Dora Williams

 When Reuben Pantier ran away and threw me
I went to Springfield.
 There I met a lush,
Whose father just deceased left him a fortune.

He married me when drunk.
 My life was wretched.

A year passed and one day they found him dead.

That made me rich.
 I moved on to Chicago.

After a time met Tyler Rountree, villain.

I moved on to New York.
 A gray-haired magnate
Went mad about me -- so another fortune.

He died one night right in my arms, you know.

(I saw his purple face for years thereafter.
)
There was almost a scandal.
 I moved on,
This time to Paris.
 I was now a woman,
Insidious, subtle, versed in the world and rich.

My sweet apartment near the Champs Élysées
Became a center for all sorts of people,
Musicians, poets, dandies, artists, nobles,
Where we spoke French and German, Italian, English.

I wed Count Navigato, native of Genoa.

We went to Rome.
 He poisoned me, I think.

Now in the Campo Santo overlooking
The sea where young Columbus dreamed new worlds,
See what they chiseled: "Contessa Navigato
Implora eterna quiete.
"

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