To the first, death by hanging: to the second, one and twenty years of dishonored life.
Which of them shall have most of pity? Which of them could we see again with gladness, or greet with a gay demeanor?
The fate of the young man I deem the better; because he is young, and because death took him in his beauty.
Strange it is what souls are woven together by destiny; and out of what substance life is wrought.
All men become something incredible to themselves; for they are unwound like a cocoon, and know not which way the thread doth run.
They dance like motes in the sunbeam for a moment, and then are illumined no more. Legend takes some of them, and they become pictures; and the rest, it would seem, enter again into nothingness.
Grant me to know the desire of mine own heart beforehand; that I may not be deceived. Give me not much, but a true thing, and one that lasts forever.
[The distant sound of cannonading is heard.]
Father Hudson. Surely I hear a sound disquieting—
Leader of Men. Wait: you shall know the cause.