HERMIONE Son of Agamemnon, thy appearing is as a haven from the storm to sailors; by thy knees I pray, have pity on me in my distress, on me of whose fortunes thou art inquiring. About thy knees I twine my arms with all the force of sacred fillets. ORESTES Ha! what is this? Am I mistaken or do I really see before me the queen of this palace, the daughter of Menelaus? HERMIONE The same, that only child whom Helen, daughter of Tyndareus, bore my father in his halls; never doubt that. ORESTES O saviour Phoebus, grant us respite from our woe! But what is the matter?英文原著 · 《Andromache》
Could it turn out well? She had not got over that other boy--he knew. They were to go to Spain for the honeymoon. He would be even lonelier when she was gone. But later, perhaps, she would forget, and turn to him again! Winifred's voice broke on his reverie. Of all wonders-June!"
There, in a djibbah--what things she wore!--with her hair straying from under a fillet, Soames saw his cousin, and Fleur going forward to greet her. The two passed from their view out on to the stairway.英文原著 · 《Awakening & To Let》
A short silence followed, then Cecilia said suddenly: "Did you say that father was in the drawing-room? There's fillet of beef, Stephen!"
Stephen turned away. "Go and see Thyme!" he said. Outside Thyme's door Cecilia paused, and, hearing no sound, tapped gently. Her knock not being answered, she slipped in. On the bed of that white room, with her face pressed into the pillow, her little daughter lay. Cecilia stood aghast. Thyme's whole body was quivering with suppressed sobs.英文原著 · 《Fraternity》
Adieu ma Lyre, adieu fillettes, Jadis mes douces amourettes, Adieu, je sens venir ma fin, Nul passetemps de ma jeunesse Ne m'accompagne en la vieillesse, Que le feu, le lict et le vin.英文原著 · 《Letters to Dead Authors》
<33.5> i.e. the lady gathers the flowers, and binds them in her hair with a silken fillet, making of them a kind of chaplet or crown.英文原著 · 《Lucasta》
Receive, for this thy praise, our tears; Receive this offering of our hairs; Receive these crystal vials, fill'd With tears, distill'd From teeming eyes; to these we bring, Each maid, her silver filleting,英文原著 · 《Lyrical Poems》