Dioneo's story, whereat the ladies laughed the less for shamefastness
rather than for disrelish, being ended, the queen, taking
note that the term of her sovereignty was come, rose to her feet,
and took off the laurel wreath and set it graciously upon Elisa's
head, saying: " Madam, 'tis now your turn to bear sway."
dignity accepted, Elisa followed in all respects the example of her
predecessors: she first conferred with the seneschal, and directed him
how meetly to order all things during the time of her sovereignty;
which done to the satisfaction of the company: 
she, "have we heard how with bright sallies, and ready retorts, and
sudden devices, not a few have known how to repugn with apt checks
the bites of others, or to avert imminent perils; and because 'tis an
excellent argument, and may be profitable, I ordain that to-morrow,
God helping us, the following be the rule of our discourse; to wit,
that it be of such as by some sprightly sally have repulsed an attack,
or by some ready retort or device have avoided loss, peril or scorn."
The rule being heartily approved by all, the queen rose and dismissed
them till supper-time. 
So the honourable company, seeing the queen
risen, rose all likewise, and as their wont was, betook them to their
diversions as to each seemed best. 
But when the cicalas had hushed
their chirping, all were mustered again for supper; and having blithely
feasted, they all addressed them to song and dance. 
And the queen,
while Emilia led a dance, called for a song from Dioneo, who at once
came out with: Monna Aldruda, come perk up thy mood, a piece
of glad tidings I bring thee. 
Whereat all the ladies fell a laughing,
and most of all the queen, who bade him give them no more of that,
but sing another. 
Quoth Dioneo: "Madam, had I a tabret, I
would sing: Up with your smock, Monna Lapa! or: Oh!
the greensward under the olive! Or perchance you had liefer I
should give you: Woe is me, the wave of the sea! But no tabret
have I: wherefore choose which of these others you will have.
Perchance you would like: Now hie thee to us forth, that so it
may be cut, as May the fields about."
"No," returned the queen,
"give us another."
"Then," said Dioneo, "I will sing: Monna
Simona, embarrel, embarrel. Why, 'tis not the month of October."
"Now a plague upon thee," said the queen, with a laugh; "give us
a proper song, wilt thou? for we will have none of these."
fear, Madam," replied Dioneo; "only say which you prefer. I have
more than a thousand songs by heart. Perhaps you would like:
This my little covert, make I ne'er it overt; or:
husband mine; or: A hundred pounds were none too high a
price for me a cock to buy."
The queen now shewed some offence,
though the other ladies laughed, and: "A truce to thy jesting,
Dioneo," said she, "and give us a proper song: else thou mayst prove
the quality of my ire."
Whereupon Dioneo forthwith ceased his
fooling, and sang on this wise:
So ravishing a light
Doth from the fair eyes of my mistress move
As keeps me slave to her and thee, O Love.
A beam from those bright orbs did radiate
That flame that through mine own eyes to my breast
Did whilom entrance gain.
Thy majesty, O Love, thy might, how great
They be, 'twas her fair face did manifest:
Whereon to brood still fain,
I felt thee take and chain
Each sense, my soul enthralling on such wise
That she alone henceforth evokes my sighs.
Wherefore, O dear my Lord, myself I own
Thy slave, and, all obedience, wait and yearn,
Till thy might me console.
Yet wot I not if it be throughly known
How noble is the flame wherewith I burn,
My loyalty how whole
To her that doth control
Ev'n in such sort my mind that shall I none,
Nor would I, peace receive, save hers alone.
And so I pray thee, sweet my Lord, that thou
Give her to feel thy fire, and shew her plain
How grievous my disease.
This service deign to render; for that now
Thou seest me waste for love, and in the pain
Dissolve me by degrees:
And then the apt moment seize
My cause to plead with her, as is but due
From thee to me, who fain with thee would sue.
When Dioneo's silence shewed that his song was ended, the
queen accorded it no stinted meed of praise; after which she
caused not a few other songs to be sung. 
Thus passed some part
of the night; and then the queen, taking note that its freshness had
vanquished the heat of the day, bade all go rest them, if they would,
till the morning.