So a maiden, whilst she remains untouched, so long is she dear to her own; when she has lost her chaste flower with sullied body, she remains neither lovely to boys nor dear to girls.

I hate and love. You ask, perhaps, how can that be? I know not, but I feel the agony.

But you shall not escape my iambics.

There is nothing more foolish than a foolish laugh. Risu inepto res ineptior nulla est

To whom do I give my new elegant little book? Cui dono lepidum novum libellum?

I hate and I love. And if you ask me how, I do not know: I only feel it, and I am torn in two.

So a maiden, whilst she remains untouched, so long is she dear to her own; when she has lost her chaste flower with sullied body, she remains neither lovely to boys nor dear to girls.