#imperial decree | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

empirearchives · 22 days

Text

Napoleon’s decree in 1810: First regulation limiting pollution in French history

Source: Décret impérial du 15/10/1810

This comes after the creation of the Public Hygiene and Health Council of the City of Paris on 6 July 1802, and each department getting its own Health Council.

In addition, the ordinance of the Prefect of Police on 12 February 1806 concerning preliminary investigations then authorization necessary for factories, workshops and laboratories producing polluting or dangerous products.

According to Éloi Laurent (Towards Social-Ecological Well-Being):

“The first laws regulating French industrial establishments and in particular the imperial decree of October 15, 1810 was the first legislation in the world regulating pollution (it was extended by the law of December 19, 1917).”

Below is an English translation of the 1810 decree.

————-

Imperial decree of 10/15/1810 relating to factories and workshops that emit an unhealthy or inconvenient odor.

NAPOLEON, Emperor of the French, King of Italy, Protector of the Confederation of the Rhine, Mediator of the Swiss Confederation;

On the report of our Minister of the Interior;

Considering the complaints brought by various individuals against factories and workshops whose operation gives rise to unhealthy or inconvenient exhalations;

The report made on these establishments by the chemistry section of the physical and mathematical sciences class of the Institute;

Our Council of State heard;

We HAVE DECREED and DECREE the following:

Article 1 of the decree of 15 October 1810

As of the publication of this decree, factories and workshops which emit an unhealthy or inconvenient odor may not be formed without permission from the administrative authority: these establishments will be divided into three classes.

The first will include those who must be located away from private homes.

The second will include factories and workshops whose distance from homes is not strictly necessary, but which should only be set up once it is certain that the operations carried out there will not inconvenience or cause damage to neighboring homeowners.

In the third class will be establishments which can remain near homes without inconvenience, but must remain subject to surveillance by the police.

Article 2 of the decree of 15 October 1810

The necessary permission for the formation of factories and workshops included in the first class will be granted, with the following formalities, by a decree issued by our Council of State.

Permission for the operation of establishments in the second class will be granted by the prefects, on the advice of the sub-prefects.

Permissions for the operation of establishments in the last class will be issued by sub-prefects, who will first obtain the opinion of the mayors.

Article 3 of the decree of 15 October 1810

Permission for first class plants and factories will only be granted subject to the following formalities:

The request for authorization will be presented to the prefect, and posted, by his order, in all communes within a five kilometer radius.

Within this period, any individual will be allowed to present grounds of opposition.

The mayors of the communes will have the same right.

Article 4 of the decree of 15 October 1810

If there is opposition, the Prefecture Council will weigh in, with the exception of a decision by the Council of State.

Article 5 of the decree of 15 October 1810

If there is no opposition, permission will be granted, if necessary, on the advice of the prefect and the report of our Minister of the Interior.

Article 6 of the decree of 15 October 1810

If it concerns a soude[*] factory, or if the factory is to be established within the customs area, our Director of Customs will be consulted.

Article 7 of the decree of 15 October 1810

Authorization to form factories and workshops in the second class will only be granted after the following formalities have been completed.

The entrepreneur will first send his request to the sub-prefect of his arrondissement, who will forward it to the mayor of the commune in which the establishment is to be formed; by instructing him to carry out a de commodo et incommodo[**] enquiry. Once this is completed, the sub-prefect will issue a decree which he will forward to the prefect. The prefect will make the decision, unless any interested parties appeal to our Council of State.

If there is opposition, it will be decided by the Prefecture Council, except for an appeal to the Council of State.

Article 8 of the decree of 15 October 1810

Factories or establishments in the third class can only be formed with the permission of the Prefect of Police, in Paris, and the mayor in other towns.

If complaints arise against the decision taken by the Prefect of Police or the mayors, on a request to form a factory or workshop included in the third class, they will be judged by the Prefecture Council.

Article 9 of the decree of 15 October 1810

The local authority will indicate the place where the factories or workshops included in the first class may be established, and will specify its distance from private dwellings. Any individual who carries out construction in the vicinity of these factories and workshops after their establishment has been authorized will no longer be allowed to request their removal.

Article 10 of the decree of 15 October 1810

Establishments that emit an unhealthy or inconvenient odor will be divided into three classes in accordance with the table appended to this imperial decree. It will serve as a rule whenever it comes to deciding on requests for the formation of these establishments.

Article 11 of the decree of 15 October 1810

The provisions of this decree will not have retroactive effect: consequently, all establishments currently in operation will continue to operate freely, with the exception of any damages to which contractors may be liable in the event of damage to the property of their neighbors; such damages will be settled by the courts.

Article 12 of the decree of 15 October 1810

However, in the event of serious inconvenience for public health, culture, or the general interest, first-class factories and workshops causing such inconvenience may be suppressed by virtue of a decree issued by our Council of State, after having heard the local police, taken the opinion of the prefects and received the defense of the manufacturers.

Article 13 of the decree of 15 October 1810

Establishments maintained under article 11 will cease to enjoy this benefit as soon as they are transferred to another location, or if there is a six-month interruption in their work. In either case, they will fall into the category of establishments to be formed, and they will not be able to resume activity until they have obtained a new permit, if necessary.

Article 14 of the decree of 15 October 1810

Our Ministers of the Interior and the General Police are each responsible for the execution of the present decree, which will be published in the Bulletin of Laws.

NAPOLEON

By the Emperor:

Minister Secretary of State,

H. B. DUKE OF BASSANO

——————

My notes:

Attached to this decree is an appendix with

“nomenclature of factories, establishments and workshops emitting an unhealthy or inconvenient odor, which may not be set up without permission from the Administrative Authority.”

Some of the substances listed can be translated and some cannot. I recommend going to the link at the top of this post to check it out if interested.

[*] Soude definition

[**] De commodo et incommodo definition

Public Hygiene and Health Council of the City of Paris is a translation of Conseil d'hygiène publique et de salubrité de la Ville de Paris

An additional source on this legislation: Fondation Napoléon

16 notes · View notes

richo1915 · 1 year

Text

A Golden Bull or Chrysobull was a decree issued by Byzantine Emperors.

The term was originally coined for the golden seal attached to the decree, but came to be applied to the entire decree. Such decrees were known as golden bulls in western Europe and chrysobullos logos, or chrysobulls, in the Byzantine Empire.

For nearly eight hundred years, they were issued unilaterally, without obligations on the part of the other party or parties. However, this eventually proved disadvantageous as the Byzantines sought to restrain the efforts of foreign powers to undermine the empire. During the 12th century, the Byzantines began to insert into golden bulls sworn statements of the obligations of their negotiating partners.

The Golden Bull of 1082, issued by Alexios I Komnenos to grant Venice merchants with free trading rights, exempt from tax, throughout the Byzantine Empire in return for their defense of the Adriatic Sea against the Normans.

#book #byzantium and venice #history #chrysobull #imperial decree

2 notes · View notes

neokyanyoa · 1 year

Text

"Hey, bro?"

"Yeah, what's up dude?"

"How much do you think the Empress, like, knows about us?"

"I mean, those Psions always seem to be on top of that kind of stuff. What's got you askin'?"

"Well, I'm asking because, does she like, know we used to be in cahoots with Calus? Like, right up until the guy disappeared for a bit and came back all mushroom-y. If she showed up a few weeks earlier, they would'a caught us with our hands in the loot jar. Had to scramble to scrap all my gear I got from him soon as the armistice went up. Still miss that old shotty."

"Huh. .. Yeah, huh. I guess if she did know, then we'd be having this conversation back at the Farm, wouldn't we. That or she woulda at least made some big decree about Cabal honor or.. wag her finger at Capital G, or something."

"Good point, yeah. .. I'm gonna keep my distance from those Optus guys either way."

#destiny 2 #microfiction #cabal #shotgun #imperial decree

5 notes · View notes

chronomally · 2 months

Text

Li Yu and the crown prince are so lovey-dovey even the emperor finds them disgusting

#please feel free to ignore this #I'm reading The Disabled Tyrant's Pet Palm Fish #Issuing an imperial decree to prevent the two of you from appearing in front of me at the same time because it makes me want to vomit #WE GET IT. YOU LOVE EACH OTHER

3 notes · View notes

yersina · 2 years

Note

If you're still doing SClass prompts, I'd love if you continued the one where Yoojin is an overnight convenient store clerk beloved by high-ranking Hunters for his no-fear attitude.

[continuation of this post]

Yoojin really has no idea how Soyoung manages to have this much energy at four in the morning.

“Hey hey, Mr. Yoojin-ssi, what snacks do you recommend?” she chirps, peering intensely at the available selection in the snack aisle.

“Don’t you usually have something in mind already when you come here?” he replies. He rubs his eyes tiredly and winces at the burn in them. He hadn't managed to get much sleep the previous night, and now he’s paying for it.

Soyoung shrugs and pokes at a bag of chips. “Yeah, but I only ever crave food that I’ve had before. I want to try something new!”

“That’s right, Kang Soyoung-nim is from Britain, isn’t she?” Yoojin props his chin up on his hand and hums consideringly. “Are you looking for something more salty or sweet right now?”

“Anything that Mr. Yoojin-ssi would recommend!”

Yoojin sighs. That narrows things down. “Choco pie is popular,” he says, pointing at a red box of the chocolate-covered cakes.

“I’ve had those already,” Soyoung pouts. “I do like them, though.”

“What about custard cakes?”

“Oh, I haven’t tried those yet!” Soyoung grabs a box of the snacks and clutches it to her chest. “Anything else?”

Yoojin stares at her. “Isn’t that enough?” He already knows Soyoung is planning on scarfing down the whole box as soon as she steps out of the convenience store. She might not even wait until she’s out the doors.

“Mr. Yoojin-ssi,” Soyoung chides, “I’m a growing girl! I can never have enough snacks.” Yoojin distinctly remembers Yoohyun using a similar excuse in the past.

“If you want something saltier, you can try honey butter chips,” he says, pointing further down the aisle. Soyoung is actually lucky that she’s in so early for once—the chips sell out pretty quickly.

Soyoung shuffles over to where Yoojin had pointed, but she stares down at the bag dubiously. “I do like honey,” she says hesitantly, like she’s trying to convince herself. “And I like butter…” Maybe they don’t have honey butter flavored chips in Britain.

Yoojin sighs again and gestures for Soyoung to bring the bag of chips to him. “Here,” he says, scanning the bag and swiping his own card. “If you don’t like it, you can just give the rest back to me, okay?”

He flinches when he sees the glistening tears in her eyes. “Mr. Yoojin-ssi is so generous,” she sniffs, dabbing at her eyes delicately. It’s so dramatic that Yoojin has to resist the urge to laugh at the display. “Are you sure? I can just pay for it myself, really.”

“Just eat your chips,” he says, pushing the bag back across the counter at her and trading it for the box of custard cakes that she’s still holding on to. He scans it while she opens the bag and watches with amusement as she attempts to juggle a chip in one hand and get her card out with the other.

Once she finally manages to pay for her snacks, she pops the chip in her mouth and chews cautiously. “Huh,” she says, making a face. “It’s sweet.”

“It’s honey butter flavored,” Yoojin points out.

“Yeah, but I still wasn’t expecting this. I’ve only ever had salty chips before.” She pauses thoughtfully before reaching for another chip. “I guess it’s not that bad.”

Yoojin snorts but pushes the rest of the bag towards her. “Enjoy your catch for today, Kang Soyoung-nim.”

Soyoung frowns at him petulantly even while gathering her spoils for that morning. “C’mon, Mr. Yoojin-ssi, you don’t have to be so formal with me, y’know!”

“You call me ‘Mr. Yoojin-ssi’,” he points out reasonably, though he stumbles over the foreign form of address with his fading memories of his meager English education.

“So I’ll call you oppa, and then you can call me Soyoung-ah!” Yoojin politely refrains from pointing out that snatches of conversation at too-early hours of the morning aren’t really a foundation for building a close relationship. “C’mon, oppa,” she says pleadingly, leaning closer with her overly dramatic puppy eyes. “Even the guild master only calls me Miss Soyoung and he’s probably the person that I’m closest with outside of Evelyn and I just speak English with Evelyn.”

Yoojin’s not quite sure what to make of that word jumble, but he still feels a pang of echoed loneliness at the idea that this bright young girl’s closest friends are two of her guild members and a tired man at a convenience store.

“Fine… Soyoung-ah,” he mutters, and can’t help his smile when Soyoung pumps her fist with an unsubtle ‘yes!’

“Thanks, oppa! I’ll see you next time!” And then she bounds out of the store.

Yoojin keeps his composure for the next ten seconds, just long enough to make sure that no other customers are going to come in right away, before succumbing to exhaustion and laying his head down on his folded arms.

God, kids are so tiring.

#lunaryugamine #sina writes #sctir #s classes that i raised #fanfiction #convenience store au #i was originally going to write this abt pre-reg yerim before I remembered that the timeline wouldn’t match up #curse my dedication to canon compliance #i can’t remember how shj usually refers to ksy but by imperial author decree it’s now miss soyoung #canon hyj watching this yj become exhausted after interacting w one (1) a-rank hunter: 🤡

105 notes · View notes

tsscat · 2 years

Text

#now if we REALLY wanted to get into it #upper caste Indians also aided in the British empire #in fact much of the British empire’s whole thing is getting people they colonize to aid in the imperialism/colonialism of people decreed by #WASP brits to be ‘lower’#so just as english colonized scots and Welsh and Irish and they in turn helped them colonize Indians #UC Indians who were victims British imperialism/colonialism also helped the Brits maintain the colonial system #such that the caste system was maintained #I don’t know if that makes sense but yeah #Tara talks

13 notes · View notes

thebibliomancer · 2 years

Text

#hulkling #lauri ell #mur-g’nn #she definitely did not crap herself when a brood grabbed her #that’s an imperial decree #marvel’s voices young avengers

6 notes · View notes

pendwelling · 2 days

Text

The Master of the Mage's Tower always passes by to pay Her Grace a visit.

"Mother hates the colour red,

... so why...?"

The Archmage of the Empire and the Master of the Mage's Tower: Isfrid Skirmen van der Toorn.

(YES, Lady Isfrid has a thing for Her Grace.)

(NO, Her Grace isn't aware of this...)

Additional trivia if you haven't been following my IG Stories! :

Chest window on full display yet the Grand Duchess only ever privately wonders if the Tower's Archmage can feel the cold (they're up north 😭...)

Upon joining the Mage's Tower, mages renounce their familial ties (and even nationalities) in order to declare themselves as neutral in the Empire's political sphere, therefore announcing themselves as fully dedicated to the Tower and their duties. There is some leeway, however, as magically-supported businesses/public conveniences requiring the use of magical artifacts /do/ require the help of mages (money has to be made to earn livings, after all).

The mages who join thus discard their original surnames and oftentimes as a result either: 1.) pick a new one to symbolize new beginnings and ambitions, or 2.) use the Tower's epithet as a stand-in ("Van der Toorn" can be considered just as prestigious and honourable as a Duke's surname, after all, so there's no true loss in the end! Becoming part of the Tower means you are one of the elite and highest-grade mages—former nobles and commoners alike are on equal grounds, in an atmosphere of collaborative learning and (generally friendly) competitive magical academia, with many helpful and support resources provided for them.)

Essentially they're magical researchers and/or.... public servant hermits......... Though they do assist the Crown, the Head of the Tower is the one everyone truly answers to. If Lady Skirmen disapproves of an Imperial Decree, who is the Crown to rebuke her? What are they going to do? What CAN they do? This is why political neutrality is important for such powerful beings.... Thankfully, Isfrid isn't interested in world continental domination haha (her interests lay solely elsewhere... 👀)

#ysbrand duchy #kleyn de ysbrand #isfried skirmen van der toorn #all mages of the Tower take on the titles of “van der Toorn”#YES Lady Isfrid has a thing for Her Grace #(NO Her Grace isnt aware of this...)#pendwelling ocs

83 notes · View notes

dailyadventureprompts · 4 months

Text

Dungeon: The Seeping Tombs

The learned and pious council of the king's advisors concluded that if sickness was a sign of moral failing, that medicine was a form of ennoblement allowing the sinner to bypass suffering without repentance. By royal decree the healers were thrown in along with their patients, the gates sealed behind them.

Constructed during an age of ignorance, these now innocuous ruins were used as a prison for those who had committed no crime besides falling ill. Pestilence ravaged the land, and after years of failing or outright refusing to control its spread the old king and his pious inner circle began to resent the masses who suffered under under their misrule.

The building that became the tombs was already under construction, intended as the foundations for a great temple dedicated to the king's imperious patron deity. When the work crews grew sick their bodies were passed into the lowest reaches to prevent the spread of miasma, joined soon after by dead from the local villages, and eventually those afflicted but still living.

It was not long after the gates were sealed that something otherworldly come to dwell within the tomb, suborning the natural process of decay causing those interred within to rot into a sickening and malevolent sludge.

Adventure Hook: A new magical malady besets those descended form the king and his pious council, and though some have inherited their forebearers' zeal and callousness many others are quite innocent. When traditional cures fail, The party are hired to seek an answer, and whether through research or the consultation of oracles find themselves pointed towards the seeping tombs. Irony of ironies, this exact sickness was being looked into by talented physician condemned by the king's order, consigned along with her research to a squalid death among those she tried to save.

Whatever the source of the present malady, it has a sense of cruel justice that the party should be wary of.

Challenges & Complications:

Summoned by the prolonged fear, suffering, and affliction of those trapped within the tombs, Juiblex, demon sovereign of ooze, has consecrated the tombs as an altar to despair and wretchedness. The tunnels are overrun with its spawn, along with undead who's spirits cannot rest for all the cruelty that was done to them in life.

The longer and deeper the party explore, the more sick they're likely to get.

Early chambers of this dungeon are a great excuse to use the classic "what looks like a skeletal warrior approaching slowly down a corridor is actually a gelatinous cube & its last meal" encounter, which is a treat in and of itself.

The upper reaches of the tomb are controlled by a nest of ghoulish knights and footmen, who were originally tasked with driving droves of the sick into the dungeon, only to find themselves sealed inside along with the afflicted. As fearful and proud as their departed liege, they play at piety and honour willing to lend aid to the party for a chance to escape the tombs and run rampant on the surface.

The middle reaches of the tomb see the party exploring twisting, sticky corridors, their progress fenced in by portcullises and other defences that need to be opened remotely. These hurdles do not stop the level's guardian, a massive and inexorable ooze that will chase the party with relentless slowness once alerted. Expect an oddly paced chase scene as the party works on opening a path forward while trying not to get trapped in a room by the sludgy green tide.

The cure to the magical malady lays with it's source: the ghost of the masterful physician who's long simmering resentment has manifested as a curse. Having been denied the chance to save her patients, she must be convinced why she should allow her research to be used to save the realm's ungrateful rulers while the victims of their callousness go unmourned. Her counter-offer is as brutal as it is poetic: Let the sickness at the heart of the kingdom devour those who benefit from it, and let the future come as it may.

Art 1

Art 2

#dungeon forest #undead #ooze #juiblex #heironeous #mid level #sickness #plague #disaster #ruin #dungeon crawl

143 notes · View notes

upennmanuscripts · 7 months

Text

LJS 48 contains notarial copies of decrees and grants relating to Giovanni Faella of Verona and his family, mostly written by imperial notary Francesco di Andrea Ruffo in 1504, with a long addition by imperial notary Alessandro di Nicolo Medico dated 1530.

🔗:

#medieval #renaissance #manuscript #medieval manuscript #illuminated manuscript #illumination #16th century #renaissance art #book history #rare books

176 notes · View notes

empirearchives · 19 days

Text

Paris Fire Brigade — The fire department of the city of Paris

The Paris Fire Brigade was created by Napoleon on 18 September 1811 after a devastating fire in Paris in 1810. The brigade remains the same firefighting service of Paris to this day.

Illustrations created by Aaron Martinet between 1807 and 1814. Top: Imperial Guard, Engineer Sapper. Bottom: Imperial Guard, Officer of Engineer Sappers. These were the military positions which were transitioned into the fire department.

The deadly fire at the Austrian embassy ball in July 1810, during the festivities for his marriage to Marie Louise, reminded the Emperor of the importance of a well-functioning fire service in the capital.

Despite the courage and dedication of the gardes pompes [firefighters of the old organization], who are sometimes falsely accused of numerous shortcomings, the firefighting service revealed its weaknesses: delays, insufficient and unreliable equipment, poorly trained personnel and incompetent managers. The staff present at the embassy on the day of the tragedy were cleared of all suspicion by an investigation led by the Count of Montalivet. On the other hand, the leaders of the old organization were dismissed, and the corps des gardes pompes was abolished.

After this catastrophe, the Emperor reorganized this public service by creating the first military corps of firefighters, made up of the engineers from the Imperial Guard who were dedicated to defending the imperial chateaux against fire.

At the behest of Emperor Napoleon I, the creation of the Paris fire department [bataillon de sapeurs pompiers de Paris] by imperial decree on 18 September 1811 was an original and innovative step, marking the transition from a civil and municipal organization to a military body. The choice of such an atypical status for a public service echoes the creation, eleven years earlier, of the Paris Police Prefecture, an equally singular legal administrative body.

From its creation, this military corps was placed under the authority of the Paris Police Prefecture, who was responsible for the security of the capital. After a long process, this military status and subordination to a prefect became the logical consequence of the spirit of the decree of 12 messidor year 8.

When the battalion was formed in 1811, the Paris fire department took on a new mission: fighting fires, the importance and development of which they were still unaware of.

Four companies were then created to respond to fires. Relying on a typically military functional triptych (extensive training of men, systematic technological research and implementation of efficient operational procedures), the battalion quickly made its new environment its own, and by the end of the second half of the 19th century, had become a model for the organization of public fire-fighting services and a national, even international reference.

Several fire chiefs succeeded one another until 1814. At that date, command was entrusted to battalion commander Plazanet. He provided the battalion with an instruction manual, made it compulsory for sappers to be stationed in barracks, and introduced gymnastics to train efficient and daring rescuers.

Source: Brigade de sapeurs-pompiers de Paris — Le Bataillon

Picture source: Napoleon's Army: 1807-1814 as Depicted in the Prints of Aaron Martinet, By Guy C. Dempsey, Jr., (Section: Support Troops)

67 notes · View notes

degenerate-perturbation · 1 year

Text

By imperial decree all citizens Must see the emperor's penis

#speech act

775 notes · View notes

marionette-j2x · 1 year

Text

"BRIDE OF THE MONSTER DUKE"

Summary:

"Lady Willow Park has spent her life in a rather lonely way after the deaths of her fathers, concealing her magical abilities and only having a single close friendship with the princess of the Isles. She was raised by her grandmother, who wanted nothing more than to see her granddaughter flourish and thrive. When an imperial decree is handed down, however, Willow is suddenly forced to marry Duke Hunter Wittebane, the Monster of the Knee, and live out the rest of her days in the freezing north.

It's there, however, that Willow truly begins to discover herself... and realize that her husband is nowhere near the monster rumor makes him out to be."

Tadah! Official poster for the fanfic! Been having this idea circling in my mind for a month and now I was finally able to make it after the whole "waiting for TOH S3 Ep 2 and avoiding leaks for a whole month and has me on chokehold for a while and am still". 🥹😤😀

If you wanna read the story, just click the link on the title! Fair warning though, that this fanfic is currently Rated-T 'cause of violence.

1K notes · View notes

aedesluminis · 17 days

Text

"The Fifth of May"

The Fifth of May is a poem written by the Italian poet and novelist Alessandro Manzoni in 1821, in honour of Napoléon's death.

It's one of the most famous poems as far as Italian literature is concerned: it usually gets studied and analyzed at least once during compulsory education! Since it doesn't seem that many people outside of Italy know of it, I will share below an English translation made by Lorna de Lucchi (source + original in Italian here)

" He is no more. As reft of breath The heedless body lay at last On whom such boundless hopes were cast, Immobile in the calm of death. So, by the tidings, in amaze The earth is held, and with her gaze The parting hour doth mutely scan Of this great spirit ; if again Upon the dust of her wide plain, All blood-besprinkled, ever can The footfall of a mortal show Like unto his, she doth not know.

My muse, seeing him most gloriously Ensconced upon a royal throne, Was still, nor in the clam'rous tone Of myriad voices joined as he Fell, then triumphantly did soar To fall again and rise no more : Free from all taint of servile praise And cowardly insult, let me rise, Now this bright star falls from the skies, As one who piteous homage pays ; A garland on his urn, let lie This song which haply will not die !

From Alp to hoary Pyramid, From Manzanare to the Rhine, From Scylla to the Don, sure sign His vivid lightnings were that did Foreshow the tempest that would be, His winged bolt from sea to sea.

Is his true fame ? Posterity The arduous verdict will declare ; We can but bow in reverence where The Eternal Craftsman mightily Conceived this soul that it might stand To show the marvels of His hand.

The tremulous, impassioned joy Of schemes conveyed with master-art, The strife of a subjected heart Which dreamed a sceptre for a toy, Nor was denied the godly prize Before a world's incredulous eyes ;

All these he knew ; untold renown More glorious for the peril passed, Flight, then the victory at last, The pains of exile doffed the crown ; Twice humbled to the very dust, Twice gifted with an empire's trust.

He spoke : and lo, two centuries, Ranged face to face upon the field, Submissive to his voice did yield, As if to destiny's decrees : He called for silence, and then grave Judgment between them both he gave.

He vanished : idly passed the days Imprisoned in a narrow round, By bitter envy and profound Compassion, by the constant gaze Of hate unconquerable pursued, With love indomitable endued.

A wave o'er shipwrecked mortal's head Closeth, then heavily down doth bear, The very wave that in despair He scanned before, straining ahead After some merciful trace of ground In a vain hope before he drowned :

Even so this soul was crushed below The burden that is memory ! How often to posterity On deathless page he sought to show Himself revealed, how often then From his tired fingers dropped the pen !

How often, drawing to the end Of a day spent in listless wise, Arms crossed on breast and downcast eyes Aflame, he stood while thought did tend Towards the past, in yearning vain For that which could not be again,

Calling to mind the mobile tents, The glint of passing infantry The flood-wave of the cavalry, The storming of the battlements, The sharply framed, imperious word, The swift consent of those who heard !

Maybe in such deep misery His spirit might have known despair, Had not a hand divine been there To raise him up in charity And carry him to mansions where Breathes a more consecrated air ;

To lead him by hope's flowery ways To everlasting pastures sweet, Where perfect happiness doth meet And soar above poor mortal praise, Where in hushed twilight doth abide The earthly glory that hath died.

Immortal Faith, O gentle maid, Full many a triumph hast thou seen ! Write this thing down in joy serene ; Never on Golgotha was laid Sublimer fame as low as this, Never proud spirit bowed like his.

O Faith, from his sad ashes move All words of bitterness away ! The God who doth create and slay, Who doth chastise then heal in love, Will surely come to him and keep Vigil beside his lonely sleep. "

#napoleon #napoleon bonaparte #napoleonic era #napoleonic wars #alessandro manzoni #i can't judge the quality of translations as far as poetry is concerned but it seemed fine to me

42 notes · View notes

veneritia · 8 months

Text

WHEN COMES THE DAWN | a wip reintroduction

↳ General Info

genre: new adult fantasy court intrigue pov: 3rd person dual pov stage: re-planning/drafting started: 9.3.2023 projected word count: ~90k Book 1 of 2

FENICE VI AETIER, a portent of ill omens and the estranged daughter of the Vasilier, ignites a dangerous succession game between her and her half-siblings, where losing means death and winning means an empire.

The end of the Hes-Aei war brings with it a chance to prove her worth to her father. The challenge is simple: bring him the head of the deposed king of Hesperia, and Fenice will be granted an Ascension, marking her as a legitimate contender for the throne. But finding the defeated king in his own lands would prove to be harder than Fenice imagined— especially when the remnants of her father’s last war starts rearing its head.

↳ The King's Game

A system decreed by the first emperor of Aetier that whoever among his children is the most skillful shall inherit his crown. But time has warped the rules of inheritance dramatically. The only way to survive is to win, and the only way to win is to be the last one standing.

↳ The Major Players

FENICE VI AETIER ◇ the contender | The worst-kept secret of the imperial family, and now an unknown factor in the politics of the Aetier court. The King's Game is her chance to stake her place in history. What she seeks is glory eternal, and she will do whatever it takes to get it.

NIKEPHOROS DEOMINOS ◇ the serpent | The prince of a conquered kingdom, now nothing more than a war prize. He muffles his anger with practiced smiles, playing the game of deception even as it tears him apart at the seams. He will lose either way, all that matters is deciding what he can bear losing.

CHARLES VI AETIER ◇ the favorite | The Vasilier's son with the world at the palm of his hand. The lonely prince with a gentle heart and a willingness to turn a blind eye to the cracks in his perfect family.

SOLA EIDOS ◇ the hound | A man of of unknown origin and a shadowed past, his real name buried beneath the soil of his homeland. He is an information broker, a spy, an assassin-- if you pay the right price. The one thing that can never be bought is his loyalty, a worthy master is hard to find.

SARTORE VITAE ◇ the enigma | An eccentric noble from Leohnthal who can charm his way to a seat at every table. Great with words and even better at half-truths, he is a man that sheds faces as easily as a snake sheds its skin.

Find more WCTD content with the series tag #series.wctd and keep an eye out for monthly progress updates with #wctd-monthly -- the first post coming soon!

Tagging: @sourrcandy @helioselene @seasteading @writinglyra @socialmediasocrates @serpentarii @asa-writes-stuff @cheshawrites @atelierwriting

#wtwcommunity #writeblrgarden #writeblr #wip intro #series.wctd #collection.my edits #collection.my projects

136 notes · View notes

muiitoloko · 5 days

Note

A few days ago I remembered some videos/posts that talked about how Judge Turpin and Minister Frollo (The Hunchback of Notre-Dame) looked alike, well, imagine if our dear Turpin had a partner with a strong personality like Esmeralda has, who doesn't obey the judge's orders and one of her biggest hobbies is to irritate him (whether by doing silly things like pasting drawings on his things or even something like leaving the house when he had said no) but despite everything they get along well and love each other in their own way

You don't have to write about it, only if you want to of course, I just had to ramble about it with someone

(Isso tá remoendo minha cabeça desde o final de semana juro pra ti 😭)

Title: The Witch and the Judge.

Summary: Despite everything, Judge Turpin loved his damned gypsy.

Pairing: Judge Turpin × Fem! Reader

Warnings: none

Author's Notes: Haha, can you imagine Judge Turpin dealing with a partner like that? It would be like trying to control a whirlwind with a mind of its own! 😄 But hey, who knows, maybe underneath all that irritation, they'd find a strange sort of harmony. Love can be weird like that!

Your life with Judge Richard Turpin is a complex dance of irritation and affection, a performance that seems to bewilder and entrap him in equal measure. Despite his stern demeanor and the cruel reputation that precedes him, his infatuation with you is a peculiar mix of fascination and frustration, which you wield with the deftness of a seasoned performer.

One crisp morning, you decide to step out into the bustling streets of London without his permission. Dressed in your colorful gypsy attire, you wander through the market square, the scent of fresh bread and spices filling the air. The whispers and stares of townsfolk follow you, a stark contrast to the grim respect they show Turpin. When you finally return, his expression is a storm of fury and relief.

"Where have you been?" he demands, his baritone voice echoing through the grand halls of the mansion. You merely smile, a knowing glint in your eye, and brush past him, leaving him to stew in his mixed emotions.

On another occasion, the mischievous glint in your eye turns towards his prized judicial robes. Waiting until he is preoccupied with one of his many cruel decrees, you sneak into his chambers and don the imposing black garb. The heavy fabric swirls around you as you stand before the mirror, mimicking his haughty stance and imperious glare.

When he finds you, he is momentarily struck silent by the absurdity of the sight. His stern mask cracks, revealing a flicker of amusement before the inevitable exasperation sets in. "You are impossible," he mutters, shaking his head. You laugh, a light and teasing sound that softens his scowl.

Perhaps the most audacious stunt you pull involves the elaborate wooden closet in his study. With a cunning and agility that both amazes and infuriates him, you manage to tie him up inside, gagging him with one of his own silk cravats. You then stride into his courtroom, his robes billowing around you, and take his place on the bench.

The courtroom murmurs in confusion, but none dare question the judge—your judge. You bang the gavel, summoning an authoritative tone. "Order in the court," you declare, relishing the power. The charade lasts only a few minutes before Beadle Bamford bursts in, eyes wide with shock and horror at the sight of you impersonating his master.

Beadle grabbed you firmly by the arm and led you out, his grip tight and his face a mask of concern. You allowed yourself to be guided, playing the part of the innocent and bewildered gypsy wife.

He whisked you into Judge Turpin's office, his steps quick and urgent. "Tell me where the Judge is, now!" Beadle demanded, his voice sharp with worry.

You tapped a finger against your cheek thoughtfully, pretending to ponder. "Oh, Judge Turpin? Hmm... I seem to recall now. I believe I left him somewhere."

Suddenly, a muffled buzzing noise filled the room, as if someone was screaming but gagged. Beadle's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. "What have you done this time?"

With a flourish, you pointed towards the large wooden closet in the corner of the study. "Why don't you take a look inside, Beadle?"

Beadle hesitated for a moment, then approached the closet cautiously. With a swift motion, he opened the door and Judge Turpin tumbled out, bound and gagged, falling into Beadle's arms. Turpin's eyes blazed with anger and humiliation, but his words were muffled by the silk cravat gagging him.

"You! You treacherous witch!" Turpin's voice was muffled but filled with venom. "I'll have you hanged for this!"

Beadle swiftly removed the gag from Turpin's mouth, allowing him to spew threats and curses. Turpin squirmed in Beadle's grasp, struggling to free himself. "Beadle, you fool! Release me at once! This is insubordination!"

Beadle obeyed with a reluctant nod, releasing Judge Turpin who stumbled to his feet, his face contorted with rage and embarrassment. As Beadle swiftly exited the study, leaving you alone with the seething judge, you turned to face him, the smirk on your face only serving to further incense him.

Turpin lunged towards you, his baritone voice thundering, "You damn gypsy witch! What foul magic have you used on me this time?" His hooked nose twitched with disdain as he grabbed you by the shoulders, his grip tight and unyielding.

You met his furious gaze with a playful glint in your eyes, pretending to be both innocent and provocative at the same time. "Oh, my dear Judge," you cooed, your voice sweet and mocking, "I just wanted to remind you how it feels to be at my mercy."

Turpin's anger only seemed to grow, but beneath it, there was a familiar gleam of desire. "You are an infuriating creature," he growled, his face inches from yours. "You toy with me like a cat with a mouse. Do you take pleasure in humiliating me?"

You chuckled softly, not breaking eye contact. "Maybe a little," you admitted, your hands reaching up to gently touch his face, tracing the lines of his furrowed brow. "But you love it, don't you, Richard? Admit it."

Turpin's expression softened slightly, his sharp features relaxing under your touch. His voice was quieter now, filled with a mix of frustration and longing. "You bewitch me, woman," he muttered, his breath warm against your skin. "I should have you arrested for this insolence."

You leaned in closer, your lips almost brushing against his ear. "But you won't," you whispered, your voice a low murmur filled with promise. "Because deep down, you want me just as much as I want you."

Turpin's grip on your shoulders loosened, his resolve weakening. "You are a dangerous temptation," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I should resist you."

"But you won't," you repeated, a playful smile spreading across your face. "Because I'm the only one who truly understands you, Richard. The only one who can challenge you."

Turpin's hands slid from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. His voice was low and urgent. "You infuriate me to no end, woman," he breathed, his lips finding yours in a possessive kiss.

You melted into his embrace, knowing that despite his harsh words, you held a power over him that no one else could match. As his hands roamed over your body, you whispered against his lips, "Just admit it, Richard. You love me."

Turpin pulled away slightly, his dark eyes boring into yours. "Damn you," he muttered, his voice thick with desire and frustration. "I love you, you wretched gypsy."

You smirked, tracing a finger along the edge of his jawline. "And I love you, my Judge," you replied, your voice filled with equal parts affection and mischief.

Turpin's lips curved into a reluctant smile, a rare sight, as he watched you waltz away in his judge's robes. His eyes followed your figure, a mixture of frustration and reluctant admiration evident in his expression. He shook his head slightly, knowing that your antics would continue to both infuriate and intrigue him.

As you reached the doorway, ready to disappear around the corner, Turpin acted swiftly, stepping forward to close the distance between you. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you firmly against his chest. His hooked nose buried in your hair, he inhaled deeply, the scent of your wildflowers and spice overwhelming his senses.

"Damn witch," Turpin murmured softly, his voice a mixture of exasperation and desire. "You've bewitched me from the moment I saw you."

You tilted your head back, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eyes. "Have I, Judge?" you teased, knowing full well the effect you had on him.

Turpin's grip tightened around you, his baritone voice low and urgent. "Yes, you have," he admitted gruffly. "And now, my dear, it's time for you to learn your place."

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "And what place is that, Judge?" Your voice was teasing, but there was an underlying challenge in your tone.

His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, "Today, I'll be teaching you how to be a proper wife."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a mix of anticipation and curiosity washing over you. Turpin's intentions were clear, yet you couldn't help but smile mischievously.

Before he could act further, you danced out of his embrace, slipping away from his hold. With a flick of your wrist, you threw off the judge's robes, letting them fall to the floor. You turned to face him, standing there in your gypsy attire, a smirk playing on your lips.

Turpin's eyes followed your every move, a mixture of frustration and desire evident in his gaze. As you began to walk away, he couldn't resist any longer. He lunged forward, capturing you in his arms once again. This time, he didn't let you slip away.

"I warned you, you vexing woman," he growled, his lips finding yours in a fierce kiss. His hands moved possessively over your body, pulling you closer against him.

You melted into his embrace, knowing that despite his stern exterior, he was captivated by you in ways he couldn't resist. His kisses were demanding, his touch possessive, but there was a rawness in his desire that matched your own.

When he finally released you, Turpin rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "You are a maddening creature," he admitted, his voice low and husky. "But you're mine."

You smiled, tracing a finger along his jawline. "And you're mine, Richard," you replied softly, your voice filled with a warmth that surprised even you.

Turpin's eyes softened as he looked at you, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "Come," he said finally, taking your hand in his. "Let's put an end to these games for now."

You followed him willingly, knowing that while your playful antics had brought you closer together, there was much more to discover about the complex dance that had entwined your lives.

#alan rickman #alan rickman x reader #judge turpin x reader #judge turpin #sweeney todd

49 notes · View notes