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Methinks it is the other way around. Why, look ye, man! Here thou dost go a-junketing through all the earth to find a chance to show unequalled courage, and when kind Fate doth shove it underneath thy very nose, thou turn'st away, lamenting. I've heard of those who know not beans although the bag be opened, and now I laugh to see one of that very kind before me."
"Things sort not to my will, Even when my will doth study Thy renown: Thou turn'st the edge of all things on me still, Taking me up to throw me down." Then, lifting a heavy bramble that had fallen across his path, the schoolmaster stooped under it, and passed from sight.
'Tis not a ro'd proper but indistink like an' wanderin'. So Ah be feared o' missin' it." "T' owd Drovers' Track, tha meanst. 'Tis easy findin'," said the girl. "Thou turn'st off to left by two thorns wi' a white stone by root o' t' girt 'un. But they stand a long mile down t' road.
I read a something, Carlos, in thy looks Unknown to me before. Thou turn'st thine eyes Away from me. Then it is true, and have I Judged thee aright? Here, let me see that paper. In truth I must confess it, That letter was of deepest moment to me. MARQUIS. So it appeared: on that account I tore it. A long silence. Now speak to me with candor, Carlos.
Justice sprouteth, righteousness is here, Thy sin is forgot, thou hast naught to fear. Lo, the night is o'er, the day is breaking! Arise and see where'er thou turn'st thy face, How changed are both our time and place. And in Yiddish, too, an anonymous poet echoed the strain: Arise, my people, awake from thy dreaming, In foolishness be not immersed!
Speak but my name above my tomb; the groaning of my bones, Turning towards thy voice's sound, shall answer drearily. And she wept and recited the following: My day of bliss is that whereon thou drawest near to me; And that whereon thou turn'st away, my day of death and fear. What though I tremble all the night and be in dread of death, Yet thine embraces are to me than safety far more dear.
And you will have your own squire, she added, looking at Jean. 'That's as he lists, said Jean scornfully. 'Ah, Jeanie, Jeanie, thou mayst have to rue it if thou turn'st lightly from a leal heart. 'I'm not damsel-errant of romance, as thou and Elleen would fain be, said Jean. 'Nay, said Margaret, 'love is not mere romance.
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