“Well!” said the old Lord to Vivian, “this must be a very gratifying sight to you! How fortunate that your carriage broke down just at my castle! I think my dear girl is acquitting herself admirably. Ah! Eugene is a happy fellow, and I have no doubt that she will be happy too. The young sailor receives his honours very properly: they are as nice a family as I know. Observe, they are moving off now to make way for the pretty girls and boys. That person in black is our Abbé, as benevolent, worthy a creature as ever lived! and very clever too: you will see in a minute. Now they are going to give us a little bridal chorus, after the old fashion, and it is all the Abbé’s doing. I understand that there is an elegant allusion to my new bridge in it, which I think will please you. Who ever thought that bridge would be opened for my girl’s wedding? Well! I am glad that it was not finished before. But we must be silent’ You will notice that part about the bridge; it is in the fifth verse, I am told, beginning with something about Hymen, and ending with something about roses.”
By this time the procession had formed a semicircle before the tent, the Abbé standing In the middle, with a paper in his hand, and dividing the two hands of choristers. He gave a signal with his cane, and the girls commenced:—
Chorus of Maidens
Hours fly! it is Morn; he has left the bed of love! She follows him with a strained eye when his figure is no longer seen; she leans her head upon her arm. She is faithful to him as the lake to the mountain!
Chorus of Youths
Hours fly! it is Noon; fierce is the restless sun! While he labours he thinks of her! while he controls others he will obey her! A strong man subdued by love is like a vineyard silvered by the moon!
Chorus of Youths and Maidens
Hours fly! it is Eve; the soft star lights him to his home; she meets him as his shadow falls on the threshold! she smiles, and their child, stretching forth its tender hands from its mother’s bosom, struggles to lisp “Father!”
Chorus of Maidens
Years glide! it is Youth; they sit within a secret bower. Purity is in her raptured eyes, Faith in his warm embrace. He must fly! He kisses his farewell: the fresh tears are on her cheek! He has gathered a lily with the dew upon its leaves!