ſhe, ‘my tender damſel: let not your bright eyes be eclipſed, and the joys of wedlock be overcaſt with tears. Give yourſelf no trouble about the veil; it has been carefully preſerved and is now in my poſſeſſion. Since you have ſuch a longing deſire—promiſe but to keep it from your husband, and not to betray me, and I will fetch it from my flax-chamber: I long myſelf to ſee how it ſuits your wedding cloaths, and becomes you.’ Calliſta ſtood motionleſs as a ſtatue; the blood ſtopped in her veins for aſtoniſhment. Joy for the diſcovery, and anger at Friedbert’s hypocriſy, held her in ſuſpenſe for ſeveral ſeconds; but on hearing the matron tramping back in her wooden ſhoes, ſhe collected all her thoughts, joyfully received the veil from her hands, threw open the window, and as ſhe faſtened the golden crown on her head, and the ethereal garment rolled down her ſhoulders, ſhe was changed to a ſwan, ſpreadher
