Arthur Hughes paintings

Arthur Hughes paintings
Albert Bierstadt paintings
As soon as we were alone, my aunt reclined on the sofa, and then alluded, with some appearance of confusion, to the subject of her Will.
`I hope you won't think yourself neglected, Drusilla,' she said. `I mean to give you your little legacy, my dear, with my own hand.'
Here was a golden opportunity! I seized it on the spot. In other words, I instantly opened my bag, and took out the top publication. It proved to be an early edition--only the twenty-fifth--of the famous anonymous work (believed to be by precious Miss Bellows), entitled The Serpent at Home. The design of the book-- with which the worldly reader may not be acquainted--is to show how the Evil One lies in wait for us in all the most apparently innocent actions of our daily lives. The chapters best adapted to female perusal are `Satan in the Hair Brush'; `Satan behind the Looking Glass'; `Satan under the Tea Table'; `Satan out of the Window'--and many others.
`Give your attention, dear aunt, to this precious book--and you will give me all I ask.' With those words, I handed it to her open, at a marked passage--one continuous burst of burning eloquence! Subject: Satan among the Sofa Cushions.
Poor Lady Verinder (reclining thoughtlessly on her own sofa cushions) glanced at the book, and handed it back

Leon-Augustin L'hermitte paintings

Leon-Augustin L'hermitte paintings
Lady Laura Teresa Alma-Tadema paintings
THOSE in front had spread the news before us. We found the servants in a state of panic. As we passed my lady's door, it was thrown open violently from the inner side. My mistress came out among us (with Mr. Franklin following, and trying vainly to compose her), quite beside herself with the horror of the thing.
`You are answerable for this!' she cried out, threatening the Sergeant wildly with her hand. `Gabriel! give that wretch his money--and release me from the sight of him!'
The Sergeant was the only one among us who was fit to cope with her -- being the only one among us who was in possession of himself.
`I am no more answerable for this distressing calamity, my lady, than you are,' he said. `If, in half an hour from this, you still insist on my leaving the house, I will accept your ladyship's dismissal, but not your ladyship's money.'

Jean-Honore Fragonard paintings

Jean-Honore Fragonard paintings
Jehan Georges Vibert paintings
whether she has had a new outfit of linen lately?'
What he meant by slipping in this extraordinary question unawares, I was at a total loss to imagine. Seeing no possible injury to Rosanna if I owned the truth, I answered that the girl had come to us rather sparely provided with linen, and that my lady, in recompense for her good conduct (I laid a stress on her good conduct), had given her a new outfit not a fortnight since.
`This is a miserable world,' says the Sergeant. `Human life, Mr.Betteredge, is a sort of target--misfortune is always firing at it, and always hitting the mark. But for that outfit, we should have discovered a new nightgown or petticoat among Rosanna's things, and have nailed her in that way. You're not at a loss to follow me, are you? You have examined the servants yourself, and you know what discoveries two of them made outside Rosanna's door. Surely you know what the girl was about yesterday, after she was taken ill? You can't guess? Oh dear me, it's as plain as that strip of light there, at the end of the trees. At eleven, on Thursday morning, Superintendent Seegrave (who is a mass of human infirmity) points out to all the women-servants the smear on the door. Rosanna has her own reasons for suspecting her own things; she takes the first

Pino Desire painting

Pino Desire painting
Claude Monet The Picnic painting
consciousness of home waiting at the end of it. It was sunset when they passed through White Sands and turned into the shore road. Beyond, the Avonlea hills came out darkly against the saffron sky. Behind them the moon was rising out of the sea that grew all radiant and transfigured in her light. Every little cove along the curving road was a marvel of dancing ripples. The waves broke with a soft swish on the rocks below them, and the tang of the sea was in the strong, fresh air.
"Oh, but it's good to be alive and to be going home," breathed Anne.
When she crossed the log bridge over the brook the kitchen light of Green Gables winked her a friendly welcome back, and through the open door shone the hearth fire, sending out its warm red glow athwart the chilly autumn night. Anne ran blithely up the hill and into the kitchen, where a hot supper was waiting on the table.
"So you've got back?" said Marilla, folding up her knitting.

Leonardo da Vinci the picture of the last supper painting

Leonardo da Vinci the picture of the last supper painting
Pierre-Auguste Cot Springtime painting
households when the events of the afternoon became known.
"Will you ever have any sense, Anne?" groaned Marilla.
"Oh, yes, I think I will, Marilla," returned Anne optimistically. A good cry, indulged in the grateful solitude of the east gable, had soothed her nerves and restored her to her wonted cheerfulness. "I think my prospects of becoming sensible are brighter now than ever"
"I don't see how," said Marilla.
"Well," explained Anne, "I've learned a new and valuable lesson today. Ever since I came to Green Gables I've been making mistakes, and each mistake has helped to cure me of some great shortcoming. The affair of the amethyst brooch cured me of meddling with things that didn't belong to me. The Haunted Wood mistake cured me of letting my imagination run away with me. The liniment cake mistake cured me of carelessness in cooking. Dyeing my hair cured me of vanity. I never think about

Guillaume Seignac The Wave painting

Guillaume Seignac The Wave painting
Steve Hanks Interior View I painting
Green it might be called, if it were any earthly color--a queer, dull, bronzy green, with streaks here and there of the original red to heighten the ghastly effect. Never in all her life had Marilla seen anything so grotesque as Anne's hair at that moment.
"Yes, it's green," moaned Anne. "I thought nothing could be as bad as red hair. But now I know it's ten times worse to have green hair. Oh, Marilla, you little know how utterly wretched I am."
"I little know how you got into this fix, but I mean to find out," said Marilla. "Come right down to the kitchen--it's too cold up here--and tell me just what you've done. I've been expecting something queer for some time. You haven't got into any scrape for over two months, and I was sure another one was due. Now, then, what did you do to your hair?"
"I dyed it."
"Dyed it! Dyed your hair! Anne Shirley, didn't you know it was a wicked thing to do

3d art Lessons Learned by EyEars painting

3d art Lessons Learned by EyEars painting
George Frederick Watts Love And Life painting
I was awfully near giving up in despair," explained Anne. "She got worse and worse until she was sicker than ever the Hammond twins were, even the last pair. I actually thought she was going to choke to death. I gave her every drop of ipecac in that bottle and when the last dose went down I said to myself--not to Diana or Young Mary Joe, because I didn't want to worry them any more than they were worried, but I had to say it to myself just to relieve my feelings--`This is the last lingering hope and I fear, tis a vain one.' But in about three minutes she coughed up the phlegm and began to get better right away. You must just imagine my relief, doctor, because I can't express it in words. You know there are some things that cannot be expressed in words."
"Yes, I know," nodded the doctor. He looked at Anne as if he were thinking some things about her that couldn't be expressed in words. Later on, however, he expressed them to Mr. and Mrs. Barry.

Claude Monet Water Lily Pond painting

Claude Monet Water Lily Pond painting
Claude Monet Boulevard des Capucines painting
My courage fails me at the thought of facing Diana's injured mother," sighed Anne. "I wish you'd go, Marilla. You're so much more dignified than I am. Likely she'd listen to you quicker than to me."
"Well, I will," said Marilla, reflecting that it would probably be the wiser course. "Don't cry any more, Anne. It will be all right."
Marilla had changed her mind about it being all right by the time she got back from Orchard Slope. Anne was watching for her coming and flew to the porch door to meet her.
"Oh, Marilla, I know by your face that it's been no use," she said sorrowfully. "Mrs. Barry won't forgive me?"
"Mrs. Barry indeed!" snapped Marilla. "Of all the unreasonable women I ever saw she's the worst. I told her it mistake and you weren't to blame, but she just simply didn't believe me. And she rubbed it well in about my currant wine and how I'd always said it couldn't have the least effect on anybody. I just told her plainly that currant wine wasn't meant to be drunk three tumblerfuls at a time and that if a child I had to do with was so greedy I'd sober her up with a right good spanking."

Allan R.Banks paintings

Allan R.Banks paintings
Andrea Mantegna paintings
reproachful-like.
"Mr. and Mrs. Thomas moved away from Bolingbroke to Marysville, and I lived with them until I was eight years old. I helped look after the Thomas children--there were four of them younger than me--and I can tell you they took a lot of looking after. Then Mr. Thomas was killed falling under a train and his mother offered to take Mrs. Thomas and the children, but she didn't want me. Mrs. Thomas was at her wits' end, so she said, what to do with me. Then Mrs. Hammond from up the river came down and said she'd take me, seeing I was handy with children, and I went up the river to live with her in a little clearing among the stumps. It was a very lonesome place. I'm sure I could never have lived there if I hadn't had an imagination. Mr. Hammond worked a little sawmill up there, and Mrs. Hammond had eight children. She had twins three times. I like babies in moderation, but twins three times in succession is too much. I told Mrs. Hammond so firmly, when the last pair came. I used to get so dreadfully tired carrying them about.

Maxfield Parrish paintings

Maxfield Parrish paintings
Martin Johnson Heade paintings
No. We want a boy to help Matthew on the farm. A girl would be of no use to us. Take off your hat. I'll lay it and your bag on the hall table."
Anne took off her hat meekly. Matthew came back presently and they sat down to supper. But Anne could not eat. In vain she nibbled at the bread and butter and pecked at the crab-apple preserve out of the little scalloped glass dish by her plate. She did not really make any headway at all.
"You're not eating anything," said Marilla sharply, eying her as if it were a serious shortcoming. Anne sighed.
"I can't. I'm in the depths of despair. Can you eat when you are in the depths of despair?"
"I've never been in the depths of despair, so I can't say," responded Marilla.
"Weren't you? Well, did you ever try to imagine you were in the depths of despair?"
"No, I didn't."
"Then I don't think you can understand what it's like. It's very uncomfortable feeling indeed. W

Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot paintings

Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot paintings
James Childs paintings
over with huge, wide-spreading apple-trees, planted years ago by an eccentric old farmer. Overhead was one long canopy of snowy fragrant bloom. Below the boughs the air was full of a purple twilight and far ahead a glimpse of painted sunset sky shone like a great rose window at the end of a cathedral aisle.
Its beauty seemed to strike the child dumb. She leaned back in the buggy, her thin hands clasped before her, her face lifted rapturously to the white splendor above. Even when they had passed out and were driving down the long slope to Newbridge she never moved or spoke. Still with rapt face she gazed afar into the sunset west, with eyes that saw visions trooping splendidly across that glowing background. Through Newbridge, a bustling little village where dogs barked at them and small boys hooted and curious faces peered from the windows, they drove, still in silence. When three more miles had

Thomas Kinkade Serenity Cove painting

Thomas Kinkade Serenity Cove painting
Thomas Kinkade San Francisco Lombard Street painting
which was raggedly bald, he had stiff black hair, standing jaggedly all over it, and growing down hill almost to his broad, blunt nose. It was so like smith's work, so much more like the top of a strongly spiked wall than a head of hair, that the best of players at leap-frog might have declined him, as the most dangerous man in the world to go over.
While he trotted back with the message he was to deliver to the night watchman in his box at the door of Tellson's Bank, by Temple Bar, who was to deliver it to greater authorities within, the shadows of the night took such shapes to him as arose out of the message, and took such shapes to the mare as arose out of her private topics of uneasiness. They seemed to be numerous, for she shied at every shadow on the road.
What time, the mail-coach lumbered, jolted, rattled, and bumped upon its tedious way, with its three fellow-inscrutables inside. To whom, likewise, the shadows of the night revealed themselves, in the forms their dozing eyes and wandering thoughts suggested.

Thomas Kinkade London painting

Thomas Kinkade London painting
Thomas Kinkade Lombard Street painting
Durst verursachten, wollte er zu einem Brunnen gehen und trinken. Als er aber anfing zu laufen, stießen die Steine in seinem Bauch aneinander und zappelten. Da rief er:
"Was rumpelt und pumpeltIn meinem Bauch herum?Ich meinte, es wären sechs Geißelein,Doch sind's lauter Wackerstein."
Und als er an den Brunnen kam und sich über das Wasser bückte und trinken wollte, da zogen ihn die schweren Steine hinein, und er mußte jämmerlich ersaufen.
Als die sieben Geißlein das sahen, kamen sie eilig herbeigelaufen und riefen laut: "Der Wolf ist tot! Der Wolf ist tot!" Und sie faßten einander an den Händen und tanzten mit ihrer Mutter vor Freude um den Brunnen herum.

Thomas Kinkade Serenity Cove painting

Thomas Kinkade Serenity Cove painting
Thomas Kinkade San Francisco Lombard Street painting
came out of the house, who asked her who she was, and what business she had there. And she had not, as she thought, been three days with the little men in the mountains, but seven years, and in the meantime her former masters had died.
Third Tale
A certain mother had her child taken out of its cradle by the elves, and a changeling with a large head and staring eyes, which would do nothing but eat and drink, lay in its place.
In her trouble she went to her neighbor, and asked her advice. The neighbour said that she was to carry the changeling into the kitchen, set it down on the hearth, light a fire, and boil some water in two egg-shells, which would make the changeling laugh, and if he laughed, all would be over with him.

Thomas Kinkade The Hour of Prayer painting

Thomas Kinkade The Hour of Prayer painting
Thomas Kinkade The Heart of San Francisco painting
Die Frau, welche gehofft hatte, einen guten Absatz zu finden, gab ihm, was er verlangte, ging aber ganz ärgerlich und brummig fort.
"Nun, das Mus soll mir Gott gesegnen", rief das Schneiderlein, "und soll mir Kraft und Stärke geben", holte das Brot aus dem Schrank, schnitt sich ein Stück über den ganzen Laib und strich das Mus darüber. "Das wird nicht bitter schmecken", sprach er, "aber erst will ich den Wams fertigmachen, eh ich anbeiße."
Er legte das Brot neben sich, nähte weiter und machte vor Freude immer größere Stiche. Indes stieg der Geruch von dem süßen Mus hinauf an die Wand, wo die Fliegen in großer Menge saßen, so daß sie herangelockt wurden und sich scharenweis darauf niederließen.
"Ei, wer hat euch eingeladen?" sprach das Schneiderlein und jagte die ungebetenen Gäste fort. Die Fliegen aber, die kein Deutsch verstanden, ließen sich nicht abweisen, sondern kamen in immer größerer

Steve Hanks Silver Strand painting

Steve Hanks Silver Strand painting
Claude Monet The Red Boats painting
aber sein Herz ward nur noch goldgieriger. Er lie?die M黮lerstochter in eine andere Kammer voll Stroh bringen, die noch viel gr鲞er war, und befahl ihr, das auch in einer Nacht zu spinnen, wenn ihr das Leben lieb w鋜e.
Das M鋎chen wu遲e sich nicht zu helfen und weinte, da ging abermals die T黵e auf und das kleine M鋘nchen erschien und sprach: "Was gibst du mir, wenn ich dir das Stroh zu Gold spinne?"
"Meinen Ring von dem Finger," antwortete das M鋎chen.
Das M鋘nchen nahm den Ring, fing wieder an zu schnurren mit dem Rade und hatte bis zum Morgen alles Stroh zu gl鋘zendem Gold gesponnen.
Der K鰊ig freute sich 黚er die Ma遝n bei dem Anblick, war aber noch immer nicht Goldes satt, sondern lie?die M黮lerstochter in eine noch gr鲞ere Kammer voll Stroh bringen und sprach: "Die mu遲 du noch in dieser Nacht verspinnen: gelingt dir's aber, so sollst du meine Gemahlin werden."
"Wenn's auch eine M黮lerstochter ist," dachte er, "eine reichere Frau finde ich in der ganzen Welt nicht."

Alphonse Maria Mucha Untitled Alphonse Maria Mucha painting

Alphonse Maria Mucha Untitled Alphonse Maria Mucha painting
Steve Hanks Reflecting painting
Der Wolf dachte bei sich: "Das junge zarte Ding, das ist ein fetter Bissen, der wird noch besser schmecken als die Alte: du mußt es listig anfangen, damit du beide erschnappst." Da ging er ein Weilchen neben Rotkäppchen her, dann sprach er: "Rotkäppchen, sieh einmal die schönen Blumen, die ringsumher stehen, warum guckst du dich nicht um? Ich glaube, du hörst gar nicht, wie die Vöglein so lieblich singen? Du gehst ja für dich hin, als wenn du zur Schule gingst, und ist so lustig haußen in dem Wald."
Rotkäppchen schlug die Augen auf, und als es sah, wie die Sonnenstrahlen durch die Bäume hin und her tanzten und alles voll schöner Blumen stand, dachte es: "Wenn ich der Großmutter einen frischen Strauß mitbringe, der wird ihr auch Freude machen; es ist so früh am Tag, daß ich doch zu rechter Zeit ankomme", lief vom Wege ab in den Wald hinein und suchte Blumen. Und wenn es eine gebrochen hatte, meinte es, weiter hinaus stände eine schönere, und lief darnach, und geriet immer tiefer in den Wald hinein.

William Merritt Chase Chase Summertime painting

William Merritt Chase Chase Summertime painting
Albert Bierstadt Autumn Woods painting
"Ah," answered he, "let mercy take the place of justice, I only made up my mind to do it out of necessity. My wife saw your rampion from the window, and felt such a longing for it that she would have died if she had not got some to eat."
Then the enchantress allowed her anger to be softened, and said to him, "If the case be as you say, I will allow you to take away with you as much rampion as you will, only I make one condition, you must give me the child which your wife will bring into the world. It shall be well treated, and I will care for it like a mother."
The man in his terror consented to everything, and when the woman was brought to bed, the enchantress appeared at once, gave the child the name of Rapunzel, and took it away with her.
Rapunzel grew into the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was twelve years old, the

William Merritt Chase paintings

William Merritt Chase paintings
William Blake paintings
Sie erwachten erst in der finstern Nacht, und Hänsel tröstete sein Schwesterchen und sagte: "Wart nur, Gretel, bis der Mond aufgeht, dann werden wir die Brotbröcklein sehen, die ich ausgestreut habe, die zeigen uns den Weg nach Haus" Als der Mond kam, machten sie sich auf, aber sie fanden kein Bröcklein mehr, denn die viel tausend Vögel, die im Walde und im Felde umherfliegen, die hatten sie weggepickt.
Hänsel sagte zu Gretel: "Wir werden den Weg schon finden." Aber sie fanden ihn nicht. Sie gingen die ganze Nacht und noch einen Tag von Morgen bis Abend, aber sie kamen aus dem Wald nicht heraus und waren so hungrig, denn sie hatten nichts als die paar Beeren, die auf der Erde standen. Und weil sie so müde waren, daß die Beine sie nicht mehr tragen wollten, so legten sie sich unter einen Baum und schliefen ein. Nun war's schon der dritte Morgen, daß sie ihres Vaters Haus verlassen hatten. Sie fingen wieder an zu gehen, aber sie gerieten immer tiefer in den Wald, und wenn nicht bald Hilfe kam, mußten sie

Stephen Gjertson paintings

Stephen Gjertson paintings
Sir Henry Raeburn paintings
Vor einem großen Walde wohnte ein armer Holzhacker mit seiner Frau und seinen zwei Kindern; das Bübchen hieß Hänsel und das Mädchen Gretel. Er hatte wenig zu beißen und zu brechen, und einmal, als große Teuerung ins Land kam, konnte er das tägliche Brot nicht mehr schaffen.
Wie er sich nun abends im Bette Gedanken machte und sich vor Sorgen herumwälzte, seufzte er und sprach zu seiner Frau: "Was soll aus uns werden ? Wie können wir unsere armen Kinder ernähren da wir für uns selbst nichts mehr haben?"
"Weißt du was, Mann, antwortete die Frau, "wir wollen morgen in aller Frühe die Kinder hinaus in den Wald führen, wo er am dicksten ist. Da machen wir ihnen ein Feuer an und geben jedem noch ein Stückchen Brot, dann gehen wir an unsere Arbeit und lassen sie allein. Sie finden den Weg nicht wieder nach Haus, und wir sind sie los."

Jean-Honore Fragonard paintings

Jean-Honore Fragonard paintings
Jehan Georges Vibert paintings
konnte keins davon erwischen; und so hüteten sie die Gänse, bis es Abend ward.
Abends aber, nachdem sie heim gekommen waren, ging Kürdchen vor den alten König und sagte "mit dem Mädchen will ich nicht länger Gänse hüten."
"Warum denn?" fragte der alte König.
"Ei, das ärgert mich den ganzen Tag."
Da befahl ihm der alte König zu erzählen, wies ihm denn mit ihr ginge.
Da sagte Kürdchen "morgens, wenn wir unter dem finsteren Tor mit der Herde durchkommen, so ist da ein Gaulskopf an der Wand, zu dem redet sie
'O du Falada, da du hangest,'
da antwortet der Kopf
'O du Jungfer Königin, da du gangest,Wenn das deine Mutter wüßte

Claude Monet The Red Boats painting

Claude Monet The Red Boats painting
Claude Monet The Red Boats Argenteuil painting
Rings um das Schloß aber begann eine Dornenhecke zu wachsen, die jedes Jahr höher ward und endlich das ganze Schloß umzog und darüber hinauswuchs, daß gar nichts mehr davon zu sehen war, selbst nicht die Fahne auf dem Dach. Es ging aber die Sage in dem Land von dem schönen, schlafenden Dornröschen, denn so ward die Königstochter genannt, also daß von Zeit zu Zeit Königssöhne kamen und durch die Hecke in das Schloß dringen wollten. Es war ihnen aber nicht möglich, denn die Dornen, als hätten sie Hände, hielten fest zusammen, und die Jünglinge blieben darin hängen, konnten sich nicht wieder losmachen und starben eines jämmerlichen Todes.
Nach langen, langen Jahren kam wieder einmal ein Königssohn in das Land und hörte, wie ein alter Mann von der Dornenhecke erzählte, es sollte ein Schloß dahinter stehen, in welchem eine wunderschöne Königstochter, Dornröschen genannt, schon seit hundert Jahren schliefe, und mit ihr schliefe der König und die Königin und der ganze Hofstaat. Er wußte auch von seinem Großvater, daß schon viele Königssöhne gekommen wären und versucht hätten, durch die Dornenhecke zu dringen, aber sie wären darin hängengeblieben und eines traurigen Todes gestorben.

Thomas Kinkade San Francisco Lombard Street painting

Thomas Kinkade San Francisco Lombard Street painting
Thomas Kinkade San Francisco Fisherman's Wharf painting
His quarters were especially unpleasing to him, and the worst was that more and more hay was always coming in by the door, and the space grew less and less. When at length in his anguish, he cried as loud as he could, "Bring me no more fodder, bring me no more fodder!"
The maid was just milking the cow, and when she heard some one speaking, and saw no one, and perceived that it was the same voice that she had heard in the night, she was so terrified that she slipped off her stool, and spilt the milk.
She ran in great haste to her master, and said, "Oh heavens, pastor, the cow has been speaking."
"You are mad," replied the pastor, but he went himself to the byre to see what was there. Hardly, however had he set his foot inside when Tom Thumb again cried, "Bring me no more fodder, bring me no more fodder!"
Then the pastor himself was alarmed, and thought that

Thomas Kinkade Rose Gate painting

Thomas Kinkade Rose Gate painting
Thomas Kinkade Portofino painting
Die Magd melkte gerade die Kuh, und als sie sprechen hörte, ohne jemand zu sehen, und es dieselbe Stimme war, die sie auch in der Nacht gehört hatte, erschrak sie so, daß sie von ihrem Stühlchen herabglitschte und die Milch verschüttete.
Sie lief in der größten Hast zu ihrem Herrn und rief "Ach Gott, Herr Pfarrer, die Kuh hat geredet."
"Du bist verrückt," antwortete der Pfarrer, ging aber doch selbst in den Stall und wollte nachsehen, was es da gäbe. Kaum aber hatte er den Fuß hineingesetzt, so rief Daumesdick aufs neue "Bringt mir kein frisch Futter mehr, bringt mir kein frisch Futter mehr."
Da erschrak der Pfarrer selbst, meinte, es wäre ein böser Geist in die Kuh gefahren, und hieß sie töten. Sie ward geschlachtet, der Magen aber, worin Daumesdick steckte, auf den Mist geworfen. Daumesdick hatte große Mühe, sich hindurchzuarbeiten, und hatte große Mühe damit, doch brachte ers so weit, daß er Platz bekam, aber als er eben sein Haupt herausstrecken wollte, kam ein neues Unglück. Ein hungriger Wolf lief heran und verschlang den ganzen Magen mit einem Schluck. 2

China oil paintings

China oil paintings
Hause und sagte, das wäre nicht die rechte, die andere Schwester solle den Schuh anziehen. Da ging diese in die Kammer und kam mit den Zehen glücklich in den Schuh, aber die Ferse war zu groß. Da reichte ihr die Mutter ein Messer und sprach "hau ein Stück von der Ferse ab: wann du Königin bist, brauchst du nicht mehr zu Fuß zu gehen." Das Mädchen hieb ein Stück von der Ferse ab, zwängte den Fuß in den Schuh, verbiß den Schmerz und ging heraus zum Königssohn. Da nahm er sie als seine Braut aufs Pferd und ritt mit ihr fort. Als sie an dem Haselbäumchen vorbeikamen, saßen die zwei Täubchen darauf und riefen
"rucke di guck, rucke di guck, Blut ist im Schuck (Schuh): Der Schuck ist zu klein, die rechte Braut sitzt noch daheim." Er blickte nieder auf ihren Fuß und sah, wie das Blut aus dem Schuh quoll und an den weißen Strümpfen ganz rot heraufgestiegen war. Da wendete er sein Pferd und brachte die falsche Braut wieder nach Haus. "Das ist auch nicht die

Jean-Leon Gerome paintings

Jean-Leon Gerome paintings
Lorenzo Lotto paintings
The spoils were indeed very large; for, notwithstanding that much was consumed, a great deal of plate, rich armour, and splendid clothing had been secured by the exertions of the dauntless outlaws, who could be appalled by no danger when such rewards were in view. Yet so strict were the laws of their society, that no one ventured to appropriate any part of the booty, which was brought into one common mass, to be at the disposal of their leader.
The place of rendezvous was an aged oak; not, however, the same to which Locksley had conducted Gurth and Wamba in the earlier part of the story, but one which was the centre of a silvan amphitheatre, within half a mile of the demolished castle of Torquilstone. Here Locksley assumed his seat—a throne of turf erected under the twisted branches of the huge oak; and the silvan followers were gathered around him. He assigned to the Black Knight a seat at his right hand, and to Cedric a place upon his left.
“Pardon my freedom, noble sirs,” he said, “but in these glades I am monarch—they are my kingdom; and these my wild subjects would

George Owen Wynne Apperley paintings

George Owen Wynne Apperley paintings
Gustave Courbet paintings
Answer it to our lord, then, old house-fiend,” said the man, and retired; leaving Rebecca in company with the old woman, upon whose presence she had been thus unwillingly forced.
“What devil’s deed have they now in the wind?” said the old hag, murmuring to herself, yet from time to time casting a sidelong and malignant glance at Rebecca; “but it is easy to guess—bright eyes, black locks, and a skin like paper, ere the priest stains it with his black unguent. Ay, it is easy to guess why they send her to this lone turret, whence a shriek could no more be heard than at the depth of five hundred fathoms beneath the earth.—Thou wilt have owls for thy neighbours, fair one; and their screams will be heard as far, and as much regarded, as thine own. Outlandish, too,” she said, marking the dress and turban of Rebecca.—“What country art thou of?—a Saracen? or an Egyptian?—Why dost not answer?—thou canst weep, canst thou not speak?”
“Be not angry, good mother,” said Rebecca.

Edwin Austin Abbey paintings

Edwin Austin Abbey paintings
Edward Hopper paintings
descent and character, as well as their courage. The outlaws, whom the severity of the forest laws had reduced to this roving and desperate mode of life, were chiefly peasants and yeomen of Saxon descent, and were generally supposed to respect the persons and property of their countrymen.
As the travellers journeyed on their way, they were alarmed by repeated cries for assistance; and when they rode up to the place from whence they came, they were surprised to find a horse-litter placed upon the ground, beside which sat a young woman, richly dressed in the Jewish fashion, while an old man, whose yellow cap proclaimed him to belong to the same nation, walked up and down with gestures expressive of the deepest despair, and wrung his hands, as if affected by some strange disaster.
To the inquiries of Athelstane and Cedric, the old Jew could for some time only answer by invoking the protection of all the patriarchs of the Old Testament successively against the sons of Ishmael, who were coming to smite them, hip and thigh, with the edge of the sword. When he

Berthe Morisot paintings

Berthe Morisot paintings
Cheri Blum paintings
It was accordingly the Prince’s intention, which he for some time maintained, to treat these unwonted guests with a courtesy to which they had been little accustomed. But although no man with less scruple made his ordinary habits and feelings bend to his interest, it was the misfortune of this Prince, that his levity and petulance were perpetually breaking out, and undoing all that had been gained by his previous dissimulation.
Of this fickle temper he gave a memorable example in Ireland, when sent thither by his father, Henry the Second, with the purpose of buying golden opinions of the inhabitants of that new and important acquisition to the English crown. Upon this occasion the Irish chieftains contended which should first offer to the young Prince their loyal homage and the kiss of peace. But, instead of receiving their salutations with courtesy, John and his petulant attendants could not resist the temptation of pulling the long beards of the Irish chieftains; a conduct which, as might have been expected, was highly resented by these insulted dignitaries, and produced fatal consequences to the English domination in Ireland. It is necessary to keep these inconsistencies of John’s character in view, that the reader may understand his conduct during the present evening

Claude Monet The Red Boats painting

Claude Monet The Red Boats painting
Claude Monet The Red Boats Argenteuil painting knowledge is stronger than memory, and we should not trust the weaker. Even if you have not kept the good practice, let me tell you that this case of our dear miss is one that may be, mind, I say may be, of such interest to us and others that all the rest may not make him kick the beam, as your people say. Take then good note of it. Nothing is too small. I counsel you, put down in record even your doubts and surmises. Hereafter it may be of interest to you to see how true you guess. We learn from failure, not from success!”12 September.--How good they all are to me. I quite love that dear Dr. Van Helsing. I wonder why he was so anxious about these flowers. He positively frightened me, he was so fierce. And yet he must have been right, for I feel comfort from them already. Somehow, I do not dread being alone tonight, and I can go to sleep without fear. I shall not mind any flapping outside the window. Oh, the terrible struggle that I have had against sleep so often of late, the pain of sleeplessness, or the pain of the fear of sleep, and with such unknown horrors as it has for me! How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears,no dreads, to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet

Leonardo da Vinci The Last Supper painting

Leonardo da Vinci The Last Supper painting
Fabian Perez white and red painting
found my smattering of German very useful here, indeed, I don’t know how I should be able to get on without it.
Having had some time at my disposal when in London, I had visited the British Museum, and made search among the books and maps in the library regarding Transylvania; it had struck me that some foreknowledge of the country could hardly fail to have some importance in dealing with a nobleman of that country.
I find that the district he named is in the extreme east of the country, just on the borders of three states, Transylvania, Moldavia, and Bukovina, in the midst of the Carpathian mountains; one of the wildest and least known portions of Europe.
I was not able to light on any map or work giving the exact locality of the Castle Dracula, as there are no maps of this country as yet to compare with our own Ordance Survey Maps; but I found that Bistritz, the post town named by Count Dracula, is a fairly well-known place. I shall enter here some of my notes, as they may refresh my memory when I talk over my travels with Mina.

Mediterranean paintings

Mediterranean paintings
Oil Painting Gallery
She went up to her room and took from her dressing-table several small articles and put them out of sight: a nail-file on the floor under the bed; a pair of nail-scissors under the bureau; a small ivory paper- knife under the wardrobe. Then she returned, and said:
“There! I have left some things which I ought to have brought down.” She named them, and said, “Run up and bring them, dear.”
The child hurried away on his errand and was soon back again with the things.
“Did you have any difficulty, dear?”
“No, mamma; I only went where you went.”
During his absence she had stepped to the bookcase, taken several books from the bottom shelf, opened each, passed her hand over a page, noting its number in her memory, then restored them to their places. Now she said:

George Frederick Watts paintings

George Frederick Watts paintings
Guercino paintings
“Here,” said milady, rising with the majesty of a queen—“here, Felton, behold the new martyrdom invented for a young girl, pure, and yet the victim of a scoundrel’s brutality. Learn to know the hearts of men, and henceforth make yourself less easily the instrument of their unjust revenges.”
Milady, with a swift gesture, opened her dress, tore the cambric that covered her bosom, and, red with feigned anger and simulated modesty, showed the young man the ineffaceable impression which dishonoured her beautiful shoulder.
“But,” cried Felton, “it is a fleur-de-lis which I see there.”
“And therein consisted the infamy,” replied milady. “The brand of England!—it would have been necessary to prove what tribunal had

Jean-Honore Fragonard paintings

Jean-Honore Fragonard paintings
Jehan Georges Vibert paintings
Yes, verses perfumed with the odour of the note from Madame de Chevreuse’s serving-maid.”
“Oh, make yourself easy on that head,” replied Aramis; “you will find me ready to follow you.”
They took leave of each other, and ten minutes later, after commending his friend to the care of Bazin and the hostess, D’Artagnan was trotting along in the direction of Amiens.
About eleven o’clock in the morning they perceived Ameins. At half-past eleven they were at the door of the cursed inn.
D’Artagnan related to Athos how he had found Porthos and Aramis. As he finished, the landlord entered with wine and a ham.
“Good!” said Athos, filling his glass and D’Artagnan’s. “Here’s to Porthos and Aramis! But, my friend, what is the matter with you, and what has happened to you personally? You don’t look happy.”
“Alas!” said D’Artagnan, “it is because I am the most unfortunate of all.”
“You unfortunate!” said Athos. “Come! how the devil can you be unfortunate? Tell me that.”
“Presently,” said D’Artagnan.

Frederic Remington paintings

Frederic Remington paintings
Francisco de Goya paintings
Nothing, absolutely nothing at present, but to leave Paris, as I told you, as soon as possible. I will see the queen; I will relate to her the details of this poor woman’s disappearance, of which she is, no doubt, ignorant. These details will guide her on her part, and on your return I shall perhaps have some good news to tell you. Count on me.”
D’Artagnan knew that, although a Gascon, M. de Tréville was not in the habit of making promises, and that when by chance he did promise, he generally more than kept his word. He bowed to him, then, full of gratitude for the past and for the future; and the worthy captain, who, on his side, felt a lively interest in this young man who was so brave and resolute, pressed his hand affectionately, while wishing him a pleasant journey.
Determined instantly to put M. de Tréville’s advice into practice, D’Artagnan rode toward the Rue des Fossoyeurs, in order to super-intend the packing of his portmanteau. On approaching the house he perceived M. Bonacieux, in morning costume, standing at his door.

Pablo Picasso Le Moulin de la Galette painting

Pablo Picasso Le Moulin de la Galette painting
Pablo Picasso Card Player painting
There was her statement, Watson, and to me, as you can imagine, it was like a light on a dark night. Everything which had been disconnected before began at once to assume
-29-its true place, and I had a shadowy presentiment of the whole sequence of events. My next step obviously was to find the man who had produced such a remarkable impression upon Mrs. Barclay. If he were still in Aldershot it should not be a very difficult matter. There are not such a very great number of civilians, and a deformed man was sure to have attracted attention. I spent a day in the search, and by evening -- this very evening, Watson -- I had run him down. The man's name is Henry Wood, and he lives in lodgings in this same street in which the ladies met him. He has only been five days in the place. In the character of a registration-agent I had a most interesting gossip with his landlady. The man is by trade a conjurer and performer, going round the canteens after nightfall, and giving a little entertainment at each. He carries some creature about with him in that box, about which the landlady seemed to be in considerable trepidation, for she had never seen an animal like it. He uses it in some of his tricks according to her account. So much the woman was able to tell me, and also that it

Theodore Robinson Valley of the Seine Giverny painting

Theodore Robinson Valley of the Seine Giverny painting
Frederic Edwin Church North Lake painting paper was covered with the tracings of the footmarks of some small animal. It
-27-had five well-marked footpads, an indication of long nails, and the whole print might be nearly as large as a dessert-spoon.
"It's a dog," said I.
Did you ever hear of a dog running up a curtain? I found distinct traces that this creature had done so."
"A monkey, then?"
But it is not the print of a monkey."
"What can it be, then?"
Neither dog nor cat nor monkey nor any creature that we are familiar with. I have tried to reconstruct it from the measurements. Here are four prints where the beast has been standing motionless. You see that it is no less than fifteen inches from fore-foot to hind. Add to that the length of neck and head, and you get a creature not much less than two feet long -- probably more if there is any tail. But now observe this other measurement. The animal has been moving, and we have the length of its stride. In each case it is only about three inches

William Merritt Chase paintings

William Merritt Chase paintings
William Blake paintings
Very sorry, Mr. Thaddeus," said the porter inexorably. "Folk may be friends o' yours, and yet no friend o' the master's. He pays me well to do my duty, and my duty I'll do. I don't know none o' your friends."
"Oh, yes you do, McMurdo," cried Sherlock Holmes genially. "I don't think you can have forgotten me. Don't you remember that amateur who fought three rounds with you at Alison's rooms on the night of your benefit four years back?"
"Not Mr. Sherlock Holmes!" roared the prize-fighter. "God's truth! how could I have mistook you? If instead o' standin' there so quiet you had just stepped up and given me that cross-hit of yours under the jaw, I'd ha' known you without a question. Ah, you're one that has wasted your gifts, you have! You might have aimed high, if you had joined the fancy."
"You see, Watson, if all else fails me, I have still one of the scientific professions open to me," said Holmes, laughing. "Our friend won't keep us out in the cold now, I am sure."
"In you come, sir, in you come -- you and your friends," he answered. "Very sorry,

Titian paintings

Titian paintings
Theodore Chasseriau paintings
father's death Miss Morstan had turned deadly white, and for a moment I feared that she was about to faint. She rallied, however, on drinking a glass of water which I quietly poured out for her from a Venetian carafe upon the side-table. Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his chair with an abstracted expression and the lids drawn low over his glittering eyes. As I glanced at him I could not but think how on that very day he had complained bitterly of the commonplaceness of life. Here at least was a problem which would tax his sagacity to the utmost. Mr. Thaddeus Sholto looked from one to the other of us with an obvious pride at the effect which his story had produced and then continued between the puffs of his overgrown pipe.
"My brother and I," said he, "were, as you may imagine, much excited as to the treasure which my father had spoken of. For weeks and for months we dug and delved in every part of the garden without discovering its whereabouts. It was maddening to think that the hiding-place was on his very lips at the moment that he died. We could judge the splendour of the missing riches by the chaplet which he had taken out. Over this chaplet my brother Bartholomew and I had some little discussion. The pearls were evidently of great value, and he was

Julien Dupre paintings

Julien Dupre paintings
Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings
It was half-past five before Holmes returned. He was bright, eager, and in excellent spirits, a mood which in his case alternated with fits of the blackest depression.
"There is no great mystery in this matter," he said, taking the cup of tea which I had poured out for him; "the facts appear to admit of only one explanation."
"What! you have solved it already?"
"Well, that would be too much to say. I have discovered a suggestive fact, that is all. It is, however, very suggestive. The details are still to be added. I have just found, on consulting the back files of the Times, that Major Sholto, of Upper Norwood, late of the Thirty-fourth Bombay Infantry, died upon the twenty-eighth of April, 1882."
"I may be very obtuse, Holmes, but I fail to see what this suggests."
"No? You surprise me. Look at it in this way, then. Captain Morstan disappears. The only person in London whom he could have visited is Major Sholto. Major Sholto denies having

William Bouguereau Birth of Venus painting

William Bouguereau Birth of Venus painting
William Bouguereau The Virgin with Angels painting
O, pardon me, Signior Gremio; I would fain be doing.
GREMIO
I doubt it not, sir; but you will curse yourwooing. Neighbour, this is a gift very grateful, I amsure of it. To express the like kindness, myself,that have been more kindly beholding to you thanany, freely give unto you this young scholar,
[Presenting LUCENTIO]
that hath been long studying at Rheims; as cunningin Greek, Latin, and other languages, as the otherin music and mathematics: his name is Cambio; pray,accept his service.
BAPTISTA
A thousand thanks, Signior Gremio.Welcome, good Cambio.
[To TRANIO]
But, gentle sir, methinks you walk like a stranger:may I be so bold to know the cause of your coming?

John Singer Sargent Sargent Poppies painting

John Singer Sargent Sargent Poppies painting
Pino Soft Light painting
Good morrow, neighbour Gremio.God save you, gentlemen!
PETRUCHIO
And you, good sir! Pray, have you not a daughterCall'd Katharina, fair and virtuous?
BAPTISTA
I have a daughter, sir, called Katharina.
GREMIO
You are too blunt: go to it orderly.
PETRUCHIO
You wrong me, Signior Gremio: give me leave.I am a gentleman of Verona, sir,That, hearing of her beauty and her wit,Her affability and bashful modesty,Her wondrous qualities and mild behavior,Am bold to show myself a forward guestWithin your house, to make mine eye the witnessOf that report which I so oft have heard.And, for an entrance to my entertainment,I do present you with a man of mine,
[Presenting HORTENSIO]
Cunning in music and the mathematics,To instruct her fully in those sciences,Whereof I know she is not ignorant:Accept of him, or else you do me wrong:His name is Licio, born in Mantua.

Claude Monet La Japonaise painting

Claude Monet La Japonaise painting
Pablo Picasso The Old Guitarist painting
It was a warm June morning, and the Latter Day Saints were as busy as the bees whose hive they have chosen for their emblem. In the fields and in the streets rose the same hum of human industry. Down the dusty high roads defiled long streams of heavily laden mules, all heading to the west, for the gold fever had broken out in California, and the overland route lay through the city of the Elect. There, too, were droves of sheep and bullocks coming in from the outlying pasture lands, and trains of tired immigrants, men and horses equally weary of their interminable journey. Through all this motley assemblage, threading her way with the skill of an accomplished rider, there galloped Lucy Ferrier, her fair face flushed with the exercise and her long chestnut hair floating out behind her. She had a commission from her father in the city, and was dashing in as she had done many a time before, with all the fearlessness of youth, thinking only of her task and how it was to be performed. The travel-stained adventurers gazed after her in astonishment, and even the unemotional Indians, journeying in with their peltries, relaxed their accustomed stoicism as they marvelled at the beauty of the pale-faced maiden.
She had reached the outskirts of the city when she found the road blocked by a great drove of cattle, driven

Maxfield Parrish paintings

Maxfield Parrish paintings
Martin Johnson Heade paintings
dining parlour. She then joined them soon enough to see Lydia, with anxious parade, walk up to her mother's right hand, and hear her say to her eldest sister, ``Ah! Jane, I take your place now, and you must go lower, because I am a married woman.''
It was not to be supposed that time would give Lydia that embarrassment from which she had been so wholly free at first. Her ease and good spirits increased. She longed to see Mrs. Phillips, the Lucases,ELIZABETH had the satisfaction of receiving an answer to her letter as soon as she possibly could. She was no sooner in possession of it than, hurrying into the little copse, where she was least likely to be interrupted, she sat down on one of the benches and prepared to be happy; for the length of the letter convinced her that it did not contain a denial.
``Gracechurch-street, Sept. 6.
MY DEAR NIECE,

Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovsky paintings

Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovsky paintings
Il'ya Repin paintings
by no means over. Miss Darcy, on her brother's entrance, exerted herself much more to talk; and Elizabeth saw that he was anxious for his sister and herself to get acquainted, and forwarded, as much as possible, every attempt at conversation on either side. Miss ELIZABETH had been a good deal disappointed in not finding a letter from Jane on their first arrival at Lambton; and this disappointment had been renewed on each of the mornings that had now been spent there; but on the third, her repining was over, and her sister justified, by the receipt of two letters from her at once, on one of which was marked that it had been missent elsewhere. Elizabeth was not surprised at it, as Jane had written the direction remarkably ill.
They had just been preparing to walk as the letters came in; and her uncle and aunt, leaving her to enjoy them in quiet, set off by themselves. The one missent must be first attended to; it had been written five days ago. The beginning contained an account of all their little parties and engagements, with such news as the country afforded; but the latter half, which was dated a day later, and written in evident agitation, gave more important intelligence. It was to this effect:

Georgia O'Keeffe paintings

Georgia O'Keeffe paintings
Gustave Clarence Rodolphe Boulanger paintings
lest the partiality of the brother should have said too much in her favour; and more than commonly anxious to please, she naturally suspected that every power of pleasing would fail her.
She retreated from the window, fearful of being seen; and as she walked up and down the room, endeavouring to compose herself, saw such looks of enquiring surprise in her uncle and aunt as made every thing worse.
Miss Darcy and her brother appeared, and this formidable introduction took place. With astonishment did Elizabeth see that her new acquaintance was at least as much embarrassed as herself. Since her being at Lambton, she had heard that Miss Darcy was exceedingly proud; but the observation of a very few minutes convinced her that she was only exceedingly shy. She found it difficult to obtain even a word from her beyond a monosyllable.

Anne-Francois-Louis Janmot paintings

Anne-Francois-Louis Janmot paintings
Allan R.Banks paintings
``But,'' he added, ``you will of course wish to have your humble respects delivered to them, with your grateful thanks for their kindness to you while you have been here.''
Elizabeth made no objection; -- the door was then allowed to be shut, and the carriage drove off.IT was the second week in May in which the three young ladies set out together from Gracechurch- street for the town of ---- in Hertfordshire; and, as they drew near the appointed inn where Mr. Bennet's carriage was to meet them, they quickly perceived, in token of the coachman's punctuality, both Kitty and Lydia looking out of a dining room upstairs. These two girls had been above an hour in the place, happily employed in visiting an opposite milliner, watching the sentinel on guard, and dressing a sallad and cucumber.
After welcoming their sisters, they triumphantly displayed a table set out with such cold meat as an inn larder usually affords, exclaiming, ``Is not this nice? is not this an agreeable surprise?''

Jacques-Louis David paintings

Jacques-Louis David paintings
John Everett Millais paintings
excellent reason for what she did, for Mr. Collins would undoubtedly have been much less in his own apartment, had they sat in one equally lively; and she gave Charlotte credit for the arrangement.
From the drawing room they could distinguish nothing in the lane, and were indebted to Mr. Collins for the knowledge of what carriages went along, and how often especially Miss De Bourgh drove by in her phaeton, which he never failed coming to inform them of, though it happened almost every day. She not unfrequently stopped at the Parsonage, and had a few minutes' conversation with Charlotte, but was scarcely ever prevailed on to get out.
Very few days passed in which Mr. Collins did not walk to Rosings, and not many in which his wife did not think it necessary to go likewise; and till Elizabeth recollected that there might be other family livings to be disposed of, she could not understand the sacrifice of so many hours. Now

Albert Bierstadt Among the Sierra Nevada Mountains California painting

Albert Bierstadt Among the Sierra Nevada Mountains California painting
Albert Bierstadt Autumn in America Oneida County New York painting
MR. COLLINS was not a sensible man, and the deficiency of nature had been but little assisted by education or society; the greatest part of his life having been spent under the guidance of an illiterate and miserly father; and though he belonged to one of the universities, he had merely kept the necessary terms, without forming at it any useful acquaintance. The subjection in which his father had brought him up had given him originally great humility of manner, but it was now a good deal counteracted by the self-conceit of a weak head, living in retirement, and the consequential feelings of early and unexpected prosperity. A fortunate chance had recommended him to Lady Catherine de Bourgh when the living of Hunsford was vacant; and the respect which he felt for her high rank and his veneration for her as his patroness, mingling with a very good opinion of himself, of his authority as a clergyman, and his rights as a rector, made him altogether a mixture of pride and obsequiousness, self-importance and humility.

Steve Hanks Blending Into Shadows Sheets painting

Steve Hanks Blending Into Shadows Sheets painting
Gustav Klimt Klimt Sappho painting
AT five o'clock the two ladies retired to dress, and at half past six Elizabeth was summoned to dinner. To the civil enquiries which then poured in, and amongst which she had the pleasure of distinguishing the much superior solicitude of Mr. Bingley's, she could not make a very favourable answer. Jane was by no means better. The sisters, on hearing this, repeated three or four times how much they were grieved, how shocking it was to have a bad cold, and how excessively they disliked being ill themselves, and then thought no more of the matter; and their indifference towards Jane, when not immediately before them, restored Elizabeth to the enjoyment of all her original dislike.
Their brother, indeed, was the only one of the party whom she could regard with any complacency. His anxiety for Jane was evident, and his attentions to herself most pleasing, and they prevented her feeling herself so much an intruder as she believed she was considered by the others. She had very little notice from any but him. Miss Bingley was engrossed by Mr. Darcy, her sister scarcely less so; and as for Mr. Hurst, by

painting in oil

painting in oil
generally evident whenever they met, that he did admire her; and to her it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference which she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a way to be very much in love; but she considered with pleasure that it was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Jane united with great strength of feeling a composure of temper and a uniform cheerfulness of manner, which would guard her from the suspicions of the impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend Miss Lucas.
``It may perhaps be pleasant,'' replied Charlotte, ``to be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him; and it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all begin freely -- a slight preference is natural enough; but there are very few of us who have heart enough

Steve Hanks Reflecting painting

Steve Hanks Reflecting painting
guan zeju guan-zeju-25 painting
More strange than true: I never may believeThese antique fables, nor these fairy toys.Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,Such shaping fantasies, that apprehendMore than cool reason ever comprehends.The lunatic, the lover and the poetAre of imagination all compact:One sees more devils than vast hell can hold,That is, the madman: the lover, all as frantic,Sees Helen's beauty in a brow of Egypt:The poet's eye, in fine frenzy rolling,Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;And as imagination bodies forthThe forms of things unknown, the poet's penTurns them to shapes and gives to airy nothingA local habitation and a name.Such tricks hath strong imagination,That if it would but apprehend some joy,It comprehends some bringer of that joy;Or in the night, imagining some fear,How easy is a bush supposed a bear!
HIPPOLYTA
But all the story of the night told over,And all their minds transfigured so together,More witnesseth than fancy's imagesAnd grows to something of great constancy;But, howsoever, strange and admirable.

childe hassam Geraniums painting

childe hassam Geraniums painting
Vincent van Gogh Cafe Terrace at Night painting
Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed,While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head,And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.
BOTTOM
Where's Peaseblossom?
PEASEBLOSSOM
Ready. Mounsieur Cobweb, good mounsieur, get you yourweapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hippedhumble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, goodmounsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fretyourself too much in the action, mounsieur; and,good mounsieur, have a care the honey-bag break not;I would be loath to have you overflown with ahoney-bag, signior. Where's Mounsieur Mustardseed?
Give me your neaf, Mounsieur Mustardseed. Pray you,leave your courtesy, good mounsieur.
MUSTARDSEED
What's your Will?
BOTTOM
Nothing, good mounsieur, but to help Cavalery Cobwebto scratch. I must to the barber's, monsieur; formethinks I am marvellous hairy about the face; and Iam such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me,I must scratch.

Seignac L'Abandon painting

Klimt The Kiss (Le Baiser _ Il Baccio) painting
Seignac L'Abandon painting was beset with shame and courtesy;My honour would not let ingratitudeSo much besmear it. Pardon me, good lady;For, by these blessed candles of the night,Had you been there, I think you would have begg'dThe ring of me to give the worthy doctor.
PORTIA
Let not that doctor e'er come near my house:Since he hath got the jewel that I loved,And that which you did swear to keep for me,I will become as liberal as you;I'll not deny him any thing I have,No, not my body nor my husband's bed:Know him I shall, I am well sure of it:Lie not a night from home; watch me like Argus:If you do not, if I be left alone,Now, by mine honour, which is yet mine own,I'll have that doctor for my bedfellow.
NERISSA
And I his clerk; therefore be well advisedHow you do leave me to mine own protection.
GRATIANO
Well, do you so; let not me take him, then;For if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen.

Knight Knight Picking Flowers painting

Knight Knight Picking Flowers painting
Cot The Storm painting
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear,And draw her home with music.
[Music]
JESSICA
I am never merry when I hear sweet music.
LORENZO
The reason is, your spirits are attentive:For do but note a wild and wanton herd,Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,Which is the hot condition of their blood;If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound,Or any air of music touch their ears,You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gazeBy the sweet power of music: therefore the poetDid feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones and floods;Since nought so stockish, hard and full of rage,But music for the time doth change his nature.The man that hath no music in himself,Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils;The motions of his spirit are dull as nightAnd his affections dark as Erebus:Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music.
[Enter PORTIA and NERISSA]

David Napoleon at the St. Bernard Pass painting

David Napoleon at the St. Bernard Pass painting
Hanks Silver Strand painting
Monet La Japonaise painting
Perez Tango painting You have a noble and a true conceitOf godlike amity; which appears most stronglyIn bearing thus the absence of your lord.But if you knew to whom you show this honour,How true a gentleman you send relief,How dear a lover of my lord your husband,I know you would be prouder of the workThan customary bounty can enforce you.
PORTIA
I never did repent for doing good,Nor shall not now: for in companionsThat do converse and waste the time together,Whose souls do bear an equal yoke Of love,There must be needs a like proportionOf lineaments, of manners and of spirit;Which makes me think that this Antonio,Being the bosom lover of my lord,Must needs be like my lord. If it be so,How little is the cost I have bestow'dIn purchasing the semblance of my soulFrom out the state of hellish misery!This comes too near the praising of myself;Therefore no more of it: hear other things.Lorenzo, I commit into your handsThe husbandry and manage of my houseUntil my lord's return: for mine own part,I have toward heaven breathed a secret vowTo live in prayer and contemplation,Only attended by Nerissa here,Until her husband and my lord's return:There is a monastery two miles off;And there will we abide. I do desire youNot to deny this imposition;The which my love and some necessityNow lays upon you.

Francisco de Zurbaran paintings

Francisco de Zurbaran paintings
Gustav Klimt paintings
Georgia O'Keeffe paintings
Gustave Clarence Rodolphe Boulanger paintings
And I have reason for it. Signior AntonioCommends him to you.
[Gives Bassanio a letter]
BASSANIO
Ere I ope his letter,I pray you, tell me how my good friend doth.
SALERIO
Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind;Nor well, unless in mind: his letter thereWill show you his estate.
GRATIANO
Nerissa, cheer yon stranger; bid her welcome.Your hand, Salerio: what's the news from Venice?How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio?I know he will be glad of our success;We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece.
SALERIO
I would you had won the fleece that he hath lost.
PORTIA
There are some shrewd contents in yon same paper,That steals the colour from Bassanio's cheek:Some dear friend dead; else nothing in the worldCould turn so much the constitutionOf any constant man. What, worse and worse!With leave, Bassanio: I am half yourself,And I must freely have the half of anythingThat this same paper brings you.

Alexandre Cabanel paintings

Alexandre Cabanel paintings
Anders Zorn paintings
Anne-Francois-Louis Janmot paintings
Allan R.Banks paintings
SHYLOCK
How now, Tubal! what news from Genoa? hast thoufound my daughter?
TUBAL
I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot find her.
SHYLOCK
Why, there, there, there, there! a diamond gone,cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfort! The cursenever fell upon our nation till now; I never felt ittill now: two thousand ducats in that; and otherprecious, precious jewels. I would my daughterwere dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear!would she were hearsed at my foot, and the ducats inher coffin! No news of them? Why, so: and I knownot what's spent in the search: why, thou loss uponloss! the thief gone with so much, and so much tofind the thief; and no satisfaction, no revenge:nor no in luck stirring but what lights on myshoulders; no sighs but of my breathing; no tearsbut of my shedding.
TUBAL
Yes, other men have ill luck too: Antonio, as Iheard in Genoa, --
SHYLOCK
What, what, what? ill luck, ill luck?

Jules Breton paintings

Jules Breton paintings
Johannes Vermeer paintings
Jacques-Louis David paintings
John Everett Millais paintings
Who are you? Tell me, for more certainty,Albeit I'll swear that I do know your tongue.
LORENZO
Lorenzo, and thy love.
JESSICA
Lorenzo, certain, and my love indeed,For who love I so much? And now who knowsBut you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?
LORENZO
Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that thou art.
JESSICA
Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains.I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me,For I am much ashamed of my exchange:But love is blind and lovers cannot seeThe pretty follies that themselves commit;For if they could, Cupid himself would blushTo see me thus transformed to a boy.

Vinci da Vinci Mona Lisa painting

Vinci da Vinci Mona Lisa painting
Vermeer girl with the pearl earring painting
Godward Nu Sur La Plage painting
Perez white and red painting
His master and he, saving your worship's reverence,are scarce cater-cousins --
LAUNCELOT
To be brief, the very truth is that the Jew, havingdone me wrong, doth cause me, as my father, being, Ihope, an old man, shall frutify unto you --
GOBBO
I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow uponyour worship, and my suit is --
LAUNCELOT
In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myself, asyour worship shall know by this honest old man; and,though I say it, though old man, yet poor man, my father.
BASSANIO
One speak for both. What would you?
LAUNCELOT
Serve you, sir.
GOBBO
That is the very defect of the matter, sir.
BASSANIO
I know thee well; thou hast obtain'd thy suit:Shylock thy master spoke with me this day,And hath preferr'd thee, if it be prefermentTo leave a rich Jew's service, to becomeThe follower of so poor a gentleman.

Edward hopper paintings

Edward hopper paintings
Mary Cassatt paintings
gustav klimt paintings
oil painting reproduction
Though Edna had spoken of the dinner as a very grand affair, it was in truth a very small affair and very select, in so much as the guests invited were few and were selected with discrimination. She had counted upon an even dozen seating themselves at her round mahogany board, forgetting for the moment that Madame Ratignolle was to the last degree souffranteand unpresentable, and not foreseeing that Madame Lebrun would send a thousand regrets at the last moment. So there were only ten, after all, which made a cozy, comfortable number.
There were Mr. and Mrs. Merriman, a pretty, vivacious little woman in the thirties; her husband, a jovial fellow, something of a shallow-pate, who laughed a good deal at other people's witticisms, and had thereby made himself extremely popular. Mrs. Highcamp had accompanied them. Of course, there was Alcée Arobin; and
-226-Mademoiselle Reisz had consented to come. Edna had sent her a fresh bunch of violets with black lace trimmings for her hair. Monsieur Ratignolle brought himself and his wife's excuses. Victor Lebrun, who happened to be in the city, bent upon relaxation, had accepted with alacrity. There was a Miss Mayblunt, no longer in her teens, who looked at the world

Peder Mork Monsted paintings

Peder Mork Monsted paintings
Pierre Auguste Renoir paintings
Peder Severin Kroyer paintings
Pieter de Hooch paintings
wanted her white neck a mite less full or her beautiful arms more slender. Never were hands more exquisite than hers, and it was a joy to look at them when she threaded her needle or adjusted her gold thimble to her taper middle finger as she sewed away on the little night-drawers or fashioned a bodice or a bib.
Madame Ratignolle was very fond of Mrs. Pontellier, and often she took her sewing and went over to sit with her in the afternoons. She was sitting there the afternoon of the day the box arrived from New Orleans. She had possession of the rocker, and she was busily engaged in sewing upon a diminutive pair of night-drawers.
She had brought the pattern of the draw
-21-ers for Mrs. Pontellier to cut out -- a marvel of construction, fashioned to enclose a baby's body so effectually that only two small eyes might look out from the garment, like an Eskimo's. They were designed for winter wear, when treacherous drafts came down chimneys and insidious currents of deadly cold found their way through key-holes.

Martin Johnson Heade paintings

Martin Johnson Heade paintings
Nancy O'Toole paintings
Philip Craig paintings
Paul McCormack paintings
wings when any harm, real or imaginary, threatened their precious brood. They were women who idolized their children, worshiped their husbands, and esteemed it a holy privilege to efface themselves as individuals and grow wings as ministering angels.
Many of them were delicious in the role; one of them was the embodiment of every womanly grace and charm. If her husband did not adore her, he was a brute, deserving of death by slow torture. Her name was Adèle Ratignolle. There are no words to describe her save the old ones that have served so often to picture the bygone heroine of romance and the fair lady of our dreams. There was nothing subtle or hidden about her charms; her beauty was all there, flaming and apparent: the
-20-spun-gold hair that comb nor confining pin could restrain; the blue eyes that were like nothing but sapphires; two lips that pouted, that were so red one could only think of cherries or some other delicious crimson fruit in looking at them. She was growing a little stout, but it did not seem to detract an iota from the grace of every step, pose, gesture. One would not have

Mark Rothko paintings

Mark Rothko paintings
Montague Dawson paintings
Mary Cassatt paintings
Maxfield Parrish paintings
It would have been a difficult matter for Mr. Pontellier to define to his own satisfaction or any one else's wherein his wife failed in her duty toward their children. It was something which he felt rather than perceived, and he never voiced the feeling without subsequent regret and ample atonement.
If one of the little Pontellier boys took a tumble whilst at play, he was not apt to rush crying to his mother's arms for comfort; he would more likely pick himself up, wipe the water out of his eves and the sand out of his mouth, and go on playing. Tots as they were, they pulled together and stood their ground in childish battles with doubled fists and uplifted voices, which usually prevailed against the other mother-tots. The quadroon nurse was looked upon as a huge encumbrance, only good to button up waists and panties and to brush and
-19-part hair; since it seemed to be a law of society that hair must be parted and brushed.
In short, Mrs. Pontellier was not a mother-woman. The mother-women seemed to prevail that summer at Grand Isle. It was easy to know them, fluttering about with extended, protectin

Rivera Portrait of Natasha Zakolkowa Gelman painting

Rivera Portrait of Natasha Zakolkowa Gelman painting
Dali The Rose painting
Gogh Starry Night over the Rhone painting
Gogh Irises painting
What was he doing while shut up thus? With what thoughts was the unhappy man contending. Was he making a last stand against his fatal passion — combining some final plan of death for her and perdition for himself?
His Jehan, his beloved brother, his spoiled darling, came once to his door and knocked, swore, entreated, told his name a dozen times over. The door remained closed.
He passed whole days with his face pressed against his window, for from thence he could see the cell of Esmeralda, and often the girl herself with her goat, sometimes with Quasimodo. He remarked the deaf hunchback’s assiduities, his obedience, his delicate and submissive ways with the gipsy. He remembered — for he had a long memory, and memory is the scourge of the jealous — the peculiar look the bell–ringer had fixed upon the dancing girl on a certain evening, and he asked himself what motive could have urged Quasimodo to save her. He was witness of a thousand little scenes between the gipsy and the hunchback, the pantomime of which, seen at that distance and commented on by his passion, seemed very tender to him. He mistrusted the capricious fancy of woman. And presently he was vaguely conscious of entertaining a jealousy such as he never could have anticipated — a jealousy that made him redden with shame and indignation.

Vinci Mona Lisa Painting painting

Vinci Mona Lisa Painting painting
Bouguereau The Rapture of Psyche painting
Cot The Storm painting
Cot Springtime painting
again, for a single minute, it needed but a word, a look, to undeceive him, to bring him back to her. She did not doubt it for a moment. She closed her eyes to the meaning of various singular things, or put a plausible construction on them: the chance presence of Phœbus on the day of her penance, the lady who stood beside him — his sister, no doubt. The explanation was most unlikely, but she contented herself with it because she wished to believe that Phœbus still loved her, and her alone. Had he not sworn it to her? And what more did she need — simple and credulous creature that she was? Besides, throughout the whole affair, were not appearances far more strongly against her than against him? So she waited — she hoped.
Added to this, the church itself, the vast edifice wrapping her round on all sides, protecting, saving her, was a sovereign balm. The solemn lines of its architecture, the religious attitude of all the objects by which the girl was surrounded, the serene and pious thoughts that breathed, so to speak, from every pore of these venerable stones, acted upon her unceasingly. Sounds arose from it, too, of such blessedness and such majesty that they soothed that tortured spirit. The monotonous chants of the priests and the responses of the people — sometimes an

Perez Tango painting

Perez Tango painting
Vinci The Last Supper painting
Picasso The Old Guitarist painting
abstract 92187 painting
Meanwhile public talk had acquainted the Archdeacon with the miraculous manner in which the gipsy girl had been saved. He knew not what his feelings were when he learned this. He had reconciled himself to the thought of Esmeralda’s death, and so had regained some peace of mind — he had touched the depths of possible affliction. The human heart (and Dom Claude had meditated upon these matters) cannot hold more than a given quantity of despair. When the sponge is soaked, an ocean may pass over it without its absorbing one drop more.
Now Esmeralda dead, the sponge was full; the last word had been said for Dom Claude on this earth. But to know her living, and Phœbus too, was to take up his martyrdom, his pangs, his schemes and alternatives — in short, his whole life again. And Claude was weary of it all.
When he learned the news, he shut himself up in his cell in the cloister. He did not appear at the conferences of the chapter, nor at any of the services of the church, and closed his door to every one, even the bishop. He kept himself thus immured for several weeks. He was judged to be ill, as indeed he was.

Rembrandt Christ in the storm

Rembrandt Christ in the storm

The on the lake depicts the miracle of Jesus calming the waves on the Sea of Galilee (now modern Israel), as depicted in fourth chapter of the Gospel of Mark in the New Testament of the Christian Bible. It is Rembrandt's only seascape.
If you want to purchcase a handmad reproduction of Rembrandt Christ in the storm,please tell me.
I bring you a nice recreation.