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Per deam Partulam et Pertundam nunc est bibendum! All off for a buster, armstrong, hollering down the street. Bonafides. Where you slep las nigh? Timothy of the battered naggin. Like ole Billyo. Any brollies or gumboots in the fambly? Where the Henry Nevil's sawbones and ole clo? Sorra one o' me knows. Hurrah there, Dix! Forward to the ribbon counter. Where's Punch? All serene.
You are still on the other side of the Alps, of the Channel; the fogs yet cling about you. Clear your brow, O painter of Ossianic wildernesses! Taste the foam of life! We are in the land of Horace, and nunc est bibendum! Seriously, do you never relax?" "Oh yes. You should see me over the fifth tumbler of whiskey at Stornoway." "Bah! you might as well say the fifth draught of fish-oil North Cape.
Amantium irae amoris integratio has had another illustration, Mr. Bailie; but it would please us that you should hear the class translate the Ode we have in hand, which happens to be 'Ad Sodales." And a boy began to translate "Nunc est bibendum." "Time to drink, did ye say?" and the Bailie, who had been taking a brief nap, was immediately conscious. "Man, ye never said a truer word.
Then back to the dear old dusky chambers, with the pick and the axe in the mine of law, till I strike a gold vein, and follow it to the woolsack. I want peace. I begin to hate pleading. I hope to meet Death full-wigged. By my troth, I will look as grimly at him as he at me. You deserve a holiday. Nunc est bibendum! You shall sing it. Tell me what you think of her behaviour.
Then back to the dear old dusky chambers, with the pick and the axe in the mine of law, till I strike a gold vein, and follow it to the woolsack. I want peace. I begin to hate pleading. I hope to meet Death full-wigged. By my troth, I will look as grimly at him as he at me. You deserve a holiday. Nunc est bibendum! You shall sing it. Tell me what you think of her behaviour.
He had sat down to rest beneath a large poplar tree on a big round stone that had often served him as a seat before, and he had just come to the verses, beginning with the beautiful words: "Nunc est bibendum! Nunc pede libero, Pulsando tellus...." when the sound of approaching footsteps disturbed his tranquil enjoyment.
Meanwhile we resumed our merriment. "Nunc est bibendum," said Vincent, as Bedos placed the punch on the table. "Give us a toast, Dartmore." Lord Dartmore was a young man, with tremendous spirits, which made up for wit.
Ye base-born apes, that’s why you catch the pestilence, because our blood mantles and foams in our ruddy veins like new milk in the wine cup, which is too strong for this clime, and my blood is up, and I drink a full measure of it to great Rome; for what does old Horace say, but ‘Nunc est bibendum’? and so get out of my way.”
Clarence, my friend, nunc est bibendum; but take care of the pede libero, which won't do for walking on lava!" The bottle was finished, the bill paid, the gentlemen mounted, the landlord bowed, and they bent their way in the cool of the delightful evening towards Resina.
There is an absurd belief amongst them, that drink keeps off disease and preserves life, a case of aut bibendum aut moriendum; whereas the truth is precisely the contrary, for in that climate spirits are poison. The fact probably is, that they drink to dispel ennui, and to banish, at least for a while, the regret they feel at having exchanged Europe for Java. Dr.
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