Act III   Scene 1   The women's apartments of the Palace. Andromeda, Diomede.   ANDROMEDA All's ready, let us go.   DIOMEDE Andromeda, My little mistress whom I love, let me Beseech you by that love, do not attempt it. Oh, this is no such pretty wilfulness As all men love to smile at and to punish With tenderness and chidings. It is a crime Full of impiety, a deed of danger That venturous and iron spirits would be aghast To dream of. You think because you are a child, You will be pardoned, because you are a princess No hand will dare to punish you. You do not know Men's hearts. They will not pause t

Incomplete and Fragmentary Stories   1891 ­ 1912     Fictional Jottings Mrs Bolton was one of those sharp and rancid women whose .. very aspect gives a cultured man the toothache; it recalls vividly the taste of sour grapes. There had perhaps been a time when she was not elderly, but the boldest flight of metaphor would never have imaged her as young. The slanders of her enemies drew a frightful picture of the low-class Gorgon: they compared her chin to a penknife, her lips to a pair of icicles: her smile was a perpetual reminder of vinegar, her voice was like frost against the teeth. The sobriety of history merely rec