Sympathy for you suggested the train of thought, and I considered it my duty to place before your eyes once more the abyss into which you might fall." "Be silent; it is too late," exclaimed Simon Turchi, beside himself with rage.

"Fool, do you desire my ruin--my eternal dishonor?
Shall I let my enemy live?
Shall I let him--him the husband of Mary Van de Werve--look down upon me from the height of his grandeur and felicity?
No, no.

I myself will be, must be, happy, rich, prosperous; and even should all escape my grasp; should the scaffold be my lot, the rage of vengeance which lacerates my heart must be satisfied....

Nothing, nothing, can restrain me; and, Julio, were you an obstacle in my path, I would pass over your dead body to strike a fatal blow at him who has poisoned my life.

Do not attempt to thwart me, or I will crush you where you stand." At these words Simon Turchi placed his hand on the hilt of his sword; his face was scarlet, his lips trembled, and his eyes flashed.
This threat did not disturb Julio, probably because he thought his master could not execute it.