ngth,
because of the noise he made, and that she might the better speak her
mind to him, she opened the door, and when he entered, God knows whether
he did not see an angry face, and have a warm greeting. For when her
tongue found words from a heart overcharged with anger and indignation,
her language was as sharp as well-ground Guingant razors.

And, amongst other things, she reproached him that he had wickedly
pretended a journey in order that he might try her, and that he was a
coward and a recreant, unworthy to have such a wife as she was.

Our good comrade, though he had been angry, saw how wrong he had been,
and restrained his wrath, and the indignation that in his heart he had
conceived when he was standing outside the door was turned aside. So he
said, to excuse himself, and to satisfy his wife, that he had returned
from his journey because he had forgotten a letter concerning the object
of his going.

Pretending not to believe him, she invented more stories, and charged
him with having frequented taverns and bagnios, and other improper and
dissolute resorts, and that he behaved as no respectable man should, and
she cursed the hour in which she had made his acquaintance, and doubly
cursed the day she became his wife.

The poor man, much grieved, seeing his wife more troubled than he liked,
knew not what to say. And his suspicions being removed, he drew near
her, weeping and falling upon his knees and made the following fine
speech.

"My most dear companion, and most loyal wife, I beg and pray of you
to remove from your heart the wrath you have conceived against me, and
pardon me for all that I have done against you. I own my fault, I see
my error. I have come now from a place where they made good cheer, and
where, I am ashamed to say, I fancied I recognised you, at which I was
much displeased. And so I wrongfully and causelessly suspected you to be
other than a good woman, of which I now repent bitterly, and pray of you
to forgive me, and pardon my folly."

The good woman, seeing her husband so contrite, showed no great anger.

"What?" said she, "You have come from filthy houses of ill-fame, and you
dare to think that your honest wife would be seen in such places?"

"No, no, my dear, I know you would not. For God's sake, say no more
about it." said the good man, and repeated his aforesaid request.

She, seeing his contrition, ceased her reproaches, and little by little
regained her composure, and with