How perfect the stain and by what strange means
False circumstance did I selfish conspire.
By all manner of ruse and happenings
As to defeat my most heartfelt desire.
Answer me thus and by action explain
What by words I'm unable to discern,
That for love my heart did mocking disdain
As to extinguish the flame that it burned.
We're a curious breed this rabble of men
That we are smitten yet still cannot see,
A time once come will not yet come again
And that all love comes but from constancy.
A stranger to love will know only this
That for a fool there awaits Tosca's kiss
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