Of the injured their foul souls pursue![634] But, howe’er,
Young Malletti that night to this house did repair,
And in her own bed the fair serpent slew;—
Drove his knife to the hilt in her heart;[635]—Wouldn’t you?[636]—
And cut her white throat—ay! he left a grand mark,—
But the husband escaped from the house[637] in the dark—
The cowardly cur![638] But you suffer; your frame
Is all trembling. Ah! Michel, your nature’s[639] the same
As my own, full of tenderness, gentle and weak;
As regards now its sympathy ’tis that I speak.