frown even more than death; now and then one, bowing to the ground, would
place a letter in his goddess' hand, and another a sonnet, the while in
fear expectant, like schoolboys showing their task to the master. They
in return would favour their adorers with a simpering smile or two, just
to keep their desires on edge, but granting nought more lest their lust
be sated and they depart healed of the disease. Going on into the
parlour I saw them having lessons in dancing and singing, with voice and
hand, in order to make their lovers sevenfold madder than before; on
again into the dining hall where they were taught coy smartness in
eating; into the cellar, where potent love philtres were being mixed of
nail parings and the like; in the upper rooms we could see one in a
secret chamber twisting himself into all shapes, practising gentlemanly
behaviour when in his mistress' presence; another before a mirror
learning how to smile correctly without showing his teeth too prominently
to his ladylove; another preparing his tale to tell her, repeating the
same thing an hundred times. Wearied with this insipid babbling we came
to another cell: here a nobleman had sent for a poet from the Street of
Pride to indite him a sonnet of praise to his angel, and an eulogy of
himself; the bard was discoursing of his art: "I can," said he, "liken
her to everything red and everything white under the sun, and her tresses
to an hundred things more yellow than gold, and as for your poem, I can
trace your lineage through many knights and princes, and through the
water of the deluge right up to Adam." "Well, here's a poet," quoth I,
"who is a better genealogist than I." "Come, come," said the Angel,
"their intention is to deceive the woman, but, once in her presence, you
may be sure they will have to meet trick with trick."

Upon leaving these we had a glimpse of cells where fouler deeds were
being done than modesty permits to mention, and which caused my companion
to snatch me away in anger from this fatuous court into the princess'