I, Beatrice, vow myself against him,
if my vows can be held vouchsafe.
I hate him, as can be proved,
revile the very essence of his being.
I vow I will not stumble
into his tripping traps of spiteful words.
I do ignore with greatest urgency
the overheard speakings of adoration.
I am promised to myself alone
like chaste and lovely moon-Diana.
I hate him, I swear I do,
I hate every word he speaks.
I hereby swear to dodge his grasp,
avoid his sight, and ever sleight his kiss.
I will not succumb to his will,
though lord of land he may be.
I, Beatrice, vow myself against him,
if my vows can be held vouchsafe.
Oh, vouch for me, virgin gods,
as I fear I hate him false.