I’d punish that which she became and is.
Ha, had she ever been what she has seemed
She never could have donned this shifting slough
And I’ll take vengeance on the duplex Thing.
Yes, Titus, yes, I swear it by the key
Of Paradise that she holds in her hands,
By all beatitude that she erewhile
Has granted me, that she can grant me still,
Yea, by this instant’s shudder which monitions
That I in her will blot myself to nothing,