'It has been despoiled of its venom!' said the witch, aroused at his
threat; but ere the words had left her lip, the snake had sprung upon
Glaucus; quick and watchful, the agile Greek leaped lightly aside, and
struck so fell and dexterous a blow on the head of the snake, that it
fell prostrate and writhing among the embers of the fire.
The hag sprung up, and stood confronting Glaucus with a face which would
have befitted the fiercest of the Furies, so utterly dire and wrathful
was its expression--yet even in horror and ghastliness preserving the
outline and trace of beauty--and utterly free from that coarse grotesque
at which the imaginations of the North have sought the source of terror.
'Thou hast,' said she, in a slow and steady voice--which belied the
expression of her face, so much was it passionless and calm--'thou hast
had shelter under my roof, and warmth at my hearth; thou hast returned
evil for good; thou hast smitten and haply slain the thing that loved me
and was mine: nay, more, the creature, above all others, consecrated to
gods and deemed venerable by man,--now hear thy punishment. By the
moon, who is the guardian of the sorceress--by Orcus, who is the
treasurer of wrath--I curse thee! and thou art cursed! May thy love be
blasted--may thy name be blackened--may the infernals mark thee--may thy
heart wither and scorch--may thy last hour recall to thee the prophet
voice of the Saga of Vesuvius! And thou,' she added, turning sharply
towards Ione, and raising her right arm, when Glaucus burst impetuously
on her speech:
'Hag!' cried he, 'forbear! Me thou hast cursed, and I commit myself to
the gods--I defy and scorn thee! but breathe but one word against yon
maiden, and I will convert the oath on thy foul lips to thy dying groan.
Beware!'
'I have done,' replied the hag, laughing wildly; 'for in thy doom is she
who loves thee accursed. And not the less, that I heard her lips
breathe thy name, and know by what word to commend thee to the demons.
Glaucus--thou art doomed!' So saying, the witch turned from the
Athenian, and kneeling down beside her wounded favorite, which she
dragged from the hearth, she turned to them her face no more.
'O Glaucus!' said Ione, greatly terrified, 'what have we done?--Let us
hasten from this place; the storm has ceased. Good mistress, forgive
him--recall thy words--he meant but to defend himself--accept this
peace-offering to unsay the said': and Ione, stooping, placed her purse
on the hag's lap.
'Away!' said she, bitterly--'away! The oath once woven the Fates only
can untie. Away!'
'Come, dearest!' said Glaucus, impatiently. 'Thinkest thou that the
gods above us or below hear the impotent ravings of dotage? Come!'
Long and loud rang the echoes of the cavern with the dread laugh of the
Saga--she deigned no further reply.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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