whereas Arriguccio had averred that he had pummelled her all over:  wherefore their first impression was one of wonder, and refraining the vehemence of their wrath, they asked her what might be the truth of the matter which Arriguccio laid to her charge, and threatened her with direful consequences, if she should conceal aught.  Whereto the lady:—­“What you would have me tell you,” quoth she, “or what Arriguccio may have laid to my charge, that know not I.”  Arriguccio could but gaze upon her, as one that had taken leave of his wits, calling to mind how he had pummelled her about the face times without number, and scratched it for her, and mishandled her in all manner of ways, and there he now saw her with no trace of aught of it all upon her.  However, to make a long story short, the lady’s brothers told her what Arriguccio had told them touching the pack-thread and the beating and all the rest of it.  Whereupon the lady turned to him with:—­“Alas, my husband, what is this that I hear?  Why givest thou me, to thy own great shame, the reputation of a lewd woman, when such I am not, and thyself the reputation of a wicked and cruel man, which thou art not?  Wast thou ever to-night, I say not in my company, but so much as in the house until now?  Or when didst thou beat me?  For my part I mind me not of it.”  Arriguccio began:—­“How sayst thou, lewd woman?  Did we not go to bed together?  Did I not come back, after chasing thy lover?  Did I not give thee bruises not a few, and cut thy hair for thee?” But the lady interrupted him, saying:—­“Nay, thou didst not lie here to-night.  But leave we this, of which my true words are my sole witness, and pass we to this of the beating thou sayst thou gavest me, and how thou didst cut my hair.  Never a beating had I from thee, and I bid all that are here, and thee among them, look at me, and say if I have any trace of a beating on my person; nor should I advise thee to dare lay hand upon me; for, by the Holy Rood, I would spoil thy beauty for thee.  Nor didst thou cut my hair, for aught that I saw or felt:  however, thou didst it, perchance, on such wise that I was not ware thereof:  so let me see whether ’tis cut or no.”  Then, unveiling herself, she shewed that her hair was uncut and entire.  Wherefore her brothers and mother now turned to Arriguccio with:—­“What means this, Arriguccio?  This accords not with what thou gavest us to understand thou hadst done; nor know we how thou wilt prove the residue.”

Arriguccio was lost, as it were, in a dream, and yet he would fain have spoken; but, seeing that what he had thought to prove was otherwise, he essayed no reply.  So the lady turning to her brothers:—­“I see,” quoth she, “what he would have:  he will not be satisfied unless I do what I never would otherwise have done, to wit, give you to know what a pitiful caitiff he is; as now I shall not fail to do.  I make no manner of doubt that, as he has said, even so it befell, and so he did.  How, you shall hear.  This worthy man, to whom, worse