Title: SAMARITAN
Author: Ivytree
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, UPN, Mutant Enemy, etc. Except Mrs. C, Eddie, Zevra, Grak, Garg, and the rest of the demon gang...
Feedback: Please!
Summary: Sequel to Grandpa; A soul takes Spike places no one expected him to go.
Setting: The near future; right about now, in fact!
A/N: Sorry for the delay, guys. First we had the Big Computer Upgrade, and then the Big Modem Crash.
So, this is where we are now: Spike has gathered a group of good demons to stop the nefarious machinations of that Josephine of Crime, the Doctor (the real Doctor, of course), with the help of Clem's mom, Mrs. Caprescu. Just as Spike and Buffy are becoming reconciled, Riley shows up looking for Sam. He fears that she's been enthralled by the Doctor, since she's half-demon. Spike calls the AI gang in for help, because the Doctor can enthrall everyone but humans and vampires. Angel, Gunn, Spike, and Buffy go looking for Sam in the Sunnydale underground. Spike and Buffy find Sam, but Angel and Gunn find Amy, who's turning back into a rat. Mrs. C doses both of them with an anti-thrall potion, but before our heroes get to question Sam, Riley takes her and runs off. Spike and Angel follow, and find that he's heading straight to the Doctor's lair. They trail him there, and, when they're captured, they pretend to sell Buffy to the Doctor – which is just what Riley's doing. Meanwhile, feeling her favorite vamps have been gone too long, Buffy mounts a rescue operation, and fights her way into the Doctor's lair, accompanied by Xander, Clem, and Gunn. Oh, and the good guys have squirt guns filled with anti-thrall potion, and an agent on the inside.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
SAMARITAN Part 20 A Wannish Fire
"Hurry! The vampires are coming!"
"Whoa! Vampires?" Gunn said. "I thought she didn't work with vampires."
"They cannot be enthralled," the little doorkeeper replied, "but they can be hired. In numbers."
"Well, goody, bring on the vamps!" Buffy said. "At least they're normal, instead of being all glassy-eyed and lifeless, like these stupid minions. That is - I mean - well, you know what I mean."
"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is life on the Hellmouth. We're GLAD to see vampires now. Come on down and party, you undead fiends!" Xander sighed. "Back to the old crossbow, I guess. Darn. I love me some hi-tech weaponry."
"Not me. I like a nice axe," Clem said, brandishing a particularly imposing one. "Keeps the nasty things at arm's length."
"You must come thisss way," the Pikak insisted.
"That's okay, bud," Xander said, dropping a hand on the creature's shoulder, causing it to jump in surprise, which was quickly followed by distaste, and it stared pointedly at Xander's hand till he removed it. "We know where we're going."
Buffy grinned at him. "Figured it out, huh?"
"Yep. It's the smell that did it. Once sniffed, never forgotten."
"You two want to share with the group?" Gunn said.
"The little gray cells have come alive. The proverbial penny has dropped."
"We know where we are." Buffy fished a small object out of her pocket and held it out on a flat palm. "When Spike and I caught Grak, I found this. I knew it reminded me of something, and I finally recognized it."
Gunn and Clem looked at the small fragment of ceramic tile resting on her hand. It was finished in a hard, glossy pale pink.
"Well, it doesn't exactly speak volumes." Gunn turned the tile over. "What is it?"
Buffy smiled, and closed her fist around it. "It's a piece of the Sunnydale High School girls' locker room wall. And we're in the gym teachers' offices right now - Miss Parkinson's desk was right over there."
"When we blew it up, part of the building must have slid underground and mooshed together with the rest of subterranean Sunnydale," Xander said. "'Mooshing' is, of course, a highly technical term we contractors use."
"I thought you burned down the high school," Gunn protested.
"No, that was the first one," Buffy said. "That was just me. And, you know, the vamps."
"Yeah, we blew this one up. Ah, the dear old innocent days of youth," Xander said, shouldering his axe. "So I'm guessing they're in the gym, doncha think? High ceilings and plenty of room for unprovoked violence? Arch Enemies always go for that."
* * * *
The Doctor turned from Angel to face Spike, her torso moving stiffly, and he saw speculation in those dark, glittering eyes. Her unnatural shape – not quite human, not quite animal, not quite robot - made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Some things were monstrous even to vampires. But he and Angel still held one advantage - she was used to reading the minds of her minions and other demons, but she couldn't read theirs.
"Two vampires, working together," the chimera purred, with a slight swaying motion that was hypnotic and vaguely stomach-turning. "This is very unusual."
"Well, don't judge by the ones you've seen 'round here, love," Spike said, in a tone of confidence, "Losers, the pack of 'em. The two of us, we're professionals."
"You dead bastards, I knew you'd turn on her!" Riley spat, struggling in Angel's grasp. Spike couldn't restrain a growl, but Angel ignored the interruption.
"That's right, uh, ma'am. We've been around a while," he said, casually shoving Riley to the floor and planting a heavy boot on the back of his neck.
"Pulled off some big jobs in our time," Spike added, eying this performance with satisfaction. With his windpipe compressed under Angel's heel, Riley's eyes bulged and his face grew flushed. Spike allowed himself to gloat. When the Old Man taught somebody a lesson, they didn't forget it in a hurry.
"In other words, we know what we're doing," Angel continued.
"I see." The Doctor folded her arms and tapped the fingers of one hand thoughtfully against her sleeve. "And if you present me with the Slayer, what do you want in return?"
"Cash," Angel responded instantly, easing his weight off Riley's neck. Spike watched Grunt Boy's gasps subside and his face return to its usual pasty color. Oh, well. "Cold, hard cash. In hand."
"What, no mystical orbs? No magical artifacts? No... eggs?" Her voice was musical, and the light glittered on her immobile features.
"No, thanks, we'll just take money," Spike said. "If we want any of that bollocks we'll nick it ourselves."
* * * *
"It's just around this corner," Buffy said, proceeding assuredly down the hallway, past mounds of rubble, disused sports equipment, and shattered display cases spilling out their bronze trophies. "There are three sets of double doors - at least, there were. And windows. God knows what happened to them. And we still don't know which way the vampires are..."
"Ah - Buff?" Xander said.
Slowing her pace, she turned with an inquiringly glance.
"I think they're coming from THAT way," he said, swiveling to the left and swinging his crossbow to his shoulder. She whirled, sword aloft, as he got off a quick shot, reloaded, and fired again. Gunn and Clem sprang into action, blades flashing. Then the vampires came - in numbers.
Grunts and cries filled the hallway, and soon the air was hazy with dust. Buffy heard the thunk of Xander's crossbow, and sliced through neck after neck herself. But they just kept coming on; there must have been dozens.
She knew they would soon be overpowered. Striving to turn back, she heard Gunn groan behind her, and Clem exclaim, "Hey! Ow!" Then strong, cold hands seized her from behind, and forced her to her knees. At first Buffy struggled fiercely, but then she realize that, oddly, none of the vampires made any move to bite or even injure her. She stopped resisting; if the vamps had planned to kill them, they would have done it by now. Now all she could do was wait, and watch for a chance to break free. From her position on the floor, she could see Xander, Gunn, and Clem, bruised, but alive.
One vamp stood directly before her, holding her sword. He was pudgy and dressed in what appeared to be a golf outfit, complete with polo shirt, cardigan, and plaid pants, which looked particularly silly, since he was in vamp-face. But he seemed to have pretensions to leadership.
"So," Buffy said, eying him with contempt. "Now what, Arnold?"
The fat little vamp grinned. "I prefer Tiger, actually."
She snorted. "You wish."
"Yes, well, be that as it may," he said. "Now we present you to the Boss Lady, and retire to fight another day, with wads of cash stuffed in our pockets."
"That's pretty lame, isn't it?" Xander said. "Aren't you guys supposed to, like, kill people, not sell them out for money?"
"Yeah, this is just sad, man," Gunn said.
"You're giving demon kind a bad name," Clem added.
"What can I say?" Tiger half bowed. "This is the twenty-first century, and I'm a progressive kind of guy. I'm going with the flow. So, move it, sis. You're off to see the wizard. Or, make that the wicked witch." He grinned again, at some joke of his own, and motioned to his minions. "Boys?"
* * * *
"So how much for the Slayer?" Spike said.
The Doctor appeared to think it over. "What are you asking?"
Spike met Angel's impassive gaze, and shrugged.
"Well, she's priceless, really, wouldn't you say?"
Still pinning Riley to the floor, Angel thrust his hands into his coat pockets. "How much can you afford?"
"Give you a cash discount, of course," Spike added. "Saves us time and trouble, doesn't it? No middleman to gum up the works."
"Sure," Angel said, shrugging. "We could go elsewhere, but think of the convenience. We're here - you're here..."
"And SHE'S here!" the Doctor snapped. Spike could have sworn her eyes narrowed behind the polished mask of her face. "She's here now. I can feel it!"
"'Course she is," he improvised. Drat the Slayer, anyway. But she wasn't the sort of girl to wait by the fireside tending her knitting, was she? He should have known she'd come riding to their rescue. "Told you we'd deliver her, didn't we?"
The double doors to the right of the platform crashed open.
* * * *
A mob of unkempt vampires swarmed in, holding Buffy, Xander, Gunn, and Clem. They'd been disarmed and roughed up, but seemed okay. Spike shot a quick look at Angel, who returned it without visible emotion. Then he forced himself to stand rigidly still as several vamps manhandled Buffy to the front of the room. Would she give them away, or would she grasp what they were doing, and play along? He saw her eyes widen in shock as she became aware of Angel standing beside him, with Riley pinned underfoot. He felt a pang of uncertainty; surely she'd known they were here? If not, why had she come?
With a desperate heave, Riley suddenly wrenched himself free. "They're selling you out, Buffy!" he screamed. "You can't trust them – I told you not to trust them! It was all a scam to get you here!"
"Riley? What are you doing here?" she said, looking confused. "What are you talking about?"
Ice trickling down his spine, Spike stood locked in place as Riley scrabbled toward her across the floor, saying, "They're not human, Buffy. They look human, but they're not. They're demons. They're evil. They're all evil. They'll sell you out as soon as look at you…"
"I thought I told you to shut up, Finn." Angel, his golden eyes ablaze with fury, seized Riley by the neck, hauled him back, and shook him like a terrier shaking a rat. "Remember our little talk?" Riley gurgled and collapsed face down on the floor. "Soon I might start getting annoyed."
"Angel, no!" Buffy cried. He turned on her with a snarl. She looked from Angel to Spike, her hazel eyes luminous with tears. "Oh, no," she whispered. "Oh, Spike… How could you?"
Time stopped for a moment. Spike wondered if perhaps he had turned to stone. So. She believed it, then. A human said it, and she believed him.
Pain swelled in his chest, right where his silent heart lay, a curbed agony straining for release. But not now. Now he had to keep his head. Later she would know the truth; later she would understand. He forced his frozen body to move, and managed a credible swagger in Buffy's direction.
"Come, now, Slayer, don't go all mushy on me," he said, grinning. He recognized her sword – her sword! - in the dirty hand of a vamp dressed for the golf course, of all things, who stood watching appreciatively. Pillock. As he neared, he snatched the sword and stiff-armed the duffer backward with a snarl. At the look in his eyes, the others holding Buffy stepped back a pace. "Winding you up, weren't we? After all – like the man says – us demons, you humans. Two don't really mix, do they?"
He brought the sword-point up to her cheek, with a smile, his heart like ice. He felt as if the skin on his chest, his arms, and his face were stiffening with frost. "I bagged two slayers already, love," he said. "Should have known I'd get you eventually."
She looked up at him, her jaw set. "You're a pig, Spike!" she spat.
She looked so beautiful. Her face was flushed with anger, and her lustrous hair, loose and disordered, tumbled over her shoulders. She met his sneer with a proud lift to her head and an expression of disdain on her face. Mastering the ache in his breast, Spike resolutely met her gaze.
And, as he did, she lowered her right eyelid in an almost imperceptible wink.
TBC
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"She seem'd, at once, some penanced lady elf,
Some demon's mistress, or the demon's self.
Upon her crest she wore a wannish fire
Sprinkled with stars, like Ariadne's tiar:
Her head was serpent, but ah, bitter-sweet!
She had a woman's mouth with all its pearls complete:
And for her eyes: what could such eyes do there
But weep, and weep, that they were born so fair?
As Proserpine still weeps for her Sicilian air.
Her throat was serpent, but the words she spake
Came, as through bubbling honey…"
John Keats, Lamia
Author: Ivytree
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, UPN, Mutant Enemy, etc. Except Mrs. C, Eddie, Zevra, Grak, Garg, and the rest of the demon gang...
Feedback: Please!
Summary: Sequel to Grandpa; A soul takes Spike places no one expected him to go.
Setting: The near future; right about now, in fact!
A/N: Sorry for the delay, guys. First we had the Big Computer Upgrade, and then the Big Modem Crash.
So, this is where we are now: Spike has gathered a group of good demons to stop the nefarious machinations of that Josephine of Crime, the Doctor (the real Doctor, of course), with the help of Clem's mom, Mrs. Caprescu. Just as Spike and Buffy are becoming reconciled, Riley shows up looking for Sam. He fears that she's been enthralled by the Doctor, since she's half-demon. Spike calls the AI gang in for help, because the Doctor can enthrall everyone but humans and vampires. Angel, Gunn, Spike, and Buffy go looking for Sam in the Sunnydale underground. Spike and Buffy find Sam, but Angel and Gunn find Amy, who's turning back into a rat. Mrs. C doses both of them with an anti-thrall potion, but before our heroes get to question Sam, Riley takes her and runs off. Spike and Angel follow, and find that he's heading straight to the Doctor's lair. They trail him there, and, when they're captured, they pretend to sell Buffy to the Doctor – which is just what Riley's doing. Meanwhile, feeling her favorite vamps have been gone too long, Buffy mounts a rescue operation, and fights her way into the Doctor's lair, accompanied by Xander, Clem, and Gunn. Oh, and the good guys have squirt guns filled with anti-thrall potion, and an agent on the inside.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
SAMARITAN Part 20 A Wannish Fire
"Hurry! The vampires are coming!"
"Whoa! Vampires?" Gunn said. "I thought she didn't work with vampires."
"They cannot be enthralled," the little doorkeeper replied, "but they can be hired. In numbers."
"Well, goody, bring on the vamps!" Buffy said. "At least they're normal, instead of being all glassy-eyed and lifeless, like these stupid minions. That is - I mean - well, you know what I mean."
"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is life on the Hellmouth. We're GLAD to see vampires now. Come on down and party, you undead fiends!" Xander sighed. "Back to the old crossbow, I guess. Darn. I love me some hi-tech weaponry."
"Not me. I like a nice axe," Clem said, brandishing a particularly imposing one. "Keeps the nasty things at arm's length."
"You must come thisss way," the Pikak insisted.
"That's okay, bud," Xander said, dropping a hand on the creature's shoulder, causing it to jump in surprise, which was quickly followed by distaste, and it stared pointedly at Xander's hand till he removed it. "We know where we're going."
Buffy grinned at him. "Figured it out, huh?"
"Yep. It's the smell that did it. Once sniffed, never forgotten."
"You two want to share with the group?" Gunn said.
"The little gray cells have come alive. The proverbial penny has dropped."
"We know where we are." Buffy fished a small object out of her pocket and held it out on a flat palm. "When Spike and I caught Grak, I found this. I knew it reminded me of something, and I finally recognized it."
Gunn and Clem looked at the small fragment of ceramic tile resting on her hand. It was finished in a hard, glossy pale pink.
"Well, it doesn't exactly speak volumes." Gunn turned the tile over. "What is it?"
Buffy smiled, and closed her fist around it. "It's a piece of the Sunnydale High School girls' locker room wall. And we're in the gym teachers' offices right now - Miss Parkinson's desk was right over there."
"When we blew it up, part of the building must have slid underground and mooshed together with the rest of subterranean Sunnydale," Xander said. "'Mooshing' is, of course, a highly technical term we contractors use."
"I thought you burned down the high school," Gunn protested.
"No, that was the first one," Buffy said. "That was just me. And, you know, the vamps."
"Yeah, we blew this one up. Ah, the dear old innocent days of youth," Xander said, shouldering his axe. "So I'm guessing they're in the gym, doncha think? High ceilings and plenty of room for unprovoked violence? Arch Enemies always go for that."
* * * *
The Doctor turned from Angel to face Spike, her torso moving stiffly, and he saw speculation in those dark, glittering eyes. Her unnatural shape – not quite human, not quite animal, not quite robot - made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Some things were monstrous even to vampires. But he and Angel still held one advantage - she was used to reading the minds of her minions and other demons, but she couldn't read theirs.
"Two vampires, working together," the chimera purred, with a slight swaying motion that was hypnotic and vaguely stomach-turning. "This is very unusual."
"Well, don't judge by the ones you've seen 'round here, love," Spike said, in a tone of confidence, "Losers, the pack of 'em. The two of us, we're professionals."
"You dead bastards, I knew you'd turn on her!" Riley spat, struggling in Angel's grasp. Spike couldn't restrain a growl, but Angel ignored the interruption.
"That's right, uh, ma'am. We've been around a while," he said, casually shoving Riley to the floor and planting a heavy boot on the back of his neck.
"Pulled off some big jobs in our time," Spike added, eying this performance with satisfaction. With his windpipe compressed under Angel's heel, Riley's eyes bulged and his face grew flushed. Spike allowed himself to gloat. When the Old Man taught somebody a lesson, they didn't forget it in a hurry.
"In other words, we know what we're doing," Angel continued.
"I see." The Doctor folded her arms and tapped the fingers of one hand thoughtfully against her sleeve. "And if you present me with the Slayer, what do you want in return?"
"Cash," Angel responded instantly, easing his weight off Riley's neck. Spike watched Grunt Boy's gasps subside and his face return to its usual pasty color. Oh, well. "Cold, hard cash. In hand."
"What, no mystical orbs? No magical artifacts? No... eggs?" Her voice was musical, and the light glittered on her immobile features.
"No, thanks, we'll just take money," Spike said. "If we want any of that bollocks we'll nick it ourselves."
* * * *
"It's just around this corner," Buffy said, proceeding assuredly down the hallway, past mounds of rubble, disused sports equipment, and shattered display cases spilling out their bronze trophies. "There are three sets of double doors - at least, there were. And windows. God knows what happened to them. And we still don't know which way the vampires are..."
"Ah - Buff?" Xander said.
Slowing her pace, she turned with an inquiringly glance.
"I think they're coming from THAT way," he said, swiveling to the left and swinging his crossbow to his shoulder. She whirled, sword aloft, as he got off a quick shot, reloaded, and fired again. Gunn and Clem sprang into action, blades flashing. Then the vampires came - in numbers.
Grunts and cries filled the hallway, and soon the air was hazy with dust. Buffy heard the thunk of Xander's crossbow, and sliced through neck after neck herself. But they just kept coming on; there must have been dozens.
She knew they would soon be overpowered. Striving to turn back, she heard Gunn groan behind her, and Clem exclaim, "Hey! Ow!" Then strong, cold hands seized her from behind, and forced her to her knees. At first Buffy struggled fiercely, but then she realize that, oddly, none of the vampires made any move to bite or even injure her. She stopped resisting; if the vamps had planned to kill them, they would have done it by now. Now all she could do was wait, and watch for a chance to break free. From her position on the floor, she could see Xander, Gunn, and Clem, bruised, but alive.
One vamp stood directly before her, holding her sword. He was pudgy and dressed in what appeared to be a golf outfit, complete with polo shirt, cardigan, and plaid pants, which looked particularly silly, since he was in vamp-face. But he seemed to have pretensions to leadership.
"So," Buffy said, eying him with contempt. "Now what, Arnold?"
The fat little vamp grinned. "I prefer Tiger, actually."
She snorted. "You wish."
"Yes, well, be that as it may," he said. "Now we present you to the Boss Lady, and retire to fight another day, with wads of cash stuffed in our pockets."
"That's pretty lame, isn't it?" Xander said. "Aren't you guys supposed to, like, kill people, not sell them out for money?"
"Yeah, this is just sad, man," Gunn said.
"You're giving demon kind a bad name," Clem added.
"What can I say?" Tiger half bowed. "This is the twenty-first century, and I'm a progressive kind of guy. I'm going with the flow. So, move it, sis. You're off to see the wizard. Or, make that the wicked witch." He grinned again, at some joke of his own, and motioned to his minions. "Boys?"
* * * *
"So how much for the Slayer?" Spike said.
The Doctor appeared to think it over. "What are you asking?"
Spike met Angel's impassive gaze, and shrugged.
"Well, she's priceless, really, wouldn't you say?"
Still pinning Riley to the floor, Angel thrust his hands into his coat pockets. "How much can you afford?"
"Give you a cash discount, of course," Spike added. "Saves us time and trouble, doesn't it? No middleman to gum up the works."
"Sure," Angel said, shrugging. "We could go elsewhere, but think of the convenience. We're here - you're here..."
"And SHE'S here!" the Doctor snapped. Spike could have sworn her eyes narrowed behind the polished mask of her face. "She's here now. I can feel it!"
"'Course she is," he improvised. Drat the Slayer, anyway. But she wasn't the sort of girl to wait by the fireside tending her knitting, was she? He should have known she'd come riding to their rescue. "Told you we'd deliver her, didn't we?"
The double doors to the right of the platform crashed open.
* * * *
A mob of unkempt vampires swarmed in, holding Buffy, Xander, Gunn, and Clem. They'd been disarmed and roughed up, but seemed okay. Spike shot a quick look at Angel, who returned it without visible emotion. Then he forced himself to stand rigidly still as several vamps manhandled Buffy to the front of the room. Would she give them away, or would she grasp what they were doing, and play along? He saw her eyes widen in shock as she became aware of Angel standing beside him, with Riley pinned underfoot. He felt a pang of uncertainty; surely she'd known they were here? If not, why had she come?
With a desperate heave, Riley suddenly wrenched himself free. "They're selling you out, Buffy!" he screamed. "You can't trust them – I told you not to trust them! It was all a scam to get you here!"
"Riley? What are you doing here?" she said, looking confused. "What are you talking about?"
Ice trickling down his spine, Spike stood locked in place as Riley scrabbled toward her across the floor, saying, "They're not human, Buffy. They look human, but they're not. They're demons. They're evil. They're all evil. They'll sell you out as soon as look at you…"
"I thought I told you to shut up, Finn." Angel, his golden eyes ablaze with fury, seized Riley by the neck, hauled him back, and shook him like a terrier shaking a rat. "Remember our little talk?" Riley gurgled and collapsed face down on the floor. "Soon I might start getting annoyed."
"Angel, no!" Buffy cried. He turned on her with a snarl. She looked from Angel to Spike, her hazel eyes luminous with tears. "Oh, no," she whispered. "Oh, Spike… How could you?"
Time stopped for a moment. Spike wondered if perhaps he had turned to stone. So. She believed it, then. A human said it, and she believed him.
Pain swelled in his chest, right where his silent heart lay, a curbed agony straining for release. But not now. Now he had to keep his head. Later she would know the truth; later she would understand. He forced his frozen body to move, and managed a credible swagger in Buffy's direction.
"Come, now, Slayer, don't go all mushy on me," he said, grinning. He recognized her sword – her sword! - in the dirty hand of a vamp dressed for the golf course, of all things, who stood watching appreciatively. Pillock. As he neared, he snatched the sword and stiff-armed the duffer backward with a snarl. At the look in his eyes, the others holding Buffy stepped back a pace. "Winding you up, weren't we? After all – like the man says – us demons, you humans. Two don't really mix, do they?"
He brought the sword-point up to her cheek, with a smile, his heart like ice. He felt as if the skin on his chest, his arms, and his face were stiffening with frost. "I bagged two slayers already, love," he said. "Should have known I'd get you eventually."
She looked up at him, her jaw set. "You're a pig, Spike!" she spat.
She looked so beautiful. Her face was flushed with anger, and her lustrous hair, loose and disordered, tumbled over her shoulders. She met his sneer with a proud lift to her head and an expression of disdain on her face. Mastering the ache in his breast, Spike resolutely met her gaze.
And, as he did, she lowered her right eyelid in an almost imperceptible wink.
TBC
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"She seem'd, at once, some penanced lady elf,
Some demon's mistress, or the demon's self.
Upon her crest she wore a wannish fire
Sprinkled with stars, like Ariadne's tiar:
Her head was serpent, but ah, bitter-sweet!
She had a woman's mouth with all its pearls complete:
And for her eyes: what could such eyes do there
But weep, and weep, that they were born so fair?
As Proserpine still weeps for her Sicilian air.
Her throat was serpent, but the words she spake
Came, as through bubbling honey…"
John Keats, Lamia