Always in absent lovers love's tide flows stronger.

Do not unto another that which you would not he should do unto you.

Every man now worships gold, all other reverence being done away.

And nobility will not be able to help you with your love; Love does not know how to cede to ancestral images.

There is something beyond the grave; death does not end all, and the pale ghost escapes from the vanquished pyre.

Faith is not sure, if you cannot turn love to quarrel; may my enemies obtain a mild mistress.

Allow me, whom Fortune always desires to bury, lay down my life in these final trivialities. Many have freely died in longlasting loves, among whose number may the earth cover me as well.