The tender years of Auristella, the yet tenderer years of Constance, and the middle age of Ricla, might well have called for all the pomp and luxury of equipages for so long a journey as the one they were about to undertake; but the pious devotion of Auristella had made her vow, that from the moment she arrived on terra firma, she would make her way to Rome on foot, and the others not willing to be behind her in devotion, all with one consent, both men and women, were of the same opinion that the journey should be performed on foot, adding, if necessary, that they would beg from door to door; therefore they put by Ricla's wealth, and Periander determined not to dispose of the diamond cross that Auristella wore, but to keep it, as well as her invaluable pearls, for a future occasion; all they did was to buy a baggage mule, to carry what was too heavy for their own shoulders. They provided themselves with walking sticks, as much for support as defence; and some small swords; and in this humble and lowly array they quitted Lisbon, rich only in their beauty and prudence, the fame of which was the universal subject of discourse; and in every circle and assembly there, nothing was talked of but the extreme and extraordinary loveliness and wisdom of the foreign pilgrims. In this way, travelling between two and three leagues a day, they arrived at Badajoz, the governor of which had already heard from Lisbon that the new pilgrims were to come that road. They, upon entering the city, took up their lodging in a house in which already a company of comedians had taken their quarters, who were going to rehearse this very night, a piece they were about to perform in public at the house of the Corregidor. The moment they saw Auristella and Constance, they were struck, as all were at first sight, with surprise and admiration; but the most enchanted of the party was a poet, (Note 6) who came with the company on purpose to help and patch up and mend old plays, and also write new ones, an occupation that brought him more work than profit, and more amusement than honour. However, good poetry is always like clear water; it improves all unclean things; like the sun it passes over all impurities without being defiled by them. It is a gleam of light that shines forth from a dark corner, not burning, but illuming all it meets with. In fine this poet, whose necessities had compelled him to exchange Parnassus and the Castalian springs for the stagnant pools and channels of roads and inns, was the one who was most struck by Auristella's beauty, and he immediately set her down as good for the company, and fit to be an actress, without inquiring or knowing whether she could speak the Castilian language or not. Her form and figure pleased him; her graceful manner delighted him; he saw her at once in imagination, apparelled in the short coat of a man; then as rapidly she appeared to his mind's eye drest as a nymph; but almost in