“Alas!” I replied, “how far easier it is to say such things than to lead them to any good result.”

“Albeit they be not easy of fulfilment,” she said, “yet are they possible, and they are things that it beseems you to do.  Take thou thought whether it would be fitting that for such a thing as this thou shouldst lose the luster of thy exalted parentage, the great fame of thy virtue, the flower of thy beauty, the honor in which thou art now held, and, above all, the favor of the spouse whom thou hast loved and by whom thou art loved:  certainly, thou shouldst not wish for this; nor do I believe thou wouldst wish it, if thou didst but weigh the matter seriously in thine own mind.  Wherefore, in the name of God, forbear, and drive from thy heart the false delights promised by a guilty hope, and, with them, the madness that has seized thee.  By this aged breast, long harassed by many cares, from which thou didst take thy first nutriment, I humbly beseech thee to have the courage to aid thyself, to have a concern for thine own honor, and not to disdain my warnings.  Bethink thee that the very desire to be healed is itself often productive of health.”

Whereto I thus made answer: 

“Only too well do I know, dear nurse, the truth of that which thou sayest.  But a furious madness constrains me to follow the worse course; vainly does my heart, insatiable in its desires, long for strength to enable it to adopt thy advice; what reason enjoins is rendered of no avail by this soul-subduing passion.  My mind is wholly possessed by Love, who rules every part thereof, in virtue of his all-embracing deity; and surely thou art aware that his power is absolute, and ’twere useless to attempt to resist it.”

Having said these words, I became almost unconscious, and fell into her arms.  But she, now more agitated than before, in austere and rebuking tones, said: 

“Yes, forsooth, well am I aware that you and a number of fond young women, inflamed and instigated thereunto by vain thoughts, have discovered Love to be a god, whereas a juster name for him would be that of demon; and you and they call him the son of Venus, and say that his strength has come to him from the third heaven, wishing, seemingly, to offer necessity as an excuse for your foolishness.  Oh, was ever woman so misled as thou?  Truly, thou must be bereft entirely of understanding!  What a thing thou sayest!  Love a deity!  Love is a madness, thrust forth from hell by some fury.  He speeds across the earth in hasty flight, and they whom he visits soon discover that he brings no deity with him, but frenzy rather; yet none will he visit except those abounding overmuch in earthly felicity; for they, he knows, in their overweening conceit, are ready to afford him lodgment and shelter.  This has been proven to us by many facts.  Do we not see that Venus, the true, the heavenly Venus, often dwells in the humblest cot, her sole concern being the perpetuation