These are just the charms, lures and bait Of her fair eyes which attract me into her trap Whether she smiles, or whether she measures Her steps to the sound of a lute. Midnight has not so many torches Nor does so much sand flow through the straits at Euripus As she has beauties to enhance her grace For her I endure a thousand deaths. But the torture which dessicates my life Is so pleasant that I have no desire To part from this sweet idleness. But through Love, when dead I will still have The bitter-sweetness of love’s wound Which living I preserve in the stone which is my heart. The Euripus strait is the one between the Greek island of Euboea (Evvoia) and the mainland at Boeotia, which narrows to only a few tens of metres at Chalcis. Blanchemain offers a couple of alternatives: in line 9 “moissonne” for “desseche” – ‘But the torture which my life reaps as reward /Is so pleasant…’; and then the final line which becomes “Que vif je porte au plus beau de mon cœur” (‘Which living I bear as the best thing in my heart’).