Oberyn Martell:
[perusing trio of prostitutes]
Look at this one. How lovely is she?
Ellaria Sand:
Beautiful. But pale.
Oberyn Martell:
We like them pale in the capital.
[slips off the girl's robe]
Oberyn Martell:
Shows they don't work the fields.
Ellaria Sand:
[to the young girl]
Do I frighten you?
[the girl shakes her head]
Oberyn Martell:
[to Ellaria]
You like?
Ellaria Sand:
Timid. Timid bores me.
Oberyn Martell:
Mm.
[moves on to the next, a redhead]
Oberyn Martell:
You're a bit of mischief, aren't you?
[to Ellaria:]
Oberyn Martell:
I think she likes you.
[slips this girl's robe off as well]
Ellaria Sand:
She's got good taste.
Oberyn Martell:
[to the redhead]
You're not timid, are you?
Ellaria Sand:
[laughs merrily as the agile girl places her bare foot on the back of her own head]
Not timid.
Oberyn Martell:
Do you like women?
Whore #1:
When they look like her, my lord.
Ellaria Sand:
This one will do nicely.
Olyvar:
Very good, my lady.
Ellaria Sand:
Oh, I'm not a lady.
Olyvar:
A term of courtesy in this establishment.
Ellaria Sand:
A lie anywhere. Why not use the right words? I'm a bastard. She is a whore. And you're what?
Olyvar:
A procurer. Any of the others?
Oberyn Martell:
[sighs]
The two girls can leave.
[Olyvar snaps his fingers to shoo away the two girls not chosen]
Oberyn Martell:
You stay.
