WINTER had come; the south wind was felt no more, only the north wind blew. Snow fell from the skies, the whole town was given over to mirth, and the ladies threw snow-balls out into the streets, while the youths threw them in at the windows. And thus Pacorus found his opportunity, for he wrapt another letter in wax and rolled the wax in snow and bound it fast, making a ball of it, and threw it into Lucretia’s window.

Who will say that all things are not governed by chance? Who is there does not hope for its favourable breath? For one hour of good luck is worth more than if you had a letter from Venus commending you to Mars. Some say, chance has no power over wisdom, and I admit it of those that are wise enough to take pleasure only in virtue, who whether poor or sick or shut up in the bull of Phalaris, can believe their life is happy. But I have never met anyone like that, and I don’t think they exist.

The common lot of man needs fortune’s favour. Whom she will she raises up, and whom she will, brings low. Who was it destroyed Pacorus, if not Fortune? Could he have been more cautious than he was, enclosing his note in the stem of a violet, and now again sending a letter with the help of the snow Some will say he could have been more cautious. But, had fortune favoured his plan, then he would have been considered both cautious and as prudent as could be. But fate opposed him, making the ball drop from Lucretia’s hand and roll towards the fire, where the snow melted in the heat, the wax liquified, and the letter was disclosed. And the old women sitting there warming themselves, and Menelaus too, who happened to be present, all read it; and new quarrels were started, and Pacorus escaped not by asking pardon but by flight.

This love-affair was favourable to Euryalus, for while Lucretia’s husband watched Pacorus’ every step and every action, he left room for Euryalus’ schemes; and it is very true, what people say, that it is not easy to guard what many people love or strive for. And the lovers, now they had once been to bed together, were eager for a second encounter.

Now the lane that separated Lucretia’s house from her neighbour was very narrow, and by putting a foot on either wall it was quite easy to reach Lucretia’s window; but it was only possible to climb up after dark. However, Menelaus had to go to the country on business and meant to spend the night there, and the lovers were looking forward to this day as to a holiday. The time for his departure came. Euryalus changed his clothes and made for the lane. Here Menelaus had a stable, which Euryalus entered, by Sosias’ instructions, and there awaited the night, concealed in the hay.

And then, look! Dromo, Menelaus’ second servant, he that looked after the horses, came to fill the manger, and began to remove the hay from beside Euryalus. And he was just coming to fetch some more, and his fork would have struck Euryalus, when Sosias arrived and, perceiving the danger, said:

‘Let me do that, good friend, I’ll feed the horses. Do you, in the meantime, go and see if our supper is ready. Let us enjoy ourselves while our master is away. Our lady treats us far better than he does. She is cheerful and very generous, but he is ill-natured, turbulent, miserly, and hard to please. Nothing goes well for us, while he is here. Have you not noticed how he ill-treats our stomachs with his unfair measure, always stuffing himself and starving us; it’s not enough for him that we must eat mouldy crusts of black bread, but yesterday’s mince is served up at his table, the salt fish and eels of one meal are carried over to the next, and he counts the sprigs of chives and marks them and locks them up, in case we get anything. Fool, who seeks to grow rich through such torments! For what could be stupider than to live like a pauper that you may die a Croesus. How different is our lady, who not only feeds us on veal and young kids, but even gives us chickens and trout, and any amount of the best wine. Go on, Dromo, see that the food is plentiful.’

‘I'll see to that,’ said Dromo, ‘I’d sooner rub a table than a horse. I took our lord down to the country to-day, bad cess to him, and never a word did he say to me, except in the evening when he sent me back with the horses, and bade me tell my mistress he would not be back to-night. I am glad, Sosias, to see you are learning to hate our master’s ways. I’d have changed service long ago, but our lady kept me with her little tit-bits of a morning. We’ll not sleep all this night. Let us eat and drink till day comes. Our lord will not eat as much in a month as we’ll get rid of at a single supper.’

All this Euryalus heard with joy, although he knew the ways of servants and had no doubt but his own said just the same when he was away from home. And after they had talked like this for some time and Dromo had gone off, Euryalus arose and said:

‘Oh what a happy night I am going to owe you, Sosias, who brought me here and so loyally prevented my discovery. You are a good fellow, and I love you as you deserve, and will not prove ungrateful.’