ough her flank the blade he would have driven.
Vainly long time he seeks her, then remains
Foiled and outscorned, for guerdon of his pains.

CXXVII
"He all astound and with bewildered face,
And full of shame, to seek his lord returns;
Who from the servant that unwonted case,
Unweeting how the thing had happened, learns;
Nor knows the fairy Manto fills a place
About Argia, prompt to serve her turns.
Because the nurse, that all the rest revealed
(I know not wherefore, I), had this concealed.

CXXVIII
"He knows not what to do: the outrage sore
Avenged he has not, nor his pain allaid:
What was a mote is now a beam; so sore
It prest him; on his heart so heavy weighed.
So plain is what was little known before,
He fears that it will shortly be displaid.
At first, he haply might have hid his woe;
Which Rumour now throughout the world will blow.

CXXIX
"Full well he wots, that since his evil vein
He to his wife, unhappy wretch! hath shown,
Not to be subject to his yoke again,
She to some strong protector will have flown;
Who to his ignominy will maintain,
And utter scorn, the lady as his own:
And haply may she to some losel flee,
Who will her paramour and pander be.

CXXX
"For remedy, he sends in haste a band
Of messengers, with letters far and nigh.
Some of Argia here, some there demand;
Nor town unsearched is left in Lombardy.
Next he in person goes; nor any land
Leaves unexamined by himself or spy.
Yet cannot he discover means or way
For learning where concealed his consort lay.

CXXXI
"The servant last he called on whom was laid
The ill hest, but who had served not his despite;
And thither by his guidance was conveyed,
Where (as 'twas said) she vanished from his sight;
Who haply lurked by day in greenwood-shade,
And to some friendly roof retired at night.
He thither guided, where but forest-trees
He thinks to find, a sumptuous palace sees.

CXXXII
"This while for bright Argia in that part
The fay had made with speedy toil prepare
An alabaster palace by her art,
Gilded within, without, and everywhere.
So wonderful, no tongue could tell, no heart
Conceive, how rich within, without how fair:
That, which thou deemed so fair, my master's home,
Is but a cottage to that costly dome.

CXXXIII
"Curtain and cloth of arras deck the wall,
Sumptuously woven and in different wise,
In vaulte