The crickets sing, and man's o'er-labour'd sense
Repairs itself by rest. Our Tarquin thus
Did softly press the rushes, ere he waken'd
The chastity he wounded. Cytherea,
How bravely thou becomest thy bed, fresh lily,
And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch!
But kiss; one kiss! Rubies unparagon'd,
How dearly they do't! 'Tis her breathing that
Perfumes the chamber thus: the flame o' the taper
Bows toward her, and would under-peep her lids,
To see the enclosed lights, now canopied
Under these windows, white and azure laced
With blue of heaven's own tinct. But my design,
To note the chamber: I will write all down:
Such and such pictures; there the window; such
The adornment of her bed; the arras; figures,
Why, such and such; and the contents o' the story.
Ah, but some natural notes about her body,
Above ten thousand meaner moveables
Would testify, to enrich mine inventory.
O sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her!
And be her sense but as a monument,
Thus in a chapel lying! Come off, come off:
As slippery as the Gordian knot was hard!
'Tis mine; and this will witness outwardly,
As strongly as the conscience does within,
To the madding of her lord. On her left breast
A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops
I' the bottom of a cowslip: here's a voucher,
Stronger than ever law could make: this secret
Will force him think I have pick'd the lock and ta'en
The treasure of her honour. No more. To what end?
Why should I write this down, that's riveted,
Screw'd to my memory? She hath been reading late
The tale of Tereus; here the leaf's turn'd down
Where Philomel gave up. I have enough:
To the trunk again, and shut the spring of it.
Swift, swift, you dragons of the night, that dawning
May bare the raven's eye! I lodge in fear;
Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here.
One, two, three: time, time!
- Iachimo, Cymbeline Act II, Scene 2
There are few things more disturbing than a Jack in the Box. A strangely sinister, unnerving holiday scent: redwood, bitter clove, tonka, hemp accord, and tobacco with peach blossom, black currant, and red musk.
Oh no! I'm first on another Yule.
In the bottle, it's very astringently medicinal. I was snorting so I could pick up what it reminded me of and it sort of burns at the back of the throat. Again, not what I was expecting when I ordered and not something I'd necessarily want to wear.
But like with Yule Cat, I went ahead and put some on.
Wet on skin: It's the red musk from Mircalla, but much smokier. Smoky is really the main thing I remember about first application.
Drying: The smoky has wafted away and a dry wood is mostly prominent now. I really wish I knew what individual notes smell like instead of giving just general impressions. I don't know if this is the redwood or what. A sweetishness is still lurking, but it has a distinct woodiness. Specifically a dried out wood, not freshly chopped green wood. This stage gives me the impression it's just a tad on the masculine side.
Much later this evening: All has settled down and Diable is just lovely. There's a soft sweetness to the deeper, rich tones of the scent that make it very wearable. I'm sure that has to be the peach blossom. Masculinity has went away and it's leaning more on the girly side now.
Overall: I'm very happy that Diable hopped into my cart unsniffed. I've enjoyed all stages of this morpher and I don't plan on him just sitting around unworn. Added after I was thinking about it... I have a feeling that Diable will be supremely lovely with a bit of age.