| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Egmont by Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe: appears impossible. In this hope I take my leave.
Alva (who at the same time makes a sign to Ferdinand). Hold, Egmont!--
Your sword!-
(The centre door opens and discloses the gallery, which is occupied with
guards, who remain motionless.)
Egmont (after a pause of astonishment). This was the intention? For this
thou hast summoned me? (Grasping his sword as if to defend himself.)
Am I then weaponless?
Alva. The king commands. Thou art my prisoner. (At the same time
guards enter from both sides.)
Egmont (after a pause). The king?--Orange! Orange! (after a pause,
Egmont |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Europeans by Henry James: but she noted a great many things and made her reflections.
She was a little excited; she felt that she had indeed come
to a strange country, to make her fortune. Superficially, she was
conscious of a good deal of irritation and displeasure;
the Baroness was a very delicate and fastidious person.
Of old, more than once, she had gone, for entertainment's sake
and in brilliant company, to a fair in a provincial town.
It seemed to her now that she was at an enormous fair--
that the entertainment and the desagrements were very much the same.
She found herself alternately smiling and shrinking;
the show was very curious, but it was probable, from moment
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey: deep, wide ravine separating the fields of Glaze from the wild
sage. He had been surrounded north of Sterling; and he had broken
through the line. How often had been told the story of day
stampedes, of night raids, of pursuit, and then how the Masked
Rider, swift as the wind, was gone in the sage! A fleet, dark
horse--a slender, dark form--a black mask--a driving run down the
slope--a dot on the purple sage--a shadowy, muffled steed
disappearing in the night!
And this Masked Rider of the uplands had been Elizabeth Erne!
The sweet sage wind rushed in Venters's face and sang a song in
his ears. He heard the dull, rapid beat of Night's hoofs; he saw
Riders of the Purple Sage |
