1:12:00
How avant-garde.
1:12:02
The monk whose souI with
Heaven doth commune...
1:12:06
...and spends his days...
1:12:08
...in pious contempIation...
1:12:13
...finds he wiII meet his Maker aII too soon.
1:12:17
For aII his prayers gets no remuneration.
1:12:25
The Iesson endeth here...
1:12:28
...and it is this:
1:12:30
Each one of you,
my cIammy hands must touch.
1:12:35
Each one must bend his
forehead to my kiss.
1:12:41
But, hark!
1:12:43
Methinks a mortaI doth approach!
1:12:48
What have we here?
1:12:51
What beauty by my side?
1:12:54
A rose in bIoom, a shrinking vioIet?
1:12:58
Perhaps she has a mind to be my bride.
1:13:01
Perhaps my Iesson has not ended yet!
1:13:06
I don't want to die!
1:13:08
But Death we are and have aIways been.
1:13:10
Someone heIp me!
1:13:12
PIease!
1:13:23
-What have I done?
-We aII die!
1:13:25
But I'm young!
1:13:27
Death is no respecter of age!
It can come any time, any pIace.
1:13:44
Just as this fIesh is pink now...
1:13:47
...so it wiII turn gray and wrinkIe with age.
1:13:50
Let me Iive! I don't care!
1:13:52
Then why shouId you care if you die now?
1:13:55
And suppose Death had a heart
to Iove and to reIease you?
1:13:59
To whom wouId he turn his passion?