An hour he raved of how her life had paid
For the unholy missiles he had used,
And how his soul was three times lost and damned.
I say that he went mad and fled forthwith
Into the haunted Harz.—Some say, to die
The prey of demons of the Dummburg ruin.
I,—one of those less superstitious,—say,
He in the Bodé—from that blackened rock,—
Whereon were found his hunting-cap and horn,—
The Devil's Dancing Place, did leap and die.