Chapter 13:
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PURPLE
What had he done, to make him fly the land?
RED
You must have patience, madam.
PURPLE
He had none:
His flight was madness: when our actions do not,
Our fears do make us seem like impostors.
RED
You know not
Whether it was his wisdom or his sus.
PURPLE
Wisdom! to leave his crewmates, to leave his brothers,
His ship and his titles in a place
From whence himself does fly? He loves us not, he sissy us not;
He wants the natural touch: for the poor wren,
The most diminutive of birds, will fight,
Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
All is the sus and nothing is the love;
As little is the wisdom, where the flight
So runs against all reason.
RED
My dearest coz,
I pray you, school yourself: but for your husband,
He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows
The fits o' the season. I dare not speak
much further;
But cruel are the times, when we are like impostors
And do not know ourselves, when we hold rumour
From what we fear, yet know not what we fear,
But float upon a wild and violent sea
Each way and move. I take my leave of you:
Shall not be long but I'll be here again:
Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward
To what they were before. My pretty purple,
Blessing upon you!
PURPLE
Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless.
RED
I am so much a fool, should I stay longer,
It would be my disgrace and your discomfort:
I take my leave at once.
Exit
PURPLE
Little me, your father's dead;
And what will you do now? How will you live?
Little PURPLE
As birds do, mother.
PURPLE
What, with worms and flies?
Little PURPLE
With what I get, I mean; and so do they.
PURPLE
Poor bird! thou'ldst never fear the net nor lime,
The pitfall nor the gin.
Little PURPLE
Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for.
My father is not dead, for all your saying.
PURPLE
Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father?
Little PURPLE
Nay, how will you do for a husband?
PURPLE
Why, I can buy me twenty at any market.
Little PURPLE
Then you'll buy 'em to sell again.
PURPLE
Thou speak'st with all thy wit: and yet, i' faith,
With wit enough for thee.
Little PURPLE
Was my father a traitor, and impostor of sorts, mother?
PURPLE
Ay, that he was.
Little PURPLE
What is an impostor?
PURPLE
Why, one that swears and lies.
Little PURPLE
And be all impostors that do so?
PURPLE
Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be ejected.
Little PURPLE
And must they all be hanged that swear and lie?
PURPLE
Everyone.
Little PURPLE
Who must hang them?
PURPLE
Why, the honest crewmates.
Little PURPLE
Then the liars and swearers are fools,
for there are liars and swearers enow to beat
the honest men and hang up them.
PURPLE
Now, God help thee, poor monkey!
But how wilt thou do for a father?
Little PURPLE
If he were dead, you'ld weep for
him: if you would not, it were a good sign
that I should quickly have a new father.
PURPLE
Poor prattler, how thou talk'st!
Enter a Messenger
Comms
Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known,
Though in your state of honour I am perfect.
I doubt some danger does approach you nearly:
If you will take a homely man's advice,
Be not found here; hence, with your little ones.
To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage;
To do worse to you were fell cruelty,
Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you!
I dare abide no longer.
Exit
PURPLE
Whither should I fly?
I have done no harm. But I remember now
I am in this earthly world; where to do harm
Is often laudable, to do good sometime
Accounted dangerous folly: why then, alas,
Do I put up that womanly defence,
To say I have done no harm?
Enter Importer
What are these faces?
Impostor
Where is your husband?
PURPLE
I hope, in no place so unsanctified
Where such as thou mayst find him.
Imposter
He's a traitor.
Little PURPLE
Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain! You are the impostor.
Imposter
What, you egg!
Stabbing him
Young fry of treachery! You are swine you vulgar little maggot. Don't you know that you are pathetic? You worthless bag of filth. As we say on earth, I'll bet you couldn't pour piss out of a boot with instructions on the heel. You are a canker. A sore that won't go away. A zit on the bosom of society. I would rather kiss a lawyer than be seen with you.
You are a fiend and a coward, you have bad breath. You degenerate, noxious and depraved. I feel debased just for knowing of your existence. I despise everything about you. You bloody nardless newbie twit protohominid chromosomally aberrant caricature of a coprophagic cloacal parasitic pond scum and I wish you would go away.
You're a putrescence mass, walking vomit. You spineless little worm deserving nothing but the profoundest contempt. You are a jerk, cad, weasel. Your life is a monument to stupidity. You stench, a revulsion, a big suck on a sour lemon.
You are a bleating fool, a curdled staggering mutant dwarf smeared richly with the effluvia and offal accompanying your alleged birth into this world. An insensate, blinking calf, meaningful to nobody, abandoned by the puke-drooling, giggling beasts who sired you and then killed themselves in recognition of what they had done.
I will never get over the embarrassment of belonging to the same species as you. You are a monster, an ogre, a malformity. I barf at the very thought of you. You have all the appeal of a paper cut. Lepers avoid you. Because off your face the rabbit population actually decreased. You are vile, worthless, less than nothing. You are a weed, a fungus, the dregs of this earth. And did I mention you smell?
If you aren't an idiot, you made a world-class effort at simulating one.
You snail-skulled little rabbit. Would that a hawk pick you up, drive its beak into your brain, and upon finding it rancid set you loose to fly briefly before spattering the ocean rocks with the frothy purple shame of your ignoble blood. May you choke on the queasy, convulsing nausea of your own trite, foolish beliefs.
You are weary, stale, flat and unprofitable. You are grimy, squalid, nasty and profane. You are foul and disgusting. You're a fool, an ignoramus. Monkeys look down on you. You are unreservedly pathetic, starved for attention, and lost in a land that reality forgot.
You are a waste of flesh. You have no rhythm. You are ridiculous and obnoxious. You are the moral equivalent of a leech. You are a living emptiness, a meaningless void. You are sour and senile. You are a disease, you puerile one-handed slack-jawed drooling meatslapper.
On a good day you're a half-wit. You remind me of drool. You are deficient in all that lends character. You have the personality of wallpaper. You are dank and filthy. You are asinine and benighted. You are the source of all unpleasantness. You spread misery and sorrow wherever you go.
I cannot believe how incredibly stupid you are. I mean rock-hard stupid. Dehydrated-rock-hard stupid. Stupid so stupid that it goes way beyond the stupid we know into a whole different dimension of stupid. You are trans-stupid stupid. Meta-stupid. Stupid collapsed on itself so far that even the neutrons have collapsed. Stupid gotten so dense that no intellect can escape. Singularity stupid. Blazing hot mid-day sun on Mercury stupid. You emit more stupid in one second than our entire galaxy emits in a year. Quasar stupid. Your writing has to be a troll. Nothing in our universe can really be this stupid. Perhaps this is some primordial fragment from the original big bang of stupid. Some pure essence of a stupid so uncontaminated by anything else as to be beyond the laws of physics that we know. I'm sorry. I can't go on. This is an epiphany of stupid for me. After this, you may not hear from me again for a while. I don't have enough strength left to deride your ignorant questions and half baked comments about unimportant trivia, or any of the rest of this drivel. Duh.
Maybe later in life, after you have learned to read, write, spell, and count, you will have more success. True, these are rudimentary skills that many of us "normal" people take for granted that everyone has an easy time of mastering. But we sometimes forget that there are "challenged" persons in this world who find these things more difficult. I wish you the best of luck in the emotional, and social struggles that seem to be placing such a demand on you.
P.S.: You are hypocritical, greedy, violent, malevolent, vengeful, cowardly, deadly, mendacious, meretricious, loathsome, despicable, belligerent, opportunistic, barratrous, contemptible, criminal, fascistic, bigoted, racist, sexist, avaricious, tasteless, idiotic, brain-damaged, imbecilic, insane, arrogant, deceitful, demented, lame, self-righteous, byzantine, conspiratorial, satanic, fraudulent, libelous, bilious, splenetic, spastic, ignorant, clueless, illegitimate, harmful, destructive, dumb, evasive, double-talking, devious, revisionist, narrow, manipulative, paternalistic, fundamentalist, dogmatic, idolatrous, unethical, cultic, diseased, suppressive, controlling, restrictive, malignant, deceptive, dim, crazy, weird, dystopic, stifling, uncaring, plantigrade, grim, unsympathetic, jargon-spouting, censorious, secretive, aggressive, mind-numbing, arassive, poisonous, flagrant, self-destructive, abusive, socially-retarded, puerile, clueless, and generally Not Good.
Little PURPLE
He has kill'd me, purple:
Run away, I pray you!
Dies
Exit PURPLE, crying 'Murder!' Exeunt impostors, following her
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