| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Gobseck by Honore de Balzac: go, I wonder? Not to the crown; I have left a will, look for it,
Grotius. La belle Hollandaise had a daughter; I once saw the girl
somewhere or other, in the Rue Vivienne, one evening. They call her
"La Torpille," I believe; she is as pretty as pretty can be; look her
up, Grotius. You are my executor; take what you like; help yourself.
There are Strasburg pies, there, and bags of coffee, and sugar, and
gold spoons. Give the Odiot service to your wife. But who is to have
the diamonds? Are you going to take them, lad? There is snuff too--
sell it at Hamburg, tobaccos are worth half as much again at Hamburg.
All sorts of things I have in fact, and now I must go and leave them
all.--Come, Papa Gobseck, no weakness, be yourself!'
Gobseck |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Duchesse de Langeais by Honore de Balzac: thought soothes the anguish of my final ordeal. So calm am I
that I should fear that I had ceased to love you if I were not
about to leave the world for your sake.
"ANTOINETTE."
"Dear Vidame," said the Duchess as they reached Montriveau's
house, "do me the kindness to ask at the door whether he is at
home." The Vidame, obedient after the manner of the eighteenth
century to a woman's wish, got out, and came back to bring his
cousin an affirmative answer that sent a shudder through her.
She grasped his hand tightly in hers, suffered him to kiss her on
either cheek, and begged him to go at once. He must not watch
|
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Kenilworth by Walter Scott: the heart to quit that convenient old religion, which you could
slip off or on as easily as your glove? Do I not remember how
you were wont to carry your conscience to confession, as duly as
the month came round? and when thou hadst it scoured, and
burnished, and whitewashed by the priest, thou wert ever ready
for the worst villainy which could be devised, like a child who
is always readiest to rush into the mire when he has got his
Sunday's clean jerkin on."
"Trouble not thyself about my conscience," said Foster; "it is a
thing thou canst not understand, having never had one of thine
own. But let us rather to the point, and say to me, in one word,
Kenilworth |
