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.

The lovers breathed more freely when they gained the open air:  yet the scene they had witnessed, the words and the laughter of the witch, still fearfully dwelt with Ione; and even Glaucus could not thoroughly shake off the impression they bequeathed.  The storm had subsided—­save, now and then, a low thunder muttered at the distance amidst the darker clouds, or a momentary flash of lightning affronted the sovereignty of the moon.  With some difficulty they regained the road, where they found the vehicle already sufficiently repaired for their departure, and the carrucarius calling loudly upon Hercules to tell him where his charge had vanished.