was this of necromancy, whereof, indeed, I know all
that may be known; but, as ’tis in the last
degree displeasing to God, I had sworn never to practise
it either for my own or for any other’s behoof.
’Tis also true that the love I bear you is such
that I know not how to refuse you aught that you would
have me do for you; and so, were this single essay
enough to consign me to hell, I would adventure it
to pleasure you. But I mind me that ’tis
a matter scarce so easy of performance as, perchance,
you suppose, most especially when a woman would fain
recover the love of a man, or a man that of a woman,
for then it must be done by the postulant in proper
person, and at night, and in lonely places, and unattended,
so that it needs a stout heart; nor know I whether
you are disposed to comply with these conditions.”
The lady, too enamoured to be discreet, made answer:—“So
shrewdly does Love goad me, that there is nought I
would not do to bring him back to me who wrongfully
has deserted me; but tell me, prithee, wherein it
is that I have need of this stout heart.”
“Madam,” returned the despiteful scholar,
“’twill be my part to fashion in tin an
image of him you would fain lure back to you:
and when I have sent you the image, ’twill be
for you, when the moon is well on the wane, to dip
yourself, being stark naked, and the image, seven times
in a flowing stream, and this you must do quite alone
about the hour of first sleep, and afterwards, still
naked, you must get you upon some tree or some deserted
house, and facing the North, with the image in your
hand, say certain words that I shall give you in writing
seven times; which, when you have done, there will
come to you two damsels, the fairest you ever saw,
who will greet you graciously, and ask of you what
you would fain have; to whom you will disclose frankly
and fully all that you crave; and see to it that you
make no mistake in the name; and when you have said
all, they will depart, and you may then descend and
return to the spot where you left your clothes, and
resume them and go home. And rest assured, that
before the ensuing midnight your lover will come to
you in tears, and crave your pardon and mercy, and
that thenceforth he will never again desert you for
any other woman.”
The lady gave entire credence to the scholar’s
words, and deeming her lover as good as in her arms
again, recovered half her wonted spirits: wherefore:—“Make
no doubt,” quoth she, “that I shall do
as thou biddest; and indeed I am most favoured by
circumstance; for in upper Val d’Arno I have
an estate adjoining the river, and ’tis now July,
so that to bathe will be delightful. Ay, and
now I mind me that at no great distance from the river
there is a little tower, which is deserted, save that
now and again the shepherds will get them up by the
chestnut-wood ladder to the roof, thence to look out
for their strayed sheep; ’tis a place lonely
indeed, and quite out of ken; and when I have clomb
it, as climb it I will, I doubt not ’twill be
the best place in all the world to give effect to
your instructions.”