"He seems to me a god/ that man/ listening to you/ chat sweetly/ and laugh like music,/ scattering my heart// When I look at you, I can't speak./ My tongue breaks/ and my skin is on fire."
"My father or my bethrothed? Love or honor?/ Duty's harsh bonds or the heart's sweet tyranny?/ Either my happiness dies, or my name is ruined;/ One is bitter, the other unthinkable."