Benjamin Williams Leader paintings

Benjamin Williams Leader paintings
Bartolome Esteban Murillo paintings
Little did my poor aunt imagine what a gush of devout thankfulness thrilled through me as she approached the close of her melancholy story. Here was a career of usefulness opened before me! Here was a beloved relative and perishing fellow-creature, on the eve of the great change, utterly unprepared; and led, providentially led, to reveal her situation to Me! How can I describe the joy with which I now remembered that the precious clerical friends on whom I could rely, were to be counted, not by ones or twos, but by tens and twenties! I took my aunt in my arms--my overflowing tenderness was not to be satisfied, now, with anything less than an embrace. `Oh!' I said to her, fervently, `the indescribable interest with which you inspire me! Oh! the good I mean to do you, dear, before we part!' After another word or two of earnest prefatory warning, I gave her her choice of three precious friends, all plying the work of mercy from morning to night in her own neighbourhood; all equally inexhaustible in exhortation; all affectionately ready to exercise their gifts at a word from me. Alas! the result was far from encouraging. Poor Lady Verinder looked puzzled and frightened, and met everything I could say to her with the purely wordly

Peter Paul Rubens paintings

Peter Paul Rubens paintings
Rudolf Ernst paintings
the purpose of forcing the most painful of all possible explanations to take place between her ladyship and himself.
`I have heard a motive assigned for the young woman's suicide,' said the Sergeant, `which may possibly be the right one. It is a motive quite unconnected with the case which I am conducting here. I am bound to add, however, that my own opinion points the other way. Some unbearable anxiety in connection with the missing Diamond, has, I believe, driven the poor creature to her destruction. I don't pretend to know what that unbearable anxiety may have been. But I think (with your ladyship's permission) I can lay my hand on a person who is capable of deciding whether I am right or wrong.'
`Is the person now in the house?' my mistress asked, after waiting a little.
`The person has left the house, my lady.'
That answer pointed as straight to Miss Rachel as straight could be. A silence dropped on us which I thought would never come to an end. Lord! how the wind howled, and how the rain drove at the window, as I sat there waiting for one or other of them to speak again!
`Be so good as to express yourself plainly,' said my lady. `Do you refer to my daughter?'

Julien Dupre paintings

Julien Dupre paintings
Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings
, in the house, instead of out of it. But doors and listeners have a knack of getting together; and, in my line of life, we cultivate a healthy taste for the open air.'
Who was to circumvent this man? I gave in--and waited as patiently as I could to hear what was coming next.
`We won't enter into your young lady's motives,' the Sergeant went on; `we will only say it's a pity she declines to assist me, because, by so doing, she makes this investigation more difficult than it might otherwise have been. We must now try to solve the mystery of the smear on the door--which, you may take my word for it, means the mystery of the Diamond also--in some other way. I have decided to see the servants, and to search their thoughts and actions, Mr. Betteredge, instead of searching their wardrobes. Before I begin, however, I want to ask you a question or two. You are an observant man--did you notice anything strange in any of the servants (making due allowance, of course, for fright and fluster), after the loss of the Diamond was found out? Any particular quarrel among them? Any one of them not in his or her usual spirits? Unexpectedly out of temper, for instance? or unexpectedly taken ill?'
I had just time to think of Rosanna Spearman's sudden illness at yesterday's dinner--but not time to

William Bouguereau The Virgin with Angels painting

William Bouguereau The Virgin with Angels painting
Gustav Klimt lady with hat and feather boa painting
It's lovely in the woods now. All the little wood things--the ferns and the satin leaves and the crackerberries--have gone to sleep, just as if somebody had tucked them away until spring under a blanket of leaves. I think it was a little gray fairy with a rainbow scarf that came tiptoeing along the last moonlight night and did it. Diana wouldn't say much about that, though. Diana has never forgotten the scolding her mother gave her about imagining ghosts into the Haunted Wood. It had a very bad effect on Diana's imagination. It blighted it. Mrs. Lynde says Myrtle Bell is a blighted being. I asked Ruby Gillis why Myrtle was blighted, and Ruby said she guessed it was because her young man had gone back on her. Ruby Gillis thinks of nothing but young men, and the older she gets the worse she is. Young men are all very well in their place, but it doesn't do to drag them into everything, does it? Diana and I are thinking seriously of promising each

William Bouguereau Biblis painting

William Bouguereau Biblis painting
William Bouguereau the first kiss painting
Anne Shirley! How on earth did you get there?" he exclaimed.
Without waiting for an answer he pulled close to the pile and extended his hand. There was no help for it; Anne, clinging to Gilbert Blythe's hand, scrambled down into the dory, where she sat, drabbled and furious, in the stern with her arms full of dripping shawl and wet crepe. It was certainly extremely difficult to be dignified under the circumstances!
"What has happened, Anne?" asked Gilbert, taking up his oars. "We were playing Elaine" explained Anne frigidly, without even looking at her rescuer, "and I had to drift down to Camelot in the barge--I mean the flat. The flat began to leak and I climbed out on the pile. The girls went for help. Will you be kind enough to row me to the landing?"
Gilbert obligingly rowed to the landing and Anne, disdaining assistance, sprang nimbly on shore.
"I'm very much obliged to you," she said haughtily as she turned away. But Gilbert had also sprung from the boat and now laid a detaining hand on her arm.
"Anne," he said hurriedly, "look here. Can't we be good friends? I'm awfully

John William Godward Nu Sur La Plage painting

John William Godward Nu Sur La Plage painting
Gustav Klimt The Kiss (Le Baiser _ Il Baccio) painting
really a satisfaction to know that she was going home to a briskly snapping wood fire and a table nicely spread for tea, instead of to the cold comfort of old Aid meeting evenings before Anne had come to Green Gables.
Consequently, when Marilla entered her kitchen and found the fire black out, with no sign of Anne anywhere, she felt justly disappointed and irritated. She had told Anne to be sure and have tea ready at five o'clock, but now she must hurry to take off her second-best dress and prepare the meal herself against Matthew's return from plowing.
"I'll settle Miss Anne when she comes home," said Marilla grimly, as she shaved up kindlings with a carving knife and with more vim than was strictly necessary. Matthew had come in and was waiting patiently for his tea in his corner. "She's gadding off somewhere with Diana, writing stories or practicing dialogues or some such tomfoolery, and never thinking once about the time or her duties. She's just got to be pulled up short and sudden on this sort of thing. I don't care if Mrs. Allan does say she's the brightest and sweetest child she ever knew. She may be bright and sweet enough, but her

John William Waterhouse The Lady of Shalott painting

John William Waterhouse The Lady of Shalott painting
John Singer Sargent Two Women Asleep in a Punt under the Willows painting
Whatever is the matter, Diana?" cried Anne. "Has your mother relented at last?"
"Oh, Anne, do come quick," implored Diana nervously. "Minnie May is awful sick--she's got croup. Young Mary Joe says--and Father and Mother are away to town and there's nobody to go for the doctor. Minnie May is awful bad and Young Mary Joe doesn't know what to do--and oh, Anne, I'm so scared!"
Matthew, without a word, reached out for cap and coat, slipped past Diana and away into the darkness of the yard.
"He's gone to harness the sorrel mare to go to Carmody for the doctor," said Anne, who was hurrying on hood and jacket. "I know it as well as if he'd said so. Matthew and I are such kindred spirits I can read his thoughts without words at all."
"I don't believe he'll find the doctor at Carmody," sobbed Diana. "I know that Dr. Blair went to town and I guess Dr.

Eric Wallis Roman Girl painting

Eric Wallis Roman Girl painting
Lord Frederick Leighton Leighton Idyll painting
But when she slipped into the east gable before going to bed and found that Anne had cried herself to sleep an unaccustomed softness crept into her face.
"Poor little soul," she murmured, lifting a loose curl of hair from the child's tear-stained face. Then she bent down and kissed the flushed cheek on the pillow. The next afternoon Anne, bending over her patchwork at the kitchen window, happened to glance out and beheld Diana down by the Dryad's Bubble beckoning mysteriously. In a trice Anne was out of the house and flying down to the hollow, astonishment and hope struggling in her expressive eyes. But the hope faded when she saw Diana's dejected countenance.
"Your mother hasn't relented?" she gasped.
Diana shook her head mournfully. No; and oh, Anne, she says I'm never to play with you again. I've cried and cried and I told her it wasn't your fault, but it wasn't any use. I had ever such a time coaxing her to let me come down and say good-bye to you. She said I was only to stay ten minutes and she's timing me by the clock."

Andrew Atroshenko paintings

Andrew Atroshenko paintings
Alfred Gockel paintings
picture in my mind, as quick as that! And White Sands is a pretty name, too; but I don't like it as well as Avonlea. Avonlea is a lovely name. It just sounds like music. How far is it to White Sands?"
"It's five miles; and as you're evidently bent on talking you might as well talk to some purpose by telling me what you know about yourself."
"Oh, what I know about myself isn't really worth telling," said Anne eagerly. "If you'll only let me tell you what I imagine about myself you'll think it ever so much more interesting."
"No, I don't want any of your imaginings. Just you stick to bald facts. Begin at the beginning. Where were you born and how old are you?"
"I was eleven last March," said Anne, resigning herself to bald facts with a little sigh. "And I was born in Bolingbroke

Patrick Devonas paintings

Patrick Devonas paintings
Peder Mork Monsted paintings
She deliberately picked up Anne's clothes, placed them neatly on a prim yellow chair, and then, taking up the candle, went over to the bed.
"Good night," she said, a little awkwardly, but not unkindly.
Anne's white face and big eyes appeared over the bedclothes with a startling suddenness.
"How can you call it a good night when you know it must be the very worst night I've ever had?" she said reproachfully.
Then she dived down into invisibility again.
Marilla went slowly down to the kitchen and proceeded to wash the supper dishes. Matthew was smoking--a sure sign of perturbation of mind. He seldom smoked, for Marilla set her face against it as a filthy habit; but at certain times and seasons he felt driven to it and them Marilla winked at the practice, realizing that a mere man must have some vent for his emotions.

Il'ya Repin paintings

Il'ya Repin paintings
Igor V.Babailov paintings
great big woods with other trees all around you and little mosses and Junebells growing over your roots and a brook not far away and birds singing in you branches, you could grow, couldn't you? But you can't where you are. I know just exactly how you feel, little trees.' I felt sorry to leave them behind this morning. You do get so attached to things like that, don't you? Is there a brook anywhere near Green Gables? I forgot to ask Mrs. Spencer that."
"Well now, yes, there's one right below the house."
"Fancy. It's always been one of my dreams to live near a brook. I never expected I would, though. Dreams don't often come true, do they? Wouldn't it be nice if they did? But just now I feel pretty nearly perfectly happy. I can't feel exactly perfectly happy because--well, what color would you call this?"

Thomas Kinkade The Good Life painting

Thomas Kinkade The Good Life painting
Thomas Kinkade The Garden of Prayer painting
hidden under almost as many wrappers from the eyes of the mind, as from the eyes of the body, of his two companions. In those days, travellers were very shy of being confidential on short notice, for anybody on the road might be a robber or in league with robbers. As to the latter, when every posting-house and ale-house could produce somebody in `the Captain's' pay, ranging from the landlord to the lowest stable nondescript, it was the likeliest thing upon the cards. So the guard of the Dover mail thought to himself, that Friday night in November, one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five, lumbering up Shooter's Hill, as he stood on his own particular perch behind the mail, beating his feet, and keeping an eye and a hand on the arm-chest before him, where a loaded blunderbuss lay at the top of six or eight loaded horse-pistols, deposited on a substratum of cutlass.
The Dover mail was in its usual genial position that the guard suspected the passengers, the passengers suspected one another and the

Thomas Kinkade FenwayPark painting

Thomas Kinkade FenwayPark painting
Thomas Kinkade Evening on the Avenue painting
Da lief der Wolf zum Bäcker und sprach: "Ich habe mir den Fuß angestoßen, streich mir Teig darüber!" Als ihm der Bäcker die Pfote bestrichen hatte, lief er zum Müller und sprach: "Streu mir weißes Mehl auf meine Pfote!" Der Müller dachte, der Wolf wolle jemanden betrügen, und weigerte sich. Aber der Wolf sprach: "Wenn du es nicht tust, fresse ich dich!" Da fürchtete sich der Müller und machte ihm die Pfote weiß.
Nun ging der Bösewicht zum dritten Mal zu der Haustür, klopfte an und sprach: "Macht auf, Kinder, euer liebes Mütterchen ist heimgekommen und hat jedem von euch etwas aus dem Wald mitgebracht!"
Die Geißlein riefen: "Zeig uns zuerst deine Pfote, damit wir wissen, daß du unser liebes Mütterchen bist."

Thomas Kinkade Sweetheart Cottage II painting

Thomas Kinkade Sweetheart Cottage II painting
Thomas Kinkade Sunset on Lamplight Lane painting
his prayers, and was just going to sit down to work, the two shoes stood quite finished on his table. He was astounded, and knew not what to think. He took the shoes in his hands to observe them closer, and they were so neatly made, with not one bad stitch in them, that it was just as if they were intended as a masterpiece. Before long, a buyer came in, and as the shoes pleased him so well, he paid more for them than was customary, and, with the money, the shoemaker was able to purchase leather for two pairs of shoes. He cut them out at night, and next morning was about to set to work with fresh courage, but he had no need to do so for, when he got up, they were already made, and buyers also were not wanting, who gave him money enough to buy leather for four pairs of shoes. Again the following morning he found the pairs made, and so it went on constantly, what he cut out in the evening was finished by the morning, so that he soon had his honest independence again, and at last became a wealthy man.

Thomas Kinkade Sweetheart Cottage II painting

Thomas Kinkade Sweetheart Cottage II painting
Thomas Kinkade Sunset on Lamplight Lane painting
Gerne", antwortete der kleine Mann, "nimm du nur den Stamm auf deine Schulter, ich will die Äste mit dem Gezweig aufheben und tragen, das ist doch das schwerste."
Der Riese nahm den Stamm auf die Schulter, der Schneider aber setzte sich auf einen Ast, und der Riese, der sich nicht umsehen konnte, mußte den ganzen Baum und das Schneiderlein noch obendrein forttragen. Es war dahinten ganz lustig und guter Dinge, pfiff das Liedchen "Es ritten drei Schneider zum Tore hinaus", als wäre das Baumtragen ein Kinderspiel. Der Riese, nachdem er ein Stück Wegs die schwere Last fortgeschleppt hatte, konnte nicht weiter und rief: "Hör, ich muß den Baum fallen lassen." Der Schneider sprang behendiglich herab, faßte den Baum mit beiden Armen, als wenn er ihn getragen hätte, und sprach zum Riesen: "Du bist ein so großer Kerl und kannst den Baum nicht einmal tragen."
Sie gingen zusammen weiter, und als sie an einem Kirschbaum vorbeikamen, faßte der Riese die Krone des Baumes, wo die zeitigsten Früchte hingen, bog sie herab, gab sie dem Schneider in die Hand und

Fabian Perez white and red painting

Fabian Perez white and red painting
Johannes Vermeer Girl with a Pearl Earring painting
Daß ich dich besser hören kann."
"Ei, Großmutter, was hast du für große Augen!"
"Daß ich dich besser sehen kann."
"Ei, Großmutter, was hast du für große Hände"
"Daß ich dich besser packen kann."
"Aber, Großmutter, was hast du für ein entsetzlich großes Maul!"
"Daß ich dich besser fressen kann."
Kaum hatte der Wolf das gesagt, so tat er einen Satz aus dem Bette und verschlang das arme Rotkäppchen.
Wie der Wolf sein Gelüsten gestillt hatte, legte er sich wieder ins Bett, schlief ein und fing an, überlaut zu schnarchen.
Der Jäger ging eben an dem Haus vorbei und dachte: "Wie die alte Frau schnarcht, du mußt doch sehen

Tamara de Lempicka Self Portrait in Green Bugatti painting

Tamara de Lempicka Self Portrait in Green Bugatti painting
Thomas Cole The Notch of the White Mountains (Crawford Notch) painting
She was surprised to find the cottage-door standing open, and when she went into the room, she had such a strange feeling that she said to herself, oh dear, how uneasy I feel to-day, and at other times I like being with grandmother so much.
She called out, "Good morning," but received no answer. So she went to the bed and drew back the curtains. There lay her grandmother with her cap pulled far over her face, and looking very strange.
"Oh, grandmother," she said, "what big ears you have."
"The better to hear you with, my child," was the reply.
"But, grandmother, what big eyes you have," she said.
"The better to see you with, my dear."
"But, grandmother, what large hands you have."
"The better to hug you with."
"Oh, but, grandmother, what a terrible big mouth you have."
"The better to eat you with."

William Bouguereau Evening Mood painting

3d art The Kiss by arturojm painting
William Bouguereau Evening Mood painting
should go home. The sun was still half above the mountain and half under. Joringel looked through the bushes, and saw the old walls of the castle close at hand. He was horror-stricken and filled with deadly fear. Jorinda was singing,
"My little bird, with the necklace red,Sings sorrow, sorrow, sorrow,He sings that the dove must soon be dead,Sings sorrow, sor - jug, jug, jug."
Joringel looked for Jorinda. She was changed into a nightingale, and sang, jug, jug, jug. A screech-owl with glowing eyes flew three times round about her, and three times cried, to-whoo, to-whoo, to-whoo.
Joringel could not move. He stood there like a stone, and could neither weep nor speak, nor move hand or foot. The sun had now set. The owl flew into the thicket, and directly afterwards there came out of it a crooked old woman, yellow and lean, with large red eyes and a hooked nose, the point of which reached to her chin. She muttered to herself, caught the nightingale, and took it away in her hand. Joringel could neither speak nor move from the spot. The nightingale was gone.

Diane Romanello paintings

Diane Romanello paintings
Diego Rivera paintings
The woman, however, would listen to nothing that he had to say, but scolded and reproached him. He who says a must say b, likewise, and as he had yielded the first time, he had to do so a second time also.
The children, however, were still awake and had heard the conversation. When the old folks were asleep, Hansel again got up, and wanted to go out and pick up pebbles as he had done before, but the woman had locked the door, and Hansel could not get out. Nevertheless he comforted his little sister, and said, "Do not cry, Gretel, go to sleep quietly, the good God will help us." <
Early in the morning came the woman, and took the children out of their beds. Their piece of bread was given to them, but it was still smaller than the time before. On the way into the forest Hansel crumbled his in his pocket, and often stood still and threw a morsel on the ground. "Hansel, why do you stop and look round, said the father, "go on."

Nancy O'Toole paintings

Nancy O'Toole paintings
Pino paintings
Falada, sagte die Kammerfrau "auf Falada gehör ich, und auf meinen Gaul gehörst du;" und das mußte sie sich gefallen lassen. Dann befahl ihr die Kammerfrau mit harten Worten, die königlichen Kleider auszuziehen und ihre schlechten anzulegen, und endlich mußte sie sich unter freiem Himmel verschwören, daß sie am königlichen Hof keinem Menschen etwas davon sprechen wollte; und wenn sie diesen Eid nicht abgelegt hätte, wäre sie auf der Stelle umgebracht worden. Aber Falada sah das alles an und nahms wohl in acht.
Die Kammerfrau stieg nun auf Falada und die wahre Braut auf das schlechte Roß, und so zogen sie weiter, bis sie endlich in dem königlichen Schloß eintrafen. Da war große Freude über ihre Ankunft, und der Königssohn sprang ihnen entgegen, hob die Kammerfrau vom Pferde und meinte, sie wäre seine Gemahlin: sie ward die Treppe hinaufgeführt, die wahre Königstochter aber mußte unten stehen bleiben. Da schaute der alte König am Fenster und sah sie im Hof halten und sah, wie sie fein war, zart und gar schön: ging alsbald hin ins königliche Gemach und fragte

John William Waterhouse paintings

John William Waterhouse paintings
John Singer Sargent paintings
Then the head answered,
"Alas, young queen, how ill you fare.If this your mother knewHer heart would break in two."
Then they went still further out of the town, and drove their geese into the country. And when they had come to the meadow, she sat down and unbound her hair which was like pure gold, and Conrad saw it and delighted in its brightness, and wanted to pluck out a few hairs. Then she said,
"Blow, blow, thou gentle wind, I say,Blow Conrad's little hat away,And make him chase it here and there,Until I have braided all my hair,And bound it up again."
And there came such a violent wind that it blew Conrad's hat far away across country, and he was forced to run after it. When he came back she

Johannes Vermeer Girl with a Pearl Earring painting

Johannes Vermeer Girl with a Pearl Earring painting
Steve Hanks Blending Into Shadows Sheets painting
Es war ein armer Bauersmann, der sa?abends beim Herd und sch黵te das Feuer, und die Frau sa?und spann. Da sprach er "wie ists so traurig, da?wir keine Kinder haben! es ist so still bei uns, und in den andern H鋟sern ists so laut und lustig."
"Ja," antwortete die Frau und seufzte, "wenns nur ein einziges w鋜e, und wenns auch ganz klein w鋜e, nur Daumens gro? so wollte ich schon zufrieden sein; wir h鋞tens doch von Herzen lieb."
Nun geschah es, da?die Frau kr鋘klich ward und nach sieben Monaten ein Kind gebar, das zwar an allen Gliedern vollkommen, aber nicht l鋘ger als ein Daumen war. Da sprachen sie "es ist, wie wir es gew黱scht haben, und es soll unser liebes Kind sein," und nannten es nach seiner Gestalt Daumesdick. Sie lie遝ns nicht an Nahrung fehlen, aber das Kind ward nicht gr鲞er, sondern blieb, wie es in der ersten Stunde gewesen war; doch schaute es verst鋘dig aus den Augen und zeigte sich bald als ein kluges und behendes Ding, dem alles gl點kte, was es anfing.

Thomas Kinkade Besides Still Waters painting

Thomas Kinkade Besides Still Waters painting
Thomas Kinkade Autumn Lane painting
er sich ausgesucht hatte. "Guten Abend, ihr Herren, geht nur ohne mich heim," rief er ihnen zu, und lachte sie aus. Sie liefen herbei und stachen mit Stöcken in das Mausloch, aber das war vergebliche Mühe, Daumesdick kroch immer weiter zurück, und da es bald ganz dunkel ward, so mußten sie mit Ärger und mit leerem Beutel wieder heim wandern.
Als Daumesdick merkte, daß sie fort waren, kroch er aus dem unterirdischen Gang wieder hervor. "Es ist auf dem Acker in der Finsternis so gefährlich gehen," sprach er, "wie leicht bricht einer Hals und Bein." Zum Glück stieß er an ein leeres Schneckenhaus. "Gottlob," sagte er, "da kann ich die Nacht sicher zubringen," und setzte sich hinein.
Nicht lang, als er eben einschlafen wollte, so hörte er zwei Männer vorübergehen, davon sprach der eine "wie wirs nur anfangen, um dem reichen Pfarrer sein Geld und sein Silber zu holen?,

Thomas Kinkade FenwayPark painting

Thomas Kinkade FenwayPark painting
Thomas Kinkade Evening on the Avenue painting
slip down into the stomach with the hay. "In this little room the windows are forgotten," said he, "and no sun shines in, neither will a candle be brought."
His quarters were especially unpleasing to him, and the worst was that more and more hay was always coming in by the door, and the space grew less and less. When at length in his anguish, he cried as loud as he could, "Bring me no more fodder, bring me no more fodder!"
The maid was just milking the cow, and when she heard some one speaking, and saw no one, and perceived that it was the same voice that she had heard in the night, she was so terrified that she slipped off her stool, and spilt the milk.
She ran in great haste to her master, and said, "Oh heavens, pastor, the cow has been speaking."
"You are mad," replied the pastor, but he went himself to the byre to see what was there. Hardly, however had he set his foot inside when Tom Thumb again cried, "Bring me no more fodder, bring me no more fodder!"
Then the pastor himself was alarmed, and thought that an evil spirit had gone into the cow, and ordered her to

Thomas Kinkade A New Day Dawning painting

Thomas Kinkade A New Day Dawning painting
Thomas Kinkade A Holiday Gathering painting
the corner where it lay, and stroked its back. Then she went quite silently out of the door again. The next morning the nurse asked the guards whether anyone had come into the palace during the night, but they answered, "No, we have seen no one." She came thus many nights and never spoke a word. The nurse always saw her, but she did not dare to tell anyone about it.
When some time had passed in this manner, the queen began to speak in the night, and said,
"How fares my child,How fares my roe?Twice shall I come,Then never more."
The nurse did not answer, but when the queen had gone again, went to the king and told him all. The king said, "Ah, God. What is this? To-morrow night I will watch by the child." In the evening he went into the nursery, and at midnight the queen again appeared and said,
"How fares my child,How fares my roe?Once will I come,Then never more."

canvas painting

canvas painting
on the preceding day. And when Cinderella appeared at the wedding in this dress, every one was astonished at her beauty. The king's son had waited until she came, and instantly took her by the hand and danced with no one but her. When others came and invited her, he said, "This is my partner." When evening came she wished to leave, and the king's son followed her and wanted to see into which house she went. But she sprang away from him, and into the garden behind the house. Therein stood a beautiful tall tree on which hung the most magnificent pears. She clambered so nimbly between the branches like a squirrel that the king's son did not know where she was gone. He waited until her father came, and said to him, "The unknown maiden has escaped from me, and I believe she has climbed up the pear-tree." The father thought, "Can it be Cinderella." And had an axe brought and cut the tree down, but no one was on it. And when they got into the kitchen, Cinderella lay there among the ashes, as usual, for she had jumped down on the other side of the tree, had taken the beautiful dress to the bird on the little hazel-tree, and put on her grey gown.
On the third day, when the parents and sisters had gone away, Cinderella went once more to her mother's grave and said to the little tree,
"Shiver and quiver, my little tree,

John Singleton Copley paintings

John Singleton Copley paintings
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida paintings
were my warders just now, I learn that I am a prisoner, and, if I judge aright of the loud, hoarse voice which even now despatched them hence on some military duty, I am in the castle of Front-de-Bœuf.—If so, how will this end, or how can I protect Rowena and my father?”
“He names not the Jew or Jewess,” said Rebecca internally; “yet what is our portion in him, and how justly am I punished by Heaven for letting my thoughts dwell upon him!” She hastened after this brief self-accusation to give Ivanhoe what information she could; but it amounted only to this, that the Templar Bois-Guilbert, and the Baron Front-de-Bœuf, were commanders within the castle; that it was beleaguered from without, but by whom she knew not. She added, that there was a Christian priest within the castle who might be possessed of more information.
“A Christian priest!” said the knight joyfully; “fetch him hither, Rebecca, if thou canst—say a sick man desires his ghostly counsel—say what thou wilt, but bring him—something I must do or attempt, but how can I determine until I know how matters stand without?”

Il'ya Repin paintings

Il'ya Repin paintings
Igor V.Babailov paintings
heard save from the tongues of the wretched and degraded serfs on whom the proud Normans impose the meanest drudgery of this dwelling. Thou art a Saxon, father—a Saxon, and, save as thou art a servant of God, a freeman. Thine accents are sweet in mine ear.”
“Do not Saxon priests visit this castle, then?” replied Cedric; “it were, methinks, their duty to comfort the outcast and oppressed children of the soil.”
“They come not—or if they come, they better love to revel at the boards of their conquerors,” answered Urfried, “than to hear the groans of their countrymen—so, at least, report speaks of them—of myself I can say little. This castle, for ten years, has opened to no priest save the debauched Norman chaplain who partook the nightly revels of Front-de-Bœuf, and he has been long gone to render an account of his stewardship.—But thou art a Saxon—a Saxon priest, and I have one question to ask of thee.”

Ford Madox Brown paintings

Ford Madox Brown paintings
Federico Andreotti paintings
would have afforded a study for Rembrandt, had that celebrated painter existed at the period. The Jew remained, without altering his position, for nearlythree hours, at the expiry of which steps were heard on the dungeon stair. The bolts screamed as they were withdrawn—the hinges creaked as the wicket opened, and Reginald Front- de-Bœuf, followed by the two Saracen slaves of the Templar, entered the prison.
Front-de-Bœuf, a tall and strong man, whose life had been spent in public war or in private feuds and broils, and who had hesitated at no means of extending his feudal power, had features corresponding to his character, and which strongly expressed the fiercer and more malignant passions of the mind. The scars with which his visage was seamed, would, on features of a different cast, have excited the sympathy and veneration due to the marks of honourable valour; but, in the peculiar case of Front-de- Bœuf, they only added to the ferocity of his countenance, and to the dread which his presence inspired. This formidable baron was clad in a leathern doublet, fitted close to his body, which

Dirck Bouts paintings

Dirck Bouts paintings
Dante Gabriel Rossetti paintings
Joy to the fair!—thy knight behold,Return’d from yonder land of gold;No wealth he brings, nor wealth can need,Save his good arms and battle-steed;His spurs, to dash against a foe,His lance and sword to lay him low;Such all the trophies of his toil,Such—and the hope of Tekla’s smile!
3.“Joy to the fair! whose constant knightHer favour fired to feats of might;Unnoted shall she not remain,Where meet the bright and noble train;Minstrel shall sing and herald tell—‘Mark yonder maid of beauty well,‘Tis she for whose bright eyes were wonThe listed field at Askalon! Away! our journey lies through dell and dingle,Where the blithe fawn trips by its timid mother,Where the broad oak, with intercepting boughs,Chequers the sunbeam in the greensward alley—Up and away!—for lovely paths are theseTo tread, when the glad Sun is on his throne;Less pleasant, and less safe, when Cynthia’s lampWith doubtful glimmer lights the dreary forest. –Ettrick Forest.–

Pierre-Auguste Cot The Storm painting

Pierre-Auguste Cot The Storm painting
Rembrandt The Return of the Prodigal Son painting
Cliff churchyard, and from the commanding eminence watch the wide sweep of sea visible to the north and east, called attention to a sudden show of ‘mares tails’ high in the sky to the northwest. The wind was then blowing from the southwest in the mild degree which in barometrical language is ranked ‘No. 2, light breeze.’
The coastguard on duty at once made report, and one old fisherman,who for more than half a century has kept watch on weather signs from the East Cliff, foretold in an emphatic manner the coming of a sudden storm. The approach of sunset was so very beautiful, so grand in its masses of splendidly coloured clouds, that there was quite an assemblage on the walk along the cliff in the old churchyard to enjoy the beauty.Before the sun dipped below the black mass of Kettleness, standing boldly athwart the western sky, its downward was was marked by myriad clouds of every sunset colour, flame, purple, pink, green, violet, and all the tints of gold, with here and there masses not large, but of seemingly absolute blackness, in all sorts of shapes, as well outlined as colossal silhouettes. The experience was not lost on the painters, and doubtless some of the sketches of the ‘Prelude to the Great Storm’ will grace the R. A and R. I. walls in May next.

Steve Hanks Casting Her Shadows painting

Steve Hanks Casting Her Shadows painting
Jacques-Louis David Napoleon at the St. Bernard Pass painting
He calculated a minute, and then said, “The first should be June 12,the second June 19,and the third June 29.”
I know now the span of my life. God help me!
28 May.--There is a chance of escape, or at any rate of being able to send word home. A band of Szgany have come to the castle, and are encamped in the courtyard. These are gipsies. I have notes of them in my book. They are peculiar to this part of the world, though allied to the ordinary gipsies all the world over. There are thousands of them in Hungary and Transylvania, who are almost outside all law. They attach themselves as a rule to some great noble or boyar, and call themselves by his name. They are fearless and without religion, save superstition, and they talk only their own varieties of the Romany tongue.
I shall write some letters home, and shall try to get them to have them posted. I have already spoken to them through my window to begin

Rudolf Ernst paintings

Rudolf Ernst paintings
Robert Campin paintings
She listened; she heard nothing.
She had only enemies around her.
“Where am I to die?” she asked.
“On the other bank,” replied the executioner.
Then he made her enter the boat,
The boat moved off toward the left bank of the Lys, bearing the guilty woman and the executioner. All the others remained on the right bank, where they had fallen on their knees.
The boat glided along the ferry-rope under the gleam of a pale cloud which hung over the water at the moment.
It was seen reaching the opposite bank; the figures were outlined in black against the red-tinted horizon.Milady during the passage had contrived to untie the cord which fastened her feet; on reaching the bank, she jumped lightly on shore and took to flight.
But the soil was moist. When she reached the top of the bank she slipped and fell on her knees.

Edwin Austin Abbey paintings

Edwin Austin Abbey paintings
Edward Hopper paintings
Am I, then, to remain here eternally?” demanded milady in some terror.
“Yes, at present,” continued Lord Winter, “you will remain in this castle. The walls of it are thick, the doors strong, and the bars solid. Moreover, your window opens immediately over the sea. The men of my crew, who are devoted to me for life and death, mount guard around this apartment, and watch all the passages leading to the castle yard. The officer who commands alone here in my absence you have seen, and therefore already know him. As you must have observed, he knows how to obey orders, for I am sure you did not come from Portsmouth here without trying to make him speak. What do you say to that? Could a statue of marble have been more impassive and more mute? You have already

Martin Johnson Heade paintings

Martin Johnson Heade paintings
Nancy O'Toole paintings
The evening so impatiently awaited by D’Artagnan at length arrived. D’Artagnan, as usual, presented himself about nine o’clock at milady’s house. He found her in a charming humour. Never had she received him so kindly. Our Gascon saw at the first glance that his note had been delivered and was doing its work.
Kitty entered, bringing some sherbet. Her mistress was very pleasant to her, and greeted her with her most gracious smile.
At ten o’clock milady began to appear uneasy. D’Artagnan understood what it meant. She looked at the clock, got up, sat down again, and smiled at D’Artagnan as much as to say, “You are doubtless very likeable, but you would be charming if you would go away.”
D’Artagnan rose and took his hat; milady gave him her hand to kiss. The young man felt that she pressed his hand, and he understood that she did so, not out of coquetry, but from a feeling of gratitude at his departure.

Claude Monet paintings

Claude Monet paintings
Charles Chaplin paintings
As they rode along the duke learned from D’Artagnan, not all that had passed, but all that D’Artagnan himself knew. By adding what he got from the young man to his own recollections, he was enabled to form a pretty exact idea of a condition of things the seriousness of which the queen’s letter, short and vague as it was, conveyed to him quite clearly.
The horses went like the wind, and they were soon at the gates of London.
On entering the court of his palace Buckingham sprang from his horse, and without caring what would become of him, threw the bridle on his neck and sprang toward the staircase.
The duke walked so fast that D’Artagnan had some trouble in keeping up with him. He passed through several apartments furnished with an

George Frederick Watts Watts Hope painting

George Frederick Watts Watts Hope painting
Fabian Perez the face of tango ii painting
despite the three musketeers?faults of melancholy, pride and religious hypocrisy respectively. We learn of the rivalry between the king, Louis XIII and Cardinal Richelieu - the strongest man in the kingdom. The story follows the four friends?heroism even in saving an Englishman (Buckingham) and acting valiantly at every opportunity until we learn whether or not D扐rtagnan will become a true musketeer.On the first Monday of the month of April, 1625, the bourg of Meung, in which the author of the Romance of the Rose was born, appeared to be in as perfect a state of revolution as if the Huguenots had just made a second Rochelle of it. Many citizens, seeing the women flying towards the High Street, leaving their children crying at the open doors, hastened to don the cuirass, and, supporting their somewhat uncertain courage with a musket or a partizan, directed their steps towards the hostelry of the Franc Meunier, before which was gathered, increasing every minute, a compact group, vociferous and full of curiosity.

Francisco de Goya Nude Maja painting

Francisco de Goya Nude Maja painting
childe hassam Geraniums painting
"Elementary," said he. It is one of those instances where the reasoner can produce an effect which seems remarkable to his neighbour, because the latter has missed the one little point which is the basis of the deduction. The same may be said, my dear fellow, for the effect of some of these little sketches of yours, which is entirely meretricious, depending as it does upon your retaining in your own hands some factors in the problem which are never imparted to the reader. Now, at present I am in the position of these same readers, for I hold in this hand several threads of one of the strangest cases which ever perplexed a man's brain, and yet I lack the one or two which are needful to complete my theory. But I'll have them, Watson, I'll have them!" His eyes kindled and a slight flush sprang into his thin cheeks. For an instant the veil had lifted upon his keen, intense nature, but for an instant only. When I glanced again his face had resumed that red-Indian composure which had made so many regard him as a machine rather than a man.
"The problem presents features of interest," said he. "I may even say exceptional features of interest. I have already looked into the matter, and have come, as I think, within sight of my solution. If you could accompany me in that last step you might be of considerable service to me."

Andrea Mantegna paintings

Andrea Mantegna paintings
Arthur Hughes paintings
"It is the wooden-legged man."
"Quite so. But there has been someone else -- a very able and efficient ally. Could you scale that wall, Doctor?"
I looked out of the open window. The moon still shone brightiy on that angle of the house. We were a good sixty feet from the ground, and, look where I would, I could see no foothold, nor as much as a crevice in the brickwork.
"It is absolutely impossible," I answered.
"Without aid it is so. But suppose you had a friend up here who lowered you this good stout rope which I see in the corner, securing one end of it to this great hook in the wall. Then, I think, if you were an active man, you might swarm up, wooden leg and all. You would depart, of course, in the same fashion, and your ally would draw up the rope, untie it from the

Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres paintings

Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres paintings
John William Godward paintings
The situation was a curious one. We were driving to an unknown place, on an unknown errand. Yet our invitation was either a complete hoax -- which was an inconceivable hypothesis -- or else we had good reason to think that important issues might hang upon our journey. Miss Morstan's demeanour was as resolute and collected as ever. I endeavoured to cheer and amuse her by reminiscences of my adventures in Afghanistan; but, to tell the truth, I was myself so excited at our situation and so curious as to our destination that my stories were slightly involved. To this day she declares that I told her one moving anecdote as to how a musket looked into my tent at the dead of night, and how I fired a double-barrelled tiger cub at it. At first I had some idea as to the direction in which we were driving; but soon, what with our pace, the fog, and my own limited knowledge of London, I lost my bearings and knew nothing save that we seemed to be going a very long way. Sherlock Holmes was never at fault, however, and he muttered the names as the cab rattled through squares and in and out by tortuous by-streets.

Georgia O'Keeffe paintings

Georgia O'Keeffe paintings
Gustave Clarence Rodolphe Boulanger paintings
I sprang from my chair and limped impatiently about the room with considerable bitterness in my heart.
"This is unworthy of you, Holmes," I said. "I could not have believed that you would have descended to this. You have made inquiries into the history of my unhappy brother, and you now pretend to deduce this knowledge in some fanciful way. You cannot expect me to believe that you have read all this from
-93-his old watch! It is unkind and, to speak plainly, has a touch of charlatanism in it."
"My dear doctor," said he kindly, "pray accept my apologies. Viewing the matter as an abstract problem, I had forgotten how personal and painful a thing it might be to you. I assure you, however, that I never even knew that you had a brother until you handed me the watch."
"Then how in the name of all that is wonderful did you get these facts? They are absolutely correct in every particular."

William Bouguereau The Broken Pitcher painting

William Bouguereau The Broken Pitcher painting
Edgar Degas Star of the Ballet painting
That's but a cavil: he is old, I young.
GREMIO
And may not young men die, as well as old?
BAPTISTA
Well, gentlemen,I am thus resolved: on Sunday next you knowMy daughter Katharina is to be married:Now, on the Sunday following, shall BiancaBe bride to you, if you this assurance;If not, Signior Gremio:And so, I take my leave, and thank you both.
GREMIO
Adieu, good neighbour.
[Exit BAPTISTA]
Now I fear thee not:Sirrah young gamester, your father were a foolTo give thee all, and in his waning ageSet foot under thy table: tut, a toy!An old Italian fox is not so kind, my boy.
[Exit]
TRANIO
A vengeance on your crafty wither'd hide!Yet I have faced it with a card of ten.'Tis in my head to do my master good:I see no reason but supposed LucentioMust get a father, call'd 'supposed Vincentio;'And that's a wonder: fathers commonlyDo get their children; but in this case of wooing,A child shall get a sire, if I fail not of my cunning.
[Exit]

3d art Boundless Love painting

3d art Boundless Love painting
Claude Monet The Water Lily Pond painting
Hortensio, peace! thou know'st not gold's effect:Tell me her father's name and 'tis enough;For I will board her, though she chide as loudAs thunder when the clouds in autumn crack.
HORTENSIO
Her father is Baptista Minola,An affable and courteous gentleman:Her name is Katharina Minola,Renown'd in Padua for her scolding tongue.
PETRUCHIO
I know her father, though I know not her;And he knew my deceased father well.I will not sleep, Hortensio, till I see her;And therefore let me be thus bold with youTo give you over at this first encounter,Unless you will accompany me thither.
GRUMIO
I pray you, sir, let him go while the humour lasts.

Pino Soft Light painting

Pino Soft Light painting
Louis Aston Knight A Bend in the River painting
the sainted Joseph Smith? "Let every maiden of the true faith marry one of the elect; for if she wed a Gentile, she commits a grievous sin." This being so, it is impossible that you, who profess the holy creed, should suffer your daughter to violate it."
John Ferrier made no answer, but he played nervously with his riding-whip.
"Upon this one point your whole faith shall be tested -- so it has been decided in the Sacred Council of Four. The girl is young, and we would not have her wed gray hairs, neither would we deprive her of all choice. We Elders have many heifers, but our children must also be provided. Stangerson has a son, and Drebber has a son, and either of them would gladly welcome your daughter to his house. Let her choose between them. They are young and rich, and of the true faith. What say you to that?"

Nancy O'Toole paintings

Nancy O'Toole paintings
Philip Craig paintings
Wickham was not at all more distressed than herself, but his manners were always so pleasing, that had his character and his marriage been exactly what they ought, his smiles and his easy address, while he claimed their relationship, would have delighted them all. Elizabeth had not before believed him quite equal to such assurance; but she sat down, resolving within herself to draw no limits in future to the impudence of an impudent man. She blushed, and Jane blushed; but the cheeks of the two who caused their confusion suffered no variation of colour.
There was no want of discourse. The bride and her mother could neither of them talk fast enough; and Wickham, who happened to sit near Elizabeth, began enquiring after his acquaintance in that neighbourhood, with a good humoured ease which she felt very unable to equal in her replies. They seemed each of them to have the happiest memories in the world. Nothing of the past was recollected with pain; and Lydia led voluntarily to subjects which her sisters would not have alluded to for the world.

Joan Miro paintings

Joan Miro paintings
Jean-Honore Fragonard paintings
ourselves. They were off Saturday night about twelve, as is conjectured, but were not missed till yesterday morning at eight. The express was sent off directly. My dear Lizzy, they must have passed within ten miles of us. Colonel Forster gives us reason to expect him here soon. Lydia left a few lines for his wife, informing her of their intention. I must conclude, for I cannot be long from my poor mother. I am afraid you will not be able to make it out, but I hardly know what I have written.''
Without allowing herself time for consideration, and scarcely knowing what she felt, Elizabeth, on finishing this letter, instantly seized the other, and opening it with the utmost impatience, read as follows -- it had been written a day later than the conclusion of the first:
``By this time, my dearest sister, you have received my hurried letter; I wish this may be more intelligible, but though not confined for time, my head is so bewildered that I cannot answer for being coherent. Dearest Lizzy, I hardly know what I would write, but I have bad news for you, and it

Nude Oil Paintings

Nude Oil Paintings
dropship oil paintings
Oh! your father of course may spare you, if your mother can. -- Daughters are never of so much consequence to a father. And if you will stay another month complete, it will be in my power to take one of you as far as London, for I am going there early in June, for a week; and as Dawson does not object to the Barouche box, there will be very good room for one of you -- and indeed, if the weather should happen to be cool, I should not object to taking you both, as you are neither of you large.''
``You are all kindness, Madam; but I believe we must abide by our original plan.''
Lady Catherine seemed resigned.
``Mrs. Collins, you must send a servant with them. You know I always speak my mind, and I cannot bear the idea of two young women travelling post by themselves. It is highly improper. You must contrive to send somebody. I have the greatest dislike in the world to that sort of thing. --

Louise Abbema paintings

Louise Abbema paintings
Leonardo da Vinci paintings
ELIZABETH was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to Jane, while Mrs. Collins and Maria were gone on business into the village, when she was startled by a ring at the door, the certain signal of a visitor. As she had heard no carriage, she thought it not unlikely to be Lady Catherine, and under that apprehension was putting away her half-finished letter that she might escape all impertinent questions, when the door opened, and to her very great surprise, Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy only, entered the room.
He seemed astonished too on finding her alone, and apologised for his intrusion by letting her know that he had understood all the ladies to be within.
They then sat down, and when her enquiries after Rosings were made, seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was absolutely necessary, therefore, to think of something, and in this emergency recollecting when she had seen him last in Hertfordshire, and feeling curious to know what he would say on the subject of their hasty departure, she observed,

William Bouguereau Evening Mood painting

William Bouguereau Evening Mood painting
Claude Monet Water Lily Pond painting
much trouble, and was sure Jane would have caught cold again. -- But their father, though very laconic in his expressions of pleasure, was really glad to see them; he had felt their importance in the family circle. The evening conversation, when they were all assembled, had lost much of its animation, and almost all its sense, by the absence of Jane and Elizabeth.
They found Mary, as usual, deep in the study of thorough bass and human nature; and had some new extracts to admire, and some new observations of thread-bare morality to listen to. Catherine and Lydia had information for them of a different sort. Much had been done and much had been said in the regiment since the preceding Wednesday; several of the officers had dined lately with their uncle, a private had been flogged, and it had actually been hinted that Colonel Forster was going to be married.Elizabeth was positively resolved -- nor did she much expect it would be asked; and fearful, on the contrary, as being considered as intruding themselves

contemporary abstract painting

contemporary abstract painting
Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it that he agreed with Mr. Morris immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the house by the end of next week.''
``What is his name?''
``Bingley.''
``Is he married or single?''
``Oh! single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!''
``How so? how can it affect them?''
``My dear Mr. Bennet,'' replied his wife, ``how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them.''
``Is that his design in settling here?''

Louis Aston Knight A Sunny Morning at Beaumont-Le Roger painting

Louis Aston Knight A Sunny Morning at Beaumont-Le Roger painting
Dante Gabriel Rossetti A Vision of Fiammetta painting
May now perchance both quake and tremble here,When lion rough in wildest rage doth roar.Then know that I, one Snug the joiner, amA lion-fell, nor else no lion's dam;For, if I should as lion come in strifeInto this place, 'twere pity on my life.
THESEUS
A very gentle beast, of a good conscience.
DEMETRIUS
The very best at a beast, my lord, that e'er I saw.
LYSANDER
This lion is a very fox for his valour.
THESEUS
True; and a goose for his discretion.
DEMETRIUS
Not so, my lord; for his valour cannot carry hisdiscretion; and the fox carries the goose.
THESEUS
His discretion, I am sure, cannot carry his valour;for the goose carries not the fox. It is well:leave it to his discretion, and let us listen to the moon.

Claude Monet Irises in Monets Garden painting

Claude Monet Irises in Monets Garden painting
William Merritt Chase Chase Summertime painting
would I had your bond, for I perceiveA weak bond holds you: I'll not trust your word.
LYSANDER
What, should I hurt her, strike her, kill her dead?Although I hate her, I'll not harm her so.
HERMIA
What, can you do me greater harm than hate?Hate me! wherefore? O me! what news, my love!Am not I Hermia? are not you Lysander?I am as fair now as I was erewhile.Since night you loved me; yet since night you leftme:Why, then you left me -- O, the gods forbid! -- In earnest, shall I say?
LYSANDER
Ay, by my life;And never did desire to see thee more.Therefore be out of hope, of question, of doubt;Be certain, nothing truer; 'tis no jestThat I do hate thee and love Helena.
HERMIA
O me! you juggler! you canker-blossom!You thief of love! what, have you come by nightAnd stolen my love's heart from him?

Dancer dance series painting

Dancer dance series painting
Bierstadt Among the Sierra Nevada Mountains California painting
tones. It was evident to me that she was saying what was false. I said nothing in reply, but turned my face to the wall, sick at heart, with my mind filled with a thousand venomous doubts and suspicions. What was it that my wife was concealing from me? Where had she been during that strange expedition? I felt that I should have no peace until I knew, and yet I shrank from asking her again after once she had told me what was false. All the rest of the night I tossed and tumbled, framing theory after theory, each more unlikely than the last.
"I should have gone to the City that day, but I was too disturbed in my mind to be able to pay attention to business matters. My wife seemed to be as upset as myself, and I could see from the little questioning glances which she kept shooting at me that she understood that I disbelieved her statement, and that she was at her wit's end what to do. We hardly exchanged a word during breakfast, and immediately afterwards I went out for a walk that I might think the matter out in the fresh morning air.
"I went as far as the Crystal Palace, spent an hour in the grounds, and was back in Norbury by one o'clock. It happened that my way took me past the cottage, and I stopped for

Pino day dream painting

Pino day dream painting
Atroshenko Intimate Thoughts painting
Tarry a little; there is something else.This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood;The words expressly are 'a pound of flesh:'Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh;But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shedOne drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goodsAre, by the laws of Venice, confiscateUnto the state of Venice.
GRATIANO
O upright judge! Mark, Jew: O learned judge!
SHYLOCK
Is that the law?
PORTIA
Thyself shalt see the act:For, as thou urgest justice, be assuredThou shalt have justice, more than thou desirest.
GRATIANO
O learned judge! Mark, Jew: a learned judge!
SHYLOCK
I take this offer, then; pay the bond thriceAnd let the Christian go.
BASSANIO
Here is the money.
PORTIA

Volegov Yellow Roses painting

Volegov Yellow Roses painting
Atroshenko The Passion of Music painting
Bring us the letter; call the messenger.
BASSANIO
Good cheer, Antonio! What, man, courage yet!The Jew shall have my flesh, blood, bones and all,Ere thou shalt lose for me one drop of blood.
ANTONIO
I am a tainted wether of the flock,Meetest for death: the weakest kind of fruitDrops earliest to the ground; and so let meYou cannot better be employ'd, Bassanio,Than to live still and write mine epitaph.
[Enter NERISSA, dressed like a lawyer's clerk]
DUKE
Came you from Padua, from Bellario?
NERISSA
From both, my lord. Bellario greets your grace.
[Presenting a letter]
BASSANIO
Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly?
SHYLOCK
To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there.
GRATIANO
Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew,Thou makest thy knife keen; but no metal can,No, not the hangman's axe, bear half the keennessOf thy sharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee?

Mediterranean paintings

Mediterranean paintings
Oil Painting Gallery
Alfred Gockel paintings
Alexei Alexeivich Harlamoff paintings
The ordinary stiff dining chairs had been discarded for the occasion and replaced by the most commodious and luxurious which could be collected throughout the house. Mademoiselle Reisz, being exceedingly diminutive, was elevated upon cushions, as small children are sometimes hoisted at table upon bulky volumes.
"Something new, Edna?" exclaimed Miss Mayblunt, with lorgnette directed toward a magnificent cluster of diamonds that sparkled, that almost sputtered, in Edna's hair, just over the center of her forehead.
"Quite new; 'brand' new, in fact; a pres
-228-ent from my husband. It arrived this morning from New York. I may as well admit that this is my birthday, and that I am twenty-nine. In good time I expect you to drink my health. Meanwhile, I shall ask you to begin with this cocktail, composed -- would you say 'composed?'" with an appeal to Miss Mayblunt -- "composed by my father in honor of Sister Janet's wedding."
Before each guest stood a tiny glass that looked and sparkled like a garnet gem.

Oil Painting Gallery

Oil Painting Gallery
Alfred Gockel paintings
Alexei Alexeivich Harlamoff paintings
Aubrey Beardsley paintings
The sun was low in the west, and the breeze soft and languorous that came up from the south, charged with the seductive odor of the sea. Children freshly befurbelowed, were gathering for their games under the oaks. Their voices were high and penetrating.
Madame Ratignolle folded her sewing, placing thimble, scissors, and thread all neatly together in the roll, which she pinned securely. She complained of faintness. Mrs. Pontellier flew for the cologne water and a fan. She bathed Madame Ratignolle's face with cologne, while Robert plied the fan with unnecessary vigor.
The spell was soon over, and Mrs. Pontellier could not help wondering if there were not a little imagination responsible for its
-31-origin, for the rose tint had never faded from her friend's face.
She stood watching the fair woman walk down the long line of galleries with the grace and majesty which queens are sometimes supposed to possess. Her little ones ran to meet her

Old Master Oil Paintings

Old Master Oil Paintings
Nude Oil Paintings
dropship oil paintings
Mediterranean paintings
picture completed bore no resemblance to Madame Ratignolle. She was greatly disappointed to find that it did not look like her. But it was a fair enough piece of work, and in many respects satisfying.
Mrs. Pontellier evidently did not think so. After surveying the sketch critically she drew a broad smudge of paint across its surface, and crumpled the paper between her hands.
The youngsters came tumbling up the steps, the quadroon following at the respectful distance which they required her to observe. Mrs. Pontellier made them carry her paints and things into the house. She sought to detain them for a little
-30-talk and some pleasantry. But they were greatly in earnest. They had only come to investigate the contents of the bonbon box. They accepted without murmuring what she chose to give them, each holding out two chubby hands scoop-like, in the vain hope that they might be filled; and then away they went.

Mary Cassatt paintings

Mary Cassatt paintings
gustav klimt paintings
oil painting reproduction
mark rothko paintings
She had long wished to try herself on Madame Ratignolle. Never had that lady seemed a more tempting subject than at that moment, seated there like some sensuous Madonna, with the gleam of the fading day enriching her splendid color.
Robert crossed over and seated himself upon the step below Mrs. Pontellier, that he might watch her work. She handled her brushes with a certain ease and freedom which came, not from long and close acquaintance with them, but from a natural aptitude. Robert followed her work with close attention, giving forth little ejaculatory expressions of appreciation in French, which he addressed to Madame Ratignolle.
"Mais ce n'est pas mal! Elle s'y connait, elle a de la force, oui."
-29-
During his oblivious attention he once quietly rested his head against Mrs. Pontellier's arm. As gently she repulsed him. Once again he repeated the offense. She could not but believe it to be thoughtlessness on his part; yet that was no reason she should submit to it. She did not remonstrate, except again to repulse him quietly but firmly. He offered no apology. The

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Dame. There was something remarkable in all that physical force, so extraordinarily developed in Quasimodo, being placed by him blindly at the disposal of another. In it there was doubtless much of filial devotion, of the attachment of the servant; but there was also the fascination exercised by one mind over another; it was a poor, feeble, awkward organism standing with bent head and supplicating eyes in the presence of a lofty, penetrating, and commanding intellect. Finally, and before all things, it was gratitude—gratitude pushed to such extreme limits that we should be at a loss for a comparison. That virtue is not one of those of which the brightest examples are to be found in man. Let us then say that Quasimodo loved the Archdeacon as never dog, never horse, never elephant loved his masterfrom the children and the dogs that ran yelping after him. Claude Frollo had taught him to speak, to read, to write. Finally, it was Claude Frollo who

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clouded and severe, although his speech was habitually brief, harsh, imperious, never for one single moment did that gratitude falter. In Quasimodo the Archdeacon possessed the most submissive of slaves, the most obedient of servants, the most vigilant of watch-dogs. When the poor bell-ringer became deaf, between him and Claude Frollo there had been established a mysterious language of signs, intelligible to them alone. In this way, then, the Archdeacon was the sole human being with whom Quasimodo had preserved a communication. There were but two things in this world with which he had any connection: Claude Frollo and the Cathedral.
The empire of the Archdeacon over the bell-ringer, and the bell-ringer’s attachment to the Archdeacon, were absolutely unprecedented. A sign from Claude, or the idea that it would give him a moment’s pleasure, and Quasimodo would have cheerfully cast himself from the top of Notre-

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There was, however, one human being whom Quasimodo excepted from the malice and hatred he felt for the rest of mankind, and whom he loved as much, if not more, than his Cathedral: and that was Claude Frollo.
The case was simple enough. Claude Frollo had rescued him, had adopted him, fed him, brought him up. When he was little, it was between Claude Frollo’s knees that he sought refuge from the children and the dogs that ran yelping after him. Claude Frollo had taught him to speak, to read, to write. Finally, it was Claude Frollo who made him bellringer of Notre-Dame; and to give the great bell in marriage to Quasimodo was giving Juliet to Romeo.
And in return, Quasimodo’s gratitude was deep, passionate, and boundless; and although the countenance of his adopted father was often

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Rembrandt The Return of the Prodigal Son painting afforded by the uneven surface of the sculpture. The towers, over whose surface he might often be seen creeping like a lizard up a perpendicular wall—those two giants, so lofty, so grim, so dangerous—had for him no terrors, no threats of vertigo or falls from giddy heights; to see them so gentle between his hands, so easy to scale, you would have said that he had tamed them. By dint of leaping and climbing, of sportively swinging himself across the abysses of the gigantic Cathedral, he had become in some sort both monkey and chamois, or like the Calabrian child that swims before it can run, whose first play-fellow is the sea.
Moreover, not only his body seemed to have fashioned itself after the Cathedral, but his mind also. In what condition was this soul of his? What impressions had it received, what form had it adopted behind that close-drawn veil, under the influence of that ungentle life, it would be hard to say. Quasimodo had been born halt, humpbacked, half-blind. With infinite troubled and unwearied patience Claude Frollo had succeeded in teaching him to speak. But a fatality seemed to pursue the poor foundling. When, at the age of fourteen, he became a bell-ringer at Notre-Dame, a fresh infirmity descended on him to

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fitted, so to speak, into the retreating angles of the edifice till he seemed not its inhabitant, but its natural tenant. He might almost be said to have taken on its shape, as the snail does that of its shell. It was his dwelling-place, his strong-hold, his husk. There existed between him and the ancient church so profound an instinctive sympathy, so many material affinities, that, in a way, he adhered to it as a tortoise to his shell. The hoary Cathedral was his carapace.
Needless to say, the reader must not accept literally the similes we are forced to employ in order to express this singular union—symmetrical, direct, consubstantial almost—between a human being and an edifice. Nor is it necessary to describe how minutely familiar he had become with every part of the Cathedral during so long and so absolute an intimacy. This was his own peculiar dwelling-place—no depths in it to which Quasimodo had not penetrated, no heights which he had not scaled. Many a time had he crawled up the sheer face of it with no aid but that

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Certain it is that there was a sort of mysterious and pre-existent harmony between this being and this edifice. When, as a quite young child, he would drag himself about with many clumsy wrigglings and jerks in the gloom of its arches, he seemed, with his human face and beast-like limbs, the natural reptile of that dark and humid stone floor, on which the shadows of the Roman capitals fell in so many fantastic shapes.
And later, the first time he clutched mechanically at the bell-rope in the tower, clung to it and set the bell in motion, the effect to Claude, his adopted father, was that of a child whose tongue is loosened and begins to talk.
Thus, as his being unfolded itself gradually under the brooding spirit of the Cathedral; as he lived in it, slept in it, rarely went outside its walls, subject every moment to its mysterious influence, he came at last to resemble it, to blend with it and form an integral part of it. His salient angles

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Now, by 1482, Quasimodo had come to man’s estate, and had been for several years bell-ringer at Notre- Dame, by the grace of his adopted father, Claude Frollo—who had become archdeacon of Josas, by the grace of his liege lord, Louis de Beaumont—who, on the death of Guillaume Chartier in 1472, had become Bishop of Paris, by the grace of his patron, Olivier le Daim, barber to Louis XI, King by the grace of God.
Quasimodo then was bell-ringer of Notre-Dame.
As time went on a certain indescribable bond of intimacy had formed between the bell-ringer and the church. Separated forever from the world by the double fatality of his unknown birth and his actual deformity, imprisoned since his childhood within those two impassable barriers, theunfortunate creature had grown accustomed to taking note of nothing outside the sacred walls which had afforded him a refuge within their shade. Notre-Dame had been to him, as he grew up, successively the egg, the nest, his home, his country, the universe.

Cot Le Printemps Painting

Le Printemps Painting
This is one of the most famous works by Pierre Auguste Cot,who was a French painter of the Academic Classicism school.

Le Printemps is also called as Spring or springtime.
Le Printemps is created in 1873, and Day of the Dead, Appleton Museum of Art in Ocala, Florida.

If you are interested in this painting,and want to talk about me with it,please message me.cheers.
Below it is a webpage to see the original works of Cot Le printemps Painting.