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Updated: June 1, 2025
"He would not outweigh Vitelius," put in Cæsar. "Eheu! Silver-bowed, my wit is not of lead." "I see that thy faith does not hinder thee from calling me a god." "O Immortal! My faith is in thee; the Christians blaspheme against that faith, and I hate them." "What dost thou know of the Christians?" "Wilt thou permit me to weep, O divinity?" "No," answered Nero; "weeping annoys me."
The judge rose in his little tribune, laid aside his silver-bowed spectacles, roached his gray hair up with his fingers, and said, with dignity and solemnity, and even with a certain pathos: "In all my experience on the bench, I have not seen justice bow her head in shame in this court until this day.
"I see by the Globe paper," Cap'n Abe observed, pushing up from his bewhiskered visage the silver-bowed spectacles he really did not need, "that them fellers saved from the wreck of the Gilbert Gaunt cal'late they went through something of an adventure." "And they did," rejoined Cap'n Joab Beecher, "if they seen ha'f what they tell about."
The pleasure of the contest took stronger possession of the anchorite; he flung his raiment from him, and seizing another stone he cried out as though he were standing once more in the wrestling school among his old companions; all shining with their anointment. "By the silver-bowed Apollo, and the arrow-speeding Artemis, I will hit the palm-tree."
The pleasure of the contest took stronger possession of the anchorite; he flung his raiment from him, and seizing another stone he cried out as though he were standing once more in the wrestling school among his old companions; all shining with their anointment. "By the silver-bowed Apollo, and the arrow-speeding Artemis, I will hit the palm-tree."
"Any close-ter?" she asked over her silver-bowed spectacles. She came to his side and they placidly conversed. As she began to leave him, "No," she said, "we kin wish, but we mustn' meddle. All any of us want' or got any rights to want is to see 'em on speakin' terms. F'om dat on, hands off. Leave de rest to de fitness o' things, de everlast'n' fitness o' things!"
It lighted up the red curtains and made a halo round good Nurse Lucy's head as she bent over her sewing; it played on the farmer's silver-bowed spectacles as he pored with knitted brows and earnest look over the weekly paper which he had brought from the village. The good, kind farmer!
Of a sudden, two memories had returned one, of the passing musicians, with their nudging and insolent smirks; the other, of a man who had leaned back in his saddle and laughed after all, perhaps, not at her name. "I I suppose they're more like Marylyn," she faltered. The evangelist adjusted his silver-bowed spectacles and smiled down at her. "And if they are, would it worry you, daughter?"
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