Three fistfuls of Louis!--"He'd do it," he said.--
A delicate dust, gum, liquid and metal
Crushed, crucibled.... "Stay! tie this mask on your head.
You see, but a grain on your rose's pink petal
Has shriveled and blasted it--look, how it dries!--
A perilous pulver ... could Satan make better?...
To mix with that present of perfumes--she dies,
And who is the wiser? Or, say in a letter
V
"To the husband of her who has smiled on you since
Another grows bald?"--And he poured in a bottle
The subtlety.--"Bah! be he beggar or prince,
If he kiss but the seal the venom will throttle."--
"Well," I thought, "I will test ere I risk." Slyly drew
My dagger; approached to the bandlet, that tightly
Supported his mask, its keen point.... It was true!--
When it cracked he fell dead; he but breathed of it lightly.