Ah, cruel Amarillis, since thou tak'st delight

Ah, cruel Amarillis, since thou tak'st delight

To here the accents of a doleful ditty,

To triumph still without remorse or pity,

I loathe this life, Death must my sorrows right.

And, lest vain hope my miseries renew,

Come quickly Death,

Reave me of breath.

Ah, cruel Amarillis, adieu, adieu.