Who, I, Sir, to find you bowels you naturally have not? I to purchase their happiness by the forfeiture of my own? What I ask you for, is mercy to myself: that, since you seem to have some power over my relations, you will use it in my behalf. Tell them, that you see I cannot conquer my aversion to you: tell them, if you are a wise man, that you too much value your own happiness, to risk it against such a determined antipathy: tell them that I am unworthy of your offers: and that in mercy to yourself, as well as to me, you will not prosecute a suit so impossible to be granted.
I will risque all consequences, said the fell wretch, rising, with a countenance whitened over, as if with malice, his hollow eyes flashing fire, and biting his under lip, to shew he could be manly. Your hatred, Madam, shall be no objection with me: and I doubt not in a few days to have it in my power to shew you—
You have it in your power, Sir—
He came well off—To shew you more generosity than, noble as you are said to be to others, you shew to me.
The man's face became his anger: it seems formed to express the passion.
At that instant, again in came my brother—Sister, Sister, Sister, said he, with his teeth set, act on the termagant part you have so newly assumed—most wonderfully well does it become you. It is but a short one, however. Tyraness in your turn, accuse others of your own guilt—But leave her, leaver her, Mr. Solmes: her time is short. You'll find her humble and mortified enough very quickly. Then, how like a little tame fool will she look, with her conscience upbraiding her, and begging of you [with a whining voice, the barbarous brother spoke] to forgive and forget!
More he said, as he flew out, with a glowing face, upon Shorey's coming in to recall him on his violence.
I removed from chair to chair, excessively frighted and disturbed at this brutal treatment.
The man attempted to excuse himself, as being sorry for my brother's passion.
Leave me, leave me, Sir, fanning—or I shall faint. And indeed I thought I should.