Three separate parts of one thing, which is Pain...
Bah, what a way to die!—
To leave my Queen still spinning there on high,
Still wondering, I dare say,
To see me in this way . . .
Madame a sa tour monte
Si haut qu'elle peut monter—
Like one of our Commissioners . . . ai! ai!
Prometheus and the women have to cry,
But no, not I . . .
Faugh, what a way to die!
But who are these that come and go
Before me, shaking laurel as they pass?
Laurel, to make me know
For certain what they mean:
That now my Fate, my Queen,
[31]
