The golden goblet that I hold contains not a fine wine

But the beating heart of my dearest husband

We had wed secretly away from the eyes of my father

Yet he discovered my deceit and ordered a slaughter

I have committed to end my life without shedding a tear

But my cheeks lie and provide a passage for my wretched grief

He who once created me has also destroyed me

And I feel the taste of his bitter revenge fresh on my lips

As I descend slowly into the afterlife with my beloved friend

 

 

 

After the painting by William Hogarth