THE LEGEND OF ROSE ROCHE. 27 1 



heart*s content, the Prior of the Dominicans produced 

 the parchment, to which his rivals had affixed their 

 signatures already. The " Big Man " listened atten- 

 tively as the Monk read it. " 'Tis all fair," he said, 

 as he placed his sign manual to the deed, '* that lady 

 should choose her lord ; and thus I bind myself, faith- 

 fully to abide the intents of this parchment." Then 

 turning to Rose Roche, he thus proceeded : ** It grieves 

 me that through accident I have unwittingly occa- 

 sioned some delay ; therefore, in pity to my gallant 

 competitors, I beg you, lady, to terminate this suspense, 

 and declare to this noble company the happy object 

 of your choice. — Nay, blanch not so, fair dame," for 

 the lady became pallid as the white marble of a warrior's 

 tomb : '' exercise your own pleasure leisurely ; and 

 while I pledge thy matchless beauty in a cup of musca- 

 dine, Aylmer, my bard, shall sing a Saxon roundelay." 

 As he spoke, O'Connor signed to the minstrel, who, 

 rising at his lord's bidding, struck with a rapid hand 

 the prelude of a light romance, which, with a tremulous 

 but powerful voice, he thus gave words to : — 



" Lady, farewell I — the fatal hour 

 Has sped, for thus thy tyrant wills, 

 When he, who loves thee, leaves this tower, 

 Deserts gay hall and wood and bower 

 Of her, for whom his heart's pulse thrills ; 

 And thou art she — I^adye — sweet Lad ye." 



When the minstrel touched the prelude. Rose Roche 

 became visibly affected ; but when the words fell from 

 his Hps, a burning blush dyed her cheeks and brow, 

 and her heart throbbed almost to bursting. Alas, it 

 was the very roundelay the poor page had sung beneath 

 her casement on that melancholy night when her 

 defunct lord had expelled him from the Castle ! She 



