The speaker addresses a lover directly, promising to resist him until death with a cold body and indrawn breath. She calls herself terrible and cruel, moving with him like a surly tiger, and she hints at a “caged arrogance” inside her. There is pain and power in that admission: she feels shaken, but what he sees is a cold, quivering body he wants to kiss. The mood is tense, almost dangerous intimacy. Her coldness is not emptiness; it is a controlled defiance, and the stillness of the body feels effortful rather than calm. The title’s “quiet” is ironic—she looks passive, but inside she is holding back something fierce. The contradiction between her cold exterior and inner fury makes the moment unsettling. If he truly saw her, she warns, he would not lean in so boyishly, so bold.
The Quiet Woman — Summary
I will defy you down until my death With cold body, indrawn breath; Terrible and cruel I will move with you Like a surly tiger. If you knew Why I am shaken, if fond you could see All the caged arrogance in me, You would not lean so boyishly, so bold, To kiss my body, quivering and cold.