Stop the lying mouth!
Friends, your sword-service!
Tannhäuser.
Will they answer you?
My arm is weary as your souls are not
Of beastliness: I have drawn my father’s sword,
Hard as your virtue is the easy sort,
Heavy to handle as your loves are light,
Smooth as your lies, and sharper than your hates!
I know you! Cowards to the very bone!