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Dole and dolent are doubtless the exact counterparts of dolore and dolente, so far as mere etymology can go. But when we consider the effect that is to be produced upon the mind of the reader, wretchedness and despairing are fat better equivalents. The former may compel our intellectual assent, but the latter awaken our emotional sympathy.
And Pierre realised what such a man the Sovereign Pontiff, the king obeyed by two hundred and fifty millions of subjects must be for the devout and dolent creatures who came to adore him from so far, and who fell at his feet awestruck by the splendour of the powers incarnate in him.
When all had been rehearsed and shown to him, and he had well considered the matter, the knight was very dolent; yet in no wise would he avenge himself wrongfully. So he caused a certain coffret to be fashioned, made not of iron or steel, but of fine gold and fair stones, most rich and precious, right strongly clasped and bound.
She regarded him with her smoky eyes, in which he now saw that dolent, almost dolorous expression which had captivated him. He completely lost control of himself before this voluptuous and plaintive face, but with a firm gesture she freed her hands. "Enough. Sit down, now, and let's talk of something else. Do you know your apartment is charming?
The lamplight now shone full upon it; and this time again as he gazed at it he felt a blow in the heart, a blow which was all the deeper, as now, at his parting hour, he found a symbol of his defeat at Rome in that dolent, tragic, half-naked woman, draped in a shred of linen, and weeping between her clasped hands whilst seated on the threshold of the palace whence she had been driven.
But Chayne had no doubt that she was referring to that decision which she had taken on the summit of the peak. She stood up to go. "You stay here to-night?" she said. "Yes." "You cross the Col Dolent to-morrow?" "Yes." She looked at him quickly and then away. "You will be careful? In the shadow there?" "Yes."
For he saw Chayne and his guides following across the glacier behind, and Chayne's road to the Col Dolent at the head of the glacier lay straight ahead upon their former line of advance. However he said nothing.
"And the bergschrund's just beneath." "Yes, you must not slip on the Col Dolent," said he, quietly. Sylvia was silent a little while. Then she said with a slight hesitation: "And you cross that pass to-day?" There was still more hesitation in Chayne's voice as he answered: "Well, no! You see, this is your first mountain. And you have only two guides." Sylvia looked at him seriously.
The lamplight now shone full upon it; and this time again as he gazed at it he felt a blow in the heart, a blow which was all the deeper, as now, at his parting hour, he found a symbol of his defeat at Rome in that dolent, tragic, half-naked woman, draped in a shred of linen, and weeping between her clasped hands whilst seated on the threshold of the palace whence she had been driven.
Kenyon put a whisky and soda by Chayne's elbow, and setting the tobacco jar on a little table between them, sat down and lighted his pipe. "You came back at once?" he asked. "I crossed the Col Dolent and went down into Italy," replied Chayne. "Yes, yes," said Kenyon, nodding his head. "But you will go back next year, or the year after."
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