Special Agent Romeo (MorganxReid)

Scene III

Garcia and Reid enter into his room and closes the door behind them.

Reid: Ay, those attires are best: but, gentle Garcia,
I pray thee, leave me to my self to-night,
For I have need of many orisons
To move the heavens to smile upon my state,
Which, well thou know'st, is cross, and full of sin.

Diana enters Reids room.

Diana: What, are you busy, ho? need you my help?

Reid shakes his head and looks to her with a soft gentle look.

Reid: No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries
As are behoveful for our state to-morrow:
So please you, let me now be left alone,
And let Garcia this night sit up with you;
For, I am sure, you have your hands full all,
In this so sudden business.

Diana kisses Reid on the forehead.

Diana: Good night:
Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need.

Diana and Garcia leave Reids room.

Reid: Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.
I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
That almost freezes up the heat of life:
I'll call them back again to comfort me:
Garcia! What should she do here?
My dismal scene I needs must act alone.
Come, vial.
What if this mixture do not work at all?
Shall I be married then to-morrow morning?
No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there.

Reid lays his gun down.

Reid: What if it be a poison, which Kevin
Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead,
Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,
Because he married me before to Morgan?
I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not,
For he hath still been tried a holy man.
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
I wake before the time that Morgan
Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point!
Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault,
To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,
And there die strangled ere my Morgan comes?
Or, if I live, is it not very like,
The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place,--
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
Where, for these many hundred years, the bones
Of all my buried ancestors are packed:
Where bloody Elle, yet but green in earth,
Lies festering in her shroud; where, as they say,
At some hours in the night spirits resort;--
Alack, alack, is it not like that I,
So early waking, what with loathsome smells,
And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth,
That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:--
O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,
Environed with all these hideous fears?
And madly play with my forefather's joints?
And pluck the mangled Elle from her shroud?
And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone,
As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?
O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost
Seeking out Morgan, that did spit his body
Upon a rapier's point: stay, Elle, stay!
Morgan, I come! this do I drink to thee.

Reid falls upon his bed and his eyes start to slowly shut. The world turning into nothing but darkness.