One more legend, and then, gentle Reader, "A merry Christmas to you and a happy New Year!"—We have travelled over many lands together, and had many a good-humoured laugh by the way;—if we have, occasionally, been "more merry than wise," at least we have not jostled our neighbours on the road,—much less have we kicked any one into a ditch.
So wishing you heartily all the compliments of the season,—and thanking you cordially for your good company, I, Thomas Ingoldsby, bid you heartily farewell, and leave you in that of
[THE LAY OF ST MEDARD.]
A LEGEND OF AFRIC.
"Heus tu! inquit Diabolus, hei mihi! fessis insuper humeris reponenda est sarcina; fer opem quæso!"
"Le Diable a des vices;—c'est là ce qui le perd.—Il est gourmand. Il eut dans cette minute-là l'idée de joindre l'âme de Medard aux autres âmes qu'il allait emporter.—Se rejeter en arrière, saisir de sa main droite son poignard, et en percer l'outre avec une violence, et une rapidité formidable,—c'est ce que fit Medard.—Le Diable poussa un grand cri. Les âmes délivrés s'enfuirent par l'issue que le poignard venait de leur ouvrir, laissant dans l'outre leurs noirceurs, leurs crimes, et leurs méchancetés," &c. &c.
In good king Dagobert's palmy days, When Saints were many, and sins were few, Old Nick, 'tis said, Was sore bested One evening,—and could not tell what to do.—
He had been East, and he had been West, And far had he journeyed o'er land and sea; For women and men Were warier then, And he could not catch one where he'd now catch three.
He had been North, and he had been South, From Zembla's shores unto far Peru, Ere he fill'd the sack Which he bore on his back— Saints were so many, and sins so few!