se wife, thy end draws
nigh."

From off its chain hath the fierce knight ta'en that fond and fatal
pledge;
His dark eyes blaze, no word he says, thrice gleams his dagger's edge!
Her blood it drinks, and, as she sinks, his victim hears his cry:
"For kiss impure of paramour, adult'ress, dost thou die!"

Silent he stood, with hands embrued in gore, and glance of flame,
As thus her plaint, in accents faint, made his ill-fated dame:
"Kind Heaven can tell, that all too well, I've loved thee, cruel lord;
But now with hate commensurate, assassin, thou'rt abhorred.

"I've loved thee long, through doubt and wrong; I've loved thee and
no other;
And my love was pure for my paramour, for alas! he was my brother!
The Red, Red Rose, on _thy_ banner glows, on _his_ pennon gleams the
White,
And the bitter feud, that ye both have rued, forbids ye to unite.

"My bower he sought, what time he thought thy jealous vassals slept,
Of joy we dreamed, and never deemed that watch those vassals kept;
An hour flew by, too speedily!--that picture was his boon:
Ah! little thrift to me that gift: he left me all too soon!

"Wo worth the hour! dark fates did lower, when our hands were first
united,
For my heart's firm truth, 'mid tears and ruth, with death hast thou
requited:
In prayer sincere, full many a year of my wretched life I've spent;
But to hell's control would I give my soul to work thy chastisement!"

These wild words said, low drooped her head, and Ranulph's
life-blood froze,
For the earth did gape, as an awful shape from out its depths arose:
"Thy prayer is heard, Hell hath concurred," cried the fiend, "thy
soul is mine!
Like fate may dread each dame shall wed with Ranulph or his line!"

Within the tomb to await her doom is that hapless lady sleeping,
And another bride by Ranulph's side through the livelong night is
weeping.
_This_ dame declines--a third repines, and fades, like the rest, away;
Her lot she rues, whom a Rookwood woos--_cursed is her Wedding Day_!

"And this is the legend of my ancestress?" said Luke, as Sybil's strains
were ended.

"It is," replied she.

"An idle tale," observed Luke, moodily.

"Not so," answered Sybil. "Has not the curse of blood clung to all your
line? Has