had seen the lady at Bologna, concurred.  Which report Lodovico, who was as yet fancy-free, no sooner heard, than he burned with such a yearning to see the lady that he was able to think of nought else:  insomuch that he made up his mind to betake him to Bologna to see her, and if she pleased him, to remain there; to which end he gave his father to understand that he would fain visit the Holy Sepulchre, whereto his father after no little demur consented.

So to Bologna Anichino—­for so he now called himself—­came; and, as Fortune would have it, the very next day, he saw the lady at a festal gathering, and deemed her vastly more beautiful than he had expected:  wherefore he waxed most ardently enamoured of her, and resolved never to quit Bologna, until he had gained her love.  So, casting about how he should proceed, he could devise no other way but to enter her husband’s service, which was the more easy that he kept not a few retainers:  on this wise Lodovico surmised that, peradventure, he might compass his end.  He therefore sold his horses and meetly bestowed his servants, bidding them make as if they knew him not; and being pretty familiar with his host, he told him that he was minded to take service with some worthy lord, it any such he might find.  “Thou wouldst make,” quoth the host, “the very sort of retainer to suit a gentleman of this city, Egano by name, who keeps not a few of them, and will have all of them presentable like thee:  I will mention the matter to him.”  And so he accordingly did, and before he took leave of Egano had placed Anichino with him, to Egano’s complete satisfaction.

Being thus resident with Egano, and having abundant opportunities of seeing the fair lady, Anichino set himself to serve Egano with no little zeal; wherein he succeeded so well, that Egano was more than satisfied, insomuch that by and by there was nought he could do without his advice, and he entrusted to him the guidance not only of himself, but of all his affairs.  Now it so befell that one day when Egano was gone a hawking, having left Anichino at home, Madonna Beatrice, who as yet wist not of his love, albeit she had from time to time taken note of him and his manners, and had not a little approved and commended them, sat herself down with him to a game of chess, which, to please her, Anichino most dexterously contrived to lose, to the lady’s prodigious delight.  After a while, the lady’s women, one and all, gave over watching their play, and left them to it; whereupon Anichino heaved a mighty sigh.  The lady, looking hard at him, said:—­“What ails thee, Anichino?  Is it, then, such a mortification to thee to be conquered by me?” “Nay, Madam,” replied Anichino, “my sigh was prompted by a much graver matter.”  “Then, if thou hast any regard for me,” quoth the lady, “tell me what it is.”  Hearing himself thus adjured by “any regard” he had for her whom he loved more than aught else, Anichino heaved a yet mightier sigh, which caused the lady to renew her