Now to-day a Spaniard had wandered to Ditchingham, and when he learned my name had fallen upon me madly trying to kill me.

Was not this the man whom my mother feared, and was it right that I should leave him thus that I might go maying with my dear?
I knew in my breast that it was not right, but I was so set upon my desire and so strongly did my heartstrings pull me towards her whose white robe now fluttered on the slope of the Park Hill, that I never heeded the warning.
Well had it been for me if I had done so, and well for some who were yet unborn.

Then they had never known death, nor I the land of exile, the taste of slavery, and the altar of sacrifice..