The sage advice that the three French ladies gave to the two mourners, Constance and Auristella, was of small avail, for in a recent grief there is no room for consolation. In the agony of a sudden disaster we cannot accept at once of any comfort, however wisely it may be administered; a fresh wound is painful till it is closed, and it takes time to heal before it is again opened; therefore, whilst one weeps, whilst one groans, whilst one is under the influence of the grief that causes one's lamentations and sighs, it is not discreet at all to offer remedies. Let us then leave Auristella still to weep, and Constance to lament, and both to shut their ears to all consolation, whilst the fair Clarice relates the cause of her husband's madness.

She told the French ladies, that, before he married her, he was in love with a relation of his own, who had every expectation of marrying him. "My lot seemed to promise fair, only to become the darker in the end," said Clarice; "for Lorena, (so this relation was called,) concealing the anger she felt at our marriage, used to load him with a variety of presents, the most agreeable and pleasing, rather than costly; among which, she sent him once, much as the false Dejanira sent the shirt to Hercules, I say she sent him some shirts of the finest linen and of beautiful workmanship. Scarcely had he put one on, when he became senseless, and for two days lay like a corpse, although we directly took it off, fancying that it had been bewitched by a slave of Lorena's, who was supposed to be a dealer in magic arts. My husband was restored to life, but his mind was so disturbed and upset, that everything he did was like the act of a madman, and not a quiet madman, but so cruel, furious and wild, that it became necessary to chain him; and, to-day, I being in the tower, he contrived to escape from his place of confinement, and flung me through the upper windows, but I was preserved by my wide garments, which bore me up, or rather, I ought to say, by the mercy of God, who protects the innocent." Then she told how the pilgrim had gone up into the tower to the assistance of another woman, one of her attendants, whom he was also trying to throw over, and with her were two little children whom he wished to strangle, but that the event was that the count and the pilgrim had been dashed down from the tower to the ground below, the count, wounded mortally, and the pilgrim having a knife in his hand, which it appeared he had wrested from the madman, his wound was such that it needed not the fall to kill him, the wound was enough in itself.

Meantime, Periander still lay senseless on the bed where they had placed him, and where the surgeons came to see him and set the dislocated bones. They gave him medicines proper for his case, felt his pulse, and, by degrees, he came a little to himself, and knew some of the persons who stood round him, especially Auristella, to whom, in a scarcely audible voice, he said, "Sister, I die in the holy Catholic faith, and I die loving you." He could say no more, and did not speak again at that time. They bled Antonio, and the surgeons having examined his wound, demanded a reward for the good news they were able to give his sister, that it was deep, but not mortal, and that they would promise to cure him by the help of heaven. Felicia Flora rewarded them handsomely first, and Constance afterwards; and the surgeons, not to be over scrupulous, took it from both.

It took a month and rather more for the invalids to be cured: the French ladies would not hear of leaving them, so great a friendship had sprung up between them and Auristella, and Constance and ............