The which from out my bosom day nor night
Ne’er, as with other ladies, fierce and wild,
Storm up; nay, thence they issue warm and mild
And straight betake them to my loved one’s sight,
Who, hearing, moveth of himself, delight
To give me; ay, and when I’m like to say
“Ah come, lest I despair,” still cometh he.
Again, on the tenth day, Fiammetta sings:
If love came but withouten jealousy,
I know no lady born