that everything in the palace had been set in order for their
reception, the ladies and their cavaliers took a walk in the garden, and
diverted themselves by singing love-songs, and weaving garlands of
flowers. At three o'clock, dinner was laid in the banqueting hall, and
when this was over, Dioneo took a lute and Fiammetta a viol, and played
a merry air, while the rest of the company danced to the music. When the
dance was ended, they began to sing, and so continued dancing and
singing until nightfall. The cavaliers then retired to their chambers,
and the ladies to theirs, after arranging that Pampinea should be the
queen of their company for the following day, and direct all their
feasts and amusements.

The next morning Queen Pampinea called them all up at nine o'clock,
saying it was unwholesome to sleep in the daytime, and led them into a
meadow of deep grass shadowed by tall trees.

"As the sun is high and hot," she continued, "and nothing is to be heard
but the chirping of grasshoppers among the olives, it would be folly to
think of walking. So let us sit down in a circle and tell stories. By
the time the tales have gone round, the heat of the sun will have
abated, and we can then divert ourselves as best we like. Now, Pamfilo,"
she said, turning to the cavalier on her right hand, "pray begin."

_Cymon and Iphigenia: A Tale of Love_

Of all the stories that have come into my mind, said Pamfilo, there is
one which I am sure you will all like, for it shows how strange and
wonderful is the power of love. Some time ago, there lived in the island
of Cyprus a man of great rank and wealth, called Aristippus, who was
very unhappy because his son Cymon, though very tall and handsome, was
feeble in intellect. Finding that the most skilful teacher could not
beat the least spark of knowledge into the head of his son, Aristippus
made Cymon live out of his sight, among the slaves in his country-house.

There Cymon used to drudge like one of the slaves, whom, indeed, he
resembled in the harshness of his voice and the uncouthness of his
manners. But one day as he was tramping round the farm, with his staff
upon his shoulder, he came upon a beautiful maiden sleeping in the deep
grass of a meadow, with two women and a manservant slumbering at her
feet. Cymon had never seen the face of a woman before, and, leaning upon
his staff, he gazed in blank wonder at the lovely girl, and strange
thoughts and feelings began to work wi