But the young lord's storm had not yet spent itself, and he
sped on in fury:
"I would thy noxious blood had all run out ere mingling with its
better, and I had naught of so foul a taint within. If I held the
apothecary's skill, I would open my veins and purge from them thy
jaundiced blood and let in slime of snakes and putrid matter to
sweeten the vessel thus set free--"
"My lord, we must hasten. The maid is ready to depart with her
nurse," said Sir Julian. As the young lord turned to him, Lady
Constance--crushed and broken--said,--
"Couldst thou not see why I have so misused my better self; have thine
eyes been blind all these years not to see how I have loved thee,
Cedric--thee--thee--with all my heart and soul?"
"I would not hear thee prate of anything so sacred as love,--'tis
sacrilege."
"Nay, not so, Cedric! I love thee more than heaven. I love thy scorn,
if to be free from it were to deprive me of thy presence. I would
follow thee to the end of time, even though thy brow lowered in ever
threatening storm--"
"Nay! thou shalt not follow me.
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