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