I spent much of yesterday evening viewing and listening to different versions / interpretations of this aria - and this is tie one I come back to today. So incredibly beautiful in every way - such an exquisite production additionally, and Xenia Meijer is perfect
I'm aware of all the famous versions of all the greats but as others wrote i too love this one the most, it's very moving and "down to earth" in a sense, Xenia Meijer is wonderful.
Text: Thy hand, Belinda, darkness shades me, On thy bosom let me rest, More I would, but Death invades me; Death is now a welcome guest. When I am laid, am laid in earth, May my wrongs create No trouble, no trouble in thy breast; Remember me, remember me, but ah! forget my fate. Remember me, but ah! forget my fate.
Peter: What’s going on? Nebula: The fluid is in his lungs. (As Rocket is still wiggling uncomfortably and dangerously, we flash back to Rocket and Floor snuggling until High Evolutionary comes in angry) High Evolutionary: P1-THREE! P1-THREEEEE!!!! Theel: Sire! Sire was in the middle of his treatment. Vim: Perhaps we should resume tomorrow? High Evolutionary: (mocks what they said) NO!!! P13…oh. There you are… (He drags Rocket into the room where all the animals are being put into pods and they look terrified. As the doors close, their transformation begins.) High Evolutionary: How did you know about the microsaminoproteins, what happened!? HOW DID YOU KNOW!? Rocket: It was too little filtration. High Evolutionary: In the hypnotic, yes! We fixed that!!! BUT HOW DID YOU KNOW!? *I MADE YOU!!!* HOW DID YOU KNOW!? (Transformation is done) High Evolutionary: Because it worked…it…it worked. Their rage is gone. We have the peaceful creatures we’ve always sought, ready to inhabit the new world. Rocket: We’re going to the new world? High Evolutionary: “We?” Look at you, as if you were cobbled together by fat-fingered children. How could you be a part of a perfect species? You’re simply a medley of mistakes we could learn from and apply to the creatures that TRULY mattered. Batch 89 was never meant for the new world, P13. You could figure out the complex workings of cytoplasmic filtration systems but you couldn’t figure out that? (Gropes Rocket’s head) But that brain…that I would like to study further. (He unhands his head) Prep it for surgery and removal in the morning. Vim: What about the rest of Batch 89, sire? High Evolutionary: Incinerate them.
Shame Patricia Romanov pretends to be micmac, but when it comes to what the smallpox giver incarnates want, she would never oppose them and would go against the genuine talent of the world in a heart beat.
