_Paol._ I besought My mother to sing me her Corinth songs; To tell me of the groves and of the flowers, And of that happy home that was more fair Than even was ours, in pleasant Italy; And she has promised that she will, my father. _Olaf._ Ha! ha! is’t so?--’Tis even as I thought. I know wherefore these stories of the past! Mark me, Teresa, if thou school him thus, I’ll sunder ye!--Thou need’st not clasp thy hands; For on my life I’ll do it! _Paol._ [_weeping._] Father, father, Part me not from my mother, and indeed I will go with you. _Ter._ [_aside to Olaf._] Pray thee, speak him kindly! _Olaf._ Come, I’ll be thy companion! I will teach thee To be a man;--dry up these childish tears! _Ter._ My sweet boy, do not weep! Go out this day, Thy mother prays it of thee, and bring back A little ermine, we will make it tame; It shall be thine, my Paolo, and shall love thee. _Paol._ I will go, dearest mother--nor will cry Though the gaunt, hungry wolves bark round about, [_aside._] But, mother dear, will you sit by my side When we come back, and sing me fast asleep? I have such horrid dreams of wolves at night. _Ter._ I will, indeed I will, my dearest love! _Olaf._ Come, come, why all this fondling? We’ll be back Long ere the night. _Ter._ Come, now I’ll put thee on Thy cloak, and that warm cap of ermine skin I made for thee last winter! [_They go out._ _Olaf._ How she sways him! With a sweet word she guides him as she will! Would that the child loved me but half as well; Heaven help me! but I am a rough, bad man, And have deserved neither her love nor his! But now the sledge is ready. _He goes out._ SCENE IV. _Near sunset--a dreary, desolate region, surrounded with ice-mountains--the Hunter drives a sledge rapidly forward, in the back part of which sit Olaf and Paolo._ _Olaf._ Where is this wild? I know not where thou drivest! _Hunter._ Below our feet lies the eternal ice Of the great sea! _Olaf._ Our prey abides not here! _Hunt._ We’ll find enough, anon! _Olaf._ Thou dost not know The track on which thou go’st.--Here only dwells The gaunt and savage wolf! and hark--even now I hear their bark! _Paol._ Oh, are there wolves a-nigh? _Hunt._ Ay, they are nigh, look in that black abysm, It is a wild wolf’s den! _Olaf._ Thou braggart hunter, Is this thy wondrous skill? Wheel round the sledge Before the horse is maddened with the cry! There is no time to lose! Pull in the beast! _Hunt._ It will not do--the wolves are now upon us! _Paol._ Oh father, save me! save me, dearest father!