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The Excellent, which had passed us to windward, had made a line-of-battle ship, the San Domingo, strike some time before this. Several ships of the enemy were extremely shattered in their masts and sails; but, keeping up a warm fire on their ships, the Captain laid one of them, the San Nicolas, an eighty-four, on board, and hauled down her colours.
Much less turbulent was the career of Nicolas Poussin, a man as pure and elevated in his ideas of art as he was in his daily life, and distinguished alike for his vigour of intellect, his rectitude of character, and his noble simplicity. He was born in a very humble station, at Andeleys, near Rouen, where his father kept a small school.
They had nearly reached this point when out of the darkness a figure stole softly to meet them. "Nicolas!" muttered Tom, in a low voice, all but rubbing his eyes. "How on earth did you get here?" "Am I not commanded to keep with you everywhere, and serve you in all things?" demanded the servant. "Do not go around that next point in the road, caballeros.
When she heard that he intended to return in an hour, a bright idea entered her mind, which was wholly engrossed by Belotti's mission. She told Nicolas what she meant to do, and begged him to take the steward through the Spanish army to the Hague. The Junker was not only ready to fulfil her request, but promised that, if the old man wanted to return, he would apprize her of it in some way.
Monsieur Amaury took a fancy to my sister Marie because she is fair and because he is half-afraid of me; but he'd adore you, for ever since those people at the pavilion have spruced you up a bit you've got the airs of an empress." Adroitly leading the innocent heart to forget Nicolas and so put it off its guard, Catherine distilled into the girl the insidious nectar of compliments.
I could have found out what these weird engines were, no doubt, but I preferred to remember them as mysterious monsters. At a great, strange church of St. Nicolas, in the old town of St. Nicolas-du-Port, we stopped, because the Préfet's daughters had told us of a magic stone in the pavement which gives good fortune to those who set foot on it.
Why is it that Praskovya is so anxious Nicolas should be mad? The woman will have it so, she will. Ce Maurice, or what's his name, Mavriky Nikolaevitch, brave homme tout de meme... but can it be for his sake, and after she wrote herself from Paris to cette pauvre amie?... Enfin, this Praskovya, as cette chere amie calls her, is a type.
Sonia remembered being frightened once at the sight of Nicolas in his braided jacket, and her nurse promising her that she should some day have a frock trimmed from top to bottom. "And they told me you had been found in the garden under a cabbage," said Natacha. "I dared not say it was not true, but it puzzled me tremendously."
And if the art of tapestry weaving is almost a lost one to-day, at least the weavers can find in history much matter for pride. It is no mean ambition to follow the profession of conscientious Nicolas Bataille, of the able Pannemaker, of La Planche and Comans, of Tessier, Cozette, and a hundred others of family and fame. Much preparation is necessary before the loom can be set going.
For instance, the art of Nicolas Poussin, Claude, El Greco, Chardin, Ingres, and Renoir, to name a few, moves us as that of Giotto and Cézanne moves. The bulk, however, of those who flourished between the high Renaissance and the contemporary movement may be divided into two classes, virtuosi and dunces.
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