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CARLOS. Is't possible! Did you then never guess how dear to me Was he who here lies dead? Thou lifeless corpse! Instruct him aid his wisdom, to resolve This dark enigma now. He was my friend. And would you know why he has perished thus? He gave his life for me. KING. Ha? my suspicions! CARLOS. Pardon, thou bleeding corpse, that I profane Thy virtue to such ears.
"If you know the man, as you say, Senor, you will also know that it will not be of the slightest use to charge him with complicity in this," answered Panza. "Possibly not," agreed Carlos. "Yet it would enable us to give Senor Alvaros a hint that his machinations are known, and that henceforth we shall be on our guard against them." "Very well, Senor," agreed the would-be assassin.
In ecstasy of passion, prince the scene Was truly touching for you seized the hand, The blessed Virgin's cold and holy hand, And showered your burning kisses on the marble. CARLOS. Princess, you wrong me: that was pure devotion! PRINCESS. Indeed! that's quite another thing. That prompted you to play it for a card? CARLOS. What words are these? O Heaven, what have I done?
That man has three packs of cards in his shoes; you can see that by the place of his foot in the shoe; besides, a peace-officer need wear no disguise." Corentin hurried downstairs to verify his suspicions: Carlos was getting into the fly. "Hallo! Monsieur l'Abbe!" cried Corentin. Carlos looked around, saw Corentin, and got in quickly.
But asking for 10,000 men from England to destroy Don Carlos, who was shut up in the mountains, was a matter really not to be seriously thought of. The object was not to bring 10,000, or 15,000, or 20,000 men into action, but to bring the red coats and the blue coats, the French and English troops, into the contest; that was the object, and the view was, to produce a moral effect.
Duke of Arthur Wellesley Wellington - Maxims and Opinions of Field-Marshal His Grace the Duke of Wellington, Selected From His Writings and Speeches During a Public Life of More Than Half a Century
"It is a great gamble, and you, fair lady, are the stake," said Don Carlos. "The stage is set and our fate will be decided within a few minutes." He nodded his cowled head, shouted some orders in Spanish to his men, and took up a position beside the whipping-post, which somewhat resembled an ancient pillory.
These vaqueros, these guerrillas, have found out you won't stand for any fighting on the part of your men. Don Carlos is a sneak, a coward, yet he's not afraid to hide in your own house. He has learned you won't let your cowboys hurt anybody. He's taking advantage of it. He'll rob, burn, and make off with you. He'll murder, too, if it falls his way. These Greasers use knives in the dark.
Myra, of course, could not understand what was said, but she saw that some of the men laughed while others looked disappointed, and she concluded that Don Carlos was telling them that the preparations for the torture of the Englishman were all bluff. "God grant that Tony's courage does not fail him, and that he stands the test," she whispered under her breath.
As Carlos was but twelve or thirteen years of age when thus deprived of a bride whom he had never seen, the foundation for a passionate regret was but slight. It would hardly be a more absurd fantasy, had the poets chosen to represent Philip's father, the Emperor Charles, repining in his dotage for the loss of "bloody Mary," whom he had so handsomely ceded to his son.
During the whole of my voyage from San Fernando to San Carlos del Rio Negro, and thence to the town of Angostura, I noted down day by day, either in the boat or where we disembarked at night, all that appeared to me worthy of observation.