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Updated: June 13, 2025


I did not care no woman really cares to play the beggar maid to your King Cophetua." "Then you will really give it all up!" he exclaimed. She laughed. "When we go indoors I will show you the offers I have refused," she answered. "They have all been trying to turn my head. I think that nearly every manager in London has made me an offer. My reply to all of them has been the same.

He was King Cophetua, and many times during rehearsal Alice had warned May that her reading of the character was not right; but May did not seem able to accommodate herself to the author's view of the character, and, after a few minutes, fell back into her old swagger; and now, excited by the presence of an audience, by the footlights, by the long coat under which she knew her large, well-shaped legs could be seen, she forgot her promises, and strolled about like a man, as she had seen young Scully saunter about the stable-yard at home.

But what's the good when I know it all beforehand? Have I not desired King Cophetua to take himself and sceptre elsewhere?" And then she started, having first said another word or two about the Crawley children, and obtained a promise of Puck and the pony-carriage for the afternoon.

I always said that young man was 'un heros de romans! Ma foi! this is the prettiest little episode I ever heard of. Just King Cophetua and the beggar-maid only reversed. How do you feel, my Queen Cophetua?" "I do not quite understand you, Caroline." "Neither should I you, for the tale seems incredible. Only you gave me such an honest 'yes, and I know you never tell even white lies.

Promising that she would tell "the missus," the little servant showed him into a tiny sitting-room, very clean and bright, with blue cretonne curtains and a blue carpet and an engraving of "King Cophetua and The Beggar Maid" over the mantelpiece. Directly you came into the room, everything in it got up and shouted "Tottenham Court Road."

"But Mollie," he said, "with all her belief in Cophetua, you think there is not enough of the beggar-maid element in her character to sustain her under like circumstances?"

"She's pretty enough to meet a King Cophetua," Cardington remarked judicially. The observation was directed at Miss Wycliffe, and was an effort to make her forget the conversation in which his animus had led him to transgress even his elastic limits with her. There was something almost comical in the concerned expression of his light blue eyes, no longer fierce, as he gazed at her.

She was beautiful, and that was all, and all in all to me; and had our stations been exchanged, and more than exchanged; had I been King Cophetua, or she the beggar-maid, I should have gloried in her just as much. Beloved sleepless hours, which I spent in picturing that scene to myself, with all the brilliance of fresh recollection! Beloved hours! how soon you pass away!

How would it sound in song, that a great monarch had declined his affections upon the daughter of a baker! yet do we feel the imagination at all violated when we read the "true ballad," where King Cophetua wooes the beggar maid? Pauperism, pauper, poor man, are expressions of pity, but pity alloyed with contempt. No one properly contemns a beggar.

G ," he said to King Cophetua. "You will get bit there if you don't look out." How the sister would have pressed that warning had she dared! Innocent as her lover might be, she believed that Mrs. G saw the growing passion and encouraged it. But there was nothing to take hold of. There was nothing bold, forward or inviting in her manner.

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