As Glaucus now turned towards the witch, he perceived for the first time, just under her seat, the bright gaze and crested head of a large snake. Whether it was that the vivid coloring of the Athenian's cloak, thrown over the shoulders of lone, attracted the reptile's anger—its crest began to glow and rise, as if menacing and preparing itself to spring upon the Neapolitan. Glaucus caught quickly at one of the half-burned logs upon the hearth; and, as if enraged at the action, the snake came forth from its shelter, and with a loud hiss raised itself on end, till its height nearly approached that of the Greek.
......... Glaucus. Witch, command thy creature, or thou wilt see it dead!
Witch. It has been despoiled of its venom.
Ere the words had left her lips, the snake had sprung upon Glaucus; the agile Greek leaped lightly aside, and struck so fell 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.
Witch. Thou hast had shelter under my roof, and warmth at my hearth; thou hast returned evil for good; thou hast smitten and slain the thing that loved me and was mine; now hear thy punishment. 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! .........
Long and loud rang the echoes of the cavern with the dread laugh of the Saga.
The lovers gained the open air.
"Alas!" said lone, "my soul feels the omen of evil. Preserve us, oh, ye gods!"
