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Yazar: Adam Mickiewicz

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"No, never!" shouted Thaddeus. "At present I have no intention
whatever of marrying, nor of making love-nonsense! Let's drop the
matter! I beg you, my dear, bethink yourself! Be calm! I am
grateful to you, but it is impossible for us to marry; let us
love each other, but just-in different places. I cannot remain
longer; no, no, I must go. Farewell, my Telimena, I leave
to-morrow."
He spoke, pulled his hat over his eyes, and turned aside, meaning
to depart; but Telimena checked him with an eye and countenance
like those of Medusa's head: against his will he had to remain;
he looked with terror on her form; she had become pale, without
motion, breath, or life. At last, stretching out an arm like a
sword to transfix him, with her finger aimed straight at the eyes
of Thaddeus, she cried:-

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