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She lives for ever; ye are transitory, Her honour is unstained; but your glory Is mere deceit A painted bait, Hung out for such as sit at Folly's gate. True peace, content, and joy on her attend; You, on the contrary, your forces bend To blear men's eyes With fopperies, Which fools embrace, but wiser men despise.
Fowler's, "happiness costs so little," floated through Gabriella's mind as she poured Miss Folly's coffee out of the tin coffee pot.
Themselves contend in vain. Exalted reason, Resplendent daughter of the head divine, Wise foundress of the system of the world, Guide of the stars, who art thou then if thou, Bound to the tail of folly's uncurbed steed, Must, vainly shrieking with the drunken crowd, Eyes open, plunge down headlong in the abyss. Accursed, who striveth after noble ends, And with deliberate wisdom forms his plans!
It consisted of one solid sweep of French mirror so limpid that reflection became reality. It was fringed with tiny veiled lights. Once more Folly's gay ripple of laughter rang out, but it was unaccompanied this time. Leighton's fighting blood was up. He stared at her stolidly. "Look here," he said, "I do want to talk to you. Put out those cursed little lights!"
Here is another: Most serviceable woman! thou art gone! Genuine tablet that, and the next: Men that are fools are their own folly's butt. Taken with reference to yourself, by the way, nothing could be more to the point than this last line; Dionysius's tablets deserved gilding, if only for that. What is your idea, now, in all this rolling and unrolling of scrolls?
I will not, however, allow myself to be led off into this alluring digression, whether books or experience make a man wiser. As Moore says: My only books Were woman's looks, And folly's all they taught me. The so-called men of the world often know little enough of the world of men. It is a delusion to think that the business man is necessarily business-like.
His confession to some degree of weakness, even to folly, stung his pride of individuality so that he had to soothe the pain by tearing himself from a thought of his folly's partner, shutting himself up and away from her. Then there was a cessation of annoyance, flatteringly agreeable: which can come to us only of our having done the right thing, young men will think.
'Take me up, and bear me hence Into some other chamber'" "Glad to see you back, Mr. Tarbox," responded the host; and as his guest received the candle and heard the number of his room, "books must 'a' went well this fine day." Mr. Tarbox fixed him with his eye, drew a soft step closer, said in a low tone: "'My only books Were woman's looks, And folly's all they've taught me."
Because you so well understand the intensity of my devotion to the broadly progressive principles of our matchless republic, you may, consequently, guess the full measure of my scorn for this foolish, title-hunting class of creatures who, like silly moths, blindly sacrifice themselves in folly's funereal flame.
If she was allowed to pick the other woman, she could just put up with a partie carrée. But she hadn't picked out Lady Derl. Lady Derl was something that had never touched her world except from a box across the footlights on an occasional première. One flash of Folly's eyes took in Lady Derl, and then her long lashes drooped before Lady Derl had time to take in Folly. Folly's whole self drooped.
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