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Showing: 41-50 results of 348

ACT I SCENE: The library of ASHER PINDAR'S house in Foxon Falls, a New Englandvillage of some three thousand souls, over the destinies of whichthe Pindars for three generations have presided. It is a large,dignified room, built early in the nineteenth century, with whitedoors and gloss woodwork. At the rear of the stage,—which is thefront of the house,—are three high windows with small, square panesof glass, and embrasures into which... more...

SCENE I. The Royal Gardens in Aranjuez.CARLOS and DOMINGO.DOMINGO.Our pleasant sojourn in AranjuezIs over now, and yet your highness quitsThese joyous scenes no happier than before.Our visit hath been fruitless. Oh, my prince,Break this mysterious and gloomy silence!Open your heart to your own father's heart!A monarch never can too dearly buyThe peace of his own son—his only son.[CARLOS looks on the ground in silence.Is there one dearest... more...

"The crescendo of quarrel is most skilfully and drolly arranged;— scene on classic lines boldly challenging and, what is more, maintaining comparison with Sheridan." Mr. A. B. Walkley—The London Times. "This new play, by Mr. Henry Arthur Jones, at The Haymarket, is surely as good a comedy as he has ever written. I should say, in evaluating Mr. Jones, that his greatest asset is his humor. We are grateful that Mr. Jones has that... more...

Mrs. Campbell: "Now this, I think, is the most exciting part of the whole affair, and the pleasantest." She is seated at breakfast in her cottage at Summering-by-the-Sea. A heap of letters of various stylish shapes, colors, and superscriptions lies beside her plate, and irregularly straggles about among the coffee-service. Vis-à-vis with her sits Mr. Campbell behind a newspaper. "How prompt they are! Why, I didn't expect to get half so... more...

PREFACE We are confronted at the present time by the woman who is anxious to lay by means for her own support irrespective of the protection of her husband. In this play I have indicated the tendency of this difficulty and the consequent troubles which the older civilizations will bring upon themselves when the woman's standing as a worker is generally acknowledged. My conclusion, namely, that all these complications and troubles are, at present... more...


Actus primus. Scena prima. Enter Uncle and Merchant. Merc. When saw you Valentine? Uncle. Not since the Horse-race, he's taken up with those that woo the Widow. Mer. How can he live by snatches from such people? he bore a worthy mind. Uncle. Alas, he's sunk, his means are gone, he wants, and which is worse,Takes a delight in doing so. Mer. That's strange. Unc. Runs Lunatick, if you but talk of states, he cannot be brought (now he has... more...

ACT I The MARCH'S dining-room opens through French windows on one of thosegardens which seem infinite, till they are seen to be coterminouswith the side walls of the house, and finite at the far end, becauseonly the thick screen of acacias and sumachs prevents another housefrom being seen. The French and other windows form practically allthe outer wall of that dining-room, and between them and the screenof trees lies the difference between the... more...

SCENE I. A high, rocky shore of the lake of Lucerne opposite Schwytz.The lake makes a bend into the land; a hut stands at a shortdistance from the shore; the fisher boy is rowing about in hisboat. Beyond the lake are seen the green meadows, the hamlets,and arms of Schwytz, lying in the clear sunshine. On the leftare observed the peaks of the Hacken, surrounded with clouds; tothe right, and in the remote distance, appear the Glaciers. TheRanz des... more...

Why the Chimes Rang. The scene is laid in a peasant's hut on the edge of a forest near a cathedral town. It is a dark low-raftered room lit only by the glowing wood fire in the great fireplace in the wall to the right, and by a faint moonlight that steals in through the little window high in the left wall. This window commands a view of the cathedral and of the road leading down into the town. The only entrance into the hut is the front door... more...

WASTE At Shapters, George Farrant's house in Hertfordshire. Ten o'clock on a Sunday evening in summer. Facing you at her piano by the window, from which she is protected by a little screen, sits Mrs. Farrant; a woman of the interesting age, clear-eyed and all her face serene, except for a little pucker of the brows which shows a puzzled mind upon some important matters. To become almost an ideal hostess has been her achievement; and in her own... more...