ought that the Duke was out of his mind; but, having thus worked his
will, he brought all his retainers together in the hall and told them
the virtuous and pitiful story of his niece, and the evil that his wife
had wrought her. And those who were present wept whilst they listened.

Then the Duke ordered that his wife should be buried in an abbey which
he founded partly to atone for the sin that he had committed in killing
her; and he caused a beautiful tomb to be built, in which the bodies of
his niece and the gentleman were laid together, with an epitaph setting
forth their tragic story. And the Duke undertook an expedition against
the Turks, in which God so favoured him, that he brought back both
honour and profit. On his return, he found his eldest son now able to
govern his possessions, and so left all to him, and went and became a
monk in the abbey where his wife and the two lovers were buried. And
there did he spend his old age happily with God.

"Such, ladies, is the story which you begged me to relate, and which,
as I can see from your eyes, you have not heard without compassion. It
seems to me that you should take example by it, and beware of placing
your affections upon men; for, however honourable or virtuous these
affections may be, in the end they have always an aftertaste of evil.
You see how St. Paul would not that even married people should so
deeply love each other; (4) for the more our hearts are set upon earthly
things, the more remote are they from heavenly affection, and the harder
is the tie to be broken. I therefore pray you, ladies, ask God for His
Holy Spirit, who will so fire your hearts with the love of God, that
when death comes, you will not be pained at leaving that which you love
too well in this world."

4 I _Corinthians_ vii. 32-5.--M.

"If their love," said Geburon, "was as honourable as you describe, why
was it needful to keep it so secret?"

"Because," said Parlamente, "the wickedness of men is so great, that
they can never believe deep love to be allied with honour, but judge
men and women to be wicked according to their own passions. Hence, if a
woman has a dear friend other than one of her nearest kinsfolk, she must
speak with him in secret if she would speak long with him; for a woman's
honour is attacked, whether she love virtuously or viciously, since
people judge only from appearances."

"But," said Geburon, "when a secret of that kind is revealed, people
think far