Florence had been sealed off because of the Black Death, and a group of young noblemen and women had left the city for a villa in the countryside.
These cheerful young people decided that during the lockdown, they would choose a leader every day. Whether man or woman, everyone was to respect and obey that person, while the leader would devote themselves to planning how to make everyone happier. They took branches of laurel and wove them into a beautiful, glorious wreath. Whoever wore it could govern the rest.
On the first day, they elected the woman who had proposed the idea as queen. On the second day, it was another woman's turn. As the rising sun appeared and birds sang sweetly among the green branches, they all gathered in the garden without prior arrangement. They strolled leisurely over the dew-speckled grass, as carefree and happy as they had been the day before.
Then, at the queen's command, they sat down on the cool lawn and continued telling stories.
There was a judge in Pisa named Riccardo di Chinzica. He wanted a young, beautiful woman for a wife. Had he measured himself by the standards he applied to others, he would never have done such a thing. As it happened, Lotto Gualandi gave him his daughter in marriage. Her name was Bartolomea, and among the young ladies of Pisa, she stood head and shoulders above the rest—one of the greatest beauties there.
The judge welcomed her home as though he had acquired a priceless treasure and held a grand wedding. On their wedding night, the dry, skinny, weak-spirited judge tried to perform his marital duties. Yet after that single attempt, he was practically wiped out. The next morning, he had to drink strong white wine, eat sweets and candied fruit,