An excerpt in The Gentleman’s Magazine in 1835, translated by the excellent Louisa Stuart Costello, for whom the gents very sensibly made an exception:
If I must fly thee, turn away
Those eyes where love is sweetly dwelling,
And bid each charm, each grace decay,
That smile, that voice, all else excelling;
Banish those gentle wiles that won me,
And those soft words which have undone me!
That I may leave without regret
All that I cannot now forget;
That I may leave thee, nor despair
To lose a gem without compare.
Ms Costello observes that Folquet de Marselha was “one of the most furious of the persecutors of the Albigenses”, the “gentil troubadour” who gave us the idea of the Inquisition and who, at the sacking of Beziers, cried: “Kill all! God will know his own!”
(The anagrammatical Floquet was an albino gorilla, not an Albigeois killa. Let’s be clear about that, if nothing else.)
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