Dearest heart, prithee put off your journey until sunrise and sleep in your own bed to-night.
Of all nights in the year, this one must I tarry away from thee.
My mind is made up, not another step will I budge on this errand.
Sit here and rest yourself, and when you feel like moving again, here is my staff to help you along.
My Faith is gone!
Welcome my children.
Faith! Faith! look up to heaven and resist the wicked one.
Dearest heart, im so happy your home.
I do not trust you anymmore...
A stern, a sad, a darkly meditative, a distrustful, if not desperate man did he become from the night of that fearful dream. And when he had long lived, they carved no hopeful verse upon his tombstone, for his dying hour was gloom.