She took it slowly drew it from the scabbard, and while the ladies who
stood around turned away their eyes with real or affected shuddering,
she noted with a curious eye the high polish and rich, damasked
ornaments upon the glittering blade.

"Had I been a man," she said, "methinks none of my ancestors would have
loved a good sword better. As it is with me, I like to look on one, and
could, like the Fairy of whom I have read in some Italian rhymes--were
my godson Harrington here, he could tell me the passage--even trim
my hair, and arrange my head-gear, in such a steel mirror as this
is.--Richard Varney, come forth, and kneel down. In the name of God and
Saint George, we dub thee knight! Be Faithful, Brave, and Fortunate.
Arise, Sir Richard Varney."

[The incident alluded to occurs in the poem of Orlando Innamorato
of Boiardo, libro ii. canto 4, stanza 25.

"Non era per ventura," etc.

It may be rendered thus:-As then, perchance, unguarded was the tower,
So enter'd free Anglante's dauntless knight.
No monster and no giant guard the bower
In whose recess reclined the fairy light,
Robed in a loose cymar of lily white,
And on her lap a sword of breadth and might,
In whose broad blade, as in a mirror bright,
Like maid that trims her for a festal night,
The fairy deck'd her hair, and placed her coronet aright.