Either your blood or my love
He demanded: my entreaties and my tears were useless.
Wild with horror, I appealed in vain
To the Madonna and the Saints.
The damnable monster told me
That already the gallows
Stretched their arms skyward!
The drums rolled and
He laughed, the evil monster, laughed,
Ready to spring and carry off his prey!
Is it yes? He asked, and yes, I promised
Myself to his lust. But there at hand
A sharp blade glittered:
He wrote out the liberating pass,
And came to claim the horrible embrace -
That pointed blade I planted in his heart.

Tosca, Act III