“Guess, my wife, what hour it is.’’

“I have not heard the clock strike since I went to bed,” she replied.

“It is three hours after midnight,” said he.

“If that be so,” said his wife, “where have you been all this time?  I greatly fear that your health will be the worse for it.”

“Sweetheart,” said the Prince, “watching will never make me ill when I am engaged in preventing those who try to deceive me from going to sleep.”

So saying, he began to laugh so heartily that his wife begged him to tell her of the matter.  This he did at length, showing her the wolf’s skin (4) which his servant had brought him.  After making merry at the expense of the hapless lovers, they went to sleep in gentle tranquillity, while the other two passed the night in torment, fearing and dreading lest the affair should be revealed.

However, the gentleman, knowing right well that he could not use concealment with the Prince, came to him in the morning when he was dressing to beg that he would not expose him, and would give orders for the return of his cloak.

The Prince pretended that he knew nothing of the matter, and put such a face on it that the gentleman was wholly at a loss what to think.  But in the end he received a rating that he had not expected, for the Prince assured him that, if ever he went to the lady’s room again, he would tell the King of it, and have him banished the Court.

“I pray you, ladies, judge whether it had not been better for this poor lady to have spoken freely to him who did her the honour of loving and esteeming her, instead of leading him by her dissimulation to prove her in a way that brought her so much shame.”

“She knew,” said Geburon, “that if she confessed the truth she would wholly lose his favour, and this she on no account desired to do.”

“It seems to me,” said Longarine, “that when she had chosen a husband to her liking, she ought not to have feared the loss of any other man’s affection.”

“I am sure,” said Parlamente, “that if she had dared to reveal her marriage, she would have been quite content with her husband; but she wished to hide it until her daughters were wed, and so she would not abandon so good a means of concealment.”

“It was not for that reason,” said Saffredent, “but because the ambition of women is so great that they are never satisfied with having only one lover.  I have heard that the discreetest of them are glad to have three—­one, namely, for honour, one for profit, and one for delight.  Each of the three thinks himself loved the best, but the first two are as servants to the last.”

“You speak,” said Oisille, “of such women as have neither love nor honour.”

“Madam,” said Saffredent, “there are some of the kind that I describe, whom you reckon among the most honourable in the land.”

“You may be sure,” said Hircan, “that a crafty woman will be able to live where all others die of hunger.”