"Ha," said Leicester, "remember you to whom you speak?"

"I speak of her unworthy husband, my lord," repeated Tressilian, "and

my respect can find no softer language. The unhappy young woman is

withdrawn from my knowledge, and sequestered in some secret place of

this Castle--if she be not transferred to some place of seclusion better

fitted for bad designs. This must be reformed, my lord--I speak it as

authorized by her father--and this ill-fated marriage must be avouched

and proved in the Queen's presence, and the lady placed without

restraint and at her own free disposal. And permit me to say it concerns

no one's honour that these most just demands of mine should be complied

with so much as it does that of your lordship."

The Earl stood as if he had been petrified at the extreme coolness

with which the man, whom he considered as having injured him so deeply,

pleaded the cause of his criminal paramour, as if she had been an

innocent woman and he a disinterested advocate; nor was his wonder

lessened by the warmth with which Tressilian seemed to demand for her

the rank and situation which she had disgraced, and the advantages of

which she was doubtless to share with the lover who advocated her cause

with such effrontery. Tressilian had been silent for more than a

minute ere the Earl recovered from the excess of his astonishment; and

considering the prepossessions with which his mind was occupied, there

is little wonder that his passion gained the mastery of every other

consideration. "I have heard you, Master Tressilian," said he, "without

interruption, and I bless God that my ears were never before made to

tingle by the words of so frontless a villain. The task of chastising

you is fitter for the hangman's scourge than the sword of a nobleman,

but yet--Villain, draw and defend thyself!"

As he spoke the last words, he dropped his mantle on the ground, struck

Tressilian smartly with his sheathed sword, and instantly drawing his

rapier, put himself into a posture of assault. The vehement fury of his

language at first filled Tressilian, in his turn, with surprise equal

to what Leicester had felt when he addressed him. But astonishment gave

place to resentment when the unmerited insults of his language were

followed by a blow which immediately put to flight every thought save

that of instant combat. Tressilian's sword was instantly drawn; and

though perhaps somewhat inferior to Leicester in the use of the weapon,

he understood it well enough to maintain the contest with great spirit,

the rather that of the two he was for the time the more cool, since he

could not help imputing Leicester's conduct either to actual frenzy or

to the influence of some strong delusion.




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