The Duke promised not to urge him, and being quite satisfied with him, treated him with more kindness than ever before.  The Duchess perceived this, and set herself with her wonted craft to find out the reason.  The Duke did not hide it from her; whereupon strong jealousy sprang up beside her desire for vengeance, and she begged her husband to command the gentleman to name his sweetheart.  She assured him that the story was a lie, and that the course she urged was the best means of testing it.  If the gentleman, said she, did not name her whom he deemed so beautiful, and his master believed him on his mere word, he would indeed be the most foolish Prince alive.

The poor Duke, whose wife directed his thoughts at her pleasure, went to walk alone with the gentleman, and told him that he was in even greater trouble than before; for he was greatly minded to believe that he had been given an excuse to keep him from suspecting the truth.  This was a greater torment to him than ever; and he therefore begged the gentleman, as earnestly as he was able, to name her whom he loved so dearly.  The poor gentleman entreated that he might not be made to commit so great an offence against his mistress as to break the promise he had given her and had kept so long, and thus lose in a day all that he had preserved for seven years.  And he added that he would rather suffer death than in this wise wrong one who had been true to him.

The Duke, finding that he would not tell him, became deeply jealous, and with a wrathful countenance exclaimed—­

“Well, choose one of two things:  either tell me whom you love more than any other, or else go into banishment from the territories over which I rule, under pain of a cruel death if you be found within them after a week is over.”

If ever heart of loyal servant was torn with anguish, it was so with that of this poor gentleman, who might well have said, Angustiae sunt mihi undique, for on the one part he saw that by telling the truth he would lose his mistress, if she learned that he had failed in his promise to her; while, if he did not confess it, he would be banished from the land in which she dwelt, and be no more able to see her.  Hard pressed in this manner on all sides, there came upon him a cold sweat, as on one whose sorrow was bringing him near to death.  The Duke, observing his looks, concluded that he loved no other lady than the Duchess, and was enduring this suffering because he was able to name none other.  He therefore said to him with considerable harshness—­

“If what you say were true, you would not have so much trouble in telling me; but methinks ’tis your crime that is tormenting you.”

The gentleman, piqued by these words, and impelled by the love that he bore his master, resolved to tell him the truth, believing that he was too honourable a man ever, on any account, to reveal it.  Accordingly, throwing himself upon his knees, and clasping his hands, he said—­