theme,metaphor,work_id,dictionary,provenance,id,created_at,updated_at,reviewed_on,comments,text,context
"","""For the next two whole stages, no subject would go down, but the heavy blow he had sustain'd from the loss of a son, whom it seems he had fully reckon'd upon in his mind, and register'd down in his pocket-book, as a second staff for his old age, in case Bobby should fail him.""",5088,Writing,"Found again searching ""mind"" and ""book"" HDIS (Prose)",13688,2009-09-14 19:38:59 UTC,2011-09-23 18:15:11 UTC,2003-10-23,Parallelism of mind and pocket-book.,"My father, as any body may naturally imagine, came down with my mother into the country, in but a pettish kind of a humour. The first twenty or five-and-twenty miles he did nothing in the world but fret and teaze himself, and indeed my mother too, about the cursed expence, which he said might every shilling of it have been saved;-- then what vexed him more than every thing else was the provoking time of the year,--which, as I told you, was towards the end of September, when his wall-fruit, and green gages especially, in which he was very curious, were just ready for pulling: --""Had he been whistled up to London, upon a Tom Fool's errand in any other month of the whole year, he should not have said three words about it.""
For the next two whole stages, no subject would go down, but the heavy blow he had sustain'd from the loss of a son, whom it seems he had fully reckon'd upon in his mind , and register'd down in his pocket-book, as a second staff for his old age, in case Bobby should fail him. ""The disappointment of this, he said, was ten times more to a wise man than all the money which the journey, & c. had cost him, put together,--rot the hundred and twenty pounds,--he did not mind it a rush.""
(pp. 92-4; Norton, 30)","Vol. 1, Chap. 16"
"","""Manfred, who, though he had distinguished her by great indulgence, had imprinted her mind with terror from his causeless rigour to such amiable princesses as Hippolita and Matilda.""",5197,Writing,Reading,13970,2009-09-14 19:39:37 UTC,2013-06-28 02:13:12 UTC,,Conrad crushed by helmet. Isabella's state of mind reported.,"Yet her own situation could not help finding its place in her thoughts. She felt no concern for the death of young Conrad, except commiseration; and she was not sorry to be delivered from a marriage which had promised her little felicity, either from her destined bridegroom, or from the severe temper of Manfred, who, though he had distinguished her by great indulgence, had imprinted her mind with terror from his causeless rigour to such amiable princesses as Hippolita and Matilda.
(p. 18)",""
"","""There is not a sentiment engraven on my heart, that does not venerate you and yours.""",5197,Writing,"Searching ""engrav"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Prose Fiction); found again ""thought"" and ""engrav""",14004,2005-03-10 00:00:00 UTC,2013-06-28 02:21:32 UTC,,"","What is there in these lines, said Theodore impatiently, that affects these Princesses? why were they to be shocked by a mysterious delicacy, that has so little foundation? Your words are rude, young man, said the Marquis; and tho' fortune has favoured you once--my honoured Lord, said Isabella, who resented Theodore's warmth, which she perceived was dictated by his sentiments for Matilda, discompose not yourself for the glosing of a peasant's son: He forgets the reverence he owes you; but he is not accustomed--Hippolita, concerned at the heat that had arisen, checked Theodore for his boldness, but with an air acknowledging his zeal; and changing the conversation, demanded ofFrederic where he had left her Lord? As the Marquis was going to reply, they heard a noise without, and rising to inquire the cause, Manfred, Jerome, and part of the troop, who had met an imperfect rumour of what had happened, entered the chamber. Manfred advanced hastily towards Frederic's bed to condole with him on his misfortune, and to learn the circumstances of the combat, when starting in an agony of terror and amazement, he cried, Ha! what art thou? thou dreadful spectre! is my hour come? --my dearest, gracious Lord, cried Hippolita, clasping him in her arms, what is it you see? why do you fix your eye-balls thus! --What! cried Manfred breathless--dost thou see nothing,Hippolita ? is this ghastly phantom sent to me alone--to me, who did not--for mercy's sweetest self, my Lord, said Hippolita, resume your soul, command your reason. There is none here, but us, your friends--what is not that Alfonso? cried Manfred: Dost thou not see him? can it be my brain's delirium? --This! my Lord, said Hippolita; this is Theodore, the youth who has been so unfortunate--Theodore! said Manfred mournfully, and striking his forehead --Theodore, or a phantom, he has unhinged the soul of Manfred--but how comes he here? and how comes he in armour? I believe he went in search of Isabella: Said Hippolita. Of Isabella! said Manfred, relapsing into rage--yes, yes, that is not doubtful--but how did he escape from durance in which I left him? was it Isabella, or this hypocritical old Friar, that procured his enlargement?--and would a parent be criminal, my Lord, said Theodore, if he meditated the deliverance of his child? Jeromeamazed to hear himself in a manner accused by his son, and without foundation, knew not what to think. He could not comprehend, how Theodore had escaped, how he came to be armed, and to encounter Frederic. Still he would not venture to ask any questions that might tend to inflame Manfred's wrath against his son. Jerome's silence convinced Manfred that he had contrived Theodore's release--and is it thus, thou ungrateful old man, said the Prince addressing himself to the Friar, that thou repayest mine and Hippolita's bounties? And not content with traversing my heart's nearest wishes, thou armest thy bastard, and bringest him into my own castle to insult me! My Lord, saidTheodore, you wrong my father: Nor he nor I are capable of harbouring a thought against your peace. Is it insolence thus to surrender myself to your Highness's pleasure? added he, laying his sword respectfully at Manfred's feet. Behold my bosom; strike, my Lord, if you suspect that a disloyal thought is lodged there. There is not a sentiment engraven on my heart, that does not venerate you and yours. The grace and fervour with which Theodore uttered these words, interested every person present in his favour. Even Manfred was touched-- yet still possessed with his resemblance to Alfonso, his admiration was dashed with secret horror. Rise; said he; thy life is not my present purpose. --But tell me thy history, and how thou camest connected with this old traitor here.
(pp. 134-7)",Chapter 4
"","""When the situation is, what we would wish, nothing is so ill-timed as to hint at the circumstances which make it so: you thank Fortune, continued she--you had reason--the heart knew it, and was satisfied; and who but an English philosopher would have sent notices of it to the brain to reverse the judgment?""",5301,Court and Writing,Searching HDIS (Prose),14233,2004-11-24 00:00:00 UTC,2013-10-26 18:35:28 UTC,,•I've included twice: Notices and Court,"This certainly, fair lady! said I, raising her hand up a little lightly as I began, must be one of Fortune's whimsical doings: to take two utter strangers by their hands--of different sexes, and perhaps from different corners of the globe, and in one moment place them together in such a cordial situation, as Friendship herself could scarce have atchieved for them, had she projected it for a month--
--And your reflection upon it, shews how much, Monsieur, she has embarassed you by the adventure.--
When the situation is, what we would wish, nothing is so ill-timed as to hint at the circumstances which make it so: you thank Fortune, continued she--you had reason--the heart knew it, and was satisfied; and who but an English philosopher would have sent notices of it to the brain to reverse the judgment?
In saying this, she disengaged her hand with a look which I thought a sufficient commentary upon the text.
(I, pp. 50-1)","The Remise Door. Calais. Vol I, chapter [11], pp. 50-1"
"","""I blot from my memory every other woman; those every-day beauties (as Terence calls them) who have nothing but their sex to recommend them.""",5409,"","Searching ""blot"" and ""memory"" in HDIS (Prose)",14526,2005-03-25 00:00:00 UTC,2009-09-14 19:41:08 UTC,,
,"""Neither am I very fond of the company of Ladies, out of regard to the memory of poor Ophelia; the recollection of whose excellencies makes the generality of female conversation truly insipid--Deleo omnes dehinc ex animo mulieres--I blot from my memory every other woman; those every-day beauties (as Terence calls them) who have nothing but their sex to recommend them.""","Vol. 1, Book 4, Chap. 15"
"","""So innocent is the Soul of Kainophilus, so like fair white Paper, wherein you may presently see the least blot or speck of dirt that happens to fall upon it.""",7476,Writing,C-H Lion,20965,2013-06-18 21:19:01 UTC,2013-06-18 21:19:01 UTC,,"","Now to observe the difference of Men--How often might honest harmless Evander have gone to have seen the Crown without ever stealing it at this fellonious rate.--'Tis absolutely against my Nature to knock down Men at a Blow as he did--Nay, so far am I from being harden'd enough for any such Enterprize, that I'm pretty sure, as far as I can guess at my self, could the Crown and Scepter have both been swallow'd and laid close up in my very Belly instead of under my Coat, had but one Souldier of all the Guards, nay, one little Boy no bigger than a Cade-Lamb, lookt upon me, very fear wou'd have made me so far from being able to conceal the Theft, that I should certainly have voided it out into my Breeches.--So innocent is the Soul of Kainophilus, so like fair white Paper, wherein you may presently see the least blot or speck of dirt that happens to fall upon it.
(I, p. 135)",""
"","""Who has so many English Dictionaries in his Study, and another in his Head bigger than all together (and yet there's still room to spare both for Brains and Projects) Does not he?--nay--now you ruffle his smooth Soul, alter his fair Body, and discompose him all over.""",7476,Writing,C-H Lion,20971,2013-06-18 21:34:23 UTC,2013-06-18 21:34:23 UTC,,"","How,--Evander not understand true English, who has been an Author these three and twenty years, and cou'd almost read his Criss cross-row in his Mother's Belly! Who has so many English Dictionaries in his Study, and another in his Head bigger than all together (and yet there's still room to spare both for Brains and Projects) Does not he?--nay--now you ruffle his smooth Soul, alter his fair Body, and discompose him all over.--If ye go on at this rate, with making Objections, a Man does not know how to answer (for their number, I mean not their weight) ye shall e'ne write your self, and let the World laugh at ye, for Evander will be your Fool no longer.--But not to overrule this Plea, we'll for once joyn issue, and giv't a fair Answer.
(II, p. 17)",""