thousands were in preparation to attend could extract any information from the our hero there, in quest of new victo- high-spirited youth. “ I am sworn to ries.” reveal nothing, and I will adhere to With that cold sneer which rendered my oath, though you put me to the his countenance, otherwise extremely torture," was his decisive answer.handsome, so detestable, the Bishop Finding nothing could be elicited from pointed to the pallid face of the king, the page, the bishop sought an interwhose eyes were fixed without one ray view with the abbess. Confiding in of intelligence as he leant back upon her to the extent of his knowledge the the supporting shoulder of De Veis, strange events attending the king's whose fast-falling tears bedewed his visit, and ordering her to disguise face. nothing, as Alexander had long since “ The sun is up," said Brissonet, as communicated to him, also to Charles, he raised the king. “I tell you, De the secrets of St. Ursula. Veis, if we loiter here another half Grieved and terrified, the abbess hour, perhaps sooner, we shall have a acquainted him that Sir Raymond, host of monks about us ; besides, that being her kinsman, and one of the poor page, if he still lives, perishes most scientific men in France, had, for want of assistance. Here, support many years before, been admitted into him on that side." the secret of St. Ursula's lamps, then De Veis drew the arm of the still out of order, and that he had been unconscious Charles under his. On secreted in the convent for many nights, reaching the horses, Brissonet, in a repairing the machinery in which he deep low voice, said to the king- wrought several improvements. “I have a message from Irene de “ For many years,” proceeded the Frestamere. She impatiently awaits abbess, “ I heard nothing of him until for you at the castle of Beauvoise.- ten days since, when he appeared in Haste, lest Sir Raymond arrives froni the dress of a palmer, requesting I Milan.” would grant a private audience. He The king cast a wild and vacant told me he had just returned from look around. “ Said you so, my lord ? Rome, where he had learned from but there are evil spirits abroad. The Alexander the Sixth of his daughter pope let them escape from St. Angelo's. Irene being placed in my convent, j go not one step without her letter; and demanded a particular account as Charles of France is not so easily to the manner in which she conducted duped.” herself. Loving her sincerely, I thought There was a pause. Fortunately I never could express myself too De Veis bad in his possession a letter, largely in her praise–concluding by written at a former period by Irene to saying, so impressed am I of her the king. At a venture he handed it sanctity, I have chosen her before all to him. Recognising the handwriting, the other sisters of the house to attend Charles rapturously kissed it—then, upon the sacred lamps, also to keep turning his horse's head towards Beau- the keys of the wardrobe.” voise, he rode furiously forward. In a manner which no language can " De Veis, guard well the king: he depict, he answered, “ You are deis all but mad,” called out Brissonet.— ceived," and then laid before me the “ I stay here to learn particulars and whole of her passion for Charles the see Sir Raymond ;” but De Veis, in Eighth ; " but I need not,” said the his rapid pursuit after Charles, lieard abbess, “enter into further explanations him not. upon that head, as he gave me to Terror had reduced the page to a understand you had been the king's state almost as pitiable as the kings. confidant, and afterwards betrayed him Supporting him in his arms, Brissonet to Alexander.” knocked loudly at the great entrance “ Too true," said Brissonet, desof the convent, demanding admittance pondingly. for a capuchin brother suddenly seized "Sir Raymond then handed me a with illness. The cardinal bishop's bull from the pope, commanding that command was instantly obeyed. I should grant him the privilege of Restoratives were applied, and in less secreting himself in my convent as than two hours the young Dupont long as he pleased. Of course I should was recovered to a perfect recollection. obey. Impatiently Brissonet enquired of him Exactly eight night's hence-I a full account of the night's adventure ; remember well, it was on Thursdaybut neither his threats nor caresses the palmer hid himself in a small cell must prove a situated behind an alcove in which try whether the entrance near the stands the altar in the apartment called wardrobe is closed.” St. Ursula. From the machinery She returned in a few moments, connected with the lamps being placed looking extremely pale, holding a scroll there, he chose that position, because she had found at the door. She prehe could enter by a subterranean sented it to Brissonet. It merely conpassage from the cemetry. There tained the following words : was a sliding door behind the altar, Any effort to enter Irene's cell leading into Irene's apartment. Sir fruitless, as all the passages Raymond told me he harboured a strong are closed for ever. Should violence suspicion of her holding private meet- be used to force them, let the inhabiings with her lover-that without a tants of St. Ursula beware, as a few full corroboration of her guilt he would moments after its proud walls shall be not condemn her, but he said, “if the levelled to the earth. sacrilegious wretch pollutes her con RAYMOND DE FRESTAMERE." vent, and disgraces her family by admitting the king to her cell, my the doors, Brissonet ascertained, to a That night, on attentively examining punishment shall be as terrible as just.' certainty, they must have been all “ Cardinal,” continued the abbess, fastened by some person inside, and as she fell in deep sorrow upon her even he felt a tbrill of remorse at the knees, “ I would as soon have doubted horrible fate to which Sir Raymond the existence of the blessed Mary as had doomed himself-thus burying the virtue of Irene. I made no effort himself alive with the body of his (had I, it would have proved unavail daughter. ing) to save her from the trial ; your discovery to-night proves her, crime, Charles to the castle of Beauvoise, De' Veis, succeeding in getting and I much fear its retribution.” “Do you think," said Brissonet, placing him under the care of his abruptly, “ we could reach Irene's cell physician and Oliver Maillard, his unobserved ? At what hour do the confessor, he hastened to court to nun's collect " announce that, in consequence of " At five in the morning,” answered sudden illness, the king was obliged the abbess. to defer bis campaign to Italy for “ It wants half an hour of the time," some days, when he hoped to accomsaid the bishop, “let us proceed to the pany his troops to Milan. Then, chapel." requesting a private audience with The abbess offered no objections ; the queen, in the gentlest terms he the gloomy pile was but dimly lighted gave her to understand that Charles by the morning sun. As they entered suffered under a temporary derangeshe advanced to pay her devotions at ment, for which no possible cause could St. Ursula's shrine, when, with an be assigned except the over-excitement exclamation of horror, she found the of his mind respecting the approaching Jamps extinguished, and, on examining, war-that it was the opinion of his perceived the tubes connected with physician a few days would restore them cut to pieces. Trembling for him; and as nothing could be more her miracle, upon which the reputa essential to his future glory than keeption of her house for superior sanctity ing his present state secret, he entreated depended, she snatched a taper from she would subdue her regrets, and, to the distant altar, and, calling on Bris- divert the public mind, order all kinds sonet to follow, advanced to the picture of games and amusements. of St. Stephen, and attempted to press Three weeks passed on, and Charles' back the spring, but found it fastened physician declared, although his mind from the inside. was perfectly restored, months would At the same time Brissonet picked elapse ere, from his debilitated state, up the glittering pieces of the king's he could undertake the campaign. dagger, which he at once knew from The king then sent, through his the jewelled crown upon its hilt. council, to request the Duke of Orleans “ We had best go round to the would take the command of the army, cemetry, and enter in that direction,” and pursue the war. The duke posiobserved Brissonet. tively declined the honor, and the dis" It would be impossible at this hour appointed troops were dismissed to without being observed," said the their separate quarters. abbess. “Remain here and I will gladly quitted the scene of dissipation, The queen and retired to Amboise to attend upon again resumed his hasty steps. After the king. a time, he said In a short time Charles was so far “ Tell me has this awful business beconvalescent as to be able to join the become public ?" queen in her apartments. All big De Veis answered—“ Certainly not, court looked forward with rapture to nor ever will. The few who know it the hope of his perfect recovery; but are bound by their interests and fears he was not deceived; he felt he was never to reveal it." dying, and calmly prepared for the “ I am glad,” he replied, mournfully, event. He every day devoted some " it would make the queen unhappy ; hours to state affairs, being anxious for myself, all will soon be over.” for the prosperity of his kingdom, and De Veis fell on his knees, grasped displayed a judgment and sound policy his hand, and with unfeigned emotion such as in happier days he was not pressed it to his lips. suspected of possessing. He was con- “ And poor De Abut Dupont, our stantly engaged upon religious subjects courageous page, did he survive that with De Resli , bishop of Angus, whom night?” he had invited to remain at Beauvoise, Here De Veis mentioned the steadibut the result of their conversations ness with which the page persisted in never transpired. In place of the preserving his oath, and the deep regret turbulent passions which bad so long he had evinced at the king's illness. agitated the king, his manner displayed “ The noble youth,” said Charles, a perfect calm, nothing excited, nothing while a momentary gleam of pleasure interested him ; even De Veis was lighted up his pale countenance. “I deceived by this apparent tranquillity. would not any evil should happen to Charles had been ordered by his bim. His father lost his life at Ginphysician to remain constantly in the genne, shielding Lewis the Eleventh. open air. It was observed that he His mother is a lonely widow, with no never extended his rides or walks be other hope. When I am gone, De yond the grounds attached to the Veis, if ever I have done aught to win castle. De Veis who continued with your gratitude, be a guardian to that him was his usual companion, and re- boy." marked with wonder that in the slight- In a tone of profound sorrow De est degree he never alluded to any Veis answeredscene connected with Irene's memory. My respected, my beloved master, Could it be that in the distraction of you have suffered much, but you will his mind he had forgotten her ? live for many a long year to bless your About three months subsequent to friends and subjects.” the awful death of the unfortunate A cold shudder passed over the king Irene, De Veis being one day walking –his lips quivered. After a time he а in the gardens of the castle with the took De Veis' hand in his with much king, was struck by the gloomy ex. kindness, and looking reproachfully at pression of his countenance, and the him, saidrapid strides with which he moved, “Can you, De Veis, who know all, forming such a contrast to his lately as- wish me to live and for what?" sumed calmness. Suddenly he stopped, As he spoke he advanced bastily to and grasping De Veis' hand, in a low the castle, and retiring to his own aptrembling voice said artments did not appear for some days. “ Have you ever heard what became This was the only time Charles ever of the wretched Sir Raymond ?" alluded to his misfortunes. Startling at the suddenness of the address, and the violent agitation of Nearly three months more had Charles, De Veis besitated, but after a elapsed since Irene's death, when the few moments reflection, fearful of again king (to gratify his queen) accomawakening his too powerful sensibilities, panied her to witness a game of tennis, he equivocally answered which some of the young noblemen “ He has not since been heard of.” were playing for her amusement. He The king drew a long breath, as if stood with her in the balcony of a relieved from some apprehension, then gallery, called La Galeire Haquelebac, in a hollow voice added which coinmanded a full view of the " How dreadfully the miserable man's sport going on in the fossé beneath ; passions must have been wrought upon but soon fatigued with every thing to lead him to such a horrible crime.” resembling pleasure, he was passing De Veis made no answer ; Charles through the crowds of company col. 66 lected in the gallery, when the Bishop of St. Maloes, who had received peremptory orders never to appear in his presence, not expecting to meet him in so large an assembly, entered, and by an unfortunate chance came full before him. His appearance revived in the memory of the ill-fated monarch all the terrible recollections associated with Irene. He rushed fiercely towards the Bishop, grasping his sword as if to stab him, and grinding his teeth with agony. The revulsion of feeling was too much for his exhausted frame uttering the name of Irene, with a loud cry he fell to the ground. All was the work of an instant, even De Veis who stood by his side, had scarcely noticed his emotion, when he lay at his feet a lifeless corpse. The scene of consternation which ensued, defies all description. The despair of the queen, who ardently loved him, the heart-felt sorrow of De Veis, who never recovered his loss, the bitter remorse of Brissonet, and the sincere regret of his court. Every assistance that human skill could devise to restore suspended animation was immediately resorted to, but in vainthe vital spark had fled for ever. Such were the leading events of the awful tragedy which terminated, on the 7th of April, 1498, the life of Charles the Eighth of France, ere he had arrived at the age of eight and twenty. His remains were deposited with much state in the chapel of St. Denis, where his effigy in bronze, representing him in a kneeling attitude, was to be seen until the period of the French Revolution, when in the destructive spirit of democratical fanaticism, the infuriated multitude rushed into the hallowed spot, where for centuries the remains of the kings of France had been deposited, and with sacrilegious hands defaced or destroyed the noblest monuments of art erected by religion. LITERE ORIENTALES. TURKISH POETRY.-THIRD ARTICLE. THE Ottoman Empire may be said to have reached the zenith of its literary glory under the reign of SULEIMAN II. Circumstances had never at any former period allowed the intellectual energies of all classes of the Osmanlü such ample scope for their development as they obtained in the half century during which this patronising and prosperous Prince held the reins of government.* The biographers, SEHDI, AHDI, LATIFI, AASHIK, NAZMI, KINALIZADE and KAFZADE, have compiled and illustrated the writings of no fewer than five hundred and fifty poets alone, to say nothing of other littérateurs, all belonging exclusively to this period. The great majority of these, it is true, hardly rose above mediocrity, but we find also many eminent and celebrated names among the number. FASLI, famous from Stambool to Samarcand, flourished at this time, and gave to the world his magnificent poems of Gul u Bulbul (The Rose and the Nightingale) and Nakhlistan (The Wood of Palms), an imitation of the Gulistan (Rosegarden) of the Persian poet, SAADI; and YAHYA transcended all who had preceded him in descriptive and panegyrical poetry + BAKKI was universally acknowledged as the first Lyrist From 1521 to 1572. He also wrote two mystical poems, The Treasury of Secret Knowledge and The King and the Beggar, still in high repute. Yahya professed Christianity, but it does not appear that his religion was any barrier to his success as a poet. Now and then, however, he was rallied on the subject. One day having sent the follwing distich to the poet Khiali Khiali replied With a yellow visage and a nose the color of a tulip, Is it not astonishing that Khiali should look so like an owl? Benim erbabi nasmun douleti, ei shapkali kafir ! I am the Glory of the Princes of Song, thou hat-wearing infidel ! i. e. to make a friend of the writer. On one occasion a conspiracy was formed against Yahya by some enemies at court, but Suleiman, with his characteristic generosity, refused to listen to any accusation against so distinguished a poet. Yahya's life was long and prosperous. His death occurred in 1582. of modern times; ALI VASI acquired an immortal name by his HumajunNameh, a spirited translation into Turkish verse of the Hitopodésa of VISHNA SARMA; GHAZALI and FuZULI (of the latter of whom we purpose to speak more at large towards the close of our paper) sang Mystical Epics, the themes of which were Wine and Devotion; KHALILL produced his great work, Firak-Nameh (The Book of Separation): AWAZ-ZATI* became the founder of a school in composition which united the ease of everyday thought with an inexhaustible imaginative luxuriance; and KHIALI delighted all ranks of readers by the peculiar originality and vividness of his commonest poetical creations. But perhaps the most distinguished of the poets of this the Augustan era of Turkey is MOHAMMED BEN OSMAN BEN ALI NAKKASH, called LAMII, or The Dazzling, We have referred to this voluminous writer elsewhere, and adduced a specimen of his manner in religious and eulogistic poetry. His principal works bear the following titles:-Nefhatol-ins (The Breath of Humanity), Futuhesh shadihin li tervih kullibil-mudshahidin (An Apocalypse to quiet the hearts of the Wrestlers), Shevahidun-nubuvvet (Witnesses for the Prophets), Ibret-Nameh (The Book of Examples), Miretol-esma (a Mirror of Names), Medjmaol-lataif (À Budget of Whimwhams), and Munazerat Ñefs u Ruh (The Battle of the Spirit and the Soul.) His poems of Vamik and Asra and Vizeh and Ramin are among the most celebrated of his productions, though whether they are original or merely rifaccimenti of similar romances by the ancient Indian poets VALMYKI and VYASA is a point that has never been satisfactorily settled. . Somewhat less known in Europe, but, if we may venture to pronounce an authoritative Author of The Candle and the Moth, The Book of Ferrukh, Ahmed and Mahmoud, Shireen and Mouloud, and many other poems. He died in 1546, of a complication of diseases, brought on chiefly by intemperance. He was a native of Persia, and at first practised astrology for a livelihood, but finding the stars adverse to his success in that profession, he went to Turkey and turned poet. The following sketch of his subsequent fortunes we render from RIAZI, to whom it was communicated by ZATI himself: "When I came to Constantinople, Sultan Bajazet II. being then the reigning monarch, I found there a great number of rich Ulemas, to whom I presented Kassidets for the Feast of Bairam and the Winter and Spring Festivals; I also, in a fortunate hour, gave Sultan Bajazet several Panegyrics, for which he rewarded me with a pension of three thousand aspers yearly and a yearly largess of half a sheep and a number of red shawls, only stipulating that I should every year write one Kassidet for the Feast of the Roses and two Kassidets for both Feasts of the Bairam. I protested against the sheep and the shawls in the following quatrain: I am a stilly ocean, lying bare under the Moon of Poetry; Give to thy warriors the red shawls and the blood of the sheep. Which are agitated like the waves when the winds begin to woo them. As soon as the Grand Vizier Ali Pasha saw these lines he commanded the Defterdar to let me have wardrobes of blue Angora silks in future. These were my bright days; my particular friends were the Viziers Ali Pasha and Herzekzade, and the threetailed Bashaw Tadjizade Djaafer and his brother Saadi; and I often supped at table with them. My particularly particular friend was the poet Kadri Effendi; with him I spent a good deal of my time; we usually lived together, sometimes in the College of St. Sophia,-at others in the suburb of Tashtolkala; and at one time we had a delightful little Paradise of a house opposite the Fountain of Aya-jokshurli. When Piri, afterwards Grand Vizier of Selim I., was Defterdar, I gave him a Kassidet, the burden of which was this: All the buds burst into roses and new stars were born in the heavens At this time the Sultan made me an offer of a stewardship at Brusa, worth thirty aspers a day, but I declined it, not liking to be separated from my Constantinople friends. The Sultan took umbrage at my refusal; and what was worse, towards the end of his reign Ali Pasha died, and Herzekzade and Tadjizade fell into disgrace; so that I remained some time without any patron or protector.On the accession of Sultan Selim I. I presented him with a Kassidet; and he gave me in requital two villages, which brought me in yearly eleven thousand five hundred aspers. My former patron Tadjizade Djaafer, the three-tailed Bashaw, was bowstrung, and Sultan Selim, during his short reign, was mostly in the field of battle; however I had still my villages. When Sultan Suleiman ascended the throne I also gave him Kassidets, and he loaded me with presents and honors. It happened that the poet Habsi was then in prison for saying some saucy thing to the Grand Vizier Ibrahim Pasha; and Keshfi, Habsi's brother, coming into office shortly afterwards, he, I, Bassiri, Khandi and other poets presented ourselves before Ibrahim in the Divan and requested him to liberate Habsi. But the Grand Vizier took this intrusion of ours in ill part; and though the Sultan still favored me and gave me presents, Ibrahim did not like me too well. Not long afterwards Destiny declared against me altogether; Khiali began to slander me, and he found many to listen to him; my own habits of life, too, had always been the reverse of regular; and what with one piece of ill luck and another I went down the hill of fortune even faster than I had mounted it; so that at last I found myself obliged to turn astrologer once more, and cast horoscopes for all who would pay for their peepings into futurity. I am now old; I suffer greatly from gout; my powers of mind begin to fail me; and I am labouring continually under a dreadful nervous debility, not to be described." + Dub. Univ. Mag. No. LXIII. |