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Mr. Pater can join hands with Gautier in saying je trouve la terre aussi belle que le ciel, et je pense que la correction de la forme est la vertu. And I too join issue; I too love the great pagan world, its bloodshed, its slaves, its injustice, its loathing of all that is feeble.
Before the two minutes had expired, the pinch of snuff dropped from the countess's fingers, and, clasping her hands together, she exclaimed, "Ah! ciel!"
"But although he may have refused to-day," returned the Vicomte frenziedly, "he may think better of it to-morrow-perhaps even tonight. Ciel! Think of the risk we run; already it may be too late. Oh, why," he demanded reproachfully, "why didn't you listen to me when, days ago, I counselled flight?" "Because it neither was, nor is, my intention to fly."
Of course the duke could write poetry if he pleased, something, I dare say, in the way of the great Conde; that is, something warlike and heroic, I'll be bound. Let's hear!" "Telle est du Ciel la loi severe Qu'il faut qu'un enfant ait un pere; On dit meme quelquefois Tel enfant en a jusqu'a trois." "Conde write such stuff! I don't believe it."
The short symphony which follows this little bit was not heard for the cries of applause, which were silenced only by the grand finale, 'Se il ciel mi guida. "Gran Dio! the bare memory of that night is a joy," said my friend, walking rapidly up and down the room. "I had to leave for my Russian home a few days after that, and saw Adelaide only once; it was the morning of my departure.
"An old one!" shrieked Mam'selle Lolotte. "Ah, mon Dieu! Is a man old at forty-seven? Monsieur Durand is in the prime of life, and there isn't a girl in the Quartier who would not be proud of his attentions!" "He's sixty, if an hour," said the injured Adèle. "And as for you, Caroline, who have never had a beau in your life...." "Ciel! what a calumny!
This masquerade, in so far as it lay in the province of the painter, was so beautifully arranged and adorned by Granacci that no man could imagine anything better; and the words of the song, which Jacopo composed, began thus: Contempla in quanta gloria sei salita, Felice alma Fiorenza, Poichè dal Ciel discesa, with what follows.
Goder pareva 'l ciel di lor fiammelle. O settentrional vedovo sito, Poi che privato sei di mirar quelle!" The sweetest oriental sapphire blue, Which the whole air in its pure bosom had, Greeted mine eyes, far as the heavens withdrew; So that again they felt assured and glad, Soon as they issued forth from the dead air, Where every sight and thought had made them sad.
And where are those accommodements avec le ciel of which we've heard? We're not even permitted a few poor accommodements avec le monde." "Look at my uncle's face," whispered the Duchessa to Peter. The Cardinal's fine old face was all alight with amusement. "In his fondness for taking things by their humorous end, he has met an affinity."
It merited no better lot. And he recalled how, when the ridiculous story that the Jews make use of Christian blood cropped up again at Rhodes and Lemnos, he had written in his diary that the universal accusation was a proof that the time was nigh when the Jews in very sooth would help themselves with Christian blood. Aide-toi, le ciel t'aidera.
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