Cesare, poi che’l traditor d’Egitto
Li fece il don dell’ onorata testa,
Celando l’allegrezza manifesta,
Pianse per gli occhi fuoor, siccome e scritto.

Ed Annibal, quand’ all imperio afflitto
Vide farsi fortuna si molesta,
Rise fra gente lagrimosa e mesta,
Per isfogare il suo acerbo despitto:

E cosi avven, che l' animo ciascuna
Sua passion sotto ‘l contrario manto
Ricopre con la vista or chiara or bruna.

Pero, s’ alcuna volta i’rido o canto,
Facciol perch’ io non ho se non quest’una
Via da celare il mio angoscioso pianto.

When Caesar saw before him, by Egypt’s traitor smitten,
The head of Pompey in its blood congealing
He turned his face ( his secret joy concealing)
And wept his eyes out—thus ‘tis written.

And Hannibal, from fallen Carthage flitting,
In far-off lands beheld his fortunes weary,
Made laughter among peoples sad and dreary,—
Burning his grief with bravery befitting.

Thus still, beneath a mantled face contrary,
Each human spirit hides its secret passion,
And outer joy with inner grief may vary;—
So I, who laugh and sing in tender fashion:—
I know no other way but making merry
To hide the piteous anguish of my station.