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[Elizabeth has her pistol to Beckett's neck]
Elizabeth: Consider into your calcuations that you robbed me of my wedding night.
[Shoves the Letters of Marque into his shoulder]
Beckett: [takes them] So I did. A marriage interrupted... [signs the Letters, puts a wax stamp into the candle] or fate intervenes? [presses it into the Letters] You're making great efforts to ensure Sparrow's freedom. [holds them out]
Elizabeth: [grabs them, but he maintains a firm hold on them] These aren't going to Jack.
Beckett: Oh, really? To ensure Mr. Turner's freedom, then. But what of you and Jack? And what of me? I'll still want that compas. Consider that in your calculations.
[Elizabeth grabs the Letters. Still points the pistol at him as she backs out the balcony, then scurries away. Beckett walks outside, looking into the night. A guard snores in his chair nearby. Beckett looks at him for a moment, then kicks him. The guard embarrassedly gets back up to his post.]

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