Welcoming, she held in greeting
Both his hands—“How com’st thou, sweetheart?...
It is time, my Heart, my lover—
Go now, slay thy wife!”
To his wife then crept Yakimy,
But he found no heart to strike her—
“You were married at the altar,
Pretty little bird!”
With entreating words she pleaded,
Begging him to leave her living....