Poems (Millay)/Sonnet vi (Bluebeard)
VI
Bluebeard
This door you might not open, and you did;So enter now, and see for what slight thingYou are betrayed. . . . Here is no treasure hid,No cauldron, no clear crystal mirroringThe sought-for truth, no heads of women slainFor greed like yours, no writhings of distress,But only what you see. . . . Look yet again—An empty room, cobwebbed and comfortless.Yet this alone out of my life I keptUnto myself, lest any know me quite;And you did so profane me when you creptUnto the threshold of this room to-nightThat I must never more behold your face.This now is yours. I seek another place.