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Updated: May 6, 2025
Bossuet, Oeuvres (Versailles, 1815-1819), vi. 276 ("Catéchisme du diocèse de Meaux"). His description of the superstitions is, in his own words, as follows: "Danser
"Est-ce que ma robe va bien?" cried she, bounding forwards; "et mes souliers? et mes bas? Tenez, je crois que je vais danser!" And spreading out her dress, she chasseed across the room till, having reached Mr. Rochester, she wheeled lightly round before him on tip-toe, then dropped on one knee at his feet, exclaiming
Bobbing and circling, earnest, not very adroit, they went past and past his chair to the strains of that waltz. He watched them and the face of her who was playing turned smiling towards those little dancers thinking: 'Sweetest picture I've seen for ages. A voice said: "Hollee! Mais enfin qu'est-ce que tu fais la danser, le dimanche! Viens, donc!"
When Canaillard performs that Cavalier seul operation, does HE flinch? No: he puts on his most vainqueur look, he sticks his thumbs into the armholes of his waistcoat, and advances, retreats, pirouettes, and otherwise gambadoes, as though to say, "Regarde moi, O monde! Venez, O femmes, venez voir danser Canaillard!"
Et comme les Anglais ne scanroient Que danser les Anglaises, Bonaparte leur montrera Les figures Françaises. Allons mes amis de grand rond, En avant, face a face, Français le bas, restez d'a plomb, Anglais changez les places. Vous Monsieur Pitt vous balancez, Formez la chaine Anglaise, Pas de cotè croisez chassez C'est la danse Française!
Heed the summons, one and all, Voulez vous danser?" The seniors behind answered: "We will make the welkin ring, Voulez vous danser? Sound the trumpet, shout and sing, Voulez vous danser?" "I think this should be called the 'Senior Rumble, and not ramble," some one said, as the wagon groaned and creaked on the hilly road. "What's the matter with 'Grumble'?" asked Mabel Hinton.
Comment! je le crois, Monsieur? J'en suis sur! Il me semble, Monsieur, que nous l'avons prouve. Je m'en vais danser la Bolka. Serviteur, Monsieur. Canaillard. Butor! Mr. Brown. You polk, Miss Bustleton? I'm SO delaighted. Mr. Smith. D puppy. Though a quadrille seems to me as dreary as a funeral, yet to look at a polka, I own, is pleasant. See!
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