the third line, divided, shows its subject keeping his excellence under restraint, but firmly maintaining it. if he should have occasion to engage in the king's service, though he will not claim the success for himself, he will bring affairs to a good issue.
the fourth line, divided, shows the symbol of a sack tied up. there will be no ground for blame or for praise.
this is wonderful--oh, wonderful!--to see her, with every innocent feeling fresh within her, go out in the morning into her garden to play with the fringes of its guarded flowers, and lift their heads when they are drooping, with her happy smile upon her face, and no cloud upon her brow, because there is a little wall around her place of peace: and yet she knows, in her heart, if she would only look for its knowledge, that, outside of that little rose-covered wall, the wild grass, to the horizon, is torn up by the agony of men, and beat level by the the drift of their life-blood.
yes, it is useless; there is no escaping the truth the voice tells. so
hazel yields herself to listen as it goes on.
bloody and guilty, guiltily awake,
and in a bloody battle end thy days!
think on lord hastings. despair and die.
quiet untroubled soul, awake, awake!
arm, fight, and conquer,
for fair england's sake!
after a further embarrassing silence he relented enough to give cleggett another chance.
there was nothing beneath the dignity of lucullus which he did not now submit to bear, entreating them one by one, from tent to tent, going up and down humbly and in tears, and even taking some like a suppliant, by the hand. but they turned away from his salutes, and threw down their empty purses, bidding him engage alone with the enemy, as he alone made advantage of it. at length, by the entreaty of the other soldiers, the fimbrians, being prevailed upon, consented to tarry that summer under him, but if during that time no enemy came to fight them, to be free. lucullus of necessity was forced to comply with this, or else to abandon the country to the barbarians.
"we'll have to chance that. i'm glad you like the plan."
wilding was shocked at the change that had been wrought in monmouth's appearance during the few weeks since last he had seen him. his face was thin, pale, and haggard, his eyes were more sombre, and beneath them there were heavy, dark stains of sleeplessness and care, his very voice, when presently he spoke, seemed to have lost the musical timbre that had earlier distinguished it; it was grown harsh and rasping. disappointment after disappointment, set down to ill-luck, but in reality the fruit of incompetence, had served to sour him.