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Updated: September 7, 2025
She can tell by your face whether you love her, as you sit there in the twilight looking into the guiding star eyes, as well as though you grabbed her as you would a sack of wheat, and hung on like a dog to a root. Anna Dickinson is going upon the stage again and is to play male characters, such as "Hamlet," "Macbeth," and "Claude Melnotte."
"Well, Fogg, may the Lord have mercy on the audience as well as on Melnotte." "Oh, hold up, old chap. Don't be rough on a fellow. You know very well I have played much more difficult roles. Haven't I played Hamlet?" "You have, indeed," answered Handy, "and played the devil with him, too."
An Irish hack conveyed them to a miserable shanty in the environs of New York, where they alighted, and Frank, escorting the bride into the apartment which served for parlor, kitchen, and drawing room, and was neither papered nor carpeted, introduced her to his mother, much in the way Claude Melnotte presents Pauline.
Devine was kind to her, and continued to play the lover in his pompous style. She was proud of her man, too. He played Claude Melnotte for his benefit once, and she longed to say to the ladies in the theatre, "He belongs to me. How could she help being fascinated with him? Where could you find such another princely being?"
"I thought I was going to marry a quiet, studious, steady-going man; and here I find myself engaged to a romantic youth who flies about in the most undignified manner, embraces people behind doors, sings opera airs, very much out of tune by the way, and conducts himself more like an infatuated Claude Melnotte, than a respectable gentleman on the awful verge of matrimony.
She's in the sitting-room, and my mother's away down-town. Now's your chance, Claude Melnotte." She put both hands on his big, panting chest and pushed him backward towards the house. "You're good enough for anybody, and if I wasn't so young and daren't leave mother till I get my wisdom-teeth cut, and till I'm thirty-seven oh, oh, oh!" She laughed till the tears came into her eyes.
Rise; look triumphant; see the girl. Get to him, Miss Adair. Easy on the embrace: you're a shy little thing. 'My hero! you have saved me! Now, Melnotte: 'Clarice! it is you! you! Cut! How many feet, Jones? "Now we'll take the scene in the vat of sulphuric acid. Is the tank ready? You go lie down and rest, Miss Adair. We won't want you for half an hour."
When Fechter played Edmond Dantes or Claude Melnotte, he put reality into those preposterous inventions, and in Hamlet even his alien accent helped him vitalize the part; it might be held to be nearer the Elizabethan accent than ours; and after all, you said Hamlet was a foreigner, and in your high content with what he gave you did not mind its being in a broken vessel.
Now drag her across to the edge of the well. Pause, look back. Come on, Melnotte: yell at him! 'Stop, stop, you dog! Turn round, Higgins; draw your knife. Go to it now! Give 'em a real fight. That's all right. Only a little cut. The blood looks good. Get up, Miss Adair; crawl away on hands and knees. Don't forget you've been choked. Now take the knife away, Melnotte.
"Speak for yourself, Mamma," said Beechy. "Maida and I want to see the Lake of Como, where Claude Melnotte had his palace." "Oh, my, yes! In 'the Lady of Lyons. I do think that's a perfectly sweet play. Could we go there, Sir Ralph?" "I must consult my chauffeur," said I, cautiously. "He knows more about geography than I do. He ought to; he spends enough money on road-maps to keep a wife.
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