24 Harold Harrung. [Juxy, 
noble Harold, with all a bridegroom’s exultation, and the trembling yet 
pleased Ulla, stood before him. 
« Son!” cried the old man, in a glad though interrupted voice, 
“stretch forth thy right hand, and take her’s, whom, all priceless as 
she is, thou well deservest. Why dost thou bury it thus in the folds of 
thy vest?” F 
«« Father, pardon me!”’ replied the youth ; “this morning, as I donned 
my marriage-garment, my blade slipped from its sheath, and cut deeply 
into my hand: the blood as yet is hardly staunched.—Nay, Ulla!” as he 
saw her countenance grow paler, “it is but a slight wound, and not 
worth thy care. Meanwhile, thou wilt not scorn to clasp this other 
hand.” 
He knelt before her as he spoke, and pressed _her’s laughingly to his 
lips ; but, as again he raised his head, he saw distinctly, at the back of 
Ulla, the enchantress Druda, standing, and pointing to her with a mock- 
ing smile. With a loud cry, he sank senseless on the ground. 
All was consternation among the crowd. They raised him, and strove 
to bare his wounded hand, deeming that loss of blood had caused his 
swoon: but it was folded in his breast with a firmness that rendered all 
their endeavours useless. The struggle, however, recalled Harold to 
life. He threw an anxious and terrified glance around him ; but nothing 
now appeared to confirm his fears. Half believing that the dreadful 
appearance was an illusion created by his fancy, he advanced to console 
the weeping Ulla. Weakness, he feigned, resulting from his long con- 
finement, had caused this sudden faintness—overpowered, as he had 
been, with excess of joy, on finding that his dear Ulla was at length his 
bride. But his still startled eye and quivering lip belied the explanation 
as he gave it ; and Sweno would willingly have deferred the celebration 
of the nuptials till a more fitting season, but that he feared the assembled 
guests might deem such delay an inhospitable pretext for avoiding the 
evening banquet. He gave command, therefore, that the festival should 
proceed. But Harold strove in vain to nerve himself as became his part 
in the ceremonies ; and he, who had risen that morning all ecstasy and 
hope, now stood the saddest and most silent man in all that thronged 
assemblage. 
Ulla, scarcely less melancholy, and agitated by a thousand undefined 
fears, shrank from his side, when she found that her fond words and 
looks seemed only to augment his despondency. Meanwhile, the ban- 
quet was set forth; the wine flowed high in a thousand goblets; and 
Sweno strove, by anxious attention to his guests, to veil the strangeness 
of his son-in-law’s deportment. By degrees, the strong wine began to 
do its office. The merriment of the revellers grew loud and violent ; 
and they crowned their full cups with oft-repeated healths to the bold 
Harold and his beauteous bride. In the midst of the loud din, Herda, 
his most favoured follower and friend, stole to the side of his chief. 
«* Why droops my lord,” whispered the faithful attendant, “ thus on 
his nuptial night? Oh! rouse thyself, bold Harold! for the eyes of 
many are upon thee in wonder and in scorn ; and jests are muttered round 
the board such as become not thy honour, nor the purity of her whom 
thou hast wedded.” 
“* Herda,”’ exclaimed the chief, as if unconscious that aught had been 
addressed to him—“ Herda, look out towards the north, and tell me 
what thou seest there.” 
