Which tydings comming to the hearing of Signior _Gentile_, by one that was his endeared friend: Although (while she lived) he could never be gracious in her favour, yet her so sudden death did greatly grieve him, whereupon he discoursed in this sort with himselfe. Deare Madame _Catharina_, I am not a little sorry for thy death, although (during thy life-time) I was scarcely worthy of one kind looke: Yet now being dead, thou canst not prohibite me, but I may robbe thee of a kisse. No sooner had hee spoke the words, but it beeing then night, and taking such order, as none might know of his departure: hee mounted on horse-backe, accompanied onely with one servant, and stayed no where, till hee came to the vault where the Lady was buried. Which when he had opened, with instruments convenient for the purpose, he descended downe into the vault, and kneeled downe by the Beere whereon she lay, and in her wearing garments, according to the usuall manner, with teares trickling mainly downe his cheekes, he bestowed infinite sweet kisses on her. But as we commonly see, that mens desires are never contented, but still will presume on further advantages, especially such as love entirely: so fared it with _Gentile_, who being once minded to get him gone, as satisfied with the oblation of his kisses; would needs yet step backe againe, saying. Why should I not touch her yvory breast, the Adamant that drew all desires to adore her? Ah let me touch it now, for never hereafter can I bee halfe so happy. Overcome with this alluring appetite, gently he laid his hand upon her breast, with the like awefull respect, as if she were living, and holding it so an indifferent while: either he felt, or his imagination so perswaded him, the heart of the Lady to beate and pant. Casting off all fond feare, and the warmth of his increasing the motion: his inward soule assured him, that she was not dead utterly, but had some small sense of life remaining in her, whereof he would needs be further informed. So gently as possible he could, and with the helpe of his man, he tooke her forth of the monument, & laying her softly on his horse before him, conveighed her closely to his house in _Bologna_. Signior _Gentile_ had a worthy Lady to his Mother, a woman of great wisdome and vertue, who understanding by her Sonne, how matters had happened; moved with compassion, and suffering no one in the house to know what was done, made a good fire, and very excellent Bathe, which recalled back againe wrong-wandering life. Then fetching a vehement sigh, opening her eyes, & looking very strangely about her, she said. Alas! where am I now? whereto the good old Lady kindly replyed, saying. Comfort your selfe Madame, for you are in a good place.