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Hint, then, somewhere to that effect? Also remember a little that there was an Europe as well as an England? In sum, Euge." Such praise from such a man was balm to Froude's wounds and tonic to his nerves.
Half compelled by the omen, half by a sudden burst of unoccasioned fear, her eyes shone with tears; but her husband’s laugh rang clearly. “Euge! dry your eyes, and look before you. King Æolus scatters the cloud upon his briskest winds. It breaks into a thousand bits. So shall Themistocles scatter the hordes of Xerxes.
“Because too many deserters and talebearers are flying to Xerxes now to require that I thrust my head in the Hydra’s jaws. You know surely that.” Themistocles raised his eyebrows. “There’s truth said there, Simonides. What do you think?” The last question was to the poet. “That this Glaucon, whatever his guilt a year ago, comes to-night in good faith.” “Euge! that’s easily said.
O, that's all right. Shake a shake. O, that's all only all right. You were going to do wonders, what? Missionary to Europe after fiery Columbanus. Fiacre and Scotus on their creepystools in heaven spilt from their pintpots, loudlatinlaughing: Euge! Euge! Pretending to speak broken English as you dragged your valise, porter threepence, across the slimy pier at Newhaven. Comment?
One long minute, just as Simonides and his companions approached, Athenian and Spartan stood face to face, hand locked in hand, while Glaucon’s forehead grew redder, not with blushing. Then blood rushed to the king’s brow also. His fingers were crimson. They had been forced open. “Euge!” cried the king, again; then, to Themistocles, “He will do.”
Upon this a cry arose of 'Turn him out! But Coleridge interfered to protect him; he insisted on the man's right to hiss if he thought fit; it was legal to hiss; it was natural to hiss; 'for what is to be expected, gentlemen, when the cool waters of reason come in contact with red-hot aristocracy, but a hiss? Euge!
Last of the wretches brought before Demetrius came Phaon. The freedman had been roughly handled; across his brow a great welt had risen where a pirate had struck him with a rope's end. His arms were pinioned behind his back. He was perfectly pale, and his eyes wandered from one person to another as if vainly seeking some intercessor. "Euge!
“Give me a part to play to-morrow.” “Thermopylæ was not brisk enough fighting, ha? Can you still fling a javelin?” “I can try.” “Euge! Try you shall.” He let his voice drop. “Do not forget your name henceforth is Critias. The Nausicaä’s crew are mostly from Sunium and the Mesogia. They’d hardly recognize you under that beard; still Sicinnus must alter you.” “Command me, kyrie,” said the Asiatic.
Soon after the "Queen of the Air" was published Carlyle wrote: "Last week I got y'r 'Queen of the Air, and read it. Euge, Ettge.
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