When a prince to the fate of a peasant has yielded, The tapestry waves dark round the dim lighted hall; With scutcheons of silver, the coffin is shielded, And pages stand mute by the canopied pall: Thro' the courts at deep midnight, the torches are gleaming, In the proudly arch'd chapel the banners are beaming Far down the long isle sacred music is streaming, Lamenting a chief of the people should fall. But meeter for thee, gentle lover of nature, To lay down thy head like the meek mountain lamb, When wilder'd, he drops from some cliff, huge in stature, And draws his last sob, by the side of his dam; And more stately thy couch, by this desert lake lying, Thy obsequies sung by the grey plover flying, With but one faithful friend to witness thy dying, In the arms of Helvellyn and Catchedecam. SCOTT. THE UNICORN. From the Rev. John Campbell's Narrative of a Second Journey in the Interior of Africa, vol. I. pp. 294-5. During our absence from Mashow, two Rhinoceroses came into the town during the night, when the inhabitants assembled and killed them both. The rhinoceroses, shot by Jager, on the preceding day, having been cut up, were brought, the one in a waggon, the other on pack-oxen. We divided one among Kossie, Munameets, and Pelangye. They brought also the head of one of them, which was different from all the others that had been killed. The common African Rhinoceros has a crooked born resembling a cock's spur, which rises about nine or ten inches above the nose and inclines backwards; immediately behind this is a short thick horn; but the head they brought had a straight horn projecting three feet from the forehead, about ten inches above the tip of the nose. The projection of this great horn very much resembles that of the fanciful Unicorn in the British arms. It has a small thick horny substance, eight inches long, immediately behind it, which can hardly be observed on the animal at the distance of a hundred yards, and seems to be designed for keeping fast that which is penetrated by the long horn; so that this species of rhinoceros must appear really like a unicorn when running in the field. The head resembled in size a nine-gallon cask, and measured three feet from the mouth to the ear, and being much larger than that of the one with the crooked horn, and which measured eleven feet in length, the animal itself must have been still larger and more formidable. From its weight, and the position of the horn, it appears capable of overcoming any creature hitherto known. Hardly any of the natives took the smallest notice of the head, but treated it as a thing familiar to them. As the entire horn is perfectly solid, the natives, I afterwards heard, make from one horn four handles for their battle-axes. Our people wounded another, which they reported to be much larger.* The following extracts, illustrative of the above, are from the Missionary Sketches. The skull and horn excited great curiosity at Cape so great, it appeared necessary to cut off the under jaw The head being so weighty; and the distance to the and leave it behind; (the Mashow who cut off the flesh from it had ten cuts on his back, which were marks for ten men he had killed in his lifetime.) The animal is considered by naturalists, since the arrival of the skull in London, to be the Unicorn of the ancients, and the same as that which is described in the 39th chapter of the book of Job. The part of the head brought to London, may be seen at the Missionary Museum: and, for such as may not have the opportunity of seeing the head itself, the above drawing of it has been made. Cape Town, most scientific persons there being of opinion that it was all that we should have for the Unicorn. An animal of the size of a horse, which the fancied Unicorn is supposed to be, would not answer the description of the Unicorn given in the Sacred Scriptures, where it is described as a very large, ferocious, and untameable creature; but the animal in question exactly answers it in every respect. The Hebrew name by which it is called is Reem, which signifies Might or Strength. The translators I of the Old Testament into Greek called it Monoceros; in the Latin (or Vulgate) translation it is Unicornis. In various countries it bears a name of similar import. In Geez it is called Arwe Harich, and in the Amharic, Auraris, both signifying the large wild beast with the horn.' In Nubia, it is called Girnamgirn, or 'horn upon korn.' This exactly applies to the skull in the Society's Museum, which has a small conical horn behind the long one. From the latter we presume this animal has been denominated the Unicorn, it being the principal, and by far the most prominent horn, the other, as before intimated, being scarcely distinguishable at a short distance. The writer of the article Unicorn,' in the Supplement to the Encyclopedia Britannica, observes, (defining the term) the Scriptural name of an animal, which was undoubtedly the one-horned Rhinoceros.' 'Some authors, both ancient and modern, have described an animal, which they call the Unicorn, said to resemble a horse, or deer, with a long horn, represented in English heraldry as one of the supporters of the royal arms; but there is reason to doubt the existence of any such quadruped. It is probable that the long horn ascribed to such an animal is that of a fish, or, as termed by some, a Sea Unicorn, called the Monodon, or Narwhal, confounding the land and sea animal together. The horn of the fish here alluded to, was formerly imposed on the world as the horn of the Unicorn, at an immense price. On the whole, it seems highly probable that the Rhinoceros, having one long horn projecting from its face, is the only Unicorn existing, and although it has a kind of stump of another horn behind the long projecting one, yet that it has been denominated Unicorn, (or one horn,) from that which is so obvious and prominent; and certainly its great bulk and strength render it such a formidable and powerful animal as is described in the Sacred Scriptures.' Take, O take those lips away,' &c. I cannot positively inform your correspondent who is really the author, but I send you extracts from Percy and Drake, which, if they will in any way satisfy him, are perfectly at his service. Percy, in his Reliques of Ancient English Poetry,' vol. I. p. 243 says, The first stanza of this little sonnet, which an eminent critic justly admires for its sweetness, is found in Shakspeare's Measure for Measure. Both the stanza's are preserved in Beaumont and Fletcher's Bloody Brother. Sewell and Gildon have printed it among Shakspeare's smaller poems; but they have done the same by twenty other pieces, that were never writ by him, their book being a wretched heap of inaccuracies and mistakes. It is not found in Jaggard's old edition of Shakspeare's Passionate Pilgrim,' &c. Drake, in his Literary Hours,' vol. II. p. 95, speaking of Gallus, Joannes Secundus, and Muretus, poets, may be found the origin of that exquisite song observes, that in the Lydia of the first of these of Fletcher, 'Take, O take those lips away,' &c. He also subjoins Fletcher's name to the same poem, in a list of Amatory pieces, vol. II. p. 99. Your's, Manchester, Feb. 20, 1822, J. O. U. Sae, Captain, I perceive,' said a small Scotch broker, with his arm in a sling, who had been listening attentively to the captain's tale, sae I perceive you did escape frae your perilous situation. Gude defend us, I guessed as much, when I cam to think that it was yer ain sel sittin here telling the story. Oh, dear! Captain,' said a fat simpering lady, 'what a cruel creature you are, to raise one's curiosity to so interesting a pitch, and then to leave one in the dark, all for a lady's spirits' painted, from the hand of the stranger to his face The strauger frowned-he lifted the dark masses 'It is it is,' said the stranger, I am Jack Brindle, whom you thought had perished in the cavern. I escaped, long ere, by your own account, you did, and by a much easier outlet. I was washed through the rock, and came out at the foot of the mountain. I joined our ship, they would not stay to search for you, my brave boy, but here you are, and that's enough. But captain, you have got so much of the bully swagger about you, that I should never ha' known ye, but for your tale, but gi' us your hand my boy, I little thought to see you this side o' Davy Jones' Locker.' They seemed so mutually satisfied with each other, and were so wrapped up in the thoughts of lang syne, that we would not interrupt them. 'Young gentleman,' said the simpering lady, to the person who had so pleased me with his singing, 'would you be kind enough to favour us with some story, or tale, for we are all on the fidgets now Aye, Mr. Corny Carroll,' said an old man, do read us that tale you wrote-oh dear! what a frightful one it is.' among the billows, and all again is dark. Such are the tales of the peasantry, respecting *** castle. Many more, of the same kind, have obtained general credence in the adjacent hamlets and villages. To account for the strange appearance just mentioned of the Water Wraith, the cottagers in the neighbourhood tell the following tale. There lived at the castle in former days, a Baron, who had an only daughter named Ella. Her beauty, and riches, made her the magnet of attraction to all the young noblemen and knights in the country, who vied with each other in their assiduities. The Baron put no constraint upon the affections of Ella, whom he dearly loved, though he had discovered her prepossession for Sir Oscar, a young knight of great valour, and splendid accomplishments, but far inferior to his daughter, in birth and riches. Among the candidates for the favours of Ella, was a young Baron named Ulric. He was a man of boundless ambition, and altogether a desperate character. Her matchless beauty, and numerous graces, bore no attractions in his eyes, compared with the increase of domain and power, he should acquire with her. He frequently met her in her solitary walks along the beach, and urged his suit with all the eloquence he was master of; but it was in vain. On such occasions, she would treat him with a respect almost bordering upon tenderness; but it was the effect of fear, and she would immediately quicken her pace The young man, without further solicitation, read towards the castle; she dreaded him from his chaas follows. TALE II. The Water Wraith. On the eastern banks of the ***, where it disembogues it's waters into the ocean, stand the fragments of what was once a noble, and in the olden time, deemed an impregnable castle. Most likely, it was originally built to prevent the inroads of the Danes, at the period when they made their incursions, and committed such dreadful ravages upon our coasts. No vestiges now remain of its ancient grandeur, but a tolerable idea may be formed of its vast magnitude, from the great extent of ground covered by its ruins. That castle has been the scene of many wild and strange events. It is shunned by the simple cottagers who live near it, for, although it has been uninha. bited many ages, except by marine birds, screech 'I'm sure the loss of spirits was on my side owls, or now and then, in stormy nights, by a gang ma'am,' said the other lady dolefully- And equally so on mine ma'am, for which I have to thank you,' said the Captain. of smugglers, they say it is tenanted by the inhabi- 'And how long since may this have happened, of the shuddering north winds, and the hoarser dashCaptain,' said a deep stern voice. I looked at the figure from whom it proceeded. He wore a dark rough coat, closely buttoned to his chin, and had a black patch stuck upon his weatherbeaten face. I had not heard him enter into conversation with any one before. 'How long' repeated he was it since that happened.' Almost four years,' said the Captain. Do you know that hand,' said the stranger, extending his long arm to the Captain, and displaying a right hand, of which the thumb and two fingers were wanting. Do you know that hand.'-The Captain trembled-turned excessively pale, and gazed with an eye in which wonder and astonishment were ing of the waves, brings up the rear of the revolv- racter, which was villanous in the extreme. He was proud, haughty, cruel, and treacherous. Many acts of his cruelty, and instances of his vindictive spirit, were well known: and other crimes, of a deeper dye, were charged to his account. By several, who durst not speak openly, he was supposed to be the instigator, if not the actual murderer of his own father. Time wore away, and the gallant Sir Oscar, and the fair Ella, grew every day more enamoured of each other. At length, a day was fixed for their nuptials. When Ulric heard of this, after receiving a final repulse from Ella, and no encouragement from her father, whom he had secretly solicited to use his paternal influence and authority over her, in his behalf; he vowed the direst revenge on the innocent maiden and her lover. His castle lay several miles further up, on the banks of the same river, deeply embosomed in a gloomy wood of huge oak, and elm trees. At the back lay a range of heathy hills, and in the front was the river, that here glided darkly among the trees which overshadowed it. The castle was known by the name of the Black Tower, not only on account of it's gloomy appearance, but in allusion to the disposition of it's owner, and the dark deeds which had been there transacted. Hither Ulric retired, and secluded himself from all intercourse with mankind, while he ruminated upon his disappointment, and planned his schemes of revenge. In the mean time at *** Castle, preparations for the intended solemnization of the marriage, were going on rapidly. Guests were invited;-the domestics were provided with new liveries; and the great Hall was decorated with all the pomp and splendour suited to the occasion. December was now arrived, in the middle of which, the ceremony was to take place; and, hitherto all had proceeded smoothly, except with the gloomy Ulric. The Baron contemplated the coming event with entire satisfaction. He considered that by it, his daughter would be united to a man who would make her happy through life, and serve in the place of himself for a protector; a situation, which, in the course of nature, he must very soon resign. The gallant Sir Oscar was all impatience for the day, on which he could call the lovely maid his own; and she had nothing to interrupt the peaceful serenity of her mind, save that interesting flutter of thought, which she felt, when pondering upon the important, yet desirable change, about to take place in her condition. A very short time however, before the expected day, as she was returning from a solitary walk along the shore, she was met by Sir Oscar, who, perceiving her to look pale and alarmed, anxiously enquired the cause. GEORGE THE THIRD, It de 31 ing there no smuggling now among you, eh? No excisemen-shooting Lords now?-Bad game, bad Still improving?-Nothing like it-The war needs game. Poor Lord Eglinton had a true taste for agriculture; the county, I have heard, owes him much-- men-Corn is our dragon's teeth-Potatoes do as The humour of this sally tickled our hero as well as the author of it, and they both laughed them selves into greater intimacy. scene from a work just published, entitled brushing the early dew in the Little Park, to taste the She endeavoured for some time to evade giving him the true answer, attributing her paleness to the coldness of the sea breeze, and her alarm to a fear of not reaching home before the fall of night. On being further questioned, however, she informed him the old grey-haired harper, who had arrived at the Castle about a week before, had been the cause of her alarm. She had wandered out in the afternoon, to a considerable distance along the beach, so far as round the headland, where the cliffs commence; when she was suddenly startled, by hearing a soft strain of music proceeding from the rocks at some distance. Mingling with the voice of the waves, and the hoarse raving of the breeze, it fell, sweetly wild and irregular, at intervals upon her ear, and almost overpowered her, with the emotion it caused in her feelings. His eyes were intently fixed upon the vast Somewhat disappointed, but thinking he was still assemblage of waters before him, yet they did not too early for the inmates of a palace, he prolonged seem to occupy his thoughts. There was a kind of his walk towards the meadows; and in stepping over à stile, he saw, close before him, a stout and tall absence in his countenance, that indicated he was elderly man, in a plain blue coat, with scarlet cuff's musing upon distant scenes, or events long gone by, and collar, which at first he took for a livery. There and, heedless of the chilly north wind, that blew his which convinced him that he could not be a servant; was something, however, in the air of the wearer, grey locks upon his fading cheeks, he tuned his harp and an ivory headed cane, circled with gold, which to the most pathetic and mournful strains. She ap-him to conclude that he was either an old officer, or he carried in a sort of negligent poking manner, led proached bim unperceived, and heard him sing the following words, which he accompanied with the harp. added to his learning, in the course of the preceding one of the Poor Knights of Windsor; for he had evening, a knowledge of the existence of this appendage to the noble Order of the Garter. said the embryo courtier to himself, is just the vera thing that I hae been seeking. I'll make up to this decent carl; for nae doubt he's well acquaint with a' about the King,' and he stepped alertly forward. But before he had advanced many paces, the old gentleman turned around and seeing a stranger, stopped; and looking at him for two or three seconds said to himself, loud enough, however, to be heard, Strange man-don't know him--don't know him ;' and then he paused till our hero had come up Oh! feeble now is grown the hand, That band but wakes the harp-string's now; My cheek, and eye, their fire have lost, My battled mansion fair, that stood, Proud glancing o'er the main. In age another land to roam, With footsteps weak and slow: 'This,' Gude-day, sir,' said Wylie as he approached; 'ye're early a-fit on the Sabbath morning; but I'm thinking his Majesty, honest man, sets you a' here an example of sobriety and early rising.' Scotchman, eh!' said the old gentleman; 'fine morning, fine morning, sir-weather warmer here than with you? What part of Scotland do you come from? How do you like Windsor? Come to see the King, eh?' and loudly he made the echoes ring with his laughter. The senator was a little at a loss which question to answer first; but delighted with the hearty freedom of that salutation, jocularly said, It's no easy to answer so many questions all at once; but if ye'll no object to the method, I would say that we guess right, sir, and that I come from the shire of Ayr.' "Ah, shire of Ayr!-a fine county that-good farm stranger here, 66 ་ What like Sir Robert Walpole-not believe not so good as some say to him he is: nor is he so history?-Scotchmen very cautious.' But the old gentleman added, in a graver accent, The King is bad as others say of him. But I know that he has conscientiously endeavoured to do his duty, and the best man can do no more, be their trusts high or low." That, I believe, we a' in general think; even undervalue his talents. But what I wish to know the blacknebs never dispute his honesty, though they ties, but as to his familiar ways and behaviour-the and understand, is no wi' regard to his kingly faculthings in which he is like the generality of the world.' his wonted freedom, very particular, very particular Ha!' said the stranger, briskly relapsing into indeed. What reason, friend, have you to be so particular?-Must have some?-People never so with out reason." 6 subject to inquire what sort of a man the Sovereign is, Surely, Sir, it's a very natural curiosity for a whom he has sworn to honour and obey, and to bear true allegiance with hand and heart.' True, true, true,' exclaimed the old gentleman - Just remark-Come on business to England ?— What business?' 66 here, is to see and learn something about the King. My chief business, in truth, sir, at present I have no other turn in hand at this time.' Turn, turn,' cried the stranger perplexed- gentleman was laughing at the jocular turn which be it?-Much cry, and little wool among them, eh?' is now an old man, and not what I have known him.' Yes, I am one of his oldest servants-Ever since And I dinna doubt,' replied the senator, that you have had an easy post.' 'I have certainly obeyed his will,' cried the stranger, in a lively laughing tone; but changing into a least in this world, it is for you and others to judge.' graver, he added, But what may be my reward, at plied Andrew; for ye seem a man of discretion; and I'm mista'en, then, if it shouldna be liberal,' reMay be some day in Parliament I may call this condoubtless, merit the post ye have so long possessed. versation to mind, for your behoof. The King canna gang far wrang sae lang as he keeps counsel with such flight of the fancy. What's your name?' douce and prudent-like men, even though ye hae a bit The old gentleman looked sharply; but in a moment his countenance resumed its wonted open cheer fulness, and he said, So you are in Parliament, eh? There was not much in this conversation that satisfied our hero; who perceived that it was no easy matter to gain the sort of knowledge which he had come on purpose to procure; and in the irksome humour which this reflection produced, he consumed the morning, loitering in the Park and about the Castle, till his usual breakfast hour, when he returned to the inn. During breakfast in the coffee-room, Andrew learned from some of the other strangers, who were similarly employed, that the best opportunity of seeing the Royal Family was when they went and came from church; for it was not always certain that they would walk on the Terrace in the evening. But,' said he, how am I to know the King? for I diana suppose that his arms are like twa wild beasts, the lion and the unicorn. However, I'll avail mysel of your counselling, and tak my stance as ye advise, at the Royal entrance to St. George's Chapel.' Accordingly, at the proper time he was at the place; but the moment that the carriage with their Majesties drew up, he saw the old gentleman whom he had met in the Park alone with the Queen. His heart sank within him at the sight, and he fled abashed and confounded; for he discovered that it was the King himself, and he shrunk with alarm at the liberties he had taken. The terrors of this idea, however, abated as he returned to London; and when he recalled to recollection all that had passed, he was satisfied his Majesty was not likely to be displeased with him. By the time he reached home, he could, indeed, scarcely refrain from smiling at the adventure, when he thought how completely he had succeeded in the object of bis excursion, at the very time when he was despairing of any success.' CORRESPONDENCE. TO THE EDITOR. SIR,-Antoninus desires to know the meaning of "V. D. M." annexed to a person's name. These letters are the initials of Verbi Dei Minister, Minister of the Word of God. They were formerly in general use as part of the official signature of dissenting ministers, but an abbreviation of the word Minister is now for the most part substituted in their stead. They are an unnecessary addition to a name when the designation "Reverend" is prefixed; and "The Rev. V. D. M." is as tautological an expression as" Mr. Jeremy Jonas, M. A." Antoninus' query suggested the following remarks on the application of the word CLERK. We often find that words change their signification in a course of years, and come to be used in a sense very remote from that which their etymology indicates. The word Clerk may serve for an illustration. It is derived from a Greek work, which signifies heritage, and was originally used to designate a clergyman, and from hence, any learned man, because the clergy were supposed to be the peculiar heritage or property of God. In this sense, however, it is now nearly obsolete, except when annexed to the official signature of a minister of the established church. In its common acceptation it is applied to the person who leads the responses of the congregation in church, V. D. M. | and to any secretary or book-keeper, who is employed to shew the world that the charge is unfounded, and TO THE EDITOR. SIR,-It is certainly somewhat singular, that, in the Approving of your attempt, I cannot but wish it MANCUNIENSIS. THE DRAMA. MANCHESTER DRAMATIC REGISTER. Monday, Feb. 18th-King Henry IV: Falstaff, Mr. Thursday 21st.-The Jew; with Turn Out: Sheva TO CORRESPONDENTS. PATRIARCHAL CHRONOLOGY is deferred for want of room. The favour of R. B. G. is received, and shall appear in our next. Zeno, on Poverty;-M-s, on Eloquence ;-Lapis, on Volcanoes;-The Lines by J. R.;-The Ode, by P. W. H.;Pythias, on Lent ;-M. A. B.;-Kenilworth Castle:T. V.;-A. W. G.;-and many others shall have our early attention. A. ALLDRENCH is requested to again glance over the papers We have this week received numerous Communications re- Manchester: Printed, Published, and Sold, BY HENRY SMITH AND BROTHERS. Oldham, Mr. Lambert. REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS. THE MARTYR OF ANTIOCH: a Dramatic SATURDAY, MARCH 2, 1822. glowing description, simple and affecting tenderness, there are few writers who could have invested it with The story of the Martyr of Antioch is barren, and interest, sufficient for a poem of a hundred lines. A Priestess of Apollo, converted to Christianity, is condemned by her Pagan lover, the Roman Prefect, to suffer death for her crime. Mr. Milman has interwoven some adventitious circumstances with considerable judgement, but the whole does only con Mr. Milman has attained a very elevated rank among the English Poets. He has undoubtedly a great genius, of which his works display most of the characteristick excellencies, not unmingled with some of its faults. The latter may generally be traced to an exuberance of imagination which dilates his senti-stitute a scanty and an imperfect subject. ments, and vents itself in a prodigality of language. This sort of extravagance is more remarkable in his early productions; yet, even now, it is frequently to be observed, and exceedingly enervates the vigour of his poetry. The peculiarity becomes more conspicuous from the circumstance that several of our eminent and popular writers have a habit of condensing and compressing their ideas, in such a manner, as often by a single stroke to produce a wonderful association of images, and call up a vast train of emotions in the mind. The artfulness of this way is very apparent, and its pleasing effects on the reader, are, by no means, unworthy of consideration. The sentiments thus generated do not seem the natural suggestions of the p et. but, having an obvious origin in the reader's mind, he is led to regard them somewhat in the light of his own reflections and commentaries on the text. A two-fold gratification is thus operated within him-one which arises from the author who has awakened these emotions, another which has its spring in himself, as being the source of the pleasures they have excited. Mr. Milman either despises or is ignorant of the advantage of thus leaving some circumstances for the imagination of his readers to supply-and he does not administer to their vanity by allowing them to think that they have improved the conceptions of the poet. He rather delights in shewing how far his own excursive fancy can transport him, and he is sometimes borne upon its wing into regions inexplorable by less aspiring spirits. The scene is at Antioch in the reign of the Emperor Probus. The poem opens, after a hecatomb in honour of Apollo, with a hymn to the same Deity. The solemn rites are duly paid' save that Margarita Priestess, and daughter of the High Priest Callias, is not present. A messenger is sent into the temple to summon her; but she is not there, and the sacred vestments are found dishonourably scattered on the pavement. Her father suspects the Prefect Olybius of being privy to her absence, knowing that she is beloved by him. At this crisis an Embassador arrives from Rome, bearing the Emperor's mandate for the extermination of the Christians, and shortly after Margarita herself appears, and hears the sentence of denunciation against the followers of Christ. Mr. Milman has another fault, attributable to the same excess of imagination. His characters have generally not sufficient identity, or rather the sentiments have not the marked applicability which is especially necessary in dramatick poetry. There are commonly some poetick illustrations which do not altogether assimilate to our ideas of the characters which employ them. This is no trivial blemish; it will always sens bly diminish the excellence of the poem, though it may add strikingly to the beauty of the poetry. Notwithstanding these and some other, slighter, imperfections, Mr. Milman is an admirable poet; he has all the qualities which are requisite to form one. Every thing which he has written attests him to be so; the Apollo Belvidere, Judicium Regale, Fazio, Samor, the Fall of Jerusalem, and the work which we have now before us are, all, splendid evidences of genins and powers of no common order. For lofty and impassioned eloquence, animated and MANY VOICES. Lo, the Priestess! Lo, the Priestess! She hath fall'n down upon her knees: her hair THIRD PRIEST. Haste-haste- MARGARITA. The crown-the crown of glory- There is something highly poetical in a description The maid! Whose living lyre so eloquently speaks, The next scene introduces Margarita passing PRICE 34d. My pearl! my pride! thou knowest my soul is Thine only! on the Parthians' fiery sands Rais'd garlands, every voice dwelt on my name, MARGARITA. Oh! let me onward, Nor hold me thus, nor speak thus fondly to me. Thou strivest still to leave me; go then, go, She arrives at the burial place of the Christians where they have just terminated the obsequies of a brother by a funeral anthem of exquisite pathos. She communicates her sad tidings. FABIUS (Bishop of Antioch). Is it so, my child? Charinus and Calanthias express their triumph, at the awful testimony of their hopes which is awaiting them, with some degree of presumption Fabius checks them. Cease, Calanthias, cease, And thou Charinus. Oh, my brethren, God |