You play the spy! You come by night: you spoil
My paper, take my tools, and burn my oil—
Stealing my Book of Beauty leaf by leaf;
And yet you dare to say you are no thief!
Tiki.
As a starving man reaches his hand for bread,
So in my darkness I reached out for these!
Master, the hunger was too strong,—the dread
Of Beauty drove me! For her fierce decrees
Man must obey, albeit to his own doom!