I make you daily write those red cheeks thin,
Load your young brow with what concerns it least,
And, when we visit Florence, let you pace
The Piazza by my side as if we talked,
Where all your old acquaintances may see:
You 'd die for me, I should not be surprised.
Now then!
Sec. Sir, look about and love yourself!
Step after step, the Signory and you
Tread gay till this tremendous point 's to pass;