My friend, you are fearful; these deaths weigh upon your soul--aye, and on mine.

I loved that girl, whom as a babe I held in my arms, and even her rough father, I loved him for his honest heart, although he always mistrusted me, the Spaniard--and rightly.

The knight Harflete, too, who lies yonder, he was of a brave breed, but not one who would have served our turn.

Well, they are gone, and for these blood-sheddings we must find absolution." "If we can." "Oh! we can, we can.

Already I have it in my pouch, under a seal you know.