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They all said that he had spoken truly, and that it must have been so too on the former occasions. Then they rushed into the room. On hearing the noise Spes said to Thorsteinn: "You must go down here whatever it costs. Give me some sign that you have got away from the house." He promised that he would, and descended through the floor.
On another occasion, much later, Thorsteinn and Spes were sitting in a tiring-room where dresses were kept which belonged to them, both made up and in the piece. She showed many of the cloths to Thorsteinn and spread them out. When they were least expecting it her husband came up with a troop of men and broke into the room.
But as soon as Thorstein came out of the dungeon he went to see goodwife Spes, and she took him to her and kept him privily; but whiles was he with the Varangians in warfare, and in all onsets showed himself the stoutest of hearts. <i>Of the doings of Thorstein and the Lady Spes</i>. In those days was Harald Sigurdson at Micklegarth, and Thorstein fell into friendship with him.
Amongst these poor people there was a beggar very large of stature and with a long beard. The women halted at the swamp; being people of high rank they did not like to cross the dirty slough. The big beggar, seeing that Spes was better dressed than the other ladies, said to her: "Good lady, have the condescension to allow me to carry you over the swamp.
Then her relations began to talk with her and said that it was a great insult to a woman of high birth that such lies should be told about her and go unpunished, for they said it was an offence punishable with death if a woman were proved to have been unfaithful to her husband. So Spes asked the bishop to divorce her from Sigurd, saying that she would not endure the lies which he had told.
At this fatal period all regard to virtue and manners would likewise disappear; for despotism, cui ex honesto nulla est spes, tolerates no other master, wherever it reigns; the moment it speaks, probity and duty lose all their influence, and the blindest obedience is the only virtue the miserable slaves have left them to practise.
It rises somewhat higher upon the cheekbones, throwing the latter out into ghastly prominence. The lips and the eyes will give us no clew, for the former are red from fever, and the latter are bright from the gentle, half-dreamy state produced by the toxins of the disease, the so-called "spes phthisica" the everlasting and pathetic hopefulness of the consumptive.
A worthy scion of the old stock of Waverley-Honour spes altera, as Maro hath it and you have the look of the old line, Captain Waverley; not so portly yet as my old friend Sir Everard mais cela viendra avec le tems, as my Dutch acquaintance, Baron Kikkitbroeck, said of the sagesse of Madame son epouse. And so ye have mounted the cockade?
Nothing shall be lost of these words of life which have fallen from Wisdom's lips; they are treasured now in many hearts, and some day, near or distant, they will be one and all incorporated in some diviner gospel than any which has yet been heard, and preached in some church, vast enough, catholic enough, for the inspiration of the race. Reposita est haec spes in sinu meo.
Even the deadliest and most serious of infectious diseases, consumption, has as is well known as one of its prominent symptoms an irrepressible hopefulness and confidence that they will get well, on the part of a considerable percentage of its victims. This has even been formally designated in the classical medical treatises as the "Spes Phthisica," or "Consumptive Hope."
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