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STORIES FROM OLD ENGLISH POETRY.

young Duke, who was lord over all the land. He was one of a long line of good princes, and his people loved him dearly. They had only one fault to find with him, for he made good laws, and ruled them tenderly; but alas! he would not marry. So his people feared he would not leave any son to inherit his dukedom. Every morning his wise counselors asked him if he had made up his mind on the subject of marriage, and every morning the young Duke heard them patiently; and as soon as they had spoken, he answered, “I am thinking of marriage, my lords; but this is a matter which requires much thought.”

Then he called for his black hunting-steed, and held up his gloved hand for his white falcon to come and alight upon his wrist, and off he galloped to the hunt, of which he was passionately fond, and which absorbed all the time that was not occupied with the cares of his government. But after a while, his counselors insisted on being answered more fully.

“Most dear prince,” urged they, “only fancy what a dreadful thing it would be if you should be taken from your loving people, and leave no one in your place. What fighting, and confusion, and anarchy there would be over your grave! All this could never happen, if you had a sweet wife, who would bring you, from God, noble son, to grow up to be your successor.”