Cymbeline Page #3

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and a daughter

who he not respects at all.

Give me your pardon.

I... I spoke this to know

if your affiance were deeply rooted,

and shall make your Lord

that which he is, new o'er.

He is...

one of the truest mannered, he...

Such a holy witch

as might enchants societies unto him.

Half all men's hearts are his.

He sits among men like a descended God.

He hath a... a kind of honor about him,

sets him off more than a mortal seeming.

Be not angry, most mighty princess,

that I have adventured

your taking of a false report.

The love I bear him

made me to fan you thus.

But the gods made you,

unlike all the others.

Pray, your pardon.

All's well, sir.

Take my power in the court of yours.

I had but...

I almost forgot...

What is it?

Some dozen of us and your Lord,

the best feather in our wing,

have mingled sums to buy a present.

And I am somewhat curious

to have safe storage.

May it please you

to take it in protection?

For this night only.

I must aboard tomorrow.

Willingly.

Oh, the gentlemen are talking

And the midnight moon

is on the riverside

They're drinking up

And walking

And it is time

For me to slide

I live in another world

Where life and death are memorized

Where the earth is strung

With lovers' pearls

And all I see

Are dark eyes

I do not like her.

She doth think she has strange,

lingering poisons.

I do know her spirit, and will not trust

one of her malice.

With a drug of such damned nature.

But I feel nothing

For their game

Where beauty goes unrecognized

All I feel is heat and flame

And all I see

Are dark eyes

The French girl, she's in paradise

And a drunken man is at the wheel

Hunger pays

A heavy price

To the fallen gods

Of speed and steel

The time is short

And the days are sweet

And passion rules

The arrow that flies

A million faces

At my feet

But all I see

Are dark

Eyes

The crickets sing,

and man's over-labored sense

repairs itself by rest.

Our tarquin thus

did softly press the rushes,

ere he wakened

the chastity he wounded.

How bravely thou becomest

thy bed, fresh lily,

and whiter than the sheets,

that I might touch.

But kiss; one kiss.

Mmm...

But my design,

come off... come off...

On her left breast,

a mole cinque-spotted,

like the crimson drops

in the bottom of a cowslip:

Here's a voucher,

stronger than ever law could make:

This secret will force him

think I have pick'd the lock

and taken the treasure.

No more.

To what end?

I have enough.

I live in fear.

Though this a heavenly angel...

Hell is here.

I do think I saw it this morning.

Confident I am.

Last night 'twas on mine arm.

I kissed it.

Twill not be lost.

Good morrow, fairest...

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