h, a liar does not always lie."

"Ay doth he whenever he tells an improbable story to begin, and shows
you a holy relic; arms you against the Satanic host. Fiends (if any) be
not so simple. Shouldst have answered him out of antiquity--

'Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes.'

Some blackguard chopped his wife's head off on that stone, young man;
you take my word for it." And the friar hurried Gerard away.

"Alack, father, I fear you abashed the good priest."

"Ay, by Pollux," said the friar, with a chuckle; "I blistered him with
a single touch of 'Socratic interrogation.' What modern can parry the
weapons of antiquity."

One afternoon, when Gerard had finished his day's work, a fine lackey
came and demanded his attendance at the Palace Cesarini. He went, and
was ushered into a noble apartment; there was a girl seated in it,
working on a tapestry. She rose and left the room, and said she would
let her mistress know.

A good hour did Gerard cool his heels in that great room, and at last
he began to fret. "These nobles think nothing of a poor fellow's time."
However, just as he was making up his mind to slip out, and go about
his business, the door opened, and a superb beauty entered the room,
followed by two maids. It was the young princess of the house of
Cesarini. She came in talking rather loudly and haughtily to her
dependents, but at sight of Gerard lowered her voice to a very feminine
tone, and said, "Are you the writer, messer?"

"I am, Signora.

"'Tis well."

She then seated herself; Gerard and her maids remained standing.

"What is your name, good youth?"

"Gerard, signora."

"Gerard? body of Bacchus! is that the name of a human creature?"

"It is a Dutch name, signora. I was born at Tergou, in Holland."

"A harsh name, girls, for so well-favoured a youth; what say you?"

The maids assented warmly.

"What did I send for him for?" inquired the lady, with lofty languor.
"Ah, I remember. Be seated, Ser Gerardo, and write me a letter to Ercole
Orsini, my lover; at least he says so."

Gerard seated himself, took out paper and ink, and looked up to the
princess for instructions.

She, seated on a much higher chair, almost a throne, looked down at him
with eyes equally inquiring.

"Well, Gerardo."

"I am ready, your excellence."

"Write, then."

"I but await the words."

"And who, think you, is to provide them?"

"Who but your grace, whose letter it is to be?"

"Gramercy! what, you writers, f