His feet seem’d rooted to the place,
As though a spell had bound them.
And now loud mingling voices cried—
“Pursue that Wolf, pursue him!”
The guilty Baron, conscience stung,
About his fainting Daughter hung,
As to the ground she drew him.
“Oh! shield me Holy Mary! shield
“A tortur’d wretch!” he mutter’d.
“A murd’rous Wolf! O God! I crave