And to play with him the flighty wife was fated
In the famed duet to KREUTZEE dedicated.

The husband who perceived things were not right,
Home suddenly returned at dead of night.
His boots he'd taken off;
He was careful not to cough;
And his plans so well were woven,
That they still performed Beethoven.
But, neither being deaf,
They at last heard _Pozdnisheff_.
Poor wife! He so affrights her,
That she plays no more the _Kreutzer_.

If on each foot he'd had a slipper
To Troukachevsky (who was saved)
The husband would have p'rhaps behaved
Much in the style of Jack the Ripper.
He put to flight the dilettante
(Who hadn't finished half the _andante_),
But feared the servants' mockings
Should they see him in his stockings,
Racing along the corridor:--
Not that he thought it horrid, or
Harsh to transfix him with a dagger,
(He could not bear the fiddler's swagger),
But felt quite sure so droll a figure
Would make his rude domestics snigger.

And now his wife cries out for mercy