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Updated: June 7, 2025
In exchange for his soul, the devil offers him youth, beauty, and love, and, as an earnest of what is to come, shows him a vision of the gentle Margaret sitting at her spinning wheel. Faust is enraptured, hastily signs the contract, and hurries away with his attendant fiend. The next act is taken up with a Kermesse in the market-place of a country town.
He hardly pays much attention to this; he is listening to the poem which the man in the box is reciting with a nasal and metallic snuffle in his voice: There's a harp and a crown, For you and for me, Hanging on the boughs Of that Christmas tree! He hears, and then hurries on again, repeating the stanza mechanically to himself, without seeing anything particularly ludicrous about it.
What an incalculable field of dread and sombre contemplation is opened to every man who, with his heart disengaged from himself, and his eyes accustomed to the sharp observance of his tribe, walks through the streets of a great city! What a world of dark and troublous secrets in the breast of every one who hurries by you!
They are taking the sick man South; this is what the villagers think. But when the train reaches the city, this select party disbands. John Arthur becomes active once more and, with his sister, hurries away in the nearest cab, while the Professor and Cora separate by mutual consent. And here we will leave them all but Cora. She has escaped Scylla only to fall upon Charybdis.
A fullblossomed carnation falls from Barefoot's hand, but lands on the valise behind him; he does not see it, and it lies there in the road. Barefoot hurries down and recovers the treacherous token. And now the truth comes over her like the dawning of a terrible day. This is the suitor for Rose this is he of whom she spoke last evening. And is this man to be deceived?
He was there some time, for your hedgehog rarely hurries; and when he came out again, his little pig's eyes gleaming red under their spined cowl, it was with the same snuffling, softly grunting deliberation with which he had gone in; but the pale moon, that showed the gleam in his eyes, showed also blood on his snout, and on the bristles of his forefeet, blood.
"It contains what shall secure your happiness!" Brangaene joyfully hurries to fetch the small golden coffer, lifts the lid, fingers the phials. "In this very order were they placed by your mother, the mighty magic potions. For hurts and wounds here is balm; here, for poison, is counterpoison...." She takes out and holds up before Isolde with a significant smile a small flask.
He will bring up out of the sea of his memory that same short, matter-of-fact recital. The rural interviewers, unused to the needs of the city service faithful to the sources of their news finish the concise tale. It covers a quarter of a column. That will never do for Corkey's paper. He knows it well. He reaches Wiarton. He hurries to the telegraph office. He buys a half-dozen tales of the sea.
In its periodic fury the spirit hurries them into wars and orgies, quite as it kindles sudden flaming visions in their brains, habitually so torpid. The spontaneous is the worst of tyrants, for it exercises a needless and fruitless tyranny in the guise of duty and inspiration.
And when he walks out of a morning, thus conditioned, his friends greet him with: "Hi! ho! Mister Toddleworth is uppish this morning." He has bid his charge good morning, and hurries back to his wonted haunts. There is a mysterious and melancholy interest in this man's history, which many have attempted but failed to fathom.
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