"But I am tired of waiting for my
joy and luck." Then her nurse assured her that she would help
her in every way, telling her to have no further fear. She said
that as soon as she set to work she would bring it about that
there would be no man, upon seeing her, who would not certainly
believe that the soul had left the body after she had drunk of a
potion which would leave her cold, colourless, pale, and stiff,
without power of speech and deprived of health; yet she would be
alive and well, and would have no sensations of any kind, and
would be none the worse for a day and a night entire spent in the
sepulchre and bier. (39)
(Vv. 5467-5554.) When Fenice heard these words, she thus spoke
in reply: "Nurse, I commit myself to you, and, with full
confidence in you, will take no steps in my own behalf. I am in
your hands; so think of my interests, and tell all the people who
are here to betake themselves away, for I am ill, and they bother
me." So, like a prudent woman, she said to them: "My lords, my
lady is not well, and desires you all to go away. You are
talking loud and making a noise, and the noise is disagreeable to
her. She can get no rest or repose so long as you are in the
room. I never remember her to have complained of such a sickness
as this so violent and serious does it seem.
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