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Updated: June 28, 2025
If I get out of Penrith with my life, I'll shave my beard and cut my hair to a comely and godly length; don a cuckoldy steeple hat and a black coat, and carry my sword to Cromwell with a line of text." Sir Crispin fell to pondering. Noting this, and imagining that he guessed aright the reason: "I take it, Cris," he put in, keenly glancing at the other, "that you are much of my mind?"
And the black-haired Cris Delighan enjoyed that flirtation more than previous ones, and the other drummer-boys raged furiously together, and Jakin preached sermons on the dangers of "bein' tangled along o' petticoats."
But so much cannot always be said for the mode of argumentation they adopt, which too often justifies M. Renan's description, when he says, "Raisonnements triomphants sur des choses que l'adversaire n'a pas dites, cris de victoire sur des erreurs qu'il n'a pas commises, rien ne parait deloyal a celui qui croft tenir en main les interets de la verite absolue." August, 1866.
Would the Band go to the Front? How many of the Drums would accompany the Regiment? They took counsel together, sitting in a tree and smoking. "It's more than a bloomin' toss-up they'll leave us be'ind at the Depot with the women. You'll like that," said Jakin sarcastically. "Cause o' Cris, y' mean? Wot's a woman, or a 'ole bloomin' depot o' women, 'longside o' the chanst of field-service?
"Hide me somewhere, Cris," he panted his accent proclaiming his Irish origin. "My God, hide me, or I'm a dead man this night!" "'Slife, Hogan! What is toward? Has Cromwell overtaken us?" "Cromwell, quotha? Would to Heaven 'twere no worse! I've killed a man!" "If he's dead, why run?" The Irishman made an impatient gesture. "A party of Montgomery's foot is on my heels.
As we know from Gandish's work, that better times were in store for the wandering monarch, and that the officers came acquainting him that his people demanded his presence a grands cris, when of course King Alfred laid down the toast and resumed the sceptre; so in the case of Florac, two humble gentlemen, inhabitants of Lamb Court, and members of the Upper temple, had the good luck to be the heralds as it were, nay indeed, the occasion, of the rising fortunes of the Prince de Moncontour.
"Sur sa figure, dont l'eclat se repandait vers les dix regions du monde, se montrait un sourire qui penetra dans tous les coeurs. "Le roi et sa suite porterent le 'Khoubilkhan' au palais, en poussant des cris de joie et entonnant des hymnes. Le roi se rendit devant le Bouddha eternel et lui demanda la permission d'adopter pour fils, le 'Khoubilkhan' ne dans la mer de lotus.
He is the very quintessence of a declaimer, but a declaimer of a most masculine sort. Boileau characterises him in two epigrammatic lines: "Juvenal eleve dans les cris de l'ecole Poussa jusqu'a l'exces son mordant hyperbole." Poet in the highest sense of the word he certainly is not. The love of beauty, which is the touchstone of the poetic soul, is absent from his works.
"O' course I am, but th' other's more comfortable. Wait till you've growed a bit, Piggy. You aren't no taller than me now." "I've bin in the army for two years an' I'm not goin' to get out of a chanst o' seein' service an' don't you try to make me do so. I'll come back, Cris, an' when I take on as a man I'll marry you marry you when I'm a Lance." "Promise, Piggy?"
Did you ever see the first poems of Madame la Duchesse d'Ivry, Les Cris de l'Ame? She used to read them to her very intimate friends, in white, with her hair a good deal down her back. They had some success. Dubufe having painted her as a Duchess, Scheffer depicted her as a Muse.
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