You shall have an hour in which to resolve what you will do.

When they open this door for you at sunset, come forth clad as you are, and you shall hang.

If you prefer to live, then don me that robe and cap of motley, and, on condition that you are merry, life is yours.'" I paused a moment.

Our horses were moving slowly, for the tale engrossed us both, me in the telling, her in the hearing.

Presently-- "I need not harass you with the reflections that were mine during that hour, Madonna.