"After disregarding such an
appeal as this M. Narcisse had better keep clear of Paris for the
future, for if he should go back and be recognised I fancy it would
be a case of 'conspuvez Narcisse."'
"The French seem to have lost all sense of exactness," said Mrs.
Gradinger, "for the lines you have just read would not pass muster
as classic. In the penultimate line there are two syllables in
excess of the true Alexandrine metre, and the last line seems too
long by one. Neither Racine nor Voltaire would have taken such
liberties with prosody. I remember a speech in Phaedre of more
than a hundred lines which is an admirable example of what I mean.
I dare say some of you know it. It begins:--
"Perfide! oses-tu bien te montrer devant moi? Monstre,"
but before the reciter could get fairly under way the door
mercifully opened, and Sir John entered. He advanced towards the
Marchesa, and shook her warmly by the hand, but said nothing; his
heart was evidently yet too full to allow him to testify his relief
in words.
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