alous and
grim humour. His enemies did reproach him for his cunning and cruelty,
naming him mongrel cur of fox and she-wolf, stinking hound, if ever
stinking hound was. But his friends would commend him, for that he kept
ever in sure memory whatsoever of right or wrong folk did him, and would
in no wise suffer patiently any injury wrought him or his.

During the space of three full months which were now gone by the lovers
had great joy of each other and content of their desires without or let
or hindrance, when one morning the Nurse came to seek Dona Maria in her
chamber, and spake thus to her:

"Listen, my pearl of pearls; albeit my words this day will be neither of
flowers nor sugar-plums, but of a right serious and fearsome matter. My
Lord the Prince of Venosa hath heard some ill report concerning you and
the Duke d'Andria.

"But now I saw him in the Palace court, as he was a-mounting his horse.
He was gnawing his moustache--a fell sign with him. He was in talk with
two fellows, which had little of the air about them of leading honest
lives; all I heard him tell them was, 'See ye, without being seen!' Of
such sort the orders the noble Prince was charging them withal. And the
worst is, he did stop dead whenas he set eyes on me. My own little pearl
of price, so true as God is in the Holy Sacrament, an if the Prince find
you with the Lord Duke d'Andria, he will kill both the twain of you. You
will be a dead woman; and ah! me, what will become of me?"

The Nurse spake on in this wise and besought her mistress long and sore;
but Dona Maria d'Avalos did send her away without deigning so much as
one word of answer.

As it was Springtide she went forth that same day a-walking in the
country with some ladies of the city. They were following a path
bordered with thorn-trees all a-bloom, when one of the ladies said thus
to her:

"Dogs will sometimes come and stick at travellers' heels, Dona Maria.
Well! look, to-day we be dogged by a great black and white hound!"

And the Princess, turning her head to see, did recognize a certain
Dominican monk which was used to come each day to the courtyard of the
Palazzo Venosa for to rest in the shade there, and in winter-time to
warm him in the great kitchen.

Meanwhile the Nurse, seeing her lady mistress paid no heed to her words,
ran to warn the Duke d'Andria. Moreover the said Duke had reasons of his
own to fear the sweet secret of his loves had been unhappily discovered.
The