix her sign manual to the warrant for his execution; and, that it might appear she had never felt a passion for Gordon, his enemies, who had every ascendancy over the unfortunate Mary, forced her to be personally present at the execution: in order to which, she was stationed at a balcony, commanding a view of the horrid scene. The lovely John Gordon, after protesting his unalterable love, and extolling the beauty of Mary, addressed himself to her from the scaffold, saying, that she was the most lovely but cruel of her sex; when, resigning himself to his fate, the

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