The Rhode-Island Republican. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1809-1841, 1836-10-26
The following is the story :


wlsest princes that ever lived. In fact,
there was not any one measure that he a
dop,ed that did not astonish all his privy
counsellors and gentlemen in attendance !:
and he said so many witty things, and made
such sensible speeches, that his high cham
berlain had his jaws disocated from laugh
\ ing with delight at The one, and gaping with
wonder at the other.
This very witty and exceedingly wise po-
tentate lived for half century in single
6lessedness, when his courtiers began to
think it a great pity so wise and wealthy a
prince should not have child after his own
likeness, 10 inherit his talents and domains /;
so they urged him most respectfully to mar
ry, for the good of his estate, and the well
/ fare of his subjects.
He turned their advice over in his mind
some four or five years, and then sending
emissaries to all parts, he summoned to his
court all the beautiful madens in the land,
who were ambitious of sharing a ducal
crown. The court vas soon crowded with
beauties of all styles aud eomplexions, from
among whom he chose one in the earliest
budding of her charms, aud acknowledged
grace and loneliness. The courtiers extoll-
cd The duke TO the skies for making such a
choice, and considered it another proof of
his great wisdom. The duke said they,
is waxing a little too old the damsel, on
the other hand, is a little too young; if one
is lacking in wears, the other has SUI
perabundance thus n want on one side is
balanced by an excess ON the other, and the
, result is well-assorted marriage
The duke, as is often the case with wise
T men who marry rather late, and take dam
sells rather youthful TO their bosons, became
doatingly fond of his wife, and INDUCED her
in all things. He was, consequently, cried
up by his subjects in general, aud BY the la
dies in particular, rs pattern for husbands; /;
and in the end, from the wonderful do
cility with which he submitted to he rein
cd and checked, acquired the amiable and
enviabIe appellation of duke Phllibert the
wiie-ridden.
There was only one thing that disturbed
the conjugal felicity of this paragon of hus-
bands though a considerable time elapsed
after his marriage, he still remained with
out any prospect of an heir The good
duke left no means untried to propitlate
Heaven; he made vows and pilgrimagcs,
he tasted and he prayed, but all to no pur-
pose. The courtiers were all astonished at
the circumstance. They could not account
for it. While the meanest peasant in the
country had sturdy brats by dozens, with
ont putting up prayer, the duke wore him
self to skin and bone with penances and
fastings, yet seemed farther off from his OBJ
ject than ever.
At length, the worthy prince fell danger
ousiy i'll, ard felt his end approaching. lie
looked with sorrowful eyes upon his young
and tender spouse, who hung over him with
tears and sobbings. 'Aas said he, tears
are soon dried from youthful eyes, and sor
row lies lightly on a youthful heart. In
little while shall be no more, and in the
arms of another husband thou wilt forget
him who has loved thee so tenderly.'
Never never = cried the duchess.
Never will cIenve to another Alas
that my lord should think me capable of
such INCONSISTENCY =
The worthy and wife-ridden duke was
soothed by her assurances; for he could
not endure the thoughts Of giving her up
even after he should be dead Still he
wished to have some pledge of her enduring
constancy:
Far be it from me, my dearest wife,
said he, to contro! thee through long life.
4 year and day Of strict fidelity will np-
pease my troubled spirit. Promise to re-
main faithful to my memory for yearand
day, and | will die in peace a
The duchess made solemn vow to that
effect The uxorious feelings Of the duke
were not yet satisfied. Safe bind, safe
ind,' thought he: so he made viii,
in which he bequeathcd TO her all his do
mains, on condition Of her remaining true
to him for year and day after his de-
cease: but, should it appear that, within
that time, she had in any wise lapsed from
heI fidelity, the inheritance should go to his
nephew, the lord of a,ncighboring territory.
Having made his will, the good duke
died and was buried. Scarcely was he IN
bis tomb, when his nephew came to take
4 possession, thinking, ms his uncle had died
withour issue, that the domains would be
devised to him Of course. lie was m iu-
rious passion, however, when the VIII was
produced, and the young widow was de-
clared inheritor Of the dukedom. rs he
was violent, bigli-handed man, and enc oi
the sturdicst knights in the land, fears were
entertained that I've might attempt to seize
on the territories by force. lie bad, how
ever. two bachelor uncles for bosom coun-
seIlors. These were two staggering rake
helly old cavaliers, who, having led loose
and riotous lives, prided themselves upon
knowing the world, aud being deeply ex-
perienced in human nature. They took
their nephew aside. 'Prthee, man. said
they, be Of good cheer. The duchess IS a