Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 20, 2025
In the excitement, Albinia utterly forgot all scruples about 'Bluebeard's closet. She hurried into the house, and made but one dash, standing before her astonished husband's dreamy eyes, exclaiming, 'Pray give me the key of the cellaret; there's a poor man just come home, fainting with exhaustion, Mr. Dusautoy wants some brandy for him. Like a man but half awake, obeying an apparition, Mr.
The doors banged to and fro, the bells began to ring, the maids went up and down stairs skurrying and screaming, and gave warning in a body. John Thomas, as pale as death, declared that he found Bluebeard's yeomanry sword, that hung in the hall, drawn, and on the ground; and the sticking-plaster miniature in Mr. Bluebeard's bedroom was found turned topsy-turvy!
As the clock struck twelve, she sprang up in desperation, drew a shawl round her, and, in her night-dress, sat down by the window, to contemplate the heavenly bodies. Hark! what noise was that? The house was as still as a vault; all had retired, and were probably asleep. In the dead stillness, Rose heard a door open the green baize door of Bluebeard's room.
There was scarcely a sign of life about the place otherwise. The whole valley was enjoying that perfect, almost holy, calm, to be found pretty well all the world over, yielded by man to the hours of worship. Inside the house there was greater activity. Kate Seton was in her homely parlor. She was at her desk. That Bluebeard's chamber, which roused so much curiosity in her sister, was open.
Women are fond of using Bluebeard's bloody key, that fine mythological idea for which we are indebted to Perrault. The dramatist who knew his Shakespeare displayed his wretchedness, related his struggle with men and things, made his hearer aware of his baseless grandeur, his unrecognized political genius, his life without noble affections.
For the first few days after our arrival, my time was agreeably spent in receiving the visits of the nobility and gentry who came to pay their respects to the noble new-married couple, and, like Bluebeard's wife in the fairy tale, in inspecting the treasures, the furniture, and the numerous chambers of the castle.
However, the hounds were unkenneled at break of day, and, the tent being pitched at the bottom of the basin, we commenced a pull up the steep patinas, hoping to find somewhere on the edge of the jungles. "There's scent to a certainty! look at old Bluebeard's nose upon the ground and the excited wagging of his stern.
And when we came to a door that was locked Aha! Here was a puzzle and a problem! We tried every key in the house, right side up and upside down. Bluebeard's wife, poor creature, if I read the tale aright, was merely seeking her Christmas presents around the house before the proper day.
Her spirits had gone up, and she was laughing to herself a little it felt like exploring Bluebeard's castle. She investigated the book case, shaking out every book. She ran up to the toy balcony and even pushed out the couch there, noticing for the first time that the balcony had curtains which could be drawn. But there was nothing behind couch or curtains.
She put up a most splendid monument to her departed lord over the family vault of the Bluebeards. The rector, Dr. Sly, who had been Mr. Bluebeard's tutor at college, wrote an epitaph in the most pompous yet pathetic Latin: "Siste, viator! moerens conjux, heu! quanto minus est cum reliquis versari quam tui meminisse"; in a word, everything that is usually said in epitaphs.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking