All language subtitles for Fantasy.Island.1977.S06E12.Tallowed.Image-Room.and.Bard.480p.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-squalor_track3_[eng]

[BELLS TOLLING]

The plane! The plane!

-Good morning, boss. -Good morning, Tattoo.

[GIRLS GIGGLING]

Smiles, everyone! Smiles!

[BAND PLAYS]

MR. ROARKE: Ah, Mr. Andy Durant.

A high school track coach from a small town in Vermont.

TATTOO: Why all the magazines?

Because, Tattoo, Mr. Grant has fallen in love

with a lovely model, Ms. Pamela Gentry.

I'm sure those magazines are filled with her pictures.

She did a very popular champagne ad in, uh, 1893.

Boss, he's in love with a 90-year-old woman?

No, no, Tattoo.

I'm afraid Ms. Gentry passed away years ago.

Mr. Durant's fantasy is to meet Ms. Gentry

as she was at the height of her beauty.

TATTOO: Boss, how are you going to do that?

By sending him Victorian England,

where not only Ms. Gentry, but a great danger awaits him.

TATTOO: Boss, isn't that Angela Marckham,

-the famous movie star? -MR. ROARKE: Movie star?

Well, I'm not sure

Ms. Marckham would agree with that description, Tattoo.

She prefers to think of herself as a serious actress.

You mean The Towering Disaster is a serious movie?

Perhaps that's her problem, Tattoo.

Ms. Marckham wants to change her image.

Her fantasy is to give a performance

that Shakespeare himself would have been proud of.

In fact, she wishes to appear in one of William Shakespeare's

original Globe Theater productions.

My dear guests,

I am Mr. Roarke, your host. Welcome to Fantasy Island.

[♪♪♪♪♪]

MR. ROARKE: Mr. Durant, how did you happen

to come across these pictures of Ms. Gentry?

ANDY: It was weird. I was in the public library

checking out some sports magazines,

when one of these fell off the shelf.

I guess it had been misplaced.

I leaned down to pick it up and there she was.

You mean you fell in love with a photograph?

Something clicked inside me when I saw her face.

Something that said we belong together.

But surely it would be far more practical to find a woman

for whom you could care now, wouldn't it?

Mr. Roarke, I'm a track coach. Running is my specialty.

Unfortunately, it's also my problem.

I can handle hard work, sweat, any amount of physical pain.

But emotional relationships

scare the legs right out from under me.

What makes you so sure

you're not going to run when you see Ms. Gentry?

[PAGES RUSTLING]

Because when I look at her picture,

I feel confident.

With her, I think I could be the kind of man I always wanted to be.

That's why I want this fantasy, Mr. Roarke. How do I meet her?

With this.

This is blank.

MR. ROARKE: Only for the moment, I assure you.

When you have need, one side will help you find Ms. Gentry

and the other side will introduce you to her.

Well, if you say so.

What happens now?

Your fantasy, Mr. Durant,

will begin when you light this candle.

However, we're a bit early.

And timing is crucial in these matters.

Extremely crucial.

Tattoo and I will be back in exactly 30 minutes.

Relax until then, Mr. Durant.

Relax.

Tattoo.

[SIGHS]

Relax? How am I supposed to relax?

[THUNDERCLAP]

It changed color.

What happened to the lights?

What's going on in here?

[SCREAMS]

[SHRIEKING]

Whoa!

Wax. A wax dummy?

Who's there?

[INHALING DEEPLY]

As I'm sure you realize, Ms. Marckham,

in Shakespeare's day, women performing on the stage...

Well, it was simply unheard of.

All parts were played by men.

-You mean... -That's right, Tattoo.

The first Juliet probably had t o shave before the performance.

Mr. Roarke,

I didn't get to where I am without certain initiative.

I won't let anything stop me from fulfilling this fantasy.

Now,

if you really can send me back to Shakespeare's time,

I'll take care of the rest.

Very well, Ms. Marckham, as you wish.

Will you have a seat please? Thank you.

Now, if you'll close your eyes.

Concentrate on 17th century England.

The costumes,

the idiosyncrasies and customs

of those days of long ago...

Now, Master Shakespeare,

we'll see about thy dallying with my wife.

[GASPS]

[STAMMERING] I was there. Why am I back here?

How strange.

Perhaps there' a counter-current in the time stream.

Yes. Why don't you return to your bungalow

while I work something out, Ms. Marckham?

All right.

But if you don't pull this off, Mr. Roarke,

after all your promises, remember this:

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

That's not Shakespeare.

No, it's Angela Marckham.

Boss?

[LOUD SNORING]

Ana?

Teresa?

Florence?

Who in the queen's name art thou, wench?

Oh, no.

[GASPING]

Ms. Marckham, I believe I found the problem.

So have I, and he's in my bed.

TATTOO: Boss, is that who I think it is?

In the flesh, my friend.

Mr. Shakespeare, welcome to Fantasy Island.

As I was about to explain to Ms. Marckham,

apparently we tuned into Mr. Shakespeare

at a time of a life and death crisis.

The earl of Norfolk

was about to run his sword through Mr. Shakespeare's chest.

Well, naturally the bard's desire to escape was greater

than your desire to go back. And since the connection

was open at that precise moment...

-SHAKESPEARE: Psst. -...presto,

here he is. I assure you

things like this don't happen very often.

But since it has happened...

Little Sirrah, this place here,

-be it heaven or hell? -Neither.

Like the boss said, you are on Fantasy Island.

Be that perchance near Dover?

MR. ROARKE: ...golden opportunity.

Ms. Marckham, may I suggest

perhaps you can persuade him

to write a scene specifically for you.

-Tattoo. -Yes, boss.

Excuse me.

Well, we...

certainly could talk about it, couldn't we?

Do you mind if I call you Bill?

[VICTORIAN MUSIC PLAYS]

Excuse me, Officer, I'm...

Mr. Roarke?

Am I glad to see you. Listen, I lit that candle,

and I ended up in some weird wax museum.

Yes. I warned you about the need for proper timing,

didn't I, Mr. Durant? Had you waited 30 minutes,

like you were supposed to, you would have ended up here.

-Sorry, I couldn't help myself. -Mm-hmm.

By the way, where exactly is here?

London, England, the year 1893.

Precisely where Ms. Gentry resided

when she first began her career as an artist's model.

Hey, terrific, Mr. Roarke. Terrific. Terrific.

But that card you gave me to find her is still blank.

I suggest you look again.

Did you see the... Mr. Roarke?

[WHISTLING]

To be transported over the gulfs of time

to a land where fantasies are come true.

I mean, it's an age of marvels.

Unbounded.

And undraped.

Oh, come now, you're not wasting your creative energy

on the same old much ado about nothing. Get it?

Ah, 'twould seem not.

What a wonderful turn of phrase.

Much ado about nothing.

[CHUCKLES] I must need remember that.

Um, tell me about this lord Norfolk.

Bah, Norfolk. That less than senseless thing.

Ooh!

The sword at my heart

was nigh onto making a rather nasty point.

Why did he want to kill you?

To curry favor with our noble Queen Elizabeth

by skewering me alive.

I thought, uh, she was a patron of the theater.

Aye, 'tis true. 'Tis so.

But... 'tis also true

that I have written of her forebears

in not the most flattering of phrase.

She would not, I fear, shed many tears at my passing.

There is also the matter of the earl's wife.

An attractive and lustful woman.

Um...

Bill, could we get our minds back as to why we're both here?

Mmm.

Let's make a bargain.

You write a special scene just for me,

and I agree to keep you here,

safe from the earl's sword, in my fantasy.

Agreed?

Agreed. [CHUCKLING]

Thou be not unattractive thyself, dear lady.

[CHUCKLES] Well, thank you.

Now, um, about my scene, hmm?

Aye.

Where dost thou hide, lecher?

Shakespeare, what demons have found league with

to transport me here?

Elizabeth shall be most interested to hear of this

after I have run thee through.

In the name of decency, wench,

get thee some clothes on thy body.

Shakespeare, where art thou?

I shall get thee, thou peacock.

[KNOCKING ON DOOR]

PAMELA: Come in. I'm just about ready.

ANDY: It's her.

-It's actually you. -Are you the driver?

Driver? No.

My name is Andy Durant. [STAMMERING]

I have a card.

Here.

Oh.

A Mr. Roarke wrote to me about you.

He said you were interested in helping me with my career.

[CHUCKLES]

I expected someone more mature.

I really adore older men.

They're so experienced and knowledgeable.

Something wrong?

Absolutely not. It's just that you're even

more beautiful in person than in the magazines.

[KNOCKING ON DOOR]

That must be Mr. Kragen's driver.

Ms. Gentry?

Mr. Kragen sent me to collect you.

PAMELA: Just one moment, please.

[WHISPERING] You can't go with him.

Well, of course I can. He's taking me to an interview

with Frederick Kragen, the famous sculptor.

Mr. Kragen wants me to pose for him.

Well, then I'm coming too.

Mr. Kragen expects to see Ms. Gentry alone.

[SIGHS] Mr. Durant is my new manager.

-And he always accompanies me on my interviews. -Yeah.

Haven't I seen you somewhere?

No. No. I don't think so. I don't get around much.

Not like I used to. Shall we go?

SHAKESPEARE: Why did mistress Angela dispatch me here

to view this... Whatever it be?

It's a word processor.

Look.

You punch those key,

and the letter appear right on the screen.

And you're writing.

Watch.

Thou would process words as thou does process cheese?

[SCOFFS]

I cannot compose on this foul monstrosity.

Aye, foul.

It is foul indeed. Speaking whereof,

hast thou any goose quill pens at hand perchance?

Goose quill?

Wait, I'll see what I can do. Come on, Bill.

[SCOFFS] Alas, always a deadline.

[TELEVISION PLAYING]

[SIREN BLARING ON TV]

Zounds!

WOMAN: Are you in that renaissance fair over there?

Mercifully, no.

Tell me, my dear, how does one so fair and supple as thou art

unescorted in this sensuous and tropical clime?

Bill, what do you think you're doing?

You're supposed to be writing my scene.

-Yes. -Remember our bargain?

Well, I do.

Uh... Dear lady. Dear, dear Angela.

Hmm.

The truth be...

that of late I have been beset by troubles.

The truth is

I cannot write.

The words they cometh not.

You mean you have writer's block?

Mm-hmm.

Oh, no, this is it. Mr. Roarke!

PAMELA: So real, so life-like.

Mr. Kragen is a true genius.

Maybe so.

But he's got a strange taste in subject matter, don't you think?

Andy, be more respectful. Do you know what a job like this

-could do for my career? -Mm-hmm.

Mr. Kragen.

[SIGHS]

You're even lovelier than I dare to hope.

Welcome to Kragen manner, Ms. Gentry. [SNAPS FINGER]

Oh, I'm very honored, Mr. Kragen.

Your work is exquisite.

Mr. Kragen, I'm Ms. Gentry's manager.

I don't bother with bookkeepers. You needn't have come.

I'm very generous to my models.

Let me give you a tour.

What do you think of it?

It's... It's chilling.

It's terrifying. But beautiful.

That look of madness in her eyes.

-It's almost pitiful. -[KRAGEN SIGHS]

You do understand.

So many people see only ugliness.

[GASPS] Jennifer!

[GASPING]

I'm sorry, but I know that girl. That's Jennifer Payton.

A friend of mine.

She was one of my best models.

Although her beauty is nothing compared to yours.

I think we've seen enough. And I think it's time

to tell you that the fee for Ms. Gentry's services

is 10,000 dollars.

-Pounds. -A small sum for such beauty.

But sadly, much too high for a poor artist like myself.

-I'm sure we can negotiate. -Absolutely not.

Thank you very much. You don't have to show us out.

Have you changed your mind about her?

Of course not.

I merely want to be rid of that fool with her.

Follow them discreetly.

Wait until he leaves her,

then bring Ms. Gentry back to me.

[OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYS]

[DOOR CLOSES]

You are such a beautiful imitation.

How unfortunate I had to destroy the original.

[GOOSE HONKING]

Come back! Come back!

Come back here!

Come back, you silly goose.

Tattoo. Tattoo!

Yes, boss?

May I ask you just what it is you're doing?

Bill wanted a goose quill pen to write,

-so I thought I'd-- -I see.

Well, may I suggest you visit the Fantasy Island gift shop?

I believe they carry goose quill pens as curiosities.

-[GOOSE HONKING] -[GROANS]

Okay, boss.

Mr. Roarke? Mr. Roarke.

You've got to do something.

Your Mr. Shakespeare just told me he has writer's block.

This whole fantasy is going up in flames.

Indeed? Oh, I'm sorry, Ms. Marckham.

I just wanted to prove I'm a good actress, that's all.

You know I spent 15 years making other people believe it.

All I want to do is prove it to myself,

-you know? -Oh, I know.

But I can't interfere in your fantasy, I'm sorry.

-However... -However?

However, I can tell you your fantasy will be successful,

Ms. Marckham, provided you remember

Mr. Shakespeare is a stranger in a strange land,

and that you guard him against harm or accident at all times.

You mean I have to baby-sit William Shakespeare?

-I'm afraid so. -All he thinks about

is the member of the fair sex

closest to him at any given moment.

She makes a good point.

The point, Tattoo,

is that if anything happens to Mr. William Shakespeare

while he's here on Fantasy Island

some of the greatest poetry and plays of all time

may never be written.

And you, Ms. Marckham,

may never get to act your greatest role.

SHAKESPEARE: [LAUGHS] Ah, my fair one,

I would immortalize thee

in some tender sonnet,

which I shall write for thee... later.

If you would be of mind to dally in some secluded bower.

Aha!

So the dog is up to his old alley tricks, is he?

Damnation, Norfolk.

How came thee here?

Sorcery, as thou know full well.

But I have vowed to make thee pay for thy trespasses,

blaggard, and so I shall.

No longer shall thy obscene writings

and habits corrupt defenseless women such as my wife.

My dear Norfolk, thou has read my words

and yet seem uncorrupted.

I am a strong character

and can resist thy evil influences.

And of more import, I am of the male gender.

[HORN HONKING]

What demonic creature is this?

Have at thee, now!

[LAUGHS] 'Tis slain.

Now, 'tis thy turn.

What, not yet dead?

Thou has survived for the moment, blaggard,

through the wizardry of these white-garmented sorcerers,

but only for the moment.

I shall seek thee out again.

Bill, are you all right?

Aye.

Thanks for thy timely intervention, Master Roarke.

Perhaps I shall stay here on this island.

Spend out all my days.

Mr. Shakespeare, you don't seem to understand.

When Ms. Marckham's fantasy ends tonight

so will your stay on Fantasy Island.

You will return to your own time.

Oh, Master Roarke, I pray not.

With Norfolk's persuasions, the queen will see my head

taken from me. She has said as much.

I'm sorry but I...

PAMELA: Ten thousand pounds! Are you out of your mind?

I am starving to death,

and you lose me a chance to work!

Look, Pamela, that was just a ploy to get you out of there.

That guy Kragen is a weirdo.

Weirdo? What's a weirdo?

Never mind. The man is a genius.

-He's a middle-aged creep. -He's elegant.

All I ever get from young men like you

are indecent propositions. Just, just get out of here!

This is my fantasy. I'm not leaving.

Fine.

Mr. Durant,

I am going to sit here and read the evening paper.

If you are not out of here in two minutes,

I'm calling a constable!

Andy, look at this.

"Miss Jennifer Payton of Wendon Lane

has been missing for ten days.

Police consider foul play a definite possibility."

This is the girl we saw at Kragen's.

That was her last job. She was so excited about it.

Pamela,

what do you know about Kragen anyway?

[SIGHS] Well, nothing really. I mean,

he's not an important artist yet, but definitely a genius.

I'm just glad I got you out of there.

Andy,

suddenly I'm frightened.

There's nothing to be afraid of now.

Pamela, you're beautiful.

[PAMELA GASPS]

Andy!

Where are you taking me? Andy!

MR. ROARKE: Mr. Durant? Mr. Durant, are you all right?

Somebody hit me from the rear. Why?

Where did she go? She wouldn't leave like that...

unless...

Unless someone forced her to go?

Yes.

Kragen. It had to be him. Or that ape Otto.

-Did you see anything? -No, I'm afraid not.

I dropped by merely to see how your fantasy was progressing.

I saw only you, unconscious on the floor.

And this curious substance on the carpet by the door.

Wax. Kragen sculpts statues out of this.

This must've stuck to his shoe.

He's kidnapped Pamela!

To be

or not... to be.

That's a good question.

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind...

to suffer...

the slings and arrows of...

the earl of what's his.

Or...

to take arms...

against a sea of troubles,

and by opposing,

end them.

[LAUGHS]

By gad that's good. I'm going to write that down.

ANGELA: Bill?

Pray enter, dear lady. [CHUCKLES]

Uh, may I offer the bit of ale, though it be a mite thin?

Uh, no thanks, I'll pass.

Ah. Well, 'tis a stiffener to one's courage

if nothing else.

Then do something courageous.

Dear madam, I am a lover,

a poet and a scribe, and very little of a warrior.

[LAUGHS] Alas.

[SCOFFS] Would you put that down?

If you don't care about the earl's sword

carving you into London broil, I do.

And to what does one owe this sudden concern,

Mistress Angela?

Until now all thou hast cared about

has been thine own bloody self.

You're right. That's all I cared about.

Because I thought if I didn't, nobody else would.

First, I had to get where I wanted to be.

And then when I got there,

I was terrified... that I wouldn't stay.

Actors can be very selfish and self-involved.

Well, I am somewhat of an actor myself, dear lady.

I know of what thou speakest.

What... What I'm trying to say is...

Well?

Well, my problem doesn't seem that large anymore.

Not compared with yours.

After all, it was my fantasy that got you into this mess,

and I'd like to help you if I could.

-"To be or not to be?" -Aye.

'Tis something that just occurred to me

on the spur of the moment.

You just thought of it?

Aye.

Mayhap I'll use it in a play I've had in mind of late.

-Hamlet, Prince of Norway. -Denmark?

Aye, that could work.

Hamlet, Prince of Denmark.

Bill, don't you know what's happened?

You've started writing again.

Look, forget about that scene you were going to write for me.

Perhaps...

Perhaps you could write something

to placate the earl. Uh...

something pious.

Something about the queen.

[EXHALES]

Inflate her ego. You know, butter her up. Uh...

However you say it...

[SNORING]

Oh! Talk about outrageous fortune.

[SNORING LOUDLY]

Bill...

PAMELA: I want to leave now.

I offer you life ever-lasting, and you wish to leave?

Why, you spiteful little wretch. I'm going to make you immortal!

That's very nice, Mr. Kragen, but...

I really don't think I want to pose for you.

Pose?

[LAUGHING MADLY]

Otto!

Lock her in. I must check the mixture.

The eve of my greatest creation has begun!

Otto,

what did he mean his greatest creation?

Why, you, of course.

[DOOR CLOSES]

[INDISTINCT CHATTER]

[TATTOO SPEAKING FRENCH]

Little one,

thou art with that poltroon Shakespeare this afternoon.

Thou shalt take me to him forthwith.

No speak the English. Vous parlez français?

On the other hand, why don't you follow me?

ANGELA: Tattoo!

Tattoo, Shakespeare is writing again,

but he's absolutely blitzed, and I can't wake him up.

Could you...

-Oh, no, not the earl. -Aye, the earl.

Now, lead me to that scribbler Shakespeare,

or I'll cut thy friend's heart out

and serve it on a plate to the dogs of the kennel.

Like, do it fast.

[YAWNS]

Prepare to die, thou drunken oaf.

Oh! This is insane. My good lord, no.

Uh, surely one of such noble birth

shouldn't have to resort to base violence to settle a dispute.

No? Why not?

Thou art using 20th century logic on a 16th century man?

In our time men were violent and proud of it.

In your time men are violent and ashamed of it.

-[NORFOLK GRUNTS] -What are you doing, buster?

Listen, this is my bungalow. You put that thing down.

If you want violence,

you're going to have to settle for a video game.

[HAND MIXER WHIRS]

-Out of my way, wench. -Not another move, Norfolk,

lest this formidable weapon render the

into carnival confetti.

[GRUNTING]

[HAND MIXER TURNS OFF]

Um...

[SCREAMS]

PAMELA: Oh, it's cold in here.

Oh! Andy!

Andy, are you all right?

[WHISPERS] Otto's right outside Go behind me in a few minutes.

I was so worried about you.

It was just a little lump on the head.

It's freezing in here.

Well, I found some wood and managed to make a fire.

I don't think this fireplace has been used for centuries.

Yeah, well, Kragen doesn't strike me as the type

that likes to curl up in front of a fire with a good book.

You know, you're right about Mr. Kragen. He is insane.

He says he wants to make me immortal.

Look, forget about him. We'll be out of here soon.

It's strange, but I feel so safe with you.

When I met you, when you first came to the door of my flat,

I was feeling like such an awful failure.

I thought that nobody in the world cared about me.

I care.

I have ever since I saw the first picture of you.

[PAMELA SCREAMS]

That's real bone.

Kragen is no artist.

He murders people and preserves their bodies in wax.

Quite right, Mr. Durant.

But you're very wrong in saying that I'm not an artist.

Because of my talents you both are going to live forever.

Otto.

MR. ROARKE: Oh, I can protect Mr. Shakespeare

while he's here on Fantasy Island, Ms. Marckham.

But once he and the earl return to their own time,

there is nothing I can do.

Well, then we're going to have to convince the earl

not to kill him. But how?

Do I need to remind you that you are an actress?

And what actress doesn't dream of doing Shakespeare?

And of choosing her own role?

Think about it, Ms. Marckham.

Think about it.

[LAUGHING AND CHATTING]

Lend me thy sword.

EARL: Defend thyself, now.

Thou diest seducer, purveyor of obscenity. [GRUNTS]

[CROWD CHEERING]

That which is obscene lies in thy heart, Norfolk,

not in my words.

[SCOFFS] Repent thy precious words

and mayhap I shall let thee live.

Death cannot change that which is true and just.

[GRUNTING]

[CHEERING]

Now, prepare to die, Master Shakespeare.

[TRUMPETS PLAYING]

CRIER: Make way for Her Majesty!

Hast thou forgotten how to show respect

to thy queen, lord Norfolk?

Forgive me, my queen.

I simply have never been graced with thy presence before,

having seen thee but from afar.

Tell me, my queen, how camest thou hither to this...

strange land?

Perchance to watch me skewer this dog Shakespeare?

No, my lord.

I come to command thee. Spare him.

But, my Queen, why?

Dost thou not know?

The quality of mercy is not strained.

It droppeth as a gentle rain from heaven;

upon the place beneath.

It is twice blest:

It blesseth him that gives

and him that takes.

'Tis mightiest in the mightiest;

it becomes the thronèd monarch better than his crown.

Are thou truly mighty, Norfolk?

I forgive thee, sir.

My wife hath long vexed me thus.

No, my lord,

thy wife's dalliance lies more in mind than in the deed.

[INDISTINCT CHATTER]

Well,

that should take care of you

for a couple hundred years or so, at least.

Oh, my highest thanks, Lady Angela.

Thou art truly a queen.

In spirit!

And most queenly as an actor.

Did I really do well, Bill?

Oh, thou were't wondrous.

And thy words, so stirring, so flowing.

Wouldst thou mind if I write them down

and add to them?

-To use them in a play? -Aye.

-Would you? -Oh, thank thee.

I'll call it "The Peddler of Venice."

-"Merchant," Bill. Merchant. -Merchant?

Aye, it has a certain ring to it.

The Merchant of Venice. [CHUCKLES]

Ah, well.

Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore,

so do our minutes hasten to their end.

I'll not forget thee, dearest Angela.

In my play I shall call thee Portia.

[SIGHS]

[LAUGHS] This will be my greatest masterpiece.

[LAUGHS]

You see how simple and brilliant my technique is?

You will be strapped into the chair

and immersed into the boiling wax.

Your friend Jennifer was much more cooperative than you.

But your original beauty will ensure my masterpiece.

[LAUGHS] Otto, bring them here.

[OTTO GROANS]

No hurry. You two will have all eternity together.

Damn it.

[GRUNTING]

Andy, look out!

Well, I don't know whether to say thanks or not, Mr. Roarke.

My fantasy turned out a lot different than I expected, but...

for the first time in my life, I got emotionally involved.

If it hadn't been for you, Mr. Durant, Ms. Pamela Gentry

would not have lived the long and happy life she did.

-Goodbye, Mr. Roarke. -Goodbye, sir.

-Tattoo. -Goodbye.

And thanks.

Well, Ms. Marckham, you came here, as I recall,

to give a performance that Shakespeare himself

would have been proud of, and you succeeded admirably.

Oh, I did more than that, Mr. Roarke.

For the first time in my life

I gave without thought of getting something back.

Indeed, that will make you a better actress

than you ever dreamed, Ms. Marckham.

I promise you.

-Thank you, Mr. Roarke. -You're very welcome.

-Tattoo. -Goodbye.

Goodbye.

Well, boss, it looks like our revels have now ended.

Indeed, Tattoo.

These our actors, as I foretold you,

were all spirits and are melted into air,

into thin air:

And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,

-the cloud-capp'd towers-- -Tattoo, Tattoo.

All's well that ends well.

Let's leave it at that, shall we?

[♪♪♪♪♪]