Male: Classical - Monologues

Clansmen of Cadmus, at the signal given By time and season must the ruler speak Who sets the course and steers the ship of State With hand upon the tiller, and with eye Watchful against the treachery of sleep. For if all go aright, thank Heaven, men say, But if adversely-which may God forefend!- One name on many lips, from street to street, Would bear the bruit and rumour of the time, Down witk Eteocles!-a clamorous curse, A dirge of ruin. May averting Zeus Make good his title here, in

Hermes, messenger to the dead, guardian of your father's powers, help rescue meâ€” work with me, I beg you, now I've come back, returned to this land from exile. On this grave, on this heaped-up earth, I call my father, imploring him to listen, to hear me . . . Here's a lock of hair, offering to Inachus, the stream where I was raised. Here's another, a token of my grief. I was not there, my father, to mourn your death. I couldn't stretch my hand out to you, when they carried off your corpse for burial. What's this I see? What's this crowd of women coming

High thanks, my children, unto Argos con, And to this folk, as to Olympian gods, Give offerings meet of sacrifice and wine; For saviours are they in good sooth to you. From me they heard, and bitter was their wrath, How those your kinsmen strove to work you wrong, And how of us were thwarted: then to me This company of spearmen did they grant, That honoured I might walk, nor unaware Die by some secret thrust and on this land Bring down the curse of death, that dieth not.

I pray the gods to quit me of my toils, To close the watch I keep, this livelong year; For as a watch-dog lying, not at rest, Propped on one arm, upon the palace-roof Of Atreus' race, too long, too well I know The starry conclave of the midnight sky, Too well, the splendours of the firmament, The lords of light, whose kingly aspect shows- What time they set or climb the sky in turn- The year's divisions, bringing frost or fire. And now, as ever, am I set to

O divine air Breezes on swift bird-wings, Ye river fountains, and of ocean-waves The multitudinous laughter Mother Earth! And thou all-seeing circle of the sun, Behold what I, a God, from Gods endure! Look down upon my shame, The cruel wrong that racks my frame, The grinding anguish that shall waste my strength, Till time's ten thousand years have measured out their length! He hath devised these chains, The new throned potentate who reigns, Chief of the chieftains of the Blest. Ah me! The woe which is and that which

Think not that I for pride and stubbornness Am silent: rather is my heart the prey Of gnawing thoughts, both for the past, and now Seeing myself by vengeance buffeted. For to these younger Gods their precedence Who severally determined if not I? No more of that: I should but weary you With things ye know; but listen to the tale Of human sufferings, and how at first Senseless as beasts I gave men sense, possessed them Of mind. I speak not in contempt of man; I do but tell

[Morosely] Devil take them all . . . take them all . . . They think I'm a doctor and can cure everything, and I know absolutely nothing, I've forgotten all I ever knew, I remember nothing, absolutely nothing. Devil take it. Last Wednesday I attended a woman in Zosip -- and she died, and it's my fault she died. Yes . . . I used to know a certain amount twenty-five years go, but I don't remember anything now. Nothing. Perhaps I'm not really a man, and am only pretending that I have arms and legs

Barbara's afraid we shall go and fall in love with each other. Day after day she never leaves us alone. With her narrow mind she cannot understand that we are above love. To avoid everything petty, everything illusory, everything that prevents one from being free and happy, that is the whole meaning and purpose of our life. Forward! We march on irresistibly towards that bright star which burns far, far before us! Forward! Don't tarry, comrades! All Russia is our garden. The earth is great and beautiful; it is full of wonderful places. [A pause] Think, Anya, your

Hm! . . . You talk of fame and happiness, of some brilliant interesting life; but for me all these pretty words, if I may say so, are just like marmalade, which I never eat. You are very young and very kind, but I don't know what is so delightful about my life. You have heard of obsessions, when a man is haunted day and night, say, by the idea of the moon or something? Well, I've got my moon. Day and night I am obsessed by the same persistent thought; I must write, I must write,

I have my own desk there in Ivan's room. When I'm simply too worn out to go on with my work, I drop everything and rush over here to forget myself in this pastime for an hour or two. Ivan Petrovitch and Sonya Alexandrovna rattle away at their counting frames, I feel warm and peaceful, the cricket chirps, and I sit near them at my table and paint. But I don't indulge in this luxury very often, only about once a month. [Pointing to a picture] Look! This is a survey map of our country as it

She is vexed at the idea of Nina ZarTtchnaya and not herself having a success even in this poor little theatre. She is a psychological curiosity, my mother. A clever and gifted woman, who can cry over a novel, will reel you off all Nekrßsof's poems by heart, and is the perfection of a sick nurse; but venture to praise Eleonora Duse before her! Oho! ho! You must praise nobody but her, write about her, shout about her, and go into ecstasies over her wonderful performance in La Dame aux CamTlias, or The Fumes of Life; but

The Professor as usual sits in his library from morning till night--

Yes, ten years have made another man of me. And why? Because I am overworked. Nurse, I am on my feet from morning until evening. I know no rest at all: at night I shake under my bedclothes for fear I'll be dragged out to visit some sick people. Ever since I've known you, I haven't had a single carefree day. How could I help growing old? Life is tedious, anyhow; it is a senseless, dirty business, and drags heavily. Every one in this neighborhood is silly, and after you live with them for two or three

I bought it. Wait a bit; don't hurry me; my head's in a whirl; I can't speak. . . . [Laughing] When we got to the sale, Derigßnof was there already. Leonfd AndrTyitch had only fifteen hundred pounds, and Derigßnof bid three thousand more than the mortgage right away. When I saw how things stood, I went for him and bid four thousand. He said four thousand five hundred. I said five thousand five hundred. He went up by five hundreds, you see, and I went up by thousands. . . . Well, it was soon over. I

I don't understand how to behave in the company of ladies. Madam, in the course of my life I have seen more women than you have sparrows. Three times have I fought duels for women, twelve I jilted and nine jilted me. There was a time when I played the fool, used honeyed language, bowed and scraped. I loved, suffered, sighed to the moon, melted in love's torments. I loved passionately, I loved to madness, loved in every key, chattered like a magpie on emancipation, sacrificed half my fortune in the tender passion, until now the devil knows

I suppose I am dreadfully guilty, but my thoughts are muddled, my soul is in the grip of a kind of apathy, and I am no longer able to understand myself. I don't understand myself or other people... I should like to tell you everything from the beginning, but it's a long story, and such a complicated one that if I talked till morning I couldn't finish it... Anna is a remarkable, an extraordinary woman... She changed her religion for my sake, left her father and mother, gave up wealth, and if

Oh, what has become of my past and where is it? I used to be young, happy, clever, I used to be able to think and frame clever ideas, the present and the future seemed to me full of hope. Why do we almost before we have begun to live, become dull, gray, uninteresting, lazy, apathetic, useless, unhappy? . . . This town has already been in existence for two hundred years and it has a hundred thousand inhabitants, not one of whom is in any way different from the others. There has never been, now or at

She loves me, she loves me not; she loves me, she loves me not; she loves me, she loves me not. You see? My mother doesn't love me. Of course not! She wants to live, to love, to wear bright dresses, and here I am, twenty-five years old, a constant reminder that she is no longer young. When I'm not there, she's only thirty-two, but when I am, she's forty-three - and for that, she hates me. Besides, she knows I don't accept the theatre. She loves the theatre, she

Yes. [Laughs] How strange everything really is! [Pause] When the fire broke out, I hurried off home; when I get there I see the house is whole, uninjured, and in no danger, but my two girls are standing by the door in just their underclothes, their mother isn't there, the crowd is excited, horses and dogs are running about, and the girl's faces are so agitated, terrified, beseeching, and I don't know what else. My heart hurt me, when I saw those faces. My God, I thought, what these girls will have to put up with if they live

You can burn peat in your stoves and build your barns of stone. Oh, I don't object, of course, to cutting wood when you have to, but why destroy the forests? The woods of Russia are trembling under the blows of the ax. Millions of trees have perished. The homes of the wild animals and the birds have been laid desolate; the rivers are shrinking, and many beautiful landscapes are gone forever. And why? Because men are too lazy and short-sighted to stoop and pick their fuel from the ground. Am I not right? Who but a senseless

Sir, you are of so strange a jealous Humour, And I so strangely jealous of your Honour, That 'twixt us both we may make work enough; But on my Soul I know no wrong you have. Sir, I'm in earnest, you have gain'd that Heart, For which I have receiv'd so many wounds; Venturing for Trophies where none durst appear, To gain at my Return one single smile, Or that she would submit to hear my story: And when sh' has said, 'twas bravely done, Pisaro, I thought the Glory recompens'd the Toil; And sacrific'd my Laurels at her feet, Like

I vow to Fortune, Ned, thou must come to London, and be a little manag'd: 'slife, Man, shouldst thou talk so aloud in good Company, thou wouldst be counted a strange Fellow. Pretty--and drest with Love--a find Figure, by Fortune: No, Ned, the painted Chariot gives a Lustre to every ordinary Face, and makes a Woman look like Quality; Ay, so like, by Fortune, that you shall not know one from t'other, till some scandalous, out-of-favour'd laid-aside Fellow of the Town, cry--Damn her for a Bitch--how scornfully the Whore regards me--She has forgot since Jack--such a one, and I,

You are my Lady, and the best of Mistresses--Therefore I would not grieve you, for I know you love this best--but most unhappy Man. [Pause.] My Master sent me yesterday to Mr. Crap, his Scrivener, to send to one Mr. Wasteall, to tell him his first Mortgage was out, which is two hundred pounds a Year--and who has since engaged five or six hundred more to my Master; but if this first be not redeem'd, he'll take the Forfeit on't, as he says a wise Man ought. Mr. Crap, being busy with a borrowing Lord, sent me to

Great gods! will these nights never end? will daylight never come? I heard the cock crow long ago and my slaves are snoring still! Ah! 'twas not so formerly. Curses on the War! has it not done me ills enough? Now I may not even chastise my own slaves--they never wake the whole long night, but, wrapped in five coverlets, fart away to their hearts content. Come! let me nestle in well and snore too, if it be possible . . . oh! misery, 'tis vain to think of sleep with all these expenses, this stable, these

At the outset I will prove to you that there exists no king whose might is greater than ours. Is there a pleasure, a blessing comparable with that of a juryman? Is there a being who lives more in the midst of delights, who is more feared, aged though he be? From the moment I leave my bed, men of power, the most illustrious in the city, await me at the bar of the tribunal; the moment I am seen from the greatest distance, they come forward to offer me a gentle hand--that has pilfered the public funds;

The story is worth hearing. Listen! From here I rushed straight to the Senate, right in the track of this man; he was already letting loose the storm, unchaining the lightning, crushing the Knights beneath huge mountains of calumnies heaped together and having all the air of truth; he called you conspirators and his lies caught root like weeds in every mind; dark were the looks on every side and brows were knitted. When I saw that the Senate listened to him favourably and was being tricked by his imposture

Mr. Herbot, I don't feel disposed to doubt your mood and, I take it, there is no question about mine. Don't let's go through a scene of high-sounding words. Mr. Herbot, we want, if possible--and to me it is possible--to talk like two men--no, let alone every vanity and every question of honor in the accepted sense, like two human beings. I ask you for the last time, Mr. Herbot, please to abandon the manner you have assumed thus far. I don't for a moment question the correctness of it. But please understand that a human being

Come in, and we'll talk. I heard you out there listening. It is late, but we must come to some decision. Sit down. [Pause] I have been at the post office tonight to get my letters. From these it appears that you have been keeping back my mail, both coming and going. The consequence of which is that the loss of time has as good as destroyed the result I expected from my work. In consequence of all this I have intercepted letters addressed to you. It appears from these letters that for some time past you

How silent everybody is! [Long silence] Here, for instance, in this respectable house, this attractive home, where beauty and erudition and wealth have joined hands. . . . [Long silence] All of us sitting here now--we know who we are, don't we? I don't need to tell. . . . And all of you know me, although you pretend ignorance. . . . In the next room is my daughter--mine, as you know perfectly well. She has lost the desire to live without knowing why. . . . The fact is that she has been pining away

My father died in a madhouse. . . . Like all of us, he was surrounded by a circle of acquaintances whom he called friends for the sake of convenience, and they were a lot of scoundrels, of course, as most people are. He had to have some society, however, as he couldn't sit all alone. As you know, no one tells people what he thinks of them under ordinary circumstances, and my father didn't do so either. He knew that they were false, and he knew the full extent of their perfidy, but, being a

Others have suffered to bring you happiness -- your mother; your father; your sweetheart; your sister -- sit down, and I'll tell you a story. -- It's very short. It happened about forty years ago. When a youth, I came to the Capitol -- alone, unknown and inexperienced -- to seek employment. I had only one riksdaler to my name. The night was dark, and as I knew of no cheap hotel, I questioned passers-by. None replied. When I was in the depths, a man stepped up to me and asked why I was weeping -- I

Well! It happened this way! I was a student at Lund and wanted a loan from the bank. I had no serious debts and my father had some money -- though not much. I had sent my note to the second man for his signature as my security, and, contrary to my expectations, it was returned with a refusal. -- I sat there for a moment, benumbed by the blow, for it was a disagreeable surprise, very disagreeable! -- The paper lay before me on the table and the letter lay near it. At first my eyes

You want to go to sleep, Jorghen, and I prefer to dream while still awake. To go to bed is to me like dying: to be swathed in linen sheets and stretched out in a long bed like a coffin. And then the corpse has the trouble of washing itself and reading its own burial service. I'm sure I'll cry like a child when my turn comes. If I only knew what death is! But how can we possibly know anything of that other life, when we know so little of this one? What is life

Do you know how people in high life look from the under world? No ... of course you don't. They look like hawks and eagles whose backs one seldom sees, for the soar up above. I lived in a hovel provided by the state, with seven brothers and sisters and a pig; out on a barren stretch where nothing grew, not even a tree, but from the window I could see the Count's park walls with apple trees rising above them. That was the garden of paradise; and there stood many angry angels with flaming swords protecting it;

I thought I heard the "little steps"--those little steps that came tripping down the corridor when she was looking for me. -- It was the child that was the best of all! To watch that fearless little creature, whom nothing could frighten, who never suspected that life might be deceptive, who had no secrets! I recall her first experience of the malice that is in human beings. She caught sight of a pretty child down in the park, and, though it was strange to her, she went up to it with open arms to kiss it--and the pretty

Look at these walls. Does it not look as if the wall-paper itself had been soiled by every conceivable sin? Look at these documents into which I write tales of wrong. Look at myself -- No smiling man ever comes here; nothing is to be seen here but angry glances, snarling lips,

To give a stronger testimony of love Than sickly promises (which commonly In princes find both birth and burial In one breath), we have drawn you, worthy sir, To make your fair endearments to our daughter,

If this be not revenge, when I have done And made it perfect, let Egyptian slaves, Parthians, and bare-foot Hebrews brand my face, And print my body full of injuries. Thou lost thyself, child Drusus, when thou thoughtst Thou couldst outskip my vengeance; or outstand The power I had to crush thee into air. Thy follies now shall taste what kind of man They have provoked, and this thy father's house Crack in the flame of my incensed rage, Whose fury shall admit no shame or mean.â€”â€” Adultery! it is the lightest ill I will commit A race of wicked acts Shall flow

We cannot but commend thy piety, Most loved Sejanus, in acknowledging Those bounties; which we, faintly, such rememberâ€”â€” But to thy suit. The rest of mortal men, In all their drifts and counsels, pursue profit; Princes alone are of a different sort, Directing their main actions still to fame: We therefore will take time to think and answer. For Livia she can best, herself, resolve If she will marry, after Drusus, or Continue in the family; besides, She hath a mother, and a grandam yet, Whose nearer counsels she may guide her by: But I will simply deal. That enmity Thou fear'st in Agrippina,

What excellent fools Religion makes of men! Believes Terentius, If these were dangers, as I shame to think them, The gods could change the certain course of fate! Or, if they could they would, now in a moment, For a beeve's fat, or less, be bribed to invert Those long decrees? Then think the gods, like flies, Are to be taken with the steam of flesh, Or blood, diffused about their altars: think Their power as cheap as I esteem it small.â€”â€” Of all the throng that fill th' Olympian hall, And, without pity, lade poor Atlas' back, I know not that

I'll tell you, sir, the monstrous hazards you shall run with a wife--for your friends are careful after your soul's health and would have you know the danger; but you may do your pleasure for all of them. If, after you are married, your wife do run away with a vaulter, or the Frenchman that walks upon ropes, or him that dances the jig, or a fencer for his skill at his weapon, why, it is not their fault; they have discharged their consciences, when you know what may happen. If she be fair, young, and vegetous,

When I was young, he lived not in the stews, Durst have conceived a scorn, and uttered it On a gray head; age was authority Against a buffoon; and a man had then A certain reverence paid unto his years, That had none due unto his life. So much The sanctity of some prevailed for others. But now, we all are fall'n: youth, from their fear; And age from that which bred it, good example. Nay, would ourselves were not the first, even parents, That did destroy the hopes in our own children; Or they not learned our vices in

Death of mine honour, with the city's fool! A juggling, tooth-drawing, prating mountebank! And at a public window! where, whilst he, With his strained action, and his dole of faces, To his drug-lecture draws your itching ears, A crew of old, unmarried, noted lechers Stood leering up like satyrs; and you smile Most graciously, and fan your favours forth, To give your hot spectators satisfaction! What, was your mountebank their call? their whistle? Or were y' enamoured on his copper rings? His saffron jewel with the toad-stone in't? Or his embroidered suit, with the cope-stitch, Made of a hearse-cloth? or his old tilt-feather? Or

Why droops my Celia? Thou hast, in place of a base husband, found A worthy lover; use thy fortune well, With secrecy and pleasure. See, behold

Paid subordinates! What! you are my paid subordinate, are you? Oh yes, I had forgotten the salary! Well then, on that mercenary ground, will you agree to let me hector a little? Most things free-born will submit to anything for a salary; therefore, keep to yourself, and don't venture on

[Discovered in his counting house, With heaps of gold before him.] So that of thus much that return was made; And of the third part of the Persian ships There was the venture summ'd and satisfied. As for those Samnites, and the men of Uz, That brought my Spanish oils and wines of Greece, Here have I purs'd their paltry silverlings. Fie, what a trouble 'tis to count this trash! Well fare the Arabians, who so richly pay The things they traffic for with wedge of gold, Whereof a man may easily in a day Tell that which may maintain him

“MY FATHER is deceas’d! Come, Gaveston, And share the kingdom with thy dearest friend,” Ah! words that make me surfeit with delight! What greater bliss can hap to Gaveston Than live and be the favourite of a king! Sweet prince, I come; these, these thy amorous lines Might have enforc’d me to have swum from France, And, like Leander, gasp’d upon the sand, So thou would’st smile, and take me in thine arms. The sight of London to my exil’d eyes Is as Elysium to a new-come soul; Not that I love the city, or the men, But that it harbours him

Ah, fair Zenocrate!--divine Zenocrate! Fair is too foul an epithet for thee,-- That in thy passion for thy country's love, And fear to see thy kingly father's harm, With hair dishevell'd wip'st thy watery cheeks; And, like to Flora in her morning's pride,

Ah, Faustus. Now hast thou but one bare hour to live, And then thou must be damn'd perpetually! Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven, That time may cease, and midnight never come; Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again, and make Perpetual day; or let this hour be but A year, a month, a week, a natural day, That Faustus may repent and save his soul! O lente, lente currite, noctis equi! The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike, The devil will come, and Faustus must be damn'd. O, I'll leap up to my God!--Who pulls me down?-- See, see,

Black is the beauty of the brightest day; The golden ball of heaven's eternal fire, That danc'd with glory on the silver waves, Now wants the fuel that inflam'd his beams;

I, Edward, will vse women honourablie, Would he were wasted marrow, bones and all, That from his loines no issue might succeed To hinder me from the golden time I looke for, For I am not yet lookt on in the world. First is there Edward, Clarence, and Henry And his sonne, and all thy lookt for issue Of their loines ere I can plant my selfe, A cold premeditation for my purpose, What other pleasure is there in the world beside? I will go clad my bodie in gaie ornaments, And lull my selfe within a ladies lap, And witch sweet

In thee, thou valiant man of Persia, I see the folly of thy emperor. Art thou but captain of a thousand horse, That, by characters graven in thy brows And by thy martial face and stout aspect, Deserv'st to have the leading of an

Leicester, if gentle words might comfort me, Thy speeches long ago had eas'd my sorrows, For kind and loving hast thou always been. The griefs of private men are soon allay'd; But not of kings. The forest deer, being struck, Runs to an herb that closeth up the wounds; But when the imperial lion's flesh is gor'd, He rends and tears it with his wrathful paw, [And], highly scorning that the lowly earth Should drink his blood, mounts up to the air: And so it fares with me, whose dauntless mind Th' ambitious Mortimer would seek to curb, And that unnatural queen, false

Now clear the triple region of the air, And let the Majesty of Heaven behold Their scourge and terror tread on emperors. Smile, stars that reign'd at my nativity,

Now, Guise, begin those deep-engender'd thoughts To burst abroad those never-dying flames Which cannot be extinguished but by blood. Oft have I levell'd, and at last have learn'd That peril is the chiefest way to happiness, And resolution honour's fairest aim.

She wolfe of France, but worse than Wolues of France: Whose tongue more poison'd than the Adders tooth How ill beseeming is it in thy sexe, To triumph like an Amazonian trull Vpon his woes, whom Fortune captiuates? But that thy face is visard

So that of thus much that return was made; And of the third part of the Persian ships There was the venture summ'd and satisfied. As for those Samnites, and the men of Uz, That brought my Spanish oils and wines of Greece, Here have I purs'd their paltry silverlings. Fie, what a trouble 'tis to count this trash! Well fare the Arabians, who so richly pay The things they traffic for with wedge of gold, Whereof a man may easily in a day Tell that which may maintain him all his life. The needy groom, that never finger'd groat, Would make

Thrice-worthy kings, of Natolia and the rest, I will requite your royal gratitudes With all the benefits my empire yields; And, were the sinews of th' imperial seat So knit and strengthen'd as when Bajazeth, My royal lord and father, fill'd the throne, Whose cursed fate hath so dismember'd it, Then should you see this thief of Scythia, This proud usurping king of Persia, Do us such honour and supremacy, Bearing the vengeance of our father's wrongs, As all the world should blot his dignities Out of the book of base-born infamies. And now I doubt not but your royal cares Have so provided for

Villain, art thou the son of Tamburlaine, And fear'st to die, or with a curtle-axe To hew thy flesh, and make a gaping wound? Has thou beheld a peal of ordnance strike A ring of pikes, mingled with shot and horse, Whose shatter'd limbs,

You have to go back, I tell you. There's no way out of it. You've got to start all over again. You'll be a baby - a bald, red-faced little animal, and then you'll go through it all again. There'll be millions of others like you - all with their mouths open, squalling for food. And then when you get a little older you'll begin to learn things - and you'll learn all the wrong things and learn them all in the wrong way. You'll eat the wrong food and

I began to dream, almost before I ceased to be sensible of my locality. I thought it was morning; and I had set out on my way home, with Joseph for a guide. The snow lay yards deep in our road; and, as we floundered on, my companion wearied me with constant reproaches that I had not brought a pilgrim's staff: telling me that I could never get into the house without one, and boastfully flourishing a heavy-headed cudgel, which I understood to be so denominated. For a moment I

It began oddly. You know I was wild after she died; and eternally, from dawn to dawn, praying her to return to me her spirit! I have a strong faith in ghosts: I have a conviction that they can, and do, exist among us! The day she was buried, there came a fall of snow. In

She abandoned them under a delusion, picturing in me a hero of romance, and expecting unlimited indulgences from my chivalrous devotion. I can hardly regard her in the light of a rational creature, so obstinately has she persisted in forming a fabulous notion of my character and acting on the

Men aren't so bad-looking, you know. And I'm not a particularly handsome specimen! Believe me, Daisy! (He turns around). Daisy! Daisy! Where are you Daisy?...

For Christ's sake, Papa, forget it!....Yes, she moves above and beyond us, a ghost haunting the past, and here we sit pretending to forget....

It ain't no use, Drisc. I ain't got a chance, but I ain't scared. I was just thinkin' it ain't as bad as people thinkdyin'. I ain't never took much stock in the truck them sky-pilots preach. I ain't never had religion; but I know whatever it is what comes after it can't

That last night I had driven myself crazy trying to figure someway out for her. I went in the bedroom. I was gonna tell her it was the end. But I couldn't do that to her. She was sound asleep. I thought, if she'd never wake up, she'd never know....."

Why omit me from your Who's Who in Dipsomania, Larry? An unpardonable slight, especially as I am the only inmate of royal blood. (to Parritt - rambling) Educated at Harvard, too..."

You remember when the crash came? We were all in the salon. You were singinga Cockney song I think? You were very beautiful. I remember a woman on my right saying: “How pretty she is! I wonder if she is married?” Strange how some idiotic remark like that will stick

My friends, I deem the fortune of my wife Happier than mine, though otherwise it seems; For never more shall sorrow touch her breast, And she with glory rests from various ills. But I, who ought not live, my destined hour O'erpassing, shall drag on a mournful life, Late taught what sorrow is. How shall I bear To enter here? To whom shall I address My speech? Whose greeting renders my return Delightful? Which way shall I turn? Within In lonely sorrow shall I waste away, As widowed of my wife I see my couch, The seats deserted where she

'Tis easy to be eloquent, for him That's skilled in speech, and hath a stirring theme. Thou hast the flowing tongue as of a wise man, But there's no wisdom in thy fluent words; For the bold demagogue, powerful in speech, Is but a dangerous citizen lacking sense. This the new deity thou laugh'st to scorn, I may not say how mighty he will be Throughout all Hellas. Youth! there are two things Man's primal need, Demeter, the boon Goddess (Or rather will ye call her Mother Earth?), With solid food maintains the race of man. He, on the other

Soon as we came into this craggy place, Kindling a fire, he cast on the broad hearth The knotty limbs of an enormous oak, Three wagon-loads at least, and then he strewed Upon the ground, beside the red firelight, His couch of pine leaves; and he milked the cows, And pouring forth the white milk, filled a bowl Three cubits wide and four in depth, as much As would contain ten amphorµ, and bound it With ivy wreaths; then placed upon the fire A brazen pot to boil, and made red hot The points of spits, not sharpened with the

By a fair semblance to deceive the world, Wherefore, O Jove, beneath the solar beams That evil, woman, didst thou cause to dwell? For if it was thy will the human race Should multiply, this ought not by such means To be effected: better

Far other things appear when nigh, than seen At distance. I indeed embrace my fortune, In thee my father found. But hear what now Wakes sad reflections. Proud of their high race Are your Athenians, natives of the land, Not drawn from foreign lineage: I to them Shall come unwelcome, in two points defective, My father not a native, and myself Of spurious birth: loaded with this reproach, If destitute of power, I shall be held Abject and worthless: should I rush among The highest order of the state, and

Great Zeus, why didst thou, to man's sorrow, put woman, evil counterfeit, to dwell where shines the sun? If thou wert minded that the human race should multiply, it was not from women they should have drawn their stock, but in thy temples they should have paid gold or iron or ponderous bronze and bought a family, each man proportioned to his offering, and so in independence dwelt, from women free. But now as soon as ever we would bring this plague into our home we bring its fortune to

I ought not to be rash, it seems, in speech, But like the skilful pilot, who, with sails Scarce half unfurled, his bark more surely guides, Escape, O woman, your ungoverned tongue. Since you the benefits on me conferred Exaggerate in so proud a strain, I deem That I to Venus only, and no god Or man beside, my prosperous voyage owe. Although a wondrous subtlety of soul To you belong, 'twere an invidious speech For me to make should I relate how Love By his inevitable shafts constrained you To save my life. I will not therefore state This argument too nicely,

In reverence to thy age I dread to speak What I well know must pierce thy heart with grief. I am unholy in my mother's death, But holy, as my father I avenged. The veneration due to those grey hairs Strikes me with awe: else I could urge my plea Freely and boldly; but thy years dismay me. What could I do? Let fact be weighed with fact. My father was the author of my being; Thy daughter brought me forth: he gave me life, Which she but fostered: to the higher cause A higher reverence then I deemed was due. Thy

Lady, we by thy husband are betrayed, For I with thee am grieved, with contrived fraud Insulted, from thy father's house cast forth. I speak not this in hatred to thy lord, But that I love thee more: a stranger he Came to the city and thy royal house, And wedded thee, all thy inheritance Receiving, by some other woman now Discover'd to have children privately: How privately I'll tell thee: when he saw Thou hadst no child, it pleased him not to bear A fate like thine; but by

Lo! I am come to this land of Thebes, Dionysus' the son of Zeus, of whom on a day Semele, the daughter of Cadmus, was delivered by a flash of lightning. I have put off the god and taken human shape, and so present myself at Dirce's springs and the waters of Ismenus. Yonder I see my mother's monument where the bolt slew her nigh her house, and there are the ruins of her home smouldering with the heavenly flame that blazeth still-Hera's deathless outrage on my mother. To Cadmus

My honoured mistress (for with you I grieve), We are betrayed by your perfidious lord, Wronged by premeditated fraud, and cast Forth from Erectheus' house: I speak not this Through hatred to your husband, but because I love you more than him, who wedding you When to the city he a stranger came, Your palace too and whole inheritance With you receiving, on some other dame Appears to have begotten sons by stealth: How 'twas by stealth I'll prove; when he perceived That you were barren, he was not content To share the self-same fate, but on a slave, Whom he embraced in

O friends, whatsoever may be thought by others, to me it seems that my wife's fate is happier than mine. Now, no pain ever shall touch her again; she has reached the noble end of all her sufferings. But I, I who should have died, I have escaped my fate, only to drag out a wretched life. Only now do I perceive it. How shall I summon strength to enter this house? Whom shall I greet? Who will greet me in joy at my coming? Whither shall I turn my

O my babes, my babes, ye have still a city and a home, where far from me and my sad lot you will live your lives, reft of your mother for ever; while I must to another land in banishment, or ever I have had my joy of you, or lived to see you happy, or ever I have graced your marriage couch, your bride, your bridal bower, or lifted high the wedding torch. Ah me! a victim of my own self-will. So it was all in vain I reared

Things at a distance wear not the same semblance As when on them we fix a closer view. I certainly with gratitude embrace My better fortunes, having found in you A father. But whence rose my anxious thoughts Now hear: in Athens, I am

When we had entered yonder rocky abode, he lighted first a fire, throwing logs of towering oak upon his spacious hearth, enough for three wagons to carry as their load; next, close by the blazing flame, he placed his couch of pine-boughs laid upon the floor, and filled a bowl of some ten firkins, pouring white milk thereinto, after he had milked his kine; and by his side he put a can of ivy-wood, whose breadth was three cubits and its depth four maybe; next he set his brazen pot

Why was this privilege, alas! denied To mortals, twice to flourish in the bloom Of youth, and for a second time grow old? For in our houses, we, if aught is found To have been ill contrived, amend the fault Which our maturer judgment hath descried; While each important error in our life Admits of no reform: but if with youth And ripe old age we twice had been indulged, Each devious step that marked our first career We in our second might set right. For children, Seeing that others had them, much I wished, And pined away with vehement desire; But if

The sooner the better. I don't belong here. Let them kick each other to bits. I'll shut the door behind me and walk away into freedom. Why should I let them push me about?...."

Listen, when I set off to come here, I mean here in the large sense, to this town, ten days ago, I made up my mind, of course, to assume a character. It would have been best to have done without anything, to have kept one's own character, wouldn't it? There is no better dodge than one's

Well, so be it, I am a pig, but she is a lady! I have the semblance of a beast, but Katerina Ivanovna, my spouse is a person of education and an officers daughter. Granted, granted, I am a scoundrel, but she is a woman of a noble heart, full of sentiments, refined by education.

Why have you come to me, tell me that, please? Why have you come? Answer, answer! I'll tell you, my good girl, why you have come. You've come because I talked sentimental stuff to you then. So now you are soft as butter and longing for fine sentiments again. So you may as well

I am dying...of love...That is how it is.... I loved her so!...And I love her still...daroga...and I am dying of love for her, I...I tell you!...If you knew how beautiful she was... when she let me kiss her...alive...It was the first...time, daroga, the first...time I ever kissed a woman.... Yes,

If one man in all the world can be found, now or forever, to know that you did wrong, that man will have either to conquer the world as I have, or be crucified by it. [The uproar in the streets again reaches them.] Do you hear? These knockers at your gate are also believers in vengeance and in stabbing. You have slain their leader: it is right that they shall slay you. If you doubt it, ask your four counsellors here. And then in the name of that right [he emphasizes the word with great

It ain't the lecturing I mind. I'll lecture them blue in the face, I will, and not turn a hair. It's making a gentleman of me that I object to. Who asked him to make a gentleman of me? I was happy. I was free. I touched pretty nigh everybody for money when I wanted it, same as I touched you, Enry Iggins. Now I am worried; tied neck and heels; and everybody touches me for money. It's a fine thing for you, says my solicitor. Is it? says I. You mean it's a good thing

No, maam; marriage didn't come natural. My wife had to break me into it. It came natural to her: she's what you might call a regular old hen. Always wants to have her family within sight of her. Wouldn't go to bed unless she knew they was all safe at home and the door locked, and the lights out. Always wants her luggage in the carriage with her. Always goes and makes the engine driver promise her to be careful. She's a born wife and mother, maam. That's why my children all ran away from home. I

You, Tavy, are an artist: that is, you have a purpose as absorbing and as unscrupulous as a woman's purpose.... The true artist will let his wife starve, his children go barefoot, his mother drudge for his living at seventy, sooner than work at anything but his art. To women he is half vivisector, half vampire. He gets into intimate relations with them to study them, to strip the mask of convention from them, to surprise their inmost secrets, knowing that they have the power to rouse his deepest creative energies, to rescue him from his cold

Don't say that, Governor. Don't look at it that way. What am I, Governors both? I ask you, what am I? I'm one of the undeserving poor: that's what I am. Think of what that means to a man. It means that he's up agen middle class morality all the time. If there's anything going, and I put in for a bit of it, it's always the same story: 'You're undeserving; so you can't have it.' But my needs is as great as the most deserving widow's that ever got

My father was a boilermaster. We lived hard by the factory and our windows gave on the factory yard. I saw a good many things there. There was a workingman, for instance, who had worked in the factory for five years. He began to have a violent cough and to lose flesh . . . I recall how my father told us about the man at table. His name was Burmeister and he was threatened with pulmonary consumption if he worked much longer in the soap factory. The doctor had told him so. But the man had

It's horrible enough, but I shall tell you the whole story. First, though, you must get me some food, and light the fire. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I'm cold. Yes, yes, I shall tell you the whole story. But you must promise not to tell a soul. You will make a bargain with me, Dr.

This isn't a war. It never was a war, any more than there's war between man and ants. There's the ants builds their cities, live their lives, have wars, revolutions, until the men want them out of the way, and then they go out of the way. That's what we are now--just ants.

I didn't get you here to argue with you. I sent for you to tell you that the Indian Girl must be ready to sail the day after tomorrow. The day after tomorrow, do you hear? At the same time as our own ship; not an hour later. I have my reasons for hurrying the affair. Have you read this morning's paper? Ah!--then you know that the Americans have been making disturbances again. The ruffianly crew turn the whole town topsy-turvy. Not a night passes without fights in the taverns or on the street; not to speak

I find I can talk to you as I can to no one else; I shall conceal nothing from you. I had my share in spreading the rumour. You must not condemn me without remembering how matters stood at the time. As I told you yesterday, I came home to find my mother involved in a whole series of foolish undertakings. Disasters of various kinds followed; all possible ill-luck seemed to crowd upon us; our house was on the verge of ruin. I was half reckless and half in despair. Lona, I believe it was principally to

[Speaking beside a grave.] Now, when the soul has gone to meet its doom, And here the dust lies, like an empty pod,-- Now, my dear friends, we'll speak a word or two About this dead man's pilgrimage on earth. He was not wealthy,

Come and live with us--in the villa. You can set your swans swimming in the brook ... we can talk of old times ... you can open all that is locked up in me--as you did in our days of creation. I beg of you, Irene--give me this one chance to live my life over again. Help me undo

Now, when the soul has gone to meet its doom, And here the dust lies, like an empty pod,-- Now, my dear friends, we'll speak a word or two About this dead man's pilgrimage on earth. He was not wealthy, neither was he wise, His voice was weak, his bearing was unmanly, He spoke his mind abashed and faltering, He scarce was master at his own fireside; He sidled into church, as though appealing For leave, like other men, to take his place. It was from Gudbrandsdale, you know, he came. When here he settled he was but a lad;-- And you

When I first found you ... I knew at once I would make use of you for my life's work. You were what I required in every respect. I was young then--with no knowledge of the world--and I thought that The Resurrection would be most beautifully rendered as an innocent young

You won't misunderstand me, dear. I'm old enough to be your grandfather. [Very seriously.] Take care how you choose your partner for life. You'll have a wide choice, and all your future happiness, and the happiness of many generations to come, will depend on the one moment when you say "Yes" to one of the scores of young fellows who'll ask you to be his wife. Take care! Look him thoroughly up and down! Be sure that he has a good full open eye that can look you straight in the face; and be sure that the whites

Such a queer dream, King-Post, I never had. You know the old man's ivory leg, well I dreamed he kicked me with it; and when I tried to kick back, upon my soul, my little man, I kicked my leg right off! And then, presto! Ahab seemed a pyramid, and I, like a blazing fool, kept kicking at it. But what was still more curious, Flask--you know how curious all dreams are--through all this rage that I was in, I somehow seemed to be thinking to myself, that after

After leaving the house with Marheyo, we struck across the valley, and ascended the opposite heights. Just beyond them, my guide informed me, lay the valley of Happar, while along their summits, and skirting the head of the vale, was my route to Nukuheva. After mounting a little way up the elevation my guide paused, and gave me to understand that he could not accompany me any farther, and by various signs intimated that he was afraid to approach any nearer the territories of the enemies of his tribe. He

And what dost thou want of Captain Ahab? It's all right enough; thou art shipped.....I don't think thou wilt be able to see him at present. I don't know exactly what's the matter with him; but he keeps close inside the house; a sort of sick, and yet he don't look so. In fact, he ain't sick; but no, he isn't well either. Any how, young man, he won't always see me, so I don't suppose he will thee. He's a queer man, Captain Ahab--so some think--but a good one.

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago--never mind how long precisely--having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of

I was never served so before without giving a hard blow for it. It's very queer. Stop, Stubb; somehow, now, I don't well know whether to go back and strike him, or--what's that?--down here on my knees and pray for him? Yes, that was the thought coming up in me; but it would be the first time I ever DID pray. It's queer; very queer; and he's queer too; aye, take him fore and aft, he's about the queerest old man Stubb ever sailed with. How he flashed at me!--his

Now, men, as we are just off a six months' cruise, and have got through most all our work in port here, I suppose you want to go ashore. Well, I mean to give your watch liberty today, so you may get ready as soon all you please, and go; but understand this, I am going to give you liberty because I suppose you would growl like so many old quarter gunners if I didn't; at the same time, if you'll take my advice, every mother's son of you will

Brilliance; I'll tell you what that was, at least for me. I wrote several things that people called "brilliant." One in particular, a little play of decadent epigram. It was acted by amateurs before an admiring "select" audience. That was when I was twenty-one. From about sixteen on I had

We never learn to know each other fully. I am not a poet, but I understand Isabel's heart better than you do. There was a time when I felt my Carmen's love grow cold, as Isabel does yours. Her spirit was dreamy, ambitious, while our life was prosaic indeed. I am a man so blind to idealities that it seems to me a crime not only to dream, but to sleep, unless the provision for the morrow is assured. My one thought was to work--for the sake of my wife and my children, naturally; but work, which

You ought to have killed me. That was the first time in my life that I was ever afraid. I never expected they would let Norbert go. I told you that we ought to go into court and have Acacia testify that Norbert had sworn he was going to kill Faustino, but you wouldn't listen. We could have got others, too, to say the same. Then it would have been easy; they never would have let him go. I know I made a fool of myself, but when I saw that Norbert was free, that the

I love her, and may own my passion Now that that brother is my only rival. Doubtless you wonder at the words I speak, But 'tis no secret of a few short days, Long has this love of mine grown up in silence. How I could make you realize its ardour, My earliest sighs, my latest disappointment! But in the state to which we are reduced 'Tis no fit time to task my memory With the recital of an amorous tale. Let it suffice, to justify myself, That it was I who first beheld the Queen, And loved her. Ere the name

It well becomes a traitress to talk thus, Who, nursing in her heart illicit loves, When I was raising her to glory's height, The blackest treason had prepared for me!

Would'st thou have me learn Now at my age the worthless lore of love? And shall a heart that years of toil have harden'd Blindly submit to follow vain delights? Nay, she attracts my gaze with other charms, I love in her the blood of royal sires. Through this alliance to the throne and brought near By Bajazet, I thus secure a shield To guard myself against him. Some offence Is sure to rise, for scarcely has vizier Been chosen ere the Sultan fears his creature, And greed or envy soon effects his ruin. To-day he honours me and courts my favour, The

Poor son of Earth, how couldst thou thus alone Have led thy life, bereft of me? I, for a time, at least, have worked thy cure; Thy fancy's rickets plague thee not at all: Had I not been, so hadst thou, sure, Walked thyself off this earthly ball. Why here to caverns, rocky hollows slinking, Sit'st thou, as 'twere an owl a-blinking? Why suck'st, from sodden moss and dripping stone, Toad-like, thy nourishment alone? A fine way, this, thy time to fill! A blessing drawn from supernatural fountains! In night and dew to lie upon the mountains; All Heaven and Earth in rapture

In misery! In despair! Long wretchedly astray on the face of the earth, and now imprisoned! That gracious, ill-starred creature shut in a dungeon as a criminal, and given up to fearful torments! To this has it come! to this!--Treacherous, contemptible spirit, and thou hast concealed it from me!--Stand, then,--stand!

Through yon same bending plain, That flings his arms down to the main, And through these thick woods have I run, Whose bottom never kissed the sun Since the lusty spring began; All to please my master Pan, Have I trotted without rest To get him fruit, for at a feast He entertains this coming night His paramour, the Syrinx bright.-- But behold, a fairer sight! By that heavenly form of thine, Brightest fair, thou art divine, Sprung from great immortal race Of the gods; for in they face Shines

Fool that I am, I have undone my self, And with my own hand turn'd my fortune round, That was a fair one: I have childishly Plaid with my hope so long, till I have broke it, And now too late I mourn for't; O Spaconia! Thou hast found an even way to thy revenge now, Why didst thou follow me like a faint shadow, To wither my desires? But wretched fool, Why did I plant thee 'twixt the Sun and me, To make me freeze thus? Why did I prefer her To the fair Princess? O thou fool, thou

If it please your lordship and members of the jury. I am not going to dispute the fact that the prisoner altered this cheque, but I am going to put before you evidence as to the condition of his mind, and to submit that you would not be justified in finding that he was responsible for his actions at the time. I am going to show you, in fact, that he did this in a moment of aberration, amounting to temporary insanity, caused by the violent distress under which he was labouring. Gentlemen, the prisoner is only

Let 'em come and find me. I've had enough o' this tryin' for work. Why should I go round and round after a job like a bloomin' squirrel in a cage. "Give us a job, sir"--"Take a man on"--"Got a wife and three children." Sick of it I am! I'd sooner lie here and rot. "Jones, you come and join the demonstration; come and 'old a flag, and listen to the ruddy orators, and go 'ome as empty as you came." There's some that seems to like that--the sheep! When I go seekin' for a job now,

Ye best know whether the condition of the Company is any better than the condition of the men. Ye best know whether ye can afford your tyranny--but this I tell ye: If ye think the men will give way the least part of an inch, ye're making the worst mistake ye ever made. Ye think because the Union is not supporting us--more shame to it!--that we'll be coming on our knees to you one fine morning. Ye think because the men have got their wives an' families to think of--that it's just a question of a week

We have been made the subject of an attack. [Looking round at WILDER and SCANTLEBURY with ironical contempt.] I take it on my shoulders. I am seventy-six years old. I have been Chairman of this Company since its inception two-and-thirty years ago. I have seen it pass

You don't want to hear me, then? You'll listen to Rous and to that old man, but not to me. You'll listen to Sim Harness of the Union that's treated you so fair; maybe you'll listen to those men from London? Ah! You groan! What for? You love their feet on your necks, don't

Well, Miss, 'ere we are, everything ship-shape, like they say. Great thing to 'ave, a lyedy, with clean 'abits. Sets me a good example. A man alone, 'e gets to livin' like a bloomin' og. Then, too, with me, it's always -- put things orf.....

Up to the day I killed my father, there wasn't a person in Ireland knew the kind I was, and I there drinking, waking, eating, sleeping, a quiet, simple poor fellow with no man giving me heed. And I after toiling, moiling, digging, dodging from the dawn till dusk with never a sight of joy or sport saving only when I'd be abroad in the dark night poaching rabbits on hills, for I was a devil to poach. I'd be as happy as the sunshine of St. Martin's Day, watching the light passing the north or the

The devil mend Mary Doul for putting lies on me, and letting on she was grand. The devil mend the old Saint for letting me see it was lies. The devil mend Timmy the smith for killing me with hard work, and keeping me with an empty, windy stomach in me, in the day and in the night. Ten thousand devils mend the soul of Molly Byrne and the bad, wicked souls is hidden in all the women of the world. [He rocks himself, with his hand over his face.] It's lonesome I'll be from this day, and

Hands off, I say! Stay then, and every devil may come to hear, And heaven may have it's laugh! I ever speak As if there were a Something there to listen: The shadow of the little mind, grotesque, Confident, helpless, thrown upon the clouds To serve him for a god. And I have sworn There is no God. --Ah, but there should be one! There should be one. And there's the bitterness Of this unending torture-place for men; For the proud soul who craves a Perfectness That might out-wear the rotting of all things Rooted in earth, that bloom so piercing

I saw thee first, Ay, from the first day when you cheated them With tales of old acquaintance, and made fond, And charmed the eyes of her, and took her heart, But for a whim. --Oh, I was not far off! Tho' you had made me a butt before them all, And turned her favor from the laughing-stock. Nothing to you it was! --All other folk,-- Their homes, so many ant-hills! -- All the world A show for you, a cheaper show than yours;-- A pageant wagon,--with the people, here, And overhead, their angels and their God, Another show! --And you to

You should see her. Little temptress. Black hair. Eyes as dark as night. And her smile! So … bewitching! Like the devil’s bride! Like Eve, holding the apple! Her eyes sparkling! Just daring you! Laughing! ...."

You’re a fake—that’s what you are. An impostor. You talk about your book—your great success. And it’s true, there isn’t a newspaper or journal to be found in which you and your book aren’t favorably mentioned. Everyone loves you. You’re the man of the hour! Who remembers me? No one...."

A superior?! Superior?! No! By heaven, which he Holds, and the abyss, and the immensity Of worlds and life, which I hold with himNo! I have a Victortrue; but no superior. Homage he has from allbut none from me:

And this is Life? Toil! And wherefore should I toil? because My father could not keep his place in Eden? What had I done in this? I was unborn:

Farewell! He's gone; and on his finger bears my signet, Which is to him a sceptre. He is stern As I am heedless and the slaves deserve

From my youth upwards My Spirit walked not with the souls of men, Nor looked upon the earth with human eyes; The thirst of their ambition was not mine, The aim of their existence was not mine; My joysmy griefsmy passionsand my powers,

I came to call ye back to your fit sphere, In the great name and at the word of God. Dear, dearest in themselves, and scarce less dear That which I came to do: till now we trod

I saw, that is, I dreamed myself Herehereeven where we are, guests as we were, Myself a host that deemed himself but guest, Willing to equal all in social freedom;

No light, save yon faint gleam which shows me walls Which never echo'd but to sorrow's sounds, The sigh of long imprisonment, the step Of feet on which the iron clank'd the groan Of death, the imprecation of despair! And yet for this I have

Thou false fiend, thou liest! My life is in its last hourthat I know, Nor would redeem a moment of that hour; I do not combat against Death, but thee And thy surrounding angels; my past power Was purchased by no compact with thy

Ye wilds, that look eternal; and thou cave, Which seem'st unfathomable; and ye mountains, So varied and so terrible in beauty; Here, in your rugged majesty of rocks

Ye, though you know and feel our mutual mass Of many wrongs, even ye are ignorant What fatal poison to the springs of Life, To human ties, and all that's good and dear, Lurks in the present institutes of Venice: All these men were

You see me here, As one of you hath said, an old, unarmed, Defenceless man; and yesterday you saw me Presiding in the hall of ducal state,

Don't talk about it, Tom. I've tried it, and it don't work; it don't work, Tom. It ain't for me; I ain't used to it. The widder's good to me, and friendly; but I can't stand them ways. She makes me get up just at the same time every morning; she makes me wash, they comb me all to thunder;

It was a noble big balloon, and had wings and fans and all sorts of things, and wasn't like any balloon you see in pictures. It was away out toward the edge of town, in a vacant lot, corner of Twelfth street; and there was a big crowd around it, making fun of it, and making fun of

It was a real bully circus. It was the splendidest sight that ever was when they all come riding in, two and two, a gentleman and lady, side by side, the men just in their drawers and undershirts, and no shoes nor stirrups, and resting their hands on their thighs easy and comfortable--there

It was Tom's idea--to start up a band of robbers. He made us swear an oath that if anybody that belonged to the band told the secrets, he must have his throat cut, and then have his carcass burnt up and the ashes scattered all around, and his name blotted off of the list with blood

It's a matter of PROPORTION, that's what it is; and when you come to gauge a thing's speed by its size, where's your bird and your man and your railroad, alongside of a flea? The fastest man can't run more than about ten miles in an hour -- not much over ten thousand times his own length.

Miss Watson told me to pray every day, and whatever I asked for I would get it. But it warn't so. I tried it. Once I got a fish-line, but no hooks. It warn't any good to me without hooks. I tried for the hooks three or four times, but somehow I couldn't make it work. By and by, one

She has no discrimination. She takes to all the animals--all of them! She thinks they are all treasures, every new one is welcome. When the brontosaurus came striding into camp, she regarded it as an acquisition, I considered it a calamity; that is a good sample of the lack of harmony

The judge and his late wife never had any children. The judge and his wife were past middle age when this treasure fell into their lap. One must make allowances for a parental instinct that has been starving for twenty-five or thirty years. It is famished, it is crazed with hunger

This new creature with the long hair is a good deal in the way. It is always hanging around and following me about. I don't like this; I am not used to company. I wish it would stay with the other animals. I get no chance to name anything myself. The new creature names everything

Wait, Nancy, wait--let me finish--I've been secretly bailing and fuming with this grand inspiration for weeks, and I must talk or I'll burst! I haven't whispered to a soul--not a word--have had my countenance under lock and key, for fear it might drop something that would tell even these animals

Well, if that ain't just like you, Huck Finn. You CAN get up the infant-schooliest ways of going at a thing. Why, hain't you ever read any books at all?--Baron Trenck, nor Casanova, nor Benvenuto Chelleeny, nor Henri IV, nor none of them heroes? Who ever heard of getting a prisoner

I expected this reception. All men hate the wretched. How, then, must I be hated, who am miserable beyond all living things! Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, thy creature, to whom thou art bound by ties only dissoluble by the annihilation of one of us. You purpose to

As soon as I saw you, before anyone could tell me, I should have known you. I recognise in your face the features of your lovely sister, whom marriage made mine in former days. Happy should I have been if cruel fate had permitted me to bring back that faithful wife, to enjoy with me the great delight of seeing once more, after our continual misfortunes, all her former friends. But since the irresistible power of destiny has for ever deprived us of her dear presence, let us try to

Love, generally speaking, is little apt to put up with these decrees, and lovers are always observed to extol their choice. Their passion never sees aught to blame in it, and in the beloved all things become loveable. They think their faults perfections, and invent sweet terms to call them by. The pale one vies with the jessamine in fairness; another, dark enough to frighten people, becomes an adorable brunette; the lean one has a good shape and is lithe; the stout one has a portly and majestic bearing; the

No, madam, there is no need for a stick, but only a heart less yielding and less melting at their love-tales. I am aware that your good looks accompany you, go where you will; but your reception retains those whom your eyes attract; and that gentleness, accorded to those who surrender their arms, finishes on their hearts the sway which your charms began. The too agreeable expectation which you offer them increases their assiduities towards you; and your complacency, a little less extended, would drive away the great crowd of

Alas! my dear Arbates, if for a while I defied the power of Love, he takes now full vengeance! If you but knew what sufferings are torturing my heart, even you would wish that I had never loved. For see where my destiny leads me! She whom I so ardently love is the Princess of

Are you not ashamed, gentlemen, to have shown so little prudence for people of your age, and to have quarrelled like two young madcaps? Do you not see What harm such disputes do us in the world, and is it not enough that learned men should see the want of agreement and difference

If we take fifty-two from sixty-four, we get twelve; five years you spent in Holland, seventeen; seven years spent in England, twenty-four; eight years in Rome, thirty-two; and if to thirty-two we add your age when we first became acquainted, we have exactly fifty-two. So that, Mr. Sganarelle, according to

If you knew the man as I do, you would find it no hard matter to believe. I have no proof as yet. You know that I was ordered to start before him, and we have had no talk together since his arrival; but it is as a kind of warning that I tell you, inter nos, that you see

Madam, all minds are not gifted with the necessary qualities which the delicacy of those fine sciences called abstruse require. There are some so material that they cannot conceive what others understand most easily. There is nothing more agreeable, Madam, than all the great promises of these sublime sciences. To

No, I am not a revered doctor, brother; no, all the knowledge of this world has not found its abode in me. I have merely the science of discerning truth from falsehood. And as I know nothing in the world so noble and so beautiful as the holy fervour of genuine piety, so there is nothing,

No, I tell you; they made a doctor of me in spite of myself. I had never dreamt of being so learned as that, and all my studies came to an end in the lowest form. I can't imagine what put that whim into their heads; but when I saw that they were resolved to force me to be a

No, you labour in vain, and in vain try to argue. Nothing can now deter me from my project; too much perversity reigns in our age, and I am resolved to avoid in future all intercourse with men. What! everyone sees that honour, probity, decency, and the laws are all against my adversary,

Our love for the beauty which is eternal, stifles not in us love for that which is fleeting and temporal; and we can easily be charmed with the perfect works Heaven has created. Its reflected attractions shine forth in such as you; but it is in you alone that its choicest wonders

There is no longer any shame in hypocrisy; it is a fashionable vice, and all fashionable vices pass for virtues. To act the part of a good man is the best part one can act. The profession of hipocrisy has wonderful advantages. It is an art, the imposture of which is always looked upon with

What! would you have a man bind himself to the first girl he falls in love with, say farewell to the world for her sake, and have no eyes for anyone else? A fine thing, to be sure, to pride oneself upon the false honour of being faithful, to lose oneself in one passion for ever,

Who goes there? [Listens] My fear increases every minute! Gentlemen, you see in me a friend of the whole world. Ah! what boldness in me to walk about at this time of the night! My master, all covered with glory as he is, plays me here but a wretched trick. What! if he had any

Hester ... I ask not wherefore, nor how, thou hast fallen into the pit, or say rather, thou hast ascended to the pedestal of infamy, on which I found thee. The reason is not far to seek. It was my folly, and thy weakness. I,a man of thought,the book-worm

Vera, the Nihilist in Moscow! O God, were it not better to die at once the dog's death they plot for me than to live as I live now! Never to sleep, or, if I do, to dream such horrid dreams that hell itself were peace when matched with them. To trust none but those I have bought, to buy none worth trusting! To see a traitor in every smile, poison in every dish, a dagger in every hand! To lie awake at night, listening from hour to hour

I am amorous of thy body, Iokanaan! Thy body is white, like the lilies of the field that the mower hath never mowed. Thy body is white like the snows that lie on the mountains of Judaea, and come down into the valleys. The roses in the gardens of the Queen of Arabia are not so white

Peace! Speak not to me! Salome, I pray thee be not stubborn. I have ever been kind toward thee. I have ever loved thee. It may be that I have loved thee too much. Therefore ask not this thing of me. This is a terrible thing, an awful thing to ask of me. Surely, thou art jesting. The head of a man ... cut from his body ... is ill to look upon. It is not meet that the eyes of a virgin should look upon such a thing. What

This play was good enough for us, Harry. It was ’Romeo and Juliet.’ I must admit I was rather annoyed at the idea of seeing Shakespeare done in such a wretched hole of a place. Still, I felt interested, in a sort of way. At any rate, I determined to wait for the first act. There was a dreadful orchestra, presided over by a young Jew who sat at a cracked piano, that nearly drove me away, but at last the drop-scene was drawn up, and the play began. Romeo

Well, well, so be it. I would have wished for fuller converse with you, My new friend, my honourable guest, But that it seems may not be. And besides,

I will speak, if I can, whose sorrow rising still Clouds its own utterance. My liege, my son, Don Lope, loved a lady here; seduced her By no feign'd vows of marriage, but compell'd By me, who would not listen to a suit Without my leave contracted, put it off From day to day, until the lady, tired Of a delay that argued treachery, Engaged her brother in the quarrel; who With two companions set upon my son One night to murder him. The lad, whose metal Would never brook affront, nor cared for odds, Drew on all three; slew one--a homicide That

Listen, Gil. You, I am sure, remember (time and absence Cannot have washed so much from memory) The pleasant time when you were last at Lisbon, And graced my house by making it your home. I need not tell of all we did and talk'd, Save what concerns me now; of the fair lady You knew me then enamour'd of, (how deeply I need not say--being a Portuguese, Which saying, all is said)--Donna Juana, At whose mere name I tremble, as some seer Smit with the sudden presence of his God. Two years we lived in the security Of mutual love, with

"Once more the storm has roar'd itself away, Splitting the crags of God as it retires; But sparing still what it should only blast, This guilty piece of human handiwork, And all that are within it. Oh, how oft, How oft, within or here abroad, have I Waited, and in the whisper of my heart Pray'd for the slanting hand of heaven to strike The blow myself I dared not, out of fear Of that Hereafter, worse, they say, than here, Plunged headlong in, but, till dismissal waited, To wipe at last all sorrow from men's eyes, And make this heavy dispensation

Don Arias, I love Don Cesar with as whole a heart As ever. He and I from infancy Have grown together; as one single soul Our joys and sorrows shared; till finding him So wise and true, as to another self Myself, and my dominion to boot, I did intrust: you are his friend, and surely In honouring you I honour him as well. Besides, Arias, I know not how it is, For some while past a change has come on him; I know not what the cause: he is grown sad, Neglects his business--if I call to him, He hears me not,

Princes and warriors of Poland--you That stare on this unnatural sight aghast, Listen to one who, Heaven-inspired to do What in its secret wisdom Heaven forecast, By that same Heaven instructed prophet-wise To justify the present in the past. What in the sapphire volume of the skies Is writ by God's own finger misleads none, But him whose vain and misconstructed eyes, They mock with misinterpretation, Or who, mistaking what he rightly read, Ill commentary makes, or misapplies Thinking tno shirk or thwart it. Which has done The wisdom of this venerable head; Who, well provided with the secret key To that gold alphabet, himself

Rise, both of you, Rise to my arms, Astolfo and Estrella; As my two sisters' children always mine, Now more than ever, since myself and Poland Solely to you for our succession look'd. And now give ear, you and your several factions, And you, the Peers and Princes of this realm, While I reveal the purport of this meeting In words whose necessary length I trust No unsuccessful issue shall excuse. You and the world who have surnamed me "Sage" Know that I owe that title, if my due, To my long meditation on the book Which ever lying open overhead-- The book of

Crouch then in silence. Awful Sufferer! To thee unwilling, most unwillingly I come, by the great Father's will driven down, To execute a doom of new revenge.

Evil minds Change good to their own nature. I gave all He has; and in return he chains me here Years, ages, night and day: whether the Sun Split my parched skin, or in the moony night The crystal-winged snow cling round my hair:

O rage! O despair! O inimical old age! Have I then lived so long only for this disgrace? And have I grown grey in warlike toils, only to see in one day so many of my laurels wither? Does my arm--which all Spain admires and looks up to--does my arm, which has so often saved this empire, and so often strengthened anew the throne of its king, now betray my cause, and do nothing for me? O cruel remembrance of my bygone glory! O work of a lifetime effaced in a day! New dignity fatal to my

Pierced even to the depth by a blow unexpected as well as deadly, pitiable avenger of a just quarrel and unfortunate object of an unjust severity, I remain motionless, and my dejected soul yields to the blow which is slaying me. So near seeing my love requited! O heaven, the strange pang! In this insult my father is the person aggrieved, and the aggressor is the father of ChimFne! What fierce conflicts I experience! My love is engaged against my own honor. I must avenge a father and lose a mistress. The one stimulates my courage, the other

Father, the gods implant reason in men, the highest of all things that we call our own. Not mine the skill--far from me be the quest!--to say wherein thou speakest not aright; and yet another man, too, might have some useful thought. At least, it is my natural office to watch, on thy behalf, all that men say, or do, or find to blame. For the dread of thy frown forbids the citizen to speak such words as would offend thine ear; but I can hear these murmurs in the dark, these moanings of the city

My liege, I will not say that I come breathless from speed, or that I have plied a nimble foot; for often did my thoughts make me pause, and wheel round in my path, to return. My mind was holding large discourse with me: "Fool, why goest thou to certain doom?" "Wretch, tarrying again? And if Creon hears this from another, must not thou smart for it?" So debating, I went on my way with lagging steps, and thus a short road was made long. At last, however, it carried the day that I should come

How many and how fierce and sore to tell The labours I with body and hands have wrought! And such an one not even the Spouse of Jove Set me, or the abhorred Eurystheus, ever, As this, which neus' daughter crafty-faced Fitted upon my shoulders--the web-toil Woven of the Furies, which is killing me. For plastered to my sides, it has gnawed off The surface of my flesh, and settles in And battens on the channels of the lungs, And has already drained all my fresh life-blood, And through my whole frame I am overthrown, Worsted by this unthought-for fetterment! Treatment such

[Led by a young boy] Princes of Thebes, we have come with linked steps, both served by the eyes of one; for thus, by a guide's help, the blind must walk. Thou standest on fate's fine edge. If thou wouldst learn the meaning of my words, heed the warnings of mine art. As I took my place on mine old seat of augury, where all birds have been wont to gather within my ken, I heard a strange voice among them; they were screaming with dire, feverish rage, that drowned their language in jargon; and I knew that

Ah, fierce full oft, and grievous not in name alone, have been the labours of these hands, the burdens borne upon these shoulders! But no toil ever laid on me by the wife of Zeus or by the hateful Eurystheus was like unto this thing which the daughter of Oeneus, fair and false, hath fastened upon my back,- this woven net of the Furies, in which I perish! Glued to my sides, it hath eaten my flesh to the inmost parts; it is ever with me, sucking the channels of

Ah, who would have supposed it possible The name I bear should ever be attuned To these misfortunes! Doubly, trebly now May I lament; so sore bested am I;

Aiai! Who ever would have thought my name Would harmonise so aptly with my woes? For now well may I wail that sound out twice, Yea thrice; such woeful destinies are mine, Whose father from this land of Ida won Fame's noblest guerdon over the whole host, And crowned with praises only sailed back home; But I, his son, who to the self-same Troy Came after him, in might no less than he, Nor rendering meaner service by my deeds, Dishonoured by the Argives perish thus. Yet this methinks I

Alas! how hateful to the gods, How very poor a wretch must I be then, That Greece should never hear of woes like mine! But they who sent me hither, they concealed them, And smile triumphant, whilst my cruel wounds Grow deeper still. O, sprung from great Achilles! Behold before thee Poeas' wretched son, With whom, a chance but thou hast heard, remain The dreadful arrows of renowned Alcides, E'en the unhappy Philoctetes- him Whom the Atreidae and the vile Ulysses Inhuman left, distempered as I was By the envenomed

And thou shalt not be frustrate of thy wish. Now my imaginings have gone so far. Who has a higher claim that thou to hear My tale of dire adventures? Listen then. My sire was Polybus of Corinth, and My mother Merope, a Dorian; And I was held the foremost citizen, Till a strange thing befell me, strange indeed, Yet scarce deserving all the heat it stirred. A roisterer at some banquet, flown with wine, Shouted "Thou art not true son of thy sire." It irked me, but I stomached

I am the son of Polybus, who reigns At Corinth, and the Dorian Merope His queen; there long I held the foremost rank, Honoured and happy, when a strange event (For strange it was, though little meriting The deep concern I felt) alarmed me

O front of impudence! Which thinkest thou Now to defile--My grey hairs, or thine own? Who hast spit forth out of thy mouth at me Murders and marriages and accidents, Which to my grief, not of free will, I suffered; Such was the will

O king! thou seest what numbers throng thy altars; Here, bending sad beneath the weight of years, The hoary priests, here crowd the chosen youth Of Thebes, with these a weak and suppliant train Of helpless infants, last in me behold The minister of Jove: far off thou seest Assembled multitudes, with laurel crowned, To where Minerva's hallowed temples rise Frequent repair, or where Ismenus laves Apollo's sacred shrine: too well thou knowst Thy wretched Thebes, with dreadful storms oppressed, Scarce lifts her head above the whelming flood; The teeming earth her blasted harvest mourns, And on the barren plain the flocks and herds Unnumbered

O thou fire! Thou universal horror! Masterpiece Abominable, of monstrous villainy! What hast thou done to me? How hast thou cheated me!

Category: Male: Classical