Welcome, melodious nightingale! Whose warbling thrills thro' wood and dale; Still lonely songster of the night, Thy enchanted strains delight Every list'ner's charmed ear, Melodious minstrel, thee to hear!
Again repeat thy vesper song, Echoed these silent woods among; For ever here I'd fondly stay, And gladly listen to thy lay. Is it the force of love so strong That pours thy woodland notes along? Or say, the thrill of lost delight That swells thy song at dismal night! Whate'er, or grief, or love, be giv'n, It sounds like choral peal from heav'n.
Sing on, then sweetest songster dear, Oh still arrest the charmed ear! Through Soignies' wood Tervuren's grove, Still chant the elegies of love!
"Thanks, my Adelaide, for thy sweet verses, I like them much, very much indeed, with the exception, perhaps, of the last line, _the elegies of love_; pray, my dear, you leave such _larmoyantè_ lucubrations to the Hero and Leander of romance, or to their own Ovid; but, oh, let all _his_ 'FASTI' [i. e. festivals] be thine! while succeeding years shall be noted with chalk in the bright calendar of thy days! _Felices ter et ampliùs essint!_--'The elegies of love!' Why thou fain then believest, my Adelaide, that poor Philomela, as the tuneful Maro wrote,[54] pours forth her nightly plaint, and although she so sweetly sings, yet still thou fanciest the thorn of the rose rankles in her breast, while she renews at eve her melancholy song!"
[54] Qualis populeâ moerens Philomela, &c. VIRG. GEOR. 1. IV.
"Such, at least, was the opinion of the poets. But come, Sir David, let us hasten to join our friends, who will wonder what hath become of us."
They now rejoined the duke and duchess, and the carriages and horses having been brought out, they set forth on their return to fair Brussels.
But, alas! according to the Flemish proverb,
"Alle wereldsch Goedaardig is Vergankelyk!"
All worldly good is fleeting and transitory! as we now have but too just occasion to illustrate by facts. The ducal party had scarcely entered upon the road, which is flanked by the thickest and most densely wooded part of Soignies forest, the stillness of the solitude disturbed only by the horse tramps, and the rolling of the duke's carriages, when, upon the sudden, a shrill and loud re-echoing whistle issued from the forest, and was instantly chorused by a number of harsh voices fiercely crying _hui, hieu, huit_; when, almost instantly, a troop of armed horsemen, unquestionably banditti, collecting from different points, thundered in full gallop to where the signal was sounded. The banditti amounted in number to about eleven or twelve, so far indeed as observation could be made amid the darkness of the night, which was then setting in, and increased by the deep and gloomy shadows of the surrounding forest; the confusion too and terror caused by this unexpected appearance, increased by the clamorous screams, and the many females who fainted, at the approaching conflict, which was now beyond a doubt. The banditti came up in full gallop, and forming into ranks, advanced within a few paces of the cavalcade, and intercepting its progress, presented their petronels[55] full-cocked; and one, the leader no doubt, meanwhile fiercely exclaiming in Stentorian voice, '_Basta senors, basta senors!_' then pulling the triggers, discharged their petronels. Opposed to them were the noble company on horseback, and the attending footmen and outriders; these were only armed with long horse-pistols, which, however, told full well, for Sir David Bruce valiantly brought down a brace of the banditti, who soon cowered to earth. The duke wounded two others, who were with difficulty removed. Sir Patricius, albeit, who would have preferred an old acquaintanceship with his Carolus' snuff-box at this hour, was equally as successful.