whom she greatly esteemed and valued, and whom Zamano suspected.
But their endeavors were met wholly with scorn. When they entreated
her, among other things, "to give peace to our country," the phrase
seemed to awaken all her indignation.

"Peace! peace to our country!" she exclaimed. "What peace! the peace
of death, and shame, and the grave, forever!" And her soul again found
relief only in its wild lyrical overflows.

What, peace for our country! when ye've made her a grave,
A den for the tyrant, a cell for the slave;
A pestilent plague-spot, accursing and curst,
As vile as the vilest, and worse than the worst.

The chain may be broken, the tyranny o'er,
But the sweet charms that blessed her ye may not restore;
Not your blood, though poured forth from life's ruddiest vein,
Shall free her from sorrows, or cleanse her from stain!

'Tis the grief that ye may not remove the disgrace,
That brands with the blackness of hell all your race;
'Tis the sorrow that nothing may cleanse ye of shame,
That has wrought us to madness, and filled us with flame.

Years may pass, but the memory deep in our souls,
Shall make the tale darker as Time onward rolls;
And the future that grows from our ruin shall know
Its own, and its country's and liberty's foe.

And still in the prayer at its altars shall rise,
Appeal for the vengeance of earth and of skies;
Men shall pray that the curse of all time may pursue,
And plead for the curse of eternity too!

Nor wantonly vengeful in spirit their prayer,
Since the weal of the whole world forbids them to spare;
What hope would there be for mankind if our race,
Through the rule of the brutal, is robbed by the base?

What hope for the future--what hope for the free?
And where would the promise of liberty be,
If Time had no terror, no doom for the slave,
Who would stab his own mother, and shout o'er her grave!

Such a response as this effectually silenced all those cunning agents
of the viceroy who urged their arguments in behalf of their country.
Nothing, it was seen, could be done with a spirit so inflexible; and
in his fury Zamano ordered the couple forth to instant execution.
Bogota was in mourning. Its people covered their heads, a few only
excepted, and refused to be seen or comforted. The priests who
attended the victims received no satisfaction as concerned the secrets
of