Fleetword was the first to speak.
"In the name of the Lord, I charge thee, avoid our path, young maniac! for, of a truth, there is little sobriety, little steadiness, in thy look, which savoureth neither of peace nor contentment. What wouldst thou with my friend?—This is his bridal-day, and he has no leisure for such as thee."
"The devil take thee with him, thou everlasting pestilence!" exclaimed Burrell to the preacher, fiercely, forgetting all moderation in the excess of his passion; for at the word "bridal" a change as awful as can be imagined to shadow the face of woman rested on the countenance of Zillah. "Avoid me, both of ye!" he continued; "and you, young sir, who so eagerly rush upon your own destruction, avoid me especially: the time for trifling is past!"
During this burst of rage, the Jewess kept her eyes steadily fixed upon Burrell, and held her hand within the bosom of her vest. When he paused, she addressed him at first in broken English, and then finding that she could not proceed with the eagerness and fluency her case required, she spoke in French.
She first appealed to her seducer's honour; referred to his marriage with her; called to mind his protestations of affection, and used all the entreaties which a woman's heart so naturally suggests, to arouse his better feelings on her behalf. All was in vain; for Burrell parried it all, managing to recover his self-possession while she exhausted herself with words. She then vowed that, if he failed to render her justice, she would, as she had threatened at a former time, throw herself, and the proofs she possessed of his villany, at the Protector's feet, and be his ruin. Sir Willmott then sought to temporise, assured her that it was necessity obliged him to forsake her; and would have persuaded her to meet him or go with him into the house, where, he assured her, he could perhaps arrange—perhaps——
"No," she replied, in the less strong, but more poetic language of France, "I will go under no roof with you, I will exchange no token, no pledge with you. I believe you would follow me to the death; and if you fail to do me justice, I will pursue you to the same, and not you alone. No woman but myself shall ever rest upon your bosom. I swear by the God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, that I will have vengeance, though my nation should spill out my blood as a sacrifice before the Lord for my iniquities, the next hour!" She shook back her head as she pronounced the vow, and her hair, loosened from its confinement, cloaked her slight figure with a robe of darkness.
"Acknowledge your marriage with me before this holy man," she continued: "although he is a Christian, I have heard that he is honest—and I will leave you for a time."
"Peace, Zillah!" interrupted Burrell; "there was no marriage. It is a fable of your own invention—you have no proof."
"Have I not?" she replied, and, with woman's luckless imprudence, she drew forth a small packet and held it for an instant towards him. That instant was enough: he snatched the documents from her hand, and held them before her with the exultation of a demon. His triumph, however, was but short-lived, for Fleetword, who comprehended what had passed, was sufficiently alive to its importance to seize the papers from the Master of Burrell before he had the least idea that the preacher would have dared such an act. Sir Willmott stood amazed at his presumption: but instantly Fleetword drew forth the basket-hilted sword we have before noticed, and with more real intellect, and excellent feeling, than a cavalier would have believed he possessed, exclaimed,—
"Sir Willmott Burrell! When Solomon sat in judgment in Israel, he despised not the cause even of the worst. It hath been given me to understand the tongues of many lands—not by the intervention of the Holy Spirit, but by the industry and labour of my poor brain, aided, as all just and fitting things are, by the blessing of the Lord! If what this person says is true, it would be most unseemly for you to become the husband of Mistress Constantia Cecil; if it is not true, why the person must fall by its (for of a truth I cannot determine the sex)—its own falsehood! But keep off, Master of Burrell! Jonas Fleetword can fight for the truth by strength of hand as well as of voice; the documents shall be heard of at the seat of judgment in our New Jerusalem."