• <b>Bonhams, June 29:</b> LIFE OF OSLER, PRESENTATION COPY TO NEPHEW NORMAN GWYN. CUSHING, HARVEY. 1869-1939. <i>The Life of Sir William Osler.</i> Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1925. $1,500 to $2,500.
    <b>Bonhams, June 29:</b> OSLER TO HALSTED MENTIONING CUSHING AND WELCH. Autograph Letter Signed ("Wm Osler") to William Stewart Halsted on medical matters, 2 pp, January 19, 1919. $1,500 to $2,500.
    <b>Bonhams, June 29:</b> CUSHING PRESENTATION COPY TO LUCIEN PRICE. CUSHING, HARVEY. <i>Intracranial Tumours.</i> Springfield, 1932. $1,000 to $1,500.
    <b>Bonhams, June 29:</b> OSLER ON HIS CHILDHOOD. Autograph Letter Signed ("Wm Osler") to Mabel [Brewster] on returning home to Staplehurst. $800 to $1,200.
    <b>Bonhams, June 29:</b> SCULTETUS, JOHANNES. 1595-1645. <i>Cheiroplotheke, seu armamentarium chirurgicum XLIII.</i> Ulm: Balthasar Kühnen, 1655. $3,000 to $4,000.
    <b>Bonhams, June 29:</b> VICQ D'AZYR, FELIX. 1748-1794. <i>Traite d'anatomie et de physiologie.</i> Paris: Didot l'aine, 1786. $3,000 to $5,000.
    <b>Bonhams, June 29:</b> TAGAULT, JEAN. C.1499-1546. <i>De chirugica institutione libri quinque....</i> Lyon: Guillaume Rouillé, 1549. $400 to $600.
    <b>Bonhams, June 30:</b> EDWARD S. CURTIS (1868-1952). Autograph Logs and Journals from his 1927 Alaska Expedition. $7,000 to $ 9,000.
    <b>Bonhams, June 30:</b> EDWARD S. CURTIS (1868-1952). Cañon de Chelley, 1904. Oversized orotone, 17 x 22in in original Curtis Studio frame. $30,000 to $50,000.
    <b>Bonhams, June 30:</b> EDWARD S. CURTIS (1868-1952). 26 cyanotypes, featuring images of Cheyenne tribes from Volume VI of <i>North American Indian,</i> c.1907, made by Curtis in the field. $30,000 to $50,000.
    <b>Bonhams, June 30:</b> EDWARD S. CURTIS (1868-1952). The Vanishing Race, 1904. Oversized orotone, 18 x 24in in original Curtis Studio frame. $20,000 to $30,000.
  • <center><b>Cowan’s<br>American Historical Ephemera<br>& Photography<br>June 25, 2021</b>
    <b>Cowan’s, June 25:</b> [CIVIL WAR] -- [SHERIDAN, Philip Henry]. Personal headquarters flag of Philip Henry Sheridan used when he led the 2nd Michigan Cavalry. Spring - Summer 1862. $20,000 to $30,000.
    <b>Cowan’s, June 25:</b> [EARLY PHOTOGRAPHY]. Half plate daguerreotype of firefighter Walter Van Erven Dorens. [San Francisco]: n.p., [ca 1854-1856]. $15,000 to $25,000.
    <b>Cowan’s, June 25:</b> [LINCOLNIANA]. Abraham Lincoln banner possibly made for the 1864 presidential campaign. $10,000 to $15,000.
    <center><b>Cowan’s<br>American Historical Ephemera<br>& Photography<br>June 25, 2021</b>
    <b>Cowan’s, June 25:</b> [REVOLUTIONARY WAR - CONTINENTAL CONGRESS]. [HOLTEN, Dr. Samuel]. An archive of letters related to Danvers, Massachusetts, physician and statesman Dr. Samuel Holten. $10,000 to $15,000.
    <b>Cowan’s, June 25:</b> [UNION PACIFIC RAILROAD]. CARBUTT, John, photographer. Exceptional collection of 27 stereoviews from the series, "Excursion to the 100th Meridian, October 1866." Chicago, [1866]. $10,000 to $15,000.
    <b>Cowan’s, June 25:</b> [ALASKAN GOLD RUSH]. William Steele West and family, extensive archive of photographs, diaries, correspondence, and personal items. [Ca 19th - 20th century]. $8,000 to $12,000.
    <center><b>Cowan’s<br>American Historical Ephemera<br>& Photography<br>June 25, 2021</b>
    <b>Cowan’s, June 25:</b> [TAYLOR, Zachary]. Quarter plate daguerreotype featuring the 12th President of the United States. N.p.: n.p., [ca 1845]. $8,000 to $10,000.
    <b>Cowan’s, June 25:</b> [WASHINGTON, George]. Signed Society of the Cincinnati document. $5,000 to $7,000.
    <b>Cowan’s, June 25:</b> LINCOLN, Abraham. Autograph endorsement signed ("A. Lincoln"), as President. [Washington], 29 September 1862. 1 page, 4to, old creases. $5,000 to $7,000.
    <center><b>Cowan’s<br>American Historical Ephemera<br>& Photography<br>June 25, 2021</b>
    <b>Cowan’s, June 25:</b> JEFFERSON, Thomas. Autograph letter signed ("Th. Jefferson"), as United States President, to Robert Patterson. Washington DC, 2 July 1805. 1 page, 4to, evenly toned, small tear from seal. $4,000 to $6,000.
    <b>Cowan’s, June 25:</b> [EARLY PHOTOGRAPHY] -- [ALCOTT, Elizabeth Sewall]. Ninth plate ruby ambrotype attributed to Elizabeth Sewall Alcott. N.p., [ca 1856-1857]. $3,000 to $5,000.
    <b>Cowan’s, June 25:</b> [WESTERN AMERICANA]. RUSSELL, Andrew Joseph, photographer. <i>Salt Lake City, From the Top of the Tabernacle.</i> [1869]
  • <b><center>Sotheby’s<br>Livres et Manuscrits :<br>de Cervantès à Houellebecq<br>18 – 25 June</b>
    <b>Sotheby’s, 18 – 25 June:</b> Jouve, Paul -- François-Louis Schmied -- Rudyard Kipling. <i>Le Livre de la Jungle,</i> 1919.<br>€ 80,000 to € 120,000.
    <b>Sotheby’s, 18 – 25 June:</b> Cervantès Saavedra, Miguel de. <i>El ingenioso hidalgo Don Quixote de la Mancha.</i> Bruxelles, 1607.<br>€ 30,000 to € 50,000.
    <b>Sotheby’s, 18 – 25 June:</b> Buren, Daniel - Aimé Césaire. Cahier d'un retour au pays natal. Solstice, 2004. 1/140 ex. Avec 1/20 suites d'œuvres originales.<br>€ 4,000 to € 6,000.
    <b>Sotheby’s, 18 – 25 June:</b> [Musique] - Gioacchino Traversa. Six sonates à violon seul. [Vers 1770].<br>€ 3,000 to € 5,000.
  • <b>Swann Auction Galleries Jun 24:</b> C.F. Payne, <i>Micawber, Imitating Norman Rockwell’s “Triple self-portrait,”</i> mixed media, 2002. $800 to $1,200.
    <b>Swann Auction Galleries Jun 24:</b> Brian Froud, media illustration published in <i>The Land of Froud,</i> 1977. Estimate $6,000 to $9,000.
    <b>Swann Auction Galleries Jun 24:</b> Haddon Sundblom, <i>All a Girl Needs,</i> oil on canvas, published in <i>The Ladies’ Home Journal,</i> 1942. $8,000 to $10,000.
    <b>Swann Auction Galleries Jun 24:</b> Adrianne Lobel, <i>My One and Only,</i> 26 scenic concept collages for the Broadway musical, 1983. $6,000 to $9,000.
    <b>Swann Auction Galleries Jun 24:</b> Charles Schulz, original four-panel pen and ink <i>Peanuts</i> comic strip, 1971. $15,000 to $25,000.
    <b>Swann Auction Galleries Jun 24:</b>Jack Davis, mixed media cartoon for <i>Playboy,</i> 1959. $6,000 to $9,000.
    <b>Swann Auction Galleries Jun 24:</b> Charles Addams, mixed media cartoon for <i>The New Yorker,</i> 1937. $6,000 to $9,000.

Rare Book Monthly

Articles - March - 2015 Issue

The Pear of Anguish, or the evil genius of Mr. Paioli

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The Pear of Anguish.

The devilish “poire d’angoisse” (pear of anguish, or choke pear) is an iron instrument of torture invented by Palioly, a French villain of the 17th century, who sure had a big bag of tricks. One or two of those pears are displayed in some museums nowadays, but there’s a fishy smell about them. Let’s torture one or two books to make them sing.

 

The French poet François Villon was a villain; as such, he was sent at least twice to prison, and even sentenced to death once. At one point, he was incarcerated on orders of Jacques Thibault, the Bishop of Orléans, whom he ironically thanks in one of his poems: “Thank God, and Jacques Thibault / Who so much cold water had me drinking, (...) / Eating of anguish many pears (...)” The cold water is a reference to the prison diet; the pear of anguish, though the actual name of a variety of pears, is an expression. “That is to say,” reads the footnote of the 1742 edition of Villon’s works (Adrien Moetjens, La Haie), “who kept me in great despair, in sad affliction.” The Dictionnaire Historique of Alain Rey (Le Robert, 1998) traces the expression back to the 15th century, when it meant having great displeasure. Originating from Central Asia, pears have been praised since a very long time. Homer called them the gifts of Gods and Pliny already listed sixty varieties! In the Middle Age, French people mostly cooked them, at first; but as they became more refined, they soon ate them the way we do today. It was a custom to offer a pear to the Kings of France during their crowning, and Louis XIV ordered his gardeners to cultivate some in Versailles. As a matter of fact, pears are to be found in many French expressions such as “couper la poire en deux” (to split the difference), or “se fendre la poire” (to have a good laugh); the fruit flesh being quite soft, pears are also a negative symbol like in the expression “être une bonne poire” (to be a good egg) or “se payer la poire de quelqu’un” (to make fun at somebody)—not to mention the “pearish” caricature of Louis-Philippe of 1834 (see previous article).

 

The French author Ménage explains that the name “doesn’t come from a bitter taste, but from Angoisse, in Limousin; the village where it originates from.” In 2 500 Noms Connus (2014) Georges Lebouc giggles: “I don’t understand why Ménage invented this village, which is nowhere to be found on a map of Limousin.” Mr. Lebouc should have widened his researches; he would have found Angoisse, now included in the region next to Limousin, Dordogne. “Ever since the Middle Age,” reads Rey’s Dictionnaire..., “the village of Angoisse has been producing a highly rated variety of pears; it is cooked as a winter-pear, dried, or turned into Cidre, a lightly alcoholised drink.” At one point, though, the village changed its name; probably to be more attractive.

 

The aforementioned footnote featured in Villon’s works continues: “A partisan, or adventurer, in the time of Henri IV, turned this metaphorical expression into a devilish reality, inventing a diabolical machine that he stuck into his prisoners’ mouths, and which is described in d’Aubigné’s Histoire Universelle (Genève, 1626).” Let’s jump to d’Aubigné’s book. Year 1595, near Villefranche-sur-Meuse, as war raged on: “There was (...) one Captain Gaucher, a womanizer, not so steady in his enterprises. (...). Our gallant had too many prisoners who forced him to regularly go back to his place. Consequently, he invented a sort of lock in the shape of a pear. He called it the pear of anguish. He stuffed the mouths of his prisoners with it, opening out the branches that couldn’t be placed back but with a key. Thus he could order his prisoners to go to such or such place, warning them that they would die of hunger in case they would disobey. Not only were these poor prisoners forced to comply, but they also had to pray for the safe return of their master.” This is one of two known origins of the “pear of anguish”. The other one, much more frequently quoted, is a nice little book entitled Histoire Générale des Larrons (Rouen, 1639), written by François de Calvi.

 

The History of the Villains

 

L’Histoire Générale des Larrons, or The General History of the Villains, is quite an entertaining reading. The author describes some 73 murders, robberies or misdeeds committed between the reign of Henri IV and the early 17th century. The book was quite popular and the National Library of France lists 14 editions between 1629 and 1709; in fact, the book is divided into three parts, and the original edition consists of the first one, which came out in 1623—followed by the two others in 1625. It’s still a sought-after book and the first edition appears to be quite rare. One chapter is entitled Of Life and Strange Actions of Palioly, from Toulouse, of his evil deeds in Paris, and of the diabolical invention of the pear of anguish.

 

As an introduction, Mr. de Calvi gives a few words of warning about the education of children. Just like the trees, he writes, they grow wild when not properly tutored. Such was the young Palioly, who grew up in Toulouse (south of France). His father, who loved him too much, never spanked him in due time, and that led him straight to perdition. Chased from his birthplace over a few misdeeds, he sought refuge in Paris where “he soon mingled with the purse-robbers.” Palioly was a bright man, responsible for a striking trick that made the English comedian Benny Hill famous, the wax hands! Longing to hear a famous preacher, many people of quality swarmed the church of St Mederic one day. Our villain slipped into the crowd. “He had very well executed hands of wax, which he tied to his neck; he got them through the sleeves of his coat, and with the said hands held a book, pretending to read.” Thus absorbed in his pious reading, he came close to a Dame of quality who “didn’t imagine he had another pair of arms.” He didn’t let his wax hands know what his flesh ones were doing, and surreptitiously stole the Dame’s silver watch; he got away with it.

 

Benny Hill, the English comedian, was a more inconsistent man; he reproduced the trick, but only to touch the bottoms of beautiful girls at the bus stop; the man next to him got the blame, and the slap. Palioly’s friends were more down-to-earth people; but one of them eventually got caught red-handed (or should we say waxed-handed?). The trick being revealed, more inventiveness was now required. “They carved some wooden hands, and covered them with gloves and springs.” What they exactly did with the springs is not clearly stated here—did they make the wooden fingers move under the gloves? If so, then it probably inspired Palioly for his next invention, the pear of anguish.

 

The Tribulations of Mr. Eridas

 

“He met a locksmith, quite subtle and handy, from whom he ordered an instrument he called the pear of anguish, a diabolical one really, which made many ills in Paris and all over France; it had the shape of a small ball, which, thanks to some springs, could open and enlarge itself; and nothing could close it back but a key made for that purpose.” Mr. Calvi explains that the key was bringing the spring back to its original size, thus closing the pear. The first victim to experience this “loathsome invention” was a “fat bourgeois from the Place Royale, whom I’ll call Eridas.” Palioly entered Eridas’ home with two accomplices, pretending to be a merchant; but he soon made it clear that he had come for money. As he was about to shout “Thief!”, the three robbers assaulted Eridas, and stuffed his mouth with the metallic pear; “it opened at once, turning the poor Eridas into a statue, his mouth wide opened, able to shout or talk with his eyes only.” The more the victim tried to close his mouth, the more the pear painfully opened out. Once the robbers had left with their booty, Eridas ran to his neighbours; “they tried to file the pear, in vain; they tried to extract it, but the more they insisted the more it hurt its victim, as there were some points outside that injured his cheeks.” Our fat bourgeois spent the whole night in despair. Fortunately, “as cruelty doesn’t dwell forever in one’s mind”, one of the robbers sent him the key with a short note: “Sir, I didn’t mean to hurt you, or to cause your death; here is the key for you to open the instrument inside your mouth. I know it must have been painful; nevertheless, I am still yours truly.” Mr. de Calvi underlines that the pear was used several times afterwards, in various places.

 

Palioly soon made his name so formidable in Paris that he had to run away. “He went to war in Hungary and Germany,” says Mr. de Calvi, “where it is said he met his death.” That’s it—end of the story of the pear of anguish. The few books that ever mentioned it afterwards actually quote Calvi’s work. A few pears of anguish are to be seen in some museums today. But to tell the truth, they smell fishy.

 

The Horror Bid

 

Executioners die as well; so did Mr. Fernand Meyssonnier in 2008; he was one of the last French executioners, and he left a huge collection of instruments of torture behind him. When the famous auction sale house Cornette de St Cyr announced the sale of these items, it created a national controversy; the Minister of Culture himself publicly opposed the sale that was eventually cancelled. One of these lovable items was described as follows: “Poire d’angoisse. Iron made, ornaments on the sides. To be forced in orifices (vagina, rectum). Length when closed, 22 centimetres.” The Museum of the Renaissance, in Ecouen, near Paris, owns a “pear of anguish”—“but it’s not currently displayed,” confesses the curator joined on the phone. “To be honest, though it was once introduced as dating from the 16th century, we’ve come to the conclusion that it might in fact date from the 19th century.” So reads the caption of the photograph, “maybe fake.”

 

There’s another pear in the somewhat dubious Museum of Torture in Carcassonne (south of France); but no one could be reached there. I came across a very critical article about the pear, a few years ago; the author had access to a pear, and conducted a few experiments, finding it improper to any brutal use—too fragile. Unfortunately, I didn’t keep any record of this work that has apparently vanished from the Internet. I didn’t know him personally, but people like Palioly usually choose the simplest and quickest way to do their business. What’s the use of making such a complicated object when a mere piece of tissue is enough to silence a victim? Plus, such a complex iron object must have cost a little fortune; was it profitable to leave it with the victim? Furthermore, as long as some air is circulating inside your mouth, you can make some noise! According to the historical rumours, the Inquisition used these pears to “punish women who had had sex with the devil.” Of course, the instrument wasn’t forced in their mouths, on that occasion! The Inquisition was at least as inventive as Palioly, as far as causing pain was concerned; but people whose imagination was running wild have forged a lot of the instruments of torture from the Middle Age—could the “pear of anguish” be one of them? The San Gimignano Museum, in Italy, displays one—it was even featured on their promotional posters at one point. But they haven’t answered my questions yet. The Inquisition, purse-robbers, wannabe historians—it’s frightening to see how inventive people can be when it comes to inflicting pain or anguish upon their fellow men. To be honest, I prefer those who use their imagination to make us laugh—Thank God, and Benny Hill, as Villon would say.

(c) Thibault Ehrengardt


Posted On: 2015-03-02 06:41
User Name: sfjoseph

Sorry but the phrase "much cold water he had me drinking" is less a reference to the prison diet than to another excruciating form of torture. Large quantities of water were forced down the prisoner's throat until his stomach became painfully distended. It was quite a French speciality in the late medieval and early modern periods.
Steven Joseph, Brussels.


Posted On: 2015-03-02 17:53
User Name: EHRENGARDT

Dear Steven,
don't be sorry, every comment is welcome.
This one is quite relevant and you might be right. But for what I've come to understand, Villon was tortured while incarcerated a first time in Le Châtelet, in Paris; and the passage I quote in the article deals with his second incarceration, in Mehun (near Orléans), on orders of Jacques Thibault. We don't know what led him to prison in Paris but it was a serious case, as he was sentenced to death, and thus 'put to the question'; it was usually the case with criminals (to see if they had more to confess). That's when he wrote his masterpiece, "Fellow humans who are after us alive…" He appealed the sentence and was saved; hence his very joyful Epitaph about his appeal where he talks about a "drapel". The footnote of the quoted edition (1742) underlines that the torture of water (you force a man to drink five or six liters of water, the pain is almost unbearable) was "given in Paris with water, sent through a wet sheet to the stomach of the victim ; and that's what the poet means by the word "drapel" (sheet)" This is a straight reference to the torture.
The " had me much cold water drinking" might be too, to be honest. But as our poet was then in Mehun (near Orléans), where he wasn't tortured (for all I know), I chose the interpretation of the "prison diet'. Indeed, Villon also refers to his prison diet in another verse, talking about "the little loaf of bread and cold water" he was reduced to, while in jail (être mis au pain et à l'eau froide, a typical French expression). And according to Villon's lifestyle, the fact to be deprived of wine (mostly back in those days when it wasn't always safe to drink water) might have been a cruel "punishment" too. :)
Now, I'm no Villon specialist, and might be wrong; it might also have been more relevant to interpret it the way you did, since the article deals with torture.
Best
TE


Rare Book Monthly

  • <center><b>Aste Bolaffi<br>Rare Books and Autographs<br>June 22, 2021</b>
    <b>Aste Bolaffi, June 22:</b> Tolomeo, Claudio. <i>Cosmographia.</i> Ulma, Lienhart Holle, 16.07.1482.<br>€ 50.000+
    <b>Aste Bolaffi, June 22:</b> Hondius, Henricus, & Johannes Janssonius. <i>Atlas novus, sive descriptio geographica totius orbis terrarum.</i> Amsterdam, Hondius-Janssonius, 1638. €30.000+
    <b>Aste Bolaffi, June 22:</b> Castiglione, Baldassarre. <i>Il libro del cortegiano del conte Baldesar Castiglione.</i> Venice, eredi di Aldo, 1528. € 14.000+
    <center><b>Aste Bolaffi<br>Rare Books and Autographs<br>June 22, 2021</b>
    <b>Aste Bolaffi, June 22:</b> Bayer, Johann. <i>Uranometria, omnium asterismorum continens schemata, nova methodo delineata, aereis laminis expressa.</i> Augusta, Christoph Mang, 1603.<br>€ 12.000+
    <b>Aste Bolaffi, June 22:</b> [Astronomy]. <i>[Scriptores Astronomici veteres].</i> Venezia, Aldo Manuzio, 1499.<br> € 7.000+
    <b>Aste Bolaffi, June 22:</b> Aristophanes. <i>Aristofanous Komoidiai ennea. Aristophanis Comoediae novem.</i> Venice, Aldo Manuzio, 1498. € 7.000+
    <center><b>Aste Bolaffi<br>Rare Books and Autographs<br>June 22, 2021</b>
    <b>Aste Bolaffi, June 22:</b> Herodotus. <i>Hirodotou logoi ennea [...] Herodoti libri novem quibus musarum indita sunt nomina.</i> Venice, Aldo Manuzio, 1502. € 7.000+
    <b>Aste Bolaffi, June 22:</b> Tory, Geoffroy. <i>L’art & science de la vraye proportion des lettres attiques, ou antiques.</i> Paris, Vincent Gaultherot, 1549. € 5.000+
    <b>Aste Bolaffi, June 22:</b> Caterina da Siena. <i>Epistole devotissime de sancta Catharina da Siena.</i> Venice, Aldo Manuzio, 1500. € 4.500+
    <center><b>Aste Bolaffi<br>Rare Books and Autographs<br>June 22, 2021</b>
    <b>Aste Bolaffi, June 22:</b> [Chess]. Gianuzio della Manzia, Orazio. <i>Libro nel quale si tratta della maniera di giuocar' a scacchi con alcuni sottilissimi partiti.</i> Torino, Antonio Bianchi, 1597. € 3.000+
    <b>Aste Bolaffi, June 22:</b> Newton, Isaac. <i>Philosophiae naturalis principia mathematica.</i> Amsterdam, Compagnie di Amsterdam, 1714. €2.500+
    <b>Aste Bolaffi, June 22:</b> [Turkish Empire]. Ramberti, Benedetto. <i>Libri tre delle cose de Turchi.</i> Venice, eredi di Aldo, 1539. €1.500+
  • <b><center>Doyle<br>Fine Literature<br>Online Auction<br>June 8 to June 22</b>
    <b>Doyle, Fine Literature:</b> CALDWELL, ERSKINE. <i>Tobacco Road,</i> First Edition. $3,000 to $5,000.
    <b>Doyle, Fine Literature:</b> ELIOT, GEORGE. <i>Middlemarch: A Study of Provincial Life.</i> Edinburgh & London: William Blackwood and Sons, 1871-72. First edition in book form. $1,000 to $1,500.
    <b>Doyle, Fine Literature:</b> BYRON, GEORGE GORDON NOEL, LORD. <i>Don Juan.</i> London: the Thomas Davison; John Hunt; John and H.L. Hunt, 1819-24. First edition. $4,000 to $6,000.
    <b>Doyle, Fine Literature:</b> [BURNEY, FRANCES]. <i>Evelina, Or, A Young Lady's Entrance into the World.</i> London: T. Lowndes, 1778. First edition. $2,000 to $3,000.
    <b><center>Doyle<br>Fine Literature<br>Online Auction<br>June 8 to June 22</b>
    <b>Doyle, Fine Literature:</b> SHEPARD, ERNEST H. Colored drawing of Winnie-the-Pooh and Piglet, in an autograph letter signed by Shepard. Dated February 29th, 1932. $15,000 to $25,000.
    <b>Doyle, Fine Literature:</b> CARROLL, LEWIS (CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON). <i>The Nursery "Alice".</i> London: MacMillan, 1890. Second (first published) edition. $7,000 to $10,000.
    <b>Doyle, Fine Literature:</b> DANA, RICHARD HENRY, Jr. <i>Two Years Before the Mast.</i> New York, 1840. First edition with an autograph letter signed by Dana laid-in. $2,500 to $3,500.
    <b>Doyle, Fine Literature:</b> FINE BINDING-RIVIERE] HAZLITT, WILLIAM. <i>Liber Amoris: or, the New Pygmalion.</i> London: John Hunt, 1823. First edition. $3,000 to $5,000.

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