Page:Ballads of a Bohemian.djvu/114

112 They turned, who heard my voiceless cry, “For Sale, a virgin, who will buy?” And so myself I fiercely sold, And clutched the price, a piece of gold. Into a pharmacy I pressed; I took the paper from my breast. I gave my money… how it gleamed! How precious to my eyes it seemed! And then I saw the chemist frown, Quick on the counter throw it down, Shake with an angry look his head: “Your louis d’or is bad,” he said.

Dazed, crushed, I went into the night, I clutched my gleaming coin so tight. No, no, I could not well believe That any one could so deceive. I tried again and yet again– Contempt, suspicion and disdain; Always the same reply I had: “Get out of this. Your money’s bad.”

Heart broken to the room I crept, To mother’s side. All still… she slept… I bent, I sought to raise her head… “Oh, God, have pity!” she was dead.

That’s how it all began. Said I: Revenge is sweet. So in my guilty span I’ve ruined many a man.