Why Jesus Wept

16 WHY JESUS WEPT. Of armed insistence against my restraint. What is worth while, though, to a woman found Fragrant and fearful to a host of men Even yet ? they throng me, hunt me ! Why should I Do this unutterable wickedness ? Because that Moina Marjoribanks grins and boasts She will achieve him ? Angela, not so ! For its own sweet, most damnable sake, say yes ! Look to those cheeks, redress the red-gold hair, Awake the giant wit, the master sin That is, for an apple’s sake, Lord of us all : These shall despoil her ; these shall ruin him. Yes, I shall clutch him to these sagging breasts Stained, bruised, — enough ! — and take his life in mine — Ugh ! pleasure of Hell ! Sir Percy Percivale, Here is a strumpet. Ha ! have you a sword ? Enough. I am dressed. I am lovely, have communed With my dark heart : I see my way to it : — Oh joy ! joy ! joy ! — Hortense, these candles out ! The maid blows out the mirror candles. I will go down. Prepare my scented paper, My rosy wax against my coming here — When, girl ? I’ th’ morn, i’ th’ morn ! When else ? I’d write. She goes out, with a set smile on her face, yet a gleam of real laughter beneath it.