“How is that?” said the professor. “Last night, after I had been a short time at the lady’s house, in came the husband, and though he hunted every where in search of me, he could not find me, for she had hidden me under a heap of damp linen, that were going to be dried; and the lady talked the poor fellow over so, that he soon went away; when we had a large capon for supper, drank some excellent wine, and had the best fun you can imagine, and I have promised to return again to night.”
“Be sure,” said the professor, “when you go this evening, to let me know.” Bacciuolo answered he would, and left the professor.
The professor meanwhile was in the utmost rage, and actually beside himself—so much so that he was not able to attend at the classes, he was so broken hearted. However, he consoled himself with the idea that he should catch him at night. So he purchased a breast plate, a light armour, and with his cuirass, rapier, and stiletto, cut quite a martial figure. When the time came, Bacciuolo innocently went to the professor, and said, “I am going.”
“Well,” said the professor, “go, and return to-morrow, and relate to me what may have happened.”
“I will,” said Bacciuolo, and marched off to the lady’s house. The professor put on his armour, and followed Bacciuolo close at his heels, and thought of overtaking him at the door. The lady, who was upon the watch, opened the door quickly, let in her lover, and shut it again like lightning. When the professor reached the house he began to knock with all his might, making a tremendous noise. The lady in an instant put out the light, and made Bacciuolo slide behind her, opened the door, and clasping her arms on the neck of her husband, whirled him round and gave Bacciuolo an opportunity of slipping out; at the same time crying, “help! help! the man is mad, the man is mad;” still holding the poor gentleman tight round the waist.
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The neighbours, upon hearing this noise, ran out, and seeing the professor thus armed at all points, with his huge breast-plate, cuirass, helmet, long rapier, and stiletto, and the lady crying out, “Hold him, hold him, he is mad; he has cracked his brain with study;” thought it was really true, and that he had lost his wits. They began to say to him, “what means all this, good Signor? go to bed and rest—do not torment yourself in this way.”