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"What right has a man to demand everything and offer nothing in return except an ambition and a hope? Love must come as a giver, not as a beggar." "A knight should not ask to wear his lady's colours until he has won his spurs." "King Cophetua and the beggar-maid very fine! but the other way humiliating!" "A woman may take everything from a man, wealth and fame and position.
Do you know where a woman named Cophetua lives?" "I never heard of her." "Out of your beat. She lives a little off the road to the Blackberry Hill. I have taken her house, and put a woman in it to do whatever you want done." "I? But we never kept help, since I can remember, Basil; not house help." "Well? That proves nothing." "But I don't need anybody I can do all that we want."
And in another letter from the same source, the dramatic criticism on that style of literature which it was the intention of this School 'to reform altogether' is thus continued. ... 'The magnanimous and most illustrate King Cophetua, set eye upon the pernicious and indubitate beggar Zenelophon. Why did he come? to see. Why did he see? to overcome. To whom came he? to the beggar.
And, then, having thus pleaded her cause and pleaded, as she believed, the cause of her lover also she ceased from speaking, and prepared herself to listen to the story of King Cophetua. But Lady Lufton felt considerable difficulty in commencing her speech.
Faith kissed her, and explained: "I fainted it was so hot and he brought me home in his car." Her eyes fell for some reason which she could not understand. "He was very kind," she added. "And you don't know who he is?" her mother asked anxiously. Faith shook her head. "He didn't tell me, but ... mother who was King Cophetua?"
The old man, who looks like some Platonist philosopher, the beardless prince, surrounded by his noisy huntsmen and pages; and that dark-bearded youth in the Byzantine dress and shovel hat, the genuine king from the East, riding with ardent, wistful eyes, a beautiful kingly young Quixote: Sir Percival seeking the Holy Grail, or King Cophetua seeking for his beggar girl.
"I think this must be your home," he said, and Faith gave a sigh. It had been such a heavenly drive; why did all beautiful things end so soon? He opened the door of the car and gave her his hand. "Good-bye, Queen Cophetua," he said. His grey eyes rested on her serious little face. "Or perhaps we won't say good-bye, as I hope we shall meet again."
Can't you fancy the tone in which she will explain to me the conventional inconveniences which arose when King Cophetua would marry the beggar's daughter? how she will explain what Griselda went through; not the archdeacon's daughter, but the other Griselda?" "But it all came right with her." "Yes; but then I am not Griselda, and she will explain how it would certainly all go wrong with me.
Gerald Chandos was not a man of the King Cophetua stamp, and that there was neither romance nor poetry in allowing such a man to amuse himself at her expense. Poor Mollie! It would be a humiliating view to take of a first conquest, but it would be the best thing for her in the end. Dolly sighed over the mere prospect of the task before her.
The Cophetua legend never has been told from the beggar-maid's point of view, and there must have been moments when, if a woman of spirit, she resented that monarch's somewhat condescending attitude, and felt that, secure in his wealth and magnificence, he had taken her grateful acquiescence very much for granted. This, she saw now, was what had prejudiced her against George Vince.
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