Thoughts from the Frame

Just as I surrender to the conformity of my frame, I hear  the sound of that little Dalcop, that atrocious Bobolyne.

"That's my last Duchess painted on the wall…"

"Looking as is she were alive."

I dry a little droll away from the knock of my mouth, and sit up and put on that smile Pandolf conveniently granted me.

My velvet curtain is pulled aside, and there he stands, thou son of a bitch, with his tucked-in belly and tiny slippers.

And what the Damn, he has a companion;

a dry little man, who looks like a stick

with a monocle on his eye and with a moustache a ‘bit slick

"Will't please you sit and look at her?"

Oh, what's that now? Oh, oh you want him to get a nice, good look at me. Sure, sure, go ahead, I'll just keep on smiling. That'll help that continuing popping in my jaw.

"That piece a wonder, now: Frà Pandolf’s hands"

Nice one, mentioning the good sir Frá Pandolf. Nice. I see what you did there.

" The depth and passion of its earnest glance…

So flattering…

"…And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,

How such a glance came there;"

Well, I find that quite offensive my Slobbery Sir. I ought to have that glance across my face. I actually took a walk the same day, and just as I crossed the bridge, I found myself in the presence of a sad-looking person beneath the moat.  A homeless person dare I say, eating his own foot. That's when it occurred to me: Huh. You know, I really should be thankful for not living under a moat and gnawing nail bits of my newly ripped-off foot. Hell, I can have cherries and pastries whenever I like. When asking nicely. When I'm allowed to speak. Which is a bit difficult due to the bridle, it does take certain skills to pronounce simple requests for pastries and cherries. "A heart—how shall I say?—too soon made glad… - Well, I like to think myself thankful… Too easily impressed: she liked whate’er" - Wait, wha'... "The bough of cherries some officious fool Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule" - Well, clearly you weren't available, too busy trimming your own bum hole. "She rode with round the terrace—all and each Would draw from her alike the approving speech," - Well, I like my cherries. You cannot blame a girl for fancying some cherries.

"With anybody’s gift. Who’d stoop to blame

This sort of trifling? Even had you skill

In speech—(which I have not)" To that I can agree "—to make your will

Quite clear to such an one, and say, “Just this

Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss,

Or there exceed the mark” - Guess we know who aren't wearing the Trousers in this household. "Or there exceed the mark”—and if she let Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set Her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse, —E’en then would be some stooping; and I choose Never to stoop." Ooh, suddenly you're mister Big Guy. How are you planning on explaining my sudden leave of absence in this world? "Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands; Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands As if alive." You dumb Dimhead. You just confessed everything. Guess you can kiss that big fortune of his master farewell. You have my best when you're off to the Gallows “Will’t please you rise? We’ll meet The company below, then.” Now, hold on a minute.  Mr. Stick, you did caught that, right?  "I repeat, The Count your master’s known munificence Is ample warrant that no just pretence Of mine for dowry will be disallowed; Though his fair daughter’s self, as I avowed At starting, is my object. Nay, we’ll go" Son of a.. Were you dropped on the head as an infant? Or, alternatively, were you just born stupid? My Sticky Sir, he JUST confessed he had me, his Duchess, removed from this world! My ill Sir, the Purgatory will have a special place for you. "Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though, Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity, Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!" Well, my wobbling Duke, the credit for taming that Sea-horse should be granted to me. Ever since I was put in this frame, that sea-horse and I have become… Rather fond of each other.