circumspection; and because of her abundance she was at no man's beck
and call, and could choose and refuse as it liked her. She was made
something full of figure, with a face like an ancient statue, which was
the less to be wondered at because her mother was a Greek; but her hair,
of which she had a mighty quantity, was of that tawny red tincture that
is familiar to those that woo Venetian women. As for her mouth, it was
like flame, and her eyes were flames too, though of another hue, having
a greenish light in them that could delight or frighten as she pleased.
She went her ways in great state, having two small knavish blackamoor
pages in gold tissue at her heels, and a little ways off she was
followed by a brace of well-armed serving-rascals.

For my own part, I was mightily pleased to see her, for though she was,
in the native ways of affairs, somewhat out of my star, still, as I
said, she was to show later that she had an eye for a pretty fellow and
owned a spirit above mere dross. I say no more. She seemed content
enough to see me, but still more content to see Messer Guido. This was
an experience in the ways of ladies with which those that walked with
Messer Guido were familiar. Every woman that saw him admired him highly.
So Vittoria smiled a little on me and a great deal on Messer Guido; and
as for Dante, she glanced at him slightly and gave him little heed, for
his habit was modest and his looks were not of a kind at once to tickle
the fancy of such as she. Yet Dante looked at her curiously, though
without ostentation, as one whose way it is instinctively to observe all
men and all women with an exceeding keenness and clearness of vision.

Messer Guido greeted Madonna Vittoria very courteously, as was ever his
way with women. Were they fair or plain-favored, chaste or gay, he was
ever their very gentle servant. And by this time Vittoria, being very
close to us, paused and gave us the greeting of the day; and her pages
came to a halt behind her, and her men-at-arms stood at ease a little
space away.

The beautiful lady looked at us with a kind of wonder and a kind of
mockery in her dark eyes. And when she spoke to us her voice was
marvellously soft with a rich softness that made me, being then of a
very sensual disposition, think instantly of old wine and ripe fruit,
and darkened alcoves, and the wayward complaining of lutes. Indeed,
wherever Monna Vittoria went she seemed to carry with her an atmosphere
of s