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Las! ô pauvre Didon contre amour qui fostine, Furieux dans ton coeur ne scauroit on trouver Quelque piteux secours qui te puisse sauver Des assaus de la mort ja preste à ta ruine: Laisse laisse forcer les flotz de la marine A ce traistre cruel. Ha, te veux je priver Encore de tout espoir, et toy-mesme grever D’un fort glaive enfonçant ton indigne poitrine. S’il te laisse pourtant il n’eschapera pas La vengeance des dieux qui talonne ses pas. He voy avec ta seur, ta tumbante Cartage. Ne croy helas ne croy cest amour desraiglé Qui te force le sens car il est aveuglé Et ne trompe ton mal par un plus grand dommage.
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This text was added to the website: 2019-10-30
Line count: 14
Word count: 114
Alas, poor Dido, you rage against love Furiously; no-one could hope to find in your heart Any pity to assist in saving you From the attacks of death, now ready to ruin you. Leave, yes leave that cruel traitor to storm The waves of the sea! Yes, I would take away from you All hope, and burden you With a strong sword driven into your unworthy heart. If he leaves you, yet he won’t escape The vengeance of the gods who hound his steps. Watch with your sister as your Carthage falls. But do not believe that love goes unpunished Which overwhelms your senses, for he too is blinded, And do not betray your wrongs with a greater sin.
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This text was added to the website: 2019-10-30
Line count: 14
Word count: 119
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