Waverly Novels: Redgauntlet

الغلاف الأمامي
Ticknor and Fields, 1864

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الصفحة 113 - And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture; let us swear That you are worth your breeding— which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
الصفحة 92 - does he blench from the helm when the wind blows highest ! " '•He blenches not — he blenches not," said Rebecca. "I see him now : he heads a body of men close under the outer barrier of the barbican. They pull down. the piles and palisades; they hew down the barriers with axes. His high, black plume floats abroad over the throng like a raven over the field of the slain. They have made a breach in the barriers ; they rush in ; they are thrust back. Front-de-Boeuf heads the defenders : I see his...
الصفحة 94 - exclaimed Rebecca — " and they press the besieged hard upon the outer wall ; some plant ladders, some swarm like bees, and endeavour to ascend upon the shoulder of each other — down go stones, beams, and trunks of trees upon their heads, and as fast as they bear the wounded to the rear, fresh men supply their places in the assault — Great God ! hast thou given men thine own image, that it should be thus cruelly defaced by the hands of their brethren ! "
الصفحة 90 - Seem there no other leaders?" exclaimed the anxious inquirer. " None of mark and distinction that I can behold from this station," said Rebecca ; " but doubtless the other side of the castle is also assailed.
الصفحة 94 - O men, if ye be indeed men, spare them that can resist no longer!" "The bridge - the bridge which communicates with the castle - have they won that pass?
الصفحة 42 - But I have griefs of other kind, Troubles and sorrows more severe ; Give me to ease my tortured mind, \ Lend to my woes a patient ear ; And let me, if I may not find A friend to help— find one to hear.
الصفحة 93 - Knight," answered Rebecca, faintly ; then instantly again shouted with joyful eagerness — " But no — but no ! — the name of the Lord of Hosts be blessed ! — he is on foot again, and fights as if there were twenty men's strength in his single arm — His sword is broken — he snatches an axe from a yeoman — he presses Front-de-Boeuf with blow on blow — The giant stoops and totters like an oak under the steel of the woodman — he falls — he falls !" " Front-de-Boeuf !

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