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Death, be not proud. though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;

For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow, Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. (John Donnę, "Holy Sonnet X")

/ "Faithl" shouted Goodman Brown, in a voice of agony and desperation;; / the echoes of the forest mocked him, crying, "Faithl Faithl" as \f bewMdc / wretches were seeking her aII through the wilderness.

/ The ery of grief, ragę, and terror was yet piercing the night, when the / unhappy husband held his breath for a response. There was a scream / drowned immediately in a louder murmur of voices, fading into far-o / laughter, as the dark cloud swept away, leaving the elear and silent ;

/ above Goodman Brown. But something fluttered lightly down throti / air and caught on the branch of a tree. The young man seized \t, an / a pink ribbon.

/ "My Faith is gone!” cried he, after one stupefied moment. "There / on earth; and sin is but a name. Come, devil; for to thee is this w<

/ (Nathaniel Hawthorne, „Young Goodman Brown")_

I 3. 'What should we drink?' the girl asked. She had taken off hę it on the table.

'It‘s pretty hot,' the man said.

'Let's drink beer.'

'Dos cen/ezas,' the man said into the curtain.

'Big ones?' a woman asked from the doorway.

Yes. Two big ones/

The woman brought two glasses of beer and two felt pad pads and the beer glass on the table and looked at the m girl was looking off at the linę of hills, They were white

- Hry.