him the soundest rating that ever was bestowed upon
caitiff, concluded as follows:—“This
once we pardon thee, witting thee to be a drunken
knave—but as thou holdest thy life dear,
have a care that henceforth we hear no such tales
of thee; for rest assured that if aught of the kind
do reach our ears, we will requite thee for both turns.”
Which said, they departed. Arriguccio, standing
there like one dazed, not witting whether his late
doings were actual fact or but a dream, made no more
words about the matter, but left his wife in peace.
Thus did she by her address not only escape imminent
peril, but open a way whereby in time to come she
was able to gratify her passion to the full without
any farther fear of her husband.
— Lydia, wife of Nicostratus, loves Pyrrhus,
who to assure himself thereof, asks three things of
her, all of which she does, and therewithal enjoys
him in presence of Nicostratus, and makes Nicostratus
believe that what he saw was not real. —
So diverting did the ladies find Neifile’s story
that it kept them still laughing and talking, though
the king, having bidden Pamfilo tell his story, had
several times enjoined silence upon them. However,
as soon as they had done, Pamfilo thus began:—Methinks,
worshipful ladies, there is no venture, though fraught
with gravest peril, that whoso loves ardently will
not make: of which truth, exemplified though it
has been in stories not a few, I purpose to afford
you yet more signal proof in one which I shall tell
you; wherein you will hear of a lady who in her enterprises
owed far more to the favour of Fortune than to the
guidance of reason: wherefore I should not advise
any of you rashly to follow in her footsteps, seeing
that Fortune is not always in a kindly mood, nor are
the eyes of all men equally holden.
In Argos, that most ancient city of Achaia, the fame
of whose kings of old time is out of all proportion
to its size, there dwelt of yore Nicostratus, a nobleman,
to whom, when he was already verging on old age, Fortune
gave to wife a great lady, Lydia by name, whose courage
matched her charms. Nicostratus, as suited with
his rank and wealth, kept not a few retainers and
hounds and hawks, and was mightily addicted to the
chase. Among his dependants was a young man named
Pyrrhus, a gallant of no mean accomplishment, and
goodly of person and beloved and trusted by Nicostratus
above all other. Of whom Lydia grew mighty enamoured,
insomuch that neither by day nor by night might her
thoughts stray from him: but, whether it was
that Pyrrhus wist not her love, or would have none
of it, he gave no sign of recognition; whereby the
lady’s suffering waxing more than she could
bear, she made up her mind to declare her love to
him; and having a chambermaid, Lusca by name, in whom
she placed great trust, she called her, and said:—“Lusca,
tokens thou hast had from me of my regard that should
