“Some time ago, your majesty, there was a man who had a ring of great beauty and value.  And he declared in his will that the son to whom this ring was bequeathed should be the head of the family, and that his descendants should rule over the descendants of the other sons.  For many generations his wishes were carried out; but at last the ring came into the possession of a man who had three sons, all virtuous and dutiful to their father, and equally beloved by him.

“Being at a loss which son to prefer above the others, the good man got a skilful craftsman to make two rings, which were so like the first that he himself scarcely knew the true one.  On his deathbed he gave one of these rings privately to each of his sons.  Each of them afterwards laid claim to the government of the family, and produced the ring which his father had given him.  But the rings were so much alike that it was impossible to tell which was the true one, and even to this day no one has been able to decide upon the matter.  Thus has it happened, sire, in regard to the three laws of faith derived from God—­Jew, Mohammedan, and Christian.  Each believes that he is the true heir of the Almighty; but it is just as uncertain which has received the true law as it is which has received the true ring.”

Saladin was mightily pleased at the ingenious way in which Melchizedeck escaped from the snare that had been spread for him.  Instead of taking by force the money that he wanted from the Jew, he desired him to advance it on loan.  This Melchizedeck did, and Saladin soon afterwards repaid the money and gave him presents, besides maintaining him nobly at court and making him his life-long friend.

For some days the ladies and cavaliers entertained one another with dancing and singing and story-telling.  And then, as the plague had abated in Florence, they returned to the city.  But before they went Dioneo told them a very strange and moving tale.

Griselda:  A Tale of Wifely Patience

Men, said Dioneo, are wont to charge women with fickleness and inconstancy; but there comes into my mind a story of a woman’s constancy and a man’s cruelty which, I think you will agree, is worth the telling.  Gualtieri, the young Marquis of Saluzzo, was a man who did not believe that any woman could be true and constant all her life.  And for this reason he would not marry, but spent his whole time in hawking and hunting.  His subjects, however, did not want him to die without an heir, and leave them without a lord, and they were always pressing him to marry.  They went so far at last as to offer to provide a lady for him.  This made him very angry.

“If I want a wife, my friends,” he said, “I will choose one myself.  And, look you, whatever her birth and upbringing are, pay her the respect due to her as my lady, or you shall know to your cost how grievous it is to me to have taken a wife when I did not want one.”

A few days afterwards he was riding through a village, not far from his palace, when he saw a comely shepherd girl carrying water from a well to her father’s house.