Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Leonardo da Vinci paintings

Leonardo da Vinci paintings
Lord Frederick Leighton paintings
Mark Rothko paintings
Montague Dawson paintings
Now, then, speak. Where is thy mother? Where are thy sisters? They came not to the place appointed-knowest thou whither they went?"
The king answered, sullenly:
"Trouble me not with these riddles. My mother is dead; my sisters are in the palace." The youth near by burst into a derisive laugh, and the king would have assaulted him, but Canty-or Hobbs, as he now called himself-prevented him, and said:
"Peace, Hugo, vex him not; his mind is astray, and thy ways fret him. Sit thee down, Jack, and quiet thyself; thou shalt have a morsel to eat, anon."
Hobbs and Hugo fell to talking together, in low voices, and the king removed himself as far as he could from their disagreeable company. He withdrew into the twilight of the farther end of the barn, where he found the earthen floor bedded a foot deep with straw. He lay down here, drew straw over himself in lieu of blankets, and was soon absorbed in thinking.He had many griefs, but the minor ones were swept almost into forgetfulness by the supreme one, the loss of his father. To the rest of the world the name of Henry VIII brought a shiver, and suggested an ogre whose nostrils breathed destruction and whose hand dealt scourgings and death; but to this boy the name brought only sensations of pleasure, the figure it invoked wore a countenance that was all gentleness and affection. He called to mind a long succession of loving passages between his father and himself, and dwelt fondly upon them, his unstinted tears attesting how deep and real was the grief that possessed his heart. As the afternoon wasted away, the lad, wearied with his troubles, sunk gradually into a tranquil and healing slumber.

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