Idalia, by 'Ouida'. |
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Anacapri answered Antina Apennines bajocchi beauty beneath betrayed bitter blood bold broken Capri Capriote captive Carlo of Viana cell chamber Church Cistercian colour Conrad Phaulcon danger dare dark dead death disdain doune Eccellenza Ercel Erceldoune euphuisms eyes face fell felt fire flashed flung flushed gaze Giulio Villaflor glance gleamed glittering gloom gold hand hate hatred haughty head heard heart honour hound Idalia Ischia Italian Italy knew lancet window lash laughed liberty light lips lives looked loveliness monastery monk Monsignore Naples Neapolitan ness never Nicolò night oath once pain passed passion paused peril priest Prince-Bishop prisoner proud rock rose scarce scorn shadow shame shook shot silence smile soldiers sophism spoke steel stone stood stooped Sulla swept tell things thought torture touch turned Umbrian uttered Vane Vassalis Venetian Viana villa voice waters weary wild woman words
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 305 - And the sultriness showing the lion is couched in his lair. And the meal, the rich dates yellowed over with gold dust divine, And the locust-flesh steeped in the pitcher, the full draught of wine, And the sleep in the dried river-channel where bulrushes tell That the water was wont to go warbling so softly and well. How good is man's life, the mere living ! how fit to employ All the heart and the soul and the senses for ever in joy...
Seite 320 - ... person, sought only to fling off the grasp that strangled and the arms that crushed him ; his foe, rife with revenge and burning with a rival's hate against the spoiler who would have left him nothing of his love save a vain unending agony, could have torn his heart out where they wrested in as deadly combat as ever was that with which retiarius and secutor reddened the white sand of Augustan amphitheatres. A moment, and the hardier strength, the leonine force, of Erceldoune, so often tested...
Seite 308 - Algeria more than once, when the chiefs had been shot down, or to imperil his life against all odds in a deadly' contest with overpowering numbers, as had chanced to him in Persian defiles and Argentine revolutions, was far more suited to his temper and his instincts than the part that, for her sake, fell to him in these cloisters of Taverna.
Seite 288 - Surely, my son. It would be well that she should be reclaimed. But, of a truth " " What ? Can a priest speak truth ?" " Hush, my son ; you must not be so bitter upon the appointed of God. I was going to say" — the monk played restlessly with the savoury bones he had been crunching, and the colour burnt in his yellow cheek, as his voice sank low, and his eyes glanced around furtively — " whether it was sorcery given her by the Evil One or no I cannot tell, but there was such a look in her eyes...
Seite 284 - ... buttery: stretching the nets and thrashing the sedges till the frightened fish swam in by the score ; working through hour on hour till the Umbrian brought him his mess of breakfast-soup, and some tough cakes of rye, and sat down beside him under the stunted cypresses, gazing with devouring, delighted eyes at the stores of food laid upon the banks. " Thanks, father ; but that is a poor breakfast for either of us. See here ; I have done better than you...
Seite 323 - ... embrace, Erceldoune turned and looked at the woman for whose sake he had fought, as a hound, called off from the throat of the thief he has pulled down, looks at the master he obeys, even whilst he longs to serve him, and revenge him with the death-gripe. He took his heel off the neck of Giulio Villaflor.
Seite 287 - The king's, my son." " The king's ! Has he no prisons of his own, then, that he must borrow your convent ?" The Umbrian hesitated ; he was sore afraid to answer the question, but he was more immediately afraid that his impetuous questioner should sweep his meal away again. "Monsignore Villaflor is interested in her recovery to the One Faith, my son," he said, slowly and unwillingly.
Seite 307 - Come," he whispered, as he passed the Umbrian, " and if you can bring lemons, sugar, and spices with you, you shall dream yourself in paradise to-night !" " Hush, my dear son ; do not be so profane !" murmured the other, while his eyes danced in expectant ecstasy. " I will come, and bring the things, if I can, from the buttery. Your tales were beautiful, but I thought the Superior would never have let you go !" " Great Heaven ! to save my own life I would not stoop to dupe and bribe these brutes...
Seite 312 - The oath that shook the stone walls thrilled even through the mists of drink and the imbecility of his dulled brain, as it was hurled from his hearer's lips; an agony was in it such as mere grief never spoke yet. The Umbrian, sobered by it for the moment, shuddered and strove to rise, looking about him with blind, terrified eyes. "What have I said? What have I done ?
Seite 308 - His own flask was large and full of brandy, strong as fire and mellow as oil; he emptied out half the water of his pitcher, tossed the whole of the cognac in instead, and with the spices, lemons, and sugar, made a fragrant and intoxicating drink. The Umbrian, squatted on the dry grasses of the bed, watched its preparation with thirsty, devouring eyes. " He will be dead drunk before this is half' empty,