e fairy, who looked so lovely that she shot
hearts like a sprite and drew souls like a windlass.

Then all who sat at table, beginning with the King, said, one that he
deserved the gallows, another that he merited the wheel, a third the
pincers, a fourth to be thrown from a precipice; in short one proposed
this punishment and another that. At last it came to the turn of the
seven wicked women to speak, who, although they did not much relish
this conversation, yet, as the truth comes out when the wine goes
about, answered, that whoever had the heart basely to touch only this
quintessence of the charms of love deserved to be buried alive in a
dungeon.

"As you have pronounced this sentence with your own lips," said the
Prince, "you have yourselves judged the cause, you have yourselves
signed the decree. It remains for me to cause your order to be
executed, since it is you who with the heart of a negro, with the
cruelty of Medea, made a fritter of this beautiful head, and chopped up
these lovely limbs like sausage-meat. So quick, make haste, lose not a
moment! throw them this very instant into a large dungeon, where they
shall end their days miserably."

So this order was instantly carried into execution. The Prince married
the youngest sister of these wicked creatures to the chamberlain, and
gave her a good portion. And giving also to the father and mother of
the myrtle wherewithal to live comfortably, he himself spent his days
happily with the fairy; while the wicked women ended their lives in
bitter anguish, and thus verified the proverb of the wise men of old--

"The lame goat will hop
If he meets with no stop."

III

PERUONTO

A good deed is never lost. He who sows courtesy reaps benefit; and he
who gathers kindness gathers love. Pleasure bestowed on a grateful mind
was never barren, but always brings a good recompense; and that is the
moral of the story I am going to tell you.

Once upon a time a woman who lived in a village, and was called
Ceccarella, had a son named Peruonto, who was one of the most stupid
lads that ever was born. This made his mother very unhappy, and all day
long she would grieve because of this great misfortune. For whether she
asked him kindly, or stormed at him till her throat was dry, the
foolish fellow would not stir to do the slightest hand's turn for her.
At last, after a thousand dinnings at his brain, and a thousand
splittings of his head, and saying "I tell you"