'Twas midnight in Seville; and faintly shone From one small lamp, a dim uncertain ray Within Murillo's study-all were gone Who there, in pleasant tasks or converse gay, Passed cheerfully the morning hours away; 'T was shadowy gloom, and breathless silence, save, That to sad thoughts and torturing fear a prey, One bright-eyed boy was there-Murillo's little slave. Almost a child-that boy had seen Not thrice five summers yet, Profusely curled; his cheek's dark hue "Alas! what fate is mine!" he said, Perhaps e'en more-the dungeon-cell!" Shed on his humble couch its ray. "I'll sleep no more!" he cried; "and now Before my master comes; for then I shall be but a slave again. He seized a brush-the morning light He cried, "Shall I efface it? No! The terror of the humble slave He touched the brow-the lip-it seemed Of punishment still hanging o'er him; At length 't was finished; rapturously Were there e'en at his side! The terror stricken slave was mute- E'en could he ask it-so he deemed, "You, senor," said the trembling slave. 66 'And more than heard," in kinder tone The painter said: ""T is plainly shown That you have profited." "What (to his pupils) is his meed? Reward or punishment?” "Reward, reward!" they warmly cried. (Sebastian's ear was bent To catch the sounds he scarce believed, But with imploring look received.) But still unmoved Sebastian stood, "Speak!" said Murilio, kindly; "choose Your own reward-what shall it be? Name what you wish, I'll not refuse; Then speak at once and fearlessly." "O! if I dared!"-Sebastian knelt, With strong emotion, shook his soul. "Courage" his master said, and each And then his prayer-breathed fervently— "Him and thyself, my noble boy!" Murillo knew, e'en when the words To fame, that would his own eclipse; As made his name the pride of Spain. -Susan Wilson Words: aspirants-eager learners; converse-conversation, talk; affected-feigned, pretended; essayed-tried. ROLAND'S LAST BATTLE (The most popular poem of the warlike Middle Ages was the Song of Roland*-a pleasing mingling of history and romance. The historical Roland was a captain in the army of Charles the Great, Emperor of the Franks. He fell in battle against the Moors in 788. The legendary Roland was a wonderful warrior, whose brave deeds on many a hard-fought field proved him more than human. This story of Roland's last fight is abridged and adapted from Cox's Popular Romances of the Middle Ages. It is the form used in Baker and Carpenter's Fifth Year Language Reader, and is used by permission of the Macmillan Company, publishers of that book.) HARLES THE GREAT, king of the Franks, had fought CHARLES seven years in Spain, until he had conquered all the land down to the sea, and there remained not a castle whose walls he had not broken down, save only Saragossa,* a fortress on a rugged mountain top, so steep and strong that he could not take it. There dwelt the pagan King Marsilius,* who feared not God, but served Mohammed. King Marsilius sat on his throne in his garden, beneath an olive tree, and summoned his lords and nobles to council. When twenty thousand of his warriors were gathered around him, he spoke to his dukes and counts, saying: "What shall we do? Lo! these seven years the great Charles has been winning all our lands, till only Saragossa remains to.us. We are too few to give him battle, and man for man we are no match for his warriors. What shall we do to save our lands?" Then up spake Blancandrin,* a wily counselor: "It is plain we must be rid of this proud Charles; Spain must be rid of him; and since he is too strong to drive out with the sword, let us see what promises will do. Send envoys to him and say that we will give him great treasure in gold and cattle. Say that we will be his vassals, and do him service at his call. Say that we will forsake our God and call upon his God. Say anything, so long as it will persuade him to ride away with his army and quit our land." And all the pagans said, "It is well spoken." |