The Magic of Love

December 9, 2011
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Buttercup [The Princess Bride] & Lysander [Midsummer Night’s Dream]

ROBIN: Churl , upon thy eyes I throw

All the power this charm doth owe.

[He anoints Lysander’s eyelids with the nectar.]

When thou wak’st, let love forbid

Sleep his seat on thy eyelid.

So, awake when I am gone,

For I must now to Oberon.

In the Athenian nightfall, Buttercup galloped through the woods, trying to clear her mind. It was longer than her usual ride, but the way home to the barren and vacant castle seemed lost in the distance.
Buttercup was not like most women; first she exceeded every other woman in beauty, and even the stunning Countess was jealous of her. Secondly, her wedding day was the day she dreaded the most.
In a week, Buttercup would be marrying Prince Humperdinck, who despite his wealth and the fact that he was the heir to the Guilder throne, was cold and heartless. Her daily rides were the time she got peace of mind, escaping from the horrors of becoming the next princess. She didn’t know why she never left the Prince, as she knew that she would never love him. She would never love anybody ever again.
A peaceful hoot echoed in the night, and Buttercup soon realized it was time to return home or the Prince would send out troops to find her once again. Buttercup started to pivot her steed, when all of a sudden he got spooked by a figure beneath his feet. It revealed to be a young man, peacefully asleep. Buttercup descended from her horse and towered over the gentleman. He suddenly came to, gently opening his eyes like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. He got up quickly, and brushed the debris off his chiton, nervously trying to make himself presentable.
“Oh fair maiden, has anyone told you of your beauty? Of the way the moonlight frames your face so perfectly? Every animal in these woods is singing your praise, and every gentleman in Athens will be envious of yours truly. You have captured my heart at first glance, and I will love you ‘til the last twilight this world will see.”
Buttercup, at first, was taken aback and flattered, but then realized how unusual and uncomfortable the situation was. She suddenly heard a sound from afar and she looked around, expecting to find someone in the trees mocking her, but nobody was there.
“Is something bothering you, my dear?” Lysander peeped.
“Nothing. And I can assure you there is nothing for you here, whoever you are. I’m getting married next week, and I’m pretty sure your presence will put a damper on the day.” Buttercup countered.
“Yet you don’t resemble a girl who’s in love. Who is this gentleman that I may contest for your heart?” Lysander said, full of pride.
“Humperdinck. Prince Humperdinck of Guilder.” For the first time Buttercup actually felt gratified saying his name.
“Fancy. But I can assure you that in all the lands, crossing mountains and deserts, I am your true destiny.”
“No, my true destiny was murdered on a ship three years ago, and though Westley’s death is a strain on our relationship, we are joined by the bonds of love” It felt so good to say his name after so long, but it only reopened a void in Buttercup’s heart. She turned around from him sharply and searched for her stallion, but it was nowhere to be found. Marvelous, she thought, he scampered back home and I am stuck in these dreadful woods with this bizarre man. Buttercup looked for his hoof prints, trying to find a route back home, and found absolutely nothing. Between the eerie events of the day and the dreary duties of becoming a princess, Buttercup was worn-out. She collapsed to the ground, ruining her dress in the mucky soil.

ROBIN: Flower of this Purple dye,
Hit with Cupid’s archery,
Sink in apple of [her] eye.
When [her] love [she] doth espy,
Let [him] as gloriously
As the Venus of the sky.
When thou wak’st, if [he] be by,
Beg of [him] for remedy.

When Buttercup woke up the next morning, a strange sense of comfort and serenity washed over her for the first time in three years. The man sleeping across from her caught her eye at first glance. He suddenly woke up, and his expression softened when he saw her. She reexamined him and was surprised by how handsome he was. His striking features were complimented with a pair of beautiful sea green eyes that glistened in the sun.
“Oh my love, could you ever forgive me for how I treated you last night? I don’t know what got into me. I, Buttercup, can promise you now, that ‘til the last twilight this world will see, you are my true destiny.” But something troubled Buttercup, was it the words she said? It couldn’t possibly; she loved Lysander with all her heart. Still, some man with an Adonis façade glimmered in the back of her head.
“Fair Buttercup, oh, how just a name melts my heart like honey. I, Lysander, vow to be at your side to hell and back, crossing deserts and slaying the Minotaur.”
Somehow, though his words made Buttercup’s heart skip a beat, something was unsettling.
“Is something wrong my fair maiden?”
She unexpectedly became drowsy, losing consciousness, but all she saw was a man in black.

ROBIN: On the ground

Sleep sound.

I’ll apply

To your eye,

Gentle lover, remedy.

[Robin applies the nectar to Lysander’s eyes.]

When thou wak’st,

Thou tak’st

True delight

In the sight

Of thy former lady’s eye.

And the country proverb known,

That every man should take his own,

In your waking shall be shown.

Jack shall have Jill;

Naught shall go ill;

The man shall have his mare again, and all shall be well.

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