Le Rhin, Tome I by Victor Hugo
Le beau Pécopin aimait la belle Bauldour, et la belle Bauldour aimait le beau Pécopin. Pécopin était fils du burgrave de Sonneck, et Bauldour était fille du sire de Falkenburg. L'un avait la forêt, l'autre avait la montagne. Or quoi de plus simple que de marier la montagne à la forêt? Les deux pères s'entendirent, et l'on fian?a Bauldour à Pécopin.
Ce jour-là, c'était un jour d'avril, les sureaux et les aubépines en fleurs s'ouvraient au soleil dans la forêt, mille petites cascades charmantes, neiges et pluies changées en ruisseaux, horreurs de l'hiver devenues les graces du printemps, sautaient harmonieusement dans la montagne, et l'amour, cet avril de l'homme, chantait, rayonnait et s'épanouissait dans le c?ur des deux fiancés.
Le père de Pécopin, vieux et vaillant chevalier, l'honneur du Nahegau, mourut quelque temps après les accordailles, en bénissant son fils et en lui recommandant Bauldour. Pécopin pleura, puis peu à peu, de la tombe où son père avait disparu, ses yeux se reportèrent au doux et radieux visage de sa fiancée, et il se consola. Quand la lune se lève, songe-t-on au soleil couché?
Pécopin avait toutes les qualités d'un gentilhomme, d'un jeune homme et d'un homme. Bauldour était une reine dans le manoir, une sainte vierge à l'église, une nymphe dans les bois, une fée à l'ouvrage.
Pécopin était grand chasseur, et Bauldour était belle fileuse. Or il n'y a pas de haine entre le fuseau et la carnassière. La fileuse file pendant que le chasseur chasse. Il est absent, la quenouille console et désennuie. La meute aboie, le rouet chante. La meute qui est au loin et qu'on entend à peine, mêlée au cor et perdue profondément dans les halliers, dit tout bas avec un vague bruit de fanfare: Songe à ton amant. Le rouet, qui force la belle rêveuse à baisser les yeux, dit tout haut et sans cesse avec sa petite voix douce et sévère: Songe à ton mari. Et, quand le mari et l'amant ne font qu'un, tout va bien.
Mariez donc la fileuse au chasseur, et ne craignez rien.
Cependant, je dois le dire, Pécopin aimait trop la chasse. Quand il était sur son cheval, quand il avait le faucon au poing ou quand il suivait le tartaret du regard, quand il entendait le jappement féroce de ses limiers aux jambes torses, il partait, il volait, il oubliait tout. Or en aucune chose il ne faut excéder. Le bonheur est fait de modération. Tenez en équilibre vos go?ts et en bride vos appétits. Qui aime trop les chevaux et les chiens fache les femmes; qui aime trop les femmes fache Dieu.
Lorsque Bauldour, et cela arrivait souvent, lorsque Bauldour voyait Pécopin prêt à partir sur son cheval hennissant de joie et plus fier que s'il e?t porté Alexandre le Grand en habits impériaux, lorsqu'elle voyait Pécopin le flatter, lui passer la main sur le cou, et, éloignant l'éperon du flanc, présenter au palefroi un bouquet d'herbe pour le rafra?chir, Bauldour était jalouse du cheval. Quand Bauldour, cette noble et fière demoiselle, cet astre d'amour, de jeunesse et de beauté, voyait Pécopin caresser son dogue et approcher amicalement de son charmant et male visage cette tête camuse, ces gros naseaux, ces larges oreilles et cette gueule noire, Bauldour était jalouse du chien.
Elle rentrait dans sa chambre secrète, courroucée et triste, et elle pleurait. Puis elle grondait ses servantes, et après ses servantes elle grondait son nain. Car la colère chez les femmes est comme la pluie dans la forêt; elle tombe deux fois. Bis pluit.
Le soir Pécopin arrivait poudreux et fatigué. Bauldour boudait et murmurait un peu avec une larme dans le coin de son ?il bleu. Mais Pécopin baisait sa petite main, et elle se taisait; Pécopin baisait son beau front, et elle souriait.
Le front de Bauldour était blanc, pur et admirable comme la trompe d'ivoire du roi Charlemagne.
Puis elle se retirait dans sa tourelle et Pécopin dans la sienne. Elle ne souffrait jamais que ce chevalier lui pr?t la ceinture. Un soir il lui pressa légèrement le coude, et elle rougit très-fort. Elle était fiancée et non mariée. Pudeur est à la femme ce que chevalerie est à l'homme.
According to Wikipedia: "Victor-Marie Hugo (26 February 1802 – 22 May 1885) was a French poet, playwright, novelist, essayist, visual artist, statesman, human rights activist and exponent of the Romantic movement in France. In France, Hugo's literary fame comes first from his poetry but also rests upon his novels and his dramatic achievements. Among many volumes of poetry, Les Contemplations and La Légende des siècles stand particularly high in critical esteem, and Hugo is sometimes identified as the greatest French poet. Outside France, his best-known works are the novels Les Misérables and Notre-Dame de Paris (known in English also as The Hunchback of Notre Dame). Though a committed conservative royalist when he was young, Hugo grew more liberal as the decades passed; he became a passionate supporter of republicanism, and his work touches upon most of the political and social issues and artistic trends of his time. He is buried in the Panthéon."
Notre-Dame de Paris (titre complet : Notre-Dame de Paris. 1482) est un roman historique de l'écrivain français Victor Hugo, publié en 1831.Le titre fait référence à la cathédrale de Paris, Notre-Dame, qui est un des lieux principaux de l'intrigue du roman. Le roman se compose de 59 chapitres répartis en onze livres. Dans la première édition du roman, paru chez Charles Gosselin en mars 1831, trois chapitres sont coupés en raison des contraintes de longueur imposées par l'éditeur : ce sont le chapitre « Impopularité » (IV, 4) ainsi que les deux chapitres formant le livre V (« Abbas beati Martini » et « Ceci tuera cela »). Ces chapitres sont publiés dans la deuxième édition, définitive, du roman et reproduits dans la présente édition
Les Misérables is a French historical novel by Victor Hugo, first published in 1862, that is considered one of the greatest novels of the 19th century. In the English-speaking world, the novel is usually referred to by its original French title. However, several alternatives have been used, including The Miserables, The Wretched, The Miserable Ones, The Poor Ones, The Wretched Poor, The Victims and The Dispossessed. Beginning in 1815 and culminating in the 1832 June Rebellion in Paris, the novel follows the lives and interactions of several characters, particularly the struggles of ex-convict Jean Valjean and his experience of redemption.
Life was a bed of roses for Debra, the daughter of Alpha. That was until she had a one-night stand with Caleb. She was sure he was her mate as determined by Moon Goddess. But this hateful man refused to accept her. Weeks passed before Debra discovered that she was pregnant. Her pregnancy brought shame to her and everyone she loved. Not only was she driven out, but her father was also hunted down by usurpers. Fortunately, she survived with the help of the mysterious Thorn Edge Pack. Five years passed and Debra didn't hear anything from Caleb. One day, their paths crossed again. They were both on the same mission—carrying out secret investigations in the dangerous Roz Town for the safety and posterity of their respective packs. Caleb was still cold toward her. But as time went on, he fell head over heels in love with her. He tried to make up for abandoning her, but Debra wasn't having any of it. She was hell-bent on hiding her daughter from him and also making a clean break. What did the future hold for the two as they journeyed in Roz Town? What kind of secrets would they find? Would Caleb win Debra's heart and get to know his lovely daughter? Find out!
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Sandra Hill, the long-lost real heiress of the Hill family, was shunned by her own kin. Instead of embracing her, they bestowed their affection upon an impostor. They even arranged her to marry a vegetative man in place of her so-called “sister”. Sandra sneered, refusing to put up with this humiliation, cut off ties with the Hill family immediately and ran into the flash marriage with Wesley Cooper, her unconscious billionaire husband. With her incredible medical skills, she defied the odds and revived him. Little did she expect that her husband spoiled her with all his love... A medical genius, a computer prodigy, a national treasure in painting, and a racing legend... Her husband revealed her various identities, leaving the Hill family regretful. Her father came pleading, "It's Dad's fault. Please come back." Her mother wept, "Mom will protect you from now on. Please come back." Even her five brothers knelt before he, begging for forgiveness. Yet, Sandra's smile held a hint of mockery as she vowed, “Never!”