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And Rosey said, "Oh, thank you, Clive," and held out that pretty little hand, and looked so sweet and kind and happy, that Clive could not but be charmed at the sight of so much innocence and candour. "Quasty peecoly Rosiny," says James, in a fine Scotch Italian, "e la piu bella, la piu cara, ragazza ma la mawdry e il diav "
Having arranged my room to my satisfaction, I gave myself up to the intoxication of despair. I probed my heart to the bottom in order to sound its depths. A Tyrolean song that my loved one used to sing began to run through my head: Altra volta gieri biele, Blanch' a rossa com' un flore, Ma ora no. Non son piu biele Consumatis dal' amore.
What is common to them all, that perfectness and harmony, is beauty. The standard of beauty is the entire circuit of natural forms, the totality of nature; which the Italians expressed by defining beauty "il piu nell' uno." Nothing is quite beautiful alone: nothing but is beautiful in the whole. A single object is only so far beautiful as it suggests this universal grace.
A day or so after we went out to those pleasant black-robed, bearded Armenians in their monastery at Saint Lazzaro, and returned towards sundown. We fell into silence. "PIU LENTO," said Margaret to the gondolier, and released my accumulated resolution. "Let us go back to London," I said abruptly. Margaret looked at me with surprised blue eyes.
In questa nostra navigatione fatta per ordine du V. S. M., oltre i gradi 92 che dal detto meridiano verso lo occidente della prima terra trovamo gradi 34 navigando leghe 300 infra oriente e settentrione leghe 400, quasi allo oriente continuo el lito della terra siamo pervenuti per infino a gradi 50, lasciando la terra che piu tempe fa trovorno li Lusitani, quali seguirno piu al septentrione, pervenendo sino al circulo artico e'l fine lasciendo incognito.
But another reading, found in a majority of the early MSS. and editions, including those of Jesi and Mantua gives the variation, piu lume; while the editions of Foligno and Naples give lieve, which, affording no intelligible meaning, must be regarded as a mere misprint.
He sat down at a piano, and began to touch the keys. Harz poured out some wine. Sarelli nodded. "You begin with that? Allegro piu presto! "Wine brandy kummel!" he quickened the time of the tune: "it is not too long a passage, and this" he took his hands off the keys "comes after." Harz smiled. "Some men do not kill themselves," he said.
And when Maurice went away with Gaspare in the night towards the white road where Tito, tied to a stake, was waiting to carry the empty pannier that had contained a supper up the mountain to the house of the priest, Salvatore stood handling his money, and murmuring: "Maledetto straniero! Madonna! Ma io sono più birbante di Lei, mille volte più birbante, Dio mio!"
Having arranged my room to my satisfaction I gave myself up to the intoxication of despair. I probed my heart to the bottom in order to sound its depths. A Tyrolean song that my mistress used to sing began to run through my head: Altra volta gieri biele, Blanch 'e rossa com' un flore; Ma ora no. Non son piu biele, Consumatis dal' amore.*
Carleton inclined, however, to suspect Grotius, "because," said he, "having always before been a stranger to my house, he has made me the day before the publication thereof a complimentary visit, although it was Sunday and church time; whereby the Italian proverb, 'Chi ti caresse piu che suole, &c., is added to other likelihoods."
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