25 The Franciscan monastery of the little village cf Bellpuig, near Lerida, contains the tomb of Ramon de Cardona, termed one of the marvels of Catalonia on account of the admirable sculptures adorning it.  One of the beautiful white marble bas-reliefs shows a number of galleys drawn up in line of battle, whilst some smaller boats are conveying parties of armed men to a river-bank on which the Moors are awaiting them in hostile array.  On the frieze of an arch the Spaniards and Moors are shown fighting, many of the former retreating towards the water.  An inscription records that the tomb was raised to the best of husbands by Isabella, his unhappy spouse.

Margaret gives the name of Florida to the wife of the Duke whom she mentions, but it should be borne in mind that she has systematically mingled fact with fiction throughout this story; and that she was alluding to the Duke buried at Bellpuig seems evident from an examination of the bas- reliefs mentioned above.  Ramon de Cardona was, however, a more important personage than she pictures him.  He became Charles V.’s viceroy in Naples, and did not die till 1520, whereas Margaret’s story appears to end in or about 1513.  Possibly she saw the tomb when in Spain.—­Ed.

“I am well aware, ladies, that this long tale may have been wearisome to some among you, but had I told it as it was told to me it would have been longer still.  Take example, I beg you, by the virtue of Florida, but be somewhat less cruel; and think not so well of any man that, when you are undeceived, you occasion him a cruel death and yourselves a life of sorrow.”

Having had a long and fair hearing Parlamente said to Hircan—­

“Do you not think that this lady was pressed to extremities and that she held out virtuously?”

“No,” said Hircan; “a woman can make no more feeble resistance than to cry out.  If she had been in a place where none could hear her I do not know how she would have fared.  And if Amadour had had more love and less fear he would not have desisted from his attempt for so little.  So this story will not cause me to change my firm opinion that no man ever perfectly loved a lady, or was loved by her, that he did not prove successful if only he went the right way to work.  Nevertheless, I must praise Amadour for having in part done his duty.”

“What duty?” asked Oisille.  “Do you call it a lover’s duty to try and take his mistress by force when he owes her all reverence and submission?”

Here Saffredent took up the discourse.

“Madam,” he said, “when our mistresses hold their state in chamber or hall, seated at their ease as though they were our judges, we lead them to the dance in fear; we wait upon them with all diligence and anticipate their commands; and we are so afraid of offending them and so desirous of doing them service that those who see us pity us, and often deem us more witless than brutes.  They account us dull and