d’Etroit is my mistress. She is my life. She is my blood. When I lust, I lust only for her. When I long to be loved, I long only for her to love me. If I were to live a thousand lives they would each be wiz my petit d’Etroit.
From ze moment we met I fell madly in love wiz her. We spent much time together. There were delightful afternoons flittered away in ze soft warmth of ze sun. There were delicious frolics during ze violet hour, and there were, of course, many dark romps by ze light of ze wolf moon.
d”Etroit was mine and I was surely made only to be hers.
But, d’Etroit is a mercurial sort. She is an unpredictable creature, capable of discovering ze hidden depths of ze soul, playing, toying unmercifully, forcing one to love her before seeking new chivalries.
Why do you torment me so? Can you not see it is I, and I alone, who love you? Come wiz me and I will take you round ze world. Come wiz me and I will make you forget your faux lovers. Embrace me, and tell me that from this moment our love will suffer no other infringere.
At your feet I will worship, my petit d’Etroit, and the chains of my fidelity, intertwined wiz my honour, will offer my ravished heart some whisper of contentment. Please, transport my sadness from having to share you wiz another.
But, who are these interlopers I hear speak of you in such a way? What do they savvy of your virtue? What hint do they possess of your possibility? Away! Away wiz them all, for you are my petit d’Etroit!
Alas! It is not you who have betrayed me but my rivals who have betrayed you. Jealousy speaks many languages and each imposteur wastes little time in foolish attempts to beg me away from your bosom.
Fear not, my petit d’Etroit, for I now know ze truth. It is only I whom you love, and it is only you who receives my essence. We were together in ze beginning, and we will surely die together in ze end.