Venus: My voice will not cease
from sweet blandishments and prayers
until the wild spirit
of the dread king yields to your wish.

Cupid: Stop, mother; do not plant your fine foot
on the shady dominion
lest its totally black air
stain the whiteness of your beauty.
I alone will enter this gloomy place
and will ask the great king to come forth.

Venus: Go then, as you wish.
I shall wait for my tactful child.

Venus: Hear me, ladies; hear these sayings
of heavenly speech, and remember them.
The enemy of love with cruel feelings
will arm the heart in the flower of youth.

She will suffer burning and torment
when she has lost her grace and beauty,
and in vain will resort in her tardy repentance
to the illusory aid of cosmetics.

Pluto: Fair mother of Cupid, whose pretty brow
makes hell shine clear and pure,
what fate, what plan
has brought you from heaven to this dark abyss?

Venus: You who of the countless dead
are the fearful king, from the bright sky
I have been drawn to this horror by maternal zeal.
Know that, little by little,
my only son, armed with bow and arrows,
has found his darts scorned.

Pluto: Who has usurped the power of the golden arrows
which time and time again
pierced the heart of the immortal thunderer?

Venus: Ladies who in beauty and pride
eclipse the glory and splendour of dawn.
There, in noble Mantua,
they are armed with such harshness
that Cupid’s golden arrows and torch of fire
are treated as a joke.

Pluto: It is wrong to scorn the torch and arrow of Love.
Earth, sea, hell and heaven know it.

Venus: No. Even of the most faithful lovers
they ignore the voices and complaints.
Love, constancy and fidelity
cannot find even a shadow of mercy.
This one laughingly tells of another’s suffering;
that one only enjoys her beauty
when she draws from a heart tears and sighs.
In vain the gentle warrior
moves in the field of honour with grace and pride.
In vain the noble mind ornaments with eternal odes
a beauty who neither hears nor approves.
O barbarous pride, O heart of tiger and serpent,
which can gaze without grief
at a faithful lover pouring forth tears and blood.
Neither for his own glory nor another’s revenge
can Cupid find an arrow in his quiver.

Pluto: If in vain you draw on your bow
the powerful arrows, Cupid.
what can you hope, what help can you expect?

Cupid: Out from the dark caverns
where they weep in vain, bereft of hope,
bring out, my lord, the impious and cruel ladies.
Let every proud soul on the Mincio see
to what martyrdom cruel beauty must submit.

Pluto: What are you asking, Cupid?
Does Cupid not know that from the deep prison
there is no path back to the world?

Cupid: I know that from low Hell
the way to the heaven is closed;
but who can oppose your eternal power?

Pluto: Wise is the lord who is sparing of his power.

Venus: Then do you not remember
that beautiful Proserpina to gather flowers
was led on the mountain of eternal fire?
Ah, for those happy pleasures,
ah, for those sweet loves
let the world see the sad shades.

Pluto: Too, too powerful, fair mother of Love,
do the barbs of your prayer reach my heart.
Hear, hear, O court of Hell,
cruel ministers, hear!

Shades from the Inferno: What do you wish? What is your command?

Pluto: Open the shadowy gates
of the misty, black prison
and bring the condemned troop
of ungrateful souls.

Venus: Not without the pleasure
of the magnanimous king
can your foot step under my wonderful roof.
Built by outstanding workmen
this is an astounding work;
how you will admire the marble friezes.
Shining bright with purple and gold
are the proud walls,
and by the skill of a Daedalus
you can see through the gilded beams
crests and trophies of countless ancestors.
No less wonderful to strike your eyes
are the crowded theatres and scenes,
scorning Rome and learned Athens.

Cupid and Venus: See coming to us the sad company,
O wretched women, of these unhappy souls.
O sight too dark, O wretched women,
you would have been happy if fate had let you
be less cruel and harsh or less fair and beautiful!

Pluto: Return to the clear sky, heavenly Gods.
Come with me, rebels against love.
I do not come from the gloomy horror of my great kingdom,
(banish fear, ladies, from your gentle breasts)
burning with a new flame, to the clear sky
to snatch a lady or girl.

As when a heart wounded by your beauty
languishes eternally,
Pluto himself dares not upset
the pleasing face of such a queen.

Lady, for your noble locks no humble ornament
save one made by heaven from the eternal stars.
Your virtuous soul and golden apparel
are models for monarchs and kings.

Cupid has just come down to my dark kingdom
to ask me to bring out
those unfortunates who in continual weeping
grieve in vain that they were not wise.

A cave is down there, deprived of light and air,
where thick smoke whirls the whole time.
There too late repenting her foolish error
the ungrateful soul who held each lover at a distance.
I bring them thence and show them,
pale-faced with eyes full of tears,
for if you change your wishes and plans
you need not weep in the dark cloister.

Consider the fear of eternal sorrow
if sighing and prayers have no power over you.
But what blind reason makes you deny
that which in the end the years will take away?

It is no fruit to store away for ever,
mark my words, mortal beauties.

But here you can stay no longer, ungrateful spirits;
return to weep in the infernal kingdom.
Return to the black cloister, unfortunate spirits;
return to where your mistakes have taken you.

Ungrateful Lady: Ah, too, too harsh.
Cruel sentence and too cruel punishment,
to return to weep in the dark cave!

Air serene and pure,
farewell for ever, farewell.
O heaven, O sun; farewell, bright stars.
Learn pity, ladies and girls.

Four Ingrates: Learn pity, ladies and girls.

Ungrateful Lady: To the smoke, to the groans, to the tears,
to eternal torment;
ah, where are the glories or the lovers,
where, where are they going,
the ladies who were so esteemed in the world?
Air serene and pure …

Four Ingrates: Learn pity, ladies and girls.

English: Clifford Bartlett © 1991