TO HIS EXCELLENCY THE CONDE-DUQUE

I find I'm in the chapel and condemned
to pass from life with no hope of relief.
I rue the cause more, even, than departure,
by hunger exiled like a man besieged.

The fault is in my being so unlucky;
in my timidity, fault greater yet.
I blame myself for both as I embark,
and I will leave at least having confessed.

May the sharp steel blade adjudge my fate,
which, though it's fine edge nears, still I may see
exalted mercy from your noble hand.

Since I have told you nothing of my shame,
I'll let the lines, sir, of this sonnet be
my tongue and tears and not a vain demand.