And
from me, whom all fear, and all obey, you shall have love and worship."
"And he would have taken her hand; but she recoiled from horror.
"Though I now inspire you with terror and aversion," pursued "the time
will come when you will love me as passionately as I was beloved by
one of whom you are the image."
And she is dead? "asked Mabel, with curiosity.
"Dead I" exclaimed Herne. "Thrice fifty years have flown since she
dwelt upon earth. The acorn which was shed in the forest has grown
into a lusty oak, while trees at that time in their pride have fallen and
decayed away. Dead!--yes, she has passed from all memory save mine,
where she will ever dwell. Generations of men have gone down to the
grave since her time--a succession of kings have lodged within the
castle but I am still a denizen of the forest. For crimes I then committed
I am doomed to wander within it,and I shall haunt it, unless released, till
the crack of doom."
"Liberate me!" cried Mabel; "liberate your other prisoner and we will
pray for your release."
"No more of this!" cried Herne fiercely. "If you would not call down
instant and terrible punishment on your head - punishment that I cannot
avert, and must inflict--you will mention nothing sacred in my hearing,
and never allude to prayer, I am beyond the reach of salvation.
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