Don’t scold me, ladies, if I have loved,
if I have felt a thousand burning fires,
a thousand pains, a thousand unfulfilled desires,
if, weeping, I have thus my time consumed.
Let me not be blackened by your blame.
If I have failed, I have my punishment,
Don’t deepen wounds already violent.
Remember that Love, above all else,
could make you fall in love, if he but wished,
without Vulcan’s ardour to excuse,
without Adonis’ beauty to accuse.
And with occasion less than mine
and yet a passion stranger and as deep,
take care: your eyes still more than mine may weep.


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