There, by the will of the gods, I fell in love with the wife of Terentius, the innkeeper; you knew Melissa of Tarentum, that pretty round-checked little wench.

It was no carnal passion, so hear me, Hercules, it wasn't; I was not in love with her physical charms.

No, it was because she was such a good sport.

I never asked her for a thing and had her deny me; if she had an as, I had half.

I trusted her with everything I had and never was done out of anything.