No! A grown woman like you should know better.
Why did you pick up that heavy, poison thing?
Lay it down, Child! You hear me?
That jealous spirit, that weight of grass-green envy,
Will be the death of you!
Oh, now I see its brother sin of pride flashing in your eyes.
Don't tell me that's healthy, lawful self-respect
That holds self to a high standard of conduct.
No. That's base and filthy self-idolatry in your glare.
Lay that arrogance down. Do as I say!
All right, then. Do what you will.
Carry those two vile weights.
Nurture those dangerous seeds. But be prepared
To feel the root of bitterness sink deep into your heart
Until you are destroyed and all friends are pushed away.
You're a grown woman, and you'll do what you will.
Still my advice is to lay it down, Child! Lay it down.