Waverly Novels, Volume 16

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[A. and C.] Black, 1855
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Page 315 - So strange, outrageous, and so variable, As the dog Jew did utter in the streets : ' My daughter ! O my ducats ! O my daughter ! Fled with a Christian ! O my Christian ducats ! Justice ! the law ! my ducats, and my daughter...
Page 209 - Let your guards attend me,' he said, 'if you please; I go but to cut a rod from the next willow-bush.
Page 210 - drew a good bow at the battle of Hastings, and never shot at such a mark in his life — and neither will I. If this yeoman can cleave that rod, I give him the bucklers...
Page 124 - The knights are dust, And their good swords are rust, Their souls are with the saints, we trust.'* Their escutcheons have long mouldered from the walls of their castles.
Page 209 - A child of seven years old,' he said, 'might hit yonder target with a headless shaft; but,' added he, walking deliberately to the other end of the lists, and sticking the willow wand upright in the ground, 'he that hits that rod at fivescore yards, I call him an archer fit to bear both bow and quiver before a king, an it were the stout King Richard himself.
Page 14 - And swine is good Saxon," said the jester; "but how call you the sow when she is flayed, and drawn, and quartered, and hung up by the heels like a traitor?" "Pork," answered the swineherd. "I am very glad every fool knows that...
Page 6 - French was the language of honour, of chivalry, and even of justice, while the far more manly and expressive Anglo-Saxon was abandoned to the use of rustics and hinds, who knew no other. Still, however, the necessary intercourse between the lords of the soil, and those oppressed inferior beings by whom that soil was cultivated, occasioned the gradual formation of a dialect, compounded betwixt the French and the Anglo-Saxon, in...
Page 133 - Templar aimed at the centre of his antagonist's shield, and struck it so fair and forcibly that his spear went to shivers, and the Disinherited Knight reeled in his saddle. On the other hand, that champion had, in the beginning of his career, directed the point of his lance...
Page 137 - And as in beauty she surpass'd the choir, So nobler than the rest was her attire; A crown of ruddy gold enclosed her brow, Plain without pomp, and rich without a show; A branch of Agnus Castus in her hand, She bore aloft her symbol of command.
Page 235 - FAR in a wild, unknown to public view, From youth to age a reverend hermit grew ; The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell, His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well: Remote from man, with God he pass'd the days, Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise.

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