CHORRA.

For being kind, you plunged me into poverty, you left me penniless, you stole even the color from my face. In six months you swallowed up my little shop, the market stall, the meat hooks, the counter... Thief!... You even stole my love... Now a woman scares me so much that if one flirts with me in the street, I stand beside a cop.

What makes me angriest is having been such a fool!

If a month ago I'd found out what I learned yesterday, your womanly schemes wouldn't have caught me... Today I learn that your mother, “a warrior's noble widow”, is the most notorious thief ever to set foot in the thirty-third precinct! And I've learned that the “warrior” who died covered in honor neither died nor was a warrior, as you fooled me into believing. He's in jail with a criminal record, a member of the Camorra, a master of the club, a scoundrel and a swindler!

Between you all, you fleeced me down to nothing; your figure was the bait on which I got myself hooked. You swallowed up— you, “the widow” and “the warrior”— what cost me ten years of patience and hard work...

Thieves! You, your mother and your dad! Watch out! Be careful, she's on the loose; if she catches you, she'll clean you out before you've time to run.

What makes me angriest is having been such a fool!