Born was he of a witch from Hell,
And Satan knew his father well,
A hideous curse is on his name,
Deep has he drunk of every shame—
Sir Perseus interrupted himself: “Hardly very witty,” he remarked, “but it impresses the people it goes among.”
“Go on,” was the brief rejoinder.
Sir Perseus caught at the means of filling time that dragged.
His only sister miserably died
A mad and an unwilling bride,
Her husband she did try to slay,