📔 Quentin Durward

The latter part of the fifteenth century prepared a train of future events, that ended by raising France to a formidable power, which has ever since been, from time to time, the principal object of jealousy to the other European nations.

" […] And now, our news are told, noble Crevecoeur, and what think you they resemble?" "A mine full charged with gunpowder," answered Crevecoeur, "to which, I fear, it is my fate to bring the kindled linstock. Your news and mine are like flax and fire, which cannot meet without bursting into flame, or like certain chemical substances which cannot be mingled without an explosion."

"I can answer a civil question civilly," said the youth, "and will pay fitting respect to your age, if you do not urge my patience with mockery. Since I have been here in France and Flanders, men have called me, in their fantasy, the Varlet with the Velvet Pouch, because of this hawk purse which I carry by my side; but my true name, when at home, is Quentin Durward." / "Durward!" said the querist; "is it a gentleman's name?"

Some male or female flatterer had, in evil hour, possessed him with the idea that there was much beauty of contour in a pair of huge substantial legs, which he had derived from his father, a car-man of Limoges; […]