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An absorbing story of love and adventure in France of the early seventeenth century.
Mr. Caryll, lately from Rome, stood by the window, looking out over the rainswept, steaming quays to Notre Dame on the island yonder. Overhead rolled and crackled the artillery of an April thunderstorm, and Mr. Caryll, looking out upon Paris in her shroud of rain, under her pall of thundercloud, felt himself at harmony with Nature. Over his heart, too, the gloom of storm was lowering, just as in his heart it was still little more than April time. Behind him, in that chamber furnished in dark oak and leather of a reign or two ago, sat Sir Richard Everard at a vast writing-table all a-litter with books and papers; and Sir Richard watched his adoptive son with fierce, melancholy eyes, watched him until he grew impatient of this pause. "Well?" demanded the old baronet harshly. "Will you undertake it, Justin, now that the chance has come?" And he added: "You'll never hesitate if you are the man I have sought to make you." Mr. Caryll turned slowly. "It is because I am the man that you-that God and you-have made me that I do hesitate." His voice was quiet and pleasantly modulated, and he spoke English with the faintest slur-perceptible, perhaps, only to the keenest ear-of a French accent. To ears less keen it would merely seem that he articulated with a precision so singular as to verge on pedantry.
It was not to be his good fortune, however, to be in the earlier work of the day. Until afternoon he was kept within the walls of Worcester, chafing to be where hard knocks were being dealt - with Montgomery at Powick Bridge, or with Pittscottie on Bunn's Hill. But he was forced to hold his mood in curb, and wait until Charles and his advisers should elect to make the general attack.
This Is A New Release Of The Original 1921 Edition.
"In approaching The Historical Nights' Entertainment I set myself the task of reconstructing, in the fullest possible detail and with all the color available from surviving records, a group of more or less famous events. I would select for my purpose those which were in themselves bizarre and resulting from the interplay of human passions, and whilst relating each of these events in the form of a story, I would compel that story scrupulously to follow the actual, recorded facts without owing anything to fiction, and I would draw upon my imagination, if at all, merely as one might employ color to fill in the outlines which history leaves grey, taking care that my color should be as true to nature as possible. For dialogue I would depend upon such scraps of actual speech as were chronicled in each case, amplifying it by translating into terms of speech the paraphrases of contemporary chroniclers."
This is no Chronicle of Saints. Nor yet is it a History of Devils. It is a record of certain very human, strenuous men in a very human, strenuous age; a lustful, flamboyant age; an age red with blood and pale with passion at white-heat; an age of steel and velvet, of vivid colour, dazzling light and impenetrable shadow; an age of swift movement, pitiless violence and high endeavour, of sharp antitheses and amazing contrasts.
This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the original. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions that are true to the original work.
And in that you have most probably the origin of the famous secret poison of the Borgias. Having been invented to fit the alleged poisoning of Prince Djem, which it was desired to fasten upon the Pope by hook or by crook, it was found altogether too valuable an invention not to be used again. By means of it, it became possible to lay almost any death in the world at the door of Alexander.
Giacomo di Casanova, the greatest of Italian-perhaps of all-adventurers, was born in Venice in April of 1725, the son of an actor of the San Samuele Theatre and the lovely daughter of a Venetian cobbler, who, as a result of her marriage, became herself an actress of some note. Clever, unscrupulous, and audacious, well-endowed by nature with a good exterior, a magnetic personality and a lively wit, he chose to make the world his oyster. By temperament something of a poet, something of a philosopher, something of a soldier, and entirely a gamester in every sense, he was a rogue by accident rather than design. A doctor of canon law, he knew Horace by heart, was familiar with natural science, richly stored with unusual knowledge, and as learned in the tricks of sharpers of all degrees.
In seeking other than in myself-as men will-the causes of my tribulations, I have often inclined to lay the blame of much of the ill that befell me, and the ill that in my sinful life I did to others, upon those who held my mother at the baptismal font and concerted that she should bear the name of Monica. There are in life many things which, in themselves, seeming to the vulgar and the heedless to be trivial and without consequence, may yet be causes pregnant of terrible effects, mainsprings of Destiny itself. Amid such portentous trifles I would number the names so heedlessly bestowed upon us.
We are happy to announce this classic book. Many of the books in our collection have not been published for decades and are therefore not broadly available to the readers. Our goal is to access the very large literary repository of general public books. The main contents of our entire classical books are the original works. To ensure high quality products, all the titles are chosen carefully by our staff. We hope you enjoy this classic.
Thank you for checking out this book by Theophania Publishing. We appreciate your business and look forward to serving you soon. We have thousands of titles available, and we invite you to search for us by name, contact us via our website, or download our most recent catalogues. Then drink it thus, cried the rash young fool, and splashed the contents of his cup full into the face of Mr. Wilding even as that gentleman, on his feet, was proposing to drink to the eyes of the young fool's sister. The moments that followed were full of interest. A stillness, a brooding, expectant stillness, fell upon the company-and it numbered a round dozen-about Lord Gervase's richly appointed board. In the soft candlelight the oval table shone like a deep brown pool, in which were reflected the gleaming silver and sparkling crystal that seemed to float upon it. Blake sucked in his nether-lip, his florid face a thought less florid than its wont, his prominent blue eyes a thought more prominent. Under its golden periwig old Nick Trenchard's wizened countenance was darkened by a scowl, and his fingers, long, swarthy, and gnarled, drummed fretfully upon the table. Portly Lord Gervase Scoresby-their host, a benign and placid man of peace, detesting turbulence-turned crimson now in wordless rage. The others gaped and stared-some at young Westmacott, some at the man he had so grossly affronted-whilst in the shadows of the hall a couple of lacqueys looked on amazed, all teeth and eyes.
Rafael Sabatini struggled for years as a writer before striking it big with his fabulous historical fiction stories. His breakthrough came with "Scaramouche" in 1921. Immediately following this novel was "Captain Blood." These two books alone sealed Sabatini's success with an audience hungry for adventure tales. Sabatini's fictional endeavors fed an increasing appetite amongst low level industrial workers for stories that placed the little guy against the vested interests (in this case, a wronged man turns pirate and fighting back against upper class nobles and landowners), but the story works just as well as an adventure story. After commuting Blood's prison sentence to ten years of slavery on the island of Barbados, the English transport him and a few rebels into the hands of the treacherous Colonel Bishop, a sugar plantation owner and a ruthless thug who sees nothing wrong with using stocks, whips, and other threatening devices to control his slaves. The story rapidly takes off from this point, as Blood escapes and embarks on a career as a pirate. He raids Spanish treasure ships in the Caribbean while pining for Bishop's pretty niece Arabella. Sabatini introduces us to a whole host of despicable characters, from Spanish Admiral Don Esteban, a French pirate named Lavasseur, and a French general named Rivarol who all present a threat to Peter at one time or another. Blood dupes them all through a series of adventures on sea and land. Through it all this Irish pirate never loses sight of his goals: to clear his name and return to England, and to woo Arabella Bishop. The most notable aspect of this novel is the writing style. Sabatini really knew how to tell a tale, and his language is rich, ornate, and deeply descriptive. His technique seems more 19th century than early 20th. It works, and it works well in a chronicle about 17th century pirates by making the reader feel as though this story really is from another time. Sabatini also wrote historical biographies about the Spanish Inquisition and Cesare Borgia, which give Sabatini the knowledge to place Blood in the proper historical context. The year 1688 makes an appearance towards the end of the story, and if you know anything about what happened in England at that time you can probably figure out what implications it had for Peter Blood. In short, this blending of the real and the imaginary continually shapes the events in the novel, thus making the story more realistic. The references to real life people also give the book a halo of respectability. All in all, the story's great style, engaging adventures, and historical accuracy builds a yarn both fascinating and entertaining.
It is established beyond doubt that Mr. Butler was drunk at the time. This rests upon the evidence of Sergeant Flanagan and the troopers who accompanied him, and it rests upon Mr. Butler's own word, as we shall see. And let me add here and now that however wild and irresponsible a rascal he may have been, yet by his own lights he was a man of honour, incapable of falsehood, even though it were calculated to save his skin. I do not deny that Sir Thomas Picton has described him as a "thieving blackguard."
The Court of Pesaro has a certain fool - one Lazzaro Biancomonte of Biancomonte. 'The Shame of Motley' is Lazzaro's story, presented with all the vivid colour and dramatic characterisation that has become Sabatini's hallmark.
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