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Updated: June 4, 2025
Heaven rest his soul, say I, and so does the good Father Rameau. For his gift to the Church seems an act of faith." "And Jeanne?" inquired the woman tremblingly. "It is about the child I have come to talk. Monsieur Bellestre has made some provision for her, queerly worded, too." "Oh, he does not take her away from me!" cried the foster mother in anguish. "No.
Could a true mother lend herself to such a cruel scheme? Why was she not drawn to her, instead of experiencing this fear and repulsion? Would they keep her here, shut her up in a dark room as they had years ago, when she had kicked and screamed until Father Rameau had let her out to liberty and the glorious sunlight? Could she not make one wild dash now
M. de la Popliniere was the Mecaenas of Rameau; Madam de la Popliniere his very humble scholar. Rameau was said to govern in that house. Judging that he would with pleasure protect the work of one of his disciples, I wished to show him what I had done. He refused to examine it; saying he could not read score, it was too fatiguing to him.
"You will certify, will you not," asked Hewitt, with malicious glee, "not only that you were not murdered last Saturday by Victor Goujon, but that, in fact, you were not murdered at all? Also, that you carried your own body away in the usual fashion, on your own legs." "Yes, yes," responded Rameau, looking haggardly about; "but is not zis zis room publique? I should not be seen."
Faded into thin air was the vague jealousy of Gustave Rameau which he had so unreasonably conceived; he felt as if it were impossible that the man whom the "Ondine of Paris" claimed as her lover could dare to woo or hope to win an Isaura. He even forgot the friendship with the eloquent denouncer of the marriage-bond, which a little while ago had seemed to him an unpardonable offence.
I can allow no sinister influence to stand between her fate and honour." "You speak well and nobly, M. le Vicomte," said Rameau, "and I give the promise you exact." He added, feelingly: "It is true her heart has never been corrupted that is good, affectionate, unselfish as a child's. J'ai l'honneur de vous saluer, M. le Vicomte."
'What! cries your poet-son, 'la levee en masse gives us fifteen millions of soldiers, with which we could crush, not Prussia alone, but the whole of Europe. "Pardon me this long description, my dear M. Rameau, but I trust I have satisfactorily explained why victory obtained in the teeth of his eloquent opinions, if gratifying to him as a Frenchman, must be mortifying to him as a politician."
On one of the doors on the landing-place was nailed a card, inscribed, "Gustave Rameau, homme de lettres." Certainly it is not usual in Paris thus to afficher one's self as a "man of letters"? But Genius scorns what is usual.
You not only regard him as a being distinct from the crowd of a salon; he stands equally apart in the chamber of your thoughts, you do not mention him in the same letter as that which treats of Rameau and Savarin. He has become already an image not to be lightly mixed up with others. You would rather not have mentioned him at all to me, but you could not resist it.
Rameau took her hand, which she yielded to him passively, and clasping it in both his own, he rushed on impulsively "Oh, I know what these misgivings are when we feel ourselves solitary, unloved: how often have they been mine! But how different would labour be if shared and sympathised with by a congenial mind, by a heart that beats in unison with one's own!"
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