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Mon coeur volage, dit elle, N'est pas pour vous, garcon; Est pour un homme de guerre, Qui a barbe au menton. Lon, Lon, Laridon. Qui port chapeau a plume, Soulier a rouge talon, Qui joue de la flute, Aussi du violon. Lon, Lon, Laridon.
Some little revenge still!" The count touched the arm of the musing usurer, "J'ai bien joue mon role, n'est ce pas?" "Your part! Ah, but, my dear count, I do not quite understand it." "Ma foi, you are passably dull. I had just been landed in France, when a letter from L'Estrange reached me. It was couched as an invitation, which I interpreted to the duello. Such invitations I never refuse.
Mon coeur volage, dit elle, N'est pas pour vous, garcon; Est pour un homme de guerre, Qui a barbe au menton. Lon, Lon, Laridon. Qui port chapeau a plume, Soulier a rouge talon, Qui joue de la flute, Aussi du violon. Lon, Lon, Laridon.
"On assure que sa majesté ne joue pas bien; ce que personne, excepté le roi, n'a osé lui dire. Au contraire, on l'applaudit
What a man of change and fantasy! Here it was he qui tendait la joue. Cold, distant, dreamy one would have thought him either indifferent or hostile to the whole great pageant and its meanings. Only once did Lucy see him bestir himself show a gleam of animation. A white-haired priest, all tremulous dignity and delicacy, stood for a moment beside the rope-barrier, waiting for a friend.
Eustache into the Tiquetonne, and thence Rue Tire Boudin was but a short step. I need not say with what joy the good Pierrebon received me, and after a light supper in which, I fear, I did but scant justice to De Lorgnac's Joué I determined to snatch an hour or so of rest before starting. Before doing so, however, Lorgnac took me to see the horses.
for what did she care for such particulars when her eyes were at their clearest? Her perception was intellectual; and to the penetrating glances of her mental vision the objects of the sensual world were mere irrelevance. The kind of writing produced by such a quality of mind may seem thin and barren to those accustomed to the wealth and variety of the Romantic school. Yet it will repay attention. The vocabulary is very small; but every word is the right one; this old lady of high society, who had never given a thought to her style, who wrote and spelt by the light of nature, was a past mistress of that most difficult of literary accomplishments 'l'art de dire en un mot tout ce qu'un mot peut dire. The object of all art is to make suggestions. The romantic artist attains that end by using a multitude of different stimuli, by calling up image after image, recollection after recollection, until the reader's mind is filled and held by a vivid and palpable evocation; the classic works by the contrary method of a fine economy, and, ignoring everything but what is essential, trusts, by means of the exact propriety of his presentation, to produce the required effect. Madame du Deffand carries the classical ideal to its furthest point. She never strikes more than once, and she always hits the nail on the head. Such is her skill that she sometimes seems to beat the Romantics even on their own ground: her reticences make a deeper impression than all the dottings of their i's. The following passage from a letter to Walpole is characteristic: Nous eûmes une musique charmante, une dame qui joue de la harpe
Il y en a tel, dont l'adresse joue si bien a coup sur, qu'il fait deliberer le Conseil plusieurs jours de suite, sur une matiere dont la determination est arretee entre lui & les principales tetes avant d'avoir ete mise sur le tapis.
"'Ah, bandit! And the King flung a sippet of toast after him as he added: 'I am hedged in with robbers. "'That is true, sire, I said gravely. "'You heard that at Créquy's last night. And there was a sharp note in Diane's voice. "'Oh yes; and much worse. "'Come, tell us! said the King. "'Sire, you will remember that Monsieur Joué and Monsieur d'Arbois are inveterate gossips.
This puts the minx entirely in my power; LE TOUR EST JOUE; she will now go steady in harness, or I will know the reason why. Come. 'Command yourself, madam, said the Countess, watching with some alarm the white face of Seraphina. 'It is in vain for you to fight with Gondremark; he has more strings than mere court favour, and could bring you down to-morrow with a word.
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