| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Kenilworth by Walter Scott: before any one save my lawful Sovereign. Leicester, thou wilt
say, is noble. Be it so; he is but a subject like ourselves, and
I will not carry my plaint to him, if I can do better. Still, I
will think on what thou hast said; but I must have your
assistance to persuade the good Sir Hugh to make me his
commissioner and fiduciary in this matter, for it is in his name
I must speak, and not in my own. Since she is so far changed as
to dote upon this empty profligate courtier, he shall at least do
her the justice which is yet in his power."
"Better she died CAELEBS and SINE PROLE," said Mumblazen, with
more animation than he usually expressed, "than part, PER PALE,
Kenilworth |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Grimm's Fairy Tales by Brothers Grimm: water. They leapt with delight, put out their heads, and cried to him:
'We will remember you and repay you for saving us!'
He rode on, and after a while it seemed to him that he heard a voice
in the sand at his feet. He listened, and heard an ant-king complain:
'Why cannot folks, with their clumsy beasts, keep off our bodies? That
stupid horse, with his heavy hoofs, has been treading down my people
without mercy!' So he turned on to a side path and the ant-king cried
out to him: 'We will remember you--one good turn deserves another!'
The path led him into a wood, and there he saw two old ravens standing
by their nest, and throwing out their young ones. 'Out with you, you
idle, good-for-nothing creatures!' cried they; 'we cannot find food
Grimm's Fairy Tales |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Silverado Squatters by Robert Louis Stevenson: coats, men and women, whom we found camped in a grove on the
roadside, all on pleasure bent, with a Chinaman to cook for
them, and who waved their hands to us as we drove by.
CHAPTER IV - THE SCOT ABROAD
A FEW pages back, I wrote that a man belonged, in these days,
to a variety of countries; but the old land is still the true
love, the others are but pleasant infidelities. Scotland is
indefinable; it has no unity except upon the map. Two
languages, many dialects, innumerable forms of piety, and
countless local patriotisms and prejudices, part us among
ourselves more widely than the extreme east and west of that
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