John Singer Sargent paintings

John Singer Sargent paintings
Jean-Leon Gerome paintings
reck but little of my power, were I, within my own dominions, to yield place to mortal man.—Now, sirs, who hath seen our chaplain? where is our curtal Friar? A mass amongst Christian men best begins a busy morning.” No one had seen the Clerk of Copmanhurst. “Over gods forbode!” said the outlaw chief, “I trust the jolly priest hath but abidden by the wine-pot a thought too late. Who saw him since the castle was ta’en?”
“I,” quoth the Miller, “marked him busy about the door of a cellar, swearing by each saint in the calendar he would taste the smack of Front-de-Bœuf’s Gascoigne wine.”
“Now, the saints, as many as there be of them,” said the Captain, “forefend, lest he had drunk too deep of the wine-butts, and perished by the fall of the castle!— Away, Miller!—take with you enow of men, seek the place where you last saw him—throw water from the moat on the scorching ruins—I will have them removed stone by stone ere I lose my curtal friar.”