Chapter Revolutionary Songs to Rhiannon's Birds of R by Brewer's Readers Handbook

most civilly steering,
When they judged without skill, he was still hard of hearing;
When they talked of their Raphaels, Corregios [sic] and stuff,
He shifted his trumpet, and only took snuff.
   —Retaliation (1774).

N.B.—Sir Joshua Reynolds was hard of hearing, and used an ear-trumpet.

Rezio (Dr.) (See Pedro, Dr., p. 818.) —Cervantes: Don Quixote, II. iii. 10 (1615).

Rhadamanth, a justice of the peace in Somerville’s Hobbinolla, a burlesque poem in blank verse (1740).

Good Rhadamanth, to every wanton clown
Severe, indulgent to himself alone.

Rhadamanthus, son of Jupiter and Europa. He reigned in the Cycladês with such impartiality, that at death he was made one of the judges of the infernal regions.

And if departed souls must rise again,…
And bide the judgment of reward or pain;…
Then Rhadamanthus and stern Minos were
True types of justice while they lived here.
   —Lord Brooke: Monarchie, i. (1554–1628).

Rhampsinitos, king of Egypt, usually called Ramesês III., the richest of the Egyptian monarchs, who amassed 72 millions sterling, which he secured in a treasury of stone. By an artifice of the builder, he was robbed every night.—Herodotos, ii. 121.

A parallel tale is told of Hyrieus [Hy-ri-uce] of Hyria. His two archi tects, Trophonios and Agamedês (brothers), built his treasure-vaults, but left one stone removable at pleasure. After great loss of treasure, Hyrieus spread a net, in which Agamedês was caught. To prevent recognition, Trophonios cut off his brother’s head.—Pausanias: Itinerary of Greece, ix. 37,3.

A similar tale is told of the treasurevaults of Augeas king of Elis.

Rhasis or Mohammed Aboubekr ibn Zakaria el Razi, a noted Arabian physician. He wrote a treatise on small-pox and measles, with some 200 other treatises (850-923).

Well, error has no end;
And Rhasis is a sage.
   —R. Browning: Paracelsus, iii.

Rhea’s Child. Jupiter is so called by Pindar. He dethroned his father Saturn.

The child
Of Rhea drove him [Saturn] from the upper sky.
   —Akenside: Hymn to the Naiads (1767).

Rheims (The Jackdaw of). The cardinal-archbishop of Rheims made a grand feast, to which he invited all the joblillies of the neighbourhood. There were abbots and prelates, knights and squires, and all who delighted to honour the grand panjandrum of Rheims. The feast over, water was served, and his lordship’s grace, drawing off his turquoise ring, laid it beside his plate, dipped his fingers into the golden bowl, and wiped them on his napkin; but when he looked to put on his ring, it was nowhere to be found. It was evidently gone. The floor was searched, the plates and dishes lifted up, the mugs and chalices, every possible and impossible place was poked into, but without avail. The ring must have been stolen. His grace was furious, and, in dignified indignation, calling for bell, book, and candle, banned the thief, both body and soul, this life and for ever. It was a terrible curse, but none of the guests seemed the worse for it—except, indeed, the jackdaw. The poor bird was a pitiable object, his head lobbed down, his wings draggled on the floor, his feathers were all ruffled, and with a ghost of a caw he prayed the company to follow him; when lo! there was the ring, hidden in some sly corner by the jackdaw as a clever practical joke. His lordship’s grace smiled benignantly, and instantly removed the curse; when lo! as if by magic, the bird became fat and sleek again, perky and impudent, wagging his tail, winking his eye, and cocking his head on one side; then up he hopped to his old place on the cardinal’s chair. Never after this did he indulge in thievish tricks, but became so devout, so constant at feast and chapel, so wellbehaved at matins and vespers, that when he died he died in the odour of sanctity, and was canonized, his name being changed to that of Jim Crow,—Barham: Ingoldsby Legends (“Jackdaw of Rheims, 1837).