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the whate wouldn't be beautiful, and a boat sailing under secret orders ; for, great plenty of it.” It was at the end by this time, the whole broadside of the of a week that the ship which Barny vessel was crowded with grinning had hitherto kept a-head of him, shewed mouths and wondering eyes at Barny symptoms of bearing down upon him, and his boat. as he thought, and, sure enough, she « Oh, its a thrifle makes fools laugh,” did, and Barny began to conjecture said Barny. what the deuce the ship could want “ Take care, my fine fellow, that with him, and commenced inventing you don't be laughing at the wrong side answers to the questions he thought it of your mouth before long, for I've a possible might be put to him in case notion that you're cursedly in the the ship spoke him. He was soon put wrong box, as cunning a fellow as you out of suspense by being hailed and think yourself. D-n your stupid head ordered to run under her lee, and the can't you tell what brings you here? Captain, looking over the quarter, Why thin, by gor one id think the asked Barny where he was going? whole say belonged to you, you're so
“ Faith then I'm goin' an my busi- mighty bowld in axin questions an it. ness,” said Barny.
Why tarean ouns, sure I've as much right “ But where ?" said the Captain. to be here as you, though I haven't
“ Why sure an it's no matther where as big a ship nor as fine a coat-but a poor man like me id be goin," said maybe I can take as good sailin' out o' Barny.
the one and has as bowld a heart Only I'm curious to know what the under th' other.” deuce youve been following my ship “ Very well,” said the Captain, “ I for, for the last week ?"
see there's no use in talking to you, so Follyin' your ship!- Why thin, go to the d— your own way.” And blur an agers, do you think it's follyin' away bore the ship, leaving Barny in yiz I am ?
indignation and his companions in “ It's very like it,” said the Captain wonder.
Why, did two people niver thravel “ An why wouldn't you tell him ?" the same road before?
said they to Barny. “ I don't say they did'nt; but there's Why, don't you see,” said Barny, a great difference between a ship of whose object was now to blind them, 700 tons and a hooker.”
“ don't you see, how do I know but “ Oh as for that matther," said Barny, maybe he might be goin' to the same “ the same high road sarves a coach place himself, and maybe has a cargo and four and a low-back car; the thra- of scalpeens as well as uz, and wants to vellin' tinker an' a lord a' horseback." get before us there."
“ That's very true," said the Captain, “ Thrue for you, Barny," said they. " but the cases are not the same, Paddy, “ By dad you're right. And their and I can't conceive what the devil enquiries being satisfied, the day passed brings you here.
as former ones had done, in pursuing “ And who ax'd you to consayve any the course of the ship. thing about it?" asked Barny somewhat In four days more, however, the prosturdily.
visions in the hooker began to fail, and “ D-n me if I can imagine what they were obliged to have recourse to you're about, my fine fellow," said the the scalpeens for sustenance, and Barny Captain," and my own notion is, that then got seriously uneasy at the length you don't know where the d—1 you're of the voyage, and the still likely greater going yourself.
length, for anything he could see to the “O baithershin.” said Barny with contrary, and urged at last by his own a laugh of derision.
alarms and those of his companions, he Why then do you object to tell ?" was enabled, as the wind was light, to said the Captain.
gain on the ship, and when he found Arrah sure, Captain, an' don't you himself alongside, he demanded a parknow that sometimes vessels is bound ley with the Captain. to sail undher saycret ordhers ?” said The Captain, on hearing that the Barny, endeavouring to foil the ques “ hardy hooker," as she got christened, tion by badinage.
was under his lee, came on deck, and as There was a universal laugh from the soon as he appeared Barny cried outdeck of the ship at the idea of a fishing “ Why thi., blur an agers, Captain
dear, do you expec' to be there soon ?” “Why, thin, your honor, to tell God's
Where?" said the Captain. thruth, I heerd you wor goin' there, an " Oh, you know yourself,” said as I wanted to go there too, I thought Barny.
I couldn't do better nor to folly a * It's well for me I do,” said the knowledgable gintleman like yourself, Captain.
and save myself the throuble iv findin' - Thrue for you indeed, your honor," it out." said Barny, in his most insinuating tone. “ And where do you think I am * but whin will you be at the ind o' going ?" said the Captain. your voyage, Captain jewel ?"
" Why, thin," said Barny, “Isn't it * I dare say in about three months,” to Fingal ?" said the Captain.
“ No," said the Captain,
'tis to "Oh, Holy Mother!" ejaculated Bengal.” Barny, “ three months-arrah it's “Oh! Gog's blakey !” said Barny, jokin' you are Captain dear, and only " What'll I do now at all at all ?" want to freken me.” * How should I frighten you !" asked
(End of Chap. I.) the Captain,
The Indians report that the Inca Viracocha was the author of the prophecy which foretold the invasion of the Spaniards, and was preserved among the archives of the Kings of Peru. In effect it would appear to have been accomplished, at the close of the reign of one of his descendants, supposed to have obtained illegal possession of the throne, in the conquest of the Peruvian empire, the destruction of its idolatry, and finally, its total subversion by the Spanish army under Piçarro.
“ Why amid scenes where desolation reigns,
Has thus my fancy chosen to abide ?
At whose departure it so oft has sigh’d ;
It cannot find some dear remember'd joys,
Leaves a faint trace oblivion ne'er destroys.
Around each thought and feeling of my breast,
From losing all with which its hopes were blest ;
As clouds the spirit in its night of care,
And tints my strain with the sad hues they wear.
That robes at moon-rise the autumnal sky,
And fraught with sweet, tho' pensive reverie.
Morning is grand, when the unclouded sun
Spans the great arch of Heav'n with golden ray,
The wide dominions of declining day.
For then, beneath the star-enamell’d sphere,
There reigns around a stillness of repose
When with the tide of grief the heart o'erflows.
And o'er the hills and valley of Yukay, *
Moonlight is spreading now a silvery veil,
Betrays the wooing of the nightingale.
The gentle airs, how balmily they breathe,
Rifing their odours from the fragrant flowers,
Around the loveliest of Indian bowers.
The marble grot, the ever-verdant grove,
The winding river, and the sparkling rill-
Ev'n in their ruin how enchanting still.
Yet some there are o'er whom such spells
Can exercise no influence ;
Some latent anguish, so intense,
Around this fair romantic spot,
Had seen its charms, and felt them not.
From whence unseen the jewel fell,
What minds us of our loss too well
Lightly reck’d Aza then, if all
Were shrouded in the gloomy pall
'Twas here, amid its blooming bowers,
Oh! far beyond all after hours,
• « The valley of Yukay is the most delightful spot in all Peru ; having for that reason been chosen by all the kings from the time of Manco Capac, (the first Inca,) as their place of recreation, to which they retired often to divert themselves, by a temporary relief, from the toils and fatigues of government.”—Rycaut.
When first young Beauty's artless tone
The words that in the effort die,
To check each wild emotion's rush, And feeling speaks by symbol-tears,
And its mute oracle, à blush. They met-could Aza's glances fail To pierce the texture of her veil, That scarce conceald, so finely wove, Her mild blue eyes that beam'd with love. Fair Zilia, well thy witching form The bosom's fondest hopes could warm ; For never had thy Deity A lovelier worshipper than thee, The soul of grace and symmetry. Nor ever yet more faultless gem
Were gather'd from its native mine, To deck an Inca's diadem,
Than Zilia was each thought of thine. Alas! that fate should seldom bless Those hearts that cannot love the less,
Tho' doom'd to be divided here, And wander thro’ life's wilderness
Perchance for many a weary year; Consign'd to that sad solitude
Which the despairing ever feel, Whose grief is every hour renew'd,
Beyond the flight of time to heal, Who oft upon his rapid wings The balm of consolation brings. In sooth it is a deadly blow, And mourn’d with many a shade of woc, When first the young and ardent breast With one dear object is impressid, And when its cherish'd hopes are wreck'd By cold unkindness and neglect ;
But deeper and more deadly far, Comes destiny's rude shock to sever
Two love-link'd spirits, and to mar Their peace and happiness for ever.
Thus bright and brief was Aza's dream Of transport in his love requited,
Transient as the electric beam
The glance of an unhallowed eye,
Blooming within its native bower;
For Zilia dwells no longer there, In vain, alas ! may Aza roam,
He seeks for hope, and meets despair. Oh! that the breast should e'er be steel'd
Against another's agony,
Last aught its flow should profit by ;
That there are hearts, o'er which the dews
Of pity ever vainly fall,
To hear the voice of sorrow's call.
Nay, it has ever been the pride
Love never liv’d, or early died,
And thus the dark Huascar bore
The maiden in whose eyes he wore
Now in the Temple of the Sun,
Dwells Zilia—but how dimly on
In sooth they could but ill accord
Woo'd by a tyrant she abhorr'd,
And must she to such bidding yield?
*To be the reigning Inca's bride.
If once upon the earth it light.
And wing to Heaven its airy flight,
Beyond thy gorgeous dungeon soar ;
The loud | Haylli had ceascd--no more
In measured interval,
The sylph-like footsteps fall.
According to the Peruvian code of laws respecting their religious rights and ceremonies, the Inca had the appointment of the Chief Priestess of the temple, who was obliged to become also the Inca's wife.
+ Cozco was the imperial city of Peru, in the midst of which upon a lofty eminence was built the celebrated Temple of the Sun, commanding an extensive prospect of the adjacent country.
# All their songs were panegyrics in praise of the Sun, and called Haylli, i.e. triumph, with these they intermixed the quick and acute sayings of discreet lovers, commencing and concluding every stanza with the word Haylli.—Rycaut.