Lord Hartfield stayed with the frightened wife while she knelt beside that awful figure on the hearth, wringing her hands with piteous bewailings and lamentations over the unconscious clay.

alas for Celin!" Before him ride his vassals, in order two by two, With ashes on their turbans spread, most pitiful to view; Behind him his four sisters, each wrapped in sable veil, Between the tambour's dismal strokes take up their doleful tale; When stops the muffled drum, ye hear their brotherless bewailing, And all the people, far and near, cry"Alas!

alas for Celin!" The Moorish maid at the lattice stands, the Moor stands at his door, One maid is wringing of her hands, and one is weeping sore Down to the dust men bow their heads, and ashes black they strew Upon their broidered garments of crimson, green, and blue Before each gate the bier stands still, then bursts the loud bewailing, From door and lattice, high and low"Alas!