I am not so bad as you think.

The fortune of war flung me under the Spanish flag, and 'whose bread I eat, his song I sing,' says the soldier.

What would you have?
I served with honor, and have done some doughty deeds; let that content you." This angered Ruth, who resolutely exclaimed: "No, a thousand times no! You are the Eletto of Aalst, the pillager of cities, and this cannot be swept aside as easily as the dust from the floor.

I...

I am only a feeble girl;--but father, he will never give his hand to the blood-stained man in Spanish garb! I know him, I know it." Ulrich's breath came quicker; but he repressed the angry emotion and replied, first reproachfully, then beseechingly: "You are the old man's echo.