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25 new of 278 responses total.
md
response 242 of 278: Mark Unseen   May 31 11:25 UTC 1999

A monarch who had headaches from "the V------," 
which I assume means the Vikings.  That's a lot
of monarchs, unfortunately.  I'll guess Charlemagne.
lowclass
response 243 of 278: Mark Unseen   May 31 12:14 UTC 1999

        I DOn"T know who, but I'll venture a couple guesses as to when.

1. Spanish armada, during the war between Spain and England.

2. War of 1812.

#. Revolutionary war. Possibly John Laffite?
janc
response 244 of 278: Mark Unseen   May 31 17:01 UTC 1999

Julius Caesar
flem
response 245 of 278: Mark Unseen   May 31 17:19 UTC 1999

Julius Caesar is correct.  The V------ tribe was the Veneti, located on 
the westernmost protrusion of what is now France.  The first quotation 
was from the Civil Wars, the second from the Gallic Wars.  It is 
interesting that the language of military campaigns has changed so 
little in the 2000 years since this was written; these quotations were 
very easily mistaken for more or less modern military situations.  With 
the exception of words like "centurion" and "legion", I've found this to 
be fairly consistently the case in this book.  

Jan is up!
janc
response 246 of 278: Mark Unseen   May 31 21:40 UTC 1999

I once read an abridged version of "The Gallic Wars" in Latin.

A quotation:

  ...followed by Biskaine and the negroes, [Sakr-el-Bahr] made his way down
from that eyrie that had served him so well.  He sprang from red oak to cork-
tree and from cork-tree to red oak; he leapt from rock to rock, or lowered
himself from ledge to ledge, gripping a handful of heath or a projecting
stone, but all with the speed and nimbleness of an ape.  He dropped at last
to the beach, then sped across it at a run, and went bounding along a black
reef until he stood alongside of the galliot which had been left behind by
the other corsair vessels.  She awaited him in deep water, the length of her
oars from the rock, and as he came alongside, these oars were brought up to
the horizontal, and held there firmly.  He leapt down upon them, his
companions following him, and using them as a gangway, reached the bulwarks.
He threw a leg over the side, and alighted on a decked space between two oars
and the two rows of six slaves that were manning each of them.
  Biskaine followed him and the negroes came last.  They were still astride
the bulwarks when Sakr-el-Bahr gave the word.  Up the middle gangway ran a
bo'sun and two of his mates cracking their long whips of bullock-hide.  Down
went the oars, there was a heave, and they shot out in the wake of the other
two to join the fight.
  Sakr-el-Bahr, scimitar in hand, stood on the prow, a little in advance of
the mob of eager babbling corsairs who surrounded him, quivering in their
impatience to be let loose upon the Christian foe.  From the mast-head floated
out his standard, of crimson charged with a green crescent.
  The naked Christian slaves groaned, strained and sweated under the Moslem
lash that drove them to the destruction of their Christian bretheren.
  Ahead the battle was already joined.  The Spaniard had fired one single
hasty shot which had gone wide, and now one of the corsair's grappling-irons
had seized her on the larboard quarter, a withering hail of arrows was pouring
down upon her decks from the Muslim crosstrees; up her sides crowded the eager
Moors, ever most eager when it was a question of tackling the Spanish dogs
who had driven them from the Andalusian Caliphate.  Under her quarter sped
the other galley to take her on the starboard side, and even as she went her
archers and slingers hurled death aboard the galleon.
  It was a short, sharp fight.  The Spaniards in confusion from the beginning,
having been taken utterly by surprise, had never been able to order themselves
in a proper manner to receive the onslaught.  Still, what could be done they
did.  They made a gallant stand against this pitiless assailant.  But the
corsairs charged home as gallantly, utterly reckless of life, eager to slay
in the name of Allah and His Prophet and scarcely less eager to die if it
should please All-pitiful that their destines should be here fulfilled.  Up
they went, and back fell the Castilians, outnumbered by at least ten to one.
flem
response 247 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 2 00:12 UTC 1999

My, we're taking a morbid turn in this item.  :)

Burroughs?
janc
response 248 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 2 13:58 UTC 1999

Not Burroughs, though it sure does sound like him, doesn't it?  Unlike
Burroughs, this author was not known for science fiction.
lilmo
response 249 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 2 22:25 UTC 1999

It seems to be at least mildly sympathetic to the Moors, so it must have been
written LONG after the 15th-century events depicted.

Also, the word "Muslim" is used, so that dates it to the late 20th century;
before that, "Mohommedan" (and variations thereupon) were MUCH more common.
janc
response 250 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 3 21:46 UTC 1999

I don't know exactly when this book was written.  Sometime in the 20th
century, before 1940.  I had planned to do the next quote from another
book by the same author, but I can't fetch it just now without waking
Arlo.  We'll instead take another scene from the career of Sakr-el-Bahr:

  They sight which they beheld was one that for some moments left them
mazed and bewildered.  Lord Henry tells us how at first he imagined that
here was some mummery, some surprise prepared for the bridal couple by
Sir John's tenants or the folk of Smithick and Penycumwick, and he adds
that he was encouraged in this belief by the circumstance that not a
single weapon gleamed in all that horde of outlandish intruders. 
Although they came full armed against any eventualities, yet by their
leader's orders not a blade was bared.  What was to be done was to be
done with their naked hands alone and without bloodshed.  Such were the
orders of Sakr-el-Bahr, and Sakr-el-Bahr's orders were not to be
disregarded.
  Himself he stood forward at the head of that legion of brown-skinned
men arrayed in all the colours of the rainbow, their heads swathed in
turbans of every hue.  He considered the company in grim silence, and
the company in amazement considered this turbaned giant with the
masterful face that was tanned to the colour of mahogeny, the black
forked beard, and those singularly light eyes glittering like steel
under his black brows.
  Thus a little while in silence, then with a sudden gasp Lionel
Tressilian sank back in his tall chair as if bereft of strength.
  The agate eyes flashed upon him smiling, cruelly.
  "I see that you, at least, recognize me," said Sakr-el-Bahr in his
deep voice.  "I was assured that I could depend upon the eyes of
brotherly love to pierce the change that time and stress have wrought in
me."
  Sir John was on his feet, his lean swarthy face flushing darkly, an
oath on his lips.  Rosamund sat on as if frozen with horror, considering
Sir Oliver with dilating eyes, whilst her hands clawed the table before
her.  They too recognized him now, and realized that here was no
mummery.  That something sinister was intended Sir John could not for a
moment doubt.  But of what that something might be he could form no
notion.  It was the first time that Barbary rovers were seen in England.
That famous raid of theirs upon Baltimore in Ireland did not take place
until some thirty years after this date.
  "Sir Oliver Tressilian!" Killigrew gasped, and "Sir Oliver
Tressilian!" echoed Lord Henry Goade, to add -- "By God!"
  "Not Sir Oliver Tressilian," came the answer, "but Sakr-el-Bahr, the
scourge of the sea, the terror of Christendom, the desperate corsair
your lies, cupidity, and false-heartedness have fashioned out of a
sometime Cornish gentleman."
punky
response 251 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 3 22:25 UTC 1999

Is it Hermann Hresse?

janc
response 252 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 4 03:43 UTC 1999

Nope, not Hesse.  These quotations were originally written in English - they
are not translations.
janc
response 253 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 8 17:12 UTC 1999

Another quote, from another book by the same author:

  On they came until the Colonel was abreast of Blood.  He would have
passed on, but that lady tapped his arm with her whip.
  "But this is the man I meant," she said.
  "This one?" Contempt rang in the voice.  Peter Blood found himself
staring into a pair of beady brown eyes sunk into a yellow fleshy face
like currants into a dumpling.  He felt the colour creeping into his
face under the insult of that contemptuous inspection.  "Bah!  A bag of
bones.  What should I do with him?"
  He was turning away when Gardner interposed.
  "He may be lean, but he's tough; tough and healthy.  When half of them
was sick and the other half sickening, this rogue kept his legs and
doctored his fellows.  But for him there'd ha' been more deaths than
there was.  Say fifteen pounds for him, Colonel.  That's cheap enough. 
He's tough, I tell your honour--tough and strong, though he be lean. 
And he's just the man to bear the heat when it comes.  The climate'll
never kill him."
  There came a chuckle from Governor Steed.  "You hear, Colonel.  Trust
your neice.  Here sex knows a man when it sees one."  And he laughed,
well pleased with his wit.
  But he laughed alone.  A cloud of annoyance swept across the face of
the Colonel's niece, whilst the Colonel himself was too absorbed in the
consideration of this bargain to heed the Governor's humour.  He twisted
his lip a little, stroking his chin with his hand the while.  Jeremy
Pitt had almost ceased to breathe.
  "I'll give you ten pounds for him," said the Colonel at last.
  Peter Blood prayed the offer might be rejected.  For no reason that he
could have given you, he was taken with repugnance at the thought of
becoming the property of that hazel-eyed girl. But it would need more
than repuganance to save him from his destiny.  A slave is a slave, and
has no power to shape his fate.  Peter Blood was sold to Colonel Bishop-
a disdainful buyer - for the ignominious sum of five pounds.
davel
response 254 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 9 11:34 UTC 1999

No idea who it is.  But I can't help wondering how the seller came to accept
only half of the buyer's original offer.
aruba
response 255 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 9 13:51 UTC 1999

I was wondering that too.
janc
response 256 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 9 18:36 UTC 1999

Oops, the "five pounds" in the last line was a typo for "ten pounds". 
My brain must have been wandering.
janc
response 257 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 9 18:39 UTC 1999

Hmmm...I thought this author was only mildly obscure, but I may have
misjudged.  Well, I'll do a quote that is more of a dead giveaway in a
few days.  Probably this author's work is best known from the movie
versions.
mcnally
response 258 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 9 19:08 UTC 1999

  Rafael Sabatini..
flem
response 259 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 9 21:44 UTC 1999

Damn, too late.  Reading that made me think immediately of the movie 
version of "Captain Blood", which quick research shows to have been 
based on a book by Sabatini...
  'course, I don't know that it's right; just would've guessed it myself 
if I'd been quicker.  :)
janc
response 260 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 10 02:06 UTC 1999

Mike has it!

The first two quotes were from "The Sea Hawk".  The last was from "Captain
Blood."  He seems to be a quite highly regarded adventure writer, both for
pure entertainment and for historical accuracy.  But most of his books are
out of print and his name isn't well known anymore.  But there seems to be
something of a Sabatini revival going lately.
anderyn
response 261 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 11 01:05 UTC 1999

Sabatini rocks! (I have a whole lot of his books!)
mcnally
response 262 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 20 22:43 UTC 1999

  As with the Grex Jeopardy! item, I'll post a new "mysterious" quote
  after the conference restart.
bookworm
response 263 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 22 16:25 UTC 1999

Dern.  Are we restarting already?
remmers
response 264 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 22 17:01 UTC 1999

We are, and did.
mrmat
response 265 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 22 20:25 UTC 1999

,
davel
response 266 of 278: Mark Unseen   Jun 23 19:05 UTC 1999

But it still hasn't been linked into Books, yet.  <sigh>
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