Who dost thou think thou art?

I know what thou art.

Wretched harlot,

Filthy wench!

The snake that seeks the affections of my lover.

Ye shall writhe and coil in my clinched fists!

Do thou know not who I am?

I am his maiden, his wife,

The one who dotes upon him,

Who suckles his beloved son!

Thou shall not dethrone me,

For I am not like the wives,

Whose husbands you cheat from them.

For I lavish my husband with affection,

And adorn him with praises.

No, I am not the careless wife,

Who knows not her husband.

For I please him well and often,

So that wenches like thine-self stand no chance.

Dost thou honestly think I shall allow thine treachery?

Slither along wench.

Thou shall not ensnare my love.