Word: scabbard
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Goldman, who adapted the screenplay from his 1966 Broadway drama, can hardly be blamed for that, but he does not even seem to know who the real James Goldman is. Sometimes he seems to be a swaggering Elizabethan playwright whose rhetorical sword never gets out of its scabbard. "The sky is pocked with stars," sighs Henry. "Has my willow turned to poison oak?" he inquires of his mistress. At other times, Goldman is an anachronistic historian. "It's 1183, and we're all barbarians," announces the Queen, Eleanor of Aquitaine (Katharine Hepburn). Often Goldman is simply...
...feel ten feet tall. His sometime pals, a French playboy and a White Russian con man, are not far behind in their technique: one of them receives a gold cigarette case from a female admirer inscribed delicately: 'To the world's greatest swordsman from his most grateful scabbard...
...number. For a long while now, the University Marshal has officially opened Commencement with the call, "Mr. Sheriff, pray give us order," which follows the end of the procession. The Sheriff of Middlesex will then rise in his blue colonial garb, strike the stage three times with the scabbard of his sword and announce in a sharp Boston accent, "The meeting will be in order...
...number. For a long while now, the University Marshall has officially opened Commencement with the call, "Mr. Sheriff, pray give us order," which follows the end of the procession. The Sheriff of Middlesex will then rise in his blue colonial garb, strike the stage three times with the scabbard of his sword and announce in a sharp Boston accent, "The meeting will be in order...
...would rise from the piano to perform his Monkish dance. It is always the same. His feet stir in a soft shuffle, spinning him slowly in small circles. His head rolls back until hat brim meets collar, while with both hands he twists his goatee into a sharp black scabbard. His eyes are hooded with an abstract sleepiness, his lips are pursed in a meditative O. His cultists may crowd the room, but when he moves among them, no one risks speaking: he is absorbed in a fragile trance, and his three sidemen play on while he dances alone...