In my thoughts I have called for a feast; shall I too in waking ( Read more... )

The hart, the hart-- 'tis well, seems it, and not so well indeed that on th' heels of last we hunted, good Curio's return'd. When brought we out our party, 'twas in battle with surfeit of boredom, of idleness-- when now could it be none but celebratory, for what small court I kept is reunited ( Read more... )

*is lounging rather comfortably in a large chair, somewhere where he is easily seen yet not so easily disturbed without the intent of interaction; he has arranged himself into the perfect picture of a relaxing man-- no, of a relaxing Duke, handsome, bored, just waiting for something to catch his fancy ( Read more... )

Viola, my love? If you would walk with me this eve, there is something I would like to show you.

( And later that evening, by the side of the sea, he will show her this: )

*he's in love with love-- that much is obvious-- but love is painful, isn't it? and that's what he's contemplating now, the pain that his love brings him; he knows it well, this pain, after so many years--*

*he sighs, a heavy, heartfelt sigh*