At this instant _Thebaldo_ thought it to be a very apt and convenient time to disclose himselfe, and to comfort the Lady, with an assured signall of hope, for the deliverance of her Father, wherefore he saide. Lady, to the ende that I may comfort you infallibly, in this dangerous perill of your Fathers life; I am to make knowne an especiall secret to you, which you are to keepe carefully (as you tender your owne life) from ever being revealed to the world. They were then in a place of sufficient privacy, and alone by themselves, because shee reposed great confidence in the Pilgrimes sanctity of life, as thinking him none other, then as he seemed to be. _Thebaldo_ tooke out of his Purse a Ring, which shee gave him, the last night of their conversing together, and he had kept with no meane care, and shewing it to her, he saide. Doe you know this Ring Madam? So soone as shee saw it, immediately shee knew it, and answered. Yes Sir, I know the Ring, and confesse that heretofore I gave it unto _Thebaldo_. Hereupon the Pilgrime stood up, and suddenly putting off his poore linnen Frocke, as also the Hood from his head; using then his _Florentine_ tongue, he saide. Then tell me Madam, doe you not know me? When shee had advisedly beheld him, and knew him indeede to be _Thebaldo_; she was stricken into a wonderfull astonishment, being as fearefull of him, as shee was of the dead body, which shee saw lying in the streete. And I dare assure you, that shee durst not goe neere him, to respect him, as _Thebaldo_ so lately come from _Cyprus_: but (in terror) fled away from him; as if _Thebaldo_ had beene newly risen out of his grave, and came thither purposely to affright her; wherefore he saide. Be not afraide Madam, I am your _Thebaldo_, in health, alive, and never as yet died, neither have I received any wounds to kill mee, as you and my bretheren have formerly imagined. Some better assurance getting possession of her soule, as knowing him perfectly by his voyce, and looking more stedfastly on his face, which constantly avouched him to be _Thebaldo_; the teares trickling amaine downe her faire cheekes, shee ran to embrace him, casting her armes about his necke, and kissing him a thousand times, saying; _Thebaldo_, my true and faithfull Husband, nothing in the World can be so welcome to me. _Thebaldo_ having most kindly kissed and embraced her, said; Sweete wife, time will not now allow us those ceremonious curtesies, which (indeede) so long a separation doe justly challenge; but I must about a more weightie businesse, to have your Father safe and soundly delivered, which I hope to doe before to morrow at night, when you shall heare tydings to your better contentment. And questionlesse, if I speede no worse then my good hope perswadeth me, I will see you againe to night, and acquaint you at better leysure, in such things as I cannot doe now at this present.