XXX.
“This rabble, sir, against that treacherous man
“Comes to my aid; but in such guise, that I
“The homely saw, of falling from the pan
“Into the fire beneath, but verify.
“’Tis true so lost I was not, nor that clan
“Accursed with minds of such iniquity,
“That they to violate my person sought;
“Though nothing good or virtuous on them wrought:
XXXI.
“But that they knew, for me preserved a maid,
“As yet I am, they higher price might crave.
“Eight months are past, the ninth arrived, since, stayed
“By them, alive I languish in this grave.
“All hope is lost of my Zerbino’s aid;
“For from their speech I gather, as a slave,
“I am bartered to a merchant for his gold;
“By whom I to the sultan shall be sold.”
XXXII.
The gentle damsel so her tale pursues,
While sobs and sighs oft interposing break
Her soft angelic voice, which might infuse
Compassion into asp, or venomed snake.
What time she so her piteous grief renews,
Or haply does her bitter anguish slake,
Some twenty men the gloomy cavern fill;
This armed with hunting-spear, and that with bill.
