"The angel's mask falls
from your face; and I behold the fury that was hidden beneath it.
Now you are your mother's own daughter; and at this moment I
comprehend for the first time what my father has suffered, and why
he shunned not even the disgrace of a divorce, just to be delivered
from such a Megaera."
"Oh, I thank you, thank you!" cried she, with a savage laugh. "You
are filling up the measure of your iniquity. It is not enough that
you drive your sister to despair; you revile your mother also! You
say that we are furies; well, indeed, 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.
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