To heaven she vowed herself, and yearned。，
Have a devil for the weak.。，In the earth a furnace-bed:
And bid cold ladies melt.。，XI
Her lips were locked, her arms were crossed,。，Thus He felt, and thus I am
。，From wine-cups overproved.
We master her by craft!。，
。，Humbly, when my lord it pleaseth,
Across the flowering night,。，XVII
XXIII。，Never nature cherished woman:
。，Who for one virtue die,
Seemed a very gift from heaven。，His counsel could not share.
Around that scroll Count Louis' fate。，
。，Was acted to her stare,
Earth into its graves, and fear!。，
，XI。，Devoutly to befriend.