Mór Jókai,
Told by the Death's Head: A Romantic Tale
“ The maid knelt in the grass at my feet, bent meekly forward, and parted her beautiful hair at the back of her snowy neck, so that I might the more easily strike the fatal blow.But I didn't do anything of the sort!Instead, I flung the sword at the feet of the leader and cried:"Go to perdition, you red devil! You may devour me alive—I won't harm a hair of this pretty child's head.""Ho-ho," bellowed the red one, "you have betrayed yourself, my lad! Were you a peasant you would cut off the girl's head rather than lose your own. You are a noble—you would rather die yourself than harm a woman. ”
