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All the conspirators rose above the kneeling people. Every one put his hand to his belt or in his bosom, approaching close to the soldier whom he was to poniard. "What is he doing?" asked the Carthusian. "Has he his hat upon his head?" "He throws his hat upon the ground far from him," calmly answered the arquebusier. "Mon Dieu! quest-ce que ce monde!" Dernieres paroles de M. Cinq-Mars
No man's spoiler nor heir will I be But, throned on my nag, I will smile to see The coil of the crowd that is under me. FIRST YAGER. Bravo! that's as I've always done. FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. In truth, sirs, it may be far better fun To trample thus over your neighbor's crown. FIRST CUIRASSIER. Comrade, the times are bad of late The sword and the scales live separate.
The city glances he halts not there Nor in village meadows, so green and fair; The vintage and harvest wreath are twined He sees, but must leave them far behind. Then, tell me, what hath the soldier left, If he's once of his self-esteem bereft? Something he must have his own to call, Or on slaughter and burnings at once he'll fall. FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. God knows, 'tis a wretched life to live!
His hat was pulled over his eyes; but there was no mistaking De Ganache, and I watched with breathless interest. As he came up the arquebusier began to whistle his eternal "Rappel d'Aunis" once more, and the figures near the wall closed in around the buttress. In five paces De Ganache had passed the sentry and was at the gate.
At this moment an arquebusier levelled his piece from a neighboring mound, with deadly aim; but the watchful Minerva, who had just stopped to tie up her garter, seeing the peril of her favorite hero, sent old Boreas with his bellows, who, as the match descended to the pan, gave a blast that blew the priming from the touch-hole.
With this the party withdrew, and the door was fastened upon the prisoner. An arquebusier was stationed at the foot of the steps; and the Earl of Surrey and Captain Bouchier having fully satisfied their curiosity, shaped their course towards the castle gate. On their way thither the earl looked about for Morgan Fenwolf, but could nowhere discern him.
All the conspirators rose above the kneeling people. Every one put his hand to his belt or in his bosom, approaching close to the soldier whom he was to poniard. "What is he doing?" asked the Carthusian. "Has he his hat upon his head?" "He throws his hat upon the ground far from him," calmly answered the arquebusier. "Mon Dieu! quest-ce que ce monde!" Dernieres paroles de M. Cinq-Mars
DRAGOON. From distant Erin came I here. You're a Walloon, my friend, that's clear, And you, an Italian, as all may hear. FIRST CUIRASSIER. Who I may be, faith! I never could say; In my infant years they stole me away. SERGEANT. And you, from what far land may you be? FIRST ARQUEBUSIER. I come from Buchau on the Feder Sea. SERGEANT. Neighbor, and you? SECOND ARQUEBUSIER. I am a Swiss.
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