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''A wild Mountain Pass, with a bridge swung from one high perpendicular rock to another. The course of a small stream, with its herby margin, seen beneath. Martial music is heard, and a military procession seen at some distance, winding among the rocks, and at length crossing the bridge. Then come the followers of in triumph, leading  in chains, followed by men bearing a palanquin, and in the rear  himself with his principal officers. As he is on the middle of the bridge enters below, and calls to him with a loud voice.''

Rasinga, ho! thou noble chief, Rasinga!

Who calls on me?

Dost thou not know my voice?

Juan de Creda, is it thou indeed? Why do I find thee here?