ndeed, for we shall one day be such to you, and we will
show you our Medusa-face, before which you will be stiffened to stone.
Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, from this hour out, I am your implacable
enemy; look out for the head on your shoulders, for my hand is raised
against it, and in my hand is a sword! Guard well the secret that sleeps
in your breast; for you have transformed me to a vampire that will suck
your heart's blood. You have reviled my mother, and I will go hence and
tell her of it. She will believe me; for she well knows that you hate
her, and that you are a genuine son of your father; that is to say, a
canting hypocrite, a miserable fellow, who carries virtue on the lips
and crime in the heart."

"Cease, I say, cease," cried the earl, "if you do not want me to forget
that you are a woman and my sister!"

"Forget it by all means," said she, scornfully. "I have forgotten long
since that you are my brother, as you have long since forgotten that you
are the son of your mother. Farewell, Earl of Surrey; I leave you and
your palace, and will from this hour out abide with my mother, the
divorced wife of the Duke of Norfolk. But mark you this: we two are
separated from you in our love--but not in our hate! Our hatred to
you remains eternal and unchangeable; and one day it will crush you!
Farewell, Earl of Surrey; we meet again in the king's presence!"

She rushed to the door. Henry Howard did not hold her back. He looked
after her with a smile as she left the cabinet, and murmured, almost
compassionately: "Poor woman! I have, perhaps, cheated her out of a
lover, and she will never forgive me that. Well, let it be so! Let
her, as much as she pleases, be my enemy, and torment me with petty
pin-prickings, if she be but unable to harm her. I hope, though, that I
have guarded well my secret, and she could not suspect the real cause
of my refusal. Ah, I was obliged to wrap myself in that foolish family
pride, and make haughtiness a cloak for my love. Oh, Geraldine, thee
would I choose, wert thou the daughter of a peasant; and I would not
hold my escutcheon tarnished, if for thy sake I must draw a pale
athwart it.--But hark! It is striking four! My service begins! Farewell,
Geraldine, I must to the queen!"

And while he betook himself to his dressing-room, to put on his state
robes for the great court feast, the Duchess of Richmond returned to her
own apartments, trembling and quivering with rage. She traversed these