The hollow splendour of death !
This sham of grief preserves
my name and likeness, and yet flatters
the pride of the haughty victor !
You say that I am dead,
but my grief replies that it is not so.
(reading the inscription:)
'Bertarido was king. Defeated by Grimoaldo,
he fled and now lies near the Huns.
May his soul find rest and his ashes peace.'
Peace for my ashes ? The tyranny of fortune !
So long as I live
I shall be fighting hardship and distress.
Where are you, my beloved ?
Come and comfort my heart.
I am stricken with anguish
and only by your side
can my cruel sorrow be lightened
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