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 voice of the same woman whom he admired in the picture.

It was Anna, who had been concealed by a lattice-work of climbing plants, and who rose to receive her visitor. And in the dusk of the library Levin recognized the original of the portrait, in a simple dark blue gown, not in the same position, not with the same expression, but with the same lofty beauty which had been represented by the artist in the painting. She was less brilliant in the reality, but the living woman had a new attraction which the portrait lacked.

CHAPTER X

advanced to meet him, and did not conceal the pleasure which his visit caused her. With the ease and simplicity which Levin recognized as characteristic of a woman of the best society, she extended to him a small, energetic hand, introduced him to Vorkuyef, and called his attention to a light-complexioned and pretty little girl—her pupil, she said—who was seated with her work near the table.

"I am very, very glad," she repeated; and in these simple words, spoken by her. Levin found an extraordinary significance. "I have known you and liked you for ever so long, both because of your friendship with Stiva and because of your wife. .... I knew her a very short time, but she gave me the impression of a flower, a lovely flower. And to think! she will soon be a mother!"

She talked freely and without haste, occasionally looking from Levin to her brother, and Levin was conscious that the impression which he produced was excellent, and he immediately felt perfectly at his ease with her and on the simplest and most friendly terms, as if he had known her from childhood.

To Oblonsky, who asked if smoking was allowed, she replied:—

"That is why we have taken refuge in Alekseï's study;"

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 and, looking at Levin, instead of asking "Do you smoke?" she held over a tortoise-shell cigar-case to him, and took a cigarette herself.

"How are you to-day?" asked her brother.

"Pretty well; a little nervous, as usual."

"Isn't it extraordinarily good?" said Stepan Arkadyevitch, noticing Levin's admiration of the portrait.

"I never saw a better portrait."

"An extraordinary likeness, is n't it?" added Vorkuyef.

Levin looked from the portrait to the original. Anna's face lighted up with a peculiar glow as she felt conscious of his eyes resting on her. He blushed, and, to conceal his confusion, was just going to ask her when she had seen Darya Aleksandrovna. But at that instant Anna said:—

"Ivan Petrovitch and I were talking just now of Vashchenkof's pictures. Do you know them?"

"Yes; I have seen them," answered Levin.

"But I beg your pardon .... you were just going to ask me something?"

Levin asked whether she had seen Dolly lately.

"She was here yesterday. She was indignant at what happened to Grisha at the gymnasium. It seems his Latin teacher was unfair to him."

"Yes; I saw the pictures. They pleased me very much," said Levin, returning to the topic which they had begun to talk about.

What Levin now said was entirely free from the technical formality with which he had talked in the morning. Every word of the conversation with her seemed to be significant. And pleasant as it was to talk with her, it was still pleasanter to listen to her. Anna talked not only naturally and intelligently, but, though intelligently, still without pretense, not arrogating any great importance to her own thoughts but attributing great importance to what her friends said.

The conversation turned on the new tendencies of art and on some new illustrations to the Bible which a French artist had recently made.

Vorkuyef severely criticized the realism which the

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 artist carried to brutality; Levin remarked that the French had carried conventionality in art to greater lengths than any other people, and that, therefore, they found especial merit in the reaction toward realism. They discovered poetry in the fact that they no longer lied.

Never had Levin said a clever thing which gave him anything like the pleasure that this did. Anna's face grew suddenly bright, as the full force of his remark dawned on her. She laughed.

"I am delighted," she said; "just as you are when you see a very lifelike portrait. What you just said is characteristic of all French art at the present time—painting and even literature: Zola, Daudet. But possibly this is always the way that men form their conceptions from imaginary, conventional figures, but afterward—all the combinaisons made, the imaginary figures weary, and people begin to invent more natural and truthful figures."

"That is perfectly true," said Vorkuyef.

"Have you been to the club?" asked Anna, turning to her brother.

"Yes, yes, here is a genuine woman," said Levin to himself, forgetting himself, and gazing steadily into her handsome, mobile face, which now suddenly changed its expression. Levin did not hear what she was talking about as she bent over toward her brother, but he was struck by the change in her expression. Beautiful as it had been before in repose, it now suddenly assumed a mixed expression of curiosity, wrath, and pride. But this lasted for only one minute. She half closed her eyes, as if she were trying to remember something.

"However, this is interesting to no one," said she, and she addressed the English girl in English. "Please order the tea in the drawing-room."

The girl rose and went out.

"Well, has she passed the examination?" asked Stepan Arkadyevitch.

"Perfectly. She is a very capable girl, and a lovely character."

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 "You will end by loving her better than your own daughter."

"That's just like a man. In love, there is no such a thing as more or less. I love my daughter in one way, and this girl in another."

"I tell Anna Arkadyevna," said Vorkuyef, "that if she would spend a hundredth part of the activity she devotes to this little English girl for the benefit of Russian children, what a service her energy would render. She would accomplish prodigies."

"Now there! What you want, I can't do! Count Alekseï Kirillovitch"—she glanced with an air of timid inquiry at Levin as she pronounced this name, and he involuntarily responded by a look which was encouraging, and full of admiration—"used to encourage me, when we were in the country, to visit the schools. I went a few times. They were very pleasant, but I could n't get interested in this occupation. You talk of energy; but the foundation of energy is love, and love does not come at will. So I love this little English girl, but I really don't know why."

She looked at Levin again; and her smile and her look all told him that she spoke only with the aim of gaining his approval, though sure in advance that they understood each other.

"I agree with you thoroughly," cried he. "You can't put your heart into schools and such things, and I think that from the same reason philanthropic institutions generally give such small results."

She was silent a moment, then she smiled. "Yes, yes," she replied, "I never could. Je n'ai pas le coeur assez large to love a whole asylum of wretched little girls, cela ne ma jamais réussi. Women only do it to win for themselves position sociale. Even now, when I have so much need of occupation," added she with a sad, confiding expression, addressing Levin, though she was speaking to her brother, "even now I cannot." Then, suddenly frowning,—and Levin saw that she frowned because she had begun to speak of herself,—she changed the subject.

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 "I know about you," said she, smiling at Levin; "you have the reputation of being only an indifferent citizen, but I have always defended you as well as I could."

"How have you defended me?"

"That has depended on the attacks. But suppose we have some tea," said she. She rose and took a morocco-bound book which was lying on the table.

"Give it to me, Anna Arkadyevna," said Vorkuyef, pointing to the book, "it is well worth while."

"No; it's all so unfinished!"

"I have told him about it," remarked Stepan Arkadyevitch, indicating Levin.

"You were wrong. My writings are like those little baskets and carvings made by prisoners, which Liza Myertsalova used to sell. .... She managed the prisons for our society," said she, turning to Levin. "Those unfortunates used to do perfect miracles of patience."

Levin was struck by still a new feature in this remarkable, fascinating woman. Besides wit, grace, beauty, she had sincerity. She did not wish to conceal the thorns of her situation. As she said that she sighed, and her face suddenly assumed a stern expression, as if it were changed to stone. With this expression on her face, she was even more beautiful than before. But that expression was new; it was entirely alien to that which a few moments before had seemed to irradiate happiness, and which the artist had managed to reproduce in the portrait. Levin looked once more at the portrait and at the original of it, while Anna took her brother's arm, and a feeling of tenderness and pity came over him, surprising even himself. She let the two gentlemen pass into the parlor, and remained behind to speak to Stiva.

"What is she talking with him about?—the divorce? Vronsky? what he was doing at the club? about me?" thought Levin; and he was so stirred that he heard nothing that Vorkuyef was saying to him about the merits of the story for children which Anna Arkadyevna had written.

During tea, a pleasant conversation full of ideas was

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 carried on. There seemed to be no lack of subjects at any moment; but it was felt that there was time to say all that any one wanted to say, and each was willing to listen when the other talked. And all that was said, not only by Anna herself, but by Vorkuyef and by Stepan Arkadyevitch, had a special significance, thanks to her interested attention and her pertinent remarks; so at least it seemed to Levin.

All the time they were talking Levin studied her, and admired her beauty and the cultivation of her mind, and not less her perfect simplicity and naturalness. He listened and talked, and all the time thought about her and her inner life, and tried to penetrate her feelings; and he, who had formerly criticized her so severely, now by some strange train of thought justified her and pitied her, and confessed to himself the fear that Vronsky did not wholly understand her.

It was more than eleven o'clock when Stepan Arkadyevitch rose to go. Vorkuyef had already left some time before. Levin rose, too, but with regret. He felt as if he had only just come.

"Prashchaïte—farewell," said Anna to him, holding his hand in hers, and looking into his eyes with a fascinating look. "I am glad que la glace est rompue."

She let go his hand, and her eyes twinkled.

"Tell your wife that I love her as I have always done; and, if she cannot forgive me my position, tell her how I hope she may never pardon me; for to pardon, it is necessary to understand what I have suffered; and God preserve her from that!"

"Yes! I will surely tell her," answered Levin, and the color came into his face.

CHAPTER XI

" a wonderful, lovely, and pitiable woman!" thought Levin, as he went out with Stepan Arkadyevitch into the cold night air.

"There! what did I tell you?" demanded Oblon-

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 sky, as he saw that Levin was perfectly overcome. "Wasn't I right?"

"Yes," answered Levin, thoughtfully, "an extraordinary woman! Not only intellectual, but she has a wonderfully warm heart. What a terrible pity it is about her!"

"Now, thank God, all will soon be arranged, I hope. Well, after this, don't form hasty judgments," said Stepan Arkadyevitch, opening his carriage-door. "Proshchaï—farewell; we go different ways."

Levin went home, never ceasing to think about Anna, recaUing the smallest incidents of the evening, bringing back all the charm of her face, and understanding her situation better and better, and, at the same time, feeling the deepest commiseration for her.

When he reached his house, Kuzma told Levin that Katerina Aleksandrovna was well, and that her sisters had but just left her. He handed him at the same time two letters. Levin, as he stood in the vestibule, ran through them at once so as not to be distracted afterward. One was from his superintendent, Sokolof. Sokolof wrote that he had not found a purchaser who would give more than five and a half rubles for the wheat, and that he could not raise the money elsewhere. The other letter was from his sister. She reproached him because her affairs were not yet regulated.

"Well, we'll sell for five rubles and a half if they won't give more," thought he, settling with extraordinary promptness the first question which had been troubling him.

"It is wonderful how the time here is occupied," he said to himself, thinking of the second letter. He felt that he was to blame toward his sister, because he had not yet accomplished what she had asked him to do for her. "To-day I did not get to the court either, but I did not have a moment's time." And, making up his mind that he would surely go the next day, he went to his wife's room. On his way, he cast a quick glance back at his day. There had been nothing except conversa-

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 tions,—conversations in which he had listened, and in which he had taken part. No one of the subjects touched on would have occupied him when in the country, but here they were very interesting. And all the conversations in which he had engaged were good: only in two places they were not absolutely good,—one was his remark about the fish at the club, the other was something intangibly wrong in his feeling of tender pity for Anna.

Levin found his wife sad and absent-minded. The dinner of the three sisters had been merry; but afterward they had waited and waited for him, and the evening had seemed long to them; and now Kitty was alone.

"Well, what have you been doing?" she asked him, looking at him, as she did so, with a suspicious light in her eyes; but she took good care to conceal her intentions, so as not to prevent him from telling her the whole story, and with an encouraging smile she listened as he told her how he had spent the evening.

"Well, I met Vronsky at the club, and I am very glad of it. I felt very much at my ease with him, and enjoyed it. Of course, I shall try to avoid him, but still henceforth I shan't feel that awkwardness in his society." As he said these words, he remembered that in order not to "avoid him," he had immediately gone to Anna's house, and his face grew red. "Here we say the peasantry drink; but I don't know which drink more, the peasantry, or men in society. The peasantry drink on festival days, but...."

Kitty was not interested in the question how much the peasantry drink. She saw her husband's face grow red, and she wanted to know the reason,

"Well, where else did you go?"

"Stiva insisted on my going with him to Anna Arkadyevna's," answered he, blushing more and more, and his doubts as to the propriety of his visit to Anna were decided for him. He now knew that he ought not to have done so.

Kitty's eyes opened wide and flashed lightning at the

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 mention of Anna; but she restrained herself, and, concealing her emotion, she misled him.

She merely said, "Ah!"

"You are not going to be vexed because I went? Stiva begged me to go; and Dolly wanted me to."

"Oh, no!" said she; but in her eyes he saw a look which boded little good.

"She is a very charming woman, who is very much to be pitied, a good woman," continued Levin; and he described the life which Anna led, and gave her message of remembrance to Kitty.

"Yes, of course she is to be pitied," said Kitty, when he had finished. "Whom did you get a letter from?"

He told her, and, misled by her apparent calmness, went to undress.

When he came back, he found Kitty in the same armchair. When he approached, she looked at him, and burst into tears.

"What is it? What's the matter?" he asked, with some annoyance; for he understood the cause of her tears.

"You are in love with that horrid woman. She has bewitched you. I saw it in your eyes. Yes, yes! What will be the end of it? You were at the club; you drank too much; you gambled; and then you went—where! No! this shall not go on. We must leave. I am going home to-morrow!"

It was long before Levin could pacify his wife; and when at last he succeeded, it was only by acknowledging that his feeling of pity for Anna, together with the wine, had clouded his brain, and that he had fallen under her seductive influence, and by promising that he would avoid her. What he acknowledged with more sincerity was the ill effect produced on him by this idle life in Moscow, passed in eating, drinking, and gossiping. They talked till three o'clock in the morning. Only when it was three o'clock were they sufficiently reconciled to go to sleep.

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text: Poems, Chiefly Lyrical/Love

title: Poems, Chiefly Lyrical/Love


text: Poems, Chiefly Lyrical/Love and Death

title: Poems, Chiefly Lyrical/Love and Death


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 CHAPTER XII

having said good-by to her visitors, without sitting down Anna began to walk up and down the full length of her apartments.

Of late she had got into the habit of unconsciously doing all she could to attract young men to her; and so this whole evening she had striven to awaken a feeling of love in Levin. But though she knew that she had succeeded in doing this as far as it was possible with a chaste married man, and though he pleased her very much,—and in spite of the sharply defined dissimilarity between Vronsky and Levin, she as a woman was able to detect the subtile likeness between them which had caused Kitty to be in love with them both,—yet as soon as he had left the room she ceased to think about him.

One thought and one only in various guises followed her:—

"Why, since I have so evidently an attraction for others,—for this married man, who is in love with his wife,—why is he so cold to me? .... Yet not exactly cold; he loves me, I know; but lately something new has come between us. Why has he spent the whole evening away? He told Stiva that he could not leave Yashvin, but had to watch him while he played. Is Yashvin a baby? It must be true; he never tells lies. But there's something else back of it. He is glad of the chance to show me that he has other duties. I know this. I don't object to it, but what need has he to assert it so? He wants to show that his love for me must not interfere with his independence! But the proof is not necessary. I must have his love. He ought to understand the wretchedness of the life I lead here in Moscow. Why am I living? I am not living,—only dragging out life, in hope of a turn in affairs, which never, never comes. And Stiva says that he can't go to Alekseï Aleksandrovitch. And I can't write again. I cannot do anything, I can't begin anything,

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 or make any changes, but only control myself, wait, and invent amusements—this English family, my reading, my writing; but it is all only to deceive myself, like this morphine. He ought to be sorry for me," she said, feeling how the tears of pity at her own lot filled her eyes.

She heard the door-bell Vronsky rang violently; and instantly she wiped away her tears, not only wiped away the tears, but sat down near the lamp with a book, and pretended to be calm. She felt that she must show her dissatisfaction because he had not returned as he had promised, but not to let her grief be seen. She might pity herself, but Vronsky must not be allowed to pity her. She did not want a contest, she blamed him because he wanted to quarrel, but she herself involuntarily took the attitude of an opponent.

"Well! you weren't lonely, were you?" said he, briskly and cheerfully, as he came toward her. "What a terrible passion gambling is."

"No, I was not lonely. I long ago learned not to be lonely. Stiva and Levin have been here to see me."

"Yes, I knew that they intended to come. Well, and how do you like Levin?" he asked, as he sat down near her.

"Very much. They have only just gone. How about Yashvin?"

"He had won seventeen thousand rubles. I got him away, but he escaped from me, and went back again; and now he's losing."

"But why did you abandon him?" said Anna, suddenly raising her eyes to his. The expression of her face was cold and unpleasant. "You told Stiva that you were going to stay, to bring him away. Now you abandon him!"

"In the first place, I did not send any message to you; in the second place, I never tell lies; and chiefly, I wished to stay and I stayed," he answered angrily. "Anna, why, why do you do so?" added he, after a moment's silence, holding out his hand to her, in the hope that she would place hers in it.

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 She was glad of this appeal to her love, but some strange spirit of evil prevented her from yielding.

"Of course you stayed because you wanted to; you always do as you please. But why tell me so? What is the good?" answered she, growing more and more heated. "Who denies that you tell the truth? You wish to justify yourself, do so then!"

Vronsky drew back his hand, and his face became more set than before.

"For you this is a matter of obstinacy," she cried, looking at him fixedly, and suddenly finding the term by which to call the expression of his face which exasperated her—"sheer obstinacy. For you the question is to see whether you will win the victory over me. But the question for me .... "and again the sense of her pitiable lot came over her, and she almost sobbed. "If you knew what it meant for me when I feel, as I do now, that you hate me, ....yes, hate me! If you knew what it meant for me! If you knew how near I am to horrible misfortune at these moments! how I fear.... how I fear for myself,"—and she turned away to hide her sobs.

"But what's all this for?" said Vronsky, alarmed at this despair, and leaning toward Anna to take her hand and kiss it. "Do I seek outside diversion? Don't I avoid the society of women?"

"As if that were all!" said she.

"Well! Tell me what I must do to make you content. I am ready to do anything that you may be happy," said he, moved to see her in such despair. "What would I not do to spare you such grief, Anna!" he said.

"It's nothing, nothing," she replied. "I myself don't know. It's the loneliness: it 's my nerves. .... There, let's not talk about it any more. .... Tell me what happened at the races. Why have n't you told me about it?" she asked, attempting to conceal the pride she felt at her victory, for she knew it rested with her.

Vronsky asked for some supper, and as he was eating described to her the incidents of the races; but

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 from the sound of his voice, and from his glance, that grew colder and colder, she saw that he would not forgive her for the victory, that the sense of obstinacy which she had struggled to overcome was as firm in him as ever. He was colder toward her than before, as if he regretted having yielded to her. And as she remembered the words that won her the victory, especially the words, "How near I am to horrible misfortune, and I fear for myself," she realized that it was a dangerous weapon, and that she must never employ it again. But she felt that along with the love which united them, there stood between them an evil spirit of conflict which she had not the power to drive from his heart, and still less from her own.

CHAPTER XIII

are no imaginable conditions to which a man cannot accustom himself, especially if he sees that all those who surround him are living in the same way.

Three months before Levin would not have believed that he could have slept tranquilly under the conditions in which he found himself at the present time,—that living an aimless, unprofitable life, spending more than his income, getting tipsy,—for he could not call his experience at the club anything else,—his absurd intimacy with a man with whom his wife had once been in love, and his still more absurd visit to a woman whom it was impossible to regard as respectable, and after the fascination which she had exerted over him and the mortification which he had caused his wife—that under all these conditions he could sleep serenely. But under the influence of his weariness, the long hours without a nap, and the wine which he had drunk, he slept soundly and serenely.

At five o'clock the noise of an opening door wakened him. He sat up and looked around; Kitty was not in bed next him. But behind a screen there was a light moving, and he heard her steps.

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 "What's the matter?" he asked, still only half awake. "Kitty, what is it?"

"Nothing," answered she, coming from behind the screen with a candle in her hand, and smiling at him with a peculiarly sweet and significant smile; "I don't feel quite well."

"What! Is this the beginning? Must we send?" exclaimed he in alarm, and he began to dress as quickly as possible.

"No, no," said she, smiling, and holding his hand; "it 's nothing; I did not feel quite well; it's all right now."

Going back to bed, she put out the light, and lay down again, keeping perfectly still, although her very stillness and the way she, as it were, held her breath, were suspicious, and still more so the expression of peculiar tenderness and alertness with which, as she came out from behind the screen, she said to him, "it's nothing"; still, he was so overcome by drowsiness that he immediately went to sleep again.

It was only afterward that he realized the calmness of her spirit, and appreciated all that was passing in her dear, gentle heart as she lay thus motionless near him, awaiting the most solemn moment of a woman's life.

About seven o'clock he was awakened by her hand touching his shoulder and her low whisper. She apparently hesitated between the fear of waking him and the wish to speak to him.

"Kostia, don't be afraid, it's nothing; but I think.... Lizavyeta Petrovna had better be called."

The candle was again lighted. She was sitting on the bed, holding the knitting on which she had been at work during the last few days.

"Please don't be alarmed. I 'm not in the least afraid," said she, seeing her husband's terrified face; and she pressed his hand to her breast, then to her lips.

Levin leaped from his bed, and, unconscious of himself, without taking his eyes off his wife for a moment, hurried on his dressing-gown. It was necessary for him to go, but he could not tear himself away. Dearly

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There are days when all the beauty of the world is dim and strange; when the sunlight about me seems to fall on a land remoter than the poles of the moon. The roses in the garden surprise me, like the monstrous orchids of unknown colour, blossoming in planets beyond Aldebaran. And I am startled by the yellow and purple leaves of October, as if the veil of some tremendous and awful mystery were half-withdrawn for a moment. In such hours as these, O heart of my heart, I fear to touch thee, I avoid thy caresses, dreading that thou wilt vanish as a dream at dawn; or that I shall find thee a phantom, the spectre of one who died and was forgotten many thousand years ago, in a far-off land on which the sun no longer shines.


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 as he loved her face, well as he knew her expression, her eyes, yet never before had he seen her look as she did then. How ugly and horrible did he now seem as he saw her now, and remembered the mortification which he had caused her the evening before! Her flushed face, with the clustering soft curls escaping from under her nightcap, was radiant with joy and resolution.

Natural and simple as Kitty's character in general was, Levin was amazed by what unfolded itself before him now, when suddenly all the curtains were withdrawn, and the very essence of her soul shone in her eyes. And in this simplicity and revelation, she, her very self, whom he loved, was more apparent than ever. She looked at him, and smiled. But suddenly her brows contracted, she lifted her head, and, coming to him, took his hand, and clung to him, sighing painfully. She suffered, and yet she seemed to pity him for her sufferings. At first, as he saw this silent suffering, it seemed to him that he was to blame for it. But in her look there was tenderness which told him that she not only did not blame him, but that she loved him all the more for her suffering.

"If not I, who, then, is to blame for this?" he asked himself. She suffered, and she seemed to take pride in her pain, and to rejoice in it. He saw that in her soul some beautiful transformation was taking place; but what? he could not understand. It was above his comprehension.

"I have sent for mamma. Now go quick, and get Lizavyeta Petrovna.... Kostia.... it 's nothing.... it is all over."

She went to the other side of the room, and rang the bell.

"There, now, please go. Pasha is coming; I want nothing." And Levin, with astonishment, saw her take up her work again.

As he went out of one door, he heard Pasha, the maid, come in at the other. He paused on the threshold and listened as Kitty gave directions for arranging the room, and as she herself began to move the bed.

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Ringed with a bronze horizon, which, at a point immensely remote, seems welded with the blue brilliance of a sky of steel, they oppose the black splendour of their porphyritic forms to the sun's insuperable gaze. Reared in the morning twilight of primeval time, by a race whose towering tombs and cities are one with the dust of their builders in the slow lapse of the desert, they abide to face the terrible latter dawns, that move abroad in a starkness of fire, consuming the veils of night on the vast and Sphinx-like desolations. Level with the light, their tenebrific brows preserve a pride as of Titan kings. In their lidless implacable eyes of staring stone, is the petrified despair of those who have gazed too long on the infinite.

Mute as the mountains from whose iron matrix they were hewn, their mouths have never acknowledged the sovereignty of the suns, that pass in triumphal flame from horizon unto horizon of the prostrate land. Only at eve, when the west is like a brazen furnace, and the far-off mountains smoulder like ruddy gold in the depth of the heated heavens—only at eve, when the east grows infinite and vague, and the shadows of the waste are one with the increasing shadow of night—then, and then only, from the sullen throats of stone, a music rings to the bronze horizon—a strong, a sombre music, strange and sonorous, like the singing of black stars, or a litany of gods that invoke oblivion; a music that thrills the desert to its heart of adamant, and trembles in the granite of forgotten tombs, till the last echoes of its jubilation, terrible as the trumpets of doom, are one with the black silence of infinity.


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 He dressed, and when he had ordered his carriage, since it was too early for izvoshchiks, he flew up to her room again, not on tiptoes, but on wings, as it seemed to him. Two maids were busily engaged in moving something in the room. Kitty was walking up and down, knitting swiftly, slipping the knots, and giving directions.

"I'm going for the doctor immediately. Lizavyeta Petrovna has been sent for, but I will call there. There's nothing more, is there? Oh, yes,—Dolly."

She looked at him, evidently without hearing what he said. "Yes, yes, go," said she, and motioned to him with her hand. He was just passing through the drawing-room, when he heard a groan, pitiful, but instantly suppressed. He stood still, and could not make up his mind.

"It is she," he said to himself; and, putting his hands to his head, he rushed out.

"Lord have mercy on us! pardon us! save us!" he exclaimed; and these words, which suddenly and unexpectedly came to his lips, were not spoken merely by his lips, unbeliever though he was.

Now at this instant, he knew perfectly well that all his doubts and the impossibility which his reason found in belief, had not the slightest influence to prevent him from addressing himself to God. Everything of this sort now vanished like dust from his soul. To whom could he address himself if not to Him in whose hands he felt were held himself, and his soul, and his love?

The horse was not yet ready, but, feeling the special strain of physical powers unemployed, and of the work before him calling for his attention, he started on foot so as not to lose a single instant, and ordered Kuzma to follow him. At the corner of the street he met a night izvoshchik hurrying along. In the little sledge sat Lizavyeta Petrovna, in a velvet cloak, with her head wrapped up in a kerchief. "Thank God!" he murmured, as he saw with joy her pale little face, which had a peculiarly serious, and even stern, expression. Not

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I know a garden of flowers—flowers lovely and multiform as the orchids of far, exotic worlds—as the flowers of manifold petal, whose colours change as if by enchantment in the alternation of the triple suns; flowers like tiger lilies from the garden of Satan; like the paler lilies of paradise, or the amaranths on whose perfect and immortal beauty the seraphim so often ponder; flowers fierce and splendid like the crimson or golden flowers of fire; flowers bright and cold as the crystal flowers of snow; flowers whereof there is no likeness in any world of any sun; which have no symbol in heaven or in hell.

Alas! in the heart of the garden is a tomb—a tomb so trellised and embowered with vine and blosssomblossom [sic], that the sunlight reveals the ghastly gleam of its marble to no careless or incurious scrutiny. But in the night, when all the flowers are still, and their perfumes are faint as the breathing of children in slumber—then, and then only, the serpents bred of corruption crawl from the tomb, and trail the fetor and phosphorescence of their abiding-place from end to end of the garden.


text:
Talk:U.S. Congressional Testimony of Sung-Yoon Lee, Hearing on "North Korea’s Diplomatic Gambit: Will History Repeat Itself?"

This
Is this the same as Index:U.S Congressional Testimony of Sung-Yoon Lee, Hearing on "North Korea’s Diplomatic Gambit- Will History Repeat Itself ? -- Beardo (talk) 10:58, 25 November 2023 (UTC)


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Page:Anna Karenina.djvu/943

 ordering the driver to stop, he ran along with it back to the house.

"Only two hours? not more?" asked Lizavyeta Petrovna. "You may speak to Piotr Dmitritch, but don't hurry him. Yes, please get some opium at the apothecary's."

"Do you think all will go on well?" asked he. "God help us!" he added, as he saw his horse starting from the door; he got into the sledge alongside of Kuzma, and ordered him to hurry to the doctor's.

CHAPTER XIV

doctor was not yet up; and a servant, who was busy cleaning the lamps, announced that his master had gone to bed late, and had given orders not to be waked, but would be up before long.

The lackey was polishing lamp-chimneys and seemed very much absorbed in this occupation. At first this absorption of the lackey in his lamp-chimneys, and his indifference to what was going on at home, made Levin indignant; but on reflection he realized that no one knew anything about it or was obliged to share in his feelings, and that consequently it was incumbent on him to be calm, reasonable, and firm, so as to break down that wall of indifference, and attain his end.

"I must not spoil matters by haste," said Levin to himself, feeling all the time a growing intensity of physical energy and concentration on what was before him.

Now that he knew that the doctor was not up, and had given orders not to be disturbed, Levin thought over several plans which presented themselves to him, and finally decided on the following: to send Kuzma with a note to another doctor, to go himself to the apothecary's for the laudanum, and, if on his return the doctor was not up, then either by bribery or by main force, if the man would not consent, to waken the doctor at any cost.

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It was a windless afternoon of April, beneath skies that were tender as the smile of love, when we went forth, you and I, to seek the fabulous and fortunate realm of Cocaigne. Past leafing oaks with foliage of bronze and chrysolite, through zones of yellow and white and red and purple flowers, like a landscape seen through a prism, we fared with hopeful and tremulous hearts, forgetting all save the dream we had cherished.***At last we came to the lonely woods, the pines with their depth of balmy, cool, compassionate shadow, which are sacred to the genius of that land. There, for the first time I was bold to take your hand in mine, and led you to a slope where the woodland lilies, with petals of white and yellow ivory, gleamed among the fallen needles. As in a dream, I found that my arms were about you, as in a dream I kissed your yielding lips, and the ardent pallor of your cheeks and throat. Motionless, you clung to me, and a flush arose beneath my kisses like a delicate stain, and lingered softly. Your eyes deepened to my gaze like the brown pools of the forest at evening, and far within them, as in immensity itself, trembled and shown the steadfast stars of your love. As a ship that has wandered beneath stormy suns and disastrous moons, but comes at last to the arms of the shielding harbour, my head lay on the gentle heaving of your delicious breast, and I knew that we had found Cocaigne.


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 At the apothecary's, the lean clerk, with the same indifference as the lackey cleaning the lamp-chimneys had shown, put a seal on the powders for the waiting coachman, and refused to deliver the opium. Striving not to get impatient or angry, and mentioning the doctor and midwife by name, and telling what it was needed for, Levin pleaded with him. The clerk asked his employer in German if it should be permitted, and, receiving a favorable reply from behind the screen, he proceeded to get out a bottle and a funnel, and slowly poured the liquid from it into a smaller vial, pasted on a label, sealed it, and in spite of Levin's urgency not to do so, was even going to wrap it up. This Levin could not endure; he resolutely snatched the vial out of the clerk's hands, and rushed through the great glass doors.

The doctor was still asleep; and, this time, the servant was shaking the rugs.

Levin, leisurely getting from his pocket a ten-ruble note, and dwelling on his words, but not wasting time, gave him the money, and explained that Piotr Dmitrievitch—how great and significant now seemed this hitherto unimportant Piotr Dmitrievitch—had promised him to be on hand at any time, so that he would certainly not be angry, and that, therefore, he must instantly awaken him.

The lackey consented, and went up-stairs and showed Levin into the reception-room.

Levin could hear in the next room how the doctor coughed, walked about, washed his face and hands, and made some remark.

Three minutes passed; it seemed to Levin that it was more than an hour. He could no longer contain himself.

"Piotr Dmitrievitch! Piotr Dmitrievitch!" he cried, through the opened door, in a beseeching voice. "For God's sake, forgive me. Let me come in just as you are. It has been more than two hours now."

"I'll be out immediately," replied a voice, and Levin to his surprise knew by the sound of the doctor's voice that he was smiling as he spoke.

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text:
Page:SoK Exploring Current and Future Research Directions on XS-Leaks through an Extended Formal Model.pdf/9

Session 6B: System and Network Security #2 an attack, when the resource is rendered in a new tab (victim window), the attack will not be able to determine whether this caused a resource to be added to the cache, because the attacker’s HTTP cache is isolated from the HTTP cache used by the victim site.

Another isolation defense is based on preventing attackers from retaining references to other windows. This defense can be enabled through the Cross-Origin Opener Policy (COOP), by setting the similarly named response header [29, 61]. At the time of this writing, the header is supported by all major browsers. In essence, when the policy’s header value is set to same-origin, it ensures cross-origin pages do not have a reference to the other window. For example, this prevents the attack that counts the number of frames in a page from accessing the win.frames.length property. Because an attacker page can also include the target resource in an iframe, it is important that this defense is complemented with framing protection.

Finally, to counter attacks that leverage state-changes occurring at the microarchitectural level, or that are related to the process in which web pages are rendered and executed, a new isolation primitive, site isolation, was introduced [34]. In essence, site isolation ensures that documents of different sites are rendered in a separate process. This means that as long as no sensitive cross-site resources are loaded into the renderer, these are protected from attacks such as Spectre. As such, resources that are included directly may still cause $$\mu$$-architectural state-changes.

The third defense strategy that can be used to mitigate XS-Leaks is to ensure that all responses to illicit requests are exactly the same, regardless of the web application state. To accomplish this in all components, the generation of the response should not be based on the web application state. When the two web application states are identical, e.g. because the user’s authentication is not included in the request, all components will remain in their original state. $$u: (\exists {x} \in [i, j]) (s_0 \ne s_1 \land d_0 \ne d_1 \land C^{'}_{x} \cdot \Sigma \ne \emptyset)$$ $$D: (\forall {x} \in [0, n])(s_0 \ne s_1 \land d_0 \ne d_1 \land C^{'}_{x} \cdot \sigma_{s_0} = C^{'}_{x} \cdot \sigma_{s_1} = C_{x} \cdot \sigma_{s_0} )$$ In practice, there exist two defenses that are based on ensuring the responses remain stateless, namely SameSite cookies and Fetch Metadata request headers. When a cookie’s SameSite attribute is set to Lax (the default in Chromium-based browsers [5]), the cookie, and thus the user’s authentication, will not be included in the request [28, 37]. As a result, the server will not be able to authenticate the user and will thus always return a stateless response. Because the SameSite cookie will still be included in navigational GET requests, attacks that rely on opening a new window are still possible.

To give web developers more insights on what caused the browser to send a request, the Fetch Metadata request headers provide information on the context in which a request was made. More specifically, the Sec-Fetch-Site header indicates whether the request was made in a cross-site, same-site or same-origin context, or whether the request was the result of a navigation request. Similarly, the Sec-Fetch-Mode indicates the "mode" in which the request was made: using CORS or not, as the result of a navigation, or for a WebSocket. By combining the different headers and evaluating their values before the request is processed, the server can determine the legitimacy of the request and return a static (stateless) error message when the request is considered illegitimate. A typical and recommended way of applying a policy based on these request headers is via the resource isolation policy (RIP) [67], which only allows same-site requests or GET requests that result from navigations or embedding.

Although many different defenses exist, using one of the three different strategies, it remains to be seen whether these are sufficient. In this section we explore whether it is feasible to provide a complete protection against all possible XS-Leak attacks, including those that have not yet been discovered to date. Furthermore, we discuss directions for future work to explore whether the current set of defenses are sufficient to provide websites with the necessary protections.

As we have constructed an expression that captures the set of possible XS-Leaks each defense protects against, we can simply apply constraint solving to determine whether there exists any set of defenses for which no XS-Leak attack is still possible. Unfortunately, we find that there is no combination of defenses that provides a complete protection against all XS-Leaks, posing an interesting direction for future research. The main culprit for this are attacks where a different window is used as the inclusion method, as there is no defense that can completely protect against these. Although COOP prevents the attacker from reading out any state from the window in which the resource was rendered, any intermediary component group between the victim tab and web server may still exhibit state-changes as a result from rendering the resource (e.g. it is still possible to observe the response generation time). However, it is important to note that although COOP does not provide these complete protections in our model, it does significantly hinder attacks in practice. For each bit of information that the attacker would try to extract, a new window needs to be opened, requiring a user interaction.


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Page:Anna Karenina.djvu/945

 "Just for one little minute."

"I'll be out immediately."

Two minutes more went by, while the doctor was putting on his boots, and another two minutes while he was brushing his hair and putting on his coat.

"Piotr Dmitrievitch," Levin was just saying once more; but at that instant the doctor came in, all ready dressed and with his hair brushed.

"These people have no hearts," thought Levin. "He can brush his hair, while we are dying."

"Good morning!" said the doctor, entering the reception-room serenely, and offering to shake hands. "Don't feel anxious. Well, how is it?"

Levin began at once a long and circumstantial account, filled with a crowd of useless details, and interrupted himself at every moment to urge the doctor to set out.

"Yes, but you must not be anxious. You see you don't know. I really am not needed yet; still I have promised, and I assure you I'll go. But there 's no hurry. Please sit down; won't you have some coffee?"

Levin looked at him, with a questioning look, asking with his eyes if he were not laughing at him; but the doctor was in serious earnest.

"I know, I know," added the physician, smiling; "I myself am a family man, and we husbands cut a sorry figure in such cases. The husband of one of my patients always, on such occasions, goes off to the stable."

"But do you think, Piotr Dmitrievitch,—do you think she'll get on well?"

"All the indications point to a fortunate issue."

"Won't you come at once?" said Levin, looking with angry eyes at the servant who was bringing the coffee.

"Within an hour."

"For God's sake!"

"Well, let me take my coffee."

The doctor proceeded to take his breakfast. Both were silent.

"It seems the Turks are beating. Did you read the

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text:
Page:Anna Karenina.djvu/946

 telegram last evening?" asked the doctor, biting into a roll.

"No; but I'm going," said Levin. "Will you come in a quarter of an hour?"

"Make it a half."

"On your honor?"

When Levin got home, he found the princess at the door, and they went to Kitty's room together. The princess had tears in her eyes, and her hands trembled. When she saw Levin, she threw her arms round him, and kissed him.

"How is it, Lizavyeta Petrovna, dearie," said she, seizing the midwife's hand as she came to meet them with a radiant but solicitous face.

"It is going well," said she. "It would be well for her to lie down. Try to persuade her. She would find it easier."

Ever since Levin, on waking, had understood the situation, he had made up his mind, without indulging in anxious thought, or forebodings, crushing down all his anxieties and feelings, firmly, without worrying his wife, but, on the contrary, calming her and sustaining her courage, that he would endure what was before him. Not allowing himself even to think of what was coming or how it might end, judging by answers to his questions, how long it generally lasted. Levin in his imagination prepared to have patience and hold his heart in his hands for five hours, and this seemed to him within the limit of possibihty. But when he returned after his visit to the doctor's, and found Kitty still suffering, again he cried more and more frequently, "Lord, forgive us, and be merciful!" and he was afraid that he could not endure it, so terrible was it to him; thus an hour went by.

And after this another hour passed, and a second, and a third, and the five which he had set as the very ultimate limit of his endurance; and the situation was still the same, and still he was enduring the suspense, because there was nothing else to do except endure, thinking

title: Page:Anna Karenina.djvu/946


text: A History of the Indian Medical Service, 1600-1913/Chapter 7


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 every moment that he had reached the last limit, and that his heart would burst with his agony. But the minutes still went by, hours and hours, and his feelings of agony and horror kept growing worse and more un endurable. All the ordinary conditions of life, without which it is impossible to take cognizance of anything, ceased to exist for Levin. He lost all consciousness of time. Now the minutes when she called him to her and he held her moist hand, which at one time would press his with extraordinary force, and again push him away, seemed hours; then again the hours would seem to him minutes.

He was surprised when Lizavyeta Petrovna asked for a light, and he learned that it was five o'clock in the evening. If they had told him that it was only ten o'clock in the morning, he would have been just as much surprised. Where the time had gone, what he had done, where he had been, he could not have told. Sometimes he saw Kitty's flushed face, now troubled and piteous, then calm and almost smiling, as she tried to reassure him. Then he saw the princess, flushed with anxiety, her gray curls in disorder, swallowing down her tears and biting her lips to keep from crying. He had also seen Dolly, and the doctor smoking great cigarettes, and Lizavyeta Petrovna, with a calm, serious, but reassuring look, and the old prince, pacing the dining-room with a frowning face. But how they came and went, and where they had been, he could not tell.

The princess had been with the doctor in Kitty's room, then in the library, where a well-set table had appeared; then she disappeared, and Dolly was in her place.

Then Levin remembered that they sent him somewhere; he moved a divan and a table zealously, thinking it was for her sake; and only when it was done did he learn that they were preparing his own bed for the night.

He was sent to the library to ask the doctor something; the doctor replied, and then began to speak of the disorders of the duma, or town-council. Then they sent him to the princess's bedchamber to get a holy image made of silver, with a golden trimming, from

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 there; and, with the aid of an old chambermaid of the princess's, he climbed up to get it from the cabinet; and, in doing so, broke a little lamp, and the old woman consoled him for this accident, and encouraged him about his wife. And he had carried the image to Kitty, and placed it at. her head, carefully arranging it behind her pillow. But where, when, and why all this was done was more than he could tell.

Neither did he comprehend why the old princess took him by the hand, and, looking at him compassionately, begged him to calm himself; or why Dolly tried to persuade him to eat something, and led him from the room; or why even the doctor looked at him gravely and sympathetically, and offered him a pill.

He knew and felt conscious only that what was occurring was like that which had occurred the year before at the hotel of the government city, by the death-bed of his brother Nikolaï. That was grief, this was happiness. But that grief and this happiness were in the same way outside of the ordinary conditions of life; were in this peculiar life, as it were, the loopholes through which appeared something higher. And in exactly the same way, while the hard, painful event was accomplishing before him, in exactly the same way incomprehensible, his soul, at the contemplation of this loftiness, raised itself to a height which he had never before dreamed possible, and whither his reason could not follow.

"Lord, have mercy and aid us," he kept repeating, in spite of his long lack of practice, and yet feeling that he was addressing God with the same simplicity, the same confidence, as in his childhood and early youth. All this time he seemed to be leading two separate existences; one was away from Kitty, with the doctor smoking one fat cigarette after another, and knocking the ashes off against the rim of the unemptied ash-tray; or with Dolly and the old princess, who insisted on talking about dinner, politics, or the illness of Marya Petrovna, and with whom Levin suddenly, for an instant, would forget entirely what was taking place, and feel wide awake; and the other was in her presence, by her bed-

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 side, where his heart felt as if it would burst, and it almost did break with compassion, and where he did not cease to pray to God.

And every time when he would be aroused from momentary oblivion by a cry coming from her chamber, he would fall under the same strange delusion as had at the first moment taken possession of him; every time he heard the cry he would spring to his feet, hasten to her room, and on the way remember that he was not to blame, and would long to protect and help. And as he looked on her, he would see that there was no help to be given her; and again the pity would seize him, and he would pray, "Lord, forgive and help us!"

And in proportion as the time passed by, the stronger became the two conditions of mind,—he would be calmer at one moment, perfectly oblivious of her, while remaining out of her presence, and then again the more painful would become his sympathetic torments and the feeling of helplessness before them. He would spring to his feet, feel the impulse to escape somewhere, and hasten to her.

Sometimes when she would keep calling for him he would reproach her; but, seeing her submissive, smiling face, and hearing her words, "I have tired you out," he would reproach God; but, remembering what God was, he would beg for pardon and aid.

CHAPTER XV

did not know whether it was late or early. The candles had already burned down. Dolly had just come into the library, and was proposing to the doctor to lie down. Levin had been sitting there listening to the doctor's story of the charlatanry of magnetizers, and looking at the ash at the end of his cigarette. It was one of the moments of rest, and he was oblivious. He had entirely forgotten what was taking place. He listened to the doctor, and followed him understandingly.

Suddenly was heard a cry unlike anything he had

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 ever heard. This cry was so terrible that Levin did not even stir, but, holding his breath, he looked at the doctor with eyes full of questioning terror.

The doctor bent his head, as if to hear better, and smiled with an air of approbation. Levin had reached the point where nothing could surprise him; and he said inwardly, "Evidently that must be so; but why that cry?" He went back to the sick-room on tiptoe, passed round by Lizavyeta Petrovna and the princess, and stood in his place by the bedside. The cry had ceased, but evidently there was some change. What, he did not know, and did not care to know. But he saw it by the grave expression of Lizavyeta Petrovna's pale face. Her face was stern and pale, and just as resolute as ever, although her lower jaw trembled a little. Her eyes were kept steadily fixed on Kitty. Her flushed, tortured face, with the little tufts of hair clinging to it, was turned toward him, and her eyes sought his. She raised her hand and tried to take his. When once she had got hold of it, she tried with her moist hand to press it to her forehead.

"Don't go, don't go! I am not afraid," said she, quickly. "Mamma, take away my ear-rings; they annoy me. .... You are n't afraid? .... Lizavyeta Petrovna, quick, quick!"—She spoke rapidly, and tried to smile; but suddenly her face grew convulsed, and she pushed him away. "This is terrible! I shall die, I shall die! go! go!" Then came the same unearthly cry.

Levin seized his head in his hands, and rushed from the room.

"That is nothing; all is going well," said Dolly, following after him.

But, whatever they might say, he knew that now all was lost! Leaning his head against the lintel, he stood in the adjoining room and listened to screams and moaning—such sounds as he had never heard before, and he knew that what was making such animal-like noise was she who had once been Kitty. He had long ceased to care about the child. He now hated that child. He even went so far as not to wish for Kitty

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 "You are right," interrupted he, "it cannot have been a preconcerted plan, for you have delivered yourself to the power of the spirits."

He walked again up and down the room in a pensive mood, and then exclaimed suddenly in a determined tone, "Well, I will be one of the party, and, if you like, we will set off instantly."

I eagerly accepted his proposal, and having put in readiness every thing necessary, we agreed to depart in the evening. He proposed to take one of his serjeants with him, and I resolved to do the same. I returned to my lodging against noon, highly pleased with my success, in order to prepare myself for a speedy departure.

We left F at eight o'clock in the evening, nobody was privy to our design, and our serjeants fancied we were going on official business, wondering very much how recruit-


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 to live, provided only her horrible agonies might be ended.

"Doctor, what does that mean? My God!" he said, seizing the doctor's arm as he went in.

"It is the end," replied the doctor; and his face was so serious, as he said this, that Levin thought he meant that Kitty was dead.

Not knowing what would become of him, he went back to the bedroom.

What he first saw was Lizavyeta Petrovna's face; it was even more than before portentous and stern. It was no longer Kitty's face that was there; in the place where it had been before, there was something terrible both by reason of the agony which contracted it, and by reason of the sound that came from it. He bowed his head against the wooden frame of the bed, feeling that his heart would burst. The awful shriek still continued, it grew more piercing than ever, as if the last summit of horror had been reached. Then suddenly the shriek ceased. He could not believe it, but he could not doubt; and he heard a gentle rustling and a quick breathing, and his wife's living, loving, happy voice whispered, "Kanetchna—It is over!"

He raised his head. As she lay there, beautiful with a supernatural beauty, with her arms nervelessly resting on the counterpane, she looked at him, and tried to smile at him, but could not.

Coming suddenly out of that mysterious and terrible world where he had been living for twenty-two hours, Levin felt himself transported back into his ordinary every-day world of luminous happiness, and he could not bear it. The cords long tense snapped. He burst into tears; and the sobs of joy which he could not foresee shook his whole body so violently that he could not speak.

He knelt beside Kitty, and pressed his lips on her hand, and her gentle fingers answered his caress. And meantime, at the foot of the bed, in the skilful hands of Lizavyeta Petrovna, like the small, uncertain flame of a lamp, flickered the life of a human being, which just

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 before had not been, and which with every right and every responsibility would live, and propagate its kind.

"He lives, he lives! Yes, it is a boy! Don't be worried," Levin heard Lizavyeta's voice saying, while with a trembling hand she slapped the little one's back.

"Mamma, is it true?" asked Kitty.

And the princess's sobs answered her.

And amid the silence, like an indubitable answer to the young mother's questions, was heard a voice, absolutely different from the subdued voices speaking in the room. It was the bold, decided, imperious, almost impertinent cry of the new human being, which had come whence no one knew.

Just before, if Levin had been told that Kitty was dead, that he himself had died with her, and that their children were angels, and that they were all in the presence of God, he would not have been surprised. And now that he had come back to reality, it took a prodigious effort of thought to comprehend that his wife was alive, that she was doing well, and that this desperately screeching creature was his son. Kitty was saved, her suffering was passed, and he was inexpressibly happy. That he could understand, and it made him happy; but the child! Whence? Why? What was it? .... He could not wont himself to the thought of it. It seemed to him somehow too much, too overwhelming; and it was long before he became accustomed to it.

CHAPTER XVI

old Prince Sergyeï Ivanovitch and Stepan Arkadyevitch met at Levin's the next morning, about ten o'clock, and after they talked about the little mother, they began to converse about irrelevant topics. Levin listened to them, and involuntarily remembering what had taken place, what had been going on that morning, he also remembered what he himself had been but a few hours before.

It was as if a hundred years had passed since then.

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Page:The Necromancer, or, The Tale of the Black Forest Vol. 1.djvu/197

 ing officers in the service of two different princes, could act thus in concord: But on the road we undeceived them, and were much rejoiced that our hoary veterans did not dislike our enterprize.

Three days after our departure from F we arrived within a small distance from the place of our destination, without having met with any sinister accident.

We were now on the skirts of the Black Forest but could see no village; the spot where the houses leading to the castle had began was deeply impressed on my memory: I shewed to my fellow traveller the rivulet, on the borders of which the old man had been sitting when we first had met him,—We looked about for the houses but we could find none. I did not know what to think of the matter.

Pursuing our route, we ascended a rising ground, gracious heaven! how was I shocked


text:
Talk:Counter-Attack and Other Poems

Formatting in the contents list
The formatting went wrong at the page break, with the first entry on the second page appearing beside the last on the first. I tried to get it to work but it is still not right. -- Beardo (talk) 11:24, 25 November 2023 (UTC)

 * Fixed it. I know you didn't do the original formatting, but I wish people would use TOC templates instead of simple tables for ToC. Chrisguise (talk) 22:46, 25 November 2023 (UTC)
 * Thanks. I don't yet understand these things well enough. -- Beardo (talk) 13:32, 27 November 2023 (UTC)

Front matter
There is a page Counter-Attack and Other Poems/Front matter transcluded from the book but not linked from anywhere. What should be done with that ? -- Beardo (talk) 13:33, 27 November 2023 (UTC)

title: Talk:Counter-Attack and Other Poems


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 when I at once beheld an heap of ruins on the spot where the village had stood! We could still trace the marks of conflagration. In the back ground we saw only a few miserable huts left, and a little farther distant the castle presented itself to our view. We gazed at each other in dumb astonishment, and the Austrian alighted; I and our two hoary veterans did the same, and we climbed, after much difficulty, over the heap of ruins. As we approached the few remaining houses, the inhabitants came running towards us covered with rags, and exhibiting pale woe-worn countenances. I never beheld such an horrid picture of wretchedness and misery;—they wrung their hands, crying for alms, and wept bitterly.

Having distributed money amongst them, I inquired when that misfortune had happened. "Alas!" groaned they, "who should have thought, when your honor left us, that you ever would see us in such a miserable state? We all are ruined; all our little pro-


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 —By Jasus! there is the finest for the —.

—There cannot be a finer; quoth I.

the precipitancy of a man's wishes hurries on his ideas ninety times faster than the vehicle he rides in—woe be to truth! and woe be to the vehicle and its tackling (let 'em be made of what stuff you will) upon which he breathes forth the disappointment of his soul!

As I never give general characters either of men or things in choler, "the most haste, the worst speed;" was all the re-


text: The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 7/Chapter 7


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 flection I made upon the affair, the first time it happen'd;—the second, third, fourth, and fifth time, I confined it respectively to those times, and accordingly blamed only the second, third, fourth, and fifth post-boy for it, without carrying my reflections further; but the event continuing to befall me from the fifth, to the sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth time, and without one exception, I then could not avoid making a national reflection of it, which I do in these words;

That something is always wrong in a French post-chaise upon first setting out.

Or the proposition may stand thus.

A French postilion has always to alight


text: Index:Registered Designs Act 1949 (UKPGA Geo6-12-13-14-88 qp).pdf


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 before he has got three hundred yards out of town.

What's wrong now?—Diable!—a rope's broke!—a knot has slipt!—a staple's drawn!—a bolt's to whittle!—a tag, a rag, a jag, a strap, a buckle, or a buckle's tongue, want altering.

Now true as all this is, I never think myself impower'd to excommunicate thereupon either the post-chaise, or its driver—nor do I take it into my head to swear by the living G—, I would rather go a foot ten thousand times—or that I will be damn'd if ever I get into another—but I take the matter coolly before me, and consider, that some tag, or


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 rag, or jag, or bolt, or buckle, or buckle's tongue, will ever be a wanting, or want altering, travel where I will—so I never chaff, but take the good and the bad as they fall in my road, and get on:—Do so, my lad! said I; he had lost five minutes already, in alighting in order to get at a luncheon of black bread which he had cramm'd into the chaise-pocket, and was remounted and going leisurely on, to relish it the better—Get on, my lad, said I, briskly—but in the most persuasive tone imaginable, for I jingled a four and twenty sous piece against the glass, taking care to hold the flat side towards him, as he look'd back: the dog grinn'd intelligence from his right ear to his left, and behind his sooty


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 muzzle discover'd such a pearly row of teeth, that Sovereignty would have pawn'd her jewels for them.

and so, as he finish'd the last mouthful of it, we enter'd the town of Montreuil.


text: The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman/Volume 7/Chapter 8


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is not a town in all France, which in my opinion, looks better in the map, than ;—I own, it does not look so well in the book of post roads; but when you come to see it—to be sure it looks most pitifully.

There is one thing however in it at present very handsome; and that is the inn-keeper's daughter: She has been eighteen months at Amiens, and six at Paris, in going through her classes; so knits, and sews, and dances, and does the little coquetries very well.

—A slut! in running them over within these five minutes that I have stood looking at her, she has let fall at least a


text: Category:United States Supreme Court slip opinions - Volume 600


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 ing orientation is easily understood and should give the reader but little trouble.

Often a part of a constellation, such as the Big Dipper, is more familiar to the majority of people than the whole constellation, which is called "Ursa Major" or the "Great Bear,"—the handle of the Dipper is only the tail of the Bear. In all cases these prominent features will be used as index names.

Romance is said to gain when tinctured with realism just as realism gains when tinctured with romance. So, with a heart filled with beauty and a mind filled with facts, let us go forth on starry nights and seek, with eyes that are friendly, our acquaintances among the stars.

title: Page:The Music of the Spheres.djvu/48


text: Author talk:T. Locke O'Carroll

title: Author talk:T. Locke O'Carroll


text: Category:Palaeography

title: Category:Palaeography


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Rh II

Hugh recognised in this friend's entrance and face the light of welcome he went, full of his subject, straight to their main affair. "I haven't been able to wait, I've wanted so much to tell you—I mean how I've just come back from Brussels, where I saw Pappendick, who was free and ready, by the happiest chance, to start for Verona, which he must have reached some time yesterday."

The girl's responsive interest fairly broke into rapture. "Ah, the dear sweet thing!"

"Yes, he's a brick—but the question now hangs in the balance. Allowing him time to have got into relation with the picture, I've begun to expect his wire, which will probably come to my club; but my fidget, while I wait, has driven me"—he threw out and dropped his arms in expression of his soft surrender—"well, just to do this: to come to you here, in my fever, at an unnatural hour and uninvited, and at least let you know I've 'acted.'"

"Oh, but I simply rejoice," Lady Grace declared, "to be acting with you."


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152 "Then if you are, if you are," the young man cried, "why everything's beautiful and right!"

"It's all I care for and think of now," she went on in her bright devotion, "and I've only wondered and hoped!"

Well, Hugh found for it all a rapid, abundant lucidity. "He was away from home at first, and I had to wait—but I crossed last week, found him and settled it; coming home by Paris, where I had a grand four days' jaw with the fellows there and saw their great specimen of our master: all of which has given him time."

"And now his time's up?" the girl eagerly asked.

"It must be—and we shall see." But Hugh postponed that question to a matter of more moment still. "The thing is that at last I'm able to tell you how I feel the trouble I've brought you."

It made her, quickly colouring, rest grave eyes on him. "What do you know—when I haven't told you—about my 'trouble'?"

"Can't I have guessed, with a ray of intelligence?"—he had his answer ready. "You've


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Rh sought asylum with this good friend from the effects of your father's resentment."

"'Sought asylum' is perhaps excessive," Lady Grace returned—"though it wasn't pleasant with him after that hour, no," she allowed. "And I couldn't go, you see, to Kitty."

"No indeed, you couldn't go to Kitty." He smiled at her hard as he added: "I should have liked to see you go to Kitty! Therefore exactly is it that I've set you adrift—that I've darkened and poisoned your days. You're paying with your comfort, with your peace, for having joined so gallantly in my grand remonstrance."

She shook her head, turning from him, but then turned back again—as if accepting, as if even relieved by, this version of the prime cause of her state. "Why do you talk of it as 'paying'—if it's all to come back to my being paid? I mean by your blest success—if you really do what you want."

"I have your word for it," he searchingly said, "that our really pulling it off together will make up to you?"

"I should be ashamed if it didn't, for


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154 !"—she took the question from his mouth. "I believe in such a cause exactly as you do—and found a lesson, at Dedborough, in your frankness and your faith."

"Then you'll help me no end," he said all simply and sincerely.

"You've helped me already"—that she gave him straight back. And on it they stayed a moment, their strenuous faces more intensely communing.

"You're very wonderful—for a girl!" Hugh brought out.

"One has to be a girl, naturally, to be a daughter of one's house," she laughed; "and that's all I am of ours—but a true and a right and a straight one."

He glowed with his admiration. "You're splendid!"

That might be or not, her light shrug intimated; she gave it, at any rate, the go-by and more exactly stated her case. "I see our situation."

"So do I, Lady Grace!" he cried with the strongest emphasis. "And your father only doesn't."

"Yes," she said for intelligent correction—


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Rh "he sees it, there's nothing in life he sees so much. But unfortunately he sees it all wrong."

Hugh seized her point of view as if there had been nothing of her that he wouldn't have seized. "He sees it all wrong then! My appeal the other day he took as a rude protest. And any protest"

"Any protest," she quickly and fully agreed, "he takes as an offence, yes. It's his theory that he still has rights," she smiled, "though he is a miserable peer."

"How should he not have rights," said Hugh, "when he has really everything on earth?"

"Ah, he doesn't even know that—he takes it so much for granted." And she sought, though as rather sadly and despairingly, to explain. "He lives all in his own world."

"He lives all in his own, yes; but he does business all in ours—quite as much as the people who come up to the city in the Tube." With which Hugh had a still sharper recall of the stiff actual. "And he must be here to do business to-day."

"You know," Lady Grace asked, "that he's to meet Mr. Bender?"


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 or of yearning for the society of an absent friend. He was vehement in affection, as in doctrine. I will not deny that there may have been, along with his vehemence, something shifty, and for the moment only; that, like many men, and many Scotchmen, he saw the world and his own heart, not so much under any very steady, equable light, as by extreme flashes of passion, true for the moment, but not true in the long run. There does seem to me to be something of this traceable in the Reformer's utterances: precipitation and repentance, hardy speech and action somewhat circumspect, a strong tendency to see himself in a heroic light and to place a ready belief in the disposition of the moment. Withal he had considerable confidence in himself, and in the uprightness of his own disciplined emotions, underlying much sincere aspiration after spiritual humility. And it is this confidence that makes his intercourse with women so interesting to a modern. It would be easy, of course, to make fun of the whole affair, to picture him strutting vaingloriously among these inferior creatures, or compare a religious friendship in the sixteenth century with what was called, I think, a literary friendship in the eighteenth. But it is more just and profitable to recognise what there is sterling and human underneath all his theoretical affectations of


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 superiority. Women, he has said in his "First Blast," are, "weak, frail, impatient, feeble, and foolish;" and yet it does not appear that he was himself any less dependent than other men upon the sympathy and affection of these weak, frail, impatient, feeble, and foolish creatures; it seems even as if he had been rather more dependent than most.

Of those who are to act influentially on their fellows, we should expect always something large and public in their way of life, something more or less urbane and comprehensive in their sentiment for others. We should not expect to see them spend their sympathy in idyls, however beautiful. We should not seek them among those who, if they have but a wife to their bosom, ask no more of womankind, just as they ask no more of their own sex, if they can find a friend or two for their immediate need. They will be quick to feel all the pleasures of our association—not the great ones alone, but all. They will know not love only, but all those other ways in which man and woman mutually make each other happy—by sympathy, by admiration, by the atmosphere they bear about them—down to the mere impersonal pleasure of passing happy faces in the street. For, through all this gradation, the difference of sex makes itself pleasurably felt. Down to the most lukewarm


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156 "Lady Sandgate kindly warned me, and," her companion saw as he glanced at the clock on the chimney, "I've only ten minutes at best. The 'Journal' won't have been good for him," he added—"you doubtless have seen the 'Journal'?"

"No"—she was vague. "We live by the 'Morning Post.'"

"That's why our friend here didn't speak then," Hugh said with a better light—"which, out of a dim consideration for her, I didn't do either. But they've a leader this morning about Lady Lappington and her Longhi, and on Bender and his hauls, and on the certainty—if we don't do something energetic—of more and more Benders to come: such a conquering horde as invaded the old civilisation, only armed now with huge cheque-books instead of with spears and battle-axes. They refer to the rumour current—as too horrific to believe—of Lord Theign's putting up his Moretto; with the question of how properly to qualify any such sad purpose in him should the further report prove true of a new and momentous opinion about the picture entertained by several eminent authorities."


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 courtesies of life, there is a special chivalry due and a special pleasure received, when the two sexes are brought ever so lightly into contact. We love our mothers otherwise than we love our fathers; a sister is not as a brother to us; and friendship between man and woman, be it never so unalloyed and innocent, is not the same as friendship between man and man. Such friendship is not even possible for all. To conjoin tenderness for a woman that is not far short of passionate with such disinterestedness and beautiful gratuity of affection as there is between friends of the same sex, requires no ordinary disposition in the man. For either it would presuppose quite womanly delicacy of perception, and, as it were, a curiosity in shades of differing sentiment; or it would mean that he had accepted the large, simple divisions of society: a strong and positive spirit robustly virtuous, who has chosen a better part coarsely, and holds to it steadfastly, with all its consequences of pain to himself and others; as one who should go straight before him on a journey, neither tempted by wayside flowers nor very scrupulous of small lives under foot. It was in virtue of this latter disposition that Knox was capable of those intimacies with women that embellished his life; and we find him preserved for us in old letters as a man of many women friends; a man of some


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 expansion toward the other sex; a man ever ready to comfort weeping women, and to weep along with them.

Of such scraps and fragments of evidence as to his private life and more intimate thoughts as have survived to us from all the perils that environ written paper, an astonishingly large proportion is in the shape of letters to women of his familiarity. He was twice married, but that is not greatly to the purpose; for the Turk, who thinks even more meanly of women than John Knox, is none the less given to marrying. What is really significant is quite apart from marriage. For the man Knox was a true man, and woman, the ewig-weibliche, was as necessary to him, in spite of all low theories, as ever she was to Goethe. He came to her in a certain halo of his own, as the minister of truth, just as Goethe came to her in a glory of art; he made himself necessary to troubled hearts and minds exercised in the painful complications that naturally result from all changes in the world's way of thinking; and those whom he had thus helped became dear to him, and were made the chosen companions of his leisure if they were at hand, or encouraged and comforted by letter if they were afar.

It must not be forgotten that Knox had been a presbyter of the old Church, and that the many


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 women whom we shall see gathering around him, as he goes through life, had probably been accustomed, while still in the communion of Rome, to rely much upon some chosen spiritual director, so that the intimacies of which I propose to offer some account, while testifying to a good heart in the Reformer, testify also to a certain survival of the spirit of the confessional in the Reformed Church, and are not properly to be judged without this idea. There is no friendship so noble, but it is the product of the time; and a world of little finical observances, and little frail proprieties and fashions of the hour, go to make or to mar, to stint or to perfect, the union of spirits the most loving and the most intolerant of such interference. The trick of the country and the age steps in even between the mother and her child, counts out their caresses upon niggardly fingers, and says, in the voice of authority, that this one thing shall be a matter of confidence between them, and this other thing shall not. And thus it is that we must take into reckoning whatever tended to modify the social atmosphere in which Knox and his women friends met, and loved and trusted each other. To the man who had been their priest and was now their minister, women would be able to speak with a confidence quite impossible in these latter days; the women would be able to speak, and the


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Rh "Of whom," said the girl, intensely attached to this recital, "you're of course seen as not the least."

"Of whom, of course, Lady Grace, I'm as yet—however I'm 'seen'—the whole collection. But we've time"—he rested on that. "The fat, if you'll allow me the expression, is on the fire—which, as I see the matter, is where this particular fat should be."

"Is the article, then," his companion appealed, "very severe?"

"I prefer to call it very enlightened and very intelligent—and the great thing is that it immensely 'marks,' as they say. It will have made a big public difference—from this day; though it's of course aimed not so much at persons as at conditions; which it calls upon us all somehow to tackle."

"Exactly"—she was full of the saving vision; "but as the conditions are directly embodied in persons"

"Oh, of course it here and there bells the cat; which means that it bells three or four."

"Yes," she richly brooded—"Lady Lappington is a cat!"

"She will have been 'belled,' at any rate,


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 man to hear. It was a beaten road just then; and I daresay we should be no less scandalised at their plain speech than they, if they could come back to earth, would be offended at our waltzes and worldly fashions. This, then, was the footing on which Knox stood with his many women friends. The reader will see, as he goes on, how much of warmth, of interest, and of that happy mutual dependence which is the very gist of friendship, he contrived to ingraft upon this somewhat dry relationship of penitent and confessor.

It must be understood that we know nothing of his intercourse with women (as indeed we know little at all about his life) until he came to Berwick in 1549, when he was already in the forty-fifth year of his age. At the same time it is just possible that some of a little group at Edinburgh, with whom he corresponded during his last absence, may have been friends of an older standing. Certainly they were, of all his female correspondents, the least personally favoured. He treats them throughout in a comprehensive sort of spirit that must at times have been a little wounding. Thus, he remits one of them to his former letters, "which I trust be common betwixt you and the rest of our sisters, for to me ye are all equal in Christ." Another letter is a gem in this


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158 with your father," Hugh amusedly went on, "to the certainty of a row; and a row can only be good for us—I mean for us in particular." Yet he had to bethink himself. "The case depends a good deal of course on how your father takes such a resounding rap."

"Oh, I know how he'll take it!"—her perception went all the way.

"In the very highest and properest spirit?"

"Well, you'll see." She was as brave as she was clear. "Or at least I shall!"

Struck with all this in her he renewed his homage. "You are, yes, splendid!"

"I even," she laughed, "surprise myself."

But he was already back at his calculations, "How early do the papers get to you?"

"At Dedborough? Oh, quite for breakfast—which isn't, however, very early."

"Then that's what has caused his wire to Bender."

"But how will such talk strike him?" the girl asked.

Hugh meanwhile, visibly, had not only followed his train of thought, he had let it lead him to certainty. "It will have moved Mr. Bender to absolute rapture."


text:
Author talk:Clarence Matthew Schleh

= sources =

Name 	Clarence Matthew Schleh [Clarence M Schleh] Gender 	Male Race 	White Birth Date 	20 May 1921 Birth Place 	Pittsburgh A, Pennsylvania Death Date 	5 Mar 1993 Father 	Clarence M Schleh Mother 	Mary E Eyster SSN 	094167994 Notes 	Jun 1939: Name listed as CLARENCE MATTHEW SCHLEH; 11 Mar 1993: Name listed as CLARENCE M SCHLEH
 * SSDI

title: Author talk:Clarence Matthew Schleh


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Rh "Rather," Lady Grace wondered, "than have put him off?"

"It will have put him prodigiously on! Mr. Bender—as he said to me at Dedborough of his noble host there," Hugh pursued—"is 'a very nice man'; but he's a product of the world of advertisement, and advertisement is all he sees and aims at. He lives in it as a saint in glory or a fish in water."

She took it from him as half doubting. "But mayn't advertisement, in so special a case, turn, on the whole, against him?"

Hugh shook a negative forefinger with an expression he might have caught from foreign comrades. "He rides the biggest whirlwind—he has got it saddled and bitted."

She faced the image, but cast about. "Then where does our success come in?"

"In our making the beast, all the same, bolt with him and throw him." And Hugh further pointed the moral. "If in such proceedings all he knows is publicity the thing is to give him publicity, and it's only a question of giving him enough. By the time he has enough for himself, you see, he'll have too much for every one else—so that we shall 'up' in a body and slay him."


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160 The girl's eyebrows, in her wondering face, rose to a question. "But if he has meanwhile got the picture?"

"We'll slay him before he gets it!" He revelled in the breadth of his view. "Our own policy must be to organise to that end the inevitable outcry. Organise Bender himself—organise him to scandal." Hugh had already even pity to spare for their victim. "He won't know it from a boom."

Though carried along, however, Lady Grace could still measure. "But that will be only if he wants and decides for the picture."

"We must make him then want and decide for it—decide, that is, for 'ours.' To save it we must work him up—he'll in that case want it so indecently much. Then we shall have to want it more!"

"Well," she anxiously felt it her duty to remind him, "you can take a horse to water!"

"Oh, trust me to make him drink!"

There appeared a note in this that convinced her, "It's you, Mr. Crimble, who are 'splendid'!"

"Well, I shall be—with my jolly wire!"


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now the messengers ride. We will do you to wit, how the queen journeyed through the lands and where Giselher and Gernot parted from her. They had served her as their fealty bade them. Down to Vergen on the Danube they rode; here they gan crave leave of the queen, for they would ride again to the Rhine. Without tears these faithful kinsmen might not part. Doughty Giselher spake then to his sister: “Whenever, lady, thou shouldst need me, when aught doth trouble thee, let me but know, and I will ride in thy service to Etzel’s land.” Those who were her kin she kissed upon the mouth. Lovingly they took their leave of Margrave Rudeger’s men. The queen had with her many a fair-fashioned maid, full a hundred and four, that wore costly robes of rich, gay-colored silks. Many broad shields were borne close by the ladies on the road, but many a lordly warrior turned then from her.

They journeyed soon from thence down through Bavarian land. Here the tale was told that many unknown strangers had gathered there, where still a cloister standeth and where the Inn floweth into the Danube. In the town of Passau, where lived a bishop, lodgings were soon emptied and the prince’s court as well, as they hurried forth to meet the strangers in the Bavarian land, where the Bishop Pilgrim found fair


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Rh And all on that scent again, "May I come back to you from the club with Pappendick's news?" he asked.

"Why, rather, of course, come back!"

"Only not," he debated, "till your father has left."

Lady Grace considered too, but sharply decided. "Come when you have it. But tell me first," she added, "one thing." She hung fire a little while he waited, but she brought it out. "Was it you who got the 'Journal' to speak?"

"Ah, one scarcely 'gets' the 'Journal'!"

"Who then gave them their 'tip'?"

"About the Mantovano and its peril?" Well, he took a moment—but only not to say; in addition to which the butler had reappeared, entering from the lobby. "I'll tell you," he laughed, "when I come back!"

Gotch had his manner of announcement while the visitor was mounting the stairs. "Mr. Breckenridge Bender!"

"Ah then I go," said Lady Grace at once.

"I'll stay three minutes." Hugh turned with her, alertly, to the easier issue, signalling hope and cheer from that threshold as he


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I kiss thy hands—thy hands, whose fingers are delicate and pale as the petals of the white lotus.

I kiss thy hair, which has the lustre of black jewels, and is darker than Lethe, flowing by midnight through the moonless slumber of poppy-scented lands.

I kiss thy brow, which resembles the rising moon in a valley of cedars.

I kiss thy cheeks, where lingers a faint flush, like the reflection of a rose upheld to an urn of alabaster.

I kiss thine eyelids, and liken them to the purple-veinèd flowers that close beneath the oppression of a tropic evening, in a land where the sunsets are bright as the flames of burning amber.

I kiss thy throat, whose ardent pallor is the pallor of marble warmed by the autumn sun.

I kiss thy mouth, which has the savour and perfume of fruits agleam with spray from a magic fountain, in the secret Paradise that we alone shall find; a Paradise whence they that come shall nevermore depart, for the waters thereof are Lethe, and the fruit is the fruit of the tree of Life.


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162 watched her disappear; after which he faced about with as brave a smile and as ready for immediate action as if she had there within kissed her hand to him. Mr. Bender emerged at the same instant, Gotch withdrawing and closing the door behind him; and the former personage, recognising his young friend, threw up his hands for friendly pleasure.

 III

", Mr. Crimble," he cordially inquired, "you've come with your great news?"

Hugh caught the allusion, it would have seemed, but after a moment. "News of the Moretto? No, Mr. Bender, I haven't news yet." But he added as with high candour for the visitor's motion of disappointment: "I think I warned you, you know, that it would take three or four weeks."

"Well, in my country," Mr. Bender returned with disgust, "it would take three or four minutes! Can't you make 'em step more lively?"


text: Who's Who in China (3rd edition)/Chao Kuo-t'sai


text: The Outcry (London: Methuen & Co., 1911)/Book 2/Chapter 2


text: Who's Who in China (3rd edition)/Chao Te-san


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Rh Kriemhild. The knights of the land were little loth, when in her train they saw so many comely maids; with their eyes they courted the daughters of noble knights. Later good lodgings were given the noble guests.

With his niece the bishop rode toward Passau. When it was told the burghers of the town that Kriemhild was come, their prince’s sister’s child, well was she greeted by the merchants. The bishop had the hope that they would stay. Then spake Sir Eckewart: “That may not be. We must fare further down to Rüdeger’s land. Many knights await us, for all wot well the news.”

Well wist fair Gotelind the tale. She tired her and her noble child with care. Rüdeger had sent her word that it thought him good that she should cheer the mind of the queen by riding forth, with his vassals to the Enns for to meet her. When this message had been given, one saw on every side the roads alive; on foot and horse they hastened to meet their guests. Now was the queen come to Efferding. Enow there were from the Bavarian land who might perchance have done the guests much harm, had they robbed upon the roads, as was their wont. That had been forestalled by the lordly margrave: he led a thousand knights or more.

Now Gotelind, the wife of Rüdeger, was come; with her there rode many a noble knight in lordly wise. When they were come across the Traun, upon the plain by Enns, one saw erected huts and tents, where the guests should have their lodgings for the night. Rüdeger gave the vitaille to his guests. Fair Gotelind left her lodgings far behind her; along the road there


text: Who's Who in China (3rd edition)/Chao Yu-k'e


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text: Index:The Kaveri The Maukharis And The Sangam Age.pdf


text:
Page:The Nibelungenlied - tr. Shumway - 1909.pdf/234

Rh trotted many a shapely palfrey with jingling bridle. Fair was the welcome; right well was Rüdeger pleased. Among those who rode to meet them on the way, on either side, in praiseworthy wise, was many a knight. They practised chivalry, the which full many a maiden saw. Nor did the service of the knights mislike the queen. When that Rüdeger’s liegemen met the guests, many truncheons were seen to fly on high from the warriors’ hands in knightly custom. As though for a prize they rode before the ladies there. This they soon gave over and many warriors greeted each other in friendly wise. Then they escorted fair Gotelind from thence to where she saw Kriemhild. Scant leisure had they who wot how to serve the ladies.

The lord of Bechelaren rode now to his wife. Little it irked the noble margravine that he was come so well and sound from the Rhine. In part her cares had given way to joy. When she had welcomed him, he bade her dismount with the ladies of her train upon the sward. Many a noble knight bestirred him and served the ladies with eager zeal. Then Kriemhild spied the margravine standing with her meiny. No nearer she drew, but checked the palfrey with the bridle and bade them lift her quickly from the saddle. Men saw the bishop with Eckewart lead his sister’s child to Gotelind. All stood aside at once. Then the exiled queen kissed Gotelind upon the mouth. Full lovingly spake Rüdeger’s wife: “Now well is me, dear lady, that I have ever seen with mine own eyes your charming self in these our lands. Naught liefer might hap to me in all these times.”

“Now God requite you,” quoth Kriemhild, “most


text: Who's Who in China (3rd edition)/Ch'en Ta