“He had chosen this fragile creature, and had taken the burthen of her life upon his arms. He must walk as he could, carrying that burthen pitifully.
CHAPTER LXXXII. «My grief lies onward and my joy behind.»
—SHAKESPEARE: Sonnets. Exiles notoriously feed much on hopes, and are unlikely to stay in banishment unless they are obliged.
When Will Ladislaw exiled himself from Middlemarch he had placed no stronger obstacle to his return than his own resolve, which was by no means an iron barrier, but simply a state of mind liable to melt into a minuet with other states of mind, and to find itself bowing, smiling, and giving place with polite facility.”