The History of the Ingenious Gentleman, Don Quixote of La Mancha ...

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Hurst, Robinson, and Company, 1822
 

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Стр. 162 - The wife that expects to have a good name Is always at home, as if she were lame : And the maid that is honest, her chiefest delight Is still to be doing from morning to night.
Стр. 151 - I to be satisfied ready cash for every one, a hundred pieces of gold more would not pay for half of them ; and therefore let every man...
Стр. 296 - But when the Moslem saw him, they stood in firm array, He rode among their armed throng, he rode right furiously ; " Stand, stand, ye thieves and robbers, lay down my lady's pledge," He cried ; and ever as he cried they felt his falchion's edge.
Стр. 286 - A prose ; yet it would appear from two lines in Ovid's Tristia, that some of them, at least, had been written in verse : — ' Junxit Aristides Milesia carmina secum — Pulsus Aristides nee tamen urbe sua est.
Стр. 320 - The jailer put his mantle on and came unto the King, He found him sitting on the throne within his listed ring ; Close to his ear he planted him, and the story did begin, How bold Guarinos vaunted him the spearman's prize to win.
Стр. 321 - I HAD six Moorish nurses, but the seventh was not a Moor, The Moors they gave me milk enow, but the Christian gave me lore ; And she told me ne'er to listen, though sweet the words might be, Till he that spake had proved his troth, and pledged a gallant fee.
Стр. 319 - This is the joyful morning of John the Baptist's day, When Moor and Christian feasts at home, each in his nation's way; But now our king commands that none his banquet shall begin, Until some knight, by strength or sleight, the spearman's prize do win.
Стр. 320 - Now this will be a sight indeed,, to see the enfeebled lord Essay to mount that ragged steed, and draw that rusty sword ; And for the vaunting of his phrase he well deserves to die, So, jailer, gird his harness on, and bring your champion nigh.
Стр. 318 - Marlotes, in his joy and pride, a target high doth rear, — Below the Moorish knights must ride, and pierce it with the spear ; But 'tis so high up in the sky, albeit much they strain, No Moorish lance so far may fly, Marlotes
Стр. 323 - When the Emperor had heard the Moor, full red was his old cheek, "Go back, base cur, upon the spur, for I am he you seek — Go back, and tell your master to commend him to Mahoun, For his soul shall dwell with him in hell, or ere yon sun go down. ":Mine arm is weak, my hairs are grey...

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