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"Yes; but in the mean while you may get killed; and then of what service will your claim to a pension be?" "N'ayez pas peur, Madame Je me menagerai bien on ne se bat pas pour ces gueux la comme pour son Roi."* * "No fear of that, Madam I'll take good care of myself: a man does not fight for such beggarly rascals as these as he would for his King."
Rarely if ever is a case brought into court by the watchful police. The young cleric gazed at us inquiringly, as if he expected to hear us exclaim about the cruelty to animals, but catching his eye I smiled, and said something about "ces bons chiens," at which he seemed relieved, and nodded back grinning, but he did not remove the stogie from his mouth.
A little villa in the north of Spain to pass the summer in, a mansion in Madrid, and some possessions in Andalusia for the winter.... We will live remembering our dear Philippines.... Of me Voltaire will not say: 'Nous n'avons jamais été chez ces peuples que pour nous y enrichir et pour les calomnier."
She came back after a few minutes and wrote the following six lines: 'Sans rien oter au plaisir amoureux, L'objet de ton larcin sert a combier nos voeux. A l'abri du danger, mon ame satisfaite Savoure en surete parfaite; Et si tu veux jauer avec securite, Rends-moi mon doux ami, ces dons de l'amitie.
The verses of Quinault have no other naivete and simplicity than those of the madrigal; and though they occasionally fall into the luscious, at other times they express a languishing tenderness with gracefulness and a soft melody. The opera ought to resemble the enchanted gardens of Armida, of which Quinault says, Dans ces lieux enchantes la volupte preside.
Or one might put it rhetorically, fiercely, stoically, finely, republicanly into the Heroics of the Great School. Thus HERNANI (with indignation)... dans ces efforts sublimes'Qu'avez vous
Only a few days ago Brian learned by heart a poem I read aloud, a poem called "Les Arbres Coupés," by Edmond Rostand. Teaching Brian, I found I had learned it myself. Chacun de nos soldats eut son cri de souffrance Devant ces arbres morts qui jonchaient les terrains: "Les pêchers!" criaient ceux de l'Île-de-France; "Et les mirabelliers!" crièrent les Lorrains.
"I know not why it is, but of all these great, ces fameux, Madame de Sevigne seems to me the nearest, in point of time. Her visit appears to have happened only yesterday. I never enter her room but I seem to see her moving about, talking, laughing, speaking in epigrams. She mentions the inn, you know, in her letters. She gives the details of her journey in full."
Sometimes he went away with no more than a nod and a smile to them, but more and more, when he had finished, he came out where they were, and stood or sat to exchange brief impressions on the enchanting season, or on some social or aesthetic treat which "ces dames" had been enjoying. "No one could appreciate more than Miss Marshall what has always been such a delight to us all."
If the works of Gluck in general and Orphée in particular have had a happy influence on our musical taste, a passage from this last work has been a noxious influence, the famous chorus of the demons "Quel est l'audacieux qui dans ces sombres lieux ose porter ses pas?" In the old days French opera was based on declamation and it was scrupulously respected even in the arias.
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