eing, she thrust her nails
into her own face and fell a-weeping over her, no otherwise than as
she had been dead.

[Footnote 393: Boccaccio appears to have forgotten to mention that
Rinieri had broken the rounds of the ladder, when he withdrew it (as
stated, p. 394), apparently to place an additional obstacle in the way
of the lady's escape.]

The lady besought her for God's sake be silent and help her dress
herself, and learning from her that none knew where she had been save
those who had carried her the clothes and the husbandman there
present, was somewhat comforted and prayed them for God's sake never
to say aught of the matter to any one. Then, after much parley, the
husbandman, taking the lady in his arms, for that she could not walk,
brought her safely without the tower; but the unlucky maid, who had
remained behind, descending less circumspectly, made a slip of the
foot and falling from the ladder to the ground, broke her thigh,
whereupon she fell a-roaring for the pain, that it seemed a lion. The
husbandman, setting the lady down on a plot of grass, went to see what
ailed the maid and finding her with her thigh broken, carried her also
to the grass-plat and laid her beside her mistress, who, seeing this
befallen in addition to her other troubles and that she had broken her
thigh by whom she looked to have been succoured more than by any else,
was beyond measure woebegone and fell a-weeping afresh and so
piteously that not only could the husbandman not avail to comfort her,
but himself fell a-weeping like wise. But presently, the sun being now
low, he repaired, at the instance of the disconsolate lady, lest the
night should overtake them there, to his own house, and there called
his wife and two brothers of his, who returned to the tower with a
plank and setting the maid thereon, carried her home, whilst he
himself, having comforted the lady with a little cold water and kind
words, took her up in his arms and brought her to her own chamber.

His wife gave her a wine-sop to eat and after, undressing her, put her
to bed; and they contrived that night to have her and her maid carried
to Florence. There, the lady, who had shifts and devices great plenty,
framed a story of her fashion, altogether out of conformity with that
which had passed, and gave her brothers and sisters and every one else
to believe that this had befallen herself and her maid by dint of
diabolical bewitchments. Physicians were quickly at han