made a show of being concerned at this accident and letting
untruss him, caused fetch cold water and cast it in his face and essay
many other remedies of his fashion, as if he would recall the strayed
life and senses from [the oppression of] some fumosity of the stomach
or what not like affection that had usurped them. The monks, seeing
that for all this he came not to himself and feeling his pulse, but
finding no sign of life in him, all held it for certain that he was
dead. Accordingly, they sent to tell his wife and his kinsfolk, who
all came thither forthright, and the lady having bewept him awhile
with her kinswomen, the abbot caused lay him, clad as he was, in a
tomb; whilst the lady returned to her house and giving out that she
meant never to part from a little son, whom she had had by her
husband, abode at home and occupied herself with the governance of the
child and of the wealth which had been Ferondo's. Meanwhile, the abbot
arose stealthily in the night and with the aid of a Bolognese monk, in
whom he much trusted and who was that day come thither from Bologna,
took up Ferondo out of the tomb and carried him into a vault, in which
there was no light to be seen and which had been made for prison of
such of the monks as should make default in aught. There they pulled
off his garments and clothing him monk-fashion, laid him on a truss of
straw and there left him against he should recover his senses, whilst
the Bolognese monk, having been instructed by the abbot of that which
he had to do, without any else knowing aught thereof, proceeded to
await his coming to himself.

On the morrow, the abbot, accompanied by sundry of his monks, betook
himself, by way of visitation, to the house of the lady, whom he found
clad in black and in great tribulation, and having comforted her
awhile, he softly required her of her promise. The lady, finding
herself free and unhindered of Ferondo or any other and seeing on his
finger another fine ring, replied that she was ready and appointed him
to come to her that same night. Accordingly, night come, the abbot,
disguised in Ferondo's clothes and accompanied by the monk his
confidant, repaired thither and lay with her in the utmost delight and
pleasance till the morning, when he returned to the abbey. After this
he very often made the same journey on a like errand and being whiles
encountered, coming or going, of one or another of the villagers, it
was believed he was Ferondo who wen