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Guil. A small rasher of delicate Bacon, Sirrah of about a Pound, or two, with a small Morsel of Bread round the Loaf, d'ye hear, quickly, Slaves. Ant. That's gross meat, Sir, a pair of Quails or Guil. I thank you for that, i'faith, take your Don again, an you please, I'll not be starv'd for ne'er a Don in Christendom. Ant. But you must study to refine your Manners a little. Guil.
Twelve years later, during the wars of the League, Lesdiguières distinguished himself in the same neighbourhood, capturing Embrun, Guillestre, and Château Queyras, in the valley of the Guil, thereby securing the entire province for his royal master, Henry of Navarre. The strong fortress of Mont Dauphin, at the junction of the Guil with the Durance, was not constructed until a century later.
Then know our Design is only comical, though if you manage not Matters well, it may prove tragical to you; in fine, dost think thou canst personate a Lord? Guil. A Lord! marry, that's a hard question: but what sort of a Lord? Car. Why, any Lord. Guil.
Why, 'tis the great Turk, a Queen of Turkey. Isa. Guil. May I believe thee, but when thou seest the difference, alas, I am but a Chimney hum, nothing to a great Turk. Isa. Is he so rare a thing? Guz. Jul. Alas, what shall we poor Women do? Men. Isa. We must e'en have patience, Madam, and be ravisht. Cla. Ravisht! Heavens forbid. Jac.
Devil; 'twas not long since you found me a human creature within there. Isa. Villain, Dog; help me to tear his Eyes out. Guil. What, those Eyes, those lovely Eyes, that wounded you so deeply? Fran. What's the meaning of all this? why, what, am I cozen'd? and is my Daughter cozen'd? Guil. Cozen'd! why, I am a Man, Sir. Fran. The Devil you are, Sir, how shall I know that? Guil.
Hold, hold, my Lord, I am none of the sixscore. Guil. And run 'em all through the Body! Fran. Oh Heavens! and kill'd 'em all. Guil. Isa. Guil. Fran. Guil. Isa. Ah. Shew a Wound behind, Sir! the Ladies will think you are a Coward. Guil.
About three leagues higher up, after crossing the Guil from bank to bank several times, in order to make use of such ledges of the rock as are suitable for the road, the gorge opens into the Combe du Queyras, and very shortly the picturesque-looking Castle of Queyras comes in sight, occupying the summit of a lofty conical rock in the middle of the valley.
Car. What aukard, fond, conceited thing art thou? Veil her, and take the taudry Creature hence. Guil. Fran. How! refuse my Daughter too! I see the Lot of a Cuckold will fall to my share. Guz. Car. Hah! what do I see, by Mahomet, she's fair. Fran. So, so, she's condemn'd; oh, damn'd Mahometan Cannibal! will nothing but raw flesh serve his turn. Car. I'll see no more, here I have fix'd my heart.
At your own Peril be it then, Signior, for the Turks are coming upon us. Fran. Oh Lord, Turks, Turks! Cap. Guil. Fran. All why, they'll make Eunuchs of us, my Lord, Eunuchs of us poor men, and lie with all our Wives. Guil. Shaw, that's nothing, 'tis good for the Voice. how sweetly we shall sing, ta, la, ta la la, ta la, &c. Fran. Ay, 'twill make you sing another note, I'll warrant you.
The route from Guillestre into Italy lies up the valley of the Guil, through one of the wildest and deepest gorges, or rather chasms, to be found in Europe. Brockedon says it is "one of the finest in the Alps." M. Bost compares it to the Moutier-Grand-Val, in the canton of Berne, but says it is much wilder.
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