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for on this dreadful day
The fate of fathers, wives, and infants lay.
The gates unfolding pour forth all their train;
Squadrons on squadrons cloud the dusky plain:
Men, steeds, and chariots shake the trembling ground,
The tumult thickens, and the skies resound;
And now with shouts the shocking armies closed,
To lances lances, shields to shields opposed,
Host against host with shadowy legends drew,
The sounding darts in iron tempests flew;
Victors and vanquish'd join promiscu
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fulfil my wishes and my
destiny, she was melancholy, and a presentiment of evil pervaded her;
and perhaps also she thought of the dreadful secret which I had
promised to reveal to her on the following day. My father was in the
meantime overjoyed, and, in the bustle of preparation, only recognised in
the melancholy of his niece the diffidence of a bride.
After the ceremony was performed a large party assembled at my
father’s, but it was agreed that Elizabeth and I should commence our
journey by water, sleeping that night at Evian and continuing our
voyage on the following day. The day was fair, the wind favourable;
all smiled on our nuptial embarkation.
Those were the last moments of my life during which I enjoyed the
feeling of happiness. We passed rapidly along; the sun was hot, but we
were sheltered from its rays by a kind of canopy while we enjoyed the
beauty of the scene, sometimes on one side of the lake, where we saw
Mont Salêve, the pleasant banks of Montalègre, and at a distance,
surmounting all, the beautiful Mont Blanc, and the assemblage of snowy
mountains that in vain endeavour to emulate her; sometimes coasting the
opposite banks, we saw the mighty Jura opposing its dark side to the
ambition that would quit its native country, and an almost
insurmountable barrier to the invader who should wish to enslave it.
I took the hand of Elizabeth. “You are sorrowful, my love. Ah! If
you knew what I have suffered and what I may yet endure, you would
endeavour to let me taste the quiet and freedom from despair that this
one day at least permits me to enjoy.”
“Be happy, my dear Victor,” replied Elizabeth; “there is, I hope,
nothing to distress you; and be assured that if a lively joy is not
painted in my face, my heart is contented. Something whispers to me
not to depend too much on the prospect that is opened before us, but I
will not listen to such a sinister voice. Observe how fast we move
along and how the clouds, which sometimes obscure and sometim