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"
Be
thou
fiend
,
priest
,
or
devil
,
"
replied
Front-de-Boeuf
,
"
thou
liest
in
thy
throat
!
--
Not
I
stirred
John
to
rebellion
--
not
I
alone
--
there
were
fifty
knights
and
barons
,
the
flower
of
the
midland
counties
--
better
men
never
laid
lance
in
rest
--
And
must
I
answer
for
the
fault
done
by
fifty
?
--
False
fiend
,
I
defy
thee
!
Depart
,
and
haunt
my
couch
no
more
--
let
me
die
in
peace
if
thou
be
mortal
--
if
thou
be
a
demon
,
thy
time
is
not
yet
come
.
"
"
In
peace
thou
shalt
NOT
die
,
"
repeated
the
voice
;
"
even
in
death
shalt
thou
think
on
thy
murders
--
on
the
groans
which
this
castle
has
echoed
--
on
the
blood
that
is
engrained
in
its
floors
!
"
"
Thou
canst
not
shake
me
by
thy
petty
malice
,
"
answered
Front-de-Boeuf
,
with
a
ghastly
and
constrained
laugh
.
"
The
infidel
Jew
--
it
was
merit
with
heaven
to
deal
with
him
as
I
did
,
else
wherefore
are
men
canonized
who
dip
their
hands
in
the
blood
of
Saracens
?
--
The
Saxon
porkers
,
whom
I
have
slain
,
they
were
the
foes
of
my
country
,
and
of
my
lineage
,
and
of
my
liege
lord
.
--
Ho
!
ho
!
thou
seest
there
is
no
crevice
in
my
coat
of
plate
--
Art
thou
fled
?
--
art
thou
silenced
?
"
"
No
,
foul
parricide
!
"
replied
the
voice
;
"
think
of
thy
father
!
--
think
of
his
death
!
--
think
of
his
banquet-room
flooded
with
his
gore
,
and
that
poured
forth
by
the
hand
of
a
son
!
"
"
Ha
!
"
answered
the
Baron
,
after
a
long
pause
,
"
an
thou
knowest
that
,
thou
art
indeed
the
author
of
evil
,
and
as
omniscient
as
the
monks
call
thee
!
--
That
secret
I
deemed
locked
in
my
own
breast
,
and
in
that
of
one
besides
--
the
temptress
,
the
partaker
of
my
guilt
.
--
Go
,
leave
me
,
fiend
!
and
seek
the
Saxon
witch
Ulrica
,
who
alone
could
tell
thee
what
she
and
I
alone
witnessed
.
--
Go
,
I
say
,
to
her
,
who
washed
the
wounds
,
and
straighted
the
corpse
,
and
gave
to
the
slain
man
the
outward
show
of
one
parted
in
time
and
in
the
course
of
nature
--
Go
to
her
,
she
was
my
temptress
,
the
foul
provoker
,
the
more
foul
rewarder
,
of
the
deed
--
let
her
,
as
well
as
I
,
taste
of
the
tortures
which
anticipate
hell
!
"
"
She
already
tastes
them
,
"
said
Ulrica
,
stepping
before
the
couch
of
Front-de-Boeuf
;
"
she
hath
long
drunken
of
this
cup
,
and
its
bitterness
is
now
sweetened
to
see
that
thou
dost
partake
it
.
--
Grind
not
thy
teeth
,
Front-de-Boeuf
--
roll
not
thine
eyes
--
clench
not
thine
hand
,
nor
shake
it
at
me
with
that
gesture
of
menace
!
--
The
hand
which
,
like
that
of
thy
renowned
ancestor
who
gained
thy
name
,
could
have
broken
with
one
stroke
the
skull
of
a
mountain-bull
,
is
now
unnerved
and
powerless
as
mine
own
!
"
"
Vile
murderous
hag
!
"
replied
Front-de-Boeuf
;
"
detestable
screech-owl
!
it
is
then
thou
who
art
come
to
exult
over
the
ruins
thou
hast
assisted
to
lay
low
?
"
"
Ay
,
Reginald
Front-de-Boeuf
,
"
answered
she
,
"
it
is
Ulrica
!
--
it
is
the
daughter
of
the
murdered
Torquil
Wolfganger
!
--
it
is
the
sister
of
his
slaughtered
sons
!
--
it
is
she
who
demands
of
thee
,
and
of
thy
father
's
house
,
father
and
kindred
,
name
and
fame
--
all
that
she
has
lost
by
the
name
of
Front-de-Boeuf
!
--
Think
of
my
wrongs
,
Front-de-Boeuf
,
and
answer
me
if
I
speak
not
truth
.
