Never change when love has found its home.
Something greater than the Iliad now springs to birth -Nescio quid maius nascitur Iliade
No rival will steal away my sure love; that glory will be my gray hair.
That death is best which comes appropriately at a ripe age.
Faith is not sure, if you cannot turn love to quarrel; may my enemies obtain a mild mistress.
And nobility will not be able to help you with your love; Love does not know how to cede to ancestral images.