Monna piccarda was a rich and lovely widow who lived with her two brothers in a fine house near a church.
The Canon of the church, unlike other good men of his calling, had an eye for a shapely body and a pretty face. This was more than usually offensive since he was old, fat and pompous.
When Monna Piccarda came to church, the Canon's eyes never left her. He examined her intently from head to foot while the spark of desire was fanned to a roaring flame within him.
Before long, he was making advances to her. She found him tiresome, but being a lady of good breeding, declined cordially.
The Canon was boorishly persistent. At last, Monna Piccarda told him, with cold courtesy: "Dear Canon, you implore me to love you when I love you already. I love you as I love my brothers, and that is the way you should love me. Any other kind of love between us--a priest and a widow--is out of the question."
A sensible man would have taken that for a final answer, but the Canon continued to plague her.
And so Monna Piccarda decided to put a stop to it once and for all. With the aid of her brothers, to whom she confided, a plan was adopted.
The next day, the Canon accosted her as usual and was surprised when she replied: "Gentle sir, no castle may be stormed forever without falling. Your entreaties have at last touched my heart. I am yours."
"Monna Piccarda, I am overjoyed!" cried the Canon. "I will say no more. Only tell me this: when and where?"
"When?" echoed the lady. "Whenever you wish. Where? Ah, that is another matter. Where, indeed?"
"In your house, perhaps?"
"I think not, for I live with my brothers. Yet you might come to me there, if the room were kept dark and you were not to utter a sound. My brothers sleep in the very next chamber."
"So be it," sighed the Canon. "Expect me this very night!"
Monna Piccarda hurried home and summoned her maid-servant -- a hooknosed, snaggle-toothed, squint-eyed wench called Ciutazza. Whereas Monna Piccarda's coloring was pink and white, Ciutazza's was yellow and green; and her legs, unlike the straight, creamy limbs of the lady's, were both bowed and knockkneed and of uneven lengths.
"Ciutazza," said the lady, "do something for me tonight and I will buy you a new chemise of finest silk."
"A silk chemise?" croaked Ciutazza, joyfully. "What must I do?"
"Lie with a man."
"A man?" Ciutazza found this more exciting than the chemise.
"Yes, in my bed. But you must not say a word -- and, above all, you must not light the lamp."
"I will do it."
That night, the Canon came to the house. Finding the door open, he entered quietly and crept into Monna Piccarda's bed-chamber. Without a word, he climbed into bed and embraced the woman who was waiting there for him.
At the highest pinnacle of his pleasure, the door was thrown open and the brightness of a lamp filled the room. Holding the lamp was Monna Piccarda. With her were her two brothers and the Bishop.
At the sight of Monna Piccarda, the bewildered Canon turned to see what woman he had been enjoying. Ciutazza gazed at him with loving eyes.
The Bishop sternly reprimanded him and sent him off under guard for punishment.
The penalty was severe, and the shame worse, but the Canon had an even harder cross to bear. To his dying day, he shuddered at the thought of lying with a hook-nosed, snaggle-toothed, squinteyed, bow-legged, knock-kneed creature like Ciutazza.
The door was thrown open and the brightness of a lamp filled the room.
