So near the haven, and to fail now! It could not be; it must not be.

I summoned all my resolution, all my fortitude; but in vain.

Nature demanded payment for the abuses she had suffered.
"If we proceed thus," she ventured fearfully, "you leaning against me, and going at a slow pace--no faster than a walk--think you, you can bear it?
Try, good Messer 'Biancomonte." "I will try, Madonna," I replied.

"Perhaps thus, and if I am silent, we may yet reach Pesaro together.

If not--if my strength gives out--the town is yonder and the day is coming.