Tingoccio was averse to discover it to Meuccio, for that he deemed it an
ignominious thing to love his gossip, and was ashamed to let any one know
it. Meuccio was on his guard for a very different reason, to wit, that he
was already ware that the lady was in Tingoccio's good graces. Wherefore
he said to himself:--If I avow my love to him, he will be jealous of me,
and as, being her gossip, he can speak with her as often as he pleases,
he will do all he can to make her hate me, and so I shall never have any
favour of her.

Now, the two young men being thus, as I have said, on terms of most
familiar friendship, it befell that Tingoccio, being the better able to
open his heart to the lady, did so order his demeanour and discourse that
he had from her all that he desired. Nor was his friend's success hidden
from Meuccio; though, much as it vexed him, yet still cherishing the hope
of eventually attaining his end, and fearing to give Tingoccio occasion
to baulk or hamper him in some way, he feigned to know nought of the
matter. So Tingoccio, more fortunate than his comrade, and rival in love,
did with such assiduity till his gossip's good land that he got thereby a
malady, which in the course of some days waxed so grievous that he
succumbed thereto, and departed this life. And on the night of the third
day after his decease (perchance because earlier he might not) he made
his appearance, according to his promise, in Meuccio's chamber, and
called Meuccio, who was fast asleep, by his name. Whereupon:--"Who art
thou?" quoth Meuccio, as he awoke. "'Tis I, Tingoccio," replied he, "come
back, in fulfilment of the pledge I gave thee, to give thee tidings of
the other world." For a while Meuccio saw him not without terror: then,
his courage reviving:--"Welcome, my brother," quoth he: and proceeded to
ask him if he were lost. "Nought is lost but what is irrecoverable,"
replied Tingoccio: "how then should I be here, if I were lost?" "Nay,"
quoth then Meuccio; "I mean it not so: I would know of thee, whether thou