Free and avenged.—Thou shouldst be now at work,
In wrath, my native Etna! who dost lift
Thy spiry pillar of dark smoke so high,
Through the red heaven of sunset!—sleep’st thou still,
With all thy founts of fire, while spoilers tread
The glowing vales beneath?
[Procida enters, disguised.
Ha! who art thou,
Unbidden guest, that with so mute a step
Dost steal upon me?