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Silence at a Bacchanalian song. 'I have a reasonable good ear in music, says the unfortunate Pyramus, struggling a little with that cerebral development and uncompromising facial angle which he finds imposed on him. 'I have a reasonable good ear in music: let us have the tongs and the bones.
As she was passing the Town Hall Pyramus Kogel left it, and she stopped as he modestly greeted her. Very distinguished and manly he looked in his glittering armour, with the red and yellow sash and the rapier with its large, flashing basket-hilt at his side; yet she said to herself: "Poor, handsome fellow! How many would be proud to lean on your arm!
Thus the poets who understand life, after having known much of love, more or less transitory, after having felt that sublime exaltation which passion can for the moment inspire, deducting from human nature all elements which degrade it, created the mysterious names which through the ages are passed from lip to lip: Daphne and Chloe, Hero and Leander, Pyramus and Thisbe.
With nothing before us but her own poems and the scant recognition of Denys Pyramus, she seems like some old portrait in which the delicate pigments that once glowed in the face and made it live have, owing to their very delicacy, long since faded away, leaving behind only the stronger and less volatile colours of the dark background from which we in vain try to wrest more than one or two fragments of the secret it holds.
I do not remember who wrote them, but it may have been Rousard: "When you and I in bed shall lie, Lascivious we shall be, Enlaced, playing a thousand tricks, Of lovers, gamesomely. "I should like to have that verse embroidered on the top of my bed, where Pyramus and Thisbe are continually looking at me out of their tapestry eyes.
"This Count of Monte Cristo is a strange man," said Emmanuel. "Yes," answered Maximilian, "but I feel sure he has an excellent heart, and that he likes us." "His voice went to my heart," observed Julie; "and two or three times I fancied that I had heard it before." Pyramus and Thisbe.
Nor would he give her up as lost, and his travelling companion. Pyramus, who was like a son to him, was ready to aid him, for his love was so true and steadfast that he still wished to make her his wife, and offered through him to share everything with her, even his honourable name.
Yet perhaps his glances strayed almost as frequently to one other maiden. The velvet gown should now decide whether he gave the preference to her or to pretty Elspet Zohrer of course, only in the dance for she would never have accepted him as a serious suitor. Besides, the young noble, Pyramus Kogel, himself probably thought of no such folly. It was very different with Wolf Hartschwert.
What had befallen him, and what had the recruiting officer to tell of his fate? She was to know soon enough, for she had scarcely risen from breakfast when a ducal servant announced Sir Pyramus.
Her father might perhaps have noticed them, for one groom carried a torch, and the one-eyed maid's lantern was shining directly into her face. But while she was struggling not to weep aloud, emotion and anxiety for the old man who, through her fault, would be exposed to so much danger, extorted the cry: "Take care of him, Herr Pyramus! I will be grateful to you."
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