Shocking Pink (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} fionnghuala) wrote, |
Mybug: Let me warn you: I'm a queer, moody brute, but there's rich soil in here if you care to dig for it.
Mybug: We met in London.
Amos Starkadder: Aye, the Devil's city. The stinking pit of whoredom.
Mrs. Smiling [played by Joanna Lumley looking flapper fabulous, but I think a bit too old, detracts from the misplacedness of how snooty she is...]: In fact, when poetry is combined with ill-groomed hair and eccentric dress, it's generally fatal [for attracting a man]. You're very lucky, Elfine. He must have seen your finer points.
And the jewel in the crown:
Amos Starkadder: Ye miserable, crawlin' worms. Are ye here again then? Have ye come like Nimshi, son of Rehoboam, secretly out of your doomed houses, to hear what's comin' to ye? Have ye come, old and young, sick and well, matrons and virgins, if there be any virgins amongst you, which is not likely, the world being in the wicked state that it is. Have ye come to hear me tell you of the great, crimson, licking flames of hell fire? Aye! You've come, dozens of ye. Like rats to the granary, like field mice when it's harvest home. And what good will it do ye? You're all damned! Damned! Do you ever stop to think what that word means? No, you don't. It means endless, horrifying torment! It means your poor, sinful bodies stretched out on red-hot gridirons, in the nethermost, fiery pit of hell and those demons mocking ye while they waves cooling jellies in front of ye. You know what it's like when you burn your hand, taking a cake out of the oven, or lighting one of them godless cigarettes? And it stings with a fearful pain, aye? And you run to clap a bit of butter on it to take the pain away, aye? Well, I'll tell ye, there'll be no butter in hell!
Mybug: We met in London.
Amos Starkadder: Aye, the Devil's city. The stinking pit of whoredom.
Mrs. Smiling [played by Joanna Lumley looking flapper fabulous, but I think a bit too old, detracts from the misplacedness of how snooty she is...]: In fact, when poetry is combined with ill-groomed hair and eccentric dress, it's generally fatal [for attracting a man]. You're very lucky, Elfine. He must have seen your finer points.
And the jewel in the crown:
Amos Starkadder: Ye miserable, crawlin' worms. Are ye here again then? Have ye come like Nimshi, son of Rehoboam, secretly out of your doomed houses, to hear what's comin' to ye? Have ye come, old and young, sick and well, matrons and virgins, if there be any virgins amongst you, which is not likely, the world being in the wicked state that it is. Have ye come to hear me tell you of the great, crimson, licking flames of hell fire? Aye! You've come, dozens of ye. Like rats to the granary, like field mice when it's harvest home. And what good will it do ye? You're all damned! Damned! Do you ever stop to think what that word means? No, you don't. It means endless, horrifying torment! It means your poor, sinful bodies stretched out on red-hot gridirons, in the nethermost, fiery pit of hell and those demons mocking ye while they waves cooling jellies in front of ye. You know what it's like when you burn your hand, taking a cake out of the oven, or lighting one of them godless cigarettes? And it stings with a fearful pain, aye? And you run to clap a bit of butter on it to take the pain away, aye? Well, I'll tell ye, there'll be no butter in hell!
