A Book of Plays

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A. A. Knopf, 1913 - 255 pages
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Page 171 - My father's house. But that one stood alive, A man with bright brown hair and breathing lips. And then against my will my hand went out, As it does toward strangers here condemned to die, And touched his forehead with this fatal water — And with water of my tears, because I knew The dream was of Orestes and his end.
Page 65 - Be brave, your Majesty, as she was brave. A man on horseback told me what she said. She said: ' I was a Queen and you dethroned me. I was a wife and you have killed my husband. I was a mother and you tear my children Away from me. Only my blood is left. Make haste to shed it. And be satisfied.
Page 53 - By God! What is this game you're playing? ROBERT Citizen THE KING We're playing ball. ANTOINE Show me the ball. THE KING [Finding it in the pocket of his coat] It's here. ANTOINE [Knocking it out of the King's hand] Ball in a room that hasn't any light ! What were you changing clothes for? — tell me that! THE KING We changed our jackets. He didn't want...
Page 186 - My heart was homesick and was faint with hope That I should soon be back again in Argos. And now, O dead Orestes, you, as I, Forfeit your heritage and lose your home. And what does Artemis ask of me here? — 380 She who forbids approach by any man Whose hand is stained with bloodshed or with touch Of childbirth or of burial, finds him Unclean and bans him. She so delicate In all these ways will yet demand the blood Of human beings on Her altar-stone! It cannot be. How could Latona bear 385 To Zeus...
Page 185 - The Helen whom I hate, and Menelaus, That I might make of them the sacrifice, Let a new Aulis expiate the old, And vent my vengeance ! It was Helen's fault And his, that Greek hands lifted me at Aulis And led me like a beast where, at the altar, My father held the sacrificial knife.
Page 10 - ... That have turned coward toward a little boy, Son of the King they killed ! O Lord, reach down Thy hand to us ! For Jesus' sake, Thy Son, Give me Thy strength to save the Son of France ! JEANNE [Seizing the iron bar] Here's holy water for your crucifix. [She spits on it and throws it on the floor] BARELLE God pity you. — By noon I shall be back And I shall bring the boy. Does the King know? JEANNE Leave that to me. You fetch the other King. And, please, the puppy-dog has learned his change Of...
Page 68 - ... hands away. BARELLE. God's will be done. JEANNE [trying to pass Barelle]. God's nothing! It's the antic of a child! [Barelle holds Jeanne Marie back while the King helps Robert into the washerboy's coat.] THE KING. But O be sure, be sure you come again! The Simons will not dare to tell on you, For I should tell on them. Take all the clothes! [Picking up Jeanne Marie's bundle from the table.] Take these as well, Robert. And look inside And you will find a keepsake there from me. JEANNE. Not on...
Page 12 - JEANNE [ To the bag of gold] Sweet God ! [She kisses it, then hides it in her sewingbasket on the small table. Humming a snatch of the Marseillaise, she throws open the bedroom door and calls through it with her arms akimbo] Capet, your eyes are red. Go scrub your face. Make it all red like a washerlady's son. THE KING [A boy of nine, his voice heard outside] I am a Queen's son! JEANNE Times have changed, my dear, And Marie Antoinette has handkerchiefs To wash, she cries so much. Her nose now looks...
Page 63 - THE KING [Resisting Barelle's attempts to put the coat back on him] I will not go. You cannot make me go. Robert could never stand it as I can. A King can stand — O more than anyone ! JEANNE Here, hold him, Citizen. Bring him your cap, Robert. Come now, Capet, behave yourself! THE KING [Still resisting the coat, and throwing the cap down~\ And then, besides, I've thought of something else. You might save me and not my MotherQueen. She might be left here all alone upstairs. JEANNE She's not upstairs,...
Page 188 - ... shake the clinging sea With a great stroke and to accelerate With rush of rivalry the racing wind? 410 Was it to sweep the shores For riches and to vie in bearing home, Each to upbuild his house, The treasures and the trophies of the world? That glittering hope is immemorial And beckons many men 415 To their undoing. Ever insatiate They sail the sea and look to foreign towns To fill their ships with spoil. But some men never find prosperity, For all their voyaging, While others find it with no...

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