This was Peppe, that most wise of fools.

He hastened after Francesco, and while the knight was disarming he came to voice his suspicions.

But Francesco drove him out with impatience, and Peppe went sorrowing and swearing that the wisdom of the fool was truly better than the folly of the wise.
Throughout that day Gonzaga hardly stirred from Valentina's side.
He talked with her in the morning at great length and upon subjects poetical or erudite, by which he meant to display his vast mental superiority over the swashbuckling Francesco.

In the evening, when the heat of the day was spent, and whilst that same Messer Francesco was at some defensive measures on the walls, Gonzaga played at bowls with Valentina and her ladies--the latter having now recovered from the panic to which earlier they had been a prey.
That morning Gonzaga had stood at bay, seeing his plans crumble.

That evening, after the day spent in Valentina's company--and she so sweet and kind to him--he began to take heart of grace once more, and his volatile mind whispered to his soul the hope that, after all, things might well be as he had first intended, if he but played his cards adroitly, and did not mar his chances by the precipitancy that had once gone near to losing him.