Deep lamenting, grief, bewraying; Poor Amintas thus sat saying: Glut now thine eyes full, while I lie here a dying; killed with disdain, alas, and pity crying; Now, mayst thou laugh full merrily; for dead lo is the man, dead is thy mortal enemy. O no, weep not, I cannot bide this blindness; All too late now God wot, all too late comes this kindness. But if you would that death should, death of life, of life should deprive me; Weep not alas lest you revive me, weep not lest you thereby revive me. Ah cease to bewail me, my life now doth fail me.