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Updated: May 20, 2025
'tis fitt for groomes, not men magnanimous, to be so bashfull: speake boldly to them, that like cannon shott your breath may batter; you would hardly dare to take in townes and expugne fortresses, that cannot demolish a paltry woman. Crac. Pox of this Country, it has metamorphisd me.
I lay my life a Tinker. Crac. And in his parish of account. Cla. A Scavenger. Bel. Is it a badge of your profession To be uncivell? Suc. Uncivell! Noe; what is in other men uncivill In us is resolution; therefore yeild: I am invincible, flesh cannot stand Before me. Bel. It must be drunke then. Cla. I am not ith humour now To laugh, or else Ide not dismisse him yet. Good Mr.
How I managed it, or what possessed me, he, for his part, did not know; but with whatever pacific and amicable intentions a person accosted me crac! I turned concord to discord, good-will to enmity.
And then we'll smash 'em, crac! just as I smash this fly!" Bringing his hands together with a sounding clap he caught and crushed a fly on the wing, and he laughed loud and cheerily, believing with all his simple soul in the feasibility of a plan that seemed so simple, steadfast in his faith in the invincibility of French courage.
You wonnot murder? helpe Captain, Mr. Crackby, Tim! Enter Omnes. Omnes. How now! how now! what's the matter? Lov. Grimes. Not if you meet him in the likenes of a bottle of Sack, good Steward. Tim. Why this is excellent. Suc. Grimes, let me hugg thee, thou sonn of witt. Grimes. Nay, letts not leave him thus. Crac. Leade on, weele follow. Finis Actus Secundi. Actus Tertius.
But if you are bent on finding in the Duchesse de Rosas the good-natured girl that I have been toward you, and you are quite capable of it, for you are a sentimental fellow, then it will be useless to even appear to have ever known each other. I am turning the key on my life. Crac! Bonsoir, Sulpice!" The unhappy man!
I had 200 batteries secretes ready of which the enemy had no idea which had given beforehand no sign of their existence. Then we sat with our watches in our hands. Was it true or not true? 12.5 12.6 12.8 12.9. Probably it was a mare's nest. 12.10 Crac! the bombardment had begun. We sprang to our telephones!"
Now to begett an active Complement that, like a matins sung By virgins, may enchant her amorous ear. The Spanish Basolas manos sounds, methinks, As harsh as a Morisco kettledrum; The French boniour is ordinary as their Disease: hees not a gent that cannot parlee. I must invent some new and polite phrases. Crac. Shall I have answeare yet, sir. Sir Geff. Pish, you disturbe me.
Lady, I and my Nephew, being your good neighbors and of the worshipfull, I of the Country, he of the Cittie, have long desird a match with your daughters, but they are coy, so childish, so unmannerly; I know not how to terme them: they dispise who worship offers them, they may hereafter doe worse and have worse, madam. Crac.
There is a treasurer in the county, Captaine, pays souldiers pensions: if any be due to you Ile write my letter, you shall receive it. Bun. Faith, there he mett with you. Crac. I see a storme a coming. Uncle, I wilbe answerable upon account: my souldier must have mettall. Sir Geff.
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