Bright Star Page #3

Was it so very bad?

''No man could have profaned and vulgarized

''every association in the manner which has

been adopted by this 'son of promise.'''

Did they not admire the opening?

It was perfect. Even I could know that.

-Do you Like poetry, Miss Brawne?

-No.

Poems are a strain to work out.

John, we are talking, or are about to talk,

of your defense

of Mr. Keats' poem Endymion.

Yes.

''I have clung

To nothing, lov'd a nothing, nothing seen

''Or felt but a great dream! O I have been

''Presumptuous against Love

against the sky

''Against all elements, against the tie

Of mortals each to each''

The rhythm is beautiful and unique.

There are rhymes, but not on the beat.

They're quiet, but binding.

And the repetitions set you up to fly.

''I have clung

To nothing, lovd a nothing, nothing seen''

And here you come out

''Or felt but a great dream!''

It's beautiful.

Well, there are immaturities,

but there are also immensities,

and that is what they didn't say.

It was said. You said it, Brother.

Thank you.

Very bravely.

Ladies, the Hampstead Heathens

are about to begin.

-Reynolds?

-I thought I'd been expelled.

No. I think not. You're very much needed.

Mr. Keats is dead.

Mr. Keats is dead. So young.

Is it Tom?

I woke with the strange sensation

of someone holding my hand.

I opened my eyes, and there was John.

I knew immediately what had happened,

and then he said,

''Tom died at 8:
00, quietly and without pain.''

Of course, he can't go on living there,

so I have invited Mr. Keats

to come and stay with me.

Well, we do have a Long schedule of visits.

I don't want to interfere with your city plans,

but you are most welcome

to have dinner with us.

-Minx? Are you unwell?

-We have provided and set the table.

No, no, no, not at all.

-I've never seen you so quiet.

-I would appreciate it.

We do have some city business.

She sewed it all night Long.

It's a pillow slip.

Then I will rest Tom's head upon it.

Keats, the Reynolds are expecting us.

I'II catch you up. Thank you.

Invite me again, alone.

Come for Christmas.

Yes, please do join us, Mr. Keats, please.

But Marianne Reynolds invited us

for Christmas. Remember?

You were there when she said it.

They're having musicians.

I am sorry to spoil things.

Not at all. Wherever Mr. Keats is happy,

we're happy for him.

-Thank you, Mrs. Brawne.

-But why can't he be happy with us?

Perhaps Mr. Brown wants

Mr. Keats all to himself.

I am merely remembering to Mr. Keats

a previous engagement.

Miss Brawne, I thought we were conversing.

''Dear Mrs. Brawne.

May I yet join you for Christmas?

''I have not the health

nor the heart to be anywhere

''but with a family such as your own.

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