58. ‘La guancia che fu già piangendo stancha’

My dear lord, rest that cheek of yours

already tired with weeping, on my first gift,

be more careful of yourself with that cruel one

who makes pallid all those who follow him.

With the second, block with your left hand

the path that his messengers pass along,

appear the same in August as January,

so as not to lose your time on the long road.

And drink a herbal mixture from the third,

to purge away all thought that pains the heart,

sweet at the last, though the start is bitter.

Keep me where all your pleasures are stored,

so I will not fear the Stygian ferryman,

if the request I make does not seem proud.

Note: Sent to Agapito Colonna, Bishop of Luni with the gifts presumably of a pillow, book, and cup. The poem has indeed evaded Charon so far.

‘Wealth is Useless After Death’ - Philips Galle, Hadrianus Junius, 1563, The Rijksmuseum