"Get hence! get hence! there's dwarfish Hildebrand; 100
He had a fever late, and in the fit
He cursed thee and thine, both house and land:
Then there's that old Lord Maurice, not a whit
More tame for his gray hairs--Alas me! flit!
Flit like a ghost away."--"Ah, Gossip[154] dear, 105
We're safe enough; here in this armchair sit,
And tell me how"--"Good Saints! not here, not here;
Follow me, child, or else these stones will be thy bier."