WHEREIN THE ACCUSES LAURA'S EYES OF KEEPING HIM ALIVE ONLY TO TORTURE HIM

As soon as the good bowman slacks his bow,
From far off he discerns which arrow flies
Wide of the mark — a shot he must despise —
And which to its intended point will go:
Even so, my Lady, your eyes struck, even so
You felt, surely you felt your piercing eyes
Plunge deep into my life: from which must rise
In tears the heart's eternal overflow.
And sure am I that even then you said:
" Unhappy lover, to what shall passion lead?
Here is the shaft by which Love smites him dead! "
But seeing now how sorrow rules indeed,
That which mine enemies, your eyes, plot still,
Is not my death, but darker deeper ill.