“What will you say of a peasant girl, who not many months ago, at Gazuolo in the Mantuan territory,[414] went with her sister to reap corn in the fields, and being overcome with thirst, entered a house for a drink of water; and the master of the house, who was a young man, seeing that she was very beautiful and alone, took her in his arms, and first with soft words, and then with threats, sought to persuade her to his wishes; and she resisting more and more stubbornly, he at last overcame her with many blows and with force. So, dishevelled and weeping, she went back to her sister in the field, nor would she for all her sister’s urgent questioning tell what outrage she had received in that house; but on the way home, feigning to grow calmer little by little and to speak quite without agitation, she gave her sister some directions. Then when she came to the Oglio, which is the river that flows by Gazuolo,[415] she left her sister a little behind not knowing or imagining what she meant to do, and suddenly threw herself in. Wailing and weeping her sister ran after her as fast as possible along the bank of the river, which was bearing her down-stream very rapidly: and each time the poor creature rose to the surface, her sister threw her a cord which they had to bind the corn, and although the cord reached her hands several times (for she was still near the bank), the steadfast and determined girl always refused it and put it from her; and thus rejecting every aid that might save her life, she soon died: nor was she moved by nobility of birth, nor by fear of most cruel death or of infamy, but solely by grief for her lost virginity.[416] [Illustration: LUDOVICO GONZAGA BISHOP OF MANTUA 1458-1511 ] From a photograph, specially made by Signor Lanzoni, of a part of the fresco, “The Return of Cardinal Francesco Gonzaga,” in the _Sala degli Sposi_ of the Gonzaga Palace at Mantua, painted not later than 1474 by Andrea Mantegna (1431-1506). See Woltmann’s _Geschichte der Malerei_, ii, 268. “Now from this you can understand how many other women, who are not known, perform acts most worthy of praise; for although this one gave such proof of her virtue only three days since, as one may say, there is no talk of her and even her name is unknown. But if the death of our lady Duchess’s uncle, the Bishop of Mantua,[417] had not occurred at that time, the bank of the Oglio, at the place where she threw herself in, would have been graced by a very beautiful monument to the memory of that glorious soul, which deserved so much the brighter fame after death, because in life it dwelt in a less noble body.” 48.—Here messer Cesare made a little pause; then he continued: