When my Becchina’s vexed and in a state, Then even if I had a lion’s heart, I tremble like a schoolboy when he starts To know the teacher’s cane and fear its weight. I’d rather not be born than aggravate My soul with such a life of sore affliction: I curse the hour with every malediction That preordained me to my present fate. I’d let the Devil take me, and declare It well worthwhile, if thus I found a way To snap my fingers at her angry mood. But should that not suffice, then now I swear To one and all that I intend to slay Myself, and prove my courage unsubdued.
translated by: C.H. Scott and Anthony Mortimer