Betrayal and Disappointment

And still she cried, and still the world pursues,

In friendship false, implacable in hate:

John Donne, Anne Donne, Un-done.

Barkis is willin’.

A little still she strove, and much repented,

Just for a handful of silver he left us,

Those have most power to hurt us that we love.

From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents.—Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr Collins, and I will never see you again if you do.

The moment there is suspicion about a person’s motives, everything he does becomes tainted.

You got a lot of nerve To say you are my friend When I was down You just stood there grinning.

They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you.

withdrew into a corner of the gorgeous room and one told the other a lie.

Simple and faithless as a smile and shake of the hand.

No memory of having starred Atones for later disregard, Or keeps the end from being hard. Better to go down dignified With boughten friendship by your side Than none at all. Provide, provide!

And many a poor man that has roved, Loved and thought himself beloved, From a glad kindness cannot take his eyes.

Why, what could she have done, being what she is? Was there another Troy for her to burn?

Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Yet each man kills the thing he loves, By each let this be heard, Some do it with a bitter look, Some with a flattering word. The coward does it with a kiss, The brave man with a sword!

Not with a Club, the Heart is broken Nor with a Stone— A Whip so small you could not see it I’ve known To lash the Magic Creature Till it fell.

No villain need be! Passions spin the plot: We are betrayed by what is false within.

We that had loved him so, followed him, honored him, Lived in his mild and magnificent eye, Learned his great language, caught his clear accents, Made him our pattern to live and to die!

Just for a handful of silver he left us, Just for a riband to stick in his coat.

Is always so to women; one sole bond Awaits them, treachery is all their trust; Taught to conceal, their bursting hearts despond Over their idol, till some wealthier lust Buys them in marriage—and what rests beyond? A thankless husband, next a faithless lover, Then dressing, nursing, praying, and all’s over.

A little still she strove, and much repented, And whispering “I will ne’er consent”—consented.