But, though it may sound absurd to you, it was the blow on the _heart_ about the peace after all that excitement and exultation, that walking on the clouds for weeks and months, and then the sudden stroke and fall, and the impotent rage against all the nations of the earth--selfish, inhuman, wicked--who forced the hand of Napoleon, and truncated his great intentions.

Many young men of Florence were confined to their beds by the emotion of the news.

As for me, I was struck, couldn't sleep, talked too much, and (the intense heat rendering one more susceptible, perhaps) at last this bad attack came on.

Robert has been perfect to me.

For more than a fortnight he gave up all his nights' rest to me, and even now he teaches Pen.