"Your mistress, my pretty maid--is she dressed?"
"No, my lady."
"See what havoc these girls have wrought with my stomacher! Pick me up
the jewels, Barbara, if your mistress can spare you such brief time."
"I was not with her, my lady: she said she would call when I was wanted.
I can hear her in this chamber."
While Barbara was gathering the jewels, her tears fell fast upon them.
Lady Frances observed it, and smiling said,-"You are gemming my ornaments, setting them in crystal instead of
gold."
"I can't help my tears, dear lady, when I think how she weeps. Oh, it is
a mournful thing to see an oak bend like a willow, or a stately rose low
as a little wild flower! Something has crushed her heart, and I cannot
help her. I would lay down my life to make her happy, if I knew but how!
The very dogs hang their tails, and steal across the rooms they used to
gambol in! Ah, madam, she has wealth, and rank, and all that a poor girl
would call great glory. Yet her step is like the step of an aged woman,
and her head is bent, though not with the weight of years. I think of a
little poem I knew when I was a child. I believe I heard it before I
could speak the words thereof, yet it is so perfect on my mind. Did you
ever hear it, madam? it is called 'The Lady of Castile.'"
"Never; but I should like to hear it, Barbara, while you hook on the
diamonds those careless minxes scattered so heedlessly. What tune is it
to?"
"I know not the tune, madam; nor could I sing it now if I did. I often
wonder how the birds can sing when they lose their mates; though their
notes are not, as at other times, cheery; and no wonder. It's very cruel
to kill poor innocent birds."
"Let me hear the ballad, Barbara."
"I fear me, it has gone out of my head; but, madam, it began thus,
something after a popish fashion; but no harm, no great harm in it:-"'The lady was of noble birth,
And fairest in Castile,
And many suitors came to her----' And many suitors came to her," repeated Barbara. "I forget
the last line, but it ended with 'feel.' I am sorry, madam, that I have
lost the words, quite lost them to-day, though I could have said them
all yesterday. But the lady had many sweethearts, as my lady had, and
like my lady sent them all away; only she was over nice. And she made up
her mind at last to marry one whose name was ill thought of, and her
wedding day was fixed; and the night before, as she was sleeping, who
should visit her (it is here comes the Popery) but the Virgin? And the
Virgin gave her her hand, and led her to a beautiful grove; and this
grove was filled with the most beautiful birds in the world; and the
Virgin said to her, take any one of these birds that you choose, and
keep it as your own; and you may walk to the end of the grove and take
any one you meet; but you must choose it before you come back, and not
come back without one; you must not have the power to take one after you
begin to return. And the bird you take will be lord of your estates, and
of yourself, and the eyes of all Castile will be upon him. And the lady
was very beautiful, as beautiful as my lady, only not good or
well-taught like her. If she had been, she would not have believed in
the Virgin. So the lady walked on and on, and the sweet birds were
singing to her, and courting her, and striving to win her favour all the
way. They were such birds as I never heard of but in that song--with
diamond eyes, and ruby wings, and feet of pearl; but she found some
fault with every one she met, and fancied she might find a better before
her walk was done. And, behold! at last she got to the end of the grove
without having made any choice; and what think you, my lady, sat there?
why a black vulture, a wicked, deceitful, cruel bird. And she was forced
to take him. She had passed by many good and beautiful, and their sweet
songs still sounded in her ears; yet she was forced to take that hideous
and cruel bird. Only think, my lady, how horrid! The poor lady of
Castile awoke, and began thinking what the dream could mean; and after
praying awhile, she remembered how much she wished in her sleep that she
had taken the first bird she saw. And it brought back to her mind the
companion of her youth, who had loved her long, and she likened this
gallant gentleman to the sweet bird of her dream. So she put away him
whose name was ill thought of, and wedded the knight who had loved her
long. And so the song finishes with "'Happy lady of Castile!'"