"Hath gore of _canaille_ sapped thy noble blood and impregnated in
thy veins vile clots to turn thee purple with choler?" and he pushed
Cedric from him. "What doeth this _couchant_ dog here?" He turned and
stirred the prostrate form of Christopher. "'Tis ill to so fall upon
the seething caldron of thy passion, the noxious fumes of which
penetrate yonder to our kinsman's couch of suffering--and at the same
time thou dost pound to pomace the heart of yonder Junoesque figure."
"Julian, thy tongue hath an awful strength, it doth goad me to
something like reason. I was indeed rough, but I was looking after
mine own. The maiden there is plighted to me for espousal and I was
taking her to the chaplain."
"It may be thou dost take her rightfully; but if 'twere me I would
bring her to it by soft and gentle words, not by handling. It doth
take away the sweetness."
"Indeed, Julian, I have used all things worth using to gain her. I
have played all parts and have asked and sued and prayed, aye, begged.
I have honoured and loved and pampered her every whim; I have coerced
and threatened,--all to no avail; indeed, I have gone mad for very
effort to please.
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