Daphne: An Autumn Pastoral

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1904 - 167 pages
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Page 125 - Pisquetomen stretched out his arms, and said, " Now, Brother, I am glad I have got you in my arms, I will not let you go...
Page 108 - Hades, no brother's life could ever bloom for me again. Such was the law whereby I held thee first in honour; but Creon deemed me guilty of error therein, and of outrage, ah brother mine! And now he leads me thus, a captive in his hands; no bridal bed, no bridal song hath been mine, no joy of marriage, no portion in the nurture of children; but thus, forlorn of friends, unhappy one, I go living to the vaults of death.
Page 108 - In the name of our fathers' gods, can ye not wait till I am gone — must ye taunt me to my face, O my city, and ye, her wealthy sons? Ah, fount of Dirce, and thou holy ground of Thebe whose chariots are many; ye, at least, will bear me witness, in what sort, unwept of friends, and by what laws I pass to the rock-closed prison of my strange tomb, ah me unhappy! who have no home on the earth or in the shades, no home with the living or with the dead.
Page 158 - Madonna threw my roses away," she thought, coming back with slow feet to the arbor, and realizing for the first time since she had reached the Villa Accolanti that she was alone, and very far away from home. CHAPTER XVII SAN PIETRO and Bertuccio were waiting at the doorway, both blinking sleepily in the morning air. At San Pietro's right side hung a tiny pannier, covered by a fringed white napkin, above which lay a small flask decorated with corn husk and gay yarn, where red wine sparkled like rubies...
Page 66 - Her thoughts flamed up within herwith sudden anger at herself. This vivid joy in the encompassing beauty had but one meaning : it was her sense of the glad presence of this new creature, man or god, who seemed continually with her, were he near or far. " I 'm as foolish as a sixteen-year-old girl," she murmured, fingering the grapes in the basket with their setting of green leaves, " and yet, and yet he is n'ta man, really ; he is only a state of mind...
Page 3 - DAPHNE AN AUTUMN PASTORAL CHAPTER I "HER Excellency, — will she have the politeness," said Daphne slowly, reading with some difficulty from a tiny Italian-English phrasebook, ' ' the politeness to " — She stopped helpless. Old Giacomo gazed at her with questioning eyes. The girl turned the pages swiftly and chose another phrase. " I go," she announced, "I go to make a walk.
Page 127 - Loving with more than human love, I will not be denied! " She opened her eyes and watched him : the whole, firmly-knit frame in the brown golf-suit was quivering. "It has never turned out well," she said lightly, " when the sons of the gods married with the daughters of men." Perhaps he would have rebuked her for the jest, but he saw her face. "I offer you all that man or god can offer," he said, standing before her.
Page 61 - Dresses make themselves, boots repair themselves, food eats itself. There 's just one idiom, si fa," — "What? " asked Assunta. "Reflections," answered the girl, smiling down on her. ''Assunta, may I go and help pick grapes ? " "Ma che!" screamed the peasant woman, losing her balance in her sudden emotion and going down on her knees in the loosened soil. "The Signorina, the sister of the Contessa, go to pick grapes in the vineyard ? " "Si,
Page 75 - ... Assunta's manipulation of eggs and flour, the long kneading, the rolling out of a thin layer of dough, with the final cutting into thin strips ; "to make Sunday and festal-day macaroni you take all the eggs there are, and mix them up with flour, and do all that to it ; and then you boil it on the stove, and make a sauce for it out of everything there is in the house, bits of tomato, and parsley, and onion, and all kinds of meat. E vero? " ".Sz'," said Assunta, marveling at the patois that the...
Page 82 - That divine whistle, mellow, mocking, irresistible, still was heard when morning lay on the hills. Often, when afternoon had touched all the air to gold, when the shadows of chestnut and cypress and gnarled olive lay long on the grass, other sounds floated down to Daphne, music from some instrument that she did not know. It was no harp, surely, yet certain clear, ringing notes seemed to come from the sweeping of harp strings ; again, it had all the subtle, penetrating melody of the violin.

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