WHILE Euryalus was thus perplexed and wondering what to do, he remembered the advice Lucretia had sent him concerning Pandalus, the cousin of Menelaus. So he followed the example of skilled physicians who, in dealing with dangerous illnesses, are wont to try an uncertain cure and risk everything, rather than not prescribe for the disease at all. He resolved to approach Pandalus, and try the remedy he had rejected before. Accordingly, he sent for him and brought him into the most private part of his house, and then spoke as follows:

‘Sit down, my friend. I am going to talk to you on an important matter, one requiring those qualities which, I know, you alone possess, diligence, loyalty, and silence. For a long time I have wished to speak to you about this, but I did not know you well enough. Now I do know you, and love and respect you for your approved loyalty. Why, even if I knew no more, it were enough that your fellow-citizens unite to praise you, as also do my companions with whom you have made friends, and who have told me what kind of man you are, and how reliable. I have also heard from them that you desired my friendship, which I now fully offer you, for you are worthy of it no less than I am worthy of yours. And now, as between friends, I will tell you shortly what I want.

‘You know the race of man, how prone it is to love, whether for good or ill. It is a widespread calamity, and there is not a heart made of flesh but feels, at one time or another, the pricks of love. You know that it is so, since neither the most holy David, nor the most wise Solomon, nor Samson, who was so strong, escaped that passion.

‘Moreover, it is the nature of a breast inflamed and drunk with love, to burn the more, the more it is opposed. Nothing cures that plague so well as a surfeit of what it desires. There have been many men and women, within our memories and in the times of our ancestors, for whom opposition has been the cause of' a cruel death. While, on the other hand, we know that many, after they have obtained full intercourse and union, have soon out-grown their passion.

‘Once love is in your bones, the most sensible thing is to yield to its fury. For if you strive against the storm, you often meet with shipwreck, while he who gives way to the hurricane, escapes. And since I am talking to you as to a part of my own heart, I may as well say that this matter will be to your advantage.

‘I love Lucretia. And it is not, dear Pandalus, my fault that I do so, but fortune’s, for our lot here on earth lies in her hands. I did not know the ways of you Italians nor the habits of this town. I thought that what your women expressed with their eyes, they also felt in their hearts. But your married ladies don’t love men; they devour them. And so I was cheated. Because I believed Lucretia loved me, for she looked on me with kind eyes, I too began to love her. Indeed, I thought so elegant a lady did not deserve that her love should go unrequited.

‘I did not know you then, nor your family. I loved, thinking I was loved, for who is there so stony or so iron, that would not love, when he is loved? But when I saw my mistake, when I realised that I was caught in a snare, then I did strive with all my force to inflame her, that my love might not be barren, but like be repaid with like.

‘To be on fire and yet burn nothing, that was at once a disgrace and a mental anguish which, day and night, tormented me beyond belief; and I was so immersed in it that I simply had not the strength to get out. So it has come to this, that through my unfailing efforts, each of us is equally in love. She is on fire, I burn; we both of us perish. And we can see no remedy, that will prolong our lives, unless you will help us.

‘She is watched by a husband and his brother. The golden fleece was not more jealously guarded by its dragon, nor the approach to Hell by Cerberus, than she is closely imprisoned. I know your family, and that you are among the leading nobles of this city, that you are rich and powerful and popular. I wish I had never known this woman. But who is there can resist his destiny? I did not choose to love: Fate compelled me.

‘That is how the matter stands. Till now, our love is secret, but unless things are well managed, it will produce—which God forbid—a great misfortune. I might perhaps restrain myself, if I were to go away; and I would do so, although to my own deepest sorrow, for the sake of your family, did I think it would be of any avail. But I know her passion. Either she would follow me or, if she were compelled to stay behind, she’d kill herself, and that would be a perpetual disgrace upon your house.

‘What I want, then, what I implore of you (and it will be in your own interests) is to prevent such a calamity. And there is only one way, which is for you to be the charioteer of our love, and see to it that our passion be well concealed and never discovered. I put myself in your hands, I give myself—I devote myself to you. Assist this frenzy of ours, for if it is opposed, it will only grow worse. Arrange for us to be together once, for after that our love will soon diminish, and will be more easily endured. You know the way into her house, you know when her husband is not there, and you know how best to get me in.

‘Her brother-in-law must be watched, for he is all too cunning in these matters, and guards Lucretia most carefully—as though he were her own brother—examining closely every ambiguous word, every turn of her head, every groan and clearing of the throat, every time she coughs or laughs. We are determined to elude him, and we cannot do that without you. So you must stay there, and whenever her husband is away, let me know; and if his brother stays behind, you must get rid of him, so that he will not remain on guard beside Lucretia, or appoint other guards. He will trust you and perhaps—please God—even entrust this duty to you. If he does, and you are willing to help me—as I hope you are—all will be smooth-sailing. For you can let me in secretly, while the others are asleep, and cool my burning passion.

‘The advantages arising from all this will, I think, be obvious to your own good sense. In the first place, you will be protecting the honour of your family, when you conceal a love that could not be made public without disgrace to you all. Then you are saving the life of your kinswoman, and preserving his wife for Menelaus; for one night given to me, and none the wiser, is not so serious a calamity as if he were to lose her, and all the town to know that she had followed me. Hippia, the Roman senator’s wife, followed her play-actor to Pharos, to the Nile, and to the storied walls of Lagos. But suppose Lucretia resolved to go with me, who am of high rank and powerful, what ignominy for all your race, what laughter for the people! That would bring shame not only on yourselves, but on your city. Some might say that a woman who would do that should rather be slain on the sword, or destroyed by poison. But woe to him that pollutes his hands with human blood, and avenges a lesser crime with a greater! One should not augment ills but diminish them; and we know that of two goods we ought to choose the greatest, of an evil and a good, the good, but of two ills, that which seems least.

‘Every way is dangerous, but the one I point out is the least perilous, for you will not only be serving the interests of your kin but helping me too, and I am almost mad when I see Lucretia tortured on my account. I’d rather she hated me than ask this of you. But there we are! Things have come to this, that unless your skill, your care, your intelligence and solicitude can save the ship, there is no hope left.

‘So help both her and me; save your house from notoriety. And don’t imagine I will be ungrateful. You know the favour I enjoy with Caesar—whatever you ask, I’ll obtain it for you, and this, first of all, I promise you and give you my word for it, that you will be a Count Palatine, and all your posterity will enjoy that title. Into your hands I put and I entrust Lucretia and myself, our love, our reputation, and the honour of your race. You are our judge, everything lies with you. Decide what you must do, for you have the power to save or to lose her.’

Pandalus smiled at this, and said:

‘I knew all this, Euryalus, and I wish it had not happened. But, as you say, things have come to such a pass that I must do as you command, unless I want my house to be afflicted with contumely and a great scandal to arise. The lady is inflamed, even as you have said, and has lost all control. If I don’t help, she will die upon the sword or throw herself from a window. She cares neither for her life nor her honour.

‘She herself has told me of her passion. I opposed it; I implored her, tried to calm her down, but all in vain. She makes light of everything but you; she cares for nothing but you. You are always in her thoughts. She seeks you, longs for you, thinks of you alone. Often when she has been talking to me, she has said—“Listen, please, Euryalus.” Why, she is so changed by love, you would not think her the same person. Alas for piety, alas for grief! No one, until this happened, in all the city was chaster than she, no one more modest. It is indeed amazing that nature has given to love so much power over men’s thoughts. We must cure her sickness, and there is no remedy but that you have pointed out. I will bestir myself and make common cause with you, while yet there is time. And I don’t want your rewards, for it is not the part of an honest man to ask for favours, when he has done nothing to deserve them. I am doing this to prevent the scandal that threatens my family. If it happens to benefit you, that is no reason why I should be rewarded.’

‘But, anyway,’ said Euryalus, ‘I feel this much gratitude towards you, that I will have you made Count Palatine, as I said. You won’t refuse that honour at my hands.’

‘I won't,’ replied Pandalus, ‘but I do not want to owe it to this matter. If it is to come, let it come freely. I am doing nothing upon conditions. For if I had been able to bring you to Lucretia, without your knowing it was I that did it, I’d have been all the better pleased. Farewell.’

‘And you, farewell,’ said Euryalus. ‘When you have thought it over, get busy, invent something, discover a way, help us to be together.’

‘You'll admire me yet,’ retorted Pandalus, and went off full of joy that he had won the favour of such a great man. Partly also because he now hoped to be a Count, since he wanted that dignity all the more, the less he seemed to desire it. For there are some men who, like women, are most eager when they profess to be most unwilling. He had obtained the reward of procuration; his posterity would display the coat of arms of a Count, and the golden ball of nobility.