ABSTRACT
Just as soon as the lady began to speak, Ameto reverted to his prior thoughts, but with a more moderate desire. He banished his vain fancies, whose achievement he realized were impossible, and he entered with sweet reflection upon real matters, speaking to himself in this way from time to time: “Now good gods, although these magnificent women love others, still I am with them here, where many, certainly more worthy than I, would long to be; and yet, by special grace I feed my eager eyes on their beauties. Now how many would seek no further than that which I perhaps possess, without recognizing it? I do not know what deity I should thank for so much grace, if not my beloved Lia. Certainly I cannot imagine that the Trojan Paris was able to revel in the beauties he saw more than I. 1 Oh gods, be witnesses to what I declare; for I will say something perhaps not credible, yet true. In the deep valley of his wood on Ida, Paris saw three goddesses, but here in the open light I see seven; and not one of them is surpassed in beauty by any true goddess.
