That was not what he was expecting when he heard a bunch of cussin’.
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(Lysander stumbling through hall, supporting himself on wall)
Lysander: (thinking) My head…
Lysander:(thinking) God, why did I drink so much? I never drink.
Because they kept filling my cup, and I didn’t want to be rude, so I drank it. And then they filled it again, because it was empty.
Lysander: (thinking) It wasn’t just that. I wanted to forget her. Her rudeness, her suspicion…
The fact the she might be right. The fact that I might be leading us into a trap. Because I’m an idiot.
Lysander: (thinking) I wanted to forget them.
Sancho Bloody Ortega! A hundred some-odd years ago my forebears executed him and now his great-grandson comes back to take away the woman I’m in love with!
Lysander: (thinking) That’s not true. She chose him. And why wouldn’t she, bumbling, stupid oaf that I am! I couldn’t even tell her how I felt! Even a vulgar alcoholic convict a third her size was a better choice than me! I’m big and stupid and clumsy… I got what I deserve.
(gotten to his room, hand on the door)
Lysander: (thinking) And Uba. That poor girl. You know the horrible things her owners most likely did to her and you took advantage of her anyway. She’d never been able to object to anything a Roman did to her, she had no idea she was allowed to object to you. And why?
Lysander: (thinking) Because you’re lonely. Because you wanted to feel like someone loved you. And now you’ve scared her off. She won’t even be your friend anymore. Now you have no one on your side. You colossal screw-up!
Lysander: (thinking) Why do they say this stuff makes you forget? I haven’t forgotten anything, I just… am sadder now. If that’s possible.
Jove, is this how he feels all the time?