| «Be my kin free fro carnal sin
|
| Bridle the thoughts of thy Master.»
|
| «There hath past away a glore fro the Earth
|
| A glore that in the hearts and minds of men
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| Men demented, blindfolded by light
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| Nourisheth as weed in their well-groom'd garths.»
|
| «Might I too was blindfolded ere, The quality of mercy and absolution
|
| Tho' years have master’d me, Whence cometh such qualities?
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| A masque of this to fashion: Build thyself a mirror in which
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| Seer blest, thou best philosopher!
|
| «Solely wanton images of thy desire appear!»
|
| «'Tis the Divine Comedy «'Tis the Divine Tragedy
|
| The fool and the mocking court; |
| The fool and the mocking court
|
| Fool, kneel now, and ring thy bells! |
| Fool, kneel now, and ring thy bells!
|
| We hold the Earth fro Heaven away.»
|
| Make us guffaw at thy futile follies
|
| Yet for our blunders — Oh, in shame
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| Earth beareth no balm for mistakes
|
| We hold the Earth fro Hell away.»
|
| [Prospero: That cross you wear around your neck
|
| Is it only a decoration
|
| Or are you a true Christian believer?
|
| Francesca: Yes, I believe, truly
|
| Prospero: Then I want you to remove it at once!
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| And never to wear it within this castle again!
|
| Do you know how a falcon is trained my dear?
|
| Her eyes are sown shut
|
| Blinded temporarily she suffers the whims of her God patiently
|
| Until her will is submerged and she learns to serve
|
| As your God taught and blinded you with crosses
|
| Francesca: You had me take off my cross because it offended…
|
| Prospero: It offended no one
|
| No, it simply appears to me to be discourteous to…
|
| To wear the symbol of a deity long dead
|
| My ancestors tried to find it
|
| And to open the door that separates us from our Creator
|
| Francesca: But you need no doors to find God. |
| If you believe…
|
| Prospero: Believe?
|
| If you believe you are gullible
|
| Can you look around this world and believe in the goodness of a god who rules
|
| it?
|
| Famine, Pestilence, War, Disease and Death!
|
| They rule this world
|
| Francesca: There is also love and life and hope
|
| Prospero: Very little hope I a**ure you
|
| No
|
| If a god of love and life ever did exist…
|
| He is long since dead
|
| Someone… something, rules in his place]
|
| «Believe? |
| In a deity long dead?
|
| I would rather be a pagan suckled in creeds outworn
|
| Whith fairytales fill’d up in head
|
| Thoughts of the Book stillborn.»
|
| «Shadow of annoyance
|
| Ne’er come hither!
|
| …And when He falleth, He falleth like Lucifer
|
| Ne’er to ascend again…» |