Of countless charms thy mind and body show so!

Or him, now famous grown⁠—thou mad’st him grow so⁠—

Thy knight, in some dread combat could I see!

Oh, could I be released from Amadís

By exercise of such coy chastity

As led thee gentle Quixote to dismiss!

Then would my heavy sorrow turn to joy;

None would I envy, all would envy me,