lly as if they had been spoken by an oracle; nevertheless he
begged of him not to relinquish the undertaking, were it but for the sake
of curiosity and amusement; though thenceforward he need not make use of
the same earnest endeavours as before; all he wished him to do was to
write some verses to her, praising her under the name of Chloris, for he
himself would give her to understand that he was in love with a lady to
whom he had given that name to enable him to sing her praises with the
decorum due to her modesty; and if Lothario were unwilling to take the
trouble of writing the verses he would compose them himself.
"That will not be necessary," said Lothario, "for the muses are not such
enemies of mine but that they visit me now and then in the course of the
year. Do thou tell Camilla what thou hast proposed about a pretended
amour of mine; as for the verses will make them, and if not as good as
the subject deserves, they shall be at least the best I can produce." An
agreement to this effect was made between the friends, the ill-advised
one and the treacherous, and Anselmo returning to his house asked Camilla
the question she already wondered he had not asked before--what it was
that had caused her to write the letter she had sent him. Camilla replied
that it had seemed to her that Lothario looked at her somewhat more
freely than when he had been at home; but that now she was undeceived and
believed it to have been only her own imagination, for Lothario now
avoided seeing her, or being alone with her. Anselmo told her she might
be quite easy on the score of that suspicion, for he knew that Lothario
was in love with a damsel of rank in the city whom he celebrated under
the name of Chloris, and that even if he were not, his fidelity and their
great friendship left no room for fear. Had not Camilla, however, been
informed beforehand by Lothario that this love for Chloris was a
pretence, and that he himself had told Anselmo of it in order to be able
sometimes to give utterance to the praises of Camilla herself, no doubt
she would have fallen into the despairing toils of jealousy; but being
forewarned she received the startling news without uneasiness.
The next day as the three were at table Anselmo asked Lothario to recite
something of what he had composed for his mistress Chloris; for as
Camilla did not know her, he might safely say what he liked.
"Even did she know her," returned Lothario, "I would hide nothing, for
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