“Would it were so!”
Sir Silas.
“Would it were so! in thy teeth, hypocrite!”
Sir Thomas.
“And, truly, I likewise do incline to hope and credit it, as thus paraphrased and expounded.”
William Shakspeare.
“Wait until this blessed day next year, sir, at the same hour. You shall see it forth again at its due season; it would be no miracle if it lasted. Spittle may cure sore eyes, but not blasted mouths and scald consciences.”
Sir Thomas.
“Why! who taught thee all this?”
Then turned he leisurely toward Sir Silas, and placing his hand outspreaden upon the arm of the chaplain, said unto him in a low, judicial, hollow voice,—