United States or Tajikistan ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Imagine now the severest cramp you ever felt artificially prolonged for hours and hours. Imagine yourself cramped in a vise, no part of you movable a hair's breadth, except your hair and your eyelids. Imagine the fierce cramp growing and growing, and rising like a tide of agony higher and higher above nature's endurance, and you will cease to wonder that a man always sunk under Hawes's man-press.
Here is an attested copy of the journal in question; and here is Mr. Hawes's log-book. Fry's book intended for no mortal eye but his own; Hawes's concocted for inspection." "I see a number of projecting marks pasted into Fry's journal!"
One was that he would spend a thousand pounds in setting such prisoners as survived Hawes's discipline to indict him, and the other that he would appeal to the public press.
But the language of poetry tends to keep up archaisms of this kind, and in Stephen Hawes, who wrote a century after Chaucer, we still find such lines as these: But he my strokës might right well endure, He was so great and huge of puissánce. Hawes's practice is variable in this respect, and so is his contemporary, Skelton's.
'Our scheme will probably result in Ben Hawes's resignation, Miss Nightingale said; 'and that is another of its advantages. Ben Hawes himself, however, did not quite see it in that light. He set himself to resist the wishes of the Minister by every means in his power.
He brought the dark tale down to where he left the sufferer rolled up in the one comfort left him on earth, his bed; and then turning suddenly and leaving Josephs he said sternly: "And now, sir, ask the governor where is the bed I wrapped the wet boy up in, for it isn't here." "You know as much as I do!" was Hawes's sulky reply.
In another illustrative poem, this time introduced to show the proper use of the six parts of an oration, John inserts between the "confirmacio," and the "confutacio," an "expositio mistica" in which the Trojan War is allegorized in this fashion: "The fury of Eacides is the ire of Satan," etc. As late as 1506 Stephen Hawes's Pastime of Pleasure is as mediaeval as the Romance of the Rose.
This collar, by a refinement of cruelty, was made with unbound edges, so that when the victim, exhausted with the cruel cramp that racked his aching bones in the fierce gripe of Hawes's infernal machine, sunk his heavy head and drooped his chin, the jagged collar sawed him directly and lacerating the flesh drove him away from even this miserable approach to ease.
It was not in his nature to be cruel to a prisoner, and his humanity was, like himself, negative not positive, passive not active of course; it was commonplace humanity. After looking on in silence for a twelvemonth or two he remonstrated against Hawes's barbarity. He would have done more; he would have stopped it if it could have been stopped without any trouble.
Royall's black leather Bible, steadying it in front with a white stone on which a view of the Brooklyn Bridge was painted; and she sat before her reflection, bending the brim this way and that, while Ally Hawes's pale face looked over her shoulder like the ghost of wasted opportunities. "I look awful, don't I?" she said at last with a happy sigh. Ally smiled and took back the hat.
Word Of The Day