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Updated: June 15, 2025
"Your memory is very good, M. Max!" "Then Mr. Exel is a personal friend of Sir Brian Malpas? "Excellent! Kismet aids me still! I come to you hoping that you may be acquainted with the constitution of Mrs. Leroux, but no! behold me disappointed in this. Then morbleu! among your patients I find a possible client of the opium syndicate!" "What! Malpas? Good God! I had not thought of that!
"No, I have one suit left, the handsomest even, but I expect a purchaser." "And the chausses?" "Well, if you look, you will see them on that chair." "Very well! since you have some chausses and a pourpoint left, put your legs into the first and your back into the other; have a horse saddled, and set off." "Not I." "And why not?" "Morbleu! don't you know, then, that M. de Guiche is at Etampes?"
"Citizen General, I pray you to excuse me, but I have no idea" "Ah, morbleu, my dear master, have you forgotten the most idle, the most lawless, the most incorrigible of your scholars?" "A thousand pardons, you are Monsieur Junot." "Himself!" replied Junot, renewing his embraces, and laughing with his friends at the singular characteristics by which he had caused himself to be recognized.
"It is nature, you mean," replied the marechale: "the nightingale is born to sing, and you, comte Jean, were born to swear; is it not true?" "Morbleu, madam, you are right." After this conversation the marechale went out, and Comte Jean departed to arrange his plans for the king's amusement.
"Morbleu! he'll return to his own accursed country... glad enough to have escaped with his skin.... I suppose," added Collot with sudden anxiety, "you have no fear that he will refuse at the last moment to write that letter?" The two men were sitting in the large room, out of which opened the one which was now occupied by Marguerite.
I should like to have seen if they would have climbed walls like lizards. Stay, colonel, listen to an old fox. To be a good conspirator, you must have, first, what you have, courage; but you must also have what you have not, patience. Morbleu! if I had such an affair in my hands, I would answer for it that I would bring it to a good end, and if you like to make it over to me we will talk of that."
A propos of some recent acting in London we began to talk of Moliere, and presently, as though to shut out the stream of words opposite, which was damping conversation, the old poet how the splendid brow and the white hair come back to me! fell to quoting from the famous sonnet scene in "Le Misanthrope": first of all, Alceste's rage with Phillinte's flattery of the wretched verses declaimed by Oronte "Morbleu! vil complaisant, vous louez des sottises"; then the admirable fencing between Oronte and Alceste, where Alceste at first tries to convey his contempt for Oronte's sonnet indirectly, and then bursts out: "Ce n'est que jeu de mots, qu'affectation pure, Et ce n'est point ainsi que parle la nature!"
Morbleu! a Marquis de Rochebriant, if he were sixty years old, would rank high in the matrimonial market. The more the democrats have sought to impoverish titles and laugh down historical names, the more do rich democrat fathers-in-law seek to decorate their daughters with titles and give their grandchildren the heritage of historical names. You look shocked, pauvre anti.
"A cart, . . ." he shouted breathlessly, even before he had reached the gates. "What cart?" asked Bibot, roughly. "Driven by an old hag. . . . A covered cart . . ." "There were a dozen . . ." "An old hag who said her son had the plague?" "Yes . . ." "You have not let them go?" "MORBLEU!" said Bibot, whose purple cheeks had suddenly become white with fear.
Biron hates us, hates me. And for the King, if he do not see you for a few days, 'twill blow over in a week." Count Hannibal shrugged his shoulders. "No," he said, "I shall go." The Marshal stared a moment. "Morbleu!" he said, "why? 'Tis not to please the King, I know. What do you think to find there, brother?" "A minister," Hannibal answered gently.
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