Thee and thy infant from my longing arms,
And hold thee clasped for ever.—
Enter Rosmunda.
Stranger, speed
Thy path in peace, fear not the fire-eyed brutes;
My dogs shall not molest thee.
Rosmunda.
I have passed
Too many dangers, scaped from suffering
Too oft, to fear thy fierce and ravenous hounds.
My journey hath been long, and I am faint,
And somewhat apprehensive, lest, perchance,
I meet not such a welcome as my hopes,
Have fondly painted.
Giovanni.
Rest upon this bank:
The mountain-spring trickles from yonder rock—
I'll bring thee dainty beverage from the vase
Which nature's hand hath scooped: drink, 'twill refresh
Thy parched and fever'd lips. Nay, do not fear
