Be ruled by me, and you shall have a deep and full revenge."
"Say on," rejoined Wyat, his eyes blazing with infernal fire, and his hand
involuntarily clutching the handle of his dagger.
If I read you aright," continued the cardinal, "you are arrived at that
pitch of desperation when life itself becomes indifferent, and when but
one object remains to be gained--
"And that is vengeance!" interrupted Wyat fiercely. "Right, cardinal--
right. I will have vengeance--terrible vengeance!"
"You shall. But I will not deceive you. You will purchase what you seek
at the price of your own head."
"I care not," replied Wyat. "All sentiments of love and loyalty are
swallowed up by jealousy and burning hate. Nothing but blood can
allay the fever that consumes me. Show me how to slay him!"
"Him!" echoed the cardinal, in alarm and horror. "Wretch! would you kill
your king? God forbid that I should counsel the injury of a hair of his
head! I do not want you to play the assassin, Wyat," he added more
calmly, "but the just avenger. Liberate the king from the thraldom of
the capricious siren who enslaves him, and you will do a service to the
whole country. A word from you--a letter--a token--will cast her from the
king, and place her on the block.
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