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Updated: May 15, 2025
Among the features of the performance which called out the warmest applause was Panseron's grand duo for voice and violin, "Le Songe de Tartini," Mlle. Garcia both singing and playing the piano-forte accompaniment with remarkable skill. Two years afterward Mile. Garcia married M. Viardot, director of the Italian Opera at Paris, and De Bériot espoused Mlle.
"Souvent un peu de verite Se mele au plus grossier mensonge: Cette nuit, dans l'erreur d'un songe, Au rang des rois j'etais monte. Je vous aimais, Princesse, et j'osais vous le dire! Les dieux a mon reveil ne m'ont pas tout ote, Je n'ai perdu que mon empire." "Si Paris venait sur la terre Pour juger entre vos beaux yeux, Il couperait la pomme en deux, Et ne produirait pas de guerre."
"En quel songe Se plonge Mon coeur, et que veut-il?" For an hour past I have been the prey of a vague anxiety; I recognize my old enemy.... It is a sense of void and anguish; a sense of something lacking: what? Love, peace God perhaps. The feeling is one of pure want unmixed with hope, and there is anguish in it because I can clearly distinguish neither the evil nor its remedy.
Guessing that Madame Necker had been lecturing her, Suard went towards her to comfort her, and whispered, "Un caresse du papa vous dedommagera bien de tout ca." She immediately, wiping the tears from her eyes, answered, "Eh! oui, Monsieur, mon pere songe a mon bonheur present, maman songe a mon avenir."
There is a treatise in Italian, 'Delle Passioni'; there are long dialogues, such as 'Le Philosophe et le Theologien', and 'Reve': 'Dieu-Moi'; there is the 'Songe d'un Quart d'Heure', divided into minutes; there is the very lengthy criticism of 'Bernardin de Saint-Pierre'; there is the 'Confutation d'une Censure indiscrate qu'on lit dans la Gazette de Iena, 19 Juin 1789'; with another large manuscript, unfortunately imperfect, first called 'L'Insulte', and then 'Placet au Public', dated 'Dux, this 2nd March, 1790, referring to the same criticism on the 'Icosameron' and the 'Fuite des Prisons.
Being now alone, he drew the card from his bosom, and, as if to convince himself that what he saw was truth and no cruel dream, he read aloud, but with a trembling voice: "On remarque, pour l'ordinaire, Qu'un songe eat analoque a notre caractere, On heros peut rever, qu'il a passe le Rhin, Un chien qu'il aboie a la lune; Un joueur, qu'il a fait fortune, Un voleur, qu'il a fait butin.
J'eus occasian de voir aussi dans Andrinople des chaînes de chrétiens qu'on amenoit vendre. Ils demandoient l'aumône dans les rues. Mais le coeur saigne quand on songe
Comme les perles et les é tol les Or-nent dé ja le front des cleux La nuit e-tend partout votle Elle vient de ju fermer mes yeux, Re viendras tu dans un doux songe, O mon bel ange, tor que j'adore Me re pe ter divers mensonges Me re pe ter -ye taime encore
You remember Dumas's description of it, and La Fontaine's Songe de Vaux, in which he says that everything conspired for the pleasure of the King, music, fountains, Molière's plays, in which he was praised, even the moon and the stars seemed to shine for him, on those nights at Vaux. "And the fruits of the earth, and of the greenhouses yielded up their treasures for him," said M. La Tour.
"Once upon a time there was in France," said a ,pamphlet, entitled Le Songe de M. de Maurepas, attributed to Monsieur, the king's brother, "there was in France a certain man, clumsy, crass, heavy, born with more of rudeness than of character, more of obstinacy than of firmness, of impetuosity than of tact, a charlatan in administration as well as in virtue, made to bring the one into disrepute and the other into disgust, in other respects shy from self-conceit, timid from pride, as unfamiliar with men, whom he had never known, as with public affairs, which he had always seen askew; his name was Turgot.
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