Amaranth had many nicknames, such as careless weed and prostrate pigweed. It also had another name—bleeding love. Its English name, "amaranth," carried two meanings: besides the plant itself, it also meant eternity.
The Spaniards greatly disliked amaranth. When they first arrived in South America, they discovered that the Aztecs mixed the blood of living people with vegetable dough, baked it into cakes, and distributed them among their followers to eat.
Still, it could be cooked like spinach. Even now, Mexicans used amaranth seeds mixed with honey to make a dessert called "alegria" (happiness).
No matter how hard the Spaniards tried, they could not eradicate amaranth. Its seed pods could contain half a million seeds, and those seeds could take root anywhere. It was precisely because of its tenacity and prolific growth that amaranth had survived to this day.
This weed-like vegetable rarely appeared on the tables of the wealthy; it was mainly eaten by commoners.
Returning to Florence in the fourteenth century, a group of cheerful young noblemen and women continued taking turns telling stories, just as they had for the previous nine days. On the tenth day, they had chosen a king, and the king wearing the crown ordered Emilia, who had been queen on the first day, to tell a story.
Although the country of Friuli had a cold climate, it was blessed with beautiful mountains and rivers, and its scenery was superb. There was a city there called Udine. Once, a beautiful noblewoman named Dianora had lived in that city. Her husband, Gilberto, was a wealthy local gentleman, a charming and dashing man. Because of her beauty, she was loved by a lord named Ansaldo Gradensis. He was of high rank, exceptionally brave, attentive, and courteous, so his name was known far and wide. Because he loved