“Immediately, ma’am; this instant, ma’am,” said Mr. Pickwick, opening the door, and dropping both his shoes with a loud crash in so doing.
“I trust, ma’am,” resumed Mr. Pickwick, gathering up his shoes, and turning round to bow again, “I trust, ma’am, that my unblemished character, and the devoted respect I entertain for your sex, will plead as some slight excuse for this”—But before Mr. Pickwick could conclude the sentence, the lady had thrust him into the passage, and locked and bolted the door behind him.
Dickens.
THE DEATH OF D’ASSAS.
[In the autumn of 1760, Louis XV. sent an army into Germany. They took up a strong position at Klostercamp, intending to advance on Rheinberg. The young Chevalier D’Assas was sent out by Auvergne to reconnoitre. He met a party advancing to surprise the French camp. Their bayonets pricked his breast, and the leader whispered, “Make the least noise, and you are a dead man.” D’Assas paused a moment, then cried out as loud as he could, “Here, Auvergne! here are the enemy!” He was immediately cut down, but his death had saved the French army.—History of France.]
There’s revelry at Louis’ court. With, joust and tournament, With feasting and with laughter, the merry days are spent; And midst them all, those gallant knights, of Louis’ court the boast, Who can compare with D’Assas among the brilliant host? The flush of youth is on his cheek; the fire that lights his eye Tells of the noble heart within, the spirit pure and high. No braver knight holds charger’s reign, or wields the glittering lance. Than proud and lordly D’Assas, bold chevalier of France.
The sound of war strikes on the air from far beyond the Rhine, Its clarions ring across the fields, rich with the purple vine. France calls her best and bravest: “Up, men, and take the sword! Of German vales and hillsides, Louis would fain be lord; Go forth, and for your sovereign win honor and renown; Plant the white flag of Ivry on valley and on town. The green soil of the Fatherland shall see your arms advance, The dull and stolid Teuton shall bend the knee to France.”
On Klostercamp the morning sun is glancing brightly down. Auvergne has ranged his forces within the ancient town. From thence on Rheinberg shall they move: that citadel so grim Shall yield her towers to Auvergne, shall ope her gates to him. His warriors stand about him, a bold and gallant band, No general e’er had truer men to follow his command. He seeks the best and bravest; on D’Assas falls his glance,— On brave and lordly D’Assas, bold chevalier of France.