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Chargement... Black Bartlemy's treasure (1920)par Jeffery Farnol
Information sur l'oeuvreBlack Bartlemys Treasure, vol. 1 par Jeffery Farnol (1920)
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Inscrivez-vous à LibraryThing pour découvrir si vous aimerez ce livre Actuellement, il n'y a pas de discussions au sujet de ce livre. Recently re-read this after many years and still love it. It's a proper swashbuckling, bodice-ripping, sea-faring rip-roarer set in about 1650, full of colourful characters and colourful piratical language - though all strangely innocent now. In between there's lots to be learned about surviving on a desert island. The hero is consumed with vengeful thoughts which will likely destroy his chances of ending up happy with the heroine, and this theme is rather repetitiously rammed home. I didn't claim that it was great literature! You don't find out how it ends unless you read the sequel "Martin Conisby's vengeance". I'd call it comfort reading. Please don't tell anyone in my book group! ( ) aucune critique | ajouter une critique
Appartient à la sérieBlack Bartlemy (1)
The Frenchman beside me had been dead since dawn. His scarred and shackled body swayed limply back and forth with every sweep of the great oar as we, his less fortunate bench-fellows, tugged and strained to keep time to the stroke. Two men had I seen die beside me, yet Death ever passed me by, nay, it seemed rather that despite the pain of stripes, despite the travail and hardship, my strength waxed the mightier; upon arm and thigh, burnt nigh black by fierce suns, the muscles showed hard and knotted; within my body, scarred by the lash, the life leapt and glowed yet was the soul of me sick unto death. But it seemed I could not die-finding thereby blessed rest and a surcease from this agony of life as had this Frenchman, who of all the naked wretches about me, was the only one with whom I had any sort of fellowship. He had died (as I say) with the dawn, so quietly that at first I thought he but fainted and pitied him, but, when I knew, pity changed to bitterness. Therefore, as I strove at the heavy oar I prayed 'twixt gnashing teeth a prayer I had often prayed, and the matter of my praying was thus: "O God of Justice, for the agony I needs must now endure, for the bloody stripes and bitter anguish give to me vengeance-vengeance, O God, on mine enemy!" Aucune description trouvée dans une bibliothèque |
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