Peanut Butter And Jellyfishes Brian P Cleary

download

https://ebookbell.com/product/peanut-butter-and-jellyfishes-
brian-p-cleary-46520826

Explore and download more ebooks at ebookbell.com

Here are some recommended products that we believe you will be
interested in. You can click the link to download.

Peanut Butter And Jellyfish Readalong Ebook Jane Oconnor

https://ebookbell.com/product/peanut-butter-and-jellyfish-readalong-
ebook-jane-oconnor-48688144

Peanut Butter And Jellyfish Jarrett J Krosoczka

https://ebookbell.com/product/peanut-butter-and-jellyfish-jarrett-j-
krosoczka-33688268

Peanut Butter And Jellyfish Krosoczka Jarrett J

https://ebookbell.com/product/peanut-butter-and-jellyfish-krosoczka-
jarrett-j-61184300

Peanut Butter And Dragon Wings A Mothers Search For Grace Shari Zook

https://ebookbell.com/product/peanut-butter-and-dragon-wings-a-
mothers-search-for-grace-shari-zook-46370834
Peanut Butter And Dragon Wings Shari Zook

https://ebookbell.com/product/peanut-butter-and-dragon-wings-shari-
zook-232351236

Judge Not How A Lack Of Discernment Led To Drunken Pastors Peanut

Butter Armpits And The Fall Of A Nation Todd Friel Friel

https://ebookbell.com/product/judge-not-how-a-lack-of-discernment-led-
to-drunken-pastors-peanut-butter-armpits-and-the-fall-of-a-nation-
todd-friel-friel-33504946

Creamy And Crunchy An Informal History Of Peanut Butter The

Allamerican Food Jon Krampner

https://ebookbell.com/product/creamy-and-crunchy-an-informal-history-
of-peanut-butter-the-allamerican-food-jon-krampner-51903416

Peanut Butter Comfort Recipes For Breakfasts Brownies Cakes Cookies

Candies And Frozen Treats Featuring Americas Favorite Spread 2013th
Edition Averie Sunshine

https://ebookbell.com/product/peanut-butter-comfort-recipes-for-
breakfasts-brownies-cakes-cookies-candies-and-frozen-treats-featuring-
americas-favorite-spread-2013th-edition-averie-sunshine-12028356

My Weird School Fast Facts Pizza Peanut Butter And Pickles Dan Gutman

https://ebookbell.com/product/my-weird-school-fast-facts-pizza-peanut-
butter-and-pickles-dan-gutman-48671592
 ry o k
A Ve S i l ly A B o
lphabe t
ian P
Br . Clea
by ry
tra t i o n s by B
il lu s etsyE. Snyder
 A Ve ry Si ll y o k
Al phab et Bo

by Brian P. Cleary
illustrations by Betsy E. Snyder

j Millbrook Press • Minneapolis

A is for antelopes
forming an arc.
B begins birch trees
with bubblegum bark.
Random documents with unrelated
content Scribd suggests to you:
That there is nothing here I am not ready to leave behind as one
rises from a chair.
But I see a fly, a plant, a stone, yet him I do not see.
And if I do not find him why have my eyes been dowered with the
faculty of seeing, and my hands with fingers as if they saw!
For I raise my hands and move them here and there!
And will someone speak of self-control and of works of betterment
by which the noble man consecrates himself like a temple?
I do not care to be loved. But I know how to love and I would see
and have!
And against these sure desires there is only a vague perhaps.
And why will it later be otherwise? For I am made of flesh and
blood, as my mother made me.

Tête-d'or: What is it? You look at me strangely and there is

something in you that I do not recognise.

Cébès: You have come, O Conqueror,

To all the rest like the promise of a future of happy days!
For me alone you bring no rescue!
Tête-d'or: What do you mean?
Cébès (lying down again): I am dying.
Tête-d'or: What did you say?
Cébès: What the doctors told me, and it is the truth.
Tête-d'or: No!
Cébès: I shall not live through another night. I shall not live till
noon.
Tête-d'or: No! No!
Cébès: It is not the pain that I fear, and the cramps, and the
horrible struggle to vomit,
When my mouth is filled with bile and blood and the sweat pours out
of my body like water from a sponge.
This I can bear, for my heart is stout, and I shall look in your face,
my brother, in the hour of my torture.
Why was I born? For I die and then I shall exist no more.
The shadows had closed about me so that I slept in darkness and
woke in darkness. And I saw nothing; and I was deaf and heard no
sound.
For I am like a man buried alive, and I am confined as in an oven!
Give me light! Give me light! Give me light! Give me light! For I
would see!
Give me air, for I stifle!
Give me to drink, for I do not want the water that they bring me.
But you, give me water to drink, that I may die in peace, for I am
consumed with thirst!
O brother! I have put my trust in you! Will you not help me? I beg
you, soldier, head of gold, O my bright-haired brother!
Tête-d'or: Oh! That I could do as does the eagle,
Who, letting fall a useless prey, perishes in his ravaged eyrie!
Why did you cross my path?
Why, like pride, having kneeled before me, did you clasp me in your
arms like a tree or a fountain?
On my heart, he pressed his face against this throbbing regret!
And again he asks my help in the hour of his death!
I do not understand! I have done my best
And I have turned my steps towards that house of sin,
And I thought that, having renounced all selfish hope,
To-day I would work with my hands.
You speak of desire, the necessity of the present hour constrains
me!
The rapacious desire drags me forward through this place of horror.
And he asks, and I cannot reply to this poor luckless child, and he is
dying before my eyes!
Cébès: You weep? Is that your only answer?
Tête-d'or: I beg you
To leave me alone and not to question me. What do you want of
me? Shall I hide you in my belly and give birth to you again?
It is most horrible
That you should draw these woman's tear-drops from me.
You question me and, like a brutish thing,
I can reply only by these vain waters!

Cébès: You shall not escape me thus. Answer and I will question
you. For you are my teacher and must answer me.
Answer! When a man dies does something still survive?
Tête-d'or: Be still, and try me no more.
Cébès: Answer! Is there an end of the personality? For as for the
bodily form we know that it disappears.
Tête-d'or: I answer that man has been conceived according to the
flesh.
Cébès: And to die is not to escape?
Tête-d'or: This world was made for man and a limit was set about
him,
That he might not escape and that no one might enter in.

Cébès: Then I shall die and shall no longer exist?

Tête-d'or: I will tell you what I know when I do not know it.
And my answer is silence, and the breath that blows from the open
and black abyss.
You did not breathe in the days when you lay in the womb of your
mother,
But her blood entered into your body and flowed in you and your
heart was moored to her heart through the middle of your belly,
And having come out of her you breathed and uttered a cry!
I also have uttered a cry,
A cry like a babe new-born, and I have drawn the keen and burning
sword, and have beheld
Humanity divide before me like the separation of the waters!
And now I return to you and find you in the lassitude of death!
Must everyone that I love die and leave me alone?
Must you wither in my hands like a flower of the stream before I had
asked "Who are you?" and you had answered me?
Pit of weariness! Horror in which I stand! Is there someone here?
Is there something stable here? Who will carve a letter upon the
face of the Mountain?
We can eat; we can lay a dish before ourselves and feed;
But the gravel sets our teeth on edge and ever from our eyes there
flow invisible tears.
Then go to the common home! And now I say to you,
Hope not to still survive, being dead,
For how can any man see without his eyes, and how else will he be
able
To grasp than with his hands?
Cébès: If this is so,
O my body you have been of little worth,
For you die and I must die along with you.
I shall die like a four-footed beast, and shall exist no more.
Why then has it been given to me to know this?
(He begins to scream.) Ah! Ah!
Tête-d'or: Yes, cry!
Cébès: Night! O Night!
Tête-d'or: The night is vast and wide, and the sun is lost in it,
And the silence, that no voice breaks nor any word, endures.

Cébès: Forever and ever!

Tête-d'or: Cry! Cry!
Cébès: As for you, you live. You live and you watch me dying at
your feet! Oh! Oh!
O Tête-d'or, can't you do anything for me? For I suffer!
Tête-d'or (changing his tone): Do not be afraid! I am here! Do not
be afraid
To die. All is vanity and nothingness.

Cébès: Do not go! Be my nurse! Stay here. Let me be with you

A little longer. Do not be disgusted with me because I die.
Tête-d'or: Look, I hold your hand. What was it I said just now?
Come! Death is nothing. Smile! Won't you smile for me?

Cébès: Alone!
Tête-d'or: What's that?
Cébès: Alone....
Tête-d'or: Alone? What are you saying?
Cébès: ... I die!
Tête-d'or: Am I not with you?
Cébès: Alone I die!
For I do not know who I am and I flee away and vanish like a spring
that disappears!
Then why do you say that you love me? Why do you lie?
For who can love me
Since I cease to be when my body dies?
A bitter indignation boils within me!
My bowels bloat! I am racked with fearful retchings
That strive to rive apart the fastening of my bones!
Alone I die! And I pant in vain for breath and there is something in
me that is not satisfied;
More alone than the strangled babe that its murderous mother
buries at the bottom of a dunghill,
Among the broken dishes and dead cats, in earth that is full of fat
pink worms!
(He tries to get up.
Tête-d'or: What are you doing? Stay where you are!
Come, you cannot get out of bed!
(He holds him back.
Cébès: I want to get up, to walk again! Oh! I can live!
Leave me alone! Let go of me!
Tête-d'or: Stay where you are! Are you mad? Don't you recognise
me?
What would you do?
Cébès: Will you not let me go, wretched man! O coward!
I hate you—O the great beast, he holds me!
—Will you not let me go!
(He bites his hand, frees himself,
struggles to his feet and falls,
tête-d'or puts him back on his
bed.
Tête-d'or: You see!
Cébès (screaming): Ho, ho, ho!
Tête-d'or: Be quiet! Calm yourself!
Cébès (screaming): Ho!
Tête-d'or: You turn my heart to ice! Do not howl like a wolf in this
unholy night!
Cébès: Oh! O God!
Tête-d'or: Cébès!
Cébès: Let me alone!
Tête-d'or: Have you forgotten....
Cébès: Leave me!
(His mouth still open, he slowly
lays his head on his pillow. Then
he begins to smile. Pause.
Tête-d'or, there are many kinds of men, the weak and the strong,
the sick and the well.
I pity them; the incompetent and the stammering, the poor of spirit
and those that ask for alms
With the deprecating smile that masks the shudder of shame behind.
And those that are mocked and cannot make reply, and cowards,
And those who from the darkness of their souls exhale a prayer
devoid of savor!
And you, do you not also pity me?
And I say to you like that woman
When she lay at the roadside in the shadow of death;
"Why do you let me die?"
Tête-d'or: Take me with you if you wish! Do you think that I am
not weary?
Groaning, I strove to tear myself from those strong and bony hands.
And now you weep and would bring me again to that terrible
repose!
The wind ruffles my hair and the heartbreak of the earth lies stark
and bare before my despairing eyes! And I look and am filled with
shame!
O the fate of the bee and the fly whose life lasts only a season and
endures but a single day!
And the birds of the wood are also alive; and the caterpillar that
crawls on the leaf and the broom that roots in the sand,
And the ravening beast and the thistle with purple flowers!
And you, who are dying, you counsel me to die!
I cannot loose my limbs from these tough ligatures!
O world! O self! O shameful destiny!
Let me be iron and like a thing of wood!
Cébès: What hope....
Tête-d'or: I look at you and is it thus you lie!
Cébès: Come, let's not talk of it. Things are better than you think.
But, tell me....
I do not understand ... you follow me ... eh? What inner pride, what
secret flame....
Tête-d'or: Neither do I, I do not understand! I am tired!
You speak of hidden things that the thick tongue shudders to say,
Tales with no basis of reason, blood that flows like saliva!
A little word of consolation watches beneath all wretchedness,
Sweet forget-me-not of fire that lights us mournfully with its faithful
gleam!
—Beyond the silence a voice like the human voice
Spoke to my soul and it melted and flowed like iron in the foundry!
Still it resounds! That fervent hope warms us again like coffee!
O glowing geranium! O clot of sunlight! It throbs! It bleeds like a
fragment of living flesh!
For there is a force and a spirit in me
Like the bellows blowing on iron in the fire.
I beg of you, do not ask me anything more!
Cébès: Yet it must be.
—Mother, my brother! O nurse with sides caparisoned in steel!

Tête-d'or: Well?
Cébès: O brother, so at the last you have found no word to tell me!
Ah well,
I, I have something to tell to you.
Tête-d'or: What?
Cébès: It has not been permitted that I should die in such despair!
And now I am beyond all pain,
And it troubles me no more. Tête-d'or!

Tête-d'or: What, brother?

Cébès: Take me in your arms and hold me, for there is no longer
any strength in me. And put me on your shoulder like an armful of
leafy branches.
O Tête-d'or! you have baptised me with your blood. Now like a babe
I lie upon your breast and pour forth on your bosom all myself,
For every tie is dissolved and I am like a severed branch.
(tête-d'or takes cébès in his
arms.
Tête-d'or: Thus in my turn I take you in my arms.
Cébès: They say
That if in the midst of his path through a dreary solitude,
Of a sudden the wanderer halts at the summons of his heart,
It is love, that locks the man and woman in agonised embrace.
They do not recognise themselves and the lover feels a pang like the
stab of a knife beneath his ribs,
And invents those phrases that begin with O,
Imitating the piercing cries of sea-birds, for their silence is like the
peace of the waters.

Tête-d'or: What have you to say to me?

Cébès: O Tête-d'or! I am not a woman and neither am I a man,
For I am not of age, and I am already as if I were no more.
Tête-d'or: Who are you then?
Cébès: O Tête-d'or, all pain is past!
The snare is broken and I am free! I am the plant that has been
uprooted from the earth!
There is a joy that comes with man's last hour. That joy am I and
the secret that can no longer be told.
O Tête-d'or, I give myself to you and deliver myself into your hands!
So hold me while I am with you.
Tête-d'or: O Cébès, whom thus I have taken in my arms, I will
question you in my turn. Hand yearns to hand
And mouth to mouth, yet never do they meet, for an invisible barrier
lies between.
That is the pang of love through which it is like the water that boils
and disappears.

Cébès: Then love me more for I scarcely can be called a living man.
And I am like a bird that one seizes on the wing.
Tête-d'or: O brother, I have jealously taken from you the woman
you loved. And you would have been happy with her. But it was
destined that your love should be given to none but me.
Brother! Child!
O all the tenderness of my heart, I have taken you between my
hands!
O burden! O sacrifice that I bear in my arms like a sheep whose feet
are bound together!
Shall I call you my child or my brother? For I am more mindful of
you
Than a father would have been of that pallid little face. And my
heart is attached to yours by a stronger and sweeter tie
Than that which binds a brother to his little brother in the nursery
when he plays with him in the evening, and lulls him to sleep with
stories and helps in taking off his shoes.
O my friend that I have found in the gloom, are you going to
abandon me and leave me all alone?
Cébès: O Tête-d'or, as you gave yourself to me
Even so I give myself to you,
And as you did not trust your secret to me,
Neither shall I entrust to you mine.
I am strangely light and like a thing that can no longer be held.
(He kisses him on the cheek.
Good-bye!
And now put me back on my bed.
(Meanwhile the first faint signs of
dawn appear.
Tête-d'or: The day!
Cébès: The chilly violet of dawn
Glances across the distant plains, tinting each track and rut with its
glamor!
And in the silent farms the roosters cry
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
It is the hour when the traveller, huddled among the cushions of his
coach,
Awakes, and peers through the pane, and coughs, and sighs,
And souls new-born in the shadows of walls and forests,
Uttering feeble cries like little naked birds,
Fly back again, guided by flaring meteors, into the regions of
obscurity.
—What is the hour?
Tête-d'or: The night is over.
Cébès: It is over!—And the daybreak that kindles the sea to flame
and with far-reaching fires
Colors the roofs and the towered gateways once again is born.
I feel the freshness of the breeze. Open the window!
(tête-d'or opens it.
(Prolonged silence.
Tête-d'or: Can you hear me?
(Pause, cébès turns his eyes
towards him and faintly smiles.
Tête-d'or: Can you hear me still?
"Put the table under the tree for we shall eat out of doors."—How
beautiful the night is!
O Cébès, everything is hushed and there is no voice to break the
stillness.
And like the smell of the cupboard in which the bread is kept and
like the breath of the oven when the door of it is opened,
There lies before us the plenty of the fields.
It is night. The meadow is thick with harvest and far away one can
almost hear
The swish of the scythe in the lush grass.
Already the fires of the routed stars are paling.
And the nightingale who sings at intervals
When the ascension of the starry heavens above the earth begins....

(He stops.—cébès is dead.

(tête-d'or remains motionless
for an instant, then he lays down
the body, shuddering.
Oh, horrible!
(He sits down.
I am alone. I am cold.
What difference does it make?
Indeed it matters little that he is dead.
Why should we mourn? Why should we be disconcerted by anything
that may happen?
What man of sense would lend himself to such buffoonery?
He who bursts into tears and whose head is bowed with his sobbing
Will pucker his face into the same wrinkles when he is roaring with
laughter. Thus they bawl and contort their mouths. Puppets!
—He is dead and I am alone.—
Am I of stone? The leaves of the trees seem made of cloth or iron
And all outdoors is a painted scene to be looked at or not at one's
pleasure.
And this sun, whose earliest rays formerly made me resound
Like a stone that clangs against bronze, why, let it rise!
I would as soon see the lung of a cow that floats at the door of a
slaughter-house!
Yes, and like an insensible trunk of coral,
I could see my limbs drop from me.
Why should I live? I have no concern with life. I find no pleasure in
existence. This is not good for me!
(He rises.
To-day!
To-day has come and I must show who I am! There is myself to
think of! It must be done!
Alone against them all! I will march forward and I will maim with the
blow of an armored fist the slimy muzzle of bestiality!
I will speak before this assembly of slovens and cowards. And either
I will perish at their hands or I will found my appointed empire!
Hola! Hola! Hola!
(He leans against the wall.
(Tremendous hubbub outside.
Slamming of doors. Calls on the
stairs. Enter a great crowd of
people. Prominent among them
is the tribune of the people.
Three or four women accompany
him. He is surrounded with
people who jostle him and shake
 hands with him. Beside him,
carrying his overcoat, is the go-
between. In the group are the
high prefect, the
schoolmaster, and other public
officials. Also the brother of
the king. Among the others is
the king to whom no one pays
the slightest attention. Those
representing the people are
dumb actors. Enter after
everyone else the man out of
office. He holds himself apart
with three or four ill-dressed
people. No one appears to notice
the presence of tête-d'or,
although all keep a certain
distance away from him.
(The hall is filled in a moment
and through the open door one
can see people crowding the
vestibule and lining the stairs
and climbing on benches to see
better. All talk at once. Noise of
many feet.
The Tribune of the People (speaking and laughing very loudly, in
sudden outbursts): Ah, well, yes, it is I, here I am.—Good morning,
old fellow.—Eh?—Good morning.—Perfectly mad about me, aren't
you! Just can't get along without me! Oh! Oh! Oh!—What's that, my
dear?—Good morning,—Yes, sir!—Don't eat me. There is something
for everyone! Ouf! Good morning!—Make room for me, I am far
from small!
The Man Out of Office (in his group, feverishly): Pig!...
That's right! Go on! Keep it up! Play with your good moment!
Hmmm! We shall see! We shall see!
(He rubs his hands.
What has he done with the funds of the commissariat?
And how about the automatic guns? I shall attack him before the
assembly. We shall see!
Look how he plumes himself! See how he struts among those
nanny-goats!
Someone (of his following, in a low voice): Do you know the story
about him and the wife of the High Prefect? He had set up an
establishment with the wife of the Paymaster-General,
And the other trollop came to join them. Such scenes as they had!
A Citizen (loudly to the tribune of the people): Sir, you have saved
the State!
(He presses his hand.
The Tribune of the People: Don't say that! I love my country,
Sir! (Very loudly) I did not despair of my country!
The people did it all.

The Citizen: All the same I say it was you! You did the organizing!
It isn't the soldiers who win the battles. You did the organizing.
All the Women (together): It is true!
(Nodding of heads.
Murmur (in the crowd, spreading to the stairways): It is true.
 (Uproar outside.
What is that?
The Go-Between (excitedly): The whole city is roused. They are all
clamoring for you. You must speak to them from the balcony.
(He talks to him in a low voice.
(Someone passes a paper to the
tribune of the people. the go-
between reads it over his
shoulder.
Clamor (outside). Jacquot! Jacquot! Jacquot! Jacquot! Jacquot!
Hurrah!
The Tribune of the People: Say that I am going to speak to
them!
(The go-between goes out on
to the balcony. He can be seen
bending over the rail and waving
his arms. The tribune of the
people takes the arm of the
high prefect and walks across
the hall with him, talking and
gesturing.
The Man Out of Office: See them! Not him!
His Excellency the High Prefect! Serious as a tethered ass!
Did you know that he writes verses in secret?
The Tribune of the People (pointing sideways at tête-d'or with
his chin): Eh?
The High Prefect (authoritatively): Don't alarm yourself!
The Tribune of the People: Tell me, Albert....
The High Prefect: Don't alarm yourself. All this is absurd!
He has profited by the....
Shall I say the enervation? in which we were. One does not like that,
once the panic is past.
He has overtaxed the people outrageously!
He is an adventurer,
A fellow picked off the streets! And as haughty as a god!
None are allowed to touch him and if any approach too near,
Men or women, he fetches them a rap on the head with his stick.
The people know their friends.
The Go-Between (making a gesture with his arm): This way!
(The tribune of the people
goes out on the balcony and is
seen speaking in the glow of the
dawn.
(Bursts of applause from time to
time. Uproar in the hall. Groups
form here and there, one of
them around the bed of cébès.
Noise of a breaking pane in the
upper story.
(The go-between speaks
excitedly to the man out of
office and his group.

A Citizen (all alone in the midst of the hall, contemplating the

tribune of the people): What a man! What a bag of wind!
 (The tribune of the people,
smiling, re-enters the hall, and
looking about for the king, he
finds him and leads him out on
to the balcony. He is seen to
speak, patting the king on the
shoulder.
The Go-Between (who stands near the high prefect, glancing
quickly and furtively in all directions, and especially towards tête-
d'or) (to the high prefect in a low voice): What do you think of
him, eh?
The High Prefect: Hmm! He has the army back of him!
(The tribune of the people re-
enters the hall with the king.
(Little by little a silence falls.
Someone (in a low voice): Why are there no lights? The dawn
makes us look hideous.
(The silence has become
complete. All keep their eyes
fixed on tête-d'or.
(Pause.
Someone (near cébès): He is dead.

Tête-d'or (turning towards the assembly): Who says that he is

dead?
Someone: He is paler than any of us and his lips are discolored.
(The crowd recoils, leaving the
king, with his brother beside
 him, in front, opposite tête-
d'or. To the right and behind the
king, the high prefect, the
schoolmaster and the other
officials of the Government, to
the left the tribune of the
people, the man out of office.
A young man, with the group of
women, stands close to tête-
d'or.

Tête-d'or: Is it yet day?

The Young Man: Day?
A Woman: The sun is rising.
Tête-d'or: It rises!
—The pallid morn illumines the mud of the roads, And under the
hedges the cabbage leaves and the flowers
Pour on the tawny earth their burden of rain.
Those who are dead depart, and those who are living
Must stand before the world and confess their o'er burdened souls.
I stand alone and wounded.
The King: This child is dead?
Tête-d'or: He is dead.
(The king drops his head on his
breast.
Yes, that sight is bitterer than sourest herbs! Oh!
I was for him as Athens was for Argos,
Yet I shall bear this also and my patient heart shall not be shaken
For now I must proclaim myself to all.
—O soul, farewell, enter before us into the splendor of Noon!
(Pause.
A Fat Woman (of about fifty standing near tête-d'or, in a loud
voice): Speak, general, what have you to say?
Tête-d'or: What is this woman doing here? Clear the hall of these
females!
Who let loose these mares upon me! Out! Off with you! Begone!
(The women go out.
As for you, I scarcely know who you are or what is the meaning of
this assembly.
O King, is it thus you grant access to your presence?
But it is well. I will speak before this rabble and they shall hear what
I have to say.
(He stands silent, with downcast
eyes.
The Tribune of the People: Speak! What have you to say?
Tête-d'or: You have seen what I have done.
Nevertheless I shall tell it again that you may contradict me.
I say that this land was like an estate without a master, like a
building that robbers themselves have abandoned, taking even the
locks and bolts.
O King! they left you alone in your palace and old women brought
their goats to pasture in your garden.
Everything was piled in a heap, and like cowards, the citizens lifted
their impotent hands in air.
I appeared in the market-place! I appeared in that land made
desolate, bringing the force of hope to a perishing people,
And I spoke with the voice of command. And those who slumbered
Heard, and thrilled at the call of the leader,
Like the blast of the trumpet, like the creating word!
Thus I gathered an army about me. I conceived and I executed.
I hurled the enemy to the ground and tore the sword from his hand.
I killed the lion that sprang upon you to devour you.
That is what I did. Has anyone anything to say?

The King: That is what you did, Tête-d'or.

The Tribune of the People: Well and good. But you didn't do it
alone.

Tête-d'or: I say that I did it all alone,

I alone! I did it! I alone! Not another, but I!
—What will you give me, then, as a proper recompense?
—What will you give me
That you have not received from my hands?
(The high prefect breathes
through his nose as if he wished
to speak.
The Schoolmaster: You only did your duty.
The Tribune of the People: You have only done your duty to
your country.
Tête-d'or: What duty? What country?
Welcome to our website – the perfect destination for book lovers and
knowledge seekers. We believe that every book holds a new world,
offering opportunities for learning, discovery, and personal growth.
That’s why we are dedicated to bringing you a diverse collection of
books, ranging from classic literature and specialized publications to
self-development guides and children's books.

More than just a book-buying platform, we strive to be a bridge

connecting you with timeless cultural and intellectual values. With an
elegant, user-friendly interface and a smart search system, you can
quickly find the books that best suit your interests. Additionally,
our special promotions and home delivery services help you save time
and fully enjoy the joy of reading.

Join us on a journey of knowledge exploration, passion nurturing, and

personal growth every day!

ebookbell.com