The wretch who dares augment our cruel fate;
But think not I to foes would thee betray:
No, hidden there the infant safe shall lay
Till coming years shall rot each bone away.'
"Swear this to me,' he said, 'and I depart;
But let no temptings of thy magic art
Lead thee astray, for death must be thy lot
If e'er the oath of silence be forgot.
But as I'd keep thee now from further sin,
Whene'er I pass this way I'll just look in;