- You escaped the brig even
quicker than I expected.
William-
do you notice anything?
Rather,
do you notice something that is
not there to be noticed?
- You haven't raised an alarm.
- Odd, isn't it.
Not as odd as this.
Come up with this all by you alone,
did you?
- I said to myself: "Think like Jack".
- This is what you've arrived at?
Leave Beckett the Shipwreck
Cove so as to gain his trust,
accomplish your own ends?
It's like you don't know me at all,
mate.
And how does your dearly beloved
feel about this plan?
Ahh.
You've not seen fit to trust her
with this.
- I'm losing it, Jack.
Every step I make for my father
is a step away from Elizabeth.
- Mate, if you choose to love your heart
away, you'll lose it for certain.
If I might lend a machete to your
intellectual thicket,
why, the choice is all to give up.
Changes effects.
Let someone else dispatch Jones.
- Who? ... You.
-Death has a curious way of reshuffling
one's priorities.
I'll slip aboard the Dutchman,
find the heart,
stab the beating thing,
your father goes free from his debt--
you're free to be with your charming
murderess.
-And you're willing to cut out your heart
and bind yourself to the Dutchman,
forever?
- No, mate. I'm free forever.
Free to sail the seas beyond the edges
of the map. Free from death itself.
-You'll have to do the job though, Jack.
You'll have to ferry souls
to the next world.
Or end up just like Jones.
-I don't have the face for tentacles.
But a mortal has to care for
something, aye?
-What's this for?

-Think like me. It'll come to you.
My regards to Davy Jones!
...
-I hate him!

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