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Updated: May 17, 2025
Their murmurs rose to violent protest on behalf of the poilu. "C'est un heros, tout de meme. Cinq mois dans les tranches! C'est affreux! Mais oui, il est soul, mais pour quoi pas! Apres cinq mois sur le front qu'est-ce que cela signifie? Ca n'a aucune importance!" A dandy French officer of Chasseurs Alpins stepped into the center of the scene and tapped the policeman on the shoulder.
It was dated the 13th of April strange thing, my good God, incredibly strange that same day, twenty long years ago, when I reached the Pole; and the writing on that page was quite different from the neat look of the rest, proving immoderate excitement, wildest haste; and he heads it 'Cinq Heures, I suppose in the evening, for he does not say: and he writes: 'Monstrous event! phenomenon without likeness! the witnesses of which must for ever live immortalised in the annals of the universe, an event which will make even Mama, Henri and Juliette admit that I was justified in undertaking this most eventful voyage.
I wouldn’t have it otherwise—though I have to pay for it. That woman’s tears went through me. Every little while she was counting in French, “Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq,”—then she would weep again and then she would count. I said to the nurse, “Nurse, what’s the trouble?” and she said, “Sir, her mind has given way.
Louis the King saw his most intimate friend, Cinq Mars, sent to the scaffold; his brother Gaston, Duke of Orleans, thrown into the Bastille like a common prisoner; his mother in exile and poverty. But he also saw himself without the trouble of governing, surrounded by homage and adulation, towering high above everything else in France, and was content.
You are are about to banish, perhaps slay, a man, and to bring then, a foreign army into France; I am, then, to see you an assassin and a traitor to your country! By what tortuous paths have you arrived thus far? By what stages have you descended so low?" "Any other than yourself would not speak thus to me twice," said Cinq- Mars, coldly; "but I know you, and I like this explanation.
This afternoon Langeais and Azay-le-Rideau are beckoning us, although we were tempted to stop for a nearer view of the strange Pile de Cinq Mars, which is, we are told, an unsolved architectural puzzle.
"Cinq- deux!" an oath, a laugh, the click of glasses and bottles came out more clearly; but the rest of the time these sounds were more like a droning accompaniment to the scraping of Heriot's pen upon the paper when he finally began to write his letter. Two minutes went by and then two more.
I only caught "cinq francs," but his face looked interested at once, and he and Jean disappeared behind the curtain and the head disappeared too, so we went outside, and bought "farings" at the next booth. There they joined us. "Alors, mes amis?" demanded every one. "Pas la peine, très mal faite," said "Antoine"; so I suppose it was the machinery they had been examining.
Modern morals censure not people so much for their vices as for the display of them, as Aleibiades was blamed not for loving Nemea, but for allowing himself to be painted reposing on her lap. Finished the perusal of Cinq Mars, by Count Alfred de Vigny. It is an admirable production, and deeply interested me.
They ran up the white banner of the Bourbons upon the spire of St. Laurient, and began shouting vociferously, "Vive Henri Cinq!" hoping to excite a general insurrection, and that the whole populace of the city would join them. They did create intense agitation, and wonder, and bewilderment. Men, women, and children ran to and fro, and the alarm-bells were violently rung from the steeples.
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