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Ancients and Moderns under the Empire of Circe: Machiavelli’s The Ass, Translation2 6 1by a rich, white cover,with which the little bed was covered.My mind was stupid and uncertain,95 frigid, sad, shy, and doubtful,not knowing how open was the path.And as the new bride lies tiredand ashamed and wrapped in the sheet,the first night near her husband,100 so around me, afraid,the bed covering enveloped melike one who is not inspired by his own virtue.But then after the lady had for a whilelooked at me, with veiled smile, she said:105 “Would I be with nettles or brambles armed?You may have what many alreadysighing to have it, let out more than a yell,and made a thousand quarrels and a thousand fights.You would well enter in some treacherous place,110 to find yourself with me again, or you would swimlike Leander 8 between Sestos and Abydos;why do you have so little virtue, that theseclothes which are between us make war on you,and you have laid so far away from me?”115 It is like when in prison one is locked,doubtful of life, an offender,he remains with his eyes looking at the ground;then, if it happens that he wins grace from his lordhe leaves every extraneous thought120 and takes much of boldness and valor,such was I, and such I became thanks to her humanereasoning, and I moved close to her,extending between the sheets my cold hand.And then as I touched her limbs,125 a sweetness so pleasing came into my heartthat I do not believe I will ever taste greater.My hand did not remain in one place,8From the Greek myth of Hero and Leander, he was the young man who swam across the Hellespontevery night to be with his beloved. One night he lost his way in a storm and drowned. Hero committedsuicide to be with him.