Richelieu: . t the sweets of leisure â An honoured home â far from these base intrigues â An eyrie on the heaven-kissed heights of wisdom â [ Taking up the to me, moralist! â I 11 heed thy it not best Enter FRANCOIS hastily, and in part disguised. RICHELIEU {flinging away the book). Philosophy, thou liest!Quick â the despatch ! Power â Empire ! Boy â thepacket. 11 o Richelieu me, my Lord. RICHELIEU. They knew thee â they suspected - They gave it not FRANCOIS. He gave it â heâthe CountDe Baradas â with his own hand he gave it! RICHELIEU. Baradas ! Joy ! out
Richelieu: . t the sweets of leisure â An honoured home â far from these base intrigues â An eyrie on the heaven-kissed heights of wisdom â [ Taking up the to me, moralist! â I 11 heed thy it not best Enter FRANCOIS hastily, and in part disguised. RICHELIEU {flinging away the book). Philosophy, thou liest!Quick â the despatch ! Power â Empire ! Boy â thepacket. 11 o Richelieu me, my Lord. RICHELIEU. They knew thee â they suspected - They gave it not FRANCOIS. He gave it â heâthe CountDe Baradas â with his own hand he gave it! RICHELIEU. Baradas ! Joy ! out with it! FRANCOIS. Listen,And then dismiss me to the headsman. RICHELIEU. Go on. Ha! led me to a chamber â ThereOrleans and Baradas â and some half-score,Whom I know not â were met RICHELIEU. Not more S FRANCOIS. But from The adjoining chamber broke the din of voices, The clattering tread of armed men ; at times A shriller cry, that yelled out, Death to Richelieu !. or, The Conspiracy. 111 RICHELIEU. Speak not of me : thy country is in danger!The adjoining roomâ So, so â a separate treason !The one thy ruin, France! âthe meaner crime,Left to their tools, my murder! â FRANCOIS. BaradasQuestioned me close â demurred âuntil, at last,Oerruled by Orleans, â gave the packet â told meThat life and death were in the scroll â this gold ââ is no proofâ FRANCOIS. And Orleans promised thousands,When Bouillons trumpets in the streets of ParisRang out shrill answer. â Hastening from the house,My footstep in the stirrup, Marion stoleAcross the threshold, whispering, Lose no momentEre Richelieu have the packet: tell him too âMurder is in the wings of Night, and OrleansSwears, ere the dawn the Cardinal shall be said, and trembling fled within; when, lo!A hand of iron griped me; through the darkGleamed the dim shadow of an armed man:Ere I could draw â the prize was wrested from me,And a hoarse voice gasped ââ
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, bookpublishernewyo, bookyear1896
