| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Lady Susan by Jane Austen: myself to dwell on them; they will strike you sufficiently. My heart
sickens within me. As soon as I was tolerably composed I returned to the
parlour. Sir James's carriage was at the door, and he, merry as usual, soon
afterwards took his leave. How easily does her ladyship encourage or
dismiss a lover! In spite of this release, Frederica still looks unhappy:
still fearful, perhaps, of her mother's anger; and though dreading my
brother's departure, jealous, it may be, of his staying. I see how closely
she observes him and Lady Susan, poor girl! I have now no hope for her.
There is not a chance of her affection being returned. He thinks very
differently of her from what he used to do; he does her some justice, but
his reconciliation with her mother precludes every dearer hope. Prepare, my
Lady Susan |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Kenilworth by Walter Scott: All, however, was as still as death, and the voices of those who
spoke in the inner chamber were, if they spoke at all, carefully
subdued to a tone which could not be heard in the next. At once,
however, they were heard to speak fast, thick, and hastily; and
presently after the voice of the Countess was heard exclaiming,
at the highest pitch to which indignation could raise it, "Undo
the door, sir, I command you!--undo the door!--I will have no
other reply!" she continued, drowning with her vehement accents
the low and muttered sounds which Varney was heard to utter
betwixt whiles. "What ho! without there!" she persisted,
accompanying her words with shrieks, "Janet, alarm the house!--
Kenilworth |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Pericles by William Shakespeare: Protest my ears were never better fed
With such delightful pleasing harmony.
PERICLES.
It is your grace's pleasure to commend;
Not my desert.
SIMONIDES.
Sir, you are music's master.
PERICLES.
The worst of all her scholars, my good lord.
SIMONIDES.
Let me ask you one thing:
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