I Am Not Macbeth, I Am the Fool

You wanted to give me everything— everything— every last thing— you bared yourself and said—I am yours. You said— we would out-do Mellors and Constance! And I, l'idiot— I looked at you through the eyes of a man— voracious—cunning eyes. When I stopped—mid-stride— I saw it all—suddenly—clearly—through your eyes. Too late. Je suis Le Fou—non, je suis une fou.