130 ‘ ‘ ² Åü¿Â I had thee once alive—to slay again !— Ah ! Who crawls in upon me like a vain Damned ghost ? Ugh ! blotchy spectre ! Fiend, aroint ! Ah Christ, he creeps toward me ; every joint Quivers with passion ; he will tear my eyes ! Away ! more liquor ! come, green cockatrice ! Come, filthy draught of fire ! green dancing fiend On serpent’s vomit and whore’s spittle weaned, Fire my fierce brain ! resolve my rotted heart ! Fill me with drunkenness ! How changed thou art, Body, from that these women loved so well ! God ! will they still lust after me in Hell ? But this is Hell ! Aha ! if you were me, Blind staring cripple yonder, you should see Whether I lie ! A cripple are you then ? Look upon me, the leper among men, The corpse among the living ! Intercede, Good pitying pitiable Christ ! My need Is viler than my sins ! Old sins, you tire ! Come, some new devilry to reinspire My lips with frenzied laughter ! Vain, ah, vain ! Th’ extreme of pleasure and the worst of pain, I have tasted all. No more, all hope must end— Hope ! Damn that word ! It mocks me like that friend