I wonder, does this mean a thing to you,
Beyond the Mother of God? Oh you battled
For centuries over if she did or didn't, true
Locker room talk for a band of rattled
Clerics. Was it any of your business, b@st@rds?
She bore our Saviour, and I could not give two
Figs for perpetuity, but you do. So, costards,
Wherefore this misprision, as you know you do,
Of this, my chastity, and thus of all the women
Of our congregation? My choice, vocation, right
Is to let no man sully this house of mine, so sin
You by casting there my freedom in the fight
Against the wolves, appeasing the hunger of an ancient god,
He who moves the blood of man, sacrifice me, why don't you?
You want to talk continence? I'll give you that, you ill-shod,
Misbegotten, and untried fools. Do as you preach, not as you do,
And talk not about what happens behind the altar.
Just locker room talk. Boys will be boys. Read the psalter,
Girls, you must be silent. Be chaste, and if you can't,
Be silent. It's not that you can't, it's only that you won't.