Canción

^{translated by Peter Anthony Motteux}

What makes me languish and complain?––Oh, ’tis disdain!
What yet more fiercely tortures me?––’Tis jealousy.
How have I patience lost?––By absence crossed.
Then hopes farewell, there’s no relief;
I sink beneath oppressing grief;
Nor can a wretch, without despair,
Scorn, jealousy, and absence bear.

What in my breast, this anguish drove?––Intruding love.
What could such mighty ills create?––Blind fortune’s hate.
What cruel powers my fate approve?––The powers above.
Then let me bear and cease to moan;
’Tis glorious thus to be undone;
When these invade, who dares oppose?
Heaven, love, and fortune are my foes. What shall I find a speedy cure?––Death is sure.
No milder means to set me free?––Inconstancy.
Can nothing else my pains assuage?––Distracting age.

What! die or change? ––Lucinda lose?––
Oh, let me rather madness choose!
But judge, ye gods, what we endure
When death or madness is the cure!