XIX.

“Away, away, my life, my love, my joy! “_Querida_, thou must find secure retreat. “My peace ’twill, by my father’s dust, destroy, “If e’er thy charms these rabid dogs should meet. “_Por Díos_, with steel I will the monsters greet!” With many a gentle word and heavenly smile Replied his Isidora, angel-sweet. Now fell the night, and blazed full many a pile, And Charles for his adored a shelter sought the while.