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Void vostre galand! a moi pour recompence Vous pouvez faire une humble et douce reverence! Adieu, l'evenement trompe un peu mes souhaits; Mais tous les amoureux ne sont pas satisfaits." GRAND DUKE OF NOUMARIA, formerly LOUIS DE SOYECOURT, tormented beyond measure with the impertinences of life. COMTE DE CHATEAUROUX, cousin to the Grand Duchess, and complies with circumstance.
He grew up to be a fine bairn, with a warm heart, but a light head, and, wanting the rein of a father's power upon him, was no sa douce as I could have wished; but he was no man's foe save his own.
"Be douce in deportment," said his father, speaking quietly and yet with a certain sternness of demeanour. "Think three times before you give an order, but let no man think even once before obeying it. Set him astraddle the wooden horse with a spear shaft at either foot to teach him that a soldier's first duty is not to think.
In the third act we are introduced to Puck-hairy, who laments his lot as the familiar of the malignant witch in whose service he has now to 'firk it like a goblin' about the woods. Meanwhile Karol meets Douce in the dress of Earine, who, however, runs off on the approach of Aeglamour. The latter fancies she is the ghost of his drowned love, and falls into a 'superstitious commendation' of her.
This is but a lodging, and sic a braw chamber as ye hae scarce seen before. Would you have your uncle lodge ye among all his priests and clerks? Scarce the place for douce maidens, I trow. 'Leddy of Glenuskie, ye're not sae sib to the bluid royal of Scotland as to speak thus! Lassie indeed! Again Eleanor remonstrated. 'Jeanie, to speak thus to our gude kinswoman!
Monsieur Love, who was thundering down behind her, cried, "Bravo!" and as the well-grown gentleman had to make a sweep to avoid disturbing her equilibrium, he came full against the whiskered stranger, and sent him off as a bat sends a ball. "Mon Dieu!" cried Monsieur Goupille. "Ma douce amie she has fainted away!"
Was he not even then breathing his Spirit into the soul of that woman-child? It blew upon Andrew Constable, as he stood in his shop-door, the easy labour of his day all but over. And he said to his little weasel-faced, douce, old-fashioned child who stood leaning against the other door-cheek: "That's a fine caller bit blastie, Isie! Dinna ye like to fin' 't blawin' upo' yer het cheeks, dawtie?"
Her wavyavyeavyheavyeavyevyevyhair un comb:'d. Yet too much happy bores. He stretched more, more. Are you not happy in your? Twang. It snapped. Jingle into Dorset street. Miss Douce withdrew her satiny arm, reproachful, pleased. Don't make half so free, said she, till we are better acquainted. George Lidwell told her really and truly: but she did not believe.
"Away with her, away!" cried several voices at that humane suggestion. "Nay, nay," quoth the baker, "she is a douce creature after all, and hath dealt with me many years. I don't care what becomes of the wizard, every one knows," he added with pride, "that I was one of the first to set fire to his house when Robin gainsayed it! but right's right burn the master, not the drudge!"
Miss bronze unbloused her neck. No, said miss Kennedy. It gets brown after. Did you try the borax with the cherry laurel water? Miss Douce halfstood to see her skin askance in the barmirror gildedlettered where hock and claret glasses shimmered and in their midst a shell. And leave it to my hands, she said. Try it with the glycerine, miss Kennedy advised.
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