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Updated: May 12, 2025
"MONSIEUR LE COMTE, Of all my fortune I have now but two hundred thousand francs left. I beg of you not to exceed that amount, if you should do one of the most devoted servants of your family the honor of taking it. I present my respects to you. "He is one of Plutarch's men," Victurnien said to himself, as he tossed the letter on the table.
Let us welcome, therefore, the sparkling if transient gaiety of Siegfried. Wagner wrote to Malwida von Meysenbug: "I have, by chance, just been reading Plutarch's life of Timoleon. That life ended very happily a rare and unheard-of thing, especially in history. It does one good to think that such a thing is possible. It moved me profoundly." I feel the same when I hear Siegfried.
There lay the old documents, carefully rolled together, side by side, but the two bags with Plutarch's money and the Emperor's, had vanished. She took out one roll after another; then she tossed them all out on to the floor till the bottom of the chest was bare but the gold was really gone, nowhere to be found.
His affable exterior was said to conceal the moral courage of one of Plutarch's heroes. He was a man after the antique pattern, ready to lay down fortune, credit and freedom in the defence of his convictions. "An Agamemnon," Alfieri exclaimed, "who would not hesitate to sacrifice his daughter to obtain a favourable wind for his enterprise!"
Their saying in common, 'Plutarch's Pompeius, may be traceable to a reading of some professorial article on the common portrait-painting of the sage of Chaeroneia. The dainty savageness in the 'bite' Plutarch mentions, evidently struck on a similarity of tastes in both, as it has done with others.
A list of all Plutarch's writings would be a very long one. The most remarkable of his minor works is that 'On the Malignity of Herodotus. Grote takes this treatise as being intended seriously as an attack upon the historian, and speaks of the "honourable frankness which Plutarch calls his malignity."
The cardinal whispered a courtier, and presently the Pope's private secretary appeared with a glorious grimy old MS. of Plutarch's Lives. And soon Gerard was seated alone copying it, awe-struck, yet half delighted at the thought that his holiness would handle his work and read it. The papal inkstands were all glorious externally; but within the ink was vile.
At those windows Charlotte might have sat over her copy of Plutarch's "Lives," a ruminating republican in white muslin, before the Revolution, or have gazed at the sombre church of St. Jean across the street, in the happier days before she despised going to old-fashioned worship. Bessie looked up at them more awed than ever. "I hope her ghost does not haunt the house.
Such a Scotland was no country for Montrose. Away from Edinburgh, therefore, on one or other of his estates, in Perthshire, Forfarshire, Stirlingshire, or Dumbartonshire, and only occasionally in the society of his wife and his four little boys, we see him for some months, thrown back moodily upon himself, hunting now and then, corresponding with his friends Napier and Keir, but finding his chief relief in bits of Latin reading, dreams of Plutarch's heroes, and the writing of scraps of verse.
She fancied the head of one of the Roman emperors to be like his Grace of Montague; she had a very lively though garbled familiarity with the histories of the veritable Brutus and Cassius, Coriolanus, Cato, Alexander, and other mighty, picturesque, cobbled-up ancients, into whose mouths she could put appropriate speeches; and she accepted a loan of his 'Plutarch's Lives, "to clear up her classics," as she said merrily; altogether poor Squire Rowland felt that he had feasted at an intellectual banquet.
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