The earth is sown with pleasures, as the heavens are studded with stars, wherever the conditions of existence are unsophisticated.
Heaven's ebon vault Studded with stars unutterably bright, Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls, Seems like a canopy which love has spread To curtain her sleeping world.
Your thought advocates fame and show. Mine counsels me and implores me to cast aside notoriety and treat it like a grain of sand cast upon the shore of eternity. Your thought instills in your heart arrogance and superiority. Mine plants within me love for peace and the desire for independence. Your thought begets dreams of palaces with furniture of sandalwood studded with jewels, and beds made of twisted silk threads. My thought speaks softly in my ears, "Be clean in body and spirit even if you have nowhere to lay your head." Your thought makes you aspire to titles and offices. Mine exhorts me to humble service.
An intelligent, energetic, educated woman cannot be kept in four walls — even satin-lined, diamond-studded walls — without discovering sooner or later that they are still a prison cell.
It is a well known fact that warriors and wizards do not get along, because one side considers the other side to be a collection of bloodthirsty idiots who can't walk and think at the same time, while the other side is naturally suspicious of a body of men who mumble a lot and wear long dresses. Oh, say the wizards, if we're going to be like that, then, what about all those
To which the heroes reply, that's a pretty good allegation from a bunch of
wimpsoes who won't go near a woman on account, can you believe it, of their
mystical power being sort of drained out. Right, say the wizards, that just
about does it, you and your leather posing pouches. Oh yeah, say the the
heroes, why don't you ...
-- Terry Pratchett, "The Light Fantastic"
Never had the sky been more studded with stars and more charming, the trees more trembling, the odor of the grass more penetrating; never had the birds fallen asleep among the leaves with a sweeter noise; never had all the harmonies of universal serenity responded more thoroughly to the inward music of love; never had Marius been more captivated, more happy, more ecstatic.
For several seconds, Jean Valjean was irresistibly overcome by that august and caressing serenity; such moments of oblivion do come to men; suffering refrains from harassing the unhappy wretch; everything is eclipsed in the thoughts; peace broods over the dreamer like night; and, beneath the twilight which beams and in imitation of the sky which is illuminated, the soul becomes studded with stars. Jean Valjean could not refrain from contemplating that vast, clear shadow which rested over him; thoughtfully he bathed in the sea of ecstasy and prayer in the majestic silence of the eternal heavens. Then he bent down swiftly to Marius, as though the sentiment of duty had returned to him, and, dipping up water in the hollow of his hand, he gently sprinkled a few drops on the latter's face. Marius' eyelids did not open; but his half-open mouth still breathed.
I call for two brave warriors arm'd to prove Each other's skill with weapons keen, this prize Disputing, next, in presence of us all. Who first shall through his armor reach the skin Of his antagonist, and shall draw his blood, To him this silver-studded falchion bright I give; the blade is Thracian, and of late Asteropæus wore it, whom I slew. These other arms shall be their common meed, And I will banquet both within my tent.
M. Mabeuf had set himself to turning over and reading, with the aid of his glasses, two books of which he was passionately fond and in which, a serious thing at his age, he was interested. His natural timidity rendered him accessible to the acceptance of superstitions in a certain degree. The first of these books was the famous treatise of President Delancre, De l'inconstance des Demons; the other was a quarto by Mutor de la Rubaudiere, Sur les Diables de Vauvert et les Gobelins de la Bievre. This last-mentioned old volume interested him all the more, because his garden had been one of the spots haunted by goblins in former times. The twilight had begun to whiten what was on high and to blacken all below. As he read, over the top of the book which he held in his hand, Father Mabeuf was surveying his plants, and among others a magnificent rhododendron which was one of his consolations; four days of heat, wind, and sun without a drop of rain, had passed; the stalks were bending, the buds drooping, the leaves falling; all this needed water, the rhododendron was particularly sad. Father Mabeuf was one of those persons for whom plants have souls. The old man had toiled all day over his indigo plot, he was worn out with fatigue, but he rose, laid his books on the bench, and walked, all bent over and with tottering footsteps, to the well, but when he had grasped the chain, he could not even draw it sufficiently to unhook it. Then he turned round and cast a glance of anguish toward heaven which was becoming studded with stars.
As we came out of the prison through the lodge, I found that the great importance of my guardian was appreciated by the turnkeys, no less than by those whom they held in charge. "Well, Mr. Wemmick," said the turnkey, who kept us between the two studded and spiked lodge gates, and who carefully locked one before he unlocked the other, "what's Mr. Jaggers going to do with that water-side murder? Is he going to make it manslaughter, or what's he going to make of it?"
The Bel-Air, that top story of the New Building, was a sort of large hall, with a Mansard roof, guarded with triple gratings and double doors of sheet iron, which were studded with enormous bolts. When one entered from the north end, one had on one's left the four dormer-windows, on one's right, facing the windows, at regular intervals, four square, tolerably vast cages, separated by narrow passages, built of masonry to about the height of the elbow, and the rest, up to the roof, of iron bars.
It was in the warmest days of July, when in due course of time the Saturday arrived upon which the ball was to take place at M. de Morcerf's. It was ten o'clock at night; the branches of the great trees in the garden of the count's house stood out boldly against the azure canopy of heaven, which was studded with golden stars, but where the last fleeting clouds of a vanishing storm yet lingered. From the apartments on the ground-floor might be heard the sound of music, with the whirl of the waltz and galop, while brilliant streams of light shone through the openings of the Venetian blinds. At this moment the garden was only occupied by about ten servants, who had just received orders from their mistress to prepare the supper, the serenity of the weather continuing to increase. Until now, it had been undecided whether the supper should take place in the dining-room, or under a long tent erected on the lawn, but the beautiful blue sky, studded with stars, had settled the question in favor of the lawn. The gardens were illuminated with colored lanterns, according to the Italian custom, and, as is usual in countries where the luxuries of the table--the rarest of all luxuries in their complete form--are well understood, the supper-table was loaded with wax-lights and flowers.
Dantes ran down the rocks at the risk of being himself dashed to pieces; he listened, he groped about, but he heard and saw nothing--the cries had ceased, and the tempest continued to rage. By degrees the wind abated, vast gray clouds rolled towards the west, and the blue firmament appeared studded with bright stars. Soon a red streak became visible in the horizon, the waves whitened, a light played over them, and gilded their foaming crests with gold. It was day.
So saying, his silver-studded sword he gave Into his grasp, and, courteous, thus began.
He said, and, rising from his homely throne, The solemn rites of Hercules begun, And on his altars wak'd the sleeping fires; Then cheerful to his household gods retires; There offers chosen sheep. Th' Arcadian king And Trojan youth the same oblations bring. Next, of his men and ships he makes review; Draws out the best and ablest of the crew. Down with the falling stream the refuse run, To raise with joyful news his drooping son. Steeds are prepar'd to mount the Trojan band, Who wait their leader to the Tyrrhene land. A sprightly courser, fairer than the rest, The king himself presents his royal guest: A lion's hide his back and limbs infold, Precious with studded work, and paws of gold. Fame thro' the little city spreads aloud Th' intended march, amid the fearful crowd: The matrons beat their breasts, dissolve in tears, And double their devotion in their fears. The war at hand appears with more affright, And rises ev'ry moment to the sight.
To these the hero thus his thoughts explain'd, In words which gen'ral approbation gain'd: "One common largess is for all design'd, (The vanquish'd and the victor shall be join'd,) Two darts of polish'd steel and Gnosian wood, A silver-studded ax, alike bestow'd. The foremost three have olive wreaths decreed: The first of these obtains a stately steed, Adorn'd with trappings; and the next in fame, The quiver of an Amazonian dame, With feather'd Thracian arrows well supplied: A golden belt shall gird his manly side, Which with a sparkling diamond shall be tied. The third this Grecian helmet shall content." He said. To their appointed base they went; With beating hearts th' expected sign receive, And, starting all at once, the barrier leave. Spread out, as on the winged winds, they flew, And seiz'd the distant goal with greedy view. Shot from the crowd, swift Nisus all o'erpass'd; Nor storms, nor thunder, equal half his haste. The next, but tho' the next, yet far disjoin'd, Came Salius, and Euryalus behind; Then Helymus, whom young Diores plied, Step after step, and almost side by side, His shoulders pressing; and, in longer space, Had won, or left at least a dubious race.
So saying, he cast his sceptre on the ground Studded with gold, and sat. On the other side The son of Atreus all impassion'd stood, When the harmonious orator arose Nestor, the Pylian oracle, whose lips Dropped eloquence--the honey not so sweet. Two generations past of mortals born In Pylus, coëtaneous with himself, He govern'd now the third--amid them all He stood, and thus, benevolent, began.
Monte Cristo looked for the entrance to the enclosure, and was not long in finding a little wooden gate, working on willow hinges, and fastened with a nail and string. The count soon mastered the mechanism, the gate opened, and he then found himself in a little garden, about twenty feet long by twelve wide, bounded on one side by part of the hedge, which contained the ingenious contrivance we have called a gate, and on the other by the old tower, covered with ivy and studded with wall-flowers. No one would have thought in looking at this old, weather-beaten, floral-decked tower (which might be likened to an elderly dame dressed up to receive her grandchildren at a birthday feast) that it would have been capable of telling strange things, if,--in addition to the menacing ears which the proverb says all walls are provided with,--it had also a voice. The garden was crossed by a path of red gravel, edged by a border of thick box, of many years' growth, and of a tone and color that would have delighted the heart of Delacroix, our modern Rubens. This path was formed in the shape of the figure of 8, thus, in its windings, making a walk of sixty feet in a garden of only twenty.
After breakfast the four couples went to what was then called the King's Square to see a newly arrived plant from India, whose name escapes our memory at this moment, and which, at that epoch, was attracting all Paris to Saint-Cloud. It was an odd and charming shrub with a long stem, whose numerous branches, bristling and leafless and as fine as threads, were covered with a million tiny white rosettes; this gave the shrub the air of a head of hair studded with flowers. There was always an admiring crowd about it.
However, he, like Caesar Borgia, knew the value of time; and, in order to avoid fruitless toil, he sounded all the other walls with his pickaxe, struck the earth with the butt of his gun, and finding nothing that appeared suspicious, returned to that part of the wall whence issued the consoling sound he had before heard. He again struck it, and with greater force. Then a singular thing occurred. As he struck the wall, pieces of stucco similar to that used in the ground work of arabesques broke off, and fell to the ground in flakes, exposing a large white stone. The aperture of the rock had been closed with stones, then this stucco had been applied, and painted to imitate granite. Dantes struck with the sharp end of his pickaxe, which entered someway between the interstices. It was there he must dig. But by some strange play of emotion, in proportion as the proofs that Faria, had not been deceived became stronger, so did his heart give way, and a feeling of discouragement stole over him. This last proof, instead of giving him fresh strength, deprived him of it; the pickaxe descended, or rather fell; he placed it on the ground, passed his hand over his brow, and remounted the stairs, alleging to himself, as an excuse, a desire to be assured that no one was watching him, but in reality because he felt that he was about to faint. The island was deserted, and the sun seemed to cover it with its fiery glance; afar off, a few small fishing boats studded the bosom of the blue ocean.
So saying, he urged Minerva prompt before. In form a shrill-voiced Harpy of long wing Through ether down she darted, while the Greeks In all their camp for instant battle arm'd. Ambrosial sweets and nectar she instill'd Into his breast, lest he should suffer loss Of strength through abstinence, then soar'd again To her great Sire's unperishing abode. And now the Grecians from their gallant fleet All pour'd themselves abroad. As when thick snow From Jove descends, driven by impetuous gusts Of the cloud-scattering North, so frequent shone Issuing from the fleet the dazzling casques, Boss'd bucklers, hauberks strong, and ashen spears. Upwent the flash to heaven; wide all around The champain laugh'd with beamy brass illumed, And tramplings of the warriors on all sides Resounded, amidst whom Achilles arm'd. He gnash'd his teeth, fire glimmer'd in his eyes, Anguish intolerable wrung his heart And fury against Troy, while he put on His glorious arms, the labor of a God. First, to his legs his polish'd greaves he clasp'd Studded with silver, then his corselet bright Braced to his bosom, his huge sword of brass Athwart his shoulder slung, and his broad shield Uplifted last, luminous as the moon. Such as to mariners a fire appears, Kindled by shepherds on the distant top Of some lone hill; they, driven by stormy winds, Reluctant roam far off the fishy deep, Such from Achilles' burning shield divine A lustre struck the skies; his ponderous helm He lifted to his brows; starlike it shone, And shook its curling crest of bushy gold, By Vulcan taught to wave profuse around. So clad, godlike Achilles trial made If his arms fitted him, and gave free scope To his proportion'd limbs; buoyant they proved As wings, and high upbore his airy tread. He drew his father's spear forth from his case, Heavy and huge and long. That spear, of all Achaia's sons, none else had power to wield; Achilles only could the Pelian spear Brandish, by Chiron for his father hewn From Pelion's top for slaughter of the brave. His coursers, then, Automedon prepared And Alcimus, adjusting diligent The fair caparisons; they thrust the bits Into their mouths, and to the chariot seat Extended and made fast the reins behind. The splendid scourge commodious to the grasp Seizing, at once Automedon upsprang Into his place; behind him, arm'd complete Achilles mounted, as the orient sun All dazzling, and with awful tone his speech Directed to the coursers of his Sire.
He spake; I thence receding, deep infix'd My sword bright-studded in the sheath again. The noble prophet then, approaching, drank The blood, and, satisfied, address'd me thus.
Penelon rolled his quid in his cheek, placed his hand before his mouth, turned his head, and sent a long jet of tobacco-juice into the antechamber, advanced his foot, balanced himself, and began,--"You see, M. Morrel," said he, "we were somewhere between Cape Blanc and Cape Boyador, sailing with a fair breeze, south-south-west after a week's calm, when Captain Gaumard comes up to me--I was at the helm I should tell you--and says, 'Penelon, what do you think of those clouds coming up over there?' I was just then looking at them myself. 'What do I think, captain? Why I think that they are rising faster than they have any business to do, and that they would not be so black if they didn't mean mischief.'--'That's my opinion too,' said the captain, 'and I'll take precautions accordingly. We are carrying too much canvas. Avast, there, all hands! Take in the studding-sl's and stow the flying jib.' It was time; the squall was on us, and the vessel began to heel. 'Ah,' said the captain, 'we have still too much canvas set; all hands lower the mains'l!' Five minutes after, it was down; and we sailed under mizzen-tops'ls and to'gall'nt sails. 'Well, Penelon,' said the captain, 'what makes you shake your head?' 'Why,' I says, 'I still think you've got too much on.' 'I think you're right,' answered he, 'we shall have a gale.' 'A gale? More than that, we shall have a tempest, or I don't know what's what.' You could see the wind coming like the dust at Montredon; luckily the captain understood his business. 'Take in two reefs in the tops'ls,' cried the captain; 'let go the bowlin's, haul the brace, lower the to'gall'nt sails, haul out the reef-tackles on the yards.'"
So spake the Dream, and vanishing, him left In false hopes occupied and musings vain. Full sure he thought, ignorant of the plan By Jove design'd, that day the last of Troy. Fond thought! For toils and agonies to Greeks And Trojans both, in many a bloody field To be endured, the Thunderer yet ordain'd. Starting he woke, and seeming still to hear The warning voice divine, with hasty leap Sprang from his bed, and sat. His fleecy vest New-woven he put on, and mantle wide; His sandals fair to his unsullied feet He braced, and slung his argent-studded sword. Then, incorruptible for evermore The sceptre of his sires he took, with which He issued forth into the camp of Greece.
The wayfarer halted for a moment, and peeped through the window into the interior of the low-studded room of the public house, illuminated by a small lamp on a table and by a large fire on the hearth. Some men were engaged in drinking there. The landlord was warming himself. An iron pot, suspended from a crane, bubbled over the flame.
He ended; I my studded faulchion huge Athwart my shoulder cast, and seized my bow, Then bade him lead me thither by the way Himself had gone; but with both hands my knees He clasp'd, and in wing'd accents sad exclaim'd.
In a graceful, white, Georgian room, divided into unequal parts by a two-sided fire-place, a group of officers stood anxiously talking. They were pale and distracted, and evidently hadn’t slept. To one, an oldish man with a white beard, his uniform studded with decorations, who was pointed out as the Colonel, we showed our Bolshevik papers.
The life-buoy--a long slender cask--was dropped from the stern, where it always hung obedient to a cunning spring; but no hand rose to seize it, and the sun having long beat upon this cask it had shrunken, so that it slowly filled, and that parched wood also filled at its every pore; and the studded iron-bound cask followed the sailor to the bottom, as if to yield him his pillow, though in sooth but a hard one.
So saying, he caught the faulchion from the floor Which Agelaüs had let fall, and smote Leiodes, while he kneel'd, athwart his neck So suddenly, that ere his tongue had ceased To plead for life, his head was in the dust. But Phemius, son of Terpius, bard divine, Who, through compulsion, with his song regaled The suitors, a like dreadful death escaped. Fast by the postern, harp in hand, he stood, Doubtful if, issuing, he should take his seat Beside the altar of Hercæan Jove, Where oft Ulysses offer'd, and his sire, Fat thighs of beeves, or whether he should haste, An earnest suppliant, to embrace his knees. That course, at length, most pleased him; then, between The beaker and an argent-studded throne He grounded his sweet lyre, and seizing fast The Hero's knees, him, suppliant, thus address'd.
He ceas'd, and led the way, whom follow'd all The sceptred senators, while to the house An herald hasted of the bard divine. Then, fifty mariners and two, from all The rest selected, to the coast repair'd, And, from her station on the sea-bank, launched The galley down into the sacred Deep. They placed the canvas and the mast on board, Arranged the oars, unfurl'd the shining sail, And, leaving her in depth of water moor'd, All sought the palace of Alcinoüs. There, soon, the portico, the court, the hall Were fill'd with multitudes of young and old, For whose regale the mighty monarch slew Two beeves, twelve sheep, and twice four fatted brawns. They slay'd them first, then busily their task Administ'ring, prepared the joyous feast. And now the herald came, leading with care The tuneful bard; dear to the muse was he, Who yet appointed him both good and ill; Took from him sight, but gave him strains divine. For him, Pontonoüs in the midst disposed An argent-studded throne, thrusting it close To a tall column, where he hung his lyre Above his head, and taught him where it hung. He set before him, next, a polish'd board And basket, and a goblet fill'd with wine For his own use, and at his own command. Then, all assail'd at once the ready feast, And when nor hunger more nor thirst they felt, Then came the muse, and roused the bard to sing Exploits of men renown'd; it was a song, In that day, to the highest heav'n extoll'd. He sang of a dispute kindled between The son of Peleus, and Laertes' son, Both seated at a feast held to the Gods. That contest Agamemnon, King of men, Between the noblest of Achaia's host Hearing, rejoiced; for when in Pytho erst He pass'd the marble threshold to consult The oracle of Apollo, such dispute The voice divine had to his ear announced; For then it was that, first, the storm of war Came rolling on, ordain'd long time to afflict Troy and the Greecians, by the will of Jove.
The stranger thus presenting himself was probably a person who, like Franz, preferred the enjoyment of solitude and his own thoughts to the frivolous gabble of the guides. And his appearance had nothing extraordinary in it; but the hesitation with which he proceeded, stopping and listening with anxious attention at every step he took, convinced Franz that he expected the arrival of some person. By a sort of instinctive impulse, Franz withdrew as much as possible behind his pillar. About ten feet from the spot where he and the stranger were, the roof had given way, leaving a large round opening, through which might be seen the blue vault of heaven, thickly studded with stars. Around this opening, which had, possibly, for ages permitted a free entrance to the brilliant moonbeams that now illumined the vast pile, grew a quantity of creeping plants, whose delicate green branches stood out in bold relief against the clear azure of the firmament, while large masses of thick, strong fibrous shoots forced their way through the chasm, and hung floating to and fro, like so many waving strings. The person whose mysterious arrival had attracted the attention of Franz stood in a kind of half-light, that rendered it impossible to distinguish his features, although his dress was easily made out. He wore a large brown mantle, one fold of which, thrown over his left shoulder, served likewise to mask the lower part of his countenance, while the upper part was completely hidden by his broad-brimmed hat. The lower part of his dress was more distinctly visible by the bright rays of the moon, which, entering through the broken ceiling, shed their refulgent beams on feet cased in elegantly made boots of polished leather, over which descended fashionably cut trousers of black cloth.
I returned to my book--Bewick's History of British Birds: the letterpress thereof I cared little for, generally speaking; and yet there were certain introductory pages that, child as I was, I could not pass quite as a blank. They were those which treat of the haunts of sea-fowl; of "the solitary rocks and promontories" by them only inhabited; of the coast of Norway, studded with isles from its southern extremity, the Lindeness, or Naze, to the North Cape--