But these which I bear are as certain as they are
fatal. My own ears heard the death-shot, my own eyes beheld thy
son's death--thy son's funeral. My tongue bears witness to what
my ears heard and my eyes saw."
The wretched female clasped her bands close together, and held
them up towards heaven like a sibyl announcing war and
desolation, while, in impotent yet frightful rage, she poured
forth a tide of the deepest imprecations. "Base Saxon churl!"
she exclaimed--"vile hypocritical juggler! May the eyes that
looked tamely on the death of my fair-haired boy be melted in
their sockets with ceaseless tears, shed for those that are
nearest and most dear to thee! May the ears that heard his
death-knell be dead hereafter to all other sounds save the
screech of the raven, and the hissing of the adder! May the
tongue that tells me of his death and of my own crime, be
withered in thy mouth--or better, when thou wouldst pray with thy
people, may the Evil One guide it, and give voice to blasphemies
instead of blessings, until men shall fly in terror from thy
presence, and the thunder of heaven be launched against thy head,
and stop for ever thy cursing and accursed voice! Begone, with
this malison! Elspat will never, never again bestow so many
words upon living man.
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