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As his rough "Larum gardum quantitere runze punze ke hi voi la" now reached the little ones, the impression was far deeper than he had intended, for the cellar man's youngest son, a little fellow six years old, first shrieked aloud, and, when the terrible old man's long arms barred his way, he began to cry piteously.
They groaned and cried out, 'Misericordia! and many monks were made upon the spot. At last, on April 7, Fra Roberto took his leave of the Perugians, crying as he went, 'La pace sia con voi! We have a glimpse of the same Fra Roberto da Lecce at Rome, in the year 1482. The feuds of the noble families della Croce and della Valle were then raging in the streets of Rome.
There is enough servility in the language, it is the fashion of the Italian tongue, with its Tu for inferiors, Voi for intimates and friendly equals, and Lei for superiors, but in the manner there is none, and there is a sense of equality in the ordinary intercourse of the Venetians, at once apparent to foreigners.
"È possibile che voi, che per essere divino non degnate il consortio degli huomini, haviate ciò fatto nel maggior tempio di Dio?.... In un bagno delitioso, non in un choro supremo si conveniva il far vostro."
Nothing can be prettier, however, than the slow and tranquil manners of a Florentine; nothing more polished than his general address and behaviour: ever in the third person, though to a blackguard in the street, if he has not the honour of his particular acquaintance, while intimacy produces voi in those of the highest rank, who call one another Carlo and Angelo very sweetly; the ladies taking up the same notion, and saying Louisa, or Maddalena, without any addition at all.
She listlessly extended her arm and filled it to the brim with Cyprian and a sweetened Oriental wine which I afterward found so bitter on the deserted Lido. "Here," she said, presenting it to me, "per voi, bambino mio." "For you and for me," I said, presenting her my glass in turn. She moistened her lips while I emptied my glass, unable to conceal the sadness she seemed to read in my eyes.
On the way back we passed a Battalion of Alpini marching up, many of them very young. I thought of the Duke of Aosta's latest message to the undefeated Third Army: "A voi veterani del Carso, ed a voi, giovani soldati, fioritura della perenne primavera italica." Splendid Alpini! They are never false to their regimental motto, "di quì non si passa!" They never fail.
Morti siam come vedete, Così morti vedrem voi; Fummo gi
For this is what the young doctor was singing: "Voi che sapete che cosa e l'amor, Donne, vedete s'io l'ho nel cuor!" The sisters listened; Miss Phoebe erect among her pillows, her nightcap tied in a rigid little bow under her chin; Miss Vesta sitting beside her, wistful and anxious, full of tender solicitude for sister, friend, niece, in fact, for all her little world.
I maliciously assented, but said it was strange how strongly that air always reminded me of "Voi che sapete." Divorce There was a man in the hotel at Harwich with an ugly disagreeable woman who I supposed was his wife. I did not care about him, but he began to make up to me in the smoking-room.
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