The Blacksmith's Hammer; or, The Peasant Code: A Tale of the Grand Monarch
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Эжен Сю. The Blacksmith's Hammer; or, The Peasant Code: A Tale of the Grand Monarch
The Blacksmith's Hammer; or, The Peasant Code: A Tale of the Grand Monarch
Table of Contents
INTRODUCTION
PART I. HOLLAND
CHAPTER I. THE ST. ELOI
CHAPTER II. BERTHA OF PLOUERNEL
CHAPTER III. THE HUGUENOT COLONEL
CHAPTER IV. THE LOST LETTER
CHAPTER V. JOHN DE WITT
CHAPTER VI. CORNELIUS DE WITT
CHAPTER VII. MOB-VERDICT
CHAPTER VIII. THE FLIGHT
PART II >BRITTANY
CHAPTER I. NOMINOE
CHAPTER II. A BRETON WEDDING
CHAPTER III. THE RED-COATS
CHAPTER IV. DESERTED!
CHAPTER V. THE MYSTERY AT PLOUERNEL
CHAPTER VI. BERTHA AND NOMINOE
CHAPTER VII. EZ-LIBR
CHAPTER VIII. THE MANOR OF MEZLEAN
CHAPTER IX. THE PEASANTS' DEFEAT
CHAPTER X. UNITED
EPILOGUE
FOOTNOTES:
Отрывок из книги
Eugène Sue
Published by Good Press, 2019
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"Oh, my niece, in their fervent adoration of their much beloved sovereign, La Valiere, Montespan and the Queen do as people do who make to God a sacrifice of their pains—they offer their torn hearts to their idol, the handsomest, the greatest King in the whole world!"
"Well, aunt, that theory becomes excessively hyperbolic. Have I not seen him, that 'great King,' an undersized man in reality, seeking to add inches to his stature with the aid of immoderately high heels and enormous wigs! Tell me, deprived of his heels, his wigs and, above all, his royal mantle, what, I pray you, is left of the 'idol'? Why, a little stuffed and groomed crow! For the rest, a good carpet dancer, a still better knight of the carrousel; always in red paint, severe, buttressed in the majesty of his trappings, never laughing out of fear to expose his villainous teeth, otherwise negligent of his appearance and never shaving but every three days, passionately fond of perfumery in order to conceal his bad breath, finally having, under the category of truly 'great' nothing to show except his appetite, to judge from his voracity, which I once witnessed at Versailles on a gala day! But raillery carries me away, and I blush, myself," added Mademoiselle Plouernel, whose features quickly assumed an expression of deep sadness. "Am I ever to forget that my mother's brother finished his days in a dungeon, the victim of the iniquity of Louis XIV!"
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