By dying I wanted to maintain my honor, and hide a flame so black from the daylight!
The glory of my name increases my shame. Less known by mortals, I could better escape their eyes.
There may be guilt when there is too much virtue.
When I'm carried away, isn't it clear that my heart contradicts my mouth?
Hell, covering all with its gloomy vapors, has cast shadows on even the holiest eyes.
The faith that acts not, is it truly faith?