THE STAKE. 433 
The venerable Father of Mercy was found seated on a chair of 
ivory on the threshold of the palace of Orsini: on his right was the 
apostolic prothonotary, on his left a secretary of the republic. The 
hall of the palace was hung with the richest tapestry, and illuminated 
with lamps of silver. Polichinelle, followed by the brilliant cortége, 
slowly advanced under the silent arcades of the palace. Scarcely had 
he entered when the Polichinelle suddenly vanished, and Bancolo ap- 
peared in the costume of a noble Venetian. 
He entered, and placing a purse of gold at the feet of the monk, 
said, “ My reverend father, I fulfil my promise, and restore to you 
the ransom of my parent. Implore Heaven to accept that ransom 
which has been offered for me. “ My son,” answered the venerable 
Mathurian, “in the multitude of the offerings which I have received 
to-day, that of Polichinelle is not the least worthy, or the least accep- 
table in the sight of Heaven.” 
THE STAKE: 
A Poem. 
IN THREE PARTS. 
“Tr is a woe ‘ too deep for tears’ when all 
Is reft at once, when some surpassing spirit, 
Whose light adorned the world around it, leaves 
Those who remain behind nor sobs nor tears, 
(The passionate tumult of a clinging hope), 
But pale despair and cold tranquillity, 
Nature’s vast frame, the web of human things, 
Birth and the grave, that are not as they were.” 
SHELLEY. 
Lapy ! if over my unscholared page 
Thy grave eye wander with regard severe, 
Questioning whether aught of truth lie here, 
Worthy thy thoughts an hour to engage,— 
Bethink thee, O! most gentle Doctoresse, 
VOL. IX., NO. XXVII. 55 
