I. The ladies of this land wish to begin here a base, cruel war and imitate the peasants. In the plain or on the hill they plan to raise a city with towers, so exalted is the honour of her who casts their worth into oblivion and prizes highly her own, being the flower of all the best: Lady Beatrice; for she so surpasses them that they will all raise their standards and wage war against her, with fire and smoke and dust.
II. The citizens assemble, and build walls and moats. Ladies arrive from all sides, and without a summons, for their merit, youth and beauty are at stake. And I believe that the daughter of the Marquis will in this way have many a joust, for she has won every virtue and every good courtly quality in peace; and since she is worthy and noble and of high breeding, she will remain at peace no longer than her father, who has turned once more to the lance and the bow.
III. Ladies from Versilia hasten to enter the army, Isobel and Willa and Lady Henrietta, so too the mother and daughter from Incisa, cost what it may; straightway from Lenta comes Lady Agnes, and from Ventimiglia, secretly, Lady Wilhelmina. Soon the city will be erect. From the Canavese there comes a truly great company, from Tuscany too, and there come ladies from Romagna, Lady Thomasina, and the mistress of Soragna.
IV. Angela and Garsenda, Palmyra and Lady Aldice, Lady Alda and Lady Berlenda, Lady Agnes and Lady Eloise insist that Lady Beatrice must surrender youth to them; otherwise the mistresses of Ponzone will demand from her reparation. And, yonder beyond Mont Cenis, the city summons Contessina to wage war forthwith against her who is so kind and so fair that her gracious person robs Damicella and all the others of their fresh and youthful colour.
V. Maria from Sardinia and the lady of San Giorgio, Bertha and Bastarda call together all their forces: from here to the borders no young lady of Lombardy may remain behind. And I know that this pleases Lady Beatrice, for their rear-guard cannot be so strong as to overwhelm her true and certain glory. They give their signal, and ride in exultation. They have built the city and have called it Troy: as podestà, they elect my lady of Savoy.
VI. The citizens boast that they will form their army in battle array, and the bell sounds. The old commune comes, and arrogantly orders each one to advance. Then it declares that the fair Beatrice is now sovereign over what the commune used to hold: thereby it is utterly dishonoured and confounded. The trumpets sound, and the podestà cries: “Let us demand from her beauty and courtliness, merit and youth”, and all cry: “So be it!”
VII. They leave the city and move forward their war-chariot; and the old commune mounts, and they throw on their backs cuirasses of pigskin with which they cover their bones. They have jerkins, bows and quivers, and they do not fear rain, nor does bad weather irk them. Now we shall witness great assaults. On all sides they begin the battle. They purpose to cast down Lady Beatrice from her glory, but it avails them naught, were they four times their number.
VIII. To pierce the walls they make engines and siege-towers, and stretch catapults, bitches and mangonels, and light Greek fire, and make the quarrels fly; below, they breach the walls with battering-rams. And yet no surrender will come from her youthful, fair person, joyous and fair-featured. All cry: “Up and across the barrier!” one to the other; the third one holds the sling, and all around the engines fire.
IX. Lady Beatrice mounts and goes to arm herself with merit. She wishes neither hauberk nor doublet, and she advances to strike the one she confronts, for whom death is near. She attacks, and lays low those near and far. Such great assaults has she made that she confounds the enemy; then she spurs on till she breaks the chariot in pieces. So many has she captured and unseated and slain that the old commune is dismayed and loses heart, till in the end she has confined it within Troy, behind the gate.
X. Lady Beatrice, I am well pleased that you have been saved from these old ladies, for your noble person has merit and youth, and has slain their prowess.
XI. Fair Knight, my love for you comforts me and gives me joy and gladdens and delights me, when other folk are dismayed and lose heart.
