The Abbot
img img The Abbot img Chapter 12 No.12
12
Chapter 1 * * *
Chapter 2 No.2
Chapter 3 No.3
Chapter 4 No.4
Chapter 5 No.5
Chapter 6 No.6
Chapter 7 No.7
Chapter 8 No.8
Chapter 9 No.9
Chapter 10 No.10
Chapter 11 No.11
Chapter 12 No.12
Chapter 13 No.13
Chapter 14 No.14
Chapter 15 No.15
Chapter 16 No.16
Chapter 17 No.17
Chapter 18 No.18
Chapter 19 No.19
Chapter 20 No.20
Chapter 21 No.21
Chapter 22 No.22
Chapter 23 No.23
Chapter 24 No.24
Chapter 25 No.25
Chapter 26 No.26
Chapter 27 No.27
Chapter 28 No.28
Chapter 29 No.29
Chapter 30 No.30
Chapter 31 No.31
Chapter 32 No.32
Chapter 33 No.33
Chapter 34 No.34
Chapter 35 No.35
Chapter 36 No.36
Chapter 37 No.37
Chapter 38 No.38
Chapter 39 No.39
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Chapter 12 No.12

Life hath its May, and is mirthful then:

The woods are vocal, and the flowers all odour;

Its very blast has mirth in't,-and the maidens,

The while they don their cloaks to screen their kirtles,

Laugh at the rain that wets them.

OLD PLAY.

Catherine was at the happy age of innocence and buoyancy of spirit, when, after the first mome

             
            

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