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I waited some time; but at last in stalked the Duke, looking very awful indeed so stern and severe that I could not help smiling, and saying "The burnt coppice, your Grace."
In Scotland four thousand had suffered death for it in ten years; Cologne, Nuremberg, Geneva, Paris, were executing hundreds every year; even in 1749 a girl was burnt alive in Würtzburg; and is it strange, if, during all that wild excitement, Massachusetts put to death twenty?
He went himself to the place where the fire raged with the greatest violence, whilst his wife and daughters were giving out from the study the valuable papers, which, as he directed, were thrown in one heap on the lawn, at a sufficient distance from the house to prevent any danger of their being burnt most of them were in tin cases that were easily removed the loose papers and books were put into baskets, and covered with wet blankets, so that the pieces of the burning trellis, which fell upon them as they were carried out, did them no injury.
Whether it be the fruit of the field or the firstling of the flock that is offered at the sacred stone, whether the offering is burnt before the god or set down and left near him, or whether he is summoned to come down from the sky or to travel from the far country to which he may have gone, it is of the materials of a meal that the sacrifice consists.
Many of the villages had been burnt and, in all cases, the sacred trees had been cut down. It was quite clear that the spirit of the enemy was greatly broken, and that the end was approaching. "We must certainly congratulate ourselves upon having a comfortable time of it, here," Lisle said, "instead of a ten days' tramp, without any great result.
"A soldier! then you have slain and burnt, and sacked and spoiled?" "I winna say," replied Edie, "that I have been better than my neighbours; it's a rough trade war's sweet to them that never tried it." "And you are now old and miserable, asking from precarious charity the food which in your youth you tore from the hand of the poor peasant?"
We are going through some of old Sacchetti's novelets now: characteristic work for Florence, if somewhat dull elsewhere. Boccaccios can't be expected to spring up with the vines in rows, even in this climate. We got a newly printed addition to Savonarola's poems the other day, very flat and cold, they did not catch fire when he was burnt.
He then ran back and succeeded in reaching the two boys and putting them beside their mother, but not before the eldest had been badly burnt. As for the baby, she died in a few days, and it was thought that her mother, who had been borne unconscious to the house of a neighbour, could hardly survive her many hours.
"Do you suppose that I don't know that you ran away the night of the fire? Do you suppose that I don't know that you were next to ruined that night, and that you took that opportunity of skedaddling out of the country with all the money you had left, and leaving folks to imagine you were burnt up with the books you had falsified and the accounts you had doctored!
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