| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from An Historical Mystery by Honore de Balzac: doubt reckoning on his physical strength to fling the spy into seven
feet of mud below three feet of water. Michu replied with a look that
was not less fixed. The scene was absolutely as if a cold and flabby
boa constrictor had defied one of those tawny, fierce leopards of
Brazil.
"I am not thirsty," said Corentin, stopping short at the edge of the
field and putting his hand into his pocket to feel for his dagger.
"We shall never come to terms," said Michu, coldly.
"Mind what you're about, my good fellow; the law has its eye upon
you."
"If the law can't see any clearer than you, there's danger to every
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Voyage to Abyssinia by Father Lobo: as to escape being killed by the inhabitants, and to discover a way,
I should either return, or send back the Abyssin or Portuguese.
Having fixed upon this, I hired a little bark to Jubo, a place about
forty leagues distant from Pate, on board which I put some
provisions, together with my sacerdotal vestments, and all that was
necessary for saying mass: in this vessel we reached the coast,
which we found inhabited by several nations: each nation is subject
to its own king; these petty monarchies are so numerous, that I
counted at least ten in less than four leagues.
Chapter II
The author lands: The difficulty of his journey. An account of the
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Rape of Lucrece by William Shakespeare: And whom she finds forlorn she doth lament:
At last she sees a wretched image bound,
That piteous looks to Phrygian shepherds lent:
His face, though full of cares, yet show'd content;
Onward to Troy with the blunt swains he goes,
So mild, that Patience seem'd to scorn his woes.
In him the painter labour'd with his skill
To hide deceit, and give the harmless show
An humble gait, calm looks, eyes wailing still,
A brow unbent, that seem'd to welcome woe;
Cheeks neither red nor pale, but mingled so
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