ACT THE FIRST. SCENE I.BATTLEMENTS, WITH A SEA PROSPECT. Enter Zanga. Zan. Whether first nature, or long want of peace, Has wrought my mind to this, I cannot tell; But horrors now are not displeasing to me:[thunder. I like this rocking of the battlements. Rage on, ye winds; burst, clouds; and, waters, roar! You bear a just resemblance of my fortune, And suit the gloomy habit of my soul.   Enter Isabella.... more...

ACT I. Scene I. Witch bends over fire in middle of orchard, brewing a charm in her caldron. Ogre stalks in, grinning frightfully, swinging his bludgeon in triumph. Ogre Ha, old witch, it is done at last! I have broken the King's stronghold! I have stolen away his children twain From the clutch of their guardsmen bold. I have dragged them here to my castle tower. Prince Hero is strong and fair. But he and his sister shall rue my... more...

THE RECKONING The scene is a barber shop. At the center is the chair, facing a mirror and washstand at the right. The tiled walls are sprinkled with the usual advertisements. At the rear, a door leads up to the street by a flight of two or three steps. A dock on the left wall indicates three. At the rise of curtain, THE BARBER, a man of fifty, is discovered sharpening a razor, and whistling softly to himself. He finishes with the razor; seats... more...

THE NOBLE LORD A secluded spot in the Maine woods in the neighborhood of a summer hotel. It is the middle of July. The trees are covered with foliage, a hot sun casts dancing shadows upon the mossy ground, and the air is full of the twittering of birds and the rustle of leaves. A winding path crosses from one side to the other, and near the center is a little clearing: the stump of a felled tree, with the lichen-covered trunk itself near it, and... more...

CHARACTERS JIM WESTON: Guitarist, Methodist, slightly arrogant, agressive, somewhat self-important, ready with his tongue. DAVE CARTER: Dancer, Baptist, soft, happy-go-lucky character, slightly dumb and unable to talk rapidly and wittily. DAISY TAYLOR: Methodist, domestic servant, plump, dark and sexy, self-conscious of clothes and appeal, fickle. JOE CLARK: The Mayor, storekeeper and postmaster, arrogant, ignorant and powerful in a... more...

ACT I. SCENE I.——VALÈRE, ÉLISE. Val. What, dear Élise! you grow sad after having given me such dear tokens of your love; and I see you sigh in the midst of my joy! Can you regret having made me happy? and do you repent of the engagement which my love has forced from you? Eli. No, Valère, I do not regret what I do for you; I feel carried on by too delightful a power, and I do not even wish that things... more...

MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR.   Besides the copies of the Merry Wives of Windsor appearing in the folios and modern editions, a quarto, Q3, has been collated in these Notes, of which the following is the title: The | Merry Wives | of Windsor. | with the humours of Sir John Falstaffe, | as also, The swaggering Vaine of Ancient | Pistoll, and Corporall Nym. |written by William Shake-speare. | Newly corrected. | London: | printed by... more...

Act I The scene is laid in the living-room of the small home of the Quixanos in the Richmond or non-Jewish borough of New York, about five o'clock of a February afternoon. At centre back is a double street-door giving on a columned veranda in the Colonial style. Nailed on the right-hand door-post gleams a Mezuzah, a tiny metal case, containing a Biblical passage. On the right of the door is a small hat-stand holding Mendel's overcoat, umbrella,... more...

THE FIRST ACT SCENE: The terrace of the Hotel Regina Margherita, on the cliff at Sorrento, overlooking the Bay of Naples. There is a view of the bay and its semi-circular coast-line, dotted with villages; Vesuvius gray in the distance. Across the stage at the rear runs a marble balustrade about three feet high, guarding the edge of the cliff. Upon the left is seen part of one wing of the hotel, entrance to which is afforded by wide-open double... more...

THE JEW OF MALTA. Enter MACHIAVEL.MACHIAVEL. Albeit the world think Machiavel is dead,Yet was his soul but flown beyond the Alps;And, now the Guise is dead, is come from France,To view this land, and frolic with his friends.To some perhaps my name is odious;But such as love me, guard me from their tongues,And let them know that I am Machiavel,And weigh not men, and therefore not men's words.Admir'd I am of those that hate me most:Though some... more...