Truly, I am beginning to think I am a humbug and a dunderhead. Why is that? I quite look forward to my marriage after all. The reason? A letter and a poem I have just received from Wolfie.
Ma Plus Chere Soeur!
Pop goes the weasel! I’d better hurry up and write this letter if it’s to arrive while you are still a vestal virgin! A day or so from now, you’ll lose it! My wife, Constanze and I, your loving brother, congratulate you on what will soon be your TRANSFORMED state!
Marriage brings a flawed bliss
And in the mysteries of this,
The arts of Eve
That gave her Cain
Will bring such joy
As mewling girl or puking boy.
Yet nothing is pure harmony –
The counterpoint we surely know
Is there to stop the sickly flow.
Rejoice when ere your husband says
He’s out of sorts!
Just think sister, this is man’s sports,
And say, why then, YOUR WILL by day
And MINE by night I SORELY pray.
Your devoted, Wolfgangus Amadeo