A Treasury of Plays for Women

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Frank Shay
Little, Brown,, 1922 - American drama - 443 pages
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Page 19 - THERE WAS A LITTLE GIRL There was a little girl, And she had a little curl Right in the middle of her forehead. When she was good She was very, very good, And when she was bad she was horrid.
Page 345 - In that day the Lord will take away the bravery of their tinkling ornaments about their feet, and their cauls, and their round tires like the moon, the chains, and the bracelets, and the mufflers, the bonnets, and the ornaments of the legs, and the headbands, and the tablets, and the earrings, the rings, and nose jewels, the changeable suits of apparel, and the mantles, and the wimples, and the crisping pins, the glasses, and the fine linen, and the hoods, and the veils.
Page 345 - Because the daughters of Zion are haughty, and walk with stretched forth necks and wanton eyes, walking and mincing as they go, and making a tinkling with their feet...
Page 203 - Seen through an oval frame, one of the walls of a parlor. The wallpaper is a conventionalized pattern. Only the shelf of the mantelpiece shows. At each end, seated on pedestals turned slightly away from one another, two aristocratic bisque figures, a boy in delicate cerise and a girl in cornflower blue. Their shadows join in a grotesque silhouette.
Page 211 - The life of an inanimate is as serenely enduring as all things are. SHE. Still things? HE. Recall our childhood in the English museum — ere we were moved, from place to place, to this dreadful Yankee salon. Do you remember that little old Greek tanagra of the girl with a head like a bud — that little old Roman medallion of the girl with a head like a — SHE. Manikin, Manikin — were they so beautiful as I? Did you love them, too? Why do you bring them back?
Page 206 - I'm in the right position I can note how she fondles you, pets you like a parrot with her finger tip, blows a pinch of dust from your eye with her softest breath, holds you off at arm's length and fixes you with her spider look, actually holds you against her cheek — her rose-tinted cheek — before she releases you! If she didn't turn us apart so often, I wouldn't charge her with insinuation; but now I know she loves you — she's as jealous as I am — and poor dead me in her live power!
Page 203 - In the center, an ancient clock whose tick acts as the metronome for the sound of their high voices. Presently, the mouths of the figures open and shut after the mode of ordinary conversation. SHE. Manikin! HE. Minikin?
Page 213 - ... hidden ones ? HE. I can see you. SHE. Even though you are still, and calm, and smooth, and lovely outside — you aren't still and calm and smooth and lovely inside ? HE. Lovely, yes — but not still and calm and smooth ! SHE. Which way are you looking ? What do you see ? HE. I look at you. I see you. SHE. And if that fool of a servant — oh, Manikin — suppose she should break the future — our great, happy centuries ahead — by dropping me, throwing me down ? HE. I should take an immediate...
Page 329 - tis a simple matter! I wonder now that even for a moment I held myself so dear ! When for her sake All things are little things ! — This foolish body, This body is not I ! There is no I, Saving the need I have to go to her! SCENE 4 A room at Lagoverde. Bianca lying in bed, ill to death. The children clinging to the bed, their nurse trying to draw them away.
Page 235 - How can you see ? There is not a crack in the door . . . TINTAGILES. Yes, yes, there is ; but it is so small ! . . . YGRAINE. On which side ? Is it here ? . . . tell me, tell me ... or is it over there ? TINTAGILES. It is here . . . Listen, listen ! . . . I am knocking. . . YGRAINE. Here? TINTAGILES. Higher up ... But it is so small ! . . . A needle could not go through ! . . . YGRAINE. Do not be afraid, I am here. . . TINTAGILES. Oh, I know, sister Ygraine ! . . . Pull ! pull ! You must pull ! She...

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