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It was his fav'rite steed, and yet he ne'er Made mention of its name or of its end, But, when we prais'd its fleetness, frown'd in silence. I've wonder'd oft at this, but thought no ill.

Nor think it now. It is not credible,— Making, as then he did, a lover's suit To the fair Margaret, Ulrico's sister,— That he should murder him.

He was the heir of all Ulrico's lands.

True; so he was.

Ulrico loved him not, and oft opposed His suit as most presumptuous. But for this, Her brother's sudden end, the lovely maid Had ne'er been Garcio's wife.

All this is true; and yet, perhaps, those facts Have on the mind of this poor dying wretch Impress'd dark fancies, which the fever'd brain Shapes into actual deed. Oh, it is horrible! Canst thou believe one of his noble race Could do a deed befitting ruffian hands,