“Behold me, thou false one! Behold me!” he cried; “Remember Alonzo the brave! God grants, that to punish thy falsehood and pride My ghost at thy marriage should sit by thy side, Should tax thee with perjury, claim thee as bride And bear thee away to the grave!”

Thus saying, his arms round the lady he wound, While loudly she shrieked in dismay; Then sank with his prey through the wide-yawning ground: Nor ever again was fair Imogine found, Or the spectre who bore her away.

Not long lived the Baron; and none since that time To inhabit the castle presume: For chronicles tell, that by order sublime There Imogine suffers the pain of her crime, And mourns her deplorable doom.