1827.] A Spanish Legend. 625 



Sweet Zara scarce could loose her laces, 



When on her toilet bounced the head; 

 Making a hundred odd grimaces 



Then danced before her to her bed. 



The Don could scarcely touch his pillow, 



When in his face lolled out the tongue; 



And ne'er were broached, on shore or billow, 



Worse words than those It said and sung. 



The horridest abominations 



That ever startled human ears 

 Composed the regular orations 



Of that same rascal from Algiers. 

 The thing too was so mixed with joke, 



It almost split their sides with laughter; 

 Till, when the tardy morning broke, 



Their brains were scarce worth looking after. 



Then, calling them all sorts of names 



(The vulgar tongue was fairly rifled), 

 The head would make its bow in flames, 



Leaving the couple all but stifled. 

 Till, lastly, grown more impudent, 



It paid its visits in the day 

 Leaving the same infernal scent, 



And talking just the selfsame way. 



The Don might take his morning walk, 



The lady take her evening tea ; 

 Before the warrior's foot 'twould stalk, 



And perch upon the lady's knee. 

 The story reached the king of Spain, 



Who thereon called his council privy, 

 Who pozed some months, of course in vain, 



(Though bulls and asses spoke in Livy). 



The friar brought his salt and water ; 



The bed, the toilet, all were sprinkled: 

 Sweet Zara lisped the charms he taught her 



Weak charms to what her two eyes twinkled ! 

 Till came one night, in shape a maiden, 



With not a touch of Earth's dull weather, 

 But such as might have danced in Eden, 



With tongue of silver, toe of feather. 



" Get up," said she, " you pair of fools ! 



The head, behind the bed you'll find it ; 

 Don, bid the sexton bring his tools 



Why, any nose on earth might wind it; 

 Except, I own, a Spanish nose 



True nation of the true snuff takers - 

 On them no matter what wind blows." 



The spirit moved them both like Quakers ! 



They found the head in earth 'twas moulded; 



But with it all their mirth departed. 

 The lady pouted, pined, and scolded 



The Don was plainly broken-hearted. 

 They dug it up with one consent; 



That night they nearly died with laughter; 

 Morn, noon, and night were merriment 



CERVANTES came just nine months after ! 



M, M. New Series.Voi,. IV. No. 24. 4 L 



