Have you seen walking through the village A man with downcast eyes and haggard face?
That is my husband who, by secret cruelty never to be told, robbed me of my youth and my beauty;
Till at last, wrinkled and with yellow teeth,
And with broken pride and shameful humility,
I sank into the grave.
But what think you gnaws at my husband's heart?
The face of what I was, the face of what he made me!
These are driving him to the place where I lie.
In death, therefore,
I am avenged.
