Sonnet CXXXIX
SONNET CXXXIX.
O Invidia, nemica di virtute.
ENVY MAY DISTURB, BUT CANNOT DESTROY HIS HOPE.
O deadly Envy, virtue's constant foe,With good and lovely eager to contest!Stealthily, by what way, in that fair breastHast entrance found? by what arts changed it so?Thence by the roots my weal hast thou uptorn,Too blest in love hast shown me to that fairWho welcomed once my chaste and humble prayer,But seems to treat me now with hate and scorn.But though you may by acts severe and illSigh at my good and smile at my distress,You cannot change for me a single thought.Not though a thousand times each day she kill[Pg 162]Can I or hope in her or love her less.For though she scare, Love confidence has taught.
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