You have turned my love to hate.

From your smooth skin there I could strip those rags, and call upon them all to look at you--my wife--a felon's wife; mine to have and to hold--to hold, you hear!--as it was sworn at the altar.

I bare my heart to you, repenting, and you mock it, torture it, with your undying hate and cruelty.

You have no heart, no life.

This white bosom is all of you--all of your power to make men love you--this, and your beauty.