"Those chords give the fifth and the
octave," said Mr.
To which the devil, stopping the cart, answered quietly, "Senor, we are players of Angulo el Malo's company; we have been acting the play of 'The Cortes of Death' this morning, which is the
octave of Corpus Christi, in a village behind that hill, and we have to act it this afternoon in that village which you can see from this; and as it is so near, and to save the trouble of undressing and dressing again, we go in the costumes in which we perform.
I think that's within an
octave of it." He struck the note again, and appealed to Bruno, who was standing at his side.
This first part is called the
octave, from the Latin word octo, eight.
Then, without circumlocution or apology, first pronounced the word "Standish," and placing the unknown engine, already described, to his mouth, from which he drew a high, shrill sound, that was followed by an
octave below, from his own voice, he commenced singing the following words, in full, sweet, and melodious tones, that set the music, the poetry, and even the uneasy motion of his ill- trained beast at defiance; "How good it is, O see, And how it pleaseth well, Together e'en in unity, For brethren so to dwell.
The guide sounded two sonorous notes, about half an
octave apart; the echo answered with the most enchanting, the most melodious, the richest blending of sweet sounds that one can imagine.
But as she ain't here; just pitch it an
octave or two lower, will you, and I'll not only be obliged to you, but it'll do you more credit," says Mr.
Bianchon, Lucien de Rubempre,
Octave de Camps, the Comte de Granville, the Vicomte de Fontaine, du Bruel the vaudevillist, Andoche Finot the journalist, Derville, one of the best heads in the law courts, the Comte du Chatelet, deputy, du Tillet, banker, and several elegant young men, such as Paul de Manerville and the Vicomte de Portenduere.
The human eye is an imperfect instrument; its range is but a few
octaves of the real 'chromatic scale.' I am not mad; there are colors that we cannot see.
She played a dreamy waltz, marking the time with the bass, while with the right hand she `tiddled' in alternate
octaves. By way of a change she crossed her hands and played the air in the bass.
Delia Caruthers did things in six
octaves so promisingly in a pine- tree village in the South that her relatives chipped in enough in her chip hat for her to go "North" and "finish." They could not see her f--, but that is our story.
The air was calm, full of the eternal hum of insects, a tropical chorus of many
octaves, from the deep drone of the bee to the high, keen pipe of the mosquito.