Chesterton aliterante

[Keitel y Carradine en guardia, paisaje digno de Monet si hubiera amapolas. The Duellists (1977) está basado en un relato de Conrad, pero Ridley Scott seguramente leyó también a Chesterton.]

[...] But he saw that these fears were fancies, for he found himself in the presence of the great fact of the fear of death, with its coarse and pitiless common sense. He felt like a man who had dreamt all night of falling over precipices, and woke up on the morning when he was to be hanged. For as soon as he had seen the sunlight run down the channel of his foe's foreshortened blade, and as soon as he had felt the two tongues of steel touch, vibrating like two living things, he knew that his enemy was a terrible fighter, and that probably his last hour had come.

He felt a strange and vivid value in all the earth around him, in the grass under his feet; he felt the love of life in all living things. He could almost fancy that he heard the grass growing; he could almost fancy that even as he stood fresh flowers were springing up and breaking into blossom in the meadow - flowers blood-red and burning gold and blue, fulfilling the whole pageant of the spring. And whenever his eyes strayed for a flash from the calm, staring, hypnotic eyes of the Marquis, the saw the little tuft of almond trees against the skyline. He had the feeling that if by some miracle he escaped he would be ready to sit for ever before that almond tree, desiring nothing else in the world.

[G.K. CHESTERTON (2007) The Man Who Was Thursday. London: Penguin. Pg. 127]