The day was not far advanced when the two venerable hermits came to see their guests, and spreading upon the floor of the hermitage green and dry rushes, they made a carpet, more beautiful, perhaps, than may often be seen in kings' palaces. They placed thereon a great variety of fruits, both fresh and dried, and bread, not very newly-baked, but almost like biscuit. The board was adorned with vases or cups, made of cork, curiously worked, filled with the clearest water; the repast and the pure water, which showed its clearness even in spite of the dark hue of the cork cups, aided by hunger, made them all gladly seat themselves round the table; and as soon as they had finished their short and pleasant meal, Arnoldo entreated Renato to tell them his history, and what could be the cause of his being brought to such a life of poverty and privation. Now, as Renato was of noble birth, to which order courtesy ever belongs, he, without waiting to be asked a second time, began to relate the history of his life in these words. [Illustration] CHAPTER XX. _Renato relates the History of the Events that led him to the Isle of the Hermitages._ "When past sufferings are described in present prosperity, there is often greater pleasure in telling of them than there was pain in their endurance, but this cannot be said in my case, for I am not out of the trouble, but still in the depth of my sorrows. "I was born in France, and I belong to a noble family, rich and worthy; I was brought up in the performance of all knightly exercises, and taught to regulate my thoughts by my condition; but nevertheless, I was bold enough to fix them upon the lady Eusebia, a lady belonging to the queen's household, but it was only with my eyes that I ever gave her to understand that I adored her, and she, either from prudence or because she was not aware of it, never let me think, by word or look, that she understood me; and although disdain and indifference generally put an end to love, in its beginning for want of hope to sustain and feed it, in my case it had a contrary effect, for the silence of Eusebia lent wings to my hopes, which bore me up to the very Heavens to try and deserve her. However, the jealousy or undue curiosity of another gentleman, also a Frenchman, named Lisomir, not less favoured by fortune than by birth, discovered my secret feelings, and instead of viewing them with sympathy or pity, he felt nothing but envy and malice. It should have been quite otherwise, for there are two great griefs in love, which reduce one to the last extremity; one is, to love and not be beloved in return; the other, to love and be abhorred; neither absence nor jealousy can equal these. One day Lisomir went to the king, though I had never given him any cause of offence, and told him that I and Eusebia entertained a secret and illicit correspondence,