thick hedge of thorns, in which I hid myself, standing upright, and
waiting till the woman came back with Luigi. After keeping watch awhile
there, my friend Bachiacca crept up to me; whether led by his own
suspicions or by the advice of others, I cannot say. In a low voice he
called out to me: "Gossip" (for so we used to name ourselves for fun);
and then he prayed me for God's love, using the words which follow, with
tears in the tone of his voice: "Dear gossip, I entreat you not to
injure that poor girl; she at least has erred in no wise in this
matter-no, not at all." When I heard what he was saying, I replied: "If
you don't take yourself off now, at this first word I utter, I will
bring my sword here down upon your head." Overwhelmed with fright, my
poor gossip was suddenly taken ill with the colic, and withdrew to ease
himself apart; indeed, he could not buy obey the call. There was a
glorious heaven of stars, which shed good light to see by. All of a
sudden I was aware of the noise of many horses; they were coming toward
me from the one side and the other. It turned out to be Luigi and
Pantasilea, attended by a certain Messer Benvegnato of Perugia, who was
chamberlain to Pope Clement, and followed by four doughty captains of
Perugia, with some other valiant soldiers in the flower of youth;
altogether reckoned, there were more than twelve swords. When I
understood the matter, and saw not how to fly, I did my best to crouch
into the hedge. But the thorns pricked and hurt me, goading me to
madness like a bull; and I had half resolved to take a leap and hazard
my escape. Just then Luigi, with his arm round Pantasilea's neck, was
heard crying: "I must kiss you once again, if only to insult that
traitor Benvenuto." At that moment, annoyed as I was by the prickles,
and irritated by the young man's words, I sprang forth, lifted my sword
on high, and shouted at the top of my voice: "You are all dead folk!" My
blow descended on the shoulder of Luigi; but the satyrs who doted on
him, had steeled his person round with coasts of mail and such-like