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"Don't you think, Philip, that it will be a great care for me to think that the three are living under one roof? Don't you think so yourself?" Mrs. Maxa concluded. "Oh, Maxa, that is an old story. There have been boys at all times who fought together and then made peace again." "Philip, that does not console me," the sister answered. "That has never been Bruno's way at all.
How many were there?" Belasez told him. "Master Aristoteles the physician, and Father Nicholas, and Father Warner, chaplains of my Lord the Earl; and the chaplain of the Lady." She hardly knew what instinct made her unwilling to utter Father Bruno's name; and, most unintentionally, she blushed. "Oh!" said Abraham to himself, "the Lady's chaplain is the dangerous person.
The reply seemed to extinguish Bruno's interest. For a moment, as if his thoughts were far elsewhere, he played with a morsel of sewing-silk which he had picked up from the floor. "The Lord is wiser than men," he said at last, as if that were the conclusion to which his unseen thoughts had led him. "Yes; and better," answered the young Jewess. "And better," dreamily repeated the priest.
A passage is cited from Bruno's high-flown panegyric on Henry III. as "a specimen of the language he was prepared to employ towards the great when there was anything to be got from them." Either this writer is ineffably ignorant, or his impudence is astounding. In the first place, that was an age of high-flown dedications.
When a man hath taken the wrong road, and hath wandered far away from right, from truth, and God, is it ever too late, while life lasts, for him to turn and come back?" "Never," was Bruno's answer. "And is it, under any circumstances, lawful for a man to lie unto his neighbour?"
Philip Neri, the other played absently with Bruno's ears. In truth he was not reading but listening. Suddenly there was a sound. He turned his head, and saw that the door leading from the hall to the tower staircase, and thence to the kitchen regions, had been opened. "Who's there?" he said in astonishment. Mrs. Denton appeared. "You, Denton! What are you up for at this time?"
With respect, moreover, to this particular passage, it had become so customary to refer it to the sufferings of Christ, that its original application to the destruction of Jerusalem had been almost forgotten. But here, Bruno's Jewish proclivities stood him in good stead. He delighted Beatrice by fully stating the original reference of the passage.
Nature shows forth each species before it enters into life. Thus each species is the starting-point for the next." These are some of the ideas, the conception of which is supposed to shadow forth Bruno's anticipation of modern thought. Landseck, his principal German biographer, makes him the link between antiquity and the celebrated thinkers of the nineteenth century.
There seemed to be no end to this waste solitude, shut in by its lofty mountain barriers. The idle curiosity of man could scarcely penetrate there. It would be difficult to cross this melancholy desert of Saint Bruno's with a light heart. "I saw the Grand Chartreuse.
Again that look of intense pain crossed Bruno's face. "No wonder!" he said, speaking not to Belasez. "The very face the very look! No wonder! And thy mother?" "My mother is Licorice, the daughter of Kokorell of Lincoln." Bruno gave a little nod, as if he had known it before. "Hast thou any brethren or sisters?" "One brother only; his name is Delecresse."
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