No, I don't... do that. I mean - I got a number one. She lives here, with me. But she's not - we're not... She doesn't do, like, settling down. You know? Or... Maybe you don't. What I'm saying is, I'm not somebody anyone would marry.
[ A 'number one'. Anne actually looks mildly offended by the bluntness of the wording... No matter how many mistresses he has, that's a little crass, but there are stupid words and phrases she's learning every day from future people. Especially Jesse. ]
You mean you have not sought out a lady to marry. You are more than eligible with your esteemed work and status alone, and you also suffer the burden of beauty. I cannot imagine many would turn down an offer of marriage.
[ So she wants to go be a whore? Well, all the power to her... It's not like Anne wasn't having her own dalliance before she had to end it because of Henry, although she did want to end up married and esteemed. Does. ]
She is lucky to have it. Women would not be...so free and yet so well treated in my time. But it saddens me that she wishes to be free while you wish to have her.
[ She'd tell him to stop being dumb and move on, or amp up the romance to lure her in, but Anne's not privy enough to the situation to begin lecturing on love lives. Well she can try to cheer him up. ]
[Jesse tries to imagine what Anne would think of Lisbeth if she met her, but he can't. It'd be more shocking than what he's able to describe, that's all he knows.
But he shakes his head, trying to reassure her while she's reassuring him:]
I'm okay. Really. I don't think anything more than this would be good for me, anyway. I'm bad at all of it. I mean, not the sex, but the rest of it.
[ His phrasing confuses her, wondering how he means not bad at the sex (gender, of course). Not bad with women, but with the...rest of it? How is that, now? ]
Whyfor would you think yourself a poor election for a grander love?
[ She squints at him for a moment, then suddenly looks away, her fingertips resting against her chin while she lets the thoughts pass through her head. There is guilt, and that is why she hides her face for just that second. It isn't as if Anne has had plans to use him...but she must agree she isn't overly impressed with his higher intelligence. He is not her usual game, and it isn't only for the medicine. She could have kept it a business relationship and still benefited.
Still, they are of different worlds. It's something she never would forget, and status is something she must continue to seek for her own survival. ]
You must not... You must not see yourself in the same way as I, but I suppose I can make no great claims of your person when we have known one another in so little time. But I must say you have a high aptitude if you are able to make such quality medicine, and for the people en masse no less.
[ Anne looks back, having a handle enough to smile, and she reaches for one of his hands to take in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. ]
But in such a short stretch, I can say I have witnessed more sincerity in action and good grace than anyone I have known in my life. You are earnest, and giving, and yet you expect no goodness in return, do you? What do you see when you look at the world, Jesse?
[Jesse gives a slight shake of his head, not really sure how to answer. He grasps her hand in return, staring down at it so he doesn't have to look her in the eye.]
I've been... outside the world. For a long time. I don't even know how I got there, it's just like... I forget what it's like, living the way everybody else does. I was alone before I got here, you know? It didn't used to be like that, but it happened. And I didn't notice it happen 'til it was done. And then there wasn't anything to do about it. It was like the rest of the world left me behind and I didn't know how to catch up with it again.
But there's a reason that happens, right? Karma, they call it. Or God. God's punishment. People who deserve to be loved, there's gonna be someone there for them. God's there for them, right? Even if nobody else is. But I lost... all of it. Or I guess - I gave it up. That connection.
See, you think I'm good and all that, but I'm not. I'm stupid and worthless and selfish and I hurt people. People walk away from me because that's the smart thing to do. I'm not sad about that. I'm okay with being used up, see, because that's the closest it gets to feeling how it used to feel. Giving myself up to people, helping people... That's the closest somebody like me can get to love or being part of the world at all. I'll never get to where I used to be again. But it's okay. This way, nobody gets hurt.
[ Oh yes God is vengeful, but she thinks his information is skewed to think so lowly of himself and what he deserves in the Lord's eyes. But she was speaking truth in saying it's difficult to judge when she hasn't known him for long.
But it doesn't seem necessary, either, when his sincerity is written all over his face. In his eyes. Maybe that is what draws her to him, as he does lack many qualities she often seeks in men, or friends alone. If not for such a heart that sounds to her to be bruised, she might have thought of him nothing more than a possible pawn to think fondly of. ]
Do you remember what I told you, hm? That I would take it open myself to offer you the care and warmth you so dearly need, no matter your claims of inferiority. I knew this before you told me. The looking glass you see yourself in is clouded, my dear, and so covered in cracks that you cannot truly look at yourself. But it is not broken, that I can claim for myself.
[ Taking his hand, she draws it to her breast to rest there over the top of her bodice, allowing enough skin to be touched so that he can feel her heart beat. In turn she leans closer to rest her other hand against his chest, needing to push somewhat to her knees. Skirts everywhere! ]
Ah, see? Your heart is still warm, and still beating, the same as mine. You are still Man, as I am Woman. And so you are still capable of knowing love, and forgiveness. If you have accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as your savior, then you must remember it is not for you to say what Almighty God's judgment will be, for he will be just. Whatever your fate, you are to leave it in His hands, and be at peace for it.
It has not to do with want, Jesse... It is His judgment, and none others. But to seek to do good, you must also seek to better yourself. This is your redemption, and your greatest challenge. The more you offer your love, the more you will in turn receive.
[ He really is such a puppy. Not very masculine, even Thomas Wyatt was of sturdier stuff, but enough to make her feel shock at seeing the tears in his eyes. For a man to cry...in front of a woman, well, that is not so common, and she isn't sure at first how to react, but it's easy enough to think what she might do for her brother or sister... Has she really no other friends to feel as close to?
Anne releases his hand, and moves to rest hers against the back of his shoulder in an attempt to offer a soothing hand, murmuring a bit softer in latin, as if saying a prayer. ]
Frater non redimit, redimet homo: non dabit Deo placationem suam. Et pretium redemptionis animæ suæ: et laborabit in æternum, et vivet adhuc in finem.
[Jesse doesn't know what she's saying, but he does assume it's a prayer, so he keeps his arguments to himself and doesn't interrupt. Anyway, she won't understand unless he tells her everything, and he can't. He's sure that if he did, she would agree there's no hope for him and that Hell is where he belongs.
Nevertheless, he doesn't reject the affection. He leans into her, shutting his eyes for a moment to try and steel himself. It is embarrassing that he's crying in front of her, even if he's doing it silently.]
[ It isn't actually a prayer, but just another verse for guidance. How is she to know that he doesn't understand latin? Still, she leaves it at that for the moment, pulling him closer when he leans until Anne can hold his head to her breast. Her fingernails run gently along the back of his head, the hair too short to really muss, then again as she does her best to stay calm for his benefit; bereft of words for his pride's sake.
She'll eventually, tenderly, move her hand back to his shoulder to guide him downward so that he can rest his head in her lap, where she can pet him (isn't that what it is?). She's now able to continue along the back of his neck with her fingertips just underneath the collar of his shirt, then across his shoulder-blade and along his arm, to his wrist. Then again, and again, her soft breaths soon defaulting into the soft hum of an old French melody she recalls. ]
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Is your wife here, or have you none?
[ Can't imagine any wife letting a place look this cluttered. ]
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You mean you have not sought out a lady to marry. You are more than eligible with your esteemed work and status alone, and you also suffer the burden of beauty. I cannot imagine many would turn down an offer of marriage.
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I'd marry her in a heartbeat if I could.
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Are you not courting her proper?
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That's not the problem.
[...because he bought her a mansion once.]
I mean - It's not a problem. It's just how she is. She wants to be free.
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She is lucky to have it. Women would not be...so free and yet so well treated in my time. But it saddens me that she wishes to be free while you wish to have her.
[ She'd tell him to stop being dumb and move on, or amp up the romance to lure her in, but Anne's not privy enough to the situation to begin lecturing on love lives. Well she can try to cheer him up. ]
You may still find your Guinevere.
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But he shakes his head, trying to reassure her while she's reassuring him:]
I'm okay. Really. I don't think anything more than this would be good for me, anyway. I'm bad at all of it. I mean, not the sex, but the rest of it.
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Whyfor would you think yourself a poor election for a grander love?
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I, um... It's just how it is, you know? People only want me for a little while. Then they move on. Find somebody better. Smarter.
[...Less insane and homicidal.]
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Still, they are of different worlds. It's something she never would forget, and status is something she must continue to seek for her own survival. ]
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[ Anne looks back, having a handle enough to smile, and she reaches for one of his hands to take in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. ]
But in such a short stretch, I can say I have witnessed more sincerity in action and good grace than anyone I have known in my life. You are earnest, and giving, and yet you expect no goodness in return, do you? What do you see when you look at the world, Jesse?
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I've been... outside the world. For a long time. I don't even know how I got there, it's just like... I forget what it's like, living the way everybody else does. I was alone before I got here, you know? It didn't used to be like that, but it happened. And I didn't notice it happen 'til it was done. And then there wasn't anything to do about it. It was like the rest of the world left me behind and I didn't know how to catch up with it again.
But there's a reason that happens, right? Karma, they call it. Or God. God's punishment. People who deserve to be loved, there's gonna be someone there for them. God's there for them, right? Even if nobody else is. But I lost... all of it. Or I guess - I gave it up. That connection.
See, you think I'm good and all that, but I'm not. I'm stupid and worthless and selfish and I hurt people. People walk away from me because that's the smart thing to do. I'm not sad about that. I'm okay with being used up, see, because that's the closest it gets to feeling how it used to feel. Giving myself up to people, helping people... That's the closest somebody like me can get to love or being part of the world at all. I'll never get to where I used to be again. But it's okay. This way, nobody gets hurt.
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But it doesn't seem necessary, either, when his sincerity is written all over his face. In his eyes. Maybe that is what draws her to him, as he does lack many qualities she often seeks in men, or friends alone. If not for such a heart that sounds to her to be bruised, she might have thought of him nothing more than a possible pawn to think fondly of. ]
Do you remember what I told you, hm? That I would take it open myself to offer you the care and warmth you so dearly need, no matter your claims of inferiority. I knew this before you told me. The looking glass you see yourself in is clouded, my dear, and so covered in cracks that you cannot truly look at yourself. But it is not broken, that I can claim for myself.
[ Taking his hand, she draws it to her breast to rest there over the top of her bodice, allowing enough skin to be touched so that he can feel her heart beat. In turn she leans closer to rest her other hand against his chest, needing to push somewhat to her knees. Skirts everywhere! ]
Ah, see? Your heart is still warm, and still beating, the same as mine. You are still Man, as I am Woman. And so you are still capable of knowing love, and forgiveness. If you have accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as your savior, then you must remember it is not for you to say what Almighty God's judgment will be, for he will be just. Whatever your fate, you are to leave it in His hands, and be at peace for it.
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I don't wanna be forgiven. I just wanna make things better.
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[ He really is such a puppy. Not very masculine, even Thomas Wyatt was of sturdier stuff, but enough to make her feel shock at seeing the tears in his eyes. For a man to cry...in front of a woman, well, that is not so common, and she isn't sure at first how to react, but it's easy enough to think what she might do for her brother or sister... Has she really no other friends to feel as close to?
Anne releases his hand, and moves to rest hers against the back of his shoulder in an attempt to offer a soothing hand, murmuring a bit softer in latin, as if saying a prayer. ]
Frater non redimit, redimet homo: non dabit Deo placationem suam. Et pretium redemptionis animæ suæ: et laborabit in æternum, et vivet adhuc in finem.
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Nevertheless, he doesn't reject the affection. He leans into her, shutting his eyes for a moment to try and steel himself. It is embarrassing that he's crying in front of her, even if he's doing it silently.]
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She'll eventually, tenderly, move her hand back to his shoulder to guide him downward so that he can rest his head in her lap, where she can pet him (isn't that what it is?). She's now able to continue along the back of his neck with her fingertips just underneath the collar of his shirt, then across his shoulder-blade and along his arm, to his wrist. Then again, and again, her soft breaths soon defaulting into the soft hum of an old French melody she recalls. ]