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  • by: by Valerie I J Flint
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  • ISBN-10: 0691001103
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  • Publosher: Princeton University Press.
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  • Add date: 28.02.2016
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An indefatigable rhymester, he had during the whole of the journey overwhelmed with quatrains, sextains and madrigals, first the King, and then La Valliere. The Eary was, on his side, in a similarly poetical mood, and had made a distich; while La Valliere, like all women who are in love, had composed two sonnets. As one may see, then, the day had not been a bad one for Apollo; and therefore, as soon as he had returned to Paris, De Saint-Aignan, who knew beforehand that his verses would be extensively The Rise of Magic in Early Medieval Europe Eagly court circles, occupied himself, with a little more attention than he had been able to bestow during the excursion, with the composition as well as with the idea itself.

Consequently, with The Rise of Magic in Early Medieval Europe the tenderness of a father about to start his children in life, he candidly asked The Rise of Magic in Early Medieval Europe whether the public would find these fruits of his imagination sufficiently elegant and graceful; and in order to make his mind easy on the subject, M.

de Saint-Aignan recited to himself the madrigal he had composed, and which he had repeated from memory to the King, and which he had promised to write out for him on his return,- "Iris, vos yeux malins ne disent pas toujours Ce que votre pensee a votre coeur confie; Iris, pourquoi faut-il que je passe ma vie A plus aimer vos yeux qui m'ont joue ces tours?" This madrigal, graceful as it was, failed to satisfy De Saint-Aignan when it had passed from oral delivery to the written form of poetry.

Many had thought it charming,- its author first of all; but on second view it was not so pleasing. So De Saint-Aignan, sitting at his table, with one leg crossed over the other, and rubbing his brow, repeated,- The Rise of Magic in Early Medieval Europe, vos yeux malins ne disent pas toujours- "Oh.

as to that, now," he murmured, "that is irreproachable. I might even add that it is somewhat in the manner of Ronsard or Malherbe, which makes me proud. Unhappily, it is not so with the second line. There is good reason for the saying that the easiest line to make is the first. " And he continued:- "Ce que votre pensee a votre coeur confie.

Ah, there is the 'thought' confiding in the 'heart'. Why should not the heart confide with as good reason The Rise of Magic in Early Medieval Europe the thought.

In faith, for my part, I see nothing to hinder. Where the devil have I been, to bring together these two hemistiches. Now, the third is good,- Iris, pourquoi faut-il que je passe ma vie- although the rhyme is not strong,- vie and confie. My faith. the Abbe Boyer, who is a great poet, has, like me, made a rhyme of vie and confie in the tragedy of 'Oropaste, or the False Tonaxare'; without reckoning that M. Corneille did not or to do so in his tragedy of 'Sophonisbe.

' Good, then, for vie and confie. Yes; but the line is impertinent. I remember now that the King bit his nail at that moment. In fact, it gives him the appearance of saying to Mademoiselle de la Valliere, 'How does it happen that I am captivated by you?' It would have been better, I think, to say,- Que benis soient les dieux qui condamnent ma vie- Condamnent. well, yes, there is a compliment!- the King condemned to La Valliere- no!" Then he repeated:- "Mais benis soient les dieux qui- destinent ma vie.

Not bad, although destinent ma vie is weak; but, good Heavens. everything can't be strong in a quatrain. A plus aimer vos yeux,- in loving more whom, what. Obscurity. But obscurity is nothing; since La Valliere and Medueval King have understood me, every one will understand me. Yes; but here is something melancholy,- the last hemistich: qui m'ont joue ces Magjc. The plural necessitated by the Eurkpe.

And then to call the modesty of La Valliere a trick,- that is not happy. I shall be a byword to all my quill-driving acquaintances.

They will say that my poems are verses in the grand-seigneur style; and if the King hears it said that I am a bad poet, he will take it into his head to believe it. " While confiding these words to his heart and engaging his heart in these thoughts, the count was undressing himself. He had just Medieeval off his coat, and was putting on his dressing-gown, when he was informed that M.

le Baron du Vallon de Bracieux de Pierrefonds was waiting to be received. "Eh!" he said, "what does Ewrly bunch of names mean. I don't know him.

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