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Updated: May 5, 2025
The stage is the arena, where in gladiatorial combat I wage my battle with the beasts of Poverty and Want: there I receive the swelling acclamations of triumph, or the pelting hisses of defeat; there before the footlights where I toil for my bread, I am a legitimate defenceless target for artistic criticism; but outside the precincts of the theatre, I hold myself as sacred from the world as if I stood in stone upon an altar behind some convent's bars, and as a lonely, sorrow-stricken mother widowed of the father of my child, bereft of a husband's tenderly jealous guardianship, I have a right to claim the profound respect, the chivalric courtesy, which every high-toned, honourable gentleman accords to worthy stainless women.
May the saints keep her! she has the good heart of one the Virgin loves," said Marie, and many a candle did she buy and keep burning on the convent's shrines for Hetty's protection and conversion. One night Marie overheard Father Antoine say to Hetty, as he bade her good-night at the garden gate: "My daughter, you look better and younger every day."
Soon he now, the tempest braving, Builds an humble shed, Where o'er the lime-trees darkly waving, Peeps the convent's head. From the orb of day's first gleaming, Till his race has run, Hope in every feature beaming, There he sits alone.
The mules were again urged to increase their pace, and images of the refreshment and repose that were expected from the convent's hospitality, became general and grateful among the travellers. The day was fast disappearing from the glens and ravines through which they rode, and all discourse ceased in the desire to get on.
He had wrestled with the devil for his son's soul, and knew that he had prevailed. Another year wrote its record on forest and field. The weeks passed; summer sped to autumn, the ripe corn bowed to the sickle. The Convent's lands were rich and heavy, virgin soil reclaimed; and the Prior, watching the last great wain piled high with wealth of golden treasure, saw the porter coming to him.
Within the convent there was none bold enough, considering Anne's royal rank, to offer remonstrance or advice, particularly too, considering that her behaviour had the sanction of Frey Miguel, the convent's spiritual adviser. But from without, from the Provincial of the Order of St.
As to the Flemish heiress, no representation would induce Lilias to love her. Reject Malcolm for a convent's sake!
There were many guests for the Convent's hospitality that night, and as Hilarius entered the hall of the guest-house a brother had charged himself with the care of the Friar he heard the sound of the vielle, and a rich voice which sang in good round English against the fashion of the day. "Martin, Martin!" he cried. The vielle was instantly silent.
DIEGO. Soon as I trod the convent's court impatient I ask "Where is thy daughter?" Terror sate In every eye; and straight, with horror mute, I heard the worst. DON CAESAR. Say'st thou by pirates stolen? Who saw the band? what tongue relates the spoil? DIEGO. Not far a Moorish galley was descried, At anchor in the bay DON CAESAR. The refuge oft From tempests' rage; where is the bark?
"Since Brother Thomas died," said Brother Paul again a little impatiently, though he crossed himself piously enough "methinks the provisions have oft been scanty and far from tempting, Brother." "Ay, and the wine," said Brother Anselm. "Methinks our Cellarer draws the half of it from the Convent's well." They shook their heads sadly.
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