Print made by Léon Davent
After Francesco Primaticcio
Date 1540-1545

The British Museum

Pricked to the quick by conscience,

And loathing my little worth,

I know of no art or proper science

That might keep me from self-hurt,

This grief so sharp, so oddly angry

I cower at every blow of hope.

If only, out of pity, she would play

My dittany, Artemis to my Stag,

And wrench the arrow from this wound

That bathes my burning pain in blood.

— Maurice Sceve, translated by Richard Sieburth