Woman!

You are as loathsome as a toad

Playing me, tricking me.

You are already dead

and our love with it.

As Shakespeare said:

Sell your face for five pence

and 'tis dear,

I say: You are cheap and

What is more foolish too.

I say this because it needs saying.

Wise men know well enough

what monsters you make of them.

I am no fool and no monster

But you – you are a jezebel!

Yours is a name which

blisters tongues.

It wounds hearts and

disturbs men

who are weak.

Weaker than me

and now that you

have done me wrong,

I have but one thing left to say:

I shall live to knock your brains out

or even better,

rip your heart and

crush it between every finger

on my hand.

But I will still lie with you tonight.