Fair maiden of lechery,
I beseech thee.
Taketh my knowledge away
from my quivering lip.
Thou art mine own good whore.
Shall I take thy integrity?
O'er dost thou not have a conscience?
O' fair whore,
the soil thou hast lain on-
now rotten, degraded.
O' maiden of adultery!
Thy sins shalt not be absolved.
And thou art but a wench.
To the guillotine!
Forgive thy own sins and I may
forgive thee.
No, I shall not absolve thee.
Away!
To the guillotine!
To take thy gasping breath.
 
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