"Aucassin," said the lady to him, "do not lament any longer, but come with me. I will show you the thing which you love best in all the world; that is Nicolette, your sweetheart dear, who has come from distant lands to join you again."
Aucassin was very happy.
| [Now they sing it.] |
| When Aucassin has heard This lady's welcome word, That the girl of lovely face, His sweetheart dear, had come To that place, He comes as quick as wind With this lady who could find Her in her home. He comes into the room Where his darling has her seat. When she sees the boy appear, Quickly to his arms she flies To kiss his lips, and kiss his eyes, Her only love, her only dear, And give him welcome sweet. So the evening sped away; And on the morning of another day She was espoused to him there, And so became the Lady of Beaucaire. To both long days of pleasure came,— Pleasure that was aye the same; Nicolette, the happy she, And Aucassin, the happy he. And here will end my little lay, Because I've nothing more to say. |
THE LOST PALACE.
[From the Ingham Papers.]
"Passengers for Philadelphia and New York will change cars."
This annoying and astonishing cry was loudly made in the palace-car "City of Thebes," at Pittsburg, just as the babies were well asleep, and all the passengers adapting themselves to a quiet evening.
"Impossible!" said I mildly to the "gentlemanly conductor," who beamed before me in the majesty of gilt lace on his cap, and the embroidered letters P. P. C. These letters do not mean, as in French, "to take leave," for the peculiarity of this man is, that he does not leave you till your journey's end: they mean, in American, "Pullman's Palace Car." "Impossible!" said I; "I bought my ticket at Chicago through to Philadelphia, with the assurance that the palace-car would go through. This lady has done the same for herself and her children. Nay, if you remember, you told me yourself that the 'City of Thebes' was built for the Philadelphia service, and that I need not move my hat, unless I wished, till we were there."