Richelieu: Or, The Conspiracy. A Play, in Five Acts

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S. French, 1860 - France - 96 pages

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Page 12 - I found France rent asunder ; The rich men despots, and the poor banditti ; Sloth in the mart, and schism within the temple ; brawls festering to rebellion, and weak laws Rotting away with rust in antique sheaths. I have recreated France ; and, from the ashes Of the old feudal and decrepit carcass, Civilization on her luminous wings Soars, phoenix-like, to Jove ! What was my art ? Genius, some say ; some, fortune ; witchcraft some.
Page 22 - The pen is mightier than the sword. Behold The arch-enchanter's wand ! itself a nothing ! But taking sorcery from the master-hand To paralyze the Caesars, and to strike The loud earth breathless ! Take away the sword ; States can be, saved without it ! (Looking on the clock.) 'Tis the hour ; Retire, sir.
Page 26 - Tis not his way. JOSEPH. This is the curse, my Lord, Of your high state ; — suspicion of all men. RICHELIEU {sadly). True ; — true; — my leeches bribed to poisoners ; — pages To strangle me in sleep. — My very King (This brain the unresting loom, from which was woven The purple of his greatness) leagued against me. Old — childless — friendless — broken — all forsake — All— all— but— JOSEPH.
Page 62 - Thro' gain and loss — thro' glory and disgrace — Along the plains, where passionate Discord rears Eternal Babel — still the holy stream Of human happiness glides on ! LOUIS. And must we Thank for that also — our prime Minister ? RICHELIEU.
Page 43 - Tho loathed by charity, might ask for justice ! Not with the fawning tone and crawling mien Of some I see around you — counts and princes Kneeling for favors ; but erect and loud, As men who ask man's rights! — My liege, my Louis, Do you refuse me justice — audience even — In the pale presence of the baffled murder?
Page 44 - Of that high throne, — spurn you the grey-hair'd man, Who gave you empire — and now sues for safety ? Louis. No: — when we see your Eminence in truth At the foot of the throne — we'll listen to you.
Page 43 - WE? — Ha, ha! you hear, My liege! What page, man, in the last court grammar Made you a plural? Count, you have seized the hireling: — Sire, shall I name the master?
Page 23 - Which death alone can steal, or ravish ; set Spurs to your steed — be breathless, till you stand Again before me. Stay, Sir ! You will find me Two short leagues hence— at Ruelle, in my castle. Young man, be blithe ! for — note me — from the hour I grasp that packet, think your guardian star Rains fortune on you ! Fran.
Page 12 - Adrien de Mauprat, men have called me cruel; — I am not; — I am just ! — I found France rent asunder, — The rich men despots, and the poor banditti; — Sloth in the mart, and schism within the temple; Brawls festering to rebellion; and weak laws Rotting away with rust...
Page 44 - Mark'd out for vengeance — exile or the scaffold. / You find me now amidst my trustiest friends, My closest kindred ; — you would tear them from me ; They murder you forsooth, since me they love ! Eno' of plots and treasons for one reign ! Home ! — Home ! and sleep away these phantoms ! Rich.

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