Bright Star Page #4

''I have been half in Love with easeful Death

''CaII'd him soft names

in many a mused rhyme''

''...rhyme...''

''To take into the air my quiet breath''

''...breath...''

''To cease upon the midnight with no pain

''While thou art pouring forth

thy soul abroad

''In such an ecstasy!''

What?

Have you told Miss Brawne

of our summer holiday, or shall I?

Not as yet.

Mr. Brown is doing his summer rental,

so we both have to Leave.

We're meeting up on the Isle of Wight

for some undisturbed writing and carousing.

Mrs. Brawne, may I speak to Fanny, please?

No, I will not speak to him.

Fanny, I was going to tell you.

Fanny, I have no money.

In fact, I am in debt.

I must earn. I must write and make a Living.

If I fail, though I hate to think on it,

then I must make way so another may marry

and adore you as I wish to.

No! I will not be adored ever again

by you or by anyone!

I hate you!

Anything?

No. Nothing.

Nothing.

Fanny, will you check my stitch?

It's an open-work seam.

God.

No, Toots. I don't care a damn for stitches!

-No letter?

-Not today.

Am I in Love?

Is this Love?

I shall never tease about it again.

So sore I believe one could die of it.

''My dearest lady,

''I am now at a very pleasant cottage window

''looking onto a beautiful hilly country,

with a view of the sea.

''The morning is very fine.

''I do not know how elastic

my spirit might be,

''what pleasure I might have in living here

''if the remembrance of you

did not weigh so upon me.

''Ask yourself, my love, whether you are

not very cruel to have so entrammelled me,

''so destroyed my freedom.

''For myself, I know not how to express

my devotion to so fair a form.

''I want a brighter word than bright,

a fairer word than fair.

''I almost wish we were butterflies

and lived but three summer days.

''Three such days with you

I could fill with more delight

''than 50 common years could ever contain. ''

I Love you.

I Love you, Toots.

''Will you confess this in a letter

''you must write immediately

and do all you can to console me in it,

''make it rich as a draft of poppies

to intoxicate me,

''write the softest words and kiss them

''that I may at least touch my lips

where yours have been. ''

''My dear Mr. Keats, thank you for your letter.

''Lately I have felt so nervous and ill

that I had to stay five days in bed.

''Having received your letter, I am up again,

walking our paths on the heath.

''I've begun a butterfly farm

in my bedroom in honor of us.

''Sammy and Toots are catching them for me.

''Samuel has made a science of it

''and is collecting both caterpillars

and chrysalises

''so we may have them fluttering about us

a week or more. ''

''I have two luxuries

to brood over in my walks,

''your loveliness and the hour of my death.

''O that I could have possession of them

both in the same minute. ''

''I never knew before what such a love

as you have made me feel was.

''I did not believe in it.

''But if you will fully love me,

though there may be some fire,

''it will not be more

than we can bear when moistened

-''and bedewed with pleasures. ''

-''Bedewed with pleasures.''

''Bedewed with pleasures.''

-There's no air.

-No, Mama, they Love the heat.

We're going to lose them.

Listen, ''I Love you more in that I believe

you've Liked me for my own sake.

''I have met with women whom I really think

would Like to be married to a poem,

''to be given away by a novel.''

Mama, don't be cross.

When I don't hear from him,

it's as if I've died,

as if the air is sucked out from my lungs

and I am Left desolate,

but when I receive a Letter,

I know our world is real.

It's the one I care for.

Watch the butterfly.

Well, move it.

-Fanny wants a knife.

-What for?

To kill herself.

It's all over.

I have such a short letter after all this time.

No, Topper!

Saying he was in London, in London,

and couldnt bring himself to visit

for fear it would burn him up!

He's made no fortune and is ashamed of it.

If only he knew how Little I, even you,

care for that now.

You missed that one.

-Hello.

-Hello.

Mama asked me to welcome you home

and introduce you to Miss O'Donoghue,

our new maid who may also do for you.

Please, sir, call me Abigail or Abby.

Very well. Be sure you do not enter

if the door is closed.

Yes, sir.

Mr. Keats is not coming back.

He has gone to Live in London.

Please tell Mr. Keats that we Brawnes

have kept safe all his things.

Mr. Brown has said that

I could learn to read still.

I said to him, ''Sure, what would I read?''

And he said, ''Abigail, even the Bible

is not so dull as you might believe.''

And that in the Songs of Solomon,

there are some bits so juicy,

they'd make even a churchman blush.

And he said that when I get down

to the reading myself,

I'II see he tells not one word of a lie.

Hello, Toots.

Hello, Mr. Keats.

Hello, Miss Brawne.

Mother? We found it.

Fanny had the key, Like I thought.

What do you need for London?

Your vest has no lining.

And your coat

has a small hole.

I could mend it so you wouldnt see it.

''My sweet girl,

I am living today in yesterday.

''I was in a complete fascination all day.

''I feel myself at your mercy.

''Write me ever so few lines and tell me

''you will never forever be less kind to me

than yesterday.

''You dazzled me.

''There is nothing in the world

so bright and delicate.

''You have absorbed me.

''I have a sensation at the present moment

as if I was dissolving. ''

Fanny, Mrs. Dilke is telling me that

Mr. Keats is proposing

to move in next door again,

and she wants to know

if I have any objections.

Of course you don't.

Mr. Brown is Mr. Keats' best friend.

Why would we object?

Fanny, Mr. Dilke and I are worried

that such close connection

may prove restrictive for you.

No.

Mr. Keats can't afford to marry.

His situation is really quite hopeless,

and if he is next door,

how will you meet anyone else?

How will you go to dances?

But you are engaged?

It's his mother's ring.

It's not an engagement ring.

You were not to wear it.

I wear it on the finger next door.

Do not even discuss it.

You taught me to Love. You never said

only the rich, only a thimbleful.

Attachment is such a difficult thing to undo.

''Pillowed upon

my fair love's ripening breast

''To feel forever its soft swell and fall

''Awake forever in a sweet unrest

''Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath''

That's new.

From which poem?

Yours.

''Bright star,

''would I were steadfast as thou art

''Not in Ione splendor hung aloft the night''

Why do you say ''not''?

''Not in Ione splendor''?

You fear I am not steadfast because

I oblige Mama by going to a dance?

Don't tease, Fanny.

Why are you Laughing?

I shall tell her I am unwell.

No, go.

Go.

Go.

Good Irish Abigail,

who never did fail to make a scone

as good as a swan.

Would you Like some jam with that, sir?

Please.

Delicious.

Fanny! Come in. It's turned cold.

Mr. Keats has gone to London with no coat.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes