ADVENTURES OF A SKRENADER. 439 



fond tales, and gaze at the beautiful forms, which history presents to 

 them, and feel no disposition to emulate, in their own persons, those 

 idols of song and deities of love ? Methinks (and here I kicked down 

 the fire-irons) it were well, if one, at least, could enjoy the inspiration 

 which they have bequeathed to us. It were something, if the minstrels 

 of lovely Provence might look down upon one of their fraternity, though 

 detected on the unhallowed and unpoetical ground of Worcestershire !" 

 It was enough. This climax was an exact antidote to the opinion that 



4 Fire, water, woman, are man's ruin, 

 And greai's thy clanger, Vander Bruin." 



I felt the aggregate soul of the Trouveurs and Troubadours rushing 

 upon me, and so, without further deliberation, I threw down the Lady's 

 Magazine for seventy-eight ; omitted to kiss the bar-maid, thereby losing 

 all credit as an orthodox traveller, and, according to my wont, in " our 

 own countrie," stole my guitar from the case which inclosed it, and sal- 

 lied forth from the inn. It was a night of peculiar beauty, for creation 

 was clothed with smiles, to greet the return of truant zephyrs, and dila- 

 tory summer ; the heavens were slumbering in their own peculiar luxury 

 of repose, and I might have believed, from the quiet character of the 

 scene, that the fair spectacle was unsullied by the observation of any 

 other eye than my own. And in addition to the congeniality of such a 

 night, with the curious state of my mind, there was a delicious intricacy 

 in the arrangement of the little streets which I was parading, so that I 

 might fancy I had lost my way, without doing my conscience any vio- 

 lent outrage. In fact, I accomplished this desirable object, by strolling 

 far and wide, before I commenced any attack ; and, that I might not 

 pay undue attention to the route pursued, my serenading tactics were 

 episodically brought into play, by first mustering my whole artillery of 

 canzonets, and then selecting a piece of ground, where they might be 

 exercised. "Wake, dearest, wake," and "Oh! come to me," were 

 called out for active service ; a light cannonade was to be directed from 

 an able-bodied collection of Spanish airs, and I began to practise the 

 French " u" for several melodies wherein that efficient vowel occurred. 

 Shortly, I marked a building of some promise, which retired a good way 

 from the road-side, and determined to take up my position on an ele- 

 vated bank which looked obliquely towards the house, so as to have a 

 sufficient view of any Dulcinea who might present herself, and yet be 

 shielded, from the cruelty of her eyes, under an ash which trembled 

 around it. I felt the importance of my situation, and looked at the 

 moon, moved forward, and as the strings of my instrument brushed 

 accidentally against the leaves through which it passed, I felt a secret 

 qualm as the notes stole out, and the ear of night was assaulted omi- 

 nously by the sound of A flat ! Should I retreat or stand my ground ? 

 It was a pusillanimous question, and I decided like a Wellington ! I 

 was then at the foot of the sloping bank ; my left thumb had resolutely 

 assumed its post for immediate operations. I fetched a deep sigh, 

 (alas ! it was not for the purpose of clearing my throat), ascended the 

 little hillock, and then the gamut ! Every incident of that evening 

 clings tenaciously to my recollection. I remember, that the first essay 

 of my musical powers was in an elegant Italian waltz, to which I had 



