was using for my service at the table. The window was so close to where
I sat, that, by merely rising, I could see Luigi in the street, together
with Pantasilea; and I heard Luigi saying: "Oh, if that devil Benvenuto
only saw us, shouldn't we just catch it!" She answered: "Have no fear;
only listen to the noise they're making; we are the last thing they're
thinking of." At these words, having made them both well out, I leaped
from the window, and took Luigi by the cape; and certainly I should then
have killed him with the knife I held, but that he was riding a white
horse, to which he clapped spurs, leaving his cape in my grasp, in order
to preserve his life. Pantasilea took to her heels in the direction of a
neighbouring church. The company at supper rose immediately, and came
down, entreating me in a body to refrain from putting myself and them to
inconvenience for a strumpet. I told them that I should not have let
myself be moved on her account, but that I was bent on punishing the
infamous young man, who showed how little he regarded me. Accordingly I
would not yield to the remonstrances of those ingenious and worthy men,
but took my sword, and went alone toward Prati:-the house where we were
supping, I should say, stood close to the Castello gate, which led to
Prati. [1] Walking thus upon the road to Prati, I had not gone far
before the sun sank, and I re-entered Rome itself at a slow pace. Night
had fallen; darkness had come on; but the gates of Rome were not yet
shut.

Toward two hours after sunset, I walked along Pantasilea's lodging, with
the intention, if Luigi Pulci were there, of doing something to the
discontent of both. When I heard and saw that no one but a poor
servant-girl called Canida was in the house, I went to put away my cloak
and the scabbard of my sword, and then returned to the house, which
stood behind the Banchi on the river Tiber. Just opposite stretched a
garden belonging to an innkeeper called Romolo. It was enclosed by a