"She already tastes them," said Ulrica, stepping before the couch of Front-de-Boeuf; "she hath long drunken of this cup, and its bitterness is now sweetened to see that thou dost partake it. Grind not thy teeth, Front-de-Boeuf--roll not thy eyes--clench not thy hand, nor shake it at me with that gesture of menace! The hand which, like that of thy renowned ancestor who gained thy name, could have broken with one stroke the skull of a mountain-bull, is now unnerved and powerless as mine own!" "Vile, murderous hag!" replied Front-de-Boeuf--"detestable screech-owl! it is then thou who art come to exult over the ruins thou hast assisted to lay low?" "Ay, Reginald Front-de-Boeuf," answered she, "It is Ulrica!--it is the daughter of the murdered Torquil Wolfganger!--it is the sister of his slaughtered sons! it is she who demands of thee, and of thy father's house, father and kindred, name and fame--all that she has lost by the name of Front-de-Boeuf! Think of my wrongs, Front-de-Boeuf, and answer me if I speak not truth. Thou hast been my evil angel, and I will be thine: I will dog thee till the very instant of dissolution!" "Detestable fury!" exclaimed Front-de-Boeuf, "that moment shalt thou never witness. Ho! Giles, Clement, and Eustace! Saint Maur and Stephen! seize this damned witch, and hurl her from the battlements headlong; she has betrayed us to the Saxon! Ho! Saint Maur! Clement! false- hearted knaves, where tarry ye?" "Call on them again, valiant baron," said the hag, with a smile of grisly mockery; "summon thy vassals around thee, doom them that loiter to the scourge and the dungeon. But know, mighty chief," she continued, suddenly changing her tone, "thou shalt have neither answer, nor aid, nor obedience at their hands. Listen to these horrid sounds," for the din of the recommenced assault and defence now rung fearfully loud from the battlements of the castle; "in that warcry is the downfall of thy house. The blood-cemented fabric of Front-de-Boeuf's power totters to the foundation, and before the foes he most despised! The Saxon, Reginald!--the scorned Saxon assails thy walls! Why liest thou here, like a worn-out hind, when the Saxon storms thy place of strength? Thou shalt die no soldier's death, but perish like the fox in his den, when the peasants have set fire to the cover around it." "Hateful hag! thou liest!" exclaimed Front-de-Boeuf; "my followers bear them bravely--my walls are strong and high--my comrades in arms fear not a whole host of Saxons. The war-cry of the Templar and of the Free Companions rises high over the conflict! And by mine honor, when we kindle the blazing beacon for joy of our defence, it shall consume thee body and bones."