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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-06 03:00:38 -0800 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-02-06 03:00:38 -0800 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5a3e80e --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #52618 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/52618) diff --git a/old/52618-0.txt b/old/52618-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 22bda9c..0000000 --- a/old/52618-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16370 +0,0 @@ -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 52618 *** - -THE DECAMERON - -CONTAINING -An hundred pleasant Novels. - -_Wittily discoursed, betweene seven Honourable Ladies, and three Noble -Gentlemen._ - -The last Five Dayes. - - -London, Printed by -Isaac Jaggard, -1620. - - - - -TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE Sir PHILLIP HERBERT, Knight, Lord Baron of -Sherland, Earle of Montgomery, and Knight of the most Noble order of -the Garter. - - -_Having (by your Honourable command) translated this_ Decameron, _or_ -Cento Novelle, _sirnamed_ Il Principe Galeotto, _of ten dayes severall -discourses, grounded on variable and singuler Arguments, happening -betweene seaven Noble Ladies, and three very Honourable Gentlemen: -Although not attyred in such elegantcy of phrase, or nice curiosity of -stile, as a quicker and more sprightly wit could have performed, but -in such home-borne language, as my ability could stretch unto; yet it -commeth (in all duty) to kisse your Noble hand, and to shelter it selfe -under your Gracious protection, though not from the leering eye, and -over-lavish tongue of snarling Envy; yet from the power of his blasting -poyson, and malice of his machinations._ - - - - -_To the Reader._ - - -Bookes (Courteous Reader) may rightly be compared to _Gardens_; -wherein, let the painfull Gardiner expresse never so much care and -diligent endeavour; yet among the very fairest, sweetest, and freshest -Flowers, as also Plants of most precious Vertue; ill favouring and -stinking Weeds, fit for no use but the fire or mucke-hill, will spring -and sprout up. So fareth it with Bookes of the very best quality, let -the Author bee never so indulgent, and the Printer vigilant: yet both -may misse their ayme, by the escape of Errors and Mistakes, either in -sense or matter, the one fault ensuing by a ragged Written Copy; and -the other thorough want of wary Correction. If then the best Bookes -cannot be free from this common infirmity; blame not this then, of -farre lighter argument, wherein thy courtesie may helpe us both: His -blame, in acknowledging his more sufficiency, then to write so grosse -and absurdly: And mine, in pardoning unwilling Errours committed, which -thy judgement finding, thy pen can as easily correct. - - - _Farewell._ - - - - - The Table - - Dedication. - - To the Reader. - - * * * * * - - THE SIXT DAY, Governed under Madame Eliza. - - - _Wherein the Discourses or Novels there to bee recounted, doe concerne - such persons; who by some witty words (when any have taunted them) - have revenged themselves, in a sudden, unexpected and discreet - answere, thereby preventing losse, danger, scorne and disgrace, - retorting them on the busi-headed Questioners._ - - - The Argument of the first Novell. - - _A Knight requested Madame_ Oretta, _to ride behinde him on - horsebacke, and promised, to tell her an excellent Tale by the way. - But the Lady perceiving, that his discourse was idle, and much worse - delivered: entreated him to let her walke on foote againe._ - - _The Morall._ - - Reprehending the folly of such men, as undertake to report discourses, - which are beyond their wit and capacity, and gaine nothing but blame - for their labour. - - - The Argument of the second Novell. - - Cistio _a Baker, by a witty answere which he gave unto_ Messer Geri - Spina, _caused him to acknowledge a very indiscreet motion, which he - had made to the said_ Cistio. - - _The Morall._ - - Approving, that a request ought to be civill, before it should be - granted to any one whatsoever. - - - The Argument of the third Novell. - - Madam Nonna de Pulci, _by a sodaine answere, did put to silence a - Bishop of_ Florence, _and the Lord Marshall: having mooved a question - to the said Lady, which seemed to come short of honesty._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is declared, that mockers doe sometimes meet with their - matches in mockery, and to their owne shame. - - - The Argument of the fourth Novell. - - Chichibio, _the Cooke to_ Messer Currado Gianfiliazzi, _by a sodaine - pleasant answere which he made to his Master; converted his anger into - laughter, and thereby escaped the punishment, that_ Messer _meant to - impose on him._ - - _The Morall._ - - Whereby plainely appeareth, that a sodaine witty, and merry answere, - doth oftentimes appease the furious choller of an angry man. - - - The Argument of the fift Novell. - - Messer Forese da Rabatte, _and Maister_ Giotto, _a Painter by his - profession, comming together from_ Mugello, _scornefully reprehended - one another for their deformity of body._ - - _The Morall._ - - Whereby may be observed, that such as will speake contemptibly of - others, ought (first of all) to looke respectively on their owne - imperfections. - - - The Argument of the sixt Novell. - - _A yong and ingenious Scholler, being unkindly reviled and smitten - by his ignorant Father, and through the procurement of an unlearned - Vicare; afterward attained to bee doubly revenged on him._ - - _The Morall._ - - Serving as an advertisment to unlearned Parents, not to be over-rash, - in censuring on Schollers imperfections, through any bad or - unbeseeming perswasions. - - - The Argument of the seaventh Novell. - - Madame Phillippa, _being accused by her Husband_ Rinaldo de Pugliese, - _because he tooke her in Adultery, with a yong Gentleman named_ - Lazarino de Guazzagliotori: _caused her to bee cited before a Judge. - From whom she delivered her selfe, by a sodaine, witty, and pleasant - answere, and moderated a severe strict Statute, formerly made against - women._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is declared, of what worth it is to confesse a truth, with a - facetious and witty excuse. - - - The Argument of the eighth Novell. - - Fresco da Celatico, _counselled and advised his Neece_ Cesca: _That if - such as deserved to bee looked on, were offensive to her eyes (as she - had often told him;) she should forbeare to looke on any._ - - _The Morall._ - - In just scorne of such unsightly and ill-pleasing surly Sluts, who - imagine none to bee faire or well-favoured, but themselves. - - - The Argument of the ninth Novell. - - Signior Guido Cavalcante, _with a sodaine and witty answere, - reprehended the rash folly of certaine Florentine Gentlemen, that - thought to scorne and flout him._ - - _The Morall._ - - Notably discovering the great difference that is betweene learning and - ignorance, upon Judicious apprehension. - - - The Argument of the tenth Novell. - - _Frier_ Onyon _promised certaine honest people of the Country, to shew - them a Feather of the same Phoenix, that was with_ Noah _in his Arke. - In sted whereof, he found Coales, which he avouched to be those very - coales, wherewith the same Phoenix was roasted._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein may be observed, what palpable abuses doe many times passe, - under the counterfeit Cloake of Religion. - - * * * * * - - THE SEAVENTH DAY, Governed under the Regiment of DIONEUS. - - _Wherein the Discourses are directed, for the discovery of such - policies and deceits, as women have used for beguiling of their - Husbands, either in respect of their love, or for the prevention - of some blame or scandall; escaping without sight, knowledge, or - otherwise._ - - - The Argument of the first Novell. - - John _of_ Lorraine _heard one knocke at his doore in the night time, - whereupon he awaked his Wife_ Monna Tessa. _Shee made him beleeve, that - it was a Spirit which knocked at the doore, and so they arose, going - both together to conjure the Spirit with a charme; and afterwards, - they heard no more knocking._ - - _The Morall._ - - Reprehending the simplicity of some sottish Husbands: And discovering - the wanton subtilties of some women, to compasse their unlawfull - desires. - - - The Argument of the second Novell. - - Peronella _hid a yong man her Friend and Lover, under a great brewing - Fat, uppon the sodaine returning home of her Husband; who tolde her, - that he had sold the saide Fat, and brought him that bought it, to - carry it away._ Peronella _replyed, That shee had formerly solde it - unto another, who was now underneath it, to see whether it were whole - and sound, or no. Whereupon, he being come forth from under it; shee - caused her Husband to make it neate and cleane, and so the last buyer - carried it away._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is declared, what hard and narrow shifts and distresses, such - as be seriously linked in Love, are many times enforced to undergoe: - according as their owne wit, and capacity of their surprizers, drive - them to extremities. - - - The Argument of the third Novell. - - _Friar_ Reynard, _falling in love with a Gentlewoman, Wife to a man - of good account; found the meanes to become her Gossip. Afterward, - he being conferring closely with her in her Chamber, and her Husband - comming sodainely thither: she made him beleeve, that he came thither - for no other ende; but to cure his God-sonne by a charme, of a - dangerous disease which he had by wormes._ - - _The Morall._ - - Serving as a friendly advertisement to married Women, that Monks, - Friars, and Priests may be none of their Gossips, in regard of - unavoydable perils ensuing thereby. - - - The Argument of the fourth Novell. - - Tofano _in the night season, did locke his Wife out of his house, and - she not prevailing to get entrance againe, by all the entreaties shee - could possibly use: made him beleeve that shee had throwne her selfe - into a Well, by casting a great stone into the same Well._ Tofano - _hearing the fall of the stone into the Well, and being perswaded - that it was his Wife indeede; came forth of his house, and ranne to - the Welles side. In the meane while, his Wife gotte into the house, - made fast the doore against her Husband, and gave him many reprochfull - speeches._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is manifested, that the malice and subtilty of a woman, - surpasseth all the Art or wit in man. - - - The Argument of the fift Novell. - - _A jealous man, clouded with the habite of a Priest, became the - Confessour to his owne Wife; who made him beleeve, that she was - deepely in love with a Priest, which came every night, and lay with - her. By meanes of which confession, while her jealous Husband watched - the doore of his house; to surprise the Priest when he came: she that - never meant to doe amisse, had the company of a secret friend who came - over the toppe of the house to visite her, while her foolish Husband - kept the doore._ - - _The Morall._ - - In just scorne and mockery of such jealous Husbands, that wil be idle - headed upon no occasion. And yet when they have good reason for it, - doe least of all suspect any such injury. - - - The Argument of the sixth Novell. - - _Madame_ Isabella, _delighting in the company of her affected - friend, named_ Lionello, _and she being likewise beloved by_ Signior - Lambertuccio: _At the same time as shee had entertained_ Lionello, - _she was also visited by_ Lambertuccio. _Her Husband returning home - in the very instant; she caused_ Lambertuccio _to runne foorth with - a drawne sword in his hand, and (by that meanes) made an excuse - sufficient for_ Lionello _to her Husband._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is manifestly discerned, that if Love be driven to a narrow - straite in any of his attempts; yet hee can accomplish his purpose by - some other supply. - - - The Argument of the seaventh Novell. - - Lodovico _discovered to his Mistresse Madame_ Beatrix, _how amourously - he was affected to her. She cunningly sent_ Egano _her Husband into - his garden, in all respects disguised like herselfe; while (friendly)_ - Lodovico _conferred with her the meane while. Afterward,_ Lodovico - _pretending a lascivious allurement of his Mistresse, thereby to wrong - his honest Master, instead of her, beateth_ Egano _soundly in the - Garden._ - - _The Morall._ - - Whereby is declared, that such as keepe many honest seeming servants, - may sometime finde a knave among them, and one that proves to bee - over-sawcy with his Master. - - - The Argument of the Eight Novell. - - Arriguccio Berlinghieri, _became immeasurably jealous of his Wife_ - Simonida, _who fastened a thred about her great toe, for to serve - as a signall, when her amourous friend should come to visite her._ - Arriguccio _findeth the fallacy, and while he pursueth the amorous - friend, shee causeth her Maide to lie in her bed against his returne: - whom he beateth extreamly, cutting away the lockes of her haire - (thinking he had done all this violence to his Wife_ Simonida:) _and - afterward fetcheth her Mother and Brethren, to shame her before them, - and so be rid of her. But they finding all his speeches to be false; - and reputing him to be a drunken jealous foole; all the blame and - disgrace falleth on himselfe._ - - _The Morall._ - - Whereby appeareth, that an Husband ought to be very well advised, - when he meaneth to discover any wrong offered by his Wife; except he - himselfe doe rashly run into all the shame and reproch. - - - The Argument of the Ninth Novell. - - Lydia, _a Lady of great beauty, birth, and honor, being Wife to_ - Nicostratus, _Governor of_ Argos, _falling in love with a Gentleman, - named_ Pyrrhus; _was requested by him (as a true testimony of her - unfeigned affection) to performe three severall actions of her selfe. - She did accomplish them all, and imbraced and kissed_ Pyrrhus _in the - presence of_ Nicostratus; _by perswading him, that whatsoever he saw, - was meerely false._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is declared, that great Lords may sometime be deceived by - their wives, as well as men of meaner condition. - - - The Argument of the tenth Novell. - - _Two Citizens of_ Sienna, _the one named_ Tingoccio Mini, _and the - other_ Meucio di Tora, _affected both one woman, called_ Monna Mita, - _to whom the one of them was a Gossip. The Gossip dyed, and appeared - afterward to his companion, according as he had formerly promised him - to doe, and told him what strange wonders he had seene in the other - world._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein such men are covertly reprehended, who make no care or - conscience at all of those things that should preserve them from sinne. - - * * * * * - - THE EIGHTH DAY, Governed under Madame LAURETTA. - - _Whereon all the Discourses, is, Concerning such Witty deceivings, as - have, or may be put in practise, by Wives to their Husbands, Husbands - to their Wives, Or one man towards another._ - - - The Argument of the First Novell. - - Gulfardo _made a match or wager, with the wife of_ Gasparuolo, _for - the obtaining of her amorous favour, in regard of a summe of money - first to be given her. The money he borrowed of her Husband, and - gave it in payment to her, as in case of discharging him from her - Husbands debt. After his returne home from_ Geneway, _he told him in - the presence of his wife, how hee had payde the whole summe to her, - with charge of delivering it to her Husband, which she confessed to be - true, albeit greatly against her will._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is declared, That such women as will make sale of their - honestie, are sometimes over-reached in their payment, and justly - served as they should be. - - - The Argument of the second Novell. - - _A lusty Priest of_ Varlungo, _fell in love with a prety woman, named_ - Monna Belcolore. _To compasse his amorous desire, hee left his cloake - (as a pledge of further payment) with her. By a subtile sleight - afterward, he borrowed a morter of her, which when hee sent home - againe in the presence of her husband, he demanded to have his Cloake - sent him, as having left it in pawne for the Morter. To pacifie her - Husband, offended that she did not lend the Priest the Morter without - a pawne: she sent him backe his Cloake againe, albeit greatly against - hir will._ - - _The Morall._ - - Approving, that no promise is to be kept with such women as will make - sale of their honesty for Coine. - - - The Argument of the Third Novell. - - Calandrino, Bruno, _and_ Buffalmaco, _being Painters by profession, - travailed to the Plaine of_ Mugnone, _to finde the precious stone - called Helitropium._ Calandrino _perswading himselfe to have found it, - returned home to his house heavy loaden with stones. His wife rebuking - him for his absence, he groweth into anger, and shrewdly beates her. - Afterward, when the case is debated by his other friends_ Bruno _&_ - Buffalmaco, _all is found to be meere folly._ - - _The Morall._ - - Reprehending the simplicity of such men, as are too much addicted to - credulity, and will give credit to every thing they heare. - - - The Argument of the Fourth Novell. - - _The Provost belonging to the Cathedrall Church of_ Fiesola, _fell - in love with a Gentlewoman, being a widdow, and named_ Piccarda, _who - hated him as much as he loved her. He immagining that he lay with her: - by the Gentlewomans Brethren, and the Bishop under whom he served, was - taken in bed with her Mayde, an ugly, foule, deformed Slut._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is declared, how love oftentimes is so powerfull in aged men, - and driveth them to such doating, that it redoundeth to their great - disgrace and punishment. - - - The Argument of the fift Novell. - - _Three pleasant companions, plaid a merry prank with a Judge - (belonging to the Marquesate of_ Ancona) _at_ Florence, _at such time - as he sat on the bench, & hearing criminall causes._ - - _The Morall._ - - Giving admonition, that for the managing of publike affaires, no other - persons are or ought to bee appointed, but such as be honest, and meet - to sit on the seate of Authority. - - - The Argument of the sixt Novell. - - Bruno _and_ Buffalmaco _stole a yong Brawne from_ Calandrino, _and - for his recovery thereof, they used a kinde of pretended conjuration, - with Pils made of Ginger and strong Malmesey. But insted of this - application, they gave him two pils of a Dogges dates or dousets, - confected in Alloes, by meanes whereof they made him beleeve, that hee - had robd himselfe. And for feare they should report this theft to his - Wife, they made him to buy another Brawne._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is declared, how easily a plaine and simple man may bee made a - foole, when he dealeth with crafty companions. - - - The Argument of the seaventh Novell. - - _A yong Gentleman being a Scholler, fell in love with a Ladie, named_ - Helena, _she being a woman, and addicted in affection unto another - Gentleman. One whole night in cold winter, she caused the Scholler to - expect her comming, in an extreame frost and snow. In revenge whereof, - by his imagined Art and skill, he made her to stand naked on the top - of a Tower, the space of a whole day, and in the hot moneth of July, - to be Sun-burnt and bitten with Waspes and Flies._ - - _The Morall._ - - Serving as an admonition to all Gentlewomen, not to mocke Gentlemen - Schollers, when they make meanes of love to them, except they intend - to seeke their owne shame by disgracing them. - - - The Argument of the eighth Novell. - - _Two neere dwelling Neighbours, the one beeing named_ Spinelloccio - Tavena, _and the other_ Zeppa di Mino, _frequenting each others - company daily together;_ Spinelloccio _Cuckolded his Friend and - Neighbour. Which happening to the knowledge of_ Zeppa, _hee prevailed - so well with the Wife of_ Spinelloccio, _that he being lockt up in a - Chest, hee revenged his wrong at that instant, so that neyther of them - complained of his misfortune._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is approved, that hee which offereth shame and disgrace to his - neighbour, may receive the like injury (if not worse) by the same man. - - - The Argument of the Ninth Novell. - - _Maestro_ Simone, _an idle headed Doctor of Physicke, was thrown by_ - Bruno _and_ Buffalmaco _into a common Leystall of filth: the Physitian - fondly beleeving, that (in the night time) he should be made one of a - new created company, who usually went to see wonders at_ Corsica, _and - there in the Leystall they left him._ - - _The Morall._ - - Approving, that titles of honour, learning, and dignity, are not - alwayes bestowne on the wisest men. - - - The Argument of the tenth Novell. - - _A Cicilian Curtezan, named Madam_ Biancafiore, _by her subtle policy - deceived a yong Merchant called_ Salabetto, _of all his mony he had - taken for his wares at_ Palermo. _Afterward, he making shew of coming - thither againe with far richer Merchandises then before: made the - meanes to borrow a great summe of money, leaving her so base a pawne, - as well requited her for her former cousenage._ - - _The Morall._ - - Approving, that such as meet with cunning Harlots, suffering them - selves to be deceyved, must sharpen their wits, to make them requitall - in the same kind. - - * * * * * - - THE NINTH DAY, Governed under Madame Æmillia. - - Whereon, the Argument of each severall Discourse, is not limited to - any one peculiar subject: but everie one remaineth at liberty, to - speake of whatsoever themselves best pleaseth. - - - The Argument of the first Novell. - - _Madam_ Francesca, _a Widdow of_ Pistoya, _being affected by two - Florentine Gentlemen, the one named_ Rinuccio Palermini, _and the - other_ Alessandro Chiarmontesi, _and she bearing no good will - to either of them, ingeniously freed her selfe from both their - importunate suites. One of them shee caused to lye as dead in a - grave, and the other to fetch him from thence: so neither of them - accomplishing what they were enjoyned, failed of their expectation._ - - _The Morall._ - - Approving, that chast and honest women, ought rather to deny - importunate suiters, by subtle and ingenious means, then fall into the - danger of scandall and slander. - - - The Argument of the second Novell. - - _Madame_ Usimbalda, _Lady Abbesse of a Monastery of Nuns in_ - Lombardie, _arising hastily in the night time without a Candle, - to take one of her Daughter Nunnes in bed with a yong Gentleman, - whereof she was enviously accused, by certaine of her other Sisters: - The Abbesse her selfe (being at the same time in bed with a Priest) - imagining to have put on her head her plaited vayle, put on the - Priests breeches. Which when the poore Nunne perceyved; by causing the - Abbesse to see her owne error, she got her selfe to be absolved, and - had the freer liberty afterward, to be more familiar with her frend, - then formerly she had bin._ - - _The Morall._ - - Whereby is declared, that whosoever is desirous to reprehend sinne in - other men, should first examine himselfe, that he be not guiltie of - the same crime. - - - The Argument of the third Novell. - - _Master_ Simon _the Physitian, by the perswasions of_ Bruno, - Buffalmaco, _and a third Companion, named_ Nello, _made_ Calandrino - _to beleeve, that he was conceived great with childe. And having - Physicke ministred to him for the disease: they got both good fatte - Capons and money of him, and so cured him, without any other manner of - deliverance._ - - _The Morall._ - - Discovering the simplicity of some silly witted men, and how easie a - matter it is to abuse and beguile them. - - - The Argument of the Fourth Novell. - - Francesco Fortarigo, _played away all that he had at_ Buonconvento, - _and likewise the money of_ Francesco Aniolliero, _being his Master: - Then running after him in his shirt, and avouching that hee had robbed - him: he caused him to be taken by Pezants of the Country, clothed - himselfe in his Masters wearing garments, and (mounted on his horse) - rode thence to_ Sienna, _leaving_ Aniolliero _in his shirt, and walked - bare-footed._ - - _The Morall._ - - Serving as an admonition to all men, for taking Gamesters and - Drunkards into their service. - - - The Argument of the fifte Novell. - - Calandrino _became extraordinarily enamoured of a young Damosell, - named_ Nicholetta. Bruno _prepared a Charme or writing for him, - avouching constantly to him, that so soone as he touched the Damosell - therewith, she should follow him whithersoever hee would have her. She - being gone to an appointed place with him, hee was found there by his - wife, and dealt withall according to his deserving._ - - _The Morall._ - - In just reprehension of those vaine-headed fooles, that are led and - governed by idle perswasions. - - - The Argument of the Sixth Novell. - - _Two yong Gentlemen, the one named_ Panuccio, _and the other_ Adriano, - _lodged one night in a poore Inne, whereof one of them went to bed to - the Hostes daughter, and the other (by mistaking his way in the darke) - to the Hostes wife. He which lay with the daughter, hapned afterward - to the Hostes bed, and told him what he had done, as thinking he spake - to his owne companion. Discontentment growing betweene them, the - mother perceiving her errour, went to bed to her daughter, and with - discreete language, made a generall pacification._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is manifested, that an offence committed ignorantly, and by - mistaking; ought to be covered with good advise, and civill discretion. - - - The Argument of the seaventh Novell. - - Talano de Molese _dreamed, That a Wolfe rent and tore his wives face - and throate. Which dreame he told to her, with advise to keep her - selfe out of danger; which she refusing to doe, received what followed._ - - _The Morall._ - - Whereby (with some indifferent reason) it is concluded, that Dreames - do not alwayes fall out to be leasings. - - - The Argument of the Eight Novell. - - Blondello _(in a merry manner) caused_ Guiotto _to beguile himselfe of - a good dinner: for which deceit,_ Guiotto _became cunningly revenged, - by procuring_ Blondello _to be unreasonably beaten and misused._ - - _The Morall._ - - Whereby plainly appeareth, that they which take delight in deceiving - others, do well deserve to be deceived themselves. - - - The Argument of the Ninth Novell. - - _Two yong Gentlemen, the one named_ Melisso, _borne in the City of_ - Laiazzo: _and the other_ Giosefo _of_ Antioch, _travailed together - unto_ Salomon, _the famous King of_ Great Britaine. _The one desiring - to learne what he should do, whereby to compasse and winne the love - of men. The other craved to be enstructed, by what meanes hee might - reclaime an headstrong and unruly wife. And what answeres the wise - King gave unto them both, before they departed away from him._ - - _The Morall._ - - Containing an excellent admonition, that such as covet to have the - love of other men, must first learne themselves, how to love: Also, by - what meanes such women as are curst and self willed, may be reduced to - civill obedience. - - - The Argument of the tenth Novell. - - John de Barolo, _at the instance and request of his Gossip_ Pietro - da Trefanti, _made an enchantment, to have his Wife become a Mule. - And when it came to the fastening on of the taile, Gossip_ Pietro _by - saying she should have no taile at all, spoyled the whole enchantment._ - - _The Morall._ - - In just reproofe of such foolish men, as will be governed by - over-light beleefe. - - * * * * * - - THE TENTH DAY, Governed under Pamphilus. - - _Whereon the severall Arguments doe Concerne such persons, as other - by way of Liberality, or in Magnificent manner, performed any worthy - action, for love, favor, friendship, or any other honourable occasion._ - - - The Argument of the First Novell. - - _A Florentine knight, named Signior_ Rogiero de Figiovanni, _became - a servant to_ Alphonso, _King of_ Spaine, _who (in his owne opinion) - seemed but sleightly to respect and reward him. In regard whereof, by - a notable experiment, the King gave him a manifest testimony, that it - was not through any defect in him, but onely occasioned by the Knights - ill fortune; most bountifully recompensing him afterward._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein may evidently be discerned, that Servants to Princes and great - Lords, are many times recompenced, rather by their good fortune, then - in any regard of their dutifull services. - - - The Argument of the second Novell. - - Ghinotto di Tacco; _tooke the Lord Abbot of_ Clugni _as his prisoner, - and cured him of a grievous disease, which he had in his stomacke, and - afterward set him at liberty. The same Lord Abbot, when hee returned - from the Court of Rome, reconciled_ Ghinotto _to Pope_ Boniface; _who - made him a Knight, and Lord Prior of a goodly Hospitall._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is declared that good men doe sometimes fall into bad - conditions, onely occasioned thereto by necessity: And what meanes are - to be used, for their reducing to goodnesse againe. - - - The Argument of the third Novell. - - Mithridanes _envying the life and liberality of_ Nathan, _and - travelling thither, with a setled resolution to kill him: chaunceth to - conferre with_ Nathan _unknowne. And being instructed by him, in what - manner he might best performe the bloody deede, according as hee gave - direction, hee meeteth with him in a small Thicket or Woode, where - knowing him to be the same man, that taught him how to take away his - life: Confounded with shame, hee acknowledgeth his horrible intention, - and becommeth his loyall friend._ - - _The Morall._ - - Shewing in an excellent and lively demonstration, that any especiall - honourable vertue, persevering and dwelling in a truly noble soule, - cannot be violenced or confounded, by the most politicke attemptes of - malice and envy. - - - The Argument of the fourth Novell. - - Signior Gentile de Carisendi, _being come from_ Modena, _tooke a - Gentlewoman, named Madam_ Catharina, _forth of a grave, wherein she - was buried for dead; which act he did, in regard of his former honest - affection to the said Gentlewoman. Madame_ Catharina _remaining - there afterward, and delivered of a goodly Sonne: was (by_ Signior - Gentile) _delivered to her owne Husband; named_ Signior Nicoluccio - Caccianimico, _and the yong infant with her._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is shewne, That true love hath alwayes bin, and so still is, - the occasion of many great and worthy courtesies. - - - The Argument of the Fift Novell. - - _Madame_ Dianora, _the Wife of Signior_ Gilberto, _being immodestly - affected by Signior_ Ansaldo, _to free herselfe from his tedious - importunity, she appointed him to performe (in her judgement) an - act of impossibility; namely, to give her a Garden, as plentifully - stored with fragrant Flowers in January, as in the flourishing moneth - of_ May. Ansaldo, _by meanes of a bond which he made to a Magitian, - performed her request. Signior_ Gilberto, _the Ladyes Husband, gave - consent, that his Wife should fulfill her promise made to_ Ansaldo. - _Who hearing the bountifull mind of her Husband; released her of - her promise: And the Magitian likewise discharged Signior_ Ansaldo, - _without taking any thing of him._ - - _The Morall._ - - Admonishing all Ladies and Gentlewomen, that are desirous to preserve - their chastity, free from all blemish and taxation: to make no promise - of yeelding to any, under a compact or covenant, how impossible soever - it may seeme to be. - - - The Argument of the Sixt Novell. - - _Victorious_ King Charles, _sirnamed the Aged, and first of that Name, - fell in love with a yong Maiden, named_ Genevera, _daughter to an - Ancient Knight, called Signior_ Neri degli Uberti. _And waxing ashamed - of his Amorous folly, caused both_ Genevera, _and her fayre Sister_ - Isotta, _to be joyned in marriage with two Noble Gentlemen; the one - named_ Signior Maffeo da Palizzi, _and the other,_ Signior Gulielmo - della Magna. - - _The Morall._ - - Sufficiently declaring, that how mighty soever the power of Love is: - yet a magnanimous and truly generous heart, it can by no meanes fully - conquer. - - - The Argument of the seaventh Novell. - - Lisana, _the Daughter of a Florentine Apothecary, named_ Bernardo - Puccino, _being at_ Palermo, _and seeing_ Piero, _King of_ Aragon - _run at the Tilt; fell so affectionately enamored of him, that she - languished in an extreame and long sickenesse. By her owne devise, - and means of a Song, sung in the hearing of the King: he vouchsafed - to visite her, and giving her a kisse, terming himselfe also to bee - her Knight for ever after, hee honourably bestowed her in marriage on - a young Gentleman, who was called_ Perdicano, _and gave him liberall - endowments with her._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is covertly given to understand, that howsoever a Prince may - make use of his absolute power and authority, towards Maides or Wives - that are his Subjects: yet he ought to deny and reject all things, as - shall make him forgetfull of himselfe, and his true honour. - - - The Argument of the Eight Novell. - - Sophronia, _thinking her selfe to be the maried wife of_ Gisippus, - _was (indeed) the wife of_ Titus Quintus Fulvius, _& departed thence - with him to Rome. Within a while after,_ Gisippus _also came thither - in very poore condition, and thinking that he was despised by_ Titus, - _grew weary of his life, and confessed that he had murdred a man, with - full** intent to die for the fact. But_ Titus _taking knowledge of him, - and desiring to save the life of_ Gisippus, _charged himself to have - done the bloody deed. Which the murderer himself (standing then among - the multitude) seeing, truly confessed the deed. By meanes whereof, - all three were delivered by the Emperor_ Octavius; _and_ Titus _gave - his Sister in mariage to_ Gisippus, _giving them also the most part of - his goods & inheritances._ - - _The Morall._ - - Declaring, that notwithstanding the frownes of Fortune, diversity of - occurrences, and contrary accidents happening: yet love and friendship - ought to be preciously preserved among men. - - - The Argument of the Ninth Novell. - - Saladine, _the great_ Soldan _of_ Babylon, _in the habite of a - Merchant, was honourably received and welcommed, into the house of - Signior_ Thorello d'Istria. _Who travelling to the Holy Land, prefixed - a certaine time to his Wife, for his returne backe to her againe, - wherein, if he failed, it was lawfull for her to take another Husband. - By clouding himselfe in the disguise of a Faulkner, the_ Soldan _tooke - notice of him, and did him many great honours. Afterward,_ Thorello - _falling sicke, by Magicall Art, he was conveighed in one night to_ - Pavia, _when his Wife was to be married on the morrow: where making - himselfe knowne to her, all was disappointed, and shee went home with - him to his owne house._ - - _The Morall._ - - Declaring what an honourable vertue Courtesie is, in them that truely - know how to use them. - - - The Argument of the tenth Novell. - - _The Marquesse of_ Saluzzo, _named_ Gualtiero, _being constrained - by the importunate solliciting of his Lords, and other inferiour - people, to joyne himselfe in marriage; tooke a woman according to his - owne liking, called_ Grizelda, _she being the daughter of a poore - Countriman, named_ Janiculo, _by whom he had two children, which he - pretended to be secretly murdered. Afterward, they being grown to - yeres of more stature, and making shew of taking in marriage another - wife, more worthy of his high degree and Calling: made a seeming - publique liking of his owne daughter, expulsing his wife_ Grizelda - _poorely from him. But finding her incomparable patience; more dearely - (then before) hee received her into favour againe, brought her home to - his owne Pallace, where (with her children) hee caused her and them to - be respectively honoured, in despight of all her adverse enemies._ - - _The Morall._ - - Set downe as an example or warning to all wealthie men, how to have - care of marrying themselves. And likewise** to poore and meane women, to - be patient in their fortunes, and obedient to their husbands. - - - - -THE SIXT DAY. - -_Governed under the Authority of Madam Eliza, and the Argument of the -Discourses or Novels there to be recounted, doe concerne such persons; -who by some witty words (when any have checkt or taunted them) have -revenged themselves, in a sudden, unexpected and discreet answere, -thereby preventing loss, danger, scorne and disgrace, retorting them on -the busi-headed Questioners._ - -The Induction. - - -The Moone having past the heaven, lost her bright splendour, by the -arising of a more powerfull light, and every part of our world began -to looke cleare: when the Queene (being risen) caused all the Company -to be called, walking forth afterward upon the pearled dewe (so farre -as was supposed convenient) in faire and familiar conference together, -according as severally they were disposed, & repetition of divers the -passed Novels, especially those which were most pleasing, and seemed so -by their present commendations. But the Sunne beeing somewhat higher -mounted, gave such a sensible warmth to the ayre, as caused their -returne backe to the Pallace, where the Tables were readily covered -against their comming, strewed with sweet hearbes and odoriferous -flowers, seating themselves at the Tables (before the heat grew more -violent) according as the Queene commanded. - -After dinner, they sung divers excellent Canzonnets, and then some went -to sleepe, others played at the Chesse, and some at the Tables: But -_Dioneus_ and Madam _Lauretta_, they sung the love-conflict betweene -_Troylus_ and _Cressida_. Now was the houre come, of repairing to -their former Consistory or meeting place, the Queene having thereto -generally summoned them, and seating themselves (as they were wont -to doe) about the faire fountaine. As the Queene was commanding to -begin the first Novell, an accident suddenly happened, which never had -befalne before: to wit, they heard a great noyse and tumult, among the -houshold servants in the Kitchin. Whereupon, the Queene caused the -Master of the Houshold to be called, demaunding of him, what noyse it -was, and what might be the occasion thereof? He made answere, that -_Lacisca_ and _Tindaro_ were at some words of discontentment, but what -was the occasion thereof, he knew not. Whereupon, the Queene commanded -that they should be sent for, (their anger and violent speeches still -continuing) and being come into her presence, she demaunded the reason -of their discord; and _Tindaro_ offering to make answere, _Lacisca_ -(being somewhat more ancient then he, and of a fiercer fiery spirit, -even as if her heart would have leapt out of her mouth) turned her -selfe to him, and with a scornefull frowning countenance, said. See how -this bold, unmannerly and beastly fellow, dare presume to speake in -this place before me: Stand by (saucy impudence) and give your better -leave to answere; then turning to the Queene, thus shee proceeded. - -Madam, this idle fellow would maintaine to me, that Signior -_Sicophanto_ marrying with _Madama della Grazza_, had the victory -of her virginity the very first night: and I avouched the contrary, -because shee had been a mother twise before, in very faire adventuring -of her fortune. And he dared to affirme beside, that yong Maides are -so simple, as to loose the flourishing Aprill of their time, in meere -feare of their parents, and great prejudice of their amourous friends. -Onely being abused by infinite promises, that this yeare and that -yeare they shall have husbands, when, both by the lawes of nature and -reason, they are not tyed to tarry so long, but rather ought to lay -hold upon opportunity, when it is fairely and friendly offered, so that -seldome they come maides to marriage. Beside, I have heard, and know -some married wives, that have played divers wanton prancks with their -husbands, yet carried all so demurely and smoothly; that they have -gone free from publique detection. All which this woodcocke will not -credit, thinking me to be so yong a Novice, as if I had been borne but -yesterday. - -While _Lacisca_ was delivering these speeches, the Ladies smiled on one -another, not knowing what to say in this case: And although the Queene -(five and or severall times) commaunded her to silence; yet such was -the earnestnes of her spleen, that she gave no attention, but held on -still even untill she had uttered all that she pleased. But after she -had concluded her complaint, the Queene (with a smiling countenance) -turned towards _Dioneus_ saying. This matter seemeth most properly to -belong to you; and therefore I dare repose such trust in you, that when -our Novels (for this day) shall be ended, you will conclude the case -with a definitive sentence. Whereto _Dioneus_ presently thus replyed. -Madam, the verdict is already given, without any further expectation: -and I affirme, that _Lacisca_ hath spoken very sensibly, because shee -is a woman of good apprehension, and _Tindaro_ is but a puny, in -practise and experience, to her. - -When _Lacisca_ heard this, she fell into a lowd Laughter, and turning -her selfe to _Tindaro_, sayde: The honour of the day is mine, and thine -owne quarrell hath overthrowne thee in the fielde. Thou that (as yet) -hath scarsely learned to sucke, wouldest thou presume to know so much -as I doe? Couldst thou imagine mee, to be such a trewant in losse of -my time, that I came hither as an ignorant creature? And had not the -Queene (looking verie frowningly on her) strictly enjoyned her to -silence; shee would have continued still in this triumphing humour. But -fearing further chastisement for disobedience, both shee and _Tindaro_ -were commanded thence, where was no other allowance all this day, but -onely silence and attention, to such as should be enjoyned speakers. - -And then the Queene, somewhat offended at the folly of the former -controversie, commanded Madame _Philomena_, that she should give -beginning to the dayes Novels: which (in dutifull manner) shee -undertooke to doe, and seating her selfe in formall fashion, with -modest and very gracious gesture, thus she began. - - - - -_A Knight requested Madam_ Oretta, _to ride behinde him on horse-backe, -and promised, to tell her an excellent Tale by the way. But the Lady -perceiving, that his discourse was idle, and much worse delivered: -entreated him to let her walke on foote againe._ - -The First Novell. - -_Reprehending the folly of such men, as undertake to report discourses, -which are beyond their wit and capacity, and gaine nothing but blame -for their labour._ - - -Gracious Ladies, like as in our faire, cleere, and serene seasons, the -Starres are bright ornaments to the heavens, and the flowry fields -(so long as the spring time lasteth) weare their goodliest Liveries, -the Trees likewise bragging in their best adornings: Even so at -friendly meetings, short, sweet, and sententious words, are the beauty -& ornament of any discourse, savouring of wit and sound judgement, -worthily deserving to be commended. And so much the rather, because -in few and witty words, aptly suting with the time and occasion, -more is delivered then was expected, or sooner answered, then rashly -apprehended: which, as they become men verie highly, yet do they shew -more singular in women. - -True it is, what the occasion may be, I know not, either by the -badnesse of our wittes, or the especiall enmitie betweene our -complexions and the celestiall bodies: there are scarsely any, or very -few Women to be found among us, that well knowes how to deliver a word, -when it should and ought to be spoken; or, if a question bee mooved, -understands to suite it with an apt answere, such as conveniently is -required, which is no meane disgrace to us women. But in regard, that -Madame _Pampinea_ hath already spoken sufficiently of this matter, I -meane not to presse it any further: but at this time it shall satisfie -mee, to let you know, how wittily a Ladie made due observation of -opportunitie, in answering of a Knight, whose talke seemed tedious and -offensive to her. - -No doubt there are some among you, who either do know, or (at the -least) have heard, that it is no long time since, when there dwelt -a Gentlewoman in our Citie, of excellent grace and good discourse, -with all other rich endowments of Nature remaining in her, as pitty -it were to conceale her name: and therefore let me tell ye, that shee -was called Madame _Oretta_, the Wife to Signior _Geri Spina_. She -being upon some occasion (as now we are) in the Countrey, and passing -from place to place (by way of neighbourly invitations) to visite her -loving Friends and Acquaintance, accompanied with divers Knights and -Gentlewomen, who on the day before had dined and supt at her house, -as now (belike) the selfe-same courtesie was intended to her: walking -along with her company upon the way; and the place for her welcome -beeing further off then she expected: a Knight chanced to overtake -this faire troop, who well knowing Madam _Oretta_, using a kinde and -courteous salutation, spake thus unto her. - -Madam, this foot travell may bee offensive to you, and were you so -well pleased as my selfe, I would ease your journey behinde mee on my -Gelding, even so farre as you shall command me: and beside, will shorten -your wearinesse with a Tale worth the hearing. Courteous Sir (replyed -the Lady) I embrace your kinde offer with such acceptation, that I pray -you to performe it; for therein you shall doe me an especiall favour. -The Knight, whose Sword (perhappes) was as unsuteable to his side, -as his wit out of fashion for any readie discourse, having the Lady -mounted behinde him: rode on with a gentle pace, and (according to his -promise) began to tell a Tale, which indeede (of it selfe) deserved -attention, because it was a knowne and commendable History, but yet -delivered so abruptly, with idle repetitions of some particulars three -or foure severall times, mistaking one thing for another, and wandering -erroneously from the essentiall subject, seeming neere an end, and then -beginning againe: that a poore Tale could not possibly be more mangled, -or worse tortured in telling, then this was; for the persons therein -concerned, were so abusively nicke-named, their actions and speeches so -monstrously misshapen,** that nothing could appeare to be more ugly. - -Madame _Oretta_, being a Lady of unequalled ingenuitie, admirable in -judgement, and most delicate in her speech, was afflicted in soule, -beyond all measure; overcome with many colde sweates, and passionate -heart-aking qualmes, to see a Foole thus in a Pinne-fold, and unable -to get out, albeit the doore stood wide open to him, whereby shee -became so sicke; that, converting her distaste to a kinde of pleasing -acceptation, merrily thus she spake. Beleeve me Sir, your horse trots -so hard, & travels so uneasily; that I entreate you to let me walke on -foot againe. - -The Knight, being (perchance) a better understander, then a Discourser; -perceived by this witty taunt, that his Bowle had run a contrarie bias, -and he as farre out of Tune, as he was from the Towne. So, lingering -the time, untill her company was neerer arrived: hee lefte her with -them, and rode on as his Wisedome could best direct him. - - - - -Cistio _a Baker, by a wittie answer which he gave unto_ Messer Geri -Spina, _caused him to acknowledge a very indiscreete motion, which he -had made to the said_ Cistio. - -The Second Novell. - -_Approving, that a request ought to be civill, before it should be -granted to any one whatsoever._ - - -The words of Madame _Oretta_, were much commended by the men and -women; and the discourse being ended, the Queene gave command to Madam -_Pampinea_, that shee should follow next in order, which made her to -begin in this manner. - -Worthy Ladies, it exceedeth the power of my capacitie, to censure in -the case whereof I am to speake, by saying, who sinned most, either -Nature, in seating a Noble soule in a vile body, or Fortune, in -bestowing on a body (beautified with a noble soule) a base or wretched -condition of life. As we may observe by _Cistio_, a Citizen of our -owne, and many more beside; for, this _Cistio_ beeing endued with a -singular good spirit, Fortune hath made him no better then a Baker. -And beleeve me Ladies, I could (in this case) lay as much blame on -Nature, as on Fortune; if I did not know Nature to be most absolutely -wise, & that Fortune hath a thousand eyes, albeit fooles have figured -her to bee blinde. But, upon more mature and deliberate consideration, -I finde, that they both (being truly wise and judicious) have dealt -justly, in imitation of our best advised mortals, who being uncertaine -of such inconveniences, as may happen unto them, do bury (for their own -benefit) the very best and choisest things of esteeme, in the most vile -and abject places of their houses, as being subject to least suspition, -and where they may be sure to have them at all times, for supply of any -necessitie whatsoever, because so base a conveyance hath better kept -them, then the very best chamber in the house could have done. Even -so these two great commanders of the world, do many times hide their -most precious Jewels of worth, under the clouds of Arts or professions -of worst estimation, to the end, that fetching them thence when neede -requires, their splendour may appeare to be the more glorious. Nor -was any such matter noted in our homely Baker _Cistio_, by the best -observation of _Messer Geri Spina_, who was spoken of in the late -repeated Novell, as being the husband to Madame _Oretta_; whereby this -accident came to my remembrance, and which (in a short Tale) I will -relate unto you. - -Let me then tell ye, that Pope _Boniface_ (with whom the fore-named -_Messer Geri Spina_ was in great regard) having sent divers Gentlemen -of his Court to _Florence_ as Ambassadors, about very serious and -important businesse: they were lodged in the house of _Messer Geri -Spina_, and he employed (with them) in the saide Popes negotiation. -It chanced, that as being the most convenient way for passage, every -morning they walked on foot by the Church of Saint _Marie d'Ughi_, -where _Cistio_ the Baker dwelt, and exercised the trade belonging to -him. Now although Fortune had humbled him to so meane a condition, -yet shee added a blessing of wealth to that contemptible quality, and -(as smiling on him continually) no disasters at any time befell him, -but still he flourished in riches, lived like a jolly Citizen, with -all things fitting for honest entertainment about him, and plenty of -the best Wines (both White and Claret) as _Florence_, or any part -thereabout yeelded. - -Our frolicke Baker perceiving, that _Messer Geri Spina_ and the other -Ambassadors, used every morning to passe by his doore, and afterward -to returne backe the same way: seeing the season to be somewhat hot & -soultry, he tooke it as an action of kindnesse and courtesie, to make -them an offer of tasting his white wine. But having respect to his own -meane degree, and the condition of _Messer Geri_; hee thought it farre -unfitting for him, to be so forward in such presumption; but rather -entred into consideration of some such meanes, whereby _Messer Geri_ -might bee the inviter of himselfe to taste his Wine. And having put on -him a trusse or thin doublet, of very white and fine Linnen cloath, as -also breeches, and an apron of the same, and a white cap upon his head, -so that he seemed rather to be a Miller, then a Baker: at such times as -_Messer Geri_ and the Ambassadors should daily passe by, hee set before -his doore a new Bucket of faire water, and another small vessell of -_Bologna_ earth (as new and sightly as the other) full of his best and -choisest white Wine, with two small Glasses, looking like silver, they -were so cleare. Downe he sate, with all this provision before him, and -emptying his stomacke twice or thrice, of some clotted flegmes which -seemed to offend it: even as the Gentlemen were passing by, he dranke -one or two rouses of his Wine so heartily, and with such a pleasing -appetite, as might have moved a longing (almost) in a dead man. - -_Messer Geri_ well noting his behaviour, and observing the verie same -course in him two mornings together; on the third day (as he was -drinking) he said unto him. Well done _Cistio_, what, is it good, or -no? _Cistio_ starting up, forthwith replyed: Yes Sir, the wine is good -indeed, but how can I make you to beleeve me, except you taste of it? -_Messer Geri_, eyther in regard of the times quality, or by reason of -his paines taken, perhaps more then ordinary, or else, because hee -saw _Cistio_ had drunke so sprightly, was very desirous to taste of -the Wine, and turning unto the Ambassadors, in merriment he saide. My -Lords, me thinks it were not much amisse, if we tooke a taste of this -honest mans Wine, perhaps it is so good, that we shall not neede to -repent our labour. - -Heereupon, he went with them to _Cistio_, who had caused an handsome -seate to be fetched forth of his house, whereon he requested them to -sit downe, and having commanded his men to wash cleane the Glasses, -he saide. Fellowes, now get you gone, and leave me to the performance -of this service; for I am no worse a skinker, then a Baker, and tarry -you never so long, you shall not drinke a drop. Having thus spoken, -himselfe washed foure or five small glasses, faire and new, and causing -a Viall of his best wine to be brought him: hee diligently filled it -out to _Messer Geri_ and the Ambassadours, to whom it seemed the very -best Wine, that they had drunke of in a long while before. And having -given _Cistio_ most hearty thankes for his kindnesse, and the Wine his -due commendation: many dayes afterwardes (so long as they continued -there) they found the like courteous entertainment, and with the good -liking of honest _Cistio_. - -But when the affayres were fully concluded, for which they were thus -sent to _Florence_, and their parting preparation in due readinesse: -_Messer Geri_ made a very sumptuous Feast for them, inviting thereto -the most part of the honourablest Citizens, and _Cistio_ to be one -amongst them; who (by no meanes) would bee seene in an assembly of such -State and pompe, albeit he was thereto (by the saide _Messer Geri_) -most earnestly entreated. - -In regard of which deniall, _Messer Geri_ commaunded one of his -servants, to take a small Bottle, and request _Cistio_ to fill it with -his good Wine; then afterward, to serve it in such sparing manner to -the Table, that each Gentleman might be allowed halfe a glasse-full -at their down-sitting. The Serving-man, who had heard great report -of the Wine, and was halfe offended, because he could never taste -thereof: tooke a great Flaggon Bottle, containing foure or five -Gallons at the least, and comming there-with unto _Cistio_, saide -unto him. _Cistio_, because my Master cannot have your companie among -his friends, he prayes you to fill this Bottle with your best Wine. -_Cistio_ looking uppon the huge Flaggon, replied thus. Honest Fellow, -_Messer Geri_ never sent thee with such a Message to me: which although -the Servingman very stoutly maintained, yet getting no other answer, he -returned backe therewith to his Master. - -_Messer Geri_ returned the Servant backe againe unto _Cistio_, saying: -Goe, and assure _Cistio_, that I sent thee to him, and if hee make -thee any more such answeres, then demaund of him, to what place else I -should send thee? Being come againe to _Cistio_, hee avouched that his -Maister had sent him, but _Cistio_ affirming, that hee did not: the -Servant asked, to what place else hee should send him? Marrie (quoth -_Cistio_) unto the River of _Arno_, which runneth by _Florence_, there -thou mayest be sure to fill thy Flaggon. When the Servant had reported -this answer to _Messer Geri_, the eyes of his understanding beganne -to open, and calling to see what Bottle hee had carried with him: -no sooner looked he on the huge Flaggon, but severely reproving the -sawcinesse of his Servant, hee sayde. Now trust mee, _Cistio_ told thee -nothing but trueth, for neither did I send thee with any such dishonest -message, nor had the reason to yeeld or grant it. - -Then he sent him with a bottle of more reasonable competencie, which so -soone as _Cistio_ saw: Yea mary my friend, quoth he, now I am sure that -thy Master sent thee to me, and he shall have his desire with all my -hart. So, commaunding the Bottle to be filled, he sent it away by the -Servant, and presently following after him, when he came unto _Messer -Geri_, he spake unto him after this manner. Sir, I would not have you to -imagine, that the huge flaggon (which first came) did any jotte dismay -mee; but rather I conceyved, that the small Viall whereof you tasted -every morning, yet filled many mannerly Glasses together, was fallen -quite out of your remembrance; in plainer tearmes, it beeing no Wine -for Groomes or Peazants, as your selfe affirmed yesterday. And because -I meane to bee a Skinker no longer, by keeping Wine to please any other -pallate but mine owne: I have sent you halfe my store, and heereafter -thinke of mee as you shall please. _Messer Geri_ tooke both his guifte -and speeches in most thankefull manner, accepting him alwayes after, -as his intimate Friend, because he had so graced him before the -Ambassadours. - - - - -Madame Nonna de Pulci, _by a sodaine answere, did put to silence a -Byshop of_ Florence, _and the Lord Marshall: having moved a question to -the said Lady, which seemed to come short of honesty._ - -The Third Novell. - -_Wherein is declared, that mockers do sometimes meete with their -matches in mockery, and to their owne shame._ - - -When Madame _Pampinea_ had ended her Discourse, and (by the whole -company) the answere and bounty of _Cistio_, had past with deserved -commendation: it pleased the Queene, that Madame _Lauretta_ should next -succeed: whereupon verie chearefully thus she beganne. - -Faire assembly, Madame _Pampinea_ (not long time since) gave beginning, -and Madam _Philomena_ hath also seconded the same argument, concerning -the slender vertue remaining in our sexe, and likewise the beautie of -wittie words, delivered on apt occasion, and in convenient meetings. -Now, because it is needlesse to proceede any further, then what hath -beene already spoken: let mee onely tell you (over and beside) and -commit it to memorie, that the nature of meetings and speeches are -such, as they ought to nippe or touch the hearer, like unto the Sheepes -nibling on the tender grasse, and not as the sullen Dogge byteth. For, -if their biting be answereable to the Dogges, they deserve not to be -termed witty jests or quips, but foule and offensive language: as -plainly appeareth by the words of Madame _Oretta_, and the merry, yet -sensible answer of _Cistio_. - -True it is, that if it be spoken by way of answer, and the answerer -biteth doggedly, because himselfe was bitten in the same manner before: -he is the lesse to bee blamed, because hee maketh payment but with -coine of the same stampe. In which respect, an especiall care is to bee -had, how, when, with whom, and where we jest or gibe, whereof very many -proove too unmindfull, as appeared (not long since) by a Prelate of -ours, who met with a byting, no lesse sharpe and bitter, then had first -come from himselfe before, as verie briefely I intend to tell you how. - -_Messer Antonio d'Orso_, being Byshoppe of _Florence_, a vertuous, -wise, and reverend Prelate; it fortuned that a Gentleman of -_Catalogna_, named _Messer Diego de la Ratta_, and Lord Marshall to -King _Robert_ of _Naples_, came thither to visite him. Hee being a man -of very comely personage, and a great observer of the choysest beauties -in Court: among all the other _Florentine_ Dames, one proved to bee -most pleasing in his eye, who was a verie faire Woman indeede, and -Neece to the Brother of the saide _Messer Antonio_. - -The Husband of this Gentlewoman (albeit descended of a worthie Family) -was, neverthelesse, immeasurably covetous, and a verie vile harsh -natured man. Which the Lord Marshall understanding, made such a madde -composition with him, as to give him five hundred Ducates of Gold, on -condition, that hee would let him lye one night with his wife, not -thinking him so base minded as to give consent. Which in a greedy -avaritious humour he did, and the bargaine being absolutely agreed -on; the Lord Marshall prepared to fit him with a payment, such as it -should be. He caused so many peeces of silver to be cunningly guilded, -as then went for currant mony in _Florence_, and called _Popolines_, & -after he had lyen with the Lady (contrary to her will and knowledge, -her husband had so closely carried the businesse) the money was duely -paid to the cornuted Coxcombe. Afterwards, this impudent shame chanced -to be generally knowne, nothing remaining to the wilfull Wittoll, but -losse of his expected gaine, and scorne in every place where he went. -The Bishop likewise (beeing a discreete and sober man) would seeme to -take no knowledge thereof; but bare out all scoffes with a well setled -countenance. - -Within a short while after, the Bishop and the Lord Marshall (alwaies -conversing together) it came to passe, that upon Saint _Johns_ day, -they riding thorow the City, side by side, and viewing the brave -beauties, which of them might best deserve to win the prize; the Byshop -espied a yong married Lady (which our late greevous pestilence bereaved -us of) she being named Madame _Nonna de Pulci_, and Cousine to _Messer -Alexio Rinucci_, a Gentleman well knowne unto us all. A very goodly -beautifull yong woman she was, of delicate language, and singular -spirite, dwelling close by S. _Peters_ gate. This Lady did the Bishop -shew to the Marshall, and when they were come to her, laying his hand -uppon her shoulder, he said. Madam _Nonna_, What thinke you of this -Gallant? Dare you adventure another wager with him? - -Such was the apprehension of this witty Lady, that these words seemed -to taxe her honour, or else to contaminate the hearers understanding, -whereof there were great plenty about her, whose judgement might be as -vile, as the speeches were scandalous. Wherefore, never seeking for any -further purgation of her cleare conscience, but onely to retort taunt -for taunt, presently thus she replied. My Lord, if I should make such a -vile adventure, I would looke to bee payde with better money. - -These words being heard both by the Bishop and Marshall, they felt -themselves touched to the quicke, the one, as the Factor or Broker, for -so dishonest a businesse, to the Brother of the Bishop; and the other, -as receiving (in his owne person) the shame belonging to his Brother. -So, not so much as looking each on other, or speaking one word together -all the rest of that day, they rode away with blushing cheekes. Whereby -we may collect, that the yong Lady, being so injuriously provoked, did -no more then well became her, to bite their basenesse neerely, that so -abused her openly. - - - - -Chichibio, _the Cooke to_ Messer Currado Gianfiliazzi, _by a sodaine -pleasant answer which he made to his Master; converted his anger into -laughter, and thereby escaped the punishment, that_ Messer _meant to -impose on him._ - -The Fourth Novell. - -_Whereby plainly appeareth, that a sodaine witty and merry answer, doth -oftentimes appease the furious choller of an angry man._ - - -Madam _Lauretta_ sitting silent, and the answer of Lady _Nonna_ having -past with generall applause: the Queene commanded Madame _Neiphila_ -to follow next in order; who instantly thus began. Although a ready -wit (faire Ladies) doth many times affoord worthy and commendable -speeches, according to the accidents happening to the speaker: yet -notwithstanding, Fortune (being a ready helper divers wayes to the -timorous) doth often tippe the tongue with such a present reply, as the -partie to speake, had not so much leysure as to thinke on, nor yet to -invent; as I purpose to let you perceive, by a prety short Novell. - -_Messer Currado Gianfiliazzi_ (as most of you have both seene and -knowen) living alwayes in our Citie, in the estate of a Noble Citizen, -beeing a man bountifull, magnificent, and within the degree of -Knighthoode: continually kept both Hawkes and Hounds, taking no meane -delight in such pleasures as they yeelded, neglecting (for them) farre -more serious imployments, wherewith our present subject presumeth not -to meddle. Upon a day, having kilde with his Faulcon a Crane, neere to -a Village called _Peretola_, and finding her to be both young and fat, -he sent it to his Cooke, a _Venetian_ borne, and named _Chichibio_, -with command to have it prepared for his supper. _Chichibio_, who -resembled no other, then (as he was indeede) a plaine, simple, honest -merry fellow, having drest the Crane as it ought to bee, put it on the -spit, and laide it to the fire. - -When it was well neere fully roasted, and gave forth a very delicate -pleasing savour; it fortuned that a young Woman dwelling not far off, -named _Brunetta_, and of whom _Chichibio_ was somewhat enamored, -entred into the Kitchin, and feeling the excellent smell of the Crane, -to please her beyond all savours, that ever she had felt before: she -entreated _Chichibio_ verie earnestly, that hee would bestow a legge -thereof on her. Whereto _Chichibio_ (like a pleasant companion, and -evermore delighting in singing) sung her this answer. - - _My_ Brunetta, _faire and feat a, - Why should you say so? - The meate of my Master, - Allowes you for no Taster, - Go from the Kitchin go._ - -Many other speeches past betweene them in a short while, but in the -end, _Chichibio_, because hee would not have his Mistresse _Brunetta_ -angrie with him; cut away one of the Cranes legges from the spit, and -gave it to her to eate. Afterward, when the Fowle was served up to -the Table before _Messer Currado_, who had invited certain strangers -his friends to sup with him, wondering not a little, he called for -_Chichibio_ his Cook; demanding what was become of the Cranes other -legge? Whereto the _Venetian_ (being a lyar by Nature) sodainely -answered: Sir, Cranes have no more but one legge each Bird. _Messer -Currado_, growing verie angry, replyed. Wilt thou tell me, that a -Crane hath no more but one legge? Did I never see a Crane before this? -_Chichibio_ persisting resolutely in his deniall, saide. Beleeve me -Sir, I have told you nothing but the truth, and when you please, I will -make good my wordes, by such Fowles as are living. - -Messer _Currado_, in kinde love to the strangers that hee had invited -to supper, gave over any further contestation; onely he said. Seeing -thou assurest me, to let me see thy affirmation for truth, by other -of the same Fowles living (a thing which as yet I never saw, or heard -of) I am content to make proofe thereof to morrow morning, till then -I shall rest satisfied: but, upon my word, if I finde it otherwise, -expect such a sound payment, as thy knavery justly deserveth, to make -thee remember it all thy life time. The contention ceassing for the -night season, Messer _Currado_, who though he had slept well, remained -still discontented in his minde: arose in the morning by breake of -day, and puffing & blowing angerly, called for his horses, commanding -_Chichibio_ to mount on one of them; so riding on towards the River, -where (earely every morning) he had seene plenty of Cranes, he sayde to -his man; We shall see anon Sirra, whether thou or I lyed yesternight. - -_Chichibio_ perceiving, that his Masters anger was not (as yet) -asswaged, and now it stood him upon, to make good his lye; not knowing -how he should do it, rode after his Master, fearfully trembling all -the way. Gladly he would have made an escape, but hee could not by any -possible meanes, and on every side he looked about him, now before, -and after behinde, to espy any Cranes standing on both their legges, -which would have bin an ominous sight to him. But being come neere to -the River, he chanced to see (before any of the rest) upon the banke -thereof, about a dozen Cranes in number, each of them standing but upon -one legge, as they use to do when they are sleeping. Whereupon, shewing -them quickly to Messer _Currado_, he said. Now Sir your selfe may see, -whether I told you true yesternight, or no: I am sure a Crane hath but -one thigh, and one leg, as all here present are apparant witnesses, and -I have bin as good as my promise. - -Messer _Currado_ looking on the Cranes, and well understanding the -knavery of his man, replyed: Stay but a little while sirra, & I will -shew thee, that a Crane hath two thighes, and two legges. Then riding -somwhat neerer to them, he cryed out aloud, Shough, shough, which -caused them to set downe their other legs, and all fled away, after -they had made a few paces against the winde for their mounting. So -going unto _Chichibio_, he said: How now you lying Knave, hath a Crane -two legs, or no? _Chichibio_ being well-neere at his wits end, not -knowing now what answer hee should make; but even as it came sodainly -into his minde, said: Sir, I perceive you are in the right, and if you -would have done as much yesternight, and had cryed Shough, as here you -did: questionlesse, the Crane would then have set down the other legge, -as these heere did: but if (as they) she had fled away too, by that -meanes you might have lost your Supper. - -This sodaine and unexpected witty answere, comming from such a -logger-headed Lout, and so seasonably for his owne safety: was so -pleasing to _Messer Currado_, that he fell into a hearty laughter, and -forgetting all anger, saide. _Chichibio_, thou hast quit thy selfe -well, and to my contentment: albeit I advise thee, to teach mee no -more such trickes heereafter. Thus _Chichibio_, by his sodaine and -merry answer, escaped a sound beating, which (otherwise) his master had -inflicted on him. - - - - -Messer Forese da Rabatte, _and Maister_ Giotto, _a Painter by his -profession, comming together from_ Mugello, _scornfully reprehended one -another for their deformity of body._ - -The Fift Novell. - -_Whereby may bee observed, that such as will speake contemptibly of -others, ought (first of all) to looke respectively on their owne -imperfections._ - - -So soone as Madame _Neiphila_ sate silent (the Ladies having greatly -commended the pleasant answer of _Chichibio_) _Pamphilus_, by command -from the Queene, spake in this manner. Woorthy Ladies, it commeth to -passe oftentimes, that like as Fortune is observed divers wayes, to -hide under vile and contemptible Arts, the most great and unvalewable -treasures of vertue (as, not long since, was well discoursed unto us -by Madam _Pampinea_:) so in like manner hath appeared; that Nature -hath infused very singular spirits into most misshapen and deformed -bodies of men. As hath beene noted in two of our owne Citizens, of -whom I purpose to speake in fewe words. The one of them was named -_Messer Forese de Rabatte_, a man of little and low person, but yet -deformed in body, with a flat face, like a Terrier or Beagle, as if no -comparison (almost) could bee made more ugly. But notwithstanding all -this deformity, he was so singularly experienced in the Lawes, that all -men held him beyond any equall, or rather reputed him as a Treasury of -civill knowledge. - -The other man, being named _Giotto_, had a spirit of so great -excellency, as there was not any particular thing in Nature, the -Mother and Worke-mistresse of all, by continuall motion of the -heavens; but hee by his pen and pensell could perfectly portrait; -shaping them all so truly alike and resemblable, that they were taken -for the reall matters indeede; and, whether they were present or no, -there was hardly any possibility of their distinguishing. So that -many times it happened, that by the variable devises he made, the -visible sence of men became deceived, in crediting those things to be -naturall, which were but meerly painted. By which meanes, hee reduced -that singular Art to light, which long time before had lyen buried, -under the grosse error of some; who, in the mysterie of painting, -delighted more to content the ignorant, then to please the judicious -understanding of the wise, he justly deserving thereby, to be tearmed -one of the _Florentines_ most glorious lights. And so much the rather, -because he performed all his actions, in the true and lowly spirit of -humility: for while he lived, and was a Master in his Art, above all -other Painters: yet he refused any such title, which shined the more -majestically in him, as appeared by such, who knew much lesse then he, -or his Schollers either: yet his knowledge was extreamly coveted among -them. - -Now, notwithstanding all this admirable excellency in him: he was not -(thereby) a jot the handsommer man (either in person or countenance) -then was our fore-named Lawyer _Messer Forese_, and therefore my -Novell concerneth them both. Understand then, (faire Assemblie) that -the possessions and inheritances of _Messer Forese_ and _Giotto_, lay -in _Mugello_; wherefore, when Holy-dayes were celebrated by Order -of Court, and in the Sommer time, upon the admittance of so apt a -vacation; _Forese_ rode thither upon a very unsightly Jade, such as a -man can can seldome meet with worse. The like did _Giotto_ the Painter, -as ill fitted every way as the other; and having dispatched their -busines there, they both returned backe towards _Florence_, neither of -them being able to boast, which was the best mounted. - -Riding on a faire and softly pace, because their Horses could goe -no faster: and they being well entred into yeeres, it fortuned (as -oftentimes the like befalleth in Sommer) that a sodaine showre of raine -over-tooke them; for avoyding whereof, they made all possible haste -to a poore Countrey-mans Cottage, familiarly knowne to them both. -Having continued there an indifferent while, and the raine unlikely to -cease: to prevent all further protraction of time, and to arrive at -_Florence_ in due season: they borrowed two old cloakes of the poore -man, of over-worn and ragged Country gray, as also two hoodes of the -like Complexion, (because the poore man had no better) which did more -mishape them, then their owne ugly deformity, and made them notoriously -flouted and scorned, by all that met or overtooke them. - -After they had ridden some distance of ground, much moyled and bemyred -with their shuffling Jades, flinging the dirt every way about them, -that well they might be termed two filthy companions: the raine gave -over, and the evening looking somwhat cleare, they began to confer -familiarly together. _Messer Forese_, riding a lofty _French_ trot, -everie step being ready to hoise him out of his saddle, hearing -_Giottos_ discreete answers to every ydle question he made (for indeede -he was a very elegant speaker) began to peruse and surveigh him, even -from the foote to the head, as we use to say. And perceiving him to -be so greatly deformed, as no man could be worse, in his opinion: -without any consideration of his owne misshaping as bad, or rather more -unsightly then hee; in a scoffing laughing humour, hee saide. _Giotto_, -doest thou imagine, that a stranger, who had never seene thee before, -and should now happen into our companie, would beleeve thee to bee the -best Painter in the world, as indeede thou art? Presently _Giotto_ -(without any further meditation) returned him this answere. Signior -_Forese_, I think he might then beleeve it, when (beholding you) hee -could imagine that you had learned your A. B. C. Which when _Forese_ -heard, he knew his owne error, and saw his payment returned in such -Coine, as he sold his Wares for. - - - - -_A yong and ingenious Scholler, being unkindly reviled and smitten -by his ignorant Father, and through the procurement of an unlearned -Vicare: afterward attained to be doubly revenged on him._ - -The Sixth Novell. - -_Serving as an advertisement to unlearned Parents, not to bee -over-rash, in censuring on Schollers perfections, through any badde or -unbeseeming perswasions._ - - -The Ladies smiled very heartily, at the ready answer of _Giotto_; -untill the Queene charged Madam _Fiammetta_, that shee should next -succeed in order: whereupon, thus she began. The verie greatest -infelicity that can happen to a man, and most insupportable of all -other, is Ignorance; a word (I say) which hath bin so generall, as under -it is comprehended all imperfections whatsoever. Yet notwithstanding, -whosoever can cull (graine by graine) the defects incident to humane -race; will and must confesse, that wee are not all borne to knowledge: -but onely such, whom the heavens illuminating by their bright radiance -(wherein consisteth the sourse and well-spring of all science) by -little & little, do bestow the influence of their bounty, on such -and so manie as they please, who are to expresse themselves the more -thankfull for such a blessing. And although this grace doth lessen -the misfortune of many, which were over-mighty to bee in all; yet -some there are, who by sawcie presuming on themselves, doe bewray -their ignorance by theyr owne speeches; setting such behaviour on each -matter, and soothing every thing with such gravity, even as if they -would make comparison: or (to speake more properly) durst encounter in -the Listes with great _Salomon_ or _Socrates_. But let us leave them, -and come to the matter of our purposed Novell. - -In a certaine Village of _Piccardie_, there lived a Priest or Vicar, -who beeing meerely an ignorant blocke, had yet such a peremptorie -presuming spirite: as, though it was sufficiently discerned, yet hee -beguiled many thereby, untill at last he deceyved himselfe, and with -due chastisement to his folly. - -A plaine Husbandman dwelling in the same Village, possessed of much -Land and Living, but verie grosse and dull in understanding; by the -entreaty of divers his Friends and Well-willers, some-thing more -intelligable then himselfe: became incited, or rather provoked, to send -a Sonne of his to the University of _Paris_, to study there as was -fitting for a Scholler. To the end (quoth they) that having but this -Son onely, and Fortunes blessings abounding in store for him: hee might -like wise have the riches of the minde, which are those true treasures -indeede, that _Aristippus_ giveth us advice to be furnished withall. - -His Friends perswasions having prevailed, and hee continued at _Paris_ -for the space of three yeares: what with the documents he had attayned -to, before his going thither, and by meanes of a happie memory in the -time of his being there, wherewith no young man was more singularly -endued (in so short a while) he attained and performed the greater part -of his Studies. - -Now, as oftentimes it commeth to passe, the love of a Father -(surmounting all other affections in man) made the olde Farmer desirous -to see his Sonne: which caused his sending for him with all convenient -speede, and obedience urged his as forward willingnesse thereto. The -good olde man, not a little joyfull to see him in so good condition -and health, and encreased so much in stature since his parting thence: -familiarly told him, that he earnestly desired to know, if his minde -and body had attained to a competent and equall growth, which within -three or foure dayes he would put in practise. - -No other helpe had he silly simple man, but Master Vicar must bee -the questioner and poser of his son: wherein the Priest was very -unwilling to meddle, for feare of discovering his owne ignorance, which -passed under better opinion then he deserved. But the Farmer beeing -importunate, and the Vicar many wayes beholding to him, durst not -returne deniall, but undertooke it very formally, as if he had bene an -able man indeede. - -But see how Fooles are borne to be fortunate, and where they least -hope, there they find the best successe; the simplicitie of the Father, -must be the meanes for abusing his Schollerly Son, and a skreene to -stand betweene the Priest and his ignorance. Earnest is the olde man to -know, what and how farre his Sonne had profited at Schoole, and by what -note he might best take understanding of his answeres: which jumping -fit with the Vicars vanity, and a warrantable cloake to cover his -knavery; he appoints him but one word onely, namely _Nescio_, wherewith -if he answered to any of his demands, it was an evident token, that -hee understood nothing. As thus they were walking and conferring in -the Church, the Farmer very carefull to remember the word _Nescio_: it -came to passe upon a sodaine, that the young man entred into them, to -the great contentment of his Father, who prayed Master Vicar, to make -approbation of his Sonne, whether he were learned, or no, and how hee -had benefited at the University? - -After the time of the daies salutations had past betweene them, the -Vicar being subtle and crafty, as they walked along by one of the -tombs in the Church; pointing with his finger to the Tombe, the Priest -uttered these words to the Scholler. - - _Quis hic est sepultus?_ - -The yong Scholler (by reason it was erected since his departure, and -finding no inscription whereby to informe him) answered, as well hee -might, _Nescio_. Immediately the Father, keeping the word perfectly in -his memorie, grewe verie angerly passionate; and, desiring to heare no -more demaunds: gave him three or foure boxes on the eares; with many -harsh and injurious speeches, tearming him an Asse and Villaine, and -that he had not learned any thing. His Sonne was pacient, and returned -no answer, but plainly perceived, that this was a tricke intended -against him, by the malicious treachery of the Priest, on whom (in -time) he might be revenged. - -Within a short while after, the Suffragane of those parts (under whom -the Priest was but a Deputy, holding the benefice of him, with no great -charge to his conscience) being abroad in his visitation, sent word to -the Vicar, that he intended to preach there on the next Sunday, and hee -to prepare in a readinesse, _Bonum & Commodum_, because hee would have -nothing else to his dinner. Heereat Master Vicar was greatly amazed, -because he had never heard such words before, neither could hee finde -them in all his _Breviarie_. Hereupon, he went to the yong scholler, -whom he had so lately before abused, and crying him mercy, with many -impudent and shallow excuses, desired him to reveale the meaning of -those words, and what he should understand by _Bonum & Commodum_. - -The Scholler (with a sober and modest countenance) made answere; That -he had bin over-much abused, which (neverthelesse) he tooke not so -impaciently, but hee had already both forgot and forgiven it, with -promise of comfort in this his extraordinary distraction, and greefe of -minde. When he had perused the Suffraganes Letter, well observing the -blushlesse ignorance of the Priest: seeming (by outward appearance) to -take it strangely, he cryed out alowd, saying; In the name of Vertue, -what may be this mans meaning? How? (quoth the Priest) What manner -of demand do you make? Alas, replyed the Scholler, you have but one -poore Asse, which I know you love deerely, and yet you must stew his -genitories very daintily, for your Patron will have no other meat to -his dinner. The genitories of mine Asse, answered the Priest? Passion -of me, who then shall carrie my Corne to the Mill? There is no remedie, -sayde the Scholler, for he hath so set it downe for an absolute -resolution. - -After that the Priest had considered thereon a while by himselfe, -remembring the yearely revennewes, which clearely hee put up into -his purse, to be ten times of farre greater worth then his Asse: he -concluded to have him gelded, what danger soever should ensue thereon, -preparing them in readinesse against his comming. So soone as the -Suffragan was there arrived, heavily hee complained to him for his -Asse: which kinde of Language he not understanding, knew not what -he meant, nor how he should answer. But beeing (by the Scholler) -acquainted with the whole History, he laughed heartily at the Priests -ignorant folly, wishing that all such bold Bayards (from time to time) -might be so served. Likewise, that all ignorant Priests, Vicars, and -other Grashoppers of Townes or Villages, who sometimes have onely seene -_Partes orationis quod sunt_, not to stand over-much on their owne -sufficiency, grounded soly upon their Grammar; but to beware whom they -jest withall, without medling with Schollers, who take not injuries as -dullards doe, least they prove infamous by their disputations. - - - - -Madam Phillippa, _being accused by her Husband_ Rinaldo de Pugliese, -_because he tooke her in Adulterie, with a yong Gentleman named_ -Lazarino de Guazzagliotori: _caused her to bee cited before the Judge. -From whom she delivered her selfe, by a sodaine, witty and pleasant -answer, and moderated a severe strict Statute, formerly made against -women._ - -The Seventh Novell. - -_Wherein is declared, of what worth it is to confesse a trueth, with a -facetious and witty excuse._ - - -After that Madame _Fiammetta_ had given over speaking, and all the -Auditory had sufficiently applauded the Schollers honest revenge, the -Queene enjoyned _Philostratus_, to proceede on next with his Novell, -which caused him to begin thus. Beleeve me Ladies, it is an excellent -& most commendable thing, to speak well, and to all purposes: but I -hold it a matter of much greater worth, to know how to do it, and -when necessity doth most require it. Which a Gentlewoman (of whom I -am now to speake) was so well enstructed in, as not onely it yeelded -the hearers mirthfull contentment, but likewise delivered her from the -danger of death, as (in few words) you shall heare related. - -In the Citie of _Prato_, there was an Edict or Statute, no lesse -blameworthy (to speake uprightly) then most severe and cruell, which -(without making any distinction) gave strict command; That everie Woman -should be burned with fire, whose husband found her in the acte of -Adultery, with any secret or familiar friend, as one deserving to bee -thus abandoned, like such as prostituted their bodies to publike sale -or hire. During the continuance of this sharpe Edict, it fortuned that -a Gentlewoman, who was named _Phillippa_, was found in her Chamber -one night, in the armes of a yong Gentleman of the same City, named -_Lazarino de Guazzagliotori_, and by her owne husband, called _Rinaldo -de Pugliese_, shee loving the young Gallant, as her owne life, because -hee was most compleate in all perfections, and every way as deerely -addicted to her. - -This sight was so irkesome to _Rinaldo_, that, being overcom with -extreame rage, hee could hardly containe from running on them, with a -violent intent to kill them both: but feare of his owne life caused his -forbearance, meaning to be revenged by some better way. Such was the -heate of his spleene and fury, as, setting aside all respect of his -owne shame: he would needs prosecute the rigour of the deadly Edict, -which he held lawfull for him to do, although it extended to the death -of his Wife. Heereupon, having witnesses sufficient, to approove the -guiltinesse of her offence: a day being appointed (without desiring any -other counsell) he went in person to accuse her, and required justice -against her. - -The Gentlewoman, who was of an high and undauntable spirite, as all -such are, who have fixed their affection resolvedly, and love uppon -a grounded deliberation: concluded, quite against the counsell and -opinion of her Parents, Kindred, and Friends; to appeare in the Court, -as desiring rather to dye, by confessing the trueth with a manly -courage, then by denying it, and her love unto so worthy a person -as he was, in whole arms she chanced to be taken; to live basely in -exile with shame, as an eternall scandall to her race. So, before the -Potestate, shee made her apparance, worthily accompanied both with men -and women, all advising her to deny the acte: but she, not minding them -or their perswasions, looking on the Judge with a constant countenance, -and a voyce of setled resolve, craved to know of him, what hee -demaunded of her? - -The Potestate well noting her brave carriage, her singular beautie and -praise-worthy parts, her words apparantly witnessing the heighth of -her minde: beganne to take compassion on her, and doubted, least shee -would confesse some such matter, as should enforce him to pronounce the -sentence of death against her. But she boldly scorning all delayes, -or any further protraction of time; demanded again, what was her -accusation? Madame, answered the Potestate, I am sorry to tel you, -what needs I must, your husband (whom you see present heere) is the -complainant against you, avouching, that he tooke you in the act of -adultery with another man: and therefore he requireth, that, according -to the rigour of the Statute heere in force with us, I should pronounce -sentence against you, and (consequently) the infliction of death. -Which I cannot do, if you confesse not the fact, and therefore be well -advised, how you answer me, and tell me the truth, if it be as your -Husband accuseth you, or no. - -The Lady, without any dismay or dread at all, pleasantly thus replied. -My Lord, true it is, that _Rinaldo_ is my Husband, and that he found -me, on the night named, betweene the Armes of _Lazarino_, where many -times heeretofore he hath embraced mee, according to the mutuall love -re-plighted together, which I deny not, nor ever will. But you know -well enough, and I am certaine of it, that the Lawes enacted in any -Countrey, ought to be common, and made with consent of them whom they -concerne, which in this Edict of yours is quite contrarie. For it is -rigorous against none, but poore women onely, who are able to yeeld -much better content and satisfaction generally, then remaineth in the -power of men to do. And moreover, when this Law was made, there was not -any woman that gave consent to it, neither were they called to like or -allow thereof: in which respect, it may deservedly be termed, an unjust -Law. And if you will, in prejudice of my bodie, and of your owne soule, -be the executioner of so unlawfull an Edict, it consisteth in your -power to do as you please. - -But before you proceede to pronounce any sentence, may it please you -to favour me with one small request, namely, that you would demand of -my Husband, if at all times, and whensoever he tooke delight in my -company, I ever made any curiosity, or came to him unwillingly. Whereto -_Rinaldo_, without tarrying for the Potestate to moove the question, -sodainly answered; that (undoubtedly) his wife at all times, and oftner -then he could request it, was never sparing of her kindnesse, or put -him off with any deniall. Then the Lady, continuing on her former -speeches, thus replyed. Let me then demand of you my Lord, being our -Potestate and Judge, if it be so, by my Husbands owne free confession, -that he hath alwaies had his pleasure of me, without the least refusall -in me, or contradiction; what should I doe with the over-plus remaining -in mine owne power, and whereof he had no need? Would you have mee cast -it away to the Dogges? Was it not more fitting for me, to pleasure -therewith a worthy Gentleman, who was even at deaths doore for my love, -then (my husbands surfetting, and having no neede of me) to let him lye -languishing, and dye? - -Never was heard such an examination before, and to come from a woman of -such worth, the most part of the honourable _Pratosians_ (both Lords -and Ladies) being there present, who hearing her urge such a necessary -question, cryed out all aloud together with one voice (after they had -laughed their fill) that the Lady had saide well, and no more then she -might. So that, before they departed thence, by comfortable advice -proceeding from the Potestate: the Edict (being reputed overcruell) was -modified, and interpreted to concerne them onely, who offered injurie -to their Husbands for money. By which meanes, _Rinaldo_ standing as one -confounded, for such a foolish and unadvised enterprize, departed from -the Auditorie: and the Ladie, not a little joyfull to bee thus freed -and delivered from the fire, returned home with victorie to her owne -house. - - - - -Fresco da Celatico, _counselled and advised his Neece_ Cesca: _That if -such as deserved to be looked on, were offensive to her eyes, as she -had often told him; she should forbeare to looke on any._ - -The Eighth Novell. - -_In just scorne of such unsightly and ill-pleasing surly Sluts, who -imagine none to be faire or well-favoured, but themselves._ - - -All the while as _Philostratus_ was re-counting his Novell; it seemed, -that the Ladies (who heard it) found themselves much mooved thereat, as -by the wanton blood monting up into their cheekes, it plainly appeared. -But in the end, looking on each other with strange behaviour, they -could not forbeare smiling: which the Queene interrupting by a command -of attention, turning to Madame _Æmillia_, willed her to follow next. -When she, puffing and blowing, as if she had bene newly awaked from -sleepe, began in this manner. - -Faire Beauties; My thoughts having wandred a great distance hence, and -further then I can easily collect them together againe; in obedience -yet to our Queene, I shall report a much shorter Novell, then otherwise -(perhappes) I should have done, if my minde had beene a little neerer -home. I shall tell you the grosse fault of a foolish Damosell, well -corrected by a witty reprehension of her Uncle; if shee had bin endued -but with so much sence, as to have understood it. - -An honest man, named _Fresco da Celatico_, had a good fulsom wench to -his Neece, who for her folly and squemishnes, was generally called -_Cesca_, or nice _Francesca_. And althogh she had stature sufficient, -yet none of the handsomest, & a good hard favourd countenance, nothing -nere such Angelical beauties as we have seen: yet she was endued with -such height of minde, and so proud an opinion of her selfe, that it -appeared as a custome bred in hir, or rather a gift bestowed on hir -by nature (though none of the best) to blame and despise both men and -women, yea whosoever she lookt on; without any consideration of her -self, she being as unsightly, ill shaped, and ugly faced, as a worse -was very hardly to be found. - -Nothing could be done at any time, to yeilde her liking or content: -moreover, she was so waspish, nice, & squemish, that when she cam into -the royall Court of _France_, it was hatefull & contemptible to hir. -Whensoever she went through the streets, every thing stunke and was -noisome to her; so that she never did any thing but stop her nose; as -if all men or women she met withall; and whatsoever else she lookt on, -were stinking and offensive. But let us leave all further relation -of her ill conditions, being every way (indeed) so bad, and hardly -becomming any sensible body, that we cannot condemne them so much as we -should. - -It chanced upon a day, that shee comming home to the house where her -Uncle dwelt, declared her wonted scurvy and scornfull behaviour; -swelling, puffing, and pouting extreamly, in which humour she sat downe -by her Uncle, who desiring to know what had displeased her, said. Why -how now _Francesca_? what may the meaning of this bee? This being a -solemne festivall day, what is the reason of your so soone returning -home? She coily biting the lip, and brideling her head, as if she had -bene some mans best Gelding, sprucely thus replyed. - -Indeede you say true Uncle, I am come home verie earely, because, since -the day of my birth, I never saw a City so pestered with unhandsome -people, both men and women, and worse this high Holyday then ever I -did observe before. I walked thorow some store of streetes, and I -could not see one proper man: and as for the women, they are the most -misshapen and ugly creatures, that, if God had made me such an one, -I should be sorry that ever I was borne. And being no longer able to -endure such unpleasing sights; you will not thinke (Uncle) in what an -anger I am come home. _Fresco_, to whome these stinking qualities of -his Neece seemed so unsufferable, that hee could not (with patience) -endure them any longer, thus short and quickely answered. _Francesca_, -if all people of our Citie (both men and women) be so odious in thy -eyes, and offensive to thy nose, as thou hast often reported to me: bee -advised then by my counsell. Stay still at home, and look upon none but -thy selfe onely, and then thou shalt be sure that they cannot displease -thee. But she, being as empty of wit as a pith-lesse Cane, and yet -thought her judgement to exceed _Salomons_, could not understand the -lest part of hir Uncles meaning, but stood as senselesse as a sheepe. -Onely she replyed, that she would resort to some other parts of the -country, which if shee found as weakly furnished of handsome people, as -heere shee did, shee would conceive better of her selfe, then ever she -had done before. - - - - -Signior Guido Cavalcante, _with a sodaine and witty answer, reprehended -the rash folly of certaine Florentine Gentlemen, that thought to scorne -and flout him._ - -The Ninth Novell. - -_Notably discovering the great difference that is betweene learning and -ignorance, upon judicious apprehension._ - - -When the Queene perceived, that Madame _Æmillia_ was discharged of her -Novell, and none remained now to speake next, but onely her selfe, his -priviledge alwayes remembred, to whom it belonged to be the last, she -began in this manner. - -Faire Company, you have this day disappointed me of two Novells at the -least, whereof I had intended to make use. Neverthelesse, you shall -not imagine mee so unfurnished, but that I have left one in store; -the conclusion whereof, may minister such instruction, as will not -bee reputed for ydle and impertinent: but rather of such materiall -consequence, as better hath not this day past among us. - -Understand then (most faire Ladies) that in former times long since -past, our Cittie had many excellent and commendable customes in it; -whereof (in these unhappy dayes of ours) we cannot say that poore -one remaineth, such hath beene the too much encrease of Wealth and -Covetousnesse, the onely supplanters of all good qualities whatsoever. -Among which lawdable and friendly observations, there was one well -deserving note, namely, that in divers places of _Florence_, men of the -best houses in every quarter, had a sociable and neighbourly assemblie -together, creating their company to consist of a certaine number, such -as were able to supply their expences as this day one, and to morrow -another: and thus in a kinde of friendly course, each daily furnished -the Table, for the rest of the company. Oftentimes, they did honour to -divers Gentlemen and strangers, upon their arrivall in our Citty, by -inviting them into their assembly, and many of our worthiest Citizens -beside; so that it grew to a customary use, and one especially day in -the yeare appointed, in memory of this so loving a meeting, when they -would ride (triumphally as it were) on horsebacke thorow the Cittie, -sometimes performing Tilts, Tourneyes, and other Martiall exercises, -but they were reserved for Feastivall dayes. - -Among which company, there was one called, _Signior Betto Bruneleschi_, -who was earnestly desirous, to procure _Signior Guido Cavalcante de -Cavalcanti_, to make one in this their friendly society. And not -without great reason: for, over and beside his being one of the best -Logitians as those times could not yeeld a better: He was also a most -absolute naturall Philosopher (which worthy qualities were little -esteemed among these honest meeters) a very friendly Gentleman, -singularly well spoken, and whatsoever else was commendable in any man, -was no way wanting in him, being wealthy withall, and able to returne -equall honors, where he found them to be duly deserved, as no man -therein could go beyond him. But _Signior Betto_, notwithstanding his -long continued importunitie, could not draw him into their assembly, -which made him and the rest of his company conceive, that the solitude -of _Guido_, retiring himselfe alwaies from familiar conversing with -men: provoked him to many curious speculations: and because he retained -some part of the _Epicurean_ Opinion, their vulgare judgement passed on -him, that his speculations tended to no other end, but onely to finde -out that which was never done. - -It chanced upon a day, that _Signior Guido_ departing from the Church -of Saint _Michaell d'Horta_, and passing along by the _Adamari_, so -farre as to Saint _Johns_ Church, which evermore was his customarie -Walke: many goodly Marble Tombes were then about the saide Church, -as now adayes are at Saint _Reparata_, and divers more beside. He -entring among the Collumbes of Porphiry, and the other Sepulchers being -there, because the doore of the Church was shut: _Signior Betto_ & his -companie, came riding from S. _Reparata_, & espying _Signior Guido_ -among the graves and tombes, said. Come, let us go make some jests -to anger him. So putting the spurs to their horses, they rode apace -towards him: and being upon him before he perceived them, one of them -said. _Guido_ thou refusest to be one of our society, & seekest for -that which never was: when thou hast found it, tell us, what wilt thou -do with it? - -_Guido_ seeing himselfe round engirt with them, sodainly thus replyed: -Gentlemen, you may use mee in your owne house as you please. And -setting his hand on one of the Tombes (which was some-what great) he -tooke his rising, and leapt quite over it on the further side, as being -of an agile and sprightly body, and being thus freed from them, he went -away to his owne lodging. They stoode all like men amazed, strangely -looking one upon another, and began afterward to murmure among -themselves: That _Guido_ was a man without any understanding, and the -answer which he had made unto them, was to no purpose, neither savoured -of any discretion, but meerely came from an empty brain because they -had no more to do in the place where now they were, then any of the -other Citizens, and Signior _Guido_ (himselfe) as little as any of -them; whereto Signior _Betto_ thus replyed. - -Alas Gentlemen, it is you your selves that are void of understanding: -for, if you had but observed the answer which he made unto us: hee did -honestly, and (in verie few words) not onely notably expresse his owne -wisedome, but also deservedly reprehend us. Because, if wee observe -things as we ought to doe, Graves and Tombes are the houses of the -dead, ordained and prepared to be their latest dwellings. He tolde us -moreover, that although we have heere (in this life) other habitations -and abidings; yet these (or the like) must at last be our houses. To -let us know, and all other foolish, indiscreete, and unlearned men, -that we are worse then dead men, in comparison of him, and other men -equall to him in skill and learning. And therefore, while wee are heere -among these Graves and Monuments, it may well be said, that we are not -farre from our owne houses, or how soone we shall be possessors of -them, in regard of the frailty attending on us. - -Then every one could presently say, that Signior _Guido_ had spoken -nothing but the truth, and were much ashamed of their owne folly, and -shallow estimation which they had made of _Guido_, desiring never more -after to meddle with him so grossely, and thanking Signior _Betto_, for -so well reforming their ignorance, by his much better apprehension. - - - - -_Fryer_ Onyon, _promised certaine honest people of the Countrey, to -shew them a Feather of the same Phoenix, that was with_ Noah _in his -Arke. In sted whereof, he found Coales, which he avouched to be those -very coals, wherewith the same Phoenix was roasted._ - -The Tenth Novell. - -_Wherein may be observed, what palpable abuses do many times passe, -under the counterfeit Cloake of Religion._ - - -When all of them had delivered their Novels, _Dioneus_ knowing that -it remained in him to relate the last for this day: without attending -for any solemne command (after he had imposed silence on them, that -could not sufficiently commend the witty reprehension of _Guido_) -thus he began. Wise and worthy Ladies, although by the priviledge you -have granted, it is lawfull for me to speake any thing best pleasing -to my self: yet notwithstanding, it is not any part of my meaning, to -varrie from the matter and method, whereof you have spoken to very -good purpose. And therefore, following your footsteppes, I entend to -tell you, how craftily, and with a Rampiar sodainly raised in his owne -defence: a Religious Frier of Saint _Anthonies_ Order, shunned a shame, -which two wily companions had prepared for him. Nor let it offend -you, if I run into more large discourse, then this day hath bene used -by any, for the apter compleating of my Novell: because, if you well -observe it, the Sun is as yet in the middest of heaven, and therefore -you may the better forbeare me. - -_Certoldo_, as (perhaps) you know, or have heard, is a Village in -the Vale of _Elsa_, and under the authority and commaund of our -_Florence_, which although it be but small: yet (in former times) it -hath bin inhabited with Gentlemen, and people of especiall respect. A -religious Friar of S. _Anthonies_ Order, named Friar _Onyon_, had long -time used to resort thither, to receive the benevolent almes, which -those charitably affected people in simplicity gave him, & chiefly at -divers daies of the year, when their bounty and devotion would extend -themselves more largely then at other seasons. And so much the rather, -because they thought him to be a good Pastor of holy life in outward -appearance, & carried a name of much greater matter, then remained -in the man indeed; beside, that part of the country yeilded far more -plentifull abundance of Onyons, then all other in _Tuscany_ elsewhere, -a kinde of foode greatly affected by those Friars, as men alwaies -of hungry & good appetite. This Friar _Onyon_ was a man of little -stature, red haire, a chearfull countenance, and the world afforded -not a more crafty companion, then he. Moreover, albeit he had very -little knowledge or learning, yet he was so prompt, ready & voluble of -speech, uttering often he knew not what himselfe: that such as were -not wel acquainted with his qualities, supposed him to be a singular -Rhetoritian, excelling _Cicero_ or _Quintilian_ themselves; & he was -a gossip, friend, or deerely affected, by every one dwelling in those -parts. According to his wonted custome, one time he went thither in -the month of August, and on a Sunday morning, when all the dwellers -thereabout, were present to heare Masse, and in the chiefest Church -above all the rest: when the Friar saw time convenient for his purpose, -he advanced himselfe, and began to speake in this manner. - -Gentlemen and Gentlewomen, you know you have kept a commendable custom, -in sending yeerly to the poore brethren of our Lord Baron S. _Anthony_, -both of your Corne and other provision, some more, some lesse, all -according to their power, means, and devotion, to the end that -blessed S. _Anthony_ should be the more carefull of your oxen, sheep, -asses, swine, pigs, and other cattle. Moreover, you have used to pay -(especially such as have their names registred in our Fraternity) those -duties which annually you send unto us. For the collection whereof, -I am sent by my Superior, namely our L. Abbot, & therefore (with Gods -blessing) you may come after noone hither, when you shal heare the Bels -of the Church ring: then will I make a predication to you; you shall -kisse the Crosse, and beside, because I know you al to be most devout -servants to our Lord Baron S. _Anthony_, in especiall grace and favor, -I will shew you a most holy and goodly Relique, which I my selfe (long -since) brought from the holy Land beyond the seas. If you desire to -know what it is, let me tell you, that it is one of the Feathers of the -same _Phoenix_, which was in the Arke with the Patriarch _Noah_. And -having thus spoken, he became silent, returning backe to heare Masse. -While hee delivered these and the like speeches, among the other people -then in the church, there were two shrewde and crafty Companions; the -one, named _John de Bragoniero_, and the other, _Biagio Pizzino_. These -subtile Fellowes, after they had heard the report of Fryer _Onyons_ -Relique: althogh they were his intimate friends, and came thither -in his company; yet they concluded betweene themselves, to shew him -a tricke of Legierdumaine, and to steale the Feather from him. When -they had intelligence of Friar _Onyons_ dining that day at the Castle, -with a worthy Friend of his: no sooner was he set at the Table, but -away went they in all haste, to the Inne where the Fryar frequented, -with this determination, that _Biagio_ should hold conference with the -Friars boy, while his fellow ransackt the Wallet, to finde the Feather, -and carry it away with him, for a future observation, what the Friar -would say unto the people, when he found the losse of the Feather, and -could not performe his promise to them. - -The Fryars Boy, whom some called _Guccio Balena_, some _Guccio -Imbrata_, and others _Guccio Porco_, was such a knavish Lad, and had so -many bad qualities, as _Lippo Topo_ the cunning Painter, or the most -curious Poeticall wit, had not any ability to describe them. Friar -_Onyon_ himself did often observe his behaviour, and would make this -report among his Friends. My Boy (quoth he) hath nine rare qualities -in him, and such they are, as if _Salomon, Aristotle,_ or _Seneca_ had -onely but one of them: it were sufficient to torment and trouble all -their vertue, all their senses, & all their sanctity. Consider then, -what manner of man he is like to be, having nine such rarities, yet -voide of all vertue, wit, or goodnes. And when it was demaunded of -Friar _Onyon_, what these nine rare conditions were: hee having them -all readie by heart, and in rime, thus answered: - - _Boyes I have knowne, and seene, - And heard of many:_ - But, - _For Lying, Loytring, Lazinesse, - For Facing, Filching, Filthinesse; - For Carelesse, Gracelesse, all Unthriftinesse, - My Boy excelleth any._ - -Now, over and beside all these admirable qualities, hee hath manie -more such singularities, which (in favour towards him) I am faine to -conceale. But that which I smile most at in him, is that he would have -a Wife in every place where he commeth, yea, and a good house to boot -too: for, in regard his beard beginneth to shew it selfe, rising thicke -in haire, blacke and amiable, he is verily perswaded, that all Women -will fall in love with him; and if they refuse to follow him, he will -in all hast run after them. But truly, he is a notable servant to mee, -for I cannot speake with any one, and in never so great secrecy, but he -will be sure to heare his part; and when any question is demanded of -me, he standes in such awe and feare of my displeasure: that he will -bee sure to make the first answer, yea or no, according as he thinketh -most convenient. - -Now, to proceede where we left, Friar _Onyon_ having left this -serviceable youth at his lodging, to see that no bodie should -meddle with his commodities, especially his Wallet, because of the -sacred things therein contained: _Guccio Imbrata_, who as earnestly -affected to be in the Kitchin, as Birds to hop from branch to branch, -especially, when anie of the Chamber-maides were there, espyed one of -the Hostesses Female attendants, a grosse fat Trugge, low of stature, -ill faced, and worse formed, with a paire of brests like two bumbards, -smelling loathsomely of grease and sweate; downe shee descended into -the Kitchin, like a Kite upon a peece of Carion. This Boy, or Knave, -chuse whither you will style him, having carelesly left Fryar _Onyons_ -Chamber doore open, and all the holy things so much to be neglected, -although it was then the moneth of August, when heate is in the highest -predominance, yet hee would needs sit downe by the fire, and began to -conferre with this amiable creature, who was called by the name of -_Nuta_. - -Being set close by her, he told her, that he was a Gentleman by -Atturniship, and that he had more millions of Crownes, then all his -life time would serve him to spend; beside those which he payed -away dayly, as having no convenient imployment for them. Moreover, -he knew how to speake, and do such things, as were beyond wonder or -admiration. And, never remembring his olde tatterd Friars Cowle, -which was so snottie and greazie, that good store of kitchin stuffe -might have beene boiled out of it; as also a foule slovenly Trusse -or halfedoublet, all baudied with bowsing, fat greazie lubberly -sweating, and other drudgeries in the Convent Kitchin, where he was an -Officer in the meanest credite. So that to describe this sweet youth -in his lively colours, both for naturall perfections of body, and -artificiall composure of his Garments; never came the fowlest silks out -of _Tartaria_ or _India_, more ugly or unsightly to bee lookt upon. -And for a further addition to his neate knavery, his breeches were so -rent betweene his legges, his shooes and stockings had bin at such a -mercilesse massacre: that the gallantest _Commandador_ of _Castile_ -(though he had never so lately bin releast out of slavery) could have -wisht for better garments, then he; or make larger promises, then he -did to his _Nuta_. Protesting to entitle her as his onely, to free her -from the Inne and Chamber thraldomes, if she would live with him, be -his Love, partaker of his present possessions, and so to succeed in his -future Fortunes. All which bravadoes, though they were belcht foorth -with admirable insinuations: yet they converted into smoke, as all such -braggadochio behaviours do, and he was as wise at the ending, as when -he began. - -Our former named two craftie Companions, seeing _Guccio Porco_ so -seriously employed about _Nuta_, was there-with not a little contented, -because their intended labour was now more then halfe ended. And -perceiving no contradiction to crosse their proceeding, into Friar -_Onyons_ chamber entred they, finding it ready open for their purpose: -where the first thing that came into their hand in search, was the -wallet. When they had opened it, they found a small Cabinet, wrapped in -a great many foldings of rich Taffata; and having unfolded it, a fine -formall Key was hanging thereat: wherewith having unlockt the Cabinet, -they found a faire Feather of a Parrots taile, which they supposed to -bee the verie same, that he meant to shew the people of _Certaldo_. -And truly (in those dayes) it was no hard matter to make them beleeve -anything, because the idle vanities of _Ægypt_ and those remoter parts, -had not (as yet) bin seene in _Tuscany_, as since then they have bin in -great abundance, to the utter ruine (almost) of _Italy_. - -And although they might then be knowne to very few, yet the inhabitants -of the Country generally, understoode little or nothing at all of -them. For there, the pure simplicitie of their ancient predecessours -still continuing; they had not seene any Parrots, or so much as heard -any speech of them. Wherefore the two crafty consorts, not a little -joyfull of finding the Feather, tooke it thence with them, and because** -they would not leave the Cabinet empty, espying Char-coales lying in a -corner of the Chamber, they filled it with them, wrapping it up againe -in the Taffata, and in as demure manner as they found it. So, away came -they with the Feather, neither seene or suspected by any one, intending -now to heare what Friar _Onyon_ would say, uppon the losse of his -precious Relique, and finding the Coales there placed insted thereof. - -The simple men and women of the country, who had bin at morning Masse -in the Church, and heard what a wonderfull Feather they should see -in the after noone; returned in all hast to their houses, where one -telling this newes to another, and gossip with gossip consulting -thereon; they made the shorter dinner, and afterward flocked in maine -troopes to the Castle, contending who shold first get entrance, such -was their devotion to see the holy feather. Friar _Onyon_ having -dined, and reposed a little after his wine, he arose from the table to -the window, where beholding what multitudes came to see the feather, -he assured himselfe of good store of mony. Hereupon, he sent to his -Boy _Guccio Imbrata_, that uppon the Bels ringing, he should come and -bring the wallet to him. Which (with much ado) he did, so soone as -his quarrell was ended in the kitchin, with the amiable Chamber-maid -_Nuta_, away then he went with his holy commodities: where he was no -sooner arrived, but because his belly was readie to burst with drinking -water, he sent him to the Church to ring the bels, which not onely -would warme the cold water in his belly, but likewise make him run as -gaunt as a Grey-hound. - -When all the people were assembled in the Church together, Friar -_Onyon_ (never distrusting any injurie offered him, or that his close -commodities had bin medled withall) began his predication, uttering a -thousand lies to fit his purpose. And when he came to shew the feather -of the Phoenix (having first in great devotion finisht the confession) -he caused two goodly torches to be lighted, & ducking downe his head -three severall times, before hee would so much as touch the Taffata, he -opened it with much reverence. So soone as the Cabinet came to be seen, -off went his Hood, lowly he bowed downe his body, and uttering especial -praises of the Phoenix, and sacred properties of the wonderfull -Relique, the Cover of the Cabinet being lifted uppe, he saw the same -to bee full of Coales. He could not suspect his Villaine boy to do -this deede, for he knew him not to be endued with so much wit, onely -hee curst him for keeping it no better, and curst himselfe also, for -reposing trust in such a careles knave, knowing him to be slothfull, -disobedient, negligent, and void of all honest understanding or grace. -Sodainly (without blushing) lest his losse should be discerned, he -lifted his lookes and hands to heaven, speaking out so loude, as every -one might easily heare him, thus: O thou omnipotent providence, for -ever let thy power be praised. Then making fast the Cabinet againe, and -turning himselfe to the people, with lookes expressing admiration, he -proceeded in this manner. - -Lords, Ladies, and you the rest of my worthy Auditors: You are to -understand, that I (being then very young) was sent by my Superiour, -into those parts, where the Sun appeareth at his first rising. And -I had received charge by expresse command, that I should seeke for -(so much as consisted in my power to do) the especiall vertues and -priviledges belonging to Porcellane, which although the boyling -thereof bee worth but little, yet it is very profitable to any but -us. In regard whereof, being upon my journey, and departing from -_Venice_, passing along the _Borgo de Grecia_, I proceeded thence (on -horseback) through the Realme of _Garbo_, so to _Baldacca_, till I came -to _Parione_; from whence, not without great extremity of thirst, I -arrived in _Sardignia_. - -But why do I trouble you with the repetition of so many countries? -I coasted on still, after I had past Saint _Georges Arme_, into -_Trussia_, and then into _Bussia_, which are Countries much inhabited, -and with great people. From thence I went into the _Land of Lying_, -where I found store of the Brethren of our Religion, and many other -beside, who shunned all paine and labour, onely for the love of God, -and cared as little, for the paines and travailes which others tooke, -except some benefit arised thereby to them; nor spend they any money -in this Country, but such as is without stampe. Thence I went into the -Land of _Abruzzi_, where the men and women goe in Galoches over the -Mountaines, and make them garments of their Swines guts. Not farre from -thence, I found people, that carried bread in their staves, and wine -in Satchels, when parting from them, I arrived among the Mountaines of -_Bacchus_, where all the waters run downe with a deepe fall, and in -short time, I went on so far, that I found my selfe to be in _India -Pastinaca_; where I swear to you by the holy habit which I weare on my -body, that I saw Serpents flye, things incredible, and such as were -never seene before. - -But because I would be loth to lye, so soone as I departed thence, I -met with _Maso de Saggio_, who was a great Merchant there, and whom I -found cracking Nuts, and selling Cockles by retale. Neverthelesse, al -this while I could not finde what I sought for, and therefore I was -to passe from hence by water, if I intended to travaile thither, and -so in returning back, I came into the _Holy Land_, where coole fresh -bread is sold for fourepence, and the hot is given away for nothing. -There I found the venerable Father (blame me not I beseech you) the -most woorthie Patriarch of _Jerusalem_, who for the reverence due to -the habite I weare, and love to our Lord Baron Saint _Anthony_, would -have me to see al the holy Reliques, which he had there under his -charge: whereof there were so many, as if I should recount them all to -you, I never could come to a conclusion. But yet, not to leave you -discomforted, I will relate some few of them to you. - -First of all, he shewed me the finger of the holy Ghost, so whole and -perfect, as ever it was. Next, the nose of the Cherubin, which appeared -to Saint _Frances_; with the payring of the naile of a Seraphin; and -one of the ribbes of _Verbum caro_, fastened to one of the Windowes, -covered with the holy garments of the Catholique Faith. Then he tooke -me into a darke Chappel, where he shewed me divers beames of the -Starre that appeared to the three Kings in the East. Also a Violl of -Saint _Michaels_ sweate, when he combatted with the divell: And the -jaw-bone of dead _Lazarus_, with many other precious things beside. -And because I was liberall to him, giving him two of the Plaines of -_Monte Morello_, in the Vulgare Edition, and some of the Chapters _del -Caprezio_, which he had long laboured in search of; he bestowed on me -some of his Reliques. - -First, he gave me one of the eye-teeth of _Santa Crux_; and a little -Violl, filled with some part of the sound of those Belles, which hung -in the sumptuous Temple of _Salomon_. Next, he gave mee the Feather -of the Phoenix, which was with _Noah_ in the Arke, as before I told -you. And one of the Woodden Pattens, which the good Saint _Gerrard de -Magnavilla_ used to weare in his travailes, and which I gave (not long -since) to _Gerrardo di Bousy_ at _Florence_, where it is respected with -much devotion. Moreover, he gave me a few of those Coales, wherewith the -Phoenix of _Noah_ was roasted; all which things I brought away thence -with me. Now, most true it is, that my Superiour would never suffer mee -to shew them any where, untill he was faithfully certified, whether -they were the same precious Reliques, or no. But perceyving by sundrie -Myracles which they have wrought, and Letters of sufficient credence -receyved from the reverend Patriarch, that all is true, he hath -graunted me permission to shew them, and because I wold not trust any -one with matters of such moment, I my selfe brought them hither with me. - -Now I must tell you, that the Feather of the same Phoenix, I conveyed -into a small Cabinet or Casket, because it should not be bent or -broken. And the Coales wherewith the said Phoenix was roasted, I put -into another Casket, in all respects so like to the former, that many -times I have taken one for another. As now at this instant it hath bin -my fortune: for, imagining that I brought the Casket with the feather, -I mistooke my self, & brought the other with the coales. Wherein -doubtles I have not offended, because I am certaine, that we of our -Order do not any thing, but it is ordred by divine direction, and our -blessed Patron the Lorde Baron Saint _Anthony_. And so much the rather, -because about a senight hence, the Feast of Saint _Anthony_ is to bee -solemnized, against the preparation whereof, and to kindle your zeale -with the greater fervencie: he put the Casket with the Coales into -my hand, meaning, to let you see the Feather, at some more fitting -season. And therefore my blessed Sonnes and Daughters, put off your -Bonnets, and come hither with devotion to looke upon them. But first -let me tell you, whosoever is marked by any of these Coales, with the -signe of the Crosse: he or she shall live all this yeare happily, and no -fire whatsoever shall come neere to touch or hurt them. So, singing a -solemne Antheme in the praise of S. _Anthony_, he unveyled the Casket, -and shewed the Coales openly. - -The simple multitude, having (with great admiration and reverence) -a long while beheld them, they thronged in crouds to Fryar _Onyon_, -giving him farre greater offerings, then before they had, and -entreating him to marke them each after other. Whereupon, he taking -the coales in his hand, began to marke their garments of white, and -the veyles on the Womens heads, with Crosses of no meane extendure: -affirming to them, that the more the Coales wasted with making those -great crosses, the more they still encreased in the Casket, as often -before hee had made triall. - -In this manner, having crossed all the _Certaldanes_ (to his great -benefit) and their abuse: he smiled at his sodaine and dexterious -devise, in mockery of them, who thought to have made a scorne of him, -by dispossessing him of the Feather. For _Bragoniero_ and _Pizzino_, -being present at his Learned predication, and having heard what -a cunning shift he found, to come off cleanly, without the least -detection, and all delivered with such admirable protestations: they -were faine to forsake the Church, least they should have burst with -laughing. - -But when all the people were parted and gone, they met Friar _Onyon_ -at his Inne, where closely they discovered to him, what they had done, -delivering him his Feather againe: which the yeare following, did yeeld -him as much money, as now the Coales had done. - - * * * * * - -This Novell affoorded equall pleasing to the whole companie, Friar -_Onyons_ Sermon being much commended, but especially his long -Pilgrimage, and the Reliques he had both seene, and brought home -with him. Afterward, the Queene perceiving, that her reigne had now -the full expiration, graciously she arose, and taking the Crowne -from off her owne head, placed on the head of _Dioneus_, saying. It -is high time _Dioneus_, that you should taste part of the charge & -paine, which poore women have felt and undergone in their soveraigntie -and government: wherefore, be you our King, and rule us with such -awefull authority, that the ending of your dominion may yeelde us all -contentment. _Dioneus_ being thus invested with the Crowne, returned -this answer. - -I make no doubt (bright Beauties) but you many times have seene as -good, or a better King among the Chesse-men, then I am. But yet of a -certainty, if you would be obedient to me, as you ought in dutie unto -a true King: I should grant you a liberall freedome of that, wherein -you take the most delight, and without which, our choisest desires can -never be compleate. Neverthelesse, I meane, that my government shall be -according to mine owne minde. So, causing the Master of the Houshold to -be called for, as all the rest were wont to do for conference with him: -he gave him direction, for al things fitting the time of his Regiment, -and then turning to the Ladies, thus he proceeded. - -Honest Ladies, we have alreadie discoursed of variable devises, and -so many severall manners of humane industry, concerning the busines -wherewith _Licisca_ came to acquaint us: that her very words, have -ministred me matter, sufficient for our morrowes conference, or else I -stand in doubt, that I could not have devised a more convenient Theame -for us to talke on. She (as you have all heard) saide, that shee had -not anie neighbour, who came a true Virgin to her Husband, and added -moreover, that she knew some others, who had beguiled their Husbandes, -in very cunning and crafty manner. But setting aside the first part, -concerning the proofe of children, I conceive the second to bee more -apte for our intended argument. In which respect, my will is (seeing -_Licisca_ hath given us so good an occasion) that our discoursing to -morrow,** may onely concerne such slye cunning and deceits, as women have -heeretofore used, for satisfying their owne appetites, and beguiling -their Husbands, without their knowledge, or suspition, and cleanly -escaping with them, or no. - -This argument seemed not very pleasing to the Ladies, and therefore -they urged an alteration thereof, to some matter better suting with the -day, and their discoursing: whereto thus he answered. Ladies, I know as -well as your selves, why you would have this instant argument altered: -but, to change me from it you have no power, considering the season -is such, as shielding all (both men and women) from medling with any -dishonest action; it is lawfull for us to speake of what wee please. -And know you not, that through the sad occasion of the time, which now -over-ruleth us, the Judges have forsaken their venerable benches, the -Lawes (both divine and humane) ceasing, granting ample license to every -one, to do what best agreeth with the conservation of life? Therefore, -if your honesties doe straine themselves a little, both in thinking -and speaking, not for prosecution of any immodest deede, but onely for -familiar and blamelesse entercourse: I cannot devise a more convenient -ground, at least that carrieth apparant reason, for reproofe of perils, -to ensue by any of you. Moreover, your company, which hath bin most -honest, since the first day of our meeting, to this instant: appeareth -not any jot to be disgraced, by any thing either said or done, neither -shall be (I hope) in the meanest degree. - -And what is he, knowing your choise and vertuous dispositions, so -powerfull in their owne prevailing, that wanton words cannot misguide -your wayes, no nor the terror of death it selfe, that dare insinuate a -distempred thought? But admit, that some slight or shallow judgements, -hearing you (perhaps sometimes) talke of such amorous follies, should -therefore suspitiously imagine you to be faulty, or else you would bee -more sparing of speech? Their wit and censure are both alike, favouring -rather of their owne vile nature, who would brand others with their -basebred imperfections. Yet there is another consideration beside, of -some great injury offered to mine honor, and whereof I know not how you -can acquit your selves. - -I that have bin obedient to you all, and borne the heavy load of your -businesse, having now (with full consent) created mee your King, you -would wrest the law out of my hands, and dispose of my authoritie as -you please. Forbeare (gentle Ladies) all frivolous suspitions, more fit -for them that are full of bad thoughts, then you, who have true Vertue -shining in your eyes; and therefore, let every one freely speake their -minde, according as their humours best pleaseth them. - -When the Ladies heard this, they made answer, that all should bee -answerable to his minde. Whereupon, the King gave them all leave -to dispose of themselves till supper time. And because the Sun -was yet very high, in regard all the re counted Novels had bin so -short: _Dioneus_ went to play at the Tables with another of the yong -Gentlemen, & Madame _Eliza_, having withdrawne the Ladies aside, thus -spake unto them. During the time of our being heere, I have often bene -desirous to let you see a place somwhat neere at hand, and which I -suppose you have never seene, it being called _The Valley of Ladies_. -Till now, I could not finde any convenient time to bring you thither, -the Sunne continuing still aloft, which fitteth you with the apter -leysure, and the sight (I am sure) can no way discontent you. - -The Ladies replyed, that they were all ready to walk with her thither: -and calling one of their women to attend on them, they set on, without -speaking a word to any of the men. And within the distance of halfe -a mile, they arrived at the _Valley of Ladies_, whereinto they entred -by a strait passage at the one side, from whence there issued forth a -cleare running River. And they found the saide Valley to bee so goodly -and pleasant, especially in that season, which was the hottest of all -the yeare; as all the world was no where able to yeeld the like. And, -as one of the said Ladies (since then) related to mee, there was a -plaine in the Valley so directly round, as if it had beene formed by a -compasse, yet rather it resembled the Workmanship of Nature, then to be -made by the hand of man: containing in circuite somewhat more then the -quarter of a mile, environed with sixe small hils, of no great height, -and on each of them stood a little Palace, shaped in the fashion of -Castles. - -The ground-plots descending from those hils or mountaines, grew lesse -and lesse by variable degrees, as wee observe at entering into our -Theaters, from the highest part to the lowest, succinctly to narrow -the circle by order. Now, concerning these ground-plottes or little -Meadowes, those which the Sun Southward looked on, were full of Vines, -Olive-trees, Almond-trees, Cherry-trees, and Figge-trees, with divers -other Trees beside, so plentifully bearing fruites, as you could not -discerne a hands bredth of losse. The other Mountaines, whereon the -Northerne windes blow, were curiously covered with small Thickets or -Woods of Oakes, Ashes, and other Trees so greene and straite, as it was -impossible to behold fairer. The goodly plaine it selfe, not having any -other entrance, but where the Ladies came in, was planted with Trees of -Firre, Cipresse, Laurell, and Pines; so singularly growing in formall -order, as if some artificiall or cunning hand had planted them, the Sun -hardly piercing through their branches, from the top to the bottome, -even at his highest, or any part of his course. - -All the whole field was richly spred with grasse, and such variety of -delicate Flowers, as Nature yeilded out of her plenteous Store-house. -But that which gave no lesse delight then any of the rest, was a small -running Brooke, descending from one of the Vallies, that divided two -of the little hils, and fell through a Veine of the intire Rocke it -selfe, that the fall and murmure thereof was most delightfull to heare, -seeming all the way in the descent, like Quicke-silver, weaving it -selfe into artificiall workes, and arriving in the plaine beneath, it -was there receyved into a small Channell, swiftly running through the -midst of the plaine, to a place where it stayed, and shaped it selfe -into a Lake or Pond, such as our Citizens have in their Orchards or -Gardens, when they please to make use of such a commodity. - -This Pond was no deeper, then to reach the breast of a man, and having -no mud or soyle in it, the bottome thereof shewed like small beaten -gravell, with prety pibble stones intermixed, which some that had -nothing else to do, would sit downe and count them as they lay, as -very easily they might. And not onely was the bottome thus apparantly -seene, but also such plenty of Fishes swimming every way, as the mind -was never to be wearied in looking on them. Nor was this water bounded -in with any bankes, but onely the sides of the plain Medow, which -made it appeare the more sightly, as it arose in swelling plenty. And -alwayes as it super-abounded in his course, least it should overflow -disorderly: it fell into another Channell, which conveying it along the -lower Valley, ran forth to water other needfull places. - -When the Ladies were arrived in this goodly valley, and upon advised -viewing it, had sufficiently commended it: in regard the heat of the -day was great, the place tempting, and the Pond free from sight of -any, they resolved there to bathe themselves. Wherefore they sent -the waiting Gentlewoman to have a diligent eye on the way where they -entered, least any one should chance to steale upon them. All seven -of them being stript naked, into the water they went, which hid their -delicate white bodies, like as a cleare Glasse concealeth a Damask -Rose within it. So they being in the Pond, and the water nothing -troubled by their being there, they found much prety pastime together, -running after the Fishes, to catch them with their hands, but they were -over-quicke and cunning for them. After they had delighted themselves -there to their owne contentment, and were cloathed with their garments, -as before: thinking it fit time for their returning backe againe, least -their over-long stay might give offence, they departed thence in an -easie pace, dooing nothing else all the way as they went, but extolling -the _Valley of Ladies_ beyond all comparison. - -At the Palace they arrived in a due houre, finding the three Gentlemen -at play, as they left them, to whom Madame _Pampinea_ pleasantly thus -spake. Now trust me Gallants, this day wee have very cunningly beguiled -you. How now? answered _Dioneus_, begin you first to act, before you -speake? Yes truly Sir, replyed Madame _Pampinea_: Relating to him at -large, from whence they came, what they had done there, the beautie -of the place, and the distance thence. The King (upon hir excellent -report) being very desirous to see it; sodainely commaunded Supper -to be served in, which was no sooner ended, but they and their three -servants (leaving the Ladies) walked on to the _Valley_, which when -they had considered, no one of them having ever bin there before; they -thought it to be the Paradise of the World. - -They bathed themselves there likewise, as the Ladies formerlie had -done, and being re-vested, returned backe to their Lodgings, because -darke night drew on apace: but they found the Ladies dauncing, to a -Song which Madame _Fiammetta_ sung. When the dance was ended, they -entertained the time with no other discourse, but onely concerning the -_Valley of Ladies_, whereof they all spake liberally in commendations. -Whereupon, the King called the Master of the Houshold, giving him -command, that (on the morrow) dinner should be readie betimes, and -bedding to be thence carried, if any desired rest at mid-time of the -day. - -All this being done, variety of pleasing Wines were brought, -Banquetting stuffe, and other dainties; after which they fell to -Dauncing. And _Pamphilus_, having receyved command, to begin an -especial dance, the King turned himselfe unto Madame _Eliza_, speaking -thus. Faire Lady, you have done me so much honour this day, as to -deliver mee the Crowne: in regard whereof, be you this night the -Mistresse of the song: and let it be such as best may please your -selfe. Whereunto Madam _Eliza_, with a modest blush arising in her -face, replyed; That his will should be fulfilled, and then (with a -delicate voyce) she beganne in this manner. - - _The Song._ - - The CHORUS sung by all. - - _Love, if I can scape free from forth thy holde, - Beleeve it for a truth, - Never more shall thy falshoode me enfolde._ - - _When I was yong, I entred first thy fights, - Supposing there to finde a solemne peace: - I threw off all my Armes, and with delights - Fed my poore hopes, as still they did encrease. - But like a Tyrant, full of rancorous hate - Thou tookst advantage: - And I sought refuge, but it was too late. - Love, if I can scape free, &c._ - - _But being thus surprized in thy snares, - To my misfortune, thou madst me her slave; - Was onely borne to feede me with despaires, - And keepe me dying in a living grave. - For I saw nothing dayly fore mine eyes, - But rackes and tortures: - From which I could not get in any wise. - Love, if I can scape free, &c._ - - _My sighes and teares I vented to the winde, - For none would heare or pittie my complaints; - My torments still encreased in this kinde, - And more and more I felt these sharpe restraints. - Release me now at last from forth this hell. - Asswage thy rigour, - Delight not thus in cruelty to dwell, - Love, if I can scape free, &c._ - - _If this thou wilt not grant, be yet so kinde, - Release me from these worse then servile bands, - Which new vaine hopes have bred, wherein I finde; - Such violent feares, as comfort quite withstands. - Be now (at length) a little moov'd to pittie, - Be it nere so little: - Or in my death listen my Swan-like Dittie._ - - _Love, if I can scape free from forth thy holde, - Beleeve it for a truth, - Never more shall thy falshood me enfolde._ - -After that Madame _Eliza_ had made an end of her Song, which shee -sealed up with an heart-breaking sigh: they all sate amazedly wondering -at her moanes, not one among them being able to conjecture, what should -be the reason of her singing in this manner. But the King being in a -good and pleasing temper, calling _Tindaro_, commaunded him to bring -his Bagge-pipe, by the sound whereof they danced divers daunces: And a -great part of the night being spent in this manner, they all gave over, -and departed to their Chambers. - -_The End of the Sixth Day._ - - - - -The Seventh Day. - -_When the Assembly being met together, and under the Regiment of_ -Dioneus: _the Discourses are directed, for the discoverie of such -policies and deceites, as women have used for beguiling of their -Husbandes, either in respect of their love, or for the prevention of -some blame or scandal, escaping without sight, knowledge or otherwise._ - -The Induction to the Dayes Discourses. - - -All the Starres were departed out of the East, but onely that, which -we commonly cal bright _Lucifer_, or the Day-Star, gracing the morning -very gloriously: when the Master of the household, being risen, went -with all the provision, to the _Valley of Ladies_, to make everie -thing in due and decent readines, according as his Lord over-night had -commanded him. After which departure of his, it was not long before the -King arose, beeing awaked with the noise which the carriages made; and -when he was up, the other two Gentlemen and the Ladies were quickly -readie soone after. On they set towards the _Valley_, even as the -Sunne was rising: and all the way as they went, never before had they -heard so many sweete Nightingales, and other pretty Birds melodiously -singing, as they did this morning, which keeping them company -thoroughout the journey, they arrived at the _Valley of Ladies_, where -it seemed to them, that infinit Quires of delicate Nightingales, and -other Birds, had purposely made a meeting, even as it were to give them -a glad welcome thither. - -Divers times they walked about the _Valley_, never satisfied with -viewing it from one end to the other; because it appeared farre -more pleasing unto them, then it had done the precedent day: and -because the dayes splendour was much more conforme to the beauty -thereof. After they had broken their fast, with excellent Wines and -Banquetting stuffe, they began to tune their instruments and sing; -because (therein) the sweet Birds should not excell them, the _Valley_ -(with delicate Echoes) answering all their notes. When dinner time -drew neere, the Tables were covered under the spreading trees, and -by the goodly Ponds side, where they sate downe orderly by the Kings -direction: and all dinner while, they saw the Fishes swimme by huge -shoales in the Pond, which sometimes gave them occasion to talke, as -well as gaze on them. - -When dinner was ended, and the Tables withdrawne, in as jocond manner -as before, they renewed againe their hermonious singing. In divers -places of this pleasant _Valley_, were goodly field-Beds readily -furnished, according as the Master of the Houshold gave enstruction, -enclosed with Pavillions of costly stuffes, such as are sometimes -brought out of _France_. Such as were so disposed, were licensed by the -King to take their rest: and they that would not, he permitted them to -their wonted pastimes, each according to their minds. But when they -were risen from sleepe, and the rest from their other exercises, it -seemed to be more then high time, that they should prepare for talke -and conference. So, sitting downe on Turky Carpets, which were spred -abroad on the green grasse, and close by the place where they had -dined: the King gave command, that Madam _Æmillia_ should first begin, -whereto she willingly yeelding obedience, and expecting such silent -attention, as formerly had bin observed, thus she began. - - - - -John _of_ Lorraine _heard one knocke at his doore in the night time, -whereuppon he awaked his Wife_ Monna Tessa. _She made him beleeve, that -it was a Spirit which knocked at the doore, and so they arose, going -both together to conjure the Spirit with a prayer; and afterwardes, -they heard no more knocking._ - -The First Novell. - -_Reprehending the simplicity of some sottish Husbands: And discovering -the wanton subtilties of some women, to compasse their unlawfull -desires._ - - -My Gracious Lord (quoth Madame _Æmillia_) it had bene a matter highly -pleasing to mee, that any other (rather than my selfe) should have -begun to speake of this argument, which it hath pleased you to apoint. -But seeing it is your Highnesse pleasure, that I must make a passage of -assurance for all the rest; I will not be irregular, because obedience -is our cheefe Article. I shall therefore (Gracious Ladies) strive, -to speake something, which may bee advantageable to you heereafter, -in regard, that if other women bee as fearfull as we, especially of -Spirits, of which all our sexe have generally bin timorous (although, -upon my credite, I know not what they are, nor ever could meete with -any, to tell me what they be) you may by the diligent observation of -my Novell: learne a wholesome and holy prayer, very availeable, and of -precious power, to conjure and drive them away, whensoever they shall -presume to assault you in any place. - -There dwelt sometime in _Florence_, and in the street of Saint -_Brancazio_, a woollen Weaver, named _John_ of _Lorrayne_; a man -more happy in his Art, then wise in any thing else beside: because, -favouring somewhat of the _Gregorie_, and (in very deede) little lesse -then an Ideot; Hee was many times made Captain of the Woollen-Weavers, -in the quarters belonging to _Santa Maria Novella_, and his house was -the Schoole or receptacle, for all their meetings and assemblies. He -had divers other petty Offices beside, by the dignity and authority -whereof, hee supposed himselfe much exalted or elevated, above the -common pitch of other men. And this humour became the more tractable -to him, because he addicted himselfe oftentimes (as being a man of an -easie inclination) to be a benefactor to the holy Fathers of _Santa -Maria Novella_, giving (beside his other charitable Almes) to someone -a paire of Breeches, to another a Hood, and to another a whole habit. -In reward whereof, they taught him (by heart) many wholesome prayers, as -the _Pater noster_ in the vulgar tongue; the Song of Saint _Alexis_; -the Lamentations of Saint _Bernard_, the Hymne of Madame _Matilda_, -and many other such like matters, which he kept charily, and repeated -usually, as tending to the salvation of his soule. - -This man, had a very faire and lovely wife, named _Monna Tessa_, the -daughter of _Manuccio della Cuculia_, wise and well advised; who -knowing the simplicity of her Husband, and affecting _Frederigo di -Neri Pegolotti_, who was a comely yong Gentleman, fresh, and in the -floure of his time, even as she was, therefore they agreed the better -together. By meanes of her Chamber-maid, _Frederigo_ and shee met often -together, at a Countrie Farme of _John_ of _Lorraynes_, which hee had -neere to _Florence_, and where she used to lodge all the Summer time, -called _Camerata_, whether _John_ resorted somtimes to Supper, and -lodge for a night, returning home againe to his City house the next -morning; yet often he would stay there longer with his owne companions. - -_Frederigo_, who was no meane man in his Mistresses favor, and -therefore these private meetings the more welcome to him; received a -summons or assignation from her, to be there on such a night, when hir -husband had no intent of comming thither. There they supped merrily -together, and (no doubt) did other things, nothing appertaining to -our purpose, she both acquainting, and well instructing him, in a -dozen (at the least) of her Husbands devout prayers. Nor did shee -make any account, or _Frederigo_ either, that this should be the last -time of their meeting, because (indeede) it was not the first: and -therefore they set down an order and conclusion together (because the -Chambermaide must be no longer the messenger) in such manner as you -shall heare. - -_Frederigo_ was to observe especially, that alwayes when hee went -or came from his owne house, which stood much higher then _John_ of -_Lorraynes_ did, to looke upon a Vine, closely adjoyning to her house, -where stood the scull of an Asses head, advanced upon an high pole; & -when the face thereof looked towards _Florence_, he might safely come, -it being an assured signe, that _John_ kept at home. And if he found -the doore fast shut, he should softly knocke three severall times, and -thereon bee admitted entrance. But if the face stood towards _Fiesola_; -then he might not come, for it was the signe of _Johns_ being there, -and then there might be no medling at all. - -Having thus agreed upon this conclusion, and had many merry meetings -together: one night above the rest, where _Frederigo_ was appointed to -suppe with _Monna Tessa_, who had made ready two fat Capons, drest in -most dainty and delicate manner: it fell out so unfortunately, that -_John_ (whose Kue was not to come that night) came thither -very late, yet before _Frederigo_, wherewith she being not a little -offended, gave _John_ a slight supper, of Lard, Bacon, and such like -coarse provision, because the other was kept for a better guest. In -the meane time, and while _John_ was at supper, the Maide (by her -Mistresses direction) had conveighed the two Capons, with boyled Egges, -Bread and a Bottle of Wine (all folded up in a faire cleane table -cloth) into her Garden, that had a passage to it, without entering into -the house, and where shee had divers times supt with _Frederigo_. She -further willed the Maide, to set all those things under a Peach-tree, -which adjoyned to the fields side: but, so angry she was at her -husbands unexpected comming, that shee forgot to bid her tarrie there, -till _Frederigoes_ comming; and to tell him of _Johns_ being there: as -also, to take what he found prepared readie for his Supper. - -_John_ and she being gone to bed together, and the Maide likewise, it -was not long after, before _Frederigo_ came, and knocking once softly -at the doore, which was very neere to their lodging Chamber, _John_ -heard the noise, and so did his wife. But to the end, that _John_ -might not have the least scruple of suspition, she seemed to be fast -asleepe; and _Frederigo_ pausing a while, according to the order -directed, knockt againe the second time. _John_ wondering thereat very -much, jogd his wife a little, and saide to her: _Tessa_, hearest thou -nothing? Me thinkes one knocketh at our doore. _Monna Tessa_, who was -better acquainted with the knocke, then plaine honest meaning _John_ -was, dissembling as if shee awaked out of a drowsie dreame, saide: -Alas Husband, dost thou know what this is? In the name of our blessed -Ladie, be not affraid, this is but the Spirit which haunts our Countrey -houses, whereof I have often told thee, and it hath many times much -dismayed me, living heere alone without thy comfort. Nay, such hath bin -my feare, that in divers nights past, so soone as I heard the knockes: -I was feigne to hide my selfe in the bedde over-head and eares (as we -usually say) never daring to be so bold, as to looke out, untill it -was broad open day. Arise good wife (quoth _John_) and if it be such -a Spirit of the Countrey, as thou talkest of, never be affraid; for -before we went to bed, I said the _Telucis_, the _Intemerata_, with -many other good prayers beside. Moreover, I made the signe of the -Crosse at every corner of our bed, in the name of the Father, Son, and -holy Ghost, so that no doubt at all needs to be made, of any power it -can have to hurt or touch us. - -_Monna Tessa_, because (perhaps) _Frederigo_ might receive some other -suspition, and so enter into distaste of her by anger or offence: -determined to arise indeede, and to let him covertly understand, that -_John_ was there, and therefore saide to her husband. Beleeve me -_John_, thy counsell is good, and every one of thy words hath wisedome -in it: but I hold it best for our owne safety, thou being heere; that -wee should conjure him quite away, to the end he may never more haunt -our house. Conjure him Wife? Quoth _John_, By what meanes? and how? -Bee patient good man (quoth _Tessa_) and I will enstruct thee. I have -learned an excellent kinde of conjuration; for, the last weeke, when -I went to procure the pardons at _Fiesola_, one of the holy recluse -Nuns, who (indeede _John_) is my indeered Sister and Friend, and the -most sanctimonius in life of them all; perceiving me to be troubled -and terrified by Spirits; taught me a wholesome and holy prayer, and -protested withall, that shee had often made experiment thereof, before -she became a Recluse, & found it (alwayes) a present helpe to her. -Yet never durst I adventure to essay it, living heere by my selfe all -alone: but honest _John_, seeing thou art heere with me, we will go -both together, and conjure this Spirit. _John_ replyed, that he was -very willing; and being both up, they went fayre and softly to the -doore, where _Frederigo_ stoode still without, and was growne somewhat -suspitious of his long attendance. - -When they were come to the doore, _Monna Tessa_ said to _John_: Thou -must cough and spet, at such time as I shall bid thee. Well (quoth -_John_) I will not faile you. Immediately she beganne her prayer in -this manner. - - _Spirit, that walkst thus in the night, - Poore Countrey people to affright: - Thou hast mistane thy marke and ayme, - The head stood right, but_ John _home came, - And therefore thou must packe away, - For I have nothing else to say: - But to my Garden get the gone, - Under the Peach-tree stands alone, - There shalt thou finde two Capons drest, - And Egges laide in mine owne Hennes nest, - Bread, and a Bottle of good wine, - All wrapt up in a cloath most fine. - Is not this good Goblins fare? - Packe and say you have your share; - Not doing harme to_ John _or me, - Who this night keepes me companie._ - -No sooner had she ended her devoute conjuring prayer, but she saide -to her husband: Now _John_, cough and spet: which _John_ accordingly -did. And _Frederigo_, being all this while without, hearing her witty -conjuration of a Spirit, which he himselfe was supposed to be, being -ridde of his former jealous suspition: in the middst of all his -melancholy, could very hardly refraine from laughing, the jest appeared -so pleasing to him: But when _John_ cought and spet, softly he said to -himselfe: When next thou spetst, spet out all thy teeth. - -The woman having three severall times conjured the Spirite, in such -manner you have already heard; returned to bed againe with her -husband: and _Frederigo_, who came as perswaded to sup with her, being -supperlesse all this while; directed by the words of _Monna Tessa_ in -hir praier, went into the Garden. At the foot of the Peach-tree, there -he found the linnen cloth, with the two hot Capons, Bread, Egges, and a -Bottle of Wine in it, all which he carried away with him, and went to -Supper at better leysure. Oftentimes afterward, upon other meetings of -_Frederigo_ and she together, they laughed heartily at her enchantment, -and the honest beleefe of silly _John_. - -I cannot deny, but that some do affirme, that the Woman had turned -the face of the Asses head towards _Fiesola_, and a Country Travailer -passing by the Vine, having a long piked staffe on his necke; the -staffe, (by chance) touched the head, and made it turne divers -times about, & in the end faced _Florence_, which being the cal for -_Frederigoes_ comming, by this meanes he was disappointed. In like -manner some say, that _Monna Tessaes_ prayer for conjuring the Spirit, -was in this order. - - _Spirit, Spirit, go thy way, - And come againe some other day, - It was not I that turnd the head, - But some other. In our Bed - Are John and I: Go from our dore, - And see thou trouble us no more._ - -So that _Frederigo_ departed thence, both with the losse of his labour -& supper. But a neighbour of mine, who is a woman of good yeares, told -me, that both the one and other were true, as she her selfe heard, when -she was a little Girle. And concerning the latter accident, it was -not to _John_ of _Lorrayne_, but to another, named _John de Nello_, -that dwelt at S. _Peters_ Gate, and of the same profession as _John_ -of _Lorrayne_ was. Wherefore (faire Ladies) it remaineth in your owne -choice, to entertain which of the two prayers you please, or both -together if you will: for they are of extraordinary vertue in such -strange occurrences, as you have heeretofore heard, and (upon doubt) -may prove by experience. It shall not therefore be amisse for you, to -learne them both by hart, for (peradventure) they may stand you in good -sted, if ever you chance to have the like occasion. - - - - -Peronella _hid a yong man her friend and Lover, under a great brewing -Fat, upon the sodaine returning home of her Husband; who told her, that -hee had solde the saide Fat, and brought him that bought it, to carry -it away._ Peronella _replyed, that shee had formerly solde it unto -another, who was nowe underneath it, to see whether it were whole and -sound, or no. Whereupon, he being come forth from under it; she caused -her Husband to make it neate and cleane, and so the last buyer carried -it away._ - -The Second Novell. - -_Wherein is declared, what hard and narrow shifts and distresses, such -as bee seriously linked in Love, are many times enforced to undergo: -According as their owne wit, and capacitie of their surprizers, drive -them to in extremities._ - - -Not without much laughter and good liking, was the Tale of Madame -_Æmillia_ listened unto, and both the prayers commended to be sound and -soveraigne: but it being ended, the King commaunded _Philostratus_, -that hee should follow next in order, whereupon thus he began. - -Deare Ladies, the deceites used by men towards your sexe, but -especially Husbands, have bene so great and many, as when it hath -sometime happened, or yet may, that husbands are requited in the -self-same kinde: you need not finde fault at any such accident, either -by knowledge thereof afterward, or hearing the same reported by any -one; but rather you should referre it to generall publication, to -the end, that immodest men may know, and finde it for trueth, that -if they have apprehension and capacity; women are therein not a jote -inferiour to them. Which cannot but redound to your great benefite, -because, when any one knoweth, that another is as cunning and subtile -as himselfe; he will not be so rashly adventurous in deceite. And who -maketh any doubt, that if those sleights and trickes, whereof this -dayes argument may give us occasion to speake, should afterwardes -be put in execution by men: would it not minister just reason, of -punishing themselves for beguiling you, knowing, that (if you please) -you have the like abilitie in your owne power? Mine intent therefore -is to tell you, what a woman (though but of meane quality) did to her -husband, upon a sodaine, and in a moment (as it were) for her owne -safety. - -Not long since, there lived in _Naples_, an honest meane man, who did -take to Wife, a fayre and lustie young Woman, being named _Peronella_. -He professing the Trade of a Mason, and shee Carding and Spinning, -maintained themselves in a reasonable condition, abating and abounding -as their Fortunes served. It came to passe, that a certayne young -man, well observing the beauty and good parts of _Peronella_, became -much addicted in affection towardes her: and by his often and secret -sollicitations, which he found not to be unkindly entertayned; his -successe proved answerable to his hope, no unindifferencie appearing in -their purposes, but where her estate seemed weakest, his supplies made -an addition of more strength. - -Now, for their securer meeting, to stand cleare from all matter of -scandal or detection, they concluded in this order between themselves. -_Lazaro_, for so was _Peronellaes_ Husband named, being an earely -riser every morning, either to seeke for worke, or to effect it being -undertaken: this amorous friend being therewith acquainted, and -standing in some such convenient place, where hee could see _Lazaroes_ -departure from his house, and yet himselfe no way discerned; poore -_Lazaro_ was no sooner gone, but presently he enters the house, which -stood in a verie solitarie street, called the _Avorio_. Many mornings -had they thus met together, to their no meane delight and contentation, -till one especiall morning among the rest, when _Lazaro_ was gone -forth to worke, and _Striguario_ (so was the amorous young man named) -visiting _Peronella_ in the house: upon a very urgent occasion, -_Lazaro_ returned backe againe, quite contrary to his former wont, -keeping foorth all day, and never comming home till night. - -Finding his doore to be fast lockt, and he having knockt softlie once -or twice, he spake in this manner to himselfe. Fortune I thanke thee, -for albeit thou hast made mee poore, yet thou hast bestowed a better -blessing on me, in matching me with so good, honest, & loving a Wife. -Behold, though I went early out of my house, her selfe hath risen in -the cold to shut the doore, to prevent the entrance of theeves, or -any other that might offend us. _Peronella_ having heard what her -husband sayde, and knowing the manner of his knocke, said fearfully to -_Striguario_. Alas deare friend, what shall wee doe? I am little lesse -then a dead Woman: For, _Lazaro_ my Husband is come backe again, and -I know not what to do or say. He never returned in this order before -now, doubtlesse, hee saw when you entred the doore; and for the safety -of your honour and mine: creepe under this brewing Fat, till I have -opened the doore, to know the reason of his so soone returning. - -_Striguario_ made no delaying of the matter, but got himselfe closelie -under the Fat, and Peronella opening the doore for her husbands -enterance, with a frowning countenance, spake thus unto him. What -meaneth this so early returning home againe this morning? It seemeth, -thou intendest to do nothing to day, having brought backe thy tooles in -thy hands. If such be thine intent, how shall we live? Where shall we -have bread to fill our bellies? Dooest thou thinke, that I will suffer -thee to pawne my gowne, and other poore garments, as heeretofore thou -hast done? I that card and spinne both night and day, till I have worne -the flesh from my fingers; yet all will hardly finde oyle to maintaine -our Lampe. Husband, husband, there is not one neighbour dwelling by us, -but makes a mockerie of me, and tels me plainly, that I may be ashamed -to drudge and moyle as I do; wondering not a little, how I am able to -endure it; and thou returnest home with thy hands in thy hose, as if -thou hadst no worke at all to do this day. - -Having thus spoken, she fell to weeping, and then thus began again. -Poore wretched woman as I am, in an unfortunate houre was I borne, and -in a much worse, when I was made thy Wife. I could have had a proper, -handsome yong man; one, that would have maintained mee brave and -gallantly: but, beast as I was, to forgoe my good, and cast my selfe -away on such a beggar as thou art, and whom none wold have had, but -such an Asse as I. Other women live at hearts ease, and in jollity, -have their amorous friends and loving Paramours, yea, one, two, three -at once, making their husbands looke like a Moone cressent, whereon -they shine Sun-like, with amiable lookes, because they know not how to -helpe it: when I (poore foole) live heere at home a miserable life, not -daring once to dreame of such follies, an innocent soule, heartlesse -and harmelesse. - -Many times, sitting and sighing to my selfe: Lord, thinke I, of what -mettall am I made? Why should not I have a Friend in a corner, as -well as others have? I am flesh and blood, as they are, not made of -brasse or iron, and therefore subject to womens frailty. I would thou -shouldest know it husband, and I tell it thee in good earnest; That if -I would doe ill, I could quickely finde a friend at a neede. Gallants -there are good store, who (of my knowledge) love me dearely, and have -made me very large and liberall promises, of Golde, Silver, Jewels, and -gay Garments, if I would extend them the least favour. But my heart -will not suffer me, I never was the daughter of such a mother, as had -so much as a thought of such matters: no, I thanke our blessed Ladie, -and S. _Friswid_ for it: and yet thou returnest home againe, when thou -shouldst be at Worke. - -_Lazaro_, who stoode all this while like a well-beleeving Logger-head, -demurely thus answered. Alas good Wife! I pray you bee not so angry, I -never had so much as an ill thought of you, but know wel enough what -you are, and have made good proofe thereof this morning. Understand -therefore patiently (sweet Wife) that I went forth to my work as -dayly I use to do, little dreaming (as I thinke you doe not) that it -had bene Holy-day. Wife, this is the Feast day of Saint _Galeone_; -whereon we may in no wise worke, and this is the reason of my so soone -returning. Neverthelesse (deare Wife) I was not carelesse of our -Houshold provision: For, though we worke not, yet we must have foode, -which I have provided for more then a moneth. Wife, I remembred the -brewing Fat, whereof wee have little or no use at all, but rather it is -a trouble to the house, then otherwise. I met with an honest Friend, -who stayeth without at the doore, to him I have sold the Fat for ten -_Gigliatoes_, and he tarrieth to take it away with him. - -How Husband? replied _Peronella_, Why now I am worse offended then -before. Thou that art a man, walkest every where, and shouldst be -experienced in worldly affaires: wouldst thou bee so simple, as to -sell such a brewing Fat for ten _Gigliatoes_? Why, I that am a poore -ignorant woman, a house-Dove, sildome going out of my doore: have sold -it already for twelve _Gigliatoes_, to a very honest man, who (even a -little before thy comming home) came to me, we agreed on the bargaine, -and he is now underneath the Fat, to see whether it be sound or no. -When credulous _Lazaro_ heard this, he was better contented then ever, -and went to him that taried at the doore, saying. Good man, you may goe -your way, for, whereas you offered me but ten _Gigliatoes_ for the Fat, -my loving wife hath sold it for twelve, and I must maintaine what shee -hath done: so the man departed, and the variance ended. - -_Peronella_ then saide to her husband. Seeing thou art come home so -luckily, helpe me to lift up the Fat, that the man may come foorth, and -then you two end the bargaine together. _Striguario_, who though he was -mewed up under the tubbe, had his eares open enough; and hearing the -witty excuse of _Peronella_, tooke himselfe free from future feare: -and being come from under the Fat, pretending also, as if he had herd -nothing, nor saw _Lazaro_, looking round about him, said. Where is this -good woman? _Lazaro_ stepping forth boldly like a man, replyed: Heere -am I, what wold you have Sir? Thou? quoth _Striguario_, what art thou? -I ask for the good wife, with whom I made my match for the Fat. Honest -Gentleman (answered _Lazaro_) I am that honest Womans Husband, for -lacke of a better, and I will maintaine whatsoever my Wife hath done. - -I crie you mercie Sir, replyed _Striguario_, I bargained with your Wife -for this brewing Fat, which I finde to be whole and sound: only it is -uncleane within, hard crusted with some dry soile upon it, which I know -not well how to get off, if you will be the meanes of making it cleane, -I have the money heere ready for it. For that Sir (quoth _Peronella_) -take you no care, although no match at all had beene made, what serves -my Husband for, but to make it cleane? Yes forsooth Sir, answered sily -_Lazaro_, you shall have it neate and cleane before you pay the mony. - -So, stripping himselfe into his shirt, lighting a Candle, and taking -tooles fit for the purpose; the Fat was whelmed over him, and he being -within it, wrought untill he sweated, with scraping and scrubbing. So -that these poore Lovers, what they could not accomplish as they wold, -necessity enforced them to performe as they might. And _Peronella_, -looking in at the vent-hole, where the Liquor runneth forth for the -meshing; seemed to instruct her husband in the businesse, as espying -those parts where the Fat was fowlest, saying: There, there _Lazaro_, -tickle it there, the Gentleman payes well for it, and is worthy to have -it: but see thou do thy selfe no harme good Husband. I warrant thee -Wife, answered _Lazaro_, hurt not your selfe with leaning your stomacke -on the Fat, and leave the cleansing of it to me. To be breefe, the -Brewing Fat was neatly cleansed, _Peronella_ and _Striguario_ both well -pleased, the money paide, and honest meaning _Lazaro_ not discontented. - - - - -_Friar_ Reynard, _falling in love with a Gentlewoman, Wife to a man -of good account; found the meanes to become her Gossip. Afterward, -he being conferring closely with her in her Chamber, and her Husband -coming sodainly thither: she made him beleeve, that he came thither for -no other end; but to cure his God-sonne by a charme, of a dangerous -disease which he had by Wormes._ - -The Third Novell. - -_Serving as a friendly advertisement to married women, that Monks, -Friars, and Priests may be none of their Gossips, in regard of -unavoydable perilles ensuing thereby._ - -_Philostratus_ told not this Tale so covertly, concerning _Lazaros_ -simplicity, and _Peronellaes_ witty policy; but the Ladies found a -knot in the rush, and laughed not a little, at his queint manner of -discoursing it. But upon the conclusion, the King looking upon Madam -_Eliza_, willed her to succeede next, which as willingly she granted, -and thus began. Pleasant Ladies, the charme or conjuration wherewith -Madam _Æmillia_ laid her night-walking Spirit, maketh me remember -a Novell of another enchantment; which although it carrieth not -commendation equall to the other, yet I intend to report it, because it -suteth with our present purpose, and I cannot sodainly be furnisht with -another, answerable thereto in nature. - -You are to understand then, that there lived in _Siena_, a proper yong -man, of good birth and well friended, being named _Reynard_. Earnestly -he affected his neere dwelling neighbour, a beautifull Gentlewoman, -and wife to a man of good esteeme: of whom hee grew halfe perswaded, -that if he could (without suspition) compasse private conference with -her, he should reach the height of his amorous desires. Yet seeing no -likely meanes wherewith to further his hope, and shee being great with -childe, he resolved to become a Godfather to the childe, at such time -as it should be brought to Christening. And being inwardly acquainted -with her Husband, who was named _Credulano_; such familiar entercourses -passed betweene them, both of _Reynards_ kinde offer, and _Credulanoes_ -as courteous acceptance, that hee was set downe for a Gossippe. - -_Reynard_ being thus embraced for Madam _Agnesiaes_ Gossip, and this -proving the onely colourable meanes, for his safer permission of -speech with her, to let her now understand by word of mouth, what long -before she collected by his lookes and behaviour: it fell out no way -beneficiall to him, albeit _Agnesia_ seemed not nice or scrupulous -in hearing, yet she had a more precious care of her honor. It came -to passe, within a while after (whether by seeing his labour vainly -spent, or some other urgent occasion moving him thereto, I know not) -_Reynard_ would needs enter into Religion, and whatsoever strictnesse -or austeritie hee found to be in that kinde of life, yet he determined -to persevere therein, whether it were for his good or ill. And although -within a short space, after he was thus become a Religious Monke, hee -seemed to forget the former love which he bare to his gossip _Agnesia_, -and divers other enormous vanities beside: yet let me tell you, -successe of time tutord him in them againe; and, without any respect -to his poore holy habite, but rather in contempt thereof (as it were) -he tooke an especiall delight, in wearing garments of much richer -esteeme, yet favoured by the same Monasticall profession, appearing -(in all respects) like a Court-Minion or Favourite, of a sprightly and -Poeticall disposition, for composing Verses, Sonnets, and Canzons, -singing them to sundry excellent instruments, and yet not greatly -curious of his company, so they were some of the best, and Madame -_Agnesia_ one, his former Gossip. - -But why doe I trouble my selfe, in talking thus of our so lately -converted Friar, holy Father _Reynard_, when they of longer standing, -and reputed meerely for Saints in life, are rather much more vile -then hee? Such is the wretched condition of this world, that they -shame not (fat, soggie, and nastie Abbey-lubbers) to shew how full -fedde they live in their Cloysters, with cherry cheekes, and smooth -shining lookes, gay and gaudy garments, far from the least expression -of humility, not walking in the streets like Doves: but high-crested -like Cockes, with well cramd gorges. Nay, which is worse, if you did -but see their Chambers furnished with Gally-pots of Electuaries, -precious Unguents, Apothecary Boxes, filled with various Confections, -Conserves, excellent Perfumes, and other goodly Glasses of artificiall -Oyles and Waters: beside Rundlets and small Barrels full of Greeke -Wine, _Muscatella, Lachrime Christi,_ and other such like most precious -Wines, so that (to such as see them) they seeme not to bee Chambers -of Religious men; but rather Apothecaries Shoppes, or appertaining to -Druggists, Grocers, or Perfumers. - -It is no disgrace to them to be Gowty; because when other men -know it not, they alledge, that strict fasting, feeding on grosse -meates (though never so little,) continuall studying, and such like -restraints from the bodies freer exercise, maketh them subject to -many infirmities. And yet, when any one of them chanceth to fall -sicke, the Physitian must minister no such counsell to them, as -Chastity, Abstinence from voluptuous meats, Discipline of the body, -or any of those matters appertaining to a modest religious life. -For, concerning the plaine, vulgar, and Plebeian people, these holy -Fathers are perswaded, that they know nothing really belonging to a -sanctimonious life; as long watching, praying, discipline and fasting, -which (in themselves) are not able, to make men look leane, wretched, -and pale. Because Saint _Dominicke_, Saint _Fraunces_, and divers -other holy Saints beside, observed the selfesame religious orders -and constitutions, as now their carefull successors do. Moreover, in -example of those fore-named Saints, who went wel cloathed, though -they had not three Garments for one, nor made of the finest Woollen -excellent cloath: but rather of the very coarsest of all other, and of -the common ordinary colour, to expell cold onely, but not to appear -brave or gallant, deceyving thereby infinite simple credulous soules, -whose purses (neverthelesse) are their best pay-masters. - -But leave we this, and returne wee backe to vertuous Fryar _Reynard_, -who falling againe to his former appetites; became an often visitant -of his Gossip _Agnesia_, and now hee had learned such a blushlesse -kinde of boldnesse; that he durst be more instant with her (concerning -his privie sute) then ever formerly he had bin, yea, even to solicite -the enjoying of his immodest desires. The good Gentlewoman, seeing -her selfe so importunately pursued, and Fryar _Reynard_ appearing -now (perhappes) of sweeter and more delicate complexion, then at his -entrance into Religion: at a set time of his secret communing with -her; she answered him in as apt tearmes, as they use to do, who are not -greatly squeamish, in granting matters demanded of them. - -Why how now Friar _Reynard_? quoth shee, Doe God-fathers use to move -such questions? Whereto the Friar thus replyed. Madam, when I have -laide off this holy habite (which is a matter very easie for mee to -do) I shall seeme in your eye, in all respects made like another man, -quite from the course of any Religious life. _Agnesia_, biting the lip -with a prety smile, said, O my faire Starres! You will never bee so -unfriendly to me. What? You being my Gossip, would you have me consent -unto such a sinne? Our blessed Lady shield mee, for my ghostly Father -hath often told me, that it is utterly unpardonable: but if it were, -I feare too much confiding on mine owne strength. Gossip, Gossip, -answered the Friar, you speake like a Foole, and feare (in this case) -is wholly frivolous, especially, when the motions mooved by such an one -as my selfe, who (upon repentance) can grant you pardon and indulgence -presently. But I pray you let mee aske you one question, Who is the -neerest Kinsman to your Son; either I, that stood at the Font for his -Baptisme, or your Husband that begot him? The Lady made answere, that -it was her Husband. You say very true Gossip, replyed the Friar, and -yet notwithstanding, doth not your Husband (both at boord and bed) -enjoy the sweet benefit of your company? Yes, said the Lady, why shold -he not? Then Lady (quoth _Reynard_) I, who am not so neere a Kinsman -to your Sonne, as your Husband is, why may ye not afford mee the like -favour, as you do him? _Agnesia_, who was no Logitian, and therefore -could not stand on any curious answer, especially being so cuningly -moved; beleeved, or rather made shew of beleeving, that the Godfather -said nothing but truth, and thus answered. What woman is she (Gossip) -that knoweth how to answer your strange speeches? And, how it came to -passe, I know not, but such an agreement passed betweene them, that, -for once onely (so it might not infrindge the league of Gossip-ship, -but that title to countenance their further intent) such a favour -should be affoorded, so it might stand cleare from suspition. - -An especiall time being appointed, when this amorous Combate should be -fought in loves field, Friar _Reynard_ came to his Gossips house, where -none being present to hinder his purpose, but onely the Nursse which -attended on the child, who was an indifferent faire & proper woman: -his holy brother that came thither in his company (because Friars were -not allowed to walke alone) was sent aside with her into the Pigeon -loft, to enstruct her in a new kinde of _Pater noster_, lately devised -in their holy Convent. In the meane while, as Friar _Reynard_ and -_Agnesia_ were entring into hir chamber, she leading her little son by -the hand, and making fast the doore for their better safety: the Friar -laide by his holie habit, Cowle, Hood, Booke, and Beads, to bee (in -all respects) as other men were. No sooner were they thus entred the -Chamber, but her husband _Credulano_, being come into the house, and -unseen of any, staid not till he was at the Chamber doore, where hee -knockt, and called for his Wife. - -She hearing his voice: Alas Gossip (quoth she) what shall I do? My -Husband knocketh at the doore, and now he will perceive the occasion -of our so familiar acquaintance. _Reynard_ being stript into his -Trusse and straite Strouses, began to tremble and quake exceedingly. -I heare your Husbands tongue Gossip, said he, and seeing no harme as -yet hath bin done, if I had but my garments on againe; wee would have -one excuse or other to serve the turne, but till then you may not -open the doore. As womens wits are sildome gadding abroad, when any -necessitie concerneth them at home: even so _Agnesia_, being sodainly -provided of an invention, both how to speake and carry her selfe in -this extreamitie, saide to the Friar. Get on your garments quickely, -and when you are cloathed, take your little God-son in your armes, -and listning wel what I shall say, shape your answeres according to -my words, and then refer the matter to me. _Credulano_ had scarsely -ended his knocking, but _Agnesia_ stepping to the doore said: Husband, -I come to you. So she opened the doore, and (going forth to him) with -a chearefull countenance thus spake. Beleeve me Husband, you could not -have come in a more happy time, for our yong Son was sodainly extreamly -sicke, and (as good Fortune would have it) our loving Gossip _Reynard_ -chanced to come in; and questionlesse, but by his good prayers and -other religious paynes, we had utterly lost our childe, for he had no -life left in him. - -_Credulano_, being as credulous as his name imported, seemed ready -to swoune with sodaine conceit: Alas good wife (quoth he) how hapned -this? Sit downe sweet Husband said she, and I will tell you al. Our -child was sodainly taken with a swouning, wherein I being unskilful, -did verily suppose him to be dead, not knowing what to doe, or say. -By good hap, our Gossip _Reynard_ came in, and taking the childe up -in his armes, said to me. Gossip, this is nothing else but Wormes in -the bellie of the childe, which ascending to the heart, must needs -kill the child, without all question to the contrary. But be of good -comfort Gossip, and feare not, for I can charme them in such sort, that -they shall all die, and before I depart hence, you shall see your Son -as healthfull as ever. And because the manner of this charm is of such -nature, that it required prayer and exorcising in two places at once: -Nurse went up with his Holye Brother into our Pigeon loft, to exercise -their devotion there, while we did the like heere. For none but the -mother of the childe must bee present at such a mystery, nor any enter -to hinder the operation of the charme; which was the reason of making -fast the Chamber doore. You shall see Husband anon the Childe, which is -indifferently recovered in his armes, and if Nurse and his holy Brother -were returned from theyr meditations; he saith, that the charme would -then be fully effected: for the child beginneth to looke chearefull and -merry. - -So deerely did _Credulano_ love the childe, that hee verily beleeved, -what his Wife had saide, never misdoubting any other treachery: and, -lifting up his eyes, with a vehement sigh, said. Wife, may not I goe in -and take the child into my armes? Oh no, not yet good husband (quoth -she) in any case, least you should overthrow all that is done. Stay but -a little while, I will go in againe, and if all bee well, then will I -call you. In went _Agnesia_ againe, making the doore fast after her, -the Fryar having heard all the passed speeches, by this time he was -fitted with his habite, and taking the childe in his armes, he said to -_Agnesia_. Gossip methought I heard your Husbands voice, is hee at your -Chamber doore? Yes Gossip _Reynard_ (quoth _Credulano_ without, while -_Agnesia_ opened the doore, and admitted him entrance) indeede it is -I. Come in Sir, I pray you, replyed the Friar, and heere receive your -childe of mee, who was in great danger, of your ever seeing him any -more alive. But you must take order, to make an Image of waxe, agreeing -with the stature of the childe, to be placed on the Altar before the -Image of S. _Frances_, by whose merites the childe is thus restored to -health. - -The childe, beholding his Father, made signes of comming to him, -rejoycing merrily, as yong infants use to do; and _Credulano_ clasping -him in his armes, wept with conceite of joy, kissing him infinitely, -and heartily thanking his Gossip _Reynard_, for the recovery of his -God-son. The Friars brotherly Companion, who had given sufficient -enstructions to the Nurse, and a small purse full of Sisters white -thred, which a Nunne (after shrift) had bestowed on him, upon the -husbands admittance into the Chamber (which they easily heard) came in -also to them, and seeing all in very good tearmes, they holpe to make -a joyfull conclusion, the Brother saying to Friar Reynard: Brother, I -have finished all those foure Jaculatory prayers, which you commanded -me. - -Brother, answered _Reynard_, you have a better breath then I, and your -successe hath prooved happier then mine, for before the arrivall of -my Gossip _Credulano_, I could accomplish but two Jaculatory prayers -onely. But it appeareth, that we have both prevailed in our devout -desires, because the childe is perfectly cured. _Credulano_ calling for -Wine and good cheare, feasted both the Friars very jocondly, and then -conducting them forth of his house, without any further intermission, -caused the childs Image of waxe to be made, and sent it to be placed on -the Altar of Saint _Frances_, among many other the like oblations. - - - - -Tofano _in the night season, did locke his wife out of his house, and -shee not prevailing to get entrance againe, by all the entreaties she -could possiblie use: made him beleeve that she had throwne her selfe -into a Well, by casting a great stone into the same Well_. Tofano -_hearing the fall of the stone into the Well, and being perswaded that -it was his Wife indeed; came forth of his house, and ran to the Welles -side. In the meane while, his wife gotte into the house, made fast the -doore against her Husband, and gave him many reproachfull speeches._ - -The Fourth Novell. - -_Wherein is manifested, that the malice and subtilty of a Woman, -surpasseth all the Art or Wit in man._ - - -So soone as the King perceyved, that the Novell reported by Madame -_Eliza_ was finished: hee turned himselfe to Madame _Lauretta_, and -told her it was his pleasure, that she should now begin the next, -whereto she yeelded in this manner. O Love: What, and how many are thy -prevailing forces? How straunge are thy foresights? And how admirable -thine attempts? Where is, or ever was the Philosopher or Artist, that -could enstruct the wiles, escapes, preventions, and demonstrations, -which sodainly thou teachest such, as are thy apt and understanding -Schollers indeede? Certaine it is, that the documents and eruditions of -all other whatsoever, are weak, or of no worth, in respect of thine: as -hath notably appeared, by the remonstrances already past, and whereto -(worthy Ladies) I will adde another of a simple woman, who taught her -husband such a lesson, as shee never learned of any, but Love himselfe. - -There dwelt sometime in _Arezzo_ (which is a faire Village of -_Tuscany_) a rich man, named _Tofano_, who enjoyed in marriage a young -beautifull woman, called _Cheta_: of whom (without any occasion given, -or reason knowne to himselfe) he became exceeding jealous. Which his -wife perceyving, she grew much offended thereat, and tooke it in great -scorne, that she should be servile to so vile and slavish a condition. -Oftentimes, she demanded of him, from whence this jealousie in him -received originall, he having never seene or heard of any; he could -make her no other answer, but what his owne bad humour suggested, and -drove him every day (almost) to deaths doore, by feare of that which no -way needed. But, whether as a just scourge for this his grosse folly, -or a secret decree, ordained to him by Fortune and the Fates, I am not -able to distinguish: It came so to passe, that a young Gallant made -meanes to enjoy her favour, and she was so discreetly wise in judging -of his worthinesse; that affection passed so farre mutually betweene -them, as nothing wanted, but effects to answere words, suited with time -and place convenient, for which order was taken as best they might, yet -to stand free from all suspition. - -Among many other evill conditions, very frequent and familiar in her -husband _Tofano_; he tooke a great delight in drinking, which not -only he held to be a commendable quality, but was alwaies so often -solicited thereto: that _Cheta_ her selfe began to like and allow it -in him, feeding his humour so effectually, with quaffing and carowsing, -that (at any time when she listed) she could make him bowsie beyonde -all measure: and leaving him sleeping in this drunkennesse, would -alwayes get her selfe to bed. By helpe heereof, she compassed the first -familiarity with her friend, yea, divers times after, as occasion -served: and so confidently did she builde on her husbands drunkennesse, -that not onely shee adventured to bring her friend home into her owne -house; but also would as often go to his, which was some-what neere at -hand, and abide with him there, the most part of the night season. - -While _Cheta_ thus continued on these amorous courses, it fortuned, -that her slye suspitious husband, beganne to perceive, that though shee -drunke very much with him, yea, untill he was quite spent and gone: -yet she remained fresh and sober still, and thereby imagined strange -matters, that he being fast asleepe, his wife then tooke advantage of -his drowsinesse, and might ---- and so forth. Beeing desirous to make -experience of this his distrust, hee returned home at night (not having -drunke any thing all the whole day) dissembling both by his words and -behaviour, as if he were notoriously drunke indeede. Which his Wife -constantly beleeving, saide to her selfe: That hee had now more neede -of sleepe, then drinke; getting him immediately into his warme bed; and -then going downe the staires againe, softly went out of doores unto her -Friends house, as formerly she had used to do, and there shee remained -untill midnight. - -_Tofano_ perceiving that his Wife came not to bed, and imagining to -have heard his doore both open and shut: arose out of his bed, and -calling his Wife _Cheta_ divers times, without any answere returned: -hee went downe the staires, and finding the doore but closed too, made -it fast and sure on the inside, and then got him up to the window, to -watch the returning home of his wife, from whence shee came, and then -to make her conditions apparantly knowne. So long there he stayed, -till at the last she returned indeede, and finding the doore so surely -shut, shee was exceeding sorrowfull, essaying how she might get it -open by strength: which when _Tofano_ had long suffered her in vaine -to approove, thus hee spake to her. _Cheta, Cheta,_ all thy labour is -meerely lost, because heere is no entrance allowed for thee; therefore -return to the place from whence thou camest, that all thy friends may -judge of thy behaviour, and know what a night-walker thou art become. - -The woman hearing this unpleasing language, began to use all humble -entreaties, desiring him (for charities sake) to open the doore and -admit her entrance, because she had not bin in any such place, as his -jelous suspition might suggest to him: but onely to visit a weak & -sickly neighbour, the nights being long, she not (as yet) capable of -sleepe, nor willing to sit alone in the house. But all her perswasions -served to no purpose, he was so setled in his owne opinion, that all -the Town should now see her nightly gading, which before was not -so much as suspected. _Cheta_ seeing, that faire meanes would not -prevaile, shee entred into roughe speeches and threatnings, saying: If -thou wilt not open the doore and let me come in, I will so shame thee, -as never base man was. As how I pray thee? answered _Tofano_, what -canst thou do to me? - -The woman, whom love had inspired with sprightly counsell, ingeniously -enstructing her what to do in this distresse, stearnly thus replyed. -Before I will suffer any such shame as thou intended towards mee, -I will drowne my selfe heere in this Well before our doore, where -being found dead, and thy villanous jealousie so apparantly knowne, -beside thy more then beastly drunkennesse: all the neighbours will -constantly beleeve, that thou didst first strangle me in the house, -and afterwardes threw me into this Well. So either thou must flie upon -the supposed offence, or lose all thy goodes by banishment, or (which -is much more fitting for thee) have thy head smitten off as a wilfull -murtherer of thy wife; for all will judge it to be no otherwise. -All which wordes, mooved not _Tofano_ a jot from his obstinat -determination: but he still persisting therein, thus she spake. I -neither can nor will longer endure this base Villanie of thine: to the -mercy of heaven I commit my soul, and stand there my wheele, a witnesse -against so hard-hearted a murtherer. - -No sooner had she thus spoke, but the night being so extreamly dark, -as they could not discerne one another; Cheta went to the Well, where -finding a verie great stone, which lay loose upon the brim of the Well, -even as if it had beene layde there on purpose, shee cried out aloud, -saying. Forgive me faire heavens, and so threw the stone downe into the -Well. The night being very still & silent, the fall of the great stone -made such a dreadfull noise in the Well; that he hearing it at the -Windowe, thought verily she had drowned her selfe indeede. Whereupon, -running downe hastily, and taking a Bucket fastened to a strong Cord: -he left the doore wide open, intending speedily to helpe her. But she -standing close at the doores entrance, before he could get to the Wels -side; she was within the house, softly made the doore fast on the -inside, and then went up to the Window, where _Tofano_ before had stood -talking to her. - -While he was thus dragging with his Bucket in the Well, crying and -calling _Cheta_, take hold good _Cheta_, and save thy life: she stood -laughing in the Window, saying. Water should bee put into Wine before a -man drinkes it, and not when he hath drunke too much already. _Tofano_ -hearing his Wife thus to flout him out of his Window, went back to the -doore, and finding it made fast against him: he willed hir to grant him -entrance. But she, forgetting all gentle Language, which formerly she -had used to him: in meere mockery and derision (yet intermixed with -some sighes and teares, which women are saide to have at command) out -aloud (because the Neighbours should heare her) thus she replyed. - -Beastly drunken Knave as thou art, this night thou shalt not come -within these doores, I am no longer able to endure thy base behaviour, -it is more then high time, that thy course of life should bee -publiquely known, and at what drunken houres thou returnest home to thy -house. _Tofano_, being a man of very impatient Nature, was as bitter -unto her in words on the other side, which the Neighbours about them -(both men and Women) hearing; looked forth of their Windowes, and -demaunding a reason for this their disquietnesse, _Cheta_ (seeming as -if she wept) sayde. - -Alas my good Neighbours, you see at what unfitting houres, this bad -man comes home to his house, after hee hath lyen in a Taverne all -day drunke, sleeping and snorting like a Swine. You are my honest -witnesses, how long I have suffered this beastlinesse in him, yet -neyther your good counsell, nor my too often loving admonitions, can -worke that good which wee have expected. Wherefore, to try if shame can -procure any amendment, I have shut him out of doores, until his drunken -fit be over-past, and so he shall stand to coole his feet. - -_Tofano_ (but in very uncivill manner) told her being abroad that night, -and how she had used him: But the Neighbours seeing her to be within -the house, and beleeving her, rather then him, in regard of his too -wellknowne ill qualities; very sharpely reproved him, gave him grosse -speeches, pittying that any honest Woman should be so continually -abused. Now my good Neighbours (quoth she) you see what manner of man -he is. What would you thinke of me, if I should walk the streets thus -in the night time, or be so late out of mine owne house, as this dayly -Drunkard is? I was affraid least you would have given credit to his -dissembling speeches, when he told you, that I was at the Welles side, -and threw something into the Well: but that I know your better opinion -of me, and how sildome I am to be seene out of doores, although he -would induce your sharper judgement of me, and lay that shame upon me, -wherein he hath sinned himselfe. - -The Neighbours, both men and Women, were all very severely incensed -against _Tofano_, condemning him for his great fault that night -committed, and avouching his wife to be vertuous and honest. Within a -little while, the noise passing from Neighbour to Neighbour, at the -length it came to the eares of her Kindred, who forthwith resorted -thither, and hearing how sharpely the Neighbours reprehended _Tofano_: -they tooke him, soundly bastanadoed him, and hardly left any bone -of him unbruised. Afterward, they went into the house, tooke all -such things thence as belonged to hir, taking hir also with them to -their dwelling, and threatning _Tofano_ with further infliction of -punishment, both for his drunkennesse, and causlesse jealousie. - -_Tofano_ perceyving how curstly they had handled him, and what crooked -meanes might further be used against him, in regard her Kindred & -Friends were very mightie: thought it much better, patiently to suffer -the wrong alreadie done him, then by obstinate contending, to proceed -further, and fare worse. He became a suter to her Kindred, that al -might be forgotten and forgiven, in recompence whereof; he would not -onely refraine from drunkennesse, but also, never more be jelous of -his wife. This being faithfully promised, and _Cheta_ reconciled to -her Husband, all strife was ended, she enjoyed her friends favour, as -occasion served, but yet with such discretion, as it was not noted. -Thus the Coxcombe foole, was faine to purchase his peace, after a -notorious wrong sustained, and further injuries to bee offered. - - - - -_A jealous man, clouded with the habite of a Priest, became the -Confessour to his owne Wife; who made him beleeve, that she was deepely -in love with a Priest, which came every night, and lay with her. By -meanes of which confession, while her jealous Husband watched the doore -of his house; to surprize the Priest when he came: she that never meant -to do amisse, had the company of a secret Friend, who came over the -toppe of the house to visite her, while her foolish Husband kept the -doore._ - -The fift Novell. - -_In just scorne and mockery of such jealous Husbands, that will be so -idle headed upon no occasion. And yet when they have good reason for -it, do least of all suspect any such injury._ - - -Madam _Lauretta_ having ended her Novell, and every one commended -the Woman, for fitting _Tofano_ in his kinde; and, as his jealousie -and drunkennesse justly deserved: the King (to prevent all losse of -time) turned to Madame _Fiammetta_, commaunding her to follow next: -whereuppon, very graciously, shee beganne in this manner. - -Noble Ladies, the precedent Novell delivered by Madame _Lauretta_, -maketh me willing to speake of another jealous man; as being halfe -perswaded, that whatsoever is done to them by their Wives, and -especially upon no occasion given, they doe no more then well becommeth -them. And if those grave heads, which were the first instituters of -lawes, had diligently observed all things; I am of the minde, that they -would have ordained no other penalty for Women, then they appointed -against such, as (in their owne defence) do offend any other. For -jealous husbands, are meere insidiators of their Wives lives, and most -diligent pursuers of their deaths, being lockt up in their houses all -the Weeke long, imployed in nothing but domesticke drudging affayres: -which makes them desirous of high Festivall dayes, to receive some -little comfort abroad, by an honest recreation or pastime, as Husbandmen -in the fields, Artizans in our Citie, or Governours in our judiciall -Courtes; yea, or as our Lord himselfe, who rested the seaventh day from -all his travailes. In like manner, it is so willed and ordained by the -Lawes, as well divine as humane, which have regard to the glory of God, -and for the common good of every one; making distinction betweene those -dayes appointed for labour, and the other determined for rest. Whereto -jealous persons (in no case) will give consent, but all those dayes -(which for other women are pleasing and delightfull) unto such, over -whom they command, are most irksome, sadde and sorrowfull, because then -they are lockt up, and very strictly restrained. And if question were -urged, how many good women do live and consume away in this torturing -hel of affliction: I can make no other answere, but such as feele it, -are best able to discover it. Wherefore to conclude the proheme to my -present purpose, let none be over rash in condemning women: for what -they do to their husbands, being jealous without occasion; but rather -commend their wit and providence. - -Somtime (faire Ladies) there lived in _Arimino_, a Merchant, very rich -in wealth and worldly possessions, who having a beautifull Gentlewoman -to his wife, he became extreamly jelous of her. And he had no other -reason for this foolish conceit; but, like as he loved hir dearly, -and found her to be very absolutely faire: even so he imagined, that -althogh she devised by her best meanes to give him content; yet -others would grow enamored of her, because she appeared so amiable -to al. In which respect, time might tutor her to affect some other -beside himselfe: the onely common argument of every bad minded man, -being weake and shallow in his owne understanding. This jelous humour** -increasing in him more and more, he kept her in such narrow restraint: -that many persons condemned to death, have enjoyed larger libertie in -their imprisonment. For, she might not bee present at Feasts, Weddings, -nor goe to Church, or so much as to be seen at her doore: Nay, she -durst not stand in her Window, nor looke out of her house, for any -occasion whatsoever. By means whereof, life seemed most tedious and -offensive to her, and she supported it the more impatiently, because -shee knew her selfe not any way faulty. - -Seeing her husband still persist in this shamefull course towards her; -she studied, how she might best comfort her selfe in this desolate -case: by devising some one meane or other (if any at all were to bee -founde) whereby he might be requited in his kind, and wear that badge -of shame whereof he was now but onely affraid. And because she could -not gain so small a permission, as to be seene at any window, where -(happily) she might have observed some one passing by in the street, -discerning a little parcell of her love: she remembred at length, that, -in the next house to her Husbands (they both joyning close together) -there dwelt a comely yong proper Gentleman, whose perfections carried -correspondencie with her desires. She also considered with her selfe, -that if there were any partition wall; such a chinke or cranny might -easily be made therein, by which (at one time or other) she should -gaine a sight of the young Gentleman, and finde an houre so fitting, -as to conferre with him, and bestow her lovely favour on him, if he -pleased to accept it. If successe (in this case) proved answerable to -her hope, then thus she resolved to outrun the rest of her wearisome -dayes, except the frensie of jealousie did finish her husbands loathed -life before. - -Walking from one roome to another, thorough every part of the house; -and no wall escaping without diligent surveying; on a day, when her -Husband was absent from home, she espyed in a corner very secret, an -indifferent cleft in the Wall, which though it yeelded no full view on -the other side, yet she plainly perceived it to be an handsome Chamber, -and grew more then halfe perswaded, that either it might be the Chamber -of _Philippo_ (for so was the neighbouring yong Gentleman named) or -else a passage guiding thereto. A Chambermaid of hers, who compassioned -her case very much; made such observance, by her Mistresses direction, -that she found it to be _Philippoes_ bed Chamber, and where alwayes he -used to lodge alone. By often visiting this rift or chinke in the Wall, -especially when the Gentleman was there; and by throwing in little -stones, flowers, and such like things, which fell still in his way as -he walked: so farre she prevailed, that he stepping to the chinke, to -know from whence they came; shee called softly to him, who knowing her -voyce, there they had such private conference together, as was not -any way displeasing to either. So that the chinke being made a little -larger; yet so, as it could not be easily discerned: their mouthes -might meete with kisses together, and their hands folded each in other; -but nothing else to be performed, for continuall feare of her jelous -husband. - -Now the Feast of Christmasse drawing neere, the Gentlewoman said to -her Husband; that, if it stood with his liking: she would do such -duty as fitted with so solemne a time, by going earely in a morning -unto Church, there to be confessed, and receive her Saviour, as other -Christians did. How now? replied the jealous Asse, what sinnes have -you committed, that should neede confession? How Husband? quoth she, -what do you thinke me to be a Saint? Who knoweth not, I pray you, that -I am as subject to sinne, as any other Woman living in the world? But -my sins are not to be revealed to you, because you are no Priest. -These words enflamed his jealousie more violently then before, and -needes must he know what sinnes she had committed, & having resolved -what to do in this case, made her answer: That hee was contented with -her motion, alwaies provided, that she went to no other Church, then -unto their owne Chappel, betimes in a morning; and their own Chaplaine -to confesse her, or some other Priest by him appointed, but not any -other: and then she to returne home presently againe. She being a -woman of acute apprehension, presently collected his whole intention: -but seeming to take no knowledge thereof, replyed, that she would not -swerve from his direction. - -When the appointed day was come, she arose very earely, and being -prepared answerable to her owne liking, to the Chappell shee went -as her Husband had appointed, where her jealous Husband (being much -earlier risen than she) attended for her comming: having so ordred the -matter with his Chaplaine, that he was cloathed in his Cowle, with a -large Hood hanging over his eyes, that she should not know him, and -so he went and sate downe in the Confessors place. Shee being entred -into the Chappell, and calling for the Priest to heare her confession, -he made her answer: that he could not intend it, but would bring her -to another holy Brother, who was at better leysure than hee. So to -her Husband he brought her, that seemed (in all respects) like the -Confessor himselfe: save onely his Hood was not so closely veyled, but -shee knew his beard, and said to her selfe. What a mad world is this, -when jealousie can metamorphose an ordinary man into a Priest? But, let -me alone with him, I meane to fit him with that which he lookes for. - -So, appearing to have no knowledge at all of him, downe she fell at -his feete, and he had conveyed a few Cherry stones into his mouth, -to trouble his speech from her knowledge; for, in all things else, he -thought himselfe to be sufficiently fitted for her. In the course of her -confession, she declared, that she was married to a most wicked jealous -Husband, and with whom she lead a very hatefull life. Neverthelesse -(quoth she) I am indifferently even with him, for I am beloved of an -Holie Fryar, that every night commeth and lyeth with me. When the -jealous Husband heard this, it stabbed him like a dagger to the heart, -and, but for this greedy covetous desire to know more; he would faine -have broke off confession, and got him gone. But, perceiving that it -was his wisest course, he questioned further with his wife, saying: Why -good Woman, doth not your husband lodge with you? Yes Sir, quoth she. -How is it possible then (replyed the Husband) that the Friar can lodge -there with you too? - -She, dissembling a farre fetcht sigh, thus answered. Reverend Sir, I -know not what skilfull Art the Fryar useth, but this I am sure, every -doore in our house will flye open to him, so soone as he doth but touch -it. Moreover, he told me, that when he commeth unto my Chamber doore, -he speaketh certaine words to himselfe, which immediately casteth my -Husband into a dead sleepe, and, understanding him to bee thus sleepily -entranced: he openeth the doore, entreth in, lieth downe by me, and -this every night he faileth not to do. The jealous Coxcomb angerly -scratching his head, and wishing his wife halfe hangd, said: Mistresse, -this is very badly done, for you should keepe your selfe from all men, -but your husband onely. That shall I never doe, answered shee, because -(indeed) I love him dearely. Why then (quoth our supposed Confessor) -I cannot give you any absolution. I am the more sorry Sir, said she, I -came not hither to tell you any leasings, for if I could, yet I would -not, because it is not good to fable with such Saint-like men as you -are. You do therein (quoth hee) the better, and surely I am very sorry -for you, because in this dangerous condition, it will bee the utter -losse of your soule: neverthelesse, both for your husbands sake and -your owne, I will take some paines, and use such especiall prayers in -your name, which may (perchance) greatly avayle you. And I purpose now -and then, to send you a Novice or young Clearke of mine, whom you may -safely acquaint with your minde, and signifie to me, by him, whether -they have done you good, or no: and if they prove helpefull, then will -we further proceed therein. Alas Sir, said she, never trouble your -selfe, in sending any body to our house; because, if my Husband should -know it, he is so extreamly jelous, as all the world cannot otherwise -perswade him, but that he commeth thither for no honest intent, and so -I shall live worse then now I do. Fear not that, good woman, quoth he, -but beleeve it certainly, that I will have such a care in this case, as -your Husband shall never speake thereof to you. If you can doe so Sir, -sayde she, proceed I pray you, and I am well contented. - -Confession being thus ended, and she receiving such pennance as hee -appointed, she arose on her feete, and went to heare Masse; while our -jealous Woodcocke (testily puffing and blowing) put off his Religious -habite, returning home presently to his house, beating his braines -al the the way as he went, what meanes he might best devise, for -the taking of his wife and the Friar together, whereby to have them -both severely punished. His wife being come home from the Chappell, -discerned by her Husbands lookes, that he was like to keepe but a -sorry Christmasse: yet he used his utmost industry, to conceale what -he had done, & which she knew as well as himself. And he having fully -resolved, to watch his own street doore the next night ensuing in -person, in expectation of the Friars comming, saide to his Wife. I have -occasion both to suppe and lodge out of my house this night, wherefore -see you the streete doore to be surely made fast on the inside, and the -doore at the middest of the staires, as also your own Chamber doore, -and then (in Gods name) get you to bed. Whereto she answered, that all -should be done as hee had appointed. - -Afterward, when she saw convenient time, she went to the chink in the -Wall, and making such a signe as shee was woont to doe: _Phillippo_ -came thither, to whom she declared all her mornings affayres, & what -directions her husband had given her. Furthermore she saide, certaine -I am, that he will not depart from the house, but sit and watch the -doore without, to take one that comes not heere. If therefore, you can -climbe over the house top, and get in at our gutter Window, you and I -may conferre more familiarly together. The young Gentleman being no -dullard, had his lesson quickly taught him; and when night was come, -_Geloso_ (for so must wee tearme the Cocke-braind husband) armes -himselfe at all points, with a browne Bill in his hand, and so he -sits to watch his owne doore. His Wife had made fast all the doores, -especially that on the midst of the stayres, because he should not (by -any means) come to her Chamber; and so, when the houre served, the -Gentleman adventured over the house top, found the gutter Window, and -the way conducting him to her Chamber, where I leave them to their -further amorous conference. - -_Geloso_, more then halfe mad with anger, first, because hee had -lost his supper: next, having sitten almost all the night (which was -extreamely cold and windie) his Armor much molesting him, and yet he -could see no Friar come: when day drew neere, and hee ashamed to watch -there any longer; conveighed himselfe to some more convenient place, -where putting off his Armes, and seeming to come from the place of -his Lodging; about the ninth houre, he found his doore open, entred -in, & went up the stayres, going to dinner with his Wife. Within a -while after, according as _Geloso_ had ordred the businesse, a youth -came thither, seeming to be the Novice sent from the Confessor, and he -being admitted to speake with her, demanded, whether shee were troubled -or molested that night passed, as formerly she had bin, and whether -the partie came or no? The Woman, who knew well enough the Messenger -(notwithstanding all his formall disguise) made answer: That the party -expected, came not: but if hee had come, it was to no purpose; because -her minde was now otherwise altred, albeit she changed not a jote from -her amorous conclusion. - -What should I now further say unto you? _Geloso_ continued his -watch many nights afterward, as hoping to surprize the Friar at his -entrance, and his wife kept still her contented quarter, according -as opportunitie served. In the conclusion, _Geloso_ being no longer -able to endure his bootlesse watching, nor some (more then ordinary) -pleasing countenance in his wife: one day demaunded of her (with a very -stearne and frowning brow) what secret sinnes shee had revealed to the -ghostly Father, upon the day of her shrift? The Woman replyed, that -she would not tell him, neyther was it a matter reasonable, or lawfull -for her to doe. Wicked Woman, answered _Geloso_: I knowe them all well -enough, even in despight of thee, and every word that thou spakest unto -him. But Huswife, now I must further know, what the Fryar is, with whom -you are so farre in love, and (by meanes of his enchantments) lyeth -with you every night; tell me what and who he is, or else I meane to -cut your throate. - -The Woman immediately made answer, it was not true, that she was in -love with any Fryar. How? quoth _Geloso_, didst thou not thou confesse -so much to the Ghostly Father, the other day when thou wast at shrift? -No Sir, sayde she, but if I did, I am sure he would not disclose it to -you, except hee suffered you to bee there present, which is an Article -beyonde his dutie. But if it were so, then I confesse freely, that I -did say so unto him. Make an end then quickely Wife (quoth _Geloso_) -and tell mee who the Friar is. The Woman fell into a hearty laughter, -saying. It liketh me singularly well, when a wise man will suffer -himselfe to be ledde by a simple Woman, even as a Sheepe is to the -slaughter, and by the hornes. If once thou wast wise, that wisedome -became utterly lost, when thou felst into that divellish frensie of -jealousie, without knowing anie reason for it: for, by this beastlike -and no manly humour, thou hast eclipsed no meane part of my glory, and -womanly reputation. - -Doest thou imagine Husband, that if I were so blinded in the eyes of -my head, as thou art in them which should informe thine understanding; -I could have found out the Priest, that would needs bee my Confessor? -I knew thee Husband to be the man, and therefore I prepared my wit -accordingly, to fit thee with the foolish imagination which thou -soughtest for, and (indeed) gave it thee. For, if thou hadst beene -wise, as thou makest the world to beleeve by outward apparance, thou -wouldest never have expressed such a basenesse of minde, to borrow -the coulour of a sanctified cloake, thereby to undermine the secrets -of thine honest meaning Wife. Wherefore, to feede thee in thy fond -suspition, I was the more free in my Confession, and tolde thee truely, -with whom, and how heinously I had transgressed. Did I not tell thee, -that I loved a Fryar? And art not thou he whom I love, being a Fryar, -and my ghostly Father, though (to thine owne shame) thou madst thy -selfe so? I said moreover, that there is not any doore in our house, -that can keepe it selfe shut against him, but (when he pleaseth) he -comes and lies with me. Now tell me Husband, What doore in our house -hath (at any time) bin shut against thee, but they are freely thine -owne, & grant thee entrance? Thou art the same Friar that confest me, -and lieth every night with me, and so often as thou sentst thy yong -Novice or Clearke to me, as often did I truly returne thee word, when -the same Fryar lay with me. But (by jealousie) thou hast so lost thine -understanding, that thou wilt hardly beleeve all this. - -Alas good man, like an armed Watchman, thou satst at thine owne doore -all a cold Winters night, perswading mee (poore silly credulous woman) -that, upon urgent occasions, thou must needs suppe and lodge from -home. Remember thy selfe therefore better heereafter, become a true -understanding man, as thou shouldst bee, and make not thy selfe a -mocking stocke to them, who knoweth thy jealous qualities, as well as -I do, and be not so watchfull over me, as thou art. For I sweare by my -true honesty, that if I were but as willing, as thou art suspitious: I -could deceive thee, if thou hadst an hundred eyes, as Nature affords -thee but two, and have my pleasures freely, yet thou be not a jot the -wiser, or my credit any way impaired. - -Our wonderfull wise _Geloso_, who (very advisedly considred) that he -had wholly heard his wives secret confession, and dreamed now on no -other doubt beside, but (perceiving by her speeches) how hee was become -a scorne to al men: without returning other answer, confirmed his wife -to bee both wise and honest, and now when he hadde just occasion to -be jealous indeede, hee utterly forsware it, and counted them all -Coxcombes that would be so misguided. Wherefore, she having thus wisely -wonne the way to her owne desires, and he reduced into a more humane -temper: I hope there was no more neede, of clambring over houses in the -night time like Cats, nor walking in at gutter Windowes, but all abuses -were honestly reformed. - - - - -_Madame_ Isabella, _delighting in the company of her affected -Friend, named_ Lionello, _and she being likewise beloved by_ Signior -Lambertuccio: _At the same time as shee had entertained_ Lionello, -_shee was also visited by_ Lambertuccio. _Her Husband returning home in -the very instant: shee caused_ Lambertuccio _to run forth with a drawne -sword in his hand, and (by that meanes) made an excuse sufficient for_ -Lionello _to her husband._ - -The Sixth Novell. - -_Wherein is manifestly discerned, that if Love be driven to a narrow -straite in any of his attempts, yet hee can accomplish his purpose by -some other supply._ - - -Wondrously pleasing to all the company, was the reported Novell of -Madame _Fiammetta_, every one applauding the Womans wisedome, and that -she had done no more, then as the jealous foole her husband justly -deserved. But shee having ended, the King gave order unto Madame -_Pampinea_, that now it was her turne to speake, whereupon, thus she -began. There are no meane store of people who say (though very false -and foolishly,) that Love maketh many to be out of their wits, and that -such as fall in Love, do utterly loose their understanding. To mee -this appeareth a very ydle opinion, as already hath beene approved by -the related discourses, and shall also bee made manifest by another of -mine owne. - -In our City of _Florence_, famous for some good, though as many -bad qualities, there dwelt (not long since) a Gentlewoman, endued -with choice beauty and admirable perfections, being wife to Signior -_Beltramo_, a very valiant Knight, and a man of great possessions. As -oftentimes it commeth to passe, that a man cannot alwayes feede on -one kind of bread, but his appetite will be longing after change: so -fared it with this Lady, named _Isabella_, she being not satisfied -with the delights of her Husband; grew enamoured of a young Gentleman, -called _Lionello_, compleate of person and commendable qualities, -albeit not of the fairest fortunes, yet his affection every way -sutable to hers. And full well you know (faire Ladies) that where the -mindes irreciprocally accorded, no dilligence wanteth for the desires -execution: so this amorous couple, made many solemne protestations, -untill they should bee friended by opportunity. - -It fortuned in the time of their hopefull expectation a Knight, named -Signior _Lambertuccio_, fell likewise in love with _Isabella_: but -because he was somewhat unsightly of person, and utterly unpleasing -in the eye, she grew regardlesse of his frequent solicitings, and -would not accept either tokens, or letters. Which when hee saw, (being -very rich and of great power) hee sought to compasse his intent by -a contrary course, threatning her with scandall and disgrace to her -reputation, and with his associates to bandie against her best friends. -She knowing what manner of man he was, and how able to abuse any with -infamous imputations, wisely returned him hopefull promises, though -never meaning to performe any, but onely (Lady-like) to flatter and -foole him therewith. - -Some few miles distant from _Florence, Beltramo_ had a Castle of -pleasure, and there his Lady _Isabella_ used to live all Summer, as -all other doe the like, being so possessed. On a day, _Beltramo_ being -ridden from home, and she having sent for _Lionello_, to take the -advantage of her Husbands absence; accordingly he went, not doubting -but to winne what he had long expected. Signior _Lambertuccio_ on the -other side, meeting _Beltramo_ riding from his Castle, and _Isabella_ -now fit to enjoy his company: gallops thither with all possible speede, -because hee would bee no longer delayed. Scarcely was _Lionello_ -entred the Castle, and receiving directions by the waiting woman, to -her Ladies Chamber: but _Lambertuccio_ gallopped in at the Gate, which -the woman perceiving, ranne presently and acquainted her Lady with the -comming of _Lambertuccio_. - -Now was shee the onely sorrowfull woman of the world; for nothing was -now to bee feared, but stormes and tempests, because _Lambertuccio_, -spake no other, then Lightning and Thunder, and _Lionello_, (being no -lesse affraide then shee) by her perswasion crept behind the bed, -where he hid himselfe very contentedly. By this time _Lambertuccio_ was -dismounted from his Courser, which he fastened (by the bridle) to a -ring in the wall, and then the waiting woman came to him, to guide him -to her Lady and Mistresse: who stood ready at the staires head, graced -him with a very acceptable welcome, yet marvelling much at his so -sodaine comming. Lady (quoth he) I met your Husband upon the way, which -granting mine accesse to see you; I come to claime your long delayed -promise, the time being now so favourable for it. - -Before he had uttered halfe these words, _Beltramo_, having forgot -an especiall evidence in his Study, which was the onely occasion of -his journey, came gallopping backe againe into the Castell Court, -and seeing such a goodly Gelding stand fastened there, could not -redily imagine who was the owner thereof. The waiting woman, upon -the sight of her Masters entring into the Court, came to her Lady, -saying: My Master _Beltramo_ is returned backe, newly alighted, and -(questionlesse) comming up the staires. Now was our Lady _Isabella_, -ten times worse affrighted then before, (having two severall amourous -suters in her house, both hoping, neither speeding, yet her credite -lying at the stake for either) by this unexpected returne of her -Husband. Moreover, there was no possible meanes, for the concealing of -Signior _Lambertuccio_, because his Gelding stood in the open Court, -and therefore made a shrewde presumption against her, upon the least -doubtfull question urged. - -Neverthelesse, as womens wits are alwayes best upon sudden constraints, -looking forth of her window, and espying her Husband preparing to come -up: she threw her selfe on her day Couch, speaking thus (earnestly) -to _Lambertuccio_. Sir, if ever you loved mee, and would have me -faithfully to beleeve it, by the instant safety both of your owne -honour, and my life, doe but as I advise you. Forth draw your Sword, -and, with a stearne countenance, threatning death and destruction: run -downe the staires, and when you are beneath, say. I sweare by my best -fortunes, although I misse of thee now heere, yet I will be sure to -finde thee some where else. And if my Husband offer to stay you, or -moove any question to you: make no other answere, but what you formerly -spake in fury. Beside, so soone as you are mounted on horsebacke, -have no further conference with him, upon any occasion whatsoever; to -prevent all suspition in him, of our future intendments. - -_Lambertuccio_ sware many terrible oathes, to observe her directions -in every part, and having drawne forth his Sword, grasping it naked in -his hand, and setting worse lookes one the businesse, then ever nature -gave him, because he had spent so much labour in vaine; he failed not -in a jot of the Ladies injunction. _Beltramo_ having commanded his -horse to safe custody, and meeting _Lambertuccio_ discending downe the -staires, so armed, swearing, and most extreamely storming, wondring -extraordinarily as his threatning words, made offer to imbrace him, -and understand the reason of his distemper. _Lambertuccio_ repulsing -him rudely, and setting foote in the stirrup, mounted on his Gelding, -and spake nothing else but this. I sweare by the fairest of all my -fortunes, although I misse of thee heere: yet I will be sure to find -thee some where else, and so he gallopped mainely away. - -When _Beltramo_ was come up into his wives Chamber, hee found her cast -downe upon her Couch, weeping, full of feare, and greatly discomforted; -wherefore he said unto her, What is hee that Signior _Lambertuccio_ -is so extreamely offended withall, and threatneth in such implacable -manner? The Lady arising from her Couch, and going neere to the Beds, -because _Lionello_ might the better heare her; returned her Husband -this answere. Husband (quoth she) never was I so dreadfully affrighted -till now; for, a young Gentleman, of whence, or what he is, I know -not, came running into our Castle for rescue, being pursued by Signior -_Lambertuccio_; with a weapon ready drawne in his hand. Ascending up -our stayres, by what fortune, I know not, he found my chamber doore -standing open, finding me also working on my Sampler, and in wonderfull -feare and trembling. - -Good Madame (quoth hee) for Gods sake helpe to save my life, or else -I shall be slaine heere in your Chamber. Hearing his pittious cry, -and compassionating his desperate case; I arose from my worke, and -in my demaunding of whence, and what he was, that durst presume so -boldly into my bed-chamber: presently came up Signior _Lambertuccio_ -also, in the same uncivill sorte, as before I tolde you, swaggering -and swearing, where is this traiterous villaine? Heereupon, I stept -(somewhat stoutly) to my Chamber doore, and as hee offered to enter, -with a womans courage I resisted him, which made him so much enraged -against mee, that when hee saw mee to debarre his entrance; after many -terrible and vile oathes and vowes, hee ranne downe the stayres againe, -in such like manner as you chaunced to meete him. - -Now trust mee deare wife (said _Beltramo_) you behaved your selfe very -well and worthily: for, it would have beene a most notorious scandall -to us, if a man should bee slaine in your bed-chamber: and Signior -_Lambertuccio_ carryed himselfe most dishonestly, to pursue any man so -outragiously, having taken my Castle as his Sanctuary. But alas wife, -what is become of the poore affrighted Gentleman? Introth Sir (quoth -she) I know not, but (somewhere or other) heereabout hee is hidden. -Where art thou honest friend? said plaine meaning _Beltramo_; Come -forth and feare not, for thine enemy is gone. - -_Lionello_, who had heard all the fore-passed discourse, which shee had -delivered to her Husband _Beltramo_, came creeping forth amazedly (as -one now very fearefully affrighted indeede) from under the further side -of the bedde, and _Beltramo_ saide to him, What a quarrell was this, -between thee and furious _Lambertuccio_? Not any at all Sir, replyed -_Lionello_, to my knowledge, which verily perswadeth me; that either -he is not well in his wits, or else he mistaketh me for some other; -because, so soone as he saw me on the way, somewhat neere to this your -Castle, he drew forth his Sword, and swearing an horrible oath, said. -Traitor thou art a dead man. Upon these rough words, I stayed not to -question the occasion of mine offending him: but fled from him so fast -as possibly I could; but confesse my selfe (indeede) over-bold, by -presuming into your Ladies bed chamber, which yet (equalled with her -mercie) hath bin the onely meanes at this time, of saving my life. - -She hath done like a good Lady, answered _Beltramo_, and I do verie -much commend her for it. But, recollect thy dismayed spirits together, -for I will see thee safely secured hence, afterward, looke to thy -selfe so well as thou canst. Dinner being immediately made ready, -and they having merrily feasted together: he bestowed a good Gelding -on _Lionello_, and rode along with him to _Florence_, where he left -him quietly in his owne lodging. The selfe-same Evening (according -as _Isabella_ had given enstruction) _Lionello_ conferred with -_Lambertuccio_: and such an agreement passed betweene them, that though -some rough speeches were noised abroad, to set the better colour on -the businesse; yet al matters were so cleanly carried, that _Beltramo_ -never knew this queint deceitfull policy of his Wife. - - - - -Lodovico _discovered to his Mistresse Madame_ Beatrix, _how amorously -he was affected to her. She cunningly sent_ Egano _her Husband into -his garden, in all respects disguised like herselfe, while (friendly)_ -Lodovico _conferred with her in the meane while. Afterward,_ Lodovico -_pretending a lascivious allurement of his Mistresse, thereby to wrong -his honest Master, insted of her, beateth_ Egano _soundly in the -Garden._ - -The Seventh Novell. - -_Whereby is declared, that such as keepe many honest seeming servants, -may sometime finde a knave among them, and one that proves to be -over-sawcy with his Master._ - - -This so sodaine dexterity of wit in _Isabella_, related in verie modest -manner by Madame _Pampinea_, was not onely admired by all the company; -but likewise passed with as generall approbation. But yet Madam -_Philomena_ (whom the King had commanded next to succeede) peremptorily -sayde. Worthy Ladies, if I am not deceived; I intend to tell you -another Tale presently; as much to be commended as the last. - -You are to understand then, that it is no long while since, when there -dwelt in _Paris_ a _Florentine_ Gentleman, who falling into decay of -his estate, by over-bountifull expences; undertooke the degree of a -Merchant, and thrived so well by his trading, that he grew to great -wealth, having one onely sonne by his wife, named _Lodovico_. This -Sonne, partaking somewhat in his Fathers former height of minde, and -no way inclineable to deale in Merchandize, had no meaning to be a -Shop-man, and therefore accompanied the Gentlemen of _France_, in -sundry services for the King; among whom, by his singular good carriage -and qualities, he happened to be not meanly esteemed. While thus he -continued in the Court, it chanced, that certaine Knights, returning -from _Jerusalem_, having there visited the holy Sepulcher, and comming -into company where _Lodovico_ was: much familiar discourse passed -amongst them, concerning the faire women of _France, England,_ and -other parts of the world where they had bin, and what delicate beauties -they had seene. - -One in the company constantly avouched, that of all the Women by -them so generally observed, there was not any comparable to the Wife -of _Egano de Galluzzi_, dwelling in _Bologna_, and her name Madam -_Beatrix_, reputed to be the onely faire woman of the world. Many of -the rest maintained as much, having bin at _Bologna_, and likewise -seene her. _Lodovico_ hearing the woman to be so highly commended, -and never (as yet) feeling any thought of amorous inclination; became -sodainely toucht with an earnest desire of seeing her, and his minde -could entertaine no other matter, but onely of travailing thither to -see her, yea, and to continue there, if occasion so served. The reason -for his journey urged to his Father, was to visit _Jerusalem_, and the -holy Sepulcher, which with much difficulty, at length he obtained his -leave. - -Being on his journey towards _Bologna_, by the name of _Anichino_, and -not of _Lodovico_, and being there arrived; upon the day following, -and having understood the place of her abiding: it was his good happe, -to see the Lady at her Window; she appearing in his eye farre more -faire, then all reports had made her to be. Heereupon, his affection -became so enflamed to her, as he vowed, never to depart from _Bologna_, -untill he had obtained her love. And devising by what meanes he might -effect his hopes, he grew perswaded (setting all other attempts aside) -that if he could be entertained into her Husbands service, and undergo -some businesse in the house, time might tutor him to obtaine his -desire. Having given his attendants sufficient allowance, to spare his -company, and take no knowledge of him, selling his Horses also, and -other notices which might discover him: he grew into acquaintance with -the Hoste of the house where he lay, revealing an earnest desire in -himselfe, to serve some Lord or worthy Gentleman, if any were willing to -give him entertainment. - -Now beleeve me Sir (answered the Hoste) you seeme worthy to have a good -service indeede, and I know a Noble Gentleman of this Cittie, who is -named _Egano_: he will (without all question) accept your offer, for -hee keepeth many men of verie good deserving, and you shall have my -furtherance therein so much as may be. As he promised, so he performed, -and taking _Anichino_ with him unto _Egano_: so farre he prevailed by -his friendly protestations, and good opinion of the young Gentleman; -that _Anichino_ was (without more ado) accepted into _Eganoes_ service, -then which, nothing could be more pleasing to him. Now had he the -benefit of dayly beholding his hearts Mistresse, and so acceptable -proved his service to _Egano_, that he grew very farre in love with -him: not undertaking any affayres whatsoever, without the advice and -direction of _Anichino_, so that he reposed his most especiall trust in -him, as a man altogether governed by him. - -It fortuned upon a day, that _Egano_ being ridden to flye his Hawke at -the River, and _Anichino_ remaining behinde at home, Madame _Beatrix_, -who (as yet) had taken no notice of _Anichinoes_ love to her (albeit -her selfe, observing his fine carriage and commendable qualities, was -highly pleased to have so seeming a servant) called him to play at the -Chesse with her: and _Anichino_, coveting nothing more then to content -her, carried himselfe so dexteriously in the game, that he permitted -hir still to win, which was no little joy to her. When all the -Gentle-women, and other friends there present, as spectators to behold -their play, had taken their farewell, and were departed, leaving them -all alone, yet gaming still: _Anichino_ breathing forth an intire sigh, -Madame _Beatrix_ looking merrily on him, said. Tell me _Anichino_, art -not thou angrie, to see me win? It should appeare so by that solemne -sigh. No truly Madame, answered _Anichino_, a matter of farre greater -moment, then losse of infinite games at the Chesse, was the occasion -why I sighed. I pray thee (replyed the Lady) by the love thou bearest -me, as being my Servant (if any love at all remain in thee towards me) -give me a reason for that harty sigh. - -When he heard himselfe so severely conjured, by the love he bare to -her, and loved none else in the world beside: he gave a farre more -hart-sicke sigh, then before. Then his Lady and Mistresse entreated -him seriously, to let her know the cause of those two deepe sighes: -whereto _Anichino_ thus replyed. Madam, if I should tell you, I stand -greatly in feare of offending you: and when I have told you, I doubt -your discovery thereof to some other. Beleeve me _Anichino_ (quoth she) -therein thou neither canst, or shalt offend me. Moreover, assure thy -selfe, that I will never disclose it to any other, except I may do it -with thy consent. Madame (saide hee) seeing you have protested such a -solemne promise to mee, I will reveale no meane secret unto you. - -So, with teares standing in his eyes, he told her what he was; where he -heard the first report of her singular perfections, and instantly became** -enamored of her, as the maine motive of his entring into her service. -Then, most humbly he entreated her, that if it might agree with her -good liking, she would be pleased to commisserate his case; and grace -him with her private favours. Or, if shee might not be so mercifull -to him; that yet she would vouchsafe, to let him live in the lowly -condition as he did, and thinke it a thankefull duty in him, onely to -love her. O singular sweetnesse, naturally living in faire feminine -blood! How justly art thou worthy of praise in the like occasions? Thou -couldst never be wonne by sighes and teares; but hearty imprecations -have alwayes prevailed with thee, making thee apt and easie to amorous -desires. If I had praises answerable to thy great and glorious -deservings, my voice should never faint, nor my pen waxe weary, in the -due and obsequious performance of them. - -Madam _Beatrix_, well observing _Anichino_ when he spake, and giving -credit to his so solemne protestations; they were so powerfull in -prevailing with her, that her senses (in the same manner) were -enchanted; and sighes flew as violently from her, as before he had -vented them: which stormy tempest being a little over-blowne, thus -she spake. _Anichino_, my hearts deere affected Friend, live in hope, -for I tell thee truly, never could gifts, promises, nor any Courtings -used to me by Lords, Knights, Gentlemen, or other (although I have -bin solicited by many) winne the lest grace or favour at my hand, no, -nor move me to any affection. But thou, in a minute of time (compared -with their long and tedious suing) hast expressed such a soveraigne -potency in thy sweet words, that thou hast made me more thine, then -mine owne: and beleeve it unfeinedly, I hold thee to be worthy of my -love. Wherefore, with this kisse I freely give it thee, and make thee a -further promise, that before this night shall be fully past, thou shalt -in better manner perceive it. Adventure into my Chamber about the houre -of midnight, I will leave the doore open: thou knowest, on which side -of the bed I use to rest, come thither and feare not: if I sleep, the -least gentle touch of thy hand will wake me, and then thou shalt see -how much I love thee. So, with a kinde kisse or two, the bargaine was -concluded, she licensing his departure for that time, and he staying -in hope of his hearts happinesse, till when, he thought every houre a -yeare. - -In the meane while, _Egano_ returned home from Hawking, and so soone -as he had supt (being very weary) he went to bed, and his Ladie -likewise with him, leaving her Chamber doore open, according as she had -promised. At the houre appointed, _Anichino_ came, finding the doore -but easily put too, which (being entred) softly he closed againe, in -the same manner as he found it. Going to the beds side where the Lady -lay, and gently touching her brest with his hand, he found her to be -awake, and perceiving he was come according unto promise, shee caught -his hand fast with hers, and held him very strongly. Then, turning -(as she could) towards _Egano_, she made such meanes, as hee awaked, -whereupon she spake unto him as followeth. - -Sir, yesternight I would have had a fewe speeches with you: but, in -regard of your wearinesse and early going to bed, I could not have any -opportunity. Now, this time and place being most convenient, I desire -to bee resolved by you: Among all the men retained into your service; -which of them you do thinke to be the best, most loyall, and worthiest -to enjoy your love? _Egano_ answered thus: Wife, why should you move -such a question to me? Do not you know, that I never had any servant -heeretofore, or ever shall have heereafter, in whom I reposed the like -trust as I have done, and do in _Anichino_? But to what end is this -motion of yours? I will tell you Sir (quoth she) and then be Judge -yourself, whether I have reason to move this question, or no. Mine -opinion every way equalled yours, concerning _Anichino_, & that he -was more just and faithfull to you, then any could be amongest all the -rest: But Husband, like as where the water runneth stillest, the Foord -is deepest, even so, his smooth lookes have beguiled both you and me. -For, no longer agoe, then this verie day, no sooner were you ridden -foorth on Hauking, but he (belike purposely) tarrying at home, watching -such a leysure as best fitted his intent: was not ashamed to solicite -mee, both to abuse your bed, and mine owne spotlesse honor. - -Moreover, he prosecuted his impious purpose with such alluring -perswasions: that being a weake woman, and not willing to endure over -many Amorous proofes (onely to acquaint you with his most sawcie -immodestie, and to revenge your selfe uppon him as best you may; your -selfe beeing best able to pronounce him guiltie) I made him promise, -to meete him in our Garden, presently after midde-night, and to finde -mee sitting under the Pine-Tree, never meaning (as I am vertuous) to -be there. But, that you may know the deceite and falshoode of your -Servant, I would have you to put on my Night-gowne, my head Attire, -and Chinne-cloath, and sitting but a short while there underneath the -Pine-Tree: such is his insatiate desire, as he will not faile to come, -and then you may proceede, as you finde occasion. - -When _Egano_ heard these Words, sodainely hee started out of Bed, -saying. Doe I foster such a Snake in mine owne bosome? Gramercie Wife -for this politicke promise of thine, and beleeve mee, I meane to follow -it effectually. So, on he put his Ladies Night-gown, her formall head -Attire and Chin-cloth, going presently downe into the Garden, to expect -_Anichinoes_ comming to the Pine-Tree. But before the matter grew to -this issue, let me demand of you faire Ladies, in what a lamentable -condition (as you may imagine) was poore _Anichino_; to bee so strongly -detained by her, heare all his amorous suite discovered, and likely -to draw very heavy afflictions on him? Undoubtedly, he looked for -immediate apprehension by _Egano_, imprisonment and publike punishment -for his so malapert presumption: and had it proved so, she had much -renowned her selfe, and dealt with him but as he had justlie deserved. - -But frailtie in our feminine sex is too much prevalent, and makes us -wander from vertuous courses, when we are wel onward in the way to -them. Madam _Beatrix_, whatsoever passed betweene her and _Anichino_, I -know not, but, either to continue this new begunne league for further -time, or, to be revenged on her husbands simplicity, in over-rashlie -giving credit to so smooth a ly; this was her advise to him. _Anichino_ -quoth she, Take a good Cudgell in thy hand, then go into the Garden so -farre as the Pine; and there, as if formerly thou hadst solicited mee -unto this secret meeting, only but by way of approving my honestie: -in my name, revile thy master so bitterly as thou canst, bestowing -manie sound blowes on him with thy cudgell; yet urge the shame still (as -it were) to mee, and never leave him, till thou hast beaten him out -of the garden, to teach him keepe his bed another time. Such an apt -Scholler as _Anichino_ was in this kind, needs no tuturing, but a word -is enough to a ready Wit. To the Garden goes he, with a good willow -cudgell in his hand, and comming neere to the Pine-tree, there he found -_Egano_ disguised like to his Lady, who arising from the place where -he sate, went with chearefull gesture to welcome him; but _Anichino_ -(in rough and stearne manner) thus spake unto him. Wicked, shamelesse, -and most immodest Woman, Art thou come, according to thine unchaste -and lascivious promise? Couldest thou so easily credite, (though I -tempted thee, to trie the vertue of thy continencie) I would offer such -a damnable wrong to my worthy Master, that so deerely loves me, and -reposeth his especiall confidence in me? Thou art much deceived in me, -and shalt finde, that I hate to be false to him. - -So lifting up the Cudgell, he gave him therewith halfe a score good -bastinadoes, laying them on soundly, both on his armes and shoulders: -and _Egano_ feeling the smart of them, durst not speake one Worde, but -fled away from him so fast as hee could, _Anichino_ still following, -and multiplying many other injurious speeches against him, with the -Epithites of Strumpet, lustfull and insatiate Woman. Go thou lewde -beast (quoth he) most unworthy the title of a Lady, or to be Wife unto -so good a natured man, as my Mayster is, to whom I will reveale thy -most ungracious incivility to Morrow, that he may punish thee a little -better then I have done. - -_Egano_ being thus well beaten for his Garden walke, got within the -doore, and so went up to his Chamber againe: his Lady there demanding -of him, whether _Anichino_ came according to his promise, or no? Come? -quoth Egano, Yes Wife, he came, but deerely to my cost: for hee verily -taking me for thee, hath beaten me most extreamly, calling me an -hundred Whores and Strumpets, reputing thee to bee the wickedest Woman -living. In good sadnesse _Beatrix_, I wondred not a little at him, -that he would give thee any such vile speeches, with intent to wrong -mee in mine honour. Questionlesse, because hee saw thee to be joviall -spirited, gracious and affable towardes all men; therefore hee intended -to make triall of thine honest carriage. Well Sir (sayde shee) twas -happy that hee tempted mee with words, and let you taste the proofe -of them by deeds: and let him thinke, that I brooke those words as -distastably, as you do or can, his ill deeds. But seeing he is so just, -faithfull, and loyall to you, you may love him the better, and respect -him as you finde occasion. - -Whereto _Egano_ thus replyed. Now trust me wife, thou hast said very -well: And drawing hence the argument of his setled perswasion; that he -had the chastest Woman living to his wife, and so just a Servant, as -could not be fellowed: there never was any further discoverie of this -Garden-night accident. Perhaps, Madame _Beatrix_ and _Anichino_ might -subtilly smile thereat in secret, in regard that they knew more then -any other else beside did. But, as for honest meaning _Egano_, hee -never had so much as the verie least mistrust of ill dealing, either -in his Lady, or _Anichino_; whom hee loved and esteemed farre more -respectively uppon this proofe of his honestie towards him, then hee -would or could possibly have done, without a triall so playne and -pregnant. - - - - -Arriguccio Berlinghieri, _became immeasurably jelous of his Wife_ -Simonida, _who fastened a thred about her great toe, for to serve as a -signall, when her amorous friend should come to visite her._ Arriguccio -_findeth the fallacie, and while he pursueth the amorous friend, shee -causeth her Maide to lye in her bed against his returne: whom he -beateth extreamly, cutting away the lockes of her haire (thinking he -had doone all this violence to his wife_ Simonida:) _and afterward -fetcheth her Mother & Brethren, to shame her before them, and so be -rid of her. But they finding all his speeches to be utterly false; and -reputing him to bee a drunken jealous foole; all the blame and disgrace -falleth on himselfe._ - -The Eight Novell. - -_Whereby appeareth, that an Husband ought to be very well advised, when -he meaneth to discover any wrong offered his wife; except hee himselfe -do rashly run into all the shame and reproach._ - - -It seemed to the whole assembly, that Madam _Beatrix_, dealte somewhat -strangely, in the manner of beguiling her husband; and affirmed also, -that _Anichino_ had great cause of fear, when she held him so strongly -by her beds side, and related all his amorous temptation. But when the -King perceyved, that Madame _Philomena_ sate silent, he turned to Madam -_Neiphila_, willing her to supply the next place; who modestly smiling, -thus began. - -Faire Ladies, it were an heavy burthen imposed on me, and a matter -much surmounting my capacity, if I should vainely imagine, to content -you with so pleasing a Novell, as those have already done, by you so -singularly reported: neverthelesse, I must discharge my dutie, and take -my fortune as it fals, albeit I hope to finde you mercifull. - -You are to know then, that sometime there lived in our Citie, a -very welthy Merchant, named _Arriguccio Berlinghieri_, who (as many -Merchants have done) fondly imagined, to make himselfe a Gentleman by -marriage. Which that he might the more assuredly do, he took to wife -a Gentlewoman, one much above his degree or element, she being named -_Simonida_. Now, in regard that he delighted (as it is the usuall life -of a Merchant) to be often abroad, and little at home, whereby shee -had small benefit of his company; shee grew very forward in affection -with a young Gentleman, called Signior _Roberto_, who had solicited -hir by many amorous meanes, and (at length) prevailed to win her -favor. Which favour being once obtained; affection gaddes so farre -beyond al discretion, and makes Lovers so heedelesse of their private -conversations: that either they are taken tardy in their folly, or else -subjected to scandalous suspition. - -It came to passe, that _Arriguccio_, either by rumour, or some other -more sensible apprehension, had received such intelligence concerning -his Wife _Simonida_, as he grew into extraordinarie jealousie of -her, refraining travaile abroad, as formerly he was wont to doe, and -ceassing from his verie ordinary affayres, addicting all his care -and endeavour, onely to be watchfull of his Wife; so that he never -durst sleepe, untill she were by him in the bed, which was no meane -molestation to her, being thus curbd from her familiar meetings with -_Roberto_. Neverthelesse, having a long while consulted with her -wittes, to find some apte meanes for conversing with him, being thereto -also very earnestlie still solicited by him; you shall heare what -course she undertooke. - -Her Chamber being on the streete side, and somewhat juttying over it, -she observed the disposition of her Husband, that every night it was -long before he fell asleepe: but beeing once falne into it, no noyse -whatsoever, could easily wake him. This his solemne and sound sleeping, -emboldned her so farre, as to meete with _Roberto_ at the streete -doore, which (while her Husband slept) softly she would open to him, -and there in private converse with him. - -But, because shee would know the certaine houre of his comming, without -the least suspition of any: she hung a thred forth of her Chamber -Window, descending downe, within the compasse of _Robertoes_ reach -in the street, and the other end thereof, guided from the Window to -the bed, being conveyed under the cloathes, and shee being in bed, -she fastned it about her left great Toe, wherewith _Roberto_ was -sufficiently acquainted, and thus enstructed withall; that at his -comming, he should plucke the thred, & if her husband was in his dead -sleep, she would let go the thred, and come downe to him: but if he -slept not, she would hold it strongly, and then his tarrying would -prove but in vaine; there could be no meeting that night. - -This devise was highly pleasing both to _Roberto_ and _Simonida_, being -the intelligencer of their often meeting, and many times also advising -the contrary. But in the end, as the quaintest cunning may faile at one -time or another; so it fortuned one night, that _Simonida_ being in a -sound sleepe, and _Arriguccio_ waking, because his drowsie houre was -not as yet come: as he extended forth his legge in the bed, he found -the thred, which feeling in his hand, and perceiving it was tyed to his -wives great toe; it prooved apt tinder to kindle further Jealousie, -and now hee suspected some treachery indeede, and so much the rather -because the thred guided (under the cloathes) from the bed to the -window, and there hanging downe into the streete, as a warning to some -further businesse. - -Now was _Arriguccio_ so furiously enflamed, that hee must needes bee -further resolved in this apparant doubt: and because therein hee would -not be deceived, softly he cut the thred from his wives toe, and made -it fast about his owne; to trye what successe would ensue thereon. It -was not long before _Roberto_ came, and according as hee used to doe, -hee pluckt the thred, which _Arriguccio_ felt, but because hee had -not tyed it fast, and _Roberto_ pulling it over-hardly, it fell downe -from the window into his hand, which he understood as his lesson, to -attend her comming, and so hee did. _Arriguccio_ stealing softly out -of bed from his wife, and taking his Sword under his arme, went downe -to the doore, to see who it was, with full intent of further revenge. -Now, albeit he was a Merchant, yet he wanted not courage, and boldnesse -of spirit, and opening the doore without any noyse, onely as his wife -was wont to doe: _Roberto_, there waiting his entrance, perceived by -the doores unfashionable opening, that it was not _Simonida_, but her -Husband, whereupon he betooke himselfe to flight, and _Arriguccio_ -fiercely followed him. At the length, _Roberto_ perceiving that flight -avayled him not, because his enemy still pursued him: being armed also -with a Sword, as _Arriguccio_ was; he returned backe upon him, the one -offering to offend, as the other stood upon his defence, and so in the -darke they fought together. - -_Simonida_ awaking, even when her Husband went foorth of the Chamber, -and finding the thred to be cut from her toe; conjectured immediately, -that her subtle cunning was discovered, and supposing her Husband in -pursuite of _Roberto_, presently she arose; and, considering what -was likely to ensue thereon, called her Chamber-maide (who was not -ignorant in the businesse) and by perswasions prevailed so with her, -that she lay downe in her place in the bed, upon solemne protestations -and liberall promises, not to make her selfe knowne, but to suffer all -patiently, either blowes, or other ill usage of her Husband, which -shee would recompence in such bountifull sort, as she should have no -occasion to complaine. So, putting out the watch-light, which every -night burned in the Chamber, she departed thence, and sate downe in -a close corner of the house, to see what would be the end of all this -stirre, after her Husbands comming home. - -The fight (as you have formerly heard) continuing betweene _Roberto_ -and _Arriguccio_, the neighbours hearing of the clashing of their -Swords in the streets; arose out of their beds, and reproved them in -very harsh manner. In which respect _Arriguccio_, fearing to be knowne, -and ignorant also what his adversary was (no harme being as yet done -on either side) permitted him to depart; and extreamely full of anger, -returned backe againe to his house. Being come up into his bed-chamber, -Thus he began; Where is this lewde and wicked woman? what? hast thou -put out the light, because I should not finde thee? that shall not -avayle thee, for I can well enough finde a drab in the darke. So, -groping on to the beds side, and thinking hee had taken hold on his -wife, he grasped the Chamber-maide, so beating her with his fists, and -spurning her with his feet, that all her face was bloody & bruised. -Next, with his knife he cut off a great deal of her haire: giving her -the most villanous speeches as could be devised: swearing, that he -would make her a shame to all the world. - -You need make no doubt, but the poore maide wept exceedingly, as she -had good occasion to doe: and albeit many times she desired mercy, -and that hee would not bee so cruell to her: yet notwithstanding, her -voyce was so broken with crying, and his impacience so extreame, that -rage hindered all power of distinguishing, or knowing his wives tongue -from a strangers. Having thus madly beaten her, and cut the lockes off -from her head, thus he spake to her. Wicked woman, and no wife of mine, -be sure I have not done with thee yet; for, although I meane not now -to beate thee any longer: I will goe to thy brethren, and they shall -understand thy dishonest behaviour. Then will I bring them home with -me, and they perceiving how much thou hast abused both their honour -and thine owne; let them deale with thee as they finde occasion, for -thou art no more a companion for me. No sooner had he uttered these -angry words, but hee went forth of the Chamber, bolting it fast on the -outward side, as meaning to keepe her safely inclosed, & out of the -house he went alone by himselfe. - -_Simonida_, who had heard all this tempestuous conflict, perceiving -that her Husband had lockt the streete doore after him, and was -gone whether he pleased: unbolted the Chamber doore, lighted a waxe -candle, and went in to see her poore maide, whom she found to be most -pittifully misused. She comforted her as well as she could, brought her -into her owne lodging Chamber, where washing her face and hurts in very -soveraigne waters, and rewarding her liberally with _Arriguccioes_ owne -Gold; she held her selfe to bee sufficiently satisfyed. So, leaving the -maide in her lodging, and returning againe to her owne Chamber: she -made up the bed in such former manner, as if no body had lodged therein -that night. Then hanging up her Lampe fresh fild with oyle, and clearly -lighted, she deckt her selfe in so decent sort, as if she had bin in no -bed all that night. - -Then taking sowing worke in her hand, either shirts or bands of her -Husbands; hanging the Lampe by her, and sitting downe at the stayres -head, she fell to worke in very serious manner, as if shee had -undertaken some imposed taske. - -On the other side, _Arriguccio_ had travelled so farre from his -house, till he came at last to the dwelling of _Simonidaes_ brethren: -where hee knockt so soundly, that he was quickely heard, and (almost -as speedily) let in. _Simonidaes_ brethren, and her mother also, -hearing of _Arriguccioes_ comming thither so late. Rose from their -beds, and each of them having a Waxe Candle lighted came presently to -him, to understand the cause of this his so unseasonable visitation. -_Arriguccio_, beginning at the originall of the matter, the thred found -tyed about his wives great toe, the fight and houshold conflict after -following: related every circumstance to them. And for the better -proofe of his words, he shewed them the thred it selfe, the lockes -supposed of his wives haire, and adding withall; that they might now -dispose of _Simonida_ as themselves pleased, because she should remaine -no longer in his house. - -The brethren to _Simonida_ were exceedingly offended at this relation, -in regard they beleeved it for truth, and in this fury, commanded -Torches to be lighted, preparing to part thence with _Arriguccio_ home -to his house, for the more sharpe reprehension of their Sister. Which -when their mother saw, she followed them weeping, first entreating -one, and then the other, not to be over rash in crediting such a -slander, but rather to consider the truth thereof advisedly: because -the Husband might be angry with his Wife upon some other occasion, -and having outraged her, made this the meanes in excuse of himselfe. -Morever she said, that she could not chuse but wonder greatly, how this -matter should thus come to passe; because she had good knowledge of -her daughter, during the whole course of her education, faultlesse and -blamelesse in every degree; with many other good words of her beside, -as proceeding from naturall affection of a mother. - -Being come to the house of _Arriguccio_, entring in, and ascending up -the stayres: they heard _Simonida_ sweetly singing at her working; but -pausing, upon hearing their rude trampling, shee demaunded, who was -there. One of the angry brethren presently answered: Lewde woman as -thou art, thou shalt know soone enough who is heere: Our blessed Lady -be with us (quoth _Simonida_) and sweet Saint Frances helpe to defend -me, who dare use such unseemely speeches? Starting up and meeting them -on the staire head: Kinde brethren, (said she) is it you? What, and -my loving mother too? For sweet Saint Charities sake, what may be the -reason of your comming hither in this manner. Shee being set downe -againe to her worke, so neatly apparelled, without any signe of outrage -offered her, her face unblemished, her haire comely ordered, and -differing wholly from the former speeches of her Husband: the Brethren -marvelled thereat not a little; and asswaging somewhat the impetuous -torrent of their rage; began to demaund in coole blood, (as it were) -from what ground her Husbands complaints proceeded, and threatning her -roughly, if she would not confesse the truth intirely to them. - -Ave Maria (quoth _Simonida_, crossing her selfe) Alas deare Brethren, -I know not what you say, or meane, nor wherein my Husband should bee -offended, or make any complaint at all of me. _Arriguccio_ hearing -this, looked on her like a man that had lost his Senses: for well he -remembred, how many cruell blowes he had given her on the face, beside -scratches of his nailes, and spurnes of his feet, as also the cutting -of her haire, the the least shew of all which misusage, was not now -to be seene. Her brethren likewise briefly told her, the whole effect -of her Husbands speeches, shewing her the thred, and in what cruell -manner he sware hee did beate her. _Simonida_, turning then to her -Husband, and seeming as confounded with amazement, said. How is this -Husband? what doe I heare? would you have me supposed (to your owne -shame and disgrace) to be a bad woman, and your selfe a cruell curst -man, when (on either side) there is no such matter? When were you this -night heere in the house with mee? Or when should you beate mee, and I -not feele nor know it. Beleeve me (sweete heart) all these are meerely -miracles to me. - -Now was _Arriguccio_ ten times more mad in his minde, then before, -saying. Divell, and no woman, did wee not this night goe both together -to bed? Did not I cut this thred from thy great toe, tyed it to mine, -and found the craftie compact betweene thee and thy Minnion? Did not -I follow and fight with him in the streets? Came I not backe againe, -and beate thee as a Strumpet should be? And are not these the locks of -haire, which I my selfe did cut from thy head? - -Alas Sir (quoth she) where have you been? doe you know what you say? -you did not lodge in this house this night, neither did I see you all -the whole day and night, till now. - -But leaving this, and come to the matter now in question, because I -have no other testimony then mine owne words. You say, that you did -beate me, and cut those lockes of haire from my head. Alas Sir, why -should you slander your selfe? In all your life time you did never -strike me. And to approve the truth of my speeches, doe you your selfe, -and all else heere present, looke on me advisedly, if any signe of blow -or beating is to be seene on me. Nor were it an easie matter for you -to doe either to smite, or so much as lay your hand (in anger) on me, -it would cost dearer then you thinke for. And whereas you say, that -you did cut those lockes of haire from my head; it is more then either -I know, or felt, nor are they in colour like to mine: but, because my -Mother and brethren shall be my witnesses therein, and whether you did -it without my knowledge; you shall all see, if they be cut, or no. So, -taking off her head attyre, she displayed her hayre over her shoulders, -which had suffered no violence, neither seemed to bee so much as -uncivilly or rudely handled. - -When the mother and brethren saw this, they began to murmure against -_Arriguccio_, saying, What thinke you of this Sir? you tell us of -strange matters which you have done, and all proving false, we wonder -how you can make good the rest. _Arriguccio_ looked wilde, and -confusedly, striving still to maintaine his accusation: but seeing -every thing to bee flatly against him, he durst not attempt to speake -one word. _Simonida_ tooke advantage of this distraction in him, and -turning to her brethren, saide. I see now the marke whereat he aymeth, -to make me doe what I never meante: Namely, that I should acquaint you -with his vile qualities, and what a wretched life I leade with him, -which seeing hee will needes have me to reveale; beare with me if I doe -it upon compulsion. - -Mother and Brethren, I am verily perswaded, that those accidents which -he disclosed to you, hath doubtlesse (in the same manner) happened to -him, and you shall heare how. Very true it is, that this seeming honest -man, to whom (in a lucklesse houre) you married me, stileth himselfe -by the name of a Merchant, coveting to be so accounted and credited, -as holy in outward appearance, as a Religious Monke, and as demure in -lookes, as the modestest Maide: like a notorious common drunkard, is a -Taverne hunter, where making his luxurius matches, one while with one -Whore, then againe with another; hee causeth mee every night to sit -tarrying for him, even in the same sort as you found me: sometimes till -midnight, and otherwhiles till broad day light in the morning. - -And questionlesse, being in his wounted drunken humour, hee hath lyen -with one of his sweet Consorts, about whose toe he found the thred, and -finding her as false to him, as he hath alwayes been to me: Did not -onely beat her, but also cut the haire from her head. And having not -yet recovered his sences, is verily perswaded, and cannot be altered -from it; but that hee performed all this villany to me. And if you doe -but advisedly observe his countenance, he appeareth yet to be more then -halfe drunke. - -But whatsoever he hath said concerning me, I make no account at all -thereof, because he spake it in his drunkennesse, and as freely as I -forgive him, even so (good Mother and kinde Brethren) let mee entreate -you to do the like. - -When the Mother had heard these words, and confidently beleeved her -Daughter: she began to torment her selfe with anger, saying. By the -faith of my body Daughter, this unkindnesse is not be endured, but -rather let the dogge be hanged, that his qualities may be knowne, he -being utterly unworthy, to have so good a woman to his wife, as thou -art. What could he have done more, if he had taken thee in the open -streete, and in company of some wanton Gallants? In an unfortunate -houre wast thou married to him, base jealous Coxecombe as he is, and it -is quite against sense, or reason, that thou shouldest be subject to -his fooleries. What was hee, but a Merchant of Eale-skinnes or Orenges; -bred in some paltry countrey village; taken from Hogge-rubbing; clothed -in Sheepes-Sattin, with Clownish Startops, Leather stockings, and -Caddies garters: His whole habite not worth three shillings: And yet he -must have a faire Gentlewoman to his Wife, of honest fame, riches and -reputation; when, comparing his pedegree with hers, hee is farre unfit -to wipe her shooes. - -Oh my deare Sonnes, I would you had followed my counsell, and permitted -her to match in the honourable family of _Count Guido_, which was much -mooved, and seriously pursued. But you would needs bestow her on this -goodly Jewell; who, although shee is one of the choysest beauties -in Florence, chaste, honest and truely vertuous: Is not ashamed at -midnight, to proclaime her for a common whore, as if we had no better -knowledge of her. But by the blessed mother of Saint _John_, if you -would be ruled by mine advise; our law should make him dearely smart -for it. - -Alas my sonnes, did I not tell you at home in our owne house, that his -words were no way likely to prove true? Have not your eyes observed his -unmannerly behaviour to your Sister? If I were as you are, hearing what -he hath said, and noting his drunken carriage beside; I should never -give over, as long as he had any life left in him. And were I a man, -as I am a woman; none other then my selfe should revenge her wrongs, -making him a publike spectacle to all drabbing drunkards. - -When the brethren had heard and observed all these occurrences; in -most bitter manner they railed on _Arriguccio_, bestowing some good -bastinadoes on him beside, concluding thus with him in the end. Quoth -one of them, Wee will pardon this shamefull abusing of our Sister, -because thou art a notorious drunkard: but looke to it (on perill of -thy life) that we have no more such newes hereafter; for, beleeve it -unfainedly, if any such impudent rumours happen to our eares, or so -much as a flying fame thereof; thou shalt surely be paide for both -faults together. - -So home againe went they, and _Arriguccio_ stood like one that had -neither life or motion, not knowing (whether what he had done) was -true, or no, or if he dreamed all this while, and so (without uttering -any word) he left his Wife, and went quietly to bed. Thus by her -wisdome, she did not onely prevent an imminent perill: but also made a -free and open passage, to further contentment with her amourous friend, -yet dreadlesse of any distaste or suspition in her Husband. - - - - -Lydia, _a Lady of great beauty, birth, and honor, being wife to_ -Nicostratus, _Governour of_ Argos, _falling in love with a Gentleman, -named_ Pyrrhus; _was requested by him (as a true testimony of her -unfeigned affection) to performe three severall actions of her selfe. -She did accomplish them all, and imbraced and kissed_ Pyrrhus _in the -presence of_ Nicostratus; _by perswading him, that whatsoever he saw, -was meerely false._ - -The Ninth Novell. - -_Wherein is declared, that great Lords may sometime be deceived by -their Wives, as well as men of meaner condition._ - - -The Novell delivered, by Madame _Neiphila_ seemed so pleasing to all -the Ladies; as they could not refraine from hearty laughter, beside -much liberality of speech. Albeit the King did oftentimes urge silence, -and commanded _Pamphilus_ to follow next. So, when attention was -admitted, _Pamphilus_ began in this order. I am of opinion, faire -Ladies, that there is not any matter, how uneasie or doubtfull soever -it may seeme to be; but the man or woman that affecteth fervently, -dare boldly attempt, and effectually accomplish. And this perswasion -of mine, although it hath beene sufficiently approved, by many of our -passed Novels: Yet notwithstanding, I shall make it much apparent to -you, by a present discourse of mine owne. Wherein I have occasion to -speake of a Lady, to whom Fortune was more favourable, then either -reason or judgement, could give direction. In which regard, I would -not advise any of you, to entertaine so high an imagination of minde, -as to tracke her footsteps of whom I am now to speake: because Fortune -containeth not alwayes one and the same disposition, neither can all -mens eyes be blinded after one manner. And so proceed we to our Tale. - -In _Argos_, a most ancient Citie of _Achaya_, much more renowned by -her precedent Kings, then wealth, or any other great matter of worth: -there lived as Lieutenant or Governour thereof, a Noble Lord, named -_Nicostratus_, on whom (albeit hee was well stept into yeares) Fortune -bestowed in a marriage a great Lady, no lesse bold of spirit, then -choisely beautifull. _Nicostratus_, abounding in treasure and wealthy -possessions, kept a goodly trains of Servants, Horses, Houndes, Hawkes, -and what else not, as having an extraordinary felicity in all kinds of -game, as singular exercises to maintaine his health. - -Among his other Servants and Followers, there was a yong Gentleman, -gracefull of person, excellent in speech, and every way as active -as no man could be more: his name _Pyrrhus_, highly affected of -_Nicostratus_, and more intimately trusted then all the rest. Such -seemed the perfections of this _Pyrrhus_, that _Lydia_ (for so was -the Lady named) began to affect him very earnestly, and in such sort, -as day or night shee could take no rest, but devised all meanes to -compasse her harts desire. Now, whether he observed this inclination of -her towards him, or else would take no notice thereof, it could not be -discerned by any outward apprehension: which moved the more impatiency -in her, & drove her hopes to dispairing passions. Wherein to finde some -comfort and ease, she called an ancient Gentlewoman of her Chamber, in -whom shee reposed especiall confidence, and thus she spake to her. - -_Lesca_, The good turnes and favours thou hast received from me, should -make thee faithfull and obedient to me: and therefore set a locke -uppon thy lippes, for revealing to any one whatsoever, such matters as -now I shall impart to thee; except it be to him that I command thee. -Thou perceivest _Lesca_, how youthfull I am, apt to all sprightly -recreations, rich, and abounding in all that a woman can wish to -have, in regard of Fortunes common & ordinary favours: yet I have one -especiall cause of complaint: namely, the inequality of my Mariage, my -Husband being over-ancient for me; in which regard, my youth finds it -selfe too highly wronged, being defeated of those duties and delights, -which women (farre inferiour to me) are continuallie cloyed withall, -and I am utterly deprived of. I am subject to the same desires they -are, and deserve to taste the benefit of them, in as ample manner, as -they do or can. - -Hitherto I have lived with the losse of time, which yet (in some -measure) may be releeved and recompenced: For, though Fortune were mine -enemy in Mariage, by such a disproportion of our conditions: yet she -may befriend in another nature, and kindely redeeme the injury done me. -Wherefore _Lesca_, to be as compleate in this case, as I am in all the -rest beside; I have resolved upon a private Friend, and one more worthy -then any other; Namely, my Servant _Pyrrhus_, whose youth carieth some -correspondency with mine; and so constantly have I setled my love -to him, as I am not well, but when I thinke on him, or see him: and -(indeede) shall dye, except the sooner I may enjoy him. And therefore, -if my life and well-fare be respected by thee, let him understand the -integrity of mine affection, by such good means as thou findest it most -expedient to be done: entreating him from me, that I may have some -conference with him, when he shall thereto be solicited by me. - -The Chamber-Gentlewoman _Lesca_, willingly undertooke the Ladies -Embassie; and so soone as opportunity did favor her: having withdrawne -_Pyrrhus_ into an apt and commodious place, shee delivered the Message -to him, in the best manner she could devise. Which _Pyrrhus_ hearing, -did not a little wonder thereat, never having noted any such matter; -and therefore sodainly conceyved, that the Lady did this onely to -try him; whereupon, somewhat roundly and roughly, hee returned this -answere. _Lesca_, I am not so simple, as to credite any such Message -to be sent from my Lady, and therefore be better advised of thy words. -But admit that it should come from her, yet I cannot be perswaded, that -her soule consented to such harsh Language, far differing from a forme -so full of beauty**. And yet admit againe, that her hart and tongue herein -were relatives: My Lord and Master hath so farre honoured mee, and so -much beyond the least part of merite in mee: as I will rather dye, then -any way offer to disgrace him: And therefore I charge thee, never more -to move mee in this matter. - -_Lesca_, not a jot danted at his stearne words, presently she saide. -_Pyrrhus_, Both in this and all other Messages my Lady shall command -me, I will speake to thee whensoever shee pleaseth, receive what -discontent thou canst thereby; or make presumption of what doubts -thou maist devise. But as I found thee a senselesse fellow, dull, -and not shaped to any understanding, so I leave thee: And in that -anger parted from him, carrying backe the same answer to her Lady. -She no sooner heard it, but instantly shee wished her selfe to be -dead; and within some few dayes after, she conferred againe with her -Chamber-woman, saying. _Lesca_, thou knowest well enough, that the Oxe -falleth not at the first blow of the Axe, neither is the victory won, -upon a silly and shallow adventure: Wherefore, I thinke it convenient, -that once more thou shouldst make another tryall of him, who (in -prejudice to me) standeth so strictly on his loyalty, and choosing -such an houre as seemeth most commodious, soundly possesse him with my -tormenting passions. Bestirre thy Wittes, and tippe thy tongue with a -Womans eloquence, to effect what I so earnestly desire: because, by -languishing in this love-sicke affliction, it well bee the danger of my -death, and some severe detriment to him, to be the occasion of so great -a losse. - -_Lesca_, comforted her Lady, so much as lay in her power to doe, and -having sought for _Pyrrhus_, whom she found at good leysure; and, in -a pleasing humour, thus she beganne. _Pyrrhus_, some few dayes since I -tolde thee, in what extreame Agonies thy Lady and mine was, onely in -regarde of her love to thee: and now againe I come once more, to give -thee further assurance thereof: Wherefore, beleeve it unfeignedly, -that if thy obstinacie continue still, in like manner as the other day -it did, expect very shortly to heare the tydings of her death. - -It is my part therefore, to entreat thee, to comfort her long -languishing desires: but if thou persist in thy harsh opinion, in stead -of reputing thee a wise and fortunate yong man, I shall confesse thee -to bee an ignoraunt Asse. What a glorie is it to thee, to be affected -of so faire and worthy a Lady, beyond all men else whatsoever? Next to -this, tell me, how highly maist thou confesse thy selfe beholding to -Fortune, if thou but duly consider, how shee hath elected thee as sole -soveraigne of her hopes, which is a crowne of honour to thy youth, and -a sufficient refuge against all wants and necessities? Where is any to -thy knowledge like thy selfe, that can make such advantage of his time, -as thou maist do, if thou wert wise? Where canst thou find any one to -go beyond thee in Armes, Horses, sumptuous garments, and Gold, as will -be heaped on thee, if _Lydia_ may be the Lady of thy love? Open then -thine understanding to my words, returne into thine owne soule, and bee -wise for thy selfe. - -Remember (_Pyrrhus_) that Fortune presents her selfe but once before -any one, with cheerefull lookes, and her lappe wide open of richest -favours, where if choice be not quickely made, before she folde it -up, and turn her backe: let no complaint afterward be made of her, -if the Fellow that had so faire an offer, proove to be miserable, -wretched, and a Beggar, only thorow his owne negligence. Beside, what -else hath formerly bin saide, there is now no such neede of loyaltie -in servants to their Ladies, as should be among deare Friends and -Kindred: but servants ought rather (as best they may) be such to their -Masters, as they are to them. Doest thou imagine, that if thou hadst -a faire Wife, Mother, Daughter, or Sister, pleasing in the eye of our -_Nicostratus_; he would stand on such nice tearmes of duty or Loyaltie, -as now thou doest to his Ladie? Thou wert a verie foole to rest so -perswaded. Assure thy selfe, that if entreaties and faire meanes might -not prevaile, force, and compulsion (whatsoever ensued thereon) woulde -winne the masterie. Let us then use them, and the commodities unto them -belonging, as they would us and ours. Use the benefit of thy Fortune, -& beware of abusing her favour. She yet smiles on thee; but take heede -least she turne her backe, it will then be over-late to repent thy -folly. And if my Ladie die through thy disdaine, be assured, that thou -canst not escape with life, beside open shame and disgrace for ever. - -_Pyrrhus_, who had often considered on _Lescaes_ first message, -concluded with himselfe; that if any more she moved the same matter: -hee would returne her another kinde of answere, wholly yeelding to -content his Lady; provided, that he might remaine assured, concerning -the intyre truth of the motion, and that it was not urged onely to -trie him, wherefore, thus he replyed. _Lesca_, do not imagine mee so -ignorant, as not to know the certaintie of all thy former allegations, -confessing them as freely as thou doest, or canst. But yet let mee -tell thee withall, that I knowe my Lord to be wise and judicious, and -having committed all his affaires to my care and trust: never blame mee -to misdoubt; least my Ladie (by his counsell and advice) make thee the -messenger of this motion, thereby to call my Fidelitie in question. - -To cleare which doubt, and for my further assurance of her well meaning -toward me; if she will undertake the performance of three such things -as I must needes require in this case: I am afterward her owne, in any -service she can command me. The first of them, is, that in the presence -of my Lord and Master, she kill his faire Faulcon, which so dearly hee -affecteth. The second, to send me a locke or tuft of his beard, being -puld away with her owne hand. The third and last, with the same hand -also, to pluck out one of his best and soundest teeth, and send it -mee as her loves true token. When I finde all these three effectually -performed, I am wholly hers, & not before. - -These three strict impositions, seemed to _Lesca_, and her Ladie -likewise, almost beyond the compasse of all possibility. Nevertheles -Love, being a powerfull Oratour in perswading, as also adventurous even -on the most difficult dangers; gave her courage to undertake them all: -sending _Lesca_ backe againe to him, with full assurance, of these -more then _Herculean_ labours. Moreover, her selfe did intend to adde -a fourth taske, in regard of his strong opinion concerning the great -Wisedome of his Lord and Maister. After she had effected all the other -three, she would not permit him to kisse her, but before his Lords -face: which yet should be accomplished in such sort, as _Nicostratus_ -himselfe should not beleeve it, although apparantly he saw it. Well, -(quoth _Pyrrhus_) when all these wonders are performed, assure my -Ladie, that I am truelie hers. - -Within a short while after, _Nicostratus_ made a solemne Feastivall -(according as yearely he used to doe) in honour of his birth day, -inviting many Lords and Ladies thereto. On which rejoycing day, so -soone as dinner was ended, and the Tables withdrawne: _Lydia_ came -into the great Hall, where the Feast was solemnly kept; very rich and -costly apparrelled; and there, in presence of _Pyrrhus_, and the whole -assemblie, going to the Perch whereon the Faulcone sate, wherein her -Husband tooke no little delight, and having untyed her, as if shee -meant to beare her on her Fist: tooke her by the Jesses, and beating -her against the wal, killed her. _Nicostratus_ beholding this, called -out aloud unto her, saying. Alas Madame! what have you done? She making -him no answere, but turning to the Lords and Ladies, which had dined -there, spake in this manner. - -Ill should I take revenge on a King, that had offended me, if I had not -so much heart, as to wreake my spleene on a paltry Hawke. Understand -then, worthy Lords and Ladies, that this Faulcone hath long time -robbed me of those delights, which men (in meere equitie) ought to -have with their wives: because continually, so soone as breake of day -hath appeared, my Husband, starting out of bed, makes himselfe readie, -presently to Horsse, and with this Faulcon on his Fist, rides abroad -to his recreation in the Fields. And I, in such forsaken sort as you -see, am left all alone in my bed, discontented and despised: often -vowing to my selfe, to bee thus revenged as now I am, being with-held -from it by no other occasion, but onely want of a fit and apt time, to -do it in the presence of such persons, as might bee just Judges of my -wrongs, and as I conceive you all to be. - -The Lords and Ladies hearing these words, and beleeving this deed -of hers to be done no otherwise, but out of her entire affection to -_Nicostratus_, according as her speeches sounded: compassionately -turning towards him (who was exceedingly displeased) and all smiling, -said. Now in good sadnesse Sir; Madame _Lydia_ hath done well, in -acting her just revenge upon the Hawke, that bereft her of her Husbands -kinde companie; then which nothing is more precious to a loving wife, -and a hell it is to live without it. And _Lydia_, being sodainly -withdrawne into her chamber; with much other friendly and familiar -talke, they converted the anger of _Nicostratus_ into mirth and smiling. - -_Pyrrhus_, who had diligently observed the whole cariage of this -businesse, saide to himselfe. My Ladie hath begun well, and proceeding -on with no worse successe, will (no doubt) bring her love to an happy -conclusion. As for the Lady her selfe, she having thus kild the -Hawke, it was no long while after, but being in the Chamber with her -husband, and they conversing familiarly together: she began to jest -with him, & hee in the like manner with her, tickling and toying each -the other, till at the length she played with his beard, and now she -found occasion aptly serving, to effect the second taske imposed by -_Pyrrhus_. So, taking fast hold on a small tuft of his beard, she gave -a sodaine snatch, and plucked it away quite from his chin. Whereat -_Nicostratus_ beeing angerly moved, she (to appease his distaste) -pleasantly thus spake. How now my Lord? Why do you looke so frowningly? -What? Are you angry for a few loose haires of your beard? How then -should I take it, when you plucke mee by the haire of my head, and yet -I am not a jot discontented, because I know you do it but in jesting -manner? These friendly speeches cut off all further contention, and -she kepte charily the tuft of her Husbands beard, which (the verie -selfe-same day) shee sent to _Pyrrhus_ her hearts chosen friend. - -But now concerning the third matter to be adventured, it drove her -to a much more serious consideration, then those two which shee had -already so well and exactly performed. Notwithstanding, like a Ladie of -unconquerable spirit, and (in whom) Love enlarged his power more and -more: she sodainly conceited, what course was best to bee kept in this -case, forming her attempt in this manner. Upon _Nicostratus_ wayted -two young Gentlemen, as Pages of his Chamber, whose Fathers had given -them to his service, to learne the manners of honourable Courtship, and -those qualities necessarily required in Gentlemen. One of them, when -_Nicostratus_ sate downe to dinner or supper, stood in Office of his -Carver, delivering him all the meats whereon he fed. The other (as -Taster) attended on his Cup, and he dranke no other drinke, but what -hee brought him, and they both were highly pleasing unto him. - -On a day, _Lydia_ called these two youths aside; and, among some other -speeches, which served but as an induction to her intended policy; she -perswaded them, that their mouths yeelded an unsavoury & ill-pleasing -smell, whereof their Lord seemed to take dislike. Wherefore she advised -them, that at such times as they attended on him in their severall -places: they should (so much as possibly they could) withdraw their -heads aside from him, because their breath might not be noyous unto -him. But withall, to have an especiall care, of not disclosing to -any one, what she had told them; because (out of meere love) she -had acquainted them therewith: which very constantly they beleeved, -and followed the same direction as she had advised, being loath to -displease, where service bound them to obey. Choosing a time fitting -for her purpose, when _Nicostratus_ was in private conference with her, -thus she began. Sir, you observe not the behaviour of your two pages, -when they wait on you at the Table? Yes but I do wife (quoth he) how -squemishly they turn their heads aside from me, and it hath often bin -in my minde, to understand a reason why they do so. - -Seating herselfe by him, as if shee had some weighty matter to tell -him; she proceeded in this manner. Alas my Lord, you shall not need -to question them, because I can sufficiently resolve you therein: -which (neverthelesse) I have long concealed, because I would not be -offensive to you. But in regard, it is now manifestly apparant, that -others have tasted, what (I immagined) none but my selfe did, I will -no longer hide it from you. Assuredly Sir, there is a most strange and -unwonted ill-savour, continually issuing from your mouth, smelling most -noysomely, and I wonder what should be the occasion. In former times, -I never felt any such foule breathing to come from you: and you, who -do daily converse with so many worthy persons, should seeke meanes to -be rid of so great an annoyance. You say verie true wife (answered -_Nicostratus_) and I protest to you on my Credite, I feele no such ill -smell, neither know what should cause it, except I have some corrupted -tooth in my mouth. Perhaps Sir (quoth she) it may be so, and yet you -feele not the savour which others do, yea, very offensively. - -So, walking with her to a Window, he opened wide his mouth, the which -nicely shee surveyed on either side, and, turning her head from him, -as seeming unable to endure the savour: starting, and shrieking out -alowd, she said. Santa Maria! What a sight is this? Alas my good Lord, -How could you abide this, and for so long a while? Heere is a tooth on -this side, which (so farre as I can perceive) is not onely hollow and -corrupted: but also wholly putrified and rotten, and if it continue -still in your head, beleeve it for a truth, that it will infect and -spoile all the rest neere it. I would therefore counsell you, to let -it be pluckt out, before it breede your further danger. I like your -counsell well _Lydia_, replyed _Nicostratus_, and presently intend -to follow it; Let therefore my Barber be sent for, and, without any -longer delay, he shall plucke it forth instantly. - -How Sir? (quoth she,) your Barber? Uppon mine Honour, there shall come -no Barber heere. Why Sir, it is such a rotten Tooth, and standeth so -fairely for my hand: that, without helpe or advice of any Barber, let -mee alone for plucking it forth, without putting you to any paine at -all. Moreover, let me tell you Sir, those Tooth-drawers are so rude and -cruell, in performing such Offices, as my heart cannot endure, that you -should come within compasse of their currish courtesie, neither shall -you Sir, if you will be ruled by me. If I should faile in the manner of -their facilitie, yet love & duty hath enstructed me, to forbeare your -least paining, which no unmannerly Barber will do. - -Having thus spoken, and he well contented with her kinde offer, the -instruments were brought, which are used in such occasions, all being -commanded forth of the Chamber, but onely _Lesca_, who evermore kept -still in her company. So, locking fast the doore, and _Nicostratus_ -being seated, as she thought fittest for her purpose, she put the -Tanacles into his mouth, catching fast hold on one of his soundest -teeth: which, notwithstanding his loud crying, _Lesca_ held him so -strongly, that forth she pluckt it, and hid it, having another tooth -readie made hot & bloody, very much corrupted and rotten, which she -helde in the Tanacles, and shewed to him, who was well-neere halfe dead -with anguish. See Sir (quoth she) was this Tooth to be suffered in your -head, and to yeeld so foule a smell as it did? He verily beleeving what -she said, albeit hee had endured extreame paine, and still complained -on her harsh and violent pulling it out: rejoyced yet, that he was now -ridde of it, and she comforting him on the one side, and the anguish -asswaging him on the other, he departed forth of the Chamber. - -In the mean while, by _Lesca_ she sent the sound tooth to _Pyrrhus_, -who (wondering not a little at her so many strange attempts; which hee -urged so much the rather, as thinking their performance impossible, -and, in meere loyall duty to his Lord) seeing them all three to be -notably effected; he made no further doubt of her intire love towardes -him, but sent her assurance likewise, of his readinesse and serviceable -diligence, whensoever she would command him. - -Now, after the passage of all these adventures, hardly to bee -undertaken by any other Woman: yet she held them insufficient for -his security, in the grounded perswasion of her love to him, except -shee performed another of her owne, and according as shee had boldly -promised. Houres do now seeme dayes, and dayes multiplicitie of -yeeres, till the kisse may be given, and receyved in the presence of -_Nicostratus_, yet hee himselfe to avouch the contrary. - -Madam _Lydia_ (upon a pretended sicknesse) keepeth her chamber, and -as women can hardly be exceeded in dissimulation: so, shee wanted no -wit, to seeme exquisitely cunning, in all the outwarde apparances of -sicknesse. One day after dinner, shee being visited by _Nicostratus_, -and none attending on him but _Pyrrhus_ onely: she earnestly entreated, -that as a mitigation, to some inward afflictions which she felt, they -would helpe to guide her into the Garden. - -Most gladly was her motion graunted, and _Nicostratus_ gently taking -her by one arme, and _Pyrrhus_ by the other, so they conducted her into -the Garden, seating her in a faire floury Grasse-plot, with her backe -leaning to a Peare-tree. Having sitten there an indifferent while, -and _Pyrrhus_, being formerly enstructed, in the directions which she -had given him, thus shee spake, some-what faintly. _Pyrrhus_, I have -a kinde of longing desire upon a sodaine, to taste of these Peares: -Wherefore, climbe up into the Tree, and cast me downe one or two; which -instantly hee did. Being aloft in the Tree, and throwing downe some of -the best and ripest Peares; at length (according to his premeditated -Lesson) looking downe, he said. - -Forbeare my Lord, Do you not see, in how weake and feeble condition my -Ladie is, being shaken with so violent a sicknesse? And you Madam, how -kinde and loving soever you are to my Lord, Are you so little carefull -of your health, being but now come forth of your sicke Chamber, to be -ruffled and tumbled in such rough manner? Though such dalliances are -not amisse in you both; being fitter for the private Chamber, then -an open garden, and in the presence of a servant: yet time and place -should alwaies bee respectively considered, for the avoiding of ill -example, and better testimonie of your owne Wisedomes, which ever -should be like your selves. But if so soone, and even in the heate of -a yet turbulent sickenesse, your equall love can admit these kisses -and embraces: your private Lodginges were much more convenient, where -no Servants eye can see such Wantonnesse, nor you be reproved of -indiscretion, for being too publique in your Familiaritie. - -Madame _Lydia_, sodainely starting, and turning unto her Husband, -sayde. What doth _Pyrrhus_ prate? Is he well in his wittes? Or is -he franticke? No Madame, replyed _Pyrrhus_, I am not franticke. Are -you so fond as to thinke that I do not see your folly? _Nicostratus_ -wondering at his Words, presently answered. Now trust me _Pyrrhus_, -I think thou dreamest. No my Lord, replyed _Pyrrhus_, I dreame not a -jot, neither do you, or my Ladie: but if this Tree could affoord the -like kindnesse to me, as you do to her, there would not a Peare bee -left uppon it. How now _Pyrrhus_? (quoth _Lydia_) this language goeth -beyond our understanding, it seemeth thou knowest not what thou saist. -Beleeve me husband, if I were as well as ever I have bin, I would climb -this tree, to see those idle wonders which hee talketh of: for, while -he continueth thus above, it appeareth, hee can finde no other prattle, -albeit he taketh his marke amisse. - -Heereupon, he commanded _Pyrrhus_ to come downe, and being on the -ground: Now _Pyrrhus_ (quoth he) tell me what thou saydst. _Pyrrhus_, -pretending an alteration into much amazement, straungely looking about -him, saide; I know not verie well (my Lord) what answere I should make -you, fearing least my sight hath bin abused by error: for when I was -aloft in that Tree, it seemed manifestly to me: that you embraced my -Lady (though somewhat rudely, in regard of her perillous sicknesse, -yet lovingly) and as youthfully as in your yonger daies, with infinite -kisses, and wanton dalliances, such as (indeede) deserved a far more -private place in my poore opinion. But in my descending downe, mee -thought you gave over that amorous familiaritie, and I found you seated -as I left you. Now trust mee _Pyrrhus_, answered _Nicostratus_, Thy -tongue and wit have very strangely wandred, both from reason and all -reall apprehension: because we never stirred from hence, since thou -didst climbe up into the Tree, neither mooved otherwise, then as now -thou seest us. Alas my Lord (saide _Pyrrhus_) I humbly crave pardon for -my presumption, in reprooving you for medling with your owne: which -shall make me hereafter better advised, in any thing what soever I heare -or see. - -Mervaile and amazement, encreased in _Nicostratus_ far greater then -before, hearing him to avouch still so constantly what he had seene, -no contradiction being able to alter him, which made him rashly sweare -and say. I will see my selfe, whether this Peare-tree bee enchanted, -or no: and such wonders to be seene when a man is up in it, as thou -wouldst have us to beleeve. And being mounted up so hy, that they were -safe from his sodaine comming on them, _Lydia_ had soone forgotten her -sicknes, and the promised kisse cost her above twenty more, beside -verie kinde and hearty embraces, as lovingly respected and entertained -by _Pyrrhus_. Which _Nicostratus_ beholding aloft in the tree; cryed -out to her, saying. Wicked woman, What doest thou meane? And thou -villain _Pyrrhus_, Darst thou abuse thy Lord, who hath reposed so much -trust in thee? So, descending in haste downe againe, yet crying so to -them still: _Lydia_ replyed, Alas my Lord, Why do you raile and rave in -such sort? So, hee found her seated as before, and _Pyrrhus_ waiting -with dutifull reverence, even as when he climbed up the Tree: but yet -he thought his sight not deceyved, for all their demure and formall -behaviour, which made him walke up and downe, extreamely fuming and -fretting unto himselfe, and which in some milder manner to qualifie, -_Pyrrhus_ spake thus to him. - -I deny not (my good Lord) but freely confesse, that even as your selfe, -so I, being above in the Tree, had my sight most falsely deluded: which -is so apparantly confirmed by you, and in the same sort, as there -needeth no doubt of both our beguiling; in one and the same suspitious -nature. In which case to be the more assuredly resolved, nothing can -be questioned, but whether your beleefe do so farre misleade you, as -to thinke, that my Ladie (who hath alwayes bene most wise, loyall, -and vertuous,) would so shamefullie wrong you: yea, and to performe -it before your face, wherein I dare gadge my life to the contrary. -Concerning my selfe, it is not fit for mee, to argue or contest in -mine owne commendation: you that have ever knowne the sincerity of my -service, are best able to speake in my behalfe: and rather wold I be -drawne in peeces with foure wilde horses, then bee such an injurious -slave to my Lord and Master. - -Now then, it can be no otherwise, but we must needs rest certainely -perswaded, that the guile and offence of this false appearance, was -occasioned by thee onely. For all the world could not make me otherwise -beleeve, but that I saw you kisse and most kindely imbrace my Lady: -if your owne eyes had not credited the like behaviour in me to her, -of which sinne, I never conceived so much as a thought. The Lady (on -the other side) seeming to be very angerly incensed, starting faintly -upon her feet, yet supporting her selfe by the tree, said. It appeareth -Sir, that you have entertained a goodly opinion of me as, if I were so -lewde and lasciviously disposed, or addicted to the very least desire -of wantonnesse: that I would bee so forgetfull of mine owne honour, as -to adventure it in your sight, and with a servant of my house? Oh Sir, -such women as are so familiarly affected, need learne no wit of men in -amourous matters; their private Chambers shall be better trusted, then -an open blabing and tell-tale Garden. - -_Nicostratus_, who verily beleeved what they had both said, and that -neither of them would adventure such familiarity before his face: -would talke no more of the matter, but rather studyed of the rarity of -such a miracle, not seene, but in the height of the tree, and changing -againe upon the descent. But _Lydia_, containing still her collourable -kinde of impatience, and angerly frowning upon _Nicostratus_, stearnely -saide. If I may have my will, this villanous and deceiving tree, shall -never more shame me, or any other woman: and therefore _Pyrrhus_, runne -for an Axe, and by felling it to the ground, in an instant, revenge -both thy wrong and mine. Doest not thou serve a worthy Lord? And have -not I a wise Husband, who, without any consideration, will suffer the -eye of his understanding to be so dazeled, with a foolish imagination -beyond all possibility? For, although his eyes did apprehend such a -folly, and it seemed to be a truth indeed: yet, in the depth of setled -judgement, all the world should not perswade him, that it was so. - -_Pyrrhus_ had quickely brought the Axe, and hewing downe the tree, so -soone as the Lady saw it fall; turning her selfe to _Nicostratus_, she -said. Now that I have seene mine honour and honesties enemy laid along; -mine anger is past, and Husband, I freely pardon you: intreating you -heartily henceforward, not to presume or imagine, that my love eyther -is, or can bee altred from you. - -Thus the mocked and derided _Nicostratus_, returned in againe with his -Lady and _Pyrrhus_; where perhaps (although the Peare-tree was cut -downe) they could find as cunning meanes to over-reach him. - - - - -_Two Citizens of_ Siena, _the one named_ Tingoccio Mini, _& the other_ -Meucio di Tora, _affected both one woman, called_ Monna Mita, _to whom -the one of them was a Gossip. The Gossip dyed, and appeared afterward -to his companion, according as he had formerly promised him to doe, and -tolde him what strange wonders he had seene in the other world._ - -The Tenth Novell. - -_Wherein such men are covertly reprehended, who make no care or -conscience at all of those things that should preserve them from sinne._ - - -Now there remained none but the King himselfe, last of all to recount -his Novell; who, after hee heard the Ladies complaints indifferently -pacified, for the rash felling downe of such a precious Peare-tree; -thus he began. Faire Ladies, it is a case more then manifest, that -every King, who will be accounted just and upright: should first of -all, and rather then any other, observe those Lawes which he himselfe -hath made; otherwise he ought to be reputed as a servant, worthy of -punishment, and no King. Into which fault and reprehension, I your -King, shall well neere be constrained to fall; for yesterday I enacted -a Law, upon the forme of our discoursing, with full intent, that this -day I would not use any part of my priviledge; but being subject (as -you all are) to the same Law, I should speake of that argument, which -already you have done. - -Wherein, you have not onely performed more then I could wish, upon a -subject so sutable to my minde: but in every Novell, such variety of -excellent matter, such singular illustrations, and delicate eloquence -hath flowne from you all; as I am utterly unable to invent any thing -(notwithstanding the most curious search of my braine) apt or fit -for the purpose, to paragon the meanest of them already related. -And therefore seeing I must needs sinne in the Law established by -my selfe; I tender my submission, as worthy of punishment, or what -amends else you please to enjoyne mee. Now, as returned to my wonted -priviledge, I say, that the Novell recounted by Madame _Eliza_, of the -Fryar Godfather and his Gossip _Agnesia_, as also the sottishnesse -of the _Senese_ her Husband, hath wrought in me (worthy Ladies) to -such effect; as, forbearing to speake any more of these wily prancks, -which witty wives exercise on their simple Husbands; I am to tell you -a pretty short Tale; which, though there is matter enough in it, not -worthy the crediting, yet partly it will bee pleasing to heare. - -Sometime there lived in _Sienna_ two popular men; the one being named -_Tingoccio Mini_ and the other _Meucio de Tora_; Men simple, and of -no understanding, both of them dwelling in _Porta Salaia_. These two -men lived in such familiar conversation together, and expressed such -cordiall affection each to other, as they seldome walked asunder; but -(as honest men use to doe) frequented Churches and Sermons, oftentimes -hearing, both what miseries and beatitudes were in the world to come, -according to the merits of their soules that were departed out of this -life, and found their equall repaiment in the other. The manifold -repetition of these matters, made them very earnestly desirous to know, -by what meanes they might have tydings from thence, for their further -confirmation. And finding all their endeavours utterly frustrated, they -made a solemne vow and promise (each to other under oath) that hee -which first dyed of them two, should returne backe againe (so soone -as possibly he could) to the other remaining alive, and tell him such -tydings as hee desired to heare. - -After the promise was thus faithfully made, and they still keeping -company, as they were wont to doe: It fortuned, that _Tingoccio_ became -Gossip to one, named _Ambrosito Anselmino_, dwelling in _Camporeggio_, -who by his wife, called _Monna Mita_, had a sweet and lovely Sonne. -_Tingoccio_ often resorting thither, and consorted with his companion -_Meucio_; the she-Gossip, being a woman worthy the loving, faire and -comely of her person: _Tingoccio_, notwithstanding the Gossipship -betweene them, had more then a moneths minde to his Godchilds Mother. -_Meucio_ also fell sicke of the same disease, because shee seemed -pleasing in his eye, and _Tingoccio_ gave her no meane commendations; -yet, carefully they concealed their love to themselves, but not for one -& the same occasion. Because _Tingoccio_ kept it closely from _Meucio_, -lest he should hold it disgracefull in him, to beare amourous affection -to his Gossip, and thought it unfitting to bee knowne. But _Meucio_ -had no such meaning, for hee knew well enough that _Tingoccio_ loved -her, and therefore conceived in his minde, that if he discovered any -such matter to him: He will (quoth he) be jealous of me, and being -her Gossip, which admitteth his conference with her when himselfe -pleaseth; he may easily make her to distaste me, and therefore I must -rest contented as I am. - -Their love continuing on still in this kinde, _Tingoccio_ prooved -so fortunate in the businesse, that having better meanes then his -companion, and more prevayling courses, when, where, and how to Court -his Mistresse, which seemed to forward him effectually. All which -_Meucio_ plainely perceived, and though it was tedious and wearisome -to him, yet hoping to finde some successe at length: he would not -take notice of any thing, as fearing to infringe the amity betweene -him and _Tingoccio_, and so his hope to be quite supplanted. Thus the -one triumphing in his loves happinesse, and the other hoping for his -felicity to come; a lingaring sickenesse seazed on _Tingoccio_, which -brought him to so low a condition, as at the length he dyed. - -About some three or foure nights after, _Meucio_ being fast asleepe -in his bed, the ghoste of _Tingoccio_ appeared to him, and called so -loude, that _Meucio_ awaking, demanded who called him? I am thy friend -_Tingoccio_, replied the ghoste, who according to my former promise -made, am come again in vision to thee, to tell thee tidings out of the -nether world. _Meucio_ was a while somewhat amazed; but, recollecting -his more manly spirits together, boldly he said. My brother and friend, -thou art heartily welcome: but I thought thou hadst beene utterly lost. -Those things (quoth _Tingoccio_) are lost, which cannot be recovered -againe, and if I were lost, how could I then be heere with thee? Alas -_Tingoccio_, replyed _Meucio_, my meaning is not so: but I would be -resolved, whether thou art among the damned soules, in the painefull -fire of hell torments, or no? No (quoth _Tingoccio_) I am not sent -thither, but for divers sinnes by mee committed I am to suffer very -great and grievous paines. Then _Meucio_ demaunded particularly, the -punishments inflicted there, for the severall sinnes committed heere: -Wherein _Tingoccio_ fully resolved him. And upon further question, what -hee would have to be done for him here, made answere, That _Meucio_ -should cause Masses, Prayers and Almes deeds to be performed for him, -which (he said) were very helpefull to the soules abiding there, and -_Meucio_ promised to see them done. - -As the ghost was offering to depart, _Meucio_ remembred _Tingoccioes_ -Gossip _Monna Mita_, and raysing himselfe higher upon his pillowe, -said. My memorie informeth me, friend _Tingoccio_, of your kinde Gossip -_Monna Mita_, with whom (when you remained in this life) I knew you to -be very familiar: let me intreat you then to tell me, what punishment -is inflicted on you there, for that wanton sinne committed heere? Oh -Brother _Meucio_, answered _Tingoccio_, so soone as my soule was landed -there, one came immediately to me, who seemed to know all mine offences -readily by heart, and forthwith commanded, that I should depart thence -into a certaine place, where I must weepe for my sinnes in very -grievous paines. There I found more of my companions, condemned to -the same punishment as I was, and being among them, I called to minde -some wanton dalliances, which had passed betweene my Gossip and me, -and expecting therefore farre greater afflictions, then as yet I felt -(although I was in a huge fire, and exceedingly hot) yet with conceite -of feare, I quaked and trembled wondrously. - -One of my other Consorts being by me, and perceiving in what an -extreame agony I was; presently said unto me. My friend, what hast -thou done more, then any of us here condemned with thee, that thou -tremblest and quakest, being in so hot a fire? Oh my friend (quoth I) -I am in feare of a greater judgement then this, for a grievous offence -by mee heretofore committed while I lived. Then hee demaunded of mee -what offence it was, whereto thus I answered. It was my chance in the -other world, to be Godfather at a childs Christning, and afterward I -grew so affectionate to the childs mother, as (indeed) I kissed her -twice or thrise. My companyon laughing at me in mocking manner, replyed -thus. Goe like an Asse as thou art, and be no more afraid hereafter, -for here is no punishment inflicted, in any kinde whatsoever, for such -offences of frailty committed, especially with Gossips, as I my selfe -can witnesse. - -Now day drew on, and the Cockes began to crow, a dreadfull hearing -to walking spirits, when _Tingoccio_ said to _Meucio_. Farewell my -friendly companion, for I may tarry no longer with thee, and instantly -hee vanished away. _Meucio_ having heard this confession of his friend, -and verily beleeving it for a truth, that no punishment was to be -inflicted in the future world, for offences of frailty in this life, -and chiefly with Gossips: began to condemne his owne folly, having bin -a Gossip to many wives, yet modesty restrained him from such familiar -offending. And therefore being sorry for this grosse ignorance, hee -made a vowe to be wiser hereafter. And if Fryar _Reynard_ had been -acquainted with this kind of shrift (as doubtlesse he was, though his -Gossip _Agnesia_ knew it not) he needed no such Syllogismes, as he -put in practise, when he converted her to his lustfull knavery, in -the comparison of kinred by him moved, concerning her husband, the -childe and himselfe. But, these are the best fruits of such Fryerly -Confessions, to compasse the issue of their inordinate appetites; yet -clouded with the cloake of Religion, which hath beene the overthrow of -too many. - - * * * * * - -By this time the gentle blast of _Zephirus_ began to blow, because the -Sunne grew neere his setting, wherewith the King concluded his Novell, -and none remaining more to be thus imployed: taking the Crowne from off -his owne head, he placed it on Madame _Laurettaes_, saying, Madame, I -Crowne you with your owne Crowne, as Queene of our Company. You shall -henceforth command as Lady and Mistresse, in such occasions as shall -be to your liking, and for the contentment of us all; With which words -he set him downe. And Madame _Lauretta_ being now created Queene, shee -caused the Master of the houshold to bee called, to whom she gave -command, that the Tables should be prepared in the pleasant vally, but -at a more convenient houre, then formerly had beene, because they might -(with better ease) returne backe to the Pallace. Then shee tooke order -likewise, for all such other necessary matters, as should bee required -in the time of her Regiment: and then turning her selfe to the whole -Company, she began in this manner. - -It was the Will of _Dioneus_ yesternight, that our discourses for this -day, should concerne the deceits of wives to their Husbands. And were -it not to avoyde taxation, of a spleenitive desire to be revenged, -like the dog being bitten, biteth againe: I could command our to -morrows conference, to touch mens treacheries towards their wives. But -because I am free from any such fiery humour, let it be your generall -consideration, to speake of such queint beguylings, as have heretofore -past, either of the woman to the man, the man to the woman, or of one -man to another: and I am of opinion, that they will yeeld us no lesse -delight, then those related (this day) have done. When she had thus -spoken, she rose; granting them all liberty, to goe recreate themselves -untill Supper time. - -The Ladies being thus at their owne disposing, some of them bared their -legges and feete, to wash them in the coole current. Others, not so -minded, walked on the greene grasse, and under the goodly spreading -trees. _Dioneus_ and Madame _Fiammetta_, they sate singing together, -the love-warre betweene _Arcit_ and _Palemon_. And thus with diversity -of disports, in choice delight and much contentment, all were imployed, -till Supper drew neere. When the houre was come, and the Tables covered -by the Ponds side: we need not question their dyet and dainties, -infinite Birds sweetly singing about them, as no musicke in the world -could be more pleasing; beside calme windes, fanning their faces from -the neighbouring hilles (free from flyes, or the least annoyance) made -a delicate addition to their pleasure. - -No sooner were the Tables withdrawne, and all risen: but they fetcht a -few turnings about the vally, because the Sunne was not (as yet) quite -set. Then in the coole evening, according to the Queenes appointment: -in a soft and gentle pace, they walked homeward: devising on a thousand -occasions, as well those which the dayes discourses had yeelded, as -others of their owne inventing beside. It was almost darke night, -before they arrived at the Pallace; where, with variety of choice -Wines, and abounding plenty of rare Banquetting, they out-wore the -little toile and wearinesse, which the long walke had charged them -withall. Afterward, according to their wonted order, the Instruments -being brought and played on, they fell to dancing about the faire -Fountaine; _Tindaro_ intruding (now and then) the sound of his Bagpipe, -to make the musicke seeme more melodious. But in the end, the Queene -commanded Madame _Philomena_ to sing; whereupon the Instruments being -tuned fit for the purpose, thus she began. - - The Song. - - The Chorus Sung by the whole Company. - - _Wearisome is my life to me, - Because I cannot once againe returne; - Unto the place which made me first to mourne._ - - _Nothing I know, yet feele a powerfull fire, - Burning within my brest, - Through deepe desire; - To be once more where first I felt unrest, - Which cannot be exprest. - O my sole good! O my best happinesse! - Why am I thus restrainde? - Is there no comfort in this wretchednesse? - Then let me live content, to be thus painde. - Wearisome is my life to me, &c._ - - _I cannot tell what was that rare delight, - Which first enflamde my soule, - And gave command in spight, - That I should find no ease by day or night, - But still live in controule. - I see, I heare, and feele a kinde of blisse, - Yet find no forme at all: - Other in their desire, finde blessednesse, - But I have none, nor thinke I ever shall. - Wearisome is my life to me, &c._ - - _Tell me if I may hope in following dayes, - To have but one poore sight, - Of those bright Sunny rayes, - Dazeling my sence, did o'recome me quite, - Bequeath'd to wandring wayes. - If I be posted off and may not prove. - To have the smallest grace: - Or but to know, that this proceeds from love, - Why should I live despisde in every place? - Wearisome is my life to me, &c._ - - _Me thinkes milde favour whispers in mine eare, - And bids me not despaire; - There will a time appeare - To quell and quite confound consuming care, - And joy surmount proud feare. - In hope that gracious time will come at length, - To cheare my long dismay: - My spirits reassume your former strength, - And never dread to see that joyfull day. - Wearisome is my life to me, - Because I cannot once againe returne; - Unto the place which made me first to mourne._ - -This Song gave occasion to the whole Company, to imagine, that some new -and pleasing apprehension of Love, constrained Madame _Philomena_ to -sing in this manner. And because (by the discourse thereof) it plainely -appeared, that shee had felt more then shee saw, shee was so much the -more happy, and the like was wished by all the rest. Wherefore, after -the Song was ended; the Queene remembring, that the next day following -was Friday, turning her selfe graciously to them all, thus she spake. - -You know noble Ladies, and you likewise most noble Gentlemen, that to -morrow is the day consecrated to the Passion of our blessed Lord and -Saviour, which (if you have not forgotten it, as easily you cannot) -we devoutly celebrated, Madame _Neiphila_ being then Queene, ceasing -from all our pleasant discoursing, as we did the like on the Saturday -following, sanctifying the sacred Sabboth, in due regard of it selfe. -Wherefore, being desirous to imitate precedent good example, which -in worthy manner shee began to us all: I hold it very decent and -necessary, that we should asttaine to morrow, and the day ensuing, from -recounting any of our pleasant Novels, reducing to our memories, what -was done (as on those dayes) for the salvation of our soules. This holy -and Religious motion made by the Queene, was commendably allowed by -all the assembly, and therefore, humbly taking their leave of her, and -an indifferent part of the night being already spent; severally they -betooke themselves to their Chambers. - - -_The end of the Seaventh day._ - - - - -THE EIGHT DAY. - -Whereon all the Discourses, passe under the Rule and Government, of the -Honourable Ladie LAURETTA. And the Argument imposed, is, Concerning -such Wittie deceyvings; as have, or may be put in practise, by Wives to -their Husbands; Husbands to their Wives: Or one man towards another. - -The Induction. - - -Earely on the Sonday Morning, _Aurora_ shewing her selfe bright and -lovely; the Sunnes Golden beames beganne to appeare, on the toppes -of the neere adjoyning Mountaines; so, that Hearbes, Plants, Trees, -and all things else, were verie evidently to be discerned. The Queene -and her Companie, being all come foorth of their Chambers, and having -walked a while abroad, in the goodly greene Meadowes, to taste the -sweetnesse of the fresh and wholesome ayre, they returned backe againe -into the Palace, because it was their dutie so to do. - -Afterward, betweene the houres of seaven and eight, they went to heare -Masse, in a faire Chappell neere at hand, and thence returned to their -Lodgings. When they had dined merrily together, they fell to their -wonted singing and dauncing: Which beeing done, such as were so pleased -(by License of the Queene first obtained) went either to their rest, -or such exercises as they tooke most delight in. When midday, and the -heate thereof was well over-past, so that the aire seemed mild and -temperate: according as the Queene had commanded; they were all seated -againe about the Fountaine, with intent to prosecute their former -pastime. And then Madame _Neiphila_, by the charge imposed on her, as -first speaker for this day, beganne as followeth. - - - - -Gulfardo _made a match or wager, with the Wife of_ Gasparuolo, _for the -obtaining of her amorous favour, in regard of a summe of money first -to be given her. The money hee borrowed of her Husband, and gave it in -payment to her, as in case of discharging him from her Husbands debt. -After his returne home from_ Geneway, _hee told him in the presence -of his wife, how he had payde the whole summe to her, with charge of -delivering it to her Husband, which she confessed to be true, albeit -greatly against her will._ - -The First Novell. - -_Wherein is declared, that such women as will make sale of their -honestie, are sometimes over-reached in their payment, and justly -served as they should be._ - - -Seeing it is my fortune, Gracious Ladies, that I must give beginning to -this dayes discoursing, by some such Novel which I thinke expedient; as -duty bindeth me, I am therewith well contented. And because the deceits -of Women to men, have beene at large and liberally related; I will tell -you a subtile tricke of a man to a Woman. Not that I blame him for the -deede, or thinke the deceyte not well fitted to the woman: but I speake -it in a contrarie nature, as commending the man, and condemning the -woman very justly, as also to shew, how men can as well beguile those -crafty companions, which least beleeve any such cunning in them, as -they that stand most on their artificiall skill. - -Howbeit, to speake more properly, the matter by me to be reported, -deserveth not the reproachfull title of deceite, but rather of a -recompence duly returned: because women ought to be chaste and -honest, & to preserve their honour as their lives, without yeelding -to the contamination thereof, for any occasion whatsoever. And yet -(neverthelesse, in regard of our frailty) many times we proove not so -constant as we should be: yet I am of opinion, that she which selleth -her honestie for money, deserveth justly to be burned. Whereas on the -contrary, she that falleth into the offence, onely through intire -affection (the powerfull lawes of Love beeing above all resistance) in -equity meriteth pardon, especially of a Judge not over-rigorous: as not -long since wee heard from _Philostratus_, in revealing what hapned to -Madam _Phillippa de Prato_, upon the dangerous Edict. - -Understand then, my most worthy Auditors, that there lived sometime in -_Millaine_ an _Almaigne_ Soldiour, named _Gulfardo_, of commendable -carriage in his person, and very faithfull to such as he served, a -matter not common among the _Almaignes_. And because he made just -repayment, to every one which lent him monies; he grew to such -especiall credit, and was so familiar with the very best Marchants; -as (manie times) he could not be so ready to borrow, as they were -willing alwaies to lend him. He thus continuing in the Cittie of -_Millaine_, fastened his affection on a verie beautifull Gentlewoman, -named Mistresse _Ambrosia_, Wife unto a rich Merchant, who was called -Signior _Gasparuolo Sagastraccio_, who had good knowledge of him, and -respectively used him. Loving this Gentlewoman with great discretion, -without the least apprehension of her husband: he sent upon a day to -entreate conference with her, for enjoying the fruition of her love, -and she should find him ready to fulfill whatsoever she pleased to -command him, as, at any time he would make good his promise. - -The Gentlewoman, after divers of these private solicitings, resolutely -answered, that she was as ready to fulfill the request of _Gulfardo_, -provided, that two especiall considerations might ensue thereon. -First, the faithfull concealing thereof from any person living. Next, -because she knew him to be rich, and she had occasion to use two -hundred Crowns, about businesse of important consequence: he should -freely bestow so many on her, and (ever after) she was to be commanded -by him. _Gulfardo_ perceiving the covetousnesse of this woman, who -(notwithstanding his doting affection) he thought to be intirely honest -to her Husband: became so deepely offended at her vile answere, that -his fervent love converted into as earnest loathing her; determining -constantlie to deceive her, and to make her avaritious motion, the only -means whereby to effect it. - -He sent her word, that he was willing to performe her request, or any -farre greater matter for her: in which respect, he onely desired for -to know, when she would be pleased to have him come see her, and to -receive the money of him? No creature hee acquainted with his setled -purpose, but onely a deere friend and kinde companion, who alwayes -used to keepe him company, in the neerest occasions that concerned -him. The Gentlewoman, or rather most disloyall wife, uppon this answer -sent her, was extraordinarily jocond and contented, returning him a -secret Letter, wherein she signified: that _Gasparuolo_ her husband, -had important affaires which called him to _Geneway_: but he should -understand of his departure, and then (with safety) he might come see -her, as also his bringing of the Crownes. - -In the meane while, _Gulfardo_ having determined what he would do, -watched a convenient time, when he went unto _Gasparuolo_, and sayde: -Sir, I have some businesse of maine importance, and shall neede to use -but two hundred Crownes onely: I desire you to lend me so many Crownes, -upon such profite as you were wont to take of mee, at other times when -I have made use of you, and I shall not faile you at my day. - -_Gasparuolo_ was well contented with the motion, and made no more adoe, -but counted downe the Crownes: departing thence (within few dayes -after) for _Geneway_, according** to his Wives former message; she giving -_Gulfardo_ also intelligence of his absence, that now (with safety) hee -might come see her, and bring the two hundred Crownes with him. - -_Gulfardo_, taking his friend in his company, went to visite Mistresse -_Ambrosia_, whom he found in expectation of his arrivall, and the first -thing he did, he counted downe the two hundred Crownes; and delivering -them to her in the presence of his friend, saide: Mistresse _Ambrosia_, -receive these two hundred Crownes, which I desire you to pay unto your -Husband on my behalfe, when he is returned from _Geneway. Ambrosia_, -receyved the two hundred Crownes, not regarding wherefore _Gulfardo_ -used these words: because shee verily beleeved, that hee spake in such -manner, because his friend should take no notice, of his giving them -to her, upon any covenant passed betweene them; whereuppon, she sayde. -Sir, I will pay them to my Husband for you; and cause him to give you a -sufficient discharge: but first I will count them over my selfe, to see -whether the summe be just, or no. And having drawne them over upon the -Table, the summe containing truly two hundred Crownes (wherewith she -was most highly contented) she lockt them safe uppe in her Cuppe-boord, -and _Gulfardoes_ Friend being gone (as formerly it was compacted -betweene them) shee came to converse more familiarly with him, having -provided a banquet for him. What passed between them afterward, both -then, and oftentimes beside, before her Husbande returned home, is -a matter out of my element, and rather requires my ignorance then -knowledge. - -When _Gasparuolo_ was come from _Geneway, Gulfardo_ observing a -convenient time, when he was sitting at the doore with his Wife; tooke -his Friend with him, and comming to _Gasparuolo_, said. Worthy Sir, the -two hundred Crownes which you lent me, before your journy to _Geneway_, -in regard they could not serve my turne, to compasse the businesse for -which I borrowed them: within a day or two after, in the presence of -this Gentleman my friend, I made repayment of them to your wife, and -therefore I pray you crosse me out of your booke. - -_Gasparuolo_ turning to his Wife, demanded; Whether it was so, or no? -She beholding the witnesse standing by, who was also present at her -receyving them: durst not make deniall, but thus answered. Indeede -Husband, I received two hundred Crownes of the Gentleman, and never -remembred, to acquaint you therewith since your comming home: but -hereafter I will be made no more your receiver, except I carried a -quicker memory. - -Then saide _Gasparuolo_: Signior _Gulfardo_, I finde you alwaies a most -honest Gentleman, and will be readie at any time, to doe you the like, -or a farre greater kindnesse; depart at your pleasure, and feare not -the crossing of my Booke. So _Gulfardo_ went away merrily contented, and -_Ambrosia_ was served as she justly merited; she paying the price of -her owne leudnesse to her Husband, which she had a more covetous intent -to keepe, questionlesse, not caring how many like lustfull matches shee -coulde make, to be so liberally rewarded, if this had succeeded to her -minde: whereas he shewed himselfe wise and discreete, in paying nothing -for his pleasure, and requiting a covetous queane in her kinde. - - - - -_A lustie youthfull Priest of_ Varlungo, _fell in love with a pretty -woman, named_ Monna Belcolore. _To compasse his amorous desire, hee -lefte his Cloake (as a pledge of further payment) with her. By a -subtile sleight afterward, he made meanes to borrow a Morter of her, -which when hee sent home againe in the presence of her Husband; he -demaunded to have his Cloake sent him, as having left it in pawne for -the Morter. To pacifie her Husband, offended that shee did not lend -the Priest the Morter without a pawne: she sent him backe his Cloake -againe, albeit greatly against her will._ - -The Second Novell. - -_Approving, that no promise is to be kept with such Women as will make -sale of their honesty for coyne. A warning also for men, not to suffer -Priests to be over familiar with their wives._ - - -Both the Gentlemen and Ladies gave equall commendations, of -_Gulfardoes_ queint beguiling the _Millaine_ Gentlewoman _Ambrosia_, -and wishing all other (of her minde) might alwaies be so served. Then -the Queene, smiling on _Pamphilus_, commaunded him to follow next: -whereupon, thus he began. - -I can tell you (faire Ladies) a short Novell, against such as are -continually offensive to us, yet we being no way able to offend him; -at least, in the same manner as they do injurie us. And for your better -understanding what and who they be, they are our lusty Priests, who -advance their Standard, and make their publike predications against -our wives, winning such advantage over them, that they can pardon them -both of the sinne and punishment, whensoever they are once subjected -unto theyr perswasions, even as if they brought the Soldane bound and -captived, from _Alexandria_ to _Avignon_. Which imperious power, we -(poore soules) cannot exercise on them, considering, we have neither -heart nor courage, to do our devoire in just revenge on their Mothers, -Sisters, Daughters, and Friends, with the like spirit as they rise in -armes against our wives. And therefore, I meant to tell you a tale of -a Country mans wife, more to make you laugh at the conclusion thereof; -then for any singularity of words or matter: yet this benefite you may -gaine thereby, of an apparant proofe that such Sinamon, amorous and -perswading Priests, are not alwayes to be credited on their words or -promises. - -Let me then tell you, that at _Varlungo_, which you know to bee not -farre distant hence, there dwelt an youthfull Priest, lustie, gallant, -and proper of person (especially for Womens service) commonly called -by the name of sweet Sir _Simon_. Now, albeit he was a man of slender -reading, yet notwithstanding, he had store of Latine sentences by -heart; some true, but twice so many maimed and false, Saint-like -shewes, holy speeches, and ghostly admonitions, which hee would preach -under an Oake in the fields, when he had congregated his Parishioners -together. When women lay in childe-bed, hee was their daily comfortable -visitant, and would man them from their houses, when they had any -occasion to walke abroad: carrying alwaies a bottle of holy water about -him, wherewith he would sprinkle them by the way, peeces of hallowed -Candles, and Chrisome Cakes, which pleased women extraordinarily, and -all the Country affoorded not such another frolicke Priest, as this our -nimble and active sweet Sir _Simon_. - -Among many other of his feminine Parishioners, all of them being -hansome and comely Women: yet there was one more pleasing in his wanton -eye, then any of the rest, named _Monna Belcolore_, and wife to a -plaine mecanicke man, called _Bentivegna del Mazzo_. And, to speake -uprightly, few Countrey Villages yeelded a Woman, more fresh and lovely -of complexion, although not admirable for beauty, yet sweete Sir -_Simon_ thought her a Saint, and faine would be offering at her shrine. -Divers prety pleasing qualities she had, as sounding the Cymball, -playing artificially on the Timbrill, and singing thereto as it had -beene a Nightingale, dancing also so dexteriously, as happy was the -man that could dance in her company. All which so enflamed sweet Sir -_Simon_, that he lost his wonted sprightly behaviour, walked sullen, -sad and melancholly, as if he had melted all his mettall, because hee -could hardly have a sight of her. But on the Sonday morning, when hee -heard or knew that she was in the Church, hee would tickle it with a -_Kyrie_ and a _Sanctus_, even as if hee contended to shewe his singular -skill in singing, when it had beene as good to heare an Asse bray. -Whereas on the contrary, when she came not to Church, Masse, and all -else were quicklie shaken uppe, as if his devotion waited onely on -her presence. Yet he was so cunning in the carriage of his amorous -businesse, both for her credite and his owne; as _Bentivegna_ her -husband could not perceive it, or any neighbour so much as suspect it. - -But, to compasse more familiar acquaintance with _Belcolore_, hee sent -her sundry gifts and presents, day by day, as sometime a bunch of -dainty greene Garlicke, whereof he had plenty growing in his Garden, -which he manured with his owne hands, and better then all the countrey -yeelded; otherwhiles a small basket of Pease or Beanes, and Onyons or -Scallions, as the season served. But when he could come in place where -she was; then he darted amourous wincks and glances at her, with becks, -nods, and blushes, Loves private Ambassadours, which shee (being but -countrey-bred) seeming by outward appearance, not to see, retorted -disdainefully, and forthwith would absent her selfe, so that sweet Sir -_Simon_ laboured still in vaine, and could not compasse what he coveted. - -It came to passe within a while after, that on a time, (about -high noone) Sir _Simon_ being walking abroad, chanced to meete -with _Bentivegna_, driving an Asse before him, laden with divers -commodities, and demaunding of him, whither he went, _Bentivegna_, thus -answered. In troth Sir _Simon_, I am going to the City, about some -especiall businesse of mine owne, and I carry these things to Signior -_Bonacorci da Cinestreto_, because he should helpe me before the Judge, -when I shall be called in question concerning my patrimony. Sir _Simon_ -looking merrily on him, said. Thou doest well _Bentivegna_, to make a -friend sure before thou need him; goe, take my blessing with thee, and -returne againe with good successe. But if thou meet with _Laguccio_, -or _Naldino_, forget not to tell them, that they must bring me my -shooe-tyes before Sunday. _Bentivegna_ said, hee would discharge his -errand, and so parted from him, driving his Asse on towards _Florence_. - -Now began Sir _Simon_ to shrug, and scratch his head, thinking this -to be a fit convenient time, for him to goe visite _Belcolore_, and -to make triall of his fortune: wherefore, setting aside all other -businesse, he stayed no where till he came to the house, whereinto -being entred, he saide: All happinesse be to them that dwell heere. -_Belcolore_ being then above in the Chamber, when she heard his tongue, -replyed. Sweet Sir _Simon_! you are heartely welcome, whether are you -walking, if the question may bee demaunded? Beleeve me dainty Ducke, -answered Sir _Simon_, I am come to sit a while with thee, because I met -thy Husband going to the Citie. By this time, _Belcolore_ was descended -downe the stayres, and having once againe given welcome to Sir _Simon_, -she sate downe by him, cleansing of Colewort seeds from such other -course chaffe, which her Husband had prepared before his departure. - -Sir _Simon_ hugging her in his armes, and fetching a vehement sigh, -said. My _Belcolore_, how long shall I pine and languish for thy love? -How now Sir _Simon_? answered she, is this behaviour fitting for an -holy man? Holy-men _Belcolore_, (quoth Sir _Simon_) are made of the -same matter as others be, they have the same affections, and therefore -subject to their infirmities. Santa Maria, answered _Belcolore_, Dare -Priests doe such things as you talke of? Yes _Belcolore_ (quoth he) and -much better then other men can, because they are made for the very best -businesse, in which regard they are restrained from marriage. True -(quoth _Belcolore_) but much more from medling with other mens wives. -Touch not that Text _Belcolore_, replyed Sir _Simon_, it is somewhat -above your capacity: talke of that I come for, namely thy love, my -Ducke, and my Dove. Sir _Simon_ is thine, I pray thee be mine. - -_Belcolore_ observing his smirking behaviour, his proper person, pretty -talke, and queint insinuating; felt a motion to female frailty, which -yet she would withstand so long as she could, and not be over-hasty in -her yeelding. Sir _Simon_ promiseth her a new paire of shoes, garters, -ribbands, girdles, or what else she would request. Sir _Simon_ (quoth -she) all these things which you talke of, are fit for women: but if -your love to mee be such as you make choice of, fulfill what I will -motion to you, and then (perhaps) I shall tell you more. Sir _Simons_ -heate made him hasty to promise whatsoever she would desire; whereupon, -thus shee replyed. On Saturday, said she, I must goe to _Florence_, -to carry home such yarne as was sent me to spinne, and to amend my -spinning wheele: if you will lend mee ten Florines, wherewith I know -you are alwayes furnished, I shall redeeme from the Usurer my best -petticote,** and my wedding gowne (both well neere lost for lacke of -repaiment) without which I cannot be seene at Church, or in any other -good place else, and then afterward other matters may be accomplished. - -Alas sweet _Belcolore_ answered Sir _Simon_, I never beare any such -sum about me, for men of our profession, doe seldome carry any money -at all: but beleeve me on my word, before Saturday come, I will not -faile to bring them hither. Oh Sir (quoth _Belcolore_) you men are -quicke promisers, but slow performers. Doe you thinke to use me, as -poore _Billezza_ was, who trusted to as faire words, and found her -selfe deceived? Now Sir _Simon_, her example in being made scandall to -the world, is a sufficient warning for me: if you be not so provided, -goe and make use of your friend, for I am not otherwise to be moved. -Nay _Belcolore_ (quoth he) I hope you will not serve me so, but my -word shall be of better worth with you. Consider the conveniency of -time, wee being so privately here alone: whereas at my returning hither -againe, some hinderance may thwart me, and the like opportunity be -never obtained. Sir, Sir, (said she) you have heard my resolution; -if you will fetche the Florines, doe; otherwise, walke about your -businesse, for I am a woman of my word. - -Sir _Simon_ perceiving, that she would not trust him upon bare words, -nor any thing was to be done, without _Salvum me fac_, whereas his -meaning was _Sine custodia_; thus answered. Well _Belcolore_, seeing -you dare not credit my bringing the tenne Florines, according to my -promised day: I will leave you a good pawne, my very best cloake, lyned -quite thorough with rich Silke, and made up in the choysest manner. - -_Belcolore_ looking on the Cloake, said. How much may this Cloake bee -worth? How much? quoth Sir _Simon_, upon my word _Belcolore_, it is -of a right fine Flanders Serdge, and not above eight dayes since, I -bought it thus (ready made) of _Lotto_ the Fripperer, and payed for it -sixe and twenty Florines, a pledge then sufficient for your ten. Is it -possible, said shee, that it should cost so much? Well, Sir _Simon_, -deliver it me first, I will lay it up safe for you against Saturday, -when if you fetch it not; I will redeeme mine owne things with it, and -leave you to release it your selfe. - -The Cloake is laid up by _Belcolore_, and Sir _Simon_ so forward in his -affection; that (in briefe) he enjoyed what hee came for; and departed -afterward in his light tripping Cassocke, but yet thorow by-Lanes, -and no much frequented places, smelling on a Nosegay, as if hee had -beene at some wedding in the Countrey, and went thus lightly without -his Cloake, for his better ease. As commonly after actions of evill, -Repentance knocketh at the doore of Conscience, and urgeth a guilty -remembrance, with some sence of sorrow: so was it now with sweet Sir -_Simon_, who survaying over all his Vailes of offering Candles, the -validity of his yearely benefits, and all comming nothing neere the -summe of (scarce halfe) sixe and twenty Florines; he began to repent -his deed of darkenesse, although it was acted in the day-time, and -considered with himselfe, by what honest (yet unsuspected meanes) hee -might recover his Cloake againe, before it went to the Broaker, in -redemption of _Belcolores_ pawned apparrell, and yet to send her no -Florines neither. - -Having a cunning reaching wit, especially in matters for his owne -advantage, and pretending to have a dinner at his lodging, for a few -of some invited friends: he made use of a neighbours Boy, sending him -to the house of _Belcolore_, with request of lending him her Stone -Morter, to make Greene-sawce in for his guests, because hee had meate -required such sawce. _Belcolore_ suspecting no treachery, sent him the -Stone Morter with the Pestell, and about dinner time, when he knew -_Bentivegna_ to bee at home with his wife, by a spye which was set for -the purpose; hee called the Clearke (usually attending on him) and -said. Take this Morter and Pestell, beare them home to _Belcolore_, -and tell her: Sir _Simon_ sends them home with thankes, they having -sufficiently served his turne, and desire her likewise, to send me my -Cloake, which the Boy left as a pledge for better remembrance, and -because she would not lend it without a pawne. - -The Clearke comming to the house of _Belcolore_, found her sitting at -dinner with her Husband, and delivering her the Pestell and Morter, -performed the rest of Sir _Simons_ message. _Belcolore_ hearing the -Cloake demaunded, stept up to make answere: But _Bentivegna_, seeming -(by his lookes) to be much offended, roughly replyed. Why how now wife? -Is not Sir _Simon_ our especiall friend, and cannot be be pleasured -without a pawne? I protest upon my word, I could find in my heart to -smite thee for it. Rise quickely thou wert best, and send him backe his -Cloake; with this warning hereafter, that whatsoever he will have, be -it your poore Asse, or any thing else being ours, let him have it: and -tell him (Master Clearke) he may command it. _Belcolore_ rose grumbling -from the Table, and fetching the Cloake forth of the Chest, which stood -neere at hand in the same roome; shee delivered it to the Clearke, -saying. Tell Sir _Simon_ from me, and boldly say you heard me speake -it: that I made a vow to my selfe, he shall never make use of my Morter -hereafter, to beat any more of his sawcinesse in, let my Husband say -whatsoever he will, I speake the word, and will performe it. - -Away went the Clearke home with the Cloake, and told Sir _Simon_ what -she had said, whereto he replyed. If I must make use of her Morter no -more; I will not trust her with the keeping of my Cloake, for feare it -goe to gage indeed. - -_Bentivegna_ was a little displeased at his wives words, because hee -thought she spake but in jest; albeit _Belcolore_ was so angry with Sir -_Simon_, that she would not speake to him till vintage time following. -But then Sir _Simon_, what by sharpe threatenings of her soule to be -in danger of hell fire, continuing so long in hatred of a holy Priest, -which words did not a little terrifie her; besides daily presents to -her, of sweet new Wines, roasted Chesse-nuts, Figges and Almonds: all -unkindnesse became converted to former familiarity; the garments were -redeemed; he gave her Sonnets which she would sweetly sing to her -Cimbale, and further friendship increased betweene her and sweet Sir -_Simon._ - - - - -Calandrino, Bruno, _and_ Buffalmaco, _all of them being Painters by -profession, travelled to the Plaine of_ Mugnone, _to finde the precious -Stone called_ Helitropium. Calandrino _perswaded himselfe to have found -it; returned home to his house heavily loaden with stones. His Wife -rebuking him for his absence, hee groweth into anger, and shrewdly -beateth her. Afterward, when the case is debated among his other -friends_ Bruno _and_ Buffalmaco, _all is found to be meere foolery._ - -The Third Novell. - -_Justly reprehending the simplicity of such men, as are too much -addicted to credulitie, and will give credit to every thing they heare._ - - -_Pamphilus_ having ended his Novell, whereat the Ladies laughed -exceedingly, so that very hardly they could give over: The Queene gave -charge to Madame _Eliza_, that shee should next succeed in order; when, -being scarcely able to refraine from smyling, thus she began. - -I know not (Gracious Ladies) whether I can move you to as hearty -laughter, with a briefe Novell of mine owne, as _Pamphilus_ lately did -with his: yet I dare assure you, that it is both true and pleasant, and -I will relate it in the best manner I can. - -In our owne Citie, which evermore hath contained all sorts of people, -not long since there dwelt, a Painter, named _Calandrino_, a simple -man; yet as much addicted** to matters of novelty, as any man whatsoever -could be. The most part of his time, he spent in the company of two -other Painters, the one called _Bruno_, and the other _Buffalmaco_, -men of very recreative spirits, and of indifferent good capacity; -often resorting to the said _Calandrino_, because they tooke delight -in his honest simplicity, and pleasant order of behaviour. At the same -time likewise, there dwelt in _Florence_, a yong Gentleman of singular -disposition, to every generous and witty conceite, as the world did -not yeeld a more pleasant companion, he being named _Maso del Saggio_, -who having heard somwhat of _Calandrinos_ sillinesse: determined to -jest with him in merry manner, and to suggest his longing humours after -Novelties, with some conceit of extraordinary nature. - -He happening (on a day) to meete him in the Church of Saint _John_, -and seeing him seriously busied, in beholding the rare pictures, and -the curious carved Tabernacle, which (not long before) was placed on -the high Altar in the said Church: considered with himselfe, that he -had now fit place and opportunity, to effect what hee had long time -desired. And having imparted his minde to a very intimate friend, how -he intended to deale with simple _Calandrino_: they went both very -neere him, where he sate all alone, and making shew as if they saw -him not; began to consult between themselves, concerning the rare -properties of precious stones; whereof _Maso_ discoursed as exactly, -as he had beene a most skilfull Lapidarie; to which conference of -theirs, _Calandrino_ lent an attentive eare, in regard it was matter of -singular rarity. - -Soone after, _Calandrino_ started up, and perceiving by their loude -speaking, that they talked of nothing which required secret Counsell: -he went into their company (the onely thing which _Maso_ desired) and -holding on still the former Argument; _Calandrino_ would needs request -to know, in what place these precious stones were to be found, which -had such excellent vertues in them? _Maso_ made answere, that the most -of them were to be had in _Berlinzona_, neere to the City of _Bascha_, -which was in the Territory of a Countrey, called _Bengodi_, where the -Vines were bound about with Sawcidges, a Goose was sold for a penny, -and the Goslings freely given in to boote. There was also an high -mountaine, wholly made of _Parmezane_, grated Cheese, whereon dwelt -people, who did nothing else but make _Mocharones_ and _Raviuolies_, -boiling them with broth of Capons, and afterward hurled them all about, -to whosoever can or will catch them. Neere to this mountaine runneth a -faire River, the whole streame being pure white Bastard, none such was -ever sold for any money, and without one drop of water in it. - -Now trust me Sir, (said _Calandrino_) that is an excellent Countrey to -dwell in: but I pray you tell me Sir, what doe they with the Capons -after they have boyld them? The _Baschanes_ (quoth _Maso_) eate them -all. Have you Sir, said _Calandrino_, at any time beene in that -Countrey? How? answered _Maso_, doe you demaund if I have beene there? -Yes man, above a thousand times, at the least. How farre Sir, I pray -you (quoth _Calandrino_) is that worthy Countrey, from this our City? -In troth replyed _Maso_, the miles are hardly to be numbred, for the -most part of them we travell when we are nightly in our beddes, and if -a man dreame right; he may be there upon a sudden. - -Surely Sir, said _Calandrino_, it is further hence, then to _Abruzzi_? -Yes questionlesse, replyed _Maso_; but, to a willing minde, no travell -seemeth tedious. - -_Calandrino_ well noting, that _Maso_ delivered all these speeches, -with a stedfast countenance, no signe of smyling, or any gesture to -urge the least mislike: he gave such credit to them, as to any matter -of apparent and manifest truth, and upon this assured confidence, he -said. - -Beleeve me Sir, the journey is over-farre for mee to undertake, but if -it were neerer; I could affoord to goe in your Company; onely to see -how they make these _Macherones_, and to fill my belly with them. - -But now wee are in talke Sir, I pray you pardon mee to aske, whether -any such precious stones, as you spake off, are to be found in that -Countrey, or no? Yes indeed, replyed _Maso_, there are two kinds of -them to be found in those Territories, both being of very great vertue. -One kind, are gritty stones, of _Settignano_, and of _Montisca_, by -vertue of which places, when any Mill-stones or Grind-stones are to -bee made, they knede the sand as they use to doe meale, and so make -them of what bignesse they please. In which respect, they have have a -common saying there: that Nature maketh common stones, but _Montisca_ -Mill-stones. Such plenty are there of these Mill-stones, so slenderly -here esteemed among us, as Emeralds are with them, whereof they have -whole mountaines, farre greater then our _Montemorello_, which shine -most gloriously at midnight. And how meanly soever we account of their -Mill-stones; yet there they drill them, and enchase them in Rings, -which afterward they send to the great Soldane, and have whatsoever -they will demaund for them. - -The other kinde is a most precious Stone indeede, which our best -Lapidaries call the _Helitropium_, the vertue whereof is so admirable; -as whosoever beareth it about him, so long as he keepeth it, it is -impossible for any eye to discerne him, because he walketh meerely -invisible. O Lord Sir (quoth _Calandrino_) these stones are of rare -vertue indeede: but where else may a man finde that _Helitropium_? -Whereto _Maso_ thus answered: That Countrey onely doth not containe -the _Helitropium_; for they be many times found upon our plaine of -_Mugnone_. Of what bignesse Sir (quoth _Calandrino_) is the Stone, and -what coulour? The _Helitropium_, answered _Maso_, is not alwayes of one -quality, because some are bigge, and others lesse; but all are of one -coulour, namely blacke. - -_Calandrino_ committing all these things to respective memory, and -pretending to be called thence by some other especiall affaires; -departed from _Maso_, concluding resolvedly with himselfe, to finde -this precious stone, if possibly hee could: yet intending to doe -nothing, untill hee had acquainted _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_ therewith, -whom he loved dearly: he went in all hast to seeke them; because, -(without any longer trifling the time) they three might bee the first -men, that should find out this precious stone, spending almost the -whole morning, before they were all three met together. For they were -painting at the Monastery of the Sisters of _Faenza_, where they had -very serious imployment, and followed their businesse diligently: -where having found them, and saluting them in such kinde manner, as -continually he used to doe, thus he began. - -Loving friends, if you were pleased to follow mine advise, wee three -will quickely be the richest men in _Florence_; because, by information -from a Gentleman (well deserving to be credited) on the Plaine of -_Mugnone_: there is a precious stone to be found, which whosoever -carrieth it about him, walketh invisible, and is not to be seene by -any one. Let us three be the first men to goe and finde it, before any -other heare thereof, and goe about it, and assure our selves that we -shall finde it, for I know it (by discription) so soone as I see it. -And when wee have it, who can hinder us from bearing it about us. Then -will we goe to the Tables of our Bankers, or money changers, which we -see daily charged with plenty of gold and silver, where we may take so -much as wee list, for they (nor any) are able to descrie us. So, (in -short time) shall wee all be wealthy, never needing to drudge any more, -or paint muddy walles, as hitherto we have done; and, as many of our -poore profession are forced to doe. - -_Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_ hearing this, began to smile, and looking -merrily each on other, they seemed to wonder thereat, and greatly -commended the counsell of _Calandrino. Buffalmaco_ demaunding how the -stone was named. Now it fortuned, that _Calandrino_ (who had but a -grosse and blockish memory) had quite forgot the name of the stone, and -therefore said. What neede have wee of the name, when we know, and are -assured of the stones vertue? Let us make no more adoe, but (setting -aside all other businesse) goe seeke where it is to be found. Well my -friend (answered _Bruno_) you say wee may find it, but how, and by what -meanes? - -There are two sorts of them (quoth _Calandrino_) some bigge, others -smaller, but all carry a blacke colour: therefore (in mine opinion) let -us gather all such stones as are blacke, so shall we be sure to finde -it among them, without any further losse of time. - -_Buffalmaco_ and _Bruno_, liked and allowed the counsell of -_Calandrino_, which when they had (by severall commendations) given him -assurance of, _Bruno_ saide. I doe not thinke it a convenient time now, -for us to go about so weighty a businesse: for the Sun is yet in the -highest degree, and striketh such a heate on the plaine of _Mugnone_, -as all the stones are extreamly dryed, and the very blackest will -nowe seeme whitest. But in the morning, after the dew is falne, and -before the Sunne shineth forth, every stone retaineth his true colour. -Moreover, there be many Labourers now working on the plaine, about such -businesse as they are severally assigned, who seeing us in so serious -a search:** may imagine what we seeke for, & partake with us in the same -inquisition, by which meanes they may chance to speed before us, and so -wee may lose both our trot and amble. Wherefore, by my consent, if your -opinion jumpe with mine, this is an enterprise onely to be perfourmed -in an early morning, when the blacke stones are to be distinguisht from -the white, and a Festivall day were the best of all other, for then -there will be none to discover us. - -_Buffalmaco_ applauded the advice of _Bruno_, and _Calandrino_ -did no lesse, concluding all together; that Sunday morning (next -ensuing) should be the time, and then they all three would go seeke -the Stone. But _Calandrino_ was verie earnest with them, that they -shold not reveale it to any living body, because it was tolde him as -an especiall secret: disclosing further to them, what hee had heard -concerning the Countrey of _Bengodi_, maintaining (with solemn oaths -and protestations) that every part thereof was true. Uppon this -agreement, they parted from _Calandrino_, who hardly enjoyed anie rest -at all, either by night or day, so greedie he was to bee possessed of -the stone. On the Sonday morning, hee called up his Companions before -breake of day, and going forth at S. _Galls_ Port, they stayed not, -till they came to the plaine of _Mugnone_, where they searched all -about to finde this strange stone. - -_Calandrino_ went stealing before the other two, and verilie perswaded -himselfe, that he was borne to finde the _Helitropium_, and looking -on every side about him, hee rejected all other Stones but the -blacke, whereof first he filled his bosome, and afterwards, both -his Pockets. Then he tooke off his large painting Apron, which he -fastened with his girdle in the manner of a sacke, and that he filled -full of stones likewise. Yet not so satisfied, he spred abroad his -Cloake, which being also full of stones, hee bound it up carefully, -for feare of loosing the very least of them. All which _Buffalmaco_ -and _Bruno_ well observing (the day growing on, and hardly they could -reach home by dinner time) according as merrily they had concluded, -and pretending not to see _Calandrino_, albeit he was not farre from -them: What is become of _Calandrino_? saide _Buffalmaco. Bruno_ gazing -strangely every where about him, as if hee were desirous to finde him, -replyed. I saw him not long since, for then he was hard by before us; -questionlesse, he hath given us the slippe, is privilie gone home to -dinner, and making starke fooles of us, hath lefte us to picke up -blacke stones, upon the parching plaines of _Mugnone_. Well (quoth -_Buffalmaco_) this is but the tricke of an hollow-hearted friend, and -not such as he protested himselfe to be, to us. Could any but wee -have bin so sottish, to credit his frivolous perswasions, hoping to -finde any stones of such vertue, and here on the fruitlesse plains of -_Mugnone_? No, no, none but we would have beleeved him. - -_Calandrino_ (who was close by them) hearing these wordes, and seeing -the whole manner of their wondering behaviour: became constantly -perswaded, that hee had not onely founde the precious stone; but also -had some store of them about him, by reason he was so neere to them, -and yet they could not see him, therefore he walked before them. Now -was his joy beyond all compasse of expression, and being exceedingly -proud of so happy an adventure: did not meane to speake one word to -them, but (heavily laden as hee was) to steale home faire and softly -before them, which indeede he did, leaving them to follow after, if -they would. _Bruno_ perceiving his intent, said to _Buffalmaco_: What -remaineth now for us to doe? Why should not we go home, as well as hee? -And reason too, replyed _Bruno_, It is in vaine to tarry any longer -heere: but I solemnly protest, _Calandrino_ shall no more make an Asse -of me: and were I now as neere him, as not long since I was, I would -give him such a remembrance on the heele with this Flint stone, as -should sticke by him this moneth, to teach him a lesson for abusing his -friends. - -Hee threw the stone, and hit him shrewdly on the heele therewith; but -all was one to _Calandrino_, whatsoever they saide, or did, as thus -they still followed after him. And although the blow of the stone was -painfull to him; yet he mended his pace so wel as he was able, in -regard of beeing over-loaden with stones, and gave them not one word -all the way, because he tooke himselfe to bee invisible, and utterly -unseene of them. _Buffalmaco_ taking uppe another Flint-stone, which -was indifferent heavie and sharp, said to _Bruno_. Seest thou this -Flint? Casting it from him, he smote _Calandrino_ just in the backe -therewith, saying. Oh that _Calandrino_ had bin so neere, as I might -have hit him on the backe with the stone. And thus all the way on the -plaine of _Mugnone_, they did nothing else but pelt him with stones, -even so farre as the Port of S. _Gall_, where they threwe downe what -other stones they had gathered, meaning not to molest him any more, -because they had done enough already. - -There they stept before him unto the Port, and acquainted the Warders -with the whole matter, who laughing heartily at the jest, the better to -upholde it; would seeme not to see _Calandrino_ in his passage by them, -but suffered him to go on, sore wearied with his burthen, and sweating -extreamly. Without resting himselfe in any place, he came home to his -house, which was neere to the corner of the Milles, Fortune being so -favourable to him in the course of this mockery, that as he passed -along the Rivers side, and afterward through part of the City; he was -neither met nor seen by any, in regard they were all in their houses at -dinner. - -_Calandrino_, every minute ready to sinke under his weightie burthen, -entred into his owne house, where (by great ill luck) his wife, being -a comely and very honest woman, and named _Monna Trista_, was standing -aloft on the stayres head. She being somewhat angry for his so long -absence, and seeing him come in grunting and groaning, frowningly said. -I thought that the divell would never let thee come home, all the -whole Citie have dined, and yet wee must remaine without our dinner. -When _Calandrino_ heard this, & perceived that he was not invisible to -his Wife: full of rage and wroth, hee began to raile, saying. Ah thou -wicked woman, where art thou? Thou hast utterly undone me: but (as I -live) I will pay thee soundly for it. Up the staires he ascended into -a small Parlour, where when he hadde spred all his burthen of stones -on the floore: he ran to his wife, catching her by the haire of the -head, and throwing her at his feete; giving her so many spurns and -cruel blowes, as shee was not able to moove either armes or legges, -notwithstanding all her teares, and humble submission. - -Now _Buffalmaco_ and _Bruno_, after they had spent an indifferent -while, with the Warders at the Port in laughter; in a faire & gentle -pace, they followed _Calandrino_ home to his house, and being come to -the doore, they heard the harsh bickering betweene him and his Wife, -and seeming as if they were but newly arrived, they called out alowd -to him. _Calandrino_ being in a sweate, stamping and raving still at -his Wife: looking forth of the window, entreated them to ascend up to -him, which they did, counterfetting greevous displeasure against him. -Being come into the roome, which they saw all covered over with stones, -his Wife sitting in a corner, all the haire (well-neere) torne off her -head, her face broken and bleeding, and all her body cruelly beaten; on -the other side, _Calandrino_ standing unbraced and ungirded, strugling -and wallowing, like a man quite out of breath: after a little pausing, -_Bruno_ thus spake. - -Why how now _Calandrino_? What may the meaning of this matter be? -What, art thou preparing for building, that thou hast provided such -plenty of stones? How sitteth thy poore wife? How hast thou misused -her? Are these the behaviours of a wise or honest man? _Calandrino_, -utterly over-spent with travaile, and carrying such an huge burthen -of stones, as also the toylesome beating of his Wife, (but much more -impatient and offended, for that high good Fortune, which he imagined -to have lost:) could not collect his spirits together, to answer them -one ready word, wherefore hee sate fretting like a mad man. Whereupon, -_Buffalmaco_ thus began to him. _Calandrino_, if thou be angry with any -other, yet thou shouldest not have made such a mockery of us, as thou -hast done: in leaving us (like a couple of coxcombes) to the plaine of -_Mugnone_, whether thou leddest us with thee, to seeke a precious stone -called _Helitropium_. And couldst thou steale home, never bidding us so -much as farewell? How can we but take it in very evill part, that thou -shouldest so abuse two honest neighbours? Well, assure thy selfe, this -is the last time that ever thou shalt serve us so. - -_Calandrino_ (by this time) being somewhat better come to himselfe, -with an humble protestation of courtesie, returned them this answer. -Alas my good friends, be not you offended, the case is farre otherwise -then you immagine. Poore unfortunate man that I am, I found the rare -precious stone that you speake of: and marke me well, if I do not tell -you the truth of all. When you asked one another (the first time) what -was become of me; I was hard by you: at the most, within the distance -of two yards length; and perceiving that you saw mee not, (being still -so neere, and alwaies before you:) I went on, smiling to my selfe, to -heare you brabble and rage against me. - -So, proceeding on in his discourse, he recounted every accident as -it hapned, both what they had saide and did unto him, concerning -the severall blowes, with the two Flint-stones, the one hurting him -greevously in the heele, and the other paining him as extreamly in the -backe, with their speeches used then, and his laughter, notwithstanding -hee felt the harme of them both, yet beeing proud that he did so -invisibly beguile them. Nay more (quoth he) I cannot forbeare to tell -you, that when I passed thorow the Port, I saw you standing with the -Warders; yet, by vertue of that excellent Stone, undiscovered of -you all. Beside, going along the streets, I met many of my Gossips, -friends, and familiar acquaintance, such as used daylie to converse -with me, and drinking together in every Tavern: yet not one of them -spake to me, neyther used any courtesie or salutation; which (indeede) -I did the more freely forgive them, because they were not able to see -me. - -In the end of all, when I was come home into mine owne house, this -divellish and accursed woman, being aloft uppon my stayres head, by -much misfortune chanced to see me; in regard (as it is not unknowne -to you) that women cause all things to lose their vertue. In which -respect, I that could have stild my selfe the onely happy man in -_Florence_, am now made most miserable. And therefore did I justly -beate her, so long as she was able to stand against mee, and I know no -reason to the contrary, why I should not yet teare her in a thousand -peeces: for I may well curse the day of our mariage, to hinder and -bereave me of such an invisible blessednesse. - -_Buffalmaco_ and _Bruno_ hearing this, made shew of verie much -mervailing thereat, and many times maintained what _Calandrino_ had -said; being well neere ready to burst with laughter; considering, how -confidently he stood upon it, that he had found the wonderfull stone, -and lost it by his wives speaking onely to him. But when they saw him -rise in fury once more, with intent to beat her againe: then they stept -betweene them; affirming, That the woman had no way offended in this -case, but rather he himself: who knowing that women cause all things -to lose their vertue, had not therefore expresly commanded her, not to -be seene in his presence all that day, untill he had made full proofe -of the stones vertue. And questionles, the consideration of a matter -so availeable and important, was quite taken from him, because such -an especiall happinesse, should not belong to him only; but (in part) -to his friends, whom he had acquainted therewith, drew them to the -plaine with him in companie, where they tooke as much paines in search -of the stone, as possibly he did, or could; and yet (dishonestly) he -would deceive them, and beare it away covetously, for his owne private -benefit. - -After many other, as wise and wholesome perswasions, which he -constantly credited, because they spake them, they reconciled him to -his wife, and she to him: but not without some difficulty in him; who -falling into wonderfull greefe and melancholy, for losse of such an -admirable precious stone, was in danger to have dyed, within lesse then -a month after. - - - - -_The Provost belonging to the Cathedrall Church of_ Fiesola, _fell in -love with a Gentlewoman, being a widdow, and named_ Piccarda, _who -hated him as much as he loved her. He imagining, that he lay with her: -by the Gentlewomans Bretheren, and the Byshop under whom he served, was -taken in bed with her Mayde, an ugly, foule, deformed Slut._ - -The Fourth Novell. - -_Wherein is declared, how love oftentimes is so powerfull in aged men, -and driveth them to such doating, that it redoundeth to their great -disgrace and punishment._ - - -Ladie _Eliza_ having concluded her Novell, not without infinite -commendations of the whole company: the Queen turning her lookes to -Madame _Æmillia_, gave her such an expresse signe, as she must needs -follow next after Madame _Eliza_, whereupon she began in this manner. - -Vertuous Ladies, I very well remember (by divers Novels formerly -related) that sufficient hath beene sayde, concerning Priests and -Religious persons, and all other carrying shaven Crownes, in their -luxurious appetites and desires. But because no one can at any time say -so much, as thereto no more may be added: beside them alreadie spoken -of, I will tel you another concerning the Provost of a Cathedrall Church, -who would needes (in despight of all the world) love a Gentlewoman -whether she would or no: and therefore, in due chastisement both -unto his age and folly, she gave him such entertainment as he justly -deserved. - -It is not unknowne unto you all, that the Cittie of _Fiesola_, the -mountaine whereof we may very easily hither discerne, hath bene (in -times past) a very great and most ancient City: although at this day it -is well-neere all ruined: yet neverthelesse, it alwaies was, and yet -is a Byshops See, albeit not of the wealthiest. In the same Citie, and -no long while since, neere unto the Cathedrall Church, there dwelt a -Gentlewoman, being a Widdow, and commonlie there stiled by the name of -Madame _Piccarda_, whose house and inheritance was but small, wherewith -yet she lived very contentedly (having no wandering eye, or wanton -desires) and no company but her two Brethren, Gentlemen of especiall -honest and gracious disposition. - -This Gentlewoman, being yet in the flourishing condition of her time, -did ordinarily resort to the Cathedrall Church, in holie zeale, and -religious devotion; where the Provost of the place, became so enamored -of her, as nothing (but the sight of her) yeelded him any contentment. -Which fond affection of his, was forwarded with such an audacious and -bold carriage, as hee dared to acquaint her with his love, requiring -her enterchange of affection, and the like opinion of him, as he had of -her. True it is, that he was very farre entred into yeares, but yong -and lustie in his own proud conceite, presuming strangely beyond his -capacity, and thinking as well of his abilitie, as the youthfullest -gallant in the World could doe. Whereas (in verie deede) his person was -utterly displeasing, his behaviour immodest and scandalous, and his -usuall Language, favouring of such sensualitie, as, very fewe or none -cared for his company. And if any Woman seemed respective of him, it -was in regard of his outside and profession, and more for feare, then -the least affection, and alwayes as welcome to them, as the head-ake. - -His fond and foolish carriage still continuing to this Gentlewoman; -she being wise and vertuously advised, spake thus unto him. Holy Sir, -if you love me according as you protest, & manifest by your outward -behaviour: I am the more to thanke you for it, being bound in dutie -to love you likewise. But if your Love have any harshe or unsavourie -taste, which mine is no way able to endure, neyther dare entertaine in -anie kinde whatsoever: you must and shall hold mee excused, because I -am made of no such temper. You are my ghostly and spirituall Father, an -Holy Priest. Moreover, yeares have made you honorably aged; all which -severall weighty considerations, ought to confirme you in continency -& chastity. Remember withall (good sir) that I am but a child to you -in years, & were I bent to any wanton appetites, you shold justly -correct me by fatherly counsell, such as most beautifieth your sacred -profession. Beside, I am a Widdow, and you are not ignorant, how -requisite a thing honestie is in widdowes. Wherefore, pardon mee (Holy -Father:) for, in such manner as you make the motion: I desire you not -to love mee, because I neither can or will at any time so affect you. - -The Provoste gaining no other grace at this time, would not so give -over for this first repulse, but pursuing her still with unbeseeming -importunity; many private meanes he used to her by Letters, tokens, -and insinuating ambassages; yea, whensoever shee came to the Church, -he never ceased his wearisome solicitings. Whereat she growing greatly -offended, and perceyving no likelyhood of his desisting; became so -tyred with his tedious suite, that she considered with her selfe, -how she might dispatch him as he deserved, because she saw no other -remedy. Yet shee would not attempte anie thing in this case, without -acquainting her Bretheren first therewith. And having tolde them, how -much shee was importuned by the Provost, and also what course she meant -to take (wherein they both counselled and encouraged her:) within a few -daies after, shee went to Church as she was wont to do; where so soone -as the Provost espyed her: forthwith he came to her, and according to -his continued course, he fell into his amorous courting. She looking -upon him with a smiling countenance, and walking aside with him out -of any hearing: after he had spent many impertinent speeches, shee -(venting foorth manie a vehement sighe) at length returned him this -answer. - -Reverend Father, I have often heard it saide: That there is not any -Fort or Castle, how strongly munited soever it bee; but by continuall -assayling, at length (of necessity) it must and will be surprized. -Which comparison, I may full well allude to my selfe. For, you having -so long time solicited me, one while with affable language, then againe -with tokens and entisements, of such prevailing power: as have broken -the verie barricado of my former deliberation, and yeelded mee uppe as -your prisoner, to be commanded at your pleasure, for now I am onely -devoted yours. - -Well may you (Gentle Ladies) imagine, that this answere was not a -little welcome to the Provost; who, shrugging with conceyte of joy, -presently thus replyed. I thanke you Madame _Piccarda_, and to tell -you true, I held it almost as a miracle, that you could stand upon -such long resistance, considering, it never so fortuned to mee with -anie other. And I have many times saide to my selfe, that if women -were made of silver, they hardly could be worth a pennie, because -there can scarsely one be found of so good allay, as to endure the -test and essay. But let us breake off this frivolous conference, and -resolve upon a conclusion; How, when and where we may safely meete -together. Worthy Sir, answered _Piccarda_, your selfe may appoint the -time whensoever you please, because I have no Husband, to whom I should -render any account of my absence, or presence: but I am not provided of -any place. - -A pretty while the Provoste stood musing, and at last saide. A place -Madame? where can be more privacie, then in your owne house? Alas -Sir (quoth she) you know that I have two Gentlemen my brethren who -continually are with me, & other of their friends beside: My house also -is not great, wherefore it is impossible to be there, except you could -be like a dumbe man, without speaking one word, or making the very -least noyse; beside, to remaine in darkenesse, as if you were blinde, -and who can be able to endure all these? And yet (without these) there -is no adventuring, albeit they never come into my Chamber: but their -lodging is so close to mine, as there cannot any word be spoken, be it -never so low or in whispering manner, but they heare it very easily. -Madame said the Provoste, for one or two nights, I can make hard shift. -Why Sir (quoth she) the matter onely remaineth in you, for if you be -silent and suffering, as already you have heard, there is no feare at -all of safty. Let me alone Madame, replyed the Provoste, I will bee -governed by your directions: but, in any case, let us begin this night. -With all my heart, saide shee. So appointing him how and when hee -should come; hee parted from her, and shee returned home to her house. - -Heere I am to tell you, that this Gentlewoman had a servant, in the -nature of an old maide, not indued with any well featured face, but -instead thereof, she had the ugliest and most counterfeit countenance, -as hardly could be seene a worse. She had a wrie mouth, huge great -lippes, foule teeth, great and blacke, a monstrous stinking breath, her -eyes bleared, and alwayes running, the complexion of her face betweene -greene and yellow, as if shee had not spent the Summer season in the -Citie, but in the parching Countrey under a hedge; and beside all -these excellent parts, shee was crooke backt, poult footed, and went -like a lame Mare in Fetters. Her name was _Ciuta_, but in regard of -her flat nose, lying as low as a Beagles, shee was called _Ciutazza_. -Now, notwithstanding all this deformity in her, yet she had a singuler -opinion of her selfe, as commonly all such foule Sluts have: in regard -whereof, Madame _Piccarda_ calling her aside, Thus began. - -_Ciutazza_, if thou wilt doe for me one nights service, I shall bestow -on thee a faire new Smocke. When _Ciutazza_ heard her speake of a -new Smocke, instantly she answered. Madame, if you please to bestow -a new Smocke on me, were it to runne thorow the fire for you, or any -businesse of farre greater danger, you onely have the power to command -me, and I will doe it. I will not (said _Piccarda_) urge thee to any -dangerous action, but onely to lodge in my bed this night with a man, -and give him courteous entertainement, who shall reward thee liberally -for it. But have an especiall care that thou speake not one word, for -feare thou shouldst be heard by my Brethren, who (as thou knowest) -lodge so neere by: doe this, and then demaund thy Smocke of me. Madame -(quoth _Ciutazza_) if it were to lye with sixe men, rather then one; if -you say the word, it shall be done. - -When night was come, the Provoste also came according to appointment, -even when the two brethren were in their lodging, where they easily -heard his entrance, as _Piccarda_ (being present with them) had -informed them. In went the Provoste without any candle, or making the -least noise to be heard, & being in _Piccardaes_ Chamber, went to -bed: _Ciutazza_ tarrying not long from him, but (as her Mistresse had -instructed her) she went to bed likewise, not speaking any word at -all, and the Provoste, imagining to have her there, whom he so highly -affected, fell to imbracing and kissing _Ciutazza_, who was as forward -in the same manner to him, and there for a while I intend to leave them. - -When _Piccarda_ had performed this hot piece of businesse, she referred -the effecting of the remainder to her Brethren, in such sort as it was -compacted betweene them. Faire and softly went the two brethren forth -of their Chamber, and going to the Market place, Fortune was more -favourable to them then they could wish, in accomplishing the issue -of their intent. For the heat being somwhat tedious, the Lord Bishop -was walking abroad very late, with purpose to visit the Brethren at -the Widdowes house, because he tooke great delight in their company, -as being good Schollers, and endued with other singular parts beside. -Meeting with them in the open Market place, he acquainted them with his -determination; whereof they were not a little joyfull, it jumping so -justly with their intent. - -Being come to the Widdowes house, they passed through a small nether -Court, where lights stood ready to welcome him thither; and entring -into a goodly Hall, there was store of good wine and banquetting, which -the Bishop accepted in very thankefull manner: and courteous complement -being overpassed, one of the Brethren, thus spake. My good Lord, seeing -it hath pleased you to honour our poore Widdowed Sisters house with -your presence, for which wee shall thanke you while we live: We would -intreate one favour more of you, onely but to see a sight which we will -shew you. The Lord Bishop was well contented with the motion: so the -Brethren conducting him by the hand, brought him into their Sisters -Chamber, where the the Provoste was in bed with _Ciutazza_, both -soundly sleeping, but enfolded in his armes, as wearied (belike) with -their former wantonning, and whereof his age had but little need. - -The Courtaines being close drawne about the bed, although the season -was exceeding hot, they having lighted Torches in their hands; drew -open the Curtaines, and shewed the Bishop his Provoste, close snugging -betweene the armes of _Ciutazza_. Upon a sudden the Provoste awaked, -and seeing so great a light, as also so many people about him: shame -and feare so daunted him, that hee shrunke downe into the bed, and hid -his head. But the Bishop being displeased at a sight so unseemely, made -him to discover his head againe, to see whom he was in bed withall. Now -the poore Provoste perceiving the Gentlewomans deceite, and the proper -hansome person so sweetly embracing him: it made him so confounded with -shame, as he had not the power to utter one word: but having put on his -cloathes by the Bishops command, hee sent him (under sufficient guard) -to his Pallace, to suffer due chastisement for his sinne committed; and -afterward he desired to know, by what meanes hee became so favoured of -_Ciutazza_, the whole Historie whereof, the two brethren related at -large to him. - -When the Bishop had heard all the discourse, highly he commended the -wisedome of the Gentlewoman, and worthy assistance of her brethren, -who contemning to soile their hands in the blood of a Priest, rather -sought to shame him as hee deserved. The Bishop enjoyned him a pennance -of repentance for forty dayes after, but love and disdaine made him -weepe nine and forty: Moreover, it was a long while after, before he -durst be seene abroad. But when he came to walke the streets, the Boyes -would point their fingers at him, saying. Behold the Provoste that -lay with _Ciutazza_: Which was such a wearisome life to him, that he -became (well neere) distracted in his wits. In this manner the honest -Gentlewoman discharged her dutie, and rid her selfe of the Provosts -importunity: _Ciutazza_ had a merry night of it, and a new Smocke also -for her labour. - - - - -_Three pleasant Companions, plaide a merry pranke with a Judge -(belonging to the Marquesate of_ Ancona) _at_ Florence, _at such time -as he sate on the Bench, and hearing criminall causes._ - -The Fift Novell. - -_Giving admonition, that for the mannaging of publique affaires, no -other persons are or ought to be appointed, but such as be honest, and -meet to sit on the seate of Authority._ - - -No sooner had Madam _Æmillia_ finished her Novell, wherein, the -excellent wisedome of _Piccarda_, for so worthily punishing the -luxurious old Provoste, had generall commendations of the whole -Assembly: but the Queene, looking on _Philostratus_, said. I command -you next to supply the place: whereto he made answere, that hee was -both ready and willing, and then thus began. Honourable Ladies, the -merry Gentleman, so lately remembred by Madame _Eliza_, being named -_Maso del Saggio_; causeth me to passe over an intended Tale, which I -had resolved on when it came to my turne: to report another concerning -him, and two men more, his friendly Companions, which although it may -appeare to you somewhat unpleasing, in regard of a little grosse and -unmannerly behavior: yet it will move merriment without any offence, -and that is the maine reason why I relate it. - -It is not unknowne to you, partly by intelligence from our reverend -predecessours, as also some understanding of your owne, that many time -have resorted to our City of _Florence_, Potestates and Officers, -belonging to the Marquesate of _Anconia_; who commonly were men of -lowe spirit, and their lives so wretched and penurious, as they rather -deserved to be tearmed Misers, then men. And in regard of this their -naturall covetousnesse and misery, the Judges would bring also in -their company, such Scribes or Notaries, as being paralelde with their -Masters: they all seemed like Swaines come from the Plough, or bred up -in some Coblers quality, rather then Schollers, or Students of Law. - -At one time (above all the rest) among other Potestates and Judges, -there came an especiall man, as pickt out of purpose, who was named -_Messer Niccolao da San Lepidio_, who (at the first beholding) looked -rather like a Tinker, then any Officer in authority. This hansome -man (among the rest) was deputed to heare criminall causes. And, as -often it happeneth, that Citizens, although no businesse inviteth -them to Judiciall Courts, yet they still resort thither, sometimes -accidentally: So it fortuned, that _Maso del Saggio_, being one morning -in search of an especiall friend, went to the Court-house, and being -there, observed in what manner _Messer Niccolao_ was seated; who -looking like some strange Fowle, lately come forth of a farre Countrey; -he began to survay him the more seriously, even from the head to the -foot, as we use to say. - -And albeit he saw his Gowne furred with Miniver, as also the hood about -his necke, a Penne and Inkehorne hanging at his girdle, and one skirt -of his Garment longer then the other, with more misshapen sights about -him, farre unfitting for a man of so civill profession: yet he spyed -one errour extraordinary, the most notable (in his opinion) that ever -he had seene before. Namely, a paultry paire of Breeches, wickedly -made, and worse worne, hanging downe so lowe as halfe his legge, -even as he sate upon the Bench, yet cut so sparingly of the Cloath, -that they gaped wide open before, as a wheele-barrow might have full -entrance allowed it. This strange sight was so pleasing to him; as -leaving off further search of his friend, and scorning to have such a -spectacle alone by himselfe: hee went upon another Inquisition; Namely, -for two other merry Lads like himselfe, the one being called _Ribi_, -and the other _Matteuzzo_, men of the same mirth-full disposition as he -was, and therefore the fitter for his Company. - -After he had met with them, these were his salutations: My honest -Boyes, if ever you did me any kindnesse, declare it more effectually -now, in accompanying me to the Court-house, where you shall behold -such a singular spectacle, as (I am sure) you never yet saw the -like. Forthwith they went along altogether, and being come to the -Court-house, he shewed them the Judges hansome paire of Breeches, -hanging down in such base and beastly manner; that (being as yet farre -off from the Bench) their hearts did ake with extreamity of laughter. -But when they came neere to the seat whereon _Messer Niccolao_ sate, -they plainely perceived, that it was very easie to be crept under, and -withall, that the board whereon he set his feet, was rotten and broken, -so that it was no difficult matter, to reach it, and pull it downe as -a man pleased, and let him fall bare Breecht to the ground. Cheare up -your spirits (my hearts) quoth _Maso_, and if your longing be like to -mine; we will have yonder Breeches a good deale lower, for I see how it -may be easily done. - -Laying their heads together, plotting and contriving severall wayes, -which might be the likelyest to compasse their intent: each of them had -his peculiar appointment, to undertake the businesse without fayling, -and it was to be performed the next morning. At the houre assigned, -they met there againe, and finding the Court well filled with people, -the Plaintiffes and Defendants earnestly pleading: _Matteuzzo_ (before -any body could descry him) was cunningly crept under the Bench, and -lay close by the board whereon the Judge placed his feete. Then stept -in _Maso_ on the right hand of _Messer Niccolao_, and tooke fast hold -on his Gowne before; the like did _Ribi_ on the left hand, in all -respects answerable to the other. Oh my Lord Judge (cryed _Maso_ out -aloud) I humbly intreat you for charities sake, before this pilfering -knave escape away from hence; that I may have Justice against him, for -stealing my drawing-over stockeings, which he stoutly denyeth, yet mine -owne eyes beheld the deed, it being now not above fifteene dayes since, -when first I bought them for mine owne use. - -Worthy Lord Judge (cryed _Ribi_, on the other side) doe not beleeve -what he saith, for he is a paltry lying fellow, and because hee knew I -came hither to make my complaint for a Male or Cloakebag which he stole -from me: hee urgeth this occasion for a paire of drawing Stockeings, -which he delivered me with his owne hands. If your Lordship will not -credit me, I can produce as witnesses, _Trecco_ the Shoemaker, with -_Monna Grassa_ the Souse-seller, and he that sweepes the Church of -_Santa Maria a Verzaia_, who saw him when he came posting hither. -_Maso_ haling and tugging the Judge by the sleeve, would not suffer him -to heare _Ribi_, but cryed out still for Justice against him, as he did -the like on the contrary side. - -During the time of this their clamourous contending, the Judge being -very willing to heare either party: _Matteuzzo_, upon a signe received -from the other, which was a word in _Masoes_ pleading, laide holde -on the broken boord, as also on the Judges low-hanging Breech, -plucking at them both so strongly, that they fell downe immediately, -the Breeches being onely tyed but with one Poynt before. He hearing -the boards breaking underneath him, and such maine pulling at his -Breeches; strove (as he sate) to make them fast before, but the Poynt -being broken, and _Maso_ crying in his eare on the one side, as _Ribi_ -did the like in the other; hee was at his wits end to defend himselfe. -My Lord (quoth _Maso_) you may bee ashamed that you doe me not -Justice, why will you not heare mee, but wholly lend your eare to mine -Adversary? My Lord (said _Ribi_) never was Libell preferd into this -Court, of such a paltry trifling matter, and therefore I must, and will -have Justice. - -By this time the Judge was dismounted from the Bench, and stood on -the ground, with his slovenly Breeches hanging about his heeles; -_Matteuzzo_ being cunningly stolne away, and undiscovered by anybody. -_Ribi_, thinking he had shamed the Judge sufficiently, went away, -protesting, that he would declare his cause in the hearing of a -wiser Judge. And _Maso_ forbearing to tugge his Gowne any longer, in -his departing, said. Fare you well Sir, you are not worthy to be a -Magistrate, if you have no more regard of your honour and honesty, but -will put off poore mens suites at your pleasure. So both went severall -wayes, and soone were gone out of publike view. - -The worshipfull Judge _Messer Niccolao_ stood all this while on the -ground; and, in presence of all the beholders, trussed up his Breeches, -as if hee were new risen out of his bed: when better bethinking -himselfe on the matters indifference, he called for the two men, who -contended for the drawing stockings and the Cloake-bag; but no one -could tell what was become of them. Whereupon, he rapt out a kinde -of Judges oath, saying: I will know whether it be Law or no heere in -_Florence_, to make a Judge sit bare Breecht on the Bench of Justice, -and in the hearing of criminall Causes; whereat the chiefe Potestate, -and all the standers by laughed heartily. - -Within fewe dayes after, he was informed by some of his especiall -Friends, that this had never happened to him, but onely to testifie, -how understanding the _Florentines_ are, in their ancient constitutions -and customes, to embrace, love and honour, honest, discreet worthy -Judges and Magistrates; Whereas on the contrary, they as much condemne -miserable knaves, fooles, and dolts, who never merit to have any better -entertainment. Wherefore, it would be best for him, to make no more -enquiry after the parties; lest a worse inconvenience should happen to -him. - - - - -Bruno _and_ Buffalmaco, _did steale a young Brawne from_ Calandrino, -_and for his recovery thereof, they used a kinde of pretended -conjuration, with Pilles made of Ginger and strong Malmesey. But -instead of this application, they gave him two Pilles of a Dogges -Dates, or Dowsets, confected in Alloes, which he received each after -the other; by meanes whereof they made him beleeve, that hee had robde -himselfe. And for feare they should report this theft to his wife; they -made him to goe buy another Brawne._ - -The Sixt Novell. - -_Wherein is declared, how easily a plaine and simple man may be made a -foole, when he dealeth with crafty companions._ - - -_Philostratus_ had no sooner concluded his Novell, and the whole -Assembly laughed heartily thereat: but the Queen gave command to Madame -_Philomena_, that shee should follow next in order; whereupon thus shee -began. Worthy Ladies, as _Philostratus_, by calling to memorie the name -of _Maso del Saggio_, hath contented you with another merry Novell -concerning him: in the same manner must I intreat you, to remember once -againe _Calandrino_ and his subtle Consorts, by a pretty tale which I -meane to tell you; how, and in what manner they were revenged on him, -for going to seeke the invisible Stone. - -Needlesse were any fresh relation to you, what manner of people those -three men were, _Calandrino, Bruno,_ and _Buffalmaco,_ because already -you have had sufficient understanding of them. And therefore, as an -induction to my discourse, I must tell you, that _Calandrino_ had -a small Country-house, in a Village some-what neere to _Florence_, -which came to him by the marriage of his Wife. Among other Cattle and -Poultry, which he kept there in store, hee had a young Boare readie -fatted for Brawne, whereof yearly he used to kill one for his owne -provision; and alwaies in the month of December, he and his wife -resorted to their village house, to have a Brawne both killed and -salted. - -It came to passe at this time concerning my Tale, that the Woman being -somewhat crazie and sickly, by her Husbands unkinde usage, whereof you -heard so lately; _Calandrino_ went alone to the killing of his Boare, -which comming to the hearing of _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_, and that the -Woman could by no meanes be there: to passe away the time a little in -merriment, they went to a friendlie Companion of theirs, an honest -joviall Priest, dwelling not farre off from _Calandrinoes_ Countrey -house. - -The same morning as the Boare was kilde, they all three went thither, -and _Calandrino_ seeing them in the Priests companie: bad them all -heartily welcome; and to acquaint them with his good Husbandry, hee -shewed them his house, and the Boare where it hung. They perceyving -it to be faire and fat, knowing also, that _Calandrino_ intended to -salt it for his owne store, _Bruno_ saide unto him: Thou art an Asse -_Calandrino_, sell thy Brawne, and let us make merrie with the money: -then let thy wife know no otherwise, but that it was stolne from thee, -by those theeves which continually haunt country houses, especially in -such scattering Villages. - -Oh mine honest friends, answered _Calandrino_, your counsell is not -to be followed, neither is my wife so easie to be perswaded: this were -the readiest way to make your house a hell, and she to become the -Master-Divell: therefore talke no further, for flatly I will not doe -it. Albeit they laboured him very earnestly, yet all proved not to anie -purpose: onely he desired them to suppe with him, but in so colde a -manner, as they denyed him, and parted thence from him. As they walked -on the way, _Bruno_ saide to _Buffalmaco_. Shall we three (this night) -rob him of his Brawne? Yea marry (quoth _Buffalmaco_) how is it to be -done? I have (saide _Bruno_) alreadie found the meanes to effect it, -if he take it not from the place where last we saw it. Let us doe it -then (answered _Buffalmaco_) why should we not do it? Sir Domine heere -and we, will make good cheare with it among our selves. The nimble -Priest was as forward as the best; and the match being fully agreed -on, _Bruno_ thus spake. My delicate Sir Domine, Art and cunning must -be our maine helps: for thou knowest _Buffalmaco_, what a covetous -wretch _Calandrino_ is, glad and readie to drink alwaies on other mens -expences: let us go take him with us to the Tavern, where the Priest -(for his owne honour and reputation) shall offer to make paiment of the -whole reckoning, without receiving a farthing of his, whereof he will -not be a little joyfull, so shall we bring to passe the rest of the -businesse, because there is no body in the house, but onely himselfe: -for he is best at ease without company. - -As _Bruno_ had propounded, so was it accordingly performed, & when -_Calandrino_ perceyved, that the Priest would suffer none to pay, but -himselfe, he dranke the more freely; and when there was no neede at -all, tooke his Cuppes couragiously, one after another. Two or three -houres of the night were spent, before they parted from the Taverne, -_Calandrino_ going directly home to his house, and instantly to bed, -without any other supper, imagining that he had made fast his doore, -which (indeede) he left wide open: sleeping soundly, without suspition -of any harme intended unto him. _Buffalmaco_ and _Bruno_ went and supt -with the Priest, and so soone as supper was ended, they tooke certaine -Engines, for their better entering into _Calandrinoes_ house, and so -went on to effect theyr purpose. Finding the doore standing readie -open, they entered in, tooke the Brawne, carried it with them to the -Priests house, and afterward went all to bed. - -When _Calandrino_ had well slept after his Wine, he arose in the -morning, and being descended downe the staires, finding the street -doore wide open, he looked for the Brawne, but it was gone. Enquiring -of the neighbours dwelling neere about him, hee could heare no tydings -of his Brawne, but became the wofullest man in the world, telling every -one that his Brawne was stolne. _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_ being risen in -the morning, they went to visite _Calandrino_, to heare how he tooke -the losse of his Brawne: and hee no sooner had a sight of them, but -he called them to him; and with the teares running downe his cheekes, -sayde: Ah my deare friendes, I am robde of my Brawne. _Bruno_ stepping -closely to him, sayde in his eare: It is wonderfull, that once in thy -life time thou canst bee wise. How? answered _Calandrino_, I speake to -you in good earnest. Speake so still in earnest (replied _Bruno_) and -cry it out so loud as thou canst, then let who list beleeve it to be -true. - -_Calandrino_ stampt and fretted exceedingly, saying: As I am a true -man to God, my Prince, and Countrey, I tell thee truly, that my Brawne -is stolne. Say so still I bid thee (answered _Bruno_) and let all the -world beleeve thee, if they list to do so, for I will not. Wouldst -thou, (quoth _Calandrino_) have me damne my selfe to the divell? I see -thou dost not credit what I say: but would I were hanged by the necke, -if it be not true, that my Brawne is stolne. How can it possible be, -replyed _Bruno_? Did not I see it in thy house yesternight? Wouldst -thou have me beleeve, that it is flowne away? Although it is not flowne -away (quoth _Calandrino_) yet I am certain, that it is stolne away: for -which I am weary of my life, because I dare not go home to mine owne -house, in regard my wife will never beleeve it; and yet if she should -credite it, we are sure to have no peace for a twelvemonths space. - -_Bruno_, seeming as if he were more then halfe sorrowfull, yet -supporting still his former jesting humour, saide: Now trust mee -_Calandrino_, if it be so; they that did it are much too blame. -If it be so? answered _Calandrino_, Belike thou wouldst have mee -blaspheme Heaven, and all the Saints therein: I tell thee once againe -_Bruno_, that this last night my Brawne was stolne. Be patient good -_Calandrino_, replyed _Buffalmaco_, and if thy Brawne be stolne from -thee, there are means enow to get it againe. Meanes enow to get it -againe? said _Calandrino_, I would faine heare one likely one, and let -all the rest go by. I am sure _Calandrino_, answered _Buffalmaco_, thou -art verily perswaded, that no Theefe came from _India_, to steale thy -Brawne from thee: in which respect, it must needes then be some of thy -Neighbours: whom if thou couldst lovingly assemble together, I knowe -an experiment to be made with Bread and Cheese, whereby the party that -hath it, will quickly be discovered. - -I have heard (quoth _Bruno_) of such an experiment, and helde it to -be infallible; but it extendeth onely unto persons of Gentilitie, -whereof there are but few dwelling heere about, and in the case of -stealing a Brawne, it is doubtfull to invite them, neither can there -be any certainty of their comming. I confesse what you say, aunswered -_Buffalmaco_, to be very true: but then in this matter, so nerely -concerning us to be done, and for a deare Friend, what is your advice? -I would have Pilles made of Ginger, compounded with your best and -strongest _Malmesey_,** then let the ordinary sort of people be invited -(for such onely are most to be mistrusted) and they will not faile to -come, because they are utterly ignorant of our intention. Besides, the -Pilles may as well bee hallowed and consecrated, as bread and cheese on -the like occasion. Indeede you say true (replyed _Buffalmaco_) but what -is the opinion of _Calandrino_? Is he willing to have this tryall made, -or no? Yes, by all meanes, answered _Calandrino_, for gladly I would -know who hath stolne my Brawne, and your good words have (more then -halfe) comforted me already in this case. - -Well then (quoth _Bruno_) I will take the paines to go to _Florence_, -to provide all things necessarie for this secret service; but I must -bee furnished with money to effect it. _Calandrino_ had some forty -shillings then about him, which he delivered to _Bruno_, who presently -went to _Florence_, to a frend of his an Apothecarie, of whom he -bought a pound of white Ginger, which hee caused him to make uppe -in small Pilles: and two other beside of a Dogges-dates or Dowsets, -confected all over with strong Aloes, yet well moulded in Sugare, -as all the rest were: and because they should the more easily bee -knowne from the other, they were spotted with Gold, in verie formall -and Physicall manner. He bought moreover, a big Flaggon of the best -Malmesey, returning backe with all these things to _Calandrino_, and -directing him in this order. - -You must put some friend in trust, to invite your Neighbours (especially -such as you suspect) to a breakfast in the morning: and because it is -done as a feast in kindnesse, they will come to you the more willingly. -This night will I and _Buffalmaco_ take such order, that the Pilles -shall have the charge imposed on them, and then wee will bring them -hither againe in the morning: and I my selfe (for your sake) will -deliver them to your guests, and performe whatsoever is to bee sayde -or done. On the next morning, a goodly company being assembled, under -a faire Elme before the Church; as well young _Florentynes_ (who -purposely came to make themselves merry) as neighbouring Husbandmen -of the Village: _Bruno_ was to begin the service, with the Pils in a -faire Cup, and _Buffalmaco_ followed him with another Cup, to deliver -the wine out of the Flaggon, all the company beeing set round, as in -a circle; and _Bruno_ with _Buffalmaco_ being in the midst of them, -_Bruno_ thus spake. - -Honest friends, it is fit that I should acquaint you with the occasion, -why we are thus met together, and in this place: because if anie thing -may seeme offensive to you; afterward you shall make no complaint of -me. From _Calandrino_ (our loving friend heere present) yesternight -there was a new-kild fat Brawne taken, but who hath done the deede, -as yet he knoweth not; and because none other, but some one (or more) -heere among us, must needs offend in this case: he, desiring to -understand who they be, would have each man to receive one of these -Pilles, and afterward to drinke of this Wine; assuring you all, that -whosoever stole the Brawne hence, cannot be able to swallow the Pill: -for it will be so extreme bitter in his mouth, as it will enforce him -to Coughe and spet extraordinarily. In which respect, before such a -notorious shame be received, and in so goodly an assembly, as now -are heere present: it were much better for him or them that have the -Brawne, to confesse it in private to this honest Priest, and I will -abstaine from urging anie such publike proofe. - -Every one there present answered, that they were well contented both to -eate and drinke, and let the shame fall where it deserved; whereupon, -_Bruno_ appointing them how they should sit, and placing _Calandrino_ -as one among them: he began his counterfeite exorcisme, giving each -man a Pill, and _Buffalmaco_ a Cup of Wine after it. But when he came -to _Calandrino_, hee tooke one of them, which was made of the Dogges -dates or Dowsets, and delivering it into his hand, presently hee put -it into his mouth and chewed it. So soone as his tongue tasted the -bitter Aloes, he began to coughe and spet extreamly, as being utterly -unable, to endure the bitternesse and noysome smell. The other men -that had receyved the Pils, beganne to gaze one upon another, to see -whose behaviour should discover him; and _Bruno_ having not (as yet) -delivered Pils to them all, proceeded on still in his businesse, as -seeming not to heare any coughing, till one behinde him, saide. What -meaneth _Calandrino_ by this spetting and coughing? - -_Bruno_ sodainely turning him about, and seeing _Calandrino_ to cough -and spet in such sort, saide to the rest. Be not too rash (honest -Friends) in judging of any man, some other matter (then the Pille) may -procure this Coughing, wherefore he shall receive another, the better to -cleare your beleefe concerning him. He having put the second prepared -Pill into his mouth, while _Bruno_ went to serve the rest of the -Guests: if the first was exceeding bitter to his taste, this other made -it a great deale worse, for teares streamed forth of his eyes as bigge -as Cherry-stones, and champing and chewing the Pill, as hoping it would -overcome his coughing; he coughed and spette the more violently, and in -grosser manner then he did before, nor did they give him any wine to -helpe it. - -_Buffalmaco, Bruno,_ and the whole company, perceiving how he continued -still his coughing and spetting; saide all with one voyce, That -_Calandrino_ was the Theefe to himselfe: and gave him manie grosse -speeches beside, all departing home into their houses, very much -displeased and angry with him. After they were gone, none remained -with him but the Priest, _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_, who thus spake to -_Calandrino_. I did ever thinke, that thou wast the theefe thy selfe, -yet thou imputedst thy robbery to some other, for feare we should once -drinke freely of thy purse, as thou hast done many times of ours. -_Calandrino_, who had not yet ended his coughing and spetting, sware -many bitter Oathes, that his Brawne was stolne from him. Talke so long -as thou wilt, quoth _Buffalmaco_, thy knavery is both knowne and seene, -and well thou mayst be ashamed of thy selfe. _Calandrino_ hearing this, -grew desperately angry; and to incense him more, _Bruno_ thus pursued -the matter. - -Hear me _Calandrino_, for I speake to thee in honest earnest, there -was a man in the company, who did eate and drinke heere among thy -neighbours, and plainly told me, that thou keptst a young Lad heere to -do thee service, feeding him with such victuals as thou couldst spare, -by him thou didst send away thy Brawne, to one that bought it of thee -for foure Crownes, onely to cousen thy poore wife and us. Canst thou -not yet learne to leave thy mocking and scorning? Thou hast forgotte, -how thou broughtst us to the plaine of _Mugnone_, to seeke for black -invisible stones: which having found, thou concealedst them to thy -selfe, stealing home invisibly before us, and making us follow like -fooles after thee. - -Now likewise, by horrible lying Oathes, and perjured protestations, -thou wouldst make us to beleeve, that the Brawne (which thou hast -cunningly sold for ready money) was stolne from thee out of thy house, -when thou art onely the Theefe to thy selfe, as by that excellent rule -of Art (which never faileth) hath plainly, to thy shame, appeared. -Wee being so well acquainted with thy delusions, and knowing them -perfectly; now do plainly tell thee, that we mean not to be foold any -more. Nor is it unknowne to thee, what paines wee have taken, in making -this singular peece of proofe. Wherefore we inflict this punishment on -thee, that thou shalt bestow on this honest Priest and us, two couple -of Capons, and a Flaggon of Wine, or else we will discover this knavery -of thine to thy Wife. - -_Calandrino_ perceiving, that all his protestations could winne no -credit with them, who had now the Law remaining in their owne hands, -and purposed to deale with him as they pleased: apparently saw, that -sighing and sorrow did nothing availe him. Moreover, to fall into his -wives tempestuous stormes of chiding, would bee worse to him then -racking or torturing: he gladly therefore gave them money, to buy the -two couple of Capons and Wine, being heartily contented likewise, that -hee was so well delivered from them. So the merry Priest, _Bruno_, and -_Buffalmaco_, having taken good order for salting the Brawne; closely -carried it with them to _Florence_, leaving _Calandrino_ to complaine -of his losse, and well requited, for mocking them with the invisible -stones. - - - - -_A young Gentleman being a Scholler, fell in love with a Ladie, named_ -Helena, _she being a Widdow, and addicted in affection to another -Gentleman. One whole night in cold winter, she caused the Scholler to -expect her comming, in an extreame frost and snow. In revenge whereof, -by his imagined Art and skill, he made her to stand naked on the top of -a Tower, the space of a whole day, and in the hot moneth of July, to be -Sun-burnt and bitten with Waspes and Flies._ - -The Seventh Novell. - -_Serving as an admonition to all Ladies and Gentlewomen, not to mock -or scorne Gentlemen-Schollers, when they make meanes of love to them; -Except they intend to seeke their owne shame, by disgracing them._ - - -Greatly did the Ladies commend Madame _Philomenaes_ Novell, laughing -heartily at poore _Calandrino_, yet grieving withall, that he should -be so knavishly cheated, not onely of his Brawne, but two couple of -Capons, and a Flaggon of Wine beside. But the whole discourse being -ended; the Queene commanded Madame _Pampinea_, to follow next with her -Novell, and presently she thus began. It hapneth oftentimes, (bright -beauties) that mockery falleth onto him, that intended the same unto -another: And therefore I am of opinion, that there is very little -wisedom declared on him or her, who taketh delight in mocking any -person. I must needs confesse, that we have smiled at many mockeries -and deceits, related in those excellent Novels, which we have already -heard; without any due revenge returned, but onely in this last of -silly _Calandrino_. Wherefore, it is now my determination, to urge -a kind of compassionate apprehension, upon a very just retribution, -happening to a Gentlewoman of our Citie, because her scorne fell -deservedly upon her selfe, remaining mocked, and to the perill of her -life. Let me then assure you, that your diligent attention may redound -to your benefit, because if you keepe your selves (henceforward) from -being scorned by others: you shall expresse the greater wisedome, and -be the better warned by their mishaps. - -As yet there are not many yeares over-past, since there dwelt in -_Florence_, a yong Lady, descended of Noble parentage, very beautifull, -of sprightly courage, and sufficiently abounding in the goods of -Fortune, she being named Madame _Helena_. Her delight was to live in -the estate of Widdow-hood, desiring to match her selfe no more in -marriage, because she bare affection to a gallant young Gentleman, -whom she had made her private election of, and with whom (having -excluded all other amorous cares and cogitations) by meanes of her -Waiting-woman, she had divers meetings, and kinde conferences. - -It chanced at the verie same time, another young Gentleman of our -Citie, called _Reniero_, having long studied in the Schooles at -_Paris_, returned home to _Florence_, not to make sale of his Learning -and experience, as many doe: but to understand the reason of things, -as also the causes and effects of them, which is mervailously fitting -for any Gentleman. Being greatly honoured and esteemed of everyone, as -well for his courteous carriage towards all in generall, as for his -knowledge and excellent parts: he lived more like a familiar Citizen, -then in the nature of a Courtly Gentleman, albeit he was choisely -respected in either estate. - -But, as oftentimes it commeth to passe, that such as are endued with -the best judgement and understanding in naturall occasions, are soonest -caught and intangled in the snares of Love: so fel it out with our -Scholler _Reniero_, who being invited to a solemne Feast, in company of -other his especiall Friends; this Lady _Helena_, attyred in her blacke -Garments (as Widdowes commonly use to wear) was likewise there a Guest. -His eye observing her beauty and gracious demeanour, she seemed in his -judgement, to be a Woman so compleate and perfect, as he had never -seene her equall before: & therefore, he accounted the man more then -fortunate, that was worthy to embrace her in his armes. Continuing this -amorous observation of her from time to time, and knowing withall, that -rare and excellent things are not easily obtained, but by painefull -study, labour, and endeavour: hee resolved with himselfe constantly, -to put in practise all his best parts of industry, onely to honour and -please her, and attaining to her contentation, it would be the means to -winne her love, and compasse thereby his hearts desire. - -The yong Lady, who fixed not her eyes on inferiour subjects (but -esteemed her selfe above ordinary reach or capacity) could moove them -artificially, as curious women well know how to doe, looking on every -side about her, yet not in a gadding or grosse manner; for she was -not ignorant in such darting glaunces, as proceeded from an enflamed -affection, which appearing plainely in _Reniero_; with a pretty smile, -shee said to her selfe. I am not come hither this day in vaine; for, if -my judgement faile me not, I thinke I have caught a Woodcocke by the -Bill. And lending him a cunning looke or two, queintly caried with the -corner of her eye; she gave him a kinde of perswading apprehension, -that her heart was the guide to her eye. And in this artificiall** -Schoole-tricke of hers, shee carryed therewith another consideration, -to wit, that the more other eyes fedde themselves on her perfections, -and were (well-neere) lost in them beyond recovery: so much the greater -reason had he to account his fortune beyond comparison, that was the -sole master of her heart, and had her love at his command. - -Our witty Scholler having set aside his Philosophicall considerations, -strove how he might best understand her carriage toward him, and -beleeving that she beheld him with pleasing regards; hee learned to -know the house where shee dwelt, passing daily by the doore divers -times, under colour of some more serious occasions: wherein the Lady -very proudly gloried, in regard of the reasons before alleadged, and -seemed to affoord him lookes of good liking. Being led thus with a -hopefull perswasion, hee founde the meanes to gaine acquaintance with -her waiting-woman, revealing to her his intire affection, desiring her -to worke for him in such sort with her Lady, that his service might be -gracious in her acceptance. The Gentlewoman made him a very willing -promise, and immediately did his errand to her Lady; who heard her with -no small pride and squemishnesse, and breaking forth into a scornefull -laughter, thus she spake. - -_Ancilla_ (for so she was named) dost thou not observe, how this -Scholler is come to lose all the wit heere, which he has studyed so -long for in the University of _Paris_? Let us make him our onely Table -argument, and seeing his folly soareth so high, we will feed him with -such a dyet as hee deserveth. Yet when thou speakest next with him, -tell him, that I affect him more then he can doe me: but it becommeth -me to be carefull of mine honour, and to walke with an untainted brow, -as other Ladies and Gentlewomen doe: which he is not to mislike, if he -be so wise as he maketh shew of, but rather will the more commend me. -Alas good Lady lack-wit, little did she understand (faire assembly) how -dangerous a case it is to deale with Schollers. - -At his next meeting with the waiting woman, shee delivered the message, -as her Lady had command her, whereof poore _Reniero_ was so joyfull: -that hee pursued his love-suite the more earnestly, and began to write -letters, send gifts, and tokens, all which were still received, yet -without any other answere to give hope, but onely in generall, and -thus shee dallied with him a long while. In the end, she discovered -this matter to her secret chosen friend, who fell suddenly sicke of -the head-ake, onely through meere conceit of jealousie: which she -perceiving, and grieving to be suspected without any cause, especially -by him whom shee esteemed above all other; shee intended to rid him -quickely of that Idle disease. And being more and more solicited by the -Scholler, she sent him word by her maide _Ancilla_, that (as yet) she -could find no convenient opportunity, to yeeld him such assurance, as -hee should not any way be distrustfull of her love. - -But the Feast of Christmas was now neere at hand, which afforded -leisures much more hopefull, then any other formerly passed. And -therefore, the next night after the first Feasting day, if he pleased -to walke in the open Court of her house: she would soone send for -him, into a place much better beseeming, and where they might freely -converse together. - -Now was our Scholler the onely jocond man of the world, and failed -not the time assigned him, but went unto the Ladies house, where -_Ancilla_ was ready to give him entertainment, conducting him into the -base Court, where she lockt him up fast, untill her Lady should send -for him. This night shee had privately sent for her friend also, and -sitting merrily at supper with him, told him, what welcome she had -given the Scholler, and how she further meant to use him, saying. Now -Sir, consider with yourselfe, what hot affection I beare to him, of -whom you became so fondly jealous. The which words were very welcome -to him, and made him extraordinarily joyfull; desiring to see them as -effectually performed, as they appeared to him by her protestations. - -Heere you are to understand (Gracious Ladies) that according to the -season of the yeare, a great snow had falne the day before, so as -the whole Court was covered therewith, and being an extreame frost -upon it, our Scholler could not boast of any warme walking, when the -teeth quivered in his head with cold, as a Dog could not be more -discourteously used: yet hope of enjoying Loves recompence at length, -made him to support all this injury with admirable patience. - -Within a while after, Madame _Helena_ said to her friend. Walke with -me (deare heart) into my Chamber, and there at a secret little window, -I shall shew thee what he doth, that drove thee to such a suspition -of me, and we shall heare beside, what answere he will give my maide -_Ancilla_, whom I will send to comfort him in his coldnesse. - -When she had so said, they went to the appointed chamber window, -where they could easily see him, but he not them: and then they heard -_Ancilla_ also, calling to him forth of another windowe, saying. -Signior _Reniero_, my Lady is the wofullest woman in the world, -because (as yet) she cannot come to you, in regard that one of her -brethren came this evening to visite her, and held her with much longer -discourse then she expected: whereby she was constrained to invite him -to sup with her, and yet he is not gone; but shortly I hope hee will, -and then expect her comming presently; till when, she entreateth your -gentle sufferance. - -Poore _Reniero_, our over-credulous Scholler, whose vehement affection -to Madame _Helena_, so hood-winkt the sight of his understanding, as -he could not be distrustfull of any guilt; returned this answere to -_Ancilla_. Say to your Lady that I am bound in duty, to attend the good -houre of her leisure, without so much as the very least prejudicate -conceite in me: Neverthelesse, entreat her, to let it bee so soone as -she possibly may, because here is miserable walking, and it beginneth -againe to snow extreamely. _Ancilla_ making fast the Casement, went -presently to bed; when _Helena_ spake thus to her amorous friend. -What saist thou now? Doest thou thinke that I loved him, as thou wast -afraid of? if I did, he should never walke thus in the frost and snow. -So, away went they likewise from their close gazing window, and spent -wanton dalliances together, laughing, and deriding (with many bitter -taunts and jests) the lamentable condition of poore _Reniero_. - -About the Court walked hee numberlesse times, finding such exercises -as he could best devise, to compasse warmth in any manner: no seate or -shelter had he any where, either to ease himselfe by sitting downe a -while, or keepe him from the snow, falling continually on him, which -made him bestow many curses on the Ladies Brother, for his so long -tarrying with her, as beleeving him verily to be in the house, else she -would (long before) have admitted his entrance, but therein his hope -was meerely deceived. It grew now to be about the houre of midnight, -and _Helena_ had delighted her selfe with her friend extraordinarily, -till at last she spake to him. What is thine opinion of my amourous -Scholler? Which dost thou imagine to be the greatest, either his sense -and judgement, or the affection I beare to him? Is not this cold -sufferance of this, able to quench the violent heate of his loves -extremitie, and having so much snow broth to helpe it? Beleeve me -(sweet Lady) quoth her friend, as hee is a man, and a learned Scholler, -I pitty that he should bee thus ungently dealt withall: but as he is -my rivall and loves enemy, I cannot allow him the least compassion, -resting the more confidently assured of your love to me, which I will -alwayes esteeme most precious. - -When they had spent a long while in this or the like conference, with -infinite sweet kisses and embraces intermixed; then she began againe -in this manner. Deare love (quoth she) cast thy Cloake about thee, as -I intend to doe with my night mantle, and let us step to the little -window once more, to see whether the flaming fire, which burned in the -Schollers brest (as daily avouched to me in his love letters) be as -yet extinct or no. So going to the window againe, and looking downe -into the Court; there they saw the Scholler dancing in the snow, to -the cold tune of his teeths quivering and chattering, and clapping his -armes about his body, which was no pleasing melody to him. How thinkest -thou now sweet heart (saide shee) cannot I make a man daunce without -the sound of a Taber, or of a Bagpipe? Yes beleeve me Lady (quoth he) -I plaine perceive you can, and would be very lothe, that you should -exercise your cunning on me. Nay, said shee, we will yet delight our -selves a little more; let us softly descend downe the stayres, even so -farre as to the Court doore; thou shalt not speake a word, but I will -talke to him, and heare some part of his quivering language, which -cannot choose but bee passing pleasing for us to heare. - -Out of the Chamber went they, and descended downe the stayres to the -Court doore; where, without opening it, she laide her mouth to a small -cranny, and in a low soft kinde of voyce, called him by his name: -which the Scholler hearing, was exceeding joyfull, as beleeving verily, -that the houre of his deliverance was come, and entrance now should be -admitted him. Upon the hearing of her voyce, hee stept close to the -doore, saying. For charities sake, good Lady, let me come in, because -I am almost dead with cold; whereto thus she answered in mocking -manner. I make no doubt (my deare friend _Reniero_) but the night is -indifferent colde, and yet somewhat the warmer by the Snowes falling: -and I have heard that such weather as this, is tenne-times more -extreame at _Paris_, then heere in our warmer Countrey. And trust me, I -am exceeding sorrowfull, that I may not (as yet) open the door, because -mine unhappy brother, who came (unexpected) yester-night to suppe with -mee, is not yet gone, as within a short while (I hope) he will, and -then shall I gladly set open the doore to you, for I made an excuse to -steale a little from him, onely to cheare you with this small kind of -comfort, that his so long tarrying might be the lesse offensive to you. - -Alas sweet Madame, answered quaking and quivering _Reniero_, bee -then so favourable to me, as to free me from forth this open Court, -where there is no shelter or helpe for me, the snow falling still so -exceedingly, as a man might easily be more then halfe buried in it: -let me be but within your doore, and there I will wait your own good -leisure. Alas deare _Reniero_ (answered _Helena_) I dare not doe it, -because the doore maketh such a noyse in the opening, as it will be -too easily heard by my Brother: but I will goe and use such meanes, -as shortly hee shall get him gone, and then I dare boldly give you -entrance. Doe so good Madame, replyed _Reniero_, and let there be a -faire fire made ready, that when I am within, I may the sooner warme my -selfe; for I am so strangely benummed with colde, as well neere I am -past all sence of feeling. - -Can it be possible (quoth _Helena_) that you should be so benummed -with colde? Then I plainely perceive, that men can lye in their love -letters, which I can shew under your own hand, how you fryed in -flames, and all for my love, and so have you written to me in every -letter. Poore credulous women are often thus deluded, in beleeving -what men write and speake out of passion: but I will returne backe to -my Brother, and make no doubt of dispatch, because I would gladly have -your Company. - -The amourous Friend to _Helena_, who stood by all this while, laughing -at the Schollers hard usage, returned up againe with her to her -Chamber, where they could not take a jote of rest, for flouting and -scorning the betrayed Scholler. As for him poore man, hee was become -like the Swanne, coldly chattering his teeth together, in a strange new -kinde of harmony to him. And perceiving himselfe to be meerely mocked, -he attempted to get open the doore, or how he might passe forth at any -other place: but being no way able to compasse it, he walked up and -downe like an angry Lyon, cursing the hard quality of the time, the -discourtesie of the Lady, the over-tedious length of the night; but -(most of all) his owne folly and simplicity, in being so basely abused -and gulde. Now began the heat of his former affection to _Helena_, -altered into as violent a detestation of her; Yea, extremity of hatred -in the highest degree; beating his braines, and ransacking every corner -of invention, by what meanes he might best be revenged on her, which -now he more earnestly desired to effect, then to enjoy the benefit of -her love, or to be embraced betweene her armes. - -After that the sad and discomfortable night had spent it selfe, & the -break of day was beginning to appeare; _Ancilla_ the waiting-woman, -according as she was instructed by her Lady, went downe and opened the -Court doore, and seeming exceedingly to compassionate the Schollers -unfortunate night of sufferance, saide unto him. - -Alas courteous Gentleman, in an unblessed houre came my Ladyes brother -hither yester-night, inflicting too much trouble upon us, and a -grievous time of affliction to you. But I am not ignorant, that you -being vertuous, and a judicious Scholler, have an invincible spirit of -pacience, and sufficient understanding withall; that what this night -could not affoord, another may make a sound amends for. This I can and -dare sufficiently assure you, that nothing could be more displeasing -to my Lady, neither can she well be quieted in her mind: untill she -have made a double and treble requitall, for such a strange unexpected -inconvenience, whereof she had not the very least suspition. - -_Reniero_ swelling with discontentment, yet wisely clouding it from -open apprehension, and knowing well enough, that such golden speeches -and promises, did alwaies favour of what intemperate spleene would more -lavishly have vented foorth, and therefore in a modest dissembling -manner; without the least shew of any anger, thus he answered. - -In good sadnesse _Ancilla_, I have endured the most miserablest night -of colde, frost and snow, that ever any poore Gentleman suffered; but -I know well enough, your Lady was not in any fault thereof, neither -meriteth to be blamed, for in her owne person (as being truely -compassionate of my distresse) she came so farre as the doore of this -Court, to excuse her selfe, and comfort mee. But as you saide, and -very well too, what hath failed this night, another hereafter may more -fortunately performe: in hope whereof, commend my love and duteous -service to her, and (what else remaineth mine) to your gentle selfe. - -So our halfe frozen Scholler, scarcely able to walke upon his legges, -returned home, (so well as hee could) to his owne lodging; where, his -Spirits being grievously out of order, and his eyes staring gastly -through lacke of sleepe: he lay downe on his bed, and after a little -rest, he found himselfe in much worse condition then before, as meerely -taken lame in his armes and his legges. Whereupon he was inforced -to send for Phisitions, to be advised by their councell, in such an -extremity of cold received. Immediately, they made provision for his -healthes remedie (albeit his nerves and sinewes could very hardly -extend themselves) yet in regard he was yong, & Summer swiftly drawing -on; they had the better hope of affecting his safty, out of so great -and dangerous a cold. - -But after he was become almost well and lusty againe, hee used to be -seldome seene abroad for an indifferent while; concealing his intended -revenge secret to himselfe, yet appearing more affectionate to Madame -_Helena_, then formerly he had beene. - -Now, it came to passe (within no long while after) that Fortune being -favourable to our injured Scholler, prepared a new accident, whereby -he might fully effect his harts desire. For the lusty yong Gallant, -who was Madame _Helenaes_ deare darling and delight, and (for whose -sake) she dealt so inhumanely with poore _Reniero_: became weary of her -amourous service, and was falne in liking of another Lady, scorning -and disdaining his former Mistresse; whereat shee grew exceedingly -displeased, and began to languish in sighes and teares. - -But _Ancilla_ her waiting-woman, compassionating the perilous condition -of her Lady, and knowing no likely meanes whereby to conquer this -oppressing melancholly, which shee suffered for the losse of her hearts -chosen friend: at length she began to consider, that the Scholler still -walked daily by the doore, as formerly hee was wont to doe, and (by -him) there might some good be done. - -A fond and foolish opinion overswayed her, that the Scholler was -extraordinarily skilfull in the Art of Nigromancy, and could thereby -so over-rule the heart of her lost friend, as hee should bee compelled -to love her againe, in as effectuall manner as before; herewith -immediately she acquainted her Lady, who being as rashly credulous, as -her maide was opinionative (never considring, that if the Scholler had -any experience in Negromancy, hee would thereby have procured his owne -successe) gave releefe to her surmise, in very Joviall and comfortable -manner, and entreated her in all kindnes, to know of him, whether he -could worke such a businesse, or no, and (upon his undertaking to -effect it) shee would give absolute assurance, that (in recompence -thereof) he should unfainedly obtaine his hearts desire. _Ancilla_ was -quicke and expeditious, in delivering this message to discontented -_Reniero_, whose soule being ready to mount out of his body, onely by -conceit of joy; chearefully thus he said within himselfe. Gracious -Fortune! how highly am I obliged to thee for this so great a favour? -Now thou hast blest me with a happy time, to be justly revenged on so -wicked a woman, who sought the utter ruine of my life, in recompence of -the unfaigned affection I bare her. Returne to thy Lady (quoth he) and -saluting her first on my behalfe, bid her to abandon all care in this -businesse; for, if her amourous Friend were in India, I would make him -come (in meere despight of his heart) and crave mercy of her for his -base transgression. But concerning the meanes how, and in what manner -it is to bee done, especially on her owne behalfe: I will impart it to -her so soone as she pleaseth: faile not to tell her so constantly from -me, with all my utmost paines at her service. - -_Ancilla_ came jocondly home with her answere, and a conclusion was -set downe for their meeting together at _Santa Lucia del prato_, which -accordingly was performed, in very solemne conference between them. -Her fond affection had such power over her, that shee had forgot, into -what peril she brought his life, by such an unnatural night-walke: -but disclosed all her other intention to him, how loth she was to lose -so deare a friend, and desiring him to exercise his utmost height of -skil, with large promises of her manifold favours to him, whereto our -Scholler thus replyed. - -Very true it is Madam, that among other studies at _Paris_, I learned -the Art of Negromancy, the depth whereof I am as skilful in, as anie -other Scholler whatsoever. But, because it is greatly displeasing -unto God, I made a vow never to use it, either for my selfe, or anie -other. Neverthelesse, the love I beare you is of such power, as I -know not well how to denie, whatsoever you please to command me: in -which respect, if in doing you my very best service, I were sure to -bee seized on by all the divels: I will not faile to accomplish your -desire, you onely having the power to command me. But let me tell you -Madame, it is a matter not so easie to be performed, as you perhaps may -rashly imagine, especially, when a Woman would repeale a man to love -her, or a man a woman: because, it is not to be done, but by the person -whom it properly concerneth. And therefore it behoveth, that such would -have this businesse effected, must be of a constant minde, without the -least scruple of feare: because it is to be accomplished in the darke -night season, in which difficulties I doe not know, how you are able -to warrant your selfe, or whether you have such courage of spirit, as -(with boldnes) to adventure. - -Madame _Helena_, more hot in pursuite of her amorous contentment, then -any way governed by temperate discretion, presently thus answered. Sir, -Love hath set such a keene edge on my unconquerable affection, as there -is not any daunger so difficult, but I dare resolutely undertake it, -for the recovery of him, who hath so shamefully refused my kindnesse: -wherefore (if you please) shew mee, wherein I must be so constant and -dreadlesse. The Scholler, who had (more then halfe) caught a right -Ninny-hammer by the beake; thus replyed. Madame, of necessity I must -make an image of Tin, in the name of him whom you desire to recall. -Which when I have sent you, the Moone being then in her full, and your -selfe stript starke naked: immediately after your first sleepe, seaven -times you must bathe your selfe with it in a swift running River. -Afterward, naked as you are, you must climbe up upon some tree, or else -upon an uninhabited house top, where standing dreadlesse of any perill, -and turning your face to the North, with the Image in your hand, seaven -times you must speake such wordes, as I will deliver to you in writing. - -After you have so often spoken them, two goodly Ladies (the very -fairest that ever you beheld) will appeare unto you, very graciously -saluting you, and demanding what you would have them to performe for -you. Safely you may speake unto them, and orderly tel them what you -desire: but be very carefull, that you name not one man insted of -another. When you have uttered your mind, they will depart from you, -and then you may descend againe, to the place where you did leave -your garments, which having putte on, then returne to your house. And -undoubtedly, before the midst of the next night following, your friend -will come in teares to you, and humbly crave your pardon on his knees; -beeing never able afterward to be false to you, or leave your Love for -any other whatsoever. - -The Lady hearing these words, gave very setled beleefe to them, -imagining unfainedly, that shee had (more then halfe) recovered her -friend already, and held him embraced betweene her armes: in which -jocond perswasion, the chearfull** blood mounted up into hir cheekes, -and thus she replyed. Never make you any doubt Sir, but that I can -sufficiently performe whatsoever you have said, and am provided of -the onely place in the world, where such a weighty businesse is to be -effected. For I have a Farme or dairy house, neere adjoyning to the -vale of _Arno_, & closely bordering upon the same River. It beeing now -the moneth of July, the most convenientest time of all the yeare to -bathe in; I can bee the easier induced thereunto. - -Moreover, there is hard by the Rivers side a small Tower or Turret -uninhabited; whereinto few people do sildome enter, but onely Heardsmen -or Flocke-keepers, who ascend uppe (by the helpe of a wodden Ladder) to -a Tarrasse on the top of the saide Tower, to looke all about for their -beasts, when they are wandred astray: it standing in a solitary place, -and out of the common way or resort. There dare I boldly adventure -to mount up, and with the invincible courage of a wronged Lady (not -fearing to looke death himself in the face) do al that you have -prescribed, yea, and much more, to recover my deare lost Lover againe, -whom I value equal with my owne Life. - -_Reniero_, who perfectly knew both the Dairy Farme, and the old smal -Turret, not a little joyfull, to heare how forward shee was to shame her -selfe, answered in this manner. Madame, I was never in those parts of -the Country, albeit they are so neere to our City, & therefore I must -needs be ignorant, not onely of your Farme, but the Turret also. But -if they stand in such convenient manner as you have described, all the -world could not yeelde the like elsewhere, so apt and sutable to your -purpose: wherefore, with such expedition as possibly I can use, I will -make the Image, and send it you, as also the charme, verie fairely -written. But let me entreate you, that when you have obtayned your -hearts desire, and are able to judge truely of my love and service: not -to be unmindfull of me, but (at your best leysure) to performe what -you have with such protestations promised; which shee gave him her hand -and faith to do, without any impeach or hindrance: and so parting, she -returned home to her house. - -Our over-joyed Scholler, applauding his happy Starres, for furthering -him with so faire a way to his revenge; immagining that it was already -halfe executed, made the Image in due forme, & wrote an old Fable, -in sted of a Charme; both which he sent to the Lady, so soone as he -thought the time to be fitting: and this admonition withall, that the -Moone being entering into the full, without any longer delay, she -might venter on the businesse the next night following, and remaine -assured to repossesse her friend. Afterward for the better pleasing -of himselfe, he went secretly attended, onely by his servant, to the -house of a trusty frend of his, who dwelt somwhat neere to the Turret, -there to expect the issue of this Lady-like enterprize. And Madam -_Helena_ accompanied with none but _Ancilla_, walked on to her dairy -Farme, where the night ensuing, pretending to take her rest sooner -then formerly she used to doe, she commanded _Ancilla_ to go to bed, -referring her selfe to her best liking. - -After she had slept her first sleepe (according to the Schollers -direction) departing softly out of her chamber, she went on towards -the ancient Tower, standing hard by the river of _Arno_, looking every -way heedfully about hir, least she should be spied by any person. But -perceiving hir selfe to be so secure as she could desire; putting off -all her garments, she hid them in a small brake of bushes: afterward, -holding the Image in hir hand, seven times she bathd hir body in the -river, and then returned back with it to the Tower. The Scholler, who -at the nights closing up of day, had hid himselfe among the willowes -& other trees, which grew very thick about the Tower, saw both hir -going and returning from the River, and as she passed thus naked by -him, he plainly perceyved, that the nights obscurity could not cloud -the delicate whitenes of hir body, but made the Starres themselves -to gaze amorously on her, even as if they were proud to behold her -bathing, and (like so many twinkling Tapers) shewed hir in emulation of -another _Diana_. Now, what conflicts this sight caused in the mind of -our Scholler, one while, quenching his hatefull spleen towards hir, al -coveting to imbrace a piece of such perfection: another while, thinking -it a purchase fit for one of _Cupids_ soldiers, to seize and surprize -hir uppon so faire an advantage, none being neere to yeild her rescue: -in the fiery triall of such temptations, I am not able to judge, or to -say, what resistance flesh and blood could make, being opposed with -such a sweet enemy. - -But he well considering what she was, the greatnes of his injury, as -also how, and for whom: he forgot all wanton allurements of Love, -scorning to entertaine a thought of compassion, continuing constant -in his resolution, to let her suffer, as he himselfe had done. So, -_Helena_ being mounted up on the Turret, and turning her face towards -the North; she repeated those idle frivolous words (composed in -the nature of a charme) which shee had received from the Scholler. -Afterward, by soft and stealing steps, hee went into the old Tower, and -tooke away the Ladder, whereby she ascended to the Tarras, staying and -listening, how shee proceeded in her amorous exorcisme. - -Seven times she rehearsed the charme to the Image, looking still -when the two Ladies would appeare in their likenesse, and so long -she held on her imprecations (feeling greater cold, then willinglie -she would have done) that breake of day began to shew it selfe, and -halfe despairing of the Ladies comming, according as the Scholler had -promised, she said to her selfe: I much misdoubt, that _Reniero_ hath -quitted me with such another peece of night-service, as it was my lucke -to bestow on him: but if he have done it in that respect, hee was but -ill advised in his revenge, because the night wants now three parts -of the length, as then it had: and the cold which he suffered, was -far superior in quality to mine, albeit it is more sharp now in the -morning, then all the time of night it hath bin. - -And, because day-light should not discover her on the Tarrasse, she -went to make her descent downe againe: but finding the Ladder to be -taken away, & thinking how her publike shame was now inevitable, her -heart dismayed, and shee fell downe in a swoune on the Tarras: yet -recovering her senses afterward, her greefe and sorrow** exceeded all -capacity of utterance. For, now she became fully perswaded, that this -proceeded from the Schollers malice, repenting for her unkinde usage -towards him, but much more condemning her selfe, for reposing any trust -in him, who stood bound (by good reason) to be her enemy. - -Continuing long in this extreame affliction, and surveighing all likely -meanes about her, whereby she might descend from the Tarras, whereof -she was wholly disappointed: she began to sighe and weepe exceedingly, -and in this heavy perplexity of spirit, thus shee complained to her -selfe. Miserable and unfortunate _Helena_, what will be saide by -thy Bretheren, Kindred, Neighbours, and generallie throughout all -_Florence_, when they shall know, that thou wast founde heere on this -Turret, starke naked? Thine honourable carriage, and honesty of life, -heeretofore free from a thought of suspition, shall now be branded with -detestation; and if thou wouldst cloud this mishappe of thine, by such -lies and excuses, as are not rare amongst women: yet _Reniero_ that -wicked Scholler, who knoweth all thy privy compacting, will stand as a -thousand witnesses against thee, and shame thee before the whole City, -so both thine honor and loved friend are lost for ever. - -Having thus consulted with her selfe, many desperate motions entred her -minde, to throw her selfe headlong from off the Tarras; till better -thoughts wone possession of her soule. And the Sunne being risen, shee -went to every corner of the Tarras, to espye any Lad come abroad with -his beasts, by whom she might send for her waiting-woman. About this -instant, the Scholler who lay sleeping (all this while) under a bush, -suddenly awaking; saw her looke over the wall, and she likewise espyed -him; whereupon hee said unto her. Good morrow Madame _Helena_, What? -are the Ladies come yet or no? _Helena_ hearing his scorning question, -and grieving that hee should so delude her; in teares and lamentations, -she intreated him to come neere the Tower, because she desired to -speake with him. Which courtesie he did not deny her, and she lying -groveling upon her brest on the Tarras, to hide her body that no part -thereof might be seene, but her head; weeping, she spake thus to him. - -_Reniero_, upon my credit, if I gave thee an ill nights rest, thou hast -well revenged that wrong on me; for, although wee are now in the moneth -of _July_, I have beene plagued with extremity of colde (in regard of -my nakednesse) even almost frozen to death: beside my continuall teares -and lamenting, that folly perswaded me to beleeve thy protestations, -wherein I account it well-neere miraculous, that mine eyes should be -capable of any sight. And therefore I pray thee, not in respect of any -love which thou canst pretend to beare me; but for regard of thine owne -selfe, being a Gentleman and a Scholler, that this punishment which -thou hast already inflicted upon me, may suffise for my former injuries -towards thee, and to hold thy selfe revenged fully, as also permit -my garments to be brought me, that I may descend from hence, without -taking that from me, which afterward (although thou wouldst) thou canst -never restore me, I meane mine honour. And consider with thy selfe, -that albeit thou didst not injoy my company that unhappy night, yet -thou hast power to command me at any time whensoever, with making many -diversities of amends, for one nights offence only committed. Content -thy selfe then good _Reniero_, and as thou art an honest Gentleman, say -thou art sufficiently revenged on me, in making me dearely confesse -mine owne errour. Never exercise thy malice upon a poore weake woman, -for the Eagle disdaineth to pray on the yeelding Dove: and therefore in -meere pitty, and for manhoods sake, be my release from open shame and -reproch. - -The Scholler, whose envious spleene was swolne very great, in -remembring such a malicious cruelty exercised on him, beholding her -to weepe and make such lamentations; found a fierce conflict in his -thoughts, betweene content and pitty. It did not a little joy and -content him, that the revenge which hee so earnestly desired to -compasse, was now by him so effectually inflicted. And yet (in meere -humanity) pitty provoked him to commisserate the Ladies distressed -condition: but clemency being over-weake to withstand his rigor, thus -he replied. Madame _Helena_, if my entreaties (which, to speake truly, -I never knew how to steepe in tears, nor wrap up my words in sugar -Candie, so cuningly as you women know how to do) could have prevailed, -that miserable night, when I was well-neere frozen to death with cold, -and meerly buried with snow in your Court, not having anie place of -rescue or shelter; your complaints would now the more easily over-rule -me. But if your honor in estimation, bee now more precious to you then -heretofore, and it seemeth so offensive to stand there naked: convert -your perswasions & prayers to him, in whose armes you were that night -imbraced, both of your triumphing in my misery, when poor I, trotted -about your Court, with the teeth quivering in my head, and beating mine -armes about my body, finding no compassion in him, or you. Let him -bring thee thy Garments, let him come helpe thee down with the Ladder, -and let him have the care of thine honour, on whom thou hast bene so -prodigall heretofore in bestowing it, and now hast unwomanly throwne -thy selfe in perill, onely for the maintenance of thine immodest -desires. - -Why dost thou not call on him to come helpe thee? To whom doeth it more -belong, then to him? For thou art his, and he thine, why then shold any -other but he help thee in this distresse? Call him (foole as thou art) -and try, if the love he beareth thee, and thy best understanding joyned -with his, can deliver thee out of my sottish detaining thee. I have -not forgot, that when you both made a pastime of my misery, thou didst -demand of him, which seemed greatest in his opinion, either my sottish -simplicity, or the love thou barest him. I am not now so liberall or -courteous, to desire that of thee, which thou wouldst not grant, if I -did request it: No, no, reserve those night favours for thy amorous -friend, if thou dost escape hence alive to see him againe. As for my -selfe, I leave thee freely to his use and service: because I have -sufficiently payde for a womans falshood, & wise men take such warning, -that they scorne to bee twice deceived, & by one woman. Proceed on -still in thy flattering perswasions, terming me to be a Gentleman and -a Scholler, thereby to win such favor from me, that I should think -thy villany toward me, to be already sufficiently punished. No, -trecherous _Helena_, thy blandishments cannot now hoodwink the eies of -my understanding, as when thou didst out-reach me with thy disloyall -promises and protestations. And let me now tell thee plainely, that all -the while I continued in the Universitie of _Paris_, I never attained -unto so perfect an understanding of my selfe, as in that one miserable -night thou diddest enstruct mee. But admit, that I were enclined unto a -mercifull and compassionate minde, yet thou art none of them, on whome -milde and gracious mercy should any way declare her effects. For, the -end of pennance among savage beasts, such as thou art, and likewise -of due vengeance, ought to be death: whereas among men, it should -suffice according to thine owne saying. Wherefore, in regard that I am -neither an Eagle, nor thou a Dove, but rather a most venomous Serpent: -I purpose with my utmost hatred, and as an ancient enemy to all such as -thou art, to make my revenge famous on thee. - -I am not ignorant, that whatsoever I have already done unto thee, -cannot properly be termed revenge, but rather chastisement; because -revenge ought alwayes to exceede the offence, which (as yet) I am farre -enough from. For, if I did intend to revenge my wrongs, and remembred -thy monstrous cruelty to me: thy life, if I tooke it from thee, and an -hundred more such as thy selfe, were farre insufficient, because in -killing thee, I should kill but a vile inhumane beast, yea, one that -deserved not the name of a Woman. And, to speake truely, Art thou any -more, or better (setting aside thy borrowed haire, and painted beauty, -which in few yeares will leave thee wrinkled and deformed) then the -basest beggarly Chamber-stuffe that can bee? Yet thou soughtest the -death of a Gentleman and Scholler as (in scorne) not long since, thou -didst terme me: whose life may hereafter be more beneficiall unto -the world, then millions of such as thou art, to live in the like -multiplicity of ages. Therefore, if this anguish be sensible to thee, -learne what it is to mocke men of apprehension, and (amongst them -especially) such as are Schollers: to prevent thy falling hereafter -into the like extremity, if it be thy good lucke to escape out of this. - -It appeareth to me, that thou art verie desirous to come downe hither -on the ground; the best counsell that I can give thee, is to leape -downe headlong, that by breaking thy necke (if thy fortune be so faire) -thy life and lothsome qualities ending together, I may sit and smile -at thy deserved destruction. I have no other comfort to give thee, but -only to boast my happinesse, in teaching thee the way to ascend that -Tower, and in thy descending downe (even by what means thy wit can best -devise) make a mockery of me, and say thou hast learned more, then all -my Schollership could instruct thee. - -All the while as _Reniero_ uttered these speeches, the miserable -Lady sighed and wept very grievously, the time running on, and the -Sunne amending higher and higher; but when she heard him silent, thus -she answered. Unkinde and cruell man, if that wretched night was so -greevous to thee, and mine offence appeared so great, as neither my -youth, beautie, teares, and humble intercessions, are able to derive -any mercy from thee; yet let the last consideration moove thee to -some remorse: namely, that I reposed new confidence in thee (when -I had little or no reason at all to trust thee) and discovered the -integritie of my soule unto thee, whereby thou didst compasse the -meanes, to punish me thus deservedly for my sinne. For, if I had not -reposed confidence in thee, thou couldst not (in this manner) have -wrought revenge on me, which although thou didst earnestly covet, yet -my rash credulitie was thy onely helpe. Asswage then thine anger, and -graciously pardon me, wherein if thou wilt be so mercifull to me, and -free me from this fatall Tower: I do heere faithfully promise thee, to -forsake my most false and disloyall friend, electing thee as my Lord -and constant Love for ever. - -Moreover, although thou condemnest my beauty greatly, esteeming it -as a trifle, momentary, and of slender continuance; yet, such as it -is (being comparable with any other womans whatsoever) I am not so -ignorant, that were there no other reason to induce liking thereof: -yet men in the vigour of their youth (as I am sure you think yourselfe -not aged) do hold it for an especiall delight, ordained by nature -for them to admire and honour. And notwithstanding all thy cruelty -extended to mee, yet I cannot be perswaded, that thou art so flinty -or Iron-hearted, as to desire my miserable death, by casting my selfe -headlong downe (like a desperate madde woman) before thy face so to -destroy that beauty, which (if thy Letters lyed not) was once so highly -pleasing in thine eyes. Take pitty then on mee for charities sake, -because the Sunne beginneth to heate extreamely: and as over-much colde -(that unhappy night) was mine offence, so let not over-violent warmth -be now my utter ruine and death. - -The Scholler, who (onely to delight himselfe) maintained this long -discoursing with her, returned her this answere. Madame, you did not -repose such confidence in me, for any good will or affection in you -towards me, but in hope of recovering him whom you had lost; wherein -you merit not a jot of favour, but rather the more sharpe and severe -infliction. And whereas you inferre, that your over-rash credulity, -gave the onely meanes to my revenge: Alas! therein you deceive your -selfe; for I have a thousand crochets working continually in my brain, -whereby to entrap a wiser creature then a woman, yet veiled all under -the cunning cloake of love, but sauced with the bitter Wormewood of -hate. So that, had not this hapned as now it doth, of necessity you -must have falne into another: but, as it hath pleased my happy stars to -favour mee therein, none could proove more to your eternall scandall -and disgrace, then this of your owne devising, which I made choise of, -not in regard of any ease to you, but onely to content my selfe. - -But if all other devises els had failed, my pen was and is my -prevayling Champion, where-with I would have written such and so many -strange matters, concerning you in your very dearest reputation; that -you should have curst the houre of your conception, & wisht your birth -had bin abortive. The powers of the pen are too many & mighty, whereof -such weake wits as have made no experience, are the lesse able to -use any relation. I sweare to you Lady, by my best hopes, that this -revenge which (perhappes) you esteeme great and dishonourable, is no -way compareable to the wounding Lines of a Penne, which can carracter -downe so infinite infamies (yet none but guilty and true taxations) -as will make your owne hands immediate instruments, to teare the eyes -from forth your head, and so bequeath your after dayes unto perpetuall -darkenesse. - -Now, concerning your lost lover, for whose sake you suffer this -unexpected pennance; although your choise hath proved but bad, yet -still continue your affection to him: in regard that I have another -Ladie and Mistresse, of higher and greater desert then you, and to -whome I will continue for ever constant. And whereas you thinke, the -warme beames of the Sunne, will be too hot and scorching for your nice -bodie to endure: remember the extreame cold which you caused mee to -feele, and if you can intermixe some part of that cold with the present -heat, I dare assure you, the Sun (in his highest heate) will be far -more temperate for your feeling. - -The disconsolate Lady perceiving, that the Schollers wordes favoured of -no mercy, but rather as coveting her desperate ending; with the teares -streaming downe her cheekes, thus she replied. Wel Sir, seeing there -is no matter of worth in me, whereby to derive any compassion from -you: yet for that Ladies sake, whom you have elected worthy to enjoy -your love, and so farre excelleth mee in Wisedome; vouchsafe to pardon -mee, and suffer my garments to be brought me, wherewith to cover my -nakednesse, and so to descend downe from this Tower, if it may stand -with your gentle Nature to admit it. - -Now beganne _Reniero_ to laughe very heartily, and perceiving how -swiftly the day ran on in his course, he saide unto her. Beleeve me -Madame _Helena_, you have so conjured me by mine endeered Ladie and -Mistresse, that I am no longer able to deny you; wherefore, tell me -where your garments are, and I will bring them to you, that you may -come downe from the Turret. She beleeving his promise, tolde him where -she had hid them, and _Reniero_ departing from the Tower, commanded his -servant, not to stirre thence: but to abide still so neere it, as none -might get entrance there till his returning. Which charge was no sooner -given to his man, but hee went to the house of a neere neighbouring -friend, where he dined well, and afterward laid him downe to sleepe. - -In the meane while, Madame _Helena_ remaining still on the Tower, -began to comfort her selfe with a little vaine hope, yet sighing and -weeping incessantly, seating her selfe so well as shee could, where -any small shelter might yeelde the least shade, in expectation of the -Schollers returning: one while weeping, then againe hoping, but most -of all despairing, by his so long tarrying away with her Garments; so -that beeing over-wearied with anguish and long watching, she fell into -a little slumbering. But the Sunne was so extreamly hot, the houre of -noone being already past, that it meerly parched her delicate body, -and burnt her bare head so violently: as not onely it seared all the -flesh it touched; but also cleft & chinkt it strangely, beside blisters -and other painfull scorchings in the flesh which hindred her sleeping, -to help her self (by all possible means) waking. And the Turret being -covered with Lead, gave the greater addition to her torment; for, as -she removed from one place to another, it yeelded no mitigation to the -burning heate, but parched and wrinkled the flesh extraordinarily, even -as when a piece of parchment is throwne into the fire, and recovered -out againe, can never be extended to his former forme. - -Moreover, she was so grievously payned with the head-ake, as it seemed -to split in a thousand pieces, whereat there needed no great marvaile, -the Lead of the Turret being so exceedingly hot, that it affoorded not -the least defence against it, or any repose to qualifie the torment: -but drove her still from one place to another, in hope of ease, but -none was there to be found. - -Nor was there any winde at all stirring, whereby to asswage the Sunnes -violent scalding, or keepe away huge swarmes of Waspes, Hornets, and -terrible byting Flyes, which vexed her extreamely, feeding on those -parts of her body, that were rifte and chinkt, like crannies in a -mortered wall, and pained her like so many points of pricking Needles, -labouring still with her hands to beate them away, but yet they fastned -on one place or other, and afflicted her in grievous manner, causing -her to curse her owne life, hir amorous friend, but (most of all) the -Scholler, that promised to bring her Garments, and as yet returned not. -Now began she to gaze upon every side about her, to espy some labouring -Husbandmen in the fields, to whom she might call or cry out for helpe, -not fearing to discover her desperate condition: but Fortune therein -also was adverse to her, because the heats extreamity, had driven all -the village out of the fields, causing them to feede their Cattle about -theyr owne houses, or in remote and shadie Valleyes: so that shee -could see no other creatures to comfort her, but Swannes swimming in -the River of _Arno_, and wishing her selfe there a thousand times with -them, for to coole the extreamity of her thirst, which so much the more -encreased, onely by the sight thereof, and utterly disabled of having -any. - -She saw beside in many places about her, goodly Woods, fayre coole -shades, and Country houses here and there dispersed; which added the -greater violence to hir affliction, that her desires (in all these) -could no way be accomplished. What shall I say more concerning this -disastrous Lady? The parching beames of the Sunne above her, the -scalding heat of the Lead beneath her, the Hornets and Flyes everie -way stinging her, had made such an alteration of her beautifull bodie: -that, as it checkt and controlled the precedent nights darkenesse, it -was now so metamorphosed with rednesse, yea, and blood issuing forth -in infinite places, as she seemed (almost) loathsome to looke on, -continuing still in this agonie of torment, quite voyde of all hope, -and rather expecting death, then any other comfort. - -_Reniero_, when some three houres of the afternoone were overpast, -awaked from sleeping: and remembring Madame _Helena_, he went to see -in what estate she was; as also to send his servant unto dinner, -because he had fasted all that day. She perceyving his arrivall, being -altogether weake, faint, and wonderously over-wearied, she crept on -her knees to a corner of the Turret, and calling to him, spake in this -manner. _Reniero_, thy revenge exceedeth al manhoode and respect: For, -if thou wast almost frozen in my Court, thou hast roasted me all day -long on this Tower, yea, meerly broyled my poore naked bodie, beside -starving mee thorough want of Food and drinke. Be now then so mercifull -(for manhoods sake) as to come uppe hither, and inflict that on me, -which mine owne hands are not strong enough to do, I meane the ending -of my loathed and wearisome life, for I desire it beyond all comfort -else, and I shall honour thee in the performance of it. If thou deny me -this gracious favour; at least send me uppe a glasse of Water, onely to -moisten my mouth, which my teares (being all meerly dried up) are not -able to doe, so extreame is the violence of the Sunnes burning heate. - -Well perceived the Scholler, by the weaknesse of her voyce, and -scorching of her body by the Suns parching beames, that shee was -brought now to great extremity: which sight, as also her humble -intercession, began to touch him with some compassion, nevertheles, -thus he replied. Wicked woman, my hands shall be no means of thy death, -but make use of thine owne, if thou be so desirous to have it: and as -much water shalt thou get of me to asswage thy thirst, as thou gavest -me fire to comfort my freezing, when thou wast in the luxurious heat of -thy immodest desires, and I wel-neere frozen to death with extremity of -cold. Pray that the Evening may raine downe Rose-water on thee, because -that in the River of _Arno_ is not good enough for thee: for as little -pitty doe I take on thee now, as thou didst extend compassion to me -then. - -Miserable Woman that I am, answered _Helena_; Why did the heavens -bestow beautie on mee, which others have admired and honoured, and yet -(by thee) is utterly despised? More cruell art thou then any savage -Beast; thus to vexe and torment mee in such mercilesse manner. What -greater extreamity couldst thou inflict on me, if I had bin the -destruction of all thy Kindred, and lefte no one man living of thy -race? I am verily perswaded, that more cruelty cannot be used against -a Traitor, who was the subversion of a whole Cittie, then this tyranny -of thine, roasting me thus in the beames of the Sun, and suffering my -body to be devoured with Flies, without so small a mercie; as to give -mee a little coole water, which murtherers are permitted to have, being -condemned by Justice, and led to execution: yea Wine also, if they -request it. - -But, seeing thou art so constant in thy pernitious resolve, as neither -thine owne good Nature, nor this lamentable sufferance in me, are able -to alter thee: I will prepare my self for death patiently, to the -end, that Heaven may be mercifull to my soul, and reward thee justly, -according to thy cruelty. Which words being ended, she withdrew her -selfe towards the middest of the Tarras, despairing of escaping (with -life) from the heates violence; and not once onely, but infinite times -beside (among her other grievous extreamities) she was ready to dye -with drought, bemoaning incessantly her dolorous condition. - -By this time the day was well neere spent, and night beganne to -hasten on apace: when the Scholler (immagining that he afflicted her -sufficiently) tooke her Garments, and wrapping them up in his mans -Cloake, went thence to the Ladies house, where he found _Ancilla_ the -Waiting-woman sitting at the doore, sad and disconsolate for her Ladies -long absence, to whom thus he spake. How now _Ancilla_? Where is thy -Lady and Mistris? Alas Sir (quoth she) I know not. I thought this -morning to have found her in her bed, as usually I was wont to do, and -where I left her yesternight at our parting: but there she was not, nor -in any place else of my knowledge, neyther can I imagine what is become -of her, which is to me no meane discomfort. - -But can you (Sir) say any thing of her? _Ancilla_, said he, I would -thou hadst bin in her company, and at the same place where now she is, -that some punishment for thy fault might have falne uppon thee, as -already it hath done on her. But beleeve it assuredly, that thou shalt -not freely escape from my fingers, till I have justly paide thee for -thy paines, to teach thee to abuse any Gentleman, as thou didst me. - -Having thus spoken, hee called to his servant, saying. Give her the -Garments, and bid her go looke her Lady, if she will. The Servingman -fulfilled his Masters command, and _Ancilla_ having receyved her Ladies -cloaths, knowing them perfectly, and remembring (withall) what had -bin said: she waxed very doubtfull, least they had slaine her, hardly -refraining from exclaiming on them, but that greefe and heavie weeping -overcame her; so that uppon the Schollers departing, she ranne in all -hast with the garments towardes the Tower. - -Upon this fatall and unfortunate day to Madame _Helena_, it chanced, -that a Clowne or Countrey Peazant belonging to her Farme or Dairy -house, having two of his young Heyfers wandred astray, and he -labouring in diligent search to finde them: within a while after the -Schollers departure, came to seeke them in Woods about the Tower, and, -notwithstanding all his crying and calling for his beasts, yet he -heard the Ladies greevous moanes and lamentations. Wherefore, he cryed -out so lowd as he could, saying: Who is it that mourneth so aloft on -the Tower? Full well she knew the voyce of her peazant, and therefore -called unto him, and sayd in this manner. - -Go (quoth she) I pray thee for my Waiting-woman _Ancilla_, and bid her -make some meanes to come up hither to me. The Clowne knowing his Lady, -sayde. How now Madame? Who hath carried you up there so high? Your -Woman _Ancilla_ hath sought for you all this day, yet no one could ever -have immagined you to bee there. So looking about him, he espyed the -two sides of the Ladder, which the Scholler had pulled in sunder; as -also the steppes, which he had scattered thereabout; placing them in -due order againe as they should bee, and binding them fast with Withies -and Willowes. - -By this time _Ancilla_ was come thither, who so soone as shee was -entred into the Tower, could not refrain from teares & complaints, -beating her hands each against other, and crying out. Madam, Madam, my -deare Lady and Mistresse! Alas, Where are you? So soone as she heard -the tongue of _Ancilla_, she replyed (so well as she could) saying: Ah -my sweet Woman, I am heere aloft uppon the Tarras; weepe not, neyther -make any noyse, but quickely bring me some of my Garments. When shee -heard her answer in such comfortable manner, she mounted up the Ladder, -which the peazant had made very firme and strong, holding it fast -for her safer ascending; by which meanes she went upon the Tarras. -Beholding her Ladie in so strange a condition, resembling no humane -body, but rather the trunke of a Tree halfe burned, lying flat on her -face, naked, scorched and strangely deformed: shee beganne to teare the -lockes of her owne hayre, raving and raging in as pittifull manner, -as if her Ladie had beene quite dead. Which storming tempest, Madame -_Helena_ soone pacified, entreating her to use silence, and helpe to -put on her garments. - -Having understood by her, that no one knew of her being there, but such -as brought her cloathes, and the poore peazant, attending there still -to do her any service: shee became the better comforted, entreating -them by all meanes, that it might bee concealed from any further -discovery, which was on eyther side, most faithfullie protested. - -The poore Clowne holpe to beare downe his Lady uppon his backe, because -the Ladder stood not conveniently enough for her descending, neither -were her limbes plyable for her owne use, by reason of their rifts and -smarting. _Ancilla_ following after, and being more respective of her -Lady, then her owne security in descending; missing the step in the -midst of the Ladder, fell downe to the ground, and quite brake her -legge in the fall, the paine whereof was so greevous to her, that she -cried and roared extraordinarily, even like a Lyon in the desert. - -When the Clowne had set his Lady safe on a faire green banke, he -returned to see what the waiting woman ayled, and finding her leg to -be quite broken: he caried her also to the same banke, & there seated -her by her Lady: who perceiving what a mischance had hapned, and she, -from whom she expected her onely best helpe, to bee now in far greater -necessity her selfe: shee lamented exceedingly, complaining on Fortunes -cruel malice toward her, in thus heaping one misery upon another, and -never ceasing to torment her, especially now in the conclusion of all, -and when shee thought all future perils to be past. - -Now was the Sun upon his setting, when the poore honest country-man, -because darke night should not overtake them, conducted the Lady home -to his owne house: and gaining the assistance of his two brethren and -wife, setting the waiting-woman in a Chaire, thither they brought -her in like manner. And questionles, there wanted no diligence and -comfortable language, to pacifie the Ladyes continuall lamentations. -The good wife, led the Lady into hir own poore lodging, where (such -cates as they had to feede on) lovingly she set before her: conveying -her afterward into her owne bed, and taking such good order, that -_Ancilla_ was carried in the night time to _Florence_, to prevent all -further ensuing danger, by reason of her legs breaking. - -Madame _Helena_, to colour this misfortune of her owne: as also the -great mishap of her woman: forged an artificiall and cunning tale, to -give some formall apparance of hir being in the Tower, perswading the -poore simple Country people, that in a straunge accident of thunder and -lightning, and by the illusions of wicked spirits, all this adventure -hapned to her. Then Physitians were sent for; who, not without much -anguish and affliction to the Ladie (by reason of her fleshes flaying -off, with the Medicines and Emplaysters applyed to the body) was glad -to suffer whatsoever they did, beside falling into a very dangerous -Feaver; out of which she was not recovered in a long while after, but -continued in daily dispayre of her life; beside other accidents hapning -in her time of Physicke, utterly unavoydable in such extreamities: and -hardly had _Ancilla_ her legge cured. - -By this unexpected pennance imposed on Madame _Helena_, she utterly -forgot her amorous friend, and (from thence forward) carefully kept -her selfe from fond loves allurements, and such scornfull behaviour, -wherein she was most disorderly faulty. And _Reniero_ the Scholler, -understanding that _Ancilla_ had broken her leg, which he reputed as a -punishment sufficient for her, held himselfe satisfyed, because neither -the Mistresse nor her Maide, could now make any great boast, of his -nights hard entertainment, and so concealed all matters else. - -Thus a wanton-headed Lady, could finde no other subject to worke her -mocking folly on, but a learned Scholler, of whom shee made no more -respect, then any other ordinary man. Never remembring, that such men -are expert (I cannot say all, but the greater part of them) to helpe -the frenzie of foolish Ladies, that must injoy their loose desires, by -Negromancy, and the Divelles meanes. Let it therefore (faire Ladies) -be my loving admonition to you, to detest all unwomanly mocking and -scorning, but more especiallie to Schollers. - - - - -_Two neere dwelling Neighbours, the one beeing named_ Spinelloccio -Tavena, _and the other_ Zeppa di Mino, _frequenting each others company -daily together;_ Spinelloccio _Cuckolded his Friend and Neighbour. -Which happening to the knowledge of_ Zeppa, _he prevailed so well with -the Wife of_ Spinelloccio, _that he being lockt up in a Chest, he -revenged his wrong at that instant, so that neither of them complained -of his misfortune._ - -The Eight Novell. - -_Wherein is approved, that he which offereth shame and disgrace to his -Neighbour; may receive the like injury (if not in worse manner) by the -same man._ - - -Greevous, and full of compassion, appeared the hard Fortunes of Madame -_Helena_ to be, having much discontented, and (well-neere) wearied all -the Ladies in hearing them recounted. But because they were very justly -inflicted upon her, and according as (in equity) shee had deserved, -they were the more moderate in their commisseration: howbeit, they -reputed the Scholler not onely over-obstinate, but also too strict, -rigorous and severe. Wherefore, when Madame _Pampinea_ had finished hir -Novell, the Queene gave command to Madame _Fiammetta_, that she should -follow next with her discourse; whereto shee shewing obedience, thus -beganne. - -Because it appeareth in my judgement (faire Ladyes) that the Schollers -cruelty hath much displeased you, making you more melancholly then -this time requireth: I holde it therefore very convenient, that your -contristed spirits should be chearfully revived, with matter more -pleasing and delightfull. And therefore, I mean to report a Novell of a -certaine man, who tooke an injury done him, in much milder manner, and -revenged his wrong more moderately, then the furious incensed Scholler -did. Whereby you may comprehend, that it is sufficient for any man, and -so he ought to esteeme it, to serve another with the same sawce, which -the offending party caused him first to taste of: without coveting any -stricter revenge, then agreeth with the quality of the injury received. - -Know then (Gracious assembly) that, as I have heretofore heard, there -lived not long since in _Sienna_, two young men, of honest parentage -and equall condition, neither of the best, nor yet the meanest calling -in the City: the one being named _Spinelloccio Tavena_, and the other -tearmed _Zeppa di Mino_, their houses Neighbouring together in the -streete _Camollia_. Seldome the one walked abroade without the others -Company, and their houses allowed equall welcome to them both; so that -by outward demonstrations, & inward mutuall affection, as far as humane -capacity had power to extend, they lived and loved like two Brethren, -they both beeing wealthy, and married unto two beautifull women. - -It came to passe, that _Spinelloccio_, by often resorting to the -house of _Zeppa_, as well in his absence, as when he abode at home; -beganne to glance amorous looks on _Zeppaes_ wife, and pursued his -unneighbourly purpose in such sort: that hee being the stronger -perswader, and she (belike) too credulous in beleeving, or else -over-feeble in resisting; from private imparlance, they fell to action; -and continued their close fight a long while together, unseene and -without suspition, no doubt to their equall joy and contentment. - -But, whether as a just punishment, for breaking so loving a league of -friendship and neighbour-hood, or rather a fatall infliction, evermore -attending on the closest Cuckoldry, their felicity still continuing -in this kinde: it fortuned on a day, _Zeppa_ abiding within doors, -contrary to the knowledge of his wife, _Spinelloccio_ came to enquire -for him, and she answering (as she verily supposed) that he was gon -abroad: uppe they went both together into the Hall, and nobodie -being there to hinder what they intended, they fell to their wonted -recreation without any feare, kissing and embracing as Lovers use to do. - -_Zeppa_ seeing all this, spake not one word, neither made any noise at -all; but kept himselfe closely hidden, to observe the yssue of this -amorous conflict. To be briefe, he saw _Spinelloccio_ goe with his wife -into the Chamber, and make the doore fast after them, whereat he could -have beene angry, which he held to be no part of true wisedome. For he -knew well enough, that to make an out crie in this case, or otherwise -to reveale this kinde of injury, it could no way make it lesse, but -rather give a greater addition of shame and scandall: he thought this -no course for him to take; wiser considerations entred his braine, to -have this wrong fully revenged, yet with such a discreete and orderly -carriage, as no neighbours knowledge should by any meanes apprehend it, -or the least signe of discontent in himselfe blabbe it, because they -were two daungerous evils. - -Many notable courses wheeled about his conceit, every one promising -fairely, and ministring meanes of formall apparance, yet one (above -the rest) wonne his absolute allowance, which he intended to prosecute -as best he might. In which resolution, he kept still very close, so -long as _Spinelloccio_ was with his Wife; but hee being gone, he went -into the Chamber, where he found his wife, amending the forme of her -head attyre, which _Spinelloccio_ had put into a disordred fashion. -Wife (quoth he) what art thou doing? Why? Do you not see Husband? -answered she. Yes that I do wife, replied _Zeppa_, and something else -happened to my sight, which I could wish that I had not seene. Rougher -Language growing betweene them, of his avouching, and her as stout -denying, with defending her cause over-weakely, against the manifest -proofes both of eye and eare; at last she fell on her knees before -him, weeping incessantly, and no excuses now availing, she confest her -long acquaintance with _Spinelloccio_, and most humbly entreated him -to forgive her. Uppon the which penitent confession and submission, -_Zeppa_ thus answered. - -Wife, if inward contrition be answerable to thy outward seeming sorrow, -then I make no doubt, but faithfully thou dost acknowledge thine owne -evill dooing: for which, if thou expectest pardon of me; determine -then to fulfill effectually, such a busines as I must enjoyne, and -thou performe. I command thee to tell _Spinelloccio_, that to morrow -morning, about nine of the clocke, we being both abroad walking, he -must finde some apt occasion to leave my company, and then come hither -to visit thee. When he is here, sodainly will I returne home; and upon -thy hearing of my entraunce: to save his owne credite, and thee from -detection, thou shalt require him to enter this Chest, untill such time -as I am gone forth againe; which he doing, for both your safeties, so -soon as he is in the chest, take the key and locke him up fast. When -thou hast effected this, then shall I acquaint thee with the rest -remaining, which also must be done by thee, without dread of the least -harme to him or thee, because there is no malicious meaning in me, but -such as (I am perswaded) thou canst not justly mislike. The wife, to -make some satisfaction for her offence committed, promised that she -would performe it, and so she did. - -On the morrow morning, the houre of nine being come, when _Zeppa_ -and _Spinelloccio_ were walking abroad together, _Spinelloccio_ -remembring his promise unto his Mistresse, and the clocke telling him -the appointed houre, hee saide to _Zeppa_. I am to dine this day with -an especiall friend of mine, who I would be loath should tarry for my -comming; and therefore holde my departure excused. How now? answered -_Zeppa_, the time for dinner is yet farre enough off, wherefore then -should we part so soone? Yea but _Zeppa_, replied _Spinelloccio_, wee -have weighty matters to confer on before dinner, which will require -three houres space at the least, and therefore it behoveth me to -respect due time. - -_Spinelloccio_ being departed from Zeppa (who followed faire and softly -after him) being come to the house, and kindly welcommed by the wife: -they were no sooner gone up the staires, and entering in at the Chamber -doore; but the Woman heard her Husband cough, and also his comming up -the staires. Alas deare _Spinelloccio_ (quoth she) what shall we do? My -Husband is comming uppe, and we shall be both taken tardie, step into -this Chest, lye downe there and stirre not, till I have sent him forth -againe, which shall be within a very short while. _Spinelloccio_ was -not a little joyfull for her good advice; downe in the Chest lay he, -and she lockt him in: by which time _Zeppa_ was entred the Chamber. -Where are you Wife? said he, (speaking so loud, as hee in the Chest -might heare him) What, is it time to go to dinner? It will be anon Sir, -answered she, as yet it is overearly; but seeing you are come, the more -hast shall be made, and every thing will be ready quickly. - -_Zeppa_, sitting downe upon the Chest, wherein _Spinelloccio_ lay not a -little affrighted, speaking still aloud, as formerly he did: Come hither -Wife (quoth he) how shall we do for some good companie to dine with -us? Mine honest kinde neighbour _Spinelloccio_ is not at home, because -he dineth forth to day with a deare friend of his, by which meanes, -his wife is left at home alone: give her a call out at our Window, and -desire her to come dine with us: for we two can make no merry Musicke, -except some more come to fill up the consort. - -His Wife being very timorous, yet diligent to doe whatsoever he -commanded, so prevailed with the Wife of _Spinelloccio_: that she came -to them quickely, and so much the rather, because her Husband dined -abroad. Shee being come up into the Chamber, _Zeppa_ gave her most -kinde entertainment, taking her gently by the hand, and winking on his -Wife, that she should betake her selfe to the kitchin, to see dinner -speedily prepared, while he sat conversing with his neighbour in the -Chamber. - -His wife being gone, he shut the doore after her, which the new-come -Neighbour perceyving, she sayde. Our blessed Lady defend me. _Zeppa_, -What is your meaning in this? Have you caused me to come hither to -this intent? Is this the love you beare to _Spinelloccio_, and your -professed loyalty in friendshippe? _Zeppa_, seating her downe on the -Chest, wherein her Husband was inclosed, entreating her patience, thus -began. Kinde and loving Neighbour, before you adventure too farre in -anger, vouchsafe to heare what I shall tell you. - -I have loved, and still doe love, _Spinelloccio_ as my brother, but -yesterday (albeit he knoweth it not) I found, the honest trust I -reposed in him, deserved no other, or better recompence, but even to be -bold with my wife, in the selfesame manner as I am, and as hee ought -to do with none but you. Now, in regard of the love which I beare him, -I intend to be no otherwise revenged on him, but in the same kinde as -the offence was committed. He hath bin more then familiar with my wife, -I must borrow the selfe-same courtesie of you, which in equity you -cannot deny mee, weighing the wrong you have sustained by my wife. Our -injuries are alike, in your Husband to me, and in my wife to you: let -then their punishment and ours be alike also, as they, so we; for in -this case there can be no juster revenge. - -The Woman hearing this, and perceiving the manifolde confirmations -thereof, protested (on solemne oath) by _Zeppa_; hir beliefe grew -setled, and thus she answered. My loving neighbour** _Zeppa_, seeing this -kinde of revenge is (in meere justice) imposed on mee, and ordained as -a due scourge, as well to the breach of friendship and neighbour-hood, -as abuse of his true and loyall wife: I am the more willing to consent: -alwaies provided, that it be no imbarrement of love betweene your wife -and mee, albeit I have good reason to alledge, that she began the -quarrell first: and what I do is but to right my wrong, as any other -woman of spirit would do: Afterwards, we may the more easily pardon one -another. For breach of peace (answered _Zeppa_) between my wife and -you, take my honest word for your warrant. Moreover, in requitall of -this favour to mee, I will bestowe a deare and precious Jewell on you, -excelling all the rest which you have beside. - -In delivering these words, he sweetly kissed and embraced her, as -she sat on the Chest wherein her husband lay: now, what they did -else beside, in recompence of the wrong received, I leave to your -imagination, as rather deserving silence, then immodest blabbing. -_Spinelloccio_, being all this while in the Chest, hearing easily all -the words which _Zeppa_ had uttered, the answer of his wife, as also -what Musicke they made over his head: you may guesse in what a case -he was, his heart being ready to split with rage, and, but that hee -stood in feare of _Zeppa_, he would have railde and exclaimed on his -wife, as thus hee lay shut up in the Chest. But entering into better -consideration, that so great an injury was first begun by himselfe, & -_Zeppa_ did no more, then in reason and equity he might well do (having -evermore carried himselfe like a kinde neighbour and frend towards him, -without the least offer of distaste) he faithfully resolved, to be a -firmer friend to _Zeppa_ then formerly hee had bin, if it might be -embraced and accepted on the other side. - -Delights and pleasures, be they never so long in contenting and -continuance, yet they come to a period and conclusion at last: So -_Zeppa_, having ended his amorous combate, and over the head of -his perfidious friend, thought himselfe sufficiently revenged. But -now, in consideration of a further promise made on the bargaine; -_Spinelloccioes_ wife challengeth the Jewell, then which kind of -recompence, nothing can be more welcome to women. Heereupon, _Zeppa_ -calling for his owne wife, commanded her to open the Chest; which shee -did, and he merrily smiling, saide. Well wife, you have given mee -a Cake insted of bread, and you shall lose nothing for your labour. -So _Spinelloccio_ comming forth of the Chest, it requireth a better -witte then mine, to tell you, which of them stood most confounded with -shame, either _Spinelloccio_ seeing _Zeppa_, and knowing well enough -what he had done: or the woman beholding her husband, who easily heard -all their familiar conference, and the action thereupon so deservedly -performed. - -See neighbour, is not this your dearest Jewell? Having kept it awhile -in my wives custody; according to my promise, here I deliver it you. -_Spinelloccio_ being glad of his deliverance out of the Chest, albeit -not a little ashamed of himselfe; without using many impertinent -words, saide. _Zeppa_, our wrongs are equally requited on each other, -and therefore I allow thy former speeches to my Wife, that thou wast -my friend, as I am the like to thee, and so I pray thee let us still -continue. For nothing else is now to bee divided betweene us, seeing -we have shared alike in our wives, which none knowing but our selves, -let it be as closely kept to our selves. _Zeppa_ was wel pleased with -the motion, and so all foure dined lovingly together, without any -variance or discontentment. And thence forward, each of the Women had -two Husbands, as either Husband enjoyed two Wives, without further -contention or debate. - - - - -_Maestro_ Simone, _an ydle-headed Doctor of Physicke, was throwne by_ -Bruno _and_ Buffalmaco, _into a common Leystall of Filth: The Physitian -fondly beleeving, that (in the night time) he should bee made one of a -new created Company, who usually went to see wonders, at_ Corsica; _and -there in the Leystall they left him._ - -The Ninth Novell. - -_Wherein is approved, that Titles of Honour, Learning, and Dignity, are -not alwayes bestowne on the wisest men._ - - -After that the Ladies had a while considered, on the communication -betweene the two Wives of _Sienna_, and the falshood in friendship of -their Husbands: the Queene, who was the last to recount her Novell, -without offering injurie to _Dioneus_, began to speake thus. - -The reward for a precedent Wrong committed, which _Zeppa_ retorted upon -_Spinelloccio_, was answerable to his desert, and no more then equity -required, in which respect, I am of opinion, that such men ought not to -be over-sharpely reproved, as do injurie to him, who seeketh for it, -and justly should have it, althogh Madam _Pampinea_ (not long since) -avouched the contrary. Now, it evidently appeareth, that _Spinelloccio_ -well deserved what was done to him, and I purpose to speake of another, -who needs would seeke after his owne disgrace. The rather to confirme -my former speeches, that they which beguile such wilfull foolish men; -are not to bee blamed, but rather commended. And he unto whom the shame -was done, was a Physitian, which came from _Bologna_ to _Florence_; and -returned thither againe like unto a Beast, notoriously baffulled and -disgraced. - -It is a matter well knowne to us, and (almost) observed day by day, -that divers of our Citizens, when they returne from their studying -at _Bologna_: one becommeth an Advocate, another a Physitian, and a -third a Notarie, with long & large gowns, some of Scarlet, and hoods -furred with Minever, beside divers other great apparances, succeeding -effectually daily in their severall kinds. Among whom, there returned -(not long since) thence, one Master _Simon da Villa_, more rich in -possessions left him by his parents, then anie knowledge thereto -obtained: yet cloathed in Scarlet, with his Miniver hood, and styled -a Doctor of Physicke, which title hee onely bestowed on himselfe, and -tooke a goodly house for his dwelling, in the street which wee commonly -call _La via del Cocomero_. This Master Doctor _Simon_, being thus -newly come thither, among other notable qualities in him, had one more -especial then any of the rest, namely, to know the names and conditions -of such persons, as daily passed by his doore, and what professions -they were of, whereby any likelyhood might be gathered of needing his -helpe, and being his patients, observing them all with very vigilant -care. - -But, among all the rest by him thus warily noted, he most observed -two Painters, of whom we have heeretofore twice discoursed, _Bruno_ -and _Buffalmaco_, who walked continually together, and were his neere -dwelling neighbours. The matter which most of al he noted in them, -was; that they lived merrily, and with much lesse care, then any else -in the Cittie beside, and verily they did so in deede. Wherefore, he -demanded of divers persons, who had good understanding of them both, -of what estate and condition they were. And hearing by every one, -that they were but poore men & Painters: he greatly mervailed, how it -could be possible for them, that they should live so jocondly, and in -such poverty. It was related to him further beside, that they were -men of a quicke and ingenious apprehension, whereby hee politikely -imagined, that theyr poore condition could not so well maintaine them; -without some courses else, albeit not publiquely knowne unto men, yet -redounding to their great commoditie and profite. In which regard, he -grew exceeding desirous, by what meanes he might become** acquainted, and -grow into familiarity with them both, or any of them, at the least; -wherein (at the length) he prevailed, and _Bruno_ proved to be the man. - -Now _Bruno_ plainly perceiving (within a short while of this new -begun acquaintance) that the Physitian was a Logger-head, and meerely -no better then a _Gregorian_ Animall: he beganne to have much good -pastime with him, by telling him strange and incredible Tales, such -as none but a Coxcombe would give credit too; yet they delighted -Doctor Dunce extraordinarily, and _Brunoes_ familiarity was so highly -pleasing to him, that he was a daily guest at dinner and supper with -him, and hee was not meanly proud of enjoying his company. One day, -as they sate in familiar conference together, he told _Bruno_ that he -wondred not a little at him and _Buffalmaco_, they being both so poore -people, yet lived far more jovially then Lords, and therefore desired -to understand, by what secret meanes they compassed such mirthfull -maintenance. _Bruno_, hearing the Doctors demaund, & perceiving that it -favoured more of the foole, then any the very least taste of wisedome: -smiled unto himselfe, and determined to returne him such an answere, as -might be fitting for his folly, whereupon, thus he replied. - -Beleeve me Master Doctor, I would not impart to many people, what -private helpes we have for our maintenance: but yet I dare boldly -acquaint you therewith, in regard you are one of our most intimate -friends, and of such secrecie, as (I know) you will not reveale it to -any. True it is, that mine honest neighbour and my selfe, do leade our -lives in such merry manner as you see, and better then all the world -is aware of, for I cannot imagine you to bee so ignorant, but are -certainly perswaded: that if we had no better means, then our poore -manuall trade and profession; we might sit at home with bread and -water, and be nothing so lively spirited as wee are. Yet Sir, I would -not have you to conceive, that wee do eyther rob or steale, or use any -other unlawfull courses: onely we travayle to _Corsica_, from whence we -bring (without the least prejudice to anie other) all things we stand -in need of, or whatsoever wee can desire. Thus do we maintaine our -selves well and honestly, and live in this mirthfull disposition. - -Master Doctor hearing this Discourse, and beleeving it constantly, -without any further instruction or intelligence: became possessed with -verie much admiration, and had the most earnest desire in the world, to -know what this Travailing to _Corsica_ might meane: entreating _Bruno_ -with very great instances, to tell him what it was, and made many -protestations never to disclose it to anie one. How now Master Doctor? -answered _Bruno_, What a strange motion do you make to mee? It is too -great a secret, which you desire to know, yea, a matter of mine owne -ruine, and an utter expulsion out of this Worlde, with condemnation -into the mouth of _Lucifer da San Gallo_, if any man whatsoever should -know it from me, wherefore I pray you to urge it no more. O my deer and -honest neighbour _Bruno_ (quoth the Doctor) assure thy selfe upon my -soul, that whatsoever thou revealest to me, shall be under seale from -all, but onely our selves. Fie, fie Master Doctor, answered _Bruno_, -you are too pressing and importunate. So sitting smiling to himselfe, -shaking his head, and beating his breast, as if hee were in some -straunge distraction of minde, stamping with his feete, and beating his -Fiste oftentimes on the Table, at last he started uppe, and spake in -this manner. - -Ah Master Doctor, the love I beare to your capricious and rarely -circumcised experience, and likewise the confidence I repose in your -scrutinous taciturnitie, are both of such mighty and prevailing power; -as I cannot conceale any thing from you, which you covet to know. And -therefore, if you will sweare unto me by the crosse of _Monteson_, that -never (as you have already faithfully promised) you will disclose a -secret so admirable; I will relate it unto you, and not otherwise. The -Doctor sware, and sware againe, and then _Bruno_ thus began. - -Know then my learned and judicious Doctor, that it is not long time -since, when there lived in this Citie of ours, a man very excellent in -the Art of Nigromancie, who named himselfe _Michale Scoto_, because he -was a Scottishman borne, of many woorthy Gentlemen (very few of them -being now living) hee was much honoured and respected. When he grew -desirous to depart from hence, upon their earnest motion and entreaty; -he left here two of his Schollers behinde him, men of absolute skill -and experience: giving them especial charge and command, to do all -possible services they could devise, for those Gentlemen who had so -highly honoured him. The two famous Schollers, were very helpefull to -those Gentlemen, in divers of their amorous occasions, and verie many -other matters besides. - -Not long after, they finding the Citie, and behaviour of the people -sufficiently pleasing to them; they resolved on their continuance -heere, entering into a league of love and friendshippe with divers, -never regarding, whether they were Gentlemen, or no, or distinguishing -the poore from the rich: but only in being conforme to their -complexions, sociable and fit for friendship. - -They created a kinde Society, consisting of about five and twenty men, -who should meete together twice in a moneth, & in a place reputed -convenient for them: where being so assembled, every man uttered his -minde to those two Schollers, in such cases as they most desired, to -have wherewith they were all satisfied the self-same night. It came so -to passe, that _Buffalmaco_ and I, grew into acquaintance with those -two worthy Schollers, and our private familiarity together proved -so prosperous, that we were admitted into the same Society, and so -have ever since continued. Now Sir, I am to tell you matter deserving -admiration, & which (in very good judgements) would seeme to exceed all -beleefe. - -For, at every time when we were assembled together: you are not able -to imagine, what sumptuous hangings of Tapistrie, did adorne the Hall -where we sate at meate, the Tables covered in such Royall manner, -waited on by numberlesse Noble and goodly attendants, both Women and -Men, serving readily, at each mans command of the company. The Basins, -Ewers, Pots, Flaggons, & all the vessels else which stood before, and -for the service of our diet, being composed onely of Gold and Silver, -and out of no worse did we both eate and drinke: the viands being very -rare and dainty, abounding in plenty and variety, according to the -appetite of everie person, as nothing could be wished for, but it was -instantly obtained. - -In good sadnesse Sir, I am not able to remember and tell you (within -the compasse of a thousand yeares) what, and how manie severall -kindes of Musicall Instruments, were continually played on before us; -what multiplicity of Waxe lights burned in all partes of the roomes; -neither the excessive store of rich Drugs, Marchpanes, Comfites, and -rare Banquetting stuffe, consumed there at one Feasting, wherein there -wanted no bounty of the best and purest wines. Nor do I (Master Doctor) -repute you so weakly witted, as to think, that in the time of our -being thus assembled there, any of us al were cloathed in such simple -and meane Garments, as ordinarily are worne in the streets on mens -bodies, or any so silly as the verie best you have: No Sir, not any one -man among us, but appeared by his apparrell, equall to the greatest -Emperour on the earth, his robe most sumptuously imbroidered with -precious stones, Pearles, and Carbuncles, as all the world affoordeth -not the like. But above all the rest, the delights and pleasures there, -are beyond my capacity to expresse, or (indeede) any comparison: as -namely, store of goodly and beautifull women, brought thither from all -parts of the world; alwayes provided, if men bee desirous of their -company: but for your easier comprehension, I will make some briefe -relation of them to you, according as I heard them there named. - -There is the great Lady of _Barbanicchia_; the Queene of _Baschia_; -the Wife to the great _Soldane_, the Empresse of _Osbeccho_; the -_Ciancianfera_ of _Norniera_; the _Bemistante_ of _Berlinzona_;** and the -_Scalpedra_ of _Narsia_. But why do I breake my braine, in numbering up -so many to you? All the Queenes of the world are there, even so farre -as to the _Schinchimurra_ of _Prester John_, that hath a horne in the -midst of her posteriores, albeit not visible to every eye. - -Now I am further to tell you, that after we have tasted a Cup of -precious Wine, fed on a few delicate Comfits, and danced a dance or two -to the rare Musicke: every one taketh a Lady by the hand, of whom he -pleaseth to make his election, and she conducteth him to her Chamber, -in very grave and gracious manner. Concerning the Chambers there, -each of them resembleth a Paradise to looke on, they are so faire and -goodly; and no lesse odorifferous in smell, then the sweetest perfumes -in your Apothecaries shoppes, or the rare compounds of Spices, when -they are beaten in an open Morter. And as for the Beds, they are -infinitely richer, then the verie costliest belonging to the Duke of -_Venice_: yet (in such) each man is appointed to take his rest, the -Musicke of rare Cymbals lasting all night long, much better to be by -you considered, then in my rude eloquence expressed. - -But of all those rich and sumptuous Beds (if pride of mine owne -opinion do not deceive me) them two provided for _Buffalmaco_ and me, -had hardly any equall: he having the Queene of _France_ as his Lady -and Mistresse, and I, the renowned Queene of _England_, the onely -two choise beauties of the whole World, and wee appeared so pleasing -in their eyes, as they would have refused the greatest Monarkes on -the earth, rather then to bee rejected by us. Now therefore, you may -easily consider with your selfe, what great reason we have to live more -merrily, then any other men can doe: in regard we enjoy the gracious -favour of two such Royall Queenes, receyving also from them (whensoever -wee please to commaund them) a thousand or two thousand Florines at the -least, which are both truly and duly sent us. Enjoying thus the benefit -of this high happinesse, we that are companions of this Society, do -tearme it in our vulgar Language, _The Pyrats voyage to Corsica_. -Because, as Rovers or Pyrats robbe and take away the goodes of such as -they meete withall, even so do we: only there remaineth this difference -betweene us, that they never restore what they have taken: which we do -immediately afterward, whether it be required or no. And thus Master -Doctor, as to my most endeered friend, I have now revealed the meaning -of sayling to _Corsica_, after the manner of our private Pyracie, -and how important the close retention of the voiage is, you are best -able your selfe to judge: In which regarde, remember your Oathes and -faithfull promises, or else I am undone forever. - -Our worthy wise Doctor, whose best skill scarsely extended so farre, as -to cure the itch in Children; gave such sound beleefe to the relation -of _Bruno_, as any man could doe, to the most certaine truth of life or -death: having his desire immeasurably enflamed, to bee made a member of -this straunge Societie, which hee more coveted, then any thing in the -world beside, accounting it a felicity farre beyond all other. - -Whereupon he answered _Bruno_, that it was no great matter of mervaile, -if he lived so merrily as he did, having such a singular supply, to -avoide all necessities whatsoever: and very hardly could he refraine -from immediate request, to be accepted into the company. But yet he -thought fit to deferre it further, untill he had made _Bruno_ more -beholding to him, by friendly entertainments and other courtesies, when -he might (with better hope) be bold to move the motion. - -Well may you conceive, that nothing more hammerd in the Doctors head, -then this rare voyage to _Corsica_, and _Bruno_ was his daily guest -at dinner and supper, with such extraordinary apparances of kindnesse -and courtesie, as if the Physitian could not live, except he had the -company of _Bruno_. Who seeing himselfe to bee so lovingly respected, -and hating ingratitude, for favours so abundantly heaped on him: -hee painted the whole story of Lent about his Hall, and an _Agnus -Dei_ fairely gilt, on the portall of his Chamber, as also a goodly -Urinall on his street doore, to the end, that such as had neede of his -counsell, might know where so judicious a Doctour dwelt. In a Gallery -likewise by his Garden, he painted the furious Battaile betweene the -Rats and Cats, which did (not a little) delight Master Doctor. - -Moreover, at such times as Bruno had not supt with our Physitian, he -would bee sure to tell him on the morrow, that the night passed, he -had bin with the Company which he did wot of. And there (quoth he) the -Queene of _England_ having somewhat offended mee, I commanded, that -the _Gomedra_, belonging to the _Grand Cham_ of _Tartaria_, should -be brought me, and instantly shee was. What may be the meaning of -_Gomedra_ be? saide the Doctor, I understand not those difficult names. -I beleeve you Sir, answered _Bruno_, nor do I need to marvaile thereat: -and yet I have heard _Porcograsso_ speake, and also _Vannacenna_, and -both unexperienced in our Language. You would say (replyed the Doctour) -_Hippocrates_ and _Avicenna_, who were two admirable Physitians. It may -be so (said _Bruno_) & as hardly do I understand your names, as you -mine: but _Gomedra_, in the _Grand Chams_ language, signifies Empresse -in ours. But had you once seene her Sir, she would make you forget -all Physicall observations, your arguments, receits and medicines, -onely to be in her heavenly presence, which words he used (perceiving -his forward longing) to enflame him the more. Not long after, as the -doctor was holding the candle to _Bruno_, at the perfecting the bloody -Battayle of the Cattes and Rattes, because he could never bee wearied -in his Companie, and therefore was the more willing, to undergoe the -office of the Candle-holder: he resolved to acquaint him with his -minde, and being all alone by themselves, thus he began. - -_Bruno_, as heaven knoweth, there is not this day any creature living, -for whom I would gladly do more, then for thee, and the very least word -of thy mouth, hath power to commaund mee to goe bare-footed, even from -hence so farre as to _Peretola_, and account my labour well employed -for thy sake: wherefore, never wonder at my continuall kindnesse -towards thee, using thee as my Domesticke companion, and embracing -thee as my bosome friend, and therefore I am the bolder in mooving one -request unto thee. As thou well knowest, it is no long while since, -when thou diddest acquaint me with the behaviour of the _Corsicane_ -Roving Company, to be one in so rare and excellent a Society, such hath -bin my earnest longing ever since, as day nor night have I enjoyed anie -rest, but should thinke my felicity beyond all compare, if I could be -entertained in fellowship among you. - -Nor is this desire of mine but upon great occasion, as thou thy selfe -shalt perceive, if I prove accepted into your Societie, and let me then -be made a mocking stocke for ever, if I cause not to come thither, one -of the most delicate young women, that ever anie eye beheld, and which -I my selfe saw (not above a yeare since) at _Cacavinciglia_, on whom I -bestowed my intirest affection, and (by the best Urinall that ever I -gazed on) would have given her tenne faire _Bologninaes_, to yeeld the -matter I moved to her, which yet I could not (by any meanes) compasse. -Therefore, with all the flowing faculties of my soule I entreate -thee, and all the very uttermost of my all indeede; to instruct me -in those wayes and meanes, whereby I may hope to be a member of you. -Which if thou dooest accomplish for me, and I may finde it effectually -performed: I shall not onely be thy true and loyall friend for ever, -but will honour thee beside, beyond all men living. - -I know thee to bee a man of judgement, deepely informed in all -well-grounded experience: thou seest what a propper, portly, and comely -man I am, how fitly my legges are answerable to my body, my lookes -amiable, lovely, and of Rosie colour; beside I am a Doctor of Physicke, -of which profession (being only most expedient) I thinke you have not -one in your Society. I have many commendable qualities in me, as, -playing on divers instruments, exquisite in singing, and composing rare -ditties, whereof I will instantly sing thee one. And so he began to -sing. - -_Bruno_ was swolne so bigge with desire of laughter, that hee had -scarsely any power to refraine from it: neverthelesse, he made the -best meanes he could devise: and the Song being ended, the Physition -saide. How now _Bruno_? What is thine Opinion of my singing? Beleeve -me Sir, replyed _Bruno_, the Vialles of _Sagginali_, will loose their -very best tunes, in contending against you, so mirilifficially are the -sweet accents of your voice heard. I tell thee truly _Bruno_ (answered -Master Doctor) thou couldst not by any possibility have beleeved it, if -thou hadst not heard it. In good sadness Sir (said _Bruno_) you speake -most truly. I could (quoth the Doctor) sing thee infinite more beside, -but at this time I must forbeare them. Let mee then further informe -thee _Bruno_, that beside the compleat perfections thou seest in me, my -father was a Gentleman, althogh he dwelt in a poore Country village, -and by my mothers side, I am derived from them of _Vallecchio_. -Moreover, as I have formerly shewn thee, I have a goodly Library of -Bookes, yea, and so faire and costly garments, as few Physitians in -_Florence_ have the like. I protest to thee upon my faith, I have one -gowne, which cost me (in readie money) almost an hundred poundes in -_Bagattinoes_, and it is not yet above ten yeares old. Wherefore let -me prevaile with thee, good _Bruno_, to worke so with the rest of thy -friends, that I may bee one of your singular Society; and, by the -honest trust thou reposest in mee, bee boldly sick whensoever thou -wilt, my paines and Physicke shall be freely thine, without the payment -of one single peny. _Bruno_ hearing his importunate words, and knowing -him (as all men else did beside) to be a man of more words then wit, -saide. Master Doctor, snuffe the candle I pray you, and lend me a -little more light with it hitherward, until I have finished the tailes -of these Rats, and then I will answer you. - -When the Rats tailes were fully finished, _Bruno_ declaring by outward -behaviour, that he greatly distasted the matter mooved, thus answered. -Worthy Master Doctor, the courtesies you have already extended towards -me, and the bountifull favours promised beside, I know to be exceeding -great, and farre beyond the compasse of any merit in me. But concerning -your request, albeit in respect of your admired braine and Wisedome, it -is of little or no moment at all; yet it appeareth over-mighty to mee, -and there is not any man now living in the world, that hath the like -Authoritie over me, and can more commaund me, then you (with one poore -syllable) easily may doe: as well in regarde of my Love and Dutie, as -also your singular and sententious speeches, able not onelie to make me -breake a sound and setled resolution, but (almost) to move Mountaines -out of their places, and the more I am in your Learned company, so much -the faster am I lincked unto you, in immooveable affection, so farre -am I in love with your admirable qualities. And had I no other reason, -to affect you in such endeared manner, as I doe; yet because you are -enamoured of so rare a beauty, as you have already related to me, it -onely were a motive sufficient to compell me. But indeed I must needs -tel you, that I have not so much power in this case, as you (perhaps) -do imagine, which barreth me from such forward readines, as otherwise -needed not to be urged. Neverthelesse, having so solemnly ingaged your -faith to me, and no way misdoubting your faithfull secrecy, I shall -instruct you in some meanes to be observed; and it appeareth plainly -to me, that being furnished with such plenty of Bookes, as you are, -and other rich endowments, as you have before rehersed, you cannot but -attaine to the full period of your longing desire. - -Speake boldly thy minde _Bruno_, answered the Doctour: for, I perceive -thou hast no perfect knowledge of me as yet, neither what an especiall -gift I have of secrecy. _Messer Gasparino da Salicete_, when he was -Judge and Potestat over the people of _Forlini_, made choise of mee -(among infinite of his dearest friends) to acquaint with a secret of no -meane moment. And such a faithfull Secretary he found me, as I was the -onely man, that knew his mariage with _Bergamino_; why then should any -distrust be made of me? If it be so as you say Sir (answered _Bruno_) -your credit is the sounder, and I dare the better adventure on your -fidelity: the meanes then which you are to worke by, I shall now direct -you in. - -We have alwayes in this noble Society of ours, a Captaine, and two -Counsellors, which are changed at every six months end. And now at -Christmas next (so neere drawing on) _Buffalmaco_ shall be elected -Captaine, and my selfe one of the Counsellers, for so it is already -agreed on, and orderly set downe. Now, he that is Captain, may doe much -more then any other can, and appoint matters as himselfe pleaseth. -Wherefore I thinke it very expedient, that so soone as possibly you -may, you procure acquaintance with _Buffalmaco_, entreating him with -all respective courtesie. Hee is a man, who when he perceyveth you -to be so wonderfully Wise and discreete, he will be immediatly in -love with you: so, when you have your best senses about you, and your -richest wearing Garments on (alwayes remembred, that your acquaintance -first be fully confirmed) then never feare to urge your request, for he -can have no power at all to denie you; because I have already spoken -of you to him, and find him to stand affected unto you verie intirely: -thus when you have begunne the businesse, leave me to deale with him in -the rest. - -Now trust me kinde friend _Bruno_, replyed the Physitian, I like your -advice exceeding well. For, if hee be a man, that taketh delight to -converse with men of skill and judgement, and you have made the way -for his knowing me: he will then thirst, and long to follow after mee, -to understand the incredible eloquence flowing from me, and the rare -composition of my Musicall Ditties, out of which he may learne no meane -wisedome. When the matter was thus agreed on betweene them, _Bruno_ -departed thence, & acquainted _Buffalmaco_ with everie circumstance: -which made him thinke everie day a yeare, untill he might joyne in the -fooling of Mayster Doctour, according to his owne fancie. Who beeing -also as desirous on the other side, to make one in the _Corsicane_ -Voyage; could take no manner of rest either by day or night, till he -was linked in friendship with _Buffalmaco_, which very quickely after -hee compassed. - -For now there wanted no costly dinners and suppers, with al delicates -could be devised, for the entertainement of _Buffalmaco_ and _Bruno_; -who, like Guests very easie to be invited, where rich wines and good -cheare are never wanting, needed little sending for, because his -house was as familiar to them, as their owne. In the end, when the -Physitian espyed an opportunitie apt for the purpose, he made the same -request to _Buffalmaco_, as formerly hee had done to _Bruno_. Whereat -_Buffalmaco_, sodainly starting, and looking frowningly on _Bruno_, -as if he were extraordinarily incensed against him: clapping his -hand furiously on the Table, he sayde. I sweare by the great God of -_Pasignano_, that I can hardly refrayne from giving thee such a blow on -the face, as should make thy Nose to fall at thy heeles: vile Traitor -as thou art: for none beside thy selfe, could discover so rare and -excellent a secret unto this famous Physitian. The Doctour, with verie -plausible and pleasing tearmes, excused the matter verie artificially; -protesting, that another had revealed it unto him: and after many wise -circumstantiall Allegations, at length hee prevailed so farre, that -_Buffalmaco_ was pacified; who afterwardes turning in kinde manner, -thus hee beganne. - -Master Doctour, you have lived both at _Bologna_, and heere in these -partes with us, having (no doubt) sufficiently understoode, what it is -to carry a close mouth, I meane the true Charracter of taciturnitie. -Questionlesse, you never learned the A. B. C. as now foolish Ideots -do, blabbing their lessons all about the towne, which is much better -apprehended by rumination; and surely (if I be not much deceyved) your -Nativity happened on a Sonday morning, Sol being at that time, Lord of -the ascendent, joyned with _Mercurie_ in a fierie Triplicitie. By such -conference as I have had with _Bruno_, I conceyved (as he himselfe also -did) that you were verie singular in Physicke onely: but it seemeth, -your Studies reached a higher straine, for you have learned, and know -verie skilfullie, how to steale mens hearts from them, yea, to bereave -them of their verie soules, which I perceyve that you can farre better -doe, then any man else living to my knowledge, only by your wise, -witty, judicious, and more then meere _Mercurian_ eloquence, such as I -never heard before. - -The Physitian interrupting him bashfully, turned himselfe unto _Bruno_, -saying. Did not I tell thee this before? Observe what a notable thing -it is, to speake well, and to frequent the company of the Wise. A -thousand other, meerely blockes and dullardes by Nature, could never -so soone comprehend all the particularities of my knowledge, as this -honest and apprehensive man hath done. Thou didst not search into it -halfe so soone, nor (indeed) did I expresse a quarter of my ingenuity -to thee, as (since his comming) hath prodigally flowne from me. - -Well do I remember thy words, that _Buffalmaco_ delighted to be among -men of Wisedome: and have I not now fitted him unto his owne desire? -How thinkest thou _Bruno_? The best (quoth _Bruno_) that any man living -in the World could do. Ah worthy _Buffalmaco_, answered the Physitian: -What wouldst thou then have sayde, if thou hadst seene me at _Bologna_, -where there was neyther great nor small, Doctor nor Scholler, but -thought themselves happy by being in my company? If I ought any debts, -I discharged them with my very wittie words; and whensoever I spake, -I could set them al on a hearty laughter, so much pleasure they tooke -in hearing mee. And when I departed thence, no men in the world could -bee more sorrowfull then they, as desiring nothing more then my -remayning among them, which they expressed so apparantly, that they -made humble suite and intercession to me, to bee cheefe Reader of the -Physicke-Lecture, to all the Schollers studying our profession. But I -could not be so perswaded, because my minde was wholly addicted hither, -to enjoy those Goods, Landes, and Inheritances, belonging lineally to -them of our house, and accordingly I did performe it. - -How now _Buffalmaco_ (quoth _Bruno_) what is thine opinion now? Thou -wouldst not beleeve me when I told thee, that there is not a Doctor in -all these parts, more skilfull in distinguishing the Urine of an Asse, -from any other, then this most expert and singular man: and I dare -boldly maintaine it, that his fellow is not to bee found, from hence -to the very gates of _Paris_. Go then, and doe the uttermost endeavour -that thou canst, to grant the request which he hath made. - -Beleeve me _Buffalmaco_, saide the Doctor, _Bruno_ hath spoken nothing -but truth, for I am scarsely knowne heere in this City, where (for -the most part) they are all grosse-witted people, rather then any jot -judicious; but I would thou hadst seene me among the Doctors, in manner -as I was wont to be. Introth Sire, replyed _Buffalmaco_, you are my -much more Learned then ever I imagined, in which respect, speaking unto -you as it becommeth me, to a man so excellent in wit and understanding: -I dare assure you that (without any faile) I will procure you to be one -of our Company. - -After this promise thus made, the good cheare, favors and kindnesses -done by the Doctor to them, was beyond the compasse of all relation: -whereof they made no more then a meere mockery, flouting him to his -face, and yet his Wisedome could not discerne it. Moreover, they -promised, that they would give him to Wife, the faire Countesse _di -Civillari_, who was the onely goodliest creature to be found in the -whole _Culattario_ of humane generation. The Doctor demanded, what -Countesse that was? Oh Sir, answered _Buffalmaco_, she is a great -Lady, one worthy to have issue by; and few houses are there in the -world, where she hath not some jurisdiction and command: so that not -meane people onely, but even the greatest Lords, at the sound of her -Trumpets, do very gladlie pay her tribute. And I dare boldly affirme, -that whensoever shee walketh to any place, shee yeeldeth a hot and -sensible favour, albeit she keepeth most of all close. Yet once every -night, shee duely observeth it (as a Custome) to passe from her owne -house, to bathe her feete in the River of _Arno_, and take a little -of the sweeter Ayre: albeit her continuall residencie, is within the -Kingdome of _Laterino_. - -She seldome walketh abroad, but goeth with her attending Officers about -her, who (for more demonstration of her greatnesse) do carry the Rod -and plummet of Lead. Store of her Lords and Barons are every where to -be seene; as the _Tamagaino della porta, Don Meta di Sirropa; Manico di -Scopa; Signior Squacchera,_ and others beside, who are (as I suppose) -oftentimes your daily visitants, when of necessity they must be -remembred. All our care and courtesie shall extend so farre (if we doe -not faile in our enterprize) to leave you in the armes of so Majestick -a Ladie, quite forgetting hir of _Cacavinciglia_. - -The Physitian, who was borne and brought up at _Bologna_, and therefore -understoode not these _Florentine_ tearmes: became fully contented -to enjoy the Ladie; and, within some few dayes following, the -Painters brought him tydings, that they had prepared the way for his -entertainment into the Societie of Rovers. The day being come, when the -supposed assembly was to be made the night following: the Physitian -invited them both to dinner; when he demanding, what provision he shold -make for his entrance into their company, _Buffalmaco_ returned him -this answer, whereto he gave very heedfull attention. - -Master Doctor, you must be first of all, strongly armed with resolution -and confidence: for if you be not, you may not only receyve hindrance, -but also do us great harme beside: and now you shall heare, in what -manner, and how you are to be bold and constant. You must procure the -meanes, this instant night, when all the people are in their soundest -sleepe, to stand upon one of those high exalted Tombs or Monuments, -which are in the Churchyard of _Santa Maria Novella_, with the very -fairest gowne you have about you, because you may appeare in the more -honorable condition, before the assembly seated together, and likewise -to make good our speeches already delivered of you, concerning your -qualitie & profession: that the Countesse, perceyving you to bee a -woorthie Gentlemen, may have you first honoured with the Bathe, and -afterward Knighted at her owne cost and charge. But you must continue -still upon the Tombe (dreadlesse of nightly apparitions & visions) -untill such time as we send for you. - -And for your better information in every particulare; a Beast, blacke -and horned, but of no great stature, will come to fetch you: perhaps he -will use some gastly noises, straunge leapes, and loftie trickes, onely -to terrifie and affright you: but when he perceiveth that he cannot -daunt you, hee will gently come neere you, which when he hath done, -you may descend from off the Tombe; and, without naming or thinking -on God, or any of his Saintes, mount boldly on his backe, for he will -stand ready to receive you. Being so seated, crosse your armes over -your brest, without presuming to touch or handle the Beast, for he will -carry you thence softly, and so bring you along to the company. But if -in all this time of your travaile, you call on heaven, any Saint, or -bee possessed with the least thought of feare: I must plainely tell -you, that either hee will cast you dangerously, or throw you into some -noysom place. And therefore, if you know your selfe, not to be of a -constant courage, and sprightly bold, to undertake such an adventure as -this: never presume any further, because you may doe us a great deale -of injurie, without any gaine or benefite to your selfe, but rather -such wrong, as we would be very sorry should happen unto so deere a -Friend. - -Alas honest _Buffalmaco_, answered the Physitian, thou art not -halfe acquainted with me as yet: because I walke with gloves upon -my hands, and in a long Gowne, thou perhappes doest imagine mee a -faint-hearted fellow. If thou didst know, what I have heeretofore done -at _Bologna_ in the night time, when I and my Consorts went to visite -pretty wenches, thou wouldst wonder at my couragious attempts. As I -am a Gentleman, one night, we met with a young _Bona Roba_, a paltry -greene-sicknesse baggage, scarsely above a Cubite in height, & because -she refused to go with us willingly, I gave her a kicke on the bum, -and spurnde her more then a Crosse-bowe shoote in distance from me, -and made her walke with us whether she would, or no. Another time I -remember, when having no other company but my boy, I went thorow the -Churchyard of the Fryars Minors, after the sounding of _Ave Maria_: a -woman hadde beene buried there the very same day, and yet I was not a -jotte affraid. - -Wherefore, never be distrustfull of mee, but resolvedly builde upon my -courage. And in regard of my more honourable entertainment, I will then -weare my Scarlet Gowne and Hood, wherein I receyved my graduation; and -then do both of you observe, what a rejoycing will be among the whole -company, at the entertaining of such as a man as I am, enough to create -me Captaine immediatly. You shall perceive also how the case will go, -after I have beene there but a while, in regard that the Countesse -(having as yet never seene me) is so deepely enamored of mee: she -cannot choose but bestow the Bathe and Knight-hood on me, which shee -shall have the more honour of, in regard I am well able to maintaine -it, therefore referre all the rest to mee, and never misdoubt your -injurie or mine. - -Spoken like a Gallant, replyed _Buffalmaco_, and I feare not now, but -we shall winne credite by your company. But be carefull I pray you, -that you make not a mockery of us, and come not at all, or fayle to be -there, when the Beast shall be sent for you; I speake it the rather, -because it is cold weather, and you Gentlemen Physitians can hardly -endure it. You are carefull of mee (quoth the Doctor) and I thanke -you for it, but I applaud my faire Starres, I am none of your nice or -easie-frozen fellowes, because cold weather is very familiar to me. -I dare assure you, when I arise in the night time for that naturall -office whereto all men are subject, I weare no warmer defence, then my -thin wastcoat over my shirt, and finde it sufficient for the coldest -weather at any time. - -When _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_ had taken their leave, the Physitian, so -soone as night drew neere, used many apt excuses to his wife, stealing -forth his Scarlet Gowne and Hood unseene of any, wherewith being -clothed: at the time appointed, he got upon one of the Marble Tombes, -staying there (quaking with cold) awaiting when the Beast should come. -_Buffalmaco_, being a lusty tall man of person, had got an ugly masking -suite, such as are made use of in Tragedies and Playes, the out-side -being of black shagged haire, wherewith being cloathed, he seemed like -a strange deformed Beare, and a Divels vizard over his face, with two -gastly horrible hornes, and thus disguised, _Bruno_ following him, they -went to behold the issue of the businesse, so farre as the new Market -place, closely adjoining to _Santa Maria Novella_. - -Having espyed Master Doctor uppon the Tombe, _Buffalmaco_ in his -misshapen habite, began to bound, leape, and carriere, snuffling and -blowing in mad and raging manner: which when the Physitian saw, his -haire stood on end, he quaked and trembled, as being more fearfull then -a Woman, wishing himselfe at home againe in his house, rather then to -behold a sight so dreadfull. But because he was come forth, and had -such an earnest desire, to see the wonders related to him; he made -himselfe so coragious as possibly he could, and bare all out in formall -manner. After that _Buffalmaco_ had (an indifferent while) plaide his -horse-trickes, ramping and stamping somewhat strangely: seeming as -become of much milder temper, he went neere to the Tomb whereon the -Physitian stood, and there appeared to stay contentedly. - -Master Doctor, trembling and quaking still extreamely, was so farre -dismayed, as he knew not what was best to be done, either to mount -on the beasts backe, or not to mount at all. In the end, thinking no -harme could happen to him, if he were once mounted, with the second -feare, hee expelled the former, and descending downe softly from the -Tombs, mounted on the beast, saying out alowde: God, Saint Dominicke, -and my good Angell helpe to defend mee. Seating himselfe so well as he -could, but trembling still exceedingly; he crossed his armes over his -stomacke, according to the Lesson given him. - -Then did _Buffalmaco_ shape his course in milde manner, toward _Santa -Maria della Scala_, and groping to finde his way in the darke, went -on so farre as the Sisters of _Ripole_, commonly called the _Virgin -Sanctuary_. Not farre off from thence, were divers trenches & ditches, -wherein such men as are imployed in necessary night-services, used -to empty the Countesse _di Civillari_, and afterward imployed it for -manuring Husbandmens grounds. _Buffalmaco_, being come neere one of -them, he stayed to breath himselfe awhile, and then catching fast hold -on one of the Doctours feete, raysed him somewhat higher on his back, -for the easier discharging of his burthen, and so pitched him (with his -head forwardes) into the Lay-stall. - -Then began he to make a dreadfull kinde of noise, stamping and trampling -with his feete, passing backe againe to _Santa Maria della Scala_, -and to _Prato d'Ognissanti_, where hee met with _Bruno_, who was -constrained to forsake him, because he could not refraine from lowde -Laughter, then both together went backe once more, to see how the -Physitian would behave himselfe, being so sweetely embrued. - -Master Doctor, seeing himselfe to bee in such an abhominable stinking -place, laboured with all his utmost endeavour, to get himself released -thence: but the more he contended and strove for getting forth, he -plunged himselfe the further in, being most pitifully myred from head -to foot, sighing and sorrowing extraordinarily, because much of the -foule water entred in at his mouth. In the end, being forced to leave -his hood behinde him, scrambling both with his hands and feet, he got -landing out of his stinking Labyrinth, & having no other means, home -he returned to his own house, where knocking at the doore, he was at -length admitted entrance. The doore being scarse made fast againe after -his letting in, _Buffalmaco_ and _Bruno_ were there arrived, listning -how M. Doctor should bee welcomd home by his angry wife: who scolding -and railing at him with wonderfull impatience, gave him most hard and -bitter speeches, terming him the vilest man living. - -Where have you bin Sir? quoth she. Are you becom** a night-walker after -other Women? And could no worse garments serve your turne, but your -Doctors gown of Scarlet? Am I to suffer this behaviour? Or am not I -sufficient to content you, but you must be longing after change? I -would thou hadst bin stifled in that foule filth, where thy fouler life -did justly cast thee. Behold goodly Master Doctor of the Leystall, -who being maried to an honest woman must yet go abroad in the night -time, insatiatly lusting after whores and harlots. With these and the -like intemperate speeches, she ceased not to afflict and torment him, -till the night was almost spent, and the Doctor brought into a sweeter -savour. - -The next morning, _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_, having colourd their bodyes -with a strange kinde of painting, resembling blisters, swellings, and -bruises, as if they had bin extreamly beaten; came to the Physitians -house, finding him to be newly up, al the house yet smelling of his -foule savour (although it had bin very well perfumed) and being -admitted to him in the Garden, hee welcommed them with the mornings -salutations. But _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_ (being otherwise provided for -him) delivering stearne and angry lookes, stamping and chafing, _Bruno_ -thus replyed. - -Never speake so faire and flattering to us, for we are moved beyond all -compasse of patience. All misfortunes in the worlde fall upon you, and -an evill death may you dye, like the most false and perfidious Traitor -living on the earth. We must beate our braines, and move all our most -endeared friends, onely for your honor and advancement: while wee were -well neere starved to death in the cold like Dogs, and, by your breach -of promise, have bin this night so extreamly beaten, as if (like Asses) -we should have beene driven to _Rome_. - -But that which is most greevous of all, is danger of excluding out of -the Society, where wee tooke good order for your admittance, and for -your most honourable entertainment. If you will not credit us, behold -our bodies, and let your owne eyes be witnesses, in what cruell manner -we have bin beaten. So taking him aside under the Gallery, where they -might not be discovered by over-much light, they opened their bosomes, -shewed him their painted bodies, and sodainly closed them up againe. - -The Physitian laboured to excuse himselfe, declaring his misfortunes at -large, and into what a filthy place he was throwne. It maketh no matter -(answered _Buffalmaco_) I would you had bin throwen from off the Bridge -into _Arno_, where you might have beene recommended to the Divell, and -all his Saints. Did not I tell you so much before. In good sadnesse -(quoth the Doctor) I neyther commended my selfe to God, nor any of -his Saints. How? sayde _Buffalmaco_, I am sure you will maintaine an -untrueth, you used a kinde of recommendation: for our messenger told -us, that you talked of God, S. _Dominicke_, and your good Angell, whom -you desired to assist you, being so affrighted with feare, that you -trembled like a leafe upon a tree, not knowing indeede where you were. -Thus have you unfaithfully dealt with us, as never any man shall doe -the like againe, in seeking honour, and losing it through your own -negligence. - -Master Doctor humbly entreated pardon, and that they would not revile -him any more, labouring to appease them by the best words he could use, -as fearing least they should publish this great disgrace of him. And -whereas (before) he gave them gracious welcomes; now he redoubled them -with farre greater courtesies, feasting them daily at his own table, -and evermore delighting in their company. Thus (as you have heard) two -poore Painters of _Florence_, taught Master Doctor better Wit, then all -the Learned at _Bologna_. - - - - -_A Cicilian Courtezane, named Madame_ Biancafiore, _by her craftie wit -and policie, deceived a young Merchant, called_ Salabetto, _of all the -money he had taken for his Wares at_ Palermo. _Afterward, he making -shew of comming hither againe, with farre richer Merchandises then hee -brought before: made the meanes to borrow a great summe of Money of -her, leaving her so base a pawne, as well requited her for her former -cozenage._ - -The Tenth Novell. - -_Whereby appeareth, that such as meet with cunning Harlots, and suffer -themselves to be deceived by them: must sharpen their Wits, to make -them requitall in the selfesame kinde._ - - -Needlesse it were to question, whether the Novell related by the -Queene, in divers passages thereof, mooved the Ladies to hearty -laughter, and likewise to compassionate sighes and teares; as pittying -Madame _Helena_ in her hard misfortune, and yet applauding the Scholler -for his just revenge. But the discourse being ended, _Dioneus_, who -knew it was his Office to be the last speaker every day, after silence -was commanded, he began in this manner. - -Worthy Ladies, it is a matter very manifest, that deceits do appeare -so much the more pleasing, when (by the selfe-same meanes) the subtle -deceyver is artificially deceived. In which respect, though you all -have reported very singular deceits: yet I meane to tel you one, that -may prove as pleasing to you, as any of your owne. And so much the -rather, because the woman deceived, was a great and cunning Mistris -in beguiling others; equalling (if not excelling) any of your former -beguilers. - -It hath bene observed heretofore, and (happily) at this very day it is -as frequent, that in all Cities and Townes upon the Sea-coasts, having -Ports for the benefit and venting Merchandises; Merchants use to bring -their wealthy laden Vessels thither. And when they unlade any Ship of -great fraught, there are prepared Store-houses, which in many places -are called _Magazines_ or _Doganaes_, at the charge of the Communalty, -or Lord of the Towne or City, for the use whereof, they receive yearly -gain and benefit. Into those warehouses, they deliver (under writing, -and to the owners of them in especiall charge) all their goods and -merchandises, of what price or valew soever they are. - -Such as be the Owners of these Magazines, when the Wares are thus -stored uppe in them, doe safely locke them up there with their keyes, -having first registred downe truly all the goods, in the Register -belonging to the Custome-house, that the Merchant may have a just -account rendred him, and the rights payed to the Custome-house, -according to the Register, and as they are either in part, or in all -made sale of. - -Brokers are continually there attending, being informed in the quality -of the Merchandises stored, and likewise to what Merchants they -appertaine: by meanes of these men, and according as the goods come -to their hands, they devise to have them exchaunged, trucked, vented, -and such other kinds of dispatches, answerable to the mens minds, and -worth of the Commodities. As in many other Kingdomes and Countries, so -was this custome observed at _Palermo_ in _Sicily_, where likewise then -were, and (no doubt) now a-dayes are, store of Women, faire and comely -of person, but yet vowed enemies to honesty. - -Neverthelesse, by such as know them not, they are held and reputed to -be blamelesse Women, and by yeilding their bodyes unto generall use, -are the occasion of infinite misfortunes to men. For so soone as they -espy a Merchant-stranger there arrived, they win information from the -Booke belonging to the Magazin, what wares are therein stored, of what -valew they bee, and who is the Owner of them. Afterwards, by amorous -actions, and affable speeches, they allure yong Merchants to take -knowledge of them, to bee familiar in their company, till from some -they get most part of their wealth, from others all. Nay, divers have -gone so farre, as to make Port-sale of Ship, Goods, and Person, so -cunningly they have bene shaven by these Barbers, and yet without any -Razor. - -It came to passe, and no long time since, that a young _Florentine_ of -ours, named _Niccolo da Cignano_, but more usually called _Salabetto_, -imployed as Factor for his Maister, arrived at _Palermo_; his Ship -stored with many Woollen Cloathes, a remainder of such as had bin sold -at the Mart of _Salerno_, amounting in valew to above five hundred -Florines of Gold. When he had given in his packet to the Custome-house, -and made them up safe in his Ware-house; without making shew of -desiring any speedy dispatch, he delighted to view all parts of the -City, as mens minds are continuallie addicted to Novelties. He being -a very faire and affable yong man, easie to kindle affection in a -very modest eie: it fortuned, that a Courtezane, one of our before -remembred shavers, who termed hir selfe Madame _Biancafiore_, having -heard somewhat concerning his affairs, beganne to dart amorous glances -at him. Which the indiscreete youth perceyving, and thinking her to be -some great Lady: began also to grow halfe perswaded, that his comely -person was pleasing to her, and therefore he would carrie this good -fortune of his somewhat cautelously. - -Without imparting his mind unto any one, he would daily passe too and -fro before her doore; which she observing, and having indifferently -wounded him with her wanton piercing lookes: she began to use the first -tricke of her Trade, by pretending her enflamed affection towards him, -which made her pine and consume away in care, except he might be moved -to pitty her. Whereupon, she sent one of her _Pandoraes_ unto him, -perfectly instructed in the Art of a _Maquerella_, who (after many -cunning counterfetted sighes, and teares, which she had alwayes ready -at command) told him; that his comely person and compleate perfections, -had so wounded the very soule of her Mistresse, as she could enjoy -no rest in any place, either by day or night. In regard whereof, she -desired (above all things else) to meete with him privately in a Bathe: -with which Wordes, she straightway tooke a Ring forth of her pursse, -and in most humble manner, delivered it unto him, as a token from her -Mistresse. - -_Salabetto_ having heard this Message, was the onely joyfull man that -could be: and having receyved the Ring, looking on it advisedly; first -kissed it, and then put it upon his finger. Then in answer to the -Messenger, he sayd: That if her Mistresse _Biancafiore_ affected him, -she sustained no losse thereby, in regard he loved her as fervently, -and was ready to be commanded by her, at any time whensoever she -pleased. - -She having delivered this message to her Mistresse, was presently -returned backe againe to him, to let him understand, in which of the -Bathes she meant to meet him, on the next morrow in the evening. This -being counsell for himselfe onely to keepe, he imparted it not to any -friend whatsoever; but when the houre for their meeting was come, he -went unto the place where he was appointed, a Bathe (belike) best -agreeing with such businesse. - -Not long had he taried there, but two Women slaves came laden to him, -the one bearing a Mattresse of fine Fustian on hir head, and the other -a great Basket filled with many things. Having spred the Mattresse in -a faire Chamber on a Couch-bed, they covered it with delicate white -Linnen sheets, all about embroidred with faire Fringes of gold, then -laid they on costly quilts of rich Silkes, artificially wrought with -gold and silver knots, having pearles and precious stones interwoven -among them, and two such rich pillowes, as sildome before had the -like bin seene. _Salabetto_ putting off his garments, entred the Bath -prepared for him, where the two Slaves washed his body very neatly. -Soone after came _Biancafiore_ hirselfe, attended on by two other -women slaves, and seeing _Salabetto_ in the Bathe; making him a lowly -reverence, breathing forth infinite dissembled sighes, and teares -trickling downe her cheekes, kissing and embracing him, thus she spake. - -I know not what man else in the worlde, beside thy selfe, could have -the power to bring me hither: the fire flew from thy faire eies (O thou -incompareable lovely _Tuscane_) that melted my soule, and makes me -onely live at thy command. Then hurling off her light wearing garment -(because she came prepared for the purpose) shee stept into the bathe -to him, and, not permitting the Slaves a-while to come neere, none -but her selfe must now lave his body, with Muske compounded Sope and -Gilly-floures. Afterward, the slaves washed both him and her, bringing -two goodly sheetes, softe and white, yeelding such a delicate smell of -Roses, even as if they had bene made of Rose-leaves. In the one, they -folded _Salabetto_, and her in the other, and so conveyed them on their -shoulders unto the prepared Bed-Couch, where because they should not -sweate any longer, they tooke the sheets from about them, and laid them -gently in the bed. - -Then they opened the Basket, wherein were divers goodly Silver bottles, -some filled with Rosewaters, others with flowers of Orenges, and Waters -distilled of Gelsomine, Muske, and Amber-Greece, wherewith (againe) the -slaves bathed their bodyes in the bed, & afterward presented them with -variety of Comfites, as also very precious Wines, serving them in stead -of a little Collation. _Salabetto_ supposed himself to be in Paradise: -for this appeared to be no earthly joy, bestowing a thousand gladsome -gazes on her, who (questionlesse) was a most beautifull creature, and -the tarrying of the Slaves, seemed millions of yeares to him, that -hee might more freely embrace his _Biancafiore_. Leaving a Waxe Taper -lighted in the Chamber, the slaves departed, and then shee sweetly -embracing _Salabetto_, bestowed those further favours on him, which hee -came for, and she was not squeamish in the affoording; whereof he was -exceedingly joyfull, because he imagined, that they proceeded from the -integrity of her affection towards him. - -When she thought it convenient time to depart thence, the slaves -returned; they cloathed themselves, and had a Banquet standing ready -prepared for them; where-with they cheared their wearyed spirits, after -they had first washed in odorifferous waters. At parting: _Salabetto_ -(quoth she) whensoever thy leysures shall best serve thee, I will -repute it as my cheefest happinesse, that thou wilt accept a Supper -and Lodging in my house, which let it be this instant night, if thou -canst. He being absolutely caught, both by hir beauty and flattering -behaviour: beleeved faithfully, that he was as intirely beloved of her, -as the heart is of the body: whereuppon hee thus answered. Madame, -whatsoever pleaseth you, must needes be much more acceptable unto -mee: and therefore, not onely may command my service this night, but -likewise the whole employment of my life, to be onely yours in my very -best studies and endeavours. - -No sooner did she heare this answer, but she returned home to her -owne house, which she decked in most sumptuous manner, and also made -ready a costly Supper, expecting the arrivall of _Salabetto_: who -when the darke night was indifferently well entred, went thither, and -was welcommed with wonderfull kindnesse, wanting no costly Wines and -Delicates all the Supper while. Being afterward conducted into a goodly -Chamber, he smelt there admirable sweete senting savours, such as might -well beseeme a Princes Pallace. He beheld a most costly Bed, and very -rich furniture round about the roome: which when he had duly considered -to himself, he was constantly perswaded, that she was a Lady of infinit -wealth. And although he had heard divers flying reports concerning her -life, yet hee would not credite any thing amisse of her, for albeit -she might (perhappes) beguile some other; yet shee affected him (he -thought) in better manner, and no such misfortune could happen to him. - -Having spent all the night with her in wanton dalliances, & being risen -in the morning; to enflame his affection more and more towards her, -and to prevent any ill opinion he might conceyve of her, she bestowed -a rich and costly Girdle on him, as also a pursse most curiously -wrought, saying to him. My sweet _Salabetto_, with these testimonies of -my true affection to thee, I give thee faithfully to understand, that -as my person is onely subjected thine; so this house and all the riches -in it, remaineth absolutely at thy disposition, or whatsoever hereafter -shall happen within the compasse of my power. - -He being not a little proud of this her bountifull offer (having never -bestowed any gift on her, because by no meanes shee would admit it) -after many sweet kisses and embraces; departed thence, to the place -where the Merchants usually frequented: resorting to her (from time to -time) as occasion served, and paying not one single peny for all his -wanton pleasure, by which cunning baytes (at length) she caught him. - -It came to passe, that having made sale of all his Clothes, whereby -hee had great gaines, and the moneyes justly payed him at the times -appointed: _Biancafiore_ got intelligence thereof; yet not by him, but -from one of the Brokers. _Salabetto_ comming one night to sup with -her, she embraced and kissed him as she was wont to doe, and seemed -so wonderfully addicted in love to him, even as if shee would have -dyed with delight in his armes. Instantly, shee would needs bestow two -goodly gilt standing Cuppes on him, which _Salabetto_ by no meanes -would receive, because she had formerly bin very bountifull to him, -to above the value of an hundred Crowns, and yet she would not take -of him so much as a mite. At length, pressing still more tokens of -her love and bounty on him, which he as courteously denied, as she -kindly offered: one of her Women-slaves (as shee had before cunningly -appointed) sodainely calling her, forthwith she departed out of her -Chamber. And when she had continued a pretty while absent, she returned -againe weeping; and throwing her selfe downe upon her Pallet, breathed -forth such sighes and wofull lamentations, as no Woman could possibly -doe the like. - -_Salabetto_ amazedly wondering thereat, tooke her in his Armes, and -weeping also with her, said. Alas my deare Love, what sodain accident -hath befalne you, to urge this lamentable alteration? If you love me, -hide it not from me. After he had often entreated her in this manner, -casting her armes about his necke, and sighing as if her heart would -breake, thus she replyed. - -Ah _Salabetto_, the onely Jewell of my joy on earth, I knowe not what -to do, or say, for (even now) I received Letters from _Messina_, -wherein my Brother writes to me, that although it cost the sale of -all my goods, or whatsoever else I have beside, I must (within eight -dayes space) not faile to send him a thousand Florins of gold, or else -he must have his head smitten off, and I know not by what meanes to -procure them so soone. For, if the limitation of fifteene dayes might -serve the turne; I could borrow them in a place, where I can command a -farre greater summe, or else I would sell** some part of our Lands. But -beeing no way able to furnish him so soone, I would I had died before -I heard these dismall tydings. And in the uttering of these words, she -graced them with such cunning dissembled sorrow, as if she had meant -truly indeed. - -_Salabetto_, in whom the fury of his amorous flames, had consumed -a great part of his necessary understanding; beleeving these -counterfetted tears and complaints of hers, to proceed from an honest -meaning soule; rashly and foolishly thus replied. Deare _Biancafiore_, -I cannot furnish you with a thousand golden Florines, but am able to -lend you five hundred, if I were sure of their repayment at fifteene -dayes, wherein you are highly beholding to Fortune, that I have made -sale of all my Cloathes; which if they had lyen still on my hand, my -power could not stretch to lend you five Florines. Alas deare heart -(quoth she) would you be in such want of money, and hide it from her -that loves you so loyally? Why did you not make your need knowne to -me? Although I am not furnished of a thousand Florines; yet I have -alwaies ready three or foure hundred by me, to do any kinde office for -my friend. In thus wronging me, you have robd me of all boldnes, to -presume upon your offer made me. _Salabetto_, far faster inveigled by -these words then before, said. Let not my folly (bright _Biancafiore_) -cause you to refuse my friendly offer, in such a case of extreme -necessity: I have them ready prepared for you, and am heartily sorry, -that my power cannot furnish you with the whole summe. - -Then catching him fast in her armes, thus she answered. Now I plainly -perceive, my dearest _Salabetto_, that the love thou bearest me is true -and perfect; when, without expectation of being requested, thou art -readie to succour me in such an urgent neede, & with so faire a summe -of Florines. Sufficiently was I thine owne before, but now am much more -ingaged by so high deserving; with this particular acknowledgement -for ever, that my Brothers head was redeemed by thy goodnesse onely. -Heaven beareth me record, how unwilling I am to be beholding in this -kind, considring that you are a Merchant, & Merchants furnish al their -affairs with ready monis: but seeing necessity constraineth me, and -I make no doubt of repaiment at the time appointed: I shall the more -boldly accept your kindnes, with this absolute promise beside, that I -will rather sell all the houses I have, then breake my honest word with -you. - -Counterfeit teares still drayning downe her cheeks, and _Salabetto_ -kindly comforting her; he continued there with hir all that night, to -expresse himselfe her most liberall servant. And, without expecting -any more requesting, the next morning he brought her the five hundred -Florines, which she received with a laughing heart, but outward -dissembled weeping eies; _Salabetto_ never demanding any other -security, but onely her single promise. - -_Biancafiore_, having thus received the five hundred Florines, the -indiction of the Almanacke began to alter: and whereas (before) -_Salabetto_ could come see her whensoever he pleased, many occasions -now happened, whereby he came seven times for once, and yet his -entrance was scarsely admitted, neither was his entertainment so -affable, or his cheare so bountifull, as in his former accesses -thither. Moreover, when the time for repaiment was come, yea a moneth -or two over-past, and he demanded to have his money; hee could have -nothing but words for paiment. Now he began to consider on the -craft and cunning of this wicked Woman, as also his owne shallow -understanding, knowing he could make no proofe of his debt, but what -her selfe listed to say, having neither witnes, specialty, bill or bond -to shew: which made his folly so shamefull to him, that he durst not -complaine to any person, because he had received some advertisements -before, whereto he wold by no means listen, and now should have no -other amends, but publike infamie, scorne and disgrace, which made him -almost weary of his life, and much to bemoane his owne unhappinesse. He -received also divers Letters from his Master, to make returne of the -500. Florines over by way of banke, according as he had used to do: but -nowe could performe no such matter. - -Hereupon, because his error should not be discovered, he departed -in a small vessell thence, not making for _Pisa_, as he should have -done, but directly for _Naples_ hee shaped his course. At that instant -lodged there, _Don Pietro della Canigiano_, Treasurer of the Empresse -of _Constantinople_, a man of great wisedome and understanding, as -also very ingenious and politike, he being an especiall Favourer of -_Salabetto_ and all his friendes, which made him presume the more -boldly (being urged thereto by meere necessity, the best corrector of -wandering wits) to acquaint him with his lamentable misfortune, in -every particular as it had hapned, requesting his aid and advice, how -he might best weare out the rest of his dayes, because hee never meant -to visit _Florence_ any more. - -_Canigiano_ being much displeased at the repetition of his Follie, -sharply reproved him, saying. Thou hast done leudly, in carying thy -selfe so loosely, and spending thy Masters goods so carelesly, which -though I cannot truly tearme spent, but rather art meerely cousened -and cheated of them, yet thou seest at what a deere rate thou hast -purchased pleasure, which yet is not utterly helplesse, but may by -one meanes or other be recovered. And being a man of woonderfull -apprehension, advised him instantly what was to bee done, furnishing -him also with a summe of money, wherewith to adventure a second losse, -in hope of recovering the first againe: he caused divers Packes to -be well bound up, with the Merchants markes orderly made on them, -and bought about twenty Buttes or Barrelles, all filled (as it were) -with Oyle, and these pretended commodities being shipt, _Salabetto_ -returned with them to _Palermo_. Where having given in his packets to -the Custome-house, and entred them all under his owne name, as being -both owner and factor: all his Wares were lockt up in his _Magazine_,** -with open publication, that he would not vent any of them, before other -merchandises (which he daily expected) were there also arrived. - -_Biancafiore_ having heard thereof, and understanding withall, that he -had brought Merchandises now with him, amounting to above two thousand -Florins, staying also in expectation of other commodities, valewing -better then three thousand more, she beganne to consider with her -selfe, that she had not yet gotten money enough from him, and therefore -would cast a figure for a farre bigger booty. Which that she might the -more fairely effect, without so much as an imagination of the least -mistrust: she would repay him backe his five hundred Florines, to winne -from him a larger portion of two or three thousand at the least, and -having thus setled her determination, she sent to have him come speake -with her. _Salabetto_, having bene soundly bitten before, and therefore -the better warranted from the like ranckling teeth; willingly went to -her, not shewing any signe of former discontent: & she, seeming as if -she knew nothing of the wealth he brought with him; gracing him in as -loving manner as ever she had done, thus she spake. - -I am sure _Salabetto_, you are angry with mee, because I restored -not your Florines at my promised day. _Salabetto_ smiling, presently -answered. Beleeve me Lady (quoth he) it did a little distast me, even -as I could have bin offended with him, that should plucke out my heart -to bestow it on you, if it would yeelde you any contentment. But to -let you know unfainedly, how much I am incensed with anger against -you: such and so great is the affection I beare you, that I have solde -the better part of my whole estate, converting the same into Wealthy -Merchandises, which I have alreadie brought hither with mee, and -valewing above two thousand Florines, all which are stored up in in my -_Magazine_. There must they remaine, till another Ship come forth of -the Western parts, wherein I have a much greater adventure, amounting -unto more then three thousand Florines. And my purpose is, to make -my aboade heere in this City, which hath won the sole possession -of my heart, onely in regard of my _Biancafiore_, to whom I am so -intirely devoted, as both my selfe, and whatsoever else is mine (now or -hereafter) is dedicated onely to her service; whereto thus she replyed. - -Now trust me _Salabetto_, whatsoever redoundeth to thy good and -benefite, is the cheefest comfort of my soule, in regard I prize thy -love dearer then mine owne life, and am most joyfull of thy returne -hither againe; but much more of thy still abiding heere, because I -intend to live onely with thee, so soone as I have taken order for -some businesse of import. In the meane while, let me entreate thee -to hold me excused, because before thy departure hence, thou camest -sometimes to see me, without thy entrance admitted; and other-whiles -againe, found not such friendly entertainement, as formerly had bene -affoorded. But indeede, and above all the rest, in not re-paying thy -money according to my promise. But consider good _Salabetto_, in what -great trouble and affliction of minde I then was, both in regard of -my Brothers danger, and other important occurrences beside, which -molestations do much distract the senses, and hinder kinde courtesies, -which otherwise would bee extended liberally. - -Last of all consider also, how difficult a thing it is for a woman, so -sodainly to raise the summe of a thousand golden Florines, when one -friend promiseth, and performeth not; another protesteth, yet hath -no such meaning; a third sweareth, and yet proveth a false Lyar: so -that by being thus ungently used, a breach is made betweene the best -friends** living. From hence it proceeded, and no other defect else, -that I made not due returne of your five hundred Florins. No sooner -were you departed hence, but I had them readie, and as many more, and -could I have knowne whither to send them, they had bene with you long -time since, which because I could not (by any meanes) compasse, I kept -them still for you in continuall readinesse, as hoping of your comming -hither againe. So causing a purse to be brought, wherein the same -Florines were, which hee had delivered her; she gave it into his hand, -and prayed him to count them over, whether there were so many, or no. - -Never was _Salabettoes_ heart halfe so joyfull before; and having -counted them, found them to be his owne five hundred Florines: then, -putting them up into his pocket, he saide. Comfort of my life, Full -well I know that whatsoever you have saide, is most certaine; but -let us talke no more of falshood in friendship, or casuall accidents -happening unexpected: you have dealt with mee like a most loyall -Mistresse, and heere I protest unfainedly to you, that as well -in respect of this kinde courtesie, as also the constancy of mine -affection to you, you cannot request hereafter a far greater summe of -me, to supply any necessarie occasion of yours; but (if my power can -performe it) you shall assuredly finde it certaine: make proofe thereof -whensoever you please, after my other goods are Landed, and I have -established my estate here in your City. - -Having in this manner renewed his wonted amity with her, and with words -farre enough off from all further meaning: _Salabetto_ began againe -to frequent her company, she expressing all former familiarity, and -shewing her selfe as lavishly bountifull to him, in all respects as -before she had done, nay, many times in more magnificent manner. - -But he intending to punish her notorious trechery towards him, when -she left him as an open scorne to the World, wounded with disgrace, -and quite out of credit with all his friends: she having (on a day) -solemnly invited him, to suppe and lodge in her house all night; -he went, both with sad and melancholly lookes, seeming as overcome -with extreamity of sorrow. _Biancafiore_ mervayling at this strange -alteration in him, sweetly kissing and embracing him: would needs know -the reason of his passionate affliction, & he permitting her to urge -the question oftentimes together, without returning any direct answere; -to quit her in her kind, and with coine of her owne stampe, after a few -dissembled sighes, he began in this manner. - -Ah my dearest Love, I am utterly undone, because the Shippe containing -the rest of mine expected Merchandises, is taken by the Pyrates of -_Monago_, and put to the ransome of tenne thousand Florines of Gold, -and my part particularly, is to pay one thousand. At this instant I am -utterly destitute of money, because the five hundred Florines which I -received of you, I sent hence the next daie day following to _Naples_, -to buy more cloathes, which likewise are to be sent hither. And if I -should now make sale of the Merchandizes in my Magazine (the time of -generall utterance being not yet come) I shall not make a pennyworth -for a penny. And my misfortune is the greater, because I am not so well -knowne heere in your City, as to find some succour in such an important -distresse; wherefore I know not what to do or say. Moreover, if the -money be not speedily sent, our goods will be carried into _Monago_, -and then they are past all redemption utterly. - -_Biancafiore_ appearing greatly discontented, as one verily perswaded, -that this pretended losse was rather hers, then his, because she aymed -at the mainest part of all his wealth: began to consider with her -selfe, which was the likeliest course to be taken, for saving the -goods from carriage to _Monago_: whereupon thus she replied. Heaven -knoweth (my dearest _Salabetto_) how thy love maketh me sorrowfull for -this misfortune, and it greeveth me to see thee any way distressed: for -if I had mony lying by mee (as many times I have) thou shouldst finde -succour from my selfe onely, but indeede I am not able to helpe thee. -True it is, there is a friend of mine, who did lend me five hundred -Florines in my need, to make uppe the other summe which I borrowed of -thee: but he demandeth extreme interest, because he will not abate any -thing of thirty in the hundred, and if you should bee forced to use -him, you must give him some good security. Now for my part, the most of -my goods here I will pawne for thee: but what pledge can you deliver in -to make up the rest? Wel did _Salabetto_ conceive, the occasion why she -urged this motion, and was so diligent in doing him such a pleasure: -for it appeared evidently to him, that herselfe was to lend the mony, -whereof he was not a little joyfull, seeming very thankfull to hir. Then he -told her, that being driven to such extremity, how unreasonable soever -the usury was, yet he would gladly pay for it. And for her Friends -further security, hee would pawne him all the goods in his _Magazine_, -entering them downe in the name of the party, who lent the money. -Onely he desired to keepe the Keyes of the Ware-house, as well to shew -his Merchandises, when any Merchant should bee so desirous: as also -to preserve them from ill using, transporting or changing, before his -redemption of them. - -She found no fault with his honest offer, but sayde, hee shewed -himselfe a well-meaning man, and the next morning shee sent for a -Broker, in whom she reposed especiall trust; and after they had -privately consulted together, shee delivered him a thousand Golden -Florines, which were caried by him presently to _Salabetto_, and -the Bond made in the Brokers name, of all the goods remaining in -_Salabettoes_ ware-house, with composition and absolute agreement, -for the prefixed time of the monies repaiment. No sooner was this -tricke fully accomplished, but _Salabetto_ seeming as if he went to -redeeme his taken goods: set saile for _Naples_ towards _Pietro della -Canigiano_, with fifteene hundred Florines of Gold: from whence also -he sent contentment to his Master at _Florence_ (who imployd him as -his Factor at _Palermo_) beside his owne packes of Cloathes. He made -repayment likewise to _Canigiano_, for the monies which furnished -him in this last voyage, and any other to whom hee was indebted. So -there he stayed awhile with _Canigiano_, whose counsell thus holpe -him to out-reach the _Sicillian_ Courtezane: and meaning to deale in -Merchandise no more, afterward he returned to _Florence_ and there -lived in good reputation. - -Now as concerning _Biancafiore_, when she saw that _Salabetto_ returned -not againe to _Palermo_, she beganne to grow somewhat abashed, as halfe -suspecting that which followed. After she had tarried for him above -two moneths space, and perceived hee came not, nor any tydings heard -of him: shee caused the Broker to breake open the Magazine, casting -forth the Buttes or Barrels, which shee beleeved to bee full of good -Oyles. But they were all filled with Sea-Water, each of them having -a small quantity of Oyle floating on the toppe, onely to serve when -a tryall should bee made. And then unbinding the Packes, made up in -formall and Merchantable manner: there was nothing else in them, but -Logges and stumpes of Trees; wrapt handsomely in hurdles of Hempe and -Tow; onely two had Cloathes in them. So that (to bee briefe) the whole -did not value two hundred Crownes: which when she saw, and observed -how cunningly she was deceived: a long while after shee sorrowed, -for repaying backe the five hundred Florines, and folly in lending -a thousand more, using it as a Proverbe alwaies after to hir selfe: -_That whosoever dealt with a Tuscane, had neede to have found sight -and judgement._ So remaining contented (whither she would or no) with -her losse: she plainly perceyved, that although she lived by cheating -others, yet now at the length she had mette with her match. - - * * * * * - -So soone as _Dioneus_ had ended his Novell, Madame _Lauretta_ also -knew, that the conclusion of her Regiment was come; whereupon, when -the counsell of _Canigiano_ had past with generall commendation, and -the wit of _Salabetto_ no lesse applauded, for fitting it with such -an effectuall prosecution; shee tooke the Crowne of Laurell from her -owne head, and set it upon Madame _Æmilliaes_, speaking graciously in -this manner. Madam, I am not able to say, how pleasant a Queene we -shall have of you, but sure I am, that we shall enjoy a faire one: let -matters therefore be so honourably carried; that your government may be -answerable to your beautifull perfections; which words were no sooner -delivered, but she sate downe in her mounted seate. - -Madame _Æmillia_ being somewhat bashfull, not so much of hir being -created Queene, as to heare her selfe thus publikely praysed, with that -which Women do most of all desire: her face then appearing, like the -opening of the Damaske Rose, in the goodlyest morning. But after she -had a while dejected her lookes, and the Vermillion blush was vanished -away: having taken order with the Master of the houshold, for all -needefull occasions befitting the assembly, thus she began. - -Gracious Ladies, wee behold it daily, that those Oxen which have -laboured in the yoake most part of the day, for their more convenient -feeding, are let forth at liberty, and permitted to wander abroad in -the Woods. We see moreover, that Gardens and Orchards, being planted -with variety of the fairest fruit Trees, are equalled in beauty by -Woods and Forrests, in the plentifull enjoying of as goodly spreading -branches. In consideration whereof, remembring how many dayes wee have -already spent (under the severitie of Lawes imposed) shaping all our -discourses to a forme of observation: I am of opinion, that it will not -onely well become us, but also prove beneficiall for us, to live no -longer under such restraint, and like enthralled people, desirous of -liberty, wee should no more be subjected to the yoke, but recover our -former strength in walking freely. - -Wherefore, concerning our pastime purposed for to morrow, I am -not minded to use any restriction, or tye you unto any particular -ordination: but rather do liberally graunt, that every one shall devise -and speake of arguments agreeing with your owne dispositions. - -Besides, I am verily perswaded, that variety of matter uttered so -freely, will be much more delightfull, then restraint to one kinde of -purpose onely. Which being thus granted by me, whosoever shall succeede -me in the government may (as being of more power and preheminence) -restraine all backe againe to the accustomed lawes. And having thus -spoken, she dispensed with their any longer attendance, untill it -should be Supper time. - -Every one commended the Queenes appointment, allowing it to rellish of -good wit and judgement; and being all risen, fell to such exercises -as they pleased. The Ladies made Nosegaies and Chaplets of Flowers, -the men played on their Instruments, singing divers sweete Ditties to -them, and thus were busied untill Supper time. Which beeing come, and -they supping about the beautifull Fountains: after Supper, they fell -to singing and dauncing. In the end, the Queene, to imitate the order -of her predecessors, commanded _Pamphilus_, that notwithstanding all -the excellent songs formerly sung: he should now sing one, whereunto -dutifully obeying, thus he began. - - THE SONG. - - The Chorus sung by all. - - _Love, I found such felicitie, - And joy, in thy captivitie: - As I before did never prove, - And thought me happy, being in Love._ - - _Comfort abounding in my hart, - Joy and Delight - In soule and spright - I did possesse in every part; - O Soveraigne Love by thee. - Thy Sacred fires, - Fed my desires, - And still aspires, - Thy happy thrall to bee. - Love, I found such felicity, &c._ - - _My Song wants power to relate, - The sweets of minde - Which I did finde - In that most blissefull state, - O Soveraigne Love by thee. - No sad despaire, - Or killing care - Could me prepare; - Still thou didst comfort me. - Love, I found such felicity, &c._ - - _I hate all such as do complaine, - Blaspheming thee - With Cruelty, - And sleights of coy disdaine. - O Soveraigne Love, to mee - Thou hast bene kinde: - If others finde. - Thee worse inclinde, - Yet I will honour thee._ - - _LOVE, I found such felicitie, - And joy in thy Captivitie: - As I before did never prove, - But thought me happie, being in Love._ - -Thus the Song of _Pamphilus_ ended, whereto all the rest (as a Chorus) -answered with their Voyces, yet every one particularly (according -as they felt their Love-sicke passions) made a curious construction -thereof, perhaps more then they needed, yet not Divining what -_Pamphilus_ intended. And although they were transported with variety -of imaginations; yet none of them could arrive** at his true meaning -indeed. Wherefore the Queene, perceiving the Song to be fully ended, -and the Ladies, as also the young Gentlemen, willing to go take their -rest: she commaunded them severally to their Chambers. - - -_The End of the Eight Day._ - - - - -THE NINTH DAY. - - -_Whereon, under the Government of Madame_ ÆMILLIA, _the Argument of -each severall Discourse, is not limitted to any one peculiar subject: -but every one remaineth at liberty, to speak of whatsoever themselves -best pleaseth._ - - -The Induction. - - -Faire _Aurora_, from whose bright and chearefull lookes, the duskie -darke night flyeth as an utter enemy, had already reached so high -as the eight Heaven, converting it all into an Azure colour, and -the pretty Flowrets beganne to spred open their Leaves: when Madame -_Æmillia_, beeing risen, caused all her female attendants, and -the yong Gentlemen likewise, to be summoned for their personall -appearance. Who being all come, the Queen leading the way, and they -following her Majesticke pace, walked into a little Wood, not farre off -distant from the Palace. - -No sooner were they there arrived, but they beheld store of Wilde -Beasts, as Hindes, Hares, Goats, and such like; so safely secured from -the pursuite of Huntsmen (by reason of the violent Pestilence then -reigning) that they stood gazing boldly at them, as dreadlesse of any -danger, or as if they were become tame and Domesticke. - -Approaching neerer them, first to one, then unto another, as if they -purposed to play gently with them, they then beganne to skippe and -runne, making them such pastime with their pretty tripping, that they -conceyved great delight in beholding of them. - -But when they beheld the Sunne to exalt itselfe, it was thought -convenient to return back again, shrouding themselves under the Trees -spreading armes, their hands full of sweete Flowers and Odorifferous -Hearbes, which they had gathered in their Walking. So that such as -chanced to meete them, could say nothing else: but that death knew not -by what meanes to conquer them, or els they had set down an absolute -determination, to kill him with their Joviall disposition. - -In this manner, singing, dancing, or prettily pratling, at length they -arrived at the Palace, where they found all things readily prepared, -and their Servants duly attending for them. After they hadde reposed -themselves awhile, they would not (as yet) sit downe at the Table, -untill they had sung halfe a dozen of Canzonets, some more pleasant -then another, both the women and men together. - -Then they fell to washing hands, and the Maister of the Houshold caused -them to sit downe, according as the Queene had appointed, and Dinner -was most sumptuously served in before them. Afterward, when the Tables -were with-drawne, they all tooke handes to dance a Roundelay; which -being done, they plaied on their Instruments a while; and then, such as -so pleased, tooke their rest. But when the accustomed houre was come, -they all repaired to the place of discoursing, where the Queen, looking -on Madam _Philomena_, gave her the honor of beginning the first Novell -for that day: whereto shee dutifully condiscending, began as followeth. - - - - -_Madam_ Francesca, _a Widdow of_ Pistoya, _being affected by two_ -Florentine _Gentlemen, the one named_ Rinuccio Palermini, _and the -other_ Alessandro Chiarmontesi, _and she bearing no good will to eyther -of them; ingeniously freed her selfe from both their importunate -suites. One of them she caused to lye as dead in a grave, and the other -to fetch him from thence: so neither of them accomplishing what they -were enjoyned, fayled of obtaining his hoped expectation._ - -The First Novell. - -_Approving, that chaste and honest Women, ought rather to deny -importunate suiters, by subtile and ingenious meanes, then fall into -the danger of scandall and slander._ - - -Madame, it can no way discontent mee (seeing it is your most gracious -pleasure) that I should have the honour, to breake the first staffe of -freedome in this faire company (according to the injunction of your -Majesty) for liberty of our own best liking arguments: wherein I dismay -not (if I can speake well enough) but to please you all as well, as any -other that is to follow me. Nor am I so oblivious (worthy Ladies) but -full well I remember, that many times hath bene related in our passed -demonstrations, how mighty and variable the powers of love are: and yet -I cannot be perswaded, that they have all bene so sufficiently spoken -of, but something may bee further added, and the bottome of them never -dived into, although we should sit arguing a whole yeare together. And -because it hath beene alreadie approved, that Lovers have bene led -into divers accidents, not onely inevitable dangers of death, but also -have entred into the verie houses of the dead, thence to convey their -amorous friends: I purpose to acquaint you with a Novell, beside them -which have bene discoursed; whereby you may not onely comprehend the -power of Love, but also the wisedome used by an honest Gentlewoman, to -rid her selfe of two importunate suiters, who loved her against her -owne liking, yet neither of them knowing the others affection. - -In the City of _Pistoya_, there dwelt sometime a beautifull -Gentlewoman, being a Widdow, whom two of our _Florentines_ (the one -named _Rinuccio Palermini_, and the other _Alessandro Chiarmontesi_), -having withdrawne themselves to _Pistoya_ desperately affected, the -one ignorant of the others intention, but each carrying his case -closely, as hoping to be possessed of her. This Gentlewoman, named -Madame _Francesca de Lazzari_, being often solicited by their messages, -and troublesomely pestered with their importunities: at last (lesse -advisedly then she intended) shee granted admittance to heare either of -them speake. Which she repenting, and coveting to be rid of them both, -a matter not easie to be done: she wittily devised the onely meanes, -namely, to move such a motion to them, as neither would willingly -undertake, yet within the compasse of possibility; but they failing in -the performance, shee might have the more honest occasion, to bee free -from all further molestation by them, and her politike intention was -thus projected. - -On the same day, when she devised this peece of service, a man was -buried in _Pistoya_, and in the Church-yard belonging unto the gray -Friars, who being descended of good and worthie parentage: yet himselfe -was very infamous, and reputed to be the vilest man living, not onely -there in _Pistoya_, but throughout the whole World beside. Moreover, -while he lived, he had such a strange misshapen body, and his face so -ugly deformed, that such as knew him not, would stand gastly affrighted -at the first sight of him. In regarde whereof, shee considered with her -selfe, that the foule deformitie of this loathed fellow, would greatly -avayle in her determination, and consulting with her Chamber-maid, thus -she spake. - -Thou knowest (my most true and faithfull servant) what trouble and -affliction of minde I suffer dayly, by the messages and Letters of -the two _Florentines, Rinuccio_ and _Alessandro,_ how hatefull their -importunity is to me, as being utterly unwilling to hear them speake, -or yeeld to any thing which they desire. Wherefore, to free my selfe -from them both together, I have devised (in regard of their great -and liberall offers) to make triall of them in such a matter, as I am -assured they will never performe. - -It is not unknowne to thee, that in the Church-yard of the Gray -Friars, and this instant morning, _Scannadio_ (for so was the ugly -fellow named) was buried; of whom, when he was living, as also now -being dead, both men, women, and children, doe yet stand in feare, so -gastly and dreadfull alwayes was his personall appearance to them. -Wherefore, first of all go thou to _Alessandro_, and say to him thus. -My Mistris _Francesca_ hath sent me to you, to tell you, that now the -time is come, wherein you may deserve to enjoy her love, and gaine the -possession of her person, if you will accomplish such a motion as she -maketh to you. For some especiall occasion, wherewith hereafter you -shall bee better acquainted, a neere Kinsman of hers, must needs have -the body of _Scannadio_ (who was buried this morning) brought to her -house. And she, being as much affraid of him now he is dead, as when he -was living, by no meanes would have his body brought thither. - -In which respect, as a Token of your unfeigned love to her, and the -latest service you shall ever do for her: shee earnestly entreateth -you, that this night, in the very deadest time thereof, you would go to -the grave, where _Scannadio_ lyeth yet uncovered with earth untill to -morrow, and attyring your selfe in his garments, even as if you were -the man himselfe, so to remaine there untill her kinsman doe come. - -Then, without speaking any one word, let him take you foorth of the -grave, & bring you thence (insted of _Scannadio_) to hir house: where -she will give you gentle welcome, and disappoint her Kinsman in his -hope, by making you Lord of her, and all that is hers, as afterward -shall plainly appeare. If he say he will do it, it is as much as I -desire: but if hee trifle and make deniall, then boldly tell him, that -he must refraine all places wheresoever I am, and forbeare to send me -any more Letters, or messages. - -Having done so, then repaire to _Rinuccio Palermini_, and say. My -Mistresse _Francesca_ is ready to make acceptance of your love; -provided, that you will do one thing for her sake. Namely, this ensuing -night, in the midst & stillest season thereof, to go to the grave where -_Scannadio_ was this morning buried, & (without making any noise) or -speaking one word, whatsoever you shall heare or see: to take him forth -of the grave, and bring him home to her house, where you shall know -the reason of this strange businesse, and enjoy her freely as your -owne for ever. But if he refuse to do it, then I commaund him, never -hereafter to see me, or move further suite unto mee, by any meanes -whatsoever. - -The Chamber-maide went to them both, and delivered the severall -messages from her Mistresse, according as she had given her in charge; -whereunto each of them answered, that they woulde (for her sake) not -onely descend into a Grave, but also into hell, if it were her pleasure. - -She returning with this answer unto her Mistresse, _Francesca_ remained -in expectation, what the issue of these fond attemptes in them, would -sort unto. When night was come, and the middle houre thereof already -past, _Alessandro Chiarmontesi_, having put off all other garments -to his doublet and hose, departed secretly from his lodging, walking -towards the Church-yard, where _Scannadio_ lay in his grave: but by the -way as he went, hee became surprized with divers dreadfull conceites -and imaginations, and questioned with himselfe thus. - -What a beast am I? What a businesse have I undertaken? And whither am I -going? What do I know, but that the Kinsman unto this Woman, perhappes -understanding mine affection to her, and crediting some such matter, -as is nothing so; hath laide this politicke traine for me, that he -may murther me in the grave? Which (if it should so happen) my life -is lost, and yet the occasion never knowne whereby it was done. Or -what know I, whether some secret enemy of mine (affecting her in like -manner, as I do) have devised this stratagem (out of malice) against -mee, to draw my life in danger, and further his owne good Fortune? -Then, contrary motions, overswaying these suspitions, he questioned his -thoughts in another nature. - -Let me (quoth he) admit the case, that none of these surmises are -intended, but her Kinsman (by and in this manner devised) must bring -me into her house: I am not therefore perswaded, that he or they do -covet, to have the body of _Scannadio_, either to carry it thither, -or present it to her, but rather do aime at some other end. May not I -conjecture, that my close murthering is purposed, and this way acted, -as on him that (in his life time) had offended them? The Maid hath -straitly charged me, that whatsoever is said or done unto me, I am not -to speake a word. What if they pul out mine eies, teare out my teeth, -cut off my hands, or do me any other mischiefe: Where am I then? Shall -all these extremities barre me of speaking? On the other side, if I -speake, then I shall be knowne, and so much the sooner (perhaps) be -abused. But admit that I sustaine no injurie at all, as being guilty of -no transgression: yet (perchance) I shall not be carried to her house, -but to some other baser place, and afterward she shall reprove me, -that I did not accomplish what shee commanded, and so all my labour is -utterly lost. - -Perplexed with these various contradicting opinions, he was willing -divers times to turne home backe againe: yet such was the violence -of his love, and the power thereof prevailing against all sinister -arguments; as he went to the grave, and removing the boordes covering -it, whereinto he entred; and having despoiled _Scannadio_ of his -garments, cloathed himselfe with them, & so laid him down, having -first covered the grave againe. Not long had hee tarryed there, but he -began to bethinke him, what manner of man _Scannadio_ was, and what -strange reports had bene noised of him, not onely for ransicking dead -mens graves in the night season, but many other abhominable Villanies -committed by him, which so fearfully assaulted him; that his haire -stoode on end, every member of him quaked, and every minute he imagined -_Scannadio_ rising, with intent to strangle him in the grave. But his -fervent affection overcoming all these idle feares, and lying stone -still, as if he had beene the dead man indeede; he remained to see the -end of his hope. - -On the contrary side, after midnight was past, _Rinuccio Palermini_ -departed from his lodging, to do what hee was enjoyned by his hearts -Mistresse, and as hee went along, divers considerations also ran in -his minde, concerning occasions possible to happen. As, falling into -the hands of Justice, with the body of _Scannadio_ upon his backe, and -being condemned for sacriledge, in robbing graves of the dead; either -to be burned, or otherwise so punished, as might make him hatefull to -his best friends, and meerely a shame to himselfe. - -Many other the like conceits molested him, sufficient to alter his -former determination: but affection was much more prevayling in him, -and made him use this consultation. How now _Rinuccio_? Wilt thou dare -to deny the first request, being mooved to thee by a Gentlewoman, whom -thou dearly lovest, and is the onely meanes, whereby to gaine assurance -of her gracious favour? Undoubtedly, were I sure to die in the attempt, -yet I will accomplish my promise. And so he went on with courage to the -grave. - -_Alessandro_ hearing his arrivall, and also the removall of the bords, -although he was exceedingly affraid; yet he lay quietly still, and -stirred not, and _Rinuccio_ beeing in the grave, tooke _Alessandro_ by -the feete, haling him forth, and (mounting him uppon his backe) went on -thus loden, towards the house of Madam _Francesca_. As he passed along -the streets, unseene or unmet by any, _Alessandro_ suffered many shrewd -rushings and punches, by turnings at the streets corners, and jolting -against bulkes, poasts, and stalles, which _Rinuccio_ could not avoyd, -in regard the night was so wonderfully darke, as hee could not see -which way he went. - -Being come somewhat neere to the Gentlewomans house, and she standing -readie in the Window with her Maide, to see when _Rinuccio_ should -arrive there with _Alessandro_, provided also of an apt excuse, to send -them thence like a couple of Coxcombes; it fortuned, that the Watchmen, -attending there in the same streete, for the apprehension of a banished -man, stolne into the City contrarie to order; hearing the trampling -of _Rinuccioes_ feete, directed their course as they heard the noise, -having their Lanthorne and light closely covered, to see who it should -be, and what he intended, and beating their weapons against the ground, -demanded, Who goes there? _Rinuccio_ knowing their voyces, and that now -was no time for any long deliberation: let fall _Alessandro_, and ran -away as fast as his legs could carry him. - -_Alessandro_ being risen againe (although he was cloathed in -_Scannadioes_ Garments, which were long and too bigge for him) fledde -away also as _Rinuccio_ did. All which Madame _Francesca_ easily -discerned by helpe of the Watchmens Lanthorne, and how _Rinuccio_ -carried _Alessandro_ on his backe, beeing attired in the Garments of -_Scannadio_: whereat she mervailed not a little, as also the great -boldnesse of them both. But in the midst of her mervailing, she -laughed very heartily, when she saw the one let the other fall, and -both to runne away so manfully. Which accident pleasing her beyond -all comparison, and applauding her good Fortune, to bee so happily -delivered from their daily molestation: she betooke herselfe to hir -Chamber with the Maide, avouching solemnly to her, that (questionlesse) -they both affected her dearely, having undertaken such a straunge -imposition, and verie neere brought it to a finall conclusion. - -_Rinuccio_, being sadly discontented, and curssing his hard fortune, -would not yet returne home to his Lodging: but, when the watch was -gone forth of that streete, came backe to the place where he let fall -_Alessandro_, purposing to accomplish the rest of his enterprize. -But not finding the body, and remaining fully perswaded, that the -Watchmen were possessed thereof; hee went away, greeving extreamly. And -_Alessandro_, not knowing now what should become of him: confounded -with the like griefe and sorrow, that all his hope was thus utterly -overthrowne, retired thence unto his owne house, not knowing who was -the Porter which carried him. - -The next morning, the grave of _Scannadio_ being found open, & the -body not in it, because _Alessandro_ had thrown it into a deep ditch -neere adjoyning: all the people of _Pistoya_ were possessed with -sundry opinions, some of the more foolish sort verily beleeving, that -the divell had caried away the dead body. Neverthelesse, each of the -Lovers, severally made knowne to Madam _Francesca_, what he had done, -and how disappointed, either excusing himselfe, that though her command -had not bin fully accomplished, yet to continue her favour towards -him. But she, like a wise and discreet Gentlewoman, seeming not to -credit either the one or other: discharged her selfe honestly of them -both, with a cutting answere, That shee would never (afterward) expect -any other service from them, because they had fayled in their first -injunction. - - - - -_Madame_ Usimbalda, _Lady Abbesse of a Monastery of Nuns in_ Lombardie, -_arising hastily in the night time without a Candle, to take one of her -Daughter Nunnes in bed with a yong Gentleman, whereof she was enviously -accused, by certaine of her other Sisters: The Abbesse her selfe (being -at the same time in bed with a Priest) imagining to have put on her -head her plaited vayle, put on the Priests breeches. Which when the -poore Nunne perceyved; by causing the Abbesse to see her owne error, -she got her selfe to be absolved, and had the freer liberty afterward, -to be more familiar with her frend, then formerly she had bin._ - -The Second Novell. - -_Whereby is declared, that whosoever is desirous to reprehend sinne in -other men, should first examine himselfe, that he be not guiltie of the -same crime._ - - -By this time, Madame _Philomena_ sate silent, and the wit of -_Francesca_, in freeing her selfe from them whom she could not fancie, -was generally commended: as also on the contrary, the bold presumption -of the two amorous suiters, was reputed not to be love, but meerely -folly. And then the Queene, with a gracious admonition, gave way for -Madam Eliza to follow next; who presently thus began. - -Worthy Ladies, Madame _Francesca_ delivered her selfe discreetly from -trouble, as already hath bin related: but a yong Nun, by the helpe and -favour of Fortune, did also free her selfe (in speaking advisedly) from -an inconvenience sodainly falling on her. And as you well know, there -wants none of them, who (like bold Bayards) will be very forward in -checking other mens misdemeanours, when themselves, as my Novell will -approve, deserve more justly to bee corrected. As hapned to a Lady -Abbesse, under whose governement the same young Nunne was, of whom I am -now to speake. - -You are then to understand (Gracious Auditors) that in _Lombardie_ -there was a goodly Monastery, very famous for Holinesse and Religion, -where, among other sanctified Sisters, there was a yong Gentlewoman, -endued with very singular beautie, being named _Isabella_, who on -a day, when a Kinsman of hers came to see her at the grate, became -enamored of a young Gentleman, being then in his company. - -He likewise, beholding her to be so admirably beautifull, & conceyving -by the pretty glances of her eye, that they appeared to bee silent -intelligencers of the hearts meaning, grew also as affectionately -inclined towards her, and this mutuall love continued thus concealed -a long while, but not without great affliction unto them both. In -the end, either of them being circumspect and provident enough, the -Gentleman contrived a meanes, whereby he might secretly visite his -Nunne, wherewith she seemed no way discontented: and this visitation -was not for once or twice, but verie often, and closely concealed to -themselves. - -At length it came to passe, that either through their owne indiscreete -carriage, or jelous suspition in some others: it was espied by one of -the Sisters, both the Gentlemans comming and departing, yet unknowne -to him or _Isabella_. The saide Sister, disclosing the same to two or -three more: they agreed together, to reveale it to the Lady Abbesse, -who was named Madame _Usimbalda_, a holy and devout Lady, in common -opinion of all the Nunnes, and whosoever else knew her. - -They further concluded (because _Isabella_ should not deny theyr -accusation) to contrive the businesse so cunningly: that the Ladie -Abbesse should come her selfe in person, and take the yong Gentleman in -bed with the Nun. And uppon this determination, they agreed to watch -nightly by turnes, because by no meanes they wold be prevented: so to -surprise poore _Isabella_, who beeing ignorant of their treachery, -suspected nothing. Presuming thus still on this secret felicitie, and -fearing no disaster to befall her: it chaunced (on a night) that the -yong Gentleman being entred into the Nuns Dorter, the Scowts had -descried him, & intended to be revenged on her. - -After some part of the night was overpast, they divided themselves into -two bands, one to guard _Isabellaes_ Dorter doore, the other to carry -newes to the Abbesse, and knocking at her Closet doore, saide. Rise -quickely Madame, and use all the hast you may, for we have seene a man -enter our Sister _Isabellaes_ Dorter, and you may take her in bed with -him. The Lady Abbesse, who (the very same night) had the company of a -lusty Priest in bed with her selfe, as oftentimes before she had, and -he being alwayes brought thither in a Chest: hearing these tidings, -and fearing also, lest the Nunnes hastie knocking at her doore, might -cause it to fly open, and so (by their entrance) have her owne shame -discovered: arose very hastily, and thinking she had put on her plaited -vaile, which alwayes she walked with in the night season, and used to -tearme her Psalter; she put the Priests breeches upon her head, and -so went away in all hast with them, supposing them verily to be her -Psalter: but making fast the Closet doore with her keye, because the -Priest should not be discovered. - -Away shee went in all haste with the Sisters, who were so forward in -the detection of poore _Isabella_, as they never regarded what manner -of vaile the Lady Abbesse wore on her head. And being come to the -Dorter doore, quickly they lifted it off from the hookes, and being -entred, found the two Lovers sweetly imbracing: but yet so amazed at -this sudden surprisall, as they durst not stirre, nor speake one word. -The young Nunne _Isabella_, was raised forthwith by the other Sisters, -and according as the Abbesse had commaunded, was brought by them into the -Chapter-house: the young Gentleman remaining still in the Chamber, where -he put on his garments, awaiting to see the issue of this businesse, -and verily intending to act severe revenge on his betrayers, if any -harme were done to _Isabella_, and afterward to take her thence away -with him, as meaning to make her amends by marriage. - -The Abbesse being seated in the Chapter house, and all the other Nunnes -then called before her, who minded nothing else but the poore offending -Sister: she began to give her very harsh and vile speeches, as never -any transgressor suffered the like, and as to her who had (if it should -be openly knowne abroad) contaminated by her lewde life and actions, -the sanctity and good renowne of the whole Monastery, and threatned her -with very severe chastisement. Poore _Isabella_, confounded with feare -and shame, as being no way able to excuse her fault, knew not what -answer to make, but standing silent, made her case compassionable to -all the rest, even those hard-hearted Sisters which betrayed her. - -And the Abbesse still continuing her harsh speeches, it fortuned, -that _Isabella_, raising her head, which before she dejected into hir -bosome, espied the breeches on her head, with the stockings hanging on -either side of her; the sight whereof did so much encourage her, that -boldly she said. Madam, let a poore offender advise you for to mend -your veile, and afterward say to me what you will. - -The Abbesse being very angry; and not understanding what she meant, -frowningly answered. Why how now saucy companion? What vaile are you -prating of? Are you so malapert, to bee chatting already? Is the deed -you have done, to be answered in such immodest manner? _Isabella_ not -a jot danted by her sterne behaviour, once againe said. Good Madam let -me perswade you to sette your vaile right, and then chide me as long -as you will. At these words, all the rest of the Nunnes exalted their -lookes, to behold what vaile the Abbesse wore on her head, wherewith -_Isabella_ should finde such fault, and she her selfe lift up her -hand to feele it: and then they all perceyved plainly, the reason of -_Isabellas_ speeches, and the Abbesse saw her owne error. - -Hereupon, when the rest observed, that she had no help to cloud this -palpable shame withall, the tide began to turne, and hir tongue found -another manner of Language, then her former fury to poore _Isabella_, -growing to this conclusion, that it is impossible to resist against -the temptations of the flesh. And therefore she saide: Let all of you -take occasion, according as it offereth it selfe, as both we and our -predecessors have done: to be provident for your selves, take time -while you may, having this sentence alwaies in remembrance, _Si non -caste, tamen caute_. - -So, having granted the yong Nunne _Isabella_ free absolution: the Lady -Abbesse returned backe againe to bed to the Priest, and _Isabella_ to -the Gentleman. As for the other Sisters, who (as yet) were without the -benefit of friends; they intended to provide themselves so soone as -they could, being enduced thereto by so good example. - - - - -_Master_ Simon _the Physitian, by the perswasions of_ Bruno, -Buffalmaco, _and a third Companion, named_ Nello, _made_ Calandrino -_to beleeve, that he was conceived great with childe. And having -Physicke ministred to him for the disease: they got both good fatte -Capons and money of him, and so cured him, without any other manner of -deliverance._ - -The Third Novell. - -_Discovering the simplicity of some silly witted men, and how easie a -matter it is to abuse and beguile them._ - - -After that Madame _Eliza_ had concluded her Novell, and every one of -the company given thankes to Fortune, for delivering poore _Isabella_ -the faire young Nunne, from the bitter reprehensions of the as faulty -Abbesse, as also the malice of her envious Sisters: the Queene gave -command unto _Philostratus_, that he should be the next in order, and -hee (without expecting anie other warning) began in this manner. - -Faire Ladies, the paltry Judge of the Marquisate, whereof yesterday I -made relation to you; hindred mee then of another Novell, concerning -silly _Calandrino_, wherewith I purpose now to acquaint you. And -because whatsoever hath already bin spoken of him, tended to no other -end but matter of meriment, hee and his companions duly considered: the -Novel which I shall now report, keepeth within the selfesame compasse, -and aimeth also at your contentment, according to the scope of imposed -variety. - -You have already heard what manner of man _Calandrino_ was, and -likewise the rest of his pleasant Companions, who likewise are now -againe to be remembred, because they are actors in our present -discourse. It came so to passe, that an Aunt of _Calandrinoes_ dying, -left him a legacy of two hundred Florines, wherewith he purposed to -purchase some small Farme-house in the countrey, or else to enlarge -the other, whereof he was possessed already. And, as if hee were to -disburse some ten thousand Florines, there was not a Broker in all -_Florence_, but understood what he intended to doe; and all the worst -was, that the strings of his purse could stretch no higher. _Bruno_, -and _Buffalmaco_ (his auncient Confederates) who heard of this good -Fortune befalne him, advised him in such manner as they were wont to -do; allowing it much better for him, to make merrie with the money in -good cheare among them, then to lay it out in paltry Land, whereto -he would not by any meanes listen, but ridde himselfe of them with a -dinners cost, as loath to bee at anie further charge with them. - -These merry Laddes meant not to leave him so; but sitting one day in -serious consultation, and a third man in their companie, named _Nello_; -they all three layde their braines in steep, by what means to wash -their mouths well, and _Calandrino_ to bee at the cost thereof. - -And having resolved what was to bee done, they met togither the next -morning, even as _Calandrino_ was comming foorth of his house, and -sundering themselves, to avoyd all suspition, yet beeing not farre -distant each from other; _Nello_ first met him, and saide unto him, -Good Morrow _Calandrino_: which he requited backe agayne with the same -salutation. But then _Nello_ standing still, looked him stedfastly in -the face: whereat _Calandrino_ mervailing, sayd: _Nello_, why dost thou -behold me so advisedly? Whereunto _Nello_ answered, saying Hast thou -felt any paine this last night past? Thou lookest nothing so well, as -thou didst yesterday. _Calandrino_ began instantly to wax doubtfull, -and replyed thus. Dost thou see any alteration in my face, whereby to -imagine, I should feele some paine? In good faith _Calandrino_ (quoth -_Nello_) me thinks thy countenance is strangely changed, and surely it -proceedeth from some great cause, and so he departed away from him. - -_Calandrino_ being very mistrustfull, scratched his head, yet felte -he no grievance at all; and going still on; _Buffalmaco_ sodainely -encountred him, upon his departure from _Nello_, and after salutations -passing betweene them; in a manner of admiration, demanded what he -ayled. - -Truly (quoth _Calandrino_) well enough to mine owne thinking, yet -notwithstanding, I met with _Nello_ but even now; and he told me, that -my countenance was very much altred; Is it possible that I should bee -sicke, and feele no paine or distaste in any part of me? _Buffalmaco_ -answered; I am not so skilfull in judgement, as to argue on the Nature -of distemper in the body: but sure I am, that thou hast some daungerous -inward impediment, because thou lookst (almost) like a man more then -halfe dead. - -_Calandrino_ began presently to shake, as if hee had had a Feaver -hanging on him, and then came _Bruno_ looking fearefully on him, and -before he would utter any words, seemed greatly to bemoane him, saying -at length. _Calandrino_? Art thou the same man, or no? How wonderfully -art thou changed since last I saw thee, which is no longer then yester -day? I pray thee tell mee, How dooest thou feele thy health? - -_Calandrino_ hearing, that they all agreed in one opinion of him; -he beganne verily to perswade himselfe, that some sodaine sicknes, -had seised upon him, which they could discerne, although hee felt no -anguish at all: and therefore, like a man much perplexed in minde, -demanded of them, What he should do? Beleeve mee _Calandrino_ (answered -_Bruno_) if I were worthy to give thee counsell, thou shouldst returne -home presently to thy house, and lay thee downe in thy warme Bedde, -covered with so many cloathes as thou canst well endure. Then to Morrow -morning, send thy Water unto Learned Mayster Doctor the Physitian, who -(as thou knowest) is a man of most singular skill and experience: he -will instruct thee presently what is the best course to be taken, and -we that have ever beene thy loving friends, will not faile thee in any -thing that lieth in our power. - -By this time, _Nello_ being come againe unto them, they all returned -home with _Calandrino_ unto his owne house, whereinto he entering very -faintly, hee saide to his Wife: Woman, make my Bed presently ready, -for I feele my selfe to be growne extreamely sicke, and see that thou -layest cloathes enow upon me. Being thus laide in his Bedde, they left -him for that night, and returned to visite him againe the verie next -morning, by which time, he had made a reservation of his Water, and -sent it by a young Damosell unto Maister Doctor, who dwelt then in -the olde market place, at the signe of the Muske Mellone. Then saide -_Bruno_ unto his Companions; Abide you heere to keepe him company, and -I will walke along to the Physitian, to understand what he will say: -and if neede be, I can procure him to come hither with me. _Calandrino_ -very kindely accepted his offer, saying withall. Well _Bruno_, thou -shewst thy selfe a friend in the time of necessity, I pray thee know of -him, how the case stands with me, for I feele a very strange alteration -within mee, far beyond all compasse of my conceite. - -_Bruno_ being gone to the Physitian, he made such expedition, that he -arrived there before the Damosell, who carried the Water, and informed -Master _Simon_ with the whole tricke intended: wherefore, when the -Damosell was come, and hee had passed his judgement concerning the -water, he said to her. - -Maide, go home againe, and tell _Calandrino_, that he must keepe -himselfe very warme: and I my selfe will instantly be with him, to -enstruct him further in the quality of his sicknesse. - -The Damosell delivered her message accordingly, and it was not long -before Mayster Doctor _Simon_ came, with _Bruno_ also in his company, -and sitting downe on the beds side by _Calandrino_, hee began to taste -his pulse, and within a small while after, his Wife being come into the -Chamber, he said. Observe me well _Calandrino_, for I speake to thee in -the nature of a true friend; thou hast no other disease, but only thou -art great with child. - -So soone as _Calandrino_ heard these words, in dispairing manner he -beganne to rage, and cry out aloud, saying to his wife. Ah thou wicked -woman, this is long of thee, and thou hast done me this mischeefe: -for alwayes thou wilt be upon me, ever railing at mee, and fighting, -untill thou hast gotten me under thee. Say thou divellish creature, -do I not tell thee true? The Woman, being of verie honest and civill -conversation, hearing her husband speake so foolishly: blushing with -shame, and hanging downe her head in bashfull manner; without returning -any answer, went forth of her Chamber. - -_Calandrino_ continuing still in his angry humour, wringing his hands, -and beating them upon his brest, said: Wretched man that I am, What -shall I do? How shall I be delivered of this child? Which way can it -come from me into the world? I plainly perceyve, that I am none other -then a dead man, and all through the wickednesse of my Wife: heaven -plague her with as many mischiefes, as I am desirous to finde ease. -Were I now in as good health, as heeretofore I have beene, I would rise -out of my bed, and never cease beating her, untill I had broken her -in a thousand peeces. But if Fortune will be so favourable to me, as -to helpe mee out of this dangerous agony: hang me, if ever she get me -under her againe, or make me such an Asse, in having the mastery over -mee, as divers times she hath done. - -_Bruno, Buffalmaco_ and _Nello_, hearing these raving speeches of -_Calandrino_, were swolne so bigge with laughter, as if their ribbes -would have burst in sunder; neverthelesse, they abstained so well as -they were able; but Doctor _Simon_ gaped so wide with laughing as one -might easily have pluckt out all his teeth. In the end, because he -could tarry there no longer, but was preparing to depart: _Calandrino_ -thanked him for his paines, requesting that hee would be carefull of -him, in aiding him with his best advise and counsell, and he would -not be unmindfull of him. Honest neighbour _Calandrino_, answered the -Phisition, I would not have you to torment your selfe, in such an -impatient and tempestuous manner, because I perceive the time so to -hasten on, as we shall soone perceive (and that within very few dayes -space) your health well restored, and without the sense of much paine; -but indeed it will cost expences. Alas Sir, said _Calandrino_, mak not -any spare of my purse, to procure that I may have safe deliverance. -I have two hundred Florines, lately falne to me by the death of mine -Aunt, wherewith I intended to purchase a Farme in the Countrey: take -them all if need be, onely reserving some few for my lying in Childbed. -And then Master Doctor, Alas, I know not how to behave my selfe, for -I have heard the grievous complaint of women in that case, oppressed -with bitter pangs and throwes; as questionlesse they will bee my death, -except you have the greater care of me. - -Be of good cheere neighbour _Calandrino_, replyed Doctor _Simon_, -I will provide an excellent distilled drinke for you, marvellously -pleasing in taste, and of soveraigne vertue, which will resolve -all in three mornings, making you as whole and as sound as a Fish -newly spawned. But you must have an especiall care afterward, being -providently wise, least you fall into the like follies againe. -Concerning the preparation of this precious drinke, halfe a dozen -of Capons, the very fairest and fattest, I must make use of in the -distillation: what other things shall bee imployed beside, you may -deliver forty Florines to one of these your honest friends, to see all -the necessaries bought, and sent me home to my house. Concerning my -businesse, make you no doubt thereof, for I will have all distilled -against to morrow, and then doe you drinke a great Glasse full every -morning, fresh and fasting next your heart. _Calandrino_ was highly -pleased with his words, returning master Doctor infinite thankes, and -referring all to his disposing. And having given forty Florines to -_Bruno_, with other money beside, to buy the halfe dozen of Capons: -he thought himselfe greatly beholding to them all, and protested to -requite their kindenesse. - -Master Doctor being gone home to his house, made ready a bottel of -very excellent Hypocrasse, which he sent the next day according to his -promise: and _Bruno_ having bought the Capons, with other junkets, fit -for the turne, the Phisitian and his merry Companions, fed on them -hartely for the givers sake. As for _Calandrino_, he liked his dyet -drinke excellently well, quaffing a large Glassefull off three mornings -together: afterward Master Doctor and the rest came to see him, and -having felt his pulse, the Phisition said. _Calandrino_, thou art now -as sound in health, as any man in all _Florence_ can be: thou needest -not to keepe within doores any longer, but walke abroad boldly, for all -is well and the childe gone. - -_Calandrino_ arose like a joyfull man, and walked daily through the -streets, in the performance of such affaires as belonged to him: and -every acquaintance he met withall, he told the condition of his sudden -sickenesse; and what a rare cure Master Doctor _Simon_ had wrought on -him, delivering him (in three dayes space) of a childe, and without -the feeling of any paine. _Bruno, Buffalmaco,_ and _Nello,_ were not a -little jocond, for meeting so well with covetous _Calandrino_: but how -the Wife liked the folly of her Husband, I leave to the judgement of -all good Women. - - - - -Francesco Fortarigo, _played away all that he had at_ Buonconvento, -_and likewise the money of_ Francesco Aniolliero, _being his Master. -Then running after him in his shirt, and avouching that hee had robbed -him: he caused him to be taken by Pezants of the Country, clothed -himselfe in his Masters wearing garments, and (mounted on his horse) -rode thence to_ Sienna, _leaving_ Aniolliero _in his shirt, and walked -bare-footed._ - -The fourth Novell. - -_Serving as an admonition to all men, for taking Gamesters and -Drunkards into their service._ - - -The ridiculous words given by _Calandrino_ to his Wife, all the whole -company hartily laughed at: but _Philostratus_ ceassing, Madame -_Neiphila_ (as it pleased the Queene to appoint) began to speake thus. -Vertuous Ladies, if it were not more hard and uneasie for men, to make -good their understanding and vertue, then apparant publication of their -disgrace and folly; many would not labour in vaine, to curbe in their -idle speeches with a bridle, as you have manifestly observed by the -weake wit of _Calandrino_. Who needed no such fantastick circumstance, -to cure the strange disease, which he imagined (by sottish perswasions) -to have: had hee not been so lavish of his tongue, and accused his -Wife of over-mastering him. Which maketh me remember a Novell, quite -contrary to this last related, namely, how one man may strive to -surmount another in malice; yet he to sustaine the greater harme, that -had (at the first) the most advantage of his enemy, as I will presently -declare unto you. - -There dwelt in _Sienna_, and not many yeeres since, two young men -of equall age, both of them bearing the name of _Francesco_: but -the one was descended of the _Aniollieri_, and the other likewise -of the _Fortarigi_; so that they were commonly called _Aniolliero_, -and _Fortarigo_, both Gentlemen, and well derived. Now, although -in many other matters, their complexions did differ very much: Yet -notwithstanding, they varied not in one bad qualitie, namely too -great neglect of their Fathers, which caused their more frequent -conversation, as very familiar and respective friends. But _Aniolliero_ -(being a very goodly and faire conditioned young Gentleman) apparently -perceiving, that he could not maintaine himselfe at _Sienna_, in such -estate as he liked, and upon the pension allowed him by his Father, -hearing also, that at the Marquisate of _Ancona_, there lived the Popes -Legate, a worthy Cardinall, his much indeared good Lord and friend: he -intended to goe visite him, as hoping to advance his fortunes by him. - -Having acquainted his Father with this determination, he concluded -with him, to have that from him in a moment which might supply his -wants for many moneths, because he would be clothed gallantly, and -mounted honourably. And seeking for a servant necessary to attend on -him, it chanced that _Fortarigo_ hearing thereof, came presently to -_Aniolliero_, intreating him in the best manner he could, to let him -waite on him as his serving man, promising both dutifull and diligent -attendance: yet not to demaund any other wages, but onely payment of -his ordinary expences. _Aniolliero_ made him answere, that he durst -not give him entertainment, not in regard of his insufficiency, and -unaptnesse for service: but because he was a great Gamester, and divers -times would be beastly drunke? whereto _Fortarigo_ replyed that hee -would refraine from both those foule vices, and addict all his endeavour -wholly to please him, without just taxation of any grosse errour; -making such solemne vowes and protestations beside, as conquered -_Aniolliero_, and won his consent. - -Being entred upon his journey, and arriving in a morning at -_Buonconvento_, there _Aniolliero_ determined to dine, and afterward, -finding the heate to be unfit for travaile; he caused a bed to be -prepared, wherein being laid to rest by the helpe of _Fortarigo_, he -gave him charge, that after the heates violence was overpast, hee -should not faile to call and awake him. While _Aniolliero_ slept -thus in his bed, _Fortarigo_, never remembring his solemne vowes and -promises: went to the Taverne, where having drunke indifferently, and -finding company fit for the purpose, he fell to play at the dice with -them. In a very short while, he had not onely lost his money, but all -the cloathes on his backe likewise, and coveting to recover his losses -againe; naked in his shirt, he went to _Aniollieroes_ Chamber, where -finding him yet soundly sleeping, he tooke all the money he had in his -purse, and then returned backe to play, speeding in the same manner as -hee did before, not having one poore penny left him. - -_Aniolliero_ chancing to awake, arose and made him ready, without any -servant to helpe him; then calling for _Fortarigo_, and not hearing any -tydings of him: he began immediately to imagine, that he was become -drunke, and so had falne asleepe in one place or other, as very often -he was wont to doe. Wherefore, determining so to leave him, he caused -the male and Saddle to be set on his horse; & so to furnish himselfe -with a more honest servant at _Corsignano_. - -But when hee came to pay his hoste, hee found not any penny left him: -whereupon (as well he might) he grew greatly offended, and raised much -trouble in the house, charged the hoasts people to have robde him, and -threatening to have them sent as prisoners to _Sienna_. Suddenly entred -_Fortarigo_ in his shirt, with intent to have stolne _Aniollieroes_ -garments, as formerly hee did the money out of his purse, and seeing -him ready to mount on horsebacke, hee saide. - -How now _Aniolliero_? What shall we goe away so soone? I pray you Sir -tarry a little while, for an honest man is comming hither, who hath my -Doublet engaged for eight and thirty shillings; and I am sure that he -will restore it me back for five and thirty, if I could presently pay -him downe the money. - -During the speeches, an other entred among them, who assured -_Aniolliero_, that _Fortarigo_ was the Thiefe which robde him of -his money, shewing him also how much hee had lost at the Dice: -Wherewith _Aniolliero_ being much mooved, very angerly reprooved -_Fortarigo_, and, but for feare of the Law, would have offered him -outrage, thretning to have him hangd by the neck, or else condemned -to the Gallies belonging to _Florence_, and so mounted on his horse. -_Fortarigo_ making shew to the standers by, as if _Aniolliero_ menaced -some other body, and not him, said. Come _Aniolliero_, I pray thee -let us leave this frivilous prating, for (indeede) it is not worth a -Button, and minde a matter of more importance: my Doublet will bee had -againe for five and thirty shillings, if the money may bee tendered -downe at this very instant, whereas if we deferre it till to morrow, -perhaps hee will then have the whole eight and thirty which he lent -me, and he doth me this pleasure, because I am ready (at another time) -to affoord him the like courtesie; why then should we loose three -shillings, when they may so easily be saved. - -_Aniolliero_ hearing him speake in such confused manner, and perceiving -also, that they which stood gazing by, beleeved (as by their lookes -appeared) that _Fortarigo_ had not played away his Masters mony at -the Dice, but rather that he had some stocke of _Fortarigoes_ in his -custody; angerly answered; Thou sawcy companion, what have I to doe -with thy Doublet? I would thou wert hangd, not only for playing away -my money, but also by delaying thus my journey, and yet boldly thou -standest out-facing mee, as if I were no better then thy fellow. -_Fortarigo_ held on still his former behaviour, without using any -respect or reverence to _Aniolliero_, as if all the accusations did -not concerne him, but saying, Why should wee not take the advantage -of three shillings profit? Thinkest thou, that I am not able to doe -as much for thee? why, lay out so much money for my sake, and make no -more haste then needs we must, because we have day-light enough to -bring us (before night) to _Torreniero_. Come, draw thy purse, and pay -the money, for upon mine honest word, I may enquire throughout all -_Sienna_, and yet not find such another Doublet as this of mine is. To -say then, that I should leave it, where it now lyeth pawned, and for -eight and thirty shillings, when it is richly more worth then fifty, I -am sure to suffer a double endammagement thereby. - -You may well imagine, that _Aniolliero_ was now enraged beyond all -patience, to see himselfe both robde of his money, and overborne -with presumptuous language: wherefore, without making any more -replications, he gave the spurre to his horse, and rode away towards -_Torreniero_. Now fell _Fortarigo_ into a more knavish intention -against _Aniolliero_, and being very speedy in running, followed apace -after him in his shirt, crying out still aloude to him all the way, to -let him have his Doublet againe. _Aniolliero_ riding on very fast, to -free his eares from this idle importunity, it fortuned that _Fortarigo_ -espied divers countrey Pezants, labouring in the fields about their -businesse, and by whom _Aniolliero_ (of necessity) must passe: To them -he cryed out so loude as he could; Stay the Thiefe, Stop the Thiefe, he -rides away so fast, having robde me. - -They being provided, some with Prongges, Pitchforkes and Spades, and -others with the like weapons fit for Husbandry, stept into the way -before _Aniolliero_: and beleeving undoubtedly, that he had robde -the man which pursued him in his shirt, stayed and apprehended him. -Whatsoever _Aniolliero_ could doe or say, prevailed not any thing with -the unmannerly Clownes, but when _Fortarigo_ was arrived among them, he -braved _Aniolliero_ most impudently, saying. - -What reason have I to spoile thy life (thou traiterous Villaine) to -rob and spoyle thy Master thus on the high way? Then turning to the -Countrey Boores: How much deare friends (quoth he) am I beholding to -you for this unexpected kindnesse? You behold in what manner he left me -in my Lodging, having first playd away all my money at the Dice, and -then deceiving me of my horse and garments also: but had not you (by -great good lucke) thus holpe mee to stay him; a poore Gentleman had bin -undone for ever, and I should never have found him againe. - -_Aniolliero_ avouched the truth of his wrong received, but the base -peazants, giving credite onely to _Fortarigoes_ lying exclamations: -tooke him from his horse, despoyled him of all his wearing apparrell, -even to the very Bootes from off his Legges: suffered him to ride away -from him in that manner, and _Aniolliero_ left so in his shirt, to -dance a bare-foote Galliard after him, either towards _Sienna_, or any -place else. - -Thus _Aniolliero_, purposing to visite his Cousin the Cardinal like -a Gallant, and at the Marquisate of _Ancona_, returned backe poorly -in his shirt unto _Buonconvento_, and durst not (for shame) repaire -to _Sienna_. In the end, he borrowed money on the other horse which -_Fortarigo_ rode on, and remained there in the Inne, whence riding to -_Corsignano_, where he had divers Kinsmen and Friends, he continued -there so long with them, till he was better furnished from his Father. - -Thus you may perceive, that the cunning Villanies of _Fortarigo_, -hindred the honest intended enterprise of _Aniolliero_, howbeit in fit -time and place, nothing afterward was left unpunished. - - - - -Calandrino _became extraordinarily enamoured of a young Damosell, -named_ Nicholetta. Bruno _prepared a Charme or writing for him, -avouching constantly to him, that so soone as he touched the Damosell -therewith, she should follow him whithersoever hee would have her. She -being gone to an appointed place with him, hee was found there by his -wife, and dealt withall according to his deserving._ - -The fift Novell. - -_In just reprehension of those vaine-headed fooles, that are led and -governed by idle perswasions._ - - -Because the Novell reported by Madame _Neiphila_ was so soone -concluded, without much laughter, or commendation of the whole Company: -the Queene turned hir selfe towards Madam _Fiammetta_, enjoyning her to -succeed in apt order; & she being as ready as sodainly commanded, began -as followeth. Most gentle Ladies, I am perswaded of your opinion in -judgement with mine, that there is not any thing, which can bee spoken -pleasingly, except it be conveniently suited with apt time and place: -in which respect, when Ladies and Gentlewomen are bent to discoursing, -the due election of them both are necessarily required. And therefore I -am not unmindfull, that our meeting heere (ayming at nothing more, then -to out-weare the time with our generall contentment) should tye us to -the course of our pleasure and recreation, to the same conveniency of -time and place, not sparing, though some have bin nominated oftentimes -in our passed arguments; yet, if occasion serve, and the nature of -variety be well considered, wee may speake of the selfsame persons -againe. - -Now, notwithstanding the actions of _Calandrino_ have been -indifferently canvazed among us; yet, remembring what _Philostratus_ -not long since saide, That they intended to nothing more then matter of -mirth: I presume the boldlier, to report another Novell of him, beside -them already past. And, were I willing to conceale the truth, and -cloath it in more circumstantiall manner: I could make use of contrary -names, and paint it in a poeticall fiction, perhaps more probable, -though not so pleasing. But because wandring from the truth of things, -doth much diminish (in relation) the delight of the hearers: I will -build boldly on my fore-alledged reason, and tel you truly how it -hapned. - -_Niccholao Cornocchini_ was once a Citizen of ours, and a man of great -wealth; who, among other his rich possessions in _Camerata_, builded -there a very goodly house, which being perfected ready for painting: -he compounded with _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_, who because** their worke -required more helpe then their owne, they drew _Nello_ and _Calandrino_ -into their association, and began to proceed in their businesse. And -because there was a Chamber or two, having olde moveables in them, as -Bedding, Tables, and other Houshold stuffe beside, which were in the -custody of an old Woman that kepte the house, without the helpe of any -other servants else, a Son unto the saide _Niccholao_, beeing named -_Phillippo_, resorted thither divers times, with one or other prety -Damosell in his company (in regard he was unmarried) where he would -abide a day or two with her, & then convey her home againe. - -At one time among the rest, it chanced that he brought a Damosell -thither named _Nicholetta_, who was maintained by a wily companion, -called _Magione_, in a dwelling which hee had at _Camaldoli_, and -(indeed) no honester then she should be. She was a very beautifull -young woman, wearing garments of great value, and (according to her -quality) well spoken, and of commendable carriage. Comming forth of -her Chamber one day, covered with a White veyle, because her haire -hung loose about her, which shee went to wash at a Well in the middle -Court, bathing there also her face and hands: _Calandrino_ going (by -chance) to the same Well for water, gave her a secret salutation. -She kindly returning the like courtesie to him, began to observe him -advisedly: more, because he looked like a man newly come thither, then -any handsomnesse she perceyved in him. - -_Calandrino_ threw wanton glances at her, and seeing she was both -faire and lovely, began to finde some occasion of tarrying, so that -he returned not with water to his other associates, yet neither -knowing her, or daring to deliver one word. She, who was not to -learn her lesson in alluring, noting what affectionate regards (with -bashfulnesse) he gave her: answered him more boldly with the like; but -meerly in scorning manner, breathing forth divers dissembled sighs -among them: so that _Calandrino_ became foolishly inveigled with her -love, and would not depart out of the Court, untill _Phillippo_, -standing above in his Chamber window called her thence. - -When _Calandrino_ was returned backe to his businesse, he could do -nothing else, but shake the head, sigh, puffe, and blowe, which being -observed by _Bruno_ (who alwayes fitted him according to his folly, as -making a meer mockery of his very best behaviour) sodainly he said. Why -how now _Calandrino_? Sigh, puff, and blow man? What may be the reason -of these unwonted qualities? _Calandrino_ immediately answered, saying: -My friendly Companion _Bruno_, if I had one to lend me a little helpe, -I should very quickely become well enough. How? quoth _Bruno_, doth -any thing offend thee, and wilt thou not reveale it to thy friends? -Deare _Bruno_, said _Calandrino_, there is a proper handsome woman here -in the house, the goodliest creature that every any eye beheld, much -fairer then the Queen of Fairies her selfe, who is so deeply falne in -love with mee, as thou wouldst thinke it no lesse then a wonder; and -yet I never sawe her before, till yet while when I was sent to fetch -water. A very strange case, answered _Bruno_, take heede _Calandrino_, -that shee bee not the lovely friend to _Phillippo_, our yong Master, -for then it may prove a dangerous matter. - -_Calandrino_ stood scratching his head an indifferent while, and then -sodainly replyed thus. Now trust me _Bruno_, it is to bee doubted, -because he called her at his Window, and she immediatly went up to his -Chamber. But what doe I care if it be so? Have not the Gods themselves -bene beguiled of their Wenches, who were better men then ever -_Phillippo_ can be, and shall I stand in feare of him? _Bruno_ replied: -Be patient _Calandrino_, I will enquire what Woman she is, and if she -be not the wife or friend to our young master _Phillippo_, with faire -perswasions I can over-rule the matter, because shee is a familiar -acquaintance of mine. But how shall wee doe, that _Buffalmaco_ may not -know heereof? I can never speake to her, if hee be in my company. For -_Buffalmaco_ (quoth _Calandrino_) I have no feare of all, but rather -of _Nello_, because he is a neer Kinsman to my wife, and he is able to -undo me quite, if once it should come to his hearing. Thou saist well, -replyed _Bruno_, therefore the matter hath neede to be very cleanly -carried. - -Now let me tell you, the Woman was well enough knowne to _Bruno_, as -also her quality of life, which _Phillippo_ had acquainted him withall, -and the reason of her resorting thither. Wherefore, _Calandrino_ going -forth of the roome where they wrought, onely to gaine another sight -of _Nicholetta, Bruno_ revealed the whole history to _Buffalmaco_ and -_Nello_; they all concluding together, how this amorous fit of the -foole was to be followed. And when _Calandrino_ was returned backe -againe; in whispering manner _Bruno_ said to him. Hast thou once more -seene her? Yes, yes _Bruno_, answered _Calandrino_: Alas, she hath -slaine me with her very eye, and I am no better then a dead man. Be -patient said _Bruno_, I will goe and see whether she be the same woman -which I take her for, or no: and if it prove so, then never feare, but -refer the businesse unto me. - -_Bruno_ descending downe the staires, found _Phillippo_ and -_Nicholetta_ in conference together, and stepping unto them, discoursed -at large, what manner of man _Calandrino_ was, and how farre he was -falne in love with her: so that they made a merry conclusion, what -should be performed in this case, onely to make a pastime of his hot -begun love. And being come backe againe to _Calandrino_, he saide. It -is the same woman whereof I told thee, and therefore wee must worke -wisely in the businesse: for if _Phillippo_ perceive any thing, all the -water in _Arno_ will hardly serve to quench his fury. But what wouldst -thou have me say to her on thy behalfe, if I compasse the meanes to -speake with her? First of all (quoth _Calandrino_) and in the prime -place, tell her, that I wish infinite bushels of those blessings, which -makes Maides Mothers, and begetteth children. Next, that I am onely -hers, in any service she will command me. Dooest thou understand me what -I say? Sufficiently answered _Bruno_, leave all to me. - -When supper time was come, that they gave over working, and were -descended downe into the Court: there they found _Phillippo_ and -_Nicholetta_ readily attending to expect some beginning of amorous -behaviour, and _Calandrino_ glanced such leering lookes at her, -coughing and spetting with hummes and haes, yea in such close and -secret manner, that a starke blinde sight might verie easily have -perceyved it. - -She also on the other side, returned him such queint and cunning -carriage, as enflamed him farre more furiously, even as if hee were -ready to leape out of himselfe. In the meane while, _Phillippo, -Buffalmaco_ and the rest that were there present, seeming as if they -were seriouslie consulting together, and perceived nothing of his -fantastick behavior, according as _Bruno_ had appointed, could scarse -refraine from extremity of laughter, they noted such antick trickes in -_Calandrino_. - -Having spent an indifferent space in this foppish folly, the houre of -parting came, but not without wonderfull affliction to _Calandrino_; -and as they were going towards _Florence, Bruno_ saide closely to -_Calandrino_. I dare assure thee, that thou hast made her to consume -and melt, even like ice against the warme Sunne. On my word, if thou -wouldst bring thy Gitterne, and sit downe by us, singing some few -amorous songs of thine owne making, when we are beneath about our -businesse in the Court: shee would presently leape out of the Window, -as being unable to tarry from thee. - -I like thy counsell well _Bruno_, answered _Calandrino_; but shall I -bring my Gitterne thither indeed? Yes, in any case, replied _Bruno_, -for Musicke is a matter of mighty prevailing. Ah _Bruno_ (quoth -_Calandrino_) thou wouldst not credit me in the morning, when I tolde -thee, how the very sight of my person had wounded her: I perceived it -at the very first looke of her owne, for shee had no power to conceale -it. Who but my selfe could so soone have enflamed her affection, and -being a woman of such worth and beauty as shee is? There are infinite -proper handsome fellowes, that daily haunt the company of dainty -Damosels, yet are so shallow in the affayres of love, as they are not -able to win one wench of a thousand, no, not with all the wit they -have, such is their extreame follie and ill fortune. - -Then pausing a while, and sodainely rapping out a Lovers Oath or -two, thus he proceeded. My dearest _Bruno_, thou shalt see how I can -tickle my Gitterne, and what good sport will ensue thereon. If thou -dost observe me with judgement, why man, I am not so old as I seeme -to be, and she could perceive it at the very first view; yea, and she -shall finde it so too, when we have leysure to consult upon further -occasions: I finde my selfe in such a free and frolicke jocunditie of -spirit, that I will make her to follow me, even as a fond woman doth -after her child. - -But beware, saide _Bruno_, that thou do not gripe her over-hard, and in -kissing, bee carefull of biting, because the teeth stand in thy head -like the pegges of a Lute, yet make a comely shew in thy faire wide -mouth, thy cheekes looking like two of our artificiall Roses, swelling -amiably, when thy jawes are well fild with meat. _Calandrino_ hearing -these hansome commendations, thought himselfe a man of action already, -going, singing, and frisking before his companie so lively, as if he -had not bin in his skin. - -On the morrow, carrying his Gitterne thither with him, to the no -little delight of his companions, hee both played and sung a whole -Bed-role of Songs, not addicting himselfe to any worke all the day: but -loitering fantastically, one while he gazed out at the window, then -ran to the gate, and oftentimes downe into the Court, onely to have -a sight of his Mistresse. She also (as cunningly) encountred all his -follies, by such directions as _Bruno_ gave her, and many more beside -of her owne devising, to quicken him still with new occasions; _Bruno_ -plaid the Ambassador betweene them, in delivering the messages from -_Calandrino_, and then returning her answers to him. Sometimes when she -was absent thence (which often hapned as occasions called her) then he -would write letters in her name, & bring them, as if they were sent by -her, to give him hope of what hee desired, but because she was then -among her kindred, yet she could not be unmindfull of him. - -In this manner, _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_ (who had the managing of this -amorous businesse) made a meere Gregory of poore _Calandrino_, causing -him somtimes to send her, one while a pretty peece of Ivory, then a -faire wrought purse, and a costly paire of knives, with other such like -friendly tokens: bringing him backe againe, as in requitall of them, -counterfetted Rings of no valew, Bugles and bables, which he esteemed -as matters of great moment. Moreover, at divers close and sodain -meetings, they made him pay for many dinners & suppers, amounting to -indifferent charges, onely to be carefull** in the furtherance of his -love-suit, and to conceale it from his wife. - -Having worne out three or foure months space in this fond and frivolous -manner, without any other successe then as hath bene declared; and -_Calandrino_ perceiving, that the works undertaken by him and his -fellowes, grew very neere uppon the finishing, which would barre him -of any longer resorting thither: hee began to solicite _Bruno_ more -importunately, then all the while before he hadde done. In regard -whereof, _Nicholetta_ being one day come thither, & _Bruno_ having -conferred both with her and _Phillippo_, with full determination what -was to be done, he began with _Calandrino_, saying. My honest Neighbour -and Friend, this Woman hath made a thousand promises, to graunt what -thou art so desirous to have, and I plainly perceive that she hath -no such meaning, but meerely plaies with both our noses. In which -respect, seeing she is so perfidious, and will not perfourme one of all -her faithfull-made promises: if thou wilt content to have it so, she -shall be compelled to do it whether she will or no. Yea marry _Bruno_, -answered _Calandrino_, that were an excellent course indeede, if it -could be done, and with expedition. - -_Bruno_ stood musing awhile to himselfe, as if he had some strange -stratagem in his braine, & afterward said. Hast thou so much corage -_Calandrino_, as but to handle a peece of written parchment, which I -will give thee? Yes, that I have answered _Calandrino_, I hope that -needed not to be doubted. Well then, saide _Bruno_, procure that I -may have a piece of Virgin Parchment brought mee, with a living Bat -or Reremouse; three graines of Incense, and an hallowed Candle, then -leave me to effect what shall content thee. _Calandrino_ watched all the -next night following, with such preparation as he could make, onely -to catch a Bat; which being taken at the last, he broght it alive to -_Bruno_ (with all the other materials appointed) who taking him alone -into a backer Chamber, there hee wrote divers follies on the Parchment, -in the shape of strange and unusuall Charracters, which he delivered -to _Calandrino_, saying: Be bold _Calandrino_, and build constantly -uppon my wordes, that if thou canst but touch her with this sacred -Charractred charme, she will immediately follow thee, and fulfil -whatsoever thou pleasest to command hir. Wherefore, if _Phillippo_ do -this day walke any whither abroad from this house, presume to salute -her, in any manner whatsoever it be, & touching her with the written -lines, go presently to the barn of hay, which thou perceivest so neere -adjoyning, the onely convenient place that can be, because few or none -resort thither. She shall (in despight of her blood) follow thee; and -when thou hast her there, I leave thee then to thy valiant victory. -_Calandrino_ stood on tiptoe, like a man newly molded by Fortune, and -warranted _Bruno_ to fulfil all effectually. - -_Nello_, whom _Calandrino_ most of all feared and mistrusted, had a -hand as deepe as any of the rest in this deceite, and was as forward -also to have it performed, by _Brunoes_ direction, hee went unto -_Florence_, where being in company with _Calandrinoes_ Wife, thus hee -began. - -Cousine, thine unkinde usage by thine husband, is not unknown to me, -how he did beate thee (beyond the compasse of all reason) when he -brought home stones from the plain of _Mugnone_; in which regard, I -am very desirous to have thee revenged on him: which if thou wilt not -do; never repute me heereafter for thy Kinsman and Friend. He is falne -in love with a Woman of the common gender, one that is to be hired -for money: he hath his private meetings with her, and the place is -partly knowne to me, as by a secret appointment (made very lately) I am -credibly given to understand; wherefore walke presently along with me, -and thou shalt take him in the heat of his knavery. - -All the while as these words were uttering to her, shee could not -dissemble her inward impatience, but starting up as halfe franticke -with fury, she said. O notorious villaine! Darest thou abuse thine -honest wife so basely? I sweare by blessed Saint _Bridget_, thou shalt -be paid with coyne of thine owne stampe. So casting a light wearing -Cloake about her, and taking a yong woman in her company; shee went -away with _Nello_ in no meane haste. _Bruno_ seeing her comming a farre -off, said to _Phillippo_: You Sir, you know what is to be done, act -your part according to your appointment. _Phillippo_ went immediately -into the roome, where _Calandrino_ and his other Consorts were at -worke, and said to them. Honest friends, I have certaine occasions -which command mine instant being at _Florence_: worke hard while I am -absent, and I will not be unthankefull for it. Away hee departed from -them, and hid himselfe in a convenient place, where he could not be -descryed, yet see whatsoever _Calandrino_ did: who when he imagined -_Phillippo_ to be farre enough off, descended downe into the Court, -where he found _Nicholetta_ sitting alone, and going towards her, began -to enter into discoursing with her. - -She knowing what remained to bee done on her behalfe, drew somewhat -neere him, and shewed her selfe more familiar then formerly she had -done: by which favourable meanes, he touched her with the charmed -Parchment, which was no sooner done; but without using any other kinde -of language, hee went to the hay-Barne, whither _Nicholetta_ followed -him, and both being entred, he closed the Barne doore, and then stood -gazing on her, as if hee had never seene her before. Standing still as -in a study, or bethinking himselfe what he should say: she began to -use affable gesture to him, and taking him by the hand, made shew as -if shee meant to kisse him, which yet she refrained, though he (rather -then his life) would gladly have had it. Why how now deare _Calandrino_ -(quoth she) jewell of my joy, comfort of my heart, how many times have -I longed for thy sweet Company? And enjoying it now, according to mine -owne desire, dost thou stand like a Statue, or man _alla morte_? The -rare tunes of the Gitterne, but (much more) the melodious accents of -thy voyce, excelling _Orpheus_ or _Amphion_, so ravished my soule, as I -know not how to expresse the depth of mine affection; and yet hast thou -brought me hither, onely to looke babies in mine eyes, and not so much -as speake one kinde word to me? - -_Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_, having hid themselves close behinde -_Phillippo_, they both heard and saw all this amourous conflict, and -as _Calandrino_ was quickning his courage, and wiping his mouth, with -intent to kisse her: his wife and _Nello_ entred into the Barne, which -caused _Nicholetta_ to get her gone presently, sheltring her self where -_Phillippo_ lay scouting. But the enraged woman ranne furiously upon -poore daunted _Calandrino_, making such a pitiful massacre with her -nailes, and tearing the haire from his head, as hee meerely looked -like an infected Anatomy. Fowle loathsome dog (quoth she) must you be -at your minions, and leave mee hunger-starved at home? An olde knave -with (almost) never a good tooth in thy head, and yet art thou neighing -after young wenches? hast thou not worke enough at home, but must bee -gadding in to other mens grounds? Are these the fruites of wandring -abroad? - -_Calandrino_ being in this pittifull perplexity, stood like one neither -alive nor dead, nor daring to use any resistance against her; but fell -on his knees before his Wife, holding up his hands for mercy, and -entreating her (for charities sake) not to torment him any more: for -he had committed no harme at all, and the Gentlewoman was his Masters -Wife, who came with no such intent thither, as shee fondly imagined. -Wife, or wife not (quoth she) I would have none to meddle with my -Husband, but I that have the most right to him. - -_Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_, who had laughed all this while heartily at -this pastime, with _Phillippo_ and _Nicholetta_; came running in haste -to know the reason of this loude noise, and after they had pacified -the woman with gentle perswasions: they advised _Calandrino_ to walke -with his Wife to _Florence_, and returne no more to worke there againe, -least _Phillippo_ hearing what had hapned, should be revenged on him -with some outrage. Thus poore _Calandrino_ miserably misused and -beaten, went home to _Florence_ with his Wife, scoulded and raild at -all the way, beside his other molestations** (day and night) afterward: -his Companions, _Phillippo_ and _Nicholetta_, making themselves merry -at his mis-fortune. - - - - -_Two yong Gentlemen, the one named_ Panuccio, _and the other_ Adriano, -_lodged one night in a poore Inne, where one of them went to bed to the -Hostes Daughter, and the other (by mistaking his way in the darke) to -the Hostes wife. He which lay with the daughter, happened afterward to -the Hostes bed, and told him what he had done, as thinking he spake to -his owne companyon. Discontentment growing betweene them, the Mother -perceiving her errour, went to bed to her daughter, and with discreete -language, made a generall pacification._ - -The Sixt Novell. - -_Wherein is manifested, that an offence committed ignorantly, and by -mistaking; ought to be covered with good advise, and civill discretion._ - - -_Calandrino_, whose mishaps had so many times made the whole assembly -merry, and this last passing among them with indifferent commendations: -upon a generall silence commanded, the Queene gave order to -_Pamphilus_, that hee should follow next, as indeed he did, beginning -thus. Praise-worthy Ladies, the name of _Nicholetta_, so fondly affected -by _Calandrino_, putteth mee in minde of a Novell, concerning another -_Nicholetta_, of whom I purpose to speake: to the ende you may observe -how by a sudden wary fore-sight, a discreet woman compassed the meanes -to avoyde a notorious scandall. - -On the plaine of _Mugnone_, neere to _Florence_, dwelt (not long since) -an honest meane man, who kept a poore Inne or Ostery for travellers, -where they might have some slender entertainement for their money. As -he was but a poore man, so his house affoorded but very small receit -of guests, not lodging any but on necessity, and such as he had some -knowledge of. This honest poore hoste had a woman (sufficiently faire) -to his wife, by whom hee had also two children, the one a comely young -maiden, aged about fifteene yeares, and the other a sonne, not fully -(as yet) a yeare old, and sucking on the mothers brest. - -A comely youthfull Gentleman of our City, became amorously affected to -the Damosell, resorting thither divers times as hee travelled on the -way, to expresse how much he did respect her. And she accounting her -fortune none of the meanest, to bee beloved by so youthfull a Gallant, -declared such vertuous and modest demeanour, as might deserve his best -opinion of her: so that their love grew to an equall simpathy, and -mutuall contentment of them both, in expectation of further effects; he -being named _Panuccio_, and she _Nicholetta_. - -The heate of affection thus encreasing day by day, _Panuccio_ grew -exceedingly desirous to enjoy the fruits of his long continued liking, -and divers devises mustred in his braine, how he might compasse one -nights lodging in her fathers house, whereof hee knew every part and -parcell, as not doubting to effect what hee desired, yet undiscovered -by any, but the maide her selfe. - -According as his intention aymed, so he longed to put it in execution, -and having imparted his mind to an honest loyall friend, named -_Adriano_, who was acquainted with the course of his love: hyring -two horses, and having Portmantues behind them, filled with matters -of no moment, they departed from _Florence_, as if they had some -great journey to ride. Having spent the day time where themselves -best pleased, darke night being entred, they arrived on the plaine of -_Mugnone_, where, as if they were come from the parts of _Romanio_, -they rode directly to this poore Inne, and knocking at the doore, the -honest Hoste (being familiar and friendly to all commers) opened the -doore, when _Panuccio_ spake in this manner to him. Good man, we must -request one nights lodging with you, for we thought to have reached -so farre as _Florence_, but dark night preventing us, you see at what -a late houre wee are come hither. Signior _Panuccio_, answered the -hoste, it is not unknowne to you, how unfitting my poore house is, for -entertaining such guests as you are: Neverthelesse, seeing you are -overtaken by so unseasonable an houre, and no other place is neere for -your receite; I will gladly lodge you so well as I can. - -When they were dismounted from their horses, and entred into the simple -Inne: having taken order for feeding their horses, they accepted such -provision, as the place and time afforded, requesting the Hoste to -suppe with them. Now I am to tell you, that there was but one small -Chamber in the house, wherein stood three beds, as best the Hoste had -devised to place them, two of them standing by the walles side, and -the third fronting them both, but with such close and narrow passage, -as very hardly could one step betweene them. The best of these three -beds was appointed for the Gentlemen, and therein theyd lay them down -to rest, but sleepe they could not, albeit they dissembled it very -formally. In the second Bed was _Nicholetta_ the daughter, lodged by -her selfe, and the father and mother in the third, and because she was -to give the child sucke in the night time, the Cradle (wherein it lay) -stood close by their beds side, because the childes crying or any other -occasion concerning it, should not disquiet the Gentlemen. - -_Panuccio_ having subtily observed all this, and in what manner they -went to bed; after such a space of time, as he imagined them to be -all fast asleepe, he arose very softly, and stealing to the bed of -_Nicholetta_, lay downe gently by her. And albeit she seemed somewhat -afraid at the first, yet when she perceived who it was, shee rather -bad him welcome, then shewed her selfe any way discontented. Now while -_Panuccio_ continued thus with the maide, it fortuned that a Cat threw -down somewhat in the house, the noise whereof awaked the wife, and -fearing greater harme, then (indeed) had hapned, she arose without a -Candle, and went groping in the darke, towards the place where shee -heard the noyse. _Adriano_, who had no other meaning but well, found -occasion also to rise, about some naturall necessity, and making his -passage in the darke, stumbled on the childes Cradle (in the way) where -the woman had set it, and being unable to passe by, without removing -it from the place: tooke and set it by his owne beds side, and having -done the businesse for which he rose, returned to his bed againe, never -remembring to set the Cradle where first he found it. - -The Wife having found the thing throwne downe being of no value or -moment, cared not for lighting any candle; but rating the Cat, returned -backe, feeling for the bed where her Husband lay, but finding not the -Cradle there, she said to her selfe. What a foolish woman am I, that -cannot well tell my selfe what I doe? Instead of my Husbands bed, I am -going to both my guests. - -So, stepping on a little further, she found the childes Cradle, and -laid her selfe downe by _Adriano_, thinking shee had gone right to her -Husband. _Adriano_ being not yet falne asleepe, feeling the hostesse -in bed with him: tooke advantage of so faire an occasion offered, and -what he did, is no businesse of mine, (as I heard) neither found the -woman any fault. Matters comming to passe in this strange manner, and -_Panuccio_ fearing, lest sleepe seazing on him, he might disgrace the -maides reputation: taking his kinde farewell of her, with many kisses -and sweet imbraces: returned againe to his owne Bed, but meeting with -the Cradle in his way, and thinking it stood by the hostes Bed, (as -truely it did so at the first) went backe from the Cradle, and stept -into the hostes Bed indeed, who awaked upon his very entrance, albeit -he slept very soundly before. - -_Panuccio_ supposing that he was laid downe by his loving friend -_Adriano_, merrily said to the Hoste. I protest to thee, as I am a -Gentleman, _Nicholetta_ is a dainty delicate wench, and worthy to be -a very good mans wife: this night shee hath given mee the sweetest -entertainement, as the best Prince in the world can wish no better, -and I have kist her most kindly for it. The Hoste hearing these newes, -which seemed very unwelcome to him, said first to himself: What make -such a devill heere in my Bedde? Afterward being more rashly angry, -then well advised, hee said to _Panuccio_. Canst thou makes vaunt of -such a mounstrous villany? Or thinkest thou, that heaven hath not due -vengeance in store, to requite all wicked deeds of darkenesse? If all -should sleepe, yet I have courage sufficient to right my wrong, and yet -as olde as I am thou shalt be sure to finde it. - -Our amorous _Panuccio_ being none of the wisest young men in the world, -perceiving his errour; sought not to amend it, (as well he might have -done) with some queint straine of wit, carried in quicke and cleanly -manner, but angerly answered. What shall I find that thou darst doe to -me? am I any way afraid of thy threatnings? The Hostes imagining she -was in bed with her Husband, said to _Adriano_: Harke Husband, I thinke -our Guests are quarrelling together, I hope they will doe no harme to -one another. _Adriano_ laughing outright, answered. Let them alone, and -become friends againe as they fell out: perhaps they dranke too much -yesternight. - -The woman perceiving that it was her husband that quarrelled, and -distinguishing the voyce of _Adriano_ from his: knew presently where -shee was, and with whom; wherefore having wit at will, and desirous -to cloude an error unadvisedly committed, and with no willing consent -of her selfe: without returning any more words, presently she rose, -and taking the Cradle with the child in it, removed it thence to her -daughters bed side, although shee had no light to helpe her, and -afterward went to bed to her, where (as if she were but newly awaked) -she called her Husband, to understand what angry speeches had past -betweene him and _Panuccio_. The Hoste replyed, saying. Didst thou not -heare him wife, brag & boast, how he hath lyen this night with our -daughter _Nicholetta_? Husband (quoth she) he is no honest Gentleman; -if hee should say so, and beleeve me it is a manifest lye, for I am in -bed with her my selfe, and never yet closed mine eyes together, since -the first houre I laid me downe: it is unmannerly done of him to speake -it, and you are little lesse then a logger-head, if you doe beleeve -it. This proceedeth from your bibbing and swilling yesternight, which -(as it seemeth) maketh you to walke about the roome in your sleepe, -dreaming of wonders in the night season: it were no great sinne if you -brake your necks, to teach you keepe a fairer quarter; and how commeth -it to passe, that Signior _Panuccio_ could not keepe himselfe in his -owne bed? - -_Adriano_ (on the other side) perceiving how wisely the woman excused -her owne shame and her daughters; to backe her in a businesse so -cunningly begun, he called to _Panuccio_, saying. Have not I tolde -thee an hundred times, that thou art not fit to lye any where; out of -thine owne lodging? What a shame is this base imperfection to thee, by -rising and walking thus in the night-time, according as thy dreames -doe wantonly delude thee, and cause thee to forsake thy bed, telling -nothing but lies and fables, yet avouching them for manifest truthes? -Assuredly this will procure no meane perill unto thee: Come hither, and -keepe in thine owne bedde for meere shame. - -When the honest meaning Host heard, what his own Wife and _Adriano_ had -confirmed: he was verily perswaded, that _Panuccio_ spake in a dreame -all this while: And to make it the more constantly apparant, _Panuccio_ -(being now growne wiser by others example) lay talking and blundring -to himselfe, even as if dreames or perturbations of the minde did much -molest him, with strange distractions in franticke manner. Which the -Hoste perceiving, and compassionating his case, as one man should do -anothers: he tooke him by the shoulders, jogging and hunching him, -saying. Awake Signior _Panuccio_, and get you gone hence to your owne -bed. - -_Panuccio_, yawning and stretching out his limbes, with unusuall -groanes and respirations, such as (better) could bee hardly dissembled: -seemed to wake as out of a traunce, and calling his friend _Adriano_, -said. - -_Adriano_, is it day, that thou dost waken me? It may be day or night -replyed _Adriano_, for both (in these fits) are alike to thee. Arise -man for shame, and come to thine lodging. Then faining to be much -troubled and sleepie, he arose from the hoast, and went to _Adrianoes_ -bed. - -When it was day, and all in the house risen, the hoast began to smile -at _Panuccio_, mocking him with his idle dreaming and talking in the -night. - -So, falling from one merry matter to another, yet without any mislike -at all: the Gentlemen, having their horses prepared, and their -Portmantues fastened behind, drinking to their hoast, mounted on -horsebacke, and they roade away towards _Florence_, no lesse contented -with the manner of occasions happened, then the effects they sorted -to. Afterward, other courses were taken, for the continuance of this -begun pleasure with _Nicholetta_, who made her mother beleeve, that -_Panuccio_ did nothing else but dreame. And the mother her selfe -remembring how kindely _Adriano_ had used her (a fortune not expected -by her before:) was more then halfe of the minde, that she did then -dreame also, while she was waking. - - - - -Talano de Molese _dreamed, That a Wolfe rent and tore his wives face -and throate. Which dreame he told to her, with advise to keep her selfe -out of danger; which she refusing to doe, received what followed._ - -The Seventh Novell. - -_Whereby (with some indifferent reason) it is concluded, that Dreames -do not alwayes fall out to be leasings._ - - -By the conclusion of _Pamphilus_ his Novel, wherein the womans ready -wit, at a time of such necessity, carried deserved commendations: the -Queen gave command to Madam _Pampinea_, that she should next begin with -hers, and so she did, in this manner. In some discourses (gracious -Ladies) already past among us, the truth of apparitions in dreames -hath partly bin approved, whereof very many have made a mockery. -Neverthelesse, whatsoever hath heeretofore bin sayde, I purpose to -acquaint you with a very short Novell, of a strange accident happening -unto a neighbour of mine, in not crediting a Dreame which her Husband -told her. - -I cannot tell, whether you knew _Talano de Molese_, or no, a man of -much honour, who tooke to wife a yong Gentlewoman, named _Margarita_, -as beautifull as the best: but yet so peevish, scornefull, and -fantasticall, that she disdained any good advice given her; neyther -could any thing be done, to cause her contentment; which absurd humours -were highly displeasing to her husband: but in regard he knew not how -to helpe it, constrainedly he did endure it. It came to passe, that -_Talano_ being with his wife, at a summer-house of his owne in the -country, he dreamed one night, that he saw his Wife walking in a faire -wood, which adjoyned neere unto his house, and while she thus continued -there, he seemed to see issue foorth from a corner of the said Wood, a -great and furious Wolfe, which leaping sodainly on her, caught her by -the face and throate, drawing her downe to the earth, and offering to -drag her thence. But he crying out for helpe, recovered her from the -Wolfe, yet having her face and throat very pitifully rent and torne. - -In regard of this terrifying dreame, when _Talano_ was risen in the -morning, and sate conversing with his wife, he spake thus unto hir. -Woman, although thy froward wilfull Nature be such, as hath not -permitted me one pleasing day with thee, since first we becam man and -wife, but rather my life hath bene most tedious to me, as fearing still -some mischeefe should happen to thee: yet let mee now in loving manner -advise thee, to follow my counsell, and (this day) not to walke abroad -out of this house. She demanded a reason for this advice of his. He -related to her every particular of his dreame, adding with all these -speeches. - -True it is Wife (quoth he) that little credit should bee given to -dreames: neverthelesse, when they deliver advertisement of harmes -to ensue, there is nothing lost by shunning and avoiding them. She -fleering in his face, and shaking her head at him, replyed. Such harmes -as thou wishest, such thou dreamest of. Thou pretendest much pittie -and care of me, but all to no other end: but what mischeefes thou -dreamest happening unto mee, so wouldest thou see them effected on me. -Wherefore, I will well enough looke to my selfe, both this day, and at -all times else: because thou shalt never make thy selfe merry, with any -such misfortune as thou wishest unto me. - -Well Wife, answered _Talano_, I knew well enough before, what thou -wouldst say: An unsound head is soone scratcht with the very gentlest -Combe: but beleeve as thou pleasest. As for my selfe, I speake with a -true and honest meaning soule, and once againe I do advise thee, to -keepe within our doores all this day: at least wife beware, that thou -walke not into our wood, bee it but in regard of my dreame. Well sir -(quoth she scoffingly) once you shall say, I followed your counsell: -but within her selfe she fell to this murmuring. Now I perceive my -husbands cunning colouring, & why I must not walke this day into our -wood: he hath made a compact with some common Queane, closely to have -her company there, and is afraide least I shold take them tardy. Belike -he would have me feed among blinde folke, and I were worthy to bee -thought a starke foole, if I should not prevent a manifest trechery, -being intended against me. Go thither therefore I will, and tarry there -all the whole day long; but I will meet with him in his merchandize, -and see the Pink wherein he adventures. - -After this her secret consultation, her husband was no sooner gone -forth at one doore, but shee did the like at another, yet so secretly -as possibly she could devise to doe, and (without any delaying) she -went to the Wood, wherein she hid her selfe very closely, among the -thickest of the bushes, yet could discerne every way about her, if -any body should offer to passe by her. While shee kept her selfe in -this concealment, suspecting other mysterious matters, as her idle -imagination had tutord her, rather then the danger of any Wolfe; out of -a brakie thicket by her, sodainly rushed a huge & dreadfull Wolfe, as -having found her by the sent, mounting uppe, and grasping her throat in -his mouth, before she saw him, or could call to heaven for mercy. - -Being thus seised of her, he carried her as lightly away, as if shee -had bin no heavier then a Lambe, she being (by no meanes) able to cry, -because he held her so fast by the throate, and hindred any helping -of her selfe. As the Wolfe carried her thus from thence, he had quite -strangled her, if certaine Shepheards had not met him, who with their -outcries and exclaimes at the Wolfe, caused him to let her fall, and -hast away to save his owne life. Notwithstanding the harme done to her -throat and face, the shepheards knew her, and caried her home to her -house, where she remained a long while after, carefully attended by -Physitians and Chirurgians. - -Now, although they were very expert and cunning men all, yet could -they not so perfectly cure her, but both her throate, and part of -her face were so blemished, that whereas she seemed a rare creature -before, she was now deformed and much unsightly. In regard of which -strange alteration, being ashamed to shew her selfe in any place, where -formerly she had bene seene: she spent her time in sorrow and mourning, -repenting her insolent and scornfull carriage, as also her rash running -forth into danger, upon a foolish and jealous surmise, beleeving her -husbands dreames the better for ever after. - - - - -Blondello _(in a merry manner) caused_ Guiotto _to beguile himselfe of a -good dinner: for which deceit,_ Guiotto _became cunningly revenged, by -procuring_ Blondello _to be unreasonably beaten and misused._ - -The Eight Novell. - -_Whereby plainly appeareth, that they which take delight in deceiving -others, do well deserve to be deceived themselves._ - - -It was a generall opinion in the whole Joviall Companie, that -whatsoever _Talano_ saw in his sleepe, was not anie dreame, but rather -a vision: considring, every part thereof fell out so directly, without -the lest failing. But when silence was enjoyned, then the Queene gave -forth by evident demonstration, that Madam _Lauretta_ was next to -succeed, whereupon she thus began. As all they (judicious hearers) -which have this day spoken before me, derived the ground or project -of their Novels, from some other argument spoken of before: even so, -the cruell revendge of the Scholler, yesterday discoursed at large by -Madame _Pampinea_, maketh me to remember another Tale of like nature, -some-what greevous to the sufferer, yet not in such cruell measure -inflicted, as that on Madam _Helena_. - -There dwelt sometime in _Florence_, one who was generally called -by the name of _Guiotto_, a man being the greatest Gourmand, and -grossest feeder, as ever was seene in any Countrey, all his meanes & -procurements meerly unable to maintaine expences for filling his belly. -But otherwise he was of sufficient and commendable carriage, fairely -demeaned, and well discoursing on any argument: yet, not as a curious -and spruce Courtier, but rather a frequenter of rich mens Tables, -where choice of good cheere is sildome wanting, & such should have his -company, albeit not invited, yet (like a bold intruder) he had the -courage to bid himselfe welcome. - -At the same time, and in our City of _Florence_ also, there was another -man, named _Blondello_, very low of stature; yet comly formed, quicke -witted, more neat and brisk then a Butter flye, alwaies wearing a -wrought silke cap on his head, and not a haire staring out of order, -but the tuft flourishing above the forehead, and he such another -trencher-fly for the table, as our forenamed _Guiotto_ was. It so fel -out on a morning in the Lent time, that hee went into the Fish-market, -where he bought two goodly Lampreyes, for _Messer Viero de Cherchi_, -and was espied by _Guiotto_, who (comming to _Blondello_) said. What is -the meaning of this cost, and for whom is it? Whereto _Blondello_ thus -answered. Yesternight, three other Lampries, far fairer and fatter then -these, and a whole Sturgeon, were sent unto _Messer Corso Donati_, and -being not sufficient to feede divers Gentlemen, whom hee hath invited -this day to dine with him, hee caused me to buy these two beside: Doest -not thou intend to make one among them? Yes I warrant thee, replied -_Guiotto_, thou knowst I can invite my selfe thither, without any other -bidding. - -So parting; about the houre of dinner time, _Guiotto_ went to the -house of the saide _Messer Corso_, whom he found sitting and talking -with certain of his neighbours, but dinner was not (as yet) ready, -neither were they come thither to dinner. _Messer Corso_ demaunded of -_Guiotto_, what newes with him, and whither he went? Why Sir (said -_Guiotto_) I come to dine with you, and your good company. Whereto -_Messer Corso_ answered, That he was welcome, & his other friends being -gone, dinner was served in, none els thereat present but _Messer Corso_ -and _Guiotto_: al the diet being a poore dish of Pease, a little piece -of Tunny, & a few small dishes fried, without any other dishes to -follow after. _Guiotto_ seeing no better fare, but being disapointed -of his expectation, as longing to feed on the Lampries and Sturgeon, -and so to have made a full dinner indeed: was of a quick apprehension, -& apparantly perceived, that _Blondello_ had meerly guld him in a -knavery, which did not a little vex him, and made him vow to be revenged -on _Blondello_, as he could compasse occasion afterward. - -Before many daies were past, it was his fortune to meete with -_Blondello_, who having told this jest to divers of his friends, and -much good merriment made thereat: he saluted _Guiotto_ in ceremonious -manner, saying. How didst thou like the fat Lampreyes and Sturgeon, -which thou fedst on at the house of _Messer Corso Donati_? Wel Sir -(answered _Guiotto_) perhaps before eight dayes passe over my head, -thou shalt meet with as pleasing a dinner as I did. So, parting away -from _Blondello_, he met with a Porter or burthen-bearer, such as are -usually sent on errands; and hyring him to deliver a message for him, -gave him a glasse bottle, and bringing him neere to the Hal-house of -_Cavicciuli_, shewed him there a knight, called _Signior Phillippo -Argenti_, a man of huge stature, stout, strong, vainglorious, fierce -and sooner mooved to anger then any other man. To him (quoth _Guiotto_) -thou must go with this bottle in thy hand, and say thus to him. Sir, -_Blondello_ sent me to you, and courteously entreateth you, that you -would enrubinate this glasse bottle with your best Claret Wine; because -he would make merry with a few friends of his. But beware he lay no -hand on thee, because he may bee easily induced to misuse thee, and so -my businesse be disappointed. Well Sir replied the Porter, shall I say -any thing else unto him? No (quoth _Guiotto_) only go and deliver this -message, and when thou art returned, Ile pay thee for thy paines. - -The Porter being gone to the house, delivered his message to the -knight, who being a man of no great civill breeding, but furious, -rash, and inconsiderate: presently conceived, that _Blondello_ (whom -he knew well enough) sent this message in meere mockage of him, and -starting up with fiery lookes, said: What enrubination of Claret -should I send him? and what have I to do with him, or his drunken -friends? Let him and thee go hang your selves together. So he stept to -catch hold on the Porter, but he (being well warnd before) was quicke -and nimble, and escaping from him, returned backe to _Guiotto_ (who -observed all) and told him the answer of Signior _Phillippo. Guiotto_ -not a little contented, paied the Porter, and taried not in any place -till he met with _Blondello_, to whom he said. When wast thou at the -Hall of _Cavicciuli_? Not a long while, answerd _Blondello_, but why -dost thou demand such a question? Because (quoth _Guiotto_) Signior -_Phillippo_ hath sought about for thee, yet knowe not I what he would -have with thee. Is it so? replied _Blondello_, then I will walke thither -presently, to understand his pleasure. - -When _Blondello_ was thus parted from him, _Guiotto_ folowed not -farre off behind him, to behold the issue of this angry businesse; -and Signior _Phillippo_, because he could not catch the Porter, -continued much distempred, fretting and fuming, in regard he could not -comprehend the meaning of the Porters message: but onely surmized, that -_Blondello_ (by the procurement of some body else) had done this in -scorne of him. While he remained thus deeply discontented, he espied -_Blondello_ comming towards him, and meeting him by the way, he stept -close to him, and gave him a cruell blow on the face, causing his nose -to fall out a bleeding. Alas Sir, said _Blondello_, wherefore do you -strike me? Signior _Phillippo_, catching him by the haire of the head, -trampled his wrought night-cap in the dirt, & his cloke also; when, -laying many violent blowes on him, he said. Villanous Traitor as thou -art, Ile teach thee what it is to enrubinate with Claret, either thy -selfe, or any of thy cupping companions: Am I a child, to be jested -withall? - -Nor was he more furious in words, then in strokes also, beating him -about the face, hardly leaving any haire on his head, and dragging him -along in the mire, spoyling all his garments, and he not able (from -the first blow given) to speake a word in defence of himselfe. In the -end, Signior _Phillippo_ having extreamly beaten him, and many people -gathering about them, to succour a man so much misused, the matter was -at large related, and manner of the message sending. For which, they -all present, did greatly reprehend _Blondello_, considering he knew -what kinde of man _Phillippo_ was, not any way to be jested withall. -_Blondello_ in teares constantly maintained, that he never sent any -such message for wine, or intended it in the least degree: so, when the -tempest was more mildly calmed, and _Blondello_ (thus cruelly beaten -and durtied) had gotten home to his owne house, he could then remember, -that (questionles) this was occasioned by _Guiotto_. - -After some few dayes were passed over, and the hurts in his face -indifferently cured; _Blondello_ beginning to walke abroade againe, -chanced to meet with _Guiotto_: who laughing heartily at him, sayde. -Tell me _Blondello_, how doost thou like the enrubinating Clarret of -Signior _Phillippo_? As well (quoth _Blondello_) as thou didst the -Sturgeon and Lampreyes at _Messer Corso Donaties_. Why then (sayde -_Guiotto_) let these two tokens continue familiar betweene thee and -me, when thou wouldst bestow such another dinner on mee, then will I -enrubinate thy nose with a bottle of the same Claret. But _Blondello_ -perceived (to his cost) that hee had met with the worser bargaine, -and _Guiotto_ got cheare, without any blowes: and therefore desired -a peacefull attonement, each of them (alwayes after) abstaining from -flouting one another. - - - - -_Two yong Gentlemen, the one named_ Melisso, _borne in the City of_ -Laiazzo: _and the other_ Giosefo _of_ Antioche, _travailed together -unto_ Salomon, _the famous King of_ Great Britaine. _The one desiring -to learne what he should do, whereby to compasse and winne the love -of men. The other craved to be enstructed, by what meanes hee might -reclaime an headstrong and unruly wife. And what answeres the wise King -gave unto them both, before they departed away from him._ - -The Ninth Novell. - -_Containing an excellent admonition, that such as covet to have the -love of other men, must first learne themselves, how to love: Also, by -what meanes such women as are curst and self-willed, may be reduced to -civill obedience._ - - -Upon the conclusion of Madame _Laurettaes_ Novell, none now remained to -succeede next in order, but onely the Queene her selfe, the priviledge -reserved, granted to _Dioneus_; wherefore, after they had all smiled at -the folly of _Blondello_, with a chearfull countenance thus the Queene -began. - -Honourable Ladies, if with advised judgement, we do duly consider the -order of all things, we shall very easily perceyve, That the whole -universall multiplicitie of Women, by Nature, custome, and lawes, -are & ought to be subject to men, yea, and to be governd by their -discretion. Because every one desiring to enjoy peace, repose and -comfort with them, under whose charge they are; ought to be humble, -patient and obedient, over and beside her spotlesse honesty, which is -the crowne and honour of every good woman. And although those lawes, -which respect the common good of all things, or rather use & custome -(as our wonted saying is) the powers whereof are very great, and worthy -to be referenced, should not make us wise in this case. Yet Nature -hath given us a sufficient demonstration, in creating our bodies more -soft and delicate, yea, and our hearts timorous, fearefull, benigne -and compassionable, our strength feeble, our voyces pleasing, and -the motion of our members sweetly plyant; all which are apparant -testimonies, that wee have neede of others government. - -Now, it is not to be denyed, that whosoever hath need of helpe, and -is to bee governed: meerely reason commandeth, that they should bee -subject and obedient to their governour. Who then should we have for -our helps and governours, if not men? Wherefore, we should be intirely -subject to them, in giving them due honour and reverence, and such -a one as shall depart from this rule: she (in mine opinion) is not -onely worthy of grievous reprehension, but also severe chastisement -beside. And to this exact consideration (over and above divers other -important reasons) I am the rather induced, by the Novel which Madame -_Pampinea_ so lately reported, concerning the froward and wilfull -wife of _Talano_, who had a heavier punishment inflicted on her, then -her Husband could devise to doe. And therefore it is my peremptory -sentence, that all such women as will not be gracious, benigne and -pleasing: doe justly deserve (as I have already said) rude, rough and -harsh handling, as both nature, custome and lawes have commanded. - -To make good what I have said, I will declare unto you the counsell & -advise, given by _Salomon_, the wise and famous King of Great Britaine, -as a most wholesome and soveraigne medicine for the cure of such a -dangerous disease, in any woman so fouly infected. Which counsell -(notwithstanding) all such women as have no need of this Phisicke, I -would not have them to imagine, that it was meant for them, albeit men -have a common Proverbe, to wit. - - _As the good horse and bad horse, doe both need the spurre. - So a good wife and bad wife, a wand will make stirre._ - -Which saying, whosoever doth interpret it in such pleasing manner -as they ought, shall find it (as you al will affirm no lesse) to -be very true: especially in the morall meaning, it is beyond all -contradiction. Women are naturally all unstable, and easily enclining -to misgovernment; wherefore to correct the iniquity of such a -distemperature in them that out-step the tearmes and bounds of -womanhood, a wand hath been allowed for especiall phisicke. As in the -like manner, for support of vertue, in those of contrary condition, -shaming to be sullyed with so grosse a sinne: the correcting Wand may -serve as a walking staffe, to protect them from all other feares. But, -forbearing to teach any longer; let mee proceed to my purpose, and tell -you my Novell. - -In those ancient and reverend dayes, whereof I am now to speake, the -high renowne and admirable wisedome of _Salomon_, King of Great -Brittain, was most famous throughout all parts of the world; for -answering all doubtfull questions and demaunds whatsoever, that -possibly could be propounded to him. So that many resorted to him, from -the most remote and furthest off countreyes, to heare his miraculous -knowledge and experience, yea, and to crave his counsell, in matters of -greatest importance. Among the rest of them which repaired thither, was -a rich yong Gentleman, honourably descended, named _Melisso_, who came -from the City of _Laiazzo_, where he was both borne, and dwelt. - -In his riding towards _France_, as he passed by _Naples_, hee overtooke -another yong Gentleman, a native of _Antioch_, and named _Giosefo_, -whose journey lay the same way as the others did. Having ridden in -company some few dayes together, as it is a custome commonly observed -among Travellers, to understand one anothers Countrey and condition, -as also to what part his occasions call him: so happened it with them, -_Giosefo_ directly telling him, that he journyed towards the wise King -_Salomon_, to desire his advise what meanes he should observe, in the -reclaiming of a wilfull wife, the most froward and selfe-willed woman -that ever lived; whom neither faire perswasions, nor gentle courtesies -could in any manner prevaile withall. Afterward he demaunded of -_Melisso_, to know the occasion of his travell, and whither. - -Now trust me Sir, answered _Melisso_, I am a native of _Laiazzo_, and -as you are vexed with one great misfortune, even so am I offended -with another. I am young, wealthy, well derived by birth, and allow -liberall expences, for maintaining a worthy table in my house, without -distinguishing persons by their rancke and quality, but make it free -for all commers, both of the city, & all places els. Notwithstanding -all which bounty and honourable entertainement, I cannot meet with any -man that loveth me. In which respect, I journey to the same place as -you doe, to crave the counsell of so wise a King, what I should doe, -whereby I might procure men to love me. Thus like two well-met friendly -companions, they rode on together, untill they arrived in Great -Britaine, where, by meanes of the Noble Barons attending on the King; -they were brought before him. _Melisso_ delivered his minde in very -few words, whereto the King made no other answere, but this: Learne to -love. Which was no sooner spoken, but _Melisso_ was dismissed from the -Kings presence. - -_Giosefo_ also relating, wherefore he came thither; the King replyed -onely thus; Goe to the Goose Bridge: and presently _Giosefo_ had -also his dismission from the King. Comming forth, he found _Melisso_ -attending for him, and revealed in what manner the King had answered -him: whereupon, they consulted together, concerning both their -answeres, which seemed either to exceed their comprehension, or else -was delivered them in meere mockery, and therefore (more then halfe -discontented) they returned homeward againe. - -After they had ridden on a few dayes together, they came to a River, -over which was a goodly Bridge, and because a great company of Horses -and Mules (heavily laden, and after the manner of a _Caravan_ of Camels -in _Egypt_) were first to passe over the saide Bridge; they gladly -stayed to permit their passe. The greater number of them being already -past over, there was one shie and skittish Mule (belike subject to -fearefull starting, as oftentimes we see horses have the like ill -quality) that would not passe over the Bridge by any meanes, wherefore -one of the Muletters tooke a good Cudgell, and smote her at the first -gently, as hoping so to procure her passage. Notwithstanding, starting -one while backeward, then againe forward, side-wayes, and every way -indeed, but the direct Road way she would not goe. - -Now grew the Muletter extreamely angry, giving her many cruell -stroakes, on the head, sides, flancks and all parts else, but yet they -proved to no purpose, which _Melisso_ and _Giosefo_ seeing, and being -(by this meanes) hindred of their passage, they called to the Muletter, -saying. Foolish fellow, what doest thou? Intendest thou to kill the -Mule? why dost thou not leade her gently, which is the likelier course -to prevaile by, then beating and misusing her as thou dost? Content -your selves Gentlemen (answered the Muletter) you know your horses -qualities, as I doe my Mules, let mee deale with her as I please. -Having thus spoken, he gave her so many violent strokes, on head, -sides, hippes, and every where else, as made her at last passe over the -Bridge quietly, so that the Muletter wonne the Mastery of his Mule. - -When _Melisso_ and _Giosefo_ had past over the Bridge, where they -intended to part each from other; a sudden motion happened into the -minde of _Melisso_, which caused him to demaund of an aged man (who -sate craving almes of Passengers at the Bridge foot) how the Bridge was -called: Sir, answered the old man, this is called, The Goose Bridge. -Which words when _Giosefo_ heard, hee called to minde the saying of -King _Salomon_, and therefore immediately saide to _Melisso_. Worthy -friend, and partner in my travell, I dare now assure you, that the -counsell given me by King _Salomon_, may fall out most effectuall -and true: For I plainely perceive, that I knew not how to handle my -selfe-will'd-wife, untill the Muletter did instruct me. So, requesting -still to enjoy the others Company, they journeyed on, till at the -length they came to _Laiazzo_, where _Giosefo_ retained _Melisso_ still -with him, for some repose after so long a journey, and entertained him -with very honourable respect and courtesie. - -One day _Giosefo_ said to his Wife: Woman, this Gentleman is my -intimate friend, and hath borne me company in all my travell: such dyet -therefore as thou wilt welcome him withall, I would have it ordered -(in dressing) according to his direction. _Melisso_ perceiving that -_Giosefo_ would needs have it to be so; in few words directed her such -a course, as (for ever) might be to her Husbands contentment. But -she, not altring a jote from her former disposition, but rather farre -more froward and tempestuous: delighted to vexe and crosse him, doing -every thing, quite contrary to the order appointed. Which _Giosefo_ -observing, angerly he said unto her. Was it not tolde you by my friend, -in what manner he would have our Supper drest? She turning fiercely -to him, replyed. Am I to be directed by him or thee? Supper must and -shall bee drest as I will have it: if it pleaseth mee, I care not who -doth dislike it; if thou wouldst have it otherwise, goe seeke both your -Suppers where you may have it. - -_Melisso_ marvelling at her froward answere, rebuked her for it in very -kind manner: whereupon, _Giosefo_ spake thus to her. I perceive wife, -you are the same woman as you were wount to be: but beleeve me on my -word, I shall quite alter you from this curst complexion. So turning -to _Melisso_, thus he proceeded. Noble friend, we shall try anone, -whether the counsell of King _Salomon_ bee effectuall, or no; and I -pray you, let it not be offensive to you to see it; but rather hold all -to be done in merriment. And because I would not be hindered by you, -doe but remember the answere which the Muletter gave us, when we tooke -compassion on his Mule. Worthy friend, replyed _Melisso_, I am in your -owne house, where I purpose not to impeach whatsoever you doe. - -_Giosefo_, having provided a good Holly-wand, went into the Chamber, -where his wife sate railing, and despitefully grumbling, where taking -her by the haire of her head, he threw her at his feete, beating her -entreamely with the wand. She crying, then cursing, next railing, -lastly fighting, biting and scratching, when she felt the cruell smart -of the blowes, and that all her resistance served to no end: then she -fell on her knees before him, and desired mercy for charities sake. -_Giosefo_ fought still more and more on head, armes, shoulders, sides, -and all parts else, pretending as if he heard not her complaints, but -wearied himselfe wel neere out of breath: so that (to be briefe) she -that never felt his fingers before, perceived and confessed, it was now -too soone. This being done, hee returned to _Melisso_, and said: To -morrow we shall see a miracle, and how availeable the councell is of -going to the Goose Bridge. So sitting a while together, after they had -washed their hands, and supt, they withdrew to their lodgings. - -The poore beaten woman, could hardly raise her selfe from the ground, -which yet (with much adoe) she did, and threw her selfe upon the bed, -where she tooke such rest as she could: but arising early the next -morning, she came to her Husband, and making him a very low courtesie, -demaunded what hee pleased to have for his dinner; he smiling heartely -thereat, with _Melisso_, tolde her his mind. And when dinner time -came, every thing was ready according to the direction given: in which -regard, they highly commended the counsell, whereof they made such an -harsh construction at the first. - -Within a while after, _Melisso_ being gone from _Giosefo_, and returned -home to his owne house: hee acquainted a wise and reverend man, with -the answere which king _Salomon_ gave him, whereto hee received this -reply. No better or truer advise could possibly be given you, for well -you know, that you love not any man; but the bountiful banquets you -bestow on them, is more in respect of your owne vaine-glory, then any -kind affection you beare to them: Learne then to love men, as _Salomon_ -advised, and you shall be beloved of them againe. Thus our unruly Wife -became mildely reclaimed, and the yong Gentleman, by loving others, -found the fruits of reciprocall affection. - - - - -John de Barolo, _at the instance and request of his Gossip_ Pietro -da Trefanti, _made an enchantment, to have his wife become a Mule. -And when it came to the fastening on of the taile; Gossip_ Pietro _by -saying she should have no taile at all, spoyled the whole enchantment._ - -The Tenth Novell. - -_In just reproofe of such foolish men, as will be governed by -over-light beleefe._ - - -This Novell reported by the Queene, caused a little murmuring among the -Ladies, albeit the men laughed heartely thereat: but after they were -all growne silent, _Dioneus_ began in this manner. Gracious Beauties, -among many white Doves, one blacke Crow will seeme more sightly, then -the very whitest Swanne can doe. In like manner, among a multitude of -wise men, sometimes one of much lesse wisedome and discretion, shall -not onely increase the splendour and Majestie of their maturity, but -also give an addition of delight and solace. - -In which regard, you all being modest and discreet Ladies, and my -selfe more much defective in braine, then otherwise able: in making -your vertues shine gloriously, through the evident apparance of mine -owne weakenesse, you should esteeme the better of mee, by how much I -seeme the more cloudy and obscure. And consequently, I ought to have -the larger scope of liberty, by plainely expressing what I am, and -be the more patiently endured by you all, in saying what absurdly I -shall; then I should be if my speeches favoured of absolute wisdome. -I will therefore tell you a Tale, which shall not be of any great -length, whereby you may comprehend, how carefully such things should -be observed, which are commanded by them, as can effect matters by the -power of enchantment, and how little delayance also ought to be in -such, as would not have an enchantment so be hindered. - -About a yeare already past since, there dwelt at _Barletta_, an honest -man, called _John de Barolo_, who because he was of poore condition; -for maintenance in his contented estate, provided himselfe of a Mule, -to carry commodities from place to place, where Faires and Markets were -in request, but most especially to _Apuglia_, buying and selling in the -nature of a petty Chapman. Travelling thus thorow the Countreyes, he -grew into great and familiar acquaintance, with one who named himselfe -_Pietro da Trefanti_, following the same Trade of life as he did, -carrying his commodities upon an Asse. In signe of amitie, according -to the Countreyes custome, he never tearmed him otherwise, then by -the name of Gossip _Pietro_ and alwayes when he came to _Barletta_, -he brought him to his own house, taking it as his Inne, entreating -him very friendly, and in the best manner he could devise to doe. -On the other side, Gossip _Pietro_ being very poore, having but one -simple habitation in the village of _Trefanti_, hardly sufficient for -him, and an handsome young woman which he had to his wife, as also -his Asse: evermore when _John de Barolo_ came to _Trefanti_, he would -bring him to his poore abiding, with all his uttermost abilitie of -entertainement, in due acknowledgement of the courtesie he afforded to -him at _Barletta_. But when he came to take repose in the night-season, -Gossip _Pietro_ could not lodge him as gladly he would: because he had -but one silly bed, wherein himselfe and his wife lay; so that _John de -Barolo_ was faigne to lie on a little straw, in a small stable, close -adjoyning by his owne Mule and the Asse. - -The woman understanding, what good and honest welcome, Gossip -_John_ afforded her husband, when he came to _Barletta_, was often -very willing to goe lodge with an honest neighbour of hers, called -_Carapresa di Giudice Leo_, because the two Gossips might both lie -together in one bed; wherewith divers times she acquainted her Husband, -but by no meanes he would admit it. - -At one time among the rest, as she was making the same motion againe to -her Husband, that his friend might be lodged in better manner: Gossip -_John_ thus spake to her. Good _Zita Carapresa_, never molest your -selfe for me, because I lodge to mine owne contentment, and so much the -rather, in regard that whensoever I list: I can convert my Mule into a -faire young woman, to give mee much delight in the night-season, and -afterward make her a Mule againe: thus am I never without her company. - -The young woman wondring at these words, and beleeving he did not fable -in them: she told them to her Husband, with this addition beside, -_Pietro_ (quoth she) if he be such a deare friend to thee, as thou hast -often avouched to me; with him to instruct thee in so rare a cunning, -that thou maist make a Mule of me; then shalt thou have both an Asse -and a Mule to travell withall about thy businesse, whereby thy benefit -will be double: and when we returne home to our house; then thou maist -make mee thy wife againe, in the same condition as I was before. Gossip -_Pietro_, who was (indeed) but a very Coxecombe; beleeved also the -words to be true, yeelding therefore the more gladly to her advise; and -moving the matter to his Gossip _John_, to teach him such a wonderfull -secret, which would redound so greatly to his benefit: but _John_ -began to disswade him from it, as having spoken it in merriment, yet -perceiving, that no contradiction would serve to prevaile, thus he -began. - -Seeing you will needs have it so, let us rise to morrow morning before -day, as in our travell we use to doe, and then I will shew you how it -is to be done: onely I must and doe confesse, that the most difficult -thing of all the rest, is, to fasten on the taile, as thou shalt see. - -Gossip _Pietro_ and his wife, could hardly take any rest all the night -long, so desirous they were to have the deed done; and therefore when -it drew towards day, up they arose, and calling Gossip _John_, he came -presently to them in his shirt, & being in the Chamber with them, he -said. I know not any man in the world, to whom I would disclose this -secret, but to you, and therefore because you so earnestly desire -it, I am the more willing to doe it. Onely you must consent, to doe -whatsoever I say, if you are desirous to have it done. Faithfully they -promised to performe all, whereupon _John_ delivering a lighted Candle -to Gossip _Pietro_, to hold in his hand, said. Marke well what I doe, -and remember all the words I say: but be very carefull, that whatsoever -thou hearest or seest, thou doe not speake one word, for then the -enchantment will be utterly overthrowne, onely wish that the taile may -be well set on, for therein consisteth all the cunning. - -Gossip _Pietro_ holding the Candle, and the woman being prepared as -_John_ had appointed her, she bowed her selfe forwardes with her hands -set to the ground, even as if she stood upon foure feete. First with -his hands he touched her head and face, saying, Heere is the goodly -head of a Mule: then handling her disheveld haire, termed them the -goodly mane of a Mule. Afterwardes, touching the body, armes, legs, -and feete, gave them all the apt names (for those parts) belonging to -a Mule, nothing else remaining, but onely the forming of the taile, -which when _Pietro_ perceived, how _John_ was preparing to fasten it -on (having no way misliked all his former proceeding) he called to -him, saying: Forbeare Gossippe _John_, my Mule shall have no taile -at all, I am contented to have her without a taile. How now Gossip -_Pietro_? answered _John_, What hast thou done? Thou hast mard all by -this unadvised speaking, even when the worke was almost fully finished. -It is no matter Gossip (answered _Pietro_) I can like my Mule better -without a taile, then to see it set on in such manner. - -The fond yong woman, more covetously addicted to gayne and commodity, -then looking into the knavish intention of her Gossip _John_; began to -grow greatly offended. Beast as thou art (quoth she to her Husband) why -hast thou overthrowne both thine own good Fortune and mine? Diddest -thou ever see a Mule without a taile? Wouldst thou have had him made -me a monster? Thou art wretchedly poore, and when we might have bin -enriched for ever, by a secret knowne to none but our selves, thou -art the Asse that hast defeated all, and made thy friend to become -thine enemy. Gossippe _John_ began to pacifie the woman, with solemne -protestations of his still continuing friendship, albeit (afterwards) -there was no further desiring of any more Mule-making: but Gossip -_Pietro_ fel to his former Trading onely with his Asse, as he was no -lesse himselfe, and hee went no more with Gossip _John_ to the Faires -in _Apuglia_, neyther did he ever request, to have the like peece of -service done for him. - - * * * * * - -Although there was much laughing at this Novell, the Ladies -understanding it better, then _Dioneus_ intended that they should have -done, yet himselfe scarsely smiled. But the Novels being all ended, and -the Sunne beginning to loose his heate; the Queene also knowing, that -the full period of her government was come: dispossessing her selfe of -the Crowne, shee placed it on the head of _Pamphilus_, who was the last -of all to be honoured with this dignity; wherefore (with a gracious -smile) thus she spake to him. - -Sir, it is no meane charge which you are to undergo, in making amends -(perhaps) for all the faults committed by my selfe and the rest, -who have gone before you in the same authority; and, may it prove -as prosperous unto you, as I was willing to create you our King. -_Pamphilus_ having received the Honour with a chearfull mind, thus -answered. Madam, your sacred vertues, and those (beside) remaining in -my other Subjects, will (no doubt) worke so effectually for me, that -(as the rest have done) I shall deserve your generall good opinion. -And having given order to the Master of the Houshold (as all his -predecessors had formerly done, for every necessary occasion) he turned -to the Ladies, who expected his gracious favour, and said. - -Bright Beauties, it was the discretion of your late Soveraigne & -Queene, in regard of ease and recreation unto your tyred spirits, to -grant you free liberty, for discoursing on whatsoever your selves -best pleased: wherefore, having enjoyed such a time of rest, I am -of opinion, that it is best to returne once more to our wonted Law, -in which respect, I would have every one to speake in this manner -to morrow. Namely, of those men or women, who have done any thing -bountifully or magnificently, either in matter of amity, or otherwise. -The relation of such worthy arguments, will (doubtlesse) give an -addition to our very best desires, for a free and forward inclination -to good actions, whereby our lives (how short soever they bee) may -perpetuate an ever-living renowne and fame, after our mortall bodies -are converted into dust, which (otherwise) are no better then those of -bruite beasts, reason onely distinguishing this difference, that as -they live to perish utterly, so we respire to reigne in eternity. - -The Theame was exceedingly pleasing to the whole Company; who being all -risen, by permission of the new King, every one fel to their wonted -recreations, as best agreed with their owne disposition; untill the -houre for Supper came, wherein they were served very sumptuously. But -being risen from the Table, they began their dances, among which, -many sweet Sonnets were enterlaced, with such delicate Tunes as moved -admiration. Then the King commanded Madam _Neiphila_, to sing a song in -his name, or how her selfe stood best affected. And immediatly with a -cleare and rare voice, thus she began. - - _THE SONG._ - - The Chorus sung by all the Companie. - - _In the Spring season, - Maides have best reason, - To dance and sing; - With Chaplets of Flowers, - To decke up their Bowers, - And all in honour of the Spring._ - - _I heard a Nimph that sate alone, - By a Fountaines side: - Much her hard Fortune to bemone, - For still she cride: - Ah! Who will pitty her distresse, - That findes no foe like ficklenesse? - For truth lives not in men: - Poore soule, why live I then? - In the Spring season, &c._ - - _Oh, How can mighty Love permit, - Such a faithlesse deed, - And not in justice punish it - As treasons meed? - I am undone through perjury, - Although I loved constantly: - But truth lives not in men, - Poore soule, why live I then? - In the Spring season,&c._ - - _When I did follow Dyans traine, - As a loyall Maide, - I never felt oppressing paine, - Nor was dismaide. - But when I listened Loves alluring, - Then I wandred from assuring. - For truth lives not in men: - Poore soule, why live I then? - In the Spring season, &c._ - - _Adiew to all my former joyes, - When I lived at ease, - And welcome now those sad annoies - Which do most displease. - And let none pitty her distresse, - That fell not, but by ficklenesse. - For truth lives not in men, - Alas! why live I then?_ - - _In the Spring season, - Maides have best reason, - To dance and sing; - With Chaplets of Flowers, - To decke up their Bowers, - And all in honour of the Spring._ - -This Song, most sweetly sung by Madame _Neiphila_, was especially -commended, both by the King, & all the rest of the Ladies. Which being -fully finished, the King gave order, that everie one should repaire to -their Chambers, because a great part of the night was already spent. - -_The end of the Ninth Day._ - - - - -The Tenth and last Day. - -_Whereon, under the government of Pamphilus, the severall Arguments -do concerne such persons, as either by way of Liberality, or in -Magnificent manner, performed any worthy action, for love, favour, -friendship, or any other honourable occasion._ - - -The Induction. - - -Already began certaine small Clouds in the West, to blush with a -Vermillion tincture, when those in the East (having reached to their -full heighth) looked like bright burnished Gold, by splendour of the -Sun beames drawing neere unto them: when _Pamphilus_ being risen, -caused the Ladies, and the rest of his honourable companions to be -called. When they were all assembled, and had concluded together on -the place, whither they should walke for their mornings recreation: -the King ledde on the way before, accompanied with the two Noble -Ladies _Philomena_ and _Fiammetta_, all the rest following after them, -devising, talking, and answering to divers demands both what that day -was to be don, as also concerning the proposed imposition. - -After they had walked an indifferent space of time, and found the rayes -of the Sunne to be over-piercing for them: they returned backe againe -to the Pallace, as fearing to have their blood immoderately heated. -Then rinsing their Glasses in the coole cleare running current, each -tooke their mornings draught, & then walked into the milde shades -about the Garden, untill they should bee summoned to dinner. Which -was no sooner over-past, and such as slept, returned waking: they -mette together againe in their wonted place, according as the King -had appointed, where he gave command unto Madame _Neiphila_, that -shee should (for that day) begin the first Novell, which she humbly -accepting, thus began. - - - - -_A Florentine knight, named Signior_ Rogiero de Figiovanni, _became -a servant to_ Alphonso, _King of_ Spaine, _who (in his owne opinion) -seemed but sleightly to respect and reward him. In regard whereof, by a -notable experiment, the King gave him a manifest testimony, that it was -not through any defect in him, but onely occasioned by the Knights ill -fortune; most bountifully recompensing him afterward._ - -The First Novell. - -_Wherein may evidently be discerned, that Servants to Princes and great -Lords, are many times recompenced, rather by their good fortune, then -in any regard of their dutifull services._ - - -I doe accept it (Worthy Ladies) as no mean favour, that the King hath -given me the first place, to speake of such an honourable Argument, as -Bounty and Magnificence is, which precious Jewell, even as the Sunne is -the beauty, or ornament and bright glory of al heaven; so is bounty and -magnificence the Crowne of all vertues. I shall then recount to you a -short Novell, sufficiently pleasing, in mine owne opinion, and I hope -(so much I dare rely on your judgements) both profitable, and worthy to -be remembred. - -You are to know then, that among other valiant Knights, which of long -have lived in our City, one of them, and (perhappes) of as great -merit as any, was one, named Signior _Rogiero d'Figiovanni_. He being -rich, of great courage, and perceiving, that (in due consideration) -the quality belonging to life, and the customes observed among our -_Tuscanes_, were not answerable to his expectation, nor agreed with the -disposition of his valour; determined to leave his native Countrey, -and belong in service (for some time) to _Alfonso_, King of _Spaine_, -whose fame was generally noised in all places, for excelling all -other Princes in those times, for respect of mens well deservings, -and bountifull requitall of their paines. Being provided in honorable -order, both of Horses, Armes, & a competent train, he travelled to -_Spaine_, where he was worthily entertained. - -Signior _Rogiero_ continuing there, living in honorable manner, and -performing many admirable actions of arms; in short time he made -himselfe sufficiently knowne, for a very valiant and famous man. And -having remained there an indifferent long while, observing divers -behaviours in the king: he saw, how he enclined himselfe first to one -man, then to another, bestowing on one a Castle, a Towne on another, -and Baronnies on divers, some-what indiscreetly, as giving away -bountifully to men of no merit. And restraining all his favors from -him, as seeming close fisted, and parting with nothing: he took it as -a diminishing of his former reputation, and a great empayring of his -fame, wherefore he resolved on his departure thence, & made his suit to -the king that he might obtaine it. The king did grant it, bestowing on -him one of the very best Mules, and the goodliest that ever was backt, -a gift most highly pleasing to _Rogiero_, in regarde of the long journy -he intended to ride. Which being deliverd, the king gave charge to one -of his Gentlemen, to compasse such convenient meanes, as to ride thorow -the country, and in the company of Signior _Rogiero_, yet in such -manner, as he should not perceive, that the King had purposely sent him -so to do. Respectively he should observe whatsoever he said concerning -the king, his gesture, smiles, and other behavior, shaping his answers -accordingly, and on the nexte morning to command his returne backe with -him to the King. - -Nor was the Gentleman slacke in this command, but noting _Rogieroes_ -departing forth of the city, he mounted on horseback likewise, and -immediatly after came into his company, making him beleeve, that he -journied towards _Italy. Rogiero_ rode on the Mule which the king had -given him, with diversity of speeches passing between them. About three -of the clocke in the afternoone, the Gentleman said. It were not -amisse Sir, (having such fit opportunitie) to Stable our horses for a -while, till the heate be a little more overpast. So taking an Inne, and -the horses being in the stable, they all staled except the Mule. - -Being mounted againe, and riding on further, the Gentleman duely -observed whatsoever _Rogiero_ spake, and comming to the passage of a -small River or Brooke: the rest of the beasts dranke, and not the Mule, -but staled in the River: which Signior _Rogiero_ seeing, clapping his -hands on the Mules mane, hee said. What a wicked beast art thou? thou -art just like thy Master that gave thee to mee. The Gentleman committed -the words to memory, as he did many other passing from _Rogiero_, -riding along the rest of the day, yet none in disparagement of the -King, but rather highly in his commendation. And being the next morning -mounted on horseback, seeming to hold on still the way for _Tuscane_: -the Gentleman fulfilled the Kings command, causing Signior _Rogiero_ to -turne back againe with him, which willingly he yeelded to doe. - -When they were come to the Court, and the King made acquainted with -the words, which _Rogiero_ spake to his Mule; he was called into the -presence, where the King shewed him a gracious countenance, & demanded -of him, why he had compared him to his Mule? Signior _Rogiero_ nothing -daunted, but with a bold and constant spirit, thus answered. Sir, I -made the comparison, because, like as you give, where there is no -conveniency, and bestow nothing where reason requireth: even so, the -Mule would not stale where she should have done, but where was water -too much before, there she did it. Beleeve me Signior _Rogiero_, -replyed the King, if I have not given you such gifts, as (perhaps) I -have done to divers other, farre inferiour to you in honour and merit; -this happened not thorough any ignorance in me, as not knowing you to -be a most valiant Knight, and well-worthy of speciall respect: but -rather through your owne ill fortune, which would not suffer me to -doe it, whereof she is guilty, and not I, as the truth thereof shall -make it selfe apparent to you. Sir, answered _Rogiero_, I complaine -not, because I have received no gift from you, as desiring thereby -covetously to become the richer: but in regard you have not as yet any -way acknowledged, what vertue is remaining in me. Neverthelesse, I -allow your excuse for good and reasonable, and am heartely contented, -to behold whatsoever you please; although I doe confidently credit you, -without any other testimony. - -The King conducted him then into the great Hall, where (as hee had -before given order) stood two great Chests, fast lockt; & in the -presence of all his Lords, the King thus spake. Signior _Rogiero_, -in out of these Chests is mine imperiall Crowne, the Scepter Royall, -the Mound, & many more of my richest girdles, rings, plate, & Jewels, -even the very best that are mine: the other is full of earth onely. -Chuse one of these two, and which thou makest election of; upon my -Royall word thou shalt enjoy it. Hereby shalt thou evidently perceive, -who hath bin ingreatful to the deservings, either I, or thine owne -bad fortune. _Rogiero_ seeing it was the kings pleasure to have it -so; chose one of them, which the King caused presently to be opened, -it approving to be the same that was full of earth, whereat the King -smyling, said thus unto him. - -You see Signior _Rogiero_, that what I said concerning your ill -fortune, is very true: but questionlesse, your valour is of such -desert, as I ought to oppose my selfe against all her malevolence. And -because I know right, that you are not minded to become a Spaniard; -I will give you neither Castle nor dwelling place: but I will bestow -the Chest on you (in meer despight of your malicious fortune) which -she so unjustly tooke away from you. Carry it home with you into your -Countrey, that there it may make an apparant testimoney, in the sight -of all your well-willers, both of your owne vertuous deservings, and my -bounty. Signior _Rogiero_ humbly receiving the Chest, and thanking his -Majestie for so liberall a gift, returned home joyfully therewith, into -his native Countrey of _Tuscane_. - - - - -Ghinotto di Tacco; _tooke the Lord Abbot of_ Clugni _as his prisoner, -and cured him of a grievous disease, which he had in his stomacke, and -afterward set him at liberty. The same Lord Abbot, when hee returned -from the Court of Rome, reconciled_ Ghinotto _to Pope_ Boniface; _who -made him a Knight, and Lord Prior of a goodly Hospitall._ - -The second Novell. - -_Wherein is declared that good men doe sometimes fall into bad -conditions, onely occasioned thereto by necessity: And what meanes are -to be used, for their reducing to goodnesse againe._ - - -The magnificence and Royall bounty, which King _Alphonso_ bestowed on -the Florentine knight, passed through the whole assembly with no mean -applause; & the King (who gave it the greatest praise of al) commanded -Madame _Eliza_, to take the second turne in order; whereupon, thus she -began. - -Faire Ladies, if a king shewed himselfe magnificently minded, and -expressed his liberall bounty to such a man, as had done him good and -honourable services: it can be termed no more then a vertuous deed well -done, and becomming a King. But what will we say, when we heare that -a Prelate of the Church, shewed himselfe wondrously magnificent, and -to such a one as was his enemy: can any malicious tongue speake ill -of him? Undoubtedly, no other answere is to be made, but the action of -the King was meerely vertue, and that of the Prelate, no lesse then -a miracle: for how can it be otherwise, when they are more greedily -covetous then women, and deadly enemies to all liberality? And although -every man (naturally) desireth revenge for injuries and abuses done -unto him: yet men of the Church, in regard that dayly they preached -patience, and commaund (above all things else) remission of sinnes: it -would appeare a mighty blemish in them, to be more froward and furious -then other men. But I am to speake of a reverend Prelate of the Church, -as also concerning his munificent bounty, to one that was his enemy, -and yet became his reconciled friend, as you shall perceive by my -Novell. - -_Ghinotto di Tacco_, for his insolent and stout robberies, became a man -very farre famed, who being banished from _Sienna_, and an enemy to -the Countes _Disanta Fiore_: prevailed so by his bold and headstrong -perswasions, that the Towne of _Raticonfani_ rebelled against the -Church of Rome, wherein he remaining; all passengers whatsoever, -travelling any way thereabout, were robde and rifled by his theeving -Companions. At the time whereof now I speake, _Boniface_ the eight, -governed as Pope at Rome, and the Lord Abbot of _Clugni_ (accounted to -be one of the richest Prelates in the world) came to Rome, and there -either by some surfeit, excesse of feeding, or otherwise, his stomacke -being grievously offended and pained; the Phisitians advised him, to -travell to the Bathes at _Sienna_, where he should receive immediate -cure. In which respect, his departure being licenced by the Pope, -to set onward thither, with great and pompous Cariages, of Horses, -Mules, and a goodly traine, without hearing any rumour of the theevish -Consorts. - -_Ghinotto di Tacco_, being advertised of his comming, spred about -his scouts and nettes, and without missing so much as one Page, shut -up the Abbot, with all his traine and baggage, in a place of narrow -restraint, out of which he could by no meanes escape. When this was -done, he sent one of his most sufficient attendants, (well accompanyed) -to the Lord Abbot, who said to him in his Masters name, that if his -Lordship were so pleased, hee might come and visite _Ghinotto_ at his -Castle. Which the Abbot hearing, answered chollerickly, that he would -not come thither, because hee had nothing to say to _Ghinotto_: but -meant to proceed on in his journy, and would faine see, who durst -presume to hinder his passe. To which rough words, the messenger thus -mildely answered. My Lord (quoth he) you are arrived in such a place, -where we feare no other force, but the all-controlling power of heaven, -clearely exempted from the Popes thunder-cracks, of maledictions, -interdictions, excommunications, or whatsoever else: and therefore -it would bee much better for you, if you pleased to do as _Ghinotto_ -adviseth you. - -During the time of this their interparlance, the place was suddenly -round ingirt with strongly armed theeves, and the Lord Abbot -perceiving, that both he and all his followers were surprized: tooke -his way (though very impatiently) towards the Castle, and likewise all -his company and carriages with him. Being dismounted, hee was conducted -(as _Ghinotto_ had appointed) all alone, into a small Chamber of the -Castle, it being very darke and uneasie: but the rest of his traine, -every one according to his ranck and quality, were all well lodged -in the Castle, their horses, goods and all things else, delivered -into secure keeping, without the least touch of injury or prejudice. -All which being orderly done, _Ghinotto_ himselfe went to the Lord -Abbot, and said. My Lord, _Ghinotto_, to whom you are a welcome guest, -requesteth, that it might be your pleasure to tell him, whither you are -travelling, and upon what occasion? - -The Lord Abbot being a very wise man, and his angry distemper more -moderately qualified; revealed whither he went, and the cause of -his going thither. Which when _Ghinotto_ had heard, hee departed -courteously from him, and began to consider with himselfe, how he might -cure the Abbot; yet without any Bathe. So, commanding a good fire to be -kept continually in his small Chamber, and very good attendance on him: -the next morning, he came to visite him againe, bringing a faire white -Napkin on his arme, and in it two slices or toasts of fine Manchet, a -goodly cleare Glasse, full of the purest white-Bastard of _Corniglia_ -(but indeed, of the Abbots owne provision brought thither with him) and -then hee spoke to him in this manner. - -My Lord, when _Ghinotto_ was yonger then now he is, he studyed -Physicke, and he commanded me to tell you, that the very best medicine, -he could ever learne, against any disease in the stomacke, was this -which he had provided for your Lordship, as an especial preparative, -and which he should finde to be very comfortable. The Abbot, who had -a better stomacke to eate, then any will or desire to talke: although -hee did it somewhat disdainfully, yet hee eate up both the toastes, -and roundly dranke off the Glasse of Bastard. Afterward, divers other -speeches passed betweene them, the one still advising in Phisicall -manner, and the other seeming to care little for it: but moved many -questions concerning _Ghinotto_, and earnestly requesting to see him. -Such speeches as favoured of the Abbots discontentment, and came from -him in passion; were clouded with courteous acceptance, & not the least -signe of any mislike: but assuring his Lordship, that _Ghinotto_ -intended very shortly to see him, and so they parted for that time. - -Nor returned he any more, till the next morning with the like two -toastes of bread, and such another Glasse of white Bastard, as he had -brought him at the first, continuing the same course for divers dayes -after: till the Abbot had eaten (and very hungerly too) a pretty store -of dryed Beanes, which _Ghinotto_ purposely, (yet secretly) had hidden -in the Chamber. Whereupon he demaunded of him (as seeming to be so -enjoyned by his pretended master) in what temper he found his stomacke -now? I should finde my stomacke well enough (answered the Lord Abbot) -if I could get forth of thy masters fingers, and then have some good -food to feed on: for his medicines have made me so soundly stomackt, -that I am ready to starve with hunger. - -When _Ghinotto_ was gone from him, hee then prepared a very faire -Chamber for him, adorning it with the Abbots owne rich hangings, as -also his Plate and other moveables, such as were alwayes used for his -service. A costly dinner he provided likewise, whereto he invited -divers of the Towne, and many of the Abbots chiefest followers: then -going to him againe the next morning, he said. My Lord, seeing you doe -feele your stomacke so well, it is time you should come forth of the -Infirmary. And taking him by the hand, he brought him into the prepared -Chamber, where he left him with his owne people, and went to give order -for the dinners serving in, that it might be performed in magnificent -manner. - -The Lord Abbot recreated himselfe a while with his owne people, -to whom he recounted, the course of his life since hee saw them; -and they likewise told him, how kindly they had bin initeated by -_Ghinotto_. But when dinner time was come, the Lord Abbot and all his -company, were served with Costly viands and excellent Wines, without -_Ghinottoes_ making himselfe knowne to the Abbot: till after he had -beene entertained some few dayes in this order: into the great Hall of -the Castle, _Ghinotto_ caused all the Abbots goods and furniture to bee -brought, and likewise into a spacious Court, whereon the windowes of the -said Court gazed, all his mules and horses, with their sumpters, even -to the very silliest of them, which being done, _Ghinotto_ went to the -Abbot, and demaunded of him, how he felt his stomacke now, and whether -it would serve him to venter on horsebacke as yet, or no? The Lord -Abbot answered, that he found his stomacke perfectly recovered, his -body strong enough to endure travell, and all things well, so hee were -delivered from _Ghinotto_. - -Hereupon, he brought him into the hall where his furniture was, as -also all his people, & commanding a window to be opned, whereat he -might behold his horses, he said. My Lord, let me plainely give you -to understand, that neither cowardise, or basenesse of minde, induced -_Ghinotto di Tacco_ (which is my selfe) to become a lurking robber on -the high-wayes, an enemy to the Pope, and so (consequently) to the -Romane Court: but onely to save his owne life and honour, knowing -himselfe to be a Gentleman cast out of his owne house, and having -(beside) infinite enemies. But because you seeme to be a worthy Lord, -I will not (although I have cured your stomacks disease) deale with -you as I doe to others, whose goods (when they fall into my power) -I take such part of as I please: but rather am well contented, that -my necessities being considered by your selfe, you spare me out a -proportion of the things you have heere, answerable to your owne -liking. For all are present here before you, both in this Hall, and -in the Court beneath, free from any spoyle, or the least impairing. -Wherefore, give a part, or take all, if you please, and then depart -hence when you will, or abide heere still, for now you are at your owne -free liberty. - -The Lord Abbot wondred not a little, that a robber on the high wayes, -should have such a bold and liberall spirit, which appeared very -pleasing to him; and instantly, his former hatred and spleene against -_Ghinotto_, became converted into cordiall love and kindnes, so that -(imbracing him in his armes) he said. I protest upon my vow made to -Religion, that to win the love of such a man, as I plainely perceive -thee to be: I would undergo far greater injuries, then those which I -have received at thy hands. Accursed be cruell destiny, that forced -thee to so base a kind of life, and did not blesse thee with a fairer -fortune. After he had thus spoken, he left there the greater part of -all his goods, and returned back againe to Rome, with fewer horses, and -a meaner traine. - -During these passed accidents, the Pope had received intelligence of -the Lord Abbots surprizall, which was not a little displeasing to him: -but when he saw him returned, he demaunded, what benefit he received -at the Bathes? Whereto the Abbot, merrily smyling, thus replyed. -Holy Father, I met with a most skilfull Physitian neerer hand, whose -experience is beyond the power of the Bathes, for by him I am very -perfectly cured: and so discoursed all at large. The Pope laughing -heartely, and the Abbot continuing on still his report, moved with an -high and magnificent courage, he demaunded one gracious favour of the -Pope: who imagining that he would request a matter of greater moment, -then he did, freely offered to grant, whatsoever he desired. - -Holy Father, answered the Lord Abbot, all the humble suit which I -make to you, is, that you would be pleased to receive into your grace -and favor, _Ghinotto di Tacco_ my Physitian, because among all the -vertuous men, deserving to have especial account made of them I never -met with any equall to him both in honour and honesty. Whatsoever -injury he did to me, I impute it as a greater in-fortune, then any way -he deserveth to be charged withall. Which wretched condition of his, -if you were pleased to alter, and bestow on him some better meanes of -maintenance, to live like a worthy man, as he is no lesse: I make no -doubt, but (in very short time) hee will appeare as pleasing to your -holinesse, as (in my best judgement) I thinke him to be. - -The Pope, who was of a magnanimious spirit, and one that highly -affected men of vertue, hearing the commendable motion made by the -Abbot; returned answere, that he was as willing to grant it, as the -other desired it, sending Letters of safe conduct for his comming -thither. _Ghinotto_ receiving such assurance from the Court of Rome, -came thither immediatly, to the great joy of the Lord Abbot: and the -Pope finding him to be a man of valour and worth, upon reconciliation, -remitted all former errors, creating him knight, and Lord Prior of the -very chiefest Hospitall in Rome. In which Office he lived long time -after, as a loyall servant to the Church, and an honest thankefull -friend to the Lord Abbot of _Clugny_. - - - - -Mithridanes _envying the life and liberality of_ Nathan, _and -travelling thither, with a setled resolution to kill him: chaunceth to -conferre with_ Nathan _unknowne. And being instructed by him, in what -manner he might best performe the bloody deede, according as hee gave -direction, hee meeteth with him in a small Thicket or Woode, where -knowing him to be the same man, that taught him how to take away his -life: Confounded with shame, hee acknowledgeth his horrible intention, -and becommeth his loyall friend._ - -The third Novell. - -_Shewing in an excellent and lively demonstration, that any especiall -honourable vertue, persevering and dwelling in a truly noble soule, -cannot be violenced or confounded, by the most politicke attemptes of -malice and envy._ - - -It appeared to the whole assembly, that they had heard a matter of -mervaile, for a Lord Abbot to performe any magnificent action: but -their admiration ceasing in silence, the King commanded _Philostratus_ -to follow next, who forthwith thus began. - -Honourable Ladies, the bounty and magnificence of _Alphonso_ King -of _Spaine_, was great indeede, and that done by the Lord Abbot of -_Clugny_, a thing (perhaps) never heard of in any other. But it will -seeme no lesse mervailous to you, when you heare, how one man, in -expression of great liberality to another man, that earnestly desired -to kill him; should bee secretly disposed to give him his life, which -had bin lost, if the other would have taken it, as I purpose to -acquaint you withall, in a short Novell. - -Most certaine it is, at least, if Faith may bee given to the report of -certaine _Genewayes_, and other men resorting to those remote parts, -that in the Country of _Cathaya_, there lived somtime a Gentleman, rich -beyond comparison, and named _Nathan_. He having his living adjoyning -to a great common rode-way, whereby men travayled from the East to -the West (as they did the like from the West unto the East, as having -no other means of passage) and being of a bountifull and chearfull -disposition, which he was willing to make knowen by experience: he -summoned together many Master Masons and Carpenters, and there erected -(in a short time) one of the greatest, goodliest, and most beautifull -houses (in manner of a Princes Pallace) that ever was seene in all -those quarters. - -With movables and all kinde of furnishment, befitting a house of -such outward apparance, hee caused it to be plentifully stored, -onely to receive, entertaine, and honor all Gentlemen or other -Travailers whatsoever, as had occasion to passe that way, being not -unprovided also of such a number of servants, as might continuallie -give attendance on all commers and goers. Two and fifty severall -gates, standing al way wide open, & over each of them in great golden -carracters was written, _Welcome, welcome,_ and gave free admission to -all commers whatsoever. - -In this honourable order (observed as his estated custom) he persevered -so long a while, as not onely the East parts, but also those in the -west, were every where acquainted with his fame & renown. Being -already well stept into yeares, but yet not wearie (therefore) of his -great charge and liberality: it fortuned, that the rumour of his noble -Hospitality, came to the eare of another gallant Gentleman, named -_Mithridanes_, living in a Countrey not farre off from the other. - -This Gentleman, knowing himself no lesse wealthy then _Nathan_, and -enviously repining at his vertue and liberality, determined in his -mind, to dim and obscure the others bright splendour, by making himselfe -farre more famous. And having built a Palace answerable to that of -_Nathans_, with like windings of gates, and welcome inscriptions; he -beganne to extend immeasurable courtesies, unto all such as were -disposed to visite him: so that (in a short while) hee grew very -famous in infinite places. It chanced on a day, as _Mithridanes_ sate -all alone within the goodly Court of his Pallace: a poore woman -entred at one of the gates, craving an almes of him, which she had; -and returned in againe at a second gate, comming also to him, and -had a second almes; continuing so still a dozen times; but at the -thirteenth returning, _Mithridanes_ saide to her: Good Woman, you goe -and come very often, and still you are served with almes. When the old -Woman heard these words, she said. O the liberality of _Nathan_! How -honourable and wonderfull is that? I have past through two and thirty -gates of his Palace, even such as are here, and at every one I receyved -an almes, without any knowledgement taken of me, either by him, or any -of his followers: and heere I have past but through thirteene gates, -and am there both acknowledged and taken. Fare well to this house, for -I never meane to visit it any more; with which words shee departed -thence, and never after came thither againe. - -When _Mithridanes_ had a while pondered on her speeches, hee waxed -much discontented, as taking the words of the olde woman, to extoll -the renowne of _Nathan_, and darken or ecclipse his glorie, whereupon -he said to himselfe. Wretched man as I am, when shall I attaine to the -height of liberality, and performe such wonders, as _Nathan_ doth? In -seeking to surmount him, I cannot come neere him in the very meanest. -Undoubtedly, I spend all my endeavour but in vaine, except I rid the -world of him, which (seeing his age will not make an end of him) I must -needs do with my own hands. In which furious and bloody determination -(without revealing his intent to any one) he mounted on horse-backe, -with few attendants in his company, and after three dayes journey, -arrived where _Nathan_ dwelt. He gave order to his men, to make no shew -of beeing his servants, or any way to acknowledge him: but to provide -them selves of convenient lodgings, untill they heard other tydings -from him. - -About Evening, and (in this manner) alone by himselfe, neere to the -Palace of _Nathan_, he met him solitarily walking, not in pompous -apparrell, whereby to bee distinguished from a meaner man: and, because -he knew him not, neyther had heard any relation of his description, -he demanded of him, if he knew where _Nathan_ then was? _Nathan_, -with a chearfull countenance, thus replyed. Faire Syr, there is no -man in these parts, that knoweth better how to shew you _Nathan_ -then I do; and therefore, if you be so pleased, I will bring you to -him. _Mithridanes_ said, therein he should do him a great kindnesse: -albeit (if it were possible) he would bee neyther knowne nor seene -of _Nathan_. And that (quoth he) can I also do sufficiently for you, -seeing it is your will to have it so, if you will goe along with me. - -Dismounting from his horse, he walked on with _Nathan_, diversly -discoursing, untill they came to the Pallace, where one of the servants -taking _Mithridanes_ his horse, _Nathan_ rounded the fellow in the -eare, that he should give warning to all throughout the House, for -revealing to the Gentleman, that he was _Nathan_; as accordingly it was -performed. No sooner were they within the Pallace, but he conducted -_Mithridanes_ into a goodly chamber, where none (as yet) had seene him, -but such as were appointed to attend on him reverently; yea, and he did -himselfe greatly honor him, as being loth to leave his company. - -While thus _Mithridanes_ conversed with him, he desired to know -(albeit he respected him much for his yeares) what he was. Introth -Sir, answered _Nathan_, I am one of the meanest servants to _Nathan_, -and from my child-hood, have made my selfe thus olde in his service: -yet never hath he bestowed any other advancement on mee, then as you -now see; in which respect, howsoever other men may commend him, yet -I have no reason at all to do it. These Words, gave some hope to -_Mithridanes_, that with a little more counsell, he might securely put -in execution his wicked determination. _Nathan_ likewise demaunded of -him (but in very humble manner) of whence, and what he was, as also -the businesse inviting him thither: offering him his utmost aide and -counsell, in what soever consisted in his power. - -_Mithridanes_ sat an indifferent while meditating with his thoughts -before he would returne any answer: but at the last, concluding to -repose confidence in him (in regard of his pretended discontentment) -with many circumstantiall perswasions, first for fidelity, next for -constancie, and lastly for counsell and assistance, he declared to him -truly what he was, the cause of his comming thither, and the reason -urging him thereto. _Nathan_ hearing these words, and the detestable -deliberation of _Mithridanes_, became quite changed in himself: yet -wisely making no outward appearance thereof, with a bold courage and -setled countenance, thus he replyed. - -_Mithridanes_, thy Father was a Noble Gentleman, and (in vertuous -qualities) inferiour to none, from whom (as now I see) thou desirest -not to degenerate, having undertaken so bold & high an enterprise, -I meane, in being liberall and bountifull to all men. I do greatly -commend the envy which thou bearest to the vertue of _Nathan_: because -if there were many more such men, the world that is now wretched and -miserable, would become good and conformable. As for the determination -which thou hast disclosed to mee, I have sealed it up secretly in my -soule: wherein I can better give thee counsell, then any especiall -helpe or furtherance: and the course which I would have thee to -observe, followeth thus in few words. - -This window, which we now looke forth at, sheweth thee a small wood -or thicket of trees, being little more then the quarter of a miles -distance hence; whereto _Nathan_ usually walketh every morning, and -there continueth time long enough: there maist thou very easily meet -him, and do whatsoever thou intended to him. If thou kilst him, because -thou maist with safety returne home unto thine owne abiding, take not -the same way which guided thee thither, but another, lying on the -left hand, & directing speedily out of the wood, as being not so much -haunted as the other, but rather free from all resort, and surest for -visiting thine owne countrey, after such a dismall deed is done. - -When _Mithridanes_ had receyved this instruction, and _Nathan_ was -departed from him, hee secretly gave intelligence to his men, (who -likewise were lodged, as welcome strangers, in the same house) at what -place they should stay for him the next morning. Night being passed -over, and _Nathan_ risen, his heart altred not a jot from his counsell -given to _Mithridanes_, much lesse changed from anie part thereof: but -all alone by himselfe, walked on to the wood, the place appointed for -his death. _Mithridanes_ also being risen, taking his Bow & Sword (for -other weapons had he none) mounted on hors-backe, and so came to the -wood, where (somewhat farre off) hee espyed _Nathan_ walking, and no -creature with him. Dismounting from his horse, he had resolved (before -he would kill him) not onely to see, but also to heare him speake: so -stepping roughly to him, and taking hold of the bonnet on his head, -his face being then turned from him, he sayde. Old man, thou must dye. -Whereunto _Nathan_ made no other answer, but thus: Why then (belike) I -have deserved it. - -When _Mithridanes_ heard him speake, and looked advisedly on his face, -he knew him immediatly to be the same man, that had entertained him -so lovingly, conversed with him so familiarly, and counselled him so -faithfully: all which overcomming his former fury, his harsh nature -became meerly confounded with shame: So throwing downe his drawne -sword, which he held readily prepared for the deede: he prostrated -himselfe at _Nathans_ feet, and in teares, spake in this manner. Now -do I manifestly know (most loving Father) your admired bounty and -liberalitie; considering, with what industrious providence, you made -the meanes for your comming hither, prodigally to bestow your life -on me, which I have no right unto, although you were so willing to -part with it. But those high and supreame powers, more carefull of my -dutie, then I my selfe: even at the very instant, and when it was most -needfull, opened the eyes of my better understanding, which infernall -envy had closed up before. And therefore, looke how much you have -bin forward to pleasure me; so much the more shame and punishment, I -confesse my heinous transgression hath justly deserved: take therefore -on me (if you please) such revenge, as you thinke (in justice) -answerable to my sin. - -_Nathan_ lovingly raised _Mithridanes_ from the ground, then kissing -his cheeke, and tenderly embracing him, he said. Sonne, thou needed -not to aske, much lesse to obtaine pardon, for any enterprise of -thine, which thou canst not yet terme to be good or bad: because -thou soughtest not to bereave me of my life, for any hatred thou -barest me, but onely in coveting to be reputed the Woorthier man. -Take then this assurance of me, and beleeve it constantly, that there -is no man living, whom I love and honour, as I do thee: considering -the greatnesse of thy minde, which consisteth not in the heaping up -of money, as wretched and miserable Worldlings make it their onely -felicity; but, contending in bounty to spend what is thine, didst hold -it for no shame to kill me, thereby to make thy selfe so much the more -worthily famous. - -Nor is it any matter to be wondred at, in regard that Emperors, and the -greatest Kings, hadde never made such extendure of their Dominions, and -consequently of their renowne, by any other Art, then killing; yet not -one man onely, as thou wouldst have done: but infinite numbers, burning -whole Countries, and making desolate huge Townes and Cities, onely to -enlarge their dominion, and further spreading of their fame. Wherefore, -if for the increasing of thine owne renowne, thou wast desirous of my -death: it is no matter of novelty, and therefore deserving the lesse -mervaile, seeing men are slaine daily, and all for one purpose or other. - -_Mithridanes_, excusing no further his malevolent deliberation, but -rather commending the honest defence, which _Nathan_ made on his -behalfe; proceeded so farre in after discoursing, as to tel him -plainely, that it did wondrously amaze him, how he durst come to -the fatall appointed place, himselfe having so exactly plotted and -contrived his owne death: whereunto _Nathan_ returned this aunswere. - -I would not have thee _Mithridanes_, to wonder at my counsell or -determination; because, since age hath made mee Maister of mine owne -will, and I resolved to doe that, wherein thou hast begun to follow -me: never came any man to mee, whom I did not content (if I could) in -any thing he demanded of mee. It was thy fortune to come for my life, -which when I saw thee so desirous to have it, I resolved immediately to -bestow it on thee: and so much the rather, because thou shouldst not -be the onely man, that ever departed hence, without enjoying whatsoever -hee demanded. And, to the end thou mightst the more assuredly have it, -I gave thee that advice, least by not enjoying mine, thou shouldest -chance to loose thine owne. I have had the use of it full fourescore -yeares, with the consummation of all my delights and pleasures: and -well I know, that according to the course of Nature (as it fares with -other men, and generally all things else) it cannot bee long before it -must leave mee. - -Wherefore, I hold it much better for me to give it away freely, as I -have alwayes done my goods and treasure; then bee curious in keeping -it, and suffer it to be taken from me (whether I will or no) by Nature. -A small gift it is, if time make me up the full summe of an hundred -yeares: how miserable is it then, to stand beholding but for foure or -five, and all of them vexation too? Take it then I intreate thee, if -thou wilt have it; for I never met with any man before (but thy selfe) -that did desire it, nor (perhaps) shall finde any other to request it: -for the longer I keepe it, the worse it will be esteemed: and before it -grow contemptible, take it I pray thee. - -_Mithridanes_, being exceedingly confounded with shame, bashfully -sayde: Fortune fore-fend, that I should take away a thing so precious -as your life is, or once to have so vile a thought of it as lately I -had; but rather then I would diminish one day thereof, I could wish, -that my time might more amply enlarge it. Forthwith aunswered _Nathan_, -saying. Wouldst thou (if thou couldst) shorten thine owne dayes, onely -to lengthen mine? Why then thou wouldest have me to do that to thee, -which (as yet) I never did unto any man, namely, robbe thee, to enrich -my selfe. I will enstruct thee in a much better course, if thou wilt -be advised by mee. Lusty and young, as now thou art, thou shalt dwell -heere in my house, and be called by the name of _Nathan_. Aged, and -spent with yeares, as thou seest I am, I will goe live in thy house, -and bee called by the name of _Mithridanes_. So, both the name and -place shall illustrate thy Glorie, and I live contentedly, without the -very least thought of envie. - -Deare Father, answered _Mithridanes_, if I knew so well howe to direct -mine owne actions, as you doe, and alwayes have done, I would gladly -accept your most liberall offer: but because I plainlie perceive, that -my very best endeavours, must remayne darkened by the bright renowne of -_Nathan_: I will never seeke to impayre that in another, which I cannot -(by any means) increase in my selfe, but (as you have worthily taught -me) live contented with my owne condition. - -After these, and many more like loving speeches had passed between -them, according as _Nathan_ very instantly requested, _Mithridanes_ -returned back with him to the Pallace, where many dayes he highly -honored & respected him, comforting & counselling him, to persever -alwayes in his honourable determination. But in the end, when -_Mithridanes_ could abide there no longer, because necessary occasions -called him home: he departed thence with his men, having found by good -experience, that hee could never goe beyond _Nathan_ in liberality. - - - - -Signior Gentile de Carisendi, _being come from_ Modena, _took a -Gentlewoman, named Madam_ Catharina, _forth of a grave, wherein she -was buried for dead: which act he did, in regard of his former honest -affection to the said Gentlewoman. Madame_ Catharina _remaining -afterward, and delivered of a goodly Sonne: was (by_ Signior _there_ -Gentile) _delivered to her owne Husband, named_ Signior Nicoluccio -Caccianimico, _and the yong infant with her._ - -The Fourth Novell. - -_Wherein is shewne, That true love hath alwayes bin, and so still is, -the occasion of many great and worthy courtesies._ - - -By judgment of all the honorable assembly, it was reputed wonderfull, -that a man should be so bountifull, as to give away his owne life, -and to his hatefull enemy. In which respect, it passed with generall -affirmation, that _Nathan_ (in the vertue of liberallity) had -exceeded _Alphonso_, King of _Spaine_, but (especially) the Abbot of -_Clugny_. So, after every one had delivered their opinion, the King, -turning himselfe to Madame _Lauretta_, gave her such a signe, as well -instructed her understanding, that she should be the next in order, -whereto she gladly yeelding, began in this manner. - -Youthfull Ladies, the discourses already past, have been so worthy and -magnificent, yea, reaching to such a height of glorious splendour; as -(me thinkes) there remaineth no more matter, for us that are yet to -speake, whereby to enlarge so famous an Argument, and in such manner -as it ought to be: except we lay hold on the actions of love, wherein -is never any want of subject, it is so faire and spacious a field to -walke in. Wherefore, as well in behalfe of the one, as advancement -of the other, whereto our instant age is most of all inclined: I -purpose to acquaint you with a generous and magnificent act, of an -amourous Gentleman, which when it shall be duely considered on, perhaps -will appeare equall to any of the rest. At least, if it may passe -for currant, that men may give away their treasures, forgive mighty -injuries, and lay downe life it selfe, honour and renowne (which is -farre greater) to infinite dangers, only to attaine any thing esteemed -and affected. - -Understand then (Gracious hearers) that in _Bologna_, a very famous -City of _Lombardie_, there lived sometime a Knight, most highly -respected for his vertues, named Signior _Gentile de Carisendi_, who -(in his yonger dayes) was enamoured of a Gentlewoman, called Madam -_Catharina_, the Wife of Signior _Nicoluccio Caccianimico_. And -because during the time of his amourous pursuite, he found but a sorry -enterchange of affection from the Lady; hee went (as hopelesse of any -successe) to be Potestate of _Modena_, whereto he was called by place -and order. - -At the same time, Signior _Nicoluccio_ being absent from _Bologna_, and -his Lady at a Farme-house of his in the Countrey (about three miles -distant from the City) because she was great with child, and somewhat -neere the time of her teeming: it came to passe, that some dangerous -accident befell her, which was so powerfull in operation, as no signe -of life appeared remained in her, but she was reputed (even in the -judgement of the best Phisitians, whereof she wanted no attendance) to -be verily dead. And because in the opinion of her parents and neerest -kinred, the time for her deliverance was yet so farre off, as the -Infant within her, wanted much of a perfect creature: they made the -lesse mourning; but in the next Church, as also the vault belonging to -her Ancestors, they gave her buriall very speedily. - -Which tydings comming to the hearing of Signior _Gentile_, by one that -was his endeared friend: Although (while she lived) he could never be -gracious in her favour, yet her so sudden death did greatly grieve -him, whereupon he discoursed in this sort with himselfe. Deare Madame -_Catharina_, I am not a little sorry for thy death, although (during -thy life-time) I was scarcely worthy of one kind looke: Yet now being -dead, thou canst not prohibite me, but I may robbe thee of a kisse. -No sooner had hee spoke the words, but it beeing then night, and -taking such order, as none might know of his departure: hee mounted on -horse-backe, accompanied onely with one servant, and stayed no where, -till hee came to the vault where the Lady was buried. Which when he had -opened, with instruments convenient for the purpose, he descended downe -into the vault, and kneeled downe by the Beere whereon she lay, and -in her wearing garments, according to the usuall manner, with teares -trickling mainly downe his cheekes, he bestowed infinite sweet kisses -on her. - -But as we commonly see, that mens desires are never contented, but -still will presume on further advantages, especially such as love -entirely: so fared it with _Gentile_, who being once minded to get him -gone, as satisfied with the oblation of his kisses; would needs yet -step backe againe, saying. Why should I not touch her yvory breast, -the Adamant that drew all desires to adore her? Ah let me touch it -now, for never hereafter can I bee halfe so happy. Overcome with this -alluring appetite, gently he laid his hand upon her breast, with the -like awefull respect, as if she were living, and holding it so an -indifferent while: either he felt, or his imagination so perswaded him, -the heart of the Lady to beate and pant. Casting off all fond feare, -and the warmth of his increasing the motion: his inward soule assured -him, that she was not dead utterly, but had some small sense of life -remaining in her, whereof he would needs be further informed. - -So gently as possible he could, and with the helpe of his man, he tooke -her forth of the monument, & laying her softly on his horse before him, -conveighed her closely to his house in _Bologna_. Signior _Gentile_ -had a worthy Lady to his Mother, a woman of great wisdome and vertue, -who understanding by her Sonne, how matters had happened; moved with -compassion, and suffering no one in the house to know what was done, -made a good fire, and very excellent Bathe, which recalled back againe -wrong-wandering life. Then fetching a vehement sigh, opening her eyes, -& looking very strangely about her, she said. Alas! where am I now? -whereto the good old Lady kindly replyed, saying. Comfort your selfe -Madame, for you are in a good place. - -Her spirits being in better manner met together, and she still gazing -every way about her, not knowing well where she was, and seeing Signior -_Gentile_ standing before her: he entreated his mother to tell her by -what meanes she came thither; which the good old Lady did, _Gentile_ -himselfe helping to relate the whole history. A while she grieved -and lamented, but afterward gave them most hearty thankes, humbly -requesting, that, in regard of the love he had formerly borne her, in -his house she might finde no other usage, varying from the honour of -her selfe and her Husband, and when day was come, to be conveighed home -to her owne house. Madame, answered Signior _Gentile_, whatsoever I -sought to gaine from you in former dayes, I never meane, either here, -or any where else, to motion any more. But seeing it hath been my happy -fortune, to prove the blessed means, of reducing you from death to -life: you shall find no other entertainment here, then as if you were -mine owne Sister. And yet the good deed which I have this night done -for you, doth well deserve some courteous requitall: in which respect, -I would have you not to deny me one favour, which I will presume to -crave of you. Whereto the Lady lovingly replyed, that she was willing -to grant it; provided, it were honest, and in her power: whereto -Signior _Gentile_ thus answered. - -Madame, your parents, kindred and friends, and generally all throughout -_Bologna_, doe verily thinke you to be dead, wherefore there is not any -one, that will make any inquisition after you: in which regard, the -favour I desire from you, is no more but to abide here secretly with -my Mother, untill such time as I returne from _Modena_, which shall -be very speedily. The occasion why I move this motion, aymeth at this -end, that in presence of the chiefest persons of our City, I may make -a gladsome present of you to your Husband. The Lady knowing her selfe -highly beholding to the Knight, and the request he made to be very -honest: disposed her selfe to doe as he desired (although she earnestly -longed, to glad her parents and kindred with seeing her alive) and -made her promise him on her faith, to effect it in such manner, as he -pleased to appoint and give her direction. - -Scarcely were these words concluded, but she felt the custome of women -to come upon her, with the paines and throwes incident to childing: -wherefore, with helpe of the aged Lady, Mother to Signior _Gentile_, it -was not long before her deliverance of a goodly Sonne, which greatly -augmented the joy of her and _Gentile_, who tooke order, that all -things belonging to a Woman in such a case, were not wanting, but she -was as carefully respected, even as if she had been his owne Wife. -Secretly he repaired to _Modena_, where having given direction for his -place of authority; he returned back againe to _Bologna_, and there -made preparation for a great and solemne feast, appointing who should -be his invited guests, the very chiefest persons in _Bologna_, and -(among them) Signior _Nicoluccio Caccianimico_ the especiall man. - -After he was dismounted from horsebacke, and found so good company -attending for him (the Lady also, more faire and healthful then ever, -and the Infant lively disposed) he sate downe at the Table with his -guests, causing them to be served in most magnificent manner, with -plenty of all delicates that could be devised, and never before was -there such a Joviall feast. About the ending of dinner, closely he made -the Lady acquainted with his further intention, and likewise in what -order every thing should be done, which being effected, he returned to -his company, & used these speeches. - -Honourable friends, I remember a discourse sometime made unto me, -concerning the Countrey of _Persia_, and a kind of custome there -observed, not to be misliked in mine opinion. When any one intended -to honour his friend in effectuall manner, he invited him home to his -house, and there would shew him the thing, which with greatest love -he did respect; were it Wife, Friend, Sonne, Daughter, or any thing -else whatsoever; wherewithall hee spared not to affirme, that as he -shewed him those choyce delights, the like view he should have of his -heart, if with any possibility it could be done; and the very same -custome I meane now to observe here in our City. You have vouchsafed -to honour me with your presence, at this poore homely dinner of mine, -and I will welcome you after the _Persian_ manner, in shewing you the -Jewell, which (above all things else in the world) I ever have most -respectively esteemed. But before I doe it, I crave your favourable -opinions in a doubt, which I will plainely declare unto you. - -If any man having in his house a good and faithfull servant, who -falling into extremity of sickenesse, shall be throwne forth into -the open street, without any care or pitty taken on him; A stranger -chanceth to passe by, and (moved with compassion of his weakenesse) -carryeth him home to his owne house, where using all charitable -diligence, and not sparing any cost, he recovereth the sicke person to -his former health. I now desire to know, if keeping the said restored -person, and imploying him about his owne businesse: the first Master -(by pretending his first right) may lawfully complaine of the second, -and yeeld him backe againe to the first master, albeit he doe make -challenge of him? - -All the Gentlemen, after many opinions passing among them, agreed -altogether in one sentence, and gave charge to Signior _Nicoluccio -Caccianimico_, (because he was an excellent and elegant speaker) to -give answere for them all. First, he commended the custome observed in -_Persia_, saying, he jumpt in opinion with all the rest, that the first -Master had no right at all to the servant, having not onely (in such -necessity) forsaken him, but also cast him forth into the comfortlesse -street. But for the benefits and mercy extended to him; it was more -then manifest, that the recovered person, was become justly servant to -the second Master, and in detayning him from the first, hee did not -offer him any injury at all. The whole Company sitting at the Table -(being all very wise & worthy men) gave their verdict likewise with -the confession of Signior _Nicoluccio Caccianimico_. Which answere -did not a little please the Knight; and so much the rather, because -_Nicoluccio_ had pronounced it, affirming himselfe to be of the same -minde. - -So, sitting in a pretended musing a while, at length he said. My -honourable guests, it is now more then high time, that I should doe -you such honour, as you have most justly deserved, by performing the -promise made unto you. Then calling two of his servants, he sent -them to Madame _Catharina_ (whom he had caused to adorne her self -in excellent manner) entreating her, that she would be pleased to -grace his guests with her presence. _Catharina_, having deckt her -child in costly habiliments, layed it in her armes, and came with -the servants into the dyning Hall, and sate down (as the Knight had -appointed) at the upper end of the Table, and then Signior _Gentile_ -spake thus. Behold, worthy Gentlemen, this is the Jewell which I have -most affected, and intend to love none other in the world; be you my -Judges, whether I have just occasion to doe so, or no? The Gentlemen -saluting her with respective reverence, said to the Knight; that he had -great reason to affect her: And viewing her advisedly, many of them -thought her to be the very same woman (as indeed she was) but that they -beleeved her to be dead. - -But above all the rest _Nicoluccio Caccianimico_ could never be -satisfied with beholding her; and, enflamed with earnest desire, to -know what she was, could not refraine (seeing the Knight was gone out -of the roome) but demaunded of her, whether she were of _Bologna_, or a -stranger? when the Lady heard her selfe to be thus questioned, and by -her Husband, it seemed painefull to her, to containe from answering: -Neverthelesse, to perfect the Knights intended purpose, she sate -silent. Others demaunded of her, whether the sweet Boy were hers, or -no; and some questioned, if she were _Gentiles_ Wife, or no, or else -his Kinsewoman; to all which demaunds, she returned not any answere. -But when the Knight came to them againe, some of them said to him. Sir, -this woman is a goodly creature, but she appeareth to be dumbe, which -were great pitty, if it should be so. Gentlemen (quoth he) it is no -small argument of her vertue, to sit still and silent at this instant. -Tell us then (said they) of whence, and what she is. Therein (quoth -he) I will quickely resolve you, upon your conditionall promise: that -none of you do remove from his place, whatsoever shall be said or done, -untill I have fully delivered my minde. Every one bound himselfe by -solemne promise, to perform what he had appointed, and the Tables being -voided, as also the Carpets laid; then the Knight (sitting downe by the -Lady) thus began. - -Worthy Gentlemen, this Lady is that true and faithfull servant, whereof -I moved the question to you, whom I tooke out of the cold street, -where her parents, kindred and friends (making no account at all of -her) threw her forth, as a thing vile and unprofitable. Neverthelesse, -such hath been my care and cost, that I have rescued her out of -deaths griping power; and, in a meere charitable disposition, which -honest affection caused me to beare her; of a body, full of terror -& affrighting (as then she was) I have caused her to become thus -lovely as you see. But because you may more apparantly discerne, in -what manner this occasion happened; I will lay it open to you in more -familiar manner. Then he began the whole history, from the originall of -his unbeseeming affection to her (in regard she was a worthy mans wife) -and consequently, how all had happened to the instant houre, to the -no meane admiration of all the hearers, adding withall. Now Gentlemen -(quoth he) if you varry not from your former opinion, and especially -Signior _Nicoluccio Caccianimico_: this Lady (by good right) is mine, -and no man else, by any just title, can lay any claime to her. - -All sate silent, without answering one word, as expecting what he -intended further to say: but in the meane while, _Nicoluccio_, the -parents and kindred, but chiefely the Lady her selfe, appeared as halfe -melted into teares with weeping. But Signior _Gentile_, starting up -from the Table, taking the Infant in his arme, and leading the Lady by -the hand, going to _Nicoluccio_, thus spake. Rise Sir, I will not give -thee thy wife, whom both her kindred and thine, threw forth into the -street: but I will bestow this Lady on thee, being my Gossip, and this -sweet Boy my God-sonne, who was (as I am verily perswaded) begotten by -thee, I standing witnesse for him at the Font of Baptisme, and give him -mine owne name _Gentile_. Let me entreat thee, that, although she hath -lived here in mine house, for the space of three monethes, she should -not be lesse welcome to thee, then before: for I sweare to thee upon -my soule, that my former affection to her (how unjust soever) was the -onely meanes of preserving her life: and more honestly she could not -live, with Father, Mother, or thy selfe, then she hath done here with -mine owne Mother. - -Having thus spoken, he turned to the Lady, saying. Madame, I now -discharge you of all promises made me, delivering you to your Husband -franke and free: And when he had given him the Lady, and the child -in his armes, he returned to his place, and sate downe againe. -_Nicoluccio_, with no meane joy and hearty contentment received both -his wife and childe, being before farre from expectation of such an -admirable comfort; returning the Knight infinite thankes (as all the -rest of the Company did the like) who could not refraine from weeping -for meere joy, for such a strange and wonderfull accident: everyone -highly commending _Gentile_, & such also as chanced to heare thereof. -The Lady was welcommed home to her owne house, with many moneths of -Joviall feasting, and as she passed through the streets, all beheld her -with admiration, to be so happily recovered from her grave. Signior -_Gentile_ lived long after, a loyall friend to _Nicoluccio_ and his -Lady, and all that were well-willers to them. - -What thinke you now Ladies? Can you imagine, because a King gave away -his Crowne and Scepter; and an Abbot (without any cost to himselfe) -reconciled a Malefactor to the Pope; and an old idle-headed man, -yeelding to the mercy of his enemy: that all those actions are -comparable to this of Signior _Gentile_? Youth and ardent affection, -gave him a just and lawfull title, to her who was free (by imagined -death) from Husbands, Parents, and all friends else, she being -so happily wonne into his owne possession. Yet honesty not onely -over-swayed the heate of desire, which in many men is violent and -immoderate: but with a bountifull and liberall soule, that which he -coveted beyond all hopes else, and had within his owne command; he -freely gave away. Beleeve me (bright Beauties) not any of the other (in -a true and unpartiall judgement) are worthy to be equalled with this, -or stiled by the name of magnificent actions. - - - - -_Madame_ Dianora, _the Wife of Signior_ Gilberto, _being immodestly -affected by Signior_ Ansaldo, _to free herselfe from his tedious -importunity, she appointed him to performe (in her judgement) an act -of impossibility, namely, to give her a Garden, as plentifully stored -with fragrant Flowers in January, as in the flourishing moneth of_ May. -Ansaldo, _by meanes of a bond which he made to a Magitian, performed -her request. Signior_ Gilberto, _the Ladyes Husband, gave consent, that -his Wife should fulfill her promise made to_ Ansaldo. _Who hearing the -bountifull mind of her Husband; released her of her promise: And the -Magitian likewise discharged Signior_ Ansaldo, _without taking any -thing of him._ - -The fift Novell. - -_Admonishing all Ladies and Gentlewomen, that are desirous to preserve -their chastity, free from all blemish and taxation: to make no promise -of yeelding to any, under a compact or covenant, how impossible soever -it may seeme to be._ - - -Not any one in all the Company, but extolled the worthy Act of Signior -_Gentile_ to the skies; till the King gave command to Madame _Æmillia_, -that she should follow next with her Tale, who boldly stepping up, -began in this order. - -Gracious Ladies, I thinke there is none heere present among us, but -(with good reason) may maintaine, that Signiour _Gentile_ performed a -magnificent deede: but whosoever saith, it is impossible to do more; -perhaps is ignorant in such actions, as can and may be done, as I meane -to make good unto you, by a Novell not over-long or tedious. - -The Countrey of _Fretulium_, better knowne by the name of _Forum -Julii_; although it be subject to much cold, yet it is pleasant, in -regard of many goodly Mountaines, Rivers, and cleare running Springs, -wherewith it is not meanly stored. Within those Territories, is a City -called _Udina_, where sometime lived a faire and Noble Lady, named -Madame _Dianora_, Wife to a rich and woorthie Knight, called Signior -_Gilberto_, a man of very great fame and merite. - -This beautifull** Lady, beeing very modest and vertuously inclined, was -highly affected by a Noble Baron of those parts, tearmed by the name -of Signior _Ansaldo Gradense_, a man of very great spirit, bountifull, -active in Armes, and yet very affable and courteous, which caused him -to be the better respected. His love to this Lady was extraordinary, -hardly to bee contained within any moderate compasse, striving to bee -in like manner affected of her: to which end, she wanted no daily -solicitings, Letters, Ambassages and Love-tokens, all proving to no -purpose. - -This vertuous Lady, being wearied with his often temptations, and -seeing, that by denying whatsoever he demanded, yet he wold not give -over his suite, but so much the more importunatly still pursued her: -began to bethinke herselfe, how she might best be rid of him, by -imposing some such taske upon him, as should bee impossible (in her -opinion) for him to effect. An olde woman, whom hee imployed for his -continual messenger to her, as shee came one day about her ordinary -errand, with her she communed in this manner. Good woman (quoth she) -thou hast so often assured me, that Signior _Ansaldo_ loveth me above -all other Women in the world, offering me wonderfull gifts and presents -in his name, which I have alwayes refused, and so still will do, in -regard I am not to be woon by any such allurements: yet if I could be -soundly perswaded, that his affection is answerable to thy peremptory -protestations, I shoulde (perhaps) be the sooner wonne, to listen to -his suite in milder manner, then hitherto I have done. Wherefore, if he -will give me assurance, to perform such a businesse as I mean to enjoyne -him, he shall the speedier heare better answer from me, and I will -confirme it with mine oath. - -Wonderfully pleased was Mistresse _Maquerella_, to heare a reply of -such comfortable hope; and therefore desired the Lady, to tel hir what -she wold have done. Listen to me wel (answerd Madam _Dianora_) the -matter which I would have him to effect for me, is; without the wals of -our City, and during the month of Januarie nexte ensuing, to provide me -a Garden, as fairely furnished with all kind of fragrant flowers, as -the flourishing month of May can yeelde no better. If he be not able -to accomplish this imposition, then I command him, never hereafter to -solicite me any more, either by thee, or any other whatsoever; for, -if he do importune me afterward, as hitherto I have concealed his -secret conspiring, both from my husband, and all my friends; so will -I then lay his dishonest suite open to the world, that he may receive -punishment accordingly, for offering to wrong a Gentleman in his wife. - -When Signior _Ansaldo_ heard her demand, and the offer beside -thereupon** made him (although it seemed no easie matter; but a thing -meerly impossible to be done) he considered advisedly, that she made -this motion to no other end, but onely to bereave him of all his hope, -ever to enjoy what so earnestly hee desired: neverthelesse, he would -not so give it utterly over, but would needs approve what could be -done. Heereupon, hee sent into divers partes of the world, to find out -any one that was able to advise him in this doubtfull case. In the end, -one was brought to him, who beeing well recompenced for his paines, -by the Art of Nigromancie would undertake to do it. With him Signior -_Ansaldo_ covenanted, binding himselfe to pay a great summe of mony, -upon performance of so rare a deed, awaiting (in hopefull expectation) -for the month of Januaries comming. - -It being come, and the weather then in extreamity of cold, every thing -being covered with ice and snow; the Magitian prevailed so by his -Art, that after the Christmas Holy dayes were past, and the Calends -of January entred: in one night, and without the Cittie Wals, the -goodliest Garden of flowers and fruites, was sodainely sprung up, as -(in opinion of such as beheld it) never was the like seen before. -Now Ladies, I think I need not demand the question, whether Signior -_Ansaldo_ were wel pleased, or no, who going to beholde it, saw it most -plenteously stored, with al kind of fruit trees, flowers, herbes and -plants, as no one could be named, that was wanting in this artificiall -garden. And having gathered some pretty store of them, secretly he sent -them to Madam _Dianora_, inviting hir to come see her Garden, perfected -according to her owne desire, and uppon view thereof, to confesse the -integrity of his love to her; considering and remembring withall, the -promise shee had made him under solemne oath, that she might be reputed -for a woman of her word. - -When the Lady beheld the fruites and flowers, and heard many other -thinges re-counted, so wonderfully growing in the same Garden: she -began to repent her rash promise made; yet not withstanding her -repentance, as Women are covetous to see all rarities; so, accompanied -with divers Ladies and Gentlewomen more, she went to see the Garden; -and having commended it with much admiration, she returned home againe, -the most sorrowfull Woman as ever lived, considering what she had tyed -her selfe to, for enjoying this Garden. So excessive grew her griefe -and affliction, that it could not be so clouded or concealed: but her -Husband tooke notice of it, and would needs understand the occasion -thereof. Long the Lady (in regard of shame and modesty) sate without -returning any answer; but being in the end constrained, she disclosd -the whole History to him. - -At the first, Signior _Gilberto_ waxed exceeding angry, but when he -further considered withall, the pure and honest intention of his Wife; -wisely he pacified his former distemper, and saide. _Dianora_, it is -not the part of a wise and honest woman, to lend an eare to ambassages -of such immodest nature, much lesse to compound or make agreement for -her honesty, with any person, under any condition whatsoever. Those -perswasions which the heart listeneth to, by allurement of the eare, -have greater power then many do imagine, & nothing is so uneasie -or difficult, but in a lovers judgement it appeareth possible. Ill -didst thou therefore first of all to listen, but worse (afterward) to -contract. - -But, because I know the purity of thy soule, I will yeelde (to disoblige -thee of thy promise) as perhaps no wise man else would do: mooved -thereto onely by feare of the Magitian, who seeing Signior _Ansaldo_ -displeased, because thou makest a mockage of him; will do some such -violent wrong to us, as we shall be never able to recover. Wherefore, -I would have thee go to Signior _Ansaldo_, and if thou canst (by -any meanes) obtaine of him, the safe-keeping of thy honour, and full -discharge of thy promise; it shall be an eternall fame to thee, and -the crowne of a most victorious conquest. But if it must needs be -otherwise, lend him thy body onely for once, but not thy will: for -actions committed by constraint, wherein the will is no way guilty, are -halfe pardonable by the necessity. - -Madame _Dianora_, hearing her husbands words, wept exceedingly, and -avouched, that shee had not deserved any such especiall grace of him, -and therefore she would rather dye, then doe it. Neverthelesse, it was -the will of her Husband to have it so, and therefore (against her will) -she gave consent. The next morning, by the breake of day, _Dianora_ -arose, and attiring her selfe in her very meanest garments, with two -servingmen before her, and a waiting Woman following, she went to the -lodging of Signior _Ansaldo_, who hearing that Madam _Dianora_ was -come to visite him, greatly mervailed, and being risen, he called the -Magitian to him, saying. Come go with me, and see what effect will -follow upon thine Art. And being come into her presence, without any -base or inordinate appetite, he did her humble reverence, embracing her -honestly, and taking her into a goodly Chamber, where a faire fire was -readilie prepared, causing her to sit downe by him, he sayde unto her -as followeth. - -Madam, I humbly intreat you to resolve me, if the affection I have long -time borne you, and yet do still, deserve any recompence at all: you -would be pleased then to tel me truly, the occasion of your instant -comming hither, and thus attended as you are. _Dianora_, blushing with -modest shame, and the teares trickling mainly down her faire cheekes, -thus answered. Signior _Ansaldo_, not for any Love I beare you, or care -of my faithfull promise made to you, but onely by the command of my -husband (who respecting more the paynes and travels of your inordinate -love, then his owne reputation and honor, or mine;) hath caused me to -come hither: and by vertue of his command, am ready (for once onely) to -fulfill your pleasure, but far from any will or consent in my selfe. -If Signior _Ansaldo_ were abashed at the first, hee began now to be -more confounded with admiration, when he heard the Lady speake in such -strange manner: & being much moved with the liberall command of her -husband, he began to alter his inflamed heate, into most honourable -respect and compassion, returning her this answer. - -Most noble Lady, the Gods forbid (if it be so as you have sayd) that I -should (Villain-like) soile the honour of him, that takes such unusuall -compassion of my unchaste appetite. And therefore, you may remaine -heere so long as you please, in no other condition, but as mine owne -naturall borne Sister; and likewise, you may depart freely when you -will: conditionally, that (on my behalfe) you render such thankes to -your husband, as you thinke convenient for his great bounty towards me, -accounting me for ever heereafter, as his loyall Brother and faithfull -servant. _Dianora_ having well observed his answer, her heart being -ready to mount out at her mouth with joy, said. All the world could -never make mee beleeve (considering your honourable minde and honesty) -that it would happen otherwise to me, then now it hath done; for which -noble courtesie, I will continually remaine obliged to you. So, taking -her leave, she returned home honorably attended to her husband, and -relating to him what had happened, it proved the occasion of begetting -intire love and friendship, betweene himselfe and the Noble Lord -_Ansaldo_. - -Now concerning the skilfull Magitian, to whom _Ansaldo_ meant to -give the bountifull recompence agreed on betweene them, hee having -seene the strange liberality, which the husband expressed to Signior -_Ansaldo_, and that of _Ansaldo_ to the Lady, hee presently saide. -Great _Jupiter_ strike me dead with thunder, having my selfe seene a -husband so liberall of his honour, and you Sir of true noble kindnesse, -if I should not be the like of my recompence: for, perceiving it to -be so worthily imployed, I am well contented that you shall keepe it. -The Noble Lord was modestly ashamed, and strove (so much as in him -lay) that he should take all, or the greater part thereof: but seeing -he laboured meerly in vaine, after the third day was past, and the -Magitian had destroyed the Garden againe, hee gave him free liberty to -depart, quite controlling all fond and unchaste affection in himselfe, -either towards _Dianora_, or any Lady else, and living (ever after) as -best becommeth any Nobleman to do. - -What say you now Ladies? Shall wee make any account of the woman -wel-neere dead, and the kindnesse growne cold in Signiour _Gentile_, -by losse of his former hopes, comparing them with the liberality of -Signior _Ansaldo_, affecting more fervently, then ever the other did? -And being (beyond hope) possessed of the booty, which (above all things -else in the world) he most desired to have, to part with it meerly -in fond compassion? I protest (in my judgement) the one is no way -comparable to the other; that of _Gentile_, with this last of Signior -_Ansaldo_. - - - - -_Victorious_ King Charles, _sirnamed the Aged, and first of that Name, -fell in love with a yong Maiden, named_ Genevera, _daughter to an -ancient Knight, called Signior_ Neri degli Uberti. _And waxing ashamed -of his amorous folly, caused both_ Genevera, _and her fayre Sister_ -Isotta, _to be joyned in marriage with two Noble Gentlemen; the one -named_ Signior Maffeo da Palizzi, _and the other,_ Signior Gulielmo -della Magna. - -The Sixt Novell. - -_Sufficiently declaring, that how mighty soever the power of Love is: -yet a magnanimous and truly generous heart, it can by no meanes fully -conquer._ - - -Who is able to expresse ingeniously, the diversity of opinions, which -hapned among the Ladies, in censuring on the act of Madame _Dianora_, -and which of them was most liberall, either Signior _Gilberto_ the -Husband, Lord _Ansaldo_ the importunate suiter, or the Magitian, -expecting to bee bountifully rewarded. Surely, it is a matter beyond -my capacity: but after the King had permitted their disputation a long -while, looking on Madam _Fiammetta_, he commanded that she should -report her Novel to make an end of their controversie; and she (without -any further delaying) thus began. I did alwaies (Noble Ladies) hold -it fit and decent, that in such an assembly as this of ours is, every -one ought to speake so succinctly and plainly: that the obscure -understanding, concerning the matters spoken of, should have no cause -of disputation. For disputes do much better become the Colledges of -Scholars, then to be among us, who hardly can manage our Distaves -or Samplers. And therefore I, doe intend to relate something, which -(peradventure) might appeare doubtfull: will forbeare (seeing you in -such a difference; for that which hath bin spoken alreadie) to use any -difficult discourse; but will speake of one, a man of no meane ranke -or quality, being both a valiant and vertuous King, and what he did, -without any impeach or blemish to his honor. - -I make no doubt, but you have often heard report, of king _Charles_ the -Aged, and first of that name, by reason of his magnificent enterprises, -as also his most glorious victory, which he obtaind against King -_Manfred_, when the _Ghibellines_ were expulsed foorth of _Florence_, -and the _Guelphes_ returned thither againe. By which occasion, an -ancient knight, named Signior _Neri degli Uberti_; forsaking then the -City, with all his family and great store of wealth, woulde live under -any other obedience, then the awful power or command of King _Charles_. -And coveting to be in some solitary place, where he might finish the -remainder of his dayes in peace, he went to _Castello da Mare_; where, -about a Bow shoote distance from all other dwelling houses, hee bought -a parcel of ground, plentifully stored with variety of Trees, bearing -Olives, Chesnuts, Orenges, Lemons, Pomcitrons, and other excellent -frutages, wherewith the Countrey flourisheth abundantly. There he -built a very faire and commodious house, and planted (close by it) a -pleasant Garden, in the middst whereof, because he had great plenty of -water: according as other men use to do, being in the like case so wel -provided; he made a very goodly Pond, which forthwith had all kinde of -Fish swimming in it, it being his daily care and endeavour**, to tend his -Garden, and encrease his Fish-pond. - -It fortuned, that King _Charles_ (in the Summer time) for his pleasure -and recreation, went to repose himselfe (for some certayne dayes) -at _Castello de Mare_, where having heard report of the beautie and -singularitie of Signiour _Neries_ Garden; hee grew very desirous to -see it. But when he understoode to whome it belonged, then he entred -into consideration with himselfe, that hee was an ancient Knight, -maintaining a contrarie faction to his: wherefore, he thought it -fit to goe in some familiar manner, and with no trayne attending on -him. Whereupon he sent him word, that he wold come to visit him, with -foure Gentlemen onely in his companie, meaning to sup with him in his -Garden the next night ensuing. The newes was very welcome to _Signior -Neri_, who took order in costly manner for all things to bee done, -entertaining the King most joyfully into his beautifull Garden. - -When the King had survayed all, and the house likewise, he commended -it beyond all other comparison, and the Tables being placed by the -Ponds side, he washed his hands therein, & then sat down at the table, -commanding the Count, Sir _Guy de Montforte_ (who was one of them which -came in his company) to sitte downe by him, and Signior _Neri_ on his -other side. As for the other three of the traine, hee commaunded them -to attend on his service, as Signior _Neri_ had given order. There -wanted no exquisite Viandes and excellent Wines, all performed in most -decent manner, and without the least noise or disturbance, wherein the -King tooke no little delight. - -Feeding thus in this contented manner, and facying the solitude of the -place: sodainly entred into the garden, two yong Damosels, each aged -about some fifteene yeares, their haire resembling wyars of Gold, and -curiously curled, having Chaplets (made like provinciall Crownes) on -their heades, and their delicate faces, expressing them to be rather -Angels, then mortall creatures, such was the appearance of their -admired beauty. Their under-garments were of costly Silke, yet white as -the finest snow, framed (from the girdle upward) close to their bodies, -but spreading largely downward, like the extendure of a Pavillion, and -so descending to the feet. She that first came in sight, caried on her -shoulder a couple of fishing Netts, which she held fast with her left -hand, and in the right she carryed a long staffe. The other following -her, had on her left shoulder a Frying-pan, and under the same arme a -small Faggot of woodde, with a Trevit in her hand; and in the other -hand a pot of Oyle, as also a brand of fire flaming. - -No sooner did the King behold them, but he greatly wondered what they -should be; and, without uttering one word, attended to listen what they -wold say. Both the yong damosels, when they were come before the King, -with modest and bashfull gesture, they performed very humble reverence -to him, and going to the place of entrance into the Pond, she who held -the Trevit, set it downe on the ground, with the other things also; and -taking the staffe which the other Damosell carried: they both went into -the Pond, the water whereof reached so high as to their bosomes. One of -the Servants to Signior _Neri_, presently kindled the fire, setting the -Trevit over it, and putting Oyle into the Frying-panne, held it uppon -the Trevit, awaiting untill the Damosels should cast him uppe Fish. One -of them did beate a place with the staffe, where she was assured of the -Fishes resort, and the other hadde lodged the Nets so conveniently, as -they quickly caught great store of Fish, to the Kings high contentment, -who observed their behaviour very respectively. - -As the Fishes were throwne up to the servant, alive as they were, he -tooke the best and fairest of them, and brought them to the Table, -where they skipt and mounted before the King, Count _Guy de Montfort_ -and the Father: some leaping from the Table into the Pond againe, and -others, the King (in a pleasing humour) voluntarily threw backe to -the Damosels. Jesting and sporting in this manner, till the servant -had drest divers of them in exquisite order, and served them to the -Table, according as Signior _Neri_ had ordained. When the Damosels -saw the Fishes service performed, and perceived that they had fished -sufficiently: they came forth of the water, their garments then (being -wet) hanging close about them, even as if they hid no part of their -bodies. Each having taken those things againe, which at first they -brought with them, and saluting the king in like humility as they did -before, returned home to the mansion house. - -The King and Count likewise, as also the other attending Gentlemen, -having duely considered the behavior of the Damosels: commended -extraordinarily their beauty and faire feature, with those other -perfections of Nature so gloriously shining in them. But (beyond -all the rest) the King was boundlesse in his praises given of them, -having observed their going into the water, the equall carriage there -of them both, their comming forth, and gracious demeanor at their -departing (yet neither knowing of whence, or what they were) he felt -his affection very violently flamed, and grew into such an amourous -desire to them both, not knowing which of them pleased him most, they -so choisely resembled one another in all things. - -But after he had dwelt long enough upon these thoughts, he turned -him selfe to Signior _Neri_, and demanded of him, what Damosels they -were. Sir (answered _Neri_) they are my Daughters, both brought into -the world at one birth, and Twinnes, the one being named _Genevera_ -the faire, and the other _Isotta_ the amiable. The King began againe -to commend them both, and gave him advise to get them both married: -wherein he excused himselfe, alleadging, that he wanted power to doe -it. At the same time instant, no other service remaining to be brought -to the table, except Fruit and Cheese, the two Damosels returned -againe, attyred in goodly Roabes of Carnation Sattin, formed after -the Turkish fashion, carrying two fayre Silver dishes in their hands, -filled with divers delicate Fruits, such as the season then afforded, -setting them on the Table before the King. Which being done, they -retyred a little backeward, and with sweet melodious voyces, sung a -ditty, beginning in this manner. - - _Where Love presumeth into place: - Let no one sing in Loves disgrace._ - -So sweet and pleasing seemed the Song to the King (who tooke no small -delight, both to heare and behold the Damosels) even as if all the -Hirarchies of Angels, were descended from the Heavens to sing before -him. No sooner was the Song ended, but (humbly on their knees) they -craved favour of the King for their departing. Now, although their -departure was greatly grieving to him, yet (in outward appearance) he -seemed willing to grant it. - -When Supper was concluded, and the King and his Company remounted -on horsebacke: thankefully departing from Signior _Neri_, the King -returned to his lodging, concealing there closely his affection to -himselfe, and whatsoever important affaires happened: yet he could -not forget the beauty, & gracious behaviour of _Genevera_ the faire -(for whose sake he loved her Sister likewise) but became so linked to -her in vehement manner, as he had no power to think on any thing else. -Pretending other urgent occasions, he fell into great familiarity with -Signior _Neri_, visiting very often his goodly Garden; onely to see his -faire Daughter _Genevera_, the Adamant which drew him thither. - -When he felt his amourous assaults, to exeed all power of longer -sufferance: he resolved determinately with himselfe, (being unprovided -of any better meanes) to take her away from her Father, and not onely -she, but her Sister also; discovering both his love and intent to Count -_Guy de Montforte_, who being a very worthy and vertuous Lord, and meet -to be a Counseller for a King, delivered his mind in this manner. - -Gracious Lord, I wonder not a little at your speeches, and so much -the greater is my admiration, because no man els can be subject to -the like, in regard I have knowne you from the time of your infancy; -even to this instant houre, and alwayes your carriage to bee one and -the same. I could never perceive in your youthfull dayes (when love -should have the greatest meanes to assaile you) any such oppressing -passions: which is now the more novell and strange to me, to heare it -but said, that you being old, and called the Aged; should be growne -amorous, surely to me it seemeth a miracle. And if it appertained to -me to reprehend you in this case, I know well enough what I could say. -Considering, you have yet your Armour on your backe, in a Kingdome -newly conquered, among a Nation not knowne to you, full of falsehoods, -breaches, and treasons; all which are no meane motives to care and -needfull respect. But having now wone a little leisure, to rest your -selfe a while from such serious affaires; can you give way to the -idle suggestions of Love? Beleeve me Sir, it is no act becomming a -magnanimious King; but rather the giddy folly of a young braine. - -Moreover you say (which most of all I mislike) that you intend to take -the two Virgines from the Knight, who hath given you entertainment in -his house beyond his ability, and to testifie how much he honoured you, -he suffered you to have a sight of them, meerely (almost) in a naked -manner: witnessing thereby, what constant faith he reposed in you, -beleeving verily, that you were a just King, and not a ravenous Woolfe. -Have you so soone forgot, that the rapes and violent actions, done by -King _Manfred_ to harmelesse Ladies, made your onely way of entrance -into this Kingdome? What treason was ever committed, more worthy of -eternall punishment, then this will be in you: to take away from him -(who hath so highly honoured you) his chiefest hope and consolation? -What will be said by all men, if you doe it? - -Peradventure you thinke, it will be a sufficient excuse for you, to -say: I did it, in regard hee was a _Ghibelline_. Can you imagine this -to be justice in a King, that such as get into their possession in this -manner (whatsoever it be) ought to use it in this sort? Let me tell you -Sir, it was a most worthy victory for you, to conquer King _Manfred_: -but it is farre more famous victory, for a man to conquer himselfe. -You therefore, who are ordained to correct vices in other men, learne -first to subdue them in your selfe, and (by brideling this inordinate -appetite) set not a foule blemish on so faire a fame, as will be honour -to you to preserve spotlesse. - -These words pierced the heart of the King deepely, and so much the more -afflicted him, because he knew them to be most true: wherefore, after -he had ventred a very vehement sigh, thus he replyed. Beleeve me noble -Count, there is not any enemy, how strong soever he be, but I hold him -weake and easie to be vanquished, by him who is skilfull in the warre, -where a man may learne to conquere his owne appetite. But because he -shall find it a laborious taske, requiring inestimable strength and -courage: your words have so toucht me to the quicke, that it becommeth -me to let you effectually perceive (and within the compasse of few -dayes) that as I have learned to conquer others, so I am not ignorant, -in expressing the like power upon my selfe. - -Having thus spoken, within some few dayes after, the King being -returned to _Naples_, he determined, as well to free himself from any -the like ensuing follie, as also to recompence Signior _Neri_, for the -great kindnesse he had shewne to him (although it was a difficult -thing, to let another enjoy, what he rather desired for himselfe) -to have the two Damosels married, not as the Daughters of Signior -_Neri_, but even as if they were his owne. And by consent of the -Father, he gave _Genevera_ the faire, to Signior _Maffeo da Pallizzi_, -and _Isotta_ the amiable, to Signior _Gulielmo della Magna_, two -Noble Knights and honourable Barons. After he had thus given them in -marriage, in sad mourning he departed thence into _Apuglia_, where -by following worthy and honourable actions, he so well overcame all -inordinate appetites: that shaking off the enthralling fetters of love, -he lived free from all passions, the rest of his life time, and dyed as -an honourable King. - -Some perhaps will say, it was a small matter for a King, to give away -two Damosels in marriage, and I confesse it: but I maintaine it to be -great, and more then great, if we say, that a King, being so earnestly -enamoured as this King was; should give her away to another, whom he -so dearely affected himselfe, without receiving (in recompence of his -affection) so much as a leaffe, flowre, or the least fruit of love. Yet -such was the vertue of this magnificent King, expressed in so highly -recompencing the noble Knights courtesie, honouring the two daughters -so royally, and conquering his owne affections so vertuously. - - - - -Lisana, _the Daughter of a Florentine Apothecary, named_ Bernardo -Puccino, _being at_ Palermo, _and seeing_ Piero, _King of_ Aragon -_run at the Tilt; fell so affectionately enamored of him, that she -languished in an extreame and long sickenesse. By her owne devise, -and means of a Song, sung in the hearing of the King: he vouchsafed -to visite her, and giving her a kisse, terming himselfe also to bee -her Knight for ever after, hee honourably bestowed her in marriage on -a young Gentleman, who was called_ Perdicano, _and gave him liberall -endowments with her._ - -The Seventh Novell. - -_Wherein is covertly given to understand, that howsoever a Prince may -make use of his absolute power and authority, towards Maides or Wives -that are his Subjects: yet he ought to deny and reject all things, as -shall make him forgetfull of himselfe, and his true honour._ - - -Madame _Fiammetta_ being come to the end of her Novell, and the great -magnificence of King _Charles_ much commended (howbeit, some of the -Company, affecting the _Ghibelline_ faction, were otherwise minded) -Madame _Pampinea_, by order given from the King, began in this manner. - -There is no man of good understanding (honourable Ladies) but will -maintaine what you have said of victorious _Charles_; except such as -cannot wish well to any. But because my memory hath instantly informed -me, of an action (perhaps) no lesse commendable then this, done by -an enemy of the said King _Charles_, and to a yong Maiden of our -City; I am the more willing to relate it, upon your gentle attention -vouchsafed, as hitherto it hath been courteously granted. - -At such time as the French were driven out of _Sicilie_, there dwelt at -_Palermo_ a _Florentine_ Apothecary, named _Bernardo Puccino_, a man of -good wealth and reputation, who had by his Wife one onely Daughter, of -marriageable yeares, and very beautifull. _Piero_, King of _Arragon_, -being then become Lord of that Kingdom, he made an admirable Feast -Royall at _Palermo_, accompanyed with his Lords and Barons. In honour -of which publique Feast, the King kept a triumphall day (of Justs and -Turnament) at _Catalana_, and whereat it chanced, that the Daughter of -_Bernardo_, named _Lisana_, was present. Being in a window, accompanied -with other Gentlewomen, she saw the King runne at the Tilt, who -seemed so goodly a person in her eye; that being never satisfied with -beholding him, she grew enamoured, and fell into extremity of affection -towards him. - -When the Feastivall was ended, she dwelling in the house of her Father, -it was impossible for her to thinke on any thing else, but onely -the love, which she had fixed on a person of such height. And that -which most tormented her in this case, was the knowledge of her owne -condition, being but meane and humble in degree; whereby she confessed, -that she could not hope for any successefull issue of her proud love. -Neverthelesse, she would not refraine from affecting the King, who -taking no note of this kindnesse in her, by any perceivable meanes; -must needs be the more regardles, which procured (by wary observation) -her afflictions to be the greater and intollerable. - -Whereon it came to passe, that this earnest love encreasing in her -more and more, and one melancholly conceit taking hold on another: the -faire Maide, when she could beare the burden of her griefe no longer; -fell into a languishing sickenesse, consuming away daily (by evident -appearance) even as the Snow melteth by the warme beames of the Sunne. - -The Father and Mother, much dismayed and displeased at this haplesse -accident, applying her with continuall comforts, Phisicke, and the best -skill remayning in all the Phisitions, sought all possible meanes wayes -to give her succour: but all proved to no effect, because in regard -of her choyce (which could sort to none other then a desperate end) -she was desirous to live no longer. Now it fortuned, that her parents -offering her whatsoever remained in their power to performe, a sudden -apprehension entred her minde, to wit, that (if it might possible be -done) before she dyed, she would first have the King to know, in what -manner she stood affected to him. Wherefore, one day she entreated her -Father, that a Gentleman, named _Manutio de Arezza_, might be permitted -to come see her. This _Manutio_ was (in those times) held to be a most -excellent Musitian, both for his voyce in singing, and exquisite skill -in playing on Instruments, for which he was highly in favour with King -_Piero_, who made (almost) daily use of him, to heare him both sing and -play. - -Her tender and loving father conceived immediately, that shee was -desirous to heare his playing and singing, both being comfortable to a -body in a languishing sickenesse, whereupon, he sent presently for the -Gentleman, who came accordingly, and after he had comforted _Lisana_ -with kind and courteous speeches; he played dexteriously on his Lute, -which purposely hee had brought with him, and likewise he sung divers -excellent Ditties, which insted of his intended consolation to the -Maid, did nothing else but encrease her fire and flame. - -Afterward, she requested to have some conference with _Manutio_ alone, -and every one being gone forth of the Chamber, she spake unto him in -this manner. - -_Manutio_, I have made choyce of thee, to be the faithfull Guardian of -an especial secret, hoping first of al, that thou wilt never reveale -it to any living body, but onely to him whom I shall bid thee: And -next, to helpe me so much as possibly thou canst, because my onely -hope relyeth in thee. Know then my dearest friend _Manutio_, that on -the solemne festivall day, when our Soveraigne Lord the King honoured -his exaltation, with the noble exercises of Tilt and Turney; his brave -behaviour kindled such a sparke in my soule, as since brake forth into -a violent flame, and brought me to this weake condition as now thou -seest. But knowing and confessing, how farre unbeseeming my love is, to -aime so ambitiously at a King, and being unable to controule it, or in -the least manner to diminish it: I have made choyce of the onely and -best remedy of all, namely, to dye, and so I am most willing to doe. - -True it is, that I shall travaile in this my latest journey, with -endlesse torment and affliction of soule, except he have some -understanding thereof before, and not knowing by whom to give him -intelligence, in so oft and convenient order, as by thee: I doe -therefore commit this last office of a friend to thy trust, desiring -thee, not to refuse me in the performance thereof. And when thou hast -done it, to let me understand what he saith, that I may dye the more -contentedly, and disburdened of so heavy an oppression, the onely -comfort to a parting spirit: and so she ceased, her teares flowing -forth abundantly. - -_Manutio_ did not a little wonder at the Maides great spirit, and her -desperate resolution, which moved him to exceeding commiseration, and -suddenly he conceived, that honestly he might discharge this duty for -her, whereupon, he returned her this answer. _Lisana_, here I engage -my faith to thee, that thou shalt find me firme and constant, and -die I will, rather then deceive thee. Greatly I doe commend thy high -attempt, in fixing thy affection on so Potent a King, wherein I offer -thee my utmost assistance: and I make no doubt (if thou wouldest be of -good comfort) to deale in such sort, as, before three dayes are fully -past, to bring such newes as will content thee, and because I am loath -to loose the least time, I will goe about it presently. _Lisana_ the -yong Maiden, once againe entreated his care and diligence, promising -to comfort her selfe so well as she could, commending him to his good -fortune. When _Manutio_ was gone from her, hee went to a Gentleman, -named _Mico de Sienna_, one of the best Poets in the composing of -verses, as all those parts yeelded not the like. At his request, _Mico_ -made for him this ensuing Dittie. - - -The Song sung in the hearing of King _Piero_, on the behalfe of -Love-sicke _Lisana._ - - - _Goe Love, and tell the torments I endure, - Say to my Soveraigne Lord, that I must die - Except he come, some comfort to procure, - For tell I may not, what I feele, and why._ - - _With heaved hands Great Love, I call to thee, - Goe see my Soveraigne, where he doth abide, - And say to him, in what extremity, - Thou hast (for him) my firm affection tryed. - To die for him, it is my sole desire, - For live with him I may not, nor aspire, - To have my fortunes thereby dignified, - Onely his sight would lend me life a while: - Grant it (great love) mine anguish to beguile. - Goe love and tell the torments, &c._ - - _Since the first houre that love enthralled me, - I never had the heart, to tell my griefe, - My thoughts did speake, for thoughts be alwayes free, - Yet hopefull thoughts doe find but poore reliefe. - When Gnats will mount to Eagles in the ayre, - Alas! they scorne them, for full well they know, - They were not bred to prey so base and low, - Aloft they look, to make their flight more faire. - And yet his sight would lend me life a while: - Grant it (great love) mine anguish to beguile. - Goe love, and tell the torments, &c._ - - _If sight shall be denyed, then tell them plaine, - His high triumphall day procurd my death, - The Launce that won him Honour, hath me slaine, - For instantly it did bereave my breath. - That speake I could not, nor durst be so bold, - To make the Ayre acquainted with my woe: - Alas! I lookt so high, and doing so, - Justly deserve by death to be controld. - Yet mercies sight would lend me life a while, - Grant it (great love) mine anguish to beguile._ - - _Goe love, and tell the torments I endure, - Say to my Soveraigne Lord, that I must die: - Except he come, some comfort to procure, - For tell I may not, what I feele, and why._ - -The lines contained in this Ditty, _Manutio_ fitted with noates so -mooving and singularly musicall, that every word had the sensible -motion of life in it, where the King being (as yet) not risen from the -Table, he commanded him to use both his Lute and voyce. - -This seemed a happy opportunity to _Manutio_, to sing the dittie so -purposely done and devised: which hee delivered in such excellent -manner, the voice and Instrument concording so extraordinary pleasing; -that all the persons then in the Presence, seemed rather Statues, then -living men, so strangely they were wrapt with admiration, and the King -himselfe farre beyond all the rest, transported with a rare kinde of -alteration. - -When _Manutio_ had ended the Song, the King demanded of him, whence -this Song came, because he had never heard it before? My gracious Lord, -answered _Manutio_, it must needes seeme straunge to your Majesty, -because it is not fully three dayes, since it was invented, made, and -set to the note. Then the King asked, whom it concerned? Sir (quoth -_Manutio_) I dare not disclose that to any but onely your selfe. Which -answer made the King much more desirous, and being risen from the -Table, he tooke him into his Bed-chamber, where _Manutio_ related all -at large to him, according to the trust reposed in him. Wherewith the -King was wonderfully well pleased, greatly commending the courage of -the Maide, and said, that a Virgin of such a valiant spirit, did well -deserve to have her case commiserated: and commanded him also, to goe -(as sent from him) and comfort her, with promise, that the very same -day, in the evening, he would not faile to come and see her. - -_Manutio_, more then contented, to carry such glad tydings to _Lisana_; -without staying in any place, and taking his Lute also with him, went -to the Apothecaries house, where speaking alone with the Maide: he -told her what he had done, and afterward sung the song to her, in as -excellent manner as he had done before, wherein _Lisana_ conceived such -joy and contentment, as even in the very same moment, it was observed -by apparant signes, that the violence of her fits forsooke her, and -health began to get the upper hand of them. So, without suffering any -one in the house to know it, or by the least meanes to suspect it; she -comforted her selfe till the evening, in expectation of her Soveraignes -arrivall. - -_Piero_ being a Prince, of most liberall and benigne nature, having -afterward divers times considered on the matters which _Manutio_ had -revealed to him, knowing also the yong Maiden, to bee both beautifull -and vertuous: was so much moved with pitty of her extremitie, as -mounting on horse-backe in the evening, and seeming as if he rode -abroad for his private recreation; he went directly to the Apothecaries -house, where desiring to see a goodly garden, appertaining then to the -Apothecarie, he dismounted from his horse. Walking into the garden, he -began to question with _Bernardo_, demaunding him for his Daughter, and -whether he had (as yet) marryed her, or no? My Gracious Lord, answered -_Bernardo_, as yet shee is not marryed, neither likely to bee, in -regard shee hath had a long and tedious sickenesse: but since Dinner -time, she is indifferently eased of her former violent paine, which we -could not discerne the like alteration in her, a long while before. - -The King understood immediately, the reason of this so sudden -alteration, and said. In good faith _Bernardo_, the world would -sustaine a great maine & imperfection, by the losse of thy faire -daughter; wherefore, we will goe our selfe in person to visite her. -So, with two of his Lords onely, and the Father, he ascended to the -Maides Chamber & being entred, he went to the Beds side, where she -sate, somewhat raised, in expectation of his comming, and taking her -by the hand, he said. Faire _Lisana_, how commeth this to passe? You -being so faire a Virgin, yong, and in the delicacy of your daies, which -should be the chiefest comfort to you, will you suffer your selfe to be -over-awed with sickenesse? Let us intreat you, that (for our sake) you -will be of good comfort, and thereby recover your health the sooner, -especially, when it is requested by a King, who is sorry to see so -bright a beauty sicke, and would helpe it, if it consisted in his power. - -_Lisana_, feeling the touch of his hand, whom she loved above all -things else in the world, although a bashfull blush mounted up into her -cheekes: yet her heart was seazed with such a rapture of pleasure, that -she thought her selfe translated into Paradise, and, so well as she -could, thus she replyed. Great King, by opposing my feeble strength, -against a burden of over-ponderous weight, it became the occasion of -this grievous sickenesse: but I hope that the violence thereof is -(almost) already kild, onely by this soveraigne mercy in you; and -doubtlesse it will cause my speedy deliverance. The King did best -understand this so well palliated answere of _Lisana_, which as he did -much commend, in regard of her high adventuring; so he did againe as -greatly condemne Fortune, for not making her more happy in her birth. - -So, after he had stayed there a good while, and given her many -comfortable speeches, he returned backe to the Court. This humanity -in the King, was reputed a great honour to the Apothecary and his -daughter, who (in her owne mind) received as much joy and contentment -thereby, as ever any wife could have of her owne Husband. - -And being assisted by better hopes, within a short while after, she -became recovered, and farre more beautifull (in common judgment) then -ever she was before. - -_Lisana_ being now in perfect health, the King consulted with his -Queene, what meete recompence he should gratifie her withall, -for loving and affecting him in such fervent manner. Upon a day -determined, the King mounting on horsebacke, accompanied with many of -his cheefest Lords and Barons, he rode to the Apothecaries house, where -walking in his beautifull Garden, hee called for _Bernardo_ and his -daughter _Lisana_. In the meane space, the Queene also came thither, -Royally attended on by her Ladies, and _Lisana_ being admitted into -their company, they expressed themselves very gracious to her. Soone -after, the King and the Queene cald _Lisana_, and the King spake in -this manner to her. - -Faire Virgin, the extraordinary love which you bare to us, calleth for -as great honour from us to you; in which respect, it is our Royall -desire, by one meanes or other to requite your kinde Love. In our -opinion, the chiefe honour we can extend to you, is, that being of -sufficient yeares for marriage, you would grace us so much, as to -accept him for your Husband, whom we intend to bestow on you. Beside -this further grant from us, that (notwithstanding whatsoever else) you -shall call us your Knight; without coveting any thing else from you, -for so great favour, but only one kisse, and thinke not to bestow it -nicely on a King, but grant it the rather, because he begges it. - -_Lisana_, whose lookes, were dyed with a vermillian tincture, or rather -converted into a pure maiden blush, reputing the Kings desire to be her -owne; in a low and humbled voyce, thus answered. My Lord, most certaine -am I, that if it had beene publikely knowne, how none but your highnes, -might serve for me to fixe my love on, I should have been termed the -foole of all fooles: they perhaps beleeving, that I was forgetfull of -my selfe, in being ignorant of mine owne condition, and much lesse of -yours. But the Gods are my witnesses (because they know the secrets -of all hearts) that even in the very instant, when Loves fire tooke -hold on my yeelding affection: I knew you to be a King, and my selfe -the daughter of poore _Bernardo_ the Apothecary: likewise, how farre -unfitting it was for me, to be so ambitious in my loves presuming. -But I am sure your Majestie doth know (much better then I am able to -expresse) that no one becommeth amourous, according to the duty of -election, but as the appetite shapeth his course, against whose lawes -my strength made many resistances, which not prevailing, I presumed to -love, did, and so for ever shall doe, your Majestie. - -Now Royall Soveraigne, I must needes confesse, that so soone as I -felt my selfe thus wholly conquered by loving you, I resolved for -ever after, to make your will mine owne, and therefore, am not onely -willing to accept him for my Husband, whom you shall please to appoint, -befitting my honor and degree: but if you will have me to live in a -flaming fire, my obedience shall sacrifice it selfe to your will, with -the absolute conformity of mine owne. To stile you by the name of my -Knight, whom I know to be my lawfull King and Soveraigne; you are not -ignorant, how farre unfitting a word that were for me to use: As also -the kisse which you request, in requitall of my love to you; to these -two I will never give consent, without the Queenes most gracious favour -and license first granted. Neverthelesse, for such admirable benignity -used to me, both by your Royall selfe, and your vertuous Queene: heaven -shower downe all boundlesse graces on you both, for it exceedeth all -merit in me, and so she ceased speaking, in most dutifull manner. - -The answer of _Lisana_ pleased the Queene exceedingly, in finding -her to be so wise and faire, as the King himself had before informed -her: who instantly called for her Father and Mother, and knowing -they would be well pleased with whatsoever he did; he called for a -proper yong Gentleman, but some what poore, being named _Perdicano_, -and putting certaine Rings into his hand, which he refused not to -receive, caused him there to espouse _Lisana_. To whome the King -gave immediately (besides Chaines and Jewels of inestimable valew, -delivered by the Queene to the Bride) _Ceffala_ and _Calatabelotta_, -two great territories abounding in divers wealthy possessions, saying -to _Perdicano_. These wee give thee, as a dowry in marriage with this -beautifull Maid, and greater gifts we will bestow on thee hereafter, as -we shall perceive thy love and kindnesse to her. - -When he had ended these words, hee turned to _Lisana_, saying: Heere -doe I freely give over all further fruits of your affection towards -me, thanking you for your former love: so taking her head betweene -his hands, he kissed her faire forhead, which was the usuall custome -in those times. _Perdicano_, the Father and Mother of _Lisana_, and -she her selfe likewise, extraordinarily joyfull for this so fortunate -a marriage, returned humble and hearty thankes both to the King and -Queene, and (as many credible Authors doe affirme) the King kept his -promise made to _Lisana_, because (so long as he lived) he alwaies -termed himselfe by the name of her Knight, and in al actions of -Chivalry by him undertaken, he never carried any other devise, but such -as he received still from her. - -By this, and divers other like worthy deeds, not onely did he win -the hearts of his subjects; but gave occasion to the whole world -beside, to renowne his fame to all succeeding posterity. Whereto (in -these more wretched times of ours) few or none bend the sway of their -understanding: but rather how to bee cruell and tyrranous Lords, and -thereby win the hatred of their people. - - - - -Sophronia, _thinking her selfe to be the maried wife of_ Gisippus, -_was (indeed) the wife of_ Titus Quintus Fulvius, _& departed thence -with him to Rome. Within a while after,_ Gisippus _also came thither -in very poore condition, and thinking that he was despised by_ Titus, -_grew weary of his life, and confessed that he had murdred a man, with -full intent to die for the fact. But_ Titus _taking knowledge of him, -and desiring to save the life of_ Gisippus, _charged himself to have -done the bloody deed. Which the murderer himself (standing then among -the multitude) seeing, truly confessed the deed. By meanes whereof, all -three were delivered by the Emperor_ Octavius; _and_ Titus _gave his -Sister in mariage to_ Gisippus, _giving them also the most part of his -goods & inheritances._ - -The eight Novell. - -_Declaring, that notwithstanding the frownes of Fortune, diversity of -occurrences, and contrary accidents happening: yet love and friendship -ought to be preciously preserved among men._ - - -By this time Madam _Philomena_, at command of the King, (Madam -_Pampinea_ ceasing) prepared to follow next in order, whereupon thus -she began. What is it (Gracious Ladies) that Kings can not do (if they -list) in matters of greatest importance, and especially unto such as -most they should declare their magnificence? He then that performeth -what he ought to do, when it is within his owne power, doth well. -But it is not so much to bee admired, neither deserveth halfe the -commendations, as when one man doth good to another, when least it -is expected, as being out of his power, and yet performed. In which -respect, because you have so extolled king _Piero_, as appearing not -meanly meritorious in your judgements; I make no doubt but you will be -much more pleased, when the actions of our equals are duly considered, -and shall paralell any of the greatest Kings. Wherefore I purpose to -tell you a Novel, concerning an honorable curtesie of two worthy -friends. - -At such time as _Octavius Cæsar_ (not as yet named _Augustus_, but only -in the office called _Triumveri_) governed the _Romane_ Empire, there -dwelt in _Rome_ a Gentleman, named _Publius Quintus Fulvius_, a man -of singular understanding, who having one son, called _Titus Quintus -Fulvius_, of towardly yeares and apprehension, sent him to _Athens_ to -learne Philosophy; but with letters of familiar commendations, to a -Noble _Athenian_ Gentleman, named _Chremes_, being his ancient friend, -of long acquaintance. This Gentleman lodged _Titus_ in his owne House, -as companion to his son, named _Gisippus_, both of them studying -together, under the tutoring of a Philosopher, called _Aristippus_. -These two yong Gentlemen living thus in one Citty, House, and Schoole, -it bred betweene them such a brother-hoode and amity, as they could -not be severed from one another; but only by the accident of death; -nor could either of them enjoy any content, but when they were both -together in company. - -Being each of them endued with gentle spirits, and having begun their -studies together: they arose (by degrees) to the glorious height of -Philosophy, to their much admired fame and commendation. In this manner -they lived, to the no meane comfort of _Chremes_, hardly distinguishing -the one from the other for his Son, & thus the Scholars continued -the space of three yeares. At the ending whereof (as it hapneth in al -things else) _Chremes_ died, whereat both the young Gentlemen conceived -such hearty griefe, as if he had bin their common father; nor could -the kinred of _Chremes_ discerne, which of the two had most need of -comfort, the losse touched them so equally. - -It chanced within some few months after, that the kinred of _Gisippus_ -came to see him, and (before _Titus_) avised him to marriage, and with -a yong Gentlewoman of singular beauty, derived from a most noble house -in _Athens_, and she named _Sophronia_, aged about fifteen years. This -mariage drawing neere, _Gisippus_ on a day, intreated _Titus_ to walk -along with him thither, because (as yet) he had not seene her. Comming -to the house, and she sitting in the midst betweene them, _Titus_ -making himselfe a considerator of beauty, & especially on his friends -behalfe; began to observe her very judicially, & every part of her -seemed so pleasing in his eie, that giving them al a privat praise, yet -answerable to their due deserving; he becam so enflamed with affection -to her, as never any lover could bee more violentlie surprized, so -sodainly doth beauty beguile our best senses. - -After they had sate an indifferent while with her, they returned home -to their lodging, where _Titus_ being alone in his chamber, began to -bethink himselfe on her, whose perfections had so powerfully pleased -him: and the more he entred into this consideration, the fiercer -he felt his desires enflamed, which being unable to quench, by any -reasonable perswasions, after hee had vented foorth infinite sighes, -thus he questioned with himselfe. - -Most unhappie _Titus_ as thou art, whether doost thou transport thine -understanding, love, and hope? Dooest thou not know as well by the -honourable favours, which thou hast received of _Chremes_ and his -house, as also the intire amity betweene thee and _Gisippus_ (unto -whom faire _Sophronia_ is the affianced friend) that thou shouldst -holde her in the like reverent respect, as if shee were thy true borne -Sister? Darest thou presume to fancie her? Whether shall beguiling Love -allure thee, and vaine immaging hopes carrie thee? Open the eyes of thy -better understanding, and acknowledge thy selfe to bee a most miserable -man. Give way to reason, bridle thine intemperate appetites, reforme -all irregulare desires, and guide thy fancy to a place of better -direction. Resist thy wanton and lascivious will in the beginning, and -be master of thy selfe, while thou hast opportunity, for that which -thou aimest at, is neither reasonable nor honest. And if thou wert -assured to prevaile upon this pursuite, yet thou oughtst to avoide it, -if thou hast any regard of true friendship, and the duty therein justly -required. What wilt thou do then _Titus_? Fly from this inordinate -affection, if thou wilt be reputed to be a man of sensible judgement. - -After he had thus discoursed with himselfe, remembring _Sophronia_, -and converting his former allegations, into a quite contrarie sense, -in utter detestation of them, and guided by his idle appetite, thus -he began againe. The lawes of love are of greater force, then any -other whatsoever, they not only breake the bands of friendship, but -even those also of more divine consequence. How many times hath it bin -noted, the father to affect his own daughter, the brother his sister, -and the stepmother her son in law, matters far more monstrous, then to -see one friend love the wife of another, a case happening continually? -Moreover, I am yong, and youth is wholly subjected to the passions of -Love: is it reasonable then, that those should be bard from me, which -are fitting and pleasing to Love? Honest things, belong to men of more -years and maturity, then I am troubled withall, and I can covet none, -but onely those wherein Love is directer. The beauty of _Sophronia_ is -worthy of generall love, and if I that am a yongman do love her, what -man living can justly reprove me for it? Shold not I love her, because -she is affianced to _Gisippus_? That is no matter to me, I ought to -love her, because she is a woman, and women were created for no other -occasion, but to bee Loved. Fortune had sinned in this case, and not -I, in directing my friends affection to her, rather then any other; and -if she ought to be loved, as her perfections do challenge, _Gisippus_ -understanding that I affect her, may be the better contented that it is -I, rather then any other. - -With these, and the like crosse entercourses, he often mockt himselfe, -falling into the contrary, and then to this againe, and from the -contrary, into another kind of alteration, wasting and consuming -himselfe, not only this day and the night following, but many more -afterward, till he lost both his feeding & sleepe, so that through -debility of body, he was constrained to keepe his bed. _Gisippus_, who -had divers dayes noted his melancholly disposition, and now his falling -into extreamitie of sicknesse, was very sorry to behold it: and with -all meanes and inventions he could devise to use, hee both questioned -the cause of this straunge alteration, and essayed everie way, how -hee might best comfort him, never ceassing to demaunde a reason, why -he should become thus sad and sickely. But _Titus_ after infinite -importuning, which still he answered with idle and frivolous excuses, -farre from the truth indeede, and (to the no meane affliction of his -friend) when he was able to use no more contradictions; at length, in -sighes and teares, thus he replyed. - -_Gisippus_, were the Gods so wel pleased, I could more gladly yeild to -dye, then continue any longer in this wretched life, considering, that -Fortune hath brought mee to such an extremity, as proofe is now to be -made of my constancie and vertue; both which I finde conquered in me, -to my eternall confusion and shame. But my best hope is, that I shall -shortly be requited, as I have in justice deserved, namely with death, -which will be a thousand times more welcome to me, then a loathed life, -with remembrance of my base dejection in courage, which because I can -no longer conceale from thee; not without blushing shame, I am well -contented for to let thee know it. - -Then began hee to recount, the whole occasion of this straunge conflict -in him, what a maine battaile hee had with his private thoughts, -confessing that they got the victory, causing him to die hourely -for the love of _Sophronia_, and affirming withall, that in due -acknowledgement, how greatly hee had transgressed against the lawes of -friendship, he thought no other penance sufficient for him, but onely -death, which he willingly expected every houre, and with all his heart -would gladly bid welcome. - -_Gisippus_ hearing this discourse, and seeing how _Titus_ bitterly -wept, in agonies of most moving afflictions: sat an indifferent while -sad and pensive, as being wounded with affection to _Sophronia_, but -yet in a well-governed and temperate manner. So, without any long -delaying, hee concluded with himselfe; that the life of his friend -ought to be accounted much more deare, then any love hee could beare -unto _Sophronia_: And in this resolution, the teares of _Titus_ forcing -his eyes to flow forth like two Fountaines, thus he replyed. - -_Titus_, if thou hadst not neede of comfort, as plainly I see thou -hast, I would justly complaine of thee to my selfe, as of the man who -hath violated our friendship, in keeping thine extreamitie so long -time concealed from mee, which hath beene over-tedious for thee to -endure. And although it might seeme to thee a dishonest case, and -therefore kept from the knowledge of thy friend, yet I plainly tell -thee, that dishonest courses (in the league of amitie) deserve no more -concealment, then those of the honestest nature. But leaving these -impertinent wandrings, let us come to them of much greater necessitie. - -If thou doest earnestly love faire _Sophronia_, who is betroathed -and affianced to me, it is no matter for me to marvaile at: but I -should rather be much abashed, if thou couldst not intyrely affect -her, knowing how beautifull she is, and the nobility of her minde, -being as able to sustaine passion, as the thing pleasing is fullest -of excellence. And looke how reasonably thou fanciest _Sophronia_, as -unjustly thou complainest of thy fortune, in ordaining her to be my -wife, although thou doest not speake it expresly: as being of opinion, -that thou mightest with more honesty love her, if she were any others, -then mine. But if thou art so wise, as I have alwayes held thee to be, -tell me truely upon thy faith, to whom could Fortune better guide her, -and for which thou oughtest to be more thankfull, then in bestowing her -on me? Any other that had enjoyed her, although thy love were never -so honest, yet he would better affect her himselfe, then for thee, -which thou canst not (in like manner) looke for from me, if thou doest -account me for thy friend, and as constant now as ever. - -Reason is my warrant in this case, because I cannot remember, since -first our entrance into friendship, that ever I enjoyed any thing, -but it was as much thine, as mine. And if our affaires had such an -equall course before, as otherwise they could not subsist; must they -not now be kept in the same manner? Can any thing more perticularly -appertaine to me, but thy right therein is as absolute as mine? I -know not how thou maist esteeme of my friendship, if in any thing -concerning my selfe, I can plead my priviledge to be above thine. True -it is, that _Sophronia_ is affianced to me, and I love her dearely, -daily expecting when our nuptials shall be celebrated. But seeing thou -doest more fervently affect her, as being better able to judge of the -perfections, remaining in so excellent a creature as she is, then I -doe: assure thy selfe, and beleeve it constantly, that she shall come -to my bed, not as my wife, but onely thine. And therefore leave these -despairing thoughts, shake off this cloudy disposition, reassume thy -former Joviall spirit, with comfort and what else can content thee: in -expectation of the happy houre, and the just requitall of thy long, -loving, and worthy friendship, which I have alwayes valued equall with -mine owne life. - -_Titus_ hearing this answer of _Gisippus_, looke how much the sweet -hope of that which he desired gave him pleasure, as much both duty -and reason affronted him with shame; setting before his eyes this du -consideration, that the greater the liberality of _Gisippus_ was, farre -greater and unreasonable it appeared to him in disgrace, if hee should -unmannerly accept it. Wherefore, being unable to refrain from teares, -and with such strength as his weaknesse would give leave, thus he -replyed. - -_Gisippus_, thy bounty and firme friendship suffereth me to see -apparantly, what (on my part) is no more then ought to be done. All -the Gods forbid, that I should receive as mine, her whom they have -adjudged to be thine, by true respect of birth and desert. For if they -had thought her a wife fit for me, doe not thou or any else imagine, -that ever she should have beene granted to thee. Use freely therefore -thine owne election, and the gracious favour wherewith they have -blessed thee: leave me to consume away in teares, a mourning garment -by them appointed for me, as being a man unworthy of such happinesse; -for either I shall conquer this disaster, and that will be my crowne, or -else will vanquish me, and free me from all paine: whereto _Gisippus_ -presently thus answered. - -Worthy _Titus_, if our amity would give me so much licence, as but to -contend with my selfe, in pleasing thee with such a thing as I desire, -and could also induce thee therein to be directed: it is the onely end -whereat I aime, and am resolved to pursue it. In which regard, let my -perswasions prevaile with thee, and thereto I conjure thee, by the -faith of a friend, suffer me to use mine authority, when it extendeth -both to mine owne honour, and thy good, for I will have _Sophronia_ -to bee onely thine. I know sufficiently, how farre the forces of love -doe extend in power, and am not ignorant also, how not once or twice, -but very many times, they have brought lovers to unfortunate ends, -as now I see thee very neere it, and so farre gone, as thou art not -able to turne backe againe, nor yet to conquer thine owne teares, but -proceeding on further in this extremity, thou wilt be left vanquished, -sinking under the burthen of loves tyrannicall oppression, and then my -turne is next to follow thee. And therefore, had I no other reason to -love thee, yet because thy life is deare to me, in regard of mine owne -depending thereon; I stand the neerer thereto obliged. For this cause, -_Sophronia_ must and shall be thine, for thou canst not find any other -so conforme to thy fancy: albeit I who can easily convert my liking to -another wife, but never to have the like friend againe, shall hereby -content both thee, and my selfe. - -Yet perhaps this is not a matter so easily done, or I to expresse -such liberality therein, if wives were to be found with the like -difficultie, as true and faithfull friends are: but, (being able to -recover another wife) though never such a worthy friend; I rather -chuse to change, I doe not say loose her (for in giving her to thee, I -loose her not my selfe) and by this change, make that which was good -before, tenne times better, and so preserve both thee and my selfe. To -this end therefore, if my prayers and perswasions have any power with -thee, I earnestly entreat thee, that, by freeing thy selfe out of this -affliction, thou wilt (in one instant) make us both truely comforted, -and dispose thy selfe (living in hope) to embrace that happinesse, -which the fervent love thou bearest to _Sophronia_, hath justly -deserved. - -Now although _Titus_ was confounded with shame, to yeeld consent, that -_Sophronia_ should be accepted as his wife, and used many obstinate -resistances: yet notwithstanding, Love pleading on the one side -powerfully, and _Gisippus_ as earnestly perswading on the other, -thus he answered. _Gisippus_, I know not what to say, neither how -to behave my selfe in this election, concerning the fitting of mine -contentment, or pleasing thee in thy importunate perswasion. But seeing -thy liberality is so great, as it surmounteth all reason or shame in -me, I will yeeld obedience to thy more then noble nature. Yet let this -remaine for thine assurance, that I doe not receive this grace of -thine, as a man not sufficiently understanding, how I enjoy from thee, -not onely her whom most of all I doe affect, but also doe hold my very -life of thee. Grant then you greatest Gods (if you be the Patrones of -this mine unexpected felicitie) that with honor and due respect, I may -hereafter make apparantly knowne: how highly I acknowledge this thy -wonderfull favour, in being more mercifull to me, then I could be to my -selfe. - -For abridging of all further circumstances, answered _Gisippus_, and -for easier bringing this matter to full effect, I hold this to be -our onely way. It is not unknowne to thee, how after much discourse -had between my kindred, and those belonging to _Sophronia_, the -matrimoniall conjunction was fully agreed on, and therefore, if now -I shall flye off, and say, I will not accept thee as my wife: great -scandall would arise thereby, and make much trouble among our friends, -which could not be greatly displeasing to me, if that were the way to -make her thine. But I rather stand in feare, that if I forsake her in -such peremptory sort, her kinred and friends will bestow her on some -other, and so she is utterly lost, without all possible meanes of -recovery. For prevention therefore of all sinister accidents, I thinke -it best, (if thy opinion jumpe with mine) that I still pursue the -busines, as already I have begun, having thee alwaies in my company, -as my dearest friend and onely associate. The nuptials being performed -with our friends, in secret manner at night (as we can cunningly enough -contrive it) thou shalt have her maiden honour in bed, even as if -she were thine owne wife. Afterward, in apt time and place, we will -publiquely make knowne what is done; if they take it well, we will be -as jocond as they: if they frowne and waxe offended, the deed is done, -over-late to be recalled, and so perforce they must rest contented. - -You may well imagine, this advise was not a little pleasing to _Titus_, -whereupon _Gisippus_ received home _Sophronia_ into his house, with -publike intention to make her his wife, according as was the custome -then observed, and _Titus_ being perfectly recovered, was present at -the Feast very ceremonially observed. When night was come, the Ladies -and Gentlewomen conducted _Sophronia_ to the Bride-Chamber, where they -left her in her Husbands bed, and then departed all away. The Chamber -wherein _Titus_ used to lodge, joyned close to that of _Gisippus_, for -their easier accesse each to the other, at all times whensoever they -pleased, and _Gisippus_ being alone in the Bride-Chamber, preparing as -if he were comming to bed: extinguishing the light, he went softly to -_Titus_, willing him to goe to bed to his wife. Which _Titus_ hearing, -overcome with shame and feare, became repentant, and denyed to goe. But -_Gisippus_, being a true intyre friend indeed, and confirming his words -with actions: after a little lingring dispute, sent him to the Bride, -and so soone as he was in the bed with her, taking _Sophronia_ gently -by the hand, softly he moved the usuall question to her, namely, if she -were willing to be his wife. - -She beleeving verily that he was _Gisippus_, modestly answered. Sir, I -have chosen you to be my Husband, reason requires then, that I should -be willing to be your Wife. At which words, a costly Ring, which -_Gisippus_ used daily to weare, he put upon her finger, saying. With -this Ring, I confesse my selfe to be your Husband, and bind you (for -ever) my Spouse and Wife; no other kind of marriage was observed in -those dayes; and so he continued all the night with her, she never -suspecting him to be any other then _Gisippus_, and thus was the -marriage consumated, betweene _Titus_ and _Sophronia_, albeit the -friends (on either side) thought otherwise. - -By this time, _Publius_, the father of _Titus_, was departed out of -this mortall life, & letters came to _Athens_, that with all speed he -should returne to _Rome_, to take order for occasions there concerning -him, wherefore he concluded with _Gisippus_ about his departure, and -taking _Sophronia_ thither with him, which was no easie matter to be -done, until it were first known, how occasions had bin caried among -them. Whereupon, calling her one day into her Chamber, they told her -entirely, how all had past, which _Titus_ confirmed substantially, by -such direct passages betweene themselves, as exceeded all possibility -of denyall, and moved in her much admiration; looking each on other -very discontentedly, she heavily weeping and lamenting, & greatly -complaining of _Gisippus_, for wronging her so unkindly. - -But before any further noyse was made in the house, shee went to -her Father, to whom, as also to her Mother, shee declared the whole -trecherie, how much both they and their other friends were wronged by -_Gisippus_, avouching her selfe to be the wife of _Titus_, and not -of _Gisippus_, as they supposed. These newes were highly displeasing -to the Father of _Sophronia_, who with hir kinred, as also those -of _Gisippus_, made great complaints to the Senate, very dangerous -troubles and commotions arising daily betweene them, drawing both -_Gisippus_ and _Sophronia_ into harsh reports; he being generally -reputed, not onely worthy of all bitter reproofe, but also the severest -punishment. Neverthelesse, hee maintained publikely what he had -done, avouching it for an act both of honour and honestie, wherewith -_Sophronia's_ friends had no reason to bee offended, but rather to take -it in very thankfull part, having married a man of farre greater worth -and respect, than himselfe was, or could be. - -On the other side, _Titus_ hearing these uncivill acclamations, became -much moved and provoked at them, but knowing it was a custome observed -among the _Greekes_, to be so much the more hurried away with rumours -and threatnings, as lesse they finde them to be answered, and when they -finde them, shew themselves not onely humble enough, but rather as base -men, and of no courage; he resolved with himselfe, that their braveries -were no longer to be endured, without some some bold and manly -answere. And having a Romane heart, as also an Athenian understanding, -by politique perswasions, he caused the kinred of _Gisippus_ and -_Sophronia_, to be assembled in a Temple, and himselfe comming thither, -accompanied with none but _Gisippus_ onely, he began to deliver his -minde before them all, in this manner following. - - The Oration uttered by _Titus Quintus Fulvius_, in the hearing of the - Athenians, being the kinred and friends to _Gisippus_ and _Sophronia_. - - - _Many Philosophers doe hold opinion, that the actions performed by - mortall men, doe proceed from the disposing and ordination of the - immortall gods. Whereupon some doe maintaine, that things which be - done, or never are to be done, proceed of necessity: howbeit some - other doe hold, that this necessity is onely referred to things done. - Both which opinions (if they be considered with mature judgment) doe - most manifestly approve, that they who reprehend any thing which is - irrevocable, doe nothing else but shew themselves, as if they were - wiser then the Gods, who we are to beleeve, that with perpetuall - reason, and void of any error, doe dispose and governe both us, and - all our actions; In which respect, how foolish and beast-like a thing - it is, presumptuously to checke or controule their operations, you may - very easily consider; and likewise, how justly they deserve condigne - punishment, who suffer themselves to be transported in so temerarious - a manner._ - - _In which notorious transgression, I understand you all to be guiltie, - if common fame speake truely, concerning the marriage of my selfe - and_ Sophronia, _whom you imagined as given to_ Gisippus; _for you - never remember that it was so ordained from eternitie, shee to be - mine, and no Wife for_ Gisippus, _as at this instant is made manifest - by full effect. But because the kinde of speaking, concerning divine - providence, and intention of the Gods, may seeme a difficult matter - to many, and somewhat hard to bee understood: I am content to - presuppose, that they meddle not with any thing of ours, and will - onely stay my selfe on humane reasons, and in this nature of speech, - I shall be enforced to doe two things, quite contrary to my naturall - disposition. The one is, to speake somewhat in praise and commendation - of my selfe: And the other, justly to blame and condemne other mens - seeming estimation. But because both in the one and the other, I doe - not intend to swerve a jot from the Truth, and the necessitie of the - present case in question, doth not onely require, but also command it, - you must pardon what I am to say._ - - _Your complaints doe proceed, rather from furie then reason, and (with - continuall murmurings, or rather seditious) slander, backe-bite - and condemne_ Gisippus, _because (of his owne free will and noble - disposition) hee gave her to be my Wife, whom (by your election) was - made his; wherein I account him most highly praise-worthy: and the - reasons inducing mee thereunto, are these. The first, because he hath - performed no more then what a friend ought to doe: And the second, in - regard he hath dealt more wisely, then you did. I have no intention, - to display (at this present) what the sacred law of amitie requireth, - to be acted by one friend towards another, it shall suffice mee onely - to informe you, that the league of friendship (farre stronger then the - bond of bloud and kinred) confirmed us in our election of either at - the first, to be true, loyall and perpetuall friends; whereas that of - kinred, commeth onely by fortune or chance. And therefore if_ Gisippus - _affected more my life, then your benevolence, I being ordained for - his friend, as I confesse my selfe to be; none of you ought to wonder - thereat, in regard it is no matter of mervaile._ - - _But let us come now to our second reason, wherein, with farre greater - instance I will shew you, that he hath (in this occasion) shewen - himselfe to be much more wise, then you did, or have done: because - it plainely appeareth, that you have no feeling of the divine - providence, and much lesse knowledge in the effects of friendship. I - say, that your foresight, councell and deliberation, gave_ Sophronia - _to_ Gisippus, _a yong Gentleman, and a Philosopher:_ Gisippus - _likewise hath given her to a yong Gentleman, and a Philosopher, as - himselfe is. Your discretion gave her to an Athenian; the gift of_ - Gisippus_, is to a Romaine. Yours, to a Noble and honest man; that - of_ Gisippus, _to one more Noble by race, and no lesse honest then - himselfe. Your judgement hath bestowed her on a rich young man:_ - Gisippus _hath given her to one farre richer. Your wisedome gave her - to one who not onely loved her not, but also one that had no desire to - know her:_ Gisippus _gave her unto him, who, above all felicitie else, - yea, more than his owne life, both entirely loved and desired her._ - - _Now, for proofe of that which I have said, to be most true and - infallible, and that his deede deserveth to bee much more commended - then yours, let it bee duely considered on, point by point. That I - am a young man and a Philosopher, as_ Gisippus _is; my yeares, face, - and studies, without seeking after further proofe, doth sufficiently - testifie: One selfe-same age is both his and mine, in like quality of - course have wee lived and studied together. True it is, that hee is - an Athenian, and I am a Romaine. But if the glory of these two Cities - should bee disputed on: then let mee tell you, that I am of a Citie - that is Francke and Free, and hee is of a Tributarie Citie. I say, - that I am of a Citie, which is chiefe Lady and Mistresse of the whole - World, and hee is of a Citie subject to mine. I say that I am of a - Citie, that is strong in Arms, Empire, and studies: whereas his can - commend it selfe but for Studies onely. And although you see me heere - to bee a Scholler, in appearance meane enough, yet I am not descended - of the simplest stocke in Rome._ - - _My houses and publique places, are filled with the ancient Statues of - my Predecessors, and the Annales recorde the infinite triumphs of the - Quintii, brought home by them into the Romane Capitole, and yeares - cannot eate out the glory of our name, but it will live and flourish - to all posteritie._ - - _Modest shame makes me silent in my wealth and possessions, my minde - truely telling mee, that honest contented povertie, is the most - ancient and richest inheritance, of our best and Noblest Romanes, - which opinion, if it bee condemned by the understanding of the - ignorant multitude, and heerein wee shall give way to them by - preferring riches and worldly treasures, then I can say that I am - aboundantly provided, not as ambitious, or greedily covetous, but - sufficiently stored with the goods of Fortune._ - - _I know well enough, that you held it as a desired benefit,_ Gisippus - _being a Native of your Citie, should also be linked to you by - alliance: but I know no reason, why I should not be as neere and deere - to you at Rome, as if I lived with you heere. Considering, when I am - there, you have a ready and well wishing friend, to stead you in all - beneficiall and serviceable offices, as carefull and provident for - your support, yea, a protectour of you and your affaires, as well - publique as particular. Who is it then, not transported with partiall - affection, that can (in reason) more approve your act, then that - which my friend_ Gisippus _hath done? Questionlesse, not any one, as - I thinke._ Sophronia _is married to_ Titus Quintus Fulvius, _a Noble - Gentleman by antiquitie, a rich Citizen of Rome, and (which is above - all) the friend of_ Gisippus: _therefore, such a one as thinkes it - strange, is sorrie for it, or would not have it to be; knoweth not - what he doth._ - - _Perhaps there may be some, who will say, they doe not so much - complain, that_ Sophronia _is the wife to_ Titus; _but of the manner - whereby it was done, as being made his wife secretly, and by theft, - not any of her parents, kinred or friends called thereto: no, nor - so much as advertised thereof. Why Gentlemen, this is no miraculous - thing, but heeretofore hath oftentimes happened, and therefore no - noveltie._ - - _I cannot count unto you, how many there have beene, who (against the - will of their Fathers) have made choice of their husbands; nor them - that have fled away with their lovers into strange Countries, being - first friends, before they were wives: nor of them who have sooner - made testimonie of marriage by their bellies, then those ceremonies - due to matrimonie, or publication thereof by the tongue; so that meere - necessity & constraint, hath forced the parents to yeeld consent: - which hath not so happened to_ Sophronia, _for she was given to me by_ - Gisippus _discreetly, honestly, and orderly._ - - _Others also may say, that shee is married to him, to whom it belonged - not to marrie her. These complaints are foolish, and womanish, - proceeding from verie little, or no consideration at all. In these - daies of ours, Fortune makes no use of novell or inconsiderate meanes, - whereby to bring matters to their determined effect. Why should it - offend me, if a Cobler, rather than a Scholler, hath ended a businesse - of mine, either in private or publique, if the end be well made? Well - I may take order, if the Cobler bee indiscreet, that hee meddle no - more with any matters of mine, yet I ought, in courtesie, to thanke - him for that which hee did._ - - _In like manner, if_ Gisippus _hath married_ Sophronia _well, it is - foolish and superfluous, to finde fault with the manner hee used in - her marriage. If you mislike his course in the case, beware of him - hereafter, yet thanke him because it is no worse._ - - _Neverthelesse, you are to understand, that I sought not by fraud or - deceit, (but onely by witte) any opportunitie, whereby any way to - sullie the honestie and cleere Nobilitie of your bloud, in the person - of_ Sophronia: _for although in secret I made her my wife, yet I came - not as an enemie, to take her perforce, nor (like a ravisher) wronged - her virginitie, to blemish your noble titles, or despising your - alliance. But fervently, enflamed by her bright beauty, and incited - also by her unparalleld vertues, I shaped my course; knowing well - enough, that if I tooke the ordinarie way of wiving, by moving the - question to you, I should never winne your consent, as fearing, lest I - would take her with me to Rome, and so conveigh out of your sight, a - Jewell by you so much esteemed, as she is._ - - _For this, and no other reason, did I presume to use the secret cunning - which now is openly made knowne unto you: and_ Gisippus _disposed - himselfe thereunto, which otherwise hee never determined to have done, - in contracting the marriage for mee, and shee consenting to me in his - name._ - - _Moreover, albeit most earnestly I affected her, I sought to procure - your union, not like a lover, but as a true husband, nor would I - immodestly touch her, till first (as herselfe can testifie) with the - words becomming wedlocke, and the Ring also I espoused her, demanding - of her, if shee would accept mee as her husband, and shee answered - mee, with her full consent. Wherein, if it may seeme that shee was - deceived, I am not any way to be blamed, but she, for not demanding, - what, and who I was._ - - _This then is the great evill, the great offence, and the great injurie - committed by my friend_ Gisippus, _and by mee as a Lover: that_ - Sophronia _is secretly become the wife of_ Titus Quintus Fulvius. _And - for this cause, like spies you watch him, threaten him daily, as if - you intended to teare him in pieces. What could you doe more, if hee - had given her to a man of the very vilest condition? to a villaine, to - a slave? What prisons? what fetters? Or what torments are sufficient - for this fact? But leaving these frivolous matters, let us come to - discourse of more moment, and better beseeming your attention._ - - _The time is come, that I may no longer continue heere, because_ - Publius _my Father is dead, and I must needs returne to Rome, - wherefore being minded to take_ Sophronia _thither with mee, I was - the more willing to acquaint you therewith, as also what else I have - said, which otherwise had still beene concealed from you. Nor can you - but take it in good part, if you be wise, and rest well contented with - what is done: considering, if I had any intention eyther to deceive, - or otherwise wrong you; I could have basely left her, and made a - scorne both of her and you, you not having any power to stay mee - heere. But the Gods will never permitte that any couragious Romane, - should ever conceive so vile and degenerate a thought._ - - Sophronia, _by ordination of the Gods, by force of humane Lawes, and - by the laudable consent of my friend_ Gisippus, _as also the powerfull - command of Love is mine. But you perchance, imagining your selves to - be wiser then the Gods, or any other men whatsoever; may thinke ill - of it, and more brutishly then beasts, condemne their working in two - kinds, which would be offensive to mee. The one is your detaining of_ - Sophronia _from mee, of whom you have no power, but what pleaseth - mee. The other, is your bitter threatnings against_ Gisippus _my - deare friend, to whom you are in duty obliged. In both which cases, - how unreasonablie soever you carrie your selves, I intend not at this - time to presse any further. But rather let mee counsell you like a - friend, to cease your hatred and disdaine, and suffer_ Sophronia _to - be delivered mee, that I may depart contentedly from you as a kinsman, - and (being absent) remaine your friend: assuring you, that whether - what is done shall please or displease you, if you purpose to proceed - any otherwise: I will take_ Gisippus _along with mee, and when I come - to Rome, take such sure order, to fetch her hence, who in Justice is - mine, even in meere despight of you all, and then you shall feele by - sound experience, how powerfull is the just indignation of the wronged - Romanes._ - - * * * * * - -When Titus had thus concluded his Oration, he arose with a sterne and -discontented countenance, and tooke _Gisippus_ by the hand, plainly -declaring, that he made small account of all the rest that were in the -Temple; and shaking his head at them, rather menaced then any other -wise seemed to care for them. - -They which tarried, when they were gone, considering partly on the -reasons alleadged by _Titus_, and partly terrified by his latest -speeches; became induced, to like well of his alliance and amitie, as -(with common consent) they concluded: that it was much better to accept -_Titus_ as their kinsman (seeing _Gisippus_ had made manifest refusall -thereof) than to lose the kinred of the one, and procure the hatred of -the other. Wherefore they went to seeke _Titus_, and said unto him, -they were very well contented that _Sophronia_ should bee his Wife, hee -their deare and loving kinsman, and _Gisippus_ to remaine their much -respected friend. And embracing one another, making a solemne feast, -such as in the like cases is necessarilie required, they departed from -him, presently sending _Sophronia_ to him, who making a vertue of -necessity, converted her love (in short time after) to _Titus_, in as -effectuall manner, as formerly shee had done to _Gisippus_, and so was -sent away with him to Rome, where she was received and welcommed with -very great honour. - -_Gisippus_ remaining still at _Athens_, in small regard of eyther -theirs or his owne friends: not long after by meanes of sundry -troublesome Citizens; and partialities happening among the common -people, was banished from _Athens_, and hee, as also all his familie, -condemned to perpetuall exile: during which tempestuous time, -_Gisippus_ was become not onely wretchedly poore, but wandred abroad as -a common begger; in which miserable condition he travelled to _Rome_, -to try if _Titus_ would take any acknowledgement of him. Understanding -that he was living, and one most respected among the Romanes, as being -a great Commander and a Senator: he enquired for the place where hee -dwelt, and going to be neere about his house, stayed there so long, -till _Titus_ came home, yet not daring to manifest himselfe, or speake -a word to him, in regard of his poore and miserable estate, but strove -to have him see him, to the end, that hee might acknowledge and call -him by his name; notwithstanding, _Titus_ passed by him without either -speech, or looking on him. Which when _Gisippus_ perceived, and making -full account, that (at the least) he would remember him, in regard of -former courtesies, done to him: confounded with griefe and desperate -thoughts, hee departed thence, never meaning to see him any more. - -Now, in regard it was night, he having eaten nothing all that day, nor -provided of one penny to buy him any food, wandred he knew not whether, -desiring rather to die than live; hee came at last to an old ruinous -part of the City, over-spred with briers and bushes, and seldome -resorted unto by any: where finding a hollow Cave or vault, he entred -into it, meaning there to weare away the comfortlesse night, and laying -himselfe downe on the hard ground, almost starke naked, and without -any warme garments, over-wearied with weeping, at last he fell into a -sleepe. - -It fortuned that two men, who had beene abroad the same night, -committing thefts and robberies together; somwhat very earlie in the -morning, came to the same Cave, intending there to share and divide -their booties, and difference happening betweene them about it, hee -that was the stronger person, slew there the other, and then went away -with the whole purchase. - -_Gisippus_ having heard and seene the manner of this accident, was not -a little joyfull, because he had now found a way to death, without -laying any violent hand on himselfe; for life being very loathsome to -him, it was his only desire to die. Wherefore, he would not budge from -the place, but taried there so long, till the Sergeants and Officers -of Justice (by information of him that did the deede) came thither well -attended, and furiously ledde _Gisippus_ thence to prison. - -Being examined concerning this bloudy fact, he plainly confessed, that -hee himselfe had committed the murder, and afterward would not depart -from the Cave, but purposely stayed for apprehension, as being truely -toucht with compunction for so foule an offence: upon which peremptorie -confession, _Marcus Varro_ being then _Prætor_, gave sentence that -he should be crucified on a Crosse, as it was the usuall manner of -death in those dayes. _Titus_ chancing to come at the same time into -_Prætorium_, advisedly beholding the face of the condemned man (as hee -sate upon the bench) knew him to bee _Gisippus_, not a little wondring -at this strange accident, the povertie of his estate, and what occasion -should bring him thither, especially in the questioning for his life, -and before the Tribunall of Justice. - -His soule earnestly thirsting, by all possible meanes to helpe and -defend him, and no other course could now be taken for safetie of his -life, but by accusing himselfe, to excuse and cleare the other of the -crime: hee stept from off the judgement bench, and crouding through -the throng to the Barre, called out to the _Prætor_ in this manner. -_Marcus Varro_, recall thy sentence given on the condemned man sent -away, because hee is truely guiltlesse and innocent: With one bloudie -blow have I offended the Gods, by killing that wretched man, whom the -Serjeants found this morning slaine, wherefore Noble _Prætor_, let no -innocent mans bloud be shed for it, but onely mine that have offended. - -_Marcus Varro_ stood like a man confounded with admiration, being -very sorrie, for that which the whole assistants had both seene and -heard, yet hee could not (with honour) desist from what must needs be -done, but would performe the Lawes severe injunction. And sending for -condemned _Gisippus_ backe againe, in the presence of _Titus_, thus -he spake to him. How becamest thou so madly incensed, as (without -any torment inflicted on thee) to confesse an offence by thee never -committed? Art thou wearie of thy life? Thou chargest thy selfe falsly, -to be the person who this last night murdered the man in the Cave, and -there is another that voluntarily also doth confesse his guiltinesse. - -_Gisippus_ lifting up his eyes, and perceiving it was _Titus_, -conceived immediately, that he had done this onely for his deliverance, -as one that remembred him sufficiently, and would not be ungratefull -for former kindnesses received. Wherefore, the teares flowing -abundantly down his cheekes, he said to the Judge _Varro_, it was -none but I that murdered the man, wherefore, I commiserate the case of -this Noble Gentleman _Titus_, who speakes now too late for the safety -of my life. _Titus_ on the other side, said. Noble Prætor, this man -(as thou seest) is a stranger heere, and was found without any weapon, -fast asleepe by the dead body: thou mayst then easily perceive, that -meerely the miserable condition wherein he is, hath made him desperate, -and he would make mine offence the occasion of his death. Absolve him, -and send me to the Crosse, for none but I have deserved to die for this -fact. - -_Varro_ was amazed, to observe with what earnest instance each of them -strove to excuse the other, which halfe perswaded him in his soule, -that they were both guiltlesse. And as he was starting up, with full -intent to acquaint them: a yong man, who had stood there all this -while, and observed the hard pleading on either side; he crowded into -the Barre, being named _Publius Ambustus_, a fellow of lewd life, and -utterly out of hopes, as being debauched in all his fortunes, and -knowne among the _Romaines_ to be a notorious theefe, who verily had -committed the murder. Well knew his conscience, that none of them were -guilty of the crime, wherewith each so wilfully charged himselfe: being -therefore truely toucht with remorse, he stept before _Marcus Varro_, -saying. - -Honourable Prætor, mine owne horrid and abominable actions, have -induced me thus to intrude my selfe, for clearing the strict contention -betweene these two persons. And questionlesse, some God or greater -power, hath tormented my wretched soule, and so compunctually solicited -me, as I cannot chuse, but make open confession of my sinne. Here -therefore, I doe apparantly publish, that neither of these men is -guilty of the offence, wherewith so wilfully each chargeth himselfe. I -am the villaine, who this morning murdered the man in the Cave, one of -no greater honesty then my selfe, and seeing this poore man lie there -sleeping, while we were dividing the stolne booties betweene us; I slew -my Companyon, because I would be the sole possessor. As for Noble Lord -_Titus_, he had no reason thus to accuse himselfe, because is a man of -no such base quality: let them both then be delivered, and inflict the -sentence of death on me. - -_Octavius Cæsar_, to whom tydings was brought of this rare accident, -commanding them al three to be brought before him; would needs -understand the whole History, in every particular as all had happened, -which was substantially related to him. Whereupon, _Octavius_ pleased -them all three: the two noble friendes, because they were innocent, and -the third, for openly revealing the very truth. - -_Titus_ tooke home with him his friend _Gisippus_, and after he -had sharpely reproved him for his distrust, and cold credence of -his friendship: he brought him to _Sophronia_, who welcomed him as -lovingly, as if he had bin her naturall borne brother, bemoaning his -hard and disastrous fortune, and taking especiall care, to convert all -passed distresses, into as happy and comfortable a change, fitting him -with garments and attendants, beseeming his degree both in Nobility -and vertue. _Titus_, out of his honourable bounty, imparted halfe -his lands and rich possessions to him, and afterward gave him in -marriage, his owne Sister, a most beautifull Lady, named _Fulvia_, -saying to him beside. My deare friend _Gisippus_, it remaineth now in -thine owne election, whether thou wilt live here still with me, or -returne backe to _Athens_, with all the wealth which I have bestowed -on thee. But _Gisippus_, being one way constrayned, by the sentence -of banishment from his native City, & then againe, in regard of the -constant love, which he bare to so true and thankefull friend as -_Titus_ was: concluded to live there as a loyall _Roman_, where he with -his _Fulvia_, and _Titus_ with his faire _Sophronia_, lived long after -together in one and the same house, augmenting daily (if possible it -might be) their amity beyond all other equalizing. - -A most sacred thing therefore is cordiall amity, worthy not onely of -singuler reverence, but also to be honoured with eternall commendation, -as being the onely wise Mother of all magnificence and honesty, the -Sister of Charity and Gratitude, the enemy to hatred and avarice, and -which is alwayes ready (without attending to be requested) to extend -all vertuous actions to others, which she would have done to her selfe. -Her rare and divine effects, in these contrary times of ours, are not -to be found between two such persons, which is a mighty fault, and -greatly checketh the miserable covetousnesse of men, who respecting -nothing but onely their particular benefit; have banished true Amity, -to the utmost confines of the whole earth, and sent her into perpetuall -exile. - -What love, what wealth, or affinity of kindred, could have made -_Gisippus_ feele (even in the intyrest part of his soule) the fervent -compassion, the teares, the sighes of _Titus_, and with such efficacy -as plainely appeared: to make him consent, that his faire elected -Spouse, by him so dearely esteemed, should become the wife of his -Companion, but onely the precious league of Amity? What Lawes, what -threatnings, what feares, could cause the yong armes of _Gisippus_ to -abstaine embraces, betaking himselfe to solitary walkes, and obscure -places, when in his owne bedde, he might have enjoyed so matchlesse -a beauty (who perhaps desired it so much as himselfe) but onely the -gracious title of Amity? What greatnesse, what merits or precedence, -could cause _Gisippus_ not to care, for the losse of his kindred, those -of _Sophronia_, yea, of _Sophronia_ her selfe, not respecting the -dishonest murmurings of base minded people, their vile and contemptible -language, scornes and mockeries, and all to content and satisfie a -friend, but onely Divine Amity? - -Come now likewise to the other side. What occasions could compell Noble -_Titus_, so promptly and deliberatly, to procure his owne death, to -rescue his friend from the crosse, and inflict the pain and shame upon -himselfe, pretending not see or know _Gisippus_ at all, had it not -bin wrought by powerfull Amity? What cause else could make _Titus_ so -liberall, in dividing (with such willingnesse) the larger part of his -patrimony to _Gisippus_, when Fortune had dispossest him of his owne, -but onely heaven-borne Amity? What else could have procured _Titus_ -without any further dilation, feare or suspition, to give his Sister -_Fulvia_ in marriage to _Gisippus_, when he saw him reduced to such -extreame poverty, disgrace and misery, but onely infinite Amity? To -what end doe men care then, to covet and procure great multitudes of -kinred, store of brethren, numbers of children, and to encrease (with -their owne monyes) plenty of servants: when by the least losse and -dammage happening, they forget all duty to Father, Brother, or Master? -Amity and true friendship is of a quite contrary nature, satisfying (in -that sacred bond) the obligation due to all degrees, both of parentage, -and all alliences else. - - - - -Saladine, _the great_ Soldan _of_ Babylon, _in the habite of a -Merchant, was honourably received and welcommed, into the house of -Signior_ Thorello d'Istria. _Who travelling to the Holy Land, prefixed -a certaine time to his Wife, for his returne backe to her againe, -wherein, if he failed, it was lawfull for her to take another Husband. -By clouding himselfe in the disguise of a Faulkner, the_ Soldan _tooke -notice of him, and did him many great honours. Afterward,_ Thorello -_falling sicke, by Magicall Art, he was conveighed in one night to_ -Pavia, _when his Wife was to be married on the morrow: where making -himselfe knowne to her, all was disappointed, and shee went home with -him to his owne house._ - -The Ninth Novell. - -_Declaring what an honourable vertue Courtesie is, in them that truely -know how to use them._ - - -Madam _Philomena_ having concluded her discourse, and the rare -acknowledgement, which _Titus_ made of his esteemed friend _Gisippus_, -extolled justly as it deserved by all the Company: the King, reserving -the last office to _Dioneus_ (as it was at the first granted him) -began to speake thus. Without all question to the contrary (worthy -Ladies) nothing can be more truely said, then what Madame _Philomena_, -hath delivered, concerning Amity, and her complaint in the conclusion -of her Novell, is not without great reason, to see it so slenderly -reverenced and respected (now-a-dayes) among all men. But if we had -met here in duty onely for correcting the abuses of iniquity, and the -malevolent courses of this preposterous age; I could proceed further -in this just cause of complaint. But because our end aimeth at matters -of other nature, it commeth to my memory to tel you of a History, -which (perhaps) may seeme somewhat long, but altogether pleasant, -concerning a magnificent act of great _Saladine_: to the end, that -by observing those things which you shall heare in my Novell, if we -cannot (by reason of our manifold imperfections) intirely compasse the -amity of any one; yet (at least) we may take delight, in stretching -our kindnesse (in good deeds) so farre as we are able, in hope one -day after, some worthy reward will ensue thereon, as thereto justly -appertaining. - -Let me tell you then, that (as it is affirmed by many) in the time of -the Emperour Frederick, first of that name, the Christians, for the -better recovery of the holy land, resolved to make a generall voyage -over the Seas. Which being understood by _Saladine_, a very worthy -Prince, and then _Soldan_ of Babylon: he concluded with himselfe, that -he would (in person) goe see, what preparation the Christian Potentates -made for this Warre, that hee might the better provide for himselfe. -Having setled all things orderly in Ægypt for the busines, and making -an outward appearance, as if he purposed a pilgrimage to _Mecha_: he -set onward on his journey, habited like a Merchant, attended onely with -two of his most Noble and wisest Baschaes, and three waiting servants. - -When he had visited many Christian Provinces, and was riding thorow -_Lombardie_, to passe the mountaines; it fortuned, in his journeying -from _Millaine_ to _Pavia_, and the day being very farre spent, so that -night hastened speedily on him: he met with a Gentleman, named Signior -_Thorello d'Istria_, but dwelling at _Pavia_, who with his men, Hawkes -and Hounds, went to a house of his, seated in a singular place, and -on the River of _Ticinum_. Signior _Thorello_ seeing such men making -towardes him, presently imagined, that they were some Gentle-strangers, -and such hee desired to respect with honor. - -Wherefore, _Saladine_ demanding of one of _Thorelloes_ men, how farre -(as then) it was to _Pavia_, and whether they might reach thither by -such an houre, as would admit their entrance into the Citty: _Thorello_ -would not suffer his servant to returne the answer, but replyed thus -himselfe. Sir (quoth he) you cannot reach _Pavia_, but night will -abridge you of any entraunce there. I beseech you then Sir, answered -_Saladine_, favour us so much (because we are all strangers in these -parts) as to tell us where we may be well lodged. That shall I Sir, said -_Thorello_, and very gladly too. - -Even at the instant Sir, as we met with you, I had determined in my -mind, to send one of my servants somewhat neere to _Pavia_, about a -businesse concerning my selfe: he shall go along with you, and conduct -you to a place, where you will be very well entertayned. So, stepping -to him, who was of best discretion amongst his men, he gave order to -him what should bee done, and sent him with them. Himselfe, making hast -by a farre neerer way, caused Supper to be prepared in worthy manner, -and the Tables to be covered in his Garden; and all things being in -good readinesse, he sate downe at his doore, to attend the comming of -his guests. The Servingman, discoursing with the Gentlemen on divers -occasions, guided them by such unusuall passages, as (before they could -discerne it) he brought them to his Masters house; where so soone as -_Thorello_ saw them arrived, he went forth to meet them, assuring them -all of most hearty welcome. - -_Saladine_, who was a man of accute understanding, did well perceive, -that this Knight _Thorello_ misdoubted his going with him, if (when he -met him) hee should have invited him; and therefore, because he would -not be denied, of entertaining him into his house; he made choise of -this kinde and honourable course, which caused him to returne this -answer. Gentle Sir, if courtesie in one man to another, do deserve -condemning, then may we justly complaine of you, who meeting us upon -the way, which you have shortened by your kindnesse; and which we are -no way able to deserve, wee are constrained to accept, taking you to -bee the mirrour of courtesie. _Thorello_ being a Knight of ingenious -apprehension, and wel languaged, replyed thus. - -Gentlemen; this courtesie (seeing you terme it so) which you receive -of me, in regard of that justly belonging to you, as your faces do -sufficiently informe mee, is matter of very slender account. But -assuredly out of _Pavia_, you could not have any lodging, deserving -to be termed good. And therefore, let it not bee displeasing to you, -if you have a little gone forth of the common rode way, to have your -entertainment somewhat bettered, as many travaylers are easily induced -to do. - -Having thus spoken, all the people of the house shewed themselves, -in serviceable manner to the Gentlemen, taking their horses as they -dismounted, and _Thorello_ himselfe, conducted the three Gentlemen, -into three severall faire Chambers, which in costly manner were -prepared for them, where their boots were pluckt off, faire Napkins -with Manchets lay ready, and delicate Wines to refresh their wearied -spirits, much prety conference being entercoursed, till Supper time -invited them thence. - -_Saladine_, and they that were with him, spake the Latine tongue -very readily, by which meanes they were the better understoode; and -_Thorello_ seemed (in their judgement) to bee the most gracious, -compleate, and best spoken Gentleman, as ever they met with in all -their journey. It appeared also (on the other side) to Signiour -_Thorello_, that his guests were men of great merit, and worthy of -much more esteeme, then there he could use towards them: wherefore, -it did highly distast him, that he had no more friends there this -night to keepe them company, or himselfe better provided for their -entertainment, which hee intended (on the morrow) to recompence with -larger amends at dinner. - -Heereupon, having instructed one of his men with what hee intended, -he sent him to _Pavia_, which was not farre off (and where he kept no -doore shut) to his Wife, named Madam _Adalietta_; a Woman singularly -wise, and of a Noble spirit, needing little or no direction, especially -when she knew her Husbands minde. As they were walking in the Garden, -_Thorello_ desired to understand, of whence, and what they were? -Whereto _Saladine_ thus answered. Sir, wee are _Cyprian_ Marchants, -comming now from _Cyprus_, and are travailing to _Paris_, about -affaires of importance. Now trust me Syr, replyed _Thorello_, I could -heartily wish, that this Countrey of ours would yeeld such Gentlemen, -as your _Cyprus_ affordeth Marchants. So, falling from one discourse -unto another, Supper was served in; and looke howe best themselves -pleased, so they sate at the Table, where (we neede make no doubt) they -were respected in honourable order. - -So soone as the Tables were withdrawne, _Thorello_ knowing they might -be weary, brought them againe to their Chambers, where committing them -to their good rest, himselfe went to bed soone after. The Servant sent -to _Pavia_, delivered the message to his Lady; who, not like a woman -of ordinary disposition, but rather truely Royall, sent _Thorelloes_ -servants into the City, to make preparation for a Feast indeed, and -with lighted Torches (because it was somewhat late) they invited -the very greatest and noblest persons of the Citie, all the roomes -being hanged with the richest Arras, Clothes of Golde worke, Velvets, -Silkes, and all other rich adornments, in such manner as her husband -had commanded, and answerable to her owne worthy mind, being no way to -learne, in what manner to entertaine strangers. - -On the morrow morning, the Gentlemen arose, and mounting on horsebacke -with Signior _Thorello_, he called for his Hawkes and Hounds, brought -them to the River, where he shewed two or three faire flights: but -_Saladine_ desiring to know, which was the fayrest Hostery in all -_Pavia, Thorello_ answered. Gentlemen, I will shew you that my selfe, -in regard I have occasion to ride thither. Which they beleeving, were -the better contented, and rode on directly unto _Pavia_; arriving there -about nine of the clocke, and thinking he guided them to the best Inne, -he brought them to his owne house; where, above fifty of the worthiest -Citizens, stood ready to welcome the Gentlemen, imbracing them as -they lighted from their Horsses. Which _Saladine_, and his associates -perceiving, they guessed as it was indeede, and _Saladine_ sayd. -Beleeve me worthy _Thorello_, this is not answerable to my demand; -you did too much yester-night, and much more then we could desire or -deserve: Wherefore, you might wel be the sooner discharged of us, and -let us travaile on our journey. - -Noble Gentlemen, replyed _Thorello_ (for in mine eye you seeme no -lesse) that courtesie which you met with yester-night, I am to thanke -Fortune for, more then you, because you were then straited by such -necessity, as urged your acceptance of my poore Country house. But now -this morning, I shall account my selfe much beholding to you (as the -like will all these worthy Gentlemen here about you) if you do but -answer kindnes with kindnes, and not refuse to take a homely dinner -with them. - -_Saladine_ and his friends, being conquerd with such potent -perswasions, and already dismounted from their horses, saw that all -deniall was meerly in vaine: and therefore thankfully condiscending -(after some few ceremonious complements were over-past) the Gentlemen -conducted them to their Chambers, which were most sumptuously prepared -for them, and having laid aside their riding garments, being a little -refreshed with Cakes and choice Wines: they descended into the dining -Hall, the pompe whereof I am not able to report. - -When they had washed, and were seated at the Tables, dinner was served -in most magnificent sort; so that if the Emperor himself had bin there, -he could not have bin more sumptuously served. And although _Saladine_ -and his Baschaes were very Noble Lords, and wonted to see matters of -admiration: yet could they do no lesse now, but rather exceeded in -marvaile, considering the qualitie of the Knight, whom they knew to bee -a Citizen, and no Prince or great Lord. Dinner being ended, and divers -familiar conferences passing amongst them: because it was exceeding -hot, the Gentlemen of _Pavia_ (as it pleased _Thorello_ to appoint) -went to repose themselves awhile, and he keeping company with his three -guests, brought them into a goodly Chamber, where, because he would -not faile in the least scruple of courtesie, or conceale from them the -richest Jewell which he had; he sent for his Lady and wife, because (as -yet) they had not seene her. - -She was a Lady of extraordinary beauty, tall stature, very sumptuously -attired, and having two sweet Sonnes (resembling Angels) she came with -them waiting before her, and graciously saluted her guests. At her -comming, they arose, and having received hir with great reverence, they -seated her in the midst, kindly cherishing the two Children. After some -gracious Language past on eyther side, she demanded of whence, and what -they were, which they answered in the same kind as they had done before -to her husband. Afterward, with a modest smiling countenance, she -sayd. Worthy Gentlemen, let not my weake Womanish discretion appeare -distastable, in desiring to crave one especiall favour from you, -namely, not to refuse or disdaine a small gift, wherewith I purpose -to present you. But considering first, that women (according to their -simple faculty) are able to bestow but silly gifts: so you would be -pleased, to respect more the person that is the giver, then the quality -or quantity of the gift. - -Then causing to be brought (for each of them) two goodly gowns or -Robes (made after the _Persian_ manner) the one lyned thorough with -cloth of Gold, and the other with the costlyest Fur; not after such -fashion as Citizens or Marchants use to weare, but rather beseeming -Lords of greatest account, and three light under-wearing Cassocks or -Mandillions, of Carnatian Sattin, richly Imbroidred with Gold and -Pearles, and lined thorow with White Taffata, presenting these gifts to -him, she sayd. I desire you Gentlemen to receive these meane trifles, -such as you see my Husband weares the like, and these other beside, -considering you are so far from your Wives, having travailed a long -way already, and many miles more yet to overtake; also Marchants (being -excellent men) affect to be comely and handsome in their habits; -although these are of slender value, yet (in necessity) they may do you -service. - -Now was _Saladine_ and his Baschaes halfe astonyed with admiration, -at the magnificent minde of Signiour _Thorello_, who would not forget -the least part of courtesie towardes them, and greatly doubted (seeing -the beauty and riches of the Garments) least they were discovered by -_Thorello_. Neverthelesse, one of them thus answered the Lady. Beleeve -me Madame, these are rich guiftes, not lightly either to be given, -or receyved: but in regard of your strict imposition, we are not -able to deny them. This being done, with most gracious and courteous -demeanour, she departed from them, leaving her Husband to keepe them -still companie; who furnished their servants also, with divers worthy -necessaries fitting for their journey. - -Afterward, _Thorello_ (by very much importunitie) wonne them to stay -with him all the rest of the day; wherefore, when they had rested -themselves awhile, being attyred in their newly given robes; they -rode on Horsebacke thorow the Citty. When supper time came, they supt -in most honourable and worthy company, beeing afterwards Lodged in -most faire and sumptuous Chambers, and being risen in the morning, -in exchange of their horses (over-wearied with Travaile) they found -three other very richly furnished, and their men also in like manner -provided. Which when _Saladine_ had perceyved, he tooke his Baschaes -aside, and spake in this manner. - -By our greatest Gods, I never met with any man, more compleat in all -noble perfections, more courteous and kinde then _Thorello_ is. If -all the Christian Kings, in the true and heroicall nature of Kings, -do deale as honourably as I see this Knight doeth, the Soldane of -_Babylon_ is not able to endure the comming of one of them, much lesse -so many, as wee see preparing to make head against us. But beholding, -that both refusall and acceptation, was all one in the minde of -_Thorello_: after much kinde Language had bin intercoursed betweene -them, _Saladine_ (with his Attendants) mounted on horsebacke. - -Signiour _Thorello_, with a number of his honourable Friends (to the -number of an hundred Horsse) accompanied them a great distance from -the Citie, and although it greeved _Saladine_ exceedingly, to leave -the company of _Thorello_, so dearely he was affected to him; but -necessity (which controlleth the power of all lawes whatsoever) must -needs divide them: yet requesting his returne agayne that way, if -possibly it might be granted; which _Saladine_ promised but did not -performe. Well Gentlemen (quoth _Thorello_ at parting) I know not -what you are, neither (against your will) do I desire it: but whether -you be Marchants or no, remember me in your kindnesse, and so to the -heavenly powers I commend you. _Saladine_, having taken his leave of -all them that were with _Thorello_, returned him this answer. Sir, it -may one day hereafter so happen, as we shall let you see some of our -Marchandises, for the better confirmation of your beleefe, and our -profession. - -Thus parted Signior _Thorello_ and his friends, from _Saladine_ and -his company, who verily determined in the heighth of his minde, if -he should be spared with life, and the warre (which he expected) -concluded: to requite _Thorello_ with no lesse courtesie, then hee -had already declared to him; conferring a long while after with -his Baschaes, both of him and his beauteous Lady, not forgetting -any of their courteous actions, but gracing them all with deserved -commendation. But after they had (with very laborious paines) surveyed -most of the Westerne parts, they all tooke Shipping, and returned into -_Alexandria_: sufficiently informed, what preparation was to be made -for their owne defence. And Signior _Thorello_ being come backe againe -to _Pavia_, consulted with his privat thoughts (many times after) what -these three travailers should be, but came farre short of knowing the -truth, till (by experience) hee became better informed. - -When the time was come, that the Christians were to make their passage, -and wonderfull great preparations, in all places performed: Signiour -_Thorello_, notwithstanding the teares and intreaties of his Wife, -determined to be one in so woorthy and honourable a voyage: and having -made his provision ready, nothing wanting but mounting on Horsebacke, -to go where he should take shipping; to his Wife (whom he most intirely -affected) thus hee spake. Madame, I goe as thou seest in this famous -Voyage, as well for mine Honour, as also the benefite of my soule; all -our goodes and possessions, I commit to thy vertuous care. And because -I am not certaine of my returning backe againe, in regard of a thousand -accidents which may happen, in such a Countrey as I goe unto: I desire -onely but one favour of thee, whatsoever daunger shall befall mee; -Namely, when any certaine tydings shall be brought mee of my death; to -stay no longer before thy second marriage, but one yeare, one month, -and one day; to begin on this day of my departing from thee. - -The Lady, who wept exceedingly, thus answered. Alas Sir: I know not how -to carry my selfe, in such extremity of greefe, as now you leave me; -but if my life surmount the fortitude of sorrow, and whatsoever shall -happen to you for certainty, either life or death: I will live and dye -the Wife of Signiour _Thorello_, and make my obsequies in his memory -onely. - -Not so Madame (replyed her Husband) not so; Be not overrash in -promising any thing, albeit I am well assured, that so much as -consisteth in thy strength, I make no question of thy performance. -But consider withall (deare heart) thou art a yong woman, beautifull, -of great parentage, and no way thereto inferior in the blessings of -Fortune. - -Thy Vertues are many, and universally both divulged and knowen, in -which respect, I make no doubt; but divers and sundrie great Lords -and Gentlemen (if but the least rumour of my death be noysed) will -make suite for thee to thy parents and brethren, from whose violent -solicitings, wouldst thou never so resolutely make resistance, yet -thou canst not be able to defend thy selfe; but whether thou wilt or -no, thou must yeeld to please them; and this is the only reason, why I -would tie thee to this limited time, and not one day or minute longer. - -_Adalietta_, sweetly hugging him in her armes, and melting her selfe in -kisses, sighes, and teares on his face, said. Well Sir, I will do so -much as I am able, in this your most kinde and loving imposition: and -when I shall bee compelled to the contrary: yet rest thus constantly -assured, that I will not breake this your charge, so much as in -thought. Praying ever heartily to the heavenly powers, that they will -direct your course home againe to me, before your prefixed date, or -else I shall live in continual languishing. In the knitting up of this -wofull parting, embracing and kissing either infinit times, the Lady -tooke a Ring from off her finger, and giving it to her husband, said. -If I chaunce to die before I see you againe, remember me when you looke -on this. He receiving the Ring, and bidding all the rest of his Friends -farewell, mounted on horsebacke, and rode away wel attended. - -Being come unto _Geneway_, he and his company boorded a Galley, and (in -few dayes after) arrived at _Acres_, where they joyned themselves with -the Christian Army, wherein there happened a verie dangerous mortality: -During which time of so sharpe visitation (the cause unknowne whence it -proceeded) whether thorough the industrie, or rather the good Fortune -of _Saladine_, well-neere all the rest of the Christians (which escaped -death) were surprized his prisoner (without a blow strucken) and -sundred and imprisoned in divers Townes and Citties. Amongest the which -number of prisoners, it was Signior _Thorelloes_ chaunce to be one, -and walked in bonds to _Alexandria_, where being unknowne, and fearing -least he should be discovered: constrained thereto meerly by necessity, -hee shewed himselfe in the condition of a Faulconer; wherein he was -very excellently experienced, and by which means his profession was -made knowne to _Saladine_, hee delivered out of prison, and created the -Soldans Faulconer. - -_Thorello_ (whom the Soldane called by no other name, then the -Christian, neyther of them knowing the other) sadly now remembred his -departure from _Pavia_, devising and practising many times, how he -might escape thence, but could not compasse it by any possible meanes. -Wherefore, certaine Ambassadours beeing sent by the _Genewaye_, to -redeeme divers Cittizens of theirs, there detained as prisoners, and -being ready to returne home againe: he purposed to write to his Wife, -that he was living, and wold repaire to her so soone as he could, -desiring the still continued remembrance** of her limited time. By close -and cunning meanes hee wrote the Letter, earnestly intreating one of -the Ambassadors (who knew him perfectly, but made no outward apparance -thereof) to deale in such sort for him, that the Letter might be -delivered to the handes of the Abbot _Di San Pietro in Ciel d'Oro_, who -was (indeede) his Uncle. - -While _Thorello_ remayned in this his Faulconers condition, it fortuned -uppon a day, that _Saladine_, conversing with him about his Hawkes: -_Thorello_ chanced to smile, and used such a kinde of gesture or motion -with his Lippes, which _Saladine_ (when he was in his house at _Pavia_) -had heedfully observed, and by this note, instantly he remembred -Signior _Thorello_, and began to eye him very respectively, perswading -himselfe that he was the same man. And therefore falling from their -former kinde of discoursing: Tell mee Christian (quoth _Saladine_) what -Country-man art thou of the West? Sir, answered Signiour _Thorello_, I -am by Country a Lombard, borne in a Citty called _Pavia_, a poore man, -and of as poore condition. - -So soone as _Saladine_ had heard these Words; becomming assured in -that which (but now) he doubted, he saide within himselfe. Now the -Gods have given me time, wherein I may make knowne to this man, how -thankefully I accepted his kinde courtesie, and cannot easily forget -it. Then, without saying any thing else, causing his Guard-robe to be -set open, he tooke him with him thither, and sayde. Christian, observe -well all these Garments, and quicken thy remembrance, in telling mee -truly, whether thou hast seene any of them before now, or no. Signiour -_Thorello_ looked on them all advisedly, and espyed those two especiall -Garments, which his Wife had given one of the strange Merchants; -yet he durst not credit it, or that possibly it could be the same, -neverthelesse he said. Sir, I doe not know any of them, but true it -is, that these two doe resemble two such Robes, as I was wont to weare -my selfe, and these (or the like) were given to three Merchants, that -happened to visite my poore house. - -Now could _Saladine_ containe no longer, but embracing him joyfully in -his armes, he said. You are Signior _Thorello d'Istria_, and I am one -of those three Merchants, to whom your Wife gave these Roabes: and now -the time is come to give you credible intelligence of my Merchandise, -as I promised at my departing from you, for such a time (I told you) -would come at length. _Thorello_, was both glad, and bashfull together: -glad, that he had entertained such a Guest, and bashfully ashamed, that -his welcome had not exceeded in more bountifull manner. _Thorello_, -replyed _Saladine_, seeing the Gods have sent you so happily to me: -account your selfe to be soly Lord here, for I am now no more then a -private man. - -I am not able to expresse their counterchanges of courtesie, _Saladine_ -commanding him to be cloathed in Royall garments, and brought into the -presence of his very greatest Lords, where having spoken liberally in -his due commendation, he commanded them to honour him as himselfe, -if they expected any grace or favour from him, which every one did -immediatly, but (above all the rest) those two Baschaes, which -accompanied _Saladine_ at his house. The greatnesse of this pompe and -glory, so suddenly throwne on Signior _Thorello_, made him halfe forget -all matters of _Lomberdie_; and so much the rather, because he had no -doubt at all, but that his letters, were safely come to the hands of -his Uncle. - -Here I am to tell you, that in the Campe or Army of the Christians, on -the day when _Saladine_ made his surprizall, there was a Provinciall -Gentleman dead and buried, who was Signior _Thorello de Dignes_, a -man of very honourable and great esteeme, in which respect (Signior -_Thorello d'Istria_, knowne throughout the Army, by his Nobility and -valour) whosoever heard that Signior _Thorello_ was dead: beleeved it -to be _Thorello d'Istria_, and not he of _Dignes_, so that _Thorello -d'Istriaes_ unknowne surprizall and thraldome, made it also to passe -for an assured truth. - -Beside, many Italians returning home, and carrying this report for -credible; some were so audaciously presumptuous, as they avouched upon -their oathes, that not onely they saw him dead, but were present at -his buriall likewise. Which rumour comming to the eare of his Wife, -and likewise to his kinred and hers: procured a great and grievous -mourning among them, and all that happened to heare thereof. - -Over-tedious time it would require, to relate at large, the publique -griefe and sorrow, with the continuall lamentations of his Wife, who -(within some few moneths after) became tormented with new marriage -solicitings, before she had halfe sighed for the first: the very -greatest persons of _Lomberdie_ making the motion, being daily followed -and furthered by her owne brothers and friends. Still (drowned in -teares) she returned denyall, till in the end, when no contradiction -could prevaile, to satisfie her parents, and the importunate pursuers: -she was constrained to reveale, the charge imposed on her by her -Husband, which shee had vowed infallibly to keepe, and till that very -time, she would in no wise consent. - -While wooing for a second wedding with _Adalietta_, proceeded in -this manner at _Pavia_, it chanced on a day, that Signior _Thorello_ -had espied a man in _Alexandria_, whom he saw with the _Geneway_ -Ambassadours, when they set thence towards _Geneway_ with their -Gallies. And causing him to be sent for, he demaunded of him, the -successe of the voyage, and when the Gallies arrived at _Geneway_; -whereto he returned him this answere. My Lord, our Gallies made a very -fatall voyage, as it is (already) too well knowne in _Creete_, where -my dwelling is. For when we drew neere _Sicilie_, there suddenly arose -a very dangerous North-West-winde, which drove us on the quicke-Sands -of _Barbarie_, where not any man escaped with life, onely my selfe -excepted, but (in the wracke) two of my brethren perished. - -Signior _Thorello_, giving credit to the mans words, because they -were most true indeed, and remembring also, that the time limitted to -his Wife, drew neere expiring within very few dayes, and no newes now -possibly to be sent thither of his life, his Wife would questionlesse -be marryed againe: he fell into such a deepe conceited melancholly, -as food and sleepe forsooke him, whereupon, he kept his bed, setting -downe his peremptory resolution for death. When _Saladine_ (who dearely -loved him) heard thereof, he came in all haste to see him, and having -(by many earnest perswasions and entreaties) understood the cause of -his melancholly and sickenesse: he very severely reproved him, because -he could no sooner acquaint him therewith. Many kind and comfortable -speeches, he gave him, with constant assurance, that (if he were so -minded) he would so order the businesse for him; as he should be at -_Pavia_, by the same time as he had appointed to his Wife, and revealed -to him also the manner how. - -_Thorello_ verily beleeved the _Soldanes_ promise, because he had -often heard the possibility of performance, and others had effected as -much, divers times else-where: whereupon he began to comfort himselfe, -soliciting the _Soldan_ earnestly that it might be accomplished. -_Saladine_ sent for one of his Sorcerers (of whose skill he had -formerly made experience) to take a direct course, how Signior -_Thorello_ should be carryed (in one night) to _Pavia_, and being in -his bed. The Magitian undertooke to doe it, but, for the Gentlemans -more ease, he must first be possessed with an entraunced dead sleep. -_Saladine_ being thus assured of the deeds full effecting, he came -againe to _Thorello_, and finding him to be setled for _Pavia_ (if -possibly it might be accomplished by the determined time, or else no -other expectation but death) he said unto him as followeth. - -Signior _Thorello_, if with true affection you love your Wife, and -misdoubt her marriage to some other man: I protest unto you, by -the supreme powers, that you deserve no reprehension in any manner -whatsoever. For, of all the Ladyes that ever I have seene, she is the -onely woman, whose carriage, vertues, and civile speaking (setting -aside beauty, which is but a fading flowre) deserveth most graciously -to be respected, much more to be affected in the highest degree. It -were to me no meane favour of our Gods, (seeing Fortune directed your -course so happily hither) that for the short or long time we have to -live, we might reigne equally together in these Kingdomes under my -subjection. But if such grace may not be granted me, yet, seeing it -stands mainly upon the perill of your life, to be at _Pavia_ againe by -your own limitted time, it is my chiefest comfort, that I am therewith -acquainted, because I intended to have you conveighed thither, yea, -even into your owne house, in such honourable order as your vertues doe -justly merit, which in regard it cannot be so conveniently performed, -but as I have already informed you, and as the necessity of the case -urgently commandeth; accept it as it may be best accomplished. - -Great _Saladine_ (answered _Thorello_) effects (without words) have -already sufficiently warranted your Gracious disposition towards me, -farre beyond any requitall remayning in me; your word onely being -enough for my comfort in this case, either dying or living. But in -regard you have taken such order for my departure hence, I desire to -have it done with all possible expedition, because to morrow is the -very last day, that I am to be absent. _Saladine_ protested that it -should be done, and the same evening in the great Hall of his Pallace, -commanded a rich and costly Bedde to be set up, the mattras formed -after the _Alexandrian_ manner, of Velvet and cloth Gold, the Quilts, -counter-points and coverings, sumptuously imbroydered with Orient -Pearles and Precious Stones, supposed to be of inestimable value, and -two rarely wrought Pillowes, such as best beseemed so stately a Bedde, -the Curtaines and Vallans every way equall to the other pompe. - -Which being done, he commanded that _Thorello_ (who was indifferently -recovered) should be attyred in one of his owne sumptuous _Saracine_ -Roabes, the very fairest and richest that ever was seene, and on his -head a Majesticall Turbant, after the manner of his owne wearing, and -the houre appearing to be somewhat late, he with many of his best -Baschaes, went to the Chamber where _Thorello_ was, and sitting downe -a while by him, in teares thus he spake. Signior _Thorello_, the houre -for sundering you and me, is now very neere, and because I cannot beare -you company, in regard of the businesse you goe about, and which by no -meanes will admit it: I am to take my leave of you in this Chamber, and -therefore am purposely come to doe it. But before I bid you farewell, -let me entreat you, by the love and friendship confirmed betweene us, -to be mindfull of me, and to take such order (your affaires being -fully finished in _Lombardie_) that I may once more enjoy the sight of -you here, for a mutuall solace and satisfaction of our mindes, which -are now divided by this urgent hast. Till which may be granted, let -me want no visitation of your kind letters, commanding thereby of me, -whatsoever here can possibly be done for you; assuring your selfe, no -man living can command me as you doe. - -Signior _Thorello_ could not forbeare weeping, but being much hindred -thereby, answered in few words. That he could not possibly forget, his -Gracious favours and extraordinary benefits used towards him, but would -accomplish whatsoever hee commaunded, according as heaven did enable -him. - -Hereupon, _Saladine_ embracing him, and kissing his forehead, said. -All my Gods goe with you, and guard you from any perill, departing so -out of the Chamber weeping, and his Baschaes (having likewise taken -their leave of _Thorello_) followed _Saladine_ into the Hall, whereas -the Bedde stood readily prepared. Because it waxed very late, and the -Magitian also there attending for his dispatch: the Phisitian went with -the potion to _Thorello_, and perswading him, in the way of friendship, -that it was onely to strengthen him after his great Weaknes: he -drank it off, being thereby immediately entraunced, and so presently -sleeping, was (by _Saladines_ command) laid on the sumptuous and costly -Bed, whereon stood an Imperiall Crowne of infinite value, appearing -(by a description engraven on it) that _Saladine_ sent it to Madame -_Adalietta_, the wife of _Thorello_. On his finger also hee put a -Ring, wherein was enchased an admirable Carbuncle, which seemed like a -flaming Torche, the value thereof not to bee estimated. By him likewise -hee laid a rich sword, with the girdle, hangers, and other furniture, -such as seldome can be seene the like. Then hee laid a Jewell on the -Pillow by him, so sumptuouslie embelished with Pearles and precious -Stones, as might have beseemed the greatest Monarch in the World to -weare. Last of all, on either side of them, hee set two great Basons of -pure Gold, full of double ducates, many cords of Orient Pearles, Rings, -Girdles, and other costly Jewells (over-tedious to bee recounted) and -kissing him once more as hee lay in the bedde, commanded the Magitian -to dispatch and be gone. - -Instantly, the bedde and _Thorello_ in it, in the presence of -_Saladine_, was invisibly carried thence, and while he sate conferring -with his Baschaes, the bed, Signior _Thorello_, and all the rich -Jewells about him, was transported and set in the Church of _San Pietro -in Ciel d'Ore_ in _Pavia_, according to his own request, and soundly -sleeping, being placed directly before the high Altar. Afterward, when -the bells rung to Mattines, the Sexton entring the Church with a light -in his hand (where hee beheld a light of greater splendour) and suddenly -espied the sumptuous bedde there standing: not only was he smitten into -admiration, but hee ranne away also very fearefully. When the Abbot -and the Monkes mette him thus running into the Cloyster, they became -amazed, and demanded the reason why he ranne in such haste, which -the Sexton told them. How? quoth the Abbot, thou art no childe, or a -new-come hither, to be so easilie affrighted in our holy Church, where -Spirits can have no power to walke, God and Saint _Peter_ (wee hope) -are stronger for us then them so: wherefore turne backe with us, and -let us see the cause of thy feare. - -Having lighted many Torches, the Abbot and his Monkes entred with the -Sexton into the Church, where they beheld the wonderfull riche bedde, -and the Knight lying fast a-sleepe in it. While they stood all in -amazement, not daring to approach neere the bedde, whereon lay such -costly Jewells: it chanced that Signior _Thorello_ awaked, and breathed -forth a vehement sigh. The Monkes and the Abbot seeing him to stirre, -ranne all away in feare, crying aloud, God and S. _Peter_ defend us. - -By this time _Thorello_ had opened his eyes, and looking round about -him, perceived that hee was in the place of _Saladines_ promise, -whereof hee was not a little joyfull. Wherefore, sitting up in the -bedde, and particularly observing all the things about him: albeit he -knew sufficiently the magnificence of _Saladine_, yet now it appeared -far greater to him, and imagined more largely thereof, then hee could -doe before. But yet, without any other ceremony, seeing the flight of -the Monkes, hearing their cry, and perceiving the reason; he called the -Abbot by his name, desiring him not to be afraid, for he was his Nephew -_Thorello_, and no other. - -When the Abbot heard this, hee was ten times worse affrighted then -before, because (by publique fame) hee had beene so many moneths dead -and buried; but receiving (by true arguments) better assurance of him, -and hearing him still call him by his name: blessing himselfe with -the signe of the Crosse, hee went somewhat neerer to the bed, when -_Thorello_ said. My loving Uncle, and religious holy Father, whereof are -you afraid? I am your loving Nephew, newly returned from beyond the -Seas. The Abbot, seeing his beard to be grown long, and his habit after -the Arabian fashion, did yet collect some resemblance of his former -countenance; and being better perswaded of him, tooke him by the hand, -saying: - -Sonne thou art happily returned, yet there is not any man in our -Citie, but doth verily beleeve thee to bee dead, and therefore doe -not much wonder at our feare. Moreover, I dare assure thee, that thy -Wife _Adalietta_, being conquered by the controuling command, and -threatnings of her kinred (but much against her owne minde) is this -very morning to be married to a new husband, and the marriage feast is -solemnly prepared, in honour of this second nuptialls. - -_Thorello_ arising out of the bedde, gave gracious salutations to the -Abbot and his Monkes, intreating earnestly of them all, that no word -might be spoken of his returne, untill he had compleated an important -businesse. Afterward, having safely secured the bedde, and all the -rich Jewells, he fully acquainted the Abbot with all his passed -fortunes, whereof he was immeasurably joyfully, & having satisfied him, -concerning the new elected husband, _Thorello_ said unto the Abbot. -Uncle, before any rumour of my returne, I would gladly see my wives -behavior at this new briding feast, & although men of religion are -seldome seene at such Joviall meetings: yet (for my sake) doe you so -order the matter, that I (as an Arabian stranger) may be a guest under -your protection; whereto the Abbot very gladly condescended. - -In the morning, he sent to the Bridegroom, and advertised him, that -he (with a stranger newly arrived) intented to dine with him, which -the Gentleman accepted in thankefull manner. And when dinner time -came, _Thorello_ in his strange disguise went with the Abbot to -the Bridegroomes house, where he was lookt on with admiration of -all the guests, but not knowne or suspected by any one; because the -Abbot reported him to be a _Sarracine_, and sent by the Soldane (in -Ambassage) to the King of France. _Thorello_ was seated at a by-table, -but directly opposite to the new Bride, whom hee much delighted to -looke on, and easily collected by her sad countenance, that shee was -scarcely well pleased with this new nuptialls. She likewise beheld him -very often, not in regard of any knowlege she took of him: for the -bushiness of his beard, strangeness of habit, (but most of all) firm -beleefe of his death, was the maine prevention. - -At such time as _Thorello_ thought it convenient, to approve how farre -he was falne out of her remembrance; he took the ring which she gave -him at his departure, and calling a young Page that waited on none but -the Bride, said to him in Italian: Faire youth, goe to the Bride, and -saluting her from me, tell her, it is a custome observed in my Country, -that when any Stranger (as I am heere) sitteth before a new married -Bride, as now shee is, in signe that hee is welcome to her feast, she -sendeth the same Cup (wherein she drinketh her selfe) full of the -best wine, and when the stranger hath drunke so much as him pleaseth, -the Bride then pledgeth him with all the rest. The Page delivered the -message to the Bride, who, being a woman of honourable disposition, and -reputing him to be a Noble Gentleman, to testifie that his presence -there was very acceptable to her, shee commanded a faire Cuppe of gold -(which stood directlie before her) to bee neately washed, and when -it was filled with excellent Wine, caused it to bee carried to the -stranger, and so it was done. - -_Thorello_ having drunke a heartie draught to the Bride, conveyed the -Ring into the Cuppe, before any person could perceive it, and having -left but small store of Wine in it, covered the Cuppe, and sent it -againe to the Bride, who received it very graciously, and to honour the -Stranger in his Countries custome, dranke up the rest of the Wine, and -espying the Ring, shee tooke it forth undetected by any: Knowing it -to be the same Ring which shee gave Signior _Thorello_ at his parting -from her; she fixed her eyes often on it, & as often on him, whom -she thought to be a stranger, the cheerfull bloud mounting up into -her cheeks, and returning againe with remembrance to her heart, that -(howsoever thus disguised) he only was her husband. - -Like one of _Bacchus_ Froes, up furiously she started, and throwing -downe the Table before her, cried out aloud: This is my Lord and -Husband, this truely is my Lord _Thorello_. So running to the Table -where he sate, without regard of all the riches thereon, down she -threw it likewise, and clasping her armes about his necke, hung so -mainly on him (weeping, sobbing, and kissing him) as she could not be -taken off by any of the company, nor shewed any moderation in this -excesse of passion, till _Thorello_ spake, and entreated her to be more -patient, because this extremity was over-dangerous for her. Thus was -the solemnitie much troubled, but every one there very glad and joyfull -for the recovery of such a famous and worthy Knight, who intreated -them all to vouchsafe him silence, and so related all his fortunes to -them, from the time of his departure, to the instant houre. Concluding -withall, that hee was no way offended with the new Bride-groome, who -upon the so constant report of his death, deserved no blame in making -election of his wife. - -The Bridegroome, albeit his countenance was somewhat cloudie, to see -his hope thus disappointed: yet granted freely, that _Adalietta_ was -_Thorello's_ wife in equitie, and hee could not justly lay any claime -to her. She also resigned the Crown and Rings which she had so lately -received of her new Spouse, and put that on her finger which she found -in the Cup, and that Crowne was set upon her head, in honor sent her -from great _Saladine_. In which triumphant manner, she left the new -Bridegrooms abiding, and repayred home to _Thorello's_ house, with such -pompe and magnificence as never had the like been seene in _Pavia_ -before, all the Citizens esteeming it as a miracle, that they had so -happily recovered Signior _Thorello_ againe. - -Some part of the Jewells he gave to him, who had beene at cost with the -marriage feasting, and some to his Uncle the Abbot, beside a bountie -bestowed on the Monkes. Then he sent a messenger to _Saladine_, with -Letters of his whole successe, and confessing himselfe (for ever) his -obliged servant: living many yeeres (after) with his wife _Adalietta_, -and using greater curtesies to strangers, then ever before he had done. - -In this manner ended the troubles of Signior _Thorello_, and the -afflictions of his dearely affected Lady, with due recompence to their -honest and ready courtesies. Many strive (in outward shew) to doe -the like, who although they are sufficiently able, doe performe it -so basely, as it rather redoundeth to their shame, then honour. And -therefore if no merit ensue thereon, but onely such disgrace as justly -should follow; let them lay the blame upon themselves. - - - - -_The Marquesse of_ Saluzzo, _named_ Gualtiero, _being constrained -by the importunate solliciting of his Lords, and other inferiour -people, to joyne himselfe in marriage; tooke a woman according to his -owne liking, called_ Grizelda, _she being the daughter of a poore -Countriman, named_ Janiculo, _by whom he had two children, which he -pretended to be secretly murdered. Afterward, they being grown to yeres -of more stature, and making shew of taking in marriage another wife, -more worthy of his high degree and Calling: made a seeming publique -liking of his owne daughter, expulsing his wife_ Grizelda _poorely -from him. But finding her incomparable patience; more dearely (then -before) hee received her into favour againe, brought her home to his -owne Pallace, where (with her children) hee caused her and them to be -respectively honoured, in despight of all her adverse enemies._ - -The Tenth Novell. - -_Set downe as an example or warning to all wealthie men, how to have -care of marrying themselves. And likewise to poore and meane women, to -be patient in their fortunes, and obedient to their husbands._ - - -Questionlesse, the Kings Novell did not so much exceed the rest in -length, but it proved as pleasing to the whole assembly, & past with -their generall approbation, till _Dioneus_ (in a merry jesting humour) -said. The plaine honest simple man, that stood holding the Candle, to -see the setting on of his Mules tayle; deserved two penny-worth of more -praise, then all our applauding of Signior _Thorello_: And knowing -himselfe to bee left for the last speaker, thus he began. - -Milde & modest Ladies, for ought I can perceive to the contrary, this -day was dedicated to none but Kings, Soldanes, and great Potentates, -not in favour of any inferiour or meaner persons. And therefore, -because I would be loth to dis-ranke my selfe from the rest, I purpose -to speake of a Lord Marquesse, not any matter of great magnificence, -but rather in a more humble nature, and sorted to an honest end: which -yet I will not advise any to immitate, because (perhaps) they cannot -so well digest it, as they did whom my Novell concerneth; thus then I -begin. - -It is a great while since, when among those that were Lord Marquesses -of _Saluzzo_, the very greatest and worthiest man of them al, was -a young Noble Lord, named _Gualtiero_, who having neyther wife nor -childe, spent his time in nothing else but hawking & hunting: nor -had he any minde of marriage, or to enjoy the benefit of children, -wherein many did repute him the wiser. But this being distastfull -to his subjects, they very often earnestly solicited him, to match -himselfe with a wife, to the end, that hee might not decease without -an heire, nor they be left destitute of a succeeding Lord; offering -themselves to provide him of such a one, so well descended by Father -and Mother, as not only should confirm their hope, but also yeeld him -high contentment; whereto the Lord Marquess thus answered. - -Worthie friends, you would constraine me to the thing, wherewith I -never had any intent to meddle, considering, how difficult a case it -is to meet with such a woman, who can agree with a man in all his -conditions, and how great the number is of them, who daily happen on -the contrarie: but most (and worst of all the rest) how wretched and -miserable prooves the life of man, who is bound to live with a wife not -fit for him. And in saying, you can learn to understand the custome and -qualities of children, by behaviour of the fathers and mothers, and so -to provide mee of a wife, it is a meere argument of folly: for neither -shall I comprehend, or you either, the secret inclinations of parents; -I meane of the Father, and much lesse the complexion of the mother. -But admitte it were within compasse of power to know them; yet it is -a frequent sight, and observed every day; that daughters doe resemble -neither father nor mother, but that they are naturally governed by -their owne instinct. - -But because you are so desirous to have me fettered in the chains of -wedlocke; I am contented to grant what you request. And because I -would have no complaint made of any but my selfe, if matters should -not happen answerable to expectation; I will make mine owne eyes my -electors, and not see by any others sight. Giving you this assurance -before, that if she whom I shall make choice of, be not of you honoured -and respected as your Lady and Mistresse: it will ensue to your -detriment, how much you have displeased me, to take a wife at your -request, and against mine owne will. - -The Noble men answered, that they were well satisfied, provided that he -tooke a wife. - -Some indifferent space of time before, the beauty, manners, and -well-seeming vertues, of a poore Countrie-mans daughter, dwelling -in no farre distant village, had appeared very pleasing to the Lord -Marquesse, and gave him full perswasion, that with her hee should -lead a comfortable life. And therefore without any further search or -inquisition, he absolutely resolved to marry her, and having conferred -with her Father, agreed, that his daughter should be his wife. -Whereupon, the Marquesse made a generall Convocation of all his Lords, -Barons, and other of his especiall friends, from all parts of his -Dominion; and when they were assembled together, hee then spake unto -them in manner as followeth. - -Honourable friends, it appeared pleasing to you all; and yet (I thinke) -you are of the same minde, that I should dispose my selfe to take -a wife: and I thereto condescended, more to yeeld you contentment, -then for any particular desire in my selfe. Let mee now remember you -of your solemne made promise, with full consent to honor and obey -her (whosoever) as your Soveraigne Lady and Mistresse, that I shall -elect to make my wife: and now the time is come, for my exacting the -performance of that promise, and which I look you must constantly -keepe. I have made choyce of a yong virgine, answerable to mine owne -heart and liking, dwelling not farre off hence, whom I intend to make -my wife, and (within few daies) to have her brought home to my Pallace. -Let your care and diligence then extend so farre, as to see that the -feast may be sumptuous, and her entertainment to bee most honourable: -to the end that I may receive as much contentment in your promise -performed, as you shall perceive I doe in my choice. - -The Lords and all the rest, were wondrously joyfull to heare him -so well inclined, expressing no lesse by their shouts and jocund -suffrages: protesting cordially, that she should be welcommed with -pompe and majestie, and honoured of them all, as their Liege Ladie -and Soveraigne. Afterward, they made preparation for a princely and -magnificent feast, as the Marquesse did the like, for a marriage of -extraordinary state and qualitie, inviting all his kinred, friends, -and acquaintance in all parts and Provinces, about him. Hee made also -readie most riche and costly garments, shaped by the body of a comely -young Gentlewoman, who he knew to be equall in proportion and stature, -to her of whom hee hade made his election. - -When the appointed nuptiall day was come, the Lord Marques, about nine -of the clocke in the morning, mounted on horse-backe, as all the rest -did, who came to attend him honourably, and having all things in due -readinesse with them, he said: Lords, it is time for us to goe fetch -the Bride. So on hee rode with his traine, to the same poore Village -whereas shee dwelt, and when hee was come to her Fathers house, hee saw -the maiden returning very hastily from a Well, where shee had beene to -fetch a paile of Water, which shee set downe, and stood (accompanied -with other maidens) to see the passage by of the Lord Marquesse and his -traine. _Gualtiero_ called her by her name, which was _Grizelda_, and -asked her, where her Father was: who bashfully answered him, and with -an humble courtesie, saying. My gracious Lord, hee is in the house. - -Then the Marquesse dismounted from his horse, commanding every one to -attend him, then all alone hee entred into the poore Cottage, where he -found the maides father, being named _Janiculo_, and said unto him. God -speed good Father, I am come to espouse thy daughter _Grizelda_: but -first I have a few demands to make, which I will utter to her in thy -presence. Then hee turned to the maide, and saide. - -Faire _Grizelda_, if I make you my wife, will you doe your best -endeavour to please me, in all things which I shall doe or say? will -you also be gentle, humble, and patient? with divers other the like -questions: whereto she still answered, that she would, so neere as -heaven (with grace) should enable her. - -Presently he tooke her by the hand, so led her forth of the poore -homely house, and in the presence of all his company, with his owne -hands, he took off her meane wearing garments, smocke and all, and -cloathed her with those Robes of State which he had purposely brought -thither for her, and plaiting her haire over her shoulders, hee placed -a Crowne of gold on her head, whereat every one standing as amazed, and -wondring not a little, hee said: _Grizelda_, wilt thou have me to thy -husband. Modestly blushing, and kneeling on the ground, she answered. -Yes my gracious Lord, if you will accept so poore a maiden to be your -wife. Yes _Grizelda_, quoth hee, with this holy kisse, I confirme -thee for my wife; and so espoused her before them all. Then mounting -her on a milke-white Palfray, brought thither for her, shee was thus -honourably conducted to her Pallace. - -Now concerning the marriage feast and triumphes, they were performed -with no lesse pompe, then if she had beene daughter to the King of -France. And the young Bride apparantly declared, that (with her -garments) her minde and behavior were quite changed. For indeed shee -was (as it were shame to speake otherwise) a rare creature, both of -person and perfections, and not onely was shee absolute for beautie, -but so sweetely amiable, gracious, and goodlie; as if she were not the -daughter of poore _Janiculo_, and a Countrie Shepheardesse, but rather -of some Noble Lord, whereat every one wondred that formerly had knowne -her. Beside all this, shee was so obedient to her husband, so fervent -in all dutifull offices, and patient, without the very least provoking: -as hee held himselfe much more then contented, and the onely happy man -of the world. - -In like manner, towards the subjects of her Lord and Husband, she -shewed her selfe alwayes so benigne and gracious; as there was not -any one, but the more they lookt on her, the better they loved her, -honouring her voluntarily, and praying to the heavens, for her health, -dignity and well-fares long continuance. Speaking now (quite contrary -to their former opinion of the Marquesse) honourably and worthily, that -he had shewne him selfe a singular wise man, in the election of his -Wife, which few else (but he) in the world would have done: because -their judgement might fall farre short, of discerning those great and -precious vertues, veiled under a homely habite, and obscured in a poore -Countrey cottage. To be briefe, in very short time, not onely the -Marquisate it selfe, but all neighbouring Provinces round about, had no -other common talke, but of her rare course of life, devotion, charity, -and all good actions else; quite quailing all sinister Instructions of -her Husband, before he received her in marriage. - -About foure or five yeeres after the birth of her daughter, shee -conceived with child againe, and (at the limitted houre of deliverance) -had a goodly Sonne, to the no little liking of the Marquesse. -Afterward, a strange humour entred into his braine, namely, that by -a long continued experience, and courses of intollerable quality; he -would needes make proofe of his faire Wives patience. First he began to -provoke her by injurious speeches, shewing fierce and frowning lookes -to her, intimating; that his people grew displeased with him, in regard -of his Wives base birth and education, and so much the rather, because -she was likely to bring children, who (by her blood) were no better -then beggars, and murmured at the daughter already borne. Which words -when _Grizelda_ heard, without any alteration of countenance, for the -least distemperature in any appearing action she said. - -My honourable and gracious Lord, dispose of me, as you thinke best, -for your owne dignity and contentment, for I shall therewith be well -pleased: as she that knowes her selfe, farre inferiour to the meanest -of your people, much lesse worthy of the honour, whereto you liked to -advance me. - -This answere was very welcome to the Marquesse, as apparantly -perceiving hereby, that the dignity whereto hee had exalted her, or -any particular favours beside, could not infect her with any pride, -coynesse, or disdaine. Not long after, having told her in plaine and -open speeches, that his subjects could not endure her so late borne -daughter: he called a trusty servant of his, and having instructed -him what he should doe, sent him to _Grizelda_, and he being alone -with her, looking very sadde, and much perplexed in mind, he saide. -Madame, except I intend to loose mine owne life, I must accomplish what -my Lord hath strictly enjoyned me, which is, to take this your yong -daughter, and then I must: So breaking off abruptly, the Lady hearing -his words, and noting his frowning lookes, remembring also what the -Marquesse himselfe had formerly said; she presently imagined, that he -had commanded his servant to kill the childe. Suddenly therefore, she -tooke it out of the Cradle, and having sweetly kissed, and bestowne her -blessing on it (albeit her heart throbbed, with the inward affection -of a Mother) without any alteration of countenance, she tenderly laid -it in the servants armes, and said. Here friend, take it, and doe with -it as thy Lord and mine hath commanded thee: but leave it in no rude -place, where birds or savage beasts may devoure it, except it be his -will to have it so. - -The servant departing from her with the child, and reporting to the -Marquesse what his Lady had said; he wondered at her incomparable -constancy. Then he sent it by the same servant to _Bologna_, to an -honourable Lady his kinsewoman, requesting her (without revealing whose -child it was) to see it both nobly and carefully educated. - -At time convenient afterward, being with child againe, and delivered -of a Princely Sonne (then which nothing could be more joyfull to the -Marquesse) yet all this was not sufficient for him; but with farre -ruder language then before, and lookes expressing harsh intentions, -he said unto her. _Grizelda_, though thou pleasest me wonderfully, -by the birth of this Princely Boy, yet my subjects are not therewith -contented, but blunder abroad maliciously; that the grand-child of -_Janiculo_, a poore countrey pezant, when I am dead and gone, must be -their Soveraigne Lord and Master. Which makes me stand in feare of -their expulsion, and to prevent that, I must be rid of this childe, as -well as the other, and then send thee away from hence, that I may take -another wife, more pleasing to them. - -_Grizelda_, with a patient sufferent soule, hearing what he had said, -returned no other answere but this. Most Gracious and Honourable Lord, -satisfie and please your owne Royall minde, and never use any respect -of me: for nothing is precious or pleasing to mee, but what may agree -with your good liking. Within a while after, the Noble Marquesse in -the like manner as he did before for the Daughter, so he sent the same -servant for the Sonne, and seeming as if he had sent it to have been -slaine, conveighed it to be nursed at _Bologna_, in company of his -sweete Sister. Whereat the Lady shewed no other discontentment in any -kinde, then formerly she had done for her Daughter, to the no meane -marvell of the Marquesse, who protested in his soule, that the like -woman was not in all the world beside. And were it not for his heedfull -observation, how loving and carefull she was of her children, prizing -them as dearely as her owne life: rash opinion might have perswaded -him, that she had no more in her, then a carnall affection, not caring -how many she had, so shee might thus easily be rid of them; but he knew -her to be a truely vertuous mother, and wisely liable to endure his -severest impositions. - -His Subjects beleeving, that he had caused the children to bee slaine, -blamed him greatly, thought him to be a most cruell man, and did highly -compassionate the Ladies case: who when shee came in company of other -Gentlewomen, which mourned for their deceased children, would answere -nothing else: but that they could not be more pleasing to her, then -they were to the father that begot them. - -Within certaine yeares after the birth of these children, the Marquesse -purposed with himselfe, to make his last and finall proofe of faire -_Grizeldaes_ patience, and said to some neere about him: that he could -no longer endure, to keepe _Grizelda_ as his wife, confessing, he had -done foolishly, and according to a young giddie braine, when he was so -rash in the marriage of her. Wherefore he would send to the Pope, and -purchase a dispensation from him, to repudiate _Grizelda_, and take -another Wife. Wherein although they greatly reproved him; yet he told -them plainely, that it must needes be so. - -The Lady hearing these newes, and thinking she must returne againe -to her poore fathers house, and (perhaps) to her old occupation of -keeping sheepe, as in her yonger dayes she had done, understanding -withall, that another woman must enjoy him, whom shee dearely loved and -honoured; you may well thinke (worthy Ladies) that her patience was now -put to the maine proofe indeede. Neverthelesse, as with an invincible -true vertuous courage, she had outstood all the other injuries of -Fortune; so did she constantly settle her soule, to beare this with an -undaunted countenance and behaviour. - -At such time as was prefixed for the purpose, counterfeit Letters came -to the Marquesse (as sent from _Rome_) which he caused to be publikely -read in the hearing of his subjects: that the Pope had dispensed with -him, to leave _Griselda_, and marry with another Wife, wherefore, -sending for her immediatly, in presence of them all, thus he spake to -her. Woman, by concession sent me from the Pope, he hath dispensed with -me, to make choyce of another Wife, and to free my selfe from thee. -And because my predecessors have beene Noblemen, and great Lords in -this Country, thou being the daughter of a poore Countrey Clowne, and -their blood and mine notoriously imbased, by my marriage with thee; -I intend to have thee no longer my Wife, but will returne thee home -to thy Fathers house, with all the rich Dowry thou broughtest me; and -then I will take another Wife, with whom I am already contracted, better -beseeming my birth, and farre more contenting and pleasing to my people. - -The Lady hearing these words (not without much paine and difficulty) -restrayned her teares, quite contrary to the naturall inclination -of women, and thus answered. Great Marquesse, I never was so empty -of discretion, but did alwayes acknowledge, that my base and humble -condition, could not in any manner sute with your high blood and -Nobility, and my being with you, I ever acknowledged, to proceed -from heaven and you, not any merit of mine, but onely as a favour -lent me, which you being now pleased to recall backe againe, I ought -to be pleased (and so am) that it bee restored. Here is the Ring, -wherewith you Espoused me; here (in all humility) I deliver it to -you. You command me, to carry home the marriage Dowry which I brought -with me: there is no need of a Treasurer to repay it me, neither any -new purse to carry it in, much lesse any Sumpter to be laden with it. -For (Noble Lord) it was never out of my memory, that you tooke me -starke naked; and if it shall seeme sightly to you, that this body -which hath borne two children, and begotten by you, must againe be -seene naked; willingly must I depart hence naked. But I humbly beg -of your Excellency, in recompence of my Virginity, which I brought -you blamelesse, so much as in thought: that I may have but one of my -wedding Smocks, onely to conceale the shame of nakednesse, and then I -depart rich enough. - -The Marquesse whose heart wept bloody teares, as his eyes would -likewise gladly have yeelded their naturall tribute; covered all with -a dissembled angry countenance, and starting up, said. Goe, give her -a Smocke onely, and so send her gadding. All there present about him, -entreated him to let her have a petticote, because it might not be -said, that she who had been his Wife thirteene yeares and more, was -sent away so poorely in her Smocke: but all their perswasions prevailed -not with him. Naked in her Smocke, without hose or shooes, bareheaded, -and not so much as a Cloth about her necke, to the great griefe and -mourning of all that saw her, she went home to her old fathers house. - -And he (good man) never beleeving, that the Marquesse would long keepe -his daughter as his Wife, but rather expected daily, what now had -happened: safely laid up the garments, whereof the Marquesse despoyled -her, the same morning when he espoused her. Wherefore he delivered -them to her, and she fell to her fathers houshold businesse, according -as formerly she had done; sustayning with a great and unconquerable -spirit, all the cruell assaults of her enemy Fortune. - -About such time after, as suted with his owne disposition, the -Marquesse made publiquely knowne to his subjects, that he meant to -joyne in marriage again, with the daughter to one of the Counts of -_Panago_, and causing preparation to be made for a sumptuous wedding; -he sent for _Grizelda_, and she being come, thus he spake to her. The -Wife that I have made the new election of, is to arrive here within -very few dayes, and at her first comming, I would have her to be most -honourably entertained. Thou knowest I have no women in my house, that -can decke up the Chambers, and set all requisite things in due order, -befitting for so solemne a Feast: and therefore I sent for thee, who -knowing (better then any other) all the partes, provision and goods -in the house, set every thing in such order, as thou shalt thinke -necessary. - -Invite such Ladies and Gentlewomen as thou wilt, and give them welcome, -even as if thou wert the Lady of the house: and when the marriage is -ended, returne then home to thy father againe. - -Although these words pierced like wonding daggers, the heart of poore -(but Noble patient) _Grizelda_, as being unable to forget the unequal'd -love she bare to the Marquesse, though the dignitie of her former -fortune, more easily slipt out of her remembrance; yet neverthelesse, -thus she answered. - -My Gracious Lord, I am glad I can doe you any service; wherein you -shall find mee both willing and ready. In the same poore garments, as -she came from her fathers house, (although shee was turned out in her -Smocke) she began to sweep and make cleane the Chambers, rubbe the -stooles and benches in the Hall, and ordered every in the Kitchin, as -if she were the worst maide in all the house, never ceasing or giving -over, till all things were in due and decent order, as best beseemed in -such a case. After all which was done, the Marquesse, having invited -all the Ladies of the Countrey, to be present at so great a Feast: -when the marriage day came, _Grizelda_, in her gowne of Countrey gray, -gave them welcome, in honourable manner, and graced them all with very -cheerefull countenance. - -_Gualtiero_ the Marquesse, who had caused his two children to be nobly -nourished at _Bologna_, with a neere kinswoman of his, who had married -with one of the Counts of _Panago_, his daughter being now aged twelve -yeares old, and some-what more, as also the Son about sixe or seven. -He sent a Gentleman expresly to his kindred, to have them come and -visite him at _Saluzza_, bringing his daughter and Sonne with them, -attended in very honourable manner, and publishing every where as -they came along, that the young Virgin (knowne to none but himselfe -and them) should be the Wife to the Marquesse, and that onely was the -cause of her comming. The Gentleman was not slacke, in the execution -of the trust reposed in him: but having made convenient preparation, -with the kindred, Sonne, daughter, and a worthy company attending on -them, arrived at _Saluzza_ about dinner time, where wanted no resort, -from all neighbouring parts round about, to see the comming of the Lord -Marquesses new Spouse. - -By the Lords and Ladies she was joyfully entertained, and comming into -the great Hall, where the Tables were readily covered: _Grizelda_, -in her homely Country habite, humbled her selfe before her, saying. -Gracious welcome, to the new elected Spouse of the Lord Marquesse. - -All the Ladies there present, who had very earnestly importuned -_Gualtiero_ (but in vaine) that _Grizelda_, might better be shut up in -some Chamber, or else to lend her the wearing of any other garments, -which formerly had been her owne, because she should not be so poorely -seene among strangers: being seated at the Tables, she waited on them -very serviceably. The yong Virgin was observed by every one, who spared -not to say; that the Marquesse had made an excellent change: but above -them all, _Grizelda_ did most commend her, and so did her brother -likewise, as young as he was, yet not knowing her to be his Sister. - -Now was the Marquesse sufficiently satisfied in his soule, that he had -seene so much as he desired, concerning the patience of his Wife, who -in so many hart-grieving trials, was never noated so much as to alter -her countenance. And being absolutely perswaded, that this proceeded -not from any want of understanding in her, because he knew her to be -singularly wise: he thought it high time now, to free her from these -afflicting oppressions, and give her such assurance as she ought to -have. Wherefore, commanding her into his presence, openly before all -his assembled friends, smiling on her, he said. What thinkst thou -_Grizelda_ of our new chosen Spouse? My Lord (quoth she) I like her -exceeding well, and if she be so wise, as she is faire (which verely -I thinke she is) I make no doubt but you shall live with her, as the -onely happy man of the world. But I humbly entreat your Honour (if I -have any power in me to prevaile by) that you would not give her such -cutting and unkind language, as you did to your other wife: for I -cannot thinke her armed with such patience, as should (indeed) support -them: as wel in regard she is much yonger, as also her more delicate -breeding and education, whereas she who you had before, was brought up -in continual toile and travaile. - -When the Marquesse perceyved, that _Grizelda_ beleeved verily, this -yong daughter of hers should be his wife, and answered him in so honest -and modest manner: he commanded her to sit downe by him, and saide. -_Grizelda_, it is now more then fitte time, that thou shouldst taste -the fruite of thy long admired patience, and that they who have thought -me cruell, harsh and uncivill natured, should at length observe, that -I have done nothing basely, or unadvisedly. For this was a worke -premeditated before, for enstructing thee, what it is to be a married -wife, and to let them know (whosoever they be) how to take and keepe -a wife. Which hath begotten (to me) perpetuall joy and happinesse, -so long as I have a day to live with thee: a matter whereof I stoode -before greatly in feare, and which (in marriage I thought) would never -happen to me. - -It is not unknown to thee, in how many kinds (for my first proofe) -I gave thee harsh and unpleasing speeches, which drawing no -discontentment from thee, either in lookes, words, or behaviour, but -rather such comfort as my soule desired, and so in my other succeedings -afterward: in one minute now, I purpose to give thee that consolation, -which I bereft thee of in many tempestuous stormes, and make a sweet -restauration, for all thy former sower sufferinges. My faire and -dearly affected _Grizelda_, shee whom thou supposest for my new -elected Spouse, with a glad and cheerfull hart, imbrace for thine owne -daughter, and this also her Brother, beeing both of them thy children -and mine, in common opinion of the vulgar multitude, imagined to be (by -my command) long since slaine. I am thy honourable Lord and Husband, -who doth, and will love thee farre above all women else in the world; -giving thee justly this deserved praise and commendation, That no man -living hath the like Wife, as I have. - -So, sweetly kissing her infinitely, and hugging her joyfully in his -armes (the teares now streaming like new-let-loose Rivers, downe her -faire face, which no disaster before could force from her) hee brought -her, and seated her by her daughter, who was not a little amazed at -so rare an alteration. Shee having (in zeale of affection) kissed and -embraced them both, all else there present being clearely resolved -from the former doubt which too long deluded them; the Ladies arose -jocondly from the tables, and attending on _Grizelda_ to her Chamber, -in signe of a more successefull augury to follow: tooke off her poor -contemptible rags, and put on such costly robes, which (as Lady -Marchionesse) she used to weare before. - -Afterward, they waited on her into the Hall againe, being their true -Soveraigne Lady and Mistresse, as she was no lesse in her poorest -Garments; where all rejoycing for the new restored Mother, & happy -recovery of so noble a son and daughter, the Festivall continued many -months after. Now every one thought the Marquesse to be a noble and -wise Prince, though somewhat sharpe and unsufferable, in the severe -experiences made of his wife: but (above al) they reputed _Grizelda_, -to be a most wise, patient, & vertuous Lady. The Count of _Panago_, -within few daies after returned backe to _Bologna_; and the Lord -Marques, fetching home old _Janiculo_ from his country drudgery, to -live with him (as his Father in law) in his Princely Palace, gave -him honorable maintenance, wherein hee long continued, and ended his -daies. Afterward, he matched his daughter in a Noble marriage: he -and _Grizelda_ living long time together, in the highest honor that -possibly could be. - -What can now be saide to the contrary, but that poore Country Cottages, -may yeeld as divine & excellent spirits, as the most stately and -Royall mansions, which breed and bring uppe some, more worthy to be -Hog-rubbers, then hold any soveraignty over men? Where is any other -(beside _Grizelda_) who not only without a wet eye, but imboldned by a -valiant and invincible courage: that can suffer the sharpe rigours, and -(never the like heard of proofes) made by the Marquesse? Perhaps he -might have met with another, who would have quitted him in a contrary -kinde, and for thrusting her forth of doores in her smocke, could have -found better succor somewhere else, rather then walke so nakedly in the -cold streets. - - * * * * * - -_Dioneus_ having thus ended his Novel, and the Ladies delivering their -severall judgements, according to their owne fancies, some holding -one conceite, others leaning to the contrary; one blaming this thing, -and another commending that, the King lifting his eyes to heaven, and -seeing the Sun began to fall** low, by rising of the Evening Starre; -without arising from his seat, spake as followeth. Discreet Ladies, I -am perswaded you know sufficiently, that the sense and understanding of -us mortals, consisteth not onely (as I think) by preserving in memory -things past, or knowledge of them present; but such as both by the one -and other, know how to foresee future occasions, are worthily thought -wise, and of no common capacity. - -It will be (to morrow) fifteene dayes, since we departed from the -City of _Florence_, to come hither for our pastime and comfort, the -conservation of our lives, and support of our health, by avoyding those -melanchollies, griefes, and anguishes, which we beheld daylie in our -City, since the pestilentiall visitation beganne there, wherein (by my -judgement) we have done well and honestly. Albeit some light Novels, -perhaps attractive to a little wantonnes, as some say, and our Joviall -feasting with good cheare, singing and dancing, may seeme matters -inciting to incivility, especially in weake and shallow understandings. -But I have neither seene, heard, or knowne, any acte, word, or -whatsoever else, either on your part or ours, justly deserving to be -blamed: but all has bin honest, as in a sweete and hermonious concord, -such as might well beseeme the communitie of Brethren and Sisters; -which assuredly, as well in regard of you, as us, hath much contented -me. - -And therefore, least by over-long consuetude, something should take -life, which might be converted to a bad construction, & by our country -demourance for so many dayes, some captious conceit may wrest out an -ill imagination; I am of the minde (if yours be the like) seeing each -of us hath had the honor, which now remaineth still on me: that it is -very fitting for us, to returne thither from whence we came. And so -much the rather, because this sociable meeting of ours, which already -hath wonne the knowledge of many dwellers here about us, should not -grow to such an increase, as might make our purposed pastime offensive -to us. In which respect (if you allow of my advise) I will keepe -the Crowne till our departing hence; the which I intend shall be to -morrow: but if you determine otherwise, I am the man ready to make my -resignation. - -Many imaginations passed amongst the Ladies, and likewise the men, but -yet in the end, they reputed the Kings counsell to bee the best and -wisest, concluding to do as he thought convenient. Whereupon, hee called -the Master of the housholde, and conferred with him, of the businesse -belonging to the next morning, and then gave the company leave to rise. -The Ladies and the rest, when they were risen, fel some to one kinde of -recreation, and others as their fancies served them, even as (before) -they had done. And when Supper time came, they dispatcht it in very -loving manner. Then they began to play on instruments, sing and dance, -and Madame _Lauretta_ leading the dance: the King commaunded Madame -_Fiammetta_ to sing a song, which pleasantly she began in this manner. - - _THE SONG._ - - The Chorus sung by all the rest of the Company. - - _If Love were free from Jealousie, - No Lady living, - Had lesse heart-greeving, - Or liv'd so happily as I._ - - _If gallant youth - In a faire friend, a woman could content, - If vertues prize, valour and hardiment, - Wit, carriage, purest eloquence, - Could free a woman from impatience: - Then I am she can vaunt (if I were wise) - All these in one faire flower, - Are in my power, - And yet I boast no more but trueth. - If Love were free from jealousie, &c._ - - _But I behold - That other Women are as wise as I - Which killes me quite, - Fearing false sirquedrie. - For when my fire begins to flame - Others desires misguide my aim, - And so bereaves me of secure delight. - Onely through fond mistrust, he is unjust: - Thus are my comforts hourely hot and cold. - If Love were free, &c._ - - _If in my friend, - I found like faith, as manly minde I know; - Mistrust were slaine. - But my fresh griefes still grow, - By sight of such as do allure, - So I can thinke none true, none sure, - But all would rob me of my golden gaine. - Loe thus I dye, in Jelousie, - For losse of him, on whom I most depend. - If Love were free, &c._ - - _Let me advise - Such Ladies as in Love are bravely bold, - Not to wrong me, I scorne to be controld. - If any one I chance to finde. - By winkes, words, smiles, in crafty kinde, - Seeking for that, which onely mine should be: - Then I protest, to do my best, - And make them know, that they are scarsly wise._ - - _If Love were free from jealousie, - I know no Lady living, - Could have lesse heart-greeving, - Or live so happily as I._ - -So soone as Madam _Fiammetta_ had ended her Song; _Dioneus_, who sate -by her, smiling said. Truly Madam, you may do us a great courtesie, to -express your selfe more plainly to us all, least (thorow ignorance) -the possession may be imposed on your selfe, and so you remaine the -more offended. After the Song was past, divers other were sung beside, -and it now drawing wel-neere midnight, by the Kings command, they all -went to bed. And when new day appeared, and all the world awaked out -of sleepe, the Master of the Houshold having sent away the carriages; -they returned (under the conduct of their discreet King) to _Florence_, -where the three Gentlemen left the seven Ladies at the Church of -_Santa Maria Novella_, from whence they went with them at the first. -And having parted with kinde salutations; the Gentlemen went whether -themselves best pleased, and the Ladies repaired home to their houses. - - -_The End of the Tenth and Last Day._ - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Decameron (Day 6 to Day 10), by -Giovanni Boccaccio - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 52618 *** diff --git a/old/52618-h/52618-h.htm b/old/52618-h/52618-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 7c418d5..0000000 --- a/old/52618-h/52618-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16984 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Decameron: The Last Five Days, by Giovanni Boccaccio. - </title> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} -.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} -.p6 {margin-top: 6em;} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; - clear: both; -} - -hr.tb {width: 45%;} -hr.chap {width: 65%} -hr.full {width: 95%;} - -hr.r5 {width: 5%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em;} -hr.r65 {width: 65%; margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em;} - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; -} /* page numbers */ - -.blockquot { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - -.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} - -.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} - -.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} - -.br {border-right: solid 2px;} - -.bbox {border: solid 2px;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.u {text-decoration: underline;} - -.gesperrt -{ - letter-spacing: 0.2em; - margin-right: -0.2em; -} - -em.gesperrt -{ - font-style: normal; -} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - - -/* Poetry */ -.poem { - margin-left:10%; - margin-right:10%; - text-align: left; -} - -.poem br {display: none;} - -.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} - - .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i11 {display: block; margin-left: 5.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i12 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i20 {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i5 {display: block; margin-left: 2.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i7 {display: block; margin-left: 3.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - .poem span.i9 {display: block; margin-left: 4.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 52618 ***</div> - - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 576px;"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="576" alt="titlepage" /> -</div> - -<h1>THE<br /> -DECAMERON</h1> - -<h2>CONTAINING<br /> -An hundred pleasant<br /> -Novels.</h2> - -<h3><i>Wittily discoursed, betweene<br /> -seven Honourable Ladies, and<br /> -three Noble Gentlemen.</i></h3> - - -<h4>The last Five Dayes.</h4> - - -<h4>London, Printed by<br /> -Isaac Jaggard,<br /> -1620.</h4> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="TO_THE_RIGHT_HONOURABLE" id="TO_THE_RIGHT_HONOURABLE">TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE -Sir <span class="smcap">Phillip Herbert</span>,</a></h2> -<h4>Knight, Lord Baron of Sherland, Earle of -Montgomery, and Knight of the most Noble -order of the Garter.</h4> - - -<p><i>Having (by your Honorable command) -translated this</i> Decameron, <i>or</i> Cento -Novelle, <i>sirnamed</i> Il Principe -Galeotto, <i>of ten dayes severall discourses, -grounded on variable and singuler -Arguments, happening betweene -seaven Noble Ladies, and three very -Honourable Gentlemen: Although not attyred in such elegantcy -of phrase, or nice curiosity of stile, as a quicker and more -sprightly wit could have performed, but in such home-borne -language, as my ability could stretch unto; yet it commeth (in -all duty) to kisse your Noble hand, and to shelter it selfe under -your Gracious protection, though not from the leering eye, and -over-lavish tongue of snarling Envy; yet from the power of his -blasting poyson, and malice of his machinations.</i></p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="To_the_Reader" id="To_the_Reader"><i>To the Reader.</i></a></h2> - - -<p>Bookes (Courteous Reader) may -rightly be compared to <i>Gardens</i>; -wherein, let the painfull Gardiner -expresse never so much care and -diligent endeavour; yet among -the very fairest, sweetest, and freshest -Flowers, as also Plants of -most precious Vertue; ill favouring and stinking -Weeds, fit for no use but the fire or mucke-hill, will -spring and sprout up. So fareth it with Bookes of the -very best quality, let the Author bee never so indulgent, -and the Printer vigilant: yet both may misse -their ayme, by the escape of Errors and Mistakes, either -in sense or matter, the one fault ensuing by a ragged -Written Copy; and the other thorough want of -wary Correction. If then the best Bookes cannot be -free from this common infirmity; blame not this -then, of farre lighter argument, wherein thy courtesie -may helpe us both: His blame, in acknowledging -his more sufficiency, then to write so grosse and absurdly: -And mine, in pardoning unwilling Errors -committed, which thy judgement finding, thy pen -can as easily correct.</p> - -<blockquote> -<p><i>Farewell.</i></p></blockquote> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<blockquote> - -<h2>The Table</h2> - -<h4><a href="#TO_THE_RIGHT_HONOURABLE">The Dedication.</a></h4> - -<h4><a href="#To_the_Reader">To the Reader.</a></h4> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3><a href="#THE_SIXT_DAY">THE SIXT DAY,<br /> -Governed under Madame -Eliza.</a></h3> - - -<p><i>Wherein the Discourses or Novels there to bee -recounted, doe concerne such persons; who by -some witty words (when any have taunted -them) have revenged themselves, in a sudden, -unexpected and discreet answere, thereby preventing -losse, danger, scorne and disgrace, retorting -them on the busi-headed Questioners.</i></p> - -<h4><a href="#A_Knight_requested_Madam_Oretta_to_ride_behinde_him_on_horse-backe_and">The argument of the first Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>A Knight requested Madame</i> Oretta, <i>to ride behinde -him on horsebacke, and promised, to tell her an excellent -Tale by the way. But the Lady perceiving, -that his discourse was idle, and much worse delivered: entreated -him to let her walke on foote againe.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Reprehending the folly of such men, as undertake -to report discourses, which are beyond their wit and -capacity, and gaine nothing but blame for their labour.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Cistio_a_Baker_by_a_wittie_answer_which_he_gave_unto_Messer_Geri_Spina">The argument of the second Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Cistio <i>a Baker, by a witty answere which he gave unto</i> -Messer Geri Spina, <i>caused him to acknowledge a very -indiscreet motion, which he had made to the said</i> Cistio.</p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Approving, that a request ought to be civill, before -it should be granted to any one whatsoever.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Madame_Nonna_de_Pulci_by_a_sodaine_answere_did_put_to_silence_a_Byshop">The Argument of the third Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Madam Nonna de Pulci, <i>by a sodaine answere, did put -to silence a Bishop of</i> Florence, <i>and the Lord Marshall: -having mooved a question to the said Lady, which seemed -to come short of honesty.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is declared, that mockers doe sometimes -meet with their matches in mockery, and to -their owne shame.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Chichibio_the_Cooke_to_Messer_Currado_Gianfiliazzi_by_a_sodaine_pleasant">The Argument of the fourth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Chichibio, <i>the Cooke to</i> Messer Currado Gianfiliazzi, -<i>by a sodaine pleasant answere which he made to his Master; -converted his anger into laughter, and thereby escaped -the punishment, that</i> Messer <i>meant to impose on him.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Whereby plainely appeareth, that a sodaine witty, -and merry answere, doth oftentimes appease the furious -choller of an angry man.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Messer_Forese_da_Rabatte_and_Maister_Giotto_a_Painter_by_his_profession">The Argument of the fift Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Messer Forese da Rabatte, <i>and Maister</i> Giotto, <i>a -Painter by his profession, comming together from</i> Mugello, -<i>scornefully reprehended one another for their deformity -of body.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Whereby may be observed, that such as will speake -contemptibly of others, ought (first of all) to looke -respectively on their owne imperfections.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#A_young_and_ingenious_Scholler_being_unkindly_reviled_and_smitten_by_his_ignorant">The Argument of the sixt Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>A young and ingenious Scholler, being unkindly reviled and -smitten by his ignorant Father, and through the procurement -of an unlearned Vicare; afterward attained to bee -doubly revenged on him.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Serving as an advertisement to unlearned Parents, -not to be over-rash, in censuring on Schollers imperfections, -through any bad or unbeseeming perswasions.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Madam_Phillippa_being_accused_by_her_Husband_Rinaldo_de_Pugliese">The Argument of the seaventh Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Madame Phillippa, <i>being accused by her Husband</i> Rinaldo -de Pugliese, <i>because he tooke her in Adultery, -with a young Gentleman named</i> Lazarino de Guazzagliotori: -<i>caused her to bee cited before a Judge. From whom -she delivered her selfe, by a sodaine, witty, and pleasant -answere, and moderated a severe strict Statute, formerly -made against women.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is declared, of what worth it is to confesse -a truth, with a facetious and witty excuse.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Fresco_da_Celatico_counselled_and_advised_his_Neece_Cesca_That_if_such">The Argument of the eighth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Fresco da Celatico, <i>counselled and advised his Neece</i> -Cesca: <i>That if such as deserved to bee looked on, were -offensive to her eyes (as she had often told him;) she should -forbeare to looke on any.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>In just scorne of such unsightly and ill-pleasing -surly Sluts, who imagine none to bee faire or well-favoured, -but themselves.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Signior_Guido_Cavalcante_with_a_sodaine_and_witty_answer_reprehended">The Argument of the ninth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Signior Guido Cavalcante, <i>with a sodaine and witty answere, -reprehended the rash folly of certaine Florentine -Gentlemen, that thought to scorne and flout him.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Notably discovering the great difference that is -betweene learning and ignorance, upon Judicious -apprehension.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Fryer_Onyon_promised_certaine_honest_people_of_the_Countrey_to_shew_them">The Argument of the tenth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Frier</i> Onyon <i>promised certaine honest people of the Country, -to shew them a Feather of the same Phoenix, that was -with</i> Noah <i>in his Arke. In sted whereof, he found Coales, -which he avouched to be those very coales, wherewith the -same Phoenix was roasted.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein may be observed, what palpable abuses -doe many times passe, under the counterfeit Cloake -of Religion.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3><a href="#The_Seventh_Day">THE -SEAVENTH DAY,<br /> -Governed under the Regiment -of <span class="smcap">Dioneus</span>.</a></h3> - -<p><i>Wherein the Discourses are directed, for the discovery -of such policies and deceits, as women -have used for beguiling of their Husbands, either -in respect of their love, or for the prevention -of some blame or scandall; escaping without -sight, knowledge, or otherwise.</i></p> - - -<h4><a href="#John_of_Lorraine_heard_one_knocke_at_his_doore_in_the_night_time_whereuppon">The Argument of the first Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>John <i>of</i> Lorraine <i>heard one knocke at his doore in -the night time, whereupon he awaked his Wife</i> Monna -Tessa. <i>Shee made him beleeve, that it was a -Spirit which knocked at the doore, and so they arose, going -both together to conjure the Spirit with a charme; -and afterwards, they heard no more knocking.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Reprehending the simplicity of some sottish Husbands: -And discovering the wanton subtilties of -some women, to compasse their unlawfull desires.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Peronella_hid_a_young_man_her_friend_and_Lover_under_a_great_brewing_Fat">The Argument of the second Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Peronella <i>hid a young man her Friend and Lover, under a -great brewing Fat, uppon the sodaine returning home of -her Husband; who tolde her, that he had sold the saide Fat, -and brought him that bought it, to carry it away.</i> Peronella -<i>replyed, That shee had formerly solde it unto another, who -was now underneath it, to see whether it were whole and -sound, or no. Whereupon, he being come forth from under -it; shee caused her Husband to make it neate and cleane, -and so the last buyer carried it away.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is declared, what hard and narrow shifts -and distresses, such as be seriously linked in Love, -are many times enforced to undergoe: according as -their owne wit, and capacity of their surprizers, drive -them to extremities.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Friar_Reynard_falling_in_love_with_a_Gentlewoman_Wife_to_a_man_of_good">The Argument of the third Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Friar</i> Reynard, <i>falling in love with a Gentlewoman, Wife -to a man of good account; found the meanes to become her -Gossip. Afterward, he being conferring closely with her in -her Chamber, and her Husband comming sodainely thither: -she made him beleeve, that he came thither for no other ende; -but to cure his God-sonne by a charme, of a dangerous disease -which he had by wormes.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Serving as a friendly advertisement to married Women, -that Monks, Friars, and Priests may be none of -their Gossips, in regard of unavoydable perils ensuing -thereby.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Tofano_in_the_night_season_did_locke_his_wife_out_of_his_house_and_shee_not">The Argument of the fourth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Tofano <i>in the night season, did locke his Wife out of his -house, and she not prevailing to get entrance againe, by all -the entreaties shee could possibly use: made him beleeve -that shee had throwne her selfe into a Well, by casting a -great stone into the same Well.</i> Tofano <i>hearing the fall -of the stone into the Well, and being perswaded that it was -his Wife indeede; came forth of his house, and ranne to the -Welles side. In the meane while, his Wife gotte into the -house, made fast the doore against her Husband, and gave -him many reprochfull speeches.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is manifested, that the malice and subtilty -of a woman, surpasseth all the Art or wit in man.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#A_jealous_man_clouded_with_the_habite_of_a_Priest_became_the_Confessour_to">The Argument of the fift Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>A jealous man, clouded with the habite of a Priest, became -the Confessour to his owne Wife; who made him beleeve, -that she was deepely in love with a Priest, which came every -night, and lay with her. By meanes of which confession, -while her jealous Husband watched the doore of his -house; to surprise the Priest when he came: she that never -meant to doe amisse, had the company of a secret friend -who came over the toppe of the house to visite her, while -her foolish Husband kept the doore.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>In just scorne and mockery of such jealous Husbands, -that wil be idle headed upon no occasion. And -yet when they have good reason for it, doe least of all -suspect any such injury.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Madame_Isabella_delighting_in_the_company_of_her_affected_Friend_named">The Argument of the sixth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Madame</i> Isabella, <i>delighting in the company of her affected -friend, named</i> Lionello, <i>and she being likewise beloved -by</i> Signior Lambertuccio: <i>At the same time as shee -had entertained</i> Lionello, <i>she was also visited by</i> Lambertuccio. -<i>Her Husband returning home in the very instant; -she caused</i> Lambertuccio <i>to runne foorth with a drawne -sword in his hand, and (by that meanes) made an excuse sufficient -for</i> Lionello <i>to her Husband.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is manifestly discerned, that if Love be driven -to a narrow straite in any of his attempts; yet hee -can accomplish his purpose by some other supply.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Lodovico_discovered_to_his_Mistresse_Madame_Beatrix_how_amorously_he">The Argument of the seaventh Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Lodovico <i>discovered to his Mistresse Madame</i> Beatrix, -<i>how amourously he was affected to her. She cunningly sent</i> -Egano <i>her Husband into his garden, in all respects disguised -like herselfe; while (friendly)</i> Lodovico <i>conferred -with her the meane while. Afterward,</i> Lodovico <i>pretending -a lascivious allurement of his Mistresse, thereby to wrong -his honest Master, instead of her, beateth</i> Egano <i>soundly in -the Garden.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Whereby is declared, that such as keepe many honest -seeming servants, may sometime finde a knave -among them, and one that proves to bee over-sawcy -with his Master.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Arriguccio_Berlinghieri_became_immeasurably_jelous_of_his_Wife_Simonida">The Argument of the Eight Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Arriguccio Berlinghieri, <i>became immeasurably jealous of his Wife</i> -Simonida, <i>who fastened a thred about her great toe, for to serve as a -signall, when her amourous friend should come to visite her.</i> Arriguccio -<i>findeth the fallacy, and while he pursueth the amorous friend, shee -causeth her Maide to lie in her bed against his returne: whom he beateth -extreamly, cutting away the lockes of her haire (thinking he had -done all this violence to his Wife</i> Simonida:) <i>and afterward fetcheth -her Mother and Brethren, to shame her before them, and so be rid of -her. But they finding all his speeches to be false; and reputing him to be -a drunken jealous foole; all the blame and disgrace falleth on himselfe.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Whereby appeareth, that an Husband ought to be very well advised, -when he meaneth to discover any wrong offered by his Wife; except he -himselfe doe rashly run into all the shame and reproch.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Lydia_a_Lady_of_great_beauty_birth_and_honour_being_wife_to_Nicostratus">The Argument of the Ninth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Lydia, <i>a Lady of great beauty, birth, and honour, being Wife to</i> Nicostratus, -<i>Governour of</i> Argos, <i>falling in love with a Gentleman, named</i> -Pyrrhus; <i>was requested by him (as a true testimony of her unfeigned -affection) to performe three severall actions of her selfe. She did accomplish -them all, and imbraced and kissed</i> Pyrrhus <i>in the presence of</i> -Nicostratus; <i>by perswading him, that whatsoever he saw, was meerely -false.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is declared, that great Lords may sometime be deceived by -their wives, as well as men of meaner condition.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Two_Citizens_of_Siena_the_one_named_Tingoccio_Mini_the_other_Meucio">The Argument of the tenth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Two Citizens of</i> Sienna, <i>the one named</i> Tingoccio Mini, <i>and the other</i> -Meucio di Tora, <i>affected both one woman, called</i> Monna Mita, -<i>to whom the one of them was a Gossip. The Gossip dyed, and appeared -afterward to his companion, according as he had formerly promised -him to doe, and told him what strange wonders he had seene in the other -world.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein such men are covertly reprehended, who make no care or -conscience at all of those things that should preserve them from sinne.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3><a href="#THE_EIGHT_DAY">THE EIGHTH DAY,<br /> -Governed under Madame -<span class="smcap">Lauretta</span>.</a></h3> - -<p><i>Whereon all the Discourses, is, Concerning such -Witty deceivings, as have, or may be put in practise, -by Wives to their Husbands, Husbands to -their Wives, Or one man towards another.</i></p> - - -<h4><a href="#Gulfardo_made_a_match_or_wager_with_the_Wife_of_Gasparuolo_for_the">The Argument of the First Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Gulfardo <i>made a match or wager, with the wife of</i> Gasparuolo, -<i>for the obtaining of her amorous favour, in regard of a -summe of money first to be given her. The money he borrowed -of her Husband, and gave it in payment to her, as in case of discharging -him from her Husbands debt. After his returne home from</i> -Geneway, <i>he told him in the presence of his wife, how hee had payde -the whole summe to her, with charge of delivering it to her Husband, -which she confessed to be true, albeit greatly against her will.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is declared, That such women as will make sale of their honestie, -are sometimes over-reached in their payment, and justly served -as they should be.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#A_lustie_youthfull_Priest_of_Varlungo_fell_in_love_with_a_pretty_woman_named">The Argument of the second Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>A lusty Priest of</i> Varlungo, <i>fell in love with a pretty woman, named</i> -Monna Belcolore. <i>To compasse his amorous desire, hee left his -cloake (as a pledge of further payment) with her. By a subtile sleight -afterward, he borrowed a morter of her, which when hee sent home againe -in the presence of her husband, he demanded to have his Cloake -sent him, as having left it in pawne for the Morter. To pacifie her Husband, -offended that she did not lend the Priest the Morter without a -pawne: she sent him backe his Cloake againe, albeit greatly against hir -will.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Approving, that no promise is to be kept with such women as will make -sale of their honesty for Coine.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Calandrino_Bruno_and_Buffalmaco_all_of_them_being_Painters_by">The Argument of the Third Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Calandrino, Bruno, <i>and</i> Buffalmaco, <i>being Painters by profession, -travailed to the Plaine of</i> Mugnone, <i>to finde the precious stone -called Helitropium.</i> Calandrino <i>perswading himselfe to have found -it, returned home to his house heavy loaden with stones. His wife rebuking -him for his absence, he groweth into anger, and shrewdly beates -her. Afterward, when the case is debated by his other friends</i> Bruno <i>&</i> -Buffalmaco, <i>all is found to be meere folly.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Reprehending the simplicity of such men, as are too much addicted to -credulity, and will give credit to every thing they heare.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#The_Provost_belonging_to_the_Cathedrall_Church_of_Fiesola_fell_in_love">The Argument of the Fourth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>The Provost belonging to the Cathedrall Church of</i> Fiesola, <i>fell in -love with a Gentlewoman, being a widdow, and named</i> Piccarda, -<i>who hated him as much as he loved her. He immagining that he lay -with her: by the Gentlewomans Brethren, and the Bishop under whom -he served, was taken in bed with her Mayde, an ugly, foule, deformed -Slut.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is declared, how love oftentimes is so powerfull in aged men, -and driveth them to such doating, that it redoundeth to their great -disgrace and punishment.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Three_pleasant_Companions_plaide_a_merry_pranke_with_a_Judge_belonging">The Argument of the fift Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Three pleasant companions, plaid a merry prank with a Judge -(belonging to the Marquesate of</i> Ancona) <i>at</i> Florence, <i>at -such time as he sat on the bench, & hearing criminall causes.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Giving admonition, that for the managing of publike -affaires, no other persons are or ought to bee appointed, -but such as be honest, and meet to sit on the -seate of Authority.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Bruno_and_Buffalmaco_did_steale_a_young_Brawne_from_Calandrino">The Argument of the sixt Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Bruno <i>and</i> Buffalmaco <i>stole a young Brawne from</i> Calandrino, <i>and -for his recovery thereof, they used a kinde of pretended conjuration, -with Pils made of Ginger and strong Malmesey. But insted of this -application, they gave him two pils of a Dogges dates or dousets, confected -in Alloes, by meanes whereof they made him beleeve, that hee had -robd himselfe. And for feare they should report this theft to his Wife, -they made him to buy another Brawne.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is declared, how easily a plaine and simple man may bee -made a foole, when he dealeth with crafty companions.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#A_young_Gentleman_being_a_Scholler_fell_in_love_with_a_Ladie_named">The Argument of the seaventh Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>A young Gentleman being a Scholler, fell in love with a Ladie, named</i> -Helena, <i>she being a woman, and addicted in affection unto another -Gentleman. One whole night in cold winter, she caused the Scholler to -expect her comming, in an extreame frost and snow. In revenge whereof, -by his imagined Art and skill, he made her to stand naked on the top -of a Tower, the space of a whole day, and in the hot moneth of July, to be -Sun-burnt and bitten with Waspes and Flies.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Serving as an admonition to all Gentlewomen, not to mocke Gentlemen -Schollers, when they make meanes of love to them, except -they intend to seeke their owne shame by disgracing them.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Two_neere_dwelling_Neighbours_the_one_beeing_named_Spinelloccio">The Argument of the eighth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Two neere dwelling Neighbours, the one beeing named</i> Spinelloccio -Tavena, <i>and the other</i> Zeppa di Mino, <i>frequenting each -others company daily together;</i> Spinelloccio <i>Cuckolded his Friend -and Neighbour. Which happening to the knowledge of</i> Zeppa, <i>hee -prevailed so well with the Wife of</i> Spinelloccio, <i>that he being lockt up -in a Chest, hee revenged his wrong at that instant, so that neyther of -them complained of his misfortune.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is approved, that hee which offereth shame and disgrace -to his neighbour, may receive the like injury (if not worse) by the -same man.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Maestro_Simone_an_ydle-headed_Doctor_of_Physicke_was_throwne_by">The Argument of the Ninth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Maestro</i> Simone, <i>an idle headed Doctor of Physicke, was thrown by</i> -Bruno <i>and</i> Buffalmaco <i>into a common Leystall of filth: the Physitian -fondly beleeving, that (in the night time) he should be made one -of a new created company, who usually went to see wonders at</i> Corsica, -<i>and there in the Leystall they left him.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Approving, that titles of honour, learning, and dignity, are not alwayes -bestowne on the wisest men.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#A_Cicilian_Courtezane_named_Madame_Biancafiore_by_her_craftie">The Argument of the tenth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>A Cicilian Curtezan, named Madam</i> Biancafiore, <i>by her subtle policy -deceived a young Merchant called</i> Salabetto, <i>of all his mony he -had taken for his wares at</i> Palermo. <i>Afterward, he making shew of coming -thither againe with far richer Merchandises then before: made -the meanes to borrow a great summe of money, leaving her so base a -pawne, as well requited her for her former cousenage.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Approving, that such as meet with cunning Harlots, suffering them -selves to be deceyved, must sharpen their wits, to make them requitall -in the same kind.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3><a href="#THE_NINTH_DAY">THE NINTH DAY,<br /> -Governed under Madame -Æmillia.</a></h3> - -<p>Whereon, the Argument of each severall Discourse, is -not limited to any one peculiar subject: but everie -one remaineth at liberty, to speake of whatsoever -themselves best pleaseth.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Madam_Francesca_a_Widdow_of_Pistoya_being_affected_by_two_Florentine">The Argument of the first Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Madam</i> Francesca, <i>a Widow of</i> Pistoya, <i>being affected by two -Florentine Gentlemen, the one named</i> Rinuccio Palermini, -<i>and the other</i> Alessandro Chiarmontesi, <i>and she bearing -no good will to either of them, ingeniously freed her selfe from both -their importunate suites. One of them shee caused to lye as dead in a -grave, and the other to fetch him from thence: so neither of them accomplishing -what they were enjoyned, failed of their expectation.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Approving, that chast and honest women, ought rather to deny importunate -suiters, by subtle and ingenious means, then fall into the danger -of scandall and slander.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Madame_Usimbalda_Lady_Abbesse_of_a_Monastery_of_Nuns_in_Lombardie">The Argument of the second Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Madame</i> Usimbalda, <i>Lady Abbesse of a Monastery of Nuns in</i> Lombardie, -<i>arising hastily in the night time without a Candle, to take -one of her Daughter Nunnes in bed with a young Gentleman, whereof -she was enviously accused, by certaine of her other Sisters: The -Abbesse her selfe (being at the same time in bed with a Priest) imagining -to have put on her head her plaited vayle, put on the Priests -breeches. Which when the poore Nunne perceyved; by causing the -Abbesse to see her owne error, she got her selfe to be absolved, and had -the freer liberty afterward, to be more familiar with her friend, then -formerly she had bin.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Whereby is declared, that whosoever is desirous to reprehend sinne in -other men, should first examine himselfe, that he be not guiltie of -the same crime.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Master_Simon_the_Physitian_by_the_perswasions_of_Bruno_Buffalmaco">The Argument of the third Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Master</i> Simon <i>the Physitian, by the perswasions of</i> Bruno, Buffalmaco, -<i>and a third Companion, named</i> Nello, <i>made</i> Calandrino <i>to -beleeve, that he was conceived great with childe. And having Physicke -ministred to him for the disease: they got both good fatte Capons -and money of him, and so cured him, without any other manner -of deliverance.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Discovering the simplicity of some silly witted men, and how easie a -matter it is to abuse and beguile them.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Francesco_Fortarigo_played_away_all_that_he_had_at_Buonconvento">The Argument of the Fourth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Francesco Fortarigo, <i>played away all that he had at</i> Buonconvento, -<i>and likewise the money of</i> Francesco Aniolliero, <i>being his Master: -Then running after him in his shirt, and avouching that hee had -robbed him: he caused him to be taken by Pezants of the Country, -clothed himselfe in his Masters wearing garments, and (mounted -on his horse) rode thence to</i> Sienna, <i>leaving</i> Aniolliero <i>in his shirt, -and walked bare-footed.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Serving as an admonition to all men, for taking Gamesters and Drunkards -into their service.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Calandrino_became_extraordinarily_enamoured_of_a_young_Damosell">The Argument of the fifte Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Calandrino <i>became extraordinarily enamoured of a young Damosell, -named</i> Nicholetta. Bruno <i>prepared a Charme or writing for him, -avouching constantly to him, that so soone as he touched the Damosell -therewith, she should follow him whithersoever hee would have -her. She being gone to an appointed place with him, hee was found -there by his wife, and dealt withall according to his deserving.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>In just reprehension of those vaine-headed fooles, that are led and governed -by idle perswasions.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Two_young_Gentlemen_the_one_named_Panuccio_and_the_other_Adriano">The Argument of the Sixth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Two young Gentlemen, the one named</i> Panuccio, <i>and the other</i> Adriano, -<i>lodged one night in a poore Inne, whereof one of them went to -bed to the Hostes daughter, and the other (by mistaking his way in -the darke) to the Hostes wife. He which lay with the daughter, hapned -afterward to the Hostes bed, and told him what he had done, as -thinking he spake to his owne companion. Discontentment growing -betweene them, the mother perceiving her error, went to bed to her -daughter, and with discreete language, made a generall pacification.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is manifested, that an offence committed ignorantly, and -by mistaking; ought to be covered with good advise, and civill discretion.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Talano_de_Molese_dreamed_That_a_Wolfe_rent_and_tore_his_wives_face">The Argument of the seaventh Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Talano de Molese <i>dreamed, That a Wolfe rent and tore his wives face -and throate. Which dreame he told to her, with advise to keep her -selfe out of danger; which she refusing to doe, received what followed.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Whereby (with some indifferent reason) it is concluded, that Dreames -do not alwayes fall out to be leasings.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Blondello_in_a_merry_manner_caused_Guiotto_to_beguile_himselfe_of">The Argument of the Eight Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Blondello <i>(in a merry manner) caused</i> Guiotto <i>to beguile himselfe of -a good dinner: for which deceit,</i> Guiotto <i>became cunningly revenged, -by procuring</i> Blondello <i>to be unreasonably beaten and misused.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Whereby plainly appeareth, that they which take delight in deceiving -others, do well deserve to be deceived themselves.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Two_young_Gentlemen_the_one_named_Melisso_borne_in_the_City_of_Laiazzo">The Argument of the Ninth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Two young Gentlemen, the one named</i> Melisso, <i>borne in the City of</i> Laiazzo: -<i>and the other</i> Giosefo <i>of</i> Antioch, <i>travailed together unto</i> -Salomon, <i>the famous King of</i> Great Britaine. <i>The one desiring to -learne what he should do, whereby to compasse and winne the love of -men. The other craved to be enstructed, by what meanes hee might -reclaime an headstrong and unruly wife. And what answeres the -wise King gave unto them both, before they departed away from -him.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Containing an excellent admonition, that such as covet to have the -love of other men, must first learne themselves, how to love: Also, by -what meanes such women as are curst and self willed, may be reduced -to civill obedience.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#John_de_Barolo_at_the_instance_and_request_of_his_Gossip_Pietro_da">The Argument of the tenth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>John de Barolo, <i>at the instance and request of his Gossip</i> Pietro da -Trefanti, <i>made an enchantment, to have his Wife become a Mule. -And when it came to the fastening on of the taile, Gossip</i> Pietro <i>by -saying she should have no taile at all, spoyled the whole enchantment.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>In just reproofe of such foolish men, as will be governed by over-light -beleefe.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3><a href="#The_Tenth_and_last_Day">THE TENTH DAY,<br /> -Governed under Pamphilus.</a></h3> - -<p><i>Whereon the severall Arguments doe Concerne -such persons, as other by way of Liberality, or -in Magnificent manner, performed any worthy -action, for love, favor, friendship, or any other -honourable occasion.</i></p> - - -<h4><a href="#A_Florentine_knight_named_Signior_Rogiero_de_Figiovanni_became">The Argument of the First Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>A Florentine knight, named Signior</i> Rogiero de Figiovanni, -<i>became a servant to</i> Alphonso, <i>King of</i> Spaine, <i>who (in -his owne opinion) seemed but sleightly to respect and reward -him. In regard whereof, by a notable experiment, the King gave him -a manifest testimony, that it was not through any defect in him, but -onely occasioned by the Knights ill fortune; most bountifully recompensing -him afterward.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein may evidently be discerned, that Servants to Princes and great -Lords, are many times recompenced, rather by their good fortune, -then in any regard of their dutifull services.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Ghinotto_di_Tacco_tooke_the_Lord_Abbot_of_Clugni_as_his_prisoner">The Argument of the second Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Ghinotto di Tacco; <i>tooke the Lord Abbot of</i> Clugni <i>as his prisoner, -and cured him of a grievous disease, which he had in his stomacke, -and afterward set him at liberty. The same Lord Abbot, when hee -returned from the Court of Rome, reconciled</i> Ghinotto <i>to Pope</i> Boniface; -<i>who made him a Knight, and Lord Prior of a goodly Hospitall.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is declared that good men doe sometimes fall into bad conditions, -onely occasioned thereto by necessity: And what meanes are to -be used, for their reducing to goodnesse againe.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Mithridanes_envying_the_life_and_liberality_of_Nathan_and_travelling">The Argument of the third Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Mithridanes <i>envying the life and liberality of</i> Nathan, <i>and travelling -thither, with a setled resolution to kill him: chaunceth to conferre -with</i> Nathan <i>unknowne. And being instructed by him, in what -manner he might best performe the bloody deede, according as hee -gave direction, hee meeteth with him in a small Thicket or Woode, -where knowing him to be the same man, that taught him how to -take away his life: Confounded with shame, hee acknowledgeth his -horrible intention, and becommeth his loyall friend.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Shewing in an excellent and lively demonstration, that any especiall -honourable vertue, persevering and dwelling in a truly noble soule, -cannot be violenced or confounded, by the most politicke attemptes -of malice and envy.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Signior_Gentile_de_Carisendi_being_come_from_Modena_took_a_Gentlewoman">The Argument of the fourth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Signior Gentile de Carisendi, <i>being come from</i> Modena, <i>tooke a Gentlewoman, -named Madam</i> Catharina, <i>forth of a grave, wherein she -was buried for dead; which act he did, in regard of his former honest -affection to the said Gentlewoman. Madame</i> Catharina <i>remaining -there afterward, and delivered of a goodly Sonne: was (by</i> Signior -Gentile) <i>delivered to her owne Husband; named</i> Signior Nicoluccio -Caccianimico, <i>and the young infant with her.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is shewne, That true love hath alwayes bin, and so still is, the -occasion of many great and worthy courtesies.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Madame_Dianora_the_Wife_of_Signior_Gilberto_being_immodestly">The Argument of the Fift Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Madame</i> Dianora, <i>the Wife of Signior</i> Gilberto, <i>being immodestly -affected by Signior</i> Ansaldo, <i>to free herselfe from his tedious importunity, -she appointed him to performe (in her judgement) an act -of impossibility; namely, to give her a Garden, as plentifully stored -with fragrant Flowers in January, as in the flourishing moneth of</i> -May. Ansaldo, <i>by meanes of a bond which he made to a Magitian, -performed her request. Signior</i> Gilberto, <i>the Ladyes Husband, -gave consent, that his Wife should fulfill her promise made to</i> -Ansaldo. <i>Who hearing the bountifull mind of her Husband; released -her of her promise: And the Magitian likewise discharged -Signior</i> Ansaldo, <i>without taking any thing of him.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Admonishing all Ladies and Gentlewomen, that are desirous to preserve -their chastity, free from all blemish and taxation: to make no -promise of yeelding to any, under a compact or covenant, how impossible -soever it may seeme to be.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Victorious_King_Charles_sirnamed_the_Aged_and_first_of_that_Name">The Argument of the Sixt Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Victorious</i> King Charles, <i>sirnamed the Aged, and first of that Name, -fell in love with a young Maiden, named</i> Genevera, <i>daughter to an -Ancient Knight, called Signior</i> Neri degli Uberti. <i>And waxing ashamed -of his Amorous folly, caused both</i> Genevera, <i>and her fayre -Sister</i> Isotta, <i>to be joyned in marriage with two Noble Gentlemen; -the one named</i> Signior Maffeo da Palizzi, <i>and the other,</i> Signior -Gulielmo della Magna.</p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Sufficiently declaring, that how mighty soever the power of Love is: -yet a magnanimous and truly generous heart, it can by no meanes -fully conquer.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Lisana_the_Daughter_of_a_Florentine_Apothecary_named_Bernardo">The Argument of the seaventh Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Lisana, <i>the Daughter of a Florentine Apothecary, named</i> Bernardo -Puccino, <i>being at</i> Palermo, <i>and seeing</i> Piero, <i>King of</i> Aragon <i>run -at the Tilt; fell so affectionately enamored of him, that she languished -in an extreame and long sickenesse. By her owne devise, and means -of a Song, sung in the hearing of the King: he vouchsafed to visite -her, and giving her a kisse, terming himselfe also to bee her Knight -for ever after, hee honourably bestowed her in marriage on a young -Gentleman, who was called</i> Perdicano, <i>and gave him liberall endowments -with her.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is covertly given to understand, that howsoever a Prince -may make use of his absolute power and authority, towards Maides -or Wives that are his Subjects: yet he ought to deny and reject all -things, as shall make him forgetfull of himselfe, and his true honour.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Sophronia_thinking_her_selfe_to_be_the_maried_wife_of_Gisippus_was">The Argument of the Eight Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Sophronia, <i>thinking her selfe to be the maried wife of</i> Gisippus, <i>was -(indeed) the wife of</i> Titus Quintus Fulvius, <i>& departed thence with -him to Rome. Within a while after,</i> Gisippus <i>also came thither in very -poore condition, and thinking that he was despised by</i> Titus, <i>grew weary -of his life, and confessed that he had murdred a man, with full intent -to die for the fact. But</i> Titus <i>taking knowledge of him, and desiring to -save the life of</i> Gisippus, <i>charged himself to have done the bloody deed. -Which the murderer himself (standing then among the multitude) seeing, -truly confessed the deed. By meanes whereof, all three were delivered -by the Emperor</i> Octavius; <i>and</i> Titus <i>gave his Sister in mariage to</i> -Gisippus, <i>giving them also the most part of his goods & inheritances.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Declaring, that notwithstanding the frownes of Fortune, diversity -of occurrences, and contrary accidents happening: yet love and friendship -ought to be preciously preserved among men.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Saladine_the_great_Soldan_of_Babylon_in_the_habite_of_a_Merchant">The Argument of the Ninth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Saladine, <i>the great</i> Soldan <i>of</i> Babylon, <i>in the habite of a Merchant, -was honourably received and welcommed, into the house of Signior</i> -Thorello d'Istria. <i>Who travelling to the Holy Land, prefixed a -certaine time to his Wife, for his returne backe to her againe, wherein, -if he failed, it was lawfull for her to take another Husband. By -clouding himselfe in the disguise of a Faulkner, the</i> Soldan <i>tooke -notice of him, and did him many great honours. Afterward,</i> Thorello -<i>falling sicke, by Magicall Art, he was conveighed in one night -to</i> Pavia, <i>when his Wife was to be married on the morrow: where -making himselfe knowne to her, all was disappointed, and shee went -home with him to his owne house.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Declaring what an honourable vertue Courtesie is, in them that truely -know how to use them.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#The_Marquesse_of_Saluzzo_named_Gualtiero_being_constrained_by">The Argument of the tenth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>The Marquesse of</i> Saluzzo, <i>named</i> Gualtiero, <i>being constrained by -the importunate solliciting of his Lords, and other inferiour people, to -joyne himselfe in marriage; tooke a woman according to his owne liking, -called</i> Grizelda, <i>she being the daughter of a poore Countriman, -named</i> Janiculo, <i>by whom he had two children, which he pretended to -be secretly murdered. Afterward, they being grown to yeres of more -stature, and making shew of taking in marriage another wife, more -worthy of his high degree and Calling: made a seeming publique liking -of his owne daughter, expulsing his wife</i> Grizelda <i>poorely from -him. But finding her incomparable patience; more dearely (then before) -hee received her into favour againe, brought her home to his -owne Pallace, where (with her children) hee caused her and them to -be respectively honoured, in despight of all her adverse enemies.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Set downe as an example or warning to all wealthie men, how to have -care of marrying themselves. And likewise to poore and meane women, -to be patient in their fortunes, and obedient to their husbands.</p></blockquote> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="THE_SIXT_DAY" id="THE_SIXT_DAY">THE SIXT DAY.</a></h2> - -<h4><i>Governed under the Authority of Madam Eliza, and the Argument of the -Discourses or Novels there to be recounted, doe concerne such persons; who -by some witty words (when any have checkt or taunted them) have revenged -themselves, in a sudden, unexpected and discreet answere, thereby -preventing loss, danger, scorne and disgrace, retorting them on the busi-headed -Questioners.</i></h4> - -<h4>The Induction.</h4> - - -<p>The Moone having past the heaven, lost -her bright splendor, by the arising of a -more powerfull light, and every part of -our world began to looke cleare: when -the Queene (being risen) caused all the -Company to be called, walking forth afterward -upon the pearled dewe (so farre -as was supposed convenient) in faire and -familiar conference together, according -as severally they were disposed, & repetition -of divers the passed Novels, especially -those which were most pleasing, and seemed so by their present commendations. -But the Sunne beeing somewhat higher mounted, gave -such a sensible warmth to the ayre, as caused their returne backe to the -Pallace, where the Tables were readily covered against their comming, -strewed with sweet hearbes and odoriferous flowers, seating themselves -at the Tables (before the heat grew more violent) according as the -Queene commanded.</p> - -<p>After dinner, they sung divers excellent Canzonnets, and then some -went to sleepe, others played at the Chesse, and some at the Tables: -But <i>Dioneus</i> and Madam <i>Lauretta</i>, they sung the love-conflict betweene -<i>Troylus</i> and <i>Cressida</i>. Now was the houre come, of repairing to their -former Consistory or meeting place, the Queene having thereto generally -summoned them, and seating themselves (as they were wont to doe) -about the faire fountaine. As the Queene was commanding to begin -the first Novell, an accident suddenly happened, which never had befalne -before: to wit, they heard a great noyse and tumult, among the -houshold servants in the Kitchin. Whereupon, the Queene caused the -Master of the Houshold to be called, demaunding of him, what noyse it -was, and what might be the occasion thereof? He made answere, that -<i>Lacisca</i> and <i>Tindaro</i> were at some words of discontentment, but what -was the occasion thereof, he knew not. Whereupon, the Queene commanded -that they should be sent for, (their anger and violent speeches -still continuing) and being come into her presence, she demaunded the -reason of their discord; and <i>Tindaro</i> offering to make answere, <i>Lacisca</i> -(being somewhat more ancient then he, and of a fiercer fiery spirit, even -as if her heart would have leapt out of her mouth) turned her selfe to -him, and with a scornefull frowning countenance, said. See how this -bold, unmannerly and beastly fellow, dare presume to speake in this -place before me: Stand by (saucy impudence) and give your better -leave to answere; then turning to the Queene, thus shee proceeded.</p> - -<p>Madam, this idle fellow would maintaine to me, that Signior <i>Sicophanto</i> -marrying with <i>Madama della Grazza</i>, had the victory of her virginity -the very first night: and I avouched the contrary, because shee -had been a mother twise before, in very faire adventuring of her fortune. -And he dared to affirme beside, that young Maides are so simple, as -to loose the flourishing Aprill of their time, in meere feare of their parents, -and great prejudice of their amourous friends. Onely being abused -by infinite promises, that this yeare and that yeare they shall have -husbands, when, both by the lawes of nature and reason, they are not -tyed to tarry so long, but rather ought to lay hold upon opportunity, -when it is fairely and friendly offered, so that seldome they come maides -to marriage. Beside, I have heard, and know some married wives, that -have played divers wanton prancks with their husbands, yet carried all -so demurely and smoothly; that they have gone free from publique detection. -All which this woodcocke will not credit, thinking me to be so -young a Novice, as if I had been borne but yesterday.</p> - -<p>While <i>Lacisca</i> was delivering these speeches, the Ladies smiled on -one another, not knowing what to say in this case: And although the -Queene (five and or severall times) commaunded her to silence; yet -such was the earnestnes of her spleen, that she gave no attention, but held -on still even untill she had uttered all that she pleased. But after she had -concluded her complaint, the Queene (with a smiling countenance) -turned towards <i>Dioneus</i> saying. This matter seemeth most properly to -belong to you; and therefore I dare repose such trust in you, that when -our Novels (for this day) shall be ended, you will conclude the case -with a definitive sentence. Whereto <i>Dioneus</i> presently thus replyed. -Madam, the verdict is already given, without any further expectation: -and I affirme, that <i>Lacisca</i> hath spoken very sensibly, because shee is a -woman of good apprehension, and <i>Tindaro</i> is but a puny, in practise and -experience, to her.</p> - -<p>When <i>Lacisca</i> heard this, she fell into a lowd Laughter, and turning -her selfe to <i>Tindaro</i>, sayde: The honour of the day is mine, and -thine owne quarrell hath overthrowne thee in the fielde. Thou that -(as yet) hath scarsely learned to sucke, wouldest thou presume to know -so much as I doe? Couldst thou imagine mee, to be such a trewant in -losse of my time, that I came hither as an ignorant creature? And had -not the Queene (looking verie frowningly on her) strictly enjoyned -her to silence; shee would have continued still in this triumphing humour. -But fearing further chastisement for disobedience, both shee -and <i>Tindaro</i> were commanded thence, where was no other allowance -all this day, but onely silence and attention, to such as should be enjoyned -speakers.</p> - -<p>And then the Queene, somewhat offended at the folly of the former -controversie, commanded Madame <i>Philomena</i>, that she should give beginning -to the dayes Novels: which (in dutifull manner) shee undertooke -to doe, and seating her selfe in formall fashion, with modest and -very gracious gesture, thus she began.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="A_Knight_requested_Madam_Oretta_to_ride_behinde_him_on_horse-backe_and" id="A_Knight_requested_Madam_Oretta_to_ride_behinde_him_on_horse-backe_and"><i>A Knight requested Madam</i> Oretta, <i>to ride behinde him on horse-backe, and -promised, to tell her an excellent Tale by the way. But the Lady perceiving, -that his discourse was idle, and much worse delivered: entreated him to -let her walke on foote againe.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The First Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Reprehending the folly of such men, as undertake to report discourses, which -are beyond their wit and capacity, and gaine nothing but blame for their labour.</i></h4> - - -<p>Gracious Ladies, like as in our faire, cleere, and -serene seasons, the Starres are bright ornaments -to the heavens, and the flowry fields (so long as -the spring time lasteth) weare their goodliest Liveries, -the Trees likewise bragging in their best -adornings: Even so at friendly meetings, short, -sweet, and sententious words, are the beauty & -ornament of any discourse, savouring of wit and -sound judgement, worthily deserving to be commended. And so much -the rather, because in few and witty words, aptly suting with the time -and occasion, more is delivered then was expected, or sooner answered, -then rashly apprehended: which, as they become men verie highly, yet -do they shew more singular in women.</p> - -<p>True it is, what the occasion may be, I know not, either by the badnesse -of our wittes, or the especiall enmitie betweene our complexions -and the celestiall bodies: there are scarsely any, or very few Women to -be found among us, that well knowes how to deliver a word, when it -should and ought to be spoken; or, if a question bee mooved, understands -to suite it with an apt answere, such as conveniently is required, -which is no meane disgrace to us women. But in regard, that Madame -<i>Pampinea</i> hath already spoken sufficiently of this matter, I meane not to -presse it any further: but at this time it shall satisfie mee, to let you -know, how wittily a Ladie made due observation of opportunitie, -in answering of a Knight, whose talke seemed tedious and offensive to -her.</p> - -<p>No doubt there are some among you, who either do know, or (at -the least) have heard, that it is no long time since, when there dwelt a -Gentlewoman in our Citie, of excellent grace and good discourse, with -all other rich endowments of Nature remaining in her, as pitty it were -to conceale her name: and therefore let me tell ye, that shee was called -Madame <i>Oretta</i>, the Wife to Signior <i>Geri Spina</i>. She being upon some -occasion (as now we are) in the Countrey, and passing from place to -place (by way of neighbourly invitations) to visite her loving Friends -and Acquaintance, accompanied with divers Knights and Gentlewomen, -who on the day before had dined and supt at her house, as now -(belike) the selfe-same courtesie was intended to her: walking along with -her company upon the way; and the place for her welcome beeing further -off then she expected: a Knight chanced to overtake this faire troop, -who well knowing Madam <i>Oretta</i>, using a kinde and courteous salutation, -spake thus unto her.</p> - -<p>Madam, this foot travell may bee offensive to you, and were you so -well pleased as my selfe, I would ease your journey behinde mee on my -Gelding, even so farre as you shall command me: and beside, wil shorten -your wearinesse with a Tale worth the hearing. Courteous Sir (replyed -the Lady) I embrace your kinde offer with such acceptation, that -I pray you to performe it; for therein you shall doe me an especiall favour. -The Knight, whose Sword (perhappes) was as unsuteable to -his side, as his wit out of fashion for any readie discourse, having the -Lady mounted behinde him: rode on with a gentle pace, and (according -to his promise) began to tell a Tale, which indeede (of it selfe) deserved -attention, because it was a knowne and commendable History, -but yet delivered so abruptly, with idle repetitions of some particulars -three or foure severall times, mistaking one thing for another, and -wandering erroneously from the essentiall subject, seeming neere an -end, and then beginning againe: that a poore Tale could not possibly -be more mangled, or worse tortured in telling, then this was; for the -persons therein concerned, were so abusively nicke-named, their actions -and speeches so monstrously misshapen, that nothing could appeare -to be more ugly.</p> - -<p>Madame <i>Oretta</i>, being a Lady of unequalled ingenuitie, admirable -in judgement, and most delicate in her speech, was afflicted in soule, beyond -all measure; overcome with many colde sweates, and passionate -heart-aking qualmes, to see a Foole thus in a Pinne-fold, and unable to -get out, albeit the doore stood wide open to him, whereby shee became -so sicke; that, converting her distaste to a kinde of pleasing acceptation, -merrily thus she spake. Beleeve me Sir, your horse trots so hard, & travels -so uneasily; that I entreate you to let me walke on foot againe.</p> - -<p>The Knight, being (perchance) a better understander, then a Discourser; -perceived by this witty taunt, that his Bowle had run a contrarie -bias, and he as farre out of Tune, as he was from the Towne. So, -lingering the time, untill her company was neerer arrived: hee lefte -her with them, and rode on as his Wisedome could best direct him.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Cistio_a_Baker_by_a_wittie_answer_which_he_gave_unto_Messer_Geri_Spina" id="Cistio_a_Baker_by_a_wittie_answer_which_he_gave_unto_Messer_Geri_Spina">Cistio <i>a Baker, by a wittie answer which he gave unto</i> Messer Geri Spina, -<i>caused him to acknowledge a very indiscreete motion, which he had made -to the said</i> Cistio.</a></h4> - -<h2>The Second Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Approving, that a request ought to be civill, before it should be granted to any -one whatsoever.</i></h4> - - -<p>The words of Madame <i>Oretta</i>, were much commended by the -men and women; and the discourse being ended, the Queene -gave command to Madam <i>Pampinea</i>, that shee should follow -next in order, which made her to begin in this manner.</p> - -<p>Worthy Ladies, it exceedeth the power of my capacitie, to censure -in the case whereof I am to speake, by saying, who sinned most, either -Nature, in seating a Noble soule in a vile body, or Fortune, in bestowing -on a body (beautified with a noble soule) a base or wretched condition -of life. As we may observe by <i>Cistio</i>, a Citizen of our owne, and -many more beside; for, this <i>Cistio</i> beeing endued with a singular good -spirit, Fortune hath made him no better then a Baker. And beleeve me -Ladies, I could (in this case) lay as much blame on Nature, as on Fortune; -if I did not know Nature to be most absolutely wise, & that Fortune -hath a thousand eyes, albeit fooles have figured her to bee blinde. -But, upon more mature and deliberate consideration, I finde, that they -both (being truly wise and judicious) have dealt justly, in imitation of -our best advised mortals, who being uncertaine of such inconveniences, -as may happen unto them, do bury (for their own benefit) the very best -and choisest things of esteeme, in the most vile and abject places of their -houses, as being subject to least suspition, and where they may be sure to -have them at all times, for supply of any necessitie whatsoever, because -so base a conveyance hath better kept them, then the very best chamber -in the house could have done. Even so these two great commanders of -the world, do many times hide their most precious Jewels of worth, under -the clouds of Arts or professions of worst estimation, to the end, that -fetching them thence when neede requires, their splendor may appeare -to be the more glorious. Nor was any such matter noted in our homely -Baker <i>Cistio</i>, by the best observation of <i>Messer Geri Spina</i>, who was spoken -of in the late repeated Novell, as being the husband to Madame <i>Oretta</i>; -whereby this accident came to my remembrance, and which (in a -short Tale) I will relate unto you.</p> - -<p>Let me then tell ye, that Pope <i>Boniface</i> (with whom the fore-named -<i>Messer Geri Spina</i> was in great regard) having sent divers Gentlemen of -his Court to <i>Florence</i> as Ambassadors, about very serious and important -businesse: they were lodged in the house of <i>Messer Geri Spina</i>, and -he employed (with them) in the saide Popes negotiation. It chanced, -that as being the most convenient way for passage, every morning they -walked on foot by the Church of Saint <i>Marie d'Ughi</i>, where <i>Cistio</i> the -Baker dwelt, and exercised the trade belonging to him. Now although -Fortune had humbled him to so meane a condition, yet shee added a -blessing of wealth to that contemptible quality, and (as smiling on him -continually) no disasters at any time befell him, but still he flourished in -riches, lived like a jolly Citizen, with all things fitting for honest entertainment -about him, and plenty of the best Wines (both White and -Claret) as <i>Florence</i>, or any part thereabout yeelded.</p> - -<p>Our frolicke Baker perceiving, that <i>Messer Geri Spina</i> and the other -Ambassadors, used every morning to passe by his doore, and afterward -to returne backe the same way: seeing the season to be somewhat hot & -soultry, he tooke it as an action of kindnesse and courtesie, to make them -an offer of tasting his white wine. But having respect to his own meane -degree, and the condition of <i>Messer Geri</i>; hee thought it farre unfitting -for him, to be so forward in such presumption; but rather entred into -consideration of some such meanes, whereby <i>Messer Geri</i> might bee the -inviter of himselfe to taste his Wine. And having put on him a trusse -or thin doublet, of very white and fine Linnen cloath, as also breeches, -and an apron of the same, and a white cap upon his head, so that he seemed -rather to be a Miller, then a Baker: at such times as <i>Messer Geri</i> and -the Ambassadors should daily passe by, hee set before his doore a new -Bucket of faire water, and another small vessell of <i>Bologna</i> earth (as new -and sightly as the other) full of his best and choisest white Wine, with -two small Glasses, looking like silver, they were so cleare. Downe he -sate, with all this provision before him, and emptying his stomacke -twice or thrice, of some clotted flegmes which seemed to offend it: even -as the Gentlemen were passing by, he dranke one or two rouses of his -Wine so heartily, and with such a pleasing appetite, as might have moved -a longing (almost) in a dead man.</p> - -<p><i>Messer Geri</i> well noting his behaviour, and observing the verie same -course in him two mornings together; on the third day (as he was drinking) -he said unto him. Well done <i>Cistio</i>, what, is it good, or no? <i>Cistio</i> -starting up, forthwith replyed: Yes Sir, the wine is good indeed, but how -can I make you to beleeve me, except you taste of it? <i>Messer Geri</i>, eyther -in regard of the times quality, or by reason of his paines taken, perhaps -more then ordinary, or else, because hee saw <i>Cistio</i> had drunke so -sprightly, was very desirous to taste of the Wine, and turning unto the -Ambassadors, in merriment he saide. My Lords, me thinks it were not -much amisse, if we tooke a taste of this honest mans Wine, perhaps it is -so good, that we shall not neede to repent our labour.</p> - -<p>Heereupon, he went with them to <i>Cistio</i>, who had caused an handsome -seate to be fetched forth of his house, whereon he requested them -to sit downe, and having commanded his men to wash cleane the Glasses, -he saide. Fellowes, now get you gone, and leave me to the performance -of this service; for I am no worse a skinker, then a Baker, and tarry -you never so long, you shall not drinke a drop. Having thus spoken, -himselfe washed foure or five small glasses, faire and new, and causing a -Viall of his best wine to be brought him: hee diligently filled it out to -<i>Messer Geri</i> and the Ambassadours, to whom it seemed the very best -Wine, that they had drunke of in a long while before. And having given -<i>Cistio</i> most hearty thankes for his kindnesse, and the Wine his due -commendation: many dayes afterwardes (so long as they continued -there) they found the like courteous entertainment, and with the good -liking of honest <i>Cistio</i>.</p> - -<p>But when the affayres were fully concluded, for which they were thus -sent to <i>Florence</i>, and their parting preparation in due readinesse: <i>Messer -Geri</i> made a very sumptuous Feast for them, inviting thereto the most -part of the honourablest Citizens, and <i>Cistio</i> to be one amongst them; -who (by no meanes) would bee seene in an assembly of such State and -pompe, albeit he was thereto (by the saide <i>Messer Geri</i>) most earnestly -entreated.</p> - -<p>In regard of which deniall, <i>Messer Geri</i> commaunded one of his servants, -to take a small Bottle, and request <i>Cistio</i> to fill it with his good -Wine; then afterward, to serve it in such sparing manner to the Table, -that each Gentleman might be allowed halfe a glasse-full at their down-sitting. -The Serving-man, who had heard great report of the Wine, -and was halfe offended, because he could never taste thereof: tooke a -great Flaggon Bottle, containing foure or five Gallons at the least, and -comming there-with unto <i>Cistio</i>, saide unto him. <i>Cistio</i>, because my -Master cannot have your companie among his friends, he prayes you -to fill this Bottle with your best Wine. <i>Cistio</i> looking uppon the huge -Flaggon, replied thus. Honest Fellow, <i>Messer Geri</i> never sent thee -with such a Message to me: which although the Servingman very stoutly -maintained, yet getting no other answer, he returned backe therewith -to his Master.</p> - -<p><i>Messer Geri</i> returned the Servant backe againe unto <i>Cistio</i>, saying: -Goe, and assure <i>Cistio</i>, that I sent thee to him, and if hee make thee any -more such answeres, then demaund of him, to what place else I -should send thee? Being come againe to <i>Cistio</i>, hee avouched that his -Maister had sent him, but <i>Cistio</i> affirming, that hee did not: the Servant -asked, to what place else hee should send him? Marrie (quoth -<i>Cistio</i>) unto the River of <i>Arno</i>, which runneth by <i>Florence</i>, there thou -mayest be sure to fill thy Flaggon. When the Servant had reported -this answer to <i>Messer Geri</i>, the eyes of his understanding beganne to open, -and calling to see what Bottle hee had carried with him: no sooner -looked he on the huge Flaggon, -but severely reproving the -sawcinesse of his Servant, hee -sayde. Now trust mee, <i>Cistio</i> -told thee nothing but trueth, for -neither did I send thee with any -such dishonest message, nor had -the reason to yeeld or grant it.</p> - -<p>Then he sent him with a bottle -of more reasonable competencie, -which so soone as <i>Cistio</i> -saw: Yea mary my friend, quoth -he, now I am sure that thy Master -sent thee to me, and he shall -have his desire with all my hart. -So, commaunding the Bottle to -be filled, he sent it away by the -Servant, and presently following -after him, when he came unto <i>Messer Geri</i>, he spake unto him after -this manner. Sir, I would not have you to imagine, that the huge flaggon -(which first came) did any jotte dismay mee; but rather I conceyved, -that the small Viall whereof you tasted every morning, yet filled many -mannerly Glasses together, was fallen quite out of your remembrance; -in plainer tearmes, it beeing no Wine for Groomes or Peazants, -as your selfe affirmed yesterday. And because I meane to bee -a Skinker no longer, by keeping Wine to please any other pallate -but mine owne: I have sent you halfe my store, and heereafter thinke -of mee as you shall please. <i>Messer Geri</i> tooke both his guifte and -speeches in most thankefull manner, accepting him alwayes after, as -his intimate Friend, because he had so graced him before the Ambassadours.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Madame_Nonna_de_Pulci_by_a_sodaine_answere_did_put_to_silence_a_Byshop" id="Madame_Nonna_de_Pulci_by_a_sodaine_answere_did_put_to_silence_a_Byshop">Madame Nonna de Pulci, <i>by a sodaine answere, did put to silence a Byshop -of</i> Florence, <i>and the Lord Marshall: having moved a question to the said -Lady, which seemed to come short of honesty.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Third Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is declared, that mockers do sometimes meete with their matches in -mockery, and to their owne shame.</i></h4> - - -<p>When Madame <i>Pampinea</i> had ended her Discourse, and -(by the whole company) the answere and bounty of <i>Cistio</i>, -had past with deserved commendation: it pleased -the Queene, that Madame <i>Lauretta</i> should next succeed: -whereupon verie chearefully thus she beganne.</p> - -<p>Faire assembly, Madame <i>Pampinea</i> (not long time since) gave beginning, -and Madam <i>Philomena</i> hath also seconded the same argument, -concerning the slender vertue remaining in our sexe, and likewise the -beautie of wittie words, delivered on apt occasion, and in convenient -meetings. Now, because it is needlesse to proceede any further, then -what hath beene already spoken: let mee onely tell you (over and beside) -and commit it to memorie, that the nature of meetings and speeches -are such, as they ought to nippe or touch the hearer, like unto the -Sheepes nibling on the tender grasse, and not as the sullen Dogge byteth. -For, if their biting be answereable to the Dogges, they deserve -not to be termed witty jests or quips, but foule and offensive language: -as plainly appeareth by the words of Madame <i>Oretta</i>, and the merry, yet -sensible answer of <i>Cistio</i>.</p> - -<p>True it is, that if it be spoken by way of answer, and the answerer biteth -doggedly, because himselfe was bitten in the same manner before: -he is the lesse to bee blamed, because hee maketh payment but with -coine of the same stampe. In which respect, an especiall care is to bee -had, how, when, with whom, and where we jest or gibe, whereof very -many proove too unmindfull, as appeared (not long since) by a Prelate -of ours, who met with a byting, no lesse sharpe and bitter, then -had first come from himselfe before, as verie briefely I intend to tell -you how.</p> - -<p><i>Messer Antonio d'Orso</i>, being Byshoppe of <i>Florence</i>, a vertuous, wise, -and reverend Prelate; it fortuned that a Gentleman of <i>Catalogna</i>, named -<i>Messer Diego de la Ratta</i>, and Lord Marshall to King <i>Robert</i> of <i>Naples</i>, -came thither to visite him. Hee being a man of very comely personage, -and a great observer of the choysest beauties in Court: among -all the other <i>Florentine</i> Dames, one proved to bee most pleasing in his -eye, who was a verie faire Woman indeede, and Neece to the Brother -of the saide <i>Messer Antonio</i>.</p> - -<p>The Husband of this Gentlewoman (albeit descended of a worthie -Family) was, neverthelesse, immeasurably covetous, and a verie vile -harsh natured man. Which the Lord Marshall understanding, made -such a madde composition with him, as to give him five hundred Ducates -of Gold, on condition, that hee would let him lye one night with -his wife, not thinking him so base minded as to give consent. Which in -a greedy avaritious humour he did, and the bargaine being absolutely agreed -on; the Lord Marshall prepared to fit him with a payment, such -as it should be. He caused so many peeces of silver to be cunningly guilded, -as then went for currant mony in <i>Florence</i>, and called <i>Popolines</i>, & -after he had lyen with the Lady (contrary to her will and knowledge, -her husband had so closely carried the businesse) the money was duely -paid to the cornuted Coxcombe. Afterwards, this impudent shame -chanced to be generally knowne, nothing remaining to the wilful Wittoll, -but losse of his expected gaine, and scorne in every place where he -went. The Bishop likewise (beeing a discreete and sober man) would -seeme to take no knowledge thereof; but bare out all scoffes with a well -setled countenance.</p> - -<p>Within a short while after, the Bishop and the Lord Marshal (alwaies -conversing together) it came to passe, that upon Saint <i>Johns</i> day, they -riding thorow the City, side by side, and viewing the brave beauties, -which of them might best deserve to win the prize; the Byshop espied a -young married Lady (which our late greevous pestilence bereaved us of) -she being named Madame <i>Nonna de Pulci</i>, and Cousine to <i>Messer Alexio -Rinucci</i>, a Gentleman well knowne unto us all. A very goodly beautifull -young woman she was, of delicate language, and singular spirite, -dwelling close by S. <i>Peters</i> gate. This Lady did the Bishop shew to the -Marshall, and when they were come to her, laying his hand uppon her -shoulder, he said. Madam <i>Nonna</i>, What thinke you of this Gallant? -Dare you adventure another wager with him?</p> - -<p>Such was the apprehension of this witty Lady, that these words seemed -to taxe her honour, or else to contaminate the hearers understanding, -whereof there were great plenty about her, whose judgement -might be as vile, as the speeches were scandalous. Wherefore, never -seeking for any further purgation of her cleare conscience, but onely to -retort taunt for taunt, presently thus she replied. My Lord, if I should -make such a vile adventure, I would looke to bee payde with better -money.</p> - -<p>These words being heard both by the Bishop and Marshall, they felt -themselves touched to the quicke, the one, as the Factor or Broker, for -so dishonest a businesse, to the Brother of the Bishop; and the other, as -receiving (in his owne person) the shame belonging to his Brother. So, -not so much as looking each on other, or speaking one word together -all the rest of that day, they rode away with blushing cheekes. Whereby -we may collect, that the young Lady, being so injuriously provoked, -did no more then well became her, to bite their basenesse neerely, that -so abused her openly.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Chichibio_the_Cooke_to_Messer_Currado_Gianfiliazzi_by_a_sodaine_pleasant" id="Chichibio_the_Cooke_to_Messer_Currado_Gianfiliazzi_by_a_sodaine_pleasant">Chichibio, <i>the Cooke to</i> Messer Currado Gianfiliazzi, <i>by a sodaine pleasant -answer which he made to his Master; converted his anger into laughter, -and thereby escaped the punishment, that</i> Messer <i>meant to impose on -him.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Fourth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Whereby plainly appeareth, that a sodaine witty and merry answer, doth oftentimes -appease the furious choller of an angry man.</i></h4> - - -<p>Madam <i>Lauretta</i> sitting silent, and the answer of Lady <i>Nonna</i> -having past with generall applause: the Queene commanded -Madame <i>Neiphila</i> to follow next in order; who instantly -thus began. Although a ready wit (faire Ladies) -doth many times affoord worthy and commendable speeches, -according to the accidents happening to the speaker: yet notwithstanding, -Fortune (being a ready helper divers wayes to the timorous) -doth often tippe the tongue with such a present reply, as the partie to -speake, had not so much leysure as to thinke on, nor yet to invent; as I -purpose to let you perceive, by a pretty short Novell.</p> - -<p><i>Messer Currado Gianfiliazzi</i> (as most of you have both seene and knowen) -living alwayes in our Citie, in the estate of a Noble Citizen, beeing -a man bountifull, magnificent, and within the degree of Knighthoode: -continually kept both Hawkes and Hounds, taking no meane -delight in such pleasures as they yeelded, neglecting (for them) farre -more serious imployments, wherewith our present subject presumeth -not to meddle. Upon a day, having kilde with his Faulcon a Crane, -neere to a Village called <i>Peretola</i>, and finding her to be both young and -fat, he sent it to his Cooke, a <i>Venetian</i> borne, and named <i>Chichibio</i>, with -command to have it prepared for his supper. <i>Chichibio</i>, who resembled -no other, then (as he was indeede) a plaine, simple, honest merry fellow, -having drest the Crane as it ought to bee, put it on the spit, and laide it -to the fire.</p> - -<p>When it was well neere fully roasted, and gave forth a very delicate -pleasing savour; it fortuned that a young Woman dwelling not far off, -named <i>Brunetta</i>, and of whom <i>Chichibio</i> was somewhat enamored, entred -into the Kitchin, and feeling the excellent smell of the Crane, to -please her beyond all savours, that ever she had felt before: she entreated -<i>Chichibio</i> verie earnestly, that hee would bestow a legge thereof on -her. Whereto <i>Chichibio</i> (like a pleasant companion, and evermore delighting -in singing) sung her this answer.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>My</i> Brunetta, <i>faire and feat a,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i8"><i>Why should you say so?</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>The meate of my Master,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Allowes you for no Taster,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i8"><i>Go from the Kitchin go.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>Many other speeches past betweene them in a short while, but in the -end, <i>Chichibio</i>, because hee would not have his Mistresse <i>Brunetta</i> angrie -with him; cut away one of the Cranes legges from the spit, and gave it -to her to eate. Afterward, when the Fowle was served up to the Table -before <i>Messer Currado</i>, who had invited certain strangers his friends -to sup with him, wondering not a little, he called for <i>Chichibio</i> his Cook; -demanding what was become of the Cranes other legge? Whereto -the <i>Venetian</i> (being a lyar by Nature) sodainely answered: Sir, Cranes -have no more but one legge each Bird. <i>Messer Currado</i>, growing verie -angry, replyed. Wilt thou tell me, that a Crane hath no more but one -legge? Did I never see a Crane before this? <i>Chichibio</i> persisting resolutely -in his deniall, saide. Beleeve me Sir, I have told you nothing but -the truth, and when you please, I wil make good my wordes, by such -Fowles as are living.</p> - -<p>Messer <i>Currado</i>, in kinde love to the strangers that hee had invited to -supper, gave over any further contestation; onely he said. Seeing thou -assurest me, to let me see thy affirmation for truth, by other of the same -Fowles living (a thing which as yet I never saw, or heard of) I am content -to make proofe thereof to morrow morning, till then I shall rest satisfied: -but, upon my word, if I finde it otherwise, expect such a sound -payment, as thy knavery justly deserveth, to make thee remember it all -thy life time. The contention ceassing for the night season, Messer <i>Currado</i>, -who though he had slept well, remained still discontented in his -minde: arose in the morning by breake of day, and puffing & blowing -angerly, called for his horses, commanding <i>Chichibio</i> to mount on one -of them; so riding on towards the River, where (earely every morning) -he had seene plenty of Cranes, he sayde to his man; We shall see anon -Sirra, whether thou or I lyed yesternight.</p> - -<p><i>Chichibio</i> perceiving, that his Masters anger was not (as yet) asswaged, -and now it stood him upon, to make good his lye; not knowing how he -should do it, rode after his Master, fearfully trembling all the way. Gladly -he would have made an escape, but hee could not by any possible -meanes, and on every side he looked about him, now before, and after -behinde, to espy any Cranes standing on both their legges, which would -have bin an ominous sight to him. But being come neere to the River, -he chanced to see (before any of the rest) upon the banke thereof, about -a dozen Cranes in number, each of them standing but upon one legge, -as they use to do when they are sleeping. Whereupon, shewing them -quickly to Messer <i>Currado</i>, he said. Now Sir your selfe may see, whether -I told you true yesternight, or no: I am sure a Crane hath but one -thigh, and one leg, as all here present are apparant witnesses, and I have -bin as good as my promise.</p> - -<p>Messer <i>Currado</i> looking on the Cranes, and well understanding the -knavery of his man, replyed: Stay but a little while sirra, & I will shew -thee, that a Crane hath two thighes, and two legges. Then riding somwhat -neerer to them, he cryed out aloud, Shough, shough, which caused -them to set downe their other legs, and all fled away, after they had -made a few paces against the winde for their mounting. So going unto -<i>Chichibio</i>, he said: How now you lying Knave, hath a Crane two legs, -or no? <i>Chichibio</i> being well-neere at his wits end, not knowing now -what answer hee should make; but even as it came sodainly into his -minde, said: Sir, I perceive you are in the right, and if you would have -done as much yesternight, and had cryed Shough, as here you did: questionlesse, -the Crane would then have set down the other legge, as these -heere did: but if (as they) she had fled away too, by that meanes you -might have lost your Supper.</p> - -<p>This sodaine and unexpected witty answere, comming from such a -logger-headed Lout, and so seasonably for his owne safety: was so pleasing -to <i>Messer Currado</i>, that he fell into a hearty laughter, and forgetting -all anger, saide. <i>Chichibio</i>, thou hast quit thy selfe well, and to my -contentment: albeit I advise thee, to teach mee no more such trickes -heereafter. Thus <i>Chichibio</i>, by his sodaine and merry answer, escaped -a sound beating, which (otherwise) his master had inflicted on him.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Messer_Forese_da_Rabatte_and_Maister_Giotto_a_Painter_by_his_profession" id="Messer_Forese_da_Rabatte_and_Maister_Giotto_a_Painter_by_his_profession">Messer Forese da Rabatte, <i>and Maister</i> Giotto, <i>a Painter by his profession, -comming together from</i> Mugello, <i>scornfully reprehended one another -for their deformity of body.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Fift Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Whereby may bee observed, that such as will speake contemptibly of others, -ought (first of all) to looke respectively on their owne imperfections.</i></h4> - - -<p>So soone as Madame <i>Neiphila</i> -sate silent (the Ladies -having greatly commended -the pleasant answer of <i>Chichibio</i>) -<i>Pamphilus</i>, by command -from the Queene, spake in this -manner. Woorthy Ladies, it -commeth to passe oftentimes, -that like as Fortune is observed -divers wayes, to hide under vile -and contemptible Arts, the most -great and unvalewable treasures -of vertue (as, not long since, was -well discoursed unto us by Madam -<i>Pampinea</i>:) so in like manner -hath appeared; that Nature -hath infused very singular spirits -into most misshapen and deformed bodies of men. As hath beene noted -in two of our owne Citizens, of whom I purpose to speake in fewe -words. The one of them was named <i>Messer Forese de Rabatte</i>, a man -of little and low person, but yet deformed in body, with a flat face, like -a Terrier or Beagle, as if no comparison (almost) could bee made more -ugly. But notwithstanding all this deformity, he was so singularly experienced -in the Lawes, that all men held him beyond any equall, or rather -reputed him as a Treasury of civill knowledge.</p> - -<p>The other man, being named <i>Giotto</i>, had a spirit of so great excellency, -as there was not any particular thing in Nature, the Mother and -Worke-mistresse of all, by continuall motion of the heavens; but hee -by his pen and pensell could perfectly portrait; shaping them all so truly -alike and resemblable, that they were taken for the reall matters indeede; -and, whether they were present or no, there was hardly any possibility -of their distinguishing. So that many times it happened, that by -the variable devises he made, the visible sence of men became deceived, -in crediting those things to be naturall, which were but meerly painted. -By which meanes, hee reduced that singular Art to light, which long -time before had lyen buried, under the grosse error of some; who, in the -mysterie of painting, delighted more to content the ignorant, then to -please the judicious understanding of the wise, he justly deserving thereby, -to be tearmed one of the <i>Florentines</i> most glorious lights. And so -much the rather, because he performed all his actions, in the true and -lowly spirit of humility: for while he lived, and was a Master in his Art, -above all other Painters: yet he refused any such title, which shined the -more majestically in him, as appeared by such, who knew much lesse -then he, or his Schollers either: yet his knowledge was extreamly coveted -among them.</p> - -<p>Now, notwithstanding all this admirable excellency in him: he was -not (thereby) a jot the handsommer man (either in person or countenance) -then was our fore-named Lawyer <i>Messer Forese</i>, and therefore -my Novell concerneth them both. Understand then, (faire Assemblie) -that the possessions and inheritances of <i>Messer Forese</i> and <i>Giotto</i>, lay in -<i>Mugello</i>; wherefore, when Holy-dayes were celebrated by Order of -Court, and in the Sommer time, upon the admittance of so apt a vacation; -<i>Forese</i> rode thither upon a very unsightly Jade, such as a man can -can seldome meet with worse. The like did <i>Giotto</i> the Painter, as ill fitted -every way as the other; and having dispatched their busines there, -they both returned backe towards <i>Florence</i>, neither of them being able -to boast, which was the best mounted.</p> - -<p>Riding on a faire and softly pace, because their Horses could goe no -faster: and they being well entred into yeeres, it fortuned (as oftentimes -the like befalleth in Sommer) that a sodaine showre of raine over-tooke -them; for avoyding whereof, they made all possible haste to a poore -Countrey-mans Cottage, familiarly knowne to them both. Having -continued there an indifferent while, and the raine unlikely to cease: to -prevent all further protraction of time, and to arrive at <i>Florence</i> in due -season: they borrowed two old cloakes of the poore man, of over-worn -and ragged Country gray, as also two hoodes of the like Complexion, -(because the poore man had no better) which did more mishape them, -then their owne ugly deformity, and made them notoriously flouted -and scorned, by all that met or overtooke them.</p> - -<p>After they had ridden some distance of ground, much moyled and -bemyred with their shuffling Jades, flinging the dirt every way about -them, that well they might be termed two filthy companions: the raine -gave over, and the evening looking somwhat cleare, they began to confer -familiarly together. <i>Messer Forese</i>, riding a lofty <i>French</i> trot, everie -step being ready to hoise him out of his saddle, hearing <i>Giottos</i> discreete -answers to every ydle question he made (for indeede he was a very elegant -speaker) began to peruse and surveigh him, even from the foote to -the head, as we use to say. And perceiving him to be so greatly deformed, -as no man could be worse, in his opinion: without any consideration -of his owne misshaping as bad, or rather more unsightly then hee; -in a scoffing laughing humour, hee saide. <i>Giotto</i>, doest thou imagine, -that a stranger, who had never seene thee before, and should now happen -into our companie, would beleeve thee to bee the best Painter in -the world, as indeede thou art? Presently <i>Giotto</i> (without any further -meditation) returned him this answere. Signior <i>Forese</i>, I think he might -then beleeve it, when (beholding you) hee could imagine that you had -learned your A. B. C. Which when <i>Forese</i> heard, he knew his owne error, -and saw his payment returned in such Coine, as he sold his Wares -for.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="A_young_and_ingenious_Scholler_being_unkindly_reviled_and_smitten_by_his_ignorant" id="A_young_and_ingenious_Scholler_being_unkindly_reviled_and_smitten_by_his_ignorant"><i>A young and ingenious Scholler, being unkindly reviled and smitten by his ignorant -Father, and through the procurement of an unlearned Vicare: afterward -attained to be doubly revenged on him.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Sixth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Serving as an advertisement to unlearned Parents, not to bee over-rash, in -censuring on Schollers perfections, through any badde or unbeseeming perswasions.</i></h4> - - -<p>The Ladies smiled very heartily, at the ready answer of <i>Giotto</i>; -untill the Queene charged Madam <i>Fiammetta</i>, that shee should -next succeed in order: whereupon, thus she began. The verie -greatest infelicity that can happen to a man, and most insupportable of -all other, is Ignorance; a word (I say) which hath bin so generall, as under -it is comprehended all imperfections whatsoever. Yet notwithstanding, -whosoever can cull (graine by graine) the defects incident to humane -race; will and must confesse, that wee are not all borne to knowledge: -but onely such, whom the heavens illuminating by their bright radiance -(wherein consisteth the sourse and well-spring of all science) by little & -little, do bestow the influence of their bounty, on such and so manie as -they please, who are to expresse themselves the more thankfull for such -a blessing. And although this grace doth lessen the misfortune of many, -which were over-mighty to bee in all; yet some there are, who by -sawcie presuming on themselves, doe bewray their ignorance by theyr -owne speeches; setting such behaviour on each matter, and soothing every -thing with such gravity, even as if they would make comparison: -or (to speake more properly) durst encounter in the Listes with great -<i>Salomon</i> or <i>Socrates</i>. But let us leave them, and come to the matter of -our purposed Novell.</p> - -<p>In a certaine Village of <i>Piccardie</i>, there lived a Priest or Vicar, who -beeing meerely an ignorant blocke, had yet such a peremptorie presuming -spirite: as, though it was sufficiently discerned, yet hee beguiled -many thereby, untill at last he deceyved himselfe, and with due chastisement -to his folly.</p> - -<p>A plaine Husbandman dwelling in the same Village, possessed of -much Land and Living, but verie grosse and dull in understanding; by -the entreaty of divers his Friends and Well-willers, some-thing more -intelligable then himselfe: became incited, or rather provoked, to send a -Sonne of his to the University of <i>Paris</i>, to study there as was fitting for a -Scholler. To the end (quoth they) that having but this Son onely, and -Fortunes blessings abounding in store for him: hee might like wise have -the riches of the minde, which are those true treasures indeede, that <i>Aristippus</i> -giveth us advice to be furnished withall.</p> - -<p>His Friends perswasions having prevailed, and hee continued at <i>Paris</i> -for the space of three yeares: what with the documents he had attayned -to, before his going thither, and by meanes of a happie memory in the -time of his being there, wherewith no young man was more singularly -endued (in so short a while) he attained and performed the greater part -of his Studies.</p> - -<p>Now, as oftentimes it commeth to passe, the love of a Father (surmounting -all other affections in man) made the olde Farmer desirous to -see his Sonne: which caused his sending for him with all convenient -speede, and obedience urged his as forward willingnesse thereto. The -good olde man, not a little joyfull to see him in so good condition and -health, and encreased so much in stature since his parting thence: familiarly -told him, that he earnestly desired to know, if his minde and body -had attained to a competent and equall growth, which within three or -foure dayes he would put in practise.</p> - -<p>No other helpe had he silly simple man, but Master Vicar must bee -the questioner and poser of his son: wherein the Priest was very unwilling -to meddle, for feare of discovering his owne ignorance, which passed -under better opinion then he deserved. But the Farmer beeing importunate, -and the Vicar many wayes beholding to him, durst not returne -deniall, but undertooke it very formally, as if he had bene an able -man indeede.</p> - -<p>But see how Fooles are borne to be fortunate, and where they least -hope, there they find the best successe; the simplicitie of the Father, must -be the meanes for abusing his Schollerly Son, and a skreene to stand betweene -the Priest and his ignorance. Earnest is the olde man to know, -what and how farre his Sonne had profited at Schoole, and by what -note he might best take understanding of his answeres: which jumping -fit with the Vicars vanity, and a warrantable cloake to cover his knavery; -he appoints him but one word onely, namely <i>Nescio</i>, wherewith -if he answered to any of his demands, it was an evident token, that hee -understood nothing. As thus they were walking and conferring in the -Church, the Farmer very carefull to remember the word <i>Nescio</i>: it came -to passe upon a sodaine, that the young man entred into them, to the -great contentment of his Father, who prayed Master Vicar, to make approbation -of his Sonne, whether he were learned, or no, and how hee -had benefited at the University?</p> - -<p>After the time of the daies salutations had past betweene them, the -Vicar being subtle and crafty, as they walked along by one of the tombs -in the Church; pointing with his finger to the Tombe, the Priest uttered -these words to the Scholler.</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p><i>Quis hic est sepultus?</i></p></blockquote> - -<p>The young Scholler (by reason it was erected since his departure, and -finding no inscription whereby to informe him) answered, as well hee -might, <i>Nescio</i>. Immediately the Father, keeping the word perfectly -in his memorie, grewe verie angerly passionate; and, desiring to -heare no more demaunds: gave him three or foure boxes on the eares; -with many harsh and injurious speeches, tearming him an Asse and Villaine, -and that he had not learned any thing. His Sonne was pacient, -and returned no answer, but plainly perceived, that this was a tricke intended -against him, by the malicious treachery of the Priest, on whom -(in time) he might be revenged.</p> - -<p>Within a short while after, the Suffragane of those parts (under whom -the Priest was but a Deputy, holding the benefice of him, with no great -charge to his conscience) being abroad in his visitation, sent word to the -Vicar, that he intended to preach there on the next Sunday, and hee to -prepare in a readinesse, <i>Bonum & Commodum</i>, because hee would have -nothing else to his dinner. Heereat Master Vicar was greatly amazed, -because he had never heard such words before, neither could hee finde -them in all his <i>Breviarie</i>. Hereupon, he went to the young scholler, whom -he had so lately before abused, and crying him mercy, with many impudent -and shallow excuses, desired him to reveale the meaning of those -words, and what he should understand by <i>Bonum & Commodum</i>.</p> - -<p>The Scholler (with a sober and modest countenance) made answere; -That he had bin over-much abused, which (neverthelesse) he tooke not -so impaciently, but hee had already both forgot and forgiven it, with -promise of comfort in this his extraordinary distraction, and greefe of -minde. When he had perused the Suffraganes Letter, well observing -the blushlesse ignorance of the Priest: seeming (by outward appearance) -to take it strangely, he cryed out alowd, saying; In the name of Vertue, -what may be this mans meaning? How? (quoth the Priest) What manner -of demand do you make? Alas, replyed the Scholler, you have but -one poore Asse, which I know you love deerely, and yet you must stew -his genitories very daintily, for your Patron will have no other meat to -his dinner. The genitories of mine Asse, answered the Priest? Passion -of me, who then shall carrie my Corne to the Mill? There is no remedie, -sayde the Scholler, for he hath so set it downe for an absolute resolution.</p> - -<p>After that the Priest had considered thereon a while by himselfe, remembring -the yearely revennewes, which clearely hee put up into his -purse, to be ten times of farre greater worth then his Asse: he concluded -to have him gelded, what danger soever should ensue thereon, preparing -them in readinesse against his comming. So soone as the Suffragan -was there arrived, heavily hee complained to him for his Asse: which -kinde of Language he not understanding, knew not what he meant, nor -how he should answer. But beeing (by the Scholler) acquainted with -the whole History, he laughed heartily at the Priests ignorant folly, wishing -that all such bold Bayards (from time to time) might be so served. -Likewise, that all ignorant Priests, Vicars, and other Grashoppers of -Townes or Villages, who sometimes have onely seene <i>Partes orationis -quod sunt</i>, not to stand over-much on their owne sufficiency, grounded -soly upon their Grammar; but to beware whom they jest withall, without -meddling with Schollers, who take not injuries as dullards doe, least -they prove infamous by their disputations.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Madam_Phillippa_being_accused_by_her_Husband_Rinaldo_de_Pugliese" id="Madam_Phillippa_being_accused_by_her_Husband_Rinaldo_de_Pugliese">Madam Phillippa, <i>being accused by her Husband</i> Rinaldo de Pugliese, -<i>because he tooke her in Adulterie, with a young Gentleman named</i> Lazarino -de Guazzagliotori: <i>caused her to bee cited before the Judge. From -whom she delivered her selfe, by a sodaine, witty and pleasant answer, and -moderated a severe strict Statute, formerly made against women.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Seventh Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is declared, of what worth it is to confesse a trueth, with a facetious -and witty excuse.</i></h4> - - -<p>After that Madame <i>Fiammetta</i> had given over speaking, and all -the Auditory had sufficiently applauded the Schollers honest -revenge, the Queene enjoyned <i>Philostratus</i>, to proceede on -next with his Novell, which caused him to begin thus. Beleeve -me Ladies, it is an excellent & most commendable thing, to speak -well, and to all purposes: but I hold it a matter of much greater worth, -to know how to do it, and when necessity doth most require it. Which -a Gentlewoman (of whom I am now to speake) was so well enstructed -in, as not onely it yeelded the hearers mirthfull contentment, but likewise -delivered her from the danger of death, as (in few words) you shall -heare related.</p> - -<p>In the Citie of <i>Prato</i>, there was an Edict or Statute, no lesse blameworthy -(to speake uprightly) then most severe and cruell, which (without -making any distinction) gave strict command; That everie Woman -should be burned with fire, whose husband found her in the acte of Adultery, -with any secret or familiar friend, as one deserving to bee thus -abandoned, like such as prostituted their bodies to publike sale or hire. -During the continuance of this sharpe Edict, it fortuned that a Gentlewoman, -who was named <i>Phillippa</i>, was found in her Chamber one -night, in the armes of a young Gentleman of the same City, named <i>Lazarino -de Guazzagliotori</i>, and by her owne husband, called <i>Rinaldo de -Pugliese</i>, shee loving the young Gallant, as her owne life, because hee -was most compleate in all perfections, and every way as deerely addicted -to her.</p> - -<p>This sight was so irkesome to <i>Rinaldo</i>, that, being overcom with extreame -rage, hee could hardly containe from running on them, with a -violent intent to kill them both: but feare of his owne life caused his -forbearance, meaning to be revenged by some better way. Such was -the heate of his spleene and fury, as, setting aside all respect of his owne -shame: he would needs prosecute the rigour of the deadly Edict, which -he held lawfull for him to do, although it extended to the death of his -Wife. Heereupon, having witnesses sufficient, to approve the guiltinesse -of her offence: a day being appointed (without desiring any other -counsell) he went in person to accuse her, and required justice against -her.</p> - -<p>The Gentlewoman, who was of an high and undauntable spirite, as -all such are, who have fixed their affection resolvedly, and love uppon a -grounded deliberation: concluded, quite against the counsell and opinion -of her Parents, Kindred, and Friends; to appeare in the Court, as -desiring rather to dye, by confessing the trueth with a manly courage, -then by denying it, and her love unto so worthy a person as he was, in -whole arms she chanced to be taken; to live basely in exile with shame, -as an eternall scandall to her race. So, before the Potestate, shee made -her apparance, worthily accompanied both with men and women, all -advising her to deny the acte: but she, not minding them or their perswasions, -looking on the Judge with a constant countenance, and a -voyce of setled resolve, craved to know of him, what hee demaunded -of her?</p> - -<p>The Potestate well noting her brave carriage, her singular beautie -and praise-worthy parts, her words apparantly witnessing the heighth -of her minde: beganne to take compassion on her, and doubted, least -shee would confesse some such matter, as should enforce him to pronounce -the sentence of death against her. But she boldly scorning all -delayes, or any further protraction of time; demanded again, what was -her accusation? Madame, answered the Potestate, I am sory to tel you, -what needs I must, your husband (whom you see present heere) is the -complainant against you, avouching, that he tooke you in the act of adultery -with another man: and therefore he requireth, that, according to -the rigour of the Statute heere in force with us, I should pronounce -sentence against you, and (consequently) the infliction of death. Which -I cannot do, if you confesse not the fact, and therefore be well advised, -how you answer me, and tell me the truth, if it be as your Husband accuseth -you, or no.</p> - -<p>The Lady, without any dismay or dread at all, pleasantly thus replied. -My Lord, true it is, that <i>Rinaldo</i> is my Husband, and that he found -me, on the night named, betweene the Armes of <i>Lazarino</i>, where many -times heeretofore he hath embraced mee, according to the mutuall -love re-plighted together, which I deny not, nor ever will. But you -know well enough, and I am certaine of it, that the Lawes enacted in any -Countrey, ought to be common, and made with consent of them -whom they concerne, which in this Edict of yours is quite contrarie. -For it is rigorous against none, but poore women onely, who are able -to yeeld much better content and satisfaction generally, then remaineth -in the power of men to do. And moreover, when this Law was made, -there was not any woman that gave consent to it, neither were they called -to like or allow thereof: in which respect, it may deservedly be termed, -an unjust Law. And if you will, in prejudice of my bodie, and of -your owne soule, be the executioner of so unlawfull an Edict, it consisteth -in your power to do as you please.</p> - -<p>But before you proceede to pronounce any sentence, may it please -you to favour me with one small request, namely, that you would demand -of my Husband, if at all times, and whensoever he tooke delight -in my company, I ever made any curiosity, or came to him unwillingly. -Whereto <i>Rinaldo</i>, without tarrying for the Potestate to moove the -question, sodainly answered; that (undoubtedly) his wife at all times, -and oftner then he could request it, was never sparing of her kindnesse, -or put him off with any deniall. Then the Lady, continuing on her -former speeches, thus replyed. Let me then demand of you my Lord, -being our Potestate and Judge, if it be so, by my Husbands owne free -confession, that he hath alwaies had his pleasure of me, without the least -refusall in me, or contradiction; what should I doe with the over-plus -remaining in mine owne power, and whereof he had no need? Would -you have mee cast it away to the Dogges? Was it not more fitting for -me, to pleasure therewith a worthy Gentleman, who was even at deaths -doore for my love, then (my husbands surfetting, and having no neede -of me) to let him lye languishing, and dye?</p> - -<p>Never was heard such an examination before, and to come from a -woman of such worth, the most part of the honourable <i>Pratosians</i> (both -Lords and Ladies) being there present, who hearing her urge such a necessary -question, cryed out all aloud together with one voice (after they -had laughed their fill) that the Lady had saide well, and no more then -she might. So that, before they departed thence, by comfortable advice -proceeding from the Potestate: the Edict (being reputed overcruell) -was modified, and interpreted to concerne them onely, who offered -injurie to their Husbands for money. By which meanes, <i>Rinaldo</i> -standing as one confounded, for such a foolish and unadvised enterprize, -departed from the Auditorie: and the Ladie, not a little joyfull to bee -thus freed and delivered from the fire, returned home with victorie to -her owne house.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Fresco_da_Celatico_counselled_and_advised_his_Neece_Cesca_That_if_such" id="Fresco_da_Celatico_counselled_and_advised_his_Neece_Cesca_That_if_such">Fresco da Celatico, <i>counselled and advised his Neece</i> Cesca: <i>That if such -as deserved to be looked on, were offensive to her eyes, as she had often told -him; she should forbeare to looke on any.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Eighth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>In just scorne of such unsightly and ill-pleasing surly Sluts, who imagine none -to be faire or well-favoured, but themselves.</i></h4> - - -<p>All the while as <i>Philostratus</i> was re-counting his Novell; -it seemed, that the Ladies (who heard it) found themselves -much mooved thereat, as by the wanton blood monting -up into their cheekes, it plainly appeared. But in the end, -looking on each other with strange behaviour, they could -not forbeare smiling: which the Queene interrupting by a command of -attention, turning to Madame <i>Æmillia</i>, willed her to follow next. When -she, puffing and blowing, as if she had bene newly awaked from sleepe, -began in this manner.</p> - -<p>Faire Beauties; My thoughts having wandred a great distance hence, -and further then I can easily collect them together againe; in obedience -yet to our Queene, I shall report a much shorter Novell, then otherwise -(perhappes) I should have done, if my minde had beene a little neerer -home. I shall tell you the grosse fault of a foolish Damosell, well corrected -by a witty reprehension of her Uncle; if shee had bin endued but -with so much sence, as to have understood it.</p> - -<p>An honest man, named <i>Fresco da Celatico</i>, had a good fulsome wench to -his Neece, who for her folly and squemishnes, was generally called <i>Cesca</i>, -or nice <i>Francesca</i>. And although she had stature sufficient, yet none of -the handsomest, & a good hard favourd countenance, nothing nere such -Angelical beauties as we have seen: yet she was endued with such height -of minde, and so proud an opinion of her selfe, that it appeared as a custome -bred in hir, or rather a gift bestowed on hir by nature (though none -of the best) to blame and despise both men and women, yea whosoever -she lookt on; without any consideration of her self, she being as unsightly, -ill shaped, and ugly faced, as a worse was very hardly to be found.</p> - -<p>Nothing could be done at any time, to yeilde her liking or content: -moreover, she was so waspish, nice, & squemish, that when she came into -the royall Court of <i>France</i>, it was hatefull & contemptible to hir. Whensoever -she went through the streets, every thing stunke and was noisome -to her; so that she never did any thing but stop her nose; as if all men or -women she met withall; and whatsoever else she lookt on, were stinking -and offensive. But let us leave all further relation of her ill conditions, -being every way (indeed) so bad, and hardly becomming any sensible -body, that we cannot condemne them so much as we should.</p> - -<p>It chanced upon a day, that shee comming home to the house where -her Uncle dwelt, declared her wonted scurvy and scornfull behaviour; -swelling, puffing, and pouting extreamly, in which humor she sat downe -by her Uncle, who desiring to know what had displeased her, said. Why -how now <i>Francesca</i>? what may the meaning of this bee? This being a solemne -festivall day, what is the reason of your so soone returning home? -She coily biting the lip, and brideling her head, as if she had bene some -mans best Gelding, sprucely thus replyed.</p> - -<p>Indeede you say true Uncle, I am come home verie earely, because, -since the day of my birth, I never saw a City so pestered with unhandsome -people, both men and women, and worse this high Holyday then -ever I did observe before. I walked thorow some store of streetes, and I -could not see one proper man: and as for the women, they are the most -misshapen and ugly creatures, that, if God had made me such an one, I -should be sory that ever I was borne. And being no longer able to endure -such unpleasing sights; you wil not thinke (Uncle) in what an anger -I am come home. <i>Fresco</i>, to whome these stinking qualities of his -Neece seemed so unsufferable, that hee could not (with patience) endure -them any longer, thus short and quickely answered. <i>Francesca</i>, if -all people of our Citie (both men and women) be so odious in thy eyes, -and offensive to thy nose, as thou hast often reported to me: bee advised -then by my counsell. Stay stil at home, and look upon none but thy selfe -onely, and then thou shalt be sure that they cannot displease thee. But -she, being as empty of wit as a pith-lesse Cane, and yet thought her -judgement to exceed <i>Salomons</i>, could not understand the lest part of hir -Uncles meaning, but stood as senselesse as a sheepe. Onely she replyed, -that she would resort to some other parts of the country, which if shee -found as weakly furnished of handsome people, as heere shee did, shee -would conceive better of her selfe, then ever she had done before.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Signior_Guido_Cavalcante_with_a_sodaine_and_witty_answer_reprehended" id="Signior_Guido_Cavalcante_with_a_sodaine_and_witty_answer_reprehended">Signior Guido Cavalcante, <i>with a sodaine and witty answer, reprehended -the rash folly of certaine Florentine Gentlemen, that thought to scorne and -flout him.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Ninth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Notably discovering the great difference that is betweene learning and ignorance, -upon judicious apprehension.</i></h4> - - -<p>When the Queene perceived, that Madame <i>Æmillia</i> was discharged -of her Novell, and none remained now to speake next, but -onely her selfe, his priviledge alwayes remembred, to whom it -belonged to be the last, she began in this manner.</p> - -<p>Faire Company, you have this day disappointed me of two Novells -at the least, whereof I had intended to make use. Neverthelesse, you -shall not imagine mee so unfurnished, but that I have left one in store; -the conclusion whereof, may minister such instruction, as will not bee -reputed for ydle and impertinent: but rather of such materiall consequence, -as better hath not this day past among us.</p> - -<p>Understand then (most faire Ladies) that in former times long since -past, our Cittie had many excellent and commendable customes in it; -whereof (in these unhappy dayes of ours) we cannot say that poore -one remaineth, such hath beene the too much encrease of Wealth and -Covetousnesse, the onely supplanters of all good qualities whatsoever. -Among which lawdable and friendly observations, there was one well -deserving note, namely, that in divers places of <i>Florence</i>, men of the best -houses in every quarter, had a sociable and neighbourly assemblie together, -creating their company to consist of a certaine number, such as -were able to supply their expences as this day one, and to morrow another: -and thus in a kinde of friendly course, each daily furnished the -Table, for the rest of the company. Oftentimes, they did honour to divers -Gentlemen and strangers, upon their arrivall in our City, by inviting -them into their assembly, and many of our worthiest Citizens beside; -so that it grew to a customary use, and one especially day in the -yeare appointed, in memory of this so loving a meeting, when they -would ride (triumphally as it were) on horsebacke thorow the Cittie, -sometimes performing Tilts, Tourneyes, and other Martiall exercises, -but they were reserved for Feastivall dayes.</p> - -<p>Among which company, there was one called, <i>Signior Betto Bruneleschi</i>, -who was earnestly desirous, to procure <i>Signior Guido Cavalcante -de Cavalcanti</i>, to make one in this their friendly society. And not without -great reason: for, over and beside his being one of the best Logitians -as those times could not yeeld a better: He was also a most absolute naturall -Philosopher (which worthy qualities were little esteemed among -these honest meeters) a very friendly Gentleman, singularly well spoken, -and whatsoever else was commendable in any man, was no way -wanting in him, being wealthy withall, and able to returne equall honours, -where he found them to be duly deserved, as no man therein could -go beyond him. But <i>Signior Betto</i>, notwithstanding his long continued -importunitie, could not draw him into their assembly, which made him -and the rest of his company conceive, that the solitude of <i>Guido</i>, retiring -himselfe alwaies from familiar conversing with men: provoked him to -many curious speculations: and because he retained some part of the -<i>Epicurean</i> Opinion, their vulgare judgement passed on him, that his -speculations tended to no other end, but onely to finde out that which -was never done.</p> - -<p>It chanced upon a day, that <i>Signior Guido</i> departing from the Church -of Saint <i>Michaell d'Horta</i>, and passing along by the <i>Adamari</i>, so farre as -to Saint <i>Johns</i> Church, which evermore was his customarie Walke: many -goodly Marble Tombes were then about the saide Church, as now -adayes are at Saint <i>Reparata</i>, and divers more beside. He entring among -the Collumbes of Porphiry, and the other Sepulchers being there, because -the doore of the Church was shut: <i>Signior Betto</i> & his companie, -came riding from S. <i>Reparata</i>, & espying <i>Signior Guido</i> among the graves -and tombes, said. Come, let us go make some jests to anger him. So putting -the spurs to their horses, they rode apace towards him: and being -upon him before he perceived them, one of them said. <i>Guido</i> thou refusest -to be one of our society, & seekest for that which never was: when -thou hast found it, tell us, what wilt thou do with it?</p> - -<p><i>Guido</i> seeing himselfe round engirt with them, sodainly thus replyed: -Gentlemen, you may use mee in your owne house as you please. -And setting his hand on one of the Tombes (which was some-what -great) he tooke his rising, and leapt quite over it on the further side, as -being of an agile and sprightly body, and being thus freed from them, -he went away to his owne lodging. They stoode all like men amazed, -strangely looking one upon another, and began afterward to murmure -among themselves: That <i>Guido</i> was a man without any understanding, -and the answer which he had made unto them, was to no purpose, neither -savoured of any discretion, but meerely came from an empty brain -because they had no more to do in the place where now they were, then -any of the other Citizens, and Signior <i>Guido</i> (himselfe) as little as any -of them; whereto Signior <i>Betto</i> thus replyed.</p> - -<p>Alas Gentlemen, it is you your selves that are void of understanding: -for, if you had but observed the answer which he made unto us: hee did -honestly, and (in verie few words) not onely notably expresse his owne -wisedome, but also deservedly reprehend us. Because, if wee observe -things as we ought to doe, Graves and Tombes are the houses of the -dead, ordained and prepared to be their latest dwellings. He tolde us -moreover, that although we have heere (in this life) other habitations -and abidings; yet these (or the like) must at last be our houses. To let -us know, and all other foolish, indiscreete, and unlearned men, that we -are worse then dead men, in comparison of him, and other men equall -to him in skill and learning. And therefore, while wee are heere among -these Graves and Monuments, it may well be said, that we are not farre -from our owne houses, or how soone we shall be possessors of them, in -regard of the frailty attending on us.</p> - -<p>Then every one could presently say, that Signior <i>Guido</i> had spoken -nothing but the truth, and were much ashamed of their owne folly, and -shallow estimation which they had made of <i>Guido</i>, desiring never more -after to meddle with him so grossely, and thanking Signior <i>Betto</i>, for so -well reforming their ignorance, by his much better apprehension.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Fryer_Onyon_promised_certaine_honest_people_of_the_Countrey_to_shew_them" id="Fryer_Onyon_promised_certaine_honest_people_of_the_Countrey_to_shew_them"><i>Fryer</i> Onyon, <i>promised certaine honest people of the Countrey, to shew them -a Feather of the same Phoenix, that was with</i> Noah <i>in his Arke. In sted -whereof, he found Coales, which he avouched to be those very coals, wherewith -the same Phoenix was roasted.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Tenth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein may be observed, what palpable abuses do many times passe, under -the counterfeit Cloake of Religion.</i></h4> - - -<p>When all of them had delivered their Novels, <i>Dioneus</i> knowing -that it remained in him to relate the last for this -day: without attending for any solemne command (after -he had imposed silence on them, that could not sufficiently -commend the witty reprehension of <i>Guido</i>) thus he -began. Wise and worthy Ladies, although by the priviledge you have -granted, it is lawfull for me to speake any thing best pleasing to my self: -yet notwithstanding, it is not any part of my meaning, to varrie from -the matter and method, whereof you have spoken to very good purpose. -And therefore, following your footsteppes, I entend to tell you, -how craftily, and with a Rampiar sodainly raised in his owne defence: -a Religious Frier of Saint <i>Anthonies</i> Order, shunned a shame, which -two wily companions had prepared for him. Nor let it offend you, if I -run into more large discourse, then this day hath bene used by any, for -the apter compleating of my Novell: because, if you well observe it, the -Sun is as yet in the middest of heaven, and therefore you may the better -forbeare me.</p> - -<p><i>Certoldo</i>, as (perhaps) you know, or have heard, is a Village in the -Vale of <i>Elsa</i>, and under the authority and commaund of our <i>Florence</i>, -which although it be but small: yet (in former times) it hath bin inhabited -with Gentlemen, and people of especiall respect. A religious Friar -of S. <i>Anthonies</i> Order, named Friar <i>Onyon</i>, had long time used to resort -thither, to receive the benevolent almes, which those charitably affected -people in simplicity gave him, & chiefly at divers daies of the year, when -their bounty and devotion would extend themselves more largely then -at other seasons. And so much the rather, because they thought him to -be a good Pastor of holy life in outward appearance, & carried a name -of much greater matter, then remained in the man indeed; beside, that -part of the country yeilded far more plentifull abundance of Onyons, -then all other in <i>Tuscany</i> elsewhere, a kinde of foode greatly affected by -those Friars, as men alwaies of hungry & good appetite. This Friar <i>Onyon</i> -was a man of little stature, red haire, a chearfull countenance, and -the world afforded not a more crafty companion, then he. Moreover, -albeit he had very little knowledge or learning, yet he was so prompt, -ready & voluble of speech, uttering often he knew not what himselfe: -that such as were not wel acquainted with his qualities, supposed him -to be a singular Rhetoritian, excelling <i>Cicero</i> or <i>Quintilian</i> themselves; -& he was a gossip, friend, or deerely affected, by every one dwelling in -those parts. According to his wonted custome, one time he went thither -in the month of August, and on a Sunday morning, when all the dwellers -thereabout, were present to heare Masse, and in the chiefest Church -above all the rest: when the Friar saw time convenient for his purpose, -he advanced himselfe, and began to speake in this manner.</p> - -<p>Gentlemen and Gentlewomen, you know you have kept a commendable -custom, in sending yeerly to the poore brethren of our Lord Baron -S. <i>Anthony</i>, both of your Corne and other provision, some more, -some lesse, all according to their power, means, and devotion, to the end -that blessed S. <i>Anthony</i> should be the more carefull of your oxen, sheep, -asses, swine, pigs, and other cattle. Moreover, you have used to pay (especially -such as have their names registred in our Fraternity) those duties -which annually you send unto us. For the collection whereof, I am sent -by my Superior, namely our L. Abbot, & therfore (with Gods blessing) -you may come after noone hither, when you shal heare the Bels of the -Church ring: then will I make a predication to you; you shall kisse the -Crosse, and beside, because I know you al to be most devout servants to -our Lord Baron S. <i>Anthony</i>, in especiall grace and favor, I wil shew you -a most holy and goodly Relique, which I my selfe (long since) brought -from the holy Land beyond the seas. If you desire to know what it is, -let me tell you, that it is one of the Feathers of the same <i>Phoenix</i>, which -was in the Arke with the Patriarch <i>Noah</i>. And having thus spoken, he -became silent, returning backe to heare Masse. While hee delivered -these and the like speeches, among the other people then in the church, -there were two shrewde and crafty Companions; the one, named -<i>John de Bragoniero</i>, and the other, <i>Biagio Pizzino</i>. These subtile Fellowes, -after they had heard the report of Fryer <i>Onyons</i> Relique: although -they were his intimate friends, and came thither in his company; yet -they concluded betweene themselves, to shew him a tricke of Legierdumaine, -and to steale the Feather from him. When they had intelligence -of Friar <i>Onyons</i> dining that day at the Castle, with a worthy Friend of -his: no sooner was he set at the Table, but away went they in all haste, -to the Inne where the Fryar frequented, with this determination, that -<i>Biagio</i> should hold conference with the Friars boy, while his fellow ransackt -the Wallet, to finde the Feather, and carry it away with him, for -a future observation, what the Friar would say unto the people, when -he found the losse of the Feather, and could not performe his promise -to them.</p> - -<p>The Fryars Boy, whom some called <i>Guccio Balena</i>, some <i>Guccio Imbrata</i>, -and others <i>Guccio Porco</i>, was such a knavish Lad, and had so many -bad qualities, as <i>Lippo Topo</i> the cunning Painter, or the most curious -Poeticall wit, had not any ability to describe them. Friar <i>Onyon</i> himself -did often observe his behaviour, and would make this report among his -Friends. My Boy (quoth he) hath nine rare qualities in him, and such -they are, as if <i>Salomon, Aristotle,</i> or <i>Seneca</i> had onely but one of them: it -were sufficient to torment and trouble all their vertue, all their senses, & -all their sanctity. Consider then, what manner of man he is like to be, -having nine such rarities, yet voide of all vertue, wit, or goodnes. And -when it was demaunded of Friar <i>Onyon</i>, what these nine rare conditions -were: hee having them all readie by heart, and in rime, thus answered:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Boyes I have knowne, and seene,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i9"><i>And heard of many:</i><br /></span> -<span class="i20">But,<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>For Lying, Loytring, Lazinesse,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>For Facing, Filching, Filthinesse;</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>For Carelesse, Gracelesse, all Unthriftinesse,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i9"><i>My Boy excelleth any.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>Now, over and beside all these admirable qualities, hee hath manie -more such singularities, which (in favour towards him) I am faine to conceale. -But that which I smile most at in him, is that he would have a -Wife in every place where he commeth, yea, and a good house to boot -too: for, in regard his beard beginneth to shew it selfe, rising thicke in -haire, blacke and amiable, he is verily perswaded, that all Women will -fall in love with him; and if they refuse to follow him, he will in all hast -run after them. But truly, he is a notable servant to mee, for I cannot -speake with any one, and in never so great secrecy, but he will be sure to -heare his part; and when any question is demanded of me, he standes in -such awe and feare of my displeasure: that he will bee sure to make the -first answer, yea or no, according as he thinketh most convenient.</p> - -<p>Now, to proceede where we left, Friar <i>Onyon</i> having left this serviceable -youth at his lodging, to see that no bodie should meddle with his -commodities, especially his Wallet, because of the sacred things therein -contained: <i>Guccio Imbrata</i>, who as earnestly affected to be in the Kitchin, -as Birds to hop from branch to branch, especially, when anie of -the Chamber-maides were there, espyed one of the Hostesses Female -attendants, a grosse fat Trugge, low of stature, ill faced, and worse formed, -with a paire of brests like two bumbards, smelling loathsomely of -grease and sweate; downe shee descended into the Kitchin, like a Kite -upon a peece of Carion. This Boy, or Knave, chuse whither you will -style him, having carelesly left Fryar <i>Onyons</i> Chamber doore open, and -all the holy things so much to be neglected, although it was then the -moneth of August, when heate is in the highest predominance, yet hee -would needs sit downe by the fire, and began to conferre with this amiable -creature, who was called by the name of <i>Nuta</i>.</p> - -<p>Being set close by her, he told her, that he was a Gentleman by Atturniship, -and that he had more millions of Crownes, then all his life time -would serve him to spend; beside those which he payed away dayly, as -having no convenient imployment for them. Moreover, he knew how -to speake, and do such things, as were beyond wonder or admiration. -And, never remembring his olde tatterd Friars Cowle, which was so -snottie and greazie, that good store of kitchin stuffe might have beene -boiled out of it; as also a foule slovenly Trusse or halfedoublet, all baudied -with bowsing, fat greazie lubberly sweating, and other drudgeries -in the Convent Kitchin, where he was an Officer in the meanest credite. -So that to describe this sweet youth in his lively colours, both for naturall -perfections of body, and artificiall composure of his Garments; never -came the fowlest silks out of <i>Tartaria</i> or <i>India</i>, more ugly or unsightly -to bee lookt upon. And for a further addition to his neate knavery, -his breeches were so rent betweene his legges, his shooes and stockings -had bin at such a mercilesse massacre: that the gallantest <i>Commandador</i> -of <i>Castile</i> (though he had never so lately bin releast out of slavery) could -have wisht for better garments, then he; or make larger promises, then -he did to his <i>Nuta</i>. Protesting to entitle her as his onely, to free her -from the Inne and Chamber thraldomes, if she would live with him, be -his Love, partaker of his present possessions, and so to succeed in his future -Fortunes. All which bravadoes, though they were belcht foorth -with admirable insinuations: yet they converted into smoke, as all such -braggadochio behaviours do, and he was as wise at the ending, as when -he began.</p> - -<p>Our former named two craftie Companions, seeing <i>Guccio Porco</i> so -seriously employed about <i>Nuta</i>, was there-with not a little contented, -because their intended labour was now more then halfe ended. And -perceiving no contradiction to crosse their proceeding, into Friar <i>Onyons</i> -chamber entred they, finding it ready open for their purpose: where -the first thing that came into their hand in search, was the wallet. When -they had opened it, they found a small Cabinet, wrapped in a great many -foldings of rich Taffata; and having unfolded it, a fine formall Key -was hanging thereat: wherewith having unlockt the Cabinet, they found -a faire Feather of a Parrots taile, which they supposed to bee the verie -same, that he meant to shew the people of <i>Certaldo</i>. And truly (in those -dayes) it was no hard matter to make them beleeve anything, because -the idle vanities of <i>Ægypt</i> and those remoter parts, had not (as yet) bin -seene in <i>Tuscany</i>, as since then they have bin in great abundance, to the -utter ruine (almost) of <i>Italy</i>.</p> - -<p>And although they might then be knowne to very few, yet the inhabitants -of the Country generally, understoode little or nothing at all of -them. For there, the pure simplicitie of their ancient predecessours still -continuing; they had not seene any Parrots, or so much as heard any -speech of them. Wherefore the two crafty consorts, not a little joyfull -of finding the Feather, tooke it thence with them, and beecause they -would not leave the Cabinet empty, espying Char-coales lying in a corner -of the Chamber, they filled it with them, wrapping it up againe in -the Taffata, and in as demure manner as they found it. So, away came -they with the Feather, neither seene or suspected by any one, intending -now to heare what Friar <i>Onyon</i> would say, uppon the losse of his precious -Relique, and finding the Coales there placed insted thereof.</p> - -<p>The simple men and women of the country, who had bin at morning -Masse in the Church, and heard what a wonderful Feather they should -see in the after noone; returned in all hast to their houses, where one telling -this newes to another, and gossip with gossip consulting thereon; they -made the shorter dinner, and afterward flocked in maine troopes to the -Castle, contending who shold first get entrance, such was their devotion -to see the holy feather. Friar <i>Onyon</i> having dined, and reposed a little after -his wine, he arose from the table to the window, where beholding what -multitudes came to see the feather, he assured himselfe of good store of -mony. Hereupon, he sent to his Boy <i>Guccio Imbrata</i>, that uppon the Bels -ringing, he should come and bring the wallet to him. Which (with much -ado) he did, so soone as his quarrell was ended in the kitchin, with the amiable -Chamber-maid <i>Nuta</i>, away then he went with his holy commodities: -where he was no sooner arrived, but because his belly was readie -to burst with drinking water, he sent him to the Church to ring the bels, -which not onely would warme the cold water in his belly, but likewise -make him run as gaunt as a Grey-hound.</p> - -<p>When all the people were assembled in the Church together, Friar -<i>Onyon</i> (never distrusting any injurie offered him, or that his close commodities -had bin meddled withall) began his predication, uttering a thousand -lies to fit his purpose. And when he came to shew the feather of the -Phoenix (having first in great devotion finisht the confession) he caused -two goodly torches to be lighted, & ducking downe his head three severall -times, before hee would so much as touch the Taffata, he opened it -with much reverence. So soone as the Cabinet came to be seen, off went -his Hood, lowly he bowed downe his body, and uttering especiall praises -of the Phoenix, and sacred properties of the wonderfull Relique, the -Cover of the Cabinet being lifted uppe, he saw the same to bee full of -Coales. He could not suspect his Villaine boy to do this deede, for he -knew him not to be endued with so much wit, onely hee curst him for -keeping it no better, and curst himselfe also, for reposing trust in such a -careles knave, knowing him to be slothfull, disobedient, negligent, and -void of all honest understanding or grace. Sodainly (without blushing) -lest his losse should be discerned, he lifted his lookes and hands to heaven, -speaking out so loude, as every one might easily heare him, thus: -O thou omnipotent providence, for ever let thy power be praised. Then -making fast the Cabinet againe, and turning himselfe to the people, with -lookes expressing admiration, he proceeded in this manner.</p> - -<p>Lords, Ladies, and you the rest of my worthy Auditors: You are to -understand, that I (being then very young) was sent by my Superiour, -into those parts, where the Sun appeareth at his first rising. And I had -received charge by expresse command, that I should seeke for (so much -as consisted in my power to do) the especiall vertues and priviledges belonging -to Porcellane, which although the boyling thereof bee worth -but little, yet it is very profitable to any but us. In regard whereof, being -upon my journey, and departing from <i>Venice</i>, passing along the <i>Borgo -de Grecia</i>, I proceeded thence (on horseback) through the Realme of -<i>Garbo</i>, so to <i>Baldacca</i>, till I came to <i>Parione</i>; from whence, not without -great extremity of thirst, I arrived in <i>Sardignia</i>.</p> - -<p>But why do I trouble you with the repetition of so many countries? -I coasted on still, after I had past Saint <i>Georges Arme</i>, into <i>Trussia</i>, and -then into <i>Bussia</i>, which are Countries much inhabited, and with great -people. From thence I went into the <i>Land of Lying</i>, where I found store -of the Brethren of our Religion, and many other beside, who shunned -all paine and labour, onely for the love of God, and cared as little, for -the paines and travailes which others tooke, except some benefit arised -thereby to them; nor spend they any money in this Country, but such -as is without stampe. Thence I went into the Land of <i>Abruzzi</i>, where -the men and women goe in Galoches over the Mountaines, and make -them garments of their Swines guts. Not farre from thence, I found -people, that carried bread in their staves, and wine in Satchels, when -parting from them, I arrived among the Mountaines of <i>Bacchus</i>, where -all the waters run downe with a deepe fall, and in short time, I went on -so far, that I found my selfe to be in <i>India Pastinaca</i>; where I swear to you -by the holy habit which I weare on my body, that I saw Serpents flye, -things incredible, and such as were never seene before.</p> - -<p>But because I would be loth to lye, so soone as I departed thence, I -met with <i>Maso de Saggio</i>, who was a great Merchant there, and whom -I found cracking Nuts, and selling Cockles by retale. Neverthelesse, al -this while I could not finde what I sought for, and therefore I was to -passe from hence by water, if I intended to travaile thither, and so in returning -back, I came into the <i>Holy Land</i>, where coole fresh bread is sold -for fourepence, and the hot is given away for nothing. There I found -the venerable Father (blame me not I beseech you) the most woorthie -Patriarch of <i>Jerusalem</i>, who for the reverence due to the habite I weare, -and love to our Lord Baron Saint <i>Anthony</i>, would have me to see al the -holy Reliques, which he had there under his charge: whereof there were -so many, as if I should recount them all to you, I never could come to a -conclusion. But yet, not to leave you discomforted, I will relate some -few of them to you.</p> - -<p>First of all, he shewed me the finger of the holy Ghost, so whole and -perfect, as ever it was. Next, the nose of the Cherubin, which appeared -to Saint <i>Frances</i>; with the payring of the naile of a Seraphin; and one -of the ribbes of <i>Verbum caro</i>, fastened to one of the Windowes, covered -with the holy garments of the Catholique Faith. Then he tooke me -into a darke Chappel, where he shewed me divers beames of the Starre -that appeared to the three Kings in the East. Also a Violl of Saint <i>Michaels</i> -sweate, when he combatted with the divell: And the jaw-bone of -dead <i>Lazarus</i>, with many other precious things beside. And because I -was liberall to him, giving him two of the Plaines of <i>Monte Morello</i>, -in the Vulgare Edition, and some of the Chapters <i>del Caprezio</i>, which -he had long laboured in search of; he bestowed on me some of his Reliques.</p> - -<p>First, he gave me one of the eye-teeth of <i>Santa Crux</i>; and a little Violl, -filled with some part of the sound of those Belles, which hung in the -sumptuous Temple of <i>Salomon</i>. Next, he gave mee the Feather of the -Phoenix, which was with <i>Noah</i> in the Arke, as before I told you. And -one of the Woodden Pattens, which the good Saint <i>Gerrard de Magnavilla</i> -used to weare in his travailes, and which I gave (not long since) to -<i>Gerrardo di Bousy</i> at <i>Florence</i>, where it is respected with much devotion. -Moreover, he gave me a few of those Coales, wherewith the Phoenix -of <i>Noah</i> was roasted; all which things I brought away thence with -me. Now, most true it is, that my Superiour would never suffer mee to -shew them any where, untill he was faithfully certified, whether they -were the same precious Reliques, or no. But perceyving by sundrie -Myracles which they have wrought, and Letters of sufficient credence -receyved from the reverend Patriarch, that all is true, he hath graunted -me permission to shew them, and because I wold not trust any one with -matters of such moment, I my selfe brought them hither with me.</p> - -<p>Now I must tell you, that the Feather of the same Phoenix, I conveyed -into a small Cabinet or Casket, because it should not be bent or broken. -And the Coales wherewith the said Phoenix was roasted, I put into -another Casket, in all respects so like to the former, that many times I -have taken one for another. As now at this instant it hath bin my fortune: -for, imagining that I brought the Casket with the feather, I mistooke my -self, & brought the other with the coales. Wherein doubtles I have not -offended, because I am certaine, that we of our Order do not any thing, -but it is ordred by divine direction, and our blessed Patron the Lorde -Baron Saint <i>Anthony</i>. And so much the rather, because about a senight -hence, the Feast of Saint <i>Anthony</i> is to bee solemnized, against the preparation -whereof, and to kindle your zeale with the greater fervencie: -he put the Casket with the Coales into my hand, meaning, to let you -see the Feather, at some more fitting season. And therefore my blessed -Sonnes and Daughters, put off your Bonnets, and come hither with devotion -to looke upon them. But first let me tell you, whosoever is marked -by any of these Coales, with the signe of the Crosse: he or she shal -live all this yeare happily, and no fire whatsoever shall come neere to -touch or hurt them. So, singing a solemne Antheme in the praise of S. -<i>Anthony</i>, he unveyled the Casket, and shewed the Coales openly.</p> - -<p>The simple multitude, having (with great admiration and reverence) -a long while beheld them, they thronged in crouds to Fryar <i>Onyon</i>, giving -him farre greater offerings, then before they had, and entreating -him to marke them each after other. Whereupon, he taking the coales -in his hand, began to marke their garments of white, and the veyles on -the Womens heads, with Crosses of no meane extendure: affirming -to them, that the more the Coales wasted with making those great crosses, -the more they still encreased in the Casket, as often before hee had -made triall.</p> - -<p>In this manner, having crossed all the <i>Certaldanes</i> (to his great benefit) -and their abuse: he smiled at his sodaine and dexterious devise, in -mockery of them, who thought to have made a scorne of him, by dispossessing -him of the Feather. For <i>Bragoniero</i> and <i>Pizzino</i>, being present -at his Learned predication, and having heard what a cunning shift -he found, to come off cleanly, without the least detection, and all delivered -with such admirable protestations: they were faine to forsake the -Church, least they should have burst with laughing.</p> - -<p>But when all the people were parted and gone, they met Friar <i>Onyon</i> -at his Inne, where closely they discovered to him, what they had -done, delivering him his Feather againe: which the yeare -following, did yeeld him as much money, as -now the Coales had -done.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>This Novell affoorded equall pleasing to the whole companie, -Friar <i>Onyons</i> Sermon being much commended, but especially -his long Pilgrimage, and the Reliques he had both seene, and -brought home with him. Afterward, the Queene perceiving, that her -reigne had now the full expiration, graciously she arose, and taking the -Crowne from off her owne head, placed on the head of <i>Dioneus</i>, saying. -It is high time <i>Dioneus</i>, that you should taste part of the charge & paine, -which poore women have felt and undergone in their soveraigntie and -government: wherefore, be you our King, and rule us with such awefull -authority, that the ending of your dominion may yeelde us all contentment. -<i>Dioneus</i> being thus invested with the Crowne, returned this -answer.</p> - -<p>I make no doubt (bright Beauties) but you many times have seene as -good, or a better King among the Chesse-men, then I am. But yet of a -certainty, if you would be obedient to me, as you ought in dutie unto a -true King: I should grant you a liberall freedome of that, wherein you -take the most delight, and without which, our choisest desires can never -be compleate. Neverthelesse, I meane, that my government shal be according -to mine owne minde. So, causing the Master of the Houshold -to be called for, as all the rest were wont to do for conference with him: -he gave him direction, for al things fitting the time of his Regiment, and -then turning to the Ladies, thus he proceeded.</p> - -<p>Honest Ladies, we have alreadie discoursed of variable devises, and -so many severall manners of humane industry, concerning the busines -wherewith <i>Licisca</i> came to acquaint us: that her very words, have ministred -me matter, sufficient for our morrowes conference, or else I stand -in doubt, that I could not have devised a more convenient Theame for -us to talke on. She (as you have all heard) saide, that shee had not anie -neighbour, who came a true Virgin to her Husband, and added moreover, -that she knew some others, who had beguiled their Husbandes, in -very cunning and crafty manner. But setting aside the first part, concerning -the proofe of children, I conceive the second to bee more apte -for our intended argument. In which respect, my will is (seeing <i>Licisca</i> -hath given us so good an occasion) that our discoursing to morrow, may -onely concerne such slye cunning and deceits, as women have heeretofore -used, for satisfying their owne appetites, and beguiling their Husbands, -without their knowledge, or suspition, and cleanly escaping with -them, or no.</p> - -<p>This argument seemed not very pleasing to the Ladies, and therefore -they urged an alteration thereof, to some matter better suting with the -day, and their discoursing: whereto thus he answered. Ladies, I know -as well as your selves, why you would have this instant argument altered: -but, to change me from it you have no power, considering the season -is such, as shielding all (both men and women) from meddling with -any dishonest action; it is lawfull for us to speake of what wee please. -And know you not, that through the sad occasion of the time, which -now over-ruleth us, the Judges have forsaken their venerable benches, -the Lawes (both divine and humane) ceasing, granting ample license to -every one, to do what best agreeth with the conservation of life? Therefore, -if your honesties doe straine themselves a little, both in thinking -and speaking, not for prosecution of any immodest deede, but onely for -familiar and blamelesse entercourse: I cannot devise a more convenient -ground, at least that carrieth apparant reason, for reproofe of perils, to -ensue by any of you. Moreover, your company, which hath bin most -honest, since the first day of our meeting, to this instant: appeareth not -any jot to be disgraced, by any thing either said or done, neither shal be -(I hope) in the meanest degree.</p> - -<p>And what is he, knowing your choise and vertuous dispositions, so -powerfull in their owne prevailing, that wanton words cannot misguide -your wayes, no nor the terror of death it selfe, that dare insinuate a distempred -thought? But admit, that some slight or shallow judgements, -hearing you (perhaps sometimes) talke of such amorous follies, should -therefore suspitiously imagine you to be faulty, or else you would bee -more sparing of speech? Their wit and censure are both alike, favouring -rather of their owne vile nature, who would brand others with their -basebred imperfections. Yet there is another consideration beside, of som -great injury offered to mine honour, and whereof I know not how you -can acquit your selves.</p> - -<p>I that have bin obedient to you all, and borne the heavy load of your -businesse, having now (with full consent) created mee your King, you -would wrest the law out of my hands, and dispose of my authoritie as -you please. Forbeare (gentle Ladies) all frivolous suspitions, more fit -for them that are full of bad thoughts, then you, who have true Vertue -shining in your eyes; and therefore, let every one freely speake their -minde, according as their humors best pleaseth them.</p> - -<p>When the Ladies heard this, they made answer, that all should bee -answerable to his minde. Whereupon, the King gave them all leave to -dispose of themselves till supper time. And because the Sun was yet very -high, in regard all the re counted Novels had bin so short: <i>Dioneus</i> -went to play at the Tables with another of the young Gentlemen, & Madame -<i>Eliza</i>, having withdrawne the Ladies aside, thus spake unto them. -During the time of our being heere, I have often bene desirous to let you -see a place somwhat neere at hand, and which I suppose you have never -seene, it being called <i>The Valley of Ladies</i>. Till now, I could not finde any -convenient time to bring you thither, the Sunne continuing still aloft, -which fitteth you with the apter leysure, and the sight (I am sure) -can no way discontent you.</p> - -<p>The Ladies replyed, that they were all ready to walk with her thither: -and calling one of their women to attend on them, they set on, without -speaking a word to any of the men. And within the distance of halfe a -mile, they arrived at the <i>Valley of Ladies</i>, whereinto they entred by a strait -passage at the one side, from whence there issued forth a cleare running -River. And they found the saide Valley to bee so goodly and pleasant, -especially in that season, which was the hottest of all the yeare; as all the -world was no where able to yeeld the like. And, as one of the said Ladies -(since then) related to mee, there was a plaine in the Valley so directly -round, as if it had beene formed by a compasse, yet rather it resembled -the Workmanship of Nature, then to be made by the hand of -man: containing in circuite somewhat more then the quarter of a mile, -environed with sixe small hils, of no great height, and on each of them -stood a little Palace, shaped in the fashion of Castles.</p> - -<p>The ground-plots descending from those hils or mountaines, grew -lesse and lesse by variable degrees, as wee observe at entering into our -Theaters, from the highest part to the lowest, succinctly to narrow the -circle by order. Now, concerning these ground-plottes or little Meadowes, -those which the Sun Southward looked on, were full of Vines, -Olive-trees, Almond-trees, Cherry-trees, and Figge-trees, with divers -other Trees beside, so plentifully bearing fruites, as you could not -discerne a hands bredth of losse. The other Mountaines, whereon the -Northerne windes blow, were curiously covered with small Thickets -or Woods of Oakes, Ashes, and other Trees so greene and straite, as -it was impossible to behold fairer. The goodly plaine it selfe, not having -any other entrance, but where the Ladies came in, was planted -with Trees of Firre, Cipresse, Laurell, and Pines; so singularly growing -in formall order, as if some artificiall or cunning hand had planted -them, the Sun hardly piercing through their branches, from the top to -the bottome, even at his highest, or any part of his course.</p> - -<p>All the whole field was richly spred with grasse, and such variety of -delicate Flowers, as Nature yeilded out of her plenteous Store-house. -But that which gave no lesse delight then any of the rest, was a small running -Brooke, descending from one of the Vallies, that divided two of -the little hils, and fell through a Veine of the intire Rocke it selfe, that -the fall and murmure thereof was most delightfull to heare, seeming all -the way in the descent, like Quicke-silver, weaving it selfe into artificiall -workes, and arriving in the plaine beneath, it was there receyved -into a small Channell, swiftly running through the midst of the plaine, -to a place where it stayed, and shaped it selfe into a Lake or Pond, such -as our Citizens have in their Orchards or Gardens, when they please to -make use of such a commodity.</p> - -<p>This Pond was no deeper, then to reach the breast of a man, and having -no mud or soyle in it, the bottome thereof shewed like small beaten -gravell, with pretty pibble stones intermixed, which some that had -nothing else to do, would sit downe and count them as they lay, as very -easily they might. And not onely was the bottome thus apparantly -seene, but also such plenty of Fishes swimming every way, as the mind -was never to be wearied in looking on them. Nor was this water bounded -in with any bankes, but onely the sides of the plain Medow, which -made it appeare the more sightly, as it arose in swelling plenty. And alwayes -as it super-abounded in his course, least it should overflow disorderly: -it fell into another Channell, which conveying it along the lower -Valley, ran forth to water other needfull places.</p> - -<p>When the Ladies were arrived in this goodly valley, and upon advised -viewing it, had sufficiently commended it: in regard the heat of the -day was great, the place tempting, and the Pond free from sight of any, -they resolved there to bathe themselves. Wherefore they sent the waiting -Gentlewoman to have a diligent eye on the way where they entered, -least any one should chance to steale upon them. All seven of them -being stript naked, into the water they went, which hid their delicate -white bodies, like as a cleare Glasse concealeth a Damask Rose within it. -So they being in the Pond, and the water nothing troubled by their being -there, they found much pretty pastime together, running after the -Fishes, to catch them with their hands, but they were over-quicke and -cunning for them. After they had delighted themselves there to their -owne contentment, and were cloathed with their garments, as before: -thinking it fit time for their returning backe againe, least their over-long -stay might give offence, they departed thence in an easie pace, dooing -nothing else all the way as they went, but extolling the <i>Valley of Ladies</i> -beyond all comparison.</p> - -<p>At the Palace they arrived in a due houre, finding the three Gentlemen -at play, as they left them, to whom Madame <i>Pampinea</i> pleasantly -thus spake. Now trust me Gallants, this day wee have very cunningly -beguiled you. How now? answered <i>Dioneus</i>, begin you first to act, before -you speake? Yes truly Sir, replyed Madame <i>Pampinea</i>: Relating -to him at large, from whence they came, what they had done there, -the beautie of the place, and the distance thence. The King (upon hir -excellent report) being very desirous to see it; sodainely commaunded -Supper to be served in, which was no sooner ended, but they and their -three servants (leaving the Ladies) walked on to the <i>Valley</i>, which when -they had considered, no one of them having ever bin there before; they -thought it to be the Paradise of the World.</p> - -<p>They bathed themselves there likewise, as the Ladies formerlie had -done, and being re-vested, returned backe to their Lodgings, because -darke night drew on apace: but they found the Ladies dauncing, to a -Song which Madame <i>Fiammetta</i> sung. When the dance was ended, -they entertained the time with no other discourse, but onely concerning -the <i>Valley of Ladies</i>, whereof they all spake liberally in commendations. -Whereupon, the King called the Master of the Houshold, giving -him command, that (on the morrow) dinner should be readie betimes, -and bedding to be thence carried, if any desired rest at mid-time -of the day.</p> - -<p>All this being done, variety of pleasing Wines were brought, Banquetting -stuffe, and other dainties; after which they fell to Dauncing. -And <i>Pamphilus</i>, having receyved command, to begin an especiall dance, -the King turned himselfe unto Madame <i>Eliza</i>, speaking thus. Faire Lady, -you have done me so much honour this day, as to deliver mee the -Crowne: in regard whereof, be you this night the Mistresse of the song: -and let it be such as best may please your selfe. Whereunto Madam -<i>Eliza</i>, with a modest blush arising in her face, replyed; That his will -should be fulfilled, and then (with a delicate voyce) she beganne in this -manner.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>The Song.</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The CHORUS sung by all.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Love, if I can scape free from forth thy holde,<br /></span> -<span class="i12">Beleeve it for a truth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never more shall thy falshoode me enfolde.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">When I was young, I entred first thy fights,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Supposing there to finde a solemne peace:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I threw off all my Armes, and with delights<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fed my poore hopes, as still they did encrease.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But like a Tyrant, full of rancorous hate<br /></span> -<span class="i9">Thou tookst advantage:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I sought refuge, but it was too late.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Love, if I can scape free, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">But being thus surprized in thy snares,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To my misfortune, thou madst me her slave;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was onely borne to feede me with despaires,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And keepe me dying in a living grave.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For I saw nothing dayly fore mine eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">But rackes and tortures:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From which I could not get in any wise.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Love, if I can scape free, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">My sighes and teares I vented to the winde,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For none would heare or pittie my complaints;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My torments still encreased in this kinde,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And more and more I felt these sharpe restraints.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Release me now at last from forth this hell.<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Asswage thy rigour,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Delight not thus in cruelty to dwell,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Love, if I can scape free, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">If this thou wilt not grant, be yet so kinde,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Release me from these worse then servile bands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which new vaine hopes have bred, wherein I finde;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such violent feares, as comfort quite withstands.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be now (at length) a little moov'd to pittie,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Be it nere so little:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or in my death listen my Swan-like Dittie.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Love, if I can scape free from forth thy holde,<br /></span> -<span class="i11">Beleeve it for a truth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never more shall thy falshood me enfolde.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>After that Madame <i>Eliza</i> had made an end of her Song, which shee -sealed up with an heart-breaking sigh: they all sate amazedly wondering -at her moanes, not one among them being able to conjecture, what -should be the reason of her singing in this manner. But the King being -in a good and pleasing temper, calling <i>Tindaro</i>, commaunded him to -bring his Bagge-pipe, by the sound whereof they danced divers daunces: -And a great part of the night being spent in this manner, -they all gave over, and departed to their -Chambers.</p> - -<h4><i>The End of the Sixth Day.</i></h4> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="The_Seventh_Day" id="The_Seventh_Day">The Seventh Day.</a></h2> - -<h4><i>When the Assembly being met together, and under -the Regiment of</i> Dioneus: <i>the Discourses are directed, for the discoverie -of such policies and deceites, as women have used for beguiling of their -Husbandes, either in respect of their love, or for the prevention of some -blame or scandal, escaping without sight, knowledge or otherwise.</i></h4> - -<h4>The Induction to the Dayes -Discourses.</h4> - - -<p>All the Starres were departed out of the East, -but onely that, which we commonly cal bright -<i>Lucifer</i>, or the Day-Star, gracing the morning -very gloriously: when the Master of the household, -being risen, went with all the provision, -to the <i>Valley of Ladies</i>, to make everie thing in -due and decent readines, according as his Lord -over-night had commanded him. After which -departure of his, it was not long before the King arose, beeing awaked -with the noise which the carriages made; and when he was up, the other -two Gentlemen and the Ladies were quickly readie soone after. -On they set towards the <i>Valley</i>, even as the Sunne was rising: and all -the way as they went, never before had they heard so many sweete -Nightingales, and other pretty Birds melodiously singing, as they did -this morning, which keeping them company thoroughout the journey, -they arrived at the <i>Valley of Ladies</i>, where it seemed to them, that infinite -Quires of delicate Nightingales, and other Birds, had purposely made -a meeting, even as it were to give them a glad welcome thither.</p> - -<p>Divers times they walked about the <i>Valley</i>, never satisfied with viewing -it from one end to the other; because it appeared farre more pleasing -unto them, then it had done the precedent day: and because the -dayes splendour was much more conforme to the beauty thereof. After -they had broken their fast, with excellent Wines and Banquetting -stuffe, they began to tune their instruments and sing; because (therein) -the sweet Birds should not excell them, the <i>Valley</i> (with delicate Echoes) -answering all their notes. When dinner time drew neere, the Tables -were covered under the spreading trees, and by the goodly Ponds side, -where they sate downe orderly by the Kings direction: and all dinner -while, they saw the Fishes swimme by huge shoales in the Pond, which -sometimes gave them occasion to talke, as well as gaze on them.</p> - -<p>When dinner was ended, and the Tables withdrawne, in as jocond -manner as before, they renewed againe their hermonious singing. In divers -places of this pleasant <i>Valley</i>, were goodly field-Beds readily furnished, -according as the Master of the Houshold gave enstruction, enclosed -with Pavillions of costly stuffes, such as are sometimes brought out -of <i>France</i>. Such as were so disposed, were licensed by the King to take -their rest: and they that would not, he permitted them to their wonted -pastimes, each according to their minds. But when they were risen from -sleepe, and the rest from their other exercises, it seemed to be more then -high time, that they should prepare for talke and conference. So, sitting -downe on Turky Carpets, which were spred abroad on the green grasse, -and close by the place where they had dined: the King gave command, -that Madam <i>Æmillia</i> should first begin, whereto she willingly yeelding -obedience, and expecting such silent attention, as formerly had bin observed, -thus she began.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="John_of_Lorraine_heard_one_knocke_at_his_doore_in_the_night_time_whereuppon" id="John_of_Lorraine_heard_one_knocke_at_his_doore_in_the_night_time_whereuppon">John <i>of</i> Lorraine <i>heard one knocke at his doore in the night time, whereuppon -he awaked his Wife</i> Monna Tessa. <i>She made him beleeve, that it was -a Spirit which knocked at the doore, and so they arose, going both together -to conjure the Spirit with a prayer; and afterwardes, they heard no more -knocking.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The First Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Reprehending the simplicity of some sottish Husbands: And discovering the -wanton subtilties of some women, to compasse their unlawfull desires.</i></h4> - - -<p>My Gracious Lord (quoth Madame <i>Æmillia</i>) it -had bene a matter highly pleasing to mee, that -any other (rather than my selfe) should have begun -to speake of this argument, which it hath -pleased you to apoint. But seeing it is your Highnesse -pleasure, that I must make a passage of assurance -for all the rest; I will not be irregular, because -obedience is our cheefe Article. I shall -therefore (Gracious Ladies) strive, to speake something, which may bee -advantageable to you heereafter, in regard, that if other women bee as -fearfull as we, especially of Spirits, of which all our sexe have generally -bin timorous (although, upon my credite, I know not what they are, -nor ever could meete with any, to tell me what they be) you may by the -diligent observation of my Novell: learne a wholsome and holy prayer, -very available, and of precious power, to conjure and drive them away, -whensoever they shall presume to assault you in any place.</p> - -<p>There dwelt sometime in <i>Florence</i>, and in the street of Saint <i>Brancazio</i>, -a woollen Weaver, named <i>John</i> of <i>Lorrayne</i>; a man more happy in -his Art, then wise in any thing else beside: because, favouring somewhat -of the <i>Gregorie</i>, and (in very deede) little lesse then an Ideot; Hee -was many times made Captain of the Woollen-Weavers, in the quarters -belonging to <i>Santa Maria Novella</i>, and his house was the Schoole or -receptacle, for all their meetings and assemblies. He had divers other -petty Offices beside, by the dignity and authority whereof, hee supposed -himselfe much exalted or elevated, above the common pitch of other -men. And this humour became the more tractable to him, because -he addicted himselfe oftentimes (as being a man of an easie inclination) -to be a benefactor to the holy Fathers of <i>Santa Maria Novella</i>, giving -(beside his other charitable Almes) to someone a paire of Breeches, to -another a Hood, and to another a whole habit. In reward whereof, they -taught him (by heart) many wholsome prayers, as the <i>Pater noster</i> in -the vulgar tongue; the Song of Saint <i>Alexis</i>; the Lamentations of Saint -<i>Bernard</i>, the Hymne of Madame <i>Matilda</i>, and many other such like -matters, which he kept charily, and repeated usually, as tending to the -salvation of his soule.</p> - -<p>This man, had a very faire and lovely wife, named <i>Monna Tessa</i>, the -daughter of <i>Manuccio della Cuculia</i>, wise and well advised; who knowing -the simplicity of her Husband, and affecting <i>Frederigo di Neri Pegolotti</i>, -who was a comely young Gentleman, fresh, and in the floure of his -time, even as she was, therefore they agreed the better together. By -meanes of her Chamber-maid, <i>Frederigo</i> and shee met often together, -at a Countrie Farme of <i>John</i> of <i>Lorraynes</i>, which hee had neere to <i>Florence</i>, -and where she used to lodge all the Summer time, called <i>Camerata</i>, -whether <i>John</i> resorted somtimes to Supper, and lodge for a night, -returning home againe to his City house the next morning; yet often -he would stay there longer with his owne companions.</p> - -<p><i>Frederigo</i>, who was no meane man in his Mistresses favor, and therefore -these private meetings the more welcome to him; received a summons -or assignation from her, to be there on such a night, when hir husband -had no intent of comming thither. There they supped merrily -together, and (no doubt) did other things, nothing appertaining to our -purpose, she both acquainting, and well instructing him, in a dozen (at -the least) of her Husbands devout prayers. Nor did shee make any account, -or <i>Frederigo</i> either, that this should be the last time of their meeting, -because (indeede) it was not the first: and therfore they set down -an order and conclusion together (because the Chambermaide must be -no longer the messenger) in such manner as you shall heare.</p> - -<p><i>Frederigo</i> was to observe especially, that alwayes when hee went or -came from his owne house, which stood much higher then <i>John</i> of <i>Lorraynes</i> -did, to looke upon a Vine, closely adjoyning to her house, where -stood the scull of an Asses head, advanced upon an high pole; & when -the face thereof looked towards <i>Florence</i>, he might safely come, it being -an assured signe, that <i>John</i> kept at home. And if he found the doore -fast shut, he should softly knocke three severall times, and thereon bee -admitted entrance. But if the face stood towards <i>Fiesola</i>; then he might -not come, for it was the signe of <i>Johns</i> being there, and then there might -be no meddling at all.</p> - -<p>Having thus agreed upon this conclusion, and had many merry meetings -together: one night above the rest, where <i>Frederigo</i> was appointed -to suppe with <i>Monna Tessa</i>, who had made ready two fat Capons, -drest in most dainty and delicate manner: it fell out so unfortunately, -that <i>John</i> (whose Kue was not to come that night) came thither very late, -yet before <i>Frederigo</i>, wherewith she being not a little offended, gave <i>John</i> -a slight supper, of Lard, Bacon, and such like coarse provision, because -the other was kept for a better guest. In the meane time, and while <i>John</i> -was at supper, the Maide (by her Mistresses direction) had conveighed -the two Capons, with boyled Egges, Bread and a Bottle of Wine (all -folded up in a faire cleane table cloth) into her Garden, that had a passage -to it, without entering into the house, and where shee had divers -times supt with <i>Frederigo</i>. She further willed the Maide, to set all those -things under a Peach-tree, which adjoyned to the fields side: but, so angry -she was at her husbands unexpected comming, that shee forgot to -bid her tarrie there, till <i>Frederigoes</i> comming; and to tell him of <i>Johns</i> -being there: as also, to take what he found prepared readie for his Supper.</p> - -<p><i>John</i> and she being gone to bed together, and the Maide likewise, it -was not long after, before <i>Frederigo</i> came, and knocking once softly at -the doore, which was very neere to their lodging Chamber, <i>John</i> heard -the noise, and so did his wife. But to the end, that <i>John</i> might not have -the least scruple of suspition, she seemed to be fast asleepe; and <i>Frederigo</i> -pausing a while, according to the order directed, knockt againe the second -time. <i>John</i> wondering thereat very much, jogd his wife a little, and -saide to her: <i>Tessa</i>, hearest thou nothing? Me thinkes one knocketh at -our doore. <i>Monna Tessa</i>, who was better acquainted with the knocke, -then plaine honest meaning <i>John</i> was, dissembling as if shee awaked out -of a drowsie dreame, saide: Alas Husband, dost thou know what this -is? In the name of our blessed Ladie, be not affraid, this is but the Spirit -which haunts our Countrey houses, whereof I have often told thee, and -it hath many times much dismayed me, living heere alone without thy -comfort. Nay, such hath bin my feare, that in divers nights past, so -soone as I heard the knockes: I was feigne to hide my selfe in the bedde -over-head and eares (as we usually say) never daring to be so bold, as to -looke out, untill it was broad open day. Arise good wife (quoth <i>John</i>) -and if it be such a Spirit of the Countrey, as thou talkest of, never be affraid; -for before we went to bed, I said the <i>Telucis</i>, the <i>Intemerata</i>, with -many other good prayers beside. Moreover, I made the signe of the -Crosse at every corner of our bed, in the name of the Father, -Son, and holy Ghost, so that no doubt at all needs to be made, of any -power it can have to hurt or touch us.</p> - -<p><i>Monna Tessa</i>, because (perhaps) <i>Frederigo</i> might receive some other -suspition, and so enter into distaste of her by anger or offence: determined -to arise indeede, and to let him covertly understand, that <i>John</i> was -there, and therefore saide to her husband. Beleeve me <i>John</i>, thy counsell -is good, and every one of thy words hath wisedome in it: but I hold -it best for our owne safety, thou being heere; that wee should conjure -him quite away, to the end he may never more haunt our house. Conjure -him Wife? Quoth <i>John</i>, By what meanes? and how? Bee patient -good man (quoth <i>Tessa</i>) and I will enstruct thee. I have learned an excellent -kinde of conjuration; for, the last weeke, when I went to procure -the pardons at <i>Fiesola</i>, one of the holy recluse Nuns, who (indeede <i>John</i>) -is my indeered Sister and Friend, and the most sanctimonious in life of -them all; perceiving me to be troubled and terrified by Spirits; taught -me a wholsome and holy prayer, and protested withall, that shee had -often made experiment thereof, before she became a Recluse, & found -it (alwayes) a present helpe to her. Yet never durst I adventure to essay -it, living heere by my selfe all alone: but honest <i>John</i>, seeing thou art -heere with me, we will go both together, and conjure this Spirit. <i>John</i> -replyed, that he was very willing; and being both up, they went fayre -and softly to the doore, where <i>Frederigo</i> stoode still without, and was -growne somewhat suspitious of his long attendance.</p> - -<p>When they were come to the doore, <i>Monna Tessa</i> said to <i>John</i>: Thou -must cough and spet, at such time as I shall bid thee. Well (quoth <i>John</i>) -I will not faile you. Immediately she beganne her prayer in this manner.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Spirit, that walkst thus in the night,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Poore Countrey people to affright:</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Thou hast mistane thy marke and ayme,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>The head stood right, but</i> John <i>home came,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>And therefore thou must packe away,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>For I have nothing else to say:</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>But to my Garden get the gone,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Under the Peach-tree stands alone,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>There shalt thou finde two Capons drest,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>And Egges laide in mine owne Hennes nest,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Bread, and a Bottle of good wine,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>All wrapt up in a cloath most fine.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Is not this good Goblins fare?</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Packe and say you have your share;</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Not doing harme to</i> John <i>or me,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Who this night keepes me companie.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>No sooner had she ended her devoute conjuring prayer, but she saide -to her husband: Now <i>John</i>, cough and spet: which <i>John</i> accordingly -did. And <i>Frederigo</i>, being all this while without, hearing her witty conjuration -of a Spirit, which he himselfe was supposed to be, being ridde of -his former jealous suspition: in the midst of all his melancholy, could -very hardly refraine from laughing, the jest appeared so pleasing to him: -But when <i>John</i> cought and spet, softly he said to himselfe: When next -thou spetst, spet out all thy teeth.</p> - -<p>The woman having three severall times conjured the Spirite, in such -manner you have already heard; returned to bed againe with her husband: -and <i>Frederigo</i>, who came as perswaded to sup with her, being supperlesse -all this while; directed by the words of <i>Monna Tessa</i> in hir praier, -went into the Garden. At the foot of the Peach-tree, there he found -the linnen cloth, with the two hot Capons, Bread, Egges, and a Bottle -of Wine in it, all which he carried away with him, and went to Supper -at better leysure. Oftentimes afterward, upon other meetings of <i>Frederigo</i> -and she together, they laughed heartily at her enchantment, and the -honest beleefe of silly <i>John</i>.</p> - -<p>I cannot deny, but that some do affirme, that the Woman had turned -the face of the Asses head towards <i>Fiesola</i>, and a Country Travailer -passing by the Vine, having a long piked staffe on his necke; the staffe, -(by chance) touched the head, and made it turne divers times about, & -in the end faced <i>Florence</i>, which being the cal for <i>Frederigoes</i> comming, -by this meanes he was disappointed. In like manner some say, that <i>Monna -Tessaes</i> prayer for conjuring the Spirit, was in this order.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Spirit, Spirit, go thy way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And come againe some other day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was not I that turnd the head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But some other. In our Bed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are John and I: Go from our dore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And see thou trouble us no more.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>So that <i>Frederigo</i> departed thence, both with the losse of his labour & -supper. But a neighbour of mine, who is a woman of good yeares, told -me, that both the one and other were true, as she her selfe heard, when -she was a little Girle. And concerning the latter accident, it was not to -<i>John</i> of <i>Lorrayne</i>, but to another, named <i>John de Nello</i>, that dwelt at S. -<i>Peters</i> Gate, and of the same profession as <i>John</i> of <i>Lorrayne</i> was. Wherefore -(faire Ladies) it remaineth in your owne choice, to entertain which -of the two prayers you please, or both together if you will: for they are -of extraordinary vertue in such strange occurrences, as you have heeretofore -heard, and (upon doubt) may prove by experience. It shall not -therefore be amisse for you, to learne them both by hart, for (peradventure) -they may stand you in good sted, if ever you chance to have the like -occasion.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Peronella_hid_a_young_man_her_friend_and_Lover_under_a_great_brewing_Fat" id="Peronella_hid_a_young_man_her_friend_and_Lover_under_a_great_brewing_Fat">Peronella <i>hid a young man her friend and Lover, under a great brewing Fat, -upon the sodaine returning home of her Husband; who told her, that hee -had solde the saide Fat, and brought him that bought it, to carry it away.</i> -Peronella <i>replyed, that shee had formerly solde it unto another, who was -nowe underneath it, to see whether it were whole and sound, or no. Whereupon, -he being come forth from under it; she caused her Husband to make -it neate and cleane, and so the last buyer carried it away.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Second Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is declared, what hard and narrow shifts and distresses, such as bee -seriously linked in Love, are many times enforced to undergo: According -as their owne wit, and capacitie of their surprizers, drive them to in extremities.</i></h4> - - -<p>Not without much laughter and good liking, was the Tale of -Madame <i>Æmillia</i> listened unto, and both the prayers commended -to be sound and soveraigne: but it being ended, the -King commaunded <i>Philostratus</i>, that hee should follow next in order, -whereupon thus he began.</p> - -<p>Deare Ladies, the deceites used by men towards your sexe, but especially -Husbands, have bene so great and many, as when it hath sometime -happened, or yet may, that husbands are requited in the self-same -kinde: you need not finde fault at any such accident, either by knowledge -thereof afterward, or hearing the same reported by any one; but -rather you should referre it to generall publication, to the end, that immodest -men may know, and finde it for trueth, that if they have apprehension -and capacity; women are therein not a jote inferiour to them. -Which cannot but redound to your great benefite, because, when any -one knoweth, that another is as cunning and subtile as himselfe; he will -not be so rashly adventurous in deceite. And who maketh any doubt, -that if those sleights and trickes, whereof this dayes argument may -give us occasion to speake, should afterwardes be put in execution by -men: would it not minister just reason, of punishing themselves for beguiling -you, knowing, that (if you please) you have the like abilitie in -your owne power? Mine intent therefore is to tell you, what a woman -(though but of meane quality) did to her husband, upon a sodaine, and -in a moment (as it were) for her owne safety.</p> - -<p>Not long since, there lived in <i>Naples</i>, an honest meane man, who did -take to Wife, a fayre and lustie young Woman, being named <i>Peronella</i>. -He professing the Trade of a Mason, and shee Carding and Spinning, -maintained themselves in a reasonable condition, abating and -abounding as their Fortunes served. It came to passe, that a certayne -young man, well observing the beauty and good parts of <i>Peronella</i>, became -much addicted in affection towardes her: and by his often and -secret sollicitations, which he found not to be unkindely entertayned; -his successe proved answerable to his hope, no unindifferencie appearing -in their purposes, but where her estate seemed weakest, his supplies -made an addition of more strength.</p> - -<p>Now, for their securer meeting, to stand cleare from all matter of -scandal or detection, they concluded in this order between themselves. -<i>Lazaro</i>, for so was <i>Peronellaes</i> Husband named, being an earely riser every -morning, either to seeke for worke, or to effect it being undertaken: -this amorous friend being therewith acquainted, and standing in -some such convenient place, where hee could see <i>Lazaroes</i> departure -from his house, and yet himselfe no way discerned; poore <i>Lazaro</i> was -no sooner gone, but presently he enters the house, which stood in a verie -solitarie street, called the <i>Avorio</i>. Many mornings had they thus met -together, to their no meane delight and contentation, till one especiall -morning among the rest, when <i>Lazaro</i> was gone forth to worke, and -<i>Striguario</i> (so was the amorous young man named) visiting <i>Peronella</i> in -the house: upon a very urgent occasion, <i>Lazaro</i> returned backe againe, -quite contrary to his former wont, keeping foorth all day, and never -comming home till night.</p> - -<p>Finding his doore to be fast lockt, and he having knockt softlie once -or twice, he spake in this manner to himselfe. Fortune I thanke thee, -for albeit thou hast made mee poore, yet thou hast bestowed a better -blessing on me, in matching me with so good, honest, & loving a Wife. -Behold, though I went early out of my house, her selfe hath risen in the -cold to shut the doore, to prevent the entrance of theeves, or any other -that might offend us. <i>Peronella</i> having heard what her husband sayde, -and knowing the manner of his knocke, said fearfully to <i>Striguario</i>. Alas -deare friend, what shall wee doe? I am little lesse then a dead Woman: -For, <i>Lazaro</i> my Husband is come backe again, and I know not what to -do or say. He never returned in this order before now, doubtlesse, hee -saw when you entred the doore; and for the safety of your honour and -mine: creepe under this brewing Fat, till I have opened the doore, to -know the reason of his so soone returning.</p> - -<p><i>Striguario</i> made no delaying of the matter, but got himselfe closelie -under the Fat, and Peronella opening the doore for her husbands enterance, -with a frowning countenance, spake thus unto him. What meaneth -this so early returning home againe this morning? It seemeth, thou -intendest to do nothing to day, having brought backe thy tooles in thy -hands. If such be thine intent, how shall we live? Where shal we have -bread to fill our bellies? Dooest thou thinke, that I will suffer thee to -pawne my gowne, and other poore garments, as heeretofore thou hast -done? I that card and spinne both night and day, till I have worne the -flesh from my fingers; yet all will hardly finde oyle to maintaine our -Lampe. Husband, husband, there is not one neighbour dwelling by -us, but makes a mockerie of me, and tels me plainly, that I may be ashamed -to drudge and moyle as I do; wondering not a little, how I am able -to endure it; and thou returnest home with thy hands in thy hose, as if -thou hadst no worke at all to do this day.</p> - -<p>Having thus spoken, she fell to weeping, and then thus began again. -Poore wretched woman as I am, in an unfortunate houre was I borne, -and in a much worse, when I was made thy Wife. I could have had a -proper, handsome young man; one, that would have maintained mee -brave and gallantly: but, beast as I was, to forgoe my good, and cast -my selfe away on such a beggar as thou art, and whom none wold have -had, but such an Asse as I. Other women live at hearts ease, and in jollity, -have their amorous friends and loving Paramours, yea, one, two, -three at once, making their husbands looke like a Moone cressent, whereon -they shine Sun-like, with amiable lookes, because they know not how -to helpe it: when I (poore foole) live heere at home a miserable life, not -daring once to dreame of such follies, an innocent soule, heartlesse and -harmelesse.</p> - -<p>Many times, sitting and sighing to my selfe: Lord, thinke I, of what -mettall am I made? Why should not I have a Friend in a corner, as well -as others have? I am flesh and blood, as they are, not made of brasse or -iron, and therefore subject to womens frailty. I would thou shouldest -know it husband, and I tell it thee in good earnest; That if I would doe -ill, I could quickely finde a friend at a neede. Gallants there are good -store, who (of my knowledge) love me dearely, and have made me very -large and liberall promises, of Golde, Silver, Jewels, and gay Garments, -if I would extend them the least favour. But my heart will not -suffer me, I never was the daughter of such a mother, as had so much as -a thought of such matters: no, I thanke our blessed Ladie, and S. <i>Friswid</i> -for it: and yet thou returnest home againe, when thou shouldst be at -Worke.</p> - -<p><i>Lazaro</i>, who stoode all this while like a well-beleeving Logger-head, -demurely thus answered. Alas good Wife! I pray you bee not so angry, -I never had so much as an ill thought of you, but know wel enough -what you are, and have made good proofe thereof this morning. Understand -therefore patiently (sweet Wife) that I went forth to my work -as dayly I use to do, little dreaming (as I thinke you doe not) that it had -bene Holy-day. Wife, this is the Feast day of Saint <i>Galeone</i>; whereon -we may in no wise worke, and this is the reason of my so soone returning. -Neverthelesse (deare Wife) I was not carelesse of our Houshold -provision: For, though we worke not, yet we must have foode, which I -have provided for more then a moneth. Wife, I remembred the brewing -Fat, whereof wee have little or no use at all, but rather it is a trouble -to the house, then otherwise. I met with an honest Friend, who stayeth -without at the doore, to him I have sold the Fat for ten <i>Gigliatoes</i>, and he -tarrieth to take it away with him.</p> - -<p>How Husband? replied <i>Peronella</i>, Why now I am worse offended -then before. Thou that art a man, walkest every where, and shouldst be -experienced in worldly affaires: wouldst thou bee so simple, as to sell -such a brewing Fat for ten <i>Gigliatoes</i>? Why, I that am a poore ignorant -woman, a house-Dove, sildome going out of my doore: have sold it already -for twelve <i>Gigliatoes</i>, to a very honest man, who (even a little before -thy comming home) came to me, we agreed on the bargaine, and he -is now underneath the Fat, to see whether it be sound or no. When credulous -<i>Lazaro</i> heard this, he was better contented then ever, and went -to him that taried at the doore, saying. Good man, you may goe your -way, for, whereas you offered me but ten <i>Gigliatoes</i> for the Fat, my loving -wife hath sold it for twelve, and I must maintaine what shee hath -done: so the man departed, and the variance ended.</p> - -<p><i>Peronella</i> then saide to her husband. Seeing thou art come home so -luckily, helpe me to lift up the Fat, that the man may come foorth, and -then you two end the bargaine together. <i>Striguario</i>, who though he was -mewed up under the tubbe, had his eares open enough; and hearing the -witty excuse of <i>Peronella</i>, tooke himselfe free from future feare: and being -come from under the Fat, pretending also, as if he had herd nothing, -nor saw <i>Lazaro</i>, looking round about him, said. Where is this good woman? -<i>Lazaro</i> stepping forth boldly like a man, replyed: Heere am I, -what wold you have Sir? Thou? quoth <i>Striguario</i>, what art thou? I ask -for the good wife, with whom I made my match for the Fat. Honest -Gentleman (answered <i>Lazaro</i>) I am that honest Womans Husband, -for lacke of a better, and I will maintaine whatsoever my Wife hath -done.</p> - -<p>I crie you mercie Sir, replyed <i>Striguario</i>, I bargained with your Wife -for this brewing Fat, which I finde to be whole and sound: only it is uncleane -within, hard crusted with some dry soile upon it, which I know -not well how to get off, if you will be the meanes of making it cleane, I -have the money heere ready for it. For that Sir (quoth <i>Peronella</i>) take -you no care, although no match at all had beene made, what serves my -Husband for, but to make it cleane? Yes forsooth Sir, answered sily <i>Lazaro</i>, -you shall have it neate and cleane before you pay the mony.</p> - -<p>So, stripping himselfe into his shirt, lighting a Candle, and taking -tooles fit for the purpose; the Fat was whelmed over him, and he being -within it, wrought untill he sweated, with scraping and scrubbing. So -that these poore Lovers, what they could not accomplish as they wold, -necessity enforced them to performe as they might. And <i>Peronella</i>, looking -in at the vent-hole, where the Liquor runneth forth for the meshing; -seemed to instruct her husband in the businesse, as espying those -parts where the Fat was fowlest, saying: There, there <i>Lazaro</i>, tickle it -there, the Gentleman payes well for it, and is worthy to have it: but see -thou do thy selfe no harme good Husband. I warrant thee Wife, answered -<i>Lazaro</i>, hurt not your selfe with leaning your stomacke on the -Fat, and leave the cleansing of it to me. To be breefe, the Brewing Fat -was neatly cleansed, <i>Peronella</i> and <i>Striguario</i> both well pleased, the money -paide, and honest meaning <i>Lazaro</i> not discontented.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Friar_Reynard_falling_in_love_with_a_Gentlewoman_Wife_to_a_man_of_good" id="Friar_Reynard_falling_in_love_with_a_Gentlewoman_Wife_to_a_man_of_good"><i>Friar</i> Reynard, <i>falling in love with a Gentlewoman, Wife to a man of good -account; found the meanes to become her Gossip. Afterward, he being conferring -closely with her in her Chamber, and her Husband coming sodainly -thither: she made him beleeve, that he came thither for no other end; but -to cure his God-sonne by a charme, of a dangerous disease which he had by -Wormes.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Third Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Serving as a friendly advertisement to married women, that Monks, Friars, -and Priests may be none of their Gossips, in regard of unavoydable perilles -ensuing thereby.</i></h4> - -<p><i>Philostratus</i> told not this Tale so covertly, concerning <i>Lazaros</i> -simplicity, and <i>Peronellaes</i> witty policy; but the Ladies found -a knot in the rush, and laughed not a little, at his queint manner -of discoursing it. But upon the conclusion, the King looking upon -Madam <i>Eliza</i>, willed her to succeede next, which as willingly she granted, -and thus began. Pleasant Ladies, the charme or conjuration wherewith -Madam <i>Æmillia</i> laid her night-walking Spirit, maketh me remember -a Novell of another enchantment; which although it carrieth not -commendation equall to the other, yet I intend to report it, because it -suteth with our present purpose, and I cannot sodainly be furnisht with -another, answerable thereto in nature.</p> - -<p>You are to understand then, that there lived in <i>Siena</i>, a proper young -man, of good birth and well friended, being named <i>Reynard</i>. Earnestly -he affected his neere dwelling neighbour, a beautifull Gentlewoman, -and wife to a man of good esteeme: of whom hee grew halfe perswaded, -that if he could (without suspition) compasse private conference -with her, he should reach the height of his amorous desires. Yet seeing -no likely meanes wherewith to further his hope, and shee being great -with childe, he resolved to become a Godfather to the childe, at such -time as it should be brought to Christening. And being inwardly acquainted -with her Husband, who was named <i>Credulano</i>; such familiar -entercourses passed betweene them, both of <i>Reynards</i> kinde offer, and -<i>Credulanoes</i> as courteous acceptance, that hee was set downe for a Gossippe.</p> - -<p><i>Reynard</i> being thus embraced for Madam <i>Agnesiaes</i> Gossip, and this -proving the onely colourable meanes, for his safer permission of speech -with her, to let her now understand by word of mouth, what long before -she collected by his lookes and behaviour: it fell out no way beneficiall -to him, albeit <i>Agnesia</i> seemed not nice or scrupulous in hearing, -yet she had a more precious care of her honour. It came to passe, within -a while after (whether by seeing his labour vainly spent, or some other -urgent occasion moving him thereto, I know not) <i>Reynard</i> would needs -enter into Religion, and whatsoever strictnesse or austeritie hee found -to be in that kinde of life, yet he determined to persevere therein, whether -it were for his good or ill. And although within a short space, after -he was thus become a Religious Monke, hee seemed to forget the -former love which he bare to his gossip <i>Agnesia</i>, and divers other enormous -vanities beside: yet let me tell you, successe of time tutord him -in them againe; and, without any respect to his poore holy habite, but -rather in contempt thereof (as it were) he tooke an especiall delight, in -wearing garments of much richer esteeme, yet favoured by the same -Monasticall profession, appearing (in all respects) like a Court-Minion -or Favourite, of a sprightly and Poeticall disposition, for composing -Verses, Sonnets, and Canzons, singing them to sundry excellent instruments, -and yet not greatly curious of his company, so they were some -of the best, and Madame <i>Agnesia</i> one, his former Gossip.</p> - -<p>But why doe I trouble my selfe, in talking thus of our so lately converted -Friar, holy Father <i>Reynard</i>, when they of longer standing, and -reputed meerely for Saints in life, are rather much more vile then hee? -Such is the wretched condition of this world, that they shame not (fat, -soggie, and nastie Abbey-lubbers) to shew how full fedde they live in -their Cloysters, with cherry cheekes, and smooth shining lookes, gay -and gaudy garments, far from the least expression of humility, not walking -in the streets like Doves: but high-crested like Cockes, with well -cramd gorges. Nay, which is worse, if you did but see their Chambers -furnished with Gally-pots of Electuaries, precious Unguents, Apothecary -Boxes, filled with various Confections, Conserves, excellent Perfumes, -and other goodly Glasses of artificiall Oyles and Waters: beside -Rundlets and small Barrels full of Greeke Wine, <i>Muscatella, Lachrime -Christi,</i> and other such like most precious Wines, so that (to such as see -them) they seeme not to bee Chambers of Religious men; but rather -Apothecaries Shoppes, or appertaining to Druggists, Grocers, or Perfumers.</p> - -<p>It is no disgrace to them to be Gowty; because when other men know -it not, they alledge, that strict fasting, feeding on grosse meates (though -never so little,) continuall studying, and such like restraints from the bodies -freer exercise, maketh them subject to many infirmities. And yet, -when any one of them chanceth to fall sicke, the Physitian must minister -no such counsell to them, as Chastity, Abstinence from voluptuous -meats, Discipline of the body, or any of those matters appertaining to a -modest religious life. For, concerning the plaine, vulgar, and Plebeian -people, these holy Fathers are perswaded, that they know nothing really -belonging to a sanctimonious life; as long watching, praying, discipline -and fasting, which (in themselves) are not able, to make men look -leane, wretched, and pale. Because Saint <i>Dominicke</i>, Saint <i>Fraunces</i>, -and divers other holy Saints beside, observed the selfesame religious orders -and constitutions, as now their carefull successors do. Moreover, -in example of those fore-named Saints, who went wel cloathed, though -they had not three Garments for one, nor made of the finest Woollen -excellent cloath: but rather of the very coarsest of all other, and of the -common ordinary colour, to expell cold onely, but not to appear brave -or gallant, deceyving thereby infinite simple credulous soules, whose -purses (neverthelesse) are their best pay-masters.</p> - -<p>But leave we this, and returne wee backe to vertuous Fryar <i>Reynard</i>, -who falling againe to his former appetites; became an often visitant of -his Gossip <i>Agnesia</i>, and now hee had learned such a blushlesse kinde of -boldnesse; that he durst be more instant with her (concerning his privie -sute) then ever formerly he had bin, yea, even to solicite the enjoying of -his immodest desires. The good Gentlewoman, seeing her selfe so importunately -pursued, and Fryar <i>Reynard</i> appearing now (perhappes) of -sweeter and more delicate complexion, then at his entrance into Religion: -at a set time of his secret communing with her; she answered him in -as apt tearmes, as they use to do, who are not greatly squeamish, in granting -matters demanded of them.</p> - -<p>Why how now Friar <i>Reynard</i>? quoth shee, Doe God-fathers use to -move such questions? Whereto the Friar thus replyed. Madam, when -I have laide off this holy habite (which is a matter very easie for mee to -do) I shall seeme in your eye, in all respects made like another man, quite -from the course of any Religious life. <i>Agnesia</i>, biting the lip with a pretty -smile, said, O my faire Starres! You will never bee so unfriendly to -me. What? You being my Gossip, would you have me consent unto -such a sinne? Our blessed Lady shield mee, for my ghostly Father hath -often told me, that it is utterly unpardonable: but if it were, I feare too -much confiding on mine owne strength. Gossip, Gossip, answered the -Friar, you speake like a Foole, and feare (in this case) is wholly frivolous, -especially, when the motions mooved by such an one as my selfe, -who (upon repentance) can grant you pardon and indulgence presently. -But I pray you let mee aske you one question, Who is the neerest -Kinsman to your Son; either I, that stood at the Font for his Baptisme, -or your Husband that begot him? The Lady made answere, that it was -her Husband. You say very true Gossip, replyed the Friar, and yet -notwithstanding, doth not your Husband (both at boord and bed) enjoy -the sweet benefit of your company? Yes, said the Lady, why shold -he not? Then Lady (quoth <i>Reynard</i>) I, who am not so neere a Kinsman -to your Sonne, as your Husband is, why may ye not afford mee the like -favour, as you do him? <i>Agnesia</i>, who was no Logitian, and therefore -could not stand on any curious answer, especially being so cuningly moved; -beleeved, or rather made shew of beleeving, that the Godfather said -nothing but truth, and thus answered. What woman is she (Gossip) that -knoweth how to answer your strange speeches? And, how it came to -passe, I know not, but such an agreement passed betweene them, that, for -once onely (so it might not infrindge the league of Gossip-ship, but that -title to countenance their further intent) such a favour should be affoorded, -so it might stand cleare from suspition.</p> - -<p>An especiall time being appointed, when this amorous Combate -should be fought in loves field, Friar <i>Reynard</i> came to his Gossips house, -where none being present to hinder his purpose, but onely the Nursse -which attended on the child, who was an indifferent faire & proper woman: -his holy brother that came thither in his company (because Friars -were not allowed to walke alone) was sent aside with her into the Pigeon -loft, to enstruct her in a new kinde of <i>Pater noster</i>, lately devised in -their holy Convent. In the meane while, as Friar <i>Reynard</i> and <i>Agnesia</i> -were entring into hir chamber, she leading her little son by the hand, and -making fast the doore for their better safety: the Friar laide by his holie -habit, Cowle, Hood, Booke, and Beads, to bee (in all respects) as other -men were. No sooner were they thus entred the Chamber, but her husband -<i>Credulano</i>, being come into the house, and unseen of any, staid not -till he was at the Chamber doore, where hee knockt, and called for his -Wife.</p> - -<p>She hearing his voice: Alas Gossip (quoth she) what shall I do? My -Husband knocketh at the doore, and now he will perceive the occasion -of our so familiar acquaintance. <i>Reynard</i> being stript into his Trusse and -straite Strouses, began to tremble and quake exceedingly. I heare your -Husbands tongue Gossip, said he, and seeing no harme as yet hath bin -done, if I had but my garments on againe; wee would have one excuse -or other to serve the turne, but till then you may not open the doore. -As womens wits are sildome gadding abroad, when any necessitie concerneth -them at home: even so <i>Agnesia</i>, being sodainly provided of an -invention, both how to speake and carry her selfe in this extreamitie, -saide to the Friar. Get on your garments quickely, and when you are -cloathed, take your little God-son in your armes, and listning wel what -I shall say, shape your answeres according to my words, and then refer -the matter to me. <i>Credulano</i> had scarsely ended his knocking, but <i>Agnesia</i> -stepping to the doore said: Husband, I come to you. So she opened -the doore, and (going forth to him) with a chearefull countenance thus -spake. Beleeve me Husband, you could not have come in a more happy -time, for our young Son was sodainly extreamly sicke, and (as good -Fortune would have it) our loving Gossip <i>Reynard</i> chanced to come in; -and questionlesse, but by his good prayers and other religious paynes, -we had utterly lost our childe, for he had no life left in him.</p> - -<p><i>Credulano</i>, being as credulous as his name imported, seemed ready to -swoune with sodaine conceit: Alas good wife (quoth he) how hapned -this? Sit downe sweet Husband said she, and I wil tell you al. Our child -was sodainly taken with a swouning, wherein I being unskilful, did verily -suppose him to be dead, not knowing what to doe, or say. By good -hap, our Gossip <i>Reynard</i> came in, and taking the childe up in his armes, -said to me. Gossip, this is nothing else but Wormes in the bellie of the -childe, which ascending to the heart, must needs kill the child, without -all question to the contrary. But be of good comfort Gossip, and feare -not, for I can charme them in such sort, that they shall all die, and before -I depart hence, you shall see your Son as healthfull as ever. And -because the manner of this charm is of such nature, that it required prayer -and exorcising in two places at once: Nurse went up with his Holye -Brother into our Pigeon loft, to exercise their devotion there, while we -did the like heere. For none but the mother of the childe must bee present -at such a mystery, nor any enter to hinder the operation of the -charme; which was the reason of making fast the Chamber doore. You -shall see Husband anon the Childe, which is indifferently recovered in -his armes, and if Nurse and his holy Brother were returned from theyr -meditations; he saith, that the charme would then be fully effected: for -the child beginneth to looke chearefull and merry.</p> - -<p>So deerely did <i>Credulano</i> love the childe, that hee verily beleeved, -what his Wife had saide, never misdoubting any other treachery: and, -lifting up his eyes, with a vehement sigh, said. Wife, may not I goe in -and take the child into my armes? Oh no, not yet good husband (quoth -she) in any case, least you should overthrow all that is done. Stay but -a little while, I will go in againe, and if all bee well, then will I call you. -In went <i>Agnesia</i> againe, making the doore fast after her, the Fryar having -heard all the passed speeches, by this time he was fitted with his habite, -and taking the childe in his armes, he said to <i>Agnesia</i>. Gossip methought -I heard your Husbands voice, is hee at your Chamber doore? -Yes Gossip <i>Reynard</i> (quoth <i>Credulano</i> without, while <i>Agnesia</i> opened -the doore, and admitted him entrance) indeede it is I. Come in Sir, I -pray you, replyed the Friar, and heere receive your childe of mee, who -was in great danger, of your ever seeing him any more alive. But you -must take order, to make an Image of waxe, agreeing with the stature of -the childe, to be placed on the Altar before the Image of S. <i>Frances</i>, by -whose merites the childe is thus restored to health.</p> - -<p>The childe, beholding his Father, made signes of comming to him, -rejoycing merrily, as young infants use to do; and <i>Credulano</i> clasping him -in his armes, wept with conceite of joy, kissing him infinitely, and heartily -thanking his Gossip <i>Reynard</i>, for the recovery of his God-son. The -Friars brotherly Companion, who had given sufficient enstructions to -the Nurse, and a small purse full of Sisters white thred, which a Nunne -(after shrift) had bestowed on him, upon the husbands admittance into -the Chamber (which they easily heard) came in also to them, and seeing -all in very good tearmes, they holpe to make a joyfull conclusion, -the Brother saying to Friar Reynard: Brother, I have finished all those -foure Jaculatory prayers, which you commanded me.</p> - -<p>Brother, answered <i>Reynard</i>, you have a better breath then I, and your -successe hath prooved happier then mine, for before the arrivall of my -Gossip <i>Credulano</i>, I could accomplish but two Jaculatory prayers onely. -But it appeareth, that we have both prevailed in our devout desires, -because the childe is perfectly cured. <i>Credulano</i> calling for Wine and -good cheare, feasted both the Friars very jocondly, and then conducting -them forth of his house, without any further intermission, caused -the childs Image of waxe to be made, and sent it to be placed on the Altar -of Saint <i>Frances</i>, among many other the like oblations.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Tofano_in_the_night_season_did_locke_his_wife_out_of_his_house_and_shee_not" id="Tofano_in_the_night_season_did_locke_his_wife_out_of_his_house_and_shee_not">Tofano <i>in the night season, did locke his wife out of his house, and shee not -prevailing to get entrance againe, by all the entreaties she could possiblie -use: made him beleeve that she had throwne her selfe into a Well, by casting -a great stone into the same Well</i>. Tofano <i>hearing the fall of the stone -into the Well, and being perswaded that it was his Wife indeed; came forth -of his house, and ran to the Welles side. In the meane while, his wife gotte -into the house, made fast the doore against her Husband, and gave him -many reproachfull speeches.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Fourth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is manifested, that the malice and subtilty of a Woman, surpasseth -all the Art or Wit in man.</i></h4> - - -<p>So soone as the King perceyved, that the Novell reported by -Madame <i>Eliza</i> was finished: hee turned himselfe to Madame -<i>Lauretta</i>, and told her it was his pleasure, that she should now -begin the next, whereto she yeelded in this manner. O Love: What, -and how many are thy prevailing forces? How straunge are thy foresights? -And how admirable thine attempts? Where is, or ever was the -Philosopher or Artist, that could enstruct the wiles, escapes, preventions, -and demonstrations, which sodainly thou teachest such, as are thy -apt and understanding Schollers indeede? Certaine it is, that the documents -and eruditions of all other whatsoever, are weak, or of no worth, -in respect of thine: as hath notably appeared, by the remonstrances already -past, and whereto (worthy Ladies) I wil adde another of a simple -woman, who taught her husband such a lesson, as shee never learned of -any, but Love himselfe.</p> - -<p>There dwelt sometime in <i>Arezzo</i> (which is a faire Village of <i>Tuscany</i>) -a rich man, named <i>Tofano</i>, who enjoyed in marriage a young beautifull -woman, called <i>Cheta</i>: of whom (without any occasion given, or reason -knowne to himselfe) he became exceeding jealous. Which his wife perceyving, -she grew much offended thereat, and tooke it in great scorne, -that she should be servile to so vile and slavish a condition. Oftentimes, -she demanded of him, from whence this jealousie in him received originall, -he having never seene or heard of any; he could make her no other -answer, but what his owne bad humour suggested, and drove him every -day (almost) to deaths doore, by feare of that which no way needed. -But, whether as a just scourge for this his grosse folly, or a secret decree, -ordained to him by Fortune and the Fates, I am not able to distinguish: -It came so to passe, that a young Gallant made meanes to enjoy her favour, -and she was so discreetly wise in judging of his worthinesse; that -affection passed so farre mutually betweene them, as nothing wanted, -but effects to answere words, suited with time and place convenient, for -which order was taken as best they might, yet to stand free from all suspition.</p> - -<p>Among many other evill conditions, very frequent and familiar in -her husband <i>Tofano</i>; he tooke a great delight in drinking, which not only -he held to be a commendable quality, but was alwaies so often solicited -thereto: that <i>Cheta</i> her selfe began to like and allow it in him, feeding -his humor so effectually, with quaffing and carowsing, that (at any -time when she listed) she could make him bowsie beyonde all measure: -and leaving him sleeping in this drunkennesse, would alwayes get her -selfe to bed. By helpe heereof, she compassed the first familiarity with -her friend, yea, divers times after, as occasion served: and so confidently -did she builde on her husbands drunkennesse, that not onely shee adventured -to bring her friend home into her owne house; but also would -as often go to his, which was some-what neere at hand, and abide with -him there, the most part of the night season.</p> - -<p>While <i>Cheta</i> thus continued on these amorous courses, it fortuned, -that her slye suspitious husband, beganne to perceive, that though shee -drunke very much with him, yea, untill he was quite spent and gone: yet -she remained fresh and sober still, and thereby imagined strange matters, -that he being fast asleepe, his wife then tooke advantage of his drowsinesse, -and might —— and so forth. Beeing desirous to make experience -of this his distrust, hee returned home at night (not having drunke -any thing all the whole day) dissembling both by his words and behaviour, -as if he were notoriously drunke indeede. Which his Wife constantly -beleeving, saide to her selfe: That hee had now more neede of -sleepe, then drinke; getting him immediately into his warme bed; and -then going downe the staires againe, softly went out of doores unto her -Friends house, as formerly she had used to do, and there shee remained -untill midnight.</p> - -<p><i>Tofano</i> perceiving that his Wife came not to bed, and imagining to -have heard his doore both open and shut: arose out of his bed, and calling -his Wife <i>Cheta</i> divers times, without any answere returned: hee -went downe the staires, and finding the doore but closed too, made it -fast and sure on the inside, and then got him up to the window, to watch -the returning home of his wife, from whence shee came, and then to -make her conditions apparantly knowne. So long there he stayed, till at -the last she returned indeede, and finding the doore so surely shut, shee -was exceeding sorrowful, essaying how she might get it open by strength: -which when <i>Tofano</i> had long suffered her in vaine to approve, thus hee -spake to her. <i>Cheta, Cheta,</i> all thy labour is meerely lost, because heere is -no entrance allowed for thee; therefore return to the place from whence -thou camest, that all thy friends may judge of thy behaviour, and know -what a night-walker thou art become.</p> - -<p>The woman hearing this unpleasing language, began to use all humble -entreaties, desiring him (for charities sake) to open the doore and admit -her entrance, because she had not bin in any such place, as his jelous -suspition might suggest to him: but onely to visit a weak & sickly neighbour, -the nights being long, she not (as yet) capeable of sleepe, nor willing -to sit alone in the house. But all her perswasions served to no purpose, he -was so setled in his owne opinion, that all the Town should now -see her nightly gading, which before was not so much as suspected. <i>Cheta</i> -seeing, that faire meanes would not prevaile, shee entred into roughe -speeches and threatnings, saying: If thou wilt not open the doore and let -me come in, I will so shame thee, as never base man was. As how I pray -thee? answered <i>Tofano</i>, what canst thou do to me?</p> - -<p>The woman, whom love had inspired with sprightly counsell, ingeniously -enstructing her what to do in this distresse, stearnly thus replyed. -Before I will suffer any such shame as thou intended towards mee, I -will drowne my selfe heere in this Well before our doore, where being -found dead, and thy villanous jealousie so apparantly knowne, beside -thy more then beastly drunkennesse: all the neighbours will constantly -beleeve, that thou didst first strangle me in the house, and afterwardes -threw me into this Well. So either thou must flie upon the supposed offence, -or lose all thy goodes by banishment, or (which is much more fitting -for thee) have thy head smitten off as a wilfull murtherer of thy wife; -for all will judge it to be no otherwise. All which wordes, mooved not -<i>Tofano</i> a jot from his obstinat determination: but he still persisting therein, -thus she spake. I neither can nor will longer endure this base Villanie -of thine: to the mercy of heaven I commit my soul, and stand there my -wheele, a witnesse against so hard-hearted a murtherer.</p> - -<p>No sooner had she thus spoke, but the night being so extreamly dark, -as they could not discerne one another; Cheta went to the Well, where -finding a verie great stone, which lay loose upon the brim of the Well, -even as if it had beene layde there on purpose, shee cried out aloud, saying. -Forgive me faire heavens, and so threw the stone downe into the -Well. The night being very still & silent, the fal of the great stone made -such a dreadfull noise in the Well; that he hearing it at the Windowe, -thought verily she had drowned her selfe indeede. Whereupon, running -downe hastily, and taking a Bucket fastened to a strong Cord: he -left the doore wide open, intending speedily to helpe her. But she standing -close at the doores entrance, before he could get to the Wels side; -she was within the house, softly made the doore fast on the inside, and -then went up to the Window, where <i>Tofano</i> before had stood talking -to her.</p> - -<p>While he was thus dragging with his Bucket in the Well, crying and -calling <i>Cheta</i>, take hold good <i>Cheta</i>, and save thy life: she stood laughing -in the Window, saying. Water should bee put into Wine before -a man drinkes it, and not when he hath drunke too much already. <i>Tofano</i> -hearing his Wife thus to flout him out of his Window, went back -to the doore, and finding it made fast against him: he willed hir to grant -him entrance. But she, forgetting all gentle Language, which formerly -she had used to him: in meere mockery and derision (yet intermixed -with some sighes and teares, which women are saide to have at command) -out aloud (because the Neighbours should heare her) thus she -replyed.</p> - -<p>Beastly drunken Knave as thou art, this night thou shalt not come -within these doores, I am no longer able to endure thy base behaviour, -it is more then high time, that thy course of life should bee publiquely -known, and at what drunken houres thou returnest home to thy house. -<i>Tofano</i>, being a man of very impatient Nature, was as bitter unto her in -words on the other side, which the Neighbours about them (both men -and Women) hearing; looked forth of their Windowes, and demaunding -a reason for this their disquietnesse, <i>Cheta</i> (seeming as if she wept) -sayde.</p> - -<p>Alas my good Neighbours, you see at what unfitting houres, this -bad man comes home to his house, after hee hath lyen in a Taverne all -day drunke, sleeping and snorting like a Swine. You are my honest witnesses, -how long I have suffered this beastlinesse in him, yet neyther -your good counsell, nor my too often loving admonitions, can worke -that good which wee have expected. Wherefore, to try if shame can -procure any amendment, I have shut him out of doores, until his drunken -fit be over-past, and so he shall stand to coole his feet.</p> - -<p><i>Tofano</i> (but in very uncivill manner) told her being abroad that night, -and how she had used him: But the Neighbours seeing her to be within -the house, and beleeving her, rather then him, in regard of his too -wellknowne ill qualities; very sharpely reproved him, gave him grosse -speeches, pittying that any honest Woman should be so continually abused. -Now my good Neighbours (quoth she) you see what manner -of man he is. What would you thinke of me, if I should walk the streets -thus in the night time, or be so late out of mine owne house, as this dayly -Drunkard is? I was affraid least you would have given credit to his -dissembling speeches, when he told you, that I was at the Welles side, -and threw something into the Well: but that I know your better opinion -of me, and how sildome I am to be seene out of doores, although he -would induce your sharper judgement of me, and lay that shame upon -me, wherein he hath sinned himselfe.</p> - -<p>The Neighbours, both men and Women, were all very severely incensed -against <i>Tofano</i>, condemning him for his great fault that night -committed, and avouching his wife to be vertuous and honest. Within -a little while, the noise passing from Neighbour to Neighbour, at the -length it came to the eares of her Kindred, who forthwith resorted thither, -and hearing how sharpely the Neighbours reprehended <i>Tofano</i>: -they tooke him, soundly bastanadoed him, and hardly left any bone of -him unbruised. Afterward, they went into the house, tooke all such -things thence as belonged to hir, taking hir also with them to their dwelling, -and threatning <i>Tofano</i> with further infliction of punishment, both -for his drunkennesse, and causlesse jealousie.</p> - -<p><i>Tofano</i> perceyving how curstly they had handled him, and what crooked -meanes might further be used against him, in regard her Kindred & -Friends were very mightie: thought it much better, patiently to suffer -the wrong alreadie done him, then by obstinate contending, to proceed -further, and fare worse. He became a suter to her Kindred, that al might -be forgotten and forgiven, in recompence whereof; he would not onely -refraine from drunkennesse, but also, never more be jelous of his wife. -This being faithfully promised, and <i>Cheta</i> reconciled to her Husband, -all strife was ended, she enjoyed her friends favour, as occasion served, -but yet with such discretion, as it was not noted. Thus the Coxcombe -foole, was faine to purchase his peace, after a notorious wrong -sustained, and further injuries to bee -offered.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="A_jealous_man_clouded_with_the_habite_of_a_Priest_became_the_Confessour_to" id="A_jealous_man_clouded_with_the_habite_of_a_Priest_became_the_Confessour_to"><i>A jealous man, clouded with the habite of a Priest, became the Confessour to -his owne Wife; who made him beleeve, that she was deepely in love with a -Priest, which came every night, and lay with her. By meanes of which confession, -while her jealous Husband watched the doore of his house; to surprize -the Priest when he came: she that never meant to do amisse, had the -company of a secret Friend, who came over the toppe of the house to visite -her, while her foolish Husband kept the doore.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The fift Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>In just scorne and mockery of such jealous Husbands, that will be so idle headed -upon no occasion. And yet when they have good reason for it, do least -of all suspect any such injury.</i></h4> - - -<p>Madam <i>Lauretta</i> having ended her Novell, and every one commended -the Woman, for fitting <i>Tofano</i> in his kinde; and, as -his jealousie and drunkennesse justly deserved: the King (to -prevent all losse of time) turned to Madame <i>Fiammetta</i>, commaunding -her to follow next: whereuppon, very graciously, shee beganne in this -manner.</p> - -<p>Noble Ladies, the precedent Novell delivered by Madame <i>Lauretta</i>, -maketh me willing to speake of another jealous man; as being halfe -perswaded, that whatsoever is done to them by their Wives, and especially -upon no occasion given, they doe no more then well becommeth -them. And if those grave heads, which were the first instituters of lawes, -had diligently observed all things; I am of the minde, that they would -have ordained no other penalty for Women, then they appointed against -such, as (in their owne defence) do offend any other. For jealous -husbands, are meere insidiators of their Wives lives, and most diligent -pursuers of their deaths, being lockt up in their houses all the Weeke -long, imployed in nothing but domesticke drudging affayres: which -makes them desirous of high Festivall dayes, to receive some little comfort -abroad, by an honest recreation or pastime, as Husbandmen in the -fields, Artizans in our Citie, or Governours in our judiciall Courtes; -yea, or as our Lord himselfe, who rested the seaventh day from all his -travailes. In like manner, it is so willed and ordained by the Lawes, as -well divine as humane, which have regard to the glory of God, and for -the common good of every one; making distinction betweene those -dayes appointed for labour, and the other determined for rest. Whereto -jealous persons (in no case) will give consent, but all those dayes -(which for other women are pleasing and delightfull) unto such, over -whom they command, are most irksome, sadde and sorrowful, because -then they are lockt up, and very strictly restrained. And if question were -urged, how many good women do live and consume away in this torturing -hell of affliction: I can make no other answere, but such as feele it, -are best able to discover it. Wherefore to conclude the proheme to my -present purpose, let none be over rash in condemning women: for what -they do to their husbands, being jealous without occasion; but rather -commend their wit and providence.</p> - -<p>Somtime (faire Ladies) there lived in <i>Arimino</i>, a Merchant, very rich -in wealth and worldly possessions, who having a beautifull Gentlewoman -to his wife, he became extreamly jelous of her. And he had no other -reason for this foolish conceit; but, like as he loved hir dearly, and -found her to be very absolutely faire: even so he imagined, that although -she devised by her best meanes to give him content; yet others would -grow enamored of her, because she appeared so amiable to al. In which -respect, time might tutor her to affect some other beside himselfe: the -onely common argument of every bad minded man, being weake and -shallow in his owne understanding. This jelous humor increasing in him -more and more, he kept her in such narrow restraint: that many persons -condemned to death, have enjoyed larger libertie in their imprisonment. -For, she might not bee present at Feasts, Weddings, nor goe to -Church, or so much as to be seen at her doore: Nay, she durst not stand -in her Window, nor looke out of her house, for any occasion whatsoever. -By means whereof, life seemed most tedious and offensive to her, -and she supported it the more impatiently, because shee knew her selfe -not any way faulty.</p> - -<p>Seeing her husband still persist in this shamefull course towards her; -she studied, how she might best comfort her selfe in this desolate case: -by devising some one meane or other (if any at all were to bee founde) -whereby he might be requited in his kind, and wear that badge of shame -whereof he was now but onely affraid. And because she could not gain -so small a permission, as to be seene at any window, where (happily) she -might have observed some one passing by in the street, discerning a little -parcell of her love: she remembred at length, that, in the next house to -her Husbands (they both joyning close together) there dwelt a comely -young proper Gentleman, whose perfections carried correspondencie -with her desires. She also considered with her selfe, that if there were any -partition wall; such a chinke or cranny might easily be made therein, -by which (at one time or other) she should gaine a sight of the young -Gentleman, and finde an houre so fitting, as to conferre with him, and -bestow her lovely favour on him, if he pleased to accept it. If successe (in -this case) proved answerable to her hope, then thus she resolved to outrun -the rest of her wearisome dayes, except the frensie of jealousie did finish -her husbands loathed life before.</p> - -<p>Walking from one roome to another, thorough every part of the -house; and no wall escaping without diligent surveying; on a day, when -her Husband was absent from home, she espyed in a corner very secret, -an indifferent cleft in the Wall, which though it yeelded no full view on -the other side, yet she plainly perceived it to be an handsome Chamber, -and grew more then halfe perswaded, that either it might be the Chamber -of <i>Philippo</i> (for so was the neighbouring young Gentleman named) or -else a passage guiding thereto. A Chambermaid of hers, who compassioned -her case very much; made such observance, by her Mistresses direction, -that she found it to be <i>Philippoes</i> bed Chamber, and where alwayes -he used to lodge alone. By often visiting this rift or chinke in the -Wall, especially when the Gentleman was there; and by throwing in -little stones, flowers, and such like things, which fell still in his way as he -walked: so farre she prevailed, that he stepping to the chinke, to know -from whence they came; shee called softly to him, who knowing her -voyce, there they had such private conference together, as was not any -way displeasing to either. So that the chinke being made a little larger; -yet so, as it could not be easily discerned: their mouthes might meete -with kisses together, and their hands folded each in other; but nothing -else to be performed, for continuall feare of her jelous husband.</p> - -<p>Now the Feast of Christmasse drawing neere, the Gentlewoman said -to her Husband; that, if it stood with his liking: she would do such duty -as fitted with so solemne a time, by going earely in a morning unto -Church, there to be confessed, and receive her Saviour, as other Christians -did. How now? replied the jealous Asse, what sinnes have you committed, -that should neede confession? How Husband? quoth she, what -do you thinke me to be a Saint? Who knoweth not, I pray you, that I -am as subject to sinne, as any other Woman living in the world? But -my sins are not to be revealed to you, because you are no Priest. These -words enflamed his jealousie more violently then before, and needes -must he know what sinnes she had committed, & having resolved what -to do in this case, made her answer: That hee was contented with her -motion, alwaies provided, that she went to no other Church, then unto -their owne Chappel, betimes in a morning; and their own Chaplaine to -confesse her, or some other Priest by him appointed, but not any other: -and then she to returne home presently againe. She being a woman of -acute apprehension, presently collected his whole intention: but seeming -to take no knowledge thereof, replyed, that she would not swerve -from his direction.</p> - -<p>When the appointed day was come, she arose very earely, and being -prepared answerable to her owne liking, to the Chappell shee went as -her Husband had appointed, where her jealous Husband (being much -earlier risen then she) attended for her comming: having so ordred the -matter with his Chaplaine, that he was cloathed in his Cowle, with a -large Hood hanging over his eyes, that she should not know him, and -so he went and sate downe in the Confessors place. Shee being entred -into the Chappell, and calling for the Priest to heare her confession, he -made her answer: that he could not intend it, but would bring her to -another holy Brother, who was at better leysure then hee. So to her -Husband he brought her, that seemed (in all respects) like the Confessor -himselfe: save onely his Hood was not so closely veyled, but shee -knew his beard, and said to her selfe. What a mad world is this, when -jealousie can metamorphose an ordinary man into a Priest? But, let me -alone with him, I meane to fit him with that which he lookes for.</p> - -<p>So, appearing to have no knowledge at all of him, downe she fell at -his feete, and he had conveyed a few Cherry stones into his mouth, to -trouble his speech from her knowledge; for, in all things els, he thought -himselfe to be sufficiently fitted for her. In the course of her confession, -she declared, that she was married to a most wicked jealous Husband, -and with whom she lead a very hatefull life. Neverthelesse (quoth she) -I am indifferently even with him, for I am beloved of an Holie Fryar, -that every night commeth and lyeth with me. When the jealous Husband -heard this, it stabbed him like a dagger to the heart, and, but for -this greedy covetous desire to know more; he would faine have broke -off confession, and got him gone. But, perceiving that it was his wisest -course, he questioned further with his wife, saying: Why good Woman, -doth not your husband lodge with you? Yes Sir, quoth she. How -is it possible then (replyed the Husband) that the Friar can lodge there -with you too?</p> - -<p>She, dissembling a farre fetcht sigh, thus answered. Reverend Sir, I -know not what skilfull Art the Fryar useth, but this I am sure, every -doore in our house will flye open to him, so soone as he doth but touch -it. Moreover, he told me, that when he commeth unto my Chamber -doore, he speaketh certaine words to himselfe, which immediately casteth -my Husband into a dead sleepe, and, understanding him to bee -thus sleepily entranced: he openeth the doore, entreth in, lieth downe -by me, and this every night he faileth not to do. The jealous Coxcomb -angerly scratching his head, and wishing his wife halfe hangd, said: Mistresse, -this is very badly done, for you should keepe your selfe from all -men, but your husband onely. That shall I never doe, answered shee, -because (indeed) I love him dearely. Why then (quoth our supposed -Confessor) I cannot give you any absolution. I am the more sory Sir, -said she, I came not hither to tell you any leasings, for if I could, yet I -would not, because it is not good to fable with such Saint-like men as -you are. You do therein (quoth hee) the better, and surely I am very -sory for you, because in this dangerous condition, it will bee the utter -losse of your soule: neverthelesse, both for your husbands sake and your -owne, I will take some paines, and use such especiall prayers in your -name, which may (perchance) greatly avayle you. And I purpose now -and then, to send you a Novice or young Clearke of mine, whom you -may safely acquaint with your minde, and signifie to me, by him, whether -they have done you good, or no: and if they prove helpefull, then -will we further proceed therein. Alas Sir, said she, never trouble your -selfe, in sending any body to our house; because, if my Husband should -know it, he is so extreamly jelous, as all the world cannot otherwise -perswade him, but that he commeth thither for no honest intent, and so -I shall live worse then now I do. Fear not that, good woman, quoth he, -but beleeve it certainly, that I will have such a care in this case, as your -Husband shall never speake thereof to you. If you can doe so Sir, sayde -she, proceed I pray you, and I am well contented.</p> - -<p>Confession being thus ended, and she receiving such pennance as hee -appointed, she arose on her feete, and went to heare Masse; while our -jealous Woodcocke (testily puffing and blowing) put off his Religious -habite, returning home presently to his house, beating his braines al the -the way as he went, what meanes he might best devise, for the taking of -his wife and the Friar together, whereby to have them both severely -punished. His wife being come home from the Chappell, discerned by -her Husbands lookes, that he was like to keepe but a sory Christmasse: -yet he used his utmost industry, to conceale what he had done, & which -she knew as well as himself. And he having fully resolved, to watch his -own street doore the next night ensuing in person, in expectation of the -Friars comming, saide to his Wife. I have occasion both to suppe and -lodge out of my house this night, wherefore see you the streete doore -to be surely made fast on the inside, and the doore at the middest of the -staires, as also your own Chamber doore, and then (in Gods name) get -you to bed. Whereto she answered, that all should be done as hee had -appointed.</p> - -<p>Afterward, when she saw convenient time, she went to the chink in -the Wall, and making such a signe as shee was woont to doe: <i>Phillippo</i> -came thither, to whom she declared all her mornings affayres, & what -directions her husband had given her. Furthermore she saide, certaine I -am, that he will not depart from the house, but sit and watch the doore -without, to take one that comes not heere. If therefore, you can climbe -over the house top, and get in at our gutter Window, you and I may -conferre more familiarly together. The young Gentleman being no -dullard, had his lesson quickly taught him; and when night was come, -<i>Geloso</i> (for so must wee tearme the Cocke-braind husband) armes himselfe -at all points, with a browne Bill in his hand, and so he sits to watch -his owne doore. His Wife had made fast all the doores, especially that -on the midst of the stayres, because he should not (by any means) come -to her Chamber; and so, when the houre served, the Gentleman adventured -over the house top, found the gutter Window, and the way conducting -him to her Chamber, where I leave them to their further amorous -conference.</p> - -<p><i>Geloso</i>, more then halfe mad with anger, first, because hee had lost his -supper: next, having sitten almost all the night (which was extreamely -cold and windie) his Armour much molesting him, and yet he could see -no Friar come: when day drew neere, and hee ashamed to watch there -any longer; conveighed himselfe to some more convenient place, where -putting off his Armes, and seeming to come from the place of his Lodging; -about the ninth houre, he found his doore open, entred in, & went -up the stayres, going to dinner with his Wife. Within a while after, according -as <i>Geloso</i> had ordred the businesse, a youth came thither, seeming -to be the Novice sent from the Confessor, and he being admitted -to speake with her, demanded, whether shee were troubled or molested -that night passed, as formerly she had bin, and whether the partie came -or no? The Woman, who knew well enough the Messenger (notwithstanding -all his formall disguise) made answer: That the party expected, -came not: but if hee had come, it was to no purpose; because her -minde was now otherwise altred, albeit she changed not a jote from her -amorous conclusion.</p> - -<p>What should I now further say unto you? <i>Geloso</i> continued his watch -many nights afterward, as hoping to surprize the Friar at his entrance, -and his wife kept still her contented quarter, according as opportunitie -served. In the conclusion, <i>Geloso</i> being no longer able to endure his -bootlesse watching, nor some (more then ordinary) pleasing countenance -in his wife: one day demaunded of her (with a very stearne and -frowning brow) what secret sinnes shee had revealed to the ghostly Father, -upon the day of her shrift? The Woman replyed, that she would -not tell him, neyther was it a matter reasonable, or lawfull for her to -doe. Wicked Woman, answered <i>Geloso</i>: I knowe them all well enough, -even in despight of thee, and every word that thou spakest unto -him. But Huswife, now I must further know, what the Fryar is, with -whom you are so farre in love, and (by meanes of his enchantments) lyeth -with you every night; tell me what and who he is, or else I meane to -cut your throate.</p> - -<p>The Woman immediately made answer, it was not true, that she was -in love with any Fryar. How? quoth <i>Geloso</i>, didst thou not thou confesse so -much to the Ghostly Father, the other day when thou wast at shrift? No -Sir, sayde she, but if I did, I am sure he would not disclose it to you, except -hee suffered you to bee there present, which is an Article beyonde -his dutie. But if it were so, then I confesse freely, that I did say so unto -him. Make an end then quickely Wife (quoth <i>Geloso</i>) and tell mee -who the Friar is. The Woman fell into a hearty laughter, saying. It liketh -me singularly well, when a wise man will suffer himselfe to be ledde -by a simple Woman, even as a Sheepe is to the slaughter, and by the -hornes. If once thou wast wise, that wisedome became utterly lost, when -thou felst into that divellish frensie of jealousie, without knowing anie -reason for it: for, by this beastlike and no manly humor, thou hast eclipsed -no meane part of my glory, and womanly reputation.</p> - -<p>Doest thou imagine Husband, that if I were so blinded in the eyes of -my head, as thou art in them which should informe thine understanding; -I could have found out the Priest, that would needs bee my Confessor? -I knew thee Husband to be the man, and therefore I prepared -my wit accordingly, to fit thee with the foolish imagination which thou -soughtest for, and (indeed) gave it thee. For, if thou hadst beene wise, -as thou makest the world to beleeve by outward apparance, thou wouldest -never have expressed such a basenesse of minde, to borrow the coulour -of a sanctified cloake, thereby to undermine the secrets of thine -honest meaning Wife. Wherefore, to feede thee in thy fond suspition, -I was the more free in my Confession, and tolde thee truely, with -whom, and how heinously I had transgressed. Did I not tell thee, that -I loved a Fryar? And art not thou he whom I love, being a Fryar, and -my ghostly Father, though (to thine owne shame) thou madst thy selfe -so? I said moreover, that there is not any doore in our house, that can -keepe it selfe shut against him, but (when he pleaseth) he comes and lies -with me. Now tell me Husband, What doore in our house hath (at -any time) bin shut against thee, but they are freely thine owne, & grant -thee entrance? Thou art the same Friar that confest me, and lieth every -night with me, and so often as thou sentst thy young Novice or Clearke -to me, as often did I truly returne thee word, when the same Fryar lay -with me. But (by jealousie) thou hast so lost thine understanding, that -thou wilt hardly beleeve all this.</p> - -<p>Alas good man, like an armed Watchman, thou satst at thine owne -doore all a cold Winters night, perswading mee (poore silly credulous -woman) that, upon urgent occasions, thou must needs suppe and lodge -from home. Remember thy selfe therefore better heereafter, become a -true understanding man, as thou shouldst bee, and make not thy selfe a -mocking stocke to them, who knoweth thy jealous qualities, as well as -I do, and be not so watchfull over me, as thou art. For I sweare by my -true honesty, that if I were but as willing, as thou art suspitious: I could -deceive thee, if thou hadst an hundred eyes, as Nature affords thee but -two, and have my pleasures freely, yet thou be not a jot the wiser, or my -credit any way impaired.</p> - -<p>Our wonderfull wise <i>Geloso</i>, who (very advisedly considred) that he -had wholly heard his wives secret confession, and dreamed now on no -other doubt beside, but (perceiving by her speeches) how hee was become -a scorne to al men: without returning other answer, confirmed his -wife to bee both wise and honest, and now when he hadde just occasion -to be jealous indeede, hee utterly forsware it, and counted them all -Coxcombes that would be so misguided. Wherefore, she having thus -wisely wonne the way to her owne desires, and he reduced into a more -humane temper: I hope there was no more neede, of clambring over -houses in the night time like Cats, nor walking in at gutter Windowes, -but all abuses were honestly reformed.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Madame_Isabella_delighting_in_the_company_of_her_affected_Friend_named" id="Madame_Isabella_delighting_in_the_company_of_her_affected_Friend_named"><i>Madame</i> Isabella, <i>delighting in the company of her affected Friend, named</i> -Lionello, <i>and she being likewise beloved by</i> Signior Lambertuccio: <i>At -the same time as shee had entertained</i> Lionello, <i>shee was also visited by</i> -Lambertuccio. <i>Her Husband returning home in the very instant: shee -caused</i> Lambertuccio <i>to run forth with a drawne sword in his hand, and -(by that meanes) made an excuse sufficient for</i> Lionello <i>to her husband.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Sixth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is manifestly discerned, that if Love be driven to a narrow straite in -any of his attempts, yet hee can accomplish his purpose by some other supply.</i></h4> - - -<p>Wondrously pleasing to all the company, was the reported Novell -of Madame <i>Fiammetta</i>, every one applauding the Womans -wisedome, and that she had done no more, then as the -jealous foole her husband justly deserved. But shee having ended, the -King gave order unto Madame <i>Pampinea</i>, that now it was her turne to -speake, whereupon, thus she began. There are no meane store of people -who say (though very false and foolishly,) that Love maketh many to -be out of their wits, and that such as fall in Love, do utterly loose their -understanding. To mee this appeareth a very ydle opinion, as already -hath beene approved by the related discourses, and shall also bee made -manifest by another of mine owne.</p> - -<p>In our City of <i>Florence</i>, famous for some good, though as many bad -qualities, there dwelt (not long since) a Gentlewoman, endued with -choice beauty and admirable perfections, being wife to Signior <i>Beltramo</i>, -a very valiant Knight, and a man of great possessions. As oftentimes -it commeth to passe, that a man cannot alwayes feede on one kind -of bread, but his appetite will be longing after change: so fared it with -this Lady, named <i>Isabella</i>, she being not satisfied with the delights of her -Husband; grew enamoured of a young Gentleman, called <i>Lionello</i>, -compleate of person and commendable qualities, albeit not of the fairest -fortunes, yet his affection every way sutable to hers. And full well you -know (faire Ladies) that where the mindes irreciprocally accorded, no -dilligence wanteth for the desires execution: so this amorous couple, -made many solemne protestations, untill they should bee friended by -opportunity.</p> - -<p>It fortuned in the time of their hopefull expectation a Knight, named -Signior <i>Lambertuccio</i>, fell likewise in love with <i>Isabella</i>: but because -he was somewhat unsightly of person, and utterly unpleasing in the eye, -she grew regardlesse of his frequent solicitings, and would not accept either -tokens, or letters. Which when hee saw, (being very rich and of -great power) hee sought to compasse his intent by a contrary course, -threatning her with scandall and disgrace to her reputation, and with his -associates to bandie against her best friends. She knowing what manner -of man he was, and how able to abuse any with infamous imputations, -wisely returned him hopefull promises, though never meaning to -performe any, but onely (Lady-like) to flatter and foole him therewith.</p> - -<p>Some few miles distant from <i>Florence, Beltramo</i> had a Castle of pleasure, -and there his Lady <i>Isabella</i> used to live all Summer, as all other doe -the like, being so possessed. On a day, <i>Beltramo</i> being ridden from -home, and she having sent for <i>Lionello</i>, to take the advantage of her Husbands -absence; accordingly he went, not doubting but to winne what -he had long expected. Signior <i>Lambertuccio</i> on the other side, meeting -<i>Beltramo</i> riding from his Castle, and <i>Isabella</i> now fit to enjoy his company: -gallops thither with all possible speede, because hee would bee no -longer delayed. Scarcely was <i>Lionello</i> entred the Castle, and receiving -directions by the waiting woman, to her Ladies Chamber: but <i>Lambertuccio</i> -gallopped in at the Gate, which the woman perceiving, -ranne presently and acquainted her Lady with the comming of <i>Lambertuccio</i>.</p> - -<p>Now was shee the onely sorrowfull woman of the world; for nothing -was now to bee feared, but stormes and tempests, because -<i>Lambertuccio</i>, spake no other, then Lightning and Thunder, -and <i>Lionello</i>, (being no lesse affraide then shee) by her perswasion -crept behind the bed, where he hid himselfe very contentedly. By this -time <i>Lambertuccio</i> was dismounted from his Courser, which he fastened -(by the bridle) to a ring in the wall, and then the waiting woman came -to him, to guide him to her Lady and Mistresse: who stood ready at -the staires head, graced him with a very acceptable welcome, yet marvelling -much at his so sodaine comming. Lady (quoth he) I met your -Husband upon the way, which granting mine accesse to see you; I come -to claime your long delayed promise, the time being now so favourable -for it.</p> - -<p>Before he had uttered halfe these words, <i>Beltramo</i>, having forgot an -especiall evidence in his Study, which was the onely occasion of his -journey, came gallopping backe againe into the Castell Court, and seeing -such a goodly Gelding stand fastened there, could not readily imagine -who was the owner thereof. The waiting woman, upon the sight -of her Masters entring into the Court, came to her Lady, saying: My -Master <i>Beltramo</i> is returned backe, newly alighted, and (questionlesse) -comming up the staires. Now was our Lady <i>Isabella</i>, ten times worse -affrighted then before, (having two severall amourous suters in her -house, both hoping, neither speeding, yet her credite lying at the stake -for either) by this unexpected returne of her Husband. Moreover, -there was no possible meanes, for the concealing of Signior <i>Lambertuccio</i>, -because his Gelding stood in the open Court, and therefore made -a shrewde presumption against her, upon the least doubtfull question -urged.</p> - -<p>Neverthelesse, as womens wits are alwayes best upon sudden constraints, -looking forth of her window, and espying her Husband preparing -to come up: she threw her selfe on her day Couch, speaking thus -(earnestly) to <i>Lambertuccio</i>. Sir, if ever you loved mee, and would have -me faithfully to beleeve it, by the instant safety both of your owne honour, -and my life, doe but as I advise you. Forth draw your Sword, -and, with a stearne countenance, threatning death and destruction: run -downe the staires, and when you are beneath, say. I sweare by my best -fortunes, although I misse of thee now heere, yet I will be sure to finde -thee some where else. And if my Husband offer to stay you, or moove -any question to you: make no other answere, but what you formerly -spake in fury. Beside, so soone as you are mounted on horsebacke, -have no further conference with him, upon any occasion -whatsoever; to prevent all suspition in him, of our future intendments.</p> - -<p><i>Lambertuccio</i> sware many terrible oathes, to observe her directions in -every part, and having drawne forth his Sword, grasping it naked in his -hand, and setting worse lookes one the businesse, then ever nature gave -him, because he had spent so much labour in vaine; he failed not in a jot -of the Ladies injunction. <i>Beltramo</i> having commanded his horse to -safe custody, and meeting <i>Lambertuccio</i> discending downe the staires, so -armed, swearing, and most extreamely storming, wondring extraordinarily -as his threatning words, made offer to imbrace him, and understand -the reason of his distemper. <i>Lambertuccio</i> repulsing him rudely, -and setting foote in the stirrup, mounted on his Gelding, and spake nothing -else but this. I sweare by the fairest of all my fortunes, although -I misse of thee heere: yet I will be sure to find thee some where else, and -so he gallopped mainely away.</p> - -<p>When <i>Beltramo</i> was come up into his wives Chamber, hee found her -cast downe upon her Couch, weeping, full of feare, and greatly discomforted; -wherefore he said unto her, What is hee that Signior <i>Lambertuccio</i> -is so extreamely offended withall, and threatneth in such implacable -manner? The Lady arising from her Couch, and going neere to the -Beds, because <i>Lionello</i> might the better heare her; returned her Husband -this answere. Husband (quoth she) never was I so dreadfully affrighted -till now; for, a young Gentleman, of whence, or what he is, I know not, -came running into our Castle for rescue, being pursued by Signior <i>Lambertuccio</i>; -with a weapon ready drawne in his hand. Ascending up our stayres, -by what fortune, I know not, he found my chamber doore standing open, finding -me also working on my Sampler, and in wonderfull feare and trembling.</p> - -<p>Good Madame (quoth hee) for Gods sake helpe to save my life, or else -I shall be slaine heere in your Chamber. Hearing his pittious cry, and compassionating -his desperate case; I arose from my worke, and in my demaunding -of whence, and what he was, that durst presume so boldly into my bed-chamber: -presently came up Signior <i>Lambertuccio</i> also, in the same uncivill -sorte, as before I tolde you, swaggering and swearing, where is this traiterous -villaine? Heereupon, I stept (somewhat stoutly) to my Chamber doore, -and as hee offered to enter, with a womans courage I resisted him, which -made him so much enraged against mee, that when hee saw mee to debarre -his entrance; after many terrible and vile oathes and vowes, hee ranne -downe the stayres againe, in such like manner as you chaunced to meete -him.</p> - -<p>Now trust mee deare wife (said <i>Beltramo</i>) you behaved your selfe -very well and worthily: for, it would have beene a most notorious scandall -to us, if a man should bee slaine in your bed-chamber: and Signior -<i>Lambertuccio</i> carryed himselfe most dishonestly, to pursue any man so -outragiously, having taken my Castle as his Sanctuary. But alas wife, -what is become of the poore affrighted Gentleman? Introth Sir (quoth -she) I know not, but (somewhere or other) heereabout hee is hidden. -Where art thou honest friend? said plaine meaning <i>Beltramo</i>; Come -forth and feare not, for thine enemy is gone.</p> - -<p><i>Lionello</i>, who had heard all the fore-passed discourse, which shee -had delivered to her Husband <i>Beltramo</i>, came creeping forth amazedly -(as one now very fearefully affrighted indeede) from under the further -side of the bedde, and <i>Beltramo</i> saide to him, What a quarrell was -this, between thee and furious <i>Lambertuccio</i>? Not any at all Sir, replyed -<i>Lionello</i>, to my knowledge, which verily perswadeth me; that either he -is not well in his wits, or else he mistaketh me for some other; because, -so soone as he saw me on the way, somewhat neere to this your Castle, -he drew forth his Sword, and swearing an horrible oath, said. Traitor -thou art a dead man. Upon these rough words, I stayed not to question -the occasion of mine offending him: but fled from him so fast as possibly -I could; but confesse my selfe (indeede) over-bold, by presuming -into your Ladies bed chamber, which yet (equalled with her mercie) -hath bin the onely meanes at this time, of saving my life.</p> - -<p>She hath done like a good Lady, answered <i>Beltramo</i>, and I do verie -much commend her for it. But, recollect thy dismayed spirits together, -for I will see thee safely secured hence, afterward, looke to thy -selfe so well as thou canst. Dinner being immediately made ready, and -they having merrily feasted together: he bestowed a good Gelding on -<i>Lionello</i>, and rode along with him to <i>Florence</i>, where he left him quietly -in his owne lodging. The selfe-same Evening (according as <i>Isabella</i> -had given enstruction) <i>Lionello</i> conferred with <i>Lambertuccio</i>: and such -an agreement passed betweene them, that though some rough speeches -were noised abroad, to set the better colour on the businesse; yet al matters -were so cleanly carried, that <i>Beltramo</i> never knew this queint deceitfull -policy of his Wife.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Lodovico_discovered_to_his_Mistresse_Madame_Beatrix_how_amorously_he" id="Lodovico_discovered_to_his_Mistresse_Madame_Beatrix_how_amorously_he">Lodovico <i>discovered to his Mistresse Madame</i> Beatrix, <i>how amorously he -was affected to her. She cunningly sent</i> Egano <i>her Husband into his garden, -in all respects disguised like herselfe, while (friendly)</i> Lodovico -<i>conferred with her in the meane while. Afterward,</i> Lodovico <i>pretending -a lascivious allurement of his Mistresse, thereby to wrong his honest Master, -insted of her, beateth</i> Egano <i>soundly in the Garden.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Seventh Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Whereby is declared, that such as keepe many honest seeming servants, may -sometime finde a knave among them, and one that proves to be over-sawcy -with his Master.</i></h4> - - -<p>This so sodaine dexterity of wit in <i>Isabella</i>, related in verie modest -manner by Madame <i>Pampinea</i>, was not onely admired -by all the company; but likewise passed with as generall approbation. -But yet Madam <i>Philomena</i> (whom the King had commanded -next to succeede) peremptorily sayde. Worthy Ladies, if I am -not deceived; I intend to tell you another Tale presently; as much to -be commended as the last.</p> - -<p>You are to understand then, that it is no long while since, when there -dwelt in <i>Paris</i> a <i>Florentine</i> Gentleman, who falling into decay of his estate, -by over-bountifull expences; undertooke the degree of a Merchant, -and thrived so well by his trading, that he grew to great wealth, -having one onely sonne by his wife, named <i>Lodovico</i>. This Sonne, partaking -somewhat in his Fathers former height of minde, and no way inclineable -to deale in Merchandize, had no meaning to be a Shop-man, -and therefore accompanied the Gentlemen of <i>France</i>, in sundry services -for the King; among whom, by his singular good carriage and qualities, -he happened to be not meanly esteemed. While thus he continued -in the Court, it chanced, that certaine Knights, returning from -<i>Jerusalem</i>, having there visited the holy Sepulcher, and comming into -company where <i>Lodovico</i> was: much familiar discourse passed amongst -them, concerning the faire women of <i>France, England,</i> and other parts -of the world where they had bin, and what delicate beauties they had -seene.</p> - -<p>One in the company constantly avouched, that of all the Women by -them so generally observed, there was not any comparable to the Wife -of <i>Egano de Galluzzi</i>, dwelling in <i>Bologna</i>, and her name Madam <i>Beatrix</i>, -reputed to be the onely faire woman of the world. Many of the rest -maintained as much, having bin at <i>Bologna</i>, and likewise seene her. <i>Lodovico</i> -hearing the woman to be so highly commended, and never (as -yet) feeling any thought of amorous inclination; became sodainely -toucht with an earnest desire of seeing her, and his minde could entertaine -no other matter, but onely of travailing thither to see her, yea, and -to continue there, if occasion so served. The reason for his journey urged -to his Father, was to visit <i>Jerusalem</i>, and the holy Sepulcher, which -with much difficulty, at length he obtained his leave.</p> - -<p>Being on his journey towards <i>Bologna</i>, by the name of <i>Anichino</i>, and -not of <i>Lodovico</i>, and being there arrived; upon the day following, and -having understood the place of her abiding: it was his good happe, to -see the Lady at her Window; she appearing in his eye farre more faire, -then all reports had made her to be. Heereupon, his affection became -so enflamed to her, as he vowed, never to depart from <i>Bologna</i>, untill he -had obtained her love. And devising by what meanes he might effect -his hopes, he grew perswaded (setting all other attempts aside) that if he -could be entertained into her Husbands service, and undergo some businesse -in the house, time might tutor him to obtaine his desire. Having -given his attendants sufficient allowance, to spare his company, and take -no knowledge of him, selling his Horses also, and other notices which -might discover him: he grew into acquaintance with the Hoste of the -house where he lay, revealing an earnest desire in himselfe, to serve som -Lord or worthy Gentleman, if any were willing to give him entertainment.</p> - -<p>Now beleeve me Sir (answered the Hoste) you seeme worthy to have a -good service indeede, and I know a Noble Gentleman of this Cittie, who is named -<i>Egano</i>: he wil (without all question) accept your offer, for hee keepeth -many men of verie good deserving, and you shall have my furtherance therein -so much as may be. As he promised, so he performed, and taking <i>Anichino</i> -with him unto <i>Egano</i>: so farre he prevailed by his friendly protestations, -and good opinion of the young Gentleman; that <i>Anichino</i> -was (without more ado) accepted into <i>Eganoes</i> service, then which, nothing -could be more pleasing to him. Now had he the benefit of dayly -beholding his hearts Mistresse, and so acceptable proved his service to -<i>Egano</i>, that he grew very farre in love with him: not undertaking any -affayres whatsoever, without the advice and direction of <i>Anichino</i>, so -that he reposed his most especiall trust in him, as a man altogether governed -by him.</p> - -<p>It fortuned upon a day, that <i>Egano</i> being ridden to flye his Hawke at -the River, and <i>Anichino</i> remaining behinde at home, Madame <i>Beatrix</i>, -who (as yet) had taken no notice of <i>Anichinoes</i> love to her (albeit her -selfe, observing his fine carriage and commendable qualities, was -highly pleased to have so seeming a servant) called him to play at the -Chesse with her: and <i>Anichino</i>, coveting nothing more then to content -her, carried himselfe so dexteriously in the game, that he permitted hir -still to win, which was no little joy to her. When all the Gentle-women, -and other friends there present, as spectators to behold their play, -had taken their farewell, and were departed, leaving them all alone, yet -gaming still: <i>Anichino</i> breathing forth an intire sigh, Madame <i>Beatrix</i> -looking merrily on him, said. Tell me <i>Anichino</i>, art not thou angrie, to -see me win? It should appeare so by that solemne sigh. No truly Madame, -answered <i>Anichino</i>, a matter of farre greater moment, then losse -of infinite games at the Chesse, was the occasion why I sighed. I pray -thee (replyed the Lady) by the love thou bearest me, as being my Servant -(if any love at all remain in thee towards me) give me a reason for -that harty sigh.</p> - -<p>When he heard himselfe so severely conjured, by the love he bare to -her, and loved none else in the world beside: he gave a farre more hart-sicke -sigh, then before. Then his Lady and Mistresse entreated him seriously, -to let her know the cause of those two deepe sighes: whereto -<i>Anichino</i> thus replyed. Madam, if I should tell you, I stand greatly in feare -of offending you: and when I have told you, I doubt your discovery thereof to -some other. Beleeve me <i>Anichino</i> (quoth she) therein thou neither canst, or -shalt offend me. Moreover, assure thy selfe, that I wil never disclose it to any -other, except I may do it with thy consent. Madame (saide hee) seeing you -have protested such a solemne promise to mee, I will reveale no meane secret -unto you.</p> - -<p>So, with teares standing in his eyes, he told her what he was; where -he heard the first report of her singular perfections, and instantly becam -enamored of her, as the maine motive of his entring into her service. -Then, most humbly he entreated her, that if it might agree with her -good liking, she would be pleased to commisserate his case; and grace -him with her private favours. Or, if shee might not be so mercifull to -him; that yet she would vouchsafe, to let him live in the lowly condition -as he did, and thinke it a thankefull duty in him, onely to love her. -O singular sweetnesse, naturally living in faire feminine blood! How -justly art thou worthy of praise in the like occasions? Thou couldst never -be wonne by sighes and teares; but hearty imprecations have alwayes -prevailed with thee, making thee apt and easie to amorous desires. -If I had praises answerable to thy great and glorious deservings, -my voice should never faint, nor my pen waxe weary, in the due and -obsequious performance of them.</p> - -<p>Madam <i>Beatrix</i>, well observing <i>Anichino</i> when he spake, and giving -credit to his so solemne protestations; they were so powerfull in prevailing -with her, that her senses (in the same manner) were enchanted; and -sighes flew as violently from her, as before he had vented them: which -stormy tempest being a little over-blowne, thus she spake. <i>Anichino</i>, my -hearts deere affected Friend, live in hope, for I tell thee truly, never could -gifts, promises, nor any Courtings used to me by Lords, Knights, Gentlemen, -or other (although I have bin solicited by many) winne the lest grace -or favour at my hand, no, nor move me to any affection. But thou, in a minute -of time (compared with their long and tedious suing) hast expressed -such a soveraigne potency in thy sweet words, that thou hast made me more -thine, then mine owne: and beleeve it unfeinedly, I hold thee to be worthy -of my love. Wherefore, with this kisse I freely give it thee, and make thee a -further promise, that before this night shall be fully past, thou shalt in better -manner perceive it. Adventure into my Chamber about the houre of -midnight, I will leave the doore open: thou knowest, on which side of the -bed I use to rest, come thither and feare not: if I sleep, the least gentle touch -of thy hand will wake me, and then thou shalt see how much I love thee. So, -with a kinde kisse or two, the bargaine was concluded, she licensing his -departure for that time, and he staying in hope of his hearts happinesse, -till when, he thought every houre a yeare.</p> - -<p>In the meane while, <i>Egano</i> returned home from Hawking, and so -soone as he had supt (being very weary) he went to bed, and his Ladie -likewise with him, leaving her Chamber doore open, according as she -had promised. At the houre appointed, <i>Anichino</i> came, finding the -doore but easily put too, which (being entred) softly he closed againe, -in the same manner as he found it. Going to the beds side where the -Lady lay, and gently touching her brest with his hand, he found her to -be awake, and perceiving he was come according unto promise, shee -caught his hand fast with hers, and held him very strongly. Then, turning -(as she could) towards <i>Egano</i>, she made such meanes, as hee awaked, -whereupon she spake unto him as followeth.</p> - -<p>Sir, yesternight I would have had a fewe speeches with you: but, in regard -of your wearinesse and early going to bed, I could not have any opportunity. -Now, this time and place being most convenient, I desire to bee resolved -by you: Among all the men retained into your service; which of them -you do thinke to be the best, most loyall, and worthiest to enjoy your love? -<i>Egano</i> answered thus: Wife, why should you move such a question to me? Do -not you know, that I never had any servant heeretofore, or ever shall have -heereafter, in whom I reposed the like trust as I have done, and do in <i>Anichino</i>? -But to what end is this motion of yours? I will tell you Sir (quoth -she) and then be Judge yourself, whether I have reason to move this question, -or no. Mine opinion every way equalled yours, concerning <i>Anichino</i>, & -that he was more just and faithfull to you, then any could be amongest all -the rest: But Husband, like as where the water runneth stillest, the Foord -is deepest, even so, his smooth lookes have beguiled both you and me. For, -no longer agoe, then this verie day, no sooner were you ridden foorth on -Hauking, but he (belike purposely) tarrying at home, watching such a leysure -as best fitted his intent: was not ashamed to solicite mee, both to abuse -your bed, and mine owne spotlesse honour.</p> - -<p>Moreover, he prosecuted his impious purpose with such alluring perswasions: -that being a weake woman, and not willing to endure over many Amorous -proofes (onely to acquaint you with his most sawcie immodestie, -and to revenge your selfe uppon him as best you may; your selfe beeing best -able to pronounce him guiltie) I made him promise, to meete him in our -Garden, presently after midde-night, and to finde mee sitting under the -Pine-Tree, never meaning (as I am vertuous) to be there. But, that you -may know the deceite and falshoode of your Servant, I would have you to -put on my Night-gowne, my head Attire, and Chinne-cloath, and sitting -but a short while there underneath the Pine-Tree: such is his insatiate -desire, as he will not faile to come, and then you may proceede, as you finde -occasion.</p> - -<p>When <i>Egano</i> heard these Words, sodainely hee started out of Bed, -saying. Doe I foster such a Snake in mine owne bosome? Gramercie -Wife for this politicke promise of thine, and beleeve mee, I meane -to follow it effectually. So, on he put his Ladies Night-gown, her formall -head Attire and Chin-cloth, going presently downe into the Garden, -to expect <i>Anichinoes</i> comming to the Pine-Tree. But before the -matter grew to this issue, let me demand of you faire Ladies, in what a -lamentable condition (as you may imagine) was poore <i>Anichino</i>; to bee -so strongly detained by her, heare all his amorous suite discovered, and -likely to draw very heavy afflictions on him? Undoubtedly, he looked -for immediate apprehension by <i>Egano</i>, imprisonment and publike punishment -for his so malapert presumption: and had it proved so, she had -much renowned her selfe, and dealt with him but as he had justlie deserved.</p> - -<p>But frailtie in our feminine sex is too much prevalent, and makes us -wander from vertuous courses, when we are wel onward in the way to -them. Madam <i>Beatrix</i>, whatsoever passed betweene her and <i>Anichino</i>, I -know not, but, either to continue this new begunne league for further -time, or, to be revenged on her husbands simplicity, in over-rashlie giving -credit to so smooth a ly; this was her advise to him. <i>Anichino</i> quoth -she, Take a good Cudgell in thy hand, then go into the Garden so farre as -the Pine; and there, as if formerly thou hadst solicited mee unto this secret -meeting, only but by way of approving my honestie: in my name, revile -thy master so bitterly as thou canst, bestowing manie sound blowes on him -with thy cudgel; yet urge the shame stil (as it were) to mee, and never leave -him, til thou hast beaten him out of the garden, to teach him keepe his bed -another time. Such an apt Scholler as <i>Anichino</i> was in this kind, needs no -tuturing, but a word is enough to a ready Wit. To the Garden goes -he, with a good willow cudgell in his hand, and comming neere to the -Pine-tree, there he found <i>Egano</i> disguised like to his Lady, who arising -from the place where he sate, went with chearefull gesture to welcome -him; but <i>Anichino</i> (in rough and stearne manner) thus spake unto him. -Wicked, shamelesse, and most immodest Woman, Art thou come, according -to thine unchaste and lascivious promise? Couldest thou so easily credite, -(though I tempted thee, to trie the vertue of thy continencie) I would offer -such a damnable wrong to my worthy Master, that so deerely loves me, and -reposeth his especiall confidence in me? Thou art much deceived in me, and -shalt finde, that I hate to be false to him.</p> - -<p>So lifting up the Cudgell, he gave him therewith halfe a score good -bastinadoes, laying them on soundly, both on his armes and shoulders: -and <i>Egano</i> feeling the smart of them, durst not speake one Worde, but -fled away from him so fast as hee could, <i>Anichino</i> still following, and -multiplying many other injurious speeches against him, with the Epithites -of Strumpet, lustfull and insatiate Woman. Go thou lewde beast -(quoth he) most unworthy the title of a Lady, or to be Wife unto so good a -natured man, as my Mayster is, to whom I will reveale thy most ungracious -incivility to Morrow, that he may punish thee a little better then I have -done.</p> - -<p><i>Egano</i> being thus well beaten for his Garden walke, got within the -doore, and so went up to his Chamber againe: his Lady there demanding -of him, whether <i>Anichino</i> came according to his promise, or no? -Come? quoth Egano, Yes Wife, he came, but deerely to my cost: for hee verily -taking me for thee, hath beaten me most extreamly, calling me an hundred -Whores and Strumpets, reputing thee to bee the wickedest Woman living. -In good sadnesse <i>Beatrix</i>, I wondred not a little at him, that he would -give thee any such vile speeches, with intent to wrong mee in mine honour. -Questionlesse, because hee saw thee to be joviall spirited, gracious and affable -towardes all men; therefore hee intended to make triall of thine honest -carriage. Well Sir (sayde shee) twas happy that hee tempted mee with -words, and let you taste the proofe of them by deeds: and let him thinke, -that I brooke those words as distastably, as you do or can, his ill deeds. But -seeing he is so just, faithfull, and loyall to you, you may love him the better, -and respect him as you finde occasion.</p> - -<p>Whereto <i>Egano</i> thus replyed. Now trust me wife, thou hast said very -well: And drawing hence the argument of his setled perswasion; that -he had the chastest Woman living to his wife, and so just a Servant, as -could not be fellowed: there never was any further discoverie of this -Garden-night accident. Perhaps, Madame <i>Beatrix</i> and <i>Anichino</i> might -subtilly smile thereat in secret, in regard that they knew more then any -other else beside did. But, as for honest meaning <i>Egano</i>, hee never -had so much as the verie least mistrust of ill dealing, either in his -Lady, or <i>Anichino</i>; whom hee loved and esteemed farre more respectively -uppon this proofe of his honestie towards him, then hee would -or could possibly have done, without a triall so playne and pregnant.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Arriguccio_Berlinghieri_became_immeasurably_jelous_of_his_Wife_Simonida" id="Arriguccio_Berlinghieri_became_immeasurably_jelous_of_his_Wife_Simonida">Arriguccio Berlinghieri, <i>became immeasurably jelous of his Wife</i> Simonida, -<i>who fastened a thred about her great toe, for to serve as a signall, -when her amorous friend should come to visite her.</i> Arriguccio <i>findeth -the fallacie, and while he pursueth the amorous friend, shee causeth her -Maide to lye in her bed against his returne: whom he beateth extreamly, -cutting away the lockes of her haire (thinking he had doone all this -violence to his wife</i> Simonida:) <i>and afterward fetcheth her Mother & -Brethren, to shame her before them, and so be rid of her. But they finding -all his speeches to be utterly false; and reputing him to bee a drunken -jealous foole; all the blame and disgrace falleth on himselfe.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Eight Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Whereby appeareth, that an Husband ought to be very well advised, when -he meaneth to discover any wrong offered his wife; except hee himselfe -do rashly run into all the shame and reproach.</i></h4> - - -<p>It seemed to the whole assembly, that Madam <i>Beatrix</i>, dealte -somewhat strangely, in the manner of beguiling her husband; -and affirmed also, that <i>Anichino</i> had great cause of fear, when -she held him so strongly by her beds side, and related all his amorous -temptation. But when the King perceyved, that Madame <i>Philomena</i> -sate silent, he turned to Madam <i>Neiphila</i>, willing her to supply the next -place; who modestly smiling, thus began.</p> - -<p>Faire Ladies, it were an heavy burthen imposed on me, and a matter -much surmounting my capacity, if I should vainely imagine, to content -you with so pleasing a Novell, as those have already done, by you so -singularly reported: neverthelesse, I must discharge my dutie, and take -my fortune as it fals, albeit I hope to finde you mercifull.</p> - -<p>You are to know then, that sometime there lived in our Citie, a very -welthy Merchant, named <i>Arriguccio Berlinghieri</i>, who (as many Merchants -have done) fondly imagined, to make himselfe a Gentleman by -marriage. Which that he might the more assuredly do, he took to wife -a Gentlewoman, one much above his degree or element, she being named -<i>Simonida</i>. Now, in regard that he delighted (as it is the usuall life -of a Merchant) to be often abroad, and little at home, whereby shee -had small benefit of his company; shee grew very forward in affection -with a young Gentleman, called Signior <i>Roberto</i>, who had solicited hir -by many amorous meanes, and (at length) prevailed to win her favor. -Which favour being once obtained; affection gaddes so farre beyond al -discretion, and makes Lovers so heedelesse of their private conversations: -that either they are taken tardy in their folly, or else subjected to -scandalous suspition.</p> - -<p>It came to passe, that <i>Arriguccio</i>, either by rumour, or some other -more sensible apprehension, had received such intelligence concerning -his Wife <i>Simonida</i>, as he grew into extraordinarie jealousie of her, refraining -travaile abroad, as formerly he was wont to doe, and ceassing -from his verie ordinary affayres, addicting all his care and endeavour, -onely to be watchfull of his Wife; so that he never durst sleepe, untill -she were by him in the bed, which was no meane molestation to her, -being thus curbd from her familiar meetings with <i>Roberto</i>. Neverthelesse, -having a long while consulted with her wittes, to find some apte -meanes for conversing with him, being thereto also very earnestlie still -solicited by him; you shall heare what course she undertooke.</p> - -<p>Her Chamber being on the streete side, and somewhat juttying over -it, she observed the disposition of her Husband, that every night it was -long before he fell asleepe: but beeing once falne into it, no noyse -whatsoever, could easily wake him. This his solemne and sound sleeping, -emboldned her so farre, as to meete with <i>Roberto</i> at the streete -doore, which (while her Husband slept) softly she would open to him, -and there in private converse with him.</p> - -<p>But, because shee would know the certaine houre of his comming, -without the least suspition of any: she hung a thred forth of her Chamber -Window, descending downe, within the compasse of <i>Robertoes</i> -reach in the street, and the other end thereof, guided from the Window -to the bed, being conveyed under the cloathes, and shee being in -bed, she fastned it about her left great Toe, wherewith <i>Roberto</i> was sufficiently -acquainted, and thus enstructed withall; that at his comming, -he should plucke the thred, & if her husband was in his dead sleep, she -would let go the thred, and come downe to him: but if he slept not, she -would hold it strongly, and then his tarrying would prove but in vaine; -there could be no meeting that night.</p> - -<p>This devise was highly pleasing both to <i>Roberto</i> and <i>Simonida</i>, being -the intelligencer of their often meeting, and many times also advising -the contrary. But in the end, as the quaintest cunning may faile at -one time or another; so it fortuned one night, that <i>Simonida</i> being in a -sound sleepe, and <i>Arriguccio</i> waking, because his drowsie houre was -not as yet come: as he extended forth his legge in the bed, he found the -thred, which feeling in his hand, and perceiving it was tyed to his wives -great toe; it prooved apt tinder to kindle further Jealousie, and now hee -suspected some treachery indeede, and so much the rather because the -thred guided (under the cloathes) from the bed to the window, and there -hanging downe into the streete, as a warning to some further businesse.</p> - -<p>Now was <i>Arriguccio</i> so furiously enflamed, that hee must needes bee -further resolved in this apparant doubt: and because therein hee would -not be deceived, softly he cut the thred from his wives toe, and made it -fast about his owne; to trye what successe would ensue thereon. It was -not long before <i>Roberto</i> came, and according as hee used to doe, hee -pluckt the thred, which <i>Arriguccio</i> felt, but because hee had not tyed it -fast, and <i>Roberto</i> pulling it over-hardly, it fell downe from the window -into his hand, which he understood as his lesson, to attend her comming, -and so hee did. <i>Arriguccio</i> stealing softly out of bed from his wife, and -taking his Sword under his arme, went downe to the doore, to see who -it was, with full intent of further revenge. Now, albeit he was a Merchant, -yet he wanted not courage, and boldnesse of spirit, and opening -the doore without any noyse, onely as his wife was wont to doe: <i>Roberto</i>, -there waiting his entrance, perceived by the doores unfashionable opening, -that it was not <i>Simonida</i>, but her Husband, whereupon he betooke -himselfe to flight, and <i>Arriguccio</i> fiercely followed him. At the -length, <i>Roberto</i> perceiving that flight avayled him not, because his enemy -still pursued him: being armed also with a Sword, as <i>Arriguccio</i> -was; he returned backe upon him, the one offering to offend, as the other -stood upon his defence, and so in the darke they fought together.</p> - -<p><i>Simonida</i> awaking, even when her Husband went foorth of the -Chamber, and finding the thred to be cut from her toe; conjectured -immediately, that her subtle cunning was discovered, and supposing -her Husband in pursuite of <i>Roberto</i>, presently she arose; and, considering -what was likely to ensue thereon, called her Chamber-maide (who -was not ignorant in the businesse) and by perswasions prevailed so with -her, that she lay downe in her place in the bed, upon solemne protestations -and liberall promises, not to make her selfe knowne, but to suffer all -patiently, either blowes, or other ill usage of her Husband, which shee -would recompence in such bountifull sort, as she should have no occasion -to complaine. So, putting out the watch-light, which every night -burned in the Chamber, she departed thence, and sate downe in a close -corner of the house, to see what would be the end of all this stirre, after -her Husbands comming home.</p> - -<p>The fight (as you have formerly heard) continuing betweene <i>Roberto</i> -and <i>Arriguccio</i>, the neighbours hearing of the clashing of their Swords -in the streets; arose out of their beds, and reproved them in very harsh -manner. In which respect <i>Arriguccio</i>, fearing to be knowne, and ignorant -also what his adversary was (no harme being as yet done on either -side) permitted him to depart; and extreamely full of anger, returned -backe againe to his house. Being come up into his bed-chamber, Thus -he began; Where is this lewde and wicked woman? what? hast thou put -out the light, because I should not finde thee? that shall not avayle thee, -for I can well enough finde a drab in the darke. So, groping on to the -beds side, and thinking hee had taken hold on his wife, he grasped the -Chamber-maide, so beating her with his fists, and spurning her with his -feet, that all her face was bloody & bruised. Next, with his knife he cut off -a great deal of her haire: giving her the most villanous speeches as could -be devised: swearing, that he would make her a shame to all the world.</p> - -<p>You need make no doubt, but the poore maide wept exceedingly, as -she had good occasion to doe: and albeit many times she desired mercy, -and that hee would not bee so cruell to her: yet notwithstanding, her -voyce was so broken with crying, and his impacience so extreame, that -rage hindered all power of distinguishing, or knowing his wives tongue -from a strangers. Having thus madly beaten her, and cut the lockes off -from her head, thus he spake to her. Wicked woman, and no wife of mine, -be sure I have not done with thee yet; for, although I meane not now to beate -thee any longer: I will goe to thy brethren, and they shall understand thy -dishonest behaviour. Then will I bring them home with me, and they perceiving -how much thou hast abused both their honour and thine owne; let -them deale with thee as they finde occasion, for thou art no more a companion -for me. No sooner had he uttered these angry words, but hee went -forth of the Chamber, bolting it fast on the outward side, as meaning to -keepe her safely inclosed, & out of the house he went alone by himselfe.</p> - -<p><i>Simonida</i>, who had heard all this tempestuous conflict, perceiving -that her Husband had lockt the streete doore after him, and was gone -whether he pleased: unbolted the Chamber doore, lighted a waxe candle, -and went in to see her poore maide, whom she found to be most pittifully -misused. She comforted her as well as she could, brought her -into her owne lodging Chamber, where washing her face and hurts in -very soveraigne waters, and rewarding her liberally with <i>Arriguccioes</i> -owne Gold; she held her selfe to bee sufficiently satisfyed. So, leaving -the maide in her lodging, and returning againe to her owne Chamber: -she made up the bed in such former manner, as if no body had lodged -therein that night. Then hanging up her Lampe fresh fild with oyle, and -clearly lighted, she deckt her selfe in so decent sort, as if she had bin in no -bed all that night.</p> - -<p>Then taking sowing worke in her hand, either shirts or bands of her -Husbands; hanging the Lampe by her, and sitting downe at the stayres -head, she fell to worke in very serious manner, as if shee had undertaken -some imposed taske.</p> - -<p>On the other side, <i>Arriguccio</i> had travelled so farre from his house, -till he came at last to the dwelling of <i>Simonidaes</i> brethren: where hee -knockt so soundly, that he was quickely heard, and (almost as speedily) -let in. <i>Simonidaes</i> brethren, and her mother also, hearing of <i>Arriguccioes</i> -comming thither so late. Rose from their beds, and each of them -having a Waxe Candle lighted came presently to him, to understand -the cause of this his so unseasonable visitation. <i>Arriguccio</i>, beginning at -the originall of the matter, the thred found tyed about his wives great -toe, the fight and houshold conflict after following: related every circumstance -to them. And for the better proofe of his words, he shewed -them the thred it selfe, the lockes supposed of his wives haire, and adding -withall; that they might now dispose of <i>Simonida</i> as themselves -pleased, because she should remaine no longer in his house.</p> - -<p>The brethren to <i>Simonida</i> were exceedingly offended at this relation, -in regard they beleeved it for truth, and in this fury, commanded Torches -to be lighted, preparing to part thence with <i>Arriguccio</i> home to his -house, for the more sharpe reprehension of their Sister. Which when -their mother saw, she followed them weeping, first entreating one, and -then the other, not to be over rash in crediting such a slander, but rather -to consider the truth thereof advisedly: because the Husband might be -angry with his Wife upon some other occasion, and having outraged -her, made this the meanes in excuse of himselfe. Moreover she said, that -she could not chuse but wonder greatly, how this matter should thus -come to passe; because she had good knowledge of her daughter, during -the whole course of her education, faultlesse and blamelesse in every -degree; with many other good words of her beside, as proceeding from -naturall affection of a mother.</p> - -<p>Being come to the house of <i>Arriguccio</i>, entring in, and ascending up -the stayres: they heard <i>Simonida</i> sweetly singing at her working; but -pausing, upon hearing their rude trampling, shee demaunded, who was -there. One of the angry brethren presently answered: Lewde woman -as thou art, thou shalt know soone enough who is heere: Our blessed Lady -be with us (quoth <i>Simonida</i>) and sweet Saint Frances helpe to defend me, -who dare use such unseemely speeches? Starting up and meeting them on -the staire head: Kinde brethren, (said she) is it you? What, and my loving -mother too? For sweet Saint Charities sake, what may be the reason of your -comming hither in this manner. Shee being set downe againe to her -worke, so neatly apparelled, without any signe of outrage offered her, -her face unblemished, her haire comely ordered, and differing wholly -from the former speeches of her Husband: the Brethren marvelled -thereat not a little; and asswaging somewhat the impetuous torrent of -their rage; began to demaund in coole blood, (as it were) from what -ground her Husbands complaints proceeded, and threatning her -roughly, if she would not confesse the truth intirely to them.</p> - -<p>Ave Maria (quoth <i>Simonida</i>, crossing her selfe) Alas deare Brethren, -I know not what you say, or meane, nor wherein my Husband should bee offended, -or make any complaint at all of me. <i>Arriguccio</i> hearing this, looked -on her like a man that had lost his Senses: for well he remembred, -how many cruell blowes he had given her on the face, beside scratches -of his nailes, and spurnes of his feet, as also the cutting of her haire, the -the least shew of all which misusage, was not now to be seene. Her brethren -likewise briefly told her, the whole effect of her Husbands speeches, -shewing her the thred, and in what cruell manner he sware hee did -beate her. <i>Simonida</i>, turning then to her Husband, and seeming as confounded -with amazement, said. How is this Husband? what doe I heare? -would you have me supposed (to your owne shame and disgrace) to be a bad -woman, and your selfe a cruell curst man, when (on either side) there is no -such matter? When were you this night heere in the house with mee? Or -when should you beate mee, and I not feele nor know it. Beleeve me (sweete -heart) all these are meerely miracles to me.</p> - -<p>Now was <i>Arriguccio</i> ten times more mad in his minde, then before, -saying. Divell, and no woman, did wee not this night goe both together to -bed? Did not I cut this thred from thy great toe, tyed it to mine, and found -the craftie compact betweene thee and thy Minnion? Did not I follow and -fight with him in the streets? Came I not backe againe, and beate thee as -a Strumpet should be? And are not these the locks of haire, which I my -selfe did cut from thy head?</p> - -<p>Alas Sir (quoth she) where have you been? doe you know what you say? -you did not lodge in this house this night, neither did I see you all the whole -day and night, till now.</p> - -<p>But leaving this, and come to the matter now in question, because I -have no other testimony then mine owne words. You say, that you -did beate me, and cut those lockes of haire from my head. Alas Sir, why -should you slander your selfe? In all your life time you did never strike -me. And to approve the truth of my speeches, doe you your selfe, and -all else heere present, looke on me advisedly, if any signe of blow or beating -is to be seene on me. Nor were it an easie matter for you to doe -either to smite, or so much as lay your hand (in anger) on me, it would -cost dearer then you thinke for. And whereas you say, that you did -cut those lockes of haire from my head; it is more then either I know, or -felt, nor are they in colour like to mine: but, because my Mother and brethren -shall be my witnesses therein, and whether you did it without my -knowledge; you shall all see, if they be cut, or no. So, taking off her -head attyre, she displayed her hayre over her shoulders, which had suffered -no violence, neither seemed to bee so much as uncivilly or rudely -handled.</p> - -<p>When the mother and brethren saw this, they began to murmure against -<i>Arriguccio</i>, saying, What thinke you of this Sir? you tell us of -strange matters which you have done, and all proving false, we wonder how -you can make good the rest. <i>Arriguccio</i> looked wilde, and confusedly, -striving still to maintaine his accusation: but seeing every thing to bee -flatly against him, he durst not attempt to speake one word. <i>Simonida</i> -tooke advantage of this distraction in him, and turning to her brethren, -saide. I see now the marke whereat he aymeth, to make me doe what I never -meante: Namely, that I should acquaint you with his vile qualities, and -what a wretched life I leade with him, which seeing hee will needes have -me to reveale; beare with me if I doe it upon compulsion.</p> - -<p>Mother and Brethren, I am verily perswaded, that those accidents which -he disclosed to you, hath doubtlesse (in the same manner) happened to him, -and you shall heare how. Very true it is, that this seeming honest man, to -whom (in a lucklesse houre) you married me, stileth himselfe by the name -of a Merchant, coveting to be so accounted and credited, as holy in outward -appearance, as a Religious Monke, and as demure in lookes, as the modestest -Maide: like a notorious common drunkard, is a Taverne hunter, where -making his luxurius matches, one while with one Whore, then againe with -another; hee causeth mee every night to sit tarrying for him, even in the -same sort as you found me: sometimes till midnight, and otherwhiles till -broad day light in the morning.</p> - -<p>And questionlesse, being in his wounted drunken humour, hee hath lyen -with one of his sweet Consorts, about whose toe he found the thred, and finding -her as false to him, as he hath alwayes been to me: Did not onely beat -her, but also cut the haire from her head. And having not yet recovered -his sences, is verily perswaded, and cannot be altered from it; but that hee -performed all this villany to me. And if you doe but advisedly observe his -countenance, he appeareth yet to be more then halfe drunke.</p> - -<p>But whatsoever he hath said concerning me, I make no account at all -thereof, because he spake it in his drunkennesse, and as freely as I forgive -him, even so (good Mother and kinde Brethren) let mee entreate you to do -the like.</p> - -<p>When the Mother had heard these words, and confidently beleeved -her Daughter: she began to torment her selfe with anger, saying. By the -faith of my body Daughter, this unkindnesse is not be endured, but rather -let the dogge be hanged, that his qualities may be knowne, he being utterly -unworthy, to have so good a woman to his wife, as thou art. What could he -have done more, if he had taken thee in the open streete, and in company of -some wanton Gallants? In an unfortunate houre wast thou married to him, -base jealous Coxecombe as he is, and it is quite against sense, or reason, that -thou shouldest be subject to his fooleries. What was hee, but a Merchant of -Eale-skinnes or Orenges; bred in some paltry countrey village; taken from -Hogge-rubbing; clothed in Sheepes-Sattin, with Clownish Startops, Leather -stockings, and Caddies garters: His whole habite not worth three -shillings: And yet he must have a faire Gentlewoman to his Wife, of honest -fame, riches and reputation; when, comparing his pedegree with hers, hee -is farre unfit to wipe her shooes.</p> - -<p>Oh my deare Sonnes, I would you had followed my counsell, and permitted -her to match in the honourable family of <i>Count Guido</i>, which was -much mooved, and seriously pursued. But you would needs bestow her on -this goodly Jewell; who, although shee is one of the choysest beauties in -Florence, chaste, honest and truely vertuous: Is not ashamed at midnight, -to proclaime her for a common whore, as if we had no better knowledge -of her. But by the blessed mother of Saint <i>John</i>, if you would be ruled -by mine advise; our law should make him dearely smart for it.</p> - -<p>Alas my sonnes, did I not tell you at home in our owne house, that his -words were no way likely to prove true? Have not your eyes observed his -unmannerly behaviour to your Sister? If I were as you are, hearing what -he hath said, and noting his drunken carriage beside; I should never give over, -as long as he had any life left in him. And were I a man, as I am a -woman; none other then my selfe should revenge her wrongs, making him -a publike spectacle to all drabbing drunkards.</p> - -<p>When the brethren had heard and observed all these occurrences; -in most bitter manner they railed on <i>Arriguccio</i>, bestowing some good -bastinadoes on him beside, concluding thus with him in the end. Quoth -one of them, Wee will pardon this shamefull abusing of our Sister, because -thou art a notorious drunkard: but looke to it (on perill of thy life) that -we have no more such newes hereafter; for, beleeve it unfainedly, if any -such impudent rumours happen to our eares, or so much as a flying fame -thereof; thou shalt surely be paide for both faults together.</p> - -<p>So home againe went they, and <i>Arriguccio</i> stood like one that had -neither life or motion, not knowing (whether what he had done) was -true, or no, or if he dreamed all this while, and so (without uttering any -word) he left his Wife, and went quietly to bed. Thus by her wisdome, -she did not onely prevent an imminent perill: but also made a free and -open passage, to further contentment with her amourous friend, yet -dreadlesse of any distaste or suspition in her Husband.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Lydia_a_Lady_of_great_beauty_birth_and_honour_being_wife_to_Nicostratus" id="Lydia_a_Lady_of_great_beauty_birth_and_honour_being_wife_to_Nicostratus">Lydia, <i>a Lady of great beauty, birth, and honour, being wife to</i> Nicostratus, -<i>Governour of</i> Argos, <i>falling in love with a Gentleman, named</i> Pyrrhus; -<i>was requested by him (as a true testimony of her unfeigned affection) -to performe three severall actions of her selfe. She did accomplish them -all, and imbraced and kissed</i> Pyrrhus <i>in the presence of</i> Nicostratus; <i>by -perswading him, that whatsoever he saw, was meerely false.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Ninth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is declared, that great Lords may sometime be deceived by their -Wives, as well as men of meaner condition.</i></h4> - - -<p>The Novell delivered, by Madame <i>Neiphila</i> seemed so pleasing -to all the Ladies; as they could not refraine from hearty laughter, -beside much liberality of speech. Albeit the King did oftentimes -urge silence, and commanded <i>Pamphilus</i> to follow next. So, when -attention was admitted, <i>Pamphilus</i> began in this order. I am of opinion, -faire Ladies, that there is not any matter, how uneasie or doubtfull -soever it may seeme to be; but the man or woman that affecteth fervently, -dare boldly attempt, and effectually accomplish. And this perswasion -of mine, although it hath beene sufficiently approved, by many -of our passed Novels: Yet notwithstanding, I shall make it much -apparent to you, by a present discourse of mine owne. Wherein I -have occasion to speake of a Lady, to whom Fortune was more favourable, -then either reason or judgement, could give direction. In -which regard, I would not advise any of you, to entertaine so high an -imagination of minde, as to tracke her footsteps of whom I am now to -speake: because Fortune containeth not alwayes one and the same disposition, -neither can all mens eyes be blinded after one manner. And so -proceed we to our Tale.</p> - -<p>In <i>Argos</i>, a most ancient Citie of <i>Achaya</i>, much more renowned by -her precedent Kings, then wealth, or any other great matter of worth: -there lived as Lieutenant or Governour thereof, a Noble Lord, named -<i>Nicostratus</i>, on whom (albeit hee was well stept into yeares) Fortune -bestowed in a marriage a great Lady, no lesse bold of spirit, then choisely -beautifull. <i>Nicostratus</i>, abounding in treasure and wealthy possessions, -kept a goodly trains of Servants, Horses, Houndes, Hawkes, and -what else not, as having an extraordinary felicity in all kinds of game, as -singular exercises to maintaine his health.</p> - -<p>Among his other Servants and Followers, there was a young Gentleman, -gracefull of person, excellent in speech, and every way as active -as no man could be more: his name <i>Pyrrhus</i>, highly affected of <i>Nicostratus</i>, -and more intimately trusted then all the rest. Such seemed the -perfections of this <i>Pyrrhus</i>, that <i>Lydia</i> (for so was the Lady named) began -to affect him very earnestly, and in such sort, as day or night shee -could take no rest, but devised all meanes to compasse her harts desire. -Now, whether he observed this inclination of her towards him, or else -would take no notice thereof, it could not be discerned by any outward -apprehension: which moved the more impatiency in her, & drove her -hopes to dispairing passions. Wherein to finde some comfort and ease, -she called an ancient Gentlewoman of her Chamber, in whom shee reposed -especiall confidence, and thus she spake to her.</p> - -<p><i>Lesca</i>, The good turnes and favours thou hast received from me, should -make thee faithfull and obedient to me: and therefore set a locke uppon thy -lippes, for revealing to any one whatsoever, such matters as now I shall impart -to thee; except it be to him that I command thee. Thou perceivest <i>Lesca</i>, -how youthfull I am, apt to all sprightly recreations, rich, and abounding -in all that a woman can wish to have, in regard of Fortunes common & ordinary -favours: yet I have one especiall cause of complaint: namely, the inequality -of my Mariage, my Husband being over-ancient for me; in which -regard, my youth finds it selfe too highly wronged, being defeated of those -duties and delights, which women (farre inferiour to me) are continuallie -cloyed withall, and I am utterly deprived of. I am subject to the same desires -they are, and deserve to taste the benefit of them, in as ample manner, -as they do or can.</p> - -<p>Hitherto I have lived with the losse of time, which yet (in some measure) -may be releeved and recompenced: For, though Fortune were mine enemy -in Mariage, by such a disproportion of our conditions: yet she may befriend -in another nature, and kindely redeeme the injury done me. Wherefore <i>Lesca</i>, -to be as compleate in this case, as I am in all the rest beside; I have resolved -upon a private Friend, and one more worthy then any other; Namely, -my Servant <i>Pyrrhus</i>, whose youth carieth some correspondency with mine; -and so constantly have I setled my love to him, as I am not well, but when I -thinke on him, or see him: and (indeede) shall dye, except the sooner I may -enjoy him. And therefore, if my life and well-fare be respected by thee, let -him understand the integrity of mine affection, by such good means as thou -findest it most expedient to be done: entreating him from me, that I may -have some conference with him, when he shall thereto be solicited by me.</p> - -<p>The Chamber-Gentlewoman <i>Lesca</i>, willingly undertooke the Ladies -Embassie; and so soone as opportunity did favor her: having withdrawne -<i>Pyrrhus</i> into an apt and commodious place, shee delivered the -Message to him, in the best manner she could devise. Which <i>Pyrrhus</i> -hearing, did not a little wonder thereat, never having noted any such -matter; and therefore sodainly conceyved, that the Lady did this onely -to try him; whereupon, somewhat roundly and roughly, hee returned -this answere. <i>Lesca</i>, I am not so simple, as to credite any such Message to -be sent from my Lady, and therefore be better advised of thy words. But admit -that it should come from her, yet I cannot be perswaded, that her soule -consented to such harsh Language, far differing from a forme so full of beauty. -And yet admit againe, that her hart and tongue herein were relatives: -My Lord and Master hath so farre honoured mee, and so much beyond the -least part of merite in mee: as I will rather dye, then any way offer to disgrace -him: And therefore I charge thee, never more to move mee in this -matter.</p> - -<p><i>Lesca</i>, not a jot danted at his stearne words, presently she saide. <i>Pyrrhus</i>, -Both in this and all other Messages my Lady shall command me, I wil -speake to thee whensoever shee pleaseth, receive what discontent thou canst -thereby; or make presumption of what doubts thou maist devise. But as I -found thee a senselesse fellow, dull, and not shaped to any understanding, so I -leave thee: And in that anger parted from him, carrying backe the same -answer to her Lady. She no sooner heard it, but instantly shee wished -her selfe to be dead; and within some few dayes after, she conferred againe -with her Chamber-woman, saying. <i>Lesca</i>, thou knowest well enough, -that the Oxe falleth not at the first blow of the Axe, neither is -the victory won, upon a silly and shallow adventure: Wherefore, I -thinke it convenient, that once more thou shouldst make another tryall -of him, who (in prejudice to me) standeth so strictly on his loyalty, and -choosing such an houre as seemeth most commodious, soundly possesse -him with my tormenting passions. Bestirre thy Wittes, and tippe thy -tongue with a Womans eloquence, to effect what I so earnestly desire: -because, by languishing in this love-sicke affliction, it well bee the danger -of my death, and some severe detriment to him, to be the occasion -of so great a losse.</p> - -<p><i>Lesca</i>, comforted her Lady, so much as lay in her power to doe, and -having sought for <i>Pyrrhus</i>, whom she found at good leysure; and, in a -pleasing humor, thus she beganne. <i>Pyrrhus</i>, some few dayes since I tolde -thee, in what extreame Agonies thy Lady and mine was, onely in regarde -of her love to thee: and now againe I come once more, to give thee further -assurance thereof: Wherefore, beleeve it unfeignedly, that if thy obstinacie -continue still, in like manner as the other day it did, expect very shortly -to heare the tydings of her death.</p> - -<p>It is my part therefore, to entreat thee, to comfort her long languishing -desires: but if thou persist in thy harsh opinion, in stead of reputing thee a -wise and fortunate young man, I shall confesse thee to bee an ignoraunt Asse. -What a glorie is it to thee, to be affected of so faire and worthy a Lady, beyond -all men else whatsoever? Next to this, tell me, how highly maist thou -confesse thy selfe beholding to Fortune, if thou but duly consider, how shee -hath elected thee as sole soveraigne of her hopes, which is a crowne of honour -to thy youth, and a sufficient refuge against all wants and necessities? -Where is any to thy knowledge like thy selfe, that can make such advantage -of his time, as thou maist do, if thou wert wise? Where canst thou find any -one to go beyond thee in Armes, Horses, sumptuous garments, and Gold, as -will be heaped on thee, if <i>Lydia</i> may be the Lady of thy love? Open then -thine understanding to my words, returne into thine owne soule, and bee -wise for thy selfe.</p> - -<p>Remember (<i>Pyrrhus</i>) that Fortune presents her selfe but once before any -one, with cheerefull lookes, and her lappe wide open of richest favours, -where if choice be not quickely made, before she folde it up, and turn her -backe: let no complaint afterward be made of her, if the Fellow that had -so faire an offer, proove to be miserable, wretched, and a Beggar, only thorow -his owne negligence. Beside, what else hath formerly bin saide, there -is now no such neede of loyaltie in servants to their Ladies, as should be among -deare Friends and Kindred: but servants ought rather (as best they -may) be such to their Masters, as they are to them. Doest thou imagine, -that if thou hadst a faire Wife, Mother, Daughter, or Sister, pleasing in -the eye of our <i>Nicostratus</i>; he would stand on such nice tearmes of duty or -Loyaltie, as now thou doest to his Ladie? Thou wert a verie foole to rest -so perswaded. Assure thy selfe, that if entreaties and faire meanes might -not prevaile, force, and compulsion (whatsoever ensued thereon) woulde -winne the masterie. Let us then use them, and the commodities unto them -belonging, as they would us and ours. Use the benefit of thy Fortune, & -beware of abusing her favour. She yet smiles on thee; but take heede least -she turne her backe, it will then be over-late to repent thy folly. And if my -Ladie die through thy disdaine, be assured, that thou canst not escape with -life, beside open shame and disgrace for ever.</p> - -<p><i>Pyrrhus</i>, who had often considered on <i>Lescaes</i> first message, concluded -with himselfe; that if any more she moved the same matter: hee -would returne her another kinde of answere, wholly yeelding to content -his Lady; provided, that he might remaine assured, concerning the -intyre truth of the motion, and that it was not urged onely to trie him, -wherefore, thus he replyed. <i>Lesca</i>, do not imagine mee so ignorant, as -not to know the certaintie of all thy former allegations, confessing them as -freely as thou doest, or canst. But yet let mee tell thee withall, that I knowe -my Lord to be wise and judicious, and having committed all his affaires to -my care and trust: never blame mee to misdoubt; least my Ladie (by his -counsell and advice) make thee the messenger of this motion, thereby to call -my Fidelitie in question.</p> - -<p>To cleare which doubt, and for my further assurance of her well meaning -toward me; if she wil undertake the performance of three such things -as I must needes require in this case: I am afterward her owne, in any service -she can command me. The first of them, is, that in the presence of my -Lord and Master, she kill his faire Faulcon, which so dearly hee affecteth. -The second, to send me a locke or tuft of his beard, being puld away with -her owne hand. The third and last, with the same hand also, to pluck out -one of his best and soundest teeth, and send it mee as her loves true token. -When I finde all these three effectually performed, I am wholly hers, & not -before.</p> - -<p>These three strict impositions, seemed to <i>Lesca</i>, and her Ladie likewise, -almost beyond the compasse of all possibility. Nevertheles Love, -being a powerfull Oratour in perswading, as also adventurous even on -the most difficult dangers; gave her courage to undertake them all: sending -<i>Lesca</i> backe againe to him, with full assurance, of these more then -<i>Herculean</i> labours. Moreover, her selfe did intend to adde a fourth -taske, in regard of his strong opinion concerning the great Wisedome -of his Lord and Maister. After she had effected all the other three, she -would not permit him to kisse her, but before his Lords face: which -yet should be accomplished in such sort, as <i>Nicostratus</i> himselfe should -not beleeve it, although apparantly he saw it. Well, (quoth <i>Pyrrhus</i>) -when all these wonders are performed, assure my Ladie, that I am truelie -hers.</p> - -<p>Within a short while after, <i>Nicostratus</i> made a solemne Feastivall (according -as yearely he used to doe) in honour of his birth day, inviting -many Lords and Ladies thereto. On which rejoycing day, so soone as -dinner was ended, and the Tables withdrawne: <i>Lydia</i> came into the -great Hall, where the Feast was solemnly kept; very rich and costly apparrelled; -and there, in presence of <i>Pyrrhus</i>, and the whole assemblie, -going to the Perch whereon the Faulcone sate, wherein her Husband -tooke no little delight, and having untyed her, as if shee meant to beare -her on her Fist: tooke her by the Jesses, and beating her against the wal, -killed her. <i>Nicostratus</i> beholding this, called out aloud unto her, saying. -Alas Madame! what have you done? She making him no answere, -but turning to the Lords and Ladies, which had dined there, spake in -this manner.</p> - -<p>Ill should I take revenge on a King, that had offended me, if I had not so -much heart, as to wreake my spleene on a paltry Hawke. Understand then, -worthy Lords and Ladies, that this Faulcone hath long time robbed me of -those delights, which men (in meere equitie) ought to have with their -wives: because continually, so soone as breake of day hath appeared, my -Husband, starting out of bed, makes himselfe readie, presently to Horsse, -and with this Faulcon on his Fist, rides abroad to his recreation in the -Fields. And I, in such forsaken sort as you see, am left all alone in my bed, -discontented and despised: often vowing to my selfe, to bee thus revenged -as now I am, being with-held from it by no other occasion, but onely want -of a fit and apt time, to do it in the presence of such persons, as might bee -just Judges of my wrongs, and as I conceive you all to be.</p> - -<p>The Lords and Ladies hearing these words, and beleeving this deed -of hers to be done no otherwise, but out of her entire affection to <i>Nicostratus</i>, -according as her speeches sounded: compassionately turning towards -him (who was exceedingly displeased) and all smiling, said. Now -in good sadnesse Sir; Madame <i>Lydia</i> hath done well, in acting her just revenge -upon the Hawke, that bereft her of her Husbands kinde companie; -then which nothing is more precious to a loving wife, and a hell it is to live -without it. And <i>Lydia</i>, being sodainly withdrawne into her chamber; -with much other friendly and familiar talke, they converted the anger -of <i>Nicostratus</i> into mirth and smiling.</p> - -<p><i>Pyrrhus</i>, who had diligently observed the whole carriage of this businesse, -saide to himselfe. My Ladie hath begun well, and proceeding on -with no worse successe, will (no doubt) bring her love to an happy conclusion. -As for the Lady her selfe, she having thus kild the Hawke, it was -no long while after, but being in the Chamber with her husband, and -they conversing familiarly together: she began to jest with him, & hee -in the like manner with her, tickling and toying each the other, till at -the length she played with his beard, and now she found occasion aptly -serving, to effect the second taske imposed by <i>Pyrrhus</i>. So, taking -fast hold on a small tuft of his beard, she gave a sodaine snatch, and plucked -it away quite from his chin. Whereat <i>Nicostratus</i> beeing angerly -moved, she (to appease his distaste) pleasantly thus spake. How now my -Lord? Why do you looke so frowningly? What? Are you angry for a few -loose haires of your beard? How then should I take it, when you plucke mee -by the haire of my head, and yet I am not a jot discontented, because I know -you do it but in jesting manner? These friendly speeches cut off all further -contention, and she kepte charily the tuft of her Husbands beard, -which (the verie selfe-same day) shee sent to <i>Pyrrhus</i> her hearts chosen -friend.</p> - -<p>But now concerning the third matter to be adventured, it drove her -to a much more serious consideration, then those two which shee had -already so well and exactly performed. Notwithstanding, like a Ladie -of unconquerable spirit, and (in whom) Love enlarged his power more -and more: she sodainly conceited, what course was best to bee kept in -this case, forming her attempt in this manner. Upon <i>Nicostratus</i> wayted -two young Gentlemen, as Pages of his Chamber, whose Fathers -had given them to his service, to learne the manners of honourable -Courtship, and those qualities necessarily required in Gentlemen. One -of them, when <i>Nicostratus</i> sate downe to dinner or supper, stood in Office -of his Carver, delivering him all the meats whereon he fed. The -other (as Taster) attended on his Cup, and he dranke no other drinke, -but what hee brought him, and they both were highly pleasing unto -him.</p> - -<p>On a day, <i>Lydia</i> called these two youths aside; and, among some other -speeches, which served but as an induction to her intended policy; -she perswaded them, that their mouths yeelded an unsavoury & ill-pleasing -smell, whereof their Lord seemed to take dislike. Wherefore she -advised them, that at such times as they attended on him in their severall -places: they should (so much as possibly they could) withdraw their -heads aside from him, because their breath might not be noyous unto -him. But withall, to have an especiall care, of not disclosing to any one, -what she had told them; because (out of meere love) she had acquainted -them therewith: which very constantly they beleeved, and followed -the same direction as she had advised, being loath to displease, where -service bound them to obey. Choosing a time fitting for her purpose, -when <i>Nicostratus</i> was in private conference with her, thus she began. -Sir, you observe not the behaviour of your two pages, when they wait -on you at the Table? Yes but I do wife (quoth he) how squemishly they turn -their heads aside from me, and it hath often bin in my minde, to understand -a reason why they do so.</p> - -<p>Seating herselfe by him, as if shee had some weighty matter to tell -him; she proceeded in this manner. Alas my Lord, you shall not need to -question them, because I can sufficiently resolve you therein: which (neverthelesse) -I have long concealed, because I would not be offensive to you. -But in regard, it is now manifestly apparant, that others have tasted, what -(I immagined) none but my selfe did, I will no longer hide it from you. -Assuredly Sir, there is a most strange and unwonted ill-savour, continually -issuing from your mouth, smelling most noysomely, and I wonder what -should be the occasion. In former times, I never felt any such foule breathing -to come from you: and you, who do daily converse with so many worthy -persons, should seeke meanes to be rid of so great an annoyance. You say -verie true wife (answered <i>Nicostratus</i>) and I protest to you on my Credite, -I feele no such ill smell, neither know what should cause it, except I have som -corrupted tooth in my mouth. Perhaps Sir (quoth she) it may be so, and -yet you feele not the savour which others do, yea, very offensively.</p> - -<p>So, walking with her to a Window, he opened wide his mouth, the -which nicely shee surveyed on either side, and, turning her head from -him, as seeming unable to endure the savour: starting, and shrieking out -alowd, she said. Santa Maria! What a sight is this? Alas my good Lord, -How could you abide this, and for so long a while? Heere is a tooth on this -side, which (so farre as I can perceive) is not onely hollow and corrupted: -but also wholly putrified and rotten, and if it continue still in your head, beleeve -it for a truth, that it will infect and spoile all the rest neere it. I would -therefore counsell you, to let it be pluckt out, before it breede your further -danger. I like your counsell well <i>Lydia</i>, replyed <i>Nicostratus</i>, and presently -intend to follow it; Let therefore my Barber be sent for, and, without -any longer delay, he shall plucke it forth instantly.</p> - -<p>How Sir? (quoth she,) your Barber? Uppon mine Honour, there shall -come no Barber heere. Why Sir, it is such a rotten Tooth, and standeth -so fairely for my hand: that, without helpe or advice of any Barber, let mee -alone for plucking it forth, without putting you to any paine at all. Moreover, -let me tell you Sir, those Tooth-drawers are so rude and cruell, in performing -such Offices, as my heart cannot endure, that you should come -within compasse of their currish courtesie, neither shall you Sir, if you will -be ruled by me. If I should faile in the manner of their facilitie, yet love & -duty hath enstructed me, to forbeare your least paining, which no unmannerly -Barber will do.</p> - -<p>Having thus spoken, and he well contented with her kinde offer, the -instruments were brought, which are used in such occasions, all being -commanded forth of the Chamber, but onely <i>Lesca</i>, who evermore -kept still in her company. So, locking fast the doore, and <i>Nicostratus</i> -being seated, as she thought fittest for her purpose, she put the Tanacles -into his mouth, catching fast hold on one of his soundest teeth: which, -notwithstanding his loud crying, <i>Lesca</i> held him so strongly, that forth -she pluckt it, and hid it, having another tooth readie made hot & bloody, -very much corrupted and rotten, which she helde in the Tanacles, -and shewed to him, who was well-neere halfe dead with anguish. See -Sir (quoth she) was this Tooth to be suffered in your head, and to yeeld so -foule a smell as it did? He verily beleeving what she said, albeit hee had -endured extreame paine, and still complained on her harsh and violent -pulling it out: rejoyced yet, that he was now ridde of it, and she comforting -him on the one side, and the anguish asswaging him on the other, -he departed forth of the Chamber.</p> - -<p>In the mean while, by <i>Lesca</i> she sent the sound tooth to <i>Pyrrhus</i>, who -(wondering not a little at her so many strange attempts; which hee urged -so much the rather, as thinking their performance impossible, and, -in meere loyall duty to his Lord) seeing them all three to be notably effected; -he made no further doubt of her intire love towardes him, but -sent her assurance likewise, of his readinesse and serviceable diligence, -whensoever she would command him.</p> - -<p>Now, after the passage of all these adventures, hardly to bee undertaken -by any other Woman: yet she held them insufficient for his security, -in the grounded perswasion of her love to him, except shee performed -another of her owne, and according as shee had boldly promised. -Houres do now seeme dayes, and dayes multiplicitie of yeeres, till the -kisse may be given, and receyved in the presence of <i>Nicostratus</i>, yet hee -himselfe to avouch the contrary.</p> - -<p>Madam <i>Lydia</i> (upon a pretended sicknesse) keepeth her chamber, and -as women can hardly be exceeded in dissimulation: so, shee wanted no -wit, to seeme exquisitely cunning, in all the outwarde apparances of -sicknesse. One day after dinner, shee being visited by <i>Nicostratus</i>, and -none attending on him but <i>Pyrrhus</i> onely: she earnestly entreated, that -as a mitigation, to some inward afflictions which she felt, they would -helpe to guide her into the Garden.</p> - -<p>Most gladly was her motion graunted, and <i>Nicostratus</i> gently taking -her by one arme, and <i>Pyrrhus</i> by the other, so they conducted her into -the Garden, seating her in a faire floury Grasse-plot, with her backe -leaning to a Peare-tree. Having sitten there an indifferent while, and -<i>Pyrrhus</i>, being formerly enstructed, in the directions which she had given -him, thus shee spake, some-what faintly. <i>Pyrrhus</i>, I have a kinde of -longing desire upon a sodaine, to taste of these Peares: Wherefore, climbe -up into the Tree, and cast me downe one or two; which instantly hee did. -Being aloft in the Tree, and throwing downe some of the best and ripest -Peares; at length (according to his premeditated Lesson) looking -downe, he said.</p> - -<p>Forbeare my Lord, Do you not see, in how weake and feeble condition -my Ladie is, being shaken with so violent a sicknesse? And you Madam, -how kinde and loving soever you are to my Lord, Are you so little carefull -of your health, being but now come forth of your sicke Chamber, to be ruffled -and tumbled in such rough manner? Though such dalliances are not -amisse in you both; being fitter for the private Chamber, then an open garden, -and in the presence of a servant: yet time and place should alwaies bee -respectively considered, for the avoiding of ill example, and better testimonie -of your owne Wisedomes, which ever should be like your selves. But -if so soone, and even in the heate of a yet turbulent sickenesse, your equall -love can admit these kisses and embraces: your private Lodginges were -much more convenient, where no Servants eye can see such Wantonnesse, -nor you be reproved of indiscretion, for being too publique in your Familiaritie.</p> - -<p>Madame <i>Lydia</i>, sodainely starting, and turning unto her Husband, -sayde. What doth <i>Pyrrhus</i> prate? Is he well in his wittes? Or is he franticke? -No Madame, replyed <i>Pyrrhus</i>, I am not franticke. Are you so fond -as to thinke that I do not see your folly? <i>Nicostratus</i> wondering at his -Words, presently answered. Now trust me <i>Pyrrhus</i>, I think thou dreamest. -No my Lord, replyed <i>Pyrrhus</i>, I dreame not a jot, neither do you, -or my Ladie: but if this Tree could affoord the like kindnesse to me, as you -do to her, there would not a Peare bee left uppon it. How now <i>Pyrrhus</i>? -(quoth <i>Lydia</i>) this language goeth beyond our understanding, it seemeth -thou knowest not what thou saist. Beleeve me husband, if I were as well as -ever I have bin, I would climb this tree, to see those idle wonders which hee -talketh of: for, while he continueth thus above, it appeareth, hee can finde -no other prattle, albeit he taketh his marke amisse.</p> - -<p>Heereupon, he commanded <i>Pyrrhus</i> to come downe, and being on -the ground: Now <i>Pyrrhus</i> (quoth he) tell me what thou saydst. <i>Pyrrhus</i>, -pretending an alteration into much amazement, straungely looking about -him, saide; I know not verie well (my Lord) what answere I should -make you, fearing least my sight hath bin abused by error: for when I was -aloft in that Tree, it seemed manifestly to me: that you embraced my Lady -(though somewhat rudely, in regard of her perillous sicknesse, yet lovingly) -and as youthfully as in your younger daies, with infinite kisses, and wanton -dalliances, such as (indeede) deserved a far more private place in my poore -opinion. But in my descending downe, mee thought you gave over that amorous -familiaritie, and I found you seated as I left you. Now trust mee -<i>Pyrrhus</i>, answered <i>Nicostratus</i>, Thy tongue and wit have very strangely -wandred, both from reason and all reall apprehension: because we never stirred -from hence, since thou didst climbe up into the Tree, neither mooved otherwise, -then as now thou seest us. Alas my Lord (saide <i>Pyrrhus</i>) I humbly -crave pardon for my presumption, in reprooving you for meddling with -your owne: which shal make me hereafter better advised, in any thing what -soever I heare or see.</p> - -<p>Mervaile and amazement, encreased in <i>Nicostratus</i> far greater then -before, hearing him to avouch still so constantly what he had seene, no -contradiction being able to alter him, which made him rashly sweare -and say. I will see my selfe, whether this Peare-tree bee enchanted, or no: -and such wonders to be seene when a man is up in it, as thou wouldst have -us to beleeve. And being mounted up so hy, that they were safe from his -sodaine comming on them, <i>Lydia</i> had soone forgotten her sicknes, and -the promised kisse cost her above twenty more, beside verie kinde and -hearty embraces, as lovingly respected and entertained by <i>Pyrrhus</i>. -Which <i>Nicostratus</i> beholding aloft in the tree; cryed out to her, saying. -Wicked woman, What doest thou meane? And thou villain <i>Pyrrhus</i>, -Darst thou abuse thy Lord, who hath reposed so much trust in thee? So, -descending in haste downe againe, yet crying so to them still: <i>Lydia</i> -replyed, Alas my Lord, Why do you raile and rave in such sort? So, hee -found her seated as before, and <i>Pyrrhus</i> waiting with dutifull reverence, -even as when he climbed up the Tree: but yet he thought his sight not -deceyved, for all their demure and formall behaviour, which made -him walke up and downe, extreamely fuming and fretting unto himselfe, -and which in some milder manner to qualifie, <i>Pyrrhus</i> spake thus -to him.</p> - -<p>I deny not (my good Lord) but freely confesse, that even as your selfe, so -I, being above in the Tree, had my sight most falsely deluded: which is so -apparantly confirmed by you, and in the same sort, as there needeth no -doubt of both our beguiling; in one and the same suspitious nature. In which -case to be the more assuredly resolved, nothing can be questioned, but whether -your beleefe do so farre misleade you, as to thinke, that my Ladie (who -hath alwayes bene most wise, loyall, and vertuous,) would so shamefullie -wrong you: yea, and to performe it before your face, wherein I dare gadge -my life to the contrary. Concerning my selfe, it is not fit for mee, to argue -or contest in mine owne commendation: you that have ever knowne the sincerity -of my service, are best able to speake in my behalfe: and rather wold -I be drawne in peeces with foure wilde horses, then bee such an injurious -slave to my Lord and Master.</p> - -<p>Now then, it can be no otherwise, but we must needs rest certainly perswaded, -that the guile and offence of this false appearance, was occasioned -by thee onely. For all the world could not make me otherwise beleeve, but -that I saw you kisse and most kindely imbrace my Lady: if your owne -eyes had not credited the like behaviour in me to her, of which sinne, I never -conceived so much as a thought. The Lady (on the other side) seeming -to be very angerly incensed, starting faintly upon her feet, yet supporting -her selfe by the tree, said. It appeareth Sir, that you have entertained -a goodly opinion of me as, if I were so lewde and lasciviously disposed, -or addicted to the very least desire of wantonnesse: that I would bee so -forgetfull of mine owne honour, as to adventure it in your sight, and with -a servant of my house? Oh Sir, such women as are so familiarly affected, -need learne no wit of men in amourous matters; their private Chambers -shall be better trusted, then an open blabing and tell-tale Garden.</p> - -<p><i>Nicostratus</i>, who verily beleeved what they had both said, and that -neither of them would adventure such familiarity before his face: would -talke no more of the matter, but rather studyed of the rarity of such a -miracle, not seene, but in the height of the tree, and changing againe upon -the descent. But <i>Lydia</i>, containing still her colourable kinde of impatience, -and angerly frowning upon <i>Nicostratus</i>, stearnely saide. If I -may have my will, this villanous and deceiving tree, shall never more shame -me, or any other woman: and therefore <i>Pyrrhus</i>, runne for an Axe, and -by felling it to the ground, in an instant, revenge both thy wrong and mine. -Doest not thou serve a worthy Lord? And have not I a wise Husband, who, -without any consideration, will suffer the eye of his understanding to be so -dazeled, with a foolish imagination beyond all possibility? For, although his -eyes did apprehend such a folly, and it seemed to be a truth indeed: yet, in the -depth of setled judgement, all the world should not perswade him, that it -was so.</p> - -<p><i>Pyrrhus</i> had quickely brought the Axe, and hewing downe the tree, -so soone as the Lady saw it fall; turning her selfe to <i>Nicostratus</i>, she said. -Now that I have seene mine honour and honesties enemy laid along; mine anger -is past, and Husband, I freely pardon you: intreating you heartily henceforward, -not to presume or imagine, that my love eyther is, or can bee altred -from you.</p> - -<p>Thus the mocked and derided <i>Nicostratus</i>, returned in againe with his -Lady and <i>Pyrrhus</i>; where perhaps (although the Peare-tree was cut -downe) they could find as cunning meanes to over-reach him.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Two_Citizens_of_Siena_the_one_named_Tingoccio_Mini_the_other_Meucio" id="Two_Citizens_of_Siena_the_one_named_Tingoccio_Mini_the_other_Meucio"><i>Two Citizens of</i> Siena, <i>the one named</i> Tingoccio Mini, <i>& the other</i> Meucio -di Tora, <i>affected both one woman, called</i> Monna Mita, <i>to whom the one of -them was a Gossip. The Gossip dyed, and appeared afterward to his companion, -according as he had formerly promised him to doe, and tolde him -what strange wonders he had seene in the other world.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Tenth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein such men are covertly reprehended, who make no care or conscience -at all of those things that should preserve them from sinne.</i></h4> - - -<p>Now there remained none but the King himselfe, last of all to recount -his Novell; who, after hee heard the Ladies complaints -indifferently pacified, for the rash felling downe of such a precious -Peare-tree; thus he began. Faire Ladies, it is a case more then manifest, -that every King, who will be accounted just and upright: should first -of all, and rather then any other, observe those Lawes which he himselfe hath -made; otherwise he ought to be reputed as a servant, worthy of punishment, -and no King. Into which fault and reprehension, I your King, shall well neere -be constrained to fall; for yesterday I enacted a Law, upon the forme of our -discoursing, with full intent, that this day I would not use any part of my priviledge; -but being subject (as you all are) to the same Law, I should speake of -that argument, which already you have done.</p> - -<p>Wherein, you have not onely performed more then I could wish, upon a subject -so sutable to my minde: but in every Novell, such variety of excellent -matter, such singular illustrations, and delicate eloquence hath flowne from -you all; as I am utterly unable to invent any thing (notwithstanding the most -curious search of my braine) apt or fit for the purpose, to paragon the meanest -of them already related. And therefore seeing I must needs sinne in the Law -established by my selfe; I tender my submission, as worthy of punishment, or -what amends else you please to enjoyne mee. Now, as returned to my wonted -priviledge, I say, that the Novell recounted by Madame <i>Eliza</i>, of the Fryar -Godfather and his Gossip <i>Agnesia</i>, as also the sottishnesse of the <i>Senese</i> her -Husband, hath wrought in me (worthy Ladies) to such effect; as, forbearing -to speake any more of these wily prancks, which witty wives exercise on their -simple Husbands; I am to tell you a pretty short Tale; which, though there is -matter enough in it, not worthy the crediting, yet partly it will bee pleasing to -heare.</p> - -<p>Sometime there lived in <i>Sienna</i> two popular men; the one being named -<i>Tingoccio Mini</i> and the other <i>Meucio de Tora</i>; Men simple, and of -no understanding, both of them dwelling in <i>Porta Salaia</i>. These two men -lived in such familiar conversation together, and expressed such cordiall -affection each to other, as they seldome walked asunder; but (as honest -men use to doe) frequented Churches and Sermons, oftentimes hearing, -both what miseries and beatitudes were in the world to come, according -to the merits of their soules that were departed out of this life, -and found their equall repaiment in the other. The manifold repetition -of these matters, made them very earnestly desirous to know, by what -meanes they might have tydings from thence, for their further confirmation. -And finding all their endeavours utterly frustrated, they made -a solemne vow and promise (each to other under oath) that hee which -first dyed of them two, should returne backe againe (so soone as possibly -he could) to the other remaining alive, and tell him such tydings as hee -desired to heare.</p> - -<p>After the promise was thus faithfully made, and they still keeping -company, as they were wont to doe: It fortuned, that <i>Tingoccio</i> became -Gossip to one, named <i>Ambrosito Anselmino</i>, dwelling in <i>Camporeggio</i>, -who by his wife, called <i>Monna Mita</i>, had a sweet and lovely Sonne. <i>Tingoccio</i> -often resorting thither, and consorted with his companion <i>Meucio</i>; -the she-Gossip, being a woman worthy the loving, faire and comely of -her person: <i>Tingoccio</i>, notwithstanding the Gossipship betweene them, -had more then a moneths minde to his Godchilds Mother. <i>Meucio</i> also -fell sicke of the same disease, because shee seemed pleasing in his eye, -and <i>Tingoccio</i> gave her no meane commendations; yet, carefully they -concealed their love to themselves, but not for one & the same occasion. -Because <i>Tingoccio</i> kept it closely from <i>Meucio</i>, lest he should hold it disgracefull -in him, to beare amourous affection to his Gossip, and thought -it unfitting to bee knowne. But <i>Meucio</i> had no such meaning, for hee -knew well enough that <i>Tingoccio</i> loved her, and therefore conceived in -his minde, that if he discovered any such matter to him: He will (quoth -he) be jealous of me, and being her Gossip, which admitteth his conference -with her when himselfe pleaseth; he may easily make her to distaste -me, and therefore I must rest contented as I am.</p> - -<p>Their love continuing on still in this kinde, <i>Tingoccio</i> prooved so fortunate -in the businesse, that having better meanes then his companion, -and more prevayling courses, when, where, and how to Court his Mistresse, -which seemed to forward him effectually. All which <i>Meucio</i> -plainely perceived, and though it was tedious and wearisome to him, -yet hoping to finde some successe at length: he would not take notice of -any thing, as fearing to infringe the amity betweene him and <i>Tingoccio</i>, -and so his hope to be quite supplanted. Thus the one triumphing in his -loves happinesse, and the other hoping for his felicity to come; a lingering -sickenesse seazed on <i>Tingoccio</i>, which brought him to so low a condition, as -at the length he dyed.</p> - -<p>About some three or foure nights after, <i>Meucio</i> being fast asleepe in -his bed, the ghoste of <i>Tingoccio</i> appeared to him, and called so loude, that -<i>Meucio</i> awaking, demanded who called him? I am thy friend <i>Tingoccio</i>, -replied the ghoste, who according to my former promise made, am come -again in vision to thee, to tell thee tidings out of the nether world. <i>Meucio</i> -was a while somewhat amazed; but, recollecting his more manly -spirits together, boldly he said. My brother and friend, thou art heartily -welcome: but I thought thou hadst beene utterly lost. Those things (quoth -<i>Tingoccio</i>) are lost, which cannot be recovered againe, and if I were lost, -how could I then be heere with thee? Alas <i>Tingoccio</i>, replyed <i>Meucio</i>, my -meaning is not so: but I would be resolved, whether thou art among the -damned soules, in the painefull fire of hell torments, or no? No (quoth -<i>Tingoccio</i>) I am not sent thither, but for divers sinnes by mee committed -I am to suffer very great and grievous paines. Then <i>Meucio</i> demaunded -particularly, the punishments inflicted there, for the severall sinnes committed -heere: Wherein <i>Tingoccio</i> fully resolved him. And upon further -question, what hee would have to be done for him here, made answere, -That <i>Meucio</i> should cause Masses, Prayers and Almes deeds to -be performed for him, which (he said) were very helpefull to the soules -abiding there, and <i>Meucio</i> promised to see them done.</p> - -<p>As the ghost was offering to depart, <i>Meucio</i> remembred <i>Tingoccioes</i> -Gossip <i>Monna Mita</i>, and raysing himselfe higher upon his pillowe, said. -My memorie informeth me, friend <i>Tingoccio</i>, of your kinde Gossip <i>Monna -Mita</i>, with whom (when you remained in this life) I knew you to be very -familiar: let me intreat you then to tell me, what punishment is inflicted -on you there, for that wanton sinne committed heere? Oh Brother <i>Meucio</i>, -answered <i>Tingoccio</i>, so soone as my soule was landed there, one came immediately -to me, who seemed to know all mine offences readily by heart, and -forthwith commanded, that I should depart thence into a certaine place, -where I must weepe for my sinnes in very grievous paines. There I found -more of my companions, condemned to the same punishment as I was, and -being among them, I called to minde some wanton dalliances, which had -passed betweene my Gossip and me, and expecting therefore farre greater afflictions, -then as yet I felt (although I was in a huge fire, and exceedingly -hot) yet with conceite of feare, I quaked and trembled wondrously.</p> - -<p>One of my other Consorts being by me, and perceiving in what an extreame -agony I was; presently said unto me. My friend, what hast thou -done more, then any of us here condemned with thee, that thou tremblest -and quakest, being in so hot a fire? Oh my friend (quoth I) I am in feare -of a greater judgement then this, for a grievous offence by mee heretofore -committed while I lived. Then hee demaunded of mee what offence it -was, whereto thus I answered. It was my chance in the other world, to -be Godfather at a childs Christning, and afterward I grew so affectionate to -the childs mother, as (indeed) I kissed her twice or thrise. My companyon -laughing at me in mocking manner, replyed thus. Goe like an Asse as thou -art, and be no more affraid hereafter, for here is no punishment inflicted, in -any kinde whatsoever, for such offences of frailty committed, especially with -Gossips, as I my selfe can witnesse.</p> - -<p>Now day drew on, and the Cockes began to crow, a dreadfull hearing -to walking spirits, when <i>Tingoccio</i> said to <i>Meucio</i>. Farewell my -friendly companion, for I may tarry no longer with thee, and instantly hee -vanished away. <i>Meucio</i> having heard this confession of his friend, and -verily beleeving it for a truth, that no punishment was to be inflicted in -the future world, for offences of frailty in this life, and chiefly with -Gossips: began to condemne his owne folly, having bin a Gossip to -many wives, yet modesty restrained him from such familiar offending. -And therefore being sorry for this grosse ignorance, hee made a vowe -to be wiser hereafter. And if Fryar <i>Reynard</i> had been acquainted with -this kind of shrift (as doubtlesse he was, though his Gossip <i>Agnesia</i> knew -it not) he needed no such Syllogismes, as he put in practise, when he converted -her to his lustfull knavery, in the comparison of kinred by him -moved, concerning her husband, the childe and himselfe. But, these are -the best fruits of such Fryerly Confessions, to compasse the issue of their -inordinate appetites; yet clouded with the cloake of Religion, which -hath beene the overthrow of too many.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>By this time the gentle blast of <i>Zephirus</i> began to blow, because the -Sunne grew neere his setting, wherewith the King concluded his Novell, -and none remaining more to be thus imployed: taking the Crowne -from off his owne head, he placed it on Madame <i>Laurettaes</i>, saying, Madame, -I Crowne you with your owne Crowne, as Queene of our Company. -You shall henceforth command as Lady and Mistresse, in such occasions as -shall be to your liking, and for the contentment of us all; With which -words he set him downe. And Madame <i>Lauretta</i> being now created -Queene, shee caused the Master of the houshold to bee called, to whom -she gave command, that the Tables should be prepared in the pleasant -vally, but at a more convenient houre, then formerly had beene, because -they might (with better ease) returne backe to the Pallace. Then shee -tooke order likewise, for all such other necessary matters, as should bee -required in the time of her Regiment: and then turning her selfe to the -whole Company, she began in this manner.</p> - -<p>It was the Will of <i>Dioneus</i> yesternight, that our discourses for this day, -should concerne the deceits of wives to their Husbands. And were it not -to avoyde taxation, of a spleenitive desire to be revenged, like the dog being -bitten, biteth againe: I could command our to morrows conference, to touch -mens treacheries towards their wives. But because I am free from any such -fiery humor, let it be your generall consideration, to speake of such queint beguylings, -as have heretofore past, either of the woman to the man, the man -to the woman, or of one man to another: and I am of opinion, that they will -yeeld us no lesse delight, then those related (this day) have done. When she -had thus spoken, she rose; granting them all liberty, to goe recreate themselves -untill Supper time.</p> - -<p>The Ladies being thus at their owne disposing, some of them bared -their legges and feete, to wash them in the coole current. Others, not so -minded, walked on the greene grasse, and under the goodly spreading -trees. <i>Dioneus</i> and Madame <i>Fiammetta</i>, they sate singing together, -the love-warre betweene <i>Arcit</i> and <i>Palemon</i>. And thus with diversity -of disports, in choice delight and much contentment, all were imployed, -till Supper drew neere. When the houre was come, and the Tables -covered by the Ponds side: we need not question their dyet and dainties, -infinite Birds sweetly singing about them, as no musicke in the world -could be more pleasing; beside calme windes, fanning their faces from -the neighbouring hilles (free from flyes, or the least annoyance) made a -delicate addition to their pleasure.</p> - -<p>No sooner were the Tables withdrawne, and all risen: but they -fetcht a few turnings about the vally, because the Sunne was not (as yet) -quite set. Then in the coole evening, according to the Queenes appointment: -in a soft and gentle pace, they walked homeward: devising -on a thousand occasions, as well those which the dayes discourses had -yeelded, as others of their owne inventing beside. It was almost darke -night, before they arrived at the Pallace; where, with variety of choice -Wines, and abounding plenty of rare Banquetting, they out-wore the -little toile and wearinesse, which the long walke had charged them withall. -Afterward, according to their wonted order, the Instruments being -brought and played on, they fell to dancing about the faire Fountaine; -<i>Tindaro</i> intruding (now and then) the sound of his Bagpipe, to make the -musicke seeme more melodious. But in the end, the Queene commanded -Madame <i>Philomena</i> to sing; whereupon the Instruments being tuned -fit for the purpose, thus she began.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Song.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Chorus Sung by the whole Company.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i7">Wearisome is my life to me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because I cannot once againe returne;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unto the place which made me first to mourne.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Nothing I know, yet feele a powerfull fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Burning within my brest,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Through deepe desire;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To be once more where first I felt unrest,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Which cannot be exprest.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O my sole good! O my best happinesse!<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Why am I thus restrainde?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is there no comfort in this wretchednesse?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then let me live content, to be thus painde.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Wearisome is my life to me, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">I cannot tell what was that rare delight,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Which first enflamde my soule,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">And gave command in spight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That I should find no ease by day or night,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">But still live in controule.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I see, I heare, and feele a kinde of blisse,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Yet find no forme at all:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Other in their desire, finde blessednesse,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I have none, nor thinke I ever shall.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Wearisome is my life to me, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Tell me if I may hope in following dayes,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">To have but one poore sight,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Of those bright Sunny rayes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dazeling my sence, did o'recome me quite,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Bequeath'd to wandring wayes.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If I be posted off and may not prove.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">To have the smallest grace:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or but to know, that this proceeds from love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why should I live despisde in every place?<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Wearisome is my life to me, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Me thinkes milde favour whispers in mine eare,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">And bids me not despaire;<br /></span> -<span class="i7">There will a time appeare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To quell and quite confound consuming care,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">And joy surmount proud feare.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In hope that gracious time will come at length,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">To cheare my long dismay:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My spirits reassume your former strength,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And never dread to see that joyfull day.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Wearisome is my life to me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because I cannot once againe returne;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unto the place which made me first to mourne.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>This Song gave occasion to the whole Company, to imagine, that -some new and pleasing apprehension of Love, constrained Madame -<i>Philomena</i> to sing in this manner. And because (by the discourse thereof) -it plainely appeared, that shee had felt more then shee saw, shee was so -much the more happy, and the like was wished by all the rest. Wherefore, -after the Song was ended; the Queene remembring, that the next -day following was Friday, turning her selfe graciously to them all, thus -she spake.</p> - -<p>You know noble Ladies, and you likewise most noble Gentlemen, that to -morrow is the day consecrated to the Passion of our blessed Lord and Saviour, -which (if you have not forgotten it, as easily you cannot) we devoutly -celebrated, Madame <i>Neiphila</i> being then Queene, ceasing from all our -pleasant discoursing, as we did the like on the Saturday following, sanctifying -the sacred Sabboth, in due regard of it selfe. Wherefore, being desirous -to imitate precedent good example, which in worthy manner shee began to -us all: I hold it very decent and necessary, that we should asttaine to morrow, -and the day ensuing, from recounting any of our pleasant Novels, reducing -to our memories, what was done (as on those dayes) for the salvation -of our soules. This holy and Religious motion made by the Queene, -was commendably allowed by all the assembly, and therefore, humbly -taking their leave of her, and an indifferent part of the night -being already spent; severally they betooke themselves to their Chambers.</p> - - -<h4><i>The end of the Seaventh day.</i></h4> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="THE_EIGHT_DAY" id="THE_EIGHT_DAY">THE -EIGHT DAY.</a></h2> - -<h4>Whereon all the Discourses, passe -under the Rule and Government, of the Honourable -Ladie <span class="smcap">Lauretta</span>. And the Argument -imposed, is, Concerning such Wittie deceyvings; -as have, or may be put in practise, by Wives -to their Husbands; Husbands to their Wives: Or -one man towards another.</h4> - -<h4>The Induction.</h4> - - -<p>Earely on the Sonday Morning, -<i>Aurora</i> shewing her selfe bright and -lovely; the Sunnes Golden beames -beganne to appeare, on the toppes of -the neere adjoyning Mountaines; so, -that Hearbes, Plants, Trees, and all -things else, were verie evidently to be -discerned. The Queene and her Companie, being all -come foorth of their Chambers, and having walked a -while abroad, in the goodly greene Meadowes, to taste -the sweetnesse of the fresh and wholesome ayre, they returned -backe againe into the Palace, because it was their -dutie so to do.</p> - -<p>Afterward, betweene the houres of seaven and eight, -they went to heare Masse, in a faire Chappell neere at -hand, and thence returned to their Lodgings. When -they had dined merrily together, they fell to their wonted -singing and dauncing: Which beeing done, such as -were so pleased (by License of the Queene first obtained) -went either to their rest, or such exercises as they tooke -most delight in. When midday, and the heate thereof -was well over-past, so that the aire seemed mild and temperate: -according as the Queene had commanded; they -were all seated againe about the Fountaine, with intent -to prosecute their former pastime. And then Madame -<i>Neiphila</i>, by the charge imposed on her, as first -speaker for this day, beganne as -followeth.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Gulfardo_made_a_match_or_wager_with_the_Wife_of_Gasparuolo_for_the" id="Gulfardo_made_a_match_or_wager_with_the_Wife_of_Gasparuolo_for_the">Gulfardo <i>made a match or wager, with the Wife of</i> Gasparuolo, <i>for the -obtaining of her amorous favour, in regard of a summe of money first to -be given her. The money hee borrowed of her Husband, and gave it in -payment to her, as in case of discharging him from her Husbands debt. -After his returne home from</i> Geneway, <i>hee told him in the presence of -his wife, how he had payde the whole summe to her, with charge of delivering -it to her Husband, which she confessed to be true, albeit greatly -against her will.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The First Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is declared, that such women as will make sale of their honestie, -are sometimes over-reached in their payment, and justly served as they -should be.</i></h4> - - -<p>Seeing it is my fortune, Gracious Ladies, that I must give beginning -to this dayes discoursing, by some such Novel which -I thinke expedient; as duty bindeth me, I am therewith well -contented. And because the deceits of Women to men, have beene at -large and liberally related; I will tell you a subtile tricke of a man to a -Woman. Not that I blame him for the deede, or thinke the deceyte -not well fitted to the woman: but I speake it in a contrarie nature, as -commending the man, and condemning the woman very justly, as also -to shew, how men can as well beguile those crafty companions, which -least beleeve any such cunning in them, as they that stand most on their -artificiall skill.</p> - -<p>Howbeit, to speake more properly, the matter by me to be reported, -deserveth not the reproachfull title of deceite, but rather of a recompence -duly returned: because women ought to be chaste and honest, & -to preserve their honour as their lives, without yeelding to the contamination -thereof, for any occasion whatsoever. And yet (neverthelesse, -in regard of our frailty) many times we proove not so constant as -we should be: yet I am of opinion, that she which selleth her honestie -for money, deserveth justly to be burned. Whereas on the contrary, -she that falleth into the offence, onely through intire affection (the powerfull -lawes of Love beeing above all resistance) in equity meriteth -pardon, especially of a Judge not over-rigorous: as not long since wee -heard from <i>Philostratus</i>, in revealing what hapned to Madam <i>Phillippa -de Prato</i>, upon the dangerous Edict.</p> - -<p>Understand then, my most worthy Auditors, that there lived sometime -in <i>Millaine</i> an <i>Almaigne</i> Soldiour, named <i>Gulfardo</i>, of commendable -carriage in his person, and very faithfull to such as he served, a -matter not common among the <i>Almaignes</i>. And because he made just -repayment, to every one which lent him monies; he grew to such especiall -credit, and was so familiar with the very best Marchants; as (manie -times) he could not be so ready to borrow, as they were willing alwaies -to lend him. He thus continuing in the Cittie of <i>Millaine</i>, fastened his -affection on a verie beautifull Gentlewoman, named Mistresse <i>Ambrosia</i>, -Wife unto a rich Merchant, who was called Signior <i>Gasparuolo Sagastraccio</i>, -who had good knowledge of him, and respectively used him. -Loving this Gentlewoman with great discretion, without the least apprehension -of her husband: he sent upon a day to entreate conference -with her, for enjoying the fruition of her love, and she should find him -ready to fulfill whatsoever she pleased to command him, as, at any time -he would make good his promise.</p> - -<p>The Gentlewoman, after divers of these private solicitings, resolutely -answered, that she was as ready to fulfill the request of <i>Gulfardo</i>, provided, -that two especiall considerations might ensue thereon. First, the -faithfull concealing thereof from any person living. Next, because she -knew him to be rich, and she had occasion to use two hundred Crowns, -about businesse of important consequence: he should freely bestow so -many on her, and (ever after) she was to be commanded by him. <i>Gulfardo</i> -perceiving the covetousnesse of this woman, who (notwithstanding -his doting affection) he thought to be intirely honest to her Husband: -became so deepely offended at her vile answere, that his fervent -love converted into as earnest loathing her; determining constantlie to -deceive her, and to make her avaritious motion, the only means whereby -to effect it.</p> - -<p>He sent her word, that he was willing to performe her request, or any -farre greater matter for her: in which respect, he onely desired for to -know, when she would be pleased to have him come see her, and to receive -the money of him? No creature hee acquainted with his setled -purpose, but onely a deere friend and kinde companion, who alwayes -used to keepe him company, in the neerest occasions that concerned -him. The Gentlewoman, or rather most disloyall wife, uppon this answer -sent her, was extraordinarily jocond and contented, returning him -a secret Letter, wherein she signified: that <i>Gasparuolo</i> her husband, had -important affaires which called him to <i>Geneway</i>: but he should understand -of his departure, and then (with safety) he might come see her, as -also his bringing of the Crownes.</p> - -<p>In the meane while, <i>Gulfardo</i> having determined what he would do, -watched a convenient time, when he went unto <i>Gasparuolo</i>, and sayde: -Sir, I have some businesse of maine importance, and shall neede to use but -two hundred Crownes onely: I desire you to lend me so many Crownes, upon -such profite as you were wont to take of mee, at other times when I have -made use of you, and I shall not faile you at my day.</p> - -<p><i>Gasparuolo</i> was well contented with the motion, and made no more -adoe, but counted downe the Crownes: departing thence (within few -dayes after) for <i>Geneway</i>, acording to his Wives former message; she giving -<i>Gulfardo</i> also intelligence of his absence, that now (with safety) hee -might come see her, and bring the two hundred Crownes with him.</p> - -<p><i>Gulfardo</i>, taking his friend in his company, went to visite Mistresse -<i>Ambrosia</i>, whom he found in expectation of his arrivall, and the first -thing he did, he counted downe the two hundred Crownes; and delivering -them to her in the presence of his friend, saide: Mistresse <i>Ambrosia</i>, -receive these two hundred Crownes, which I desire you to pay unto your -Husband on my behalfe, when he is returned from <i>Geneway. Ambrosia</i>, -receyved the two hundred Crownes, not regarding wherefore <i>Gulfardo</i> -used these words: because shee verily beleeved, that hee spake in -such manner, because his friend should take no notice, of his giving -them to her, upon any covenant passed betweene them; whereuppon, -she sayde. Sir, I will pay them to my Husband for you; and cause him to -give you a sufficient discharge: but first I will count them over my selfe, to -see whether the summe be just, or no. And having drawne them over upon -the Table, the summe containing truly two hundred Crownes (wherewith -she was most highly contented) she lockt them safe uppe in her Cuppe-boord, -and <i>Gulfardoes</i> Friend being gone (as formerly it was compacted -betweene them) shee came to converse more familiarly with him, -having provided a banquet for him. What passed between them afterward, -both then, and oftentimes beside, before her Husbande returned -home, is a matter out of my element, and rather requires my ignorance -then knowledge.</p> - -<p>When <i>Gasparuolo</i> was come from <i>Geneway, Gulfardo</i> observing a -convenient time, when he was sitting at the doore with his Wife; tooke -his Friend with him, and comming to <i>Gasparuolo</i>, said. Worthy Sir, the -two hundred Crownes which you lent me, before your journey to <i>Geneway</i>, -in regard they could not serve my turne, to compasse the businesse for which -I borrowed them: within a day or two after, in the presence of this Gentleman -my friend, I made repayment of them to your wife, and therefore I -pray you crosse me out of your booke.</p> - -<p><i>Gasparuolo</i> turning to his Wife, demanded; Whether it was so, or no? -She beholding the witnesse standing by, who was also present at her -receyving them: durst not make deniall, but thus answered. Indeede -Husband, I received two hundred Crownes of the Gentleman, and never -remembred, to acquaint you therewith since your comming home: but hereafter -I will be made no more your receiver, except I carried a quicker memory.</p> - -<p>Then saide <i>Gasparuolo</i>: Signior <i>Gulfardo</i>, I finde you alwaies a most -honest Gentleman, and will be readie at any time, to doe you the like, or a -farre greater kindnesse; depart at your pleasure, and feare not the crossing -of my Booke. So <i>Gulfardo</i> went away merrily contented, and <i>Ambrosia</i> -was served as she justly merited; she paying the price of her owne leudnesse -to her Husband, which she had a more covetous intent to keepe, -questionlesse, not caring how many like lustfull matches shee coulde -make, to be so liberally rewarded, if this had succeeded to her minde: -whereas he shewed himselfe wise and discreete, in paying nothing -for his pleasure, and requiting a covetous -queane in her -kinde.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="A_lustie_youthfull_Priest_of_Varlungo_fell_in_love_with_a_pretty_woman_named" id="A_lustie_youthfull_Priest_of_Varlungo_fell_in_love_with_a_pretty_woman_named"><i>A lustie youthfull Priest of</i> Varlungo, <i>fell in love with a pretty woman, named</i> -Monna Belcolore. <i>To compasse his amorous desire, hee lefte his -Cloake (as a pledge of further payment) with her. By a subtile sleight -afterward, he made meanes to borrow a Morter of her, which when hee -sent home againe in the presence of her Husband; he demaunded to have -his Cloake sent him, as having left it in pawne for the Morter. To pacifie -her Husband, offended that shee did not lend the Priest the Morter -without a pawne: she sent him backe his Cloake againe, albeit greatly against -her will.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Second Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Approving, that no promise is to be kept with such Women as will make sale -of their honesty for coyne. A warning also for men, not to suffer Priests -to be over familiar with their wives.</i></h4> - - -<p>Both the Gentlemen and Ladies gave equall commendations, -of <i>Gulfardoes</i> queint beguiling the <i>Millaine</i> Gentlewoman -<i>Ambrosia</i>, and wishing all other (of her minde) might alwaies -be so served. Then the Queene, smiling on <i>Pamphilus</i>, commaunded -him to follow next: whereupon, thus he began.</p> - -<p>I can tell you (faire Ladies) a short Novell, against such as are continually -offensive to us, yet we being no way able to offend him; at least, in the -same manner as they do injurie us. And for your better understanding what -and who they be, they are our lusty Priests, who advance their Standard, -and make their publike predications against our wives, winning such advantage -over them, that they can pardon them both of the sinne and punishment, -whensoever they are once subjected unto theyr perswasions, -even as if they brought the Soldane bound and captived, from <i>Alexandria</i> -to <i>Avignon</i>. Which imperious power, we (poore soules) cannot exercise on -them, considering, we have neither heart nor courage, to do our devoire in -just revenge on their Mothers, Sisters, Daughters, and Friends, with the -like spirit as they rise in armes against our wives. And therefore, I meant -to tell you a tale of a Country mans wife, more to make you laugh at the conclusion -thereof; then for any singularity of words or matter: yet this benefite -you may gaine thereby, of an apparant proofe that such Sinamon, amorous -and perswading Priests, are not alwayes to be credited on their words -or promises.</p> - -<p>Let me then tell you, that at <i>Varlungo</i>, which you know to bee not -farre distant hence, there dwelt an youthfull Priest, lustie, gallant, and -proper of person (especially for Womens service) commonly called by -the name of sweet Sir <i>Simon</i>. Now, albeit he was a man of slender reading, -yet notwithstanding, he had store of Latine sentences by heart; -some true, but twice so many maimed and false, Saint-like shewes, holy -speeches, and ghostly admonitions, which hee would preach under an -Oake in the fields, when he had congregated his Parishioners together. -When women lay in childe-bed, hee was their daily comfortable visitant, -and would man them from their houses, when they had any occasion -to walke abroad: carrying alwaies a bottle of holy water about -him, wherewith he would sprinkle them by the way, peeces of hallowed -Candles, and Chrisome Cakes, which pleased women extraordinarily, -and all the Country affoorded not such another frolicke Priest, as -this our nimble and active sweet Sir <i>Simon</i>.</p> - -<p>Among many other of his feminine Parishioners, all of them being -hansome and comely Women: yet there was one more pleasing in his -wanton eye, then any of the rest, named <i>Monna Belcolore</i>, and wife to -a plaine mecanicke man, called <i>Bentivegna del Mazzo</i>. And, to speake -uprightly, few Countrey Villages yeelded a Woman, more fresh and -lovely of complexion, although not admirable for beauty, yet sweete -Sir <i>Simon</i> thought her a Saint, and faine would be offering at her shrine. -Divers pretty pleasing qualities she had, as sounding the Cymball, playing -artificially on the Timbrill, and singing thereto as it had beene a -Nightingale, dancing also so dexteriously, as happy was the man that -could dance in her company. All which so enflamed sweet Sir <i>Simon</i>, -that he lost his wonted sprightly behaviour, walked sullen, sad and melancholly, -as if he had melted all his mettall, because hee could hardly -have a sight of her. But on the Sonday morning, when hee heard or -knew that she was in the Church, hee would tickle it with a <i>Kyrie</i> and a -<i>Sanctus</i>, even as if hee contended to shewe his singular skill in singing, -when it had beene as good to heare an Asse bray. Whereas on the contrary, -when she came not to Church, Masse, and all else were quicklie -shaken uppe, as if his devotion waited onely on her presence. Yet -he was so cunning in the carriage of his amorous businesse, both for her -credite and his owne; as <i>Bentivegna</i> her husband could not perceive it, -or any neighbour so much as suspect it.</p> - -<p>But, to compasse more familiar acquaintance with <i>Belcolore</i>, hee sent -her sundry gifts and presents, day by day, as sometime a bunch of dainty -greene Garlicke, whereof he had plenty growing in his Garden, which -he manured with his owne hands, and better then all the countrey yeelded; -otherwhiles a small basket of Pease or Beanes, and Onyons or -Scallions, as the season served. But when he could come in place where -she was; then he darted amourous wincks and glances at her, with becks, -nods, and blushes, Loves private Ambassadours, which shee (being but -countrey-bred) seeming by outward appearance, not to see, retorted disdainefully, -and forthwith would absent her selfe, so that sweet Sir <i>Simon</i> -laboured still in vaine, and could not compasse what he coveted.</p> - -<p>It came to passe within a while after, that on a time, (about high -noone) Sir <i>Simon</i> being walking abroad, chanced to meete with <i>Bentivegna</i>, -driving an Asse before him, laden with divers commodities, and -demaunding of him, whither he went, <i>Bentivegna</i>, thus answered. In -troth Sir <i>Simon</i>, I am going to the City, about some especiall businesse of -mine owne, and I carry these things to Signior <i>Bonacorci da Cinestreto</i>, -because he should helpe me before the Judge, when I shall be called in question -concerning my patrimony. Sir <i>Simon</i> looking merrily on him, said. Thou -doest well <i>Bentivegna</i>, to make a friend sure before thou need him; goe, take -my blessing with thee, and returne againe with good successe. But if thou -meet with <i>Laguccio</i>, or <i>Naldino</i>, forget not to tell them, that they must -bring me my shooe-tyes before Sunday. <i>Bentivegna</i> said, hee would discharge -his errand, and so parted from him, driving his Asse on towards -<i>Florence</i>.</p> - -<p>Now began Sir <i>Simon</i> to shrug, and scratch his head, thinking this to -be a fit convenient time, for him to goe visite <i>Belcolore</i>, and to make triall -of his fortune: wherefore, setting aside all other businesse, he stayed -no where till he came to the house, whereinto being entred, he saide: -All happinesse be to them that dwell heere. <i>Belcolore</i> being then above in -the Chamber, when she heard his tongue, replyed. Sweet Sir <i>Simon</i>! -you are heartely welcome, whether are you walking, if the question may bee -demaunded? Beleeve me dainty Ducke, answered Sir <i>Simon</i>, I am come -to sit a while with thee, because I met thy Husband going to the Citie. By -this time, <i>Belcolore</i> was descended downe the stayres, and having once -againe given welcome to Sir <i>Simon</i>, she sate downe by him, cleansing -of Colewort seeds from such other course chaffe, which her Husband -had prepared before his departure.</p> - -<p>Sir <i>Simon</i> hugging her in his armes, and fetching a vehement sigh, -said. My <i>Belcolore</i>, how long shall I pine and languish for thy love? How -now Sir <i>Simon</i>? answered she, is this behaviour fitting for an holy man? -Holy-men <i>Belcolore</i>, (quoth Sir <i>Simon</i>) are made of the same matter as -others be, they have the same affections, and therefore subject to their infirmities. -Santa Maria, answered <i>Belcolore</i>, Dare Priests doe such -things as you talke of? Yes <i>Belcolore</i> (quoth he) and much better then other -men can, because they are made for the very best businesse, in which regard -they are restrained from marriage. True (quoth <i>Belcolore</i>) but much -more from meddling with other mens wives. Touch not that Text <i>Belcolore</i>, -replyed Sir <i>Simon</i>, it is somewhat above your capacity: talke of that I -come for, namely thy love, my Ducke, and my Dove. Sir <i>Simon</i> is thine, I -pray thee be mine.</p> - -<p><i>Belcolore</i> observing his smirking behaviour, his proper person, pretty -talke, and queint insinuating; felt a motion to female frailty, which yet -she would withstand so long as she could, and not be over-hasty in her -yeelding. Sir <i>Simon</i> promiseth her a new paire of shoes, garters, ribbands, -girdles, or what else she would request. Sir <i>Simon</i> (quoth she) all -these things which you talke of, are fit for women: but if your love to mee -be such as you make choice of, fulfill what I will motion to you, and then -(perhaps) I shall tell you more. Sir <i>Simons</i> heate made him hasty to promise -whatsoever she would desire; whereupon, thus shee replyed. On -Saturday, said she, I must goe to <i>Florence</i>, to carry home such yarne as was -sent me to spinne, and to amend my spinning wheele: if you will lend mee -ten Florines, wherewith I know you are alwayes furnished, I shall redeeme -from the Usurer my best peticote, and my wedding gowne (both well neere -lost for lacke of repaiment) without which I cannot be seene at Church, or in -any other good place else, and then afterward other matters may be accomplished.</p> - -<p>Alas sweet <i>Belcolore</i> answered Sir <i>Simon</i>, I never beare any such sum -about me, for men of our profession, doe seldome carry any money at all: but -beleeve me on my word, before Saturday come, I will not faile to bring them -hither. Oh Sir (quoth <i>Belcolore</i>) you men are quicke promisers, but slow -performers. Doe you thinke to use me, as poore <i>Billezza</i> was, who trusted -to as faire words, and found her selfe deceived? Now Sir <i>Simon</i>, her example -in being made scandall to the world, is a sufficient warning for me: -if you be not so provided, goe and make use of your friend, for I am not otherwise -to be moved. Nay <i>Belcolore</i> (quoth he) I hope you will not serve -me so, but my word shall be of better worth with you. Consider the conveniency -of time, wee being so privately here alone: whereas at my returning -hither againe, some hinderance may thwart me, and the like opportunity -be never obtained. Sir, Sir, (said she) you have heard my resolution; if -you will fetche the Florines, doe; otherwise, walke about your businesse, for I -am a woman of my word.</p> - -<p>Sir <i>Simon</i> perceiving, that she would not trust him upon bare words, -nor any thing was to be done, without <i>Salvum me fac</i>, whereas his meaning -was <i>Sine custodia</i>; thus answered. Well <i>Belcolore</i>, seeing you dare -not credit my bringing the tenne Florines, according to my promised day: -I will leave you a good pawne, my very best cloake, lyned quite thorough -with rich Silke, and made up in the choysest manner.</p> - -<p><i>Belcolore</i> looking on the Cloake, said. How much may this Cloake bee -worth? How much? quoth Sir <i>Simon</i>, upon my word <i>Belcolore</i>, it is of -a right fine Flanders Serdge, and not above eight dayes since, I bought it thus -(ready made) of <i>Lotto</i> the Fripperer, and payed for it sixe and twenty Florines, -a pledge then sufficient for your ten. Is it possible, said shee, that it -should cost so much? Well, Sir <i>Simon</i>, deliver it me first, I will lay it up safe -for you against Saturday, when if you fetch it not; I will redeeme mine owne -things with it, and leave you to release it your selfe.</p> - -<p>The Cloake is laid up by <i>Belcolore</i>, and Sir <i>Simon</i> so forward in his affection; -that (in briefe) he enjoyed what hee came for; and departed afterward -in his light tripping Cassocke, but yet thorow by-Lanes, and no -much frequented places, smelling on a Nosegay, as if hee had beene at -some wedding in the Countrey, and went thus lightly without his -Cloake, for his better ease. As commonly after actions of evill, Repentance -knocketh at the doore of Conscience, and urgeth a guilty remembrance, -with some sence of sorrow: so was it now with sweet Sir <i>Simon</i>, -who survaying over all his Vailes of offering Candles, the validity of his -yearely benefits, and all comming nothing neere the summe of (scarce -halfe) sixe and twenty Florines; he began to repent his deed of darkenesse, -although it was acted in the day-time, and considered with himselfe, -by what honest (yet unsuspected meanes) hee might recover his -Cloake againe, before it went to the Broaker, in redemption of <i>Belcolores</i> -pawned apparrell, and yet to send her no Florines neither.</p> - -<p>Having a cunning reaching wit, especially in matters for his owne -advantage, and pretending to have a dinner at his lodging, for a few of -some invited friends: he made use of a neighbours Boy, sending him to -the house of <i>Belcolore</i>, with request of lending him her Stone Morter, to -make Greene-sawce in for his guests, because hee had meate required -such sawce. <i>Belcolore</i> suspecting no treachery, sent him the Stone Morter -with the Pestell, and about dinner time, when he knew <i>Bentivegna</i> to -bee at home with his wife, by a spye which was set for the purpose; hee -called the Clearke (usually attending on him) and said. Take this Morter -and Pestell, beare them home to <i>Belcolore</i>, and tell her: Sir <i>Simon</i> -sends them home with thankes, they having sufficiently served his turne, -and desire her likewise, to send me my Cloake, which the Boy left as a -pledge for better remembrance, and because she would not lend it without -a pawne.</p> - -<p>The Clearke comming to the house of <i>Belcolore</i>, found her sitting at -dinner with her Husband, and delivering her the Pestell and Morter, -performed the rest of Sir <i>Simons</i> message. <i>Belcolore</i> hearing the Cloake -demaunded, stept up to make answere: But <i>Bentivegna</i>, seeming (by his -lookes) to be much offended, roughly replyed. Why how now wife? Is not -Sir <i>Simon</i> our especiall friend, and cannot be be pleasured without a pawne? -I protest upon my word, I could find in my heart to smite thee for it. Rise -quickely thou wert best, and send him backe his Cloake; with this warning -hereafter, that whatsoever he will have, be it your poore Asse, or any thing else -being ours, let him have it: and tell him (Master Clearke) he may command it. -<i>Belcolore</i> rose grumbling from the Table, and fetching the Cloake forth -of the Chest, which stood neere at hand in the same roome; shee delivered -it to the Clearke, saying. Tell Sir <i>Simon</i> from me, and boldly say you -heard me speake it: that I made a vow to my selfe, he shall never make use of -my Morter hereafter, to beat any more of his sawcinesse in, let my Husband -say whatsoever he will, I speake the word, and will performe it.</p> - -<p>Away went the Clearke home with the Cloake, and told Sir <i>Simon</i> -what she had said, whereto he replyed. If I must make use of her Morter -no more; I will not trust her with the keeping of my Cloake, for feare it goe -to gage indeed.</p> - -<p><i>Bentivegna</i> was a little displeased at his wives words, because hee -thought she spake but in jest; albeit <i>Belcolore</i> was so angry with Sir <i>Simon</i>, -that she would not speake to him till vintage time following. But -then Sir <i>Simon</i>, what by sharpe threatenings of her soule to be in danger -of hell fire, continuing so long in hatred of a holy Priest, which words -did not a little terrifie her; besides daily presents to her, of sweet new -Wines, roasted Chesse-nuts, Figges and Almonds: all unkindnesse became -converted to former familiarity; the garments were redeemed; -he gave her Sonnets which she would sweetly sing to -her Cimbale, and further friendship increased -betweene her and sweet Sir <i>Simon.</i></p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Calandrino_Bruno_and_Buffalmaco_all_of_them_being_Painters_by" id="Calandrino_Bruno_and_Buffalmaco_all_of_them_being_Painters_by">Calandrino, Bruno, <i>and</i> Buffalmaco, <i>all of them being Painters by -profession, travelled to the Plaine of</i> Mugnone, <i>to finde the precious -Stone called</i> Helitropium. Calandrino <i>perswaded himselfe to -have found it; returned home to his house heavily loaden with -stones. His Wife rebuking him for his absence, hee groweth into -anger, and shrewdly beateth her. Afterward, when the case is debated -among his other friends</i> Bruno <i>and</i> Buffalmaco, <i>all is found -to be meere foolery.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Third Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Justly reprehending the simplicity of such men, as are too much addicted -to credulitie, and will give credit to every thing they -heare.</i></h4> - - -<p><i>Pamphilus</i> having ended his Novell, whereat the Ladies -laughed exceedingly, so that very hardly they could give -over: The Queene gave charge to Madame <i>Eliza</i>, that -shee should next succeed in order; when, being scarcely able to refraine -from smyling, thus she began.</p> - -<p>I know not (Gracious Ladies) whether I can move you to as hearty -laughter, with a briefe Novell of mine owne, as <i>Pamphilus</i> lately -did with his: yet I dare assure you, that it is both true and pleasant, -and I will relate it in the best manner I can.</p> - -<p>In our owne Citie, which evermore hath contained all sorts of people, -not long since there dwelt, a Painter, named <i>Calandrino</i>, a simple -man; yet as much addicted to matters of novelty, as any man whatsoever -could be. The most part of his time, he spent in the company of two other -Painters, the one called <i>Bruno</i>, and the other <i>Buffalmaco</i>, men of very -recreative spirits, and of indifferent good capacity; often resorting to -the said <i>Calandrino</i>, because they tooke delight in his honest simplicity, -and pleasant order of behaviour. At the same time likewise, there -dwelt in <i>Florence</i>, a young Gentleman of singular disposition, to every -generous and witty conceite, as the world did not yeeld a more pleasant -companion, he being named <i>Maso del Saggio</i>, who having heard somwhat -of <i>Calandrinos</i> sillinesse: determined to jest with him in merry -manner, and to suggest his longing humors after Novelties, with some -conceit of extraordinary nature.</p> - -<p>He happening (on a day) to meete him in the Church of Saint -<i>John</i>, and seeing him seriously busied, in beholding the rare pictures, -and the curious carved Tabernacle, which (not long before) was -placed on the high Altar in the said Church: considered with himselfe, -that he had now fit place and opportunity, to effect what hee -had long time desired. And having imparted his minde to a very -intimate friend, how he intended to deale with simple <i>Calandrino</i>: -they went both very neere him, where he sate all alone, and making -shew as if they saw him not; began to consult between themselves, -concerning the rare properties of precious stones; whereof <i>Maso</i> -discoursed as exactly, as he had beene a most skilfull Lapidarie; to -which conference of theirs, <i>Calandrino</i> lent an attentive eare, in regard -it was matter of singular rarity.</p> - -<p>Soone after, <i>Calandrino</i> started up, and perceiving by their loude -speaking, that they talked of nothing which required secret Counsell: -he went into their company (the onely thing which <i>Maso</i> desired) -and holding on still the former Argument; <i>Calandrino</i> would -needs request to know, in what place these precious stones were to -be found, which had such excellent vertues in them? <i>Maso</i> made -answere, that the most of them were to be had in <i>Berlinzona</i>, neere -to the City of <i>Bascha</i>, which was in the Territory of a Countrey, -called <i>Bengodi</i>, where the Vines were bound about with Sawcidges, -a Goose was sold for a penny, and the Goslings freely given in -to boote. There was also an high mountaine, wholly made of <i>Parmezane</i>, -grated Cheese, whereon dwelt people, who did nothing -else but make <i>Mocharones</i> and <i>Raviuolies</i>, boiling them with broth -of Capons, and afterward hurled them all about, to whosoever can -or will catch them. Neere to this mountaine runneth a faire River, -the whole streame being pure white Bastard, none such was ever -sold for any money, and without one drop of water in it.</p> - -<p>Now trust me Sir, (said <i>Calandrino</i>) that is an excellent Countrey -to dwell in: but I pray you tell me Sir, what doe they with the Capons -after they have boyld them? The <i>Baschanes</i> (quoth <i>Maso</i>) eate them -all. Have you Sir, said <i>Calandrino</i>, at any time beene in that Countrey? -How? answered <i>Maso</i>, doe you demaund if I have beene there? -Yes man, above a thousand times, at the least. How farre Sir, I pray -you (quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) is that worthy Countrey, from this our City? -In troth replyed <i>Maso</i>, the miles are hardly to be numbred, for the -most part of them we travell when we are nightly in our beddes, -and if a man dreame right; he may be there upon a sudden.</p> - -<p>Surely Sir, said <i>Calandrino</i>, it is further hence, then to <i>Abruzzi</i>? -Yes questionlesse, replyed <i>Maso</i>; but, to a willing minde, no travell -seemeth tedious.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> well noting, that <i>Maso</i> delivered all these speeches, -with a stedfast countenance, no signe of smyling, or any gesture to -urge the least mislike: he gave such credit to them, as to any matter -of apparent and manifest truth, and upon this assured confidence, he -said.</p> - -<p>Beleeve me Sir, the journey is over-farre for mee to undertake, -but if it were neerer; I could affoord to goe in your Company; onely -to see how they make these <i>Macherones</i>, and to fill my belly with -them.</p> - -<p>But now wee are in talke Sir, I pray you pardon mee to aske, whether -any such precious stones, as you spake off, are to be found in that -Countrey, or no? Yes indeed, replyed <i>Maso</i>, there are two kinds of them -to be found in those Territories, both being of very great vertue. One -kind, are gritty stones, of <i>Settignano</i>, and of <i>Montisca</i>, by vertue of -which places, when any Mill-stones or Grind-stones are to bee made, -they knede the sand as they use to doe meale, and so make them of what -bignesse they please. In which respect, they have have a common saying -there: that Nature maketh common stones, but <i>Montisca</i> Mill-stones. -Such plenty are there of these Mill-stones, so slenderly here esteemed among -us, as Emeralds are with them, whereof they have whole mountaines, -farre greater then our <i>Montemorello</i>, which shine most gloriously -at midnight. And how meanly soever we account of their Mill-stones; -yet there they drill them, and enchase them in Rings, which afterward -they send to the great Soldane, and have whatsoever they will -demaund for them.</p> - -<p>The other kinde is a most precious Stone indeede, which our best Lapidaries -call the <i>Helitropium</i>, the vertue whereof is so admirable; -as whosoever beareth it about him, so long as he keepeth it, it is impossible -for any eye to discerne him, because he walketh meerely invisible. O -Lord Sir (quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) these stones are of rare vertue indeede: -but where else may a man finde that <i>Helitropium</i>? Whereto <i>Maso</i> -thus answered: That Countrey onely doth not containe the <i>Helitropium</i>; -for they be many times found upon our plaine of <i>Mugnone</i>. -Of what bignesse Sir (quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) is the Stone, and what coulour? -The <i>Helitropium</i>, answered <i>Maso</i>, is not alwayes of one quality, -because some are bigge, and others lesse; but all are of one coulour, -namely blacke.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> committing all these things to respective memory, -and pretending to be called thence by some other especiall affaires; -departed from <i>Maso</i>, concluding resolvedly with himselfe, to finde -this precious stone, if possibly hee could: yet intending to doe nothing, -untill hee had acquainted <i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i> therewith, -whom he loved dearly: he went in all hast to seeke them; because, -(without any longer trifling the time) they three might bee the first -men, that should find out this precious stone, spending almost the -whole morning, before they were all three met together. For they -were painting at the Monastery of the Sisters of <i>Faenza</i>, where they -had very serious imployment, and followed their businesse diligently: -where having found them, and saluting them in such kinde -manner, as continually he used to doe, thus he began.</p> - -<p>Loving friends, if you were pleased to follow mine advise, wee three -will quickely be the richest men in <i>Florence</i>; because, by information -from a Gentleman (well deserving to be credited) on the Plaine of -<i>Mugnone</i>: there is a precious stone to be found, which whosoever carrieth -it about him, walketh invisible, and is not to be seene by any one. -Let us three be the first men to goe and finde it, before any other heare -thereof, and goe about it, and assure our selves that we shall finde it, for -I know it (by discription) so soone as I see it. And when wee have it, -who can hinder us from bearing it about us. Then will we goe to the -Tables of our Bankers, or money changers, which we see daily charged -with plenty of gold and silver, where we may take so much as wee list, -for they (nor any) are able to descrie us. So, (in short time) shall wee -all be wealthy, never needing to drudge any more, or paint muddy -walles, as hitherto we have done; and, as many of our poore profession -are forced to doe.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i> hearing this, began to smile, and looking -merrily each on other, they seemed to wonder thereat, and greatly -commended the counsell of <i>Calandrino. Buffalmaco</i> demaunding -how the stone was named. Now it fortuned, that <i>Calandrino</i> (who -had but a grosse and blockish memory) had quite forgot the name -of the stone, and therefore said. What neede have wee of the name, -when we know, and are assured of the stones vertue? Let us make no -more adoe, but (setting aside all other businesse) goe seeke where it is to -be found. Well my friend (answered <i>Bruno</i>) you say wee may find it, -but how, and by what meanes?</p> - -<p>There are two sorts of them (quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) some bigge, others -smaller, but all carry a blacke colour: therefore (in mine opinion) let -us gather all such stones as are blacke, so shall we be sure to finde it among -them, without any further losse of time.</p> - -<p><i>Buffalmaco</i> and <i>Bruno</i>, liked and allowed the counsell of <i>Calandrino</i>, -which when they had (by severall commendations) given him -assurance of, <i>Bruno</i> saide. I doe not thinke it a convenient time now, -for us to go about so weighty a businesse: for the Sun is yet in the highest -degree, and striketh such a heate on the plaine of <i>Mugnone</i>, as all -the stones are extreamly dryed, and the very blackest will nowe seeme -whitest. But in the morning, after the dew is falne, and before the -Sunne shineth forth, every stone retaineth his true colour. Moreover, -there be many Labourers now working on the plaine, about such businesse -as they are severally assigned, who seeing us in so serious a serch: -may imagine what we seeke for, & partake with us in the same inquisition, -by which meanes they may chance to speed before us, and so wee -may lose both our trot and amble. Wherefore, by my consent, if your -opinion jumpe with mine, this is an enterprise onely to be perfourmed -in an early morning, when the blacke stones are to be distinguisht from -the white, and a Festivall day were the best of all other, for then there -will be none to discover us.</p> - -<p><i>Buffalmaco</i> applauded the advice of <i>Bruno</i>, and <i>Calandrino</i> did -no lesse, concluding all together; that Sunday morning (next ensuing) -should be the time, and then they all three would go seeke the -Stone. But <i>Calandrino</i> was verie earnest with them, that they shold -not reveale it to any living body, because it was tolde him as an especiall -secret: disclosing further to them, what hee had heard concerning -the Countrey of <i>Bengodi</i>, maintaining (with solemn oaths -and protestations) that every part thereof was true. Uppon this agreement, -they parted from <i>Calandrino</i>, who hardly enjoyed anie -rest at all, either by night or day, so greedie he was to bee possessed -of the stone. On the Sonday morning, hee called up his Companions -before breake of day, and going forth at S. <i>Galls</i> Port, they stayed -not, till they came to the plaine of <i>Mugnone</i>, where they searched -all about to finde this strange stone.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> went stealing before the other two, and verilie perswaded -himselfe, that he was borne to finde the <i>Helitropium</i>, and -looking on every side about him, hee rejected all other Stones but -the blacke, whereof first he filled his bosome, and afterwards, both -his Pockets. Then he tooke off his large painting Apron, which -he fastened with his girdle in the manner of a sacke, and that he filled -full of stones likewise. Yet not so satisfied, he spred abroad his -Cloake, which being also full of stones, hee bound it up carefully, -for feare of loosing the very least of them. All which <i>Buffalmaco</i> -and <i>Bruno</i> well observing (the day growing on, and hardly they -could reach home by dinner time) according as merrily they had -concluded, and pretending not to see <i>Calandrino</i>, albeit he was not -farre from them: What is become of <i>Calandrino</i>? saide <i>Buffalmaco. -Bruno</i> gazing strangely every where about him, as if hee were desirous -to finde him, replyed. I saw him not long since, for then he was -hard by before us; questionlesse, he hath given us the slippe, is privilie -gone home to dinner, and making starke fooles of us, hath lefte us to -picke up blacke stones, upon the parching plaines of <i>Mugnone</i>. Well -(quoth <i>Buffalmaco</i>) this is but the tricke of an hollow-hearted friend, -and not such as he protested himselfe to be, to us. Could any but wee -have bin so sottish, to credit his frivolous perswasions, hoping to finde any -stones of such vertue, and here on the fruitlesse plains of <i>Mugnone</i>? -No, no, none but we would have beleeved him.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> (who was close by them) hearing these wordes, and -seeing the whole manner of their wondering behaviour: became -constantly perswaded, that hee had not onely founde the precious -stone; but also had some store of them about him, by reason he was -so neere to them, and yet they could not see him, therefore he walked -before them. Now was his joy beyond all compasse of expression, -and being exceedingly proud of so happy an adventure: did -not meane to speake one word to them, but (heavily laden as hee -was) to steale home faire and softly before them, which indeede he -did, leaving them to follow after, if they would. <i>Bruno</i> perceiving -his intent, said to <i>Buffalmaco</i>: What remaineth now for us to doe? -Why should not we go home, as well as hee? And reason too, replyed -<i>Bruno</i>, It is in vaine to tarry any longer heere: but I solemnly protest, -<i>Calandrino</i> shall no more make an Asse of me: and were I now as neere -him, as not long since I was, I would give him such a remembrance on -the heele with this Flint stone, as should sticke by him this moneth, to -teach him a lesson for abusing his friends.</p> - -<p>Hee threw the stone, and hit him shrewdly on the heele therewith; -but all was one to <i>Calandrino</i>, whatsoever they saide, or did, -as thus they still followed after him. And although the blow of the -stone was painfull to him; yet he mended his pace so wel as he was -able, in regard of beeing over-loaden with stones, and gave them -not one word all the way, because he tooke himselfe to bee invisible, -and utterly unseene of them. <i>Buffalmaco</i> taking uppe another -Flint-stone, which was indifferent heavie and sharp, said to <i>Bruno</i>. -Seest thou this Flint? Casting it from him, he smote <i>Calandrino</i> just -in the backe therewith, saying. Oh that <i>Calandrino</i> had bin so neere, -as I might have hit him on the backe with the stone. And thus all the -way on the plaine of <i>Mugnone</i>, they did nothing else but pelt him -with stones, even so farre as the Port of S. <i>Gall</i>, where they threwe -downe what other stones they had gathered, meaning not to molest -him any more, because they had done enough already.</p> - -<p>There they stept before him unto the Port, and acquainted the -Warders with the whole matter, who laughing heartily at the jest, -the better to upholde it; would seeme not to see <i>Calandrino</i> in his -passage by them, but suffered him to go on, sore wearied with his -burthen, and sweating extreamly. Without resting himselfe in any -place, he came home to his house, which was neere to the corner -of the Milles, Fortune being so favourable to him in the course -of this mockery, that as he passed along the Rivers side, and afterward -through part of the City; he was neither met nor seen by any, -in regard they were all in their houses at dinner.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i>, every minute ready to sinke under his weightie burthen, -entred into his owne house, where (by great ill luck) his wife, -being a comely and very honest woman, and named <i>Monna Trista</i>, -was standing aloft on the stayres head. She being somewhat angry -for his so long absence, and seeing him come in grunting and groaning, -frowningly said. I thought that the divell would never let thee -come home, all the whole Citie have dined, and yet wee must remaine -without our dinner. When <i>Calandrino</i> heard this, & perceived that -he was not invisible to his Wife: full of rage and wroth, hee began -to raile, saying. Ah thou wicked woman, where art thou? Thou hast -utterly undone me: but (as I live) I will pay thee soundly for it. Up -the staires he ascended into a small Parlour, where when he hadde -spred all his burthen of stones on the floore: he ran to his wife, catching -her by the haire of the head, and throwing her at his feete; -giving her so many spurns and cruel blowes, as shee was not able to -moove either armes or legges, notwithstanding all her teares, and -humble submission.</p> - -<p>Now <i>Buffalmaco</i> and <i>Bruno</i>, after they had spent an indifferent -while, with the Warders at the Port in laughter; in a faire & gentle -pace, they followed <i>Calandrino</i> home to his house, and being come -to the doore, they heard the harsh bickering betweene him and his -Wife, and seeming as if they were but newly arrived, they called -out alowd to him. <i>Calandrino</i> being in a sweate, stamping and raving -still at his Wife: looking forth of the window, entreated them -to ascend up to him, which they did, counterfetting greevous displeasure -against him. Being come into the roome, which they saw -all covered over with stones, his Wife sitting in a corner, all the -haire (well-neere) torne off her head, her face broken and bleeding, -and all her body cruelly beaten; on the other side, <i>Calandrino</i> standing -unbraced and ungirded, strugling and wallowing, like a man -quite out of breath: after a little pausing, <i>Bruno</i> thus spake.</p> - -<p>Why how now <i>Calandrino</i>? What may the meaning of this matter -be? What, art thou preparing for building, that thou hast provided -such plenty of stones? How sitteth thy poore wife? How hast thou misused -her? Are these the behaviours of a wise or honest man? <i>Calandrino</i>, -utterly over-spent with travaile, and carrying such an huge -burthen of stones, as also the toylesome beating of his Wife, (but -much more impatient and offended, for that high good Fortune, -which he imagined to have lost:) could not collect his spirits together, -to answer them one ready word, wherefore hee sate fretting -like a mad man. Whereupon, <i>Buffalmaco</i> thus began to him. <i>Calandrino</i>, -if thou be angry with any other, yet thou shouldest not have -made such a mockery of us, as thou hast done: in leaving us (like a couple -of coxcombes) to the plaine of <i>Mugnone</i>, whether thou leddest us -with thee, to seeke a precious stone called <i>Helitropium</i>. And couldst -thou steale home, never bidding us so much as farewell? How can we -but take it in very evill part, that thou shouldest so abuse two honest -neighbours? Well, assure thy selfe, this is the last time that ever thou -shalt serve us so.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> (by this time) being somewhat better come to himselfe, -with an humble protestation of courtesie, returned them this -answer. Alas my good friends, be not you offended, the case is farre otherwise -then you immagine. Poore unfortunate man that I am, I -found the rare precious stone that you speake of: and marke me well, if I -do not tell you the truth of all. When you asked one another (the first -time) what was become of me; I was hard by you: at the most, within -the distance of two yards length; and perceiving that you saw mee not, -(being still so neere, and alwaies before you:) I went on, smiling to my -selfe, to heare you brabble and rage against me.</p> - -<p>So, proceeding on in his discourse, he recounted every accident -as it hapned, both what they had saide and did unto him, concerning -the severall blowes, with the two Flint-stones, the one hurting -him greevously in the heele, and the other paining him as extreamly -in the backe, with their speeches used then, and his laughter, -notwithstanding hee felt the harme of them both, yet beeing -proud that he did so invisibly beguile them. Nay more (quoth he) -I cannot forbeare to tell you, that when I passed thorow the Port, I saw -you standing with the Warders; yet, by vertue of that excellent Stone, -undiscovered of you all. Beside, going along the streets, I met many of -my Gossips, friends, and familiar acquaintance, such as used daylie to -converse with me, and drinking together in every Tavern: yet not one -of them spake to me, neyther used any courtesie or salutation; which -(indeede) I did the more freely forgive them, because they were not able -to see me.</p> - -<p>In the end of all, when I was come home into mine owne house, this -divellish and accursed woman, being aloft uppon my stayres head, by -much misfortune chanced to see me; in regard (as it is not unknowne -to you) that women cause all things to lose their vertue. In which respect, -I that could have stild my selfe the onely happy man in <i>Florence</i>, -am now made most miserable. And therefore did I justly beate her, so -long as she was able to stand against mee, and I know no reason to the -contrary, why I should not yet teare her in a thousand peeces: for I may -well curse the day of our mariage, to hinder and bereave me of such an -invisible blessednesse.</p> - -<p><i>Buffalmaco</i> and <i>Bruno</i> hearing this, made shew of verie much -mervailing thereat, and many times maintained what <i>Calandrino</i> -had said; being well neere ready to burst with laughter; considering, -how confidently he stood upon it, that he had found the wonderful -stone, and lost it by his wives speaking onely to him. But -when they saw him rise in fury once more, with intent to beat her -againe: then they stept betweene them; affirming, That the woman -had no way offended in this case, but rather he himself: who knowing -that women cause all things to lose their vertue, had not therefore expresly -commanded her, not to be seene in his presence all that day, untill -he had made full proofe of the stones vertue. And questionles, the -consideration of a matter so available and important, was quite taken -from him, because such an especiall happinesse, should not belong to -him only; but (in part) to his friends, whom he had acquainted therewith, -drew them to the plaine with him in companie, where they -tooke as much paines in serch of the stone, as possibly he did, or could; -and yet (dishonestly) he would deceive them, and beare it away covetously, -for his owne private benefit.</p> - -<p>After many other, as wise and wholesome perswasions, which -he constantly credited, because they spake them, they reconciled -him to his wife, and she to him: but not without some difficulty in -him; who falling into wonderfull greefe and melancholy, for losse -of such an admirable precious stone, was in danger to have dyed, -within lesse then a month after.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="The_Provost_belonging_to_the_Cathedrall_Church_of_Fiesola_fell_in_love" id="The_Provost_belonging_to_the_Cathedrall_Church_of_Fiesola_fell_in_love"><i>The Provost belonging to the Cathedrall Church of</i> Fiesola, <i>fell in love -with a Gentlewoman, being a widdow, and named</i> Piccarda, <i>who -hated him as much as he loved her. He imagining, that he lay with -her: by the Gentlewomans Bretheren, and the Byshop under whom -he served, was taken in bed with her Mayde, an ugly, foule, deformed -Slut.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Fourth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is declared, how love oftentimes is so powerfull in aged men, -and driveth them to such doating, that it redoundeth to their great -disgrace and punishment.</i></h4> - - -<p>Ladie <i>Eliza</i> having concluded her Novell, not without infinite -commendations of the whole company: the Queen -turning her lookes to Madame <i>Æmillia</i>, gave her such an -expresse signe, as she must needs follow next after Madame <i>Eliza</i>, -whereupon she began in this manner.</p> - -<p>Vertuous Ladies, I very well remember (by divers Novels formerly -related) that sufficient hath beene sayde, concerning Priests and Religious -persons, and all other carrying shaven Crownes, in their luxurious -appetites and desires. But because no one can at any time say so -much, as thereto no more may be added: beside them alreadie spoken -of, I wil tel you another concerning the Provost of a Cathedrall Church, -who would needes (in despight of all the world) love a Gentlewoman -whether she would or no: and therefore, in due chastisement both unto -his age and folly, she gave him such entertainment as he justly deserved.</p> - -<p>It is not unknowne unto you all, that the Cittie of <i>Fiesola</i>, the -mountaine whereof we may very easily hither discerne, hath bene -(in times past) a very great and most ancient City: although at this -day it is well-neere all ruined: yet neverthelesse, it alwaies was, and -yet is a Byshops See, albeit not of the wealthiest. In the same Citie, -and no long while since, neere unto the Cathedrall Church, -there dwelt a Gentlewoman, being a Widdow, and commonlie -there stiled by the name of Madame <i>Piccarda</i>, whose house and inheritance -was but small, wherewith yet she lived very contentedly -(having no wandering eye, or wanton desires) and no company -but her two Brethren, Gentlemen of especiall honest and gracious -disposition.</p> - -<p>This Gentlewoman, being yet in the flourishing condition of -her time, did ordinarily resort to the Cathedrall Church, in holie -zeale, and religious devotion; where the Provost of the place, became -so enamored of her, as nothing (but the sight of her) yeelded -him any contentment. Which fond affection of his, was forwarded -with such an audacious and bold carriage, as hee dared to -acquaint her with his love, requiring her enterchange of affection, -and the like opinion of him, as he had of her. True it is, that he was -very farre entred into yeares, but young and lustie in his own proud -conceite, presuming strangely beyond his capacity, and thinking as -well of his abilitie, as the youthfullest gallant in the World could -doe. Whereas (in verie deede) his person was utterly displeasing, -his behaviour immodest and scandalous, and his usuall Language, -favouring of such sensualitie, as, very fewe or none cared -for his company. And if any Woman seemed respective of him, -it was in regard of his outside and profession, and more for feare, -then the least affection, and alwayes as welcome to them, as the -head-ake.</p> - -<p>His fond and foolish carriage stil continuing to this Gentlewoman; -she being wise and vertuously advised, spake thus unto him. -Holy Sir, if you love me according as you protest, & manifest by your -outward behaviour: I am the more to thanke you for it, being bound -in dutie to love you likewise. But if your Love have any harshe or unsavourie -taste, which mine is no way able to endure, neyther dare -entertaine in anie kinde whatsoever: you must and shall hold mee excused, -because I am made of no such temper. You are my ghostly and -spirituall Father, an Holy Priest. Moreover, yeares have made you honourably -aged; all which severall weighty considerations, ought to confirme -you in continency & chastity. Remember withall (good sir) that I -am but a child to you in years, & were I bent to any wanton appetites, -you shold justly correct me by fatherly counsell, such as most beautifieth -your sacred profession. Beside, I am a Widdow, and you are not ignorant, -how requisite a thing honestie is in widdowes. Wherefore, pardon -mee (Holy Father:) for, in such manner as you make the motion: I -desire you not to love mee, because I neither can or will at any time so -affect you.</p> - -<p>The Provoste gaining no other grace at this time, would not so -give over for this first repulse, but pursuing her still with unbeseeming -importunity; many private meanes he used to her by Letters, -tokens, and insinuating ambassages; yea, whensoever shee came to -the Church, he never ceased his wearisome solicitings. Whereat -she growing greatly offended, and perceyving no likelyhood of his -desisting; became so tyred with his tedious suite, that she considered -with her selfe, how she might dispatch him as he deserved, because -she saw no other remedy. Yet shee would not attempte anie -thing in this case, without acquainting her Bretheren first therewith. -And having tolde them, how much shee was importuned by the -Provost, and also what course she meant to take (wherein they both -counselled and encouraged her:) within a few daies after, shee went -to Church as she was wont to do; where so soone as the Provost espyed -her: forthwith he came to her, and according to his continued -course, he fell into his amorous courting. She looking upon him -with a smiling countenance, and walking aside with him out of any -hearing: after he had spent many impertinent speeches, shee (venting -foorth manie a vehement sighe) at length returned him this -answer.</p> - -<p>Reverend Father, I have often heard it saide: That there is not any -Fort or Castle, how strongly munited soever it bee; but by continuall -assayling, at length (of necessity) it must and will be surprized. Which -comparison, I may full well allude to my selfe. For, you having so long -time solicited me, one while with affable language, then againe with -tokens and entisements, of such prevailing power: as have broken the -verie barricado of my former deliberation, and yeelded mee uppe -as your prisoner, to be commanded at your pleasure, for now I am onely -devoted yours.</p> - -<p>Well may you (Gentle Ladies) imagine, that this answere was -not a little welcome to the Provost; who, shrugging with conceyte -of joy, presently thus replyed. I thanke you Madame <i>Piccarda</i>, and -to tell you true, I held it almost as a miracle, that you could stand upon -such long resistance, considering, it never so fortuned to mee with anie -other. And I have many times saide to my selfe, that if women were -made of silver, they hardly could be worth a pennie, because there can -scarsely one be found of so good allay, as to endure the test and essay. But -let us breake off this frivolous conference, and resolve upon a conclusion; -How, when and where we may safely meete together. Worthy Sir, -answered <i>Piccarda</i>, your selfe may appoint the time whensoever you -please, because I have no Husband, to whom I should render any account -of my absence, or presence: but I am not provided of any place.</p> - -<p>A pretty while the Provoste stood musing, and at last saide. A -place Madame? where can be more privacie, then in your owne house? -Alas Sir (quoth she) you know that I have two Gentlemen my brethren -who continually are with me, & other of their friends beside: My -house also is not great, wherefore it is impossible to be there, except you -could be like a dumbe man, without speaking one word, or making the -very least noyse; beside, to remaine in darkenesse, as if you were blinde, -and who can be able to endure all these? And yet (without these) there -is no adventuring, albeit they never come into my Chamber: but their -lodging is so close to mine, as there cannot any word be spoken, be it never -so low or in whispering manner, but they heare it very easily. Madame -said the Provoste, for one or two nights, I can make hard shift. -Why Sir (quoth she) the matter onely remaineth in you, for if you be -silent and suffering, as already you have heard, there is no feare at all -of safty. Let me alone Madame, replyed the Provoste, I will bee governed -by your directions: but, in any case, let us begin this night. -With all my heart, saide shee. So appointing him how and when hee -should come; hee parted from her, and shee returned home to her -house.</p> - -<p>Heere I am to tell you, that this Gentlewoman had a servant, in -the nature of an old maide, not indued with any well featured face, -but instead thereof, she had the ugliest and most counterfeit countenance, -as hardly could be seene a worse. She had a wrie mouth, -huge great lippes, foule teeth, great and blacke, a monstrous stinking -breath, her eyes bleared, and alwayes running, the complexion -of her face betweene greene and yellow, as if shee had not spent the -Summer season in the Citie, but in the parching Countrey under a -hedge; and beside all these excellent parts, shee was crooke backt, -poult footed, and went like a lame Mare in Fetters. Her name was -<i>Ciuta</i>, but in regard of her flat nose, lying as low as a Beagles, shee -was called <i>Ciutazza</i>. Now, notwithstanding all this deformity in -her, yet she had a singuler opinion of her selfe, as commonly all such -foule Sluts have: in regard whereof, Madame <i>Piccarda</i> calling her -aside, Thus began.</p> - -<p><i>Ciutazza</i>, if thou wilt doe for me one nights service, I shall bestow on -thee a faire new Smocke. When <i>Ciutazza</i> heard her speake of a -new Smocke, instantly she answered. Madame, if you please to bestow -a new Smocke on me, were it to runne thorow the fire for you, or any -businesse of farre greater danger, you onely have the power to command -me, and I will doe it. I will not (said <i>Piccarda</i>) urge thee to -any dangerous action, but onely to lodge in my bed this night with a -man, and give him courteous entertainement, who shall reward thee -liberally for it. But have an especiall care that thou speake not one -word, for feare thou shouldst be heard by my Brethren, who (as thou -knowest) lodge so neere by: doe this, and then demaund thy Smocke of -me. Madame (quoth <i>Ciutazza</i>) if it were to lye with sixe men, rather -then one; if you say the word, it shall be done.</p> - -<p>When night was come, the Provoste also came according to appointment, -even when the two brethren were in their lodging, -where they easily heard his entrance, as <i>Piccarda</i> (being present -with them) had informed them. In went the Provoste without any -candle, or making the least noise to be heard, & being in <i>Piccardaes</i> -Chamber, went to bed: <i>Ciutazza</i> tarrying not long from him, but -(as her Mistresse had instructed her) she went to bed likewise, not -speaking any word at all, and the Provoste, imagining to have her -there, whom he so highly affected, fell to imbracing and kissing <i>Ciutazza</i>, -who was as forward in the same manner to him, and there for -a while I intend to leave them.</p> - -<p>When <i>Piccarda</i> had performed this hot piece of businesse, she referred -the effecting of the remainder to her Brethren, in such sort as -it was compacted betweene them. Faire and softly went the two -brethren forth of their Chamber, and going to the Market place, -Fortune was more favourable to them then they could wish, in accomplishing -the issue of their intent. For the heat being somwhat tedious, -the Lord Bishop was walking abroad very late, with purpose -to visit the Brethren at the Widdowes house, because he tooke great -delight in their company, as being good Schollers, and endued with -other singular parts beside. Meeting with them in the open Market -place, he acquainted them with his determination; whereof they -were not a little joyfull, it jumping so justly with their intent.</p> - -<p>Being come to the Widdowes house, they passed through a small -nether Court, where lights stood ready to welcome him thither; -and entring into a goodly Hall, there was store of good wine and -banquetting, which the Bishop accepted in very thankefull manner: -and courteous complement being overpassed, one of the Brethren, -thus spake. My good Lord, seeing it hath pleased you to honour our -poore Widdowed Sisters house with your presence, for which wee shall -thanke you while we live: We would intreate one favour more of you, -onely but to see a sight which we will shew you. The Lord Bishop was -well contented with the motion: so the Brethren conducting him -by the hand, brought him into their Sisters Chamber, where the -the Provoste was in bed with <i>Ciutazza</i>, both soundly sleeping, but -enfolded in his armes, as wearied (belike) with their former wantonning, -and whereof his age had but little need.</p> - -<p>The Courtaines being close drawne about the bed, although the -season was exceeding hot, they having lighted Torches in their -hands; drew open the Curtaines, and shewed the Bishop his Provoste, -close snugging betweene the armes of <i>Ciutazza</i>. Upon a -sudden the Provoste awaked, and seeing so great a light, as also so -many people about him: shame and feare so daunted him, that hee -shrunke downe into the bed, and hid his head. But the Bishop being -displeased at a sight so unseemely, made him to discover his head -againe, to see whom he was in bed withall. Now the poore Provoste -perceiving the Gentlewomans deceite, and the proper hansome -person so sweetly embracing him: it made him so confounded -with shame, as he had not the power to utter one word: but -having put on his cloathes by the Bishops command, hee sent him -(under sufficient guard) to his Pallace, to suffer due chastisement for -his sinne committed; and afterward he desired to know, by what -meanes hee became so favoured of <i>Ciutazza</i>, the whole Historie -whereof, the two brethren related at large to him.</p> - -<p>When the Bishop had heard all the discourse, highly he commended -the wisedome of the Gentlewoman, and worthy assistance of -her brethren, who contemning to soile their hands in the blood of a -Priest, rather sought to shame him as hee deserved. The Bishop -enjoyned him a pennance of repentance for forty dayes after, but -love and disdaine made him weepe nine and forty: Moreover, it -was a long while after, before he durst be seene abroad. But when -he came to walke the streets, the Boyes would point their fingers at -him, saying. Behold the Provoste that lay with <i>Ciutazza</i>: Which -was such a wearisome life to him, that he became (well neere) distracted -in his wits. In this manner the honest Gentlewoman discharged -her dutie, and rid her selfe of the Provosts importunity: -<i>Ciutazza</i> had a merry night of it, and a new Smocke also for her labour.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Three_pleasant_Companions_plaide_a_merry_pranke_with_a_Judge_belonging" id="Three_pleasant_Companions_plaide_a_merry_pranke_with_a_Judge_belonging"><i>Three pleasant Companions, plaide a merry pranke with a Judge (belonging -to the Marquesate of</i> Ancona) <i>at</i> Florence, <i>at such time as -he sate on the Bench, and hearing criminall causes.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Fift Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Giving admonition, that for the managing of publique affaires, no other -persons are or ought to be appointed, but such as be honest, and -meet to sit on the seate of Authority.</i></h4> - - -<p>No sooner had Madam <i>Æmillia</i> finished her Novell, wherein, -the excellent wisedome of <i>Piccarda</i>, for so worthily -punishing the luxurious old Provoste, had generall commendations -of the whole Assembly: but the Queene, looking on -<i>Philostratus</i>, said. I command you next to supply the place: whereto -he made answere, that hee was both ready and willing, and then -thus began. Honourable Ladies, the merry Gentleman, so lately remembred -by Madame <i>Eliza</i>, being named <i>Maso del Saggio</i>; causeth -me to passe over an intended Tale, which I had resolved on when it came -to my turne: to report another concerning him, and two men more, -his friendly Companions, which although it may appeare to you somewhat -unpleasing, in regard of a little grosse and unmannerly behaviour: -yet it will move merriment without any offence, and that is the -maine reason why I relate it.</p> - -<p>It is not unknowne to you, partly by intelligence from our reverend -predecessours, as also some understanding of your owne, that -many time have resorted to our City of <i>Florence</i>, Potestates and -Officers, belonging to the Marquesate of <i>Anconia</i>; who commonly -were men of lowe spirit, and their lives so wretched and penurious, -as they rather deserved to be tearmed Misers, then men. And in -regard of this their naturall covetousnesse and misery, the Judges -would bring also in their company, such Scribes or Notaries, as being -paralelde with their Masters: they all seemed like Swaines come -from the Plough, or bred up in some Coblers quality, rather then -Schollers, or Students of Law.</p> - -<p>At one time (above all the rest) among other Potestates and Judges, -there came an especiall man, as pickt out of purpose, who was -named <i>Messer Niccolao da San Lepidio</i>, who (at the first beholding) -looked rather like a Tinker, then any Officer in authority. This -hansome man (among the rest) was deputed to heare criminall -causes. And, as often it happeneth, that Citizens, although no businesse -inviteth them to Judiciall Courts, yet they still resort thither, -sometimes accidentally: So it fortuned, that <i>Maso del Saggio</i>, being -one morning in search of an especiall friend, went to the Court-house, -and being there, observed in what manner <i>Messer Niccolao</i> -was seated; who looking like some strange Fowle, lately come forth -of a farre Countrey; he began to survay him the more seriously, -even from the head to the foot, as we use to say.</p> - -<p>And albeit he saw his Gowne furred with Miniver, as also the -hood about his necke, a Penne and Inkehorne hanging at his girdle, -and one skirt of his Garment longer then the other, with more misshapen -sights about him, farre unfitting for a man of so civill profession: -yet he spyed one error extraordinary, the most notable (in -his opinion) that ever he had seene before. Namely, a paultry paire -of Breeches, wickedly made, and worse worne, hanging downe so -lowe as halfe his legge, even as he sate upon the Bench, yet cut so -sparingly of the Cloath, that they gaped wide open before, as a -wheele-barrow might have full entrance allowed it. This strange -sight was so pleasing to him; as leaving off further search of his -friend, and scorning to have such a spectacle alone by himselfe: hee -went upon another Inquisition; Namely, for two other merry -Lads like himselfe, the one being called <i>Ribi</i>, and the other <i>Matteuzzo</i>, -men of the same mirth-full disposition as he was, and therefore -the fitter for his Company.</p> - -<p>After he had met with them, these were his salutations: My honest -Boyes, if ever you did me any kindnesse, declare it more effectually now, -in accompanying me to the Court-house, where you shall behold such -a singular spectacle, as (I am sure) you never yet saw the like. Forthwith -they went along altogether, and being come to the Court-house, he -shewed them the Judges hansome paire of Breeches, hanging down -in such base and beastly manner; that (being as yet farre off from -the Bench) their hearts did ake with extreamity of laughter. But -when they came neere to the seat whereon <i>Messer Niccolao</i> sate, -they plainely perceived, that it was very easie to be crept under, and -withall, that the board whereon he set his feet, was rotten and broken, -so that it was no difficult matter, to reach it, and pull it downe -as a man pleased, and let him fall bare Breecht to the ground. -Cheare up your spirits (my hearts) quoth <i>Maso</i>, and if your longing be -like to mine; we will have yonder Breeches a good deale lower, for I see -how it may be easily done.</p> - -<p>Laying their heads together, plotting and contriving severall -wayes, which might be the likelyest to compasse their intent: each -of them had his peculiar appointment, to undertake the businesse -without fayling, and it was to be performed the next morning. At -the houre assigned, they met there againe, and finding the Court -well filled with people, the Plaintiffes and Defendants earnestly -pleading: <i>Matteuzzo</i> (before any body could descry him) was cunningly -crept under the Bench, and lay close by the board whereon -the Judge placed his feete. Then stept in <i>Maso</i> on the right hand -of <i>Messer Niccolao</i>, and tooke fast hold on his Gowne before; the -like did <i>Ribi</i> on the left hand, in all respects answerable to the other. -Oh my Lord Judge (cryed <i>Maso</i> out aloud) I humbly intreat you for -charities sake, before this pilfering knave escape away from hence; that -I may have Justice against him, for stealing my drawing-over stockeings, -which he stoutly denyeth, yet mine owne eyes beheld the deed, it -being now not above fifteene dayes since, when first I bought them for -mine owne use.</p> - -<p>Worthy Lord Judge (cryed <i>Ribi</i>, on the other side) doe not beleeve -what he saith, for he is a paltry lying fellow, and because hee knew I -came hither to make my complaint for a Male or Cloakebag which he -stole from me: hee urgeth this occasion for a paire of drawing Stockeings, -which he delivered me with his owne hands. If your Lordship -will not credit me, I can produce as witnesses, <i>Trecco</i> the Shoemaker, -with <i>Monna Grassa</i> the Souse-seller, and he that sweepes the Church -of <i>Santa Maria a Verzaia</i>, who saw him when he came posting hither. -<i>Maso</i> haling and tugging the Judge by the sleeve, would not suffer -him to heare <i>Ribi</i>, but cryed out still for Justice against him, as he did -the like on the contrary side.</p> - -<p>During the time of this their clamourous contending, the Judge -being very willing to heare either party: <i>Matteuzzo</i>, upon a -signe received from the other, which was a word in <i>Masoes</i> pleading, -laide holde on the broken boord, as also on the Judges low-hanging -Breech, plucking at them both so strongly, that they fell -downe immediately, the Breeches being onely tyed but with one -Poynt before. He hearing the boards breaking underneath him, and -such maine pulling at his Breeches; strove (as he sate) to make them -fast before, but the Poynt being broken, and <i>Maso</i> crying in his eare -on the one side, as <i>Ribi</i> did the like in the other; hee was at his -wits end to defend himselfe. My Lord (quoth <i>Maso</i>) you may bee ashamed -that you doe me not Justice, why will you not heare mee, but -wholly lend your eare to mine Adversary? My Lord (said <i>Ribi</i>) never -was Libell preferd into this Court, of such a paltry trifling matter, and -therefore I must, and will have Justice.</p> - -<p>By this time the Judge was dismounted from the Bench, and -stood on the ground, with his slovenly Breeches hanging about his -heeles; <i>Matteuzzo</i> being cunningly stolne away, and undiscovered -by anybody. <i>Ribi</i>, thinking he had shamed the Judge sufficiently, -went away, protesting, that he would declare his cause in the hearing -of a wiser Judge. And <i>Maso</i> forbearing to tugge his Gowne -any longer, in his departing, said. Fare you well Sir, you are not worthy -to be a Magistrate, if you have no more regard of your honour and -honesty, but will put off poore mens suites at your pleasure. So both -went severall wayes, and soone were gone out of publike view.</p> - -<p>The worshipfull Judge <i>Messer Niccolao</i> stood all this while on -the ground; and, in presence of all the beholders, trussed up his -Breeches, as if hee were new risen out of his bed: when better bethinking -himselfe on the matters indifference, he called for the two -men, who contended for the drawing stockings and the Cloake-bag; -but no one could tell what was become of them. Whereupon, -he rapt out a kinde of Judges oath, saying: I will know whether -it be Law or no heere in <i>Florence</i>, to make a Judge sit bare -Breecht on the Bench of Justice, and in the hearing of criminall -Causes; whereat the chiefe Potestate, and all the standers by laughed -heartily.</p> - -<p>Within fewe dayes after, he was informed by some of his especiall -Friends, that this had never happened to him, but onely to testifie, -how understanding the <i>Florentines</i> are, in their ancient constitutions -and customes, to embrace, love and honour, honest, discreet -worthy Judges and Magistrates; Whereas on the contrary, -they as much condemne miserable knaves, fooles, and dolts, who -never merit to have any better entertainment. Wherefore, it would -be best for him, to make no more enquiry after the parties; lest a -worse inconvenience should happen to him.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Bruno_and_Buffalmaco_did_steale_a_young_Brawne_from_Calandrino" id="Bruno_and_Buffalmaco_did_steale_a_young_Brawne_from_Calandrino">Bruno <i>and</i> Buffalmaco, <i>did steale a young Brawne from</i> Calandrino, -<i>and for his recovery thereof, they used a kinde of pretended conjuration, -with Pilles made of Ginger and strong Malmesey. But instead of -this application, they gave him two Pilles of a Dogges Dates, or Dowsets, -confected in Alloes, which he received each after the other; by -meanes whereof they made him beleeve, that hee had robde himselfe. -And for feare they should report this theft to his wife; they made him -to goe buy another Brawne.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Sixt Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is declared, how easily a plaine and simple man may be made a -foole, when he dealeth with crafty companions.</i></h4> - - -<p><i>Philostratus</i> had no sooner concluded his Novell, and the -whole Assembly laughed heartily thereat: but the Queen -gave command to Madame <i>Philomena</i>, that shee should -follow next in order; whereupon thus shee began. Worthy Ladies, -as <i>Philostratus</i>, by calling to memorie the name of <i>Maso del Saggio</i>, -hath contented you with another merry Novell concerning him: in the -same manner must I intreat you, to remember once againe <i>Calandrino</i> -and his subtle Consorts, by a pretty tale which I meane to tell you; how, -and in what manner they were revenged on him, for going to seeke the -invisible Stone.</p> - -<p>Needlesse were any fresh relation to you, what manner of people -those three men were, <i>Calandrino, Bruno,</i> and <i>Buffalmaco,</i> because -already you have had sufficient understanding of them. And -therefore, as an induction to my discourse, I must tell you, that <i>Calandrino</i> -had a small Country-house, in a Village some-what neere -to <i>Florence</i>, which came to him by the marriage of his Wife. Among -other Cattle and Poultry, which he kept there in store, hee -had a young Boare readie fatted for Brawne, whereof yearly he used -to kill one for his owne provision; and alwaies in the month of -December, he and his wife resorted to their village house, to have -a Brawne both killed and salted.</p> - -<p>It came to passe at this time concerning my Tale, that the Woman -being somewhat crazie and sickly, by her Husbands unkinde -usage, whereof you heard so lately; <i>Calandrino</i> went alone to the -killing of his Boare, which comming to the hearing of <i>Bruno</i> and -<i>Buffalmaco</i>, and that the Woman could by no meanes be there: to -passe away the time a little in merriment, they went to a friendlie -Companion of theirs, an honest joviall Priest, dwelling not farre -off from <i>Calandrinoes</i> Countrey house.</p> - -<p>The same morning as the Boare was kilde, they all three went -thither, and <i>Calandrino</i> seeing them in the Priests companie: bad -them all heartily welcome; and to acquaint them with his good -Husbandry, hee shewed them his house, and the Boare where it -hung. They perceyving it to be faire and fat, knowing also, that -<i>Calandrino</i> intended to salt it for his owne store, <i>Bruno</i> saide unto -him: Thou art an Asse <i>Calandrino</i>, sell thy Brawne, and let us make -merrie with the money: then let thy wife know no otherwise, but that -it was stolne from thee, by those theeves which continually haunt country -houses, especially in such scattering Villages.</p> - -<p>Oh mine honest friends, answered <i>Calandrino</i>, your counsell is not -to be followed, neither is my wife so easie to be perswaded: this were the -readiest way to make your house a hell, and she to become the Master-Divell: -therefore talke no further, for flatly I will not doe it. Albeit -they laboured him very earnestly, yet all proved not to anie purpose: -onely he desired them to suppe with him, but in so colde a -manner, as they denyed him, and parted thence from him. As they -walked on the way, <i>Bruno</i> saide to <i>Buffalmaco</i>. Shall we three (this -night) rob him of his Brawne? Yea marry (quoth <i>Buffalmaco</i>) how -is it to be done? I have (saide <i>Bruno</i>) alreadie found the meanes to effect -it, if he take it not from the place where last we saw it. Let us doe -it then (answered <i>Buffalmaco</i>) why should we not do it? Sir Domine -heere and we, will make good cheare with it among our selves. The -nimble Priest was as forward as the best; and the match being fully -agreed on, <i>Bruno</i> thus spake. My delicate Sir Domine, Art and -cunning must be our maine helps: for thou knowest <i>Buffalmaco</i>, what -a covetous wretch <i>Calandrino</i> is, glad and readie to drink alwaies on -other mens expences: let us go take him with us to the Tavern, where -the Priest (for his owne honour and reputation) shall offer to make paiment -of the whole reckoning, without receiving a farthing of his, -whereof he will not be a little joyfull, so shall we bring to passe the rest -of the businesse, because there is no body in the house, but onely himselfe: -for he is best at ease without company.</p> - -<p>As <i>Bruno</i> had propounded, so was it accordingly performed, & -when <i>Calandrino</i> perceyved, that the Priest would suffer none to -pay, but himselfe, he dranke the more freely; and when there was -no neede at all, tooke his Cuppes couragiously, one after another. -Two or three houres of the night were spent, before they parted -from the Taverne, <i>Calandrino</i> going directly home to his house, -and instantly to bed, without any other supper, imagining that he -had made fast his doore, which (indeede) he left wide open: sleeping -soundly, without suspition of any harme intended unto him. -<i>Buffalmaco</i> and <i>Bruno</i> went and supt with the Priest, and so soone as -supper was ended, they tooke certaine Engines, for their better entering -into <i>Calandrinoes</i> house, and so went on to effect theyr purpose. -Finding the doore standing readie open, they entered in, -tooke the Brawne, carried it with them to the Priests house, and afterward -went all to bed.</p> - -<p>When <i>Calandrino</i> had well slept after his Wine, he arose in the -morning, and being descended downe the staires, finding the street -doore wide open, he looked for the Brawne, but it was gone. Enquiring -of the neighbours dwelling neere about him, hee could -heare no tydings of his Brawne, but became the wofullest man in -the world, telling every one that his Brawne was stolne. <i>Bruno</i> and -<i>Buffalmaco</i> being risen in the morning, they went to visite <i>Calandrino</i>, -to heare how he tooke the losse of his Brawne: and hee no -sooner had a sight of them, but he called them to him; and with the -teares running downe his cheekes, sayde: Ah my deare friendes, I -am robde of my Brawne. <i>Bruno</i> stepping closely to him, sayde in his -eare: It is wonderfull, that once in thy life time thou canst bee wise. -How? answered <i>Calandrino</i>, I speake to you in good earnest. Speake so -still in earnest (replied <i>Bruno</i>) and cry it out so loud as thou canst, then -let who list beleeve it to be true.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> stampt and fretted exceedingly, saying: As I am a -true man to God, my Prince, and Countrey, I tell thee truly, that my -Brawne is stolne. Say so still I bid thee (answered <i>Bruno</i>) and let all -the world beleeve thee, if they list to do so, for I will not. Wouldst thou, -(quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) have me damne my selfe to the divell? I see thou -dost not credit what I say: but would I were hanged by the necke, if it -be not true, that my Brawne is stolne. How can it possible be, replyed -<i>Bruno</i>? Did not I see it in thy house yesternight? Wouldst thou have -me beleeve, that it is flowne away? Although it is not flowne away -(quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) yet I am certain, that it is stolne away: for which -I am weary of my life, because I dare not go home to mine owne house, -in regard my wife will never beleeve it; and yet if she should credite it, -we are sure to have no peace for a twelvemonths space.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i>, seeming as if he were more then halfe sorrowfull, yet supporting -still his former jesting humor, saide: Now trust mee <i>Calandrino</i>, -if it be so; they that did it are much too blame. If it be so? answered -<i>Calandrino</i>, Belike thou wouldst have mee blaspheme Heaven, -and all the Saints therein: I tell thee once againe <i>Bruno</i>, that this -last night my Brawne was stolne. Be patient good <i>Calandrino</i>, replyed -<i>Buffalmaco</i>, and if thy Brawne be stolne from thee, there are means -enow to get it againe. Meanes enow to get it againe? said <i>Calandrino</i>, -I would faine heare one likely one, and let all the rest go by. I am -sure <i>Calandrino</i>, answered <i>Buffalmaco</i>, thou art verily perswaded, -that no Theefe came from <i>India</i>, to steale thy Brawne from thee: in -which respect, it must needes then be some of thy Neighbours: whom -if thou couldst lovingly assemble together, I knowe an experiment to -be made with Bread and Cheese, whereby the party that hath it, will -quickly be discovered.</p> - -<p>I have heard (quoth <i>Bruno</i>) of such an experiment, and helde it -to be infallible; but it extendeth onely unto persons of Gentilitie, -whereof there are but few dwelling heere about, and in the case of -stealing a Brawne, it is doubtfull to invite them, neither can there -be any certainty of their comming. I confesse what you say, aunswered -<i>Buffalmaco</i>, to be very true: but then in this matter, so nerely -concerning us to be done, and for a deare Friend, what is your -advice? I would have Pilles made of Ginger, compounded with -your best and strongest <i>Malmesey</i>, then let the ordinary sort of people -be invited (for such onely are most to be mistrusted) and they -will not faile to come, because they are utterly ignorant of our intention. -Besides, the Pilles may as well bee hallowed and consecrated, -as bread and cheese on the like occasion. Indeede you say -true (replyed <i>Buffalmaco</i>) but what is the opinion of <i>Calandrino</i>? -Is he willing to have this tryall made, or no? Yes, by all meanes, -answered <i>Calandrino</i>, for gladly I would know who hath stolne -my Brawne, and your good words have (more then halfe) comforted -me already in this case.</p> - -<p>Well then (quoth <i>Bruno</i>) I will take the paines to go to <i>Florence</i>, to -provide all things necessarie for this secret service; but I must bee furnished -with money to effect it. <i>Calandrino</i> had some forty shillings -then about him, which he delivered to <i>Bruno</i>, who presently went -to <i>Florence</i>, to a friend of his an Apothecarie, of whom he bought -a pound of white Ginger, which hee caused him to make uppe in -small Pilles: and two other beside of a Dogges-dates or Dowsets, -confected all over with strong Aloes, yet well moulded in Sugare, -as all the rest were: and because they should the more easily bee -knowne from the other, they were spotted with Gold, in verie formall -and Physicall manner. He bought moreover, a big Flaggon -of the best Malmesey, returning backe with all these things to <i>Calandrino</i>, -and directing him in this order.</p> - -<p>You must put some friend in trust, to invite your Neighbors (especially -such as you suspect) to a breakfast in the morning: and because it -is done as a feast in kindnesse, they will come to you the more willingly. -This night will I and <i>Buffalmaco</i> take such order, that the Pilles -shall have the charge imposed on them, and then wee will bring them -hither againe in the morning: and I my selfe (for your sake) will deliver -them to your guests, and performe whatsoever is to bee sayde or -done. On the next morning, a goodly company being assembled, -under a faire Elme before the Church; as well young <i>Florentynes</i> -(who purposely came to make themselves merry) as neighbouring -Husbandmen of the Village: <i>Bruno</i> was to begin the service, with -the Pils in a faire Cup, and <i>Buffalmaco</i> followed him with another -Cup, to deliver the wine out of the Flaggon, all the company beeing -set round, as in a circle; and <i>Bruno</i> with <i>Buffalmaco</i> being in the -midst of them, <i>Bruno</i> thus spake.</p> - -<p>Honest friends, it is fit that I should acquaint you with the occasion, -why we are thus met together, and in this place: because if anie thing -may seeme offensive to you; afterward you shall make no complaint of -me. From <i>Calandrino</i> (our loving friend heere present) yesternight -there was a new-kild fat Brawne taken, but who hath done the deede, -as yet he knoweth not; and because none other, but some one (or more) -heere among us, must needs offend in this case: he, desiring to understand -who they be, would have each man to receive one of these Pilles, -and afterward to drinke of this Wine; assuring you all, that whosoever -stole the Brawne hence, cannot be able to swallow the Pill: for it wil be -so extreme bitter in his mouth, as it will enforce him to Coughe and -spet extraordinarily. In which respect, before such a notorious shame -be received, and in so goodly an assembly, as now are heere present: it -were much better for him or them that have the Brawne, to confesse it -in private to this honest Priest, and I will abstaine from urging anie -such publike proofe.</p> - -<p>Every one there present answered, that they were well contented -both to eate and drinke, and let the shame fall where it deserved; -whereupon, <i>Bruno</i> appointing them how they should sit, and -placing <i>Calandrino</i> as one among them: he began his counterfeite -exorcisme, giving each man a Pill, and <i>Buffalmaco</i> a Cup of Wine -after it. But when he came to <i>Calandrino</i>, hee tooke one of them, -which was made of the Dogges dates or Dowsets, and delivering -it into his hand, presently hee put it into his mouth and chewed it. -So soone as his tongue tasted the bitter Aloes, he began to coughe -and spet extreamly, as being utterly unable, to endure the bitternesse -and noysome smell. The other men that had receyved the -Pils, beganne to gaze one upon another, to see whose behaviour -should discover him; and <i>Bruno</i> having not (as yet) delivered Pils -to them all, proceeded on still in his businesse, as seeming not to -heare any coughing, till one behinde him, saide. What meaneth -<i>Calandrino</i> by this spetting and coughing?</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i> sodainely turning him about, and seeing <i>Calandrino</i> to -cough and spet in such sort, saide to the rest. Be not too rash (honest -Friends) in judging of any man, some other matter (then the Pille) -may procure this Coughing, wherefore he shall receive another, the better -to cleare your beleefe concerning him. He having put the second -prepared Pill into his mouth, while <i>Bruno</i> went to serve the rest of -the Guests: if the first was exceeding bitter to his taste, this other -made it a great deale worse, for teares streamed forth of his eyes as -bigge as Cherry-stones, and champing and chewing the Pill, as hoping -it would overcome his coughing; he coughed and spette the -more violently, and in grosser manner then he did before, nor did -they give him any wine to helpe it.</p> - -<p><i>Buffalmaco, Bruno,</i> and the whole company, perceiving how he -continued still his coughing and spetting; saide all with one voyce, -That <i>Calandrino</i> was the Theefe to himselfe: and gave him manie -grosse speeches beside, all departing home into their houses, very -much displeased and angry with him. After they were gone, none -remained with him but the Priest, <i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i>, who thus -spake to <i>Calandrino</i>. I did ever thinke, that thou wast the theefe thy -selfe, yet thou imputedst thy robbery to some other, for feare we should -once drinke freely of thy purse, as thou hast done many times of ours. -<i>Calandrino</i>, who had not yet ended his coughing and spetting, -sware many bitter Oathes, that his Brawne was stolne from him. -Talke so long as thou wilt, quoth <i>Buffalmaco</i>, thy knavery is both -knowne and seene, and well thou mayst be ashamed of thy selfe. <i>Calandrino</i> -hearing this, grew desperately angry; and to incense him -more, <i>Bruno</i> thus pursued the matter.</p> - -<p>Hear me <i>Calandrino</i>, for I speake to thee in honest earnest, there -was a man in the company, who did eate and drinke heere among thy -neighbours, and plainly told me, that thou keptst a young Lad heere to -do thee service, feeding him with such victuals as thou couldst spare, -by him thou didst send away thy Brawne, to one that bought it of thee -for foure Crownes, onely to cousen thy poore wife and us. Canst thou -not yet learne to leave thy mocking and scorning? Thou hast forgotte, -how thou broughtst us to the plaine of <i>Mugnone</i>, to seeke for black invisible -stones: which having found, thou concealedst them to thy selfe, -stealing home invisibly before us, and making us follow like fooles after -thee.</p> - -<p>Now likewise, by horrible lying Oathes, and perjured protestations, -thou wouldst make us to beleeve, that the Brawne (which thou hast -cunningly sold for ready money) was stolne from thee out of thy house, -when thou art onely the Theefe to thy selfe, as by that excellent rule of -Art (which never faileth) hath plainly, to thy shame, appeared. Wee -being so well acquainted with thy delusions, and knowing them perfectly; -now do plainly tell thee, that we mean not to be foold any more. -Nor is it unknowne to thee, what paines wee have taken, in making -this singular peece of proofe. Wherefore we inflict this punishment on -thee, that thou shalt bestow on this honest Priest and us, two couple of -Capons, and a Flaggon of Wine, or else we will discover this knavery of -thine to thy Wife.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> perceiving, that all his protestations could winne no -credit with them, who had now the Law remaining in their owne -hands, and purposed to deale with him as they pleased: apparently -saw, that sighing and sorrow did nothing availe him. Moreover, -to fall into his wives tempestuous stormes of chiding, would bee -worse to him then racking or torturing: he gladly therefore gave -them money, to buy the two couple of Capons and Wine, being -heartily contented likewise, that hee was so well delivered from -them. So the merry Priest, <i>Bruno</i>, and <i>Buffalmaco</i>, having taken -good order for salting the Brawne; closely carried it with them to -<i>Florence</i>, leaving <i>Calandrino</i> to complaine of his losse, and well requited, -for mocking them with the invisible stones.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="A_young_Gentleman_being_a_Scholler_fell_in_love_with_a_Ladie_named" id="A_young_Gentleman_being_a_Scholler_fell_in_love_with_a_Ladie_named"><i>A young Gentleman being a Scholler, fell in love with a Ladie, named</i> -Helena, <i>she being a Widdow, and addicted in affection to another -Gentleman. One whole night in cold winter, she caused the Scholler -to expect her comming, in an extreame frost and snow. In revenge -whereof, by his imagined Art and skill, he made her to stand -naked on the top of a Tower, the space of a whole day, and in the hot -moneth of July, to be Sun-burnt and bitten with Waspes and Flies.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Seventh Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Serving as an admonition to all Ladies and Gentlewomen, not to mock -or scorne Gentlemen-Schollers, when they make meanes of love to -them; Except they intend to seeke their owne shame, by disgracing -them.</i></h4> - - -<p>Greatly did the Ladies commend Madame <i>Philomenaes</i> -Novell, laughing heartily at poore <i>Calandrino</i>, yet grieving -withall, that he should be so knavishly cheated, not -onely of his Brawne, but two couple of Capons, and a Flaggon of -Wine beside. But the whole discourse being ended; the Queene -commanded Madame <i>Pampinea</i>, to follow next with her Novell, -and presently she thus began. It hapneth oftentimes, (bright beauties) -that mockery falleth onto him, that intended the same unto another: -And therefore I am of opinion, that there is very little wisedom -declared on him or her, who taketh delight in mocking any person. -I must needs confesse, that we have smiled at many mockeries and deceits, -related in those excellent Novels, which we have already heard; -without any due revenge returned, but onely in this last of silly <i>Calandrino</i>. -Wherefore, it is now my determination, to urge a kind of compassionate -apprehension, upon a very just retribution, happening to a -Gentlewoman of our Citie, because her scorne fell deservedly upon her -selfe, remaining mocked, and to the perill of her life. Let me then assure -you, that your diligent attention may redound to your benefit, because -if you keepe your selves (henceforward) from being scorned by others: -you shall expresse the greater wisedome, and be the better warned -by their mishaps.</p> - -<p>As yet there are not many yeares over-past, since there dwelt in -<i>Florence</i>, a young Lady, descended of Noble parentage, very beautifull, -of sprightly courage, and sufficiently abounding in the goods -of Fortune, she being named Madame <i>Helena</i>. Her delight was -to live in the estate of Widdow-hood, desiring to match her selfe -no more in marriage, because she bare affection to a gallant young -Gentleman, whom she had made her private election of, and with -whom (having excluded all other amorous cares and cogitations) -by meanes of her Waiting-woman, she had divers meetings, and -kinde conferences.</p> - -<p>It chanced at the verie same time, another young Gentleman of -our Citie, called <i>Reniero</i>, having long studied in the Schooles at -<i>Paris</i>, returned home to <i>Florence</i>, not to make sale of his Learning -and experience, as many doe: but to understand the reason of -things, as also the causes and effects of them, which is mervailously -fitting for any Gentleman. Being greatly honoured and esteemed -of everyone, as well for his courteous carriage towards all in -generall, as for his knowledge and excellent parts: he lived more -like a familiar Citizen, then in the nature of a Courtly Gentleman, -albeit he was choisely respected in either estate.</p> - -<p>But, as oftentimes it commeth to passe, that such as are endued -with the best judgement and understanding in naturall occasions, -are soonest caught and intangled in the snares of Love: so fel it out -with our Scholler <i>Reniero</i>, who being invited to a solemne Feast, -in company of other his especiall Friends; this Lady <i>Helena</i>, attyred -in her blacke Garments (as Widowes commonly use to wear) -was likewise there a Guest. His eye observing her beauty and gracious -demeanour, she seemed in his judgement, to be a Woman so -compleate and perfect, as he had never seene her equall before: & -therefore, he accounted the man more then fortunate, that was -worthy to embrace her in his armes. Continuing this amorous observation -of her from time to time, and knowing withall, that rare -and excellent things are not easily obtained, but by painefull study, -labour, and endeavour: hee resolved with himselfe constantly, to -put in practise all his best parts of industry, onely to honour and -please her, and attaining to her contentation, it would be the means -to winne her love, and compasse thereby his hearts desire.</p> - -<p>The young Lady, who fixed not her eyes on inferiour subjects (but -esteemed her selfe above ordinary reach or capacity) could moove -them artificially, as curious women well know how to doe, looking -on every side about her, yet not in a gadding or grosse manner; -for she was not ignorant in such darting glaunces, as proceeded -from an enflamed affection, which appearing plainely in <i>Reniero</i>; -with a pretty smile, shee said to her selfe. I am not come hither this -day in vaine; for, if my judgement faile me not, I thinke I have caught -a Woodcocke by the Bill. And lending him a cunning looke or two, -queintly caried with the corner of her eye; she gave him a kinde of -perswading apprehension, that her heart was the guide to her eye. -And in this artificiall Schoole-tricke of hers, shee carryed therewith -another consideration, to wit, that the more other eyes fedde themselves -on her perfections, and were (well-neere) lost in them beyond -recovery: so much the greater reason had he to account his -fortune beyond comparison, that was the sole master of her heart, -and had her love at his command.</p> - -<p>Our witty Scholler having set aside his Philosophicall considerations, -strove how he might best understand her carriage toward -him, and beleeving that she beheld him with pleasing regards; hee -learned to know the house where shee dwelt, passing daily by the -doore divers times, under colour of some more serious occasions: -wherein the Lady very proudly gloried, in regard of the reasons before -alleadged, and seemed to affoord him lookes of good liking. -Being led thus with a hopefull perswasion, hee founde the meanes to -gaine acquaintance with her waiting-woman, revealing to her his -intire affection, desiring her to worke for him in such sort with her -Lady, that his service might be gracious in her acceptance. The -Gentlewoman made him a very willing promise, and immediately -did his errand to her Lady; who heard her with no small pride and -squemishnesse, and breaking forth into a scornefull laughter, thus -she spake.</p> - -<p><i>Ancilla</i> (for so she was named) dost thou not observe, how this Scholler -is come to lose all the wit heere, which he has studyed so long for in the -University of <i>Paris</i>? Let us make him our onely Table argument, and -seeing his folly soareth so high, we will feed him with such a dyet as hee -deserveth. Yet when thou speakest next with him, tell him, that I affect -him more then he can doe me: but it becommeth me to be carefull -of mine honour, and to walke with an untainted brow, as other Ladies -and Gentlewomen doe: which he is not to mislike, if he be so wise as he -maketh shew of, but rather will the more commend me. Alas good -Lady lack-wit, little did she understand (faire assembly) how dangerous -a case it is to deale with Schollers.</p> - -<p>At his next meeting with the waiting woman, shee delivered the -message, as her Lady had command her, whereof poore <i>Reniero</i> was -so joyfull: that hee pursued his love-suite the more earnestly, and -began to write letters, send gifts, and tokens, all which were still received, -yet without any other answere to give hope, but onely in -generall, and thus shee dallied with him a long while. In the end, -she discovered this matter to her secret chosen friend, who fell suddenly -sicke of the head-ake, onely through meere conceit of jealousie: -which she perceiving, and grieving to be suspected without any -cause, especially by him whom shee esteemed above all other; shee -intended to rid him quickely of that Idle disease. And being more -and more solicited by the Scholler, she sent him word by her maide -<i>Ancilla</i>, that (as yet) she could find no convenient opportunity, to -yeeld him such assurance, as hee should not any way be distrustfull -of her love.</p> - -<p>But the Feast of Christmas was now neere at hand, which afforded -leisures much more hopefull, then any other formerly passed. -And therefore, the next night after the first Feasting day, if he pleased -to walke in the open Court of her house: she would soone send -for him, into a place much better beseeming, and where they might -freely converse together.</p> - -<p>Now was our Scholler the onely jocond man of the world, and -failed not the time assigned him, but went unto the Ladies house, -where <i>Ancilla</i> was ready to give him entertainment, conducting -him into the base Court, where she lockt him up fast, untill her Lady -should send for him. This night shee had privately sent for her -friend also, and sitting merrily at supper with him, told him, what -welcome she had given the Scholler, and how she further meant to -use him, saying. Now Sir, consider with yourselfe, what hot affection -I beare to him, of whom you became so fondly jealous. The which -words were very welcome to him, and made him extraordinarily -joyful; desiring to see them as effectually performed, as they appeared -to him by her protestations.</p> - -<p>Heere you are to understand (Gracious Ladies) that according -to the season of the yeare, a great snow had falne the day before, so -as the whole Court was covered therewith, and being an extreame -frost upon it, our Scholler could not boast of any warme walking, -when the teeth quivered in his head with cold, as a Dog could not -be more discourteously used: yet hope of enjoying Loves recompence -at length, made him to support all this injury with admirable -patience.</p> - -<p>Within a while after, Madame <i>Helena</i> said to her friend. Walke -with me (deare heart) into my Chamber, and there at a secret little -window, I shall shew thee what he doth, that drove thee to such a suspition -of me, and we shall heare beside, what answere he will give my maide -<i>Ancilla</i>, whom I will send to comfort him in his coldnesse.</p> - -<p>When she had so said, they went to the appointed chamber window, -where they could easily see him, but he not them: and then -they heard <i>Ancilla</i> also, calling to him forth of another windowe, -saying. Signior <i>Reniero</i>, my Lady is the wofullest woman in the -world, because (as yet) she cannot come to you, in regard that one of -her brethren came this evening to visite her, and held her with much -longer discourse then she expected: whereby she was constrained to invite -him to sup with her, and yet he is not gone; but shortly I hope hee -will, and then expect her comming presently; till when, she entreateth -your gentle sufferance.</p> - -<p>Poore <i>Reniero</i>, our over-credulous Scholler, whose vehement affection -to Madame <i>Helena</i>, so hood-winkt the sight of his understanding, -as he could not be distrustfull of any guilt; returned this -answere to <i>Ancilla</i>. Say to your Lady that I am bound in duty, to attend -the good houre of her leisure, without so much as the very least -prejudicate conceite in me: Neverthelesse, entreat her, to let it bee so -soone as she possibly may, because here is miserable walking, and it beginneth -againe to snow extreamely. <i>Ancilla</i> making fast the Casement, -went presently to bed; when <i>Helena</i> spake thus to her amorous -friend. What saist thou now? Doest thou thinke that I loved -him, as thou wast affraid of? if I did, he should never walke thus in the -frost and snow. So, away went they likewise from their close gazing -window, and spent wanton dalliances together, laughing, and deriding -(with many bitter taunts and jests) the lamentable condition -of poore <i>Reniero</i>.</p> - -<p>About the Court walked hee numberlesse times, finding such -exercises as he could best devise, to compasse warmth in any manner: -no seate or shelter had he any where, either to ease himselfe by -sitting downe a while, or keepe him from the snow, falling continually -on him, which made him bestow many curses on the Ladies -Brother, for his so long tarrying with her, as beleeving him verily -to be in the house, else she would (long before) have admitted his -entrance, but therein his hope was meerely deceived. It grew now -to be about the houre of midnight, and <i>Helena</i> had delighted her -selfe with her friend extraordinarily, til at last she spake to him. -What is thine opinion of my amourous Scholler? Which dost thou imagine -to be the greatest, either his sense and judgement, or the affection -I beare to him? Is not this cold sufferance of this, able to quench the -violent heate of his loves extremitie, and having so much snow broth -to helpe it? Beleeve me (sweet Lady) quoth her friend, as hee is a -man, and a learned Scholler, I pitty that he should bee thus ungently -dealt withall: but as he is my rivall and loves enemy, I cannot allow -him the least compassion, resting the more confidently assured of your -love to me, which I will alwayes esteeme most precious.</p> - -<p>When they had spent a long while in this or the like conference, -with infinite sweet kisses and embraces intermixed; then she began -againe in this manner. Deare love (quoth she) cast thy Cloake about -thee, as I intend to doe with my night mantle, and let us step to the -little window once more, to see whether the flaming fire, which burned -in the Schollers brest (as daily avouched to me in his love letters) be as -yet extinct or no. So going to the window againe, and looking -downe into the Court; there they saw the Scholler dancing in the -snow, to the cold tune of his teeths quivering and chattering, and -clapping his armes about his body, which was no pleasing melody -to him. How thinkest thou now sweet heart (saide shee) cannot I -make a man daunce without the sound of a Taber, or of a Bagpipe? Yes -beleeve me Lady (quoth he) I plaine perceive you can, and would be very -lothe, that you should exercise your cunning on me. Nay, said shee, -we will yet delight our selves a little more; let us softly descend downe -the stayres, even so farre as to the Court doore; thou shalt not speake a -word, but I will talke to him, and heare some part of his quivering -language, which cannot choose but bee passing pleasing for us to -heare.</p> - -<p>Out of the Chamber went they, and descended downe the -stayres to the Court doore; where, without opening it, she laide her -mouth to a small cranny, and in a low soft kinde of voyce, called -him by his name: which the Scholler hearing, was exceeding joyful, -as beleeving verily, that the houre of his deliverance was come, -and entrance now should be admitted him. Upon the hearing of -her voyce, hee stept close to the doore, saying. For charities sake, -good Lady, let me come in, because I am almost dead with cold; whereto -thus she answered in mocking manner. I make no doubt (my deare -friend <i>Reniero</i>) but the night is indifferent colde, and yet somewhat -the warmer by the Snowes falling: and I have heard that such weather -as this, is tenne-times more extreame at <i>Paris</i>, then heere in our -warmer Countrey. And trust me, I am exceeding sorrowfull, that I -may not (as yet) open the door, because mine unhappy brother, who -came (unexpected) yester-night to suppe with mee, is not yet gone, as -within a short while (I hope) he will, and then shall I gladly set open -the doore to you, for I made an excuse to steale a little from him, onely -to cheare you with this small kind of comfort, that his so long tarrying -might be the lesse offensive to you.</p> - -<p>Alas sweet Madame, answered quaking and quivering <i>Reniero</i>, -bee then so favourable to me, as to free me from forth this open Court, -where there is no shelter or helpe for me, the snow falling still so exceedingly, -as a man might easily be more then halfe buried in it: let me be -but within your doore, and there I will wait your own good leisure. Alas -deare <i>Reniero</i> (answered <i>Helena</i>) I dare not doe it, because the doore -maketh such a noyse in the opening, as it will be too easily heard by my -Brother: but I will goe and use such meanes, as shortly hee shall get -him gone, and then I dare boldly give you entrance. Doe so good -Madame, replyed <i>Reniero</i>, and let there be a faire fire made ready, -that when I am within, I may the sooner warme my selfe; for I am so -strangely benummed with colde, as well neere I am past all sence of feeling.</p> - -<p>Can it be possible (quoth <i>Helena</i>) that you should be so benummed -with colde? Then I plainely perceive, that men can lye in their love -letters, which I can shew under your own hand, how you fryed in flames, -and all for my love, and so have you written to me in every letter. -Poore credulous women are often thus deluded, in beleeving what men -write and speake out of passion: but I will returne backe to my Brother, -and make no doubt of dispatch, because I would gladly have your -Company.</p> - -<p>The amourous Friend to <i>Helena</i>, who stood by all this while, -laughing at the Schollers hard usage, returned up againe with her to -her Chamber, where they could not take a jote of rest, for flouting -and scorning the betrayed Scholler. As for him poore man, hee -was become like the Swanne, coldly chattering his teeth together, -in a strange new kinde of harmony to him. And perceiving himselfe -to be meerely mocked, he attempted to get open the doore, or -how he might passe forth at any other place: but being no way able -to compasse it, he walked up and downe like an angry Lyon, -cursing the hard quality of the time, the discourtesie of the Lady, -the over-tedious length of the night; but (most of all) his owne -folly and simplicity, in being so basely abused and gulde. Now began -the heat of his former affection to <i>Helena</i>, altered into as violent -a detestation of her; Yea, extremity of hatred in the highest -degree; beating his braines, and ransacking every corner of invention, -by what meanes he might best be revenged on her, which now -he more earnestly desired to effect, then to enjoy the benefit of her -love, or to be embraced betweene her armes.</p> - -<p>After that the sad and discomfortable night had spent it selfe, -& the break of day was beginning to appeare; <i>Ancilla</i> the waiting-woman, -according as she was instructed by her Lady, went downe -and opened the Court doore, and seeming exceedingly to compassionate -the Schollers unfortunate night of sufferance, saide unto -him.</p> - -<p>Alas courteous Gentleman, in an unblessed houre came my Ladyes -brother hither yester-night, inflicting too much trouble upon us, and -a grievous time of affliction to you. But I am not ignorant, that you -being vertuous, and a judicious Scholler, have an invincible spirit of -pacience, and sufficient understanding withall; that what this night -could not affoord, another may make a sound amends for. This I can -and dare sufficiently assure you, that nothing could be more displeasing -to my Lady, neither can she well be quieted in her mind: untill she have -made a double and treble requitall, for such a strange unexpected inconvenience, -whereof she had not the very least suspition.</p> - -<p><i>Reniero</i> swelling with discontentment, yet wisely clouding it -from open apprehension, and knowing well enough, that such golden -speeches and promises, did alwaies favour of what intemperate -spleene would more lavishly have vented foorth, and therefore in a -modest dissembling manner; without the least shew of any anger, -thus he answered.</p> - -<p>In good sadnesse <i>Ancilla</i>, I have endured the most miserablest night -of colde, frost and snow, that ever any poore Gentleman suffered; but I -know well enough, your Lady was not in any fault thereof, neither meriteth -to be blamed, for in her owne person (as being truely compassionate -of my distresse) she came so farre as the doore of this Court, to excuse -her selfe, and comfort mee. But as you saide, and very well too, -what hath failed this night, another hereafter may more fortunately -performe: in hope whereof, commend my love and duteous service to -her, and (what else remaineth mine) to your gentle selfe.</p> - -<p>So our halfe frozen Scholler, scarcely able to walke upon his -legges, returned home, (so well as hee could) to his owne lodging; -where, his Spirits being grievously out of order, and his eyes staring -gastly through lacke of sleepe: he lay downe on his bed, and after a -little rest, he found himselfe in much worse condition then before, -as meerely taken lame in his armes and his legges. Whereupon -he was inforced to send for Phisitions, to be advised by their councell, -in such an extremity of cold received. Immediately, they made -provision for his healthes remedie (albeit his nerves and sinewes -could very hardly extend themselves) yet in regard he was young, & -Summer swiftly drawing on; they had the better hope of affecting -his safty, out of so great and dangerous a cold.</p> - -<p>But after he was become almost well and lusty againe, hee used -to be seldome seene abroad for an indifferent while; concealing his -intended revenge secret to himselfe, yet appearing more affectionate -to Madame <i>Helena</i>, then formerly he had beene.</p> - -<p>Now, it came to passe (within no long while after) that Fortune -being favourable to our injured Scholler, prepared a new accident, -whereby he might fully effect his harts desire. For the lusty young Gallant, -who was Madame <i>Helenaes</i> deare darling and delight, and (for -whose sake) she dealt so inhumanely with poore <i>Reniero</i>: became -weary of her amourous service, and was falne in liking of another -Lady, scorning and disdaining his former Mistresse; whereat shee -grew exceedingly displeased, and began to languish in sighes and -teares.</p> - -<p>But <i>Ancilla</i> her waiting-woman, compassionating the perilous -condition of her Lady, and knowing no likely meanes whereby to -conquer this oppressing melancholly, which shee suffered for the -losse of her hearts chosen friend: at length she began to consider, -that the Scholler still walked daily by the doore, as formerly hee -was wont to doe, and (by him) there might some good be done.</p> - -<p>A fond and foolish opinion overswayed her, that the Scholler -was extraordinarily skilfull in the Art of Nigromancy, and could -thereby so over-rule the heart of her lost friend, as hee should bee -compelled to love her againe, in as effectuall manner as before; -herewith immediately she acquainted her Lady, who being as rashly -credulous, as her maide was opinionative (never considring, -that if the Scholler had any experience in Negromancy, hee would -thereby have procured his owne successe) gave releefe to her surmise, -in very Joviall and comfortable manner, and entreated her -in all kindnes, to know of him, whether he could worke such a businesse, -or no, and (upon his undertaking to effect it) shee would give -absolute assurance, that (in recompence thereof) he should unfainedly -obtaine his hearts desire. <i>Ancilla</i> was quicke and expeditious, -in delivering this message to discontented <i>Reniero</i>, whose soule being -ready to mount out of his body, onely by conceit of joy; chearefully -thus he said within himselfe. Gracious Fortune! how highly am I -obliged to thee for this so great a favour? Now thou hast blest me with -a happy time, to be justly revenged on so wicked a woman, who sought -the utter ruine of my life, in recompence of the unfaigned affection I -bare her. Returne to thy Lady (quoth he) and saluting her first on -my behalfe, bid her to abandon all care in this businesse; for, if her amourous -Friend were in India, I would make him come (in meere despight -of his heart) and crave mercy of her for his base transgression. -But concerning the meanes how, and in what manner it is to bee done, -especially on her owne behalfe: I will impart it to her so soone as she -pleaseth: faile not to tell her so constantly from me, with all my utmost -paines at her service.</p> - -<p><i>Ancilla</i> came jocondly home with her answere, and a conclusion -was set downe for their meeting together at <i>Santa Lucia del prato</i>, -which accordingly was performed, in very solemne conference between -them. Her fond affection had such power over her, that shee -had forgot, into what peril she brought his life, by such an unnatural -night-walke: but disclosed all her other intention to him, how loth -she was to lose so deare a friend, and desiring him to exercise his utmost -height of skil, with large promises of her manifold favours to -him, whereto our Scholler thus replyed.</p> - -<p>Very true it is Madam, that among other studies at <i>Paris</i>, I learned -the Art of Negromancy, the depth whereof I am as skilful in, as anie -other Scholler whatsoever. But, because it is greatly displeasing unto -God, I made a vow never to use it, either for my selfe, or anie other. -Neverthelesse, the love I beare you is of such power, as I know not well -how to denie, whatsoever you please to command me: in which respect, -if in doing you my very best service, I were sure to bee seized on by all -the divels: I will not faile to accomplish your desire, you onely having -the power to command me. But let me tell you Madame, it is a matter -not so easie to be performed, as you perhaps may rashly imagine, especially, -when a Woman would repeale a man to love her, or a man a woman: -because, it is not to be done, but by the person whom it properly -concerneth. And therefore it behoveth, that such would have this -businesse effected, must be of a constant minde, without the least scruple -of feare: because it is to be accomplished in the darke night season, in -which difficulties I doe not know, how you are able to warrant your -selfe, or whether you have such courage of spirit, as (with boldnes) -to adventure.</p> - -<p>Madame <i>Helena</i>, more hot in pursuite of her amorous contentment, -then any way governed by temperate discretion, presently -thus answered. Sir, Love hath set such a keene edge on my unconquerable -affection, as there is not any daunger so difficult, but I dare resolutely -undertake it, for the recovery of him, who hath so shamefully -refused my kindnesse: wherefore (if you please) shew mee, wherein I -must be so constant and dreadlesse. The Scholler, who had (more -then halfe) caught a right Ninny-hammer by the beake; thus replyed. -Madame, of necessity I must make an image of Tin, in the -name of him whom you desire to recall. Which when I have sent -you, the Moone being then in her full, and your selfe stript starke -naked: immediately after your first sleepe, seaven times you must -bathe your selfe with it in a swift running River. Afterward, naked -as you are, you must climbe up upon some tree, or else upon an uninhabited -house top, where standing dreadlesse of any perill, and -turning your face to the North, with the Image in your hand, seaven -times you must speake such wordes, as I will deliver to you in -writing.</p> - -<p>After you have so often spoken them, two goodly Ladies (the -very fairest that ever you beheld) wil appeare unto you, very graciously -saluting you, and demanding what you would have them -to performe for you. Safely you may speake unto them, and orderly -tel them what you desire: but be very carefull, that you name -not one man insted of another. When you have uttered your mind, -they wil depart from you, and then you may descend againe, to the -place where you did leave your garments, which having putte on, -then returne to your house. And undoubtedly, before the midst -of the next night following, your friend wil come in teares to you, -and humbly crave your pardon on his knees; beeing never able afterward -to be false to you, or leave your Love for any other whatsoever.</p> - -<p>The Lady hearing these words, gave very setled beleefe to them, -imagining unfainedly, that shee had (more then halfe) recovered -her friend already, and held him embraced betweene her armes: in -which jocond perswasion, the chearful blood mounted up into hir -cheekes, and thus she replyed. Never make you any doubt Sir, but -that I can sufficiently performe whatsoever you have said, and am -provided of the onely place in the world, where such a weighty businesse -is to be effected. For I have a Farme or dairy house, neere -adjoyning to the vale of <i>Arno</i>, & closely bordering upon the same -River. It beeing now the moneth of July, the most convenientest -time of all the yeare to bathe in; I can bee the easier induced thereunto.</p> - -<p>Moreover, there is hard by the Rivers side a small Tower or Turret -uninhabited; whereinto few people do sildome enter, but onely -Heardsmen or Flocke-keepers, who ascend uppe (by the helpe of a -wodden Ladder) to a Tarrasse on the top of the saide Tower, to -looke all about for their beasts, when they are wandred astray: it -standing in a solitary place, and out of the common way or resort. -There dare I boldly adventure to mount up, and with the invincible -courage of a wronged Lady (not fearing to looke death himself -in the face) do al that you have prescribed, yea, and much more, to -recover my deare lost Lover againe, whom I value equall with my -owne Life.</p> - -<p><i>Reniero</i>, who perfectly knew both the Dairy Farme, and the old -small Turret, not a little joyful, to heare how forward shee was to -shame her selfe, answered in this manner. Madame, I was never in -those parts of the Country, albeit they are so neere to our City, & therfore -I must needs be ignorant, not onely of your Farme, but the Turret -also. But if they stand in such convenient manner as you have described, -all the world could not yeelde the like elsewhere, so apt and sutable -to your purpose: wherefore, with such expedition as possibly I can -use, I will make the Image, and send it you, as also the charme, verie -fairely written. But let me entreate you, that when you have obtayned -your hearts desire, and are able to judge truely of my love and service: -not to be unmindfull of me, but (at your best leysure) to performe -what you have with such protestations promised; which shee gave him -her hand and faith to do, without any impeach or hindrance: and so -parting, she returned home to her house.</p> - -<p>Our over-joyed Scholler, applauding his happy Starres, for furthering -him with so faire a way to his revenge; immagining that it -was already halfe executed, made the Image in due forme, & wrote -an old Fable, in sted of a Charme; both which he sent to the Lady, -so soone as he thought the time to be fitting: and this admonition -withall, that the Moone being entering into the full, without -any longer delay, she might venter on the businesse the next night -following, and remaine assured to repossesse her friend. Afterward -for the better pleasing of himselfe, he went secretly attended, onely -by his servant, to the house of a trusty friend of his, who dwelt somwhat -neere to the Turret, there to expect the issue of this Lady-like -enterprize. And Madam <i>Helena</i> accompanied with none but <i>Ancilla</i>, -walked on to her dairy Farme, where the night ensuing, pretending -to take her rest sooner then formerly she used to doe, she commanded -<i>Ancilla</i> to go to bed, referring her selfe to her best liking.</p> - -<p>After she had slept her first sleepe (according to the Schollers direction) -departing softly out of her chamber, she went on towards -the ancient Tower, standing hard by the river of <i>Arno</i>, looking every -way heedfully about hir, least she should be spied by any person. -But perceiving hir selfe to be so secure as she could desire; putting -off all her garments, she hid them in a small brake of bushes: afterward, -holding the Image in hir hand, seven times she bathd hir body -in the river, and then returned back with it to the Tower. The -Scholler, who at the nights closing up of day, had hid himselfe among -the willowes & other trees, which grew very thick about the -Tower, saw both hir going and returning from the River, and as she -passed thus naked by him, he plainly perceyved, that the nights obscurity -could not cloud the delicate whitenes of hir body, but made -the Starres themselves to gaze amorously on her, even as if they -were proud to behold her bathing, and (like so many twinkling Tapers) -shewed hir in emulation of another <i>Diana</i>. Now, what conflicts -this sight caused in the mind of our Scholler, one while, quenching -his hatefull spleen towards hir, al coveting to imbrace a piece -of such perfection: another while, thinking it a purchase fit for one -of <i>Cupids</i> soldiers, to seize and surprize hir uppon so faire an advantage, -none being neere to yeild her rescue: in the fiery triall of such -temptations, I am not able to judge, or to say, what resistance flesh -and blood could make, being opposed with such a sweet enemy.</p> - -<p>But he well considering what she was, the greatnes of his injury, -as also how, and for whom: he forgot all wanton allurements of -Love, scorning to entertaine a thought of compassion, continuing -constant in his resolution, to let her suffer, as he himselfe had done. -So, <i>Helena</i> being mounted up on the Turret, and turning her face -towards the North; she repeated those idle frivolous words (composed -in the nature of a charme) which shee had received from the -Scholler. Afterward, by soft and stealing steps, hee went into the -old Tower, and tooke away the Ladder, whereby she ascended to -the Tarras, staying and listening, how shee proceeded in her amorous -exorcisme.</p> - -<p>Seven times she rehearsed the charme to the Image, looking still -when the two Ladies would appeare in their likenesse, and so long -she held on her imprecations (feeling greater cold, then willinglie -she would have done) that breake of day began to shew it selfe, and -halfe despairing of the Ladies comming, according as the Scholler -had promised, she said to her selfe: I much misdoubt, that <i>Reniero</i> -hath quitted me with such another peece of night-service, as it was -my lucke to bestow on him: but if he have done it in that respect, hee -was but ill advised in his revenge, because the night wants now three -parts of the length, as then it had: and the cold which he suffered, was -far superior in quality to mine, albeit it is more sharp now in the morning, -then all the time of night it hath bin.</p> - -<p>And, because day-light should not discover her on the Tarrasse, -she went to make her descent downe againe: but finding the Ladder -to be taken away, & thinking how her publike shame was now -inevitable, her heart dismayed, and shee fell downe in a swoune on -the Tarras: yet recovering her senses afterward, her greefe and sorow -exceeded all capacity of utterance. For, now she became fully -perswaded, that this proceeded from the Schollers malice, repenting -for her unkinde usage towards him, but much more condemning -her selfe, for reposing any trust in him, who stood bound -(by good reason) to be her enemy.</p> - -<p>Continuing long in this extreame affliction, and surveighing all -likely meanes about her, whereby she might descend from the Tarras, -whereof she was wholly disappointed: she began to sighe and -weepe exceedingly, and in this heavy perplexity of spirit, thus shee -complained to her selfe. Miserable and unfortunate <i>Helena</i>, what -will be saide by thy Bretheren, Kindred, Neighbours, and generallie -throughout all <i>Florence</i>, when they shall know, that thou wast founde -heere on this Turret, starke naked? Thine honourable carriage, and -honesty of life, heeretofore free from a thought of suspition, shall now -be branded with detestation; and if thou wouldst cloud this mishappe -of thine, by such lies and excuses, as are not rare amongst women: yet -<i>Reniero</i> that wicked Scholler, who knoweth all thy privy compacting, -will stand as a thousand witnesses against thee, and shame thee before -the whole City, so both thine honour and loved friend are lost for ever.</p> - -<p>Having thus consulted with her selfe, many desperate motions -entred her minde, to throw her selfe headlong from off the Tarras; -till better thoughts wone possession of her soule. And the Sunne -being risen, shee went to every corner of the Tarras, to espye any -Lad come abroad with his beasts, by whom she might send for her -waiting-woman. About this instant, the Scholler who lay sleeping -(all this while) under a bush, suddenly awaking; saw her looke over -the wall, and she likewise espyed him; whereupon hee said unto -her. Good morrow Madame <i>Helena</i>, What? are the Ladies come yet -or no? <i>Helena</i> hearing his scorning question, and grieving that hee -should so delude her; in teares and lamentations, she intreated him -to come neere the Tower, because she desired to speake with him. -Which courtesie he did not deny her, and she lying groveling upon -her brest on the Tarras, to hide her body that no part thereof -might be seene, but her head; weeping, she spake thus to him.</p> - -<p><i>Reniero</i>, upon my credit, if I gave thee an ill nights rest, thou hast -well revenged that wrong on me; for, although wee are now in the -moneth of <i>July</i>, I have beene plagued with extremity of colde (in regard -of my nakednesse) even almost frozen to death: beside my continuall -teares and lamenting, that folly perswaded me to beleeve thy protestations, -wherein I account it well-neere miraculous, that mine eyes -should be capable of any sight. And therefore I pray thee, not in respect -of any love which thou canst pretend to beare me; but for regard of thine -owne selfe, being a Gentleman and a Scholler, that this punishment which -thou hast already inflicted upon me, may suffise for my former injuries -towards thee, and to hold thy selfe revenged fully, as also permit my garments -to be brought me, that I may descend from hence, without taking -that from me, which afterward (although thou wouldst) thou canst never -restore me, I meane mine honour. And consider with thy selfe, that -albeit thou didst not injoy my company that unhappy night, yet thou hast -power to command me at any time whensoever, with making many diversities -of amends, for one nights offence only committed. Content thy selfe -then good <i>Reniero</i>, and as thou art an honest Gentleman, say thou art -sufficiently revenged on me, in making me dearely confesse mine owne -error. Never exercise thy malice upon a poore weake woman, for the -Eagle disdaineth to pray on the yeelding Dove: and therefore in meere -pitty, and for manhoods sake, be my release from open shame and reproch.</p> - -<p>The Scholler, whose envious spleene was swolne very great, in -remembring such a malicious cruelty exercised on him, beholding -her to weepe and make such lamentations; found a fierce conflict -in his thoughts, betweene content and pitty. It did not a little joy -and content him, that the revenge which hee so earnestly desired to -compasse, was now by him so effectually inflicted. And yet (in meere -humanity) pitty provoked him to commisserate the Ladies distressed -condition: but clemency being over-weake to withstand his -rigour, thus he replied. Madame <i>Helena</i>, if my entreaties (which, to -speake truly, I never knew how to steepe in tears, nor wrap up my words -in sugar Candie, so cuningly as you women know how to do) could have -prevailed, that miserable night, when I was well-neere frozen to death -with cold, and meerly buried with snow in your Court, not having anie -place of rescue or shelter; your complaints would now the more easily over-rule -me. But if your honour in estimation, bee now more precious to -you then heretofore, and it seemeth so offensive to stand there naked: -convert your perswasions & prayers to him, in whose armes you were -that night imbraced, both of your triumphing in my misery, when poor -I, trotted about your Court, with the teeth quivering in my head, and -beating mine armes about my body, finding no compassion in him, or -you. Let him bring thee thy Garments, let him come helpe thee down -with the Ladder, and let him have the care of thine honour, on whom -thou hast bene so prodigall heretofore in bestowing it, and now hast unwomanly -throwne thy selfe in perill, onely for the maintenance of thine -immodest desires.</p> - -<p>Why dost thou not call on him to come helpe thee? To whom doeth it -more belong, then to him? For thou art his, and he thine, why then shold -any other but he help thee in this distresse? Call him (foole as thou art) -and try, if the love he beareth thee, and thy best understanding joyned -with his, can deliver thee out of my sottish detaining thee. I have not -forgot, that when you both made a pastime of my misery, thou didst demand -of him, which seemed greatest in his opinion, either my sottish -simplicity, or the love thou barest him. I am not now so liberall or courteous, -to desire that of thee, which thou wouldst not grant, if I did request it: -No, no, reserve those night favours for thy amorous friend, if -thou dost escape hence alive to see him againe. As for my selfe, I leave -thee freely to his use and service: because I have sufficiently payde for a -womans falshood, & wise men take such warning, that they scorne to bee -twice deceived, & by one woman. Proceed on stil in thy flattering perswasions, -terming me to be a Gentleman and a Scholler, thereby to win -such favor from me, that I should think thy villany toward me, to be already -sufficiently punished. No, trecherous <i>Helena</i>, thy blandishments -cannot now hoodwink the eies of my understanding, as when thou didst -out-reach me with thy disloyall promises and protestations. And let -me now tell thee plainely, that all the while I continued in the Universitie -of <i>Paris</i>, I never attained unto so perfect an understanding -of my selfe, as in that one miserable night thou diddest enstruct mee. -But admit, that I were enclined unto a mercifull and compassionate -minde, yet thou art none of them, on whome milde and gracious -mercy should any way declare her effects. For, the end of pennance among -savage beasts, such as thou art, and likewise of due vengeance, -ought to be death: whereas among men, it should suffice according to -thine owne saying. Wherefore, in regard that I am neither an Eagle, -nor thou a Dove, but rather a most venomous Serpent: I purpose with -my utmost hatred, and as an ancient enemy to all such as thou art, to -make my revenge famous on thee.</p> - -<p>I am not ignorant, that whatsoever I have already done unto thee, -cannot properly be termed revenge, but rather chastisement; because -revenge ought alwayes to exceede the offence, which (as yet) I am farre -enough from. For, if I did intend to revenge my wrongs, and remembred -thy monstrous cruelty to me: thy life, if I tooke it from thee, and -an hundred more such as thy selfe, were farre insufficient, because in -killing thee, I should kill but a vile inhumane beast, yea, one that deserved -not the name of a Woman. And, to speake truely, Art thou any -more, or better (setting aside thy borrowed haire, and painted beauty, -which in few yeares will leave thee wrinkled and deformed) then the -basest beggarly Chamber-stuffe that can bee? Yet thou soughtest the -death of a Gentleman and Scholler as (in scorne) not long since, thou -didst terme me: whose life may hereafter be more beneficiall unto the -world, then millions of such as thou art, to live in the like multiplicity -of ages. Therefore, if this anguish be sensible to thee, learne what it is -to mocke men of apprehension, and (amongst them especially) such as -are Schollers: to prevent thy falling hereafter into the like extremity, -if it be thy good lucke to escape out of this.</p> - -<p>It appeareth to me, that thou art verie desirous to come downe hither -on the ground; the best counsell that I can give thee, is to leape -downe headlong, that by breaking thy necke (if thy fortune be so faire) -thy life and lothsome qualities ending together, I may sit and smile at -thy deserved destruction. I have no other comfort to give thee, but only -to boast my happinesse, in teaching thee the way to ascend that Tower, -and in thy descending downe (even by what means thy wit can best -devise) make a mockery of me, and say thou hast learned more, then all -my Schollership could instruct thee.</p> - -<p>All the while as <i>Reniero</i> uttered these speeches, the miserable Lady -sighed and wept very grievously, the time running on, and the -Sunne amending higher and higher; but when she heard him silent, -thus she answered. Unkinde and cruell man, if that wretched night -was so greevous to thee, and mine offence appeared so great, as neither -my youth, beautie, teares, and humble intercessions, are able to derive -any mercy from thee; yet let the last consideration moove thee to -some remorse: namely, that I reposed new confidence in thee (when I had -little or no reason at all to trust thee) and discovered the integritie of -my soule unto thee, whereby thou didst compasse the meanes, to punish -me thus deservedly for my sinne. For, if I had not reposed confidence -in thee, thou couldst not (in this manner) have wrought revenge on me, -which although thou didst earnestly covet, yet my rash credulitie was -thy onely helpe. Asswage then thine anger, and graciously pardon me, -wherein if thou wilt be so mercifull to me, and free me from this fatall -Tower: I do heere faithfully promise thee, to forsake my most false -and disloyall friend, electing thee as my Lord and constant Love for -ever.</p> - -<p>Moreover, although thou condemnest my beauty greatly, esteeming it -as a trifle, momentary, and of slender continuance; yet, such as it is (being -comparable with any other womans whatsoever) I am not so ignorant, -that were there no other reason to induce liking thereof: yet men in the -vigour of their youth (as I am sure you think yourselfe not aged) do hold -it for an especiall delight, ordained by nature for them to admire and honour. -And notwithstanding all thy cruelty extended to mee, yet I cannot -be perswaded, that thou art so flinty or Iron-hearted, as to desire my miserable -death, by casting my selfe headlong downe (like a desperate madde -woman) before thy face so to destroy that beauty, which (if thy Letters lyed -not) was once so highly pleasing in thine eyes. Take pitty then on mee -for charities sake, because the Sunne beginneth to heate extreamely: and -as over-much colde (that unhappy night) was mine offence, so let not over-violent -warmth be now my utter ruine and death.</p> - -<p>The Scholler, who (onely to delight himselfe) maintained this -long discoursing with her, returned her this answere. Madame, you -did not repose such confidence in me, for any good will or affection in you -towards me, but in hope of recovering him whom you had lost; wherein -you merit not a jot of favour, but rather the more sharpe and severe infliction. -And whereas you inferre, that your over-rash credulity, gave -the onely meanes to my revenge: Alas! therein you deceive your selfe; -for I have a thousand crochets working continually in my brain, whereby -to entrap a wiser creature then a woman, yet veiled all under the -cunning cloake of love, but sauced with the bitter Wormewood of hate. -So that, had not this hapned as now it doth, of necessity you must have -falne into another: but, as it hath pleased my happy stars to favour mee -therein, none could proove more to your eternall scandall and disgrace, -then this of your owne devising, which I made choise of, not in regard -of any ease to you, but onely to content my selfe.</p> - -<p>But if all other devises els had failed, my pen was and is my prevayling -Champion, where-with I would have written such and so many -strange matters, concerning you in your very dearest reputation; that -you should have curst the houre of your conception, & wisht your birth -had bin abortive. The powers of the pen are too many & mighty, whereof -such weake wits as have made no experience, are the lesse able to use -any relation. I sweare to you Lady, by my best hopes, that this revenge -which (perhappes) you esteeme great and dishonourable, is no way -compareable to the wounding Lines of a Penne, which can charracter -downe so infinite infamies (yet none but guilty and true taxations) as -will make your owne hands immediate instruments, to teare the eyes -from forth your head, and so bequeath your after dayes unto perpetuall -darkenesse.</p> - -<p>Now, concerning your lost lover, for whose sake you suffer this unexpected -pennance; although your choise hath proved but bad, yet still -continue your affection to him: in regard that I have another Ladie -and Mistresse, of higher and greater desert then you, and to whome I -will continue for ever constant. And whereas you thinke, the warme -beames of the Sunne, will be too hot and scorching for your nice bodie -to endure: remember the extreame cold which you caused mee to feele, -and if you can intermixe some part of that cold with the present heat, -I dare assure you, the Sun (in his highest heate) will be far more temperate -for your feeling.</p> - -<p>The disconsolate Lady perceiving, that the Schollers wordes favoured -of no mercy, but rather as coveting her desperate ending; -with the teares streaming downe her cheekes, thus she replied. Wel -Sir, seeing there is no matter of worth in me, whereby to derive any -compassion from you: yet for that Ladies sake, whom you have -elected worthy to enjoy your love, and so farre excelleth mee in -Wisedome; vouchsafe to pardon mee, and suffer my garments to -be brought me, wherewith to cover my nakednesse, and so to descend -downe from this Tower, if it may stand with your gentle Nature -to admit it.</p> - -<p>Now beganne <i>Reniero</i> to laughe very heartily, and perceiving -how swiftly the day ran on in his course, he saide unto her. Beleeve -me Madame <i>Helena</i>, you have so conjured me by mine endeered Ladie -and Mistresse, that I am no longer able to deny you; wherefore, tell me -where your garments are, and I will bring them to you, that you may -come downe from the Turret. She beleeving his promise, tolde him -where she had hid them, and <i>Reniero</i> departing from the Tower, -commanded his servant, not to stirre thence: but to abide still so -neere it, as none might get entrance there till his returning. Which -charge was no sooner given to his man, but hee went to the house -of a neere neighbouring friend, where he dined well, and afterward -laid him downe to sleepe.</p> - -<p>In the meane while, Madame <i>Helena</i> remaining still on the Tower, -began to comfort her selfe with a little vaine hope, yet sighing -and weeping incessantly, seating her selfe so well as shee could, -where any small shelter might yeelde the least shade, in expectation -of the Schollers returning: one while weeping, then againe hoping, -but most of all despairing, by his so long tarrying away with -her Garments; so that beeing over-wearied with anguish and long -watching, she fell into a little slumbering. But the Sunne was so -extreamly hot, the houre of noone being already past, that it meerly -parched her delicate body, and burnt her bare head so violently: -as not onely it seared all the flesh it touched; but also cleft & chinkt -it strangely, beside blisters and other painfull scorchings in the flesh -which hindred her sleeping, to help her self (by all possible means) -waking. And the Turret being covered with Lead, gave the greater -addition to her torment; for, as she removed from one place to -another, it yeelded no mitigation to the burning heate, but parched -and wrinkled the flesh extraordinarily, even as when a piece of -parchment is throwne into the fire, and recovered out againe, can -never be extended to his former forme.</p> - -<p>Moreover, she was so grievously payned with the head-ake, as it -seemed to split in a thousand pieces, whereat there needed no great -marvaile, the Lead of the Turret being so exceedingly hot, that it -affoorded not the least defence against it, or any repose to qualifie -the torment: but drove her still from one place to another, in hope -of ease, but none was there to be found.</p> - -<p>Nor was there any winde at all stirring, whereby to asswage the -Sunnes violent scalding, or keepe away huge swarmes of Waspes, -Hornets, and terrible byting Flyes, which vexed her extreamely, -feeding on those parts of her body, that were rifte and chinkt, like -crannies in a mortered wall, and pained her like so many points of -pricking Needles, labouring still with her hands to beate them away, -but yet they fastned on one place or other, and afflicted her -in grievous manner, causing her to curse her owne life, hir amorous -friend, but (most of all) the Scholler, that promised to bring her -Garments, and as yet returned not. Now began she to gaze upon -every side about her, to espy some labouring Husbandmen in the -fields, to whom she might call or cry out for helpe, not fearing to -discover her desperate condition: but Fortune therein also was adverse -to her, because the heats extreamity, had driven all the village -out of the fields, causing them to feede their Cattle about theyr -owne houses, or in remote and shadie Valleyes: so that shee could -see no other creatures to comfort her, but Swannes swimming in -the River of <i>Arno</i>, and wishing her selfe there a thousand times with -them, for to coole the extreamity of her thirst, which so much the -more encreased, onely by the sight thereof, and utterly disabled of -having any.</p> - -<p>She saw beside in many places about her, goodly Woods, fayre -coole shades, and Country houses here and there dispersed; which -added the greater violence to hir affliction, that her desires (in all -these) could no way be accomplished. What shall I say more concerning -this disastrous Lady? The parching beames of the Sunne -above her, the scalding heat of the Lead beneath her, the Hornets -and Flyes everie way stinging her, had made such an alteration of -her beautifull bodie: that, as it checkt and controlled the precedent -nights darkenesse, it was now so metamorphosed with rednesse, -yea, and blood issuing forth in infinite places, as she seemed -(almost) loathsome to looke on, continuing still in this agonie of -torment, quite voyde of all hope, and rather expecting death, then -any other comfort.</p> - -<p><i>Reniero</i>, when some three houres of the afternoone were overpast, -awaked from sleeping: and remembring Madame <i>Helena</i>, he -went to see in what estate she was; as also to send his servant unto -dinner, because he had fasted all that day. She perceyving his arrivall, -being altogether weake, faint, and wonderously over-wearied, -she crept on her knees to a corner of the Turret, and calling to -him, spake in this manner. <i>Reniero</i>, thy revenge exceedeth al manhoode -and respect: For, if thou wast almost frozen in my Court, -thou hast roasted me all day long on this Tower, yea, meerly broyled -my poore naked bodie, beside starving mee thorough want of -Food and drinke. Be now then so mercifull (for manhoods sake) -as to come uppe hither, and inflict that on me, which mine owne -hands are not strong enough to do, I meane the ending of my loathed -and wearisome life, for I desire it beyond all comfort else, and -I shall honour thee in the performance of it. If thou deny me this -gracious favour; at least send me uppe a glasse of Water, onely -to moisten my mouth, which my teares (being all meerly dried up) -are not able to doe, so extreame is the violence of the Sunnes burning -heate.</p> - -<p>Well perceived the Scholler, by the weaknesse of her voyce, and -scorching of her body by the Suns parching beames, that shee was -brought now to great extremity: which sight, as also her humble intercession, -began to touch him with some compassion, nevertheles, -thus he replied. Wicked woman, my hands shal be no means of thy -death, but make use of thine owne, if thou be so desirous to have it: -and as much water shalt thou get of me to asswage thy thirst, as thou -gavest me fire to comfort my freezing, when thou wast in the luxurious -heat of thy immodest desires, and I wel-neere frozen to death -with extremity of cold. Pray that the Evening may raine downe -Rose-water on thee, because that in the River of <i>Arno</i> is not good -enough for thee: for as little pitty doe I take on thee now, as thou -didst extend compassion to me then.</p> - -<p>Miserable Woman that I am, answered <i>Helena</i>; Why did the heavens -bestow beautie on mee, which others have admired and honoured, -and yet (by thee) is utterly despised? More cruell art thou then -any savage Beast; thus to vexe and torment mee in such mercilesse -manner. What greater extreamity couldst thou inflict on me, if I had -bin the destruction of all thy Kindred, and lefte no one man living of -thy race? I am verily perswaded, that more cruelty cannot be used against -a Traitor, who was the subversion of a whole Cittie, then this -tyranny of thine, roasting me thus in the beames of the Sun, and suffering -my body to be devoured with Flies, without so small a mercie; as -to give mee a little coole water, which murtherers are permitted to -have, being condemned by Justice, and led to execution: yea Wine also, -if they request it.</p> - -<p>But, seeing thou art so constant in thy pernitious resolve, as neither -thine owne good Nature, nor this lamentable sufferance in me, are able -to alter thee: I will prepare my self for death patiently, to the end, that -Heaven may be mercifull to my soul, and reward thee justly, according -to thy cruelty. Which words being ended, she withdrew her selfe -towards the middest of the Tarras, despairing of escaping (with -life) from the heates violence; and not once onely, but infinite -times beside (among her other grievous extreamities) she was ready -to dye with drought, bemoaning incessantly her dolorous condition.</p> - -<p>By this time the day was well neere spent, and night beganne to -hasten on apace: when the Scholler (immagining that he afflicted -her sufficiently) tooke her Garments, and wrapping them up in his -mans Cloake, went thence to the Ladies house, where he found -<i>Ancilla</i> the Waiting-woman sitting at the doore, sad and disconsolate -for her Ladies long absence, to whom thus he spake. How -now <i>Ancilla</i>? Where is thy Lady and Mistris? Alas Sir (quoth -she) I know not. I thought this morning to have found her in her -bed, as usually I was wont to do, and where I left her yesternight -at our parting: but there she was not, nor in any place else of my -knowledge, neyther can I imagine what is become of her, which is -to me no meane discomfort.</p> - -<p>But can you (Sir) say any thing of her? <i>Ancilla</i>, said he, I would -thou hadst bin in her company, and at the same place where now -she is, that some punishment for thy fault might have falne uppon -thee, as already it hath done on her. But beleeve it assuredly, that -thou shalt not freely escape from my fingers, till I have justly paide -thee for thy paines, to teach thee to abuse any Gentleman, as thou -didst me.</p> - -<p>Having thus spoken, hee called to his servant, saying. Give her -the Garments, and bid her go looke her Lady, if she will. The Servingman -fulfilled his Masters command, and <i>Ancilla</i> having receyved -her Ladies cloaths, knowing them perfectly, and remembring -(withall) what had bin said: she waxed very doubtfull, least they -had slaine her, hardly refraining from exclaiming on them, but that -greefe and heavie weeping overcame her; so that uppon the Schollers -departing, she ranne in all hast with the garments towardes the -Tower.</p> - -<p>Upon this fatall and unfortunate day to Madame <i>Helena</i>, it chanced, -that a Clowne or Countrey Peazant belonging to her Farme -or Dairy house, having two of his young Heyfers wandred astray, -and he labouring in diligent search to finde them: within a while -after the Schollers departure, came to seeke them in Woods about -the Tower, and, notwithstanding all his crying and calling for his -beasts, yet he heard the Ladies greevous moanes and lamentations. -Wherefore, he cryed out so lowd as he could, saying: Who is it -that mourneth so aloft on the Tower? Full well she knew the voyce -of her peazant, and therefore called unto him, and sayd in this manner.</p> - -<p>Go (quoth she) I pray thee for my Waiting-woman <i>Ancilla</i>, and -bid her make some meanes to come up hither to me. The Clowne -knowing his Lady, sayde. How now Madame? Who hath carried -you up there so high? Your Woman <i>Ancilla</i> hath sought for -you all this day, yet no one could ever have immagined you to bee -there. So looking about him, he espyed the two sides of the Ladder, -which the Scholler had pulled in sunder; as also the steppes, -which he had scattered thereabout; placing them in due order againe -as they should bee, and binding them fast with Withies and -Willowes.</p> - -<p>By this time <i>Ancilla</i> was come thither, who so soone as shee was -entred into the Tower, could not refrain from teares & complaints, -beating her hands each against other, and crying out. Madam, Madam, -my deare Lady and Mistresse! Alas, Where are you? So -soone as she heard the tongue of <i>Ancilla</i>, she replyed (so well as she -could) saying: Ah my sweet Woman, I am heere aloft uppon the -Tarras; weepe not, neyther make any noyse, but quickely bring me -some of my Garments. When shee heard her answer in such comfortable -manner, she mounted up the Ladder, which the peazant had -made very firme and strong, holding it fast for her safer ascending; -by which meanes she went upon the Tarras. Beholding her Ladie -in so strange a condition, resembling no humane body, but rather -the trunke of a Tree halfe burned, lying flat on her face, naked, scorched -and strangely deformed: shee beganne to teare the lockes of -her owne hayre, raving and raging in as pittifull manner, as if her -Ladie had beene quite dead. Which storming tempest, Madame -<i>Helena</i> soone pacified, entreating her to use silence, and helpe to put -on her garments.</p> - -<p>Having understood by her, that no one knew of her being there, -but such as brought her cloathes, and the poore peazant, attending -there still to do her any service: shee became the better comforted, -entreating them by all meanes, that it might bee concealed from any -further discovery, which was on eyther side, most faithfullie -protested.</p> - -<p>The poore Clowne holpe to beare downe his Lady uppon his -backe, because the Ladder stood not conveniently enough for her -descending, neither were her limbes plyable for her owne use, by -reason of their rifts and smarting. <i>Ancilla</i> following after, and being -more respective of her Lady, then her owne security in descending; -missing the step in the midst of the Ladder, fell downe to the -ground, and quite brake her legge in the fall, the paine whereof was -so greevous to her, that she cried and roared extraordinarily, even -like a Lyon in the desert.</p> - -<p>When the Clowne had set his Lady safe on a faire green banke, -he returned to see what the waiting woman ayled, and finding her -leg to be quite broken: he caried her also to the same banke, & there -seated her by her Lady: who perceiving what a mischance had hapned, -and she, from whom she expected her onely best helpe, to bee -now in far greater necessity her selfe: shee lamented exceedingly, -complaining on Fortunes cruel malice toward her, in thus heaping -one misery upon another, and never ceasing to torment her, especially -now in the conclusion of all, and when shee thought all future -perils to be past.</p> - -<p>Now was the Sun upon his setting, when the poore honest country-man, -because darke night should not overtake them, conducted -the Lady home to his owne house: and gaining the assistance of his -two brethren and wife, setting the waiting-woman in a Chaire, thither -they brought her in like manner. And questionles, there wanted -no diligence and comfortable language, to pacifie the Ladyes -continuall lamentations. The good wife, led the Lady into hir own -poore lodging, where (such cates as they had to feede on) lovingly -she set before her: conveying her afterward into her owne bed, and -taking such good order, that <i>Ancilla</i> was carried in the night time -to <i>Florence</i>, to prevent all further ensuing danger, by reason of her -legs breaking.</p> - -<p>Madame <i>Helena</i>, to colour this misfortune of her owne: as also -the great mishap of her woman: forged an artificiall and cunning -tale, to give some formall apparance of hir being in the Tower, perswading -the poore simple Country people, that in a straunge accident -of thunder and lightning, and by the illusions of wicked spirits, -all this adventure hapned to her. Then Physitians were sent -for; who, not without much anguish and affliction to the Ladie (by -reason of her fleshes flaying off, with the Medicines and Emplaysters -applyed to the body) was glad to suffer whatsoever they did, -beside falling into a very dangerous Feaver; out of which she was -not recovered in a long while after, but continued in daily dispayre -of her life; beside other accidents hapning in her time of Physicke, -utterly unavoydable in such extreamities: and hardly had <i>Ancilla</i> -her legge cured.</p> - -<p>By this unexpected pennance imposed on Madame <i>Helena</i>, she -utterly forgot her amorous friend, and (from thence forward) carefully -kept her selfe from fond loves allurements, and such scornfull -behaviour, wherein she was most disorderly faulty. And <i>Reniero</i> -the Scholler, understanding that <i>Ancilla</i> had broken her leg, which -he reputed as a punishment sufficient for her, held himselfe satisfyed, -because neither the Mistresse nor her Maide, could now make any -great boast, of his nights hard entertainment, and so concealed -all matters else.</p> - -<p>Thus a wanton-headed Lady, could finde no other subject to -worke her mocking folly on, but a learned Scholler, of whom shee -made no more respect, then any other ordinary man. Never remembring, -that such men are expert (I cannot say all, but the greater -part of them) to helpe the frenzie of foolish Ladies, that must injoy -their loose desires, by Negromancy, and the Divelles meanes. -Let it therefore (faire Ladies) be my loving admonition to you, to -detest all unwomanly mocking and scorning, but more especiallie -to Schollers.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Two_neere_dwelling_Neighbours_the_one_beeing_named_Spinelloccio" id="Two_neere_dwelling_Neighbours_the_one_beeing_named_Spinelloccio"><i>Two neere dwelling Neighbours, the one beeing named</i> Spinelloccio -Tavena, <i>and the other</i> Zeppa di Mino, <i>frequenting each others -company daily together;</i> Spinelloccio <i>Cuckolded his Friend and -Neighbour. Which happening to the knowledge of</i> Zeppa, <i>he prevailed -so well with the Wife of</i> Spinelloccio, <i>that he being lockt up -in a Chest, he revenged his wrong at that instant, so that neither of -them complained of his misfortune.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Eight Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is approved, that he which offereth shame and disgrace to his -Neighbour; may receive the like injury (if not in worse manner) by -the same man.</i></h4> - - -<p>Greevous, and full of compassion, appeared the hard Fortunes -of Madame <i>Helena</i> to be, having much discontented, -and (well-neere) wearied all the Ladies in hearing -them recounted. But because they were very justly inflicted upon -her, and according as (in equity) shee had deserved, they were the -more moderate in their commisseration: howbeit, they reputed the -Scholler not onely over-obstinate, but also too strict, rigorous and -severe. Wherefore, when Madame <i>Pampinea</i> had finished hir Novell, -the Queene gave command to Madame <i>Fiammetta</i>, that she -should follow next with her discourse; whereto shee shewing obedience, -thus beganne.</p> - -<p>Because it appeareth in my judgement (faire Ladyes) that the -Schollers cruelty hath much displeased you, making you more melancholly -then this time requireth: I holde it therefore very convenient, -that your contristed spirits should be chearfully revived, with -matter more pleasing and delightfull. And therefore, I mean to report -a Novell of a certaine man, who tooke an injury done him, in -much milder manner, and revenged his wrong more moderately, -then the furious incensed Scholler did. Whereby you may comprehend, -that it is sufficient for any man, and so he ought to esteeme -it, to serve another with the same sawce, which the offending party -caused him first to taste of: without coveting any stricter revenge, -then agreeth with the quality of the injury received.</p> - -<p>Know then (Gracious assembly) that, as I have heretofore heard, -there lived not long since in <i>Sienna</i>, two young men, of honest parentage -and equall condition, neither of the best, nor yet the meanest -calling in the City: the one being named <i>Spinelloccio Tavena</i>, -and the other tearmed <i>Zeppa di Mino</i>, their houses Neighbouring -together in the streete <i>Camollia</i>. Seldome the one walked abroade -without the others Company, and their houses allowed equall welcome -to them both; so that by outward demonstrations, & inward -mutuall affection, as far as humane capacity had power to extend, -they lived and loved like two Brethren, they both beeing wealthy, -and married unto two beautifull women.</p> - -<p>It came to passe, that <i>Spinelloccio</i>, by often resorting to the house -of <i>Zeppa</i>, as well in his absence, as when he abode at home; beganne -to glance amorous looks on <i>Zeppaes</i> wife, and pursued his unneighbourly -purpose in such sort: that hee being the stronger perswader, -and she (belike) too credulous in beleeving, or else over-feeble in -resisting; from private imparlance, they fell to action; and continued -their close fight a long while together, unseene and without -suspition, no doubt to their equall joy and contentment.</p> - -<p>But, whether as a just punishment, for breaking so loving a league -of friendship and neighbour-hood, or rather a fatall infliction, evermore -attending on the closest Cuckoldry, their felicity still continuing -in this kinde: it fortuned on a day, <i>Zeppa</i> abiding within doors, -contrary to the knowledge of his wife, <i>Spinelloccio</i> came to enquire -for him, and she answering (as she verily supposed) that he was gone -abroad: uppe they went both together into the Hall, and nobodie -being there to hinder what they intended, they fell to their wonted -recreation without any feare, kissing and embracing as Lovers use -to do.</p> - -<p><i>Zeppa</i> seeing all this, spake not one word, neither made any noise -at all; but kept himselfe closely hidden, to observe the yssue of this -amorous conflict. To be briefe, he saw <i>Spinelloccio</i> goe with his -wife into the Chamber, and make the doore fast after them, whereat -he could have beene angry, which he held to be no part of true -wisedome. For he knew well enough, that to make an out crie in -this case, or otherwise to reveale this kinde of injury, it could no -way make it lesse, but rather give a greater addition of shame and -scandall: he thought this no course for him to take; wiser considerations -entred his braine, to have this wrong fully revenged, yet -with such a discreete and orderly carriage, as no neighbours knowledge -should by any meanes apprehend it, or the least signe of discontent -in himselfe blabbe it, because they were two daungerous -evils.</p> - -<p>Many notable courses wheeled about his conceit, every one promising -fairely, and ministring meanes of formall apparance, yet one -(above the rest) wonne his absolute allowance, which he intended -to prosecute as best he might. In which resolution, he kept still very -close, so long as <i>Spinelloccio</i> was with his Wife; but hee being -gone, he went into the Chamber, where he found his wife, amending -the forme of her head attyre, which <i>Spinelloccio</i> had put into -a disordred fashion. Wife (quoth he) what art thou doing? Why? -Do you not see Husband? answered she. Yes that I do wife, replied -<i>Zeppa</i>, and something else happened to my sight, which I could -wish that I had not seene. Rougher Language growing betweene -them, of his avouching, and her as stout denying, with defending -her cause over-weakely, against the manifest proofes both of eye -and eare; at last she fell on her knees before him, weeping incessantly, -and no excuses now availing, she confest her long acquaintance -with <i>Spinelloccio</i>, and most humbly entreated him to forgive -her. Uppon the which penitent confession and submission, <i>Zeppa</i> -thus answered.</p> - -<p>Wife, if inward contrition be answerable to thy outward seeming -sorrow, then I make no doubt, but faithfully thou dost acknowledge -thine owne evill dooing: for which, if thou expectest pardon -of me; determine then to fulfill effectually, such a busines as I must -enjoyne, and thou performe. I command thee to tell <i>Spinelloccio</i>, -that to morrow morning, about nine of the clocke, we being both -abroad walking, he must finde some apt occasion to leave my company, -and then come hither to visit thee. When he is here, sodainly -will I returne home; and upon thy hearing of my entraunce: to -save his owne credite, and thee from detection, thou shalt require -him to enter this Chest, untill such time as I am gone forth againe; -which he doing, for both your safeties, so soon as he is in the chest, -take the key and locke him up fast. When thou hast effected this, -then shall I acquaint thee with the rest remaining, which also must -be done by thee, without dread of the least harme to him or thee, -because there is no malicious meaning in me, but such as (I am perswaded) -thou canst not justly mislike. The wife, to make some satisfaction -for her offence committed, promised that she would performe -it, and so she did.</p> - -<p>On the morrow morning, the houre of nine being come, when -<i>Zeppa</i> and <i>Spinelloccio</i> were walking abroad together, <i>Spinelloccio</i> -remembring his promise unto his Mistresse, and the clocke telling -him the appointed houre, hee saide to <i>Zeppa</i>. I am to dine this day -with an especiall friend of mine, who I would be loath should tarry -for my comming; and therefore holde my departure excused. -How now? answered <i>Zeppa</i>, the time for dinner is yet farre enough -off, wherefore then should we part so soone? Yea but <i>Zeppa</i>, replied -<i>Spinelloccio</i>, wee have weighty matters to confer on before dinner, -which will require three houres space at the least, and therefore -it behoveth me to respect due time.</p> - -<p><i>Spinelloccio</i> being departed from Zeppa (who followed faire and -softly after him) being come to the house, and kindly welcommed -by the wife: they were no sooner gone up the staires, and entering -in at the Chamber doore; but the Woman heard her Husband -cough, and also his comming up the staires. Alas deare <i>Spinelloccio</i> -(quoth she) what shall we do? My Husband is comming uppe, -and we shall be both taken tardie, step into this Chest, lye downe -there and stirre not, till I have sent him forth againe, which shall be -within a very short while. <i>Spinelloccio</i> was not a little joyfull for -her good advice; downe in the Chest lay he, and she lockt him in: -by which time <i>Zeppa</i> was entred the Chamber. Where are you -Wife? said he, (speaking so loud, as hee in the Chest might heare -him) What, is it time to go to dinner? It will be anon Sir, answered -she, as yet it is overearly; but seeing you are come, the more hast -shall be made, and every thing will be ready quickly.</p> - -<p><i>Zeppa</i>, sitting downe upon the Chest, wherein <i>Spinelloccio</i> lay -not a little affrighted, speaking stil aloud, as formerly he did: Come -hither Wife (quoth he) how shall we do for some good companie -to dine with us? Mine honest kinde neighbour <i>Spinelloccio</i> is not at -home, because he dineth forth to day with a deare friend of his, by -which meanes, his wife is left at home alone: give her a call out at -our Window, and desire her to come dine with us: for we two can -make no merry Musicke, except some more come to fill up the consort.</p> - -<p>His Wife being very timorous, yet diligent to doe whatsoever -he commanded, so prevailed with the Wife of <i>Spinelloccio</i>: that -she came to them quickely, and so much the rather, because her -Husband dined abroad. Shee being come up into the Chamber, -<i>Zeppa</i> gave her most kinde entertainment, taking her gently by the -hand, and winking on his Wife, that she should betake her selfe to -the kitchin, to see dinner speedily prepared, while he sat conversing -with his neighbour in the Chamber.</p> - -<p>His wife being gone, he shut the doore after her, which the new-come -Neighbour perceyving, she sayde. Our blessed Lady defend -me. <i>Zeppa</i>, What is your meaning in this? Have you caused me to -come hither to this intent? Is this the love you beare to <i>Spinelloccio</i>, -and your professed loyalty in friendshippe? <i>Zeppa</i>, seating her -downe on the Chest, wherein her Husband was inclosed, entreating -her patience, thus began. Kinde and loving Neighbor, before -you adventure too farre in anger, vouchsafe to heare what I shall -tell you.</p> - -<p>I have loved, and still doe love, <i>Spinelloccio</i> as my brother, but -yesterday (albeit he knoweth it not) I found, the honest trust I reposed -in him, deserved no other, or better recompence, but even to -be bold with my wife, in the selfesame manner as I am, and as hee -ought to do with none but you. Now, in regard of the love which -I beare him, I intend to be no otherwise revenged on him, but in the -same kinde as the offence was committed. He hath bin more then -familiar with my wife, I must borrow the selfe-same courtesie of -you, which in equity you cannot deny mee, weighing the wrong -you have sustained by my wife. Our injuries are alike, in your Husband -to me, and in my wife to you: let then their punishment and -ours be alike also, as they, so we; for in this case there can be no juster -revenge.</p> - -<p>The Woman hearing this, and perceiving the manifolde confirmations -thereof, protested (on solemne oath) by <i>Zeppa</i>; hir beliefe -grew setled, and thus she answered. My loving neighbour <i>Zeppa</i>, seeing -this kinde of revenge is (in meere justice) imposed on mee, and -ordained as a due scourge, as well to the breach of friendship and -neighbour-hood, as abuse of his true and loyall wife: I am the more -willing to consent: alwaies provided, that it be no imbarrement of -love betweene your wife and mee, albeit I have good reason to alledge, -that she began the quarrell first: and what I do is but to right -my wrong, as any other woman of spirit would do: Afterwards, -we may the more easily pardon one another. For breach of peace -(answered <i>Zeppa</i>) between my wife and you, take my honest word -for your warrant. Moreover, in requitall of this favour to mee, I -will bestowe a deare and precious Jewell on you, excelling all the -rest which you have beside.</p> - -<p>In delivering these words, he sweetly kissed and embraced her, as -she sat on the Chest wherein her husband lay: now, what they did -else beside, in recompence of the wrong received, I leave to your -imagination, as rather deserving silence, then immodest blabbing. -<i>Spinelloccio</i>, being all this while in the Chest, hearing easily all the -words which <i>Zeppa</i> had uttered, the answer of his wife, as also what -Musicke they made over his head: you may guesse in what a case -he was, his heart being ready to split with rage, and, but that hee -stood in feare of <i>Zeppa</i>, he would have railde and exclaimed on his -wife, as thus hee lay shut up in the Chest. But entering into better -consideration, that so great an injury was first begun by himselfe, & -<i>Zeppa</i> did no more, then in reason and equity he might well do (having -evermore carried himselfe like a kinde neighbour and friend towards -him, without the least offer of distaste) he faithfully resolved, -to be a firmer friend to <i>Zeppa</i> then formerly hee had bin, if it might -be embraced and accepted on the other side.</p> - -<p>Delights and pleasures, be they never so long in contenting and -continuance, yet they come to a period and conclusion at last: So -<i>Zeppa</i>, having ended his amorous combate, and over the head of his -perfidious friend, thought himselfe sufficiently revenged. But now, -in consideration of a further promise made on the bargaine; <i>Spinelloccioes</i> -wife challengeth the Jewel, then which kind of recompence, -nothing can be more welcome to women. Heereupon, <i>Zeppa</i> calling -for his owne wife, commanded her to open the Chest; which shee -did, and he merrily smiling, saide. Well wife, you have given mee a -Cake insted of bread, and you shal lose nothing for your labour. So -<i>Spinelloccio</i> comming forth of the Chest, it requireth a better witte -then mine, to tell you, which of them stood most confounded with -shame, either <i>Spinelloccio</i> seeing <i>Zeppa</i>, and knowing well enough -what he had done: or the woman beholding her husband, who easily -heard all their familiar conference, and the action thereupon so -deservedly performed.</p> - -<p>See neighbour, is not this your dearest Jewell? Having kept it awhile -in my wives custody; according to my promise, here I deliver -it you. <i>Spinelloccio</i> being glad of his deliverance out of the Chest, -albeit not a little ashamed of himselfe; without using many impertinent -words, saide. <i>Zeppa</i>, our wrongs are equally requited on each -other, and therefore I allow thy former speeches to my Wife, that -thou wast my friend, as I am the like to thee, and so I pray thee let us -still continue. For nothing else is now to bee divided betweene us, -seeing we have shared alike in our wives, which none knowing but -our selves, let it be as closely kept to our selves. <i>Zeppa</i> was wel pleased -with the motion, and so all foure dined lovingly together, without -any variance or discontentment. And thence forward, each of -the Women had two Husbands, as either Husband enjoyed two -Wives, without further contention or debate.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Maestro_Simone_an_ydle-headed_Doctor_of_Physicke_was_throwne_by" id="Maestro_Simone_an_ydle-headed_Doctor_of_Physicke_was_throwne_by"><i>Maestro</i> Simone, <i>an ydle-headed Doctor of Physicke, was throwne by</i> -Bruno <i>and</i> Buffalmaco, <i>into a common Leystall of Filth: The Physitian -fondly beleeving, that (in the night time) he should bee made -one of a new created Company, who usually went to see wonders, at</i> -Corsica; <i>and there in the Leystall they left him.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Ninth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is approved, that Titles of Honour, Learning, and Dignity, -are not alwayes bestowne on the wisest men.</i></h4> - - -<p>After that the Ladies had a while considered, on the communication -betweene the two Wives of <i>Sienna</i>, and the -falshood in friendship of their Husbands: the Queene, -who was the last to recount her Novell, without offering injurie to -<i>Dioneus</i>, began to speake thus.</p> - -<p>The reward for a precedent Wrong committed, which <i>Zeppa</i> retorted -upon <i>Spinelloccio</i>, was answerable to his desert, and no more -then equity required, in which respect, I am of opinion, that such -men ought not to be over-sharpely reproved, as do injurie to him, -who seeketh for it, and justly should have it, although Madam <i>Pampinea</i> -(not long since) avouched the contrary. Now, it evidently -appeareth, that <i>Spinelloccio</i> well deserved what was done to him, -and I purpose to speake of another, who needs would seeke after his -owne disgrace. The rather to confirme my former speeches, that -they which beguile such wilfull foolish men; are not to bee blamed, -but rather commended. And he unto whom the shame was done, -was a Physitian, which came from <i>Bologna</i> to <i>Florence</i>; and returned -thither againe like unto a Beast, notoriously baffulled and disgraced.</p> - -<p>It is a matter well knowne to us, and (almost) observed day by -day, that divers of our Citizens, when they returne from their studying -at <i>Bologna</i>: one becommeth an Advocate, another a Physitian, -and a third a Notarie, with long & large gowns, some of Scarlet, -and hoods furred with Minever, beside divers other great apparances, -succeeding effectually daily in their severall kinds. Among -whom, there returned (not long since) thence, one Master <i>Simon -da Villa</i>, more rich in possessions left him by his parents, then anie -knowledge thereto obtained: yet cloathed in Scarlet, with his Miniver -hood, and styled a Doctor of Physicke, which title hee onely -bestowed on himselfe, and tooke a goodly house for his dwelling, -in the street which wee commonly call <i>La via del Cocomero</i>. This -Master Doctor <i>Simon</i>, being thus newly come thither, among other -notable qualities in him, had one more especiall then any of the -rest, namely, to know the names and conditions of such persons, as -daily passed by his doore, and what professions they were of, whereby -any likelyhood might be gathered of needing his helpe, and being -his patients, observing them all with very vigilant care.</p> - -<p>But, among all the rest by him thus warily noted, he most observed -two Painters, of whom we have heeretofore twice discoursed, -<i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i>, who walked continually together, and were -his neere dwelling neighbours. The matter which most of al he noted -in them, was; that they lived merrily, and with much lesse care, -then any else in the Cittie beside, and verily they did so in deede. -Wherefore, he demanded of divers persons, who had good understanding -of them both, of what estate and condition they were. -And hearing by every one, that they were but poore men & Painters: -he greatly mervailed, how it could be possible for them, that -they should live so jocondly, and in such poverty. It was related to -him further beside, that they were men of a quicke and ingenious -apprehension, whereby hee politikely imagined, that theyr poore -condition could not so well maintaine them; without some courses -else, albeit not publiquely knowne unto men, yet redounding -to their great commoditie and profite. In which regard, he grew -exceeding desirous, by what meanes he might become acquainted, -and grow into familiarity with them both, or any of them, at the -least; wherein (at the length) he prevailed, and <i>Bruno</i> proved to be -the man.</p> - -<p>Now <i>Bruno</i> plainly perceiving (within a short while of this new -begun acquaintance) that the Physitian was a Logger-head, and -meerely no better then a <i>Gregorian</i> Animall: he beganne to have -much good pastime with him, by telling him strange and incredible -Tales, such as none but a Coxcombe would give credit too; yet -they delighted Doctor Dunce extraordinarily, and <i>Brunoes</i> familiarity -was so highly pleasing to him, that he was a daily guest at dinner -and supper with him, and hee was not meanly proud of enjoying -his company. One day, as they sate in familiar conference together, -he told <i>Bruno</i> that he wondred not a little at him and <i>Buffalmaco</i>, -they being both so poore people, yet lived far more jovially -then Lords, and therefore desired to understand, by what secret -meanes they compassed such mirthfull maintenance. <i>Bruno</i>, -hearing the Doctors demaund, & perceiving that it favoured more -of the foole, then any the very least taste of wisedome: smiled unto -himselfe, and determined to returne him such an answere, as might -be fitting for his folly, whereupon, thus he replied.</p> - -<p>Beleeve me Master Doctor, I would not impart to many people, -what private helpes we have for our maintenance: but yet I dare -boldly acquaint you therewith, in regard you are one of our most -intimate friends, and of such secrecie, as (I know) you will not reveale -it to any. True it is, that mine honest neighbour and my selfe, -do leade our lives in such merry manner as you see, and better then -all the world is aware of, for I cannot imagine you to bee so ignorant, -but are certainly perswaded: that if we had no better means, -then our poore manuall trade and profession; we might sit at home -with bread and water, and be nothing so lively spirited as wee are. -Yet Sir, I would not have you to conceive, that wee do eyther rob -or steale, or use any other unlawfull courses: onely we travayle to -<i>Corsica</i>, from whence we bring (without the least prejudice to anie -other) all things we stand in need of, or whatsoever wee can desire. -Thus do we maintaine our selves well and honestly, and live in this -mirthfull disposition.</p> - -<p>Master Doctor hearing this Discourse, and beleeving it constantly, -without any further instruction or intelligence: became possessed -with verie much admiration, and had the most earnest desire in -the world, to know what this Travailing to <i>Corsica</i> might meane: -entreating <i>Bruno</i> with very great instances, to tell him what it -was, and made many protestations never to disclose it to anie one. -How now Master Doctor? answered <i>Bruno</i>, What a strange motion -do you make to mee? It is too great a secret, which you desire -to know, yea, a matter of mine owne ruine, and an utter expulsion -out of this Worlde, with condemnation into the mouth of -<i>Lucifer da San Gallo</i>, if any man whatsoever should know it from -me, wherefore I pray you to urge it no more. O my deer and honest -neighbour <i>Bruno</i> (quoth the Doctor) assure thy selfe upon my soul, -that whatsoever thou revealest to me, shall be under seale from all, -but onely our selves. Fie, fie Master Doctor, answered <i>Bruno</i>, you -are too pressing and importunate. So sitting smiling to himselfe, shaking -his head, and beating his breast, as if hee were in some straunge -distraction of minde, stamping with his feete, and beating his Fiste -oftentimes on the Table, at last he started uppe, and spake in this -manner.</p> - -<p>Ah Master Doctor, the love I beare to your capricious and rarely -circumcised experience, and likewise the confidence I repose in -your scrutinous taciturnitie, are both of such mighty and prevailing -power; as I cannot conceale any thing from you, which you covet -to know. And therefore, if you wil sweare unto me by the crosse of -<i>Monteson</i>, that never (as you have already faithfully promised) you -will disclose a secret so admirable; I will relate it unto you, and not -otherwise. The Doctor sware, and sware againe, and then <i>Bruno</i> -thus began.</p> - -<p>Know then my learned and judicious Doctor, that it is not long -time since, when there lived in this Citie of ours, a man very excellent -in the Art of Nigromancie, who named himselfe <i>Michale Scoto</i>, -because he was a Scottishman borne, of many woorthy Gentlemen -(very few of them being now living) hee was much honoured -and respected. When he grew desirous to depart from hence, upon -their earnest motion and entreaty; he left here two of his Schollers -behinde him, men of absolute skill and experience: giving them -especiall charge and command, to do all possible services they could -devise, for those Gentlemen who had so highly honoured him. The -two famous Schollers, were very helpefull to those Gentlemen, in -divers of their amorous occasions, and verie many other matters -besides.</p> - -<p>Not long after, they finding the Citie, and behaviour of the people -sufficiently pleasing to them; they resolved on their continuance -heere, entering into a league of love and friendshippe with divers, -never regarding, whether they were Gentlemen, or no, or distinguishing -the poore from the rich: but only in being conforme to -their complexions, sociable and fit for friendship.</p> - -<p>They created a kinde Society, consisting of about five and twenty -men, who should meete together twice in a moneth, & in a place -reputed convenient for them: where being so assembled, every man -uttered his minde to those two Schollers, in such cases as they most -desired, to have wherewith they were all satisfied the self-same night. -It came so to passe, that <i>Buffalmaco</i> and I, grew into acquaintance -with those two worthy Schollers, and our private familiarity together -proved so prosperous, that we were admitted into the same Society, -and so have ever since continued. Now Sir, I am to tell you -matter deserving admiration, & which (in very good judgements) -would seeme to exceed all beleefe.</p> - -<p>For, at every time when we were assembled together: you are -not able to imagine, what sumptuous hangings of Tapistrie, did adorne -the Hall where we sate at meate, the Tables covered in such -Royall manner, waited on by numberlesse Noble and goodly attendants, -both Women and Men, serving readily, at each mans -command of the company. The Basins, Ewers, Pots, Flaggons, & -all the vessels else which stood before, and for the service of our diet, -being composed onely of Gold and Silver, and out of no worse did -we both eate and drinke: the viands being very rare and dainty, abounding -in plenty and variety, according to the appetite of everie -person, as nothing could be wished for, but it was instantly obtained.</p> - -<p>In good sadnesse Sir, I am not able to remember and tell you -(within the compasse of a thousand yeares) what, and how manie -severall kindes of Musicall Instruments, were continually played on -before us; what multiplicity of Waxe lights burned in all partes of -the roomes; neither the excessive store of rich Drugs, Marchpanes, -Comfites, and rare Banquetting stuffe, consumed there at one Feasting, -wherein there wanted no bounty of the best and purest wines. -Nor do I (Master Doctor) repute you so weakly witted, as to think, -that in the time of our being thus assembled there, any of us al were -cloathed in such simple and meane Garments, as ordinarily are -worne in the streets on mens bodies, or any so silly as the verie best -you have: No Sir, not any one man among us, but appeared by his -apparrell, equall to the greatest Emperour on the earth, his robe -most sumptuously imbroidered with precious stones, Pearles, and -Carbuncles, as all the world affoordeth not the like. But above all -the rest, the delights and pleasures there, are beyond my capacity to -expresse, or (indeede) any comparison: as namely, store of goodly -and beautifull women, brought thither from all parts of the world; -alwayes provided, if men bee desirous of their company: but for -your easier comprehension, I will make some briefe relation of them -to you, according as I heard them there named.</p> - -<p>There is the great Lady of <i>Barbanicchia</i>; the Queene of <i>Baschia</i>; -the Wife to the great <i>Soldane</i>, the Empresse of <i>Osbeccho</i>; the <i>Ciancianfera</i> -of <i>Norniera</i>; the <i>Bemistante</i> of <i>Berlinzona</i>; and the <i>Scalpedra</i> -of <i>Narsia</i>. But why do I breake my braine, in numbering up so -many to you? All the Queenes of the world are there, even so farre -as to the <i>Schinchimurra</i> of <i>Prester John</i>, that hath a horne in the -midst of her posteriores, albeit not visible to every eye.</p> - -<p>Now I am further to tell you, that after we have tasted a Cup of -precious Wine, fed on a few delicate Comfits, and danced a dance -or two to the rare Musicke: every one taketh a Lady by the hand, -of whom he pleaseth to make his election, and she conducteth him -to her Chamber, in very grave and gracious manner. Concerning -the Chambers there, each of them resembleth a Paradise to looke -on, they are so faire and goodly; and no lesse odorifferous in smell, -then the sweetest perfumes in your Apothecaries shoppes, or the -rare compounds of Spices, when they are beaten in an open Morter. -And as for the Beds, they are infinitely richer, then the verie -costliest belonging to the Duke of <i>Venice</i>: yet (in such) each man is -appointed to take his rest, the Musicke of rare Cymbals lasting all -night long, much better to be by you considered, then in my rude -eloquence expressed.</p> - -<p>But of all those rich and sumptuous Beds (if pride of mine owne -opinion do not deceive me) them two provided for <i>Buffalmaco</i> and -me, had hardly any equall: he having the Queene of <i>France</i> as his -Lady and Mistresse, and I, the renowned Queene of <i>England</i>, the -onely two choise beauties of the whole World, and wee appeared -so pleasing in their eyes, as they would have refused the greatest -Monarkes on the earth, rather then to bee rejected by us. Now -therefore, you may easily consider with your selfe, what great reason -we have to live more merrily, then any other men can doe: in -regard we enjoy the gracious favour of two such Royall Queenes, -receyving also from them (whensoever wee please to commaund -them) a thousand or two thousand Florines at the least, which are -both truly and duly sent us. Enjoying thus the benefit of this high -happinesse, we that are companions of this Society, do tearme it in -our vulgar Language, <i>The Pyrats voyage to Corsica</i>. Because, as -Rovers or Pyrats robbe and take away the goodes of such as they -meete withall, even so do we: only there remaineth this difference -betweene us, that they never restore what they have taken: which -we do immediately afterward, whether it be required or no. And -thus Master Doctor, as to my most endeered friend, I have now revealed -the meaning of sayling to <i>Corsica</i>, after the manner of our -private Pyracie, and how important the close retention of the voiage -is, you are best able your selfe to judge: In which regarde, remember -your Oathes and faithfull promises, or else I am undone -forever.</p> - -<p>Our worthy wise Doctor, whose best skill scarsely extended so -farre, as to cure the itch in Children; gave such sound beleefe to -the relation of <i>Bruno</i>, as any man could doe, to the most certaine -truth of life or death: having his desire immeasurably enflamed, -to bee made a member of this straunge Societie, which hee more -coveted, then any thing in the world beside, accounting it a felicity -farre beyond all other.</p> - -<p>Whereupon he answered <i>Bruno</i>, that it was no great matter of -mervaile, if he lived so merrily as he did, having such a singular supply, -to avoide all necessities whatsoever: and very hardly could he -refraine from immediate request, to be accepted into the company. -But yet he thought fit to deferre it further, untill he had made <i>Bruno</i> -more beholding to him, by friendly entertainments and other -courtesies, when he might (with better hope) be bold to move the -motion.</p> - -<p>Well may you conceive, that nothing more hammerd in the Doctors -head, then this rare voyage to <i>Corsica</i>, and <i>Bruno</i> was his daily -guest at dinner and supper, with such extraordinary apparances -of kindnesse and courtesie, as if the Physitian could not live, except -he had the company of <i>Bruno</i>. Who seeing himselfe to bee so lovingly -respected, and hating ingratitude, for favours so abundantly -heaped on him: hee painted the whole story of Lent about his -Hall, and an <i>Agnus Dei</i> fairely gilt, on the portall of his Chamber, -as also a goodly Urinall on his street doore, to the end, that such as -had neede of his counsell, might know where so judicious a Doctour -dwelt. In a Gallery likewise by his Garden, he painted the furious -Battaile betweene the Rats and Cats, which did (not a little) delight -Master Doctor.</p> - -<p>Moreover, at such times as Bruno had not supt with our Physitian, -he would bee sure to tell him on the morrow, that the night passed, -he had bin with the Company which he did wot of. And there -(quoth he) the Queene of <i>England</i> having somewhat offended mee, -I commanded, that the <i>Gomedra</i>, belonging to the <i>Grand Cham</i> of -<i>Tartaria</i>, should be brought me, and instantly shee was. What -may be the meaning of <i>Gomedra</i> be? saide the Doctor, I understand -not those difficult names. I beleeve you Sir, answered <i>Bruno</i>, nor -do I need to marvaile thereat: and yet I have heard <i>Porcograsso</i> -speake, and also <i>Vannacenna</i>, and both unexperienced in our Language. -You would say (replyed the Doctour) <i>Hippocrates</i> and <i>Avicenna</i>, -who were two admirable Physitians. It may be so (said <i>Bruno</i>) -& as hardly do I understand your names, as you mine: but <i>Gomedra</i>, -in the <i>Grand Chams</i> language, signifies Empresse in ours. But -had you once seene her Sir, she would make you forget all Physicall -observations, your arguments, receits and medicines, onely to be in -her heavenly presence, which words he used (perceiving his forward -longing) to enflame him the more. Not long after, as the doctor was -holding the candle to <i>Bruno</i>, at the perfecting the bloody Battayle -of the Cattes and Rattes, because he could never bee wearied in his -Companie, and therefore was the more willing, to undergoe the -office of the Candle-holder: he resolved to acquaint him with his -minde, and being all alone by themselves, thus he began.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i>, as heaven knoweth, there is not this day any creature living, -for whom I would gladly do more, then for thee, and the very -least word of thy mouth, hath power to commaund mee to goe -bare-footed, even from hence so farre as to <i>Peretola</i>, and account -my labour well employed for thy sake: wherefore, never wonder -at my continuall kindnesse towards thee, using thee as my Domesticke -companion, and embracing thee as my bosome friend, and -therefore I am the bolder in mooving one request unto thee. As -thou well knowest, it is no long while since, when thou diddest acquaint -me with the behaviour of the <i>Corsicane</i> Roving Company, -to be one in so rare and excellent a Society, such hath bin my earnest -longing ever since, as day nor night have I enjoyed anie rest, -but should thinke my felicity beyond all compare, if I could be entertained -in fellowship among you.</p> - -<p>Nor is this desire of mine but upon great occasion, as thou thy -selfe shalt perceive, if I prove accepted into your Societie, and let -me then be made a mocking stocke for ever, if I cause not to come -thither, one of the most delicate young women, that ever anie eye -beheld, and which I my selfe saw (not above a yeare since) at <i>Cacavinciglia</i>, -on whom I bestowed my intirest affection, and (by the -best Urinall that ever I gazed on) would have given her tenne faire -<i>Bologninaes</i>, to yeeld the matter I moved to her, which yet I could -not (by any meanes) compasse. Therefore, with all the flowing faculties -of my soule I entreate thee, and all the very uttermost of my -all indeede; to instruct me in those wayes and meanes, whereby I -may hope to be a member of you. Which if thou dooest accomplish -for me, and I may finde it effectually performed: I shall not -onely be thy true and loyall friend for ever, but will honour thee -beside, beyond all men living.</p> - -<p>I know thee to bee a man of judgement, deepely informed in all -well-grounded experience: thou seest what a propper, portly, and -comely man I am, how fitly my legges are answerable to my body, -my lookes amiable, lovely, and of Rosie colour; beside I am a Doctor -of Physicke, of which profession (being only most expedient) -I thinke you have not one in your Society. I have many commendable -qualities in me, as, playing on divers instruments, exquisite in -singing, and composing rare ditties, whereof I will instantly sing -thee one. And so he began to sing.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i> was swolne so bigge with desire of laughter, that hee had -scarsely any power to refraine from it: neverthelesse, he made the -best meanes he could devise: and the Song being ended, the Physition -saide. How now <i>Bruno</i>? What is thine Opinion of my singing? -Beleeve me Sir, replyed <i>Bruno</i>, the Vialles of <i>Sagginali</i>, will -loose their very best tunes, in contending against you, so mirilifficially -are the sweet accents of your voice heard. I tell thee truly <i>Bruno</i> -(answered Master Doctor) thou couldst not by any possibility have -beleeved it, if thou hadst not heard it. In good sadness Sir (said <i>Bruno</i>) -you speake most truly. I could (quoth the Doctor) sing thee infinite -more beside, but at this time I must forbeare them. Let mee -then further informe thee <i>Bruno</i>, that beside the compleat perfections -thou seest in me, my father was a Gentleman, although he dwelt -in a poore Country village, and by my mothers side, I am derived -from them of <i>Vallecchio</i>. Moreover, as I have formerly shewn thee, -I have a goodly Library of Bookes, yea, and so faire and costly garments, -as few Physitians in <i>Florence</i> have the like. I protest to thee -upon my faith, I have one gowne, which cost me (in readie money) -almost an hundred poundes in <i>Bagattinoes</i>, and it is not yet above -ten yeares old. Wherefore let me prevaile with thee, good <i>Bruno</i>, -to worke so with the rest of thy friends, that I may bee one of your -singular Society; and, by the honest trust thou reposest in mee, bee -boldly sick whensoever thou wilt, my paines and Physicke shall be -freely thine, without the payment of one single peny. <i>Bruno</i> hearing -his importunate words, and knowing him (as all men else did -beside) to be a man of more words then wit, saide. Master Doctor, -snuffe the candle I pray you, and lend me a little more light with it -hitherward, until I have finished the tailes of these Rats, and then I -wil answer you.</p> - -<p>When the Rats tailes were fully finished, <i>Bruno</i> declaring by outward -behaviour, that he greatly distasted the matter mooved, thus -answered. Worthy Master Doctor, the courtesies you have already -extended towards me, and the bountifull favours promised beside, -I know to be exceeding great, and farre beyond the compasse -of any merit in me. But concerning your request, albeit in respect -of your admired braine and Wisedome, it is of little or no moment -at all; yet it appeareth over-mighty to mee, and there is not -any man now living in the world, that hath the like Authoritie over -me, and can more commaund me, then you (with one poore -syllable) easily may doe: as well in regarde of my Love and Dutie, -as also your singular and sententious speeches, able not onelie -to make me breake a sound and setled resolution, but (almost) to -move Mountaines out of their places, and the more I am in your -Learned company, so much the faster am I lincked unto you, in -immoveable affection, so farre am I in love with your admirable -qualities. And had I no other reason, to affect you in such endeared -manner, as I doe; yet because you are enamoured of -so rare a beauty, as you have already related to me, it onely were a -motive sufficient to compell me. But indeed I must needs tel you, -that I have not so much power in this case, as you (perhaps) do imagine, -which barreth me from such forward readines, as otherwise -needed not to be urged. Neverthelesse, having so solemnly ingaged -your faith to me, and no way misdoubting your faithfull secrecy, I -shall instruct you in some meanes to be observed; and it appeareth -plainly to me, that being furnished with such plenty of Bookes, as -you are, and other rich endowments, as you have before rehearsed, -you cannot but attaine to the full period of your longing desire.</p> - -<p>Speake boldly thy minde <i>Bruno</i>, answered the Doctour: for, I -perceive thou hast no perfect knowledge of me as yet, neither what -an especiall gift I have of secrecy. <i>Messer Gasparino da Salicete</i>, when -he was Judge and Potestat over the people of <i>Forlini</i>, made choise -of mee (among infinite of his dearest friends) to acquaint with a secret -of no meane moment. And such a faithfull Secretary he found -me, as I was the onely man, that knew his mariage with <i>Bergamino</i>; -why then should any distrust be made of me? If it be so as you say -Sir (answered <i>Bruno</i>) your credit is the sounder, and I dare the better -adventure on your fidelity: the meanes then which you are to -worke by, I shall now direct you in.</p> - -<p>We have alwayes in this noble Society of ours, a Captaine, and -two Counsellors, which are changed at every six months end. And -now at Christmas next (so neere drawing on) <i>Buffalmaco</i> shal be elected -Captaine, and my selfe one of the Counsellers, for so it is already -agreed on, and orderly set downe. Now, he that is Captain, -may doe much more then any other can, and appoint matters as -himselfe pleaseth. Wherefore I thinke it very expedient, that so -soone as possibly you may, you procure acquaintance with <i>Buffalmaco</i>, -entreating him with all respective courtesie. Hee is a man, -who when he perceyveth you to be so wonderfully Wise and discreete, -he will be immediately in love with you: so, when you have -your best senses about you, and your richest wearing Garments -on (alwayes remembred, that your acquaintance first be fully confirmed) -then never feare to urge your request, for he can have no -power at all to denie you; because I have already spoken of you -to him, and find him to stand affected unto you verie intirely: thus -when you have begunne the businesse, leave me to deale with him -in the rest.</p> - -<p>Now trust me kinde friend <i>Bruno</i>, replyed the Physitian, I like -your advice exceeding well. For, if hee be a man, that taketh delight -to converse with men of skill and judgement, and you have -made the way for his knowing me: he wil then thirst, and long to -follow after mee, to understand the incredible eloquence flowing -from me, and the rare composition of my Musicall Ditties, out of -which he may learne no meane wisedome. When the matter was -thus agreed on betweene them, <i>Bruno</i> departed thence, & acquainted -<i>Buffalmaco</i> with everie circumstance: which made him thinke -everie day a yeare, untill he might joyne in the fooling of Mayster -Doctour, according to his owne fancie. Who beeing also as -desirous on the other side, to make one in the <i>Corsicane</i> Voyage; -could take no manner of rest either by day or night, till he was linked -in friendship with <i>Buffalmaco</i>, which very quickely after hee -compassed.</p> - -<p>For now there wanted no costly dinners and suppers, with al delicates -could be devised, for the entertainement of <i>Buffalmaco</i> and -<i>Bruno</i>; who, like Guests very easie to be invited, where rich wines -and good cheare are never wanting, needed little sending for, because -his house was as familiar to them, as their owne. In the -end, when the Physitian espyed an opportunitie apt for the purpose, -he made the same request to <i>Buffalmaco</i>, as formerly hee had -done to <i>Bruno</i>. Whereat <i>Buffalmaco</i>, sodainly starting, and looking -frowningly on <i>Bruno</i>, as if he were extraordinarily incensed against -him: clapping his hand furiously on the Table, he sayde. I -sweare by the great God of <i>Pasignano</i>, that I can hardly refrayne -from giving thee such a blow on the face, as should make thy Nose -to fall at thy heeles: vile Traitor as thou art: for none beside thy -selfe, could discover so rare and excellent a secret unto this famous -Physitian. The Doctour, with verie plausible and pleasing -tearmes, excused the matter verie artificially; protesting, that another -had revealed it unto him: and after many wise circumstantiall -Allegations, at length hee prevailed so farre, that <i>Buffalmaco</i> -was pacified; who afterwardes turning in kinde manner, thus hee -beganne.</p> - -<p>Master Doctour, you have lived both at <i>Bologna</i>, and heere in -these partes with us, having (no doubt) sufficiently understoode, -what it is to carry a close mouth, I meane the true Charracter of taciturnitie. -Questionlesse, you never learned the A. B. C. as now -foolish Ideots do, blabbing their lessons all about the towne, which -is much better apprehended by rumination; and surely (if I be not -much deceyved) your Nativity happened on a Sonday morning, -Sol being at that time, Lord of the ascendent, joyned with <i>Mercurie</i> -in a fierie Triplicitie. By such conference as I have had with -<i>Bruno</i>, I conceyved (as he himselfe also did) that you were verie -singular in Physicke onely: but it seemeth, your Studies reached -a higher straine, for you have learned, and know verie skilfullie, -how to steale mens hearts from them, yea, to bereave them of -their verie soules, which I perceyve that you can farre better doe, -then any man else living to my knowledge, only by your wise, witty, -judicious, and more then meere <i>Mercurian</i> eloquence, such as I -never heard before.</p> - -<p>The Physitian interrupting him bashfully, turned himselfe unto -<i>Bruno</i>, saying. Did not I tell thee this before? Observe what a notable -thing it is, to speake well, and to frequent the company of the -Wise. A thousand other, meerely blockes and dullardes by Nature, -could never so soone comprehend all the particularities of my -knowledge, as this honest and apprehensive man hath done. Thou -didst not search into it halfe so soone, nor (indeed) did I expresse a -quarter of my ingenuity to thee, as (since his comming) hath prodigally -flowne from me.</p> - -<p>Well do I remember thy words, that <i>Buffalmaco</i> delighted to be -among men of Wisedome: and have I not now fitted him unto his -owne desire? How thinkest thou <i>Bruno</i>? The best (quoth <i>Bruno</i>) -that any man living in the World could do. Ah worthy <i>Buffalmaco</i>, -answered the Physitian: What wouldst thou then have sayde, if -thou hadst seene me at <i>Bologna</i>, where there was neyther great nor -small, Doctor nor Scholler, but thought themselves happy by being -in my company? If I ought any debts, I discharged them with -my very wittie words; and whensoever I spake, I could set them al -on a hearty laughter, so much pleasure they tooke in hearing mee. -And when I departed thence, no men in the world could bee more -sorrowfull then they, as desiring nothing more then my remayning -among them, which they expressed so apparantly, that they made -humble suite and intercession to me, to bee cheefe Reader of the -Physicke-Lecture, to all the Schollers studying our profession. But -I could not be so perswaded, because my minde was wholly addicted -hither, to enjoy those Goods, Landes, and Inheritances, belonging -lineally to them of our house, and accordingly I did performe -it.</p> - -<p>How now <i>Buffalmaco</i> (quoth <i>Bruno</i>) what is thine opinion now? -Thou wouldst not beleeve me when I told thee, that there is not a -Doctor in all these parts, more skilfull in distinguishing the Urine -of an Asse, from any other, then this most expert and singular man: -and I dare boldly maintaine it, that his fellow is not to bee found, -from hence to the very gates of <i>Paris</i>. Go then, and doe the uttermost -endeavour that thou canst, to grant the request which he hath -made.</p> - -<p>Beleeve me <i>Buffalmaco</i>, saide the Doctor, <i>Bruno</i> hath spoken nothing -but truth, for I am scarsely knowne heere in this City, where -(for the most part) they are all grosse-witted people, rather then any -jot judicious; but I would thou hadst seene me among the Doctors, -in manner as I was wont to be. Introth Sire, replyed <i>Buffalmaco</i>, -you are my much more Learned then ever I imagined, in which -respect, speaking unto you as it becommeth me, to a man so excellent -in wit and understanding: I dare assure you that (without any -faile) I wil procure you to be one of our Company.</p> - -<p>After this promise thus made, the good cheare, favours and kindnesses -done by the Doctor to them, was beyond the compasse of all -relation: whereof they made no more then a meere mockery, flouting -him to his face, and yet his Wisedome could not discerne it. -Moreover, they promised, that they would give him to Wife, the -faire Countesse <i>di Civillari</i>, who was the onely goodliest creature -to be found in the whole <i>Culattario</i> of humane generation. The -Doctor demanded, what Countesse that was? Oh Sir, answered -<i>Buffalmaco</i>, she is a great Lady, one worthy to have issue by; and -few houses are there in the world, where she hath not some jurisdiction -and command: so that not meane people onely, but even the -greatest Lords, at the sound of her Trumpets, do very gladlie pay -her tribute. And I dare boldly affirme, that whensoever shee walketh -to any place, shee yeeldeth a hot and sensible favour, albeit she -keepeth most of all close. Yet once every night, shee duely observeth -it (as a Custome) to passe from her owne house, to bathe her -feete in the River of <i>Arno</i>, and take a little of the sweeter Ayre: -albeit her continuall residencie, is within the Kingdome of <i>Laterino</i>.</p> - -<p>She seldome walketh abroad, but goeth with her attending Officers -about her, who (for more demonstration of her greatnesse) do -carry the Rod and plummet of Lead. Store of her Lords and Barons -are every where to be seene; as the <i>Tamagaino della porta, Don -Meta di Sirropa; Manico di Scopa; Signior Squacchera,</i> and others -beside, who are (as I suppose) oftentimes your daily visitants, when -of necessity they must be remembred. All our care and courtesie -shall extend so farre (if we doe not faile in our enterprize) to leave -you in the armes of so Majestick a Ladie, quite forgetting hir of <i>Cacavinciglia</i>.</p> - -<p>The Physitian, who was borne and brought up at <i>Bologna</i>, and -therefore understoode not these <i>Florentine</i> tearmes: became fully -contented to enjoy the Ladie; and, within some few dayes following, -the Painters brought him tydings, that they had prepared the -way for his entertainment into the Societie of Rovers. The day -being come, when the supposed assembly was to be made the night -following: the Physitian invited them both to dinner; when he demanding, -what provision he shold make for his entrance into their -company, <i>Buffalmaco</i> returned him this answer, whereto he gave -very heedfull attention.</p> - -<p>Master Doctor, you must be first of all, strongly armed with resolution -and confidence: for if you be not, you may not only receyve -hindrance, but also do us great harme beside: and now you -shall heare, in what manner, and how you are to be bold and constant. -You must procure the meanes, this instant night, when all -the people are in their soundest sleepe, to stand upon one of those -high exalted Tombs or Monuments, which are in the Churchyard -of <i>Santa Maria Novella</i>, with the very fairest gowne you have about -you, because you may appeare in the more honourable condition, -before the assembly seated together, and likewise to make good -our speeches already delivered of you, concerning your qualitie & -profession: that the Countesse, perceyving you to bee a woorthie -Gentlemen, may have you first honoured with the Bathe, and afterward -Knighted at her owne cost and charge. But you must continue -stil upon the Tombe (dreadlesse of nightly apparitions & visions) -untill such time as we send for you.</p> - -<p>And for your better information in every particulare; a Beast, -blacke and horned, but of no great stature, will come to fetch you: -perhaps he will use some gastly noises, straunge leapes, and loftie -trickes, onely to terrifie and affright you: but when he perceiveth -that he cannot daunt you, hee will gently come neere you, which -when he hath done, you may descend from off the Tombe; and, -without naming or thinking on God, or any of his Saintes, mount -boldly on his backe, for he will stand ready to receive you. Being -so seated, crosse your armes over your brest, without presuming to -touch or handle the Beast, for he will carry you thence softly, and -so bring you along to the company. But if in all this time of your -travaile, you call on heaven, any Saint, or bee possessed with the -least thought of feare: I must plainely tell you, that either hee will -cast you dangerously, or throw you into some noysome place. And -therefore, if you know your selfe, not to be of a constant courage, -and sprightly bold, to undertake such an adventure as this: never -presume any further, because you may doe us a great deale of injurie, -without any gaine or benefite to your selfe, but rather such -wrong, as we would be very sorry should happen unto so deere a -Friend.</p> - -<p>Alas honest <i>Buffalmaco</i>, answered the Physitian, thou art not halfe -acquainted with me as yet: because I walke with gloves upon my -hands, and in a long Gowne, thou perhappes doest imagine mee a -faint-hearted fellow. If thou didst know, what I have heeretofore -done at <i>Bologna</i> in the night time, when I and my Consorts went -to visite pretty wenches, thou wouldst wonder at my couragious -attempts. As I am a Gentleman, one night, we met with a young -<i>Bona Roba</i>, a paltry greene-sicknesse baggage, scarsely above a Cubite -in height, & because she refused to go with us willingly, I gave -her a kicke on the bum, and spurnde her more then a Crosse-bowe -shoote in distance from me, and made her walke with us whether -she would, or no. Another time I remember, when having no other -company but my boy, I went thorow the Churchyard of the -Fryars Minors, after the sounding of <i>Ave Maria</i>: a woman hadde -beene buried there the very same day, and yet I was not a jotte affraid.</p> - -<p>Wherefore, never be distrustfull of mee, but resolvedly builde -upon my courage. And in regard of my more honourable entertainment, -I will then weare my Scarlet Gowne and Hood, wherein -I receyved my graduation; and then do both of you observe, what -a rejoycing will be among the whole company, at the entertaining -of such as a man as I am, enough to create me Captaine immediately. -You shall perceive also how the case will go, after I have beene -there but a while, in regard that the Countesse (having as yet never -seene me) is so deepely enamored of mee: she cannot choose but -bestow the Bathe and Knight-hood on me, which shee shall have -the more honour of, in regard I am well able to maintaine it, therefore -referre all the rest to mee, and never misdoubt your injurie or -mine.</p> - -<p>Spoken like a Gallant, replyed <i>Buffalmaco</i>, and I feare not now, -but we shall winne credite by your company. But be carefull I pray -you, that you make not a mockery of us, and come not at all, or -fayle to be there, when the Beast shall be sent for you; I speake it -the rather, because it is cold weather, and you Gentlemen Physitians -can hardly endure it. You are carefull of mee (quoth the Doctor) -and I thanke you for it, but I applaud my faire Starres, I am -none of your nice or easie-frozen fellowes, because cold weather is -very familiar to me. I dare assure you, when I arise in the night time -for that naturall office whereto all men are subject, I weare no warmer -defence, then my thin wastcoat over my shirt, and finde it sufficient -for the coldest weather at any time.</p> - -<p>When <i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i> had taken their leave, the Physitian, -so soone as night drew neere, used many apt excuses to his wife, -stealing forth his Scarlet Gowne and Hood unseene of any, wherewith -being clothed: at the time appointed, he got upon one of the -Marble Tombes, staying there (quaking with cold) awaiting when -the Beast should come. <i>Buffalmaco</i>, being a lusty tall man of person, -had got an ugly masking suite, such as are made use of in Tragedies -and Playes, the out-side being of black shagged haire, wherewith -being cloathed, he seemed like a strange deformed Beare, and -a Divels vizard over his face, with two gastly horrible hornes, and -thus disguised, <i>Bruno</i> following him, they went to behold the issue -of the businesse, so farre as the new Market place, closely adjoining -to <i>Santa Maria Novella</i>.</p> - -<p>Having espyed Master Doctor uppon the Tombe, <i>Buffalmaco</i> in -his misshapen habite, began to bound, leape, and carriere, snuffling -and blowing in mad and raging manner: which when the Physitian -saw, his haire stood on end, he quaked and trembled, as being -more fearfull then a Woman, wishing himselfe at home againe in -his house, rather then to behold a sight so dreadfull. But because he -was come forth, and had such an earnest desire, to see the wonders -related to him; he made himselfe so coragious as possibly he could, -and bare all out in formall manner. After that <i>Buffalmaco</i> had (an -indifferent while) plaide his horse-trickes, ramping and stamping -somewhat strangely: seeming as become of much milder temper, -he went neere to the Tomb whereon the Physitian stood, and there -appeared to stay contentedly.</p> - -<p>Master Doctor, trembling and quaking still extreamely, was so -farre dismayed, as he knew not what was best to be done, either to -mount on the beasts backe, or not to mount at all. In the end, thinking -no harme could happen to him, if he were once mounted, with -the second feare, hee expelled the former, and descending downe -softly from the Tombs, mounted on the beast, saying out alowde: -God, Saint Dominicke, and my good Angell helpe to defend mee. -Seating himselfe so well as he could, but trembling still exceedingly; -he crossed his armes over his stomacke, according to the Lesson -given him.</p> - -<p>Then did <i>Buffalmaco</i> shape his course in milde manner, toward -<i>Santa Maria della Scala</i>, and groping to finde his way in the darke, -went on so farre as the Sisters of <i>Ripole</i>, commonly called the <i>Virgin -Sanctuary</i>. Not farre off from thence, were divers trenches & -ditches, wherein such men as are imployed in necessary night-services, -used to empty the Countesse <i>di Civillari</i>, and afterward imployed -it for manuring Husbandmens grounds. <i>Buffalmaco</i>, being -come neere one of them, he stayed to breath himselfe awhile, and -then catching fast hold on one of the Doctours feete, raysed him -somewhat higher on his back, for the easier discharging of his burthen, -and so pitched him (with his head forwardes) into the Lay-stall.</p> - -<p>Then began he to make a dreadfull kinde of noise, stamping and -trampling with his feete, passing backe againe to <i>Santa Maria della -Scala</i>, and to <i>Prato d'Ognissanti</i>, where hee met with <i>Bruno</i>, who -was constrained to forsake him, because he could not refraine from -lowde Laughter, then both together went backe once more, to see -how the Physitian would behave himselfe, being so sweetely embrued.</p> - -<p>Master Doctor, seeing himselfe to bee in such an abhominable -stinking place, laboured with all his utmost endevour, to get himself -released thence: but the more he contended and strove for getting -forth, he plunged himselfe the further in, being most pitifully myred -from head to foot, sighing and sorrowing extraordinarily, because -much of the foule water entred in at his mouth. In the end, -being forced to leave his hood behinde him, scrambling both with -his hands and feet, he got landing out of his stinking Labyrinth, & -having no other means, home he returned to his own house, where -knocking at the doore, he was at length admitted entrance. The -doore being scarse made fast againe after his letting in, <i>Buffalmaco</i> -and <i>Bruno</i> were there arrived, listning how M. Doctor should bee -welcomd home by his angry wife: who scolding and railing at him -with wonderfull impatience, gave him most hard and bitter speeches, -terming him the vilest man living.</p> - -<p>Where have you bin Sir? quoth she. Are you become a night-walker -after other Women? And could no worse garments serve -your turne, but your Doctors gown of Scarlet? Am I to suffer this -behaviour? Or am not I sufficient to content you, but you must be -longing after change? I would thou hadst bin stifled in that foule -filth, where thy fouler life did justly cast thee. Behold goodly Master -Doctor of the Leystall, who being maried to an honest woman -must yet go abroad in the night time, insatiatly lusting after whores -and harlots. With these and the like intemperate speeches, she ceased -not to afflict and torment him, till the night was almost spent, -and the Doctor brought into a sweeter savour.</p> - -<p>The next morning, <i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i>, having colourd their -bodyes with a strange kinde of painting, resembling blisters, swellings, -and bruises, as if they had bin extreamly beaten; came to the -Physitians house, finding him to be newly up, al the house yet smelling -of his foule savour (although it had bin very well perfumed) -and being admitted to him in the Garden, hee welcommed them -with the mornings salutations. But <i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i> (being otherwise -provided for him) delivering stearne and angry lookes, -stamping and chafing, <i>Bruno</i> thus replyed.</p> - -<p>Never speake so faire and flattering to us, for we are moved beyond -all compasse of patience. All misfortunes in the worlde fall -upon you, and an evill death may you dye, like the most false and -perfidious Traitor living on the earth. We must beate our braines, -and move all our most endeared friends, onely for your honour and -advancement: while wee were well neere starved to death in the -cold like Dogs, and, by your breach of promise, have bin this night -so extreamly beaten, as if (like Asses) we should have beene driven -to <i>Rome</i>.</p> - -<p>But that which is most greevous of all, is danger of excluding -out of the Society, where wee tooke good order for your admittance, -and for your most honourable entertainment. If you wil not -credit us, behold our bodies, and let your owne eyes be witnesses, -in what cruell manner we have bin beaten. So taking him aside under -the Gallery, where they might not be discovered by over-much -light, they opened their bosomes, shewed him their painted bodies, -and sodainly closed them up againe.</p> - -<p>The Physitian laboured to excuse himselfe, declaring his misfortunes -at large, and into what a filthy place he was throwne. It maketh -no matter (answered <i>Buffalmaco</i>) I would you had bin throwen -from off the Bridge into <i>Arno</i>, where you might have beene -recommended to the Divell, and all his Saints. Did not I tell you -so much before. In good sadnesse (quoth the Doctor) I neyther -commended my selfe to God, nor any of his Saints. How? sayde -<i>Buffalmaco</i>, I am sure you will maintaine an untrueth, you used a -kinde of recommendation: for our messenger told us, that you talked -of God, S. <i>Dominicke</i>, and your good Angell, whom you desired -to assist you, being so affrighted with feare, that you trembled -like a leafe upon a tree, not knowing indeede where you were. Thus -have you unfaithfully dealt with us, as never any man shall doe the -like againe, in seeking honour, and losing it through your own negligence.</p> - -<p>Master Doctor humbly entreated pardon, and that they would -not revile him any more, labouring to appease them by the best -words he could use, as fearing least they should publish this great -disgrace of him. And whereas (before) he gave them gracious welcomes; -now he redoubled them with farre greater courtesies, feasting -them daily at his own table, and evermore delighting in their -company. Thus (as you have heard) two poore Painters of <i>Florence</i>, -taught Master Doctor better Wit, then all the Learned at -<i>Bologna</i>.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="A_Cicilian_Courtezane_named_Madame_Biancafiore_by_her_craftie" id="A_Cicilian_Courtezane_named_Madame_Biancafiore_by_her_craftie"><i>A Cicilian Courtezane, named Madame</i> Biancafiore, <i>by her craftie -wit and policie, deceived a young Merchant, called</i> Salabetto, <i>of all -the money he had taken for his Wares at</i> Palermo. <i>Afterward, he -making shew of comming hither againe, with farre richer Merchandises -then hee brought before: made the meanes to borrow a -great summe of Money of her, leaving her so base a pawne, as well -requited her for her former cozenage.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Tenth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Whereby appeareth, that such as meet with cunning Harlots, and suffer -themselves to be deceived by them: must sharpen their Wits, to -make them requitall in the selfesame kinde.</i></h4> - - -<p>Needlesse it were to question, whether the Novell related -by the Queene, in divers passages thereof, mooved the -Ladies to hearty laughter, and likewise to compassionate -sighes and teares; as pittying Madame <i>Helena</i> in her hard misfortune, -and yet applauding the Scholler for his just revenge. But -the discourse being ended, <i>Dioneus</i>, who knew it was his Office to -be the last speaker every day, after silence was commanded, he began -in this manner.</p> - -<p>Worthy Ladies, it is a matter very manifest, that deceits do appeare -so much the more pleasing, when (by the selfe-same meanes) -the subtle deceyver is artificially deceived. In which respect, though -you all have reported very singular deceits: yet I meane to tel you -one, that may prove as pleasing to you, as any of your owne. And -so much the rather, because the woman deceived, was a great and -cunning Mistris in beguiling others; equalling (if not excelling) any -of your former beguilers.</p> - -<p>It hath bene observed heretofore, and (happily) at this very day -it is as frequent, that in all Cities and Townes upon the Sea-coasts, -having Ports for the benefit and venting Merchandises; Merchants -use to bring their wealthy laden Vessels thither. And when they -unlade any Ship of great fraught, there are prepared Store-houses, -which in many places are called <i>Magazines</i> or <i>Doganaes</i>, at the -charge of the Communalty, or Lord of the Towne or City, for the -use whereof, they receive yearly gain and benefit. Into those warehouses, -they deliver (under writing, and to the owners of them in especiall -charge) all their goods and merchandises, of what price or -valew soever they are.</p> - -<p>Such as be the Owners of these Magazines, when the Wares are -thus stored uppe in them, doe safely locke them up there with their -keyes, having first registred downe truly all the goods, in the Register -belonging to the Custome-house, that the Merchant may have -a just account rendred him, and the rights payed to the Custome-house, -according to the Register, and as they are either in part, or -in all made sale of.</p> - -<p>Brokers are continually there attending, being informed in the -quality of the Merchandises stored, and likewise to what Merchants -they appertaine: by meanes of these men, and according as the -goods come to their hands, they devise to have them exchaunged, -trucked, vented, and such other kinds of dispatches, answerable to -the mens minds, and worth of the Commodities. As in many other -Kingdomes and Countries, so was this custome observed at -<i>Palermo</i> in <i>Sicily</i>, where likewise then were, and (no doubt) now a-dayes -are, store of Women, faire and comely of person, but yet -vowed enemies to honesty.</p> - -<p>Neverthelesse, by such as know them not, they are held and reputed -to be blamelesse Women, and by yeilding their bodyes unto -generall use, are the occasion of infinite misfortunes to men. For -so soone as they espy a Merchant-stranger there arrived, they win -information from the Booke belonging to the Magazin, what wares -are therein stored, of what valew they bee, and who is the Owner -of them. Afterwards, by amorous actions, and affable speeches, -they allure young Merchants to take knowledge of them, to bee familiar -in their company, till from some they get most part of their -wealth, from others all. Nay, divers have gone so farre, as to make -Port-sale of Ship, Goods, and Person, so cunningly they have bene -shaven by these Barbers, and yet without any Razor.</p> - -<p>It came to passe, and no long time since, that a young <i>Florentine</i> -of ours, named <i>Niccolo da Cignano</i>, but more usually called <i>Salabetto</i>, -imployed as Factor for his Maister, arrived at <i>Palermo</i>; his -Ship stored with many Woollen Cloathes, a remainder of such as -had bin sold at the Mart of <i>Salerno</i>, amounting in valew to above -five hundred Florines of Gold. When he had given in his packet -to the Custome-house, and made them up safe in his Ware-house; -without making shew of desiring any speedy dispatch, he delighted -to view all parts of the City, as mens minds are continuallie addicted -to Novelties. He being a very faire and affable young man, easie -to kindle affection in a very modest eie: it fortuned, that a Courtezane, -one of our before remembred shavers, who termed hir selfe -Madame <i>Biancafiore</i>, having heard somewhat concerning his affairs, -beganne to dart amorous glances at him. Which the indiscreete -youth perceyving, and thinking her to be some great Lady: began -also to grow halfe perswaded, that his comely person was pleasing -to her, and therefore he would carrie this good fortune of his somewhat -cautelously.</p> - -<p>Without imparting his mind unto any one, he would daily passe -too and fro before her doore; which she observing, and having indifferently -wounded him with her wanton piercing lookes: she began -to use the first tricke of her Trade, by pretending her enflamed -affection towards him, which made her pine and consume away in -care, except he might be moved to pitty her. Whereupon, she sent -one of her <i>Pandoraes</i> unto him, perfectly instructed in the Art of a -<i>Maquerella</i>, who (after many cunning counterfetted sighes, and -teares, which she had alwayes ready at command) told him; that -his comely person and compleate perfections, had so wounded the -very soule of her Mistresse, as she could enjoy no rest in any place, -either by day or night. In regard whereof, she desired (above all -things else) to meete with him privately in a Bathe: with which -Wordes, she straightway tooke a Ring forth of her pursse, and in -most humble manner, delivered it unto him, as a token from her -Mistresse.</p> - -<p><i>Salabetto</i> having heard this Message, was the onely joyfull man -that could be: and having receyved the Ring, looking on it advisedly; -first kissed it, and then put it upon his finger. Then in answer to -the Messenger, he sayd: That if her Mistresse <i>Biancafiore</i> affected -him, she sustained no losse thereby, in regard he loved her as fervently, -and was ready to be commanded by her, at any time whensoever -she pleased.</p> - -<p>She having delivered this message to her Mistresse, was presently -returned backe againe to him, to let him understand, in which of -the Bathes she meant to meet him, on the next morrow in the evening. -This being counsell for himselfe onely to keepe, he imparted -it not to any friend whatsoever; but when the houre for their meeting -was come, he went unto the place where he was appointed, a -Bathe (belike) best agreeing with such businesse.</p> - -<p>Not long had he taried there, but two Women slaves came laden -to him, the one bearing a Mattresse of fine Fustian on hir head, -and the other a great Basket filled with many things. Having spred -the Mattresse in a faire Chamber on a Couch-bed, they covered it -with delicate white Linnen sheets, all about embroidred with faire -Fringes of gold, then laid they on costly quilts of rich Silkes, artificially -wrought with gold and silver knots, having pearles and precious -stones interwoven among them, and two such rich pillowes, -as sildome before had the like bin seene. <i>Salabetto</i> putting off his -garments, entred the Bath prepared for him, where the two Slaves -washed his body very neatly. Soone after came <i>Biancafiore</i> hirselfe, -attended on by two other women slaves, and seeing <i>Salabetto</i> in the -Bathe; making him a lowly reverence, breathing forth infinite dissembled -sighes, and teares trickling downe her cheekes, kissing and -embracing him, thus she spake.</p> - -<p>I know not what man else in the worlde, beside thy selfe, could -have the power to bring me hither: the fire flew from thy faire eies -(O thou incompareable lovely <i>Tuscane</i>) that melted my soule, and -makes me onely live at thy command. Then hurling off her light -wearing garment (because she came prepared for the purpose) shee -stept into the bathe to him, and, not permitting the Slaves a-while -to come neere, none but her selfe must now lave his body, with -Muske compounded Sope and Gilly-floures. Afterward, the slaves -washed both him and her, bringing two goodly sheetes, softe and -white, yeelding such a delicate smell of Roses, even as if they had -bene made of Rose-leaves. In the one, they folded <i>Salabetto</i>, and -her in the other, and so conveyed them on their shoulders unto the -prepared Bed-Couch, where because they should not sweate any -longer, they tooke the sheets from about them, and laid them gently -in the bed.</p> - -<p>Then they opened the Basket, wherein were divers goodly Silver -bottles, some filled with Rosewaters, others with flowers of Orenges, -and Waters distilled of Gelsomine, Muske, and Amber-Greece, -wherewith (againe) the slaves bathed their bodyes in the -bed, & afterward presented them with variety of Comfites, as also -very precious Wines, serving them in stead of a little Collation. -<i>Salabetto</i> supposed himself to be in Paradise: for this appeared to be -no earthly joy, bestowing a thousand gladsome gazes on her, who -(questionlesse) was a most beautifull creature, and the tarrying of -the Slaves, seemed millions of yeares to him, that hee might more -freely embrace his <i>Biancafiore</i>. Leaving a Waxe Taper lighted in -the Chamber, the slaves departed, and then shee sweetly embracing -<i>Salabetto</i>, bestowed those further favours on him, which hee -came for, and she was not squeamish in the affoording; whereof he -was exceedingly joyfull, because he imagined, that they proceeded -from the integrity of her affection towards him.</p> - -<p>When she thought it convenient time to depart thence, the slaves -returned; they cloathed themselves, and had a Banquet standing -ready prepared for them; where-with they cheared their wearyed -spirits, after they had first washed in odorifferous waters. At parting: -<i>Salabetto</i> (quoth she) whensoever thy leysures shal best serve -thee, I will repute it as my cheefest happinesse, that thou wilt accept -a Supper and Lodging in my house, which let it be this instant -night, if thou canst. He being absolutely caught, both by hir beauty -and flattering behaviour: beleeved faithfully, that he was as intirely -beloved of her, as the heart is of the body: whereuppon hee -thus answered. Madame, whatsoever pleaseth you, must needes -be much more acceptable unto mee: and therefore, not onely -may command my service this night, but likewise the whole employment -of my life, to be onely yours in my very best studies and -endeavours.</p> - -<p>No sooner did she heare this answer, but she returned home to -her owne house, which she decked in most sumptuous manner, and -also made ready a costly Supper, expecting the arrivall of <i>Salabetto</i>: -who when the darke night was indifferently well entred, went -thither, and was welcommed with wonderfull kindnesse, wanting -no costly Wines and Delicates all the Supper while. Being afterward -conducted into a goodly Chamber, he smelt there admirable -sweete senting savours, such as might well beseeme a Princes Pallace. -He beheld a most costly Bed, and very rich furniture round -about the roome: which when he had duly considered to himself, -he was constantly perswaded, that she was a Lady of infinite wealth. -And although he had heard divers flying reports concerning her -life, yet hee would not credite any thing amisse of her, for albeit -she might (perhappes) beguile some other; yet shee affected him -(he thought) in better manner, and no such misfortune could happen -to him.</p> - -<p>Having spent all the night with her in wanton dalliances, & being -risen in the morning; to enflame his affection more and more -towards her, and to prevent any ill opinion he might conceyve of -her, she bestowed a rich and costly Girdle on him, as also a pursse -most curiously wrought, saying to him. My sweet <i>Salabetto</i>, with -these testimonies of my true affection to thee, I give thee faithfully -to understand, that as my person is onely subjected thine; so this -house and all the riches in it, remaineth absolutely at thy disposition, -or whatsoever hereafter shal happen within the compasse of my -power.</p> - -<p>He being not a little proud of this her bountifull offer (having -never bestowed any gift on her, because by no meanes shee would -admit it) after many sweet kisses and embraces; departed thence, -to the place where the Merchants usually frequented: resorting to -her (from time to time) as occasion served, and paying not one single -peny for all his wanton pleasure, by which cunning baytes (at -length) she caught him.</p> - -<p>It came to passe, that having made sale of all his Clothes, whereby -hee had great gaines, and the moneyes justly payed him at the -times appointed: <i>Biancafiore</i> got intelligence thereof; yet not by -him, but from one of the Brokers. <i>Salabetto</i> comming one night to -sup with her, she embraced and kissed him as she was wont to doe, -and seemed so wonderfully addicted in love to him, even as if shee -would have dyed with delight in his armes. Instantly, shee would -needs bestow two goodly gilt standing Cuppes on him, which <i>Salabetto</i> -by no meanes would receive, because she had formerly bin -very bountifull to him, to above the value of an hundred Crowns, -and yet she would not take of him so much as a mite. At length, -pressing still more tokens of her love and bounty on him, which he -as courteously denied, as she kindly offered: one of her Women-slaves -(as shee had before cunningly appointed) sodainely calling -her, forthwith she departed out of her Chamber. And when she -had continued a pretty while absent, she returned againe weeping; -and throwing her selfe downe upon her Pallet, breathed forth such -sighes and wofull lamentations, as no Woman could possibly doe -the like.</p> - -<p><i>Salabetto</i> amazedly wondering thereat, tooke her in his Armes, -and weeping also with her, said. Alas my deare Love, what sodain -accident hath befalne you, to urge this lamentable alteration? If you -love me, hide it not from me. After he had often entreated her in -this manner, casting her armes about his necke, and sighing as if her -heart would breake, thus she replyed.</p> - -<p>Ah <i>Salabetto</i>, the onely Jewell of my joy on earth, I knowe not -what to do, or say, for (even now) I received Letters from <i>Messina</i>, -wherein my Brother writes to me, that although it cost the sale -of all my goods, or whatsoever else I have beside, I must (within -eight dayes space) not faile to send him a thousand Florins of gold, -or else he must have his head smitten off, and I know not by what -meanes to procure them so soone. For, if the limitation of fifteene -dayes might serve the turne; I could borrow them in a place, where -I can command a farre greater summe, or else I would sel some part -of our Lands. But beeing no way able to furnish him so soone, I -would I had died before I heard these dismall tydings. And in the -uttering of these words, she graced them with such cunning dissembled -sorrow, as if she had meant truly indeed.</p> - -<p><i>Salabetto</i>, in whom the fury of his amorous flames, had consumed -a great part of his necessary understanding; beleeving these -counterfetted tears and complaints of hers, to proceed from an honest -meaning soule; rashly and foolishly thus replied. Deare <i>Biancafiore</i>, -I cannot furnish you with a thousand golden Florines, but am -able to lend you five hundred, if I were sure of their repayment at -fifteene dayes, wherein you are highly beholding to Fortune, that -I have made sale of all my Cloathes; which if they had lyen still on -my hand, my power could not stretch to lend you five Florines. -Alas deare heart (quoth she) would you be in such want of money, -and hide it from her that loves you so loyally? Why did you not -make your need knowne to me? Although I am not furnished of a -thousand Florines; yet I have alwaies ready three or foure hundred -by me, to do any kinde office for my friend. In thus wronging me, -you have robd me of all boldnes, to presume upon your offer made -me. <i>Salabetto</i>, far faster inveigled by these words then before, said. -Let not my folly (bright <i>Biancafiore</i>) cause you to refuse my friendly -offer, in such a case of extreme necessity: I have them ready prepared -for you, and am heartily sory, that my power cannot furnish -you with the whole summe.</p> - -<p>Then catching him fast in her armes, thus she answered. Now I -plainly perceive, my dearest <i>Salabetto</i>, that the love thou bearest -me is true and perfect; when, without expectation of being requested, -thou art readie to succour me in such an urgent neede, & with -so faire a summe of Florines. Sufficiently was I thine owne before, -but now am much more ingaged by so high deserving; with this -particular acknowledgement for ever, that my Brothers head was -redeemed by thy goodnesse onely. Heaven beareth me record, how -unwilling I am to be beholding in this kind, considring that you are -a Merchant, & Merchants furnish al their affairs with ready monis: -but seeing necessity constraineth me, and I make no doubt of repaiment -at the time appointed: I shall the more boldly accept your -kindnes, with this absolute promise beside, that I wil rather sell all -the houses I have, then breake my honest word with you.</p> - -<p>Counterfeit teares still drayning downe her cheeks, and <i>Salabetto</i> -kindly comforting her; he continued there with hir all that night, -to expresse himselfe her most liberall servant. And, without expecting -any more requesting, the next morning he brought her the -five hundred Florines, which she received with a laughing heart, -but outward dissembled weeping eies; <i>Salabetto</i> never demanding -any other security, but onely her single promise.</p> - -<p><i>Biancafiore</i>, having thus received the five hundred Florines, the -indiction of the Almanacke began to alter: and whereas (before) -<i>Salabetto</i> could come see her whensoever he pleased, many occasions -now happened, whereby he came seven times for once, and yet -his entrance was scarsely admitted, neither was his entertainment -so affable, or his cheare so bountifull, as in his former accesses thither. -Moreover, when the time for repaiment was come, yea a moneth -or two over-past, and he demanded to have his money; hee -could have nothing but words for paiment. Now he began to consider -on the craft and cunning of this wicked Woman, as also his -owne shallow understanding, knowing he could make no proofe of -his debt, but what her selfe listed to say, having neither witnes, specialty, -bill or bond to shew: which made his folly so shamefull to -him, that he durst not complaine to any person, because he had received -some advertisements before, whereto he wold by no means -listen, and now should have no other amends, but publike infamie, -scorne and disgrace, which made him almost weary of his life, and -much to bemoane his owne unhappinesse. He received also divers -Letters from his Master, to make returne of the 500. Florines over -by way of banke, according as he had used to do: but nowe could -performe no such matter.</p> - -<p>Hereupon, because his error should not be discovered, he departed -in a small vessell thence, not making for <i>Pisa</i>, as he should have -done, but directly for <i>Naples</i> hee shaped his course. At that instant -lodged there, <i>Don Pietro della Canigiano</i>, Treasurer of the Empresse -of <i>Constantinople</i>, a man of great wisedome and understanding, as -also very ingenious and politike, he being an especiall Favourer of -<i>Salabetto</i> and all his friendes, which made him presume the more -boldly (being urged thereto by meere necessity, the best corrector -of wandering wits) to acquaint him with his lamentable misfortune, -in every particular as it had hapned, requesting his aid and advice, -how he might best weare out the rest of his dayes, because hee -never meant to visit <i>Florence</i> any more.</p> - -<p><i>Canigiano</i> being much displeased at the repetition of his Follie, -sharply reproved him, saying. Thou hast done leudly, in carying thy -selfe so loosely, and spending thy Masters goods so carelesly, which -though I cannot truly tearme spent, but rather art meerely cousened -and cheated of them, yet thou seest at what a deere rate thou -hast purchased pleasure, which yet is not utterly helplesse, but may -by one meanes or other be recovered. And being a man of woonderfull -apprehension, advised him instantly what was to bee done, -furnishing him also with a summe of money, wherewith to adventure -a second losse, in hope of recovering the first againe: he caused -divers Packes to be well bound up, with the Merchants markes orderly -made on them, and bought about twenty Buttes or Barrelles, -all filled (as it were) with Oyle, and these pretended commodities -being shipt, <i>Salabetto</i> returned with them to <i>Palermo</i>. Where having -given in his packets to the Custome-house, and entred them -all under his owne name, as being both owner and factor: all his -Wares were lockt up in his <i>Magizine</i>, with open publication, that -he would not vent any of them, before other merchandises (which -he daily expected) were there also arrived.</p> - -<p><i>Biancafiore</i> having heard thereof, and understanding withall, that -he had brought Merchandises now with him, amounting to above -two thousand Florins, staying also in expectation of other commodities, -valewing better then three thousand more, she beganne to -consider with her selfe, that she had not yet gotten money enough -from him, and therefore would cast a figure for a farre bigger booty. -Which that she might the more fairely effect, without so much -as an imagination of the least mistrust: she would repay him backe -his five hundred Florines, to winne from him a larger portion of -two or three thousand at the least, and having thus setled her determination, -she sent to have him come speake with her. <i>Salabetto</i>, -having bene soundly bitten before, and therefore the better warranted -from the like ranckling teeth; willingly went to her, not shewing -any signe of former discontent: & she, seeming as if she knew -nothing of the wealth he brought with him; gracing him in as loving -manner as ever she had done, thus she spake.</p> - -<p>I am sure <i>Salabetto</i>, you are angry with mee, because I restored -not your Florines at my promised day. <i>Salabetto</i> smiling, presently -answered. Beleeve me Lady (quoth he) it did a little distast me, -even as I could have bin offended with him, that should plucke out -my heart to bestow it on you, if it would yeelde you any contentment. -But to let you know unfainedly, how much I am incensed -with anger against you: such and so great is the affection I beare -you, that I have solde the better part of my whole estate, converting -the same into Wealthy Merchandises, which I have alreadie -brought hither with mee, and valewing above two thousand Florines, -all which are stored up in in my <i>Magazine</i>. There must they remaine, -till another Ship come forth of the Western parts, wherein -I have a much greater adventure, amounting unto more then -three thousand Florines. And my purpose is, to make my aboade -heere in this City, which hath won the sole possession of my heart, -onely in regard of my <i>Biancafiore</i>, to whom I am so intirely devoted, -as both my selfe, and whatsoever else is mine (now or hereafter) is -dedicated onely to her service; whereto thus she replyed.</p> - -<p>Now trust me <i>Salabetto</i>, whatsoever redoundeth to thy good -and benefite, is the cheefest comfort of my soule, in regard I prize -thy love dearer then mine owne life, and am most joyfull of thy returne -hither againe; but much more of thy still abiding heere, because -I intend to live onely with thee, so soone as I have taken order -for some businesse of import. In the meane while, let me entreate -thee to hold me excused, because before thy departure hence, thou -camest sometimes to see me, without thy entrance admitted; and -other-whiles againe, found not such friendly entertainement, as -formerly had bene affoorded. But indeede, and above all the rest, -in not re-paying thy money according to my promise. But consider -good <i>Salabetto</i>, in what great trouble and affliction of minde I -then was, both in regard of my Brothers danger, and other important -occurrences beside, which molestations do much distract the -senses, and hinder kinde courtesies, which otherwise would bee extended -liberally.</p> - -<p>Last of all consider also, how difficult a thing it is for a woman, -so sodainly to raise the summe of a thousand golden Florines, when -one friend promiseth, and performeth not; another protesteth, yet -hath no such meaning; a third sweareth, and yet proveth a false Lyar: -so that by being thus ungently used, a breach is made betweene -the best friends living. From hence it proceeded, and no other defect -else, that I made not due returne of your five hundred Florins. -No sooner were you departed hence, but I had them readie, and as -many more, and could I have knowne whither to send them, they -had bene with you long time since, which because I could not (by -any meanes) compasse, I kept them still for you in continuall readinesse, -as hoping of your comming hither againe. So causing a purse -to be brought, wherein the same Florines were, which hee had delivered -her; she gave it into his hand, and prayed him to count them -over, whether there were so many, or no.</p> - -<p>Never was <i>Salabettoes</i> heart halfe so joyfull before; and having -counted them, found them to be his owne five hundred Florines: -then, putting them up into his pocket, he saide. Comfort of my -life, Full well I know that whatsoever you have saide, is most certaine; -but let us talke no more of falshood in friendship, or casuall -accidents happening unexpected: you have dealt with mee like a -most loyall Mistresse, and heere I protest unfainedly to you, that as -well in respect of this kinde courtesie, as also the constancy of mine -affection to you, you cannot request hereafter a far greater summe -of me, to supply any necessarie occasion of yours; but (if my power -can performe it) you shall assuredly finde it certaine: make proofe -thereof whensoever you please, after my other goods are Landed, -and I have established my estate here in your City.</p> - -<p>Having in this manner renewed his wonted amity with her, and -with words farre enough off from all further meaning: <i>Salabetto</i> -began againe to frequent her company, she expressing all former familiarity, -and shewing her selfe as lavishly bountifull to him, in all -respects as before she had done, nay, many times in more magnificent -manner.</p> - -<p>But he intending to punish her notorious trechery towards him, -when she left him as an open scorne to the World, wounded with -disgrace, and quite out of credit with all his friends: she having (on -a day) solemnly invited him, to suppe and lodge in her house all -night; he went, both with sad and melancholly lookes, seeming as -overcome with extreamity of sorrow. <i>Biancafiore</i> mervayling at -this strange alteration in him, sweetly kissing and embracing him: -would needs know the reason of his passionate affliction, & he permitting -her to urge the question oftentimes together, without returning -any direct answere; to quit her in her kind, and with coine -of her owne stampe, after a few dissembled sighes, he began in this -manner.</p> - -<p>Ah my dearest Love, I am utterly undone, because the Shippe -containing the rest of mine expected Merchandises, is taken by the -Pyrates of <i>Monago</i>, and put to the ransome of tenne thousand Florines -of Gold, and my part particularly, is to pay one thousand. At -this instant I am utterly destitute of money, because the five hundred -Florines which I received of you, I sent hence the next daie -day following to <i>Naples</i>, to buy more cloathes, which likewise are -to be sent hither. And if I should now make sale of the Merchandizes -in my Magazine (the time of generall utterance being not yet -come) I shall not make a pennyworth for a penny. And my misfortune -is the greater, because I am not so well knowne heere in your -City, as to find some succour in such an important distresse; wherefore -I know not what to do or say. Moreover, if the money be not -speedily sent, our goods will be carried into <i>Monago</i>, and then they -are past all redemption utterly.</p> - -<p><i>Biancafiore</i> appearing greatly discontented, as one verily perswaded, -that this pretended losse was rather hers, then his, because she -aymed at the mainest part of all his wealth: began to consider with -her selfe, which was the likeliest course to be taken, for saving the -goods from carriage to <i>Monago</i>: whereupon thus she replied. Heaven -knoweth (my dearest <i>Salabetto</i>) how thy love maketh me sorrowfull -for this misfortune, and it greeveth me to see thee any way -distressed: for if I had mony lying by mee (as many times I have) -thou shouldst finde succour from my selfe onely, but indeede I am -not able to helpe thee. True it is, there is a friend of mine, who did -lend me five hundred Florines in my need, to make uppe the other -summe which I borrowed of thee: but he demandeth extreme interest, -because he will not abate any thing of thirty in the hundred, -and if you should bee forced to use him, you must give him some -good security. Now for my part, the most of my goods here I will -pawne for thee: but what pledge can you deliver in to make up the -rest? Wel did <i>Salabetto</i> conceive, the occasion why she urged this -motion, and was so diligent in doing him such a pleasure: for it appeared -evidently to him, that herselfe was to lend the mony, whereof -he was not a little joyful, seeming very thankful to hir. Then he told -her, that being driven to such extremity, how unreasonable soever -the usury was, yet he would gladly pay for it. And for her Friends -further security, hee would pawne him all the goods in his <i>Magazine</i>, -entering them downe in the name of the party, who lent the -money. Onely he desired to keepe the Keyes of the Ware-house, -as well to shew his Merchandises, when any Merchant should bee -so desirous: as also to preserve them from ill using, transporting or -changing, before his redemption of them.</p> - -<p>She found no fault with his honest offer, but sayde, hee shewed -himselfe a well-meaning man, and the next morning shee sent for a -Broker, in whom she reposed especiall trust; and after they had privately -consulted together, shee delivered him a thousand Golden -Florines, which were caried by him presently to <i>Salabetto</i>, and the -Bond made in the Brokers name, of all the goods remaining in <i>Salabettoes</i> -ware-house, with composition and absolute agreement, for -the prefixed time of the monies repaiment. No sooner was this -tricke fully accomplished, but <i>Salabetto</i> seeming as if he went to redeeme -his taken goods: set saile for <i>Naples</i> towards <i>Pietro della Canigiano</i>, -with fifteene hundred Florines of Gold: from whence also -he sent contentment to his Master at <i>Florence</i> (who imployd him -as his Factor at <i>Palermo</i>) beside his owne packes of Cloathes. He -made repayment likewise to <i>Canigiano</i>, for the monies which furnished -him in this last voyage, and any other to whom hee was indebted. -So there he stayed awhile with <i>Canigiano</i>, whose counsel -thus holpe him to out-reach the <i>Sicillian</i> Courtezane: and meaning -to deale in Merchandise no more, afterward he returned to <i>Florence</i> -and there lived in good reputation.</p> - -<p>Now as concerning <i>Biancafiore</i>, when she saw that <i>Salabetto</i> returned -not againe to <i>Palermo</i>, she beganne to grow somewhat abashed, -as halfe suspecting that which followed. After she had tarried -for him above two moneths space, and perceived hee came not, -nor any tydings heard of him: shee caused the Broker to breake open -the Magazine, casting forth the Buttes or Barrels, which shee -beleeved to bee full of good Oyles. But they were all filled with -Sea-Water, each of them having a small quantity of Oyle floating -on the toppe, onely to serve when a tryall should bee made. And -then unbinding the Packes, made up in formall and Merchantable -manner: there was nothing else in them, but Logges and stumpes -of Trees; wrapt handsomely in hurdles of Hempe and Tow; onely -two had Cloathes in them. So that (to bee briefe) the whole did -not value two hundred Crownes: which when she saw, and observed -how cunningly she was deceived: a long while after shee sorrowed, -for repaying backe the five hundred Florines, and folly in -lending a thousand more, using it as a Proverbe alwaies after to hir -selfe: <i>That whosoever dealt with a Tuscane, had neede to have found -sight and judgement.</i> So remaining contented (whither she would -or no) with her losse: she plainly perceyved, that although she lived -by cheating others, yet now at the length she had mette with -her match.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>So soone as <i>Dioneus</i> had ended his Novell, Madame <i>Lauretta</i> -also knew, that the conclusion of her Regiment was -come; whereupon, when the counsell of <i>Canigiano</i> had -past with generall commendation, and the wit of <i>Salabetto</i> no lesse -applauded, for fitting it with such an effectuall prosecution; shee -tooke the Crowne of Laurell from her owne head, and set it upon -Madame <i>Æmilliaes</i>, speaking graciously in this manner. Madam, -I am not able to say, how pleasant a Queene we shall have of you, -but sure I am, that we shall enjoy a faire one: let matters therefore -be so honourably carried; that your government may be answerable -to your beautifull perfections; which words were no sooner delivered, -but she sate downe in her mounted seate.</p> - -<p>Madame <i>Æmillia</i> being somewhat bashfull, not so much of hir -being created Queene, as to heare her selfe thus publikely praysed, -with that which Women do most of all desire: her face then appearing, -like the opening of the Damaske Rose, in the goodlyest -morning. But after she had a while dejected her lookes, and the -Vermillion blush was vanished away: having taken order with the -Master of the houshold, for all needfull occasions befitting the assembly, -thus she began.</p> - -<p>Gracious Ladies, wee behold it daily, that those Oxen which -have laboured in the yoake most part of the day, for their more -convenient feeding, are let forth at liberty, and permitted to wander -abroad in the Woods. We see moreover, that Gardens and -Orchards, being planted with variety of the fairest fruit Trees, are -equalled in beauty by Woods and Forrests, in the plentifull enjoying -of as goodly spreading branches. In consideration whereof, remembring -how many dayes wee have already spent (under the severitie -of Lawes imposed) shaping all our discourses to a forme of -observation: I am of opinion, that it will not onely well become -us, but also prove beneficiall for us, to live no longer under such restraint, -and like enthralled people, desirous of liberty, wee should -no more be subjected to the yoke, but recover our former strength -in walking freely.</p> - -<p>Wherefore, concerning our pastime purposed for to morrow, I -am not minded to use any restriction, or tye you unto any particular -ordination: but rather do liberally graunt, that every one shall -devise and speake of arguments agreeing with your owne dispositions.</p> - -<p>Besides, I am verily perswaded, that variety of matter uttered so -freely, will be much more delightfull, then restraint to one kinde of -purpose onely. Which being thus granted by me, whosoever shal -succeede me in the government may (as being of more power and -preheminence) restraine all backe againe to the accustomed lawes. -And having thus spoken, she dispensed with their any longer attendance, -untill it should be Supper time.</p> - -<p>Every one commended the Queenes appointment, allowing it to -rellish of good wit and judgement; and being all risen, fell to such -exercises as they pleased. The Ladies made Nosegaies and Chaplets -of Flowers, the men played on their Instruments, singing divers -sweete Ditties to them, and thus were busied untill Supper -time. Which beeing come, and they supping about the beautifull -Fountains: after Supper, they fell to singing and dauncing. In the -end, the Queene, to imitate the order of her predecessors, commanded -<i>Pamphilus</i>, that notwithstanding all the excellent songs formerly -sung: he should now sing one, whereunto dutifully obeying, -thus he began.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">THE SONG.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Chorus sung by all.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Love, I found such felicitie,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And joy, in thy captivitie:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As I before did never prove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thought me happy, being in Love.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Comfort abounding in my hart,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Joy and Delight<br /></span> -<span class="i7">In soule and spright<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I did possesse in every part;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O Soveraigne Love by thee.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Thy Sacred fires,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Fed my desires,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">And still aspires,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy happy thrall to bee.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Love, I found such felicity, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">My Song wants power to relate,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">The sweets of minde<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Which I did finde<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In that most blissefull state,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O Soveraigne Love by thee.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">No sad despaire,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Or killing care<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Could me prepare;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still thou didst comfort me.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Love, I found such felicity, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">I hate all such as do complaine,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Blaspheming thee<br /></span> -<span class="i7">With Cruelty,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sleights of coy disdaine.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O Soveraigne Love, to mee<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Thou hast bene kinde:<br /></span> -<span class="i7">If others finde.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Thee worse inclinde,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet I will honour thee.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">LOVE, I found such felicitie,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And joy in thy Captivitie:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As I before did never prove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But thought me happie, being in Love.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>Thus the Song of <i>Pamphilus</i> ended, whereto all the rest (as a -Chorus) answered with their Voyces, yet every one particularly -(according as they felt their Love-sicke passions) made a curious -construction thereof, perhaps more then they needed, yet not Divining -what <i>Pamphilus</i> intended. And although they were transported -with variety of imaginations; yet none of them could arrive -at his true meaning indeed. Wherefore the Queene, perceiving the -Song to be fully ended, and the Ladies, as also the young Gentlemen, -willing to go take their rest: she commaunded them severally -to their Chambers.</p> - - -<h4><i>The End of the Eight Day.</i></h4> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="THE_NINTH_DAY" id="THE_NINTH_DAY">THE -NINTH -DAY.</a></h2> - - -<h4><i>Whereon, under the Government of Madame</i> -<span class="smcap">Æmillia,</span> <i>the Argument of each severall -Discourse, is not limitted to any one peculiar -subject: but every one remaineth at liberty, -to speak of whatsoever themselves best pleaseth.</i></h4> - - -<h4>The Induction.</h4> - - -<p>Faire <i>Aurora</i>, from whose bright -and chearefull lookes, the duskie -darke night flyeth as an utter enemy, -had already reached so high as -the eight Heaven, converting it -all into an Azure colour, and the -pretty Flowrets beganne to spred -open their Leaves: when Madame <i>Æmillia</i>, beeing -risen, caused all her female attendants, and the young -Gentlemen likewise, to be summoned for their personall -appearance. Who being all come, the Queen -leading the way, and they following her Majesticke -pace, walked into a little Wood, not farre off distant -from the Palace.</p> - -<p>No sooner were they there arrived, but they beheld -store of Wilde Beasts, as Hindes, Hares, Goats, -and such like; so safely secured from the pursuite of -Huntsmen (by reason of the violent Pestilence then -reigning) that they stood gazing boldly at them, as -dreadlesse of any danger, or as if they were become -tame and Domesticke.</p> - -<p>Approaching neerer them, first to one, then unto -another, as if they purposed to play gently with -them, they then beganne to skippe and runne, making -them such pastime with their pretty tripping, -that they conceyved great delight in beholding of -them.</p> - -<p>But when they beheld the Sunne to exalt itselfe, it -was thought convenient to return back again, shrouding -themselves under the Trees spreading armes, -their hands full of sweete Flowers and Odorifferous -Hearbes, which they had gathered in their Walking. -So that such as chanced to meete them, could say nothing -else: but that death knew not by what meanes -to conquer them, or els they had set down an absolute -determination, to kill him with their Joviall disposition.</p> - -<p>In this manner, singing, dancing, or prettily pratling, -at length they arrived at the Palace, where they -found all things readily prepared, and their Servants -duly attending for them. After they hadde reposed -themselves awhile, they would not (as yet) sit downe -at the Table, untill they had sung halfe a dozen of -Canzonets, some more pleasant then another, both -the women and men together.</p> - -<p>Then they fell to washing hands, and the Maister -of the Houshold caused them to sit downe, according -as the Queene had appointed, and Dinner was most -sumptuously served in before them. Afterward, when -the Tables were with-drawne, they all tooke handes -to dance a Roundelay; which being done, they plaied -on their Instruments a while; and then, such as so -pleased, tooke their rest. But when the accustomed -houre was come, they all repaired to the place of discoursing, -where the Queen, looking on Madam <i>Philomena</i>, -gave her the honour of beginning the first Novell -for that day: whereto shee dutifully condiscending, -began as followeth.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Madam_Francesca_a_Widdow_of_Pistoya_being_affected_by_two_Florentine" id="Madam_Francesca_a_Widdow_of_Pistoya_being_affected_by_two_Florentine"><i>Madam</i> Francesca, <i>a Widdow of</i> Pistoya, <i>being affected by two</i> Florentine -<i>Gentlemen, the one named</i> Rinuccio Palermini, <i>and the other</i> -Alessandro Chiarmontesi, <i>and she bearing no good will to eyther -of them; ingeniously freed her selfe from both their importunate -suites. One of them she caused to lye as dead in a grave, and the -other to fetch him from thence: so neither of them accomplishing -what they were enjoyned, fayled of obtaining his hoped expectation.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The First Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Approving, that chaste and honest Women, ought rather to deny importunate -suiters, by subtile and ingenious meanes, then fall into the -danger of scandall and slander.</i></h4> - - -<p>Madame, it can no way discontent mee (seeing -it is your most gracious pleasure) that I -should have the honour, to breake the first -staffe of freedome in this faire company (according -to the injunction of your Majesty) -for liberty of our own best liking arguments: -wherein I dismay not (if I can speake well enough) -but to please you all as well, as any -other that is to follow me. Nor am I so oblivious (worthy Ladies) -but full well I remember, that many times hath bene related in our -passed demonstrations, how mighty and variable the powers of -love are: and yet I cannot be perswaded, that they have all bene so -sufficiently spoken of, but something may bee further added, and -the bottome of them never dived into, although we should sit arguing -a whole yeare together. And because it hath beene alreadie -approved, that Lovers have bene led into divers accidents, not onely -inevitable dangers of death, but also have entred into the verie -houses of the dead, thence to convey their amorous friends: I purpose -to acquaint you with a Novell, beside them which have bene -discoursed; whereby you may not onely comprehend the power -of Love, but also the wisedome used by an honest Gentlewoman, -to rid her selfe of two importunate suiters, who loved her against -her owne liking, yet neither of them knowing the others affection.</p> - -<p>In the City of <i>Pistoya</i>, there dwelt sometime a beautifull Gentlewoman, -being a Widdow, whom two of our <i>Florentines</i> (the one -named <i>Rinuccio Palermini</i>, and the other <i>Alessandro Chiarmontesi</i>), -having withdrawne themselves to <i>Pistoya</i> desperately affected, the -one ignorant of the others intention, but each carrying his case -closely, as hoping to be possessed of her. This Gentlewoman, named -Madame <i>Francesca de Lazzari</i>, being often solicited by their -messages, and troublesomely pestered with their importunities: at -last (lesse advisedly then she intended) shee granted admittance to -heare either of them speake. Which she repenting, and coveting to -be rid of them both, a matter not easie to be done: she wittily devised -the onely meanes, namely, to move such a motion to them, as -neither would willingly undertake, yet within the compasse of possibility; -but they failing in the performance, shee might have the -more honest occasion, to bee free from all further molestation by -them, and her politike intention was thus projected.</p> - -<p>On the same day, when she devised this peece of service, a man -was buried in <i>Pistoya</i>, and in the Church-yard belonging unto the -gray Friars, who being descended of good and worthie parentage: -yet himselfe was very infamous, and reputed to be the vilest man living, -not onely there in <i>Pistoya</i>, but throughout the whole World -beside. Moreover, while he lived, he had such a strange misshapen -body, and his face so ugly deformed, that such as knew him not, -would stand gastly affrighted at the first sight of him. In regarde -whereof, shee considered with her selfe, that the foule deformitie -of this loathed fellow, would greatly avayle in her determination, -and consulting with her Chamber-maid, thus she spake.</p> - -<p>Thou knowest (my most true and faithfull servant) what trouble -and affliction of minde I suffer dayly, by the messages and -Letters of the two <i>Florentines, Rinuccio</i> and <i>Alessandro,</i> how hatefull -their importunity is to me, as being utterly unwilling to hear them -speake, or yeeld to any thing which they desire. Wherefore, to -free my selfe from them both together, I have devised (in regard of -their great and liberall offers) to make trial of them in such a matter, -as I am assured they will never performe.</p> - -<p>It is not unknowne to thee, that in the Church-yard of the Gray -Friars, and this instant morning, <i>Scannadio</i> (for so was the ugly -fellow named) was buried; of whom, when he was living, as also -now being dead, both men, women, and children, doe yet stand in -feare, so gastly and dreadfull alwayes was his personall appearance -to them. Wherefore, first of all go thou to <i>Alessandro</i>, and say to -him thus. My Mistris <i>Francesca</i> hath sent me to you, to tell you, -that now the time is come, wherein you may deserve to enjoy her -love, and gaine the possession of her person, if you will accomplish -such a motion as she maketh to you. For some especiall occasion, -wherewith hereafter you shall bee better acquainted, a neere Kinsman -of hers, must needs have the body of <i>Scannadio</i> (who was buried -this morning) brought to her house. And she, being as much -affraid of him now he is dead, as when he was living, by no meanes -would have his body brought thither.</p> - -<p>In which respect, as a Token of your unfeigned love to her, and -the latest service you shall ever do for her: shee earnestly entreateth -you, that this night, in the very deadest time thereof, you would go -to the grave, where <i>Scannadio</i> lyeth yet uncovered with earth untill -to morrow, and attyring your selfe in his garments, even as if you -were the man himselfe, so to remaine there untill her kinsman doe -come.</p> - -<p>Then, without speaking any one word, let him take you foorth -of the grave, & bring you thence (insted of <i>Scannadio</i>) to hir house: -where she will give you gentle welcome, and disappoint her Kinsman -in his hope, by making you Lord of her, and all that is hers, -as afterward shall plainly appeare. If he say he wil do it, it is as much -as I desire: but if hee trifle and make deniall, then boldly tell him, -that he must refraine all places wheresoever I am, and forbeare to -send me any more Letters, or messages.</p> - -<p>Having done so, then repaire to <i>Rinuccio Palermini</i>, and say. My -Mistresse <i>Francesca</i> is ready to make acceptance of your love; provided, -that you will do one thing for her sake. Namely, this ensuing -night, in the midst & stillest season thereof, to go to the grave where -<i>Scannadio</i> was this morning buried, & (without making any noise) -or speaking one word, whatsoever you shall heare or see: to take -him forth of the grave, and bring him home to her house, where you -shal know the reason of this strange businesse, and enjoy her freely -as your owne for ever. But if he refuse to do it, then I commaund -him, never hereafter to see me, or move further suite unto mee, by -any meanes whatsoever.</p> - -<p>The Chamber-maide went to them both, and delivered the severall -messages from her Mistresse, according as she had given her -in charge; whereunto each of them answered, that they woulde -(for her sake) not onely descend into a Grave, but also into hell, if -it were her pleasure.</p> - -<p>She returning with this answer unto her Mistresse, <i>Francesca</i> remained -in expectation, what the issue of these fond attemptes in -them, would sort unto. When night was come, and the middle -houre thereof already past, <i>Alessandro Chiarmontesi</i>, having put off -all other garments to his doublet and hose, departed secretly from -his lodging, walking towards the Church-yard, where <i>Scannadio</i> -lay in his grave: but by the way as he went, hee became surprized -with divers dreadfull conceites and imaginations, and questioned -with himselfe thus.</p> - -<p>What a beast am I? What a businesse have I undertaken? And -whither am I going? What do I know, but that the Kinsman unto -this Woman, perhappes understanding mine affection to her, and -crediting some such matter, as is nothing so; hath laide this politicke -traine for me, that he may murther me in the grave? Which -(if it should so happen) my life is lost, and yet the occasion never -knowne whereby it was done. Or what know I, whether some secret -enemy of mine (affecting her in like manner, as I do) have devised -this stratagem (out of malice) against mee, to draw my life in -danger, and further his owne good Fortune? Then, contrary motions, -overswaying these suspitions, he questioned his thoughts in -another nature.</p> - -<p>Let me (quoth he) admit the case, that none of these surmises are -intended, but her Kinsman (by and in this manner devised) must -bring me into her house: I am not therefore perswaded, that he or -they do covet, to have the body of <i>Scannadio</i>, either to carry it thither, -or present it to her, but rather do aime at some other end. May -not I conjecture, that my close murthering is purposed, and this -way acted, as on him that (in his life time) had offended them? The -Maid hath straitly charged me, that whatsoever is said or done unto -me, I am not to speake a word. What if they pull out mine eies, -teare out my teeth, cut off my hands, or do me any other mischiefe: -Where am I then? Shall all these extremities barre me of speaking? -On the other side, if I speake, then I shall be knowne, and so much -the sooner (perhaps) be abused. But admit that I sustaine no injurie -at all, as being guilty of no transgression: yet (perchance) I shall -not be carried to her house, but to some other baser place, and afterward -she shall reprove me, that I did not accomplish what shee -commanded, and so all my labour is utterly lost.</p> - -<p>Perplexed with these various contradicting opinions, he was willing -divers times to turne home backe againe: yet such was the violence -of his love, and the power thereof prevailing against all sinister -arguments; as he went to the grave, and removing the boordes -covering it, whereinto he entred; and having despoiled <i>Scannadio</i> -of his garments, cloathed himselfe with them, & so laid him down, -having first covered the grave againe. Not long had hee tarryed -there, but he began to bethinke him, what manner of man <i>Scannadio</i> -was, and what strange reports had bene noised of him, not onely -for ransicking dead mens graves in the night season, but many other -abhominable Villanies committed by him, which so fearfully -assaulted him; that his haire stoode on end, every member of him -quaked, and every minute he imagined <i>Scannadio</i> rising, with intent -to strangle him in the grave. But his fervent affection overcoming -all these idle feares, and lying stone still, as if he had beene the -dead man indeede; he remained to see the end of his hope.</p> - -<p>On the contrary side, after midnight was past, <i>Rinuccio Palermini</i> -departed from his lodging, to do what hee was enjoyned by his -hearts Mistresse, and as hee went along, divers considerations also -ran in his minde, concerning occasions possible to happen. As, falling -into the hands of Justice, with the body of <i>Scannadio</i> upon his -backe, and being condemned for sacriledge, in robbing graves of -the dead; either to be burned, or otherwise so punished, as might -make him hatefull to his best friends, and meerely a shame to himselfe.</p> - -<p>Many other the like conceits molested him, sufficient to alter his -former determination: but affection was much more prevayling in -him, and made him use this consultation. How now <i>Rinuccio</i>? Wilt -thou dare to deny the first request, being mooved to thee by a Gentlewoman, -whom thou dearly lovest, and is the onely meanes, -whereby to gaine assurance of her gracious favour? Undoubtedly, -were I sure to die in the attempt, yet I will accomplish my promise. -And so he went on with courage to the grave.</p> - -<p><i>Alessandro</i> hearing his arrivall, and also the removall of the bords, -although he was exceedingly affraid; yet he lay quietly stil, and stirred -not, and <i>Rinuccio</i> beeing in the grave, tooke <i>Alessandro</i> by the -feete, haling him forth, and (mounting him uppon his backe) went -on thus loden, towards the house of Madam <i>Francesca</i>. As he passed -along the streets, unseene or unmet by any, <i>Alessandro</i> suffered many -shrewd rushings and punches, by turnings at the streets corners, -and jolting against bulkes, poasts, and stalles, which <i>Rinuccio</i> could -not avoyd, in regard the night was so wonderfully darke, as hee -could not see which way he went.</p> - -<p>Being come somewhat neere to the Gentlewomans house, and -she standing readie in the Window with her Maide, to see when -<i>Rinuccio</i> should arrive there with <i>Alessandro</i>, provided also of an -apt excuse, to send them thence like a couple of Coxcombes; it fortuned, -that the Watchmen, attending there in the same streete, for -the apprehension of a banished man, stolne into the City contrarie -to order; hearing the trampling of <i>Rinuccioes</i> feete, directed their -course as they heard the noise, having their Lanthorne and light -closely covered, to see who it should be, and what he intended, and -beating their weapons against the ground, demanded, Who goes -there? <i>Rinuccio</i> knowing their voyces, and that now was no time -for any long deliberation: let fall <i>Alessandro</i>, and ran away as fast -as his legs could carry him.</p> - -<p><i>Alessandro</i> being risen againe (although he was cloathed in <i>Scannadioes</i> -Garments, which were long and too bigge for him) fledde -away also as <i>Rinuccio</i> did. All which Madame <i>Francesca</i> easily discerned -by helpe of the Watchmens Lanthorne, and how <i>Rinuccio</i> -carried <i>Alessandro</i> on his backe, beeing attired in the Garments of -<i>Scannadio</i>: whereat she mervailed not a little, as also the great boldnesse -of them both. But in the midst of her mervailing, she laughed -very heartily, when she saw the one let the other fall, and both to -runne away so manfully. Which accident pleasing her beyond all -comparison, and applauding her good Fortune, to bee so happily -delivered from their daily molestation: she betooke herselfe to hir -Chamber with the Maide, avouching solemnly to her, that (questionlesse) -they both affected her dearely, having undertaken such a -straunge imposition, and verie neere brought it to a finall conclusion.</p> - -<p><i>Rinuccio</i>, being sadly discontented, and cursing his hard fortune, -would not yet returne home to his Lodging: but, when the watch -was gone forth of that streete, came backe to the place where he let -fall <i>Alessandro</i>, purposing to accomplish the rest of his enterprize. -But not finding the body, and remaining fully perswaded, that the -Watchmen were possessed thereof; hee went away, greeving extreamly. -And <i>Alessandro</i>, not knowing now what should become -of him: confounded with the like griefe and sorrow, that all his -hope was thus utterly overthrowne, retired thence unto his owne -house, not knowing who was the Porter which carried him.</p> - -<p>The next morning, the grave of <i>Scannadio</i> being found open, -& the body not in it, because <i>Alessandro</i> had thrown it into a deep -ditch neere adjoyning: all the people of <i>Pistoya</i> were possessed with -sundry opinions, some of the more foolish sort verily beleeving, -that the divell had caried away the dead body. Neverthelesse, each -of the Lovers, severally made knowne to Madam <i>Francesca</i>, what -he had done, and how disappointed, either excusing himselfe, that -though her command had not bin fully accomplished, yet to continue -her favour towards him. But she, like a wise and discreet Gentlewoman, -seeming not to credit either the one or other: discharged -her selfe honestly of them both, with a cutting answere, That shee -would never (afterward) expect any other service from them, because -they had fayled in their first injunction.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Madame_Usimbalda_Lady_Abbesse_of_a_Monastery_of_Nuns_in_Lombardie" id="Madame_Usimbalda_Lady_Abbesse_of_a_Monastery_of_Nuns_in_Lombardie"><i>Madame</i> Usimbalda, <i>Lady Abbesse of a Monastery of Nuns in</i> Lombardie, -<i>arising hastily in the night time without a Candle, to take -one of her Daughter Nunnes in bed with a young Gentleman, whereof -she was enviously accused, by certaine of her other Sisters: The -Abbesse her selfe (being at the same time in bed with a Priest) imagining -to have put on her head her plaited vayle, put on the Priests -breeches. Which when the poore Nunne perceyved; by causing the -Abbesse to see her owne error, she got her selfe to be absolved, and had -the freer liberty afterward, to be more familiar with her friend, then -formerly she had bin.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Second Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Whereby is declared, that whosoever is desirous to reprehend sinne in -other men, should first examine himselfe, that he be not guiltie of -the same crime.</i></h4> - - -<p>By this time, Madame <i>Philomena</i> sate silent, and the wit of -<i>Francesca</i>, in freeing her selfe from them whom she could -not fancie, was generally commended: as also on the contrary, -the bold presumption of the two amorous suiters, was reputed -not to be love, but meerely folly. And then the Queene, with -a gracious admonition, gave way for Madam Eliza to follow next; -who presently thus began.</p> - -<p>Worthy Ladies, Madame <i>Francesca</i> delivered her selfe discreetly -from trouble, as already hath bin related: but a young Nun, by -the helpe and favour of Fortune, did also free her selfe (in speaking -advisedly) from an inconvenience sodainly falling on her. And as -you well know, there wants none of them, who (like bold Bayards) -will be very forward in checking other mens misdemeanours, when -themselves, as my Novell will approve, deserve more justly to bee -corrected. As hapned to a Lady Abbesse, under whose governement -the same young Nunne was, of whom I am now to speake.</p> - -<p>You are then to understand (Gracious Auditors) that in <i>Lombardie</i> -there was a goodly Monastery, very famous for Holinesse and -Religion, where, among other sanctified Sisters, there was a young -Gentlewoman, endued with very singular beautie, being named <i>Isabella</i>, -who on a day, when a Kinsman of hers came to see her at -the grate, became enamored of a young Gentleman, being then in -his company.</p> - -<p>He likewise, beholding her to be so admirably beautifull, & conceyving -by the pretty glances of her eye, that they appeared to bee -silent intelligencers of the hearts meaning, grew also as affectionately -inclined towards her, and this mutuall love continued thus -concealed a long while, but not without great affliction unto them -both. In the end, either of them being circumspect and provident -enough, the Gentleman contrived a meanes, whereby he might secretly -visite his Nunne, wherewith she seemed no way discontented: -and this visitation was not for once or twice, but verie often, -and closely concealed to themselves.</p> - -<p>At length it came to passe, that either through their owne indiscreete -carriage, or jelous suspition in some others: it was espied by -one of the Sisters, both the Gentlemans comming and departing, -yet unknowne to him or <i>Isabella</i>. The saide Sister, disclosing the -same to two or three more: they agreed together, to reveale it to -the Lady Abbesse, who was named Madame <i>Usimbalda</i>, a holy and -devout Lady, in common opinion of all the Nunnes, and whosoever -else knew her.</p> - -<p>They further concluded (because <i>Isabella</i> should not deny theyr -accusation) to contrive the businesse so cunningly: that the Ladie -Abbesse should come her selfe in person, and take the young Gentleman -in bed with the Nun. And uppon this determination, they agreed -to watch nightly by turnes, because by no meanes they wold -be prevented: so to surprise poore <i>Isabella</i>, who beeing ignorant of -their treachery, suspected nothing. Presuming thus still on this secret -felicitie, and fearing no disaster to befall her: it chaunced (on a -night) that the young Gentleman being entred into the Nuns Dorter, -the Scowts had descried him, & intended to be revenged on her.</p> - -<p>After some part of the night was overpast, they divided themselves -into two bands, one to guard <i>Isabellaes</i> Dorter doore, the other -to carry newes to the Abbesse, and knocking at her Closet -doore, saide. Rise quickely Madame, and use all the hast you may, -for we have seene a man enter our Sister <i>Isabellaes</i> Dorter, and you -may take her in bed with him. The Lady Abbesse, who (the very -same night) had the company of a lusty Priest in bed with her selfe, -as oftentimes before she had, and he being alwayes brought thither -in a Chest: hearing these tidings, and fearing also, lest the Nunnes -hastie knocking at her doore, might cause it to fly open, and so (by -their entrance) have her owne shame discovered: arose very hastily, -and thinking she had put on her plaited vaile, which alwayes she -walked with in the night season, and used to tearme her Psalter; she -put the Priests breeches upon her head, and so went away in all -hast with them, supposing them verily to be her Psalter: but making -fast the Closet doore with her keye, because the Priest should not -be discovered.</p> - -<p>Away shee went in all haste with the Sisters, who were so -forward in the detection of poore <i>Isabella</i>, as they never regarded -what manner of vaile the Lady Abbesse wore on her head. And -being come to the Dorter doore, quickly they lifted it off from the -hookes, and being entred, found the two Lovers sweetly imbracing: -but yet so amazed at this sudden surprisall, as they durst not -stirre, nor speake one word. The young Nunne <i>Isabella</i>, was raised -forthwith by the other Sisters, and according as the Abbesse had -commaunded, was brought by them into the Chapter-house: the young -Gentleman remaining still in the Chamber, where he put on his -garments, awaiting to see the issue of this businesse, and verily intending -to act severe revenge on his betrayers, if any harme were done -to <i>Isabella</i>, and afterward to take her thence away with him, as -meaning to make her amends by marriage.</p> - -<p>The Abbesse being seated in the Chapter house, and all the other -Nunnes then called before her, who minded nothing else but the -poore offending Sister: she began to give her very harsh and vile -speeches, as never any transgressor suffered the like, and as to her -who had (if it should be openly knowne abroad) contaminated by -her lewde life and actions, the sanctity and good renowne of the -whole Monastery, and threatned her with very severe chastisement. -Poore <i>Isabella</i>, confounded with feare and shame, as being no way -able to excuse her fault, knew not what answer to make, but standing -silent, made her case compassionable to all the rest, even those -hard-hearted Sisters which betrayed her.</p> - -<p>And the Abbesse still continuing her harsh speeches, it fortuned, -that <i>Isabella</i>, raising her head, which before she dejected into hir bosome, -espied the breeches on her head, with the stockings hanging -on either side of her; the sight whereof did so much encourage her, -that boldly she said. Madam, let a poore offender advise you for to -mend your veile, and afterward say to me what you will.</p> - -<p>The Abbesse being very angry; and not understanding what she -meant, frowningly answered. Why how now saucy companion? -What vaile are you prating of? Are you so malapert, to bee chatting -already? Is the deed you have done, to be answered in such immodest -manner? <i>Isabella</i> not a jot danted by her sterne behaviour, -once againe said. Good Madam let me perswade you to sette your -vaile right, and then chide me as long as you will. At these words, -all the rest of the Nunnes exalted their lookes, to behold what vaile -the Abbesse wore on her head, wherewith <i>Isabella</i> should finde such -fault, and she her selfe lift up her hand to feele it: and then they all -perceyved plainly, the reason of <i>Isabellas</i> speeches, and the Abbesse -saw her owne error.</p> - -<p>Hereupon, when the rest observed, that she had no help to cloud -this palpable shame withall, the tide began to turne, and hir tongue -found another manner of Language, then her former fury to poore -<i>Isabella</i>, growing to this conclusion, that it is impossible to resist against -the temptations of the flesh. And therefore she saide: Let all -of you take occasion, according as it offereth it selfe, as both we and -our predecessors have done: to be provident for your selves, take -time while you may, having this sentence alwaies in remembrance, -<i>Si non caste, tamen caute</i>.</p> - -<p>So, having granted the young Nunne <i>Isabella</i> free absolution: the -Lady Abbesse returned backe againe to bed to the Priest, and <i>Isabella</i> -to the Gentleman. As for the other Sisters, who (as yet) were -without the benefit of friends; they intended to provide themselves -so soone as they could, being enduced thereto by so good example.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Master_Simon_the_Physitian_by_the_perswasions_of_Bruno_Buffalmaco" id="Master_Simon_the_Physitian_by_the_perswasions_of_Bruno_Buffalmaco"><i>Master</i> Simon <i>the Physitian, by the perswasions of</i> Bruno, Buffalmaco, -<i>and a third Companion, named</i> Nello, <i>made</i> Calandrino <i>to -beleeve, that he was conceived great with childe. And having Physicke -ministred to him for the disease: they got both good fatte Capons -and money of him, and so cured him, without any other manner -of deliverance.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Third Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Discovering the simplicity of some silly witted men, and how easie a -matter it is to abuse and beguile them.</i></h4> - - -<p>After that Madame <i>Eliza</i> had concluded her Novell, and -every one of the company given thankes to Fortune, for -delivering poore <i>Isabella</i> the faire young Nunne, from the -bitter reprehensions of the as faulty Abbesse, as also the malice of -her envious Sisters: the Queene gave command unto <i>Philostratus</i>, -that he should be the next in order, and hee (without expecting anie -other warning) began in this manner.</p> - -<p>Faire Ladies, the paltry Judge of the Marquisate, whereof yesterday -I made relation to you; hindred mee then of another Novell, -concerning silly <i>Calandrino</i>, wherewith I purpose now to acquaint -you. And because whatsoever hath already bin spoken of him, tended -to no other end but matter of merriment, hee and his companions -duly considered: the Novel which I shal now report, keepeth -within the selfesame compasse, and aimeth also at your contentment, -according to the scope of imposed variety.</p> - -<p>You have already heard what manner of man <i>Calandrino</i> was, -and likewise the rest of his pleasant Companions, who likewise are -now againe to be remembred, because they are actors in our present -discourse. It came so to passe, that an Aunt of <i>Calandrinoes</i> dying, -left him a legacy of two hundred Florines, wherewith he purposed -to purchase some small Farme-house in the countrey, or else to enlarge -the other, whereof he was possessed already. And, as if hee -were to disburse some ten thousand Florines, there was not a Broker -in all <i>Florence</i>, but understood what he intended to doe; and all -the worst was, that the strings of his purse could stretch no higher. -<i>Bruno</i>, and <i>Buffalmaco</i> (his auncient Confederates) who heard of -this good Fortune befalne him, advised him in such manner as they -were wont to do; allowing it much better for him, to make merrie -with the money in good cheare among them, then to lay it out in -paltry Land, whereto he would not by any meanes listen, but ridde -himselfe of them with a dinners cost, as loath to bee at anie further -charge with them.</p> - -<p>These merry Laddes meant not to leave him so; but sitting one -day in serious consultation, and a third man in their companie, named -<i>Nello</i>; they all three layde their braines in steep, by what means -to wash their mouths well, and <i>Calandrino</i> to bee at the cost thereof.</p> - -<p>And having resolved what was to bee done, they met togither -the next morning, even as <i>Calandrino</i> was comming foorth of his -house, and sundering themselves, to avoyd all suspition, yet beeing -not farre distant each from other; <i>Nello</i> first met him, and saide unto -him, Good Morrow <i>Calandrino</i>: which he requited backe agayne -with the same salutation. But then <i>Nello</i> standing still, looked him -stedfastly in the face: whereat <i>Calandrino</i> mervailing, sayd: <i>Nello</i>, -why dost thou behold me so advisedly? Whereunto <i>Nello</i> answered, -saying Hast thou felt any paine this last night past? Thou lookest nothing -so well, as thou didst yesterday. <i>Calandrino</i> began instantly to -wax doubtfull, and replyed thus. Dost thou see any alteration in my -face, whereby to imagine, I should feele some paine? In good faith <i>Calandrino</i> -(quoth <i>Nello</i>) me thinks thy countenance is strangely changed, -and surely it proceedeth from some great cause, and so he departed -away from him.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> being very mistrustfull, scratched his head, yet felte -he no grievance at all; and going still on; <i>Buffalmaco</i> sodainely -encountred him, upon his departure from <i>Nello</i>, and after salutations -passing betweene them; in a manner of admiration, demanded -what he ayled.</p> - -<p>Truly (quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) well enough to mine owne thinking, yet -notwithstanding, I met with <i>Nello</i> but even now; and he told me, that -my countenance was very much altred; Is it possible that I should bee -sicke, and feele no paine or distaste in any part of me? <i>Buffalmaco</i> answered; -I am not so skilfull in judgement, as to argue on the Nature -of distemper in the body: but sure I am, that thou hast some daungerous -inward impediment, because thou lookst (almost) like a man more -then halfe dead.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> began presently to shake, as if hee had had a Feaver -hanging on him, and then came <i>Bruno</i> looking fearefully on him, -and before he would utter any words, seemed greatly to bemoane -him, saying at length. <i>Calandrino</i>? Art thou the same man, or no? -How wonderfully art thou changed since last I saw thee, which is no -longer then yester day? I pray thee tell mee, How dooest thou feele thy -health?</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> hearing, that they all agreed in one opinion of him; -he beganne verily to perswade himselfe, that some sodaine sicknes, -had seised upon him, which they could discerne, although hee felt -no anguish at all: and therefore, like a man much perplexed in -minde, demanded of them, What he should do? Beleeve mee <i>Calandrino</i> -(answered <i>Bruno</i>) if I were worthy to give thee counsell, thou -shouldst returne home presently to thy house, and lay thee downe -in thy warme Bedde, covered with so many cloathes as thou canst -well endure. Then to Morrow morning, send thy Water unto -Learned Mayster Doctor the Physitian, who (as thou knowest) is -a man of most singular skill and experience: he will instruct thee -presently what is the best course to be taken, and we that have ever -beene thy loving friends, will not faile thee in any thing that lieth in -our power.</p> - -<p>By this time, <i>Nello</i> being come againe unto them, they all returned -home with <i>Calandrino</i> unto his owne house, whereinto he entering -very faintly, hee saide to his Wife: Woman, make my Bed -presently ready, for I feele my selfe to be growne extreamely sicke, -and see that thou layest cloathes enow upon me. Being thus laide in -his Bedde, they left him for that night, and returned to visite him -againe the verie next morning, by which time, he had made a reservation -of his Water, and sent it by a young Damosell unto Maister -Doctor, who dwelt then in the olde market place, at the signe -of the Muske Mellone. Then saide <i>Bruno</i> unto his Companions; -Abide you heere to keepe him company, and I will walke along to -the Physitian, to understand what he will say: and if neede be, I can -procure him to come hither with me. <i>Calandrino</i> very kindely accepted -his offer, saying withall. Well <i>Bruno</i>, thou shewst thy selfe -a friend in the time of necessity, I pray thee know of him, how the -case stands with me, for I feele a very strange alteration within mee, -far beyond all compasse of my conceite.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i> being gone to the Physitian, he made such expedition, that -he arrived there before the Damosell, who carried the Water, and -informed Master <i>Simon</i> with the whole tricke intended: wherefore, -when the Damosell was come, and hee had passed his judgement -concerning the water, he said to her.</p> - -<p>Maide, go home againe, and tell <i>Calandrino</i>, that he must keepe -himselfe very warme: and I my selfe will instantly be with him, to -enstruct him further in the quality of his sicknesse.</p> - -<p>The Damosell delivered her message accordingly, and it was not -long before Mayster Doctor <i>Simon</i> came, with <i>Bruno</i> also in his -company, and sitting downe on the beds side by <i>Calandrino</i>, hee -began to taste his pulse, and within a small while after, his Wife -being come into the Chamber, he said. Observe me well <i>Calandrino</i>, -for I speake to thee in the nature of a true friend; thou hast no other -disease, but only thou art great with child.</p> - -<p>So soone as <i>Calandrino</i> heard these words, in dispairing manner -he beganne to rage, and cry out aloud, saying to his wife. Ah thou -wicked woman, this is long of thee, and thou hast done me this mischeefe: -for alwayes thou wilt be upon me, ever railing at mee, and -fighting, untill thou hast gotten me under thee. Say thou divellish -creature, do I not tell thee true? The Woman, being of verie honest -and civill conversation, hearing her husband speake so foolishly: -blushing with shame, and hanging downe her head in bashfull -manner; without returning any answer, went forth of her Chamber.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> continuing still in his angry humour, wringing his -hands, and beating them upon his brest, said: Wretched man that -I am, What shall I do? How shal I be delivered of this child? Which -way can it come from me into the world? I plainly perceyve, that -I am none other then a dead man, and all through the wickednesse -of my Wife: heaven plague her with as many mischiefes, as I am -desirous to finde ease. Were I now in as good health, as heeretofore -I have beene, I would rise out of my bed, and never cease beating -her, untill I had broken her in a thousand peeces. But if Fortune -will be so favourable to me, as to helpe mee out of this dangerous -agony: hang me, if ever she get me under her againe, or make -me such an Asse, in having the mastery over mee, as divers times -she hath done.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno, Buffalmaco</i> and <i>Nello</i>, hearing these raving speeches of -<i>Calandrino</i>, were swolne so bigge with laughter, as if their ribbes -would have burst in sunder; neverthelesse, they abstained so well -as they were able; but Doctor <i>Simon</i> gaped so wide with laughing -as one might easily have pluckt out all his teeth. In the end, because -he could tarry there no longer, but was preparing to depart: -<i>Calandrino</i> thanked him for his paines, requesting that hee would -be carefull of him, in aiding him with his best advise and counsell, -and he would not be unmindfull of him. Honest neighbour <i>Calandrino</i>, -answered the Phisition, I would not have you to torment -your selfe, in such an impatient and tempestuous manner, because -I perceive the time so to hasten on, as we shall soone perceive (and -that within very few dayes space) your health well restored, and -without the sense of much paine; but indeed it wil cost expences. -Alas Sir, said <i>Calandrino</i>, make not any spare of my purse, to procure -that I may have safe deliverance. I have two hundred Florines, -lately falne to me by the death of mine Aunt, wherewith I intended -to purchase a Farme in the Countrey: take them all if need be, -onely reserving some few for my lying in Childbed. And then -Master Doctor, Alas, I know not how to behave my selfe, for I have -heard the grievous complaint of women in that case, oppressed -with bitter pangs and throwes; as questionlesse they will bee my -death, except you have the greater care of me.</p> - -<p>Be of good cheere neighbour <i>Calandrino</i>, replyed Doctor <i>Simon</i>, -I will provide an excellent distilled drinke for you, marvellously -pleasing in taste, and of soveraigne vertue, which will resolve -all in three mornings, making you as whole and as sound as a -Fish newly spawned. But you must have an especiall care afterward, -being providently wise, least you fall into the like follies againe. -Concerning the preparation of this precious drinke, -halfe a dozen of Capons, the very fairest and fattest, I must make -use of in the distillation: what other things shall bee imployed beside, -you may deliver forty Florines to one of these your honest -friends, to see all the necessaries bought, and sent me home to my -house. Concerning my businesse, make you no doubt thereof, for -I will have all distilled against to morrow, and then doe you drinke -a great Glasse full every morning, fresh and fasting next your -heart. <i>Calandrino</i> was highly pleased with his words, returning master -Doctor infinite thankes, and referring all to his disposing. And -having given forty Florines to <i>Bruno</i>, with other money beside, to -buy the halfe dozen of Capons: he thought himselfe greatly beholding -to them all, and protested to requite their kindenesse.</p> - -<p>Master Doctor being gone home to his house, made ready a -bottel of very excellent Hypocrasse, which he sent the next day according -to his promise: and <i>Bruno</i> having bought the Capons, -with other junkets, fit for the turne, the Phisitian and his merry -Companions, fed on them hartely for the givers sake. As for <i>Calandrino</i>, -he liked his dyet drinke excellently well, quaffing a large -Glassefull off three mornings together: afterward Master Doctor -and the rest came to see him, and having felt his pulse, the Phisition -said. <i>Calandrino</i>, thou art now as sound in health, as any man in all -<i>Florence</i> can be: thou needest not to keepe within doores any longer, -but walke abroad boldly, for all is well and the childe gone.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> arose like a joyfulll man, and walked daily through -the streets, in the performance of such affaires as belonged to him: -and every acquaintance he met withall, he told the condition of his -sudden sickenesse; and what a rare cure Master Doctor <i>Simon</i> had -wrought on him, delivering him (in three dayes space) of a childe, -and without the feeling of any paine. <i>Bruno, Buffalmaco,</i> and <i>Nello,</i> -were not a little jocond, for meeting so well with covetous <i>Calandrino</i>: -but how the Wife liked the folly of her Husband, I leave -to the judgement of all good Women.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Francesco_Fortarigo_played_away_all_that_he_had_at_Buonconvento" id="Francesco_Fortarigo_played_away_all_that_he_had_at_Buonconvento">Francesco Fortarigo, <i>played away all that he had at</i> Buonconvento, -<i>and likewise the money of</i> Francesco Aniolliero, <i>being his Master. -Then running after him in his shirt, and avouching that hee had -robbed him: he caused him to be taken by Pezants of the Country, -clothed himselfe in his Masters wearing garments, and (mounted -on his horse) rode thence to</i> Sienna, <i>leaving</i> Aniolliero <i>in his shirt, -and walked bare-footed.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The fourth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Serving as an admonition to all men, for taking Gamesters and Drunkards -into their service.</i></h4> - - -<p>The ridiculous words given by <i>Calandrino</i> to his Wife, all -the whole company hartily laughed at: but <i>Philostratus</i> -ceassing, Madame <i>Neiphila</i> (as it pleased the Queene -to appoint) began to speake thus. Vertuous Ladies, if it were not -more hard and uneasie for men, to make good their understanding -and vertue, then apparant publication of their disgrace and folly; -many would not labour in vaine, to curbe in their idle speeches -with a bridle, as you have manifestly observed by the weake wit of -<i>Calandrino</i>. Who needed no such fantastick circumstance, to cure -the strange disease, which he imagined (by sottish perswasions) to -have: had hee not been so lavish of his tongue, and accused his -Wife of over-mastering him. Which maketh me remember a Novell, -quite contrary to this last related, namely, how one man may -strive to surmount another in malice; yet he to sustaine the greater -harme, that had (at the first) the most advantage of his enemy, as I -will presently declare unto you.</p> - -<p>There dwelt in <i>Sienna</i>, and not many yeeres since, two young -men of equall age, both of them bearing the name of <i>Francesco</i>: but -the one was descended of the <i>Aniollieri</i>, and the other likewise of -the <i>Fortarigi</i>; so that they were commonly called <i>Aniolliero</i>, and -<i>Fortarigo</i>, both Gentlemen, and well derived. Now, although in -many other matters, their complexions did differ very much: Yet -notwithstanding, they varied not in one bad qualitie, namely too -great neglect of their Fathers, which caused their more frequent -conversation, as very familiar and respective friends. But <i>Aniolliero</i> -(being a very goodly and faire conditioned young Gentleman) -apparently perceiving, that he could not maintaine himselfe at <i>Sienna</i>, -in such estate as he liked, and upon the pension allowed him by -his Father, hearing also, that at the Marquisate of <i>Ancona</i>, there lived -the Popes Legate, a worthy Cardinall, his much indeared -good Lord and friend: he intended to goe visite him, as hoping -to advance his fortunes by him.</p> - -<p>Having acquainted his Father with this determination, he concluded -with him, to have that from him in a moment which might -supply his wants for many moneths, because he would be clothed -gallantly, and mounted honourably. And seeking for a servant -necessary to attend on him, it chanced that <i>Fortarigo</i> hearing thereof, -came presently to <i>Aniolliero</i>, intreating him in the best manner -he could, to let him waite on him as his serving man, promising -both dutifull and diligent attendance: yet not to demaund any other -wages, but onely payment of his ordinary expences. <i>Aniolliero</i> -made him answere, that he durst not give him entertainment, not -in regard of his insufficiency, and unaptnesse for service: but because -he was a great Gamester, and divers times would be beastly -drunke? whereto <i>Fortarigo</i> replyed that hee would refraine from -both those foule vices, and addict all his endeavour wholly to please -him, without just taxation of any grosse error; making such solemne -vowes and protestations beside, as conquered <i>Aniolliero</i>, -and won his consent.</p> - -<p>Being entred upon his journey, and arriving in a morning at -<i>Buonconvento</i>, there <i>Aniolliero</i> determined to dine, and afterward, -finding the heate to be unfit for travaile; he caused a bed to be prepared, -wherein being laid to rest by the helpe of <i>Fortarigo</i>, he gave -him charge, that after the heates violence was overpast, hee should -not faile to call and awake him. While <i>Aniolliero</i> slept thus in -his bed, <i>Fortarigo</i>, never remembring his solemne vowes and promises: -went to the Taverne, where having drunke indifferently, and -finding company fit for the purpose, he fell to play at the dice with -them. In a very short while, he had not onely lost his money, but -all the cloathes on his backe likewise, and coveting to recover his -losses againe; naked in his shirt, he went to <i>Aniollieroes</i> Chamber, -where finding him yet soundly sleeping, he tooke all the money he -had in his purse, and then returned backe to play, speeding in the -same manner as hee did before, not having one poore penny left -him.</p> - -<p><i>Aniolliero</i> chancing to awake, arose and made him ready, without -any servant to helpe him; then calling for <i>Fortarigo</i>, and not -hearing any tydings of him: he began immediately to imagine, -that he was become drunke, and so had falne asleepe in one place -or other, as very often he was wont to doe. Wherefore, determining -so to leave him, he caused the male and Saddle to be set on his -horse; & so to furnish himselfe with a more honest servant at <i>Corsignano</i>.</p> - -<p>But when hee came to pay his hoste, hee found not any penny -left him: whereupon (as well he might) he grew greatly offended, -and raised much trouble in the house, charged the hoasts people to -have robde him, and threatening to have them sent as prisoners -to <i>Sienna</i>. Suddenly entred <i>Fortarigo</i> in his shirt, with intent to -have stolne <i>Aniollieroes</i> garments, as formerly hee did the money -out of his purse, and seeing him ready to mount on horsebacke, hee -saide.</p> - -<p>How now <i>Aniolliero</i>? What shall we goe away so soone? -I pray you Sir tarry a little while, for an honest man is comming -hither, who hath my Doublet engaged for eight and thirty shillings; -and I am sure that he will restore it me back for five and thirty, -if I could presently pay him downe the money.</p> - -<p>During the speeches, an other entred among them, who assured -<i>Aniolliero</i>, that <i>Fortarigo</i> was the Thiefe which robde him of his -money, shewing him also how much hee had lost at the Dice: -Wherewith <i>Aniolliero</i> being much mooved, very angerly reprooved -<i>Fortarigo</i>, and, but for feare of the Law, would have offered -him outrage, thretning to have him hangd by the neck, or else condemned -to the Gallies belonging to <i>Florence</i>, and so mounted on -his horse. <i>Fortarigo</i> making shew to the standers by, as if <i>Aniolliero</i> -menaced some other body, and not him, said. Come <i>Aniolliero</i>, -I pray thee let us leave this frivolous prating, for (indeede) it is -not worth a Button, and minde a matter of more importance: my -Doublet will bee had againe for five and thirty shillings, if the -money may bee tendered downe at this very instant, whereas if we -deferre it till to morrow, perhaps hee will then have the whole -eight and thirty which he lent me, and he doth me this pleasure, because -I am ready (at another time) to affoord him the like courtesie; -why then should we loose three shillings, when they may so easily -be saved.</p> - -<p><i>Aniolliero</i> hearing him speake in such confused manner, and perceiving -also, that they which stood gazing by, beleeved (as by their -lookes appeared) that <i>Fortarigo</i> had not played away his Masters -mony at the Dice, but rather that he had some stocke of <i>Fortarigoes</i> -in his custody; angerly answered; Thou sawcy companion, what -have I to doe with thy Doublet? I would thou wert hangd, not only -for playing away my money, but also by delaying thus my journey, -and yet boldly thou standest out-facing mee, as if I were no -better then thy fellow. <i>Fortarigo</i> held on still his former behaviour, -without using any respect or reverence to <i>Aniolliero</i>, as if all -the accusations did not concerne him, but saying, Why should wee -not take the advantage of three shillings profit? Thinkest thou, that -I am not able to doe as much for thee? why, lay out so much money -for my sake, and make no more haste then needs we must, because -we have day-light enough to bring us (before night) to <i>Torreniero</i>. -Come, draw thy purse, and pay the money, for upon mine -honest word, I may enquire throughout all <i>Sienna</i>, and yet not find -such another Doublet as this of mine is. To say then, that I should -leave it, where it now lyeth pawned, and for eight and thirty shillings, -when it is richly more worth then fifty, I am sure to suffer a -double endammagement thereby.</p> - -<p>You may well imagine, that <i>Aniolliero</i> was now enraged beyond -all patience, to see himselfe both robde of his money, and overborne -with presumptuous language: wherefore, without making -any more replications, he gave the spurre to his horse, and rode away -towards <i>Torreniero</i>. Now fell <i>Fortarigo</i> into a more knavish -intention against <i>Aniolliero</i>, and being very speedy in running, followed -apace after him in his shirt, crying out still aloude to him all -the way, to let him have his Doublet againe. <i>Aniolliero</i> riding on -very fast, to free his eares from this idle importunity, it fortuned -that <i>Fortarigo</i> espied divers countrey Pezants, labouring in the fields -about their businesse, and by whom <i>Aniolliero</i> (of necessity) must -passe: To them he cryed out so loude as he could; Stay the Thiefe, -Stop the Thiefe, he rides away so fast, having robde me.</p> - -<p>They being provided, some with Prongges, Pitchforkes and -Spades, and others with the like weapons fit for Husbandry, stept -into the way before <i>Aniolliero</i>: and beleeving undoubtedly, that -he had robde the man which pursued him in his shirt, stayed and -apprehended him. Whatsoever <i>Aniolliero</i> could doe or say, prevailed -not any thing with the unmannerly Clownes, but when <i>Fortarigo</i> -was arrived among them, he braved <i>Aniolliero</i> most impudently, -saying.</p> - -<p>What reason have I to spoile thy life (thou traiterous Villaine) -to rob and spoyle thy Master thus on the high way? Then turning -to the Countrey Boores: How much deare friends (quoth he) am -I beholding to you for this unexpected kindnesse? You behold in -what manner he left me in my Lodging, having first playd away all -my money at the Dice, and then deceiving me of my horse and garments -also: but had not you (by great good lucke) thus holpe mee -to stay him; a poore Gentleman had bin undone for ever, and I -should never have found him againe.</p> - -<p><i>Aniolliero</i> avouched the truth of his wrong received, but the base -peazants, giving credite onely to <i>Fortarigoes</i> lying exclamations: -tooke him from his horse, despoyled him of all his wearing apparrell, -even to the very Bootes from off his Legges: suffered him to -ride away from him in that manner, and <i>Aniolliero</i> left so in his -shirt, to dance a bare-foote Galliard after him, either towards <i>Sienna</i>, -or any place else.</p> - -<p>Thus <i>Aniolliero</i>, purposing to visite his Cousin the Cardinal like -a Gallant, and at the Marquisate of <i>Ancona</i>, returned backe poorly -in his shirt unto <i>Buonconvento</i>, and durst not (for shame) repaire to -<i>Sienna</i>. In the end, he borrowed money on the other horse which -<i>Fortarigo</i> rode on, and remained there in the Inne, whence riding -to <i>Corsignano</i>, where he had divers Kinsmen and Friends, he continued -there so long with them, till he was better furnished from his -Father.</p> - -<p>Thus you may perceive, that the cunning Villanies of <i>Fortarigo</i>, -hindred the honest intended enterprise of <i>Aniolliero</i>, howbeit in fit -time and place, nothing afterward was left unpunished.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Calandrino_became_extraordinarily_enamoured_of_a_young_Damosell" id="Calandrino_became_extraordinarily_enamoured_of_a_young_Damosell">Calandrino <i>became extraordinarily enamoured of a young Damosell, -named</i> Nicholetta. Bruno <i>prepared a Charme or writing for him, -avouching constantly to him, that so soone as he touched the Damosell -therewith, she should follow him whithersoever hee would have -her. She being gone to an appointed place with him, hee was found -there by his wife, and dealt withall according to his deserving.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The fift Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>In just reprehension of those vaine-headed fooles, that are led and governed -by idle perswasions.</i></h4> - - -<p>Because the Novell reported by Madame <i>Neiphila</i> was so -soone concluded, without much laughter, or commendation -of the whole Company: the Queene turned hir selfe -towards Madam <i>Fiammetta</i>, enjoyning her to succeed in apt order; -& she being as ready as sodainly commanded, began as followeth. -Most gentle Ladies, I am perswaded of your opinion in judgement -with mine, that there is not any thing, which can bee spoken pleasingly, -except it be conveniently suited with apt time and place: in -which respect, when Ladies and Gentlewomen are bent to discoursing, -the due election of them both are necessarily required. And -therefore I am not unmindfull, that our meeting heere (ayming at -nothing more, then to out-weare the time with our generall contentment) -should tye us to the course of our pleasure and recreation, -to the same conveniency of time and place, not sparing, though -some have bin nominated oftentimes in our passed arguments; yet, -if occasion serve, and the nature of variety be well considered, wee -may speake of the selfsame persons againe.</p> - -<p>Now, notwithstanding the actions of <i>Calandrino</i> have been indifferently -canvazed among us; yet, remembring what <i>Philostratus</i> -not long since saide, That they intended to nothing more then matter -of mirth: I presume the boldlier, to report another Novell of -him, beside them already past. And, were I willing to conceale the -truth, and cloath it in more circumstantiall manner: I could make use -of contrary names, and paint it in a poeticall fiction, perhaps more -probable, though not so pleasing. But because wandring from the -truth of things, doth much diminish (in relation) the delight of the -hearers: I will build boldly on my fore-alledged reason, and tel you -truly how it hapned.</p> - -<p><i>Niccholao Cornocchini</i> was once a Citizen of ours, and a man of -great wealth; who, among other his rich possessions in <i>Camerata</i>, -builded there a very goodly house, which being perfected ready for -painting: he compounded with <i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i>, who because -their worke required more helpe then their owne, they drew <i>Nello</i> -and <i>Calandrino</i> into their association, and began to proceed in their -businesse. And because there was a Chamber or two, having olde -moveables in them, as Bedding, Tables, and other Houshold stuffe -beside, which were in the custody of an old Woman that kepte the -house, without the helpe of any other servants else, a Son unto the -saide <i>Niccholao</i>, beeing named <i>Phillippo</i>, resorted thither divers -times, with one or other pretty Damosell in his company (in regard -he was unmarried) where he would abide a day or two with her, & -then convey her home againe.</p> - -<p>At one time among the rest, it chanced that he brought a Damosell -thither named <i>Nicholetta</i>, who was maintained by a wily companion, -called <i>Magione</i>, in a dwelling which hee had at <i>Camaldoli</i>, -and (indeed) no honester then she should be. She was a very beautifull -young woman, wearing garments of great value, and (according -to her quality) well spoken, and of commendable carriage. -Comming forth of her Chamber one day, covered with a White -veyle, because her haire hung loose about her, which shee went to -wash at a Well in the middle Court, bathing there also her face and -hands: <i>Calandrino</i> going (by chance) to the same Well for water, -gave her a secret salutation. She kindly returning the like courtesie -to him, began to observe him advisedly: more, because he looked -like a man newly come thither, then any handsomnesse she perceyved -in him.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> threw wanton glances at her, and seeing she was both -faire and lovely, began to finde some occasion of tarrying, so that -he returned not with water to his other associates, yet neither knowing -her, or daring to deliver one word. She, who was not to learn -her lesson in alluring, noting what affectionate regards (with bashfulnesse) -he gave her: answered him more boldly with the like; but -meerly in scorning manner, breathing forth divers dissembled sighs -among them: so that <i>Calandrino</i> became foolishly inveigled with -her love, and would not depart out of the Court, untill <i>Phillippo</i>, -standing above in his Chamber window called her thence.</p> - -<p>When <i>Calandrino</i> was returned backe to his businesse, he could -do nothing else, but shake the head, sigh, puffe, and blowe, which -being observed by <i>Bruno</i> (who alwayes fitted him according to his -folly, as making a meer mockery of his very best behaviour) sodainly -he said. Why how now <i>Calandrino</i>? Sigh, puff, and blow man? -What may be the reason of these unwonted qualities? <i>Calandrino</i> -immediately answered, saying: My friendly Companion <i>Bruno</i>, if -I had one to lend me a little helpe, I should very quickely become -well enough. How? quoth <i>Bruno</i>, doth any thing offend thee, and -wilt thou not reveale it to thy friends? Deare <i>Bruno</i>, said <i>Calandrino</i>, -there is a proper handsome woman here in the house, the goodliest -creature that every any eye beheld, much fairer then the Queen -of Fairies her selfe, who is so deeply falne in love with mee, as thou -wouldst thinke it no lesse then a wonder; and yet I never sawe her -before, till yet while when I was sent to fetch water. A very strange -case, answered <i>Bruno</i>, take heede <i>Calandrino</i>, that shee bee not the -lovely friend to <i>Phillippo</i>, our young Master, for then it may prove a -dangerous matter.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> stood scratching his head an indifferent while, and -then sodainly replyed thus. Now trust me <i>Bruno</i>, it is to bee doubted, -because he called her at his Window, and she immediately went -up to his Chamber. But what doe I care if it be so? Have not the -Gods themselves bene beguiled of their Wenches, who were better -men then ever <i>Phillippo</i> can be, and shall I stand in feare of him? -<i>Bruno</i> replied: Be patient <i>Calandrino</i>, I will enquire what Woman -she is, and if she be not the wife or friend to our young master <i>Phillippo</i>, -with faire perswasions I can over-rule the matter, because shee -is a familiar acquaintance of mine. But how shall wee doe, that -<i>Buffalmaco</i> may not know heereof? I can never speake to her, if hee -be in my company. For <i>Buffalmaco</i> (quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) I have no -feare of all, but rather of <i>Nello</i>, because he is a neer Kinsman to my -wife, and he is able to undo me quite, if once it should come to his -hearing. Thou saist well, replyed <i>Bruno</i>, therefore the matter hath -neede to be very cleanly carried.</p> - -<p>Now let me tell you, the Woman was well enough knowne to -<i>Bruno</i>, as also her quality of life, which <i>Phillippo</i> had acquainted -him withall, and the reason of her resorting thither. Wherefore, -<i>Calandrino</i> going forth of the roome where they wrought, onely to -gaine another sight of <i>Nicholetta, Bruno</i> revealed the whole history -to <i>Buffalmaco</i> and <i>Nello</i>; they all concluding together, how this amorous -fit of the foole was to be followed. And when <i>Calandrino</i> -was returned backe againe; in whispering manner <i>Bruno</i> said to him. -Hast thou once more seene her? Yes, yes <i>Bruno</i>, answered <i>Calandrino</i>: -Alas, she hath slaine me with her very eye, and I am no better -then a dead man. Be patient said <i>Bruno</i>, I will goe and see whether -she be the same woman which I take her for, or no: and if it prove -so, then never feare, but refer the businesse unto me.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i> descending downe the staires, found <i>Phillippo</i> and <i>Nicholetta</i> -in conference together, and stepping unto them, discoursed at -large, what manner of man <i>Calandrino</i> was, and how farre he was -falne in love with her: so that they made a merry conclusion, what -should be performed in this case, onely to make a pastime of his hot -begun love. And being come backe againe to <i>Calandrino</i>, he saide. -It is the same woman whereof I told thee, and therefore wee must -worke wisely in the businesse: for if <i>Phillippo</i> perceive any thing, all -the water in <i>Arno</i> will hardly serve to quench his fury. But what -wouldst thou have me say to her on thy behalfe, if I compasse the -meanes to speake with her? First of all (quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) and in -the prime place, tell her, that I wish infinite bushels of those blessings, -which makes Maides Mothers, and begetteth children. Next, -that I am onely hers, in any service she wil command me. Dooest -thou understand me what I say? Sufficiently answered <i>Bruno</i>, leave -all to me.</p> - -<p>When supper time was come, that they gave over working, and -were descended downe into the Court: there they found <i>Phillippo</i> -and <i>Nicholetta</i> readily attending to expect some beginning of amorous -behaviour, and <i>Calandrino</i> glanced such leering lookes at her, -coughing and spetting with hummes and haes, yea in such close and -secret manner, that a starke blinde sight might verie easily have perceyved -it.</p> - -<p>She also on the other side, returned him such queint and cunning -carriage, as enflamed him farre more furiously, even as if hee -were ready to leape out of himselfe. In the meane while, <i>Phillippo, -Buffalmaco</i> and the rest that were there present, seeming as if they -were seriouslie consulting together, and perceived nothing of his -fantastick behaviour, according as <i>Bruno</i> had appointed, could scarse -refraine from extremity of laughter, they noted such antick trickes -in <i>Calandrino</i>.</p> - -<p>Having spent an indifferent space in this foppish folly, the houre -of parting came, but not without wonderful affliction to <i>Calandrino</i>; -and as they were going towards <i>Florence, Bruno</i> saide closely to -<i>Calandrino</i>. I dare assure thee, that thou hast made her to consume -and melt, even like ice against the warme Sunne. On my word, if -thou wouldst bring thy Gitterne, and sit downe by us, singing some -few amorous songs of thine owne making, when we are beneath about -our businesse in the Court: shee would presently leape out of -the Window, as being unable to tarry from thee.</p> - -<p>I like thy counsell well <i>Bruno</i>, answered <i>Calandrino</i>; but shall I -bring my Gitterne thither indeed? Yes, in any case, replied <i>Bruno</i>, -for Musicke is a matter of mighty prevailing. Ah <i>Bruno</i> (quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) -thou wouldst not credit me in the morning, when I tolde -thee, how the very sight of my person had wounded her: I perceived -it at the very first looke of her owne, for shee had no power to -conceale it. Who but my selfe could so soone have enflamed her -affection, and being a woman of such worth and beauty as shee is? -There are infinite proper handsome fellowes, that daily haunt the -company of dainty Damosels, yet are so shallow in the affayres of -love, as they are not able to win one wench of a thousand, no, not -with all the wit they have, such is their extreame follie and ill fortune.</p> - -<p>Then pausing a while, and sodainely rapping out a Lovers Oath -or two, thus he proceeded. My dearest <i>Bruno</i>, thou shalt see how I -can tickle my Gitterne, and what good sport will ensue thereon. If -thou dost observe me with judgement, why man, I am not so old as -I seeme to be, and she could perceive it at the very first view; yea, -and she shall finde it so too, when we have leysure to consult upon -further occasions: I finde my selfe in such a free and frolicke jocunditie -of spirit, that I will make her to follow me, even as a fond woman -doth after her child.</p> - -<p>But beware, saide <i>Bruno</i>, that thou do not gripe her over-hard, -and in kissing, bee carefull of biting, because the teeth stand in thy -head like the pegges of a Lute, yet make a comely shew in thy faire -wide mouth, thy cheekes looking like two of our artificiall Roses, -swelling amiably, when thy jawes are well fild with meat. <i>Calandrino</i> -hearing these hansome commendations, thought himselfe a man -of action already, going, singing, and frisking before his companie -so lively, as if he had not bin in his skin.</p> - -<p>On the morrow, carrying his Gitterne thither with him, to the no -little delight of his companions, hee both played and sung a whole -Bed-role of Songs, not addicting himselfe to any worke all the day: -but loitering fantastically, one while he gazed out at the window, -then ran to the gate, and oftentimes downe into the Court, onely -to have a sight of his Mistresse. She also (as cunningly) encountred -all his follies, by such directions as <i>Bruno</i> gave her, and many more -beside of her owne devising, to quicken him still with new occasions; -<i>Bruno</i> plaid the Ambassador betweene them, in delivering the -messages from <i>Calandrino</i>, and then returning her answers to him. -Sometimes when she was absent thence (which often hapned as occasions -called her) then he would write letters in her name, & bring -them, as if they were sent by her, to give him hope of what hee desired, -but because she was then among her kindred, yet she could not -be unmindfull of him.</p> - -<p>In this manner, <i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i> (who had the managing of -this amorous businesse) made a meere Gregory of poore <i>Calandrino</i>, -causing him somtimes to send her, one while a pretty peece of -Ivory, then a faire wrought purse, and a costly paire of knives, with -other such like friendly tokens: bringing him backe againe, as in requitall -of them, counterfetted Rings of no valew, Bugles and bables, -which he esteemed as matters of great moment. Moreover, at divers -close and sodain meetings, they made him pay for many dinners & -suppers, amounting to indifferent charges, onely to be carefull in the -furtherance of his love-suit, and to conceale it from his wife.</p> - -<p>Having worne out three or foure months space in this fond and -frivolous manner, without any other successe then as hath bene declared; -and <i>Calandrino</i> perceiving, that the works undertaken by -him and his fellowes, grew very neere uppon the finishing, which -would barre him of any longer resorting thither: hee began to solicite -<i>Bruno</i> more importunately, then all the while before he hadde -done. In regard whereof, <i>Nicholetta</i> being one day come thither, & -<i>Bruno</i> having conferred both with her and <i>Phillippo</i>, with full determination -what was to be done, he began with <i>Calandrino</i>, saying. -My honest Neighbour and Friend, this Woman hath made a thousand -promises, to graunt what thou art so desirous to have, and I -plainly perceive that she hath no such meaning, but meerely plaies -with both our noses. In which respect, seeing she is so perfidious, -and will not perfourme one of all her faithfull-made promises: if -thou wilt content to have it so, she shall be compelled to do it whether -she will or no. Yea marry <i>Bruno</i>, answered <i>Calandrino</i>, that -were an excellent course indeede, if it could be done, and with expedition.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i> stood musing awhile to himselfe, as if he had some strange -stratagem in his braine, & afterward said. Hast thou so much corage -<i>Calandrino</i>, as but to handle a peece of written parchment, which I -will give thee? Yes, that I have answered <i>Calandrino</i>, I hope that -needed not to be doubted. Well then, saide <i>Bruno</i>, procure that I -may have a piece of Virgin Parchment brought mee, with a living -Bat or Reremouse; three graines of Incense, and an hallowed Candle, -then leave me to effect what shal content thee. <i>Calandrino</i> watched -all the next night following, with such preparation as he could -make, onely to catch a Bat; which being taken at the last, he broght -it alive to <i>Bruno</i> (with all the other materials appointed) who taking -him alone into a backer Chamber, there hee wrote divers follies -on the Parchment, in the shape of strange and unusuall Charracters, -which he delivered to <i>Calandrino</i>, saying: Be bold <i>Calandrino</i>, -and build constantly uppon my wordes, that if thou canst but -touch her with this sacred Charractred charme, she will immediately -follow thee, and fulfill whatsoever thou pleasest to command hir. -Wherefore, if <i>Phillippo</i> do this day walke any whither abroad from -this house, presume to salute her, in any manner whatsoever it be, & -touching her with the written lines, go presently to the barn of hay, -which thou perceivest so neere adjoyning, the onely convenient -place that can be, because few or none resort thither. She shall (in -despight of her blood) follow thee; and when thou hast her there, -I leave thee then to thy valiant victory. <i>Calandrino</i> stood on tiptoe, -like a man newly molded by Fortune, and warranted <i>Bruno</i> to fulfill -all effectually.</p> - -<p><i>Nello</i>, whom <i>Calandrino</i> most of all feared and mistrusted, had a -hand as deepe as any of the rest in this deceite, and was as forward -also to have it performed, by <i>Brunoes</i> direction, hee went unto <i>Florence</i>, -where being in company with <i>Calandrinoes</i> Wife, thus hee -began.</p> - -<p>Cousine, thine unkinde usage by thine husband, is not unknown -to me, how he did beate thee (beyond the compasse of all reason) -when he brought home stones from the plain of <i>Mugnone</i>; in which -regard, I am very desirous to have thee revenged on him: which if -thou wilt not do; never repute me heereafter for thy Kinsman and -Friend. He is falne in love with a Woman of the common gender, -one that is to be hired for money: he hath his private meetings with -her, and the place is partly knowne to me, as by a secret appointment -(made very lately) I am credibly given to understand; wherefore -walke presently along with me, and thou shalt take him in the -heat of his knavery.</p> - -<p>All the while as these words were uttering to her, shee could not -dissemble her inward impatience, but starting up as halfe franticke -with fury, she said. O notorious villaine! Darest thou abuse thine -honest wife so basely? I sweare by blessed Saint <i>Bridget</i>, thou shalt -be paid with coyne of thine owne stampe. So casting a light wearing -Cloake about her, and taking a young woman in her company; -shee went away with <i>Nello</i> in no meane haste. <i>Bruno</i> seeing her -comming a farre off, said to <i>Phillippo</i>: You Sir, you know what is -to be done, act your part according to your appointment. <i>Phillippo</i> -went immediately into the roome, where <i>Calandrino</i> and his other -Consorts were at worke, and said to them. Honest friends, I have -certaine occasions which command mine instant being at <i>Florence</i>: -worke hard while I am absent, and I will not be unthankefull for it. -Away hee departed from them, and hid himselfe in a convenient -place, where he could not be descryed, yet see whatsoever <i>Calandrino</i> -did: who when he imagined <i>Phillippo</i> to be farre enough off, -descended downe into the Court, where he found <i>Nicholetta</i> sitting -alone, and going towards her, began to enter into discoursing -with her.</p> - -<p>She knowing what remained to bee done on her behalfe, drew -somewhat neere him, and shewed her selfe more familiar then formerly -she had done: by which favourable meanes, he touched her -with the charmed Parchment, which was no sooner done; but without -using any other kinde of language, hee went to the hay-Barne, -whither <i>Nicholetta</i> followed him, and both being entred, he closed -the Barne doore, and then stood gazing on her, as if hee had never -seene her before. Standing stil as in a study, or bethinking himselfe -what he should say: she began to use affable gesture to him, and taking -him by the hand, made shew as if shee meant to kisse him, -which yet she refrained, though he (rather then his life) would gladly -have had it. Why how now deare <i>Calandrino</i> (quoth she) jewell -of my joy, comfort of my heart, how many times have I longed -for thy sweet Company? And enjoying it now, according to mine -owne desire, dost thou stand like a Statue, or man <i>alla morte</i>? The -rare tunes of the Gitterne, but (much more) the melodious accents -of thy voyce, excelling <i>Orpheus</i> or <i>Amphion</i>, so ravished my soule, -as I know not how to expresse the depth of mine affection; and yet -hast thou brought me hither, onely to looke babies in mine eyes, -and not so much as speake one kinde word to me?</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i>, having hid themselves close behinde <i>Phillippo</i>, -they both heard and saw all this amourous conflict, and as -<i>Calandrino</i> was quickning his courage, and wiping his mouth, with -intent to kisse her: his wife and <i>Nello</i> entred into the Barne, which -caused <i>Nicholetta</i> to get her gone presently, sheltring her self where -<i>Phillippo</i> lay scouting. But the enraged woman ranne furiously -upon poore daunted <i>Calandrino</i>, making such a pitifull massacre -with her nailes, and tearing the haire from his head, as hee -meerely looked like an infected Anatomy. Fowle loathsome dog -(quoth she) must you be at your minions, and leave mee hunger-starved -at home? An olde knave with (almost) never a good tooth -in thy head, and yet art thou neighing after young wenches? hast -thou not worke enough at home, but must bee gadding in to other -mens grounds? Are these the fruites of wandring abroad?</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> being in this pittifull perplexity, stood like one neither -alive nor dead, nor daring to use any resistance against her; but -fell on his knees before his Wife, holding up his hands for mercy, -and entreating her (for charities sake) not to torment him any more: -for he had committed no harme at all, and the Gentlewoman was -his Masters Wife, who came with no such intent thither, as shee -fondly imagined. Wife, or wife not (quoth she) I would have none -to meddle with my Husband, but I that have the most right to -him.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i>, who had laughed all this while heartily at -this pastime, with <i>Phillippo</i> and <i>Nicholetta</i>; came running in haste -to know the reason of this loude noise, and after they had pacified -the woman with gentle perswasions: they advised <i>Calandrino</i> to -walke with his Wife to <i>Florence</i>, and returne no more to worke -there againe, least <i>Phillippo</i> hearing what had hapned, should be revenged -on him with some outrage. Thus poore <i>Calandrino</i> miserably -misused and beaten, went home to <i>Florence</i> with his Wife, -scoulded and raild at all the way, beside his other mollestations (day -and night) afterward: his Companions, <i>Phillippo</i> and <i>Nicholetta</i>, -making themselves merry at his mis-fortune.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Two_young_Gentlemen_the_one_named_Panuccio_and_the_other_Adriano" id="Two_young_Gentlemen_the_one_named_Panuccio_and_the_other_Adriano"><i>Two young Gentlemen, the one named</i> Panuccio, <i>and the other</i> Adriano, -<i>lodged one night in a poore Inne, where one of them went to bed -to the Hostes Daughter, and the other (by mistaking his way in the -darke) to the Hostes wife. He which lay with the daughter, happened -afterward to the Hostes bed, and told him what he had done, as -thinking he spake to his owne companyon. Discontentment growing -betweene them, the Mother perceiving her error, went to bed -to her daughter, and with discreete language, made a generall pacification.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Sixt Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is manifested, that an offence committed ignorantly, and by -mistaking; ought to be covered with good advise, and civill discretion.</i></h4> - - -<p><i>Calandrino</i>, whose mishaps had so many times made the -whole assembly merry, and this last passing among them -with indifferent commendations: upon a generall silence -commanded, the Queene gave order to <i>Pamphilus</i>, that hee should -follow next, as indeed he did, beginning thus. Praise-worthy Ladies, -the name of <i>Nicholetta</i>, so fondly affected by <i>Calandrino</i>, putteth -mee in minde of a Novell, concerning another <i>Nicholetta</i>, -of whom I purpose to speake: to the ende you may observe -how by a sudden wary fore-sight, a discreet woman compassed the -meanes to avoyde a notorious scandall.</p> - -<p>On the plaine of <i>Mugnone</i>, neere to <i>Florence</i>, dwelt (not long -since) an honest meane man, who kept a poore Inne or Ostery for -travellers, where they might have some slender entertainement for -their money. As he was but a poore man, so his house affoorded -but very small receit of guests, not lodging any but on necessity, -and such as he had some knowledge of. This honest poore hoste -had a woman (sufficiently faire) to his wife, by whom hee had also -two children, the one a comely young maiden, aged about fifteene -yeares, and the other a sonne, not fully (as yet) a yeare old, and sucking -on the mothers brest.</p> - -<p>A comely youthfull Gentleman of our City, became amorously -affected to the Damosell, resorting thither divers times as hee travelled -on the way, to expresse how much he did respect her. And -she accounting her fortune none of the meanest, to bee beloved by -so youthfull a Gallant, declared such vertuous and modest demeanour, -as might deserve his best opinion of her: so that their love -grew to an equall simpathy, and mutuall contentment of them -both, in expectation of further effects; he being named <i>Panuccio</i>, -and she <i>Nicholetta</i>.</p> - -<p>The heate of affection thus encreasing day by day, <i>Panuccio</i> -grew exceedingly desirous to enjoy the fruits of his long continued -liking, and divers devises mustred in his braine, how he might compasse -one nights lodging in her fathers house, whereof hee knew every -part and parcell, as not doubting to effect what hee desired, -yet undiscovered by any, but the maide her selfe.</p> - -<p>According as his intention aymed, so he longed to put it in execution, -and having imparted his mind to an honest loyall friend, -named <i>Adriano</i>, who was acquainted with the course of his love: -hyring two horses, and having Portmantues behind them, filled -with matters of no moment, they departed from <i>Florence</i>, as if they -had some great journey to ride. Having spent the day time where -themselves best pleased, darke night being entred, they arrived on -the plaine of <i>Mugnone</i>, where, as if they were come from the parts -of <i>Romanio</i>, they rode directly to this poore Inne, and knocking at -the doore, the honest Hoste (being familiar and friendly to all commers) -opened the doore, when <i>Panuccio</i> spake in this manner to -him. Good man, we must request one nights lodging with you, -for we thought to have reached so farre as <i>Florence</i>, but dark night -preventing us, you see at what a late houre wee are come hither. -Signior <i>Panuccio</i>, answered the hoste, it is not unknowne to you, -how unfiting my poore house is, for entertaining such guests as you -are: Neverthelesse, seeing you are overtaken by so unseasonable an -houre, and no other place is neere for your receite; I will gladly -lodge you so well as I can.</p> - -<p>When they were dismounted from their horses, and entred into -the simple Inne: having taken order for feeding their horses, they -accepted such provision, as the place and time afforded, requesting -the Hoste to suppe with them. Now I am to tell you, that there -was but one small Chamber in the house, wherein stood three beds, -as best the Hoste had devised to place them, two of them standing -by the walles side, and the third fronting them both, but with such -close and narrow passage, as very hardly could one step betweene -them. The best of these three beds was appointed for the Gentlemen, -and therein theyd lay them down to rest, but sleepe they could -not, albeit they dissembled it very formally. In the second Bed -was <i>Nicholetta</i> the daughter, lodged by her selfe, and the father and -mother in the third, and because she was to give the child sucke in -the night time, the Cradle (wherein it lay) stood close by their -beds side, because the childes crying or any other occasion concerning -it, should not disquiet the Gentlemen.</p> - -<p><i>Panuccio</i> having subtily observed all this, and in what manner -they went to bed; after such a space of time, as he imagined them -to be all fast asleepe, he arose very softly, and stealing to the bed of -<i>Nicholetta</i>, lay downe gently by her. And albeit she seemed somewhat -affraid at the first, yet when she perceived who it was, shee rather -bad him welcome, then shewed her selfe any way discontented. -Now while <i>Panuccio</i> continued thus with the maide, it fortuned -that a Cat threw down somewhat in the house, the noise whereof -awaked the wife, and fearing greater harme, then (indeed) had -hapned, she arose without a Candle, and went groping in the darke, -towards the place where shee heard the noyse. <i>Adriano</i>, who had -no other meaning but well, found occasion also to rise, about some -naturall necessity, and making his passage in the darke, stumbled on -the childes Cradle (in the way) where the woman had set it, and being -unable to passe by, without removing it from the place: tooke -and set it by his owne beds side, and having done the businesse for -which he rose, returned to his bed againe, never remembring to -set the Cradle where first he found it.</p> - -<p>The Wife having found the thing throwne downe being of no -value or moment, cared not for lighting any candle; but rating the -Cat, returned backe, feeling for the bed where her Husband lay, but -finding not the Cradle there, she said to her selfe. What a foolish -woman am I, that cannot well tell my selfe what I doe? Instead of -my Husbands bed, I am going to both my guests.</p> - -<p>So, stepping on a little further, she found the childes Cradle, and -laid her selfe downe by <i>Adriano</i>, thinking shee had gone right to -her Husband. <i>Adriano</i> being not yet falne asleepe, feeling the hostesse -in bed with him: tooke advantage of so faire an occasion offered, -and what he did, is no businesse of mine, (as I heard) neither -found the woman any fault. Matters comming to passe in this -strange manner, and <i>Panuccio</i> fearing, lest sleepe seazing on him, -he might disgrace the maides reputation: taking his kinde farewell -of her, with many kisses and sweet imbraces: returned againe -to his owne Bed, but meeting with the Cradle in his way, and thinking -it stood by the hostes Bed, (as truely it did so at the first) went -backe from the Cradle, and stept into the hostes Bed indeed, who -awaked upon his very entrance, albeit he slept very soundly before.</p> - -<p><i>Panuccio</i> supposing that he was laid downe by his loving friend -<i>Adriano</i>, merrily said to the Hoste. I protest to thee, as I am a Gentleman, -<i>Nicholetta</i> is a dainty delicate wench, and worthy to be a -very good mans wife: this night shee hath given mee the sweetest -entertainement, as the best Prince in the world can wish no better, -and I have kist her most kindly for it. The Hoste hearing these -newes, which seemed very unwelcome to him, said first to himself: -What make such a devill heere in my Bedde? Afterward being -more rashly angry, then well advised, hee said to <i>Panuccio</i>. Canst -thou makes vaunt of such a mounstrous villany? Or thinkest thou, -that heaven hath not due vengeance in store, to requite all wicked -deeds of darkenesse? If all should sleepe, yet I have courage sufficient -to right my wrong, and yet as olde as I am thou shalt be sure to -finde it.</p> - -<p>Our amorous <i>Panuccio</i> being none of the wisest young men -in the world, perceiving his error; sought not to amend it, (as well -he might have done) with some queint straine of wit, carried in -quicke and cleanly manner, but angerly answered. What shall I -find that thou darst doe to me? am I any way affraid of thy threatnings? -The Hostes imagining she was in bed with her Husband, -said to <i>Adriano</i>: Harke Husband, I thinke our Guests are quarrelling -together, I hope they will doe no harme to one another. <i>Adriano</i> -laughing outright, answered. Let them alone, and become -friends againe as they fell out: perhaps they dranke too much yesternight.</p> - -<p>The woman perceiving that it was her husband that quarrelled, -and distinguishing the voyce of <i>Adriano</i> from his: knew presently -where shee was, and with whom; wherefore having wit at will, -and desirous to cloude an error unadvisedly committed, and with -no willing consent of her selfe: without returning any more words, -presently she rose, and taking the Cradle with the child in it, removed -it thence to her daughters bed side, although shee had no -light to helpe her, and afterward went to bed to her, where (as if -she were but newly awaked) she called her Husband, to understand -what angry speeches had past betweene him and <i>Panuccio</i>. The -Hoste replyed, saying. Didst thou not heare him wife, brag & boast, -how he hath lyen this night with our daughter <i>Nicholetta</i>? Husband -(quoth she) he is no honest Gentleman; if hee should say so, -and beleeve me it is a manifest lye, for I am in bed with her my -selfe, and never yet closed mine eyes together, since the first houre I -laid me downe: it is unmannerly done of him to speake it, and you -are little lesse then a logger-head, if you doe beleeve it. This proceedeth -from your bibbing and swilling yesternight, which (as it -seemeth) maketh you to walke about the roome in your sleepe, -dreaming of wonders in the night season: it were no great sinne if -you brake your necks, to teach you keepe a fairer quarter; and how -commeth it to passe, that Signior <i>Panuccio</i> could not keepe himselfe -in his owne bed?</p> - -<p><i>Adriano</i> (on the other side) perceiving how wisely the woman -excused her owne shame and her daughters; to backe her in a businesse -so cunningly begun, he called to <i>Panuccio</i>, saying. Have not I -tolde thee an hundred times, that thou art not fit to lye any where; -out of thine owne lodging? What a shame is this base imperfection -to thee, by rising and walking thus in the night-time, according -as thy dreames doe wantonly delude thee, and cause thee to forsake -thy bed, telling nothing but lies and fables, yet avouching them for -manifest truthes? Assuredly this will procure no meane perill unto -thee: Come hither, and keepe in thine owne bedde for meere -shame.</p> - -<p>When the honest meaning Host heard, what his own Wife and -<i>Adriano</i> had confirmed: he was verily perswaded, that <i>Panuccio</i> -spake in a dreame all this while: And to make it the more constantly -apparant, <i>Panuccio</i> (being now growne wiser by others example) -lay talking and blundring to himselfe, even as if dreames or -perturbations of the minde did much molest him, with strange distractions -in franticke manner. Which the Hoste perceiving, and -compassionating his case, as one man should do anothers: he tooke -him by the shoulders, jogging and hunching him, saying. Awake -Signior <i>Panuccio</i>, and get you gone hence to your owne bed.</p> - -<p><i>Panuccio</i>, yawning and stretching out his limbes, with unusuall -groanes and respirations, such as (better) could bee hardly dissembled: -seemed to wake as out of a traunce, and calling his friend -<i>Adriano</i>, said.</p> - -<p><i>Adriano</i>, is it day, that thou dost waken me? It may be day or -night replyed <i>Adriano</i>, for both (in these fits) are alike to thee. Arise -man for shame, and come to thine lodging. Then faining to be -much troubled and sleepie, he arose from the hoast, and went to <i>Adrianoes</i> -bed.</p> - -<p>When it was day, and all in the house risen, the hoast began to -smile at <i>Panuccio</i>, mocking him with his idle dreaming and talking -in the night.</p> - -<p>So, falling from one merry matter to another, yet without any -mislike at all: the Gentlemen, having their horses prepared, and -their Portmantues fastened behind, drinking to their hoast, mounted -on horsebacke, and they roade away towards <i>Florence</i>, no lesse -contented with the manner of occasions happened, then the effects -they sorted to. Afterward, other courses were taken, for the continuance -of this begun pleasure with <i>Nicholetta</i>, who made her mother -beleeve, that <i>Panuccio</i> did nothing else but dreame. And the -mother her selfe remembring how kindely <i>Adriano</i> had used -her (a fortune not expected by her before:) was more then halfe -of the minde, that she did then dreame also, while she was waking.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Talano_de_Molese_dreamed_That_a_Wolfe_rent_and_tore_his_wives_face" id="Talano_de_Molese_dreamed_That_a_Wolfe_rent_and_tore_his_wives_face">Talano de Molese <i>dreamed, That a Wolfe rent and tore his wives face -and throate. Which dreame he told to her, with advise to keep her -selfe out of danger; which she refusing to doe, received what followed.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Seventh Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Whereby (with some indifferent reason) it is concluded, that Dreames -do not alwayes fall out to be leasings.</i></h4> - - -<p>By the conclusion of <i>Pamphilus</i> his Novel, wherein the womans -ready wit, at a time of such necessity, carried deserved -commendations: the Queen gave command to Madam -<i>Pampinea</i>, that she should next begin with hers, and so she did, -in this manner. In some discourses (gracious Ladies) already past -among us, the truth of apparitions in dreames hath partly bin approved, -whereof very many have made a mockery. Neverthelesse, -whatsoever hath heeretofore bin sayde, I purpose to acquaint you -with a very short Novell, of a strange accident happening unto a -neighbour of mine, in not crediting a Dreame which her Husband -told her.</p> - -<p>I cannot tell, whether you knew <i>Talano de Molese</i>, or no, a man -of much honour, who tooke to wife a young Gentlewoman, named -<i>Margarita</i>, as beautifull as the best: but yet so peevish, scornefull, -and fantasticall, that she disdained any good advice given her; neyther -could any thing be done, to cause her contentment; which absurd -humors were highly displeasing to her husband: but in regard -he knew not how to helpe it, constrainedly he did endure it. It came -to passe, that <i>Talano</i> being with his wife, at a summer-house of his -owne in the country, he dreamed one night, that he saw his Wife -walking in a faire wood, which adjoyned neere unto his house, and -while she thus continued there, he seemed to see issue foorth from a -corner of the said Wood, a great and furious Wolfe, which leaping -sodainly on her, caught her by the face and throate, drawing -her downe to the earth, and offering to drag her thence. But he crying -out for helpe, recovered her from the Wolfe, yet having her -face and throat very pitifully rent and torne.</p> - -<p>In regard of this terrifying dreame, when <i>Talano</i> was risen in the -morning, and sate conversing with his wife, he spake thus unto hir. -Woman, although thy froward wilfull Nature be such, as hath not -permitted me one pleasing day with thee, since first we becam man -and wife, but rather my life hath bene most tedious to me, as fearing -still some mischeefe should happen to thee: yet let mee now in loving -manner advise thee, to follow my counsell, and (this day) not -to walke abroad out of this house. She demanded a reason for this -advice of his. He related to her every particular of his dreame, adding -with all these speeches.</p> - -<p>True it is Wife (quoth he) that little credit should bee given to -dreames: neverthelesse, when they deliver advertisement of harmes -to ensue, there is nothing lost by shunning and avoiding them. She -fleering in his face, and shaking her head at him, replyed. Such -harmes as thou wishest, such thou dreamest of. Thou pretendest -much pittie and care of me, but all to no other end: but what mischeefes -thou dreamest happening unto mee, so wouldest thou see -them effected on me. Wherefore, I will well enough looke to my -selfe, both this day, and at all times else: because thou shalt never -make thy selfe merry, with any such misfortune as thou wishest unto -me.</p> - -<p>Well Wife, answered <i>Talano</i>, I knew well enough before, what -thou wouldst say: An unsound head is soone scratcht with the very -gentlest Combe: but beleeve as thou pleasest. As for my selfe, I -speake with a true and honest meaning soule, and once againe I do -advise thee, to keepe within our doores all this day: at least wife beware, -that thou walke not into our wood, bee it but in regard of my -dreame. Well sir (quoth she scoffingly) once you shall say, I followed -your counsell: but within her selfe she fell to this murmuring. -Now I perceive my husbands cunning colouring, & why I must not -walke this day into our wood: he hath made a compact with some -common Queane, closely to have her company there, and is affraide -least I shold take them tardy. Belike he would have me feed among -blinde folke, and I were worthy to bee thought a starke foole, if I -should not prevent a manifest trechery, being intended against me. -Go thither therefore I will, and tarry there all the whole day long; -but I will meet with him in his merchandize, and see the Pink wherein -he adventures.</p> - -<p>After this her secret consultation, her husband was no sooner -gone forth at one doore, but shee did the like at another, yet so secretly -as possibly she could devise to doe, and (without any delaying) -she went to the Wood, wherein she hid her selfe very closely, -among the thickest of the bushes, yet could discerne every way about -her, if any body should offer to passe by her. While shee kept -her selfe in this concealment, suspecting other mysterious matters, -as her idle imagination had tutord her, rather then the danger of any -Wolfe; out of a brakie thicket by her, sodainly rushed a huge & -dreadfull Wolfe, as having found her by the sent, mounting uppe, -and grasping her throat in his mouth, before she saw him, or could -call to heaven for mercy.</p> - -<p>Being thus seised of her, he carried her as lightly away, as if shee -had bin no heavier then a Lambe, she being (by no meanes) able to -cry, because he held her so fast by the throate, and hindred any helping -of her selfe. As the Wolfe carried her thus from thence, he had -quite strangled her, if certaine Shepheards had not met him, who -with their outcries and exclaimes at the Wolfe, caused him to let -her fall, and hast away to save his owne life. Notwithstanding the -harme done to her throat and face, the shepheards knew her, and -caried her home to her house, where she remained a long while after, -carefully attended by Physitians and Chirurgians.</p> - -<p>Now, although they were very expert and cunning men all, yet -could they not so perfectly cure her, but both her throate, and part -of her face were so blemished, that whereas she seemed a rare creature -before, she was now deformed and much unsightly. In regard -of which strange alteration, being ashamed to shew her selfe in any -place, where formerly she had bene seene: she spent her time in sorrow -and mourning, repenting her insolent and scornfull carriage, as -also her rash running forth into danger, upon a foolish and jealous -surmise, beleeving her husbands dreames the better for ever after.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Blondello_in_a_merry_manner_caused_Guiotto_to_beguile_himselfe_of" id="Blondello_in_a_merry_manner_caused_Guiotto_to_beguile_himselfe_of">Blondello <i>(in a merry manner) caused</i> Guiotto <i>to beguile himselfe of -a good dinner: for which deceit,</i> Guiotto <i>became cunningly revenged, -by procuring</i> Blondello <i>to be unreasonably beaten and misused.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Eight Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Whereby plainly appeareth, that they which take delight in deceiving -others, do well deserve to be deceived themselves.</i></h4> - - -<p>It was a generall opinion in the whole Joviall Companie, -that whatsoever <i>Talano</i> saw in his sleepe, was not anie -dreame, but rather a vision: considring, every part thereof -fell out so directly, without the lest failing. But when silence was -enjoyned, then the Queene gave forth by evident demonstration, -that Madam <i>Lauretta</i> was next to succeed, whereupon she thus began. -As all they (judicious hearers) which have this day spoken before -me, derived the ground or project of their Novels, from some -other argument spoken of before: even so, the cruell revenge of -the Scholler, yesterday discoursed at large by Madame <i>Pampinea</i>, -maketh me to remember another Tale of like nature, some-what -greevous to the sufferer, yet not in such cruell measure inflicted, as -that on Madam <i>Helena</i>.</p> - -<p>There dwelt sometime in <i>Florence</i>, one who was generally called -by the name of <i>Guiotto</i>, a man being the greatest Gourmand, and -grossest feeder, as ever was seene in any Countrey, all his meanes & -procurements meerly unable to maintaine expences for filling his -belly. But otherwise he was of sufficient and commendable carriage, -fairely demeaned, and well discoursing on any argument: yet, -not as a curious and spruce Courtier, but rather a frequenter of -rich mens Tables, where choice of good cheere is sildome wanting, -& such should have his company, albeit not invited, yet (like a bold -intruder) he had the courage to bid himselfe welcome.</p> - -<p>At the same time, and in our City of <i>Florence</i> also, there was another -man, named <i>Blondello</i>, very low of stature; yet comely formed, -quicke witted, more neat and brisk then a Butter flye, alwaies wearing -a wrought silke cap on his head, and not a haire staring out of -order, but the tuft flourishing above the forehead, and he such another -trencher-fly for the table, as our forenamed <i>Guiotto</i> was. It so -fel out on a morning in the Lent time, that hee went into the Fish-market, -where he bought two goodly Lampreyes, for <i>Messer Viero -de Cherchi</i>, and was espied by <i>Guiotto</i>, who (comming to <i>Blondello</i>) -said. What is the meaning of this cost, and for whom is it? Whereto -<i>Blondello</i> thus answered. Yesternight, three other Lampries, far -fairer and fatter then these, and a whole Sturgeon, were sent unto -<i>Messer Corso Donati</i>, and being not sufficient to feede divers Gentlemen, -whom hee hath invited this day to dine with him, hee caused -me to buy these two beside: Doest not thou intend to make one among -them? Yes I warrant thee, replied <i>Guiotto</i>, thou knowst I can -invite my selfe thither, without any other bidding.</p> - -<p>So parting; about the houre of dinner time, <i>Guiotto</i> went to the -house of the saide <i>Messer Corso</i>, whom he found sitting and talking -with certain of his neighbours, but dinner was not (as yet) ready, neither -were they come thither to dinner. <i>Messer Corso</i> demaunded of -<i>Guiotto</i>, what newes with him, and whither he went? Why Sir (said -<i>Guiotto</i>) I come to dine with you, and your good company. Whereto -<i>Messer Corso</i> answered, That he was welcome, & his other friends -being gone, dinner was served in, none else thereat present but <i>Messer -Corso</i> and <i>Guiotto</i>: al the diet being a poore dish of Pease, a little piece -of Tunny, & a few small dishes fried, without any other dishes to follow -after. <i>Guiotto</i> seeing no better fare, but being disapointed of his -expectation, as longing to feed on the Lampries and Sturgeon, and -so to have made a full dinner indeed: was of a quick apprehension, & -apparantly perceived, that <i>Blondello</i> had meerly guld him in a knavery, -which did not a little vex him, and made him vow to be revenged -on <i>Blondello</i>, as he could compasse occasion afterward.</p> - -<p>Before many daies were past, it was his fortune to meete with -<i>Blondello</i>, who having told this jest to divers of his friends, and much -good merriment made thereat: he saluted <i>Guiotto</i> in ceremonious -manner, saying. How didst thou like the fat Lampreyes and Sturgeon, -which thou fedst on at the house of <i>Messer Corso Donati</i>? Wel -Sir (answered <i>Guiotto</i>) perhaps before eight dayes passe over my -head, thou shalt meet with as pleasing a dinner as I did. So, parting -away from <i>Blondello</i>, he met with a Porter or burthen-bearer, such -as are usually sent on errands; and hyring him to deliver a message -for him, gave him a glasse bottle, and bringing him neere to the Hal-house -of <i>Cavicciuli</i>, shewed him there a knight, called <i>Signior Phillippo -Argenti</i>, a man of huge stature, stout, strong, vainglorious, fierce -and sooner mooved to anger then any other man. To him (quoth -<i>Guiotto</i>) thou must go with this bottle in thy hand, and say thus to -him. Sir, <i>Blondello</i> sent me to you, and courteously entreateth you, -that you would enrubinate this glasse bottle with your best Claret -Wine; because he would make merry with a few friends of his. But -beware he lay no hand on thee, because he may bee easily induced -to misuse thee, and so my businesse be disappointed. Well Sir replied -the Porter, shal I say any thing else unto him? No (quoth <i>Guiotto</i>) -only go and deliver this message, and when thou art returned, Ile -pay thee for thy paines.</p> - -<p>The Porter being gone to the house, delivered his message to the -knight, who being a man of no great civill breeding, but furious, -rash, and inconsiderate: presently conceived, that <i>Blondello</i> (whom -he knew well enough) sent this message in meere mockage of him, -and starting up with fiery lookes, said: What enrubination of Claret -should I send him? and what have I to do with him, or his drunken -friends? Let him and thee go hang your selves together. So he -stept to catch hold on the Porter, but he (being well warnd before) -was quicke and nimble, and escaping from him, returned backe to -<i>Guiotto</i> (who observed all) and told him the answer of Signior <i>Phillippo. -Guiotto</i> not a little contented, paied the Porter, and taried not -in any place til he met with <i>Blondello</i>, to whom he said. When wast -thou at the Hall of <i>Cavicciuli</i>? Not a long while, answerd <i>Blondello</i>, -but why dost thou demand such a question? Because (quoth <i>Guiotto</i>) -Signior <i>Phillippo</i> hath sought about for thee, yet knowe not I -what he would have with thee. Is it so? replied <i>Blondello</i>, then I wil -walke thither presently, to understand his pleasure.</p> - -<p>When <i>Blondello</i> was thus parted from him, <i>Guiotto</i> followed not -farre off behind him, to behold the issue of this angry businesse; and -Signior <i>Phillippo</i>, because he could not catch the Porter, continued -much distempred, fretting and fuming, in regard he could not comprehend -the meaning of the Porters message: but onely surmized, -that <i>Blondello</i> (by the procurement of some body else) had done this -in scorne of him. While he remained thus deeply discontented, he -espied <i>Blondello</i> comming towards him, and meeting him by the -way, he stept close to him, and gave him a cruell blow on the face, -causing his nose to fall out a bleeding. Alas Sir, said <i>Blondello</i>, wherefore -do you strike me? Signior <i>Phillippo</i>, catching him by the haire -of the head, trampled his wrought night-cap in the dirt, & his cloke -also; when, laying many violent blowes on him, he said. Villanous -Traitor as thou art, Ile teach thee what it is to enrubinate with Claret, -either thy selfe, or any of thy cupping companions: Am I a -child, to be jested withall?</p> - -<p>Nor was he more furious in words, then in strokes also, beating -him about the face, hardly leaving any haire on his head, and dragging -him along in the mire, spoyling all his garments, and he not able -(from the first blow given) to speake a word in defence of himselfe. -In the end, Signior <i>Phillippo</i> having extreamly beaten him, -and many people gathering about them, to succour a man so much -misused, the matter was at large related, and manner of the message -sending. For which, they all present, did greatly reprehend <i>Blondello</i>, -considering he knew what kinde of man <i>Phillippo</i> was, not any -way to be jested withall. <i>Blondello</i> in teares constantly maintained, -that he never sent any such message for wine, or intended it in the -least degree: so, when the tempest was more mildly calmed, and -<i>Blondello</i> (thus cruelly beaten and durtied) had gotten home to his -owne house, he could then remember, that (questionles) this was -occasioned by <i>Guiotto</i>.</p> - -<p>After some few dayes were passed over, and the hurts in his face -indifferently cured; <i>Blondello</i> beginning to walke abroade againe, -chanced to meet with <i>Guiotto</i>: who laughing heartily at him, sayde. -Tell me <i>Blondello</i>, how doost thou like the enrubinating Clarret of -Signior <i>Phillippo</i>? As well (quoth <i>Blondello</i>) as thou didst the Sturgeon -and Lampreyes at <i>Messer Corso Donaties</i>. Why then (sayde -<i>Guiotto</i>) let these two tokens continue familiar betweene thee and -me, when thou wouldst bestow such another dinner on mee, then -wil I enrubinate thy nose with a bottle of the same Claret. But <i>Blondello</i> -perceived (to his cost) that hee had met with the worser bargaine, -and <i>Guiotto</i> got cheare, without any blowes: and therefore -desired a peacefull attonement, each of them (alwayes after) abstaining -from flouting one another.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Two_young_Gentlemen_the_one_named_Melisso_borne_in_the_City_of_Laiazzo" id="Two_young_Gentlemen_the_one_named_Melisso_borne_in_the_City_of_Laiazzo"><i>Two young Gentlemen, the one named</i> Melisso, <i>borne in the City of</i> Laiazzo: -<i>and the other</i> Giosefo <i>of</i> Antioche, <i>travailed together unto</i> -Salomon, <i>the famous King of</i> Great Britaine. <i>The one desiring to -learne what he should do, whereby to compasse and winne the love of -men. The other craved to be enstructed, by what meanes hee might -reclaime an headstrong and unruly wife. And what answeres the -wise King gave unto them both, before they departed away from -him.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Ninth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Containing an excellent admonition, that such as covet to have the -love of other men, must first learne themselves, how to love: Also, by -what meanes such women as are curst and self-willed, may be reduced -to civill obedience.</i></h4> - - -<p>Upon the conclusion of Madame <i>Laurettaes</i> Novell, none -now remained to succeede next in order, but onely the -Queene her selfe, the priviledge reserved, granted to <i>Dioneus</i>; -wherefore, after they had all smiled at the folly of <i>Blondello</i>, -with a chearfull countenance thus the Queene began.</p> - -<p>Honourable Ladies, if with advised judgement, we do duly consider -the order of all things, we shall very easily perceyve, That the -whole universall multiplicitie of Women, by Nature, custome, and -lawes, are & ought to be subject to men, yea, and to be governd by -their discretion. Because every one desiring to enjoy peace, repose -and comfort with them, under whose charge they are; ought to be -humble, patient and obedient, over and beside her spotlesse honesty, -which is the crowne and honour of every good woman. And although -those lawes, which respect the common good of all things, -or rather use & custome (as our wonted saying is) the powers whereof -are very great, and worthy to be referenced, should not make us -wise in this case. Yet Nature hath given us a sufficient demonstration, -in creating our bodies more soft and delicate, yea, and our -hearts timorous, fearefull, benigne and compassionable, our strength -feeble, our voyces pleasing, and the motion of our members sweetly -plyant; all which are apparant testimonies, that wee have neede -of others government.</p> - -<p>Now, it is not to be denyed, that whosoever hath need of helpe, -and is to bee governed: meerely reason commandeth, that they -should bee subject and obedient to their governour. Who then -should we have for our helps and governours, if not men? Wherefore, -we should be intirely subject to them, in giving them due honour -and reverence, and such a one as shall depart from this rule: -she (in mine opinion) is not onely worthy of grievous reprehension, but -also severe chastisement beside. And to this exact consideration -(over and above divers other important reasons) I am -the rather induced, by the Novel which Madame <i>Pampinea</i> so lately -reported, concerning the froward and wilfull wife of <i>Talano</i>, -who had a heavier punishment inflicted on her, then her Husband -could devise to doe. And therefore it is my peremptory sentence, -that all such women as will not be gracious, benigne and pleasing: -doe justly deserve (as I have already said) rude, rough and harsh -handling, as both nature, custome and lawes have commanded.</p> - -<p>To make good what I have said, I wil declare unto you the counsell -& advise, given by <i>Salomon</i>, the wise and famous King of Great -Britaine, as a most wholesome and soveraigne medicine for the -cure of such a dangerous disease, in any woman so fouly infected. -Which counsel (notwithstanding) all such women as have no need -of this Phisicke, I would not have them to imagine, that it was -meant for them, albeit men have a common Proverbe, to wit.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">As the good horse and bad horse, doe both need the spurre.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So a good wife and bad wife, a wand will make stirre.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>Which saying, whosoever doth interpret it in such pleasing manner -as they ought, shal find it (as you al wil affirm no lesse) to be very -true: especially in the morall meaning, it is beyond all contradiction. -Women are naturally all unstable, and easily enclining to misgovernment; -wherefore to correct the iniquity of such a distemperature -in them that out-step the tearmes and bounds of womanhood, -a wand hath been allowed for especiall phisicke. As in the -like manner, for support of vertue, in those of contrary condition, -shaming to be sullyed with so grosse a sinne: the correcting Wand -may serve as a walking staffe, to protect them from all other feares. -But, forbearing to teach any longer; let mee proceed to my purpose, -and tell you my Novell.</p> - -<p>In those ancient and reverend dayes, whereof I am now to speake, -the high renowne and admirable wisedome of <i>Salomon</i>, King of -Great Brittain, was most famous throughout all parts of the world; -for answering all doubtfull questions and demaunds whatsoever, -that possibly could be propounded to him. So that many resorted -to him, from the most remote and furthest off countreyes, to heare -his miraculous knowledge and experience, yea, and to crave his -counsell, in matters of greatest importance. Among the rest of them -which repaired thither, was a rich young Gentleman, honourably -descended, named <i>Melisso</i>, who came from the City of <i>Laiazzo</i>, -where he was both borne, and dwelt.</p> - -<p>In his riding towards <i>France</i>, as he passed by <i>Naples</i>, hee overtooke -another young Gentleman, a native of <i>Antioch</i>, and named -<i>Giosefo</i>, whose journey lay the same way as the others did. Having -ridden in company some few dayes together, as it is a custome commonly -observed among Travellers, to understand one anothers -Countrey and condition, as also to what part his occasions call -him: so happened it with them, <i>Giosefo</i> directly telling him, that he -journeyed towards the wise King <i>Salomon</i>, to desire his advise what -meanes he should observe, in the reclaiming of a wilfull wife, the -most froward and selfe-willed woman that ever lived; whom neither -faire perswasions, nor gentle courtesies could in any manner -prevaile withall. Afterward he demaunded of <i>Melisso</i>, to know the -occasion of his travell, and whither.</p> - -<p>Now trust me Sir, answered <i>Melisso</i>, I am a native of <i>Laiazzo</i>, and -as you are vexed with one great misfortune, even so am I offended -with another. I am young, wealthy, well derived by birth, and allow -liberall expences, for maintaining a worthy table in my house, -without distinguishing persons by their rancke and quality, but -make it free for all commers, both of the city, & all places else. Notwithstanding -all which bounty and honourable entertainement, I -cannot meet with any man that loveth me. In which respect, I -journey to the same place as you doe, to crave the counsell of so -wise a King, what I should doe, whereby I might procure men to -love me. Thus like two well-met friendly companions, they rode -on together, untill they arrived in Great Britaine, where, by meanes -of the Noble Barons attending on the King; they were brought before -him. <i>Melisso</i> delivered his minde in very few words, whereto -the King made no other answere, but this: Learne to love. Which -was no sooner spoken, but <i>Melisso</i> was dismissed from the Kings -presence.</p> - -<p><i>Giosefo</i> also relating, wherefore he came thither; the King replyed -onely thus; Goe to the Goose Bridge: and presently <i>Giosefo</i> had -also his dismission from the King. Comming forth, he found <i>Melisso</i> -attending for him, and revealed in what manner the King had -answered him: whereupon, they consulted together, concerning -both their answeres, which seemed either to exceed their comprehension, -or else was delivered them in meere mockery, and therefore -(more then halfe discontented) they returned homeward againe.</p> - -<p>After they had ridden on a few dayes together, they came to a -River, over which was a goodly Bridge, and because a great company -of Horses and Mules (heavily laden, and after the manner of a -<i>Caravan</i> of Camels in <i>Egypt</i>) were first to passe over the saide -Bridge; they gladly stayed to permit their passe. The greater number -of them being already past over, there was one shie and skittish -Mule (belike subject to fearefull starting, as oftentimes we see horses -have the like ill quality) that would not passe over the Bridge by -any meanes, wherefore one of the Muletters tooke a good -Cudgell, and smote her at the first gently, as hoping so to procure -her passage. Notwithstanding, starting one while backeward, then -againe forward, side-wayes, and every way indeed, but the direct -Road way she would not goe.</p> - -<p>Now grew the Muletter extreamely angry, giving her many -cruell stroakes, on the head, sides, flancks and all parts else, but yet -they proved to no purpose, which <i>Melisso</i> and <i>Giosefo</i> seeing, and -being (by this meanes) hindred of their passage, they called to the -Muletter, saying. Foolish fellow, what doest thou? Intendest thou -to kill the Mule? why dost thou not leade her gently, which is the -likelier course to prevaile by, then beating and misusing her as thou -dost? Content your selves Gentlemen (answered the Muletter) you -know your horses qualities, as I doe my Mules, let mee deale with -her as I please. Having thus spoken, he gave her so many violent -strokes, on head, sides, hippes, and every where else, as made her at -last passe over the Bridge quietly, so that the Muletter wonne the -Mastery of his Mule.</p> - -<p>When <i>Melisso</i> and <i>Giosefo</i> had past over the Bridge, where they -intended to part each from other; a sudden motion happened into -the minde of <i>Melisso</i>, which caused him to demaund of an aged man -(who sate craving almes of Passengers at the Bridge foot) how the -Bridge was called: Sir, answered the old man, this is called, The -Goose Bridge. Which words when <i>Giosefo</i> heard, hee called to -minde the saying of King <i>Salomon</i>, and therefore immediately saide -to <i>Melisso</i>. Worthy friend, and partner in my travell, I dare now -assure you, that the counsell given me by King <i>Salomon</i>, may fall -out most effectuall and true: For I plainely perceive, that I knew -not how to handle my selfe-will'd-wife, untill the Muletter did instruct -me. So, requesting still to enjoy the others Company, they -journeyed on, till at the length they came to <i>Laiazzo</i>, where <i>Giosefo</i> -retained <i>Melisso</i> still with him, for some repose after so long a journey, -and entertained him with very honourable respect and courtesie.</p> - -<p>One day <i>Giosefo</i> said to his Wife: Woman, this Gentleman is -my intimate friend, and hath borne me company in all my travell: -such dyet therfore as thou wilt welcome him withall, I would have -it ordered (in dressing) according to his direction. <i>Melisso</i> perceiving -that <i>Giosefo</i> would needs have it to be so; in few words directed -her such a course, as (for ever) might be to her Husbands contentment. -But she, not altring a jote from her former disposition, -but rather farre more froward and tempestuous: delighted to vexe -and crosse him, doing every thing, quite contrary to the order appointed. -Which <i>Giosefo</i> observing, angerly he said unto her. Was -it not tolde you by my friend, in what manner he would have our -Supper drest? She turning fiercely to him, replyed. Am I to be directed -by him or thee? Supper must and shall bee drest as I will -have it: if it pleaseth mee, I care not who doth dislike it; if thou -wouldst have it otherwise, goe seeke both your Suppers where you -may have it.</p> - -<p><i>Melisso</i> marvelling at her froward answere, rebuked her for it in -very kind manner: whereupon, <i>Giosefo</i> spake thus to her. I perceive -wife, you are the same woman as you were wount to be: but -beleeve me on my word, I shal quite alter you from this curst complexion. -So turning to <i>Melisso</i>, thus he proceeded. Noble friend, -we shall try anone, whether the counsell of King <i>Salomon</i> bee effectuall, -or no; and I pray you, let it not be offensive to you to see it; -but rather hold all to be done in merriment. And because I would -not be hindered by you, doe but remember the answere which the -Muletter gave us, when we tooke compassion on his Mule. Worthy -friend, replyed <i>Melisso</i>, I am in your owne house, where I purpose -not to impeach whatsoever you doe.</p> - -<p><i>Giosefo</i>, having provided a good Holly-wand, went into the -Chamber, where his wife sate railing, and despitefully grumbling, -where taking her by the haire of her head, he threw her at his feete, -beating her entreamely with the wand. She crying, then cursing, -next railing, lastly fighting, biting and scratching, when she felt the -cruell smart of the blowes, and that all her resistance served to no -end: then she fell on her knees before him, and desired mercy for -charities sake. <i>Giosefo</i> fought still more and more on head, armes, -shoulders, sides, and all parts else, pretending as if he heard not her -complaints, but wearied himselfe wel neere out of breath: so that -(to be briefe) she that never felt his fingers before, perceived and -confessed, it was now too soone. This being done, hee returned to -<i>Melisso</i>, and said: To morrow we shall see a miracle, and how available -the councell is of going to the Goose Bridge. So sitting a -while together, after they had washed their hands, and supt, they -withdrew to their lodgings.</p> - -<p>The poore beaten woman, could hardly raise her selfe from the -ground, which yet (with much adoe) she did, and threw her selfe -upon the bed, where she tooke such rest as she could: but arising -early the next morning, she came to her Husband, and making him -a very low courtesie, demaunded what hee pleased to have for his -dinner; he smiling heartely thereat, with <i>Melisso</i>, tolde her his mind. -And when dinner time came, every thing was ready according to -the direction given: in which regard, they highly commended the -counsell, whereof they made such an harsh construction at the first.</p> - -<p>Within a while after, <i>Melisso</i> being gone from <i>Giosefo</i>, and returned -home to his owne house: hee acquainted a wise and reverend -man, with the answere which king <i>Salomon</i> gave him, whereto hee -received this reply. No better or truer advise could possibly be -given you, for well you know, that you love not any man; but the -bountifull banquets you bestow on them, is more in respect of your -owne vaine-glory, then any kind affection you beare to them: -Learne then to love men, as <i>Salomon</i> advised, and you shall be beloved -of them againe. Thus our unruly Wife became mildely reclaimed, -and the young Gentleman, by loving others, found the -fruits of reciprocall affection.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="John_de_Barolo_at_the_instance_and_request_of_his_Gossip_Pietro_da" id="John_de_Barolo_at_the_instance_and_request_of_his_Gossip_Pietro_da">John de Barolo, <i>at the instance and request of his Gossip</i> Pietro da -Trefanti, <i>made an enchantment, to have his wife become a Mule. -And when it came to the fastening on of the taile; Gossip</i> Pietro -<i>by saying she should have no taile at all, spoyled the whole enchantment.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Tenth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>In just reproofe of such foolish men, as will be governed by over-light -beleefe.</i></h4> - - -<p>This Novell reported by the Queene, caused a little murmuring -among the Ladies, albeit the men laughed heartely -thereat: but after they were all growne silent, <i>Dioneus</i> -began in this manner. Gracious Beauties, among many white -Doves, one blacke Crow will seeme more sightly, then the very -whitest Swanne can doe. In like manner, among a multitude of -wise men, sometimes one of much lesse wisedome and discretion, -shall not onely increase the splendour and Majestie of their maturity, -but also give an addition of delight and solace.</p> - -<p>In which regard, you all being modest and discreet Ladies, and -my selfe more much defective in braine, then otherwise able: in -making your vertues shine gloriously, through the evident apparance -of mine owne weakenesse, you should esteeme the better of -mee, by how much I seeme the more cloudy and obscure. And -consequently, I ought to have the larger scope of liberty, by plainely -expressing what I am, and be the more patiently endured by -you all, in saying what absurdly I shall; then I should be if my speeches -favoured of absolute wisdome. I will therfore tell you a Tale, -which shall not be of any great length, whereby you may comprehend, -how carefully such things should be observed, which are -commanded by them, as can effect matters by the power of enchantment, -and how little delayance also ought to be in such, as -would not have an enchantment so be hindered.</p> - -<p>About a yeare already past since, there dwelt at <i>Barletta</i>, an honest -man, called <i>John de Barolo</i>, who because he was of poore condition; -for maintenance in his contented estate, provided himselfe of -a Mule, to carry commodities from place to place, where Faires and -Markets were in request, but most especially to <i>Apuglia</i>, buying -and selling in the nature of a petty Chapman. Travelling thus thorow -the Countreyes, he grew into great and familiar acquaintance, -with one who named himselfe <i>Pietro da Trefanti</i>, following the -same Trade of life as he did, carrying his commodities upon an -Asse. In signe of amitie, according to the Countreyes custome, he -never tearmed him otherwise, then by the name of Gossip <i>Pietro</i> -and alwayes when he came to <i>Barletta</i>, he brought him to his own -house, taking it as his Inne, entreating him very friendly, and in the -best manner he could devise to doe. On the other side, Gossip <i>Pietro</i> -being very poore, having but one simple habitation in the village -of <i>Trefanti</i>, hardly sufficient for him, and an handsome young -woman which he had to his wife, as also his Asse: evermore when -<i>John de Barolo</i> came to <i>Trefanti</i>, he would bring him to his poore -abiding, with all his uttermost abilitie of entertainement, in due -acknowledgement of the courtesie he afforded to him at <i>Barletta</i>. -But when he came to take repose in the night-season, Gossip <i>Pietro</i> -could not lodge him as gladly he would: because he had but one -silly bed, wherein himselfe and his wife lay; so that <i>John de Barolo</i> -was faigne to lie on a little straw, in a small stable, close adjoyning -by his owne Mule and the Asse.</p> - -<p>The woman understanding, what good and honest welcome, -Gossip <i>John</i> afforded her husband, when he came to <i>Barletta</i>, was -often very willing to goe lodge with an honest neighbour of hers, -called <i>Carapresa di Giudice Leo</i>, because the two Gossips might both -lie together in one bed; wherewith divers times she acquainted her -Husband, but by no meanes he would admit it.</p> - -<p>At one time among the rest, as she was making the same motion -againe to her Husband, that his friend might be lodged in better -manner: Gossip <i>John</i> thus spake to her. Good <i>Zita Carapresa</i>, -never molest your selfe for me, because I lodge to mine owne contentment, -and so much the rather, in regard that whensoever I list: -I can convert my Mule into a faire young woman, to give mee -much delight in the night-season, and afterward make her a Mule -againe: thus am I never without her company.</p> - -<p>The young woman wondring at these words, and beleeving he -did not fable in them: she told them to her Husband, with this addition -beside, <i>Pietro</i> (quoth she) if he be such a deare friend to thee, -as thou hast often avouched to me; with him to instruct thee in so -rare a cunning, that thou maist make a Mule of me; then shalt thou -have both an Asse and a Mule to travell withall about thy businesse, -whereby thy benefit will be double: and when we returne home to -our house; then thou maist make mee thy wife againe, in the same -condition as I was before. Gossip <i>Pietro</i>, who was (indeed) but -a very Coxecombe; beleeved also the words to be true, yeelding -therefore the more gladly to her advise; and moving the matter to -his Gossip <i>John</i>, to teach him such a wonderfull secret, which would -redound so greatly to his benefit: but <i>John</i> began to disswade him -from it, as having spoken it in merriment, yet perceiving, that no -contradiction would serve to prevaile, thus he began.</p> - -<p>Seeing you will needs have it so, let us rise to morrow morning -before day, as in our travell we use to doe, and then I will shew you -how it is to be done: onely I must and doe confesse, that the most -difficult thing of all the rest, is, to fasten on the taile, as thou shalt -see.</p> - -<p>Gossip <i>Pietro</i> and his wife, could hardly take any rest all the -night long, so desirous they were to have the deed done; and therefore -when it drew towards day, up they arose, and calling Gossip -<i>John</i>, he came presently to them in his shirt, & being in the Chamber -with them, he said. I know not any man in the world, to whom -I would disclose this secret, but to you, and therefore because you -so earnestly desire it, I am the more willing to doe it. Onely you -must consent, to doe whatsoever I say, if you are desirous to have it -done. Faithfully they promised to performe all, whereupon <i>John</i> -delivering a lighted Candle to Gossip <i>Pietro</i>, to hold in his hand, -said. Marke well what I doe, and remember all the words I say: but -be very carefull, that whatsoever thou hearest or seest, thou doe -not speake one word, for then the enchantment will be utterly overthrowne, -onely wish that the taile may be well set on, for therein -consisteth all the cunning.</p> - -<p>Gossip <i>Pietro</i> holding the Candle, and the woman being prepared as -<i>John</i> had appointed her, she bowed her selfe forwardes with -her hands set to the ground, even as if she stood upon foure feete. -First with his hands he touched her head and face, saying, Heere is -the goodly head of a Mule: then handling her disheveld haire, termed -them the goodly mane of a Mule. Afterwardes, touching the -body, armes, legs, and feete, gave them all the apt names (for those -parts) belonging to a Mule, nothing else remaining, but onely the -forming of the taile, which when <i>Pietro</i> perceived, how <i>John</i> was -preparing to fasten it on (having no way misliked all his former -proceeding) he called to him, saying: Forbeare Gossippe <i>John</i>, my -Mule shal have no taile at all, I am contented to have her without a -taile. How now Gossip <i>Pietro</i>? answered <i>John</i>, What hast thou -done? Thou hast mard all by this unadvised speaking, even when -the worke was almost fully finished. It is no matter Gossip (answered -<i>Pietro</i>) I can like my Mule better without a taile, then to see it -set on in such manner.</p> - -<p>The fond young woman, more covetously addicted to gayne and -commodity, then looking into the knavish intention of her Gossip -<i>John</i>; began to grow greatly offended. Beast as thou art (quoth she -to her Husband) why hast thou overthrowne both thine own good -Fortune and mine? Diddest thou ever see a Mule without a taile? -Wouldst thou have had him made me a monster? Thou art wretchedly -poore, and when we might have bin enriched for ever, by a -secret knowne to none but our selves, thou art the Asse that hast defeated -all, and made thy friend to become thine enemy. Gossippe -<i>John</i> began to pacifie the woman, with solemne protestations of his -still continuing friendship, albeit (afterwards) there was no further -desiring of any more Mule-making: but Gossip <i>Pietro</i> fel to his former -Trading onely with his Asse, as he was no lesse himselfe, and -hee went no more with Gossip <i>John</i> to the Faires in <i>Apuglia</i>, neyther -did he ever request, to have the like peece of service done for -him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Although there was much laughing at this Novell, the Ladies -understanding it better, then <i>Dioneus</i> intended that -they should have done, yet himselfe scarsely smiled. But -the Novels being all ended, and the Sunne beginning to loose his -heate; the Queene also knowing, that the full period of her government -was come: dispossessing her selfe of the Crowne, shee placed -it on the head of <i>Pamphilus</i>, who was the last of all to be honoured -with this dignity; wherefore (with a gracious smile) thus she spake -to him.</p> - -<p>Sir, it is no meane charge which you are to undergo, in making -amends (perhaps) for all the faults committed by my selfe and the -rest, who have gone before you in the same authority; and, may it -prove as prosperous unto you, as I was willing to create you our -King. <i>Pamphilus</i> having received the honour with a chearfull mind, -thus answered. Madam, your sacred vertues, and those (beside) remaining -in my other Subjects, will (no doubt) worke so effectually -for me, that (as the rest have done) I shall deserve your generall -good opinion. And having given order to the Master of the Houshold -(as all his predecessors had formerly done, for every necessary -occasion) he turned to the Ladies, who expected his gracious favour, -and said.</p> - -<p>Bright Beauties, it was the discretion of your late Soveraigne & -Queene, in regard of ease and recreation unto your tyred spirits, to -grant you free liberty, for discoursing on whatsoever your selves -best pleased: wherefore, having enjoyed such a time of rest, I am of -opinion, that it is best to returne once more to our wonted Law, in -which respect, I would have every one to speake in this manner to -morrow. Namely, of those men or women, who have done any -thing bountifully or magnificently, either in matter of amity, or otherwise. -The relation of such worthy arguments, will (doubtlesse) -give an addition to our very best desires, for a free and forward inclination -to good actions, whereby our lives (how short soever they -bee) may perpetuate an ever-living renowne and fame, after our -mortall bodies are converted into dust, which (otherwise) are no -better then those of bruite beasts, reason onely distinguishing this -difference, that as they live to perish utterly, so we respire to reigne -in eternity.</p> - -<p>The Theame was exceedingly pleasing to the whole Company; -who being all risen, by permission of the new King, every one fel to -their wonted recreations, as best agreed with their owne disposition; -untill the houre for Supper came, wherein they were served -very sumptuously. But being risen from the Table, they began their -dances, among which, many sweet Sonnets were enterlaced, with -such delicate Tunes as moved admiration. Then the King commanded -Madam <i>Neiphila</i>, to sing a song in his name, or how her selfe -stood best affected. And immediately with a cleare and rare voice, -thus she began.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>THE SONG.</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Chorus sung by all the Companie.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">In the Spring season,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Maides have best reason,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">To dance and sing;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With Chaplets of Flowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To decke up their Bowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">And all in honour of the Spring.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">I heard a Nimph that sate alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">By a Fountaines side:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Much her hard Fortune to bemone,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">For still she cride:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah! Who will pitty her distresse,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That findes no foe like ficklenesse?<br /></span> -<span class="i6">For truth lives not in men:<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Poore soule, why live I then?<br /></span> -<span class="i10">In the Spring season, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Oh, How can mighty Love permit,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Such a faithlesse deed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And not in justice punish it<br /></span> -<span class="i10">As treasons meed?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am undone through perjury,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Although I loved constantly:<br /></span> -<span class="i6">But truth lives not in men,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Poore soule, why live I then?<br /></span> -<span class="i9">In the Spring season,&c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">When I did follow Dyans traine,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">As a loyall Maide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I never felt oppressing paine,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Nor was dismaide.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when I listened Loves alluring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then I wandred from assuring.<br /></span> -<span class="i5">For truth lives not in men:<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Poore soule, why live I then?<br /></span> -<span class="i9">In the Spring season, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Adiew to all my former joyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i9">When I lived at ease,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And welcome now those sad annoies<br /></span> -<span class="i9">Which do most displease.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And let none pitty her distresse,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That fell not, but by ficklenesse.<br /></span> -<span class="i5">For truth lives not in men,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Alas! why live I then?<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">In the Spring season,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Maides have best reason,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">To dance and sing;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With Chaplets of Flowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To decke up their Bowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">And all in honour of the Spring.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>This Song, most sweetly sung by Madame <i>Neiphila</i>, was especially -commended, both by the King, & all the rest of the Ladies. Which -being fully finished, the King gave order, that everie one should repaire -to their Chambers, because a great part of the night was already -spent.</p> - -<h4><i>The end of the Ninth Day.</i></h4> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="The_Tenth_and_last_Day" id="The_Tenth_and_last_Day">The -Tenth and last Day.</a></h2> - -<h4><i>Whereon, under the government of Pamphilus, -the severall Arguments do concerne such persons, -as either by way of Liberality, or in Magnificent -manner, performed any worthy action, -for love, favour, friendship, or any other honourable -occasion.</i></h4> - - -<h4>The Induction.</h4> - - -<p>Already began certaine small -Clouds in the West, to blush -with a Vermillion tincture, -when those in the East (having -reached to their full heighth) -looked like bright burnished -Gold, by splendour of the Sun -beames drawing neere unto -them: when <i>Pamphilus</i> being risen, caused the Ladies, -and the rest of his honourable companions to be called. -When they were all assembled, and had concluded -together on the place, whither they should walke -for their mornings recreation: the King ledde on the -way before, accompanied with the two Noble Ladies -<i>Philomena</i> and <i>Fiammetta</i>, all the rest following after -them, devising, talking, and answering to divers demands -both what that day was to be don, as also concerning -the proposed imposition.</p> - -<p>After they had walked an indifferent space of time, -and found the rayes of the Sunne to be over-piercing -for them: they returned backe againe to the Pallace, -as fearing to have their blood immoderately heated. -Then rinsing their Glasses in the coole cleare running -current, each tooke their mornings draught, & -then walked into the milde shades about the Garden, -untill they should bee summoned to dinner. Which -was no sooner over-past, and such as slept, returned -waking: they mette together againe in their wonted -place, according as the King had appointed, where -he gave command unto Madame <i>Neiphila</i>, that shee -should (for that day) begin the first Novell, which she -humbly accepting, thus began.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="A_Florentine_knight_named_Signior_Rogiero_de_Figiovanni_became" id="A_Florentine_knight_named_Signior_Rogiero_de_Figiovanni_became"><i>A Florentine knight, named Signior</i> Rogiero de Figiovanni, <i>became -a servant to</i> Alphonso, <i>King of</i> Spaine, <i>who (in his owne opinion) -seemed but sleightly to respect and reward him. In regard whereof, -by a notable experiment, the King gave him a manifest testimony, -that it was not through any defect in him, but onely occasioned by -the Knights ill fortune; most bountifully recompensing him afterward.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The First Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein may evidently be discerned, that Servants to Princes and great -Lords, are many times recompenced, rather by their good fortune, -then in any regard of their dutifull services.</i></h4> - - -<p>I doe accept it (Worthy Ladies) as no mean -favour, that the King hath given me the first -place, to speake of such an honourable Argument, -as Bounty and Magnificence is, -which precious Jewell, even as the Sunne -is the beauty, or ornament and bright glory -of al heaven; so is bounty and magnificence -the Crowne of all vertues. I shall then recount -to you a short Novell, sufficiently pleasing, in mine owne opinion, -and I hope (so much I dare rely on your judgements) both -profitable, and worthy to be remembred.</p> - -<p>You are to know then, that among other valiant Knights, which -of long have lived in our City, one of them, and (perhappes) of as -great merit as any, was one, named Signior <i>Rogiero d'Figiovanni</i>. -He being rich, of great courage, and perceiving, that (in due consideration) -the quality belonging to life, and the customes observed -among our <i>Tuscanes</i>, were not answerable to his expectation, nor -agreed with the disposition of his valour; determined to leave his -native Countrey, and belong in service (for some time) to <i>Alfonso</i>, -King of <i>Spaine</i>, whose fame was generally noised in all places, for -excelling all other Princes in those times, for respect of mens well -deservings, and bountifull requitall of their paines. Being provided -in honourable order, both of Horses, Armes, & a competent train, he -travelled to <i>Spaine</i>, where he was worthily entertained.</p> - -<p>Signior <i>Rogiero</i> continuing there, living in honourable manner, and -performing many admirable actions of arms; in short time he made -himselfe sufficiently knowne, for a very valiant and famous man. -And having remained there an indifferent long while, observing divers -behaviours in the king: he saw, how he enclined himselfe first to -one man, then to another, bestowing on one a Castle, a Towne on -another, and Baronnies on divers, som-what indiscreetly, as giving -away bountifully to men of no merit. And restraining all his favours -from him, as seeming close fisted, and parting with nothing: he took -it as a diminishing of his former reputation, and a great empayring -of his fame, wherefore he resolved on his departure thence, & made -his suit to the king that he might obtaine it. The king did grant it, bestowing -on him one of the very best Mules, and the goodliest that -ever was backt, a gift most highly pleasing to <i>Rogiero</i>, in regarde of -the long journey he intended to ride. Which being deliverd, the king -gave charge to one of his Gentlemen, to compasse such convenient -meanes, as to ride thorow the country, and in the company of Signior -<i>Rogiero</i>, yet in such manner, as he should not perceive, that the -King had purposely sent him so to do. Respectively he should observe -whatsoever he said concerning the king, his gesture, smiles, and -other behaviour, shaping his answers accordingly, and on the nexte -morning to command his returne backe with him to the King.</p> - -<p>Nor was the Gentleman slacke in this command, but noting <i>Rogieroes</i> -departing forth of the city, he mounted on horseback likewise, -and immediately after came into his company, making him beleeve, -that he journeyed towards <i>Italy. Rogiero</i> rode on the Mule which the -king had given him, with diversity of speeches passing between them. -About three of the clocke in the afternoone, the Gentleman said. It -were not amisse Sir, (having such fit opportunitie) to Stable our -horses for a while, till the heate be a little more overpast. So taking -an Inne, and the horses being in the stable, they all staled except -the Mule.</p> - -<p>Being mounted againe, and riding on further, the Gentleman -duely observed whatsoever <i>Rogiero</i> spake, and comming to the passage -of a small River or Brooke: the rest of the beasts dranke, and -not the Mule, but staled in the River: which Signior <i>Rogiero</i> seeing, -clapping his hands on the Mules mane, hee said. What a wicked -beast art thou? thou art just like thy Master that gave thee to mee. -The Gentleman committed the words to memory, as he did many -other passing from <i>Rogiero</i>, riding along the rest of the day, yet none -in disparagement of the King, but rather highly in his commendation. -And being the next morning mounted on horseback, seeming -to hold on still the way for <i>Tuscane</i>: the Gentleman fulfilled the -Kings command, causing Signior <i>Rogiero</i> to turne back againe with -him, which willingly he yeelded to doe.</p> - -<p>When they were come to the Court, and the King made acquainted -with the words, which <i>Rogiero</i> spake to his Mule; he was -called into the presence, where the King shewed him a gracious -countenance, & demanded of him, why he had compared him to his -Mule? Signior <i>Rogiero</i> nothing daunted, but with a bold and constant -spirit, thus answered. Sir, I made the comparison, because, like -as you give, where there is no conveniency, and bestow nothing -where reason requireth: even so, the Mule would not stale where -she should have done, but where was water too much before, there -she did it. Beleeve me Signior <i>Rogiero</i>, replyed the King, if I have -not given you such gifts, as (perhaps) I have done to divers other, -farre inferiour to you in honour and merit; this happened not thorough -any ignorance in me, as not knowing you to be a most valiant -Knight, and well-worthy of speciall respect: but rather through -your owne ill fortune, which would not suffer me to doe it, whereof -she is guilty, and not I, as the truth thereof shall make it selfe apparent -to you. Sir, answered <i>Rogiero</i>, I complaine not, because I -have received no gift from you, as desiring thereby covetously to -become the richer: but in regard you have not as yet any way acknowledged, -what vertue is remaining in me. Neverthelesse, I allow -your excuse for good and reasonable, and am heartely contented, -to behold whatsoever you please; although I doe confidently -credit you, without any other testimony.</p> - -<p>The King conducted him then into the great Hall, where (as hee -had before given order) stood two great Chests, fast lockt; & in the -presence of all his Lords, the King thus spake. Signior <i>Rogiero</i>, in -out of these Chests is mine imperiall Crowne, the Scepter Royall, -the Mound, & many more of my richest girdles, rings, plate, & Jewels, -even the very best that are mine: the other is full of earth onely. -Chuse one of these two, and which thou makest election of; upon -my Royall word thou shalt enjoy it. Hereby shalt thou evidently -perceive, who hath bin ingreatful to the deservings, either I, or thine -owne bad fortune. <i>Rogiero</i> seeing it was the kings pleasure to have -it so; chose one of them, which the King caused presently to be opened, -it approving to be the same that was full of earth, whereat -the King smyling, said thus unto him.</p> - -<p>You see Signior <i>Rogiero</i>, that what I said concerning your ill fortune, -is very true: but questionlesse, your valour is of such desert, -as I ought to oppose my selfe against all her malevolence. And because -I know right, that you are not minded to become a Spaniard; -I will give you neither Castle nor dwelling place: but I will bestow -the Chest on you (in meer despight of your malicious fortune) -which she so unjustly tooke away from you. Carry it home with -you into your Countrey, that there it may make an apparant testimoney, -in the sight of all your well-willers, both of your owne vertuous -deservings, and my bounty. Signior <i>Rogiero</i> humbly receiving -the Chest, and thanking his Majestie for so liberall a gift, returned -home joyfullly therewith, into his native Countrey of <i>Tuscane</i>.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Ghinotto_di_Tacco_tooke_the_Lord_Abbot_of_Clugni_as_his_prisoner" id="Ghinotto_di_Tacco_tooke_the_Lord_Abbot_of_Clugni_as_his_prisoner">Ghinotto di Tacco; <i>tooke the Lord Abbot of</i> Clugni <i>as his prisoner, -and cured him of a grievous disease, which he had in his stomacke, -and afterward set him at liberty. The same Lord Abbot, when hee -returned from the Court of Rome, reconciled</i> Ghinotto <i>to Pope</i> Boniface; -<i>who made him a Knight, and Lord Prior of a goodly Hospitall.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The second Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is declared that good men doe sometimes fall into bad conditions, -onely occasioned thereto by necessity: And what meanes are to -be used, for their reducing to goodnesse againe.</i></h4> - - -<p>The magnificence and Royall bounty, which King <i>Alphonso</i> -bestowed on the Florentine knight, passed through the -whole assembly with no mean applause; & the King (who -gave it the greatest praise of al) commanded Madame <i>Eliza</i>, to take -the second turne in order; whereupon, thus she began.</p> - -<p>Faire Ladies, if a king shewed himselfe magnificently minded, -and expressed his liberall bounty to such a man, as had done him -good and honourable services: it can be termed no more then a -vertuous deed well done, and becomming a King. But what will we -say, when we heare that a Prelate of the Church, shewed himselfe -wondrously magnificent, and to such a one as was his enemy: can -any malicious tongue speake ill of him? Undoubtedly, no other -answere is to be made, but the action of the King was meerely vertue, -and that of the Prelate, no lesse then a miracle: for how can it -be otherwise, when they are more greedily covetous then women, -and deadly enemies to all liberality? And although every man -(naturally) desireth revenge for injuries and abuses done unto -him: yet men of the Church, in regard that dayly they preached -patience, and commaund (above all things else) remission of -sinnes: it would appeare a mighty blemish in them, to be more froward -and furious then other men. But I am to speake of a reverend -Prelate of the Church, as also concerning his munificent -bounty, to one that was his enemy, and yet became his reconciled -friend, as you shall perceive by my Novell.</p> - -<p><i>Ghinotto di Tacco</i>, for his insolent and stout robberies, became a -man very farre famed, who being banished from <i>Sienna</i>, and an enemy -to the Countes <i>Disanta Fiore</i>: prevailed so by his bold and -headstrong perswasions, that the Towne of <i>Raticonfani</i> rebelled against -the Church of Rome, wherein he remaining; all passengers -whatsoever, travelling any way thereabout, were robde and rifled -by his theeving Companions. At the time whereof now I speake, -<i>Boniface</i> the eight, governed as Pope at Rome, and the Lord Abbot -of <i>Clugni</i> (accounted to be one of the richest Prelates in the world) -came to Rome, and there either by some surfeit, excesse of feeding, -or otherwise, his stomacke being grievously offended and pained; -the Phisitians advised him, to travell to the Bathes at <i>Sienna</i>, where -he should receive immediate cure. In which respect, his departure -being licenced by the Pope, to set onward thither, with great -and pompous Carriages, of Horses, Mules, and a goodly traine, without -hearing any rumour of the theevish Consorts.</p> - -<p><i>Ghinotto di Tacco</i>, being advertised of his comming, spred about -his scouts and nettes, and without missing so much as one Page, shut -up the Abbot, with all his traine and baggage, in a place of narrow -restraint, out of which he could by no meanes escape. When this -was done, he sent one of his most sufficient attendants, (well accompanyed) -to the Lord Abbot, who said to him in his Masters -name, that if his Lordship were so pleased, hee might come and visite -<i>Ghinotto</i> at his Castle. Which the Abbot hearing, answered -chollerickly, that he would not come thither, because hee had nothing -to say to <i>Ghinotto</i>: but meant to proceed on in his journey, and -would faine see, who durst presume to hinder his passe. To which -rough words, the messenger thus mildely answered. My Lord -(quoth he) you are arrived in such a place, where we feare no other -force, but the all-controlling power of heaven, clearely exempted -from the Popes thunder-cracks, of maledictions, interdictions, excommunications, -or whatsoever else: and therefore it would bee -much better for you, if you pleased to do as <i>Ghinotto</i> adviseth you.</p> - -<p>During the time of this their interparlance, the place was suddenly -round ingirt with strongly armed theeves, and the Lord Abbot -perceiving, that both he and all his followers were surprized: tooke -his way (though very impatiently) towards the Castle, and likewise -all his company and carriages with him. Being dismounted, hee -was conducted (as <i>Ghinotto</i> had appointed) all alone, into a small -Chamber of the Castle, it being very darke and uneasie: but the -rest of his traine, every one according to his ranck and quality, were -all well lodged in the Castle, their horses, goods and all things else, -delivered into secure keeping, without the least touch of injury or -prejudice. All which being orderly done, <i>Ghinotto</i> himselfe went -to the Lord Abbot, and said. My Lord, <i>Ghinotto</i>, to whom you -are a welcome guest, requesteth, that it might be your pleasure to -tell him, whither you are travelling, and upon what occasion?</p> - -<p>The Lord Abbot being a very wise man, and his angry distemper -more moderately qualified; revealed whither he went, and the -cause of his going thither. Which when <i>Ghinotto</i> had heard, hee -departed courteously from him, and began to consider with himselfe, -how he might cure the Abbot; yet without any Bathe. So, -commanding a good fire to be kept continually in his small Chamber, -and very good attendance on him: the next morning, he came -to visite him againe, bringing a faire white Napkin on his arme, and -in it two slices or toasts of fine Manchet, a goodly cleare Glasse, full -of the purest white-Bastard of <i>Corniglia</i> (but indeed, of the Abbots -owne provision brought thither with him) and then hee spoke to -him in this manner.</p> - -<p>My Lord, when <i>Ghinotto</i> was younger then now he is, he studyed -Physicke, and he commanded me to tell you, that the very best medicine, -he could ever learne, against any disease in the stomacke, was -this which he had provided for your Lordship, as an especiall preparative, -and which he should finde to be very comfortable. The Abbot, -who had a better stomacke to eate, then any will or desire to -talke: although hee did it somewhat disdainfully, yet hee eate up -both the toastes, and roundly dranke off the Glasse of Bastard. -Afterward, divers other speeches passed betweene them, the one -still advising in Phisicall manner, and the other seeming to care little -for it: but moved many questions concerning <i>Ghinotto</i>, and earnestly -requesting to see him. Such speeches as favoured of the Abbots -discontentment, and came from him in passion; were clouded -with courteous acceptance, & not the least signe of any mislike: but -assuring his Lordship, that <i>Ghinotto</i> intended very shortly to see him, -and so they parted for that time.</p> - -<p>Nor returned he any more, till the next morning with the like -two toastes of bread, and such another Glasse of white Bastard, as -he had brought him at the first, continuing the same course for divers -dayes after: till the Abbot had eaten (and very hungerly too) -a pretty store of dryed Beanes, which <i>Ghinotto</i> purposely, (yet secretly) -had hidden in the Chamber. Whereupon he demaunded -of him (as seeming to be so enjoyned by his pretended master) in -what temper he found his stomacke now? I should finde my stomacke -well enough (answered the Lord Abbot) if I could get forth -of thy masters fingers, and then have some good food to feed on: -for his medicines have made me so soundly stomackt, that I am ready -to starve with hunger.</p> - -<p>When <i>Ghinotto</i> was gone from him, hee then prepared a very -faire Chamber for him, adorning it with the Abbots owne rich -hangings, as also his Plate and other moveables, such as were alwayes -used for his service. A costly dinner he provided likewise, -whereto he invited divers of the Towne, and many of the Abbots -chiefest followers: then going to him againe the next morning, he -said. My Lord, seeing you doe feele your stomacke so well, it is -time you should come forth of the Infirmary. And taking him by -the hand, he brought him into the prepared Chamber, where he left -him with his owne people, and went to give order for the dinners -serving in, that it might be performed in magnificent manner.</p> - -<p>The Lord Abbot recreated himselfe a while with his owne -people, to whom he recounted, the course of his life since hee saw -them; and they likewise told him, how kindly they had bin initeated -by <i>Ghinotto</i>. But when dinner time was come, the Lord Abbot -and all his company, were served with Costly viands and excellent -Wines, without <i>Ghinottoes</i> making himselfe knowne to the Abbot: -till after he had beene entertained some few dayes in this order: -into the great Hall of the Castle, <i>Ghinotto</i> caused all the Abbots -goods and furniture to bee brought, and likewise into a spacious -Court, whereon the windowes of the said Court gazed, all his mules -and horses, with their sumpters, even to the very silliest of them, -which being done, <i>Ghinotto</i> went to the Abbot, and demaunded of -him, how he felt his stomacke now, and whether it would serve him -to venter on horsebacke as yet, or no? The Lord Abbot answered, -that he found his stomacke perfectly recovered, his body strong enough -to endure travell, and all things well, so hee were delivered -from <i>Ghinotto</i>.</p> - -<p>Hereupon, he brought him into the hall where his furniture was, -as also all his people, & commanding a window to be opned, whereat -he might behold his horses, he said. My Lord, let me plainely -give you to understand, that neither cowardise, or basenesse of -minde, induced <i>Ghinotto di Tacco</i> (which is my selfe) to become a -lurking robber on the high-wayes, an enemy to the Pope, and so -(consequently) to the Romane Court: but onely to save his owne -life and honour, knowing himselfe to be a Gentleman cast out of -his owne house, and having (beside) infinite enemies. But because -you seeme to be a worthy Lord, I will not (although I have cured -your stomacks disease) deale with you as I doe to others, whose -goods (when they fall into my power) I take such part of as I please: -but rather am well contented, that my necessities being considered -by your selfe, you spare me out a proportion of the things you have -heere, answerable to your owne liking. For all are present here before -you, both in this Hall, and in the Court beneath, free from any -spoyle, or the least impairing. Wherefore, give a part, or take -all, if you please, and then depart hence when you will, or abide -heere still, for now you are at your owne free liberty.</p> - -<p>The Lord Abbot wondred not a little, that a robber on the high -wayes, should have such a bold and liberall spirit, which appeared -very pleasing to him; and instantly, his former hatred and spleene against -<i>Ghinotto</i>, became converted into cordiall love and kindnes, -so that (imbracing him in his armes) he said. I protest upon my vow -made to Religion, that to win the love of such a man, as I plainely -perceive thee to be: I would undergo far greater injuries, then those -which I have received at thy hands. Accursed be cruell destiny, that -forced thee to so base a kind of life, and did not blesse thee with -a fairer fortune. After he had thus spoken, he left there the greater -part of all his goods, and returned back againe to Rome, with fewer -horses, and a meaner traine.</p> - -<p>During these passed accidents, the Pope had received intelligence -of the Lord Abbots surprizall, which was not a little displeasing to -him: but when he saw him returned, he demaunded, what benefit -he received at the Bathes? Whereto the Abbot, merrily smyling, -thus replyed. Holy Father, I met with a most skilfull Physitian neerer -hand, whose experience is beyond the power of the Bathes, for -by him I am very perfectly cured: and so discoursed all at large. -The Pope laughing heartely, and the Abbot continuing on still his -report, moved with an high and magnificent courage, he demaunded -one gracious favour of the Pope: who imagining that he would -request a matter of greater moment, then he did, freely offered to -grant, whatsoever he desired.</p> - -<p>Holy Father, answered the Lord Abbot, all the humble suit which -I make to you, is, that you would be pleased to receive into your -grace and favor, <i>Ghinotto di Tacco</i> my Physitian, because among all -the vertuous men, deserving to have especiall account made of them -I never met with any equall to him both in honour and honesty. -Whatsoever injury he did to me, I impute it as a greater in-fortune, -then any way he deserveth to be charged withall. Which wretched -condition of his, if you were pleased to alter, and bestow on -him some better meanes of maintenance, to live like a worthy man, -as he is no lesse: I make no doubt, but (in very short time) hee will -appeare as pleasing to your holinesse, as (in my best judgement) I -thinke him to be.</p> - -<p>The Pope, who was of a magnanimious spirit, and one that highly -affected men of vertue, hearing the commendable motion made -by the Abbot; returned answere, that he was as willing to grant it, -as the other desired it, sending Letters of safe conduct for his comming -thither. <i>Ghinotto</i> receiving such assurance from the Court -of Rome, came thither immediately, to the great joy of the Lord -Abbot: and the Pope finding him to be a man of valor and worth, -upon reconciliation, remitted all former errors, creating him knight, -and Lord Prior of the very chiefest Hospitall in Rome. In which -Office he lived long time after, as a loyall servant to the Church, -and an honest thankefull friend to the Lord Abbot of <i>Clugny</i>.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Mithridanes_envying_the_life_and_liberality_of_Nathan_and_travelling" id="Mithridanes_envying_the_life_and_liberality_of_Nathan_and_travelling">Mithridanes <i>envying the life and liberality of</i> Nathan, <i>and travelling -thither, with a setled resolution to kill him: chaunceth to conferre -with</i> Nathan <i>unknowne. And being instructed by him, in what -manner he might best performe the bloody deede, according as hee -gave direction, hee meeteth with him in a small Thicket or Woode, -where knowing him to be the same man, that taught him how to -take away his life: Confounded with shame, hee acknowledgeth his -horrible intention, and becommeth his loyall friend.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The third Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Shewing in an excellent and lively demonstration, that any especiall -honourable vertue, persevering and dwelling in a truly noble soule, -cannot be violenced or confounded, by the most politicke attemptes -of malice and envy.</i></h4> - - -<p>It appeared to the whole assembly, that they had heard a -matter of mervaile, for a Lord Abbot to performe any -magnificent action: but their admiration ceasing in silence, -the King commanded <i>Philostratus</i> to follow next, who forthwith -thus began.</p> - -<p>Honourable Ladies, the bounty and magnificence of <i>Alphonso</i> -King of <i>Spaine</i>, was great indeede, and that done by the Lord Abbot -of <i>Clugny</i>, a thing (perhaps) never heard of in any other. But -it will seeme no lesse mervailous to you, when you heare, how one -man, in expression of great liberality to another man, that earnestly -desired to kill him; should bee secretly disposed to give him his -life, which had bin lost, if the other would have taken it, as I purpose -to acquaint you withall, in a short Novell.</p> - -<p>Most certaine it is, at least, if Faith may bee given to the report of -certaine <i>Genewayes</i>, and other men resorting to those remote parts, -that in the Country of <i>Cathaya</i>, there lived somtime a Gentleman, -rich beyond comparison, and named <i>Nathan</i>. He having his living -adjoyning to a great common rode-way, whereby men travayled -from the East to the West (as they did the like from the West unto -the East, as having no other means of passage) and being of a bountifull -and chearfull disposition, which he was willing to make knowen -by experience: he summoned together many Master Masons -and Carpenters, and there erected (in a short time) one of the greatest, -goodliest, and most beautifull houses (in manner of a Princes -Pallace) that ever was seene in all those quarters.</p> - -<p>With movables and all kinde of furnishment, befitting a house -of such outward apparance, hee caused it to be plentifully stored, -onely to receive, entertaine, and honour all Gentlemen or other Travailers -whatsoever, as had occasion to passe that way, being not unprovided -also of such a number of servants, as might continuallie -give attendance on all commers and goers. Two and fifty severall -gates, standing al way wide open, & over each of them in great golden -charracters was written, <i>Welcome, welcome,</i> and gave free admission -to all commers whatsoever.</p> - -<p>In this honourable order (observed as his estated custom) he persevered -so long a while, as not onely the East parts, but also those -in the west, were every where acquainted with his fame & renown. -Being already well stept into yeares, but yet not wearie (therefore) -of his great charge and liberality: it fortuned, that the rumour of his -noble Hospitality, came to the eare of another gallant Gentleman, -named <i>Mithridanes</i>, living in a Countrey not farre off from the other.</p> - -<p>This Gentleman, knowing himself no lesse wealthy then <i>Nathan</i>, -and enviously repining at his vertue and liberality, determined in -his mind, to dim and obscure the others bright splendor, by making -himselfe farre more famous. And having built a Palace answerable -to that of <i>Nathans</i>, with like windings of gates, and welcome inscriptions; -he beganne to extend immeasurable courtesies, unto all such -as were disposed to visite him: so that (in a short while) hee grew -very famous in infinite places. It chanced on a day, as <i>Mithridanes</i> -sate all alone within the goodly Court of his Pallace: a poore -woman entred at one of the gates, craving an almes of him, which -she had; and returned in againe at a second gate, comming also to -him, and had a second almes; continuing so still a dozen times; but -at the thirteenth returning, <i>Mithridanes</i> saide to her: Good Woman, -you goe and come very often, and still you are served with -almes. When the old Woman heard these words, she said. O the -liberality of <i>Nathan</i>! How honourable and wonderfull is that? I -have past through two and thirty gates of his Palace, even such as -are here, and at every one I receyved an almes, without any knowledgement -taken of me, either by him, or any of his followers: and -heere I have past but through thirteene gates, and am there both acknowledged -and taken. Fare well to this house, for I never meane -to visit it any more; with which words shee departed thence, and -never after came thither againe.</p> - -<p>When <i>Mithridanes</i> had a while pondered on her speeches, hee -waxed much discontented, as taking the words of the olde woman, -to extoll the renowne of <i>Nathan</i>, and darken or ecclipse his glorie, -whereupon he said to himselfe. Wretched man as I am, when shall -I attaine to the height of liberality, and performe such wonders, as -<i>Nathan</i> doth? In seeking to surmount him, I cannot come neere -him in the very meanest. Undoubtedly, I spend all my endeavour -but in vaine, except I rid the world of him, which (seeing his age -will not make an end of him) I must needs do with my own hands. -In which furious and bloody determination (without revealing his -intent to any one) he mounted on horse-backe, with few attendants -in his company, and after three dayes journey, arrived where <i>Nathan</i> -dwelt. He gave order to his men, to make no shew of beeing -his servants, or any way to acknowledge him: but to provide them -selves of convenient lodgings, untill they heard other tydings from -him.</p> - -<p>About Evening, and (in this manner) alone by himselfe, neere to -the Palace of <i>Nathan</i>, he met him solitarily walking, not in pompous -apparrell, whereby to bee distinguished from a meaner man: -and, because he knew him not, neyther had heard any relation of -his description, he demanded of him, if he knew where <i>Nathan</i> then -was? <i>Nathan</i>, with a chearfull countenance, thus replyed. Faire -Syr, there is no man in these parts, that knoweth better how to -shew you <i>Nathan</i> then I do; and therefore, if you be so pleased, I -will bring you to him. <i>Mithridanes</i> said, therein he should do him -a great kindnesse: albeit (if it were possible) he would bee neyther -knowne nor seene of <i>Nathan</i>. And that (quoth he) can I also do sufficiently -for you, seeing it is your will to have it so, if you will goe along -with me.</p> - -<p>Dismounting from his horse, he walked on with <i>Nathan</i>, diversly -discoursing, untill they came to the Pallace, where one of the servants -taking <i>Mithridanes</i> his horse, <i>Nathan</i> rounded the fellow in -the eare, that he should give warning to all throughout the House, -for revealing to the Gentleman, that he was <i>Nathan</i>; as accordingly -it was performed. No sooner were they within the Pallace, but he -conducted <i>Mithridanes</i> into a goodly chamber, where none (as yet) -had seene him, but such as were appointed to attend on him reverently; -yea, and he did himselfe greatly honour him, as being loth to -leave his company.</p> - -<p>While thus <i>Mithridanes</i> conversed with him, he desired to know -(albeit he respected him much for his yeares) what he was. Introth -Sir, answered <i>Nathan</i>, I am one of the meanest servants to <i>Nathan</i>, -and from my child-hood, have made my selfe thus olde in his service: -yet never hath he bestowed any other advancement on mee, -then as you now see; in which respect, howsoever other men may -commend him, yet I have no reason at all to do it. These Words, -gave some hope to <i>Mithridanes</i>, that with a little more counsell, he -might securely put in execution his wicked determination. <i>Nathan</i> -likewise demaunded of him (but in very humble manner) of -whence, and what he was, as also the businesse inviting him thither: -offering him his utmost aide and counsell, in what soever consisted -in his power.</p> - -<p><i>Mithridanes</i> sat an indifferent while meditating with his thoughts -before he would returne any answer: but at the last, concluding to -repose confidence in him (in regard of his pretended discontentment) -with many circumstantiall perswasions, first for fidelity, next for constancie, -and lastly for counsell and assistance, he declared to him truly -what he was, the cause of his comming thither, and the reason urging -him thereto. <i>Nathan</i> hearing these words, and the detestable -deliberation of <i>Mithridanes</i>, became quite changed in himself: yet -wisely making no outward appearance thereof, with a bold courage -and setled countenance, thus he replyed.</p> - -<p><i>Mithridanes</i>, thy Father was a Noble Gentleman, and (in vertuous -qualities) inferiour to none, from whom (as now I see) thou -desirest not to degenerate, having undertaken so bold & high an enterprise, -I meane, in being liberall and bountifull to all men. I do -greatly commend the envy which thou bearest to the vertue of <i>Nathan</i>: -because if there were many more such men, the world that is -now wretched and miserable, would become good and conformable. -As for the determination which thou hast disclosed to mee, I -have sealed it up secretly in my soule: wherein I can better give thee -counsell, then any especiall helpe or furtherance: and the course -which I would have thee to observe, followeth thus in few words.</p> - -<p>This window, which we now looke forth at, sheweth thee a small -wood or thicket of trees, being little more then the quarter of a miles -distance hence; whereto <i>Nathan</i> usually walketh every morning, -and there continueth time long enough: there maist thou very easily -meet him, and do whatsoever thou intended to him. If thou kilst -him, because thou maist with safety returne home unto thine owne -abiding, take not the same way which guided thee thither, but another, -lying on the left hand, & directing speedily out of the wood, -as being not so much haunted as the other, but rather free from all -resort, and surest for visiting thine owne countrey, after such a dismall -deed is done.</p> - -<p>When <i>Mithridanes</i> had receyved this instruction, and <i>Nathan</i> -was departed from him, hee secretly gave intelligence to his men, -(who likewise were lodged, as welcome strangers, in the same house) -at what place they should stay for him the next morning. Night being -passed over, and <i>Nathan</i> risen, his heart altred not a jot from his -counsel given to <i>Mithridanes</i>, much lesse changed from anie part -thereof: but all alone by himselfe, walked on to the wood, the place -appointed for his death. <i>Mithridanes</i> also being risen, taking his -Bow & Sword (for other weapons had he none) mounted on hors-backe, -and so came to the wood, where (somewhat farre off) hee espyed -<i>Nathan</i> walking, and no creature with him. Dismounting -from his horse, he had resolved (before he would kill him) not onely -to see, but also to heare him speake: so stepping roughly to him, -and taking hold of the bonnet on his head, his face being then turned -from him, he sayde. Old man, thou must dye. Whereunto -<i>Nathan</i> made no other answer, but thus: Why then (belike) I have -deserved it.</p> - -<p>When <i>Mithridanes</i> heard him speake, and looked advisedly on -his face, he knew him immediately to be the same man, that had entertained -him so lovingly, conversed with him so familiarly, and -counselled him so faithfully: all which overcomming his former fury, -his harsh nature became meerly confounded with shame: So -throwing downe his drawne sword, which he held readily prepared -for the deede: he prostrated himselfe at <i>Nathans</i> feet, and in teares, -spake in this manner. Now do I manifestly know (most loving Father) -your admired bounty and liberalitie; considering, with what -industrious providence, you made the meanes for your comming -hither, prodigally to bestow your life on me, which I have no right -unto, although you were so willing to part with it. But those high -and supreame powers, more carefull of my dutie, then I my selfe: -even at the very instant, and when it was most needfull, opened the -eyes of my better understanding, which infernall envy had closed -up before. And therefore, looke how much you have bin forward -to pleasure me; so much the more shame and punishment, I confesse -my heinous transgression hath justly deserved: take therefore on -me (if you please) such revenge, as you thinke (in justice) answerable -to my sin.</p> - -<p><i>Nathan</i> lovingly raised <i>Mithridanes</i> from the ground, then kissing -his cheeke, and tenderly embracing him, he said. Sonne, thou -needed not to aske, much lesse to obtaine pardon, for any enterprise -of thine, which thou canst not yet terme to be good or bad: because -thou soughtest not to bereave me of my life, for any hatred thou -barest me, but onely in coveting to be reputed the Woorthier man. -Take then this assurance of me, and beleeve it constantly, that there -is no man living, whom I love and honour, as I do thee: considering -the greatnesse of thy minde, which consisteth not in the heaping -up of money, as wretched and miserable Worldlings make it -their onely felicity; but, contending in bounty to spend what is -thine, didst hold it for no shame to kil me, thereby to make thy selfe -so much the more worthily famous.</p> - -<p>Nor is it any matter to be wondred at, in regard that Emperors, -and the greatest Kings, hadde never made such extendure of their -Dominions, and consequently of their renowne, by any other Art, -then killing; yet not one man onely, as thou wouldst have done: but -infinite numbers, burning whole Countries, and making desolate -huge Townes and Cities, onely to enlarge their dominion, and further -spreading of their fame. Wherefore, if for the increasing of thine -owne renowne, thou wast desirous of my death: it is no matter of -novelty, and therefore deserving the lesse mervaile, seeing men are -slaine daily, and all for one purpose or other.</p> - -<p><i>Mithridanes</i>, excusing no further his malevolent deliberation, -but rather commending the honest defence, which <i>Nathan</i> made -on his behalfe; proceeded so farre in after discoursing, as to tel him -plainely, that it did wondrously amaze him, how he durst come to -the fatall appointed place, himselfe having so exactly plotted and -contrived his owne death: whereunto <i>Nathan</i> returned this aunswere.</p> - -<p>I would not have thee <i>Mithridanes</i>, to wonder at my counsel or -determination; because, since age hath made mee Maister of mine -owne will, and I resolved to doe that, wherein thou hast begun -to follow me: never came any man to mee, whom I did not content -(if I could) in any thing he demanded of mee. It was thy fortune -to come for my life, which when I saw thee so desirous to have -it, I resolved immediately to bestow it on thee: and so much the rather, -because thou shouldst not be the onely man, that ever departed -hence, without enjoying whatsoever hee demanded. And, to -the end thou mightst the more assuredly have it, I gave thee that -advice, least by not enjoying mine, thou shouldest chance to loose -thine owne. I have had the use of it full fourescore yeares, with the -consummation of all my delights and pleasures: and well I know, -that according to the course of Nature (as it fares with other men, -and generally all things else) it cannot bee long before it must leave -mee.</p> - -<p>Wherefore, I hold it much better for me to give it away freely, -as I have alwayes done my goods and treasure; then bee curious in -keeping it, and suffer it to be taken from me (whether I will or no) -by Nature. A small gift it is, if time make me up the full summe of -an hundred yeares: how miserable is it then, to stand beholding -but for foure or five, and all of them vexation too? Take it then I intreate -thee, if thou wilt have it; for I never met with any man before -(but thy selfe) that did desire it, nor (perhaps) shall finde any other -to request it: for the longer I keepe it, the worse it wil be esteemed: -and before it grow contemptible, take it I pray thee.</p> - -<p><i>Mithridanes</i>, being exceedingly confounded with shame, bashfully -sayde: Fortune fore-fend, that I should take away a thing so -precious as your life is, or once to have so vile a thought of it as lately -I had; but rather then I would diminish one day thereof, I could -wish, that my time might more amply enlarge it. Forthwith aunswered -<i>Nathan</i>, saying. Wouldst thou (if thou couldst) shorten -thine owne dayes, onely to lengthen mine? Why then thou wouldest -have me to do that to thee, which (as yet) I never did unto any -man, namely, robbe thee, to enrich my selfe. I will enstruct thee -in a much better course, if thou wilt be advised by mee. Lusty and -young, as now thou art, thou shalt dwell heere in my house, and be -called by the name of <i>Nathan</i>. Aged, and spent with yeares, as -thou seest I am, I will goe live in thy house, and bee called by the -name of <i>Mithridanes</i>. So, both the name and place shall illustrate -thy Glorie, and I live contentedly, without the very least thought -of envie.</p> - -<p>Deare Father, answered <i>Mithridanes</i>, if I knew so well howe to -direct mine owne actions, as you doe, and alwayes have done, I -would gladly accept your most liberall offer: but because I plainlie -perceive, that my very best endeavours, must remayne darkened -by the bright renowne of <i>Nathan</i>: I will never seeke to impayre -that in another, which I cannot (by any means) increase in my selfe, -but (as you have worthily taught me) live contented with my owne -condition.</p> - -<p>After these, and many more like loving speeches had passed between -them, according as <i>Nathan</i> very instantly requested, <i>Mithridanes</i> -returned back with him to the Pallace, where many dayes he -highly honoured & respected him, comforting & counselling him, to -persever alwayes in his honourable determination. But in the end, -when <i>Mithridanes</i> could abide there no longer, because necessary -occasions called him home: he departed thence with his men, having -found by good experience, that hee could never goe beyond -<i>Nathan</i> in liberality.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Signior_Gentile_de_Carisendi_being_come_from_Modena_took_a_Gentlewoman" id="Signior_Gentile_de_Carisendi_being_come_from_Modena_took_a_Gentlewoman">Signior Gentile de Carisendi, <i>being come from</i> Modena, <i>took a Gentlewoman, -named Madam</i> Catharina, <i>forth of a grave, wherein she -was buried for dead: which act he did, in regard of his former honest -affection to the said Gentlewoman. Madame</i> Catharina <i>remaining -afterward, and delivered of a goodly Sonne: was (by</i> Signior <i>there</i> -Gentile) <i>delivered to her owne Husband, named</i> Signior Nicoluccio -Caccianimico, <i>and the young infant with her.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Fourth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is shewne, That true love hath alwayes bin, and so still is, the -occasion of many great and worthy courtesies.</i></h4> - - -<p>By judgment of all the honourable assembly, it was reputed wonderfull, -that a man should be so bountifull, as to give away his -owne life, and to his hatefull enemy. In which respect, it passed -with generall affirmation, that <i>Nathan</i> (in the vertue of liberallity) -had exceeded <i>Alphonso</i>, King of <i>Spaine</i>, but (especially) the Abbot of -<i>Clugny</i>. So, after every one had delivered their opinion, the King, -turning himselfe to Madame <i>Lauretta</i>, gave her such a signe, as well -instructed her understanding, that she should be the next in order, -whereto she gladly yeelding, began in this manner.</p> - -<p>Youthfull Ladies, the discourses already past, have been so worthy -and magnificent, yea, reaching to such a height of glorious -splendour; as (me thinkes) there remaineth no more matter, for us -that are yet to speake, whereby to enlarge so famous an Argument, -and in such manner as it ought to be: except we lay hold on the -actions of love, wherein is never any want of subject, it is so faire -and spacious a field to walke in. Wherefore, as well in behalfe of -the one, as advancement of the other, whereto our instant age is -most of all inclined: I purpose to acquaint you with a generous -and magnificent act, of an amourous Gentleman, which when it -shall be duely considered on, perhaps will appeare equall to any of -the rest. At least, if it may passe for currant, that men may give away -their treasures, forgive mighty injuries, and lay downe life it selfe, -honour and renowne (which is farre greater) to infinite dangers, only -to attaine any thing esteemed and affected.</p> - -<p>Understand then (Gracious hearers) that in <i>Bologna</i>, a very famous -City of <i>Lombardie</i>, there lived sometime a Knight, most highly -respected for his vertues, named Signior <i>Gentile de Carisendi</i>, -who (in his younger dayes) was enamoured of a Gentlewoman, called -Madam <i>Catharina</i>, the Wife of Signior <i>Nicoluccio Caccianimico</i>. -And because during the time of his amourous pursuite, he found -but a sorry enterchange of affection from the Lady; hee went (as -hopelesse of any successe) to be Potestate of <i>Modena</i>, whereto he -was called by place and order.</p> - -<p>At the same time, Signior <i>Nicoluccio</i> being absent from <i>Bologna</i>, -and his Lady at a Farme-house of his in the Countrey (about three -miles distant from the City) because she was great with child, and -somewhat neere the time of her teeming: it came to passe, that -some dangerous accident befell her, which was so powerfull in operation, -as no signe of life appeared remained in her, but she was -reputed (even in the judgement of the best Phisitians, whereof she -wanted no attendance) to be verily dead. And because in the opinion -of her parents and neerest kinred, the time for her deliverance -was yet so farre off, as the Infant within her, wanted much of a perfect -creature: they made the lesse mourning; but in the next -Church, as also the vault belonging to her Ancestors, they gave her -buriall very speedily.</p> - -<p>Which tydings comming to the hearing of Signior <i>Gentile</i>, by -one that was his endeared friend: Although (while she lived) he -could never be gracious in her favour, yet her so sudden death did -greatly grieve him, whereupon he discoursed in this sort with himselfe. -Deare Madame <i>Catharina</i>, I am not a little sorry for thy -death, although (during thy life-time) I was scarcely worthy of one -kind looke: Yet now being dead, thou canst not prohibite me, but -I may robbe thee of a kisse. No sooner had hee spoke the words, -but it beeing then night, and taking such order, as none might -know of his departure: hee mounted on horse-backe, accompanied -onely with one servant, and stayed no where, till hee -came to the vault where the Lady was buried. Which when -he had opened, with instruments convenient for the purpose, he -descended downe into the vault, and kneeled downe by the Beere -whereon she lay, and in her wearing garments, according to the usuall -manner, with teares trickling mainly downe his cheekes, he bestowed -infinite sweet kisses on her.</p> - -<p>But as we commonly see, that mens desires are never contented, -but still will presume on further advantages, especially such as love -entirely: so fared it with <i>Gentile</i>, who being once minded to get -him gone, as satisfied with the oblation of his kisses; would needs -yet step backe againe, saying. Why should I not touch her yvory -breast, the Adamant that drew all desires to adore her? Ah let me -touch it now, for never hereafter can I bee halfe so happy. Overcome -with this alluring appetite, gently he laid his hand upon her -breast, with the like awefull respect, as if she were living, and holding -it so an indifferent while: either he felt, or his imagination so -perswaded him, the heart of the Lady to beate and pant. Casting -off all fond feare, and the warmth of his increasing the motion: his -inward soule assured him, that she was not dead utterly, but had -some small sense of life remaining in her, whereof he would needs -be further informed.</p> - -<p>So gently as possible he could, and with the helpe of his man, he -tooke her forth of the monument, & laying her softly on his horse -before him, conveighed her closely to his house in <i>Bologna</i>. Signior -<i>Gentile</i> had a worthy Lady to his Mother, a woman of great wisdome -and vertue, who understanding by her Sonne, how matters -had happened; moved with compassion, and suffering no one in the -house to know what was done, made a good fire, and very excellent -Bathe, which recalled back againe wrong-wandering life. Then -fetching a vehement sigh, opening her eyes, & looking very strangely -about her, she said. Alas! where am I now? whereto the good -old Lady kindly replyed, saying. Comfort your selfe Madame, for -you are in a good place.</p> - -<p>Her spirits being in better manner met together, and she still gazing -every way about her, not knowing well where she was, and -seeing Signior <i>Gentile</i> standing before her: he entreated his mother -to tell her by what meanes she came thither; which the good old -Lady did, <i>Gentile</i> himselfe helping to relate the whole history. A -while she grieved and lamented, but afterward gave them most -hearty thankes, humbly requesting, that, in regard of the love he -had formerly borne her, in his house she might finde no other usage, -varying from the honour of her selfe and her Husband, and -when day was come, to be conveighed home to her owne house. -Madame, answered Signior <i>Gentile</i>, whatsoever I sought to gaine -from you in former dayes, I never meane, either here, or any where -else, to motion any more. But seeing it hath been my happy fortune, -to prove the blessed means, of reducing you from death to life: -you shal find no other entertainment here, then as if you were mine -owne Sister. And yet the good deed which I have this night done -for you, doth well deserve some courteous requitall: in which -respect, I would have you not to deny me one favour, which I will -presume to crave of you. Whereto the Lady lovingly replyed, -that she was willing to grant it; provided, it were honest, and in her -power: whereto Signior <i>Gentile</i> thus answered.</p> - -<p>Madame, your parents, kindred and friends, and generally all -throughout <i>Bologna</i>, doe verily thinke you to be dead, wherefore -there is not any one, that will make any inquisition after you: in -which regard, the favour I desire from you, is no more but to abide -here secretly with my Mother, untill such time as I returne from -<i>Modena</i>, which shall be very speedily. The occasion why I move -this motion, aymeth at this end, that in presence of the chiefest persons -of our City, I may make a gladsome present of you to your -Husband. The Lady knowing her selfe highly beholding to the -Knight, and the request he made to be very honest: disposed her -selfe to doe as he desired (although she earnestly longed, to glad her -parents and kindred with seeing her alive) and made her promise -him on her faith, to effect it in such manner, as he pleased to appoint -and give her direction.</p> - -<p>Scarcely were these words concluded, but she felt the custome -of women to come upon her, with the paines and throwes incident -to childing: wherefore, with helpe of the aged Lady, Mother to -Signior <i>Gentile</i>, it was not long before her deliverance of a goodly -Sonne, which greatly augmented the joy of her and <i>Gentile</i>, who -tooke order, that all things belonging to a Woman in such a case, -were not wanting, but she was as carefully respected, even as if she -had been his owne Wife. Secretly he repaired to <i>Modena</i>, where -having given direction for his place of authority; he returned back -againe to <i>Bologna</i>, and there made preparation for a great and solemne -feast, appointing who should be his invited guests, the very -chiefest persons in <i>Bologna</i>, and (among them) Signior <i>Nicoluccio -Caccianimico</i> the especiall man.</p> - -<p>After he was dismounted from horsebacke, and found so good -company attending for him (the Lady also, more faire and healthfull -then ever, and the Infant lively disposed) he sate downe at the Table -with his guests, causing them to be served in most magnificent -manner, with plenty of all delicates that could be devised, and never -before was there such a Joviall feast. About the ending of dinner, -closely he made the Lady acquainted with his further intention, -and likewise in what order every thing should be done, which -being effected, he returned to his company, & used these speeches.</p> - -<p>Honourable friends, I remember a discourse sometime made -unto me, concerning the Countrey of <i>Persia</i>, and a kind of custome -there observed, not to be misliked in mine opinion. When any one -intended to honour his friend in effectuall manner, he invited him -home to his house, and there would shew him the thing, which -with greatest love he did respect; were it Wife, Friend, Sonne, -Daughter, or any thing else whatsoever; wherewithall hee spared -not to affirme, that as he shewed him those choyce delights, the like -view he should have of his heart, if with any possibility it could be -done; and the very same custome I meane now to observe here in -our City. You have vouchsafed to honour me with your presence, -at this poore homely dinner of mine, and I will welcome you after -the <i>Persian</i> manner, in shewing you the Jewell, which (above all -things else in the world) I ever have most respectively esteemed. -But before I doe it, I crave your favourable opinions in a doubt, -which I will plainely declare unto you.</p> - -<p>If any man having in his house a good and faithfull servant, who -falling into extremity of sickenesse, shall be throwne forth into the -open street, without any care or pitty taken on him; A stranger -chanceth to passe by, and (moved with compassion of his weakenesse) -carryeth him home to his owne house, where using all charitable -diligence, and not sparing any cost, he recovereth the sicke -person to his former health. I now desire to know, if keeping the -said restored person, and imploying him about his owne businesse: -the first Master (by pretending his first right) may lawfully complaine -of the second, and yeeld him backe againe to the first master, -albeit he doe make challenge of him?</p> - -<p>All the Gentlemen, after many opinions passing among them, -agreed altogether in one sentence, and gave charge to Signior <i>Nicoluccio -Caccianimico</i>, (because he was an excellent and elegant -speaker) to give answere for them all. First, he commended the custome -observed in <i>Persia</i>, saying, he jumpt in opinion with all the -rest, that the first Master had no right at all to the servant, having -not onely (in such necessity) forsaken him, but also cast him forth into -the comfortlesse street. But for the benefits and mercy extended -to him; it was more then manifest, that the recovered person, was -become justly servant to the second Master, and in detayning him -from the first, hee did not offer him any injury at all. The whole -Company sitting at the Table (being all very wise & worthy men) -gave their verdict likewise with the confession of Signior <i>Nicoluccio -Caccianimico</i>. Which answere did not a little please the Knight; -and so much the rather, because <i>Nicoluccio</i> had pronounced it, affirming -himselfe to be of the same minde.</p> - -<p>So, sitting in a pretended musing a while, at length he said. My -honourable guests, it is now more then high time, that I should doe -you such honour, as you have most justly deserved, by performing -the promise made unto you. Then calling two of his servants, he -sent them to Madame <i>Catharina</i> (whom he had caused to adorne -her self in excellent manner) entreating her, that she would be pleased -to grace his guests with her presence. <i>Catharina</i>, having deckt -her child in costly habiliments, layed it in her armes, and came with -the servants into the dyning Hall, and sate down (as the Knight had -appointed) at the upper end of the Table, and then Signior <i>Gentile</i> -spake thus. Behold, worthy Gentlemen, this is the Jewell which I -have most affected, and intend to love none other in the world; be -you my Judges, whether I have just occasion to doe so, or no? The -Gentlemen saluting her with respective reverence, said to the -Knight; that he had great reason to affect her: And viewing her -advisedly, many of them thought her to be the very same woman -(as indeed she was) but that they beleeved her to be dead.</p> - -<p>But above all the rest <i>Nicoluccio Caccianimico</i> could never be satisfied -with beholding her; and, enflamed with earnest desire, to -know what she was, could not refraine (seeing the Knight was gone -out of the roome) but demaunded of her, whether she were of <i>Bologna</i>, -or a stranger? when the Lady heard her selfe to be thus questioned, and -by her Husband, it seemed painefull to her, to containe -from answering: Neverthelesse, to perfect the Knights intended -purpose, she sate silent. Others demaunded of her, whether the -sweet Boy were hers, or no; and some questioned, if she were <i>Gentiles</i> -Wife, or no, or else his Kinsewoman; to all which demaunds, -she returned not any answere. But when the Knight came to them -againe, some of them said to him. Sir, this woman is a goodly creature, -but she appeareth to be dumbe, which were great pitty, if it -should be so. Gentlemen (quoth he) it is no small argument of her -vertue, to sit still and silent at this instant. Tell us then (said they) of -whence, and what she is. Therein (quoth he) I will quickely resolve -you, upon your conditionall promise: that none of you do remove -from his place, whatsoever shall be said or done, untill I have fully -delivered my minde. Every one bound himselfe by solemne promise, -to perform what he had appointed, and the Tables being voided, -as also the Carpets laid; then the Knight (sitting downe by the -Lady) thus began.</p> - -<p>Worthy Gentlemen, this Lady is that true and faithfull servant, -whereof I moved the question to you, whom I tooke out of the cold -street, where her parents, kindred and friends (making no account at -all of her) threw her forth, as a thing vile and unprofitable. Neverthelesse, -such hath been my care and cost, that I have rescued her -out of deaths griping power; and, in a meere charitable disposition, -which honest affection caused me to beare her; of a body, full -of terror & affrighting (as then she was) I have caused her to become -thus lovely as you see. But because you may more apparantly discerne, -in what manner this occasion happened; I will lay it open to -you in more familiar manner. Then he began the whole history, -from the originall of his unbeseeming affection to her (in regard she -was a worthy mans wife) and consequently, how all had happened -to the instant houre, to the no meane admiration of all the hearers, -adding withall. Now Gentlemen (quoth he) if you varry not from -your former opinion, and especially Signior <i>Nicoluccio Caccianimico</i>: -this Lady (by good right) is mine, and no man else, by any -just title, can lay any claime to her.</p> - -<p>All sate silent, without answering one word, as expecting what -he intended further to say: but in the meane while, <i>Nicoluccio</i>, the -parents and kindred, but chiefely the Lady her selfe, appeared as -halfe melted into teares with weeping. But Signior <i>Gentile</i>, starting -up from the Table, taking the Infant in his arme, and leading -the Lady by the hand, going to <i>Nicoluccio</i>, thus spake. Rise Sir, I will -not give thee thy wife, whom both her kindred and thine, threw -forth into the street: but I will bestow this Lady on thee, being my -Gossip, and this sweet Boy my God-sonne, who was (as I am verily -perswaded) begotten by thee, I standing witnesse for him at the -Font of Baptisme, and give him mine owne name <i>Gentile</i>. Let me -entreat thee, that, although she hath lived here in mine house, for the -space of three monethes, she should not be lesse welcome to thee, -then before: for I sweare to thee upon my soule, that my former -affection to her (how unjust soever) was the onely meanes of preserving -her life: and more honestly she could not live, with Father, -Mother, or thy selfe, then she hath done here with mine owne Mother.</p> - -<p>Having thus spoken, he turned to the Lady, saying. Madame, I -now discharge you of all promises made me, delivering you to your -Husband franke and free: And when he had given him the Lady, -and the child in his armes, he returned to his place, and sate downe -againe. <i>Nicoluccio</i>, with no meane joy and hearty contentment -received both his wife and childe, being before farre from expectation -of such an admirable comfort; returning the Knight infinite -thankes (as all the rest of the Company did the like) who could not -refraine from weeping for meere joy, for such a strange and wonderful -accident: everyone highly commending <i>Gentile</i>, & such also -as chanced to heare thereof. The Lady was welcommed home to -her owne house, with many moneths of Joviall feasting, and as she -passed through the streets, all beheld her with admiration, to be so -happily recovered from her grave. Signior <i>Gentile</i> lived long after, -a loyall friend to <i>Nicoluccio</i> and his Lady, and all that were well-willers -to them.</p> - -<p>What thinke you now Ladies? Can you imagine, because a -King gave away his Crowne and Scepter; and an Abbot (without -any cost to himselfe) reconciled a Malefactor to the Pope; and an -old idle-headed man, yeelding to the mercy of his enemy: that all -those actions are comparable to this of Signior <i>Gentile</i>? Youth and -ardent affection, gave him a just and lawfull title, to her who was -free (by imagined death) from Husbands, Parents, and all friends -else, she being so happily wonne into his owne possession. Yet honesty -not onely over-swayed the heate of desire, which in many -men is violent and immoderate: but with a bountifull and liberall -soule, that which he coveted beyond all hopes else, and had within -his owne command; he freely gave away. Beleeve me (bright -Beauties) not any of the other (in a true and unpartiall judgement) -are worthy to be equalled with this, or stiled by the name of magnificent -actions.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Madame_Dianora_the_Wife_of_Signior_Gilberto_being_immodestly" id="Madame_Dianora_the_Wife_of_Signior_Gilberto_being_immodestly"><i>Madame</i> Dianora, <i>the Wife of Signior</i> Gilberto, <i>being immodestly -affected by Signior</i> Ansaldo, <i>to free herselfe from his tedious importunity, -she appointed him to performe (in her judgement) an act -of impossibility, namely, to give her a Garden, as plentifully stored -with fragrant Flowers in January, as in the flourishing moneth of</i> -May. Ansaldo, <i>by meanes of a bond which he made to a Magitian, -performed her request. Signior</i> Gilberto, <i>the Ladyes Husband, -gave consent, that his Wife should fulfill her promise made to</i> -Ansaldo. <i>Who hearing the bountifull mind of her Husband; released -her of her promise: And the Magitian likewise discharged -Signior</i> Ansaldo, <i>without taking any thing of him.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The fift Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Admonishing all Ladies and Gentlewomen, that are desirous to preserve -their chastity, free from all blemish and taxation: to make no -promise of yeelding to any, under a compact or covenant, how impossible -soever it may seeme to be.</i></h4> - - -<p>Not any one in all the Company, but extolled the worthy -Act of Signior <i>Gentile</i> to the skies; till the King gave -command to Madame <i>Æmillia</i>, that she should follow -next with her Tale, who boldly stepping up, began in this order.</p> - -<p>Gracious Ladies, I thinke there is none heere present among us, -but (with good reason) may maintaine, that Signiour <i>Gentile</i> performed -a magnificent deede: but whosoever saith, it is impossible -to do more; perhaps is ignorant in such actions, as can and may be -done, as I meane to make good unto you, by a Novell not over-long -or tedious.</p> - -<p>The Countrey of <i>Fretulium</i>, better knowne by the name of <i>Forum -Julii</i>; although it be subject to much cold, yet it is pleasant, in -regard of many goodly Mountaines, Rivers, and cleare running -Springs, wherewith it is not meanly stored. Within those Territories, -is a City called <i>Udina</i>, where sometime lived a faire and Noble -Lady, named Madame <i>Dianora</i>, Wife to a rich and woorthie -Knight, called Signior <i>Gilberto</i>, a man of very great fame and merite.</p> - -<p>This beautifull Lady, beeing very modest and vertuously inclined, -was highly affected by a Noble Baron of those parts, tearmed -by the name of Signior <i>Ansaldo Gradense</i>, a man of very great spirit, -bountifull, active in Armes, and yet very affable and courteous, -which caused him to be the better respected. His love to this Lady -was extraordinary, hardly to bee contained within any moderate -compasse, striving to bee in like manner affected of her: to which -end, she wanted no daily solicitings, Letters, Ambassages and Love-tokens, -all proving to no purpose.</p> - -<p>This vertuous Lady, being wearied with his often temptations, -and seeing, that by denying whatsoever he demanded, yet he wold -not give over his suite, but so much the more importunately stil pursued -her: began to bethinke herselfe, how she might best be rid of -him, by imposing some such taske upon him, as should bee impossible -(in her opinion) for him to effect. An olde woman, whom hee -imployed for his continuall messenger to her, as shee came one day -about her ordinary errand, with her she communed in this manner. -Good woman (quoth she) thou hast so often assured me, that Signior -<i>Ansaldo</i> loveth me above all other Women in the world, offering -me wonderfull gifts and presents in his name, which I have alwayes -refused, and so stil wil do, in regard I am not to be woon by -any such allurements: yet if I could be soundly perswaded, that his -affection is answerable to thy peremptory protestations, I shoulde -(perhaps) be the sooner wonne, to listen to his suite in milder manner, -then hitherto I have done. Wherefore, if he wil give me assurance, -to perform such a businesse as I mean to enjoyne him, he shall -the speedier heare better answer from me, and I wil confirme it with -mine oath.</p> - -<p>Wonderfully pleased was Mistresse <i>Maquerella</i>, to heare a reply -of such comfortable hope; and therefore desired the Lady, to tel hir -what she wold have done. Listen to me wel (answerd Madam <i>Dianora</i>) -the matter which I would have him to effect for me, is; without -the wals of our City, and during the month of Januarie nexte -ensuing, to provide me a Garden, as fairely furnished with all kind -of fragrant flowers, as the flourishing month of May can yeelde no -better. If he be not able to accomplish this imposition, then I command -him, never hereafter to solicite me any more, either by thee, -or any other whatsoever; for, if he do importune me afterward, as -hitherto I have concealed his secret conspiring, both from my husband, -and all my friends; so will I then lay his dishonest suite open -to the world, that he may receive punishment accordingly, for offering -to wrong a Gentleman in his wife.</p> - -<p>When Signior <i>Ansaldo</i> heard her demand, and the offer beside -thereuppon made him (although it seemed no easie matter; but a -thing meerly impossible to be done) he considered advisedly, that -she made this motion to no other end, but onely to bereave him of -all his hope, ever to enjoy what so earnestly hee desired: neverthelesse, -he would not so give it utterly over, but would needs approve -what could be done. Heereupon, hee sent into divers partes of the -world, to find out any one that was able to advise him in this doubtfull -case. In the end, one was brought to him, who beeing well recompenced -for his paines, by the Art of Nigromancie would undertake -to do it. With him Signior <i>Ansaldo</i> covenanted, binding himselfe -to pay a great summe of mony, upon performance of so rare a -deed, awaiting (in hopefull expectation) for the month of Januaries -comming.</p> - -<p>It being come, and the weather then in extreamity of cold, every -thing being covered with ice and snow; the Magitian prevailed so -by his Art, that after the Christmas Holy dayes were past, and the -Calends of January entred: in one night, and without the Cittie -Wals, the goodliest Garden of flowers and fruites, was sodainely -sprung up, as (in opinion of such as beheld it) never was the like seen -before. Now Ladies, I think I need not demand the question, whether -Signior <i>Ansaldo</i> were wel pleased, or no, who going to beholde -it, saw it most plenteously stored, with al kind of fruit trees, flowers, -herbes and plants, as no one could be named, that was wanting in -this artificiall garden. And having gathered some pretty store of -them, secretly he sent them to Madam <i>Dianora</i>, inviting hir to come -see her Garden, perfected according to her owne desire, and uppon -view thereof, to confesse the integrity of his love to her; considering -and remembring withall, the promise shee had made him under solemne -oath, that she might be reputed for a woman of her word.</p> - -<p>When the Lady beheld the fruites and flowers, and heard many -other thinges re-counted, so wonderfully growing in the same -Garden: she began to repent her rash promise made; yet not withstanding -her repentance, as Women are covetous to see all rarities; -so, accompanied with divers Ladies and Gentlewomen more, she -went to see the Garden; and having commended it with much admiration, -she returned home againe, the most sorrowfull Woman -as ever lived, considering what she had tyed her selfe to, for enjoying -this Garden. So excessive grew her griefe and affliction, that it -could not be so clouded or concealed: but her Husband tooke notice -of it, and would needs understand the occasion thereof. Long -the Lady (in regard of shame and modesty) sate without returning -any answer; but being in the end constrained, she disclosd the whole -History to him.</p> - -<p>At the first, Signior <i>Gilberto</i> waxed exceeding angry, but when -he further considered withall, the pure and honest intention of his -Wife; wisely he pacified his former distemper, and saide. <i>Dianora</i>, -it is not the part of a wise and honest woman, to lend an eare to ambassages -of such immodest nature, much lesse to compound or make -agreement for her honesty, with any person, under any condition -whatsoever. Those perswasions which the heart listeneth to, by allurement -of the eare, have greater power then many do imagine, & -nothing is so uneasie or difficult, but in a lovers judgement it appeareth -possible. Ill didst thou therefore first of all to listen, but worse -(afterward) to contract.</p> - -<p>But, because I know the purity of thy soule, I wil yeelde (to disoblige -thee of thy promise) as perhaps no wise man else would do: -mooved thereto onely by feare of the Magitian, who seeing Signior -<i>Ansaldo</i> displeased, because thou makest a mockage of him; will -do some such violent wrong to us, as we shal be never able to recover. -Wherefore, I would have thee go to Signior <i>Ansaldo</i>, and if -thou canst (by any meanes) obtaine of him, the safe-keeping of thy -honour, and full discharge of thy promise; it shal be an eternall fame -to thee, and the crowne of a most victorious conquest. But if it must -needs be otherwise, lend him thy body onely for once, but not thy -wil: for actions committed by constraint, wherein the will is no -way guilty, are halfe pardonable by the necessity.</p> - -<p>Madame <i>Dianora</i>, hearing her husbands words, wept exceedingly, -and avouched, that shee had not deserved any such especiall -grace of him, and therefore she would rather dye, then doe it. Neverthelesse, -it was the wil of her Husband to have it so, and therefore -(against her wil) she gave consent. The next morning, by the -breake of day, <i>Dianora</i> arose, and attiring her selfe in her very meanest -garments, with two servingmen before her, and a waiting Woman -following, she went to the lodging of Signior <i>Ansaldo</i>, who -hearing that Madam <i>Dianora</i> was come to visite him, greatly mervailed, -and being risen, he called the Magitian to him, saying. Come -go with me, and see what effect will follow upon thine Art. And being -come into her presence, without any base or inordinate appetite, -he did her humble reverence, embracing her honestly, and taking -her into a goodly Chamber, where a faire fire was readilie -prepared, causing her to sit downe by him, he sayde unto her as followeth.</p> - -<p>Madam, I humbly intreat you to resolve me, if the affection I have -long time borne you, and yet do stil, deserve any recompence at all: -you would be pleased then to tel me truly, the occasion of your instant -comming hither, and thus attended as you are. <i>Dianora</i>, blushing -with modest shame, and the teares trickling mainly down her -faire cheekes, thus answered. Signior <i>Ansaldo</i>, not for any Love I -beare you, or care of my faithfull promise made to you, but onely -by the command of my husband (who respecting more the paynes -and travels of your inordinate love, then his owne reputation and -honour, or mine;) hath caused me to come hither: and by vertue of -his command, am ready (for once onely) to fulfill your pleasure, but -far from any will or consent in my selfe. If Signior <i>Ansaldo</i> were abashed -at the first, hee began now to be more confounded with admiration, -when he heard the Lady speake in such strange manner: & -being much moved with the liberall command of her husband, he -began to alter his inflamed heate, into most honourable respect and -compassion, returning her this answer.</p> - -<p>Most noble Lady, the Gods forbid (if it be so as you have sayd) -that I should (Villain-like) soile the honour of him, that takes such -unusuall compassion of my unchaste appetite. And therefore, you -may remaine heere so long as you please, in no other condition, but -as mine owne naturall borne Sister; and likewise, you may depart -freely when you will: conditionally, that (on my behalfe) you render -such thankes to your husband, as you thinke convenient for his -great bounty towards me, accounting me for ever heereafter, as his -loyall Brother and faithfull servant. <i>Dianora</i> having well observed -his answer, her heart being ready to mount out at her mouth with -joy, said. All the world could never make mee beleeve (considering -your honourable minde and honesty) that it would happen otherwise -to me, then now it hath done; for which noble courtesie, I will -continually remaine obliged to you. So, taking her leave, she returned -home honourably attended to her husband, and relating to him -what had happened, it proved the occasion of begetting intire love -and friendship, betweene himselfe and the Noble Lord <i>Ansaldo</i>.</p> - -<p>Now concerning the skilfull Magitian, to whom <i>Ansaldo</i> meant -to give the bountifull recompence agreed on betweene them, hee -having seene the strange liberality, which the husband expressed to -Signior <i>Ansaldo</i>, and that of <i>Ansaldo</i> to the Lady, hee presently -saide. Great <i>Jupiter</i> strike me dead with thunder, having my selfe -seene a husband so liberall of his honour, and you Sir of true noble -kindnesse, if I should not be the like of my recompence: for, perceiving -it to be so worthily imployed, I am well contented that you -shal keepe it. The Noble Lord was modestly ashamed, and strove -(so much as in him lay) that he should take all, or the greater part -thereof: but seeing he laboured meerly in vaine, after the third day -was past, and the Magitian had destroyed the Garden againe, hee -gave him free liberty to depart, quite controlling all fond and -unchaste affection in himselfe, either towards <i>Dianora</i>, or any Lady -else, and living (ever after) as best becommeth any Nobleman -to do.</p> - -<p>What say you now Ladies? Shal wee make any account of the -woman wel-neere dead, and the kindnesse growne cold in Signiour -<i>Gentile</i>, by losse of his former hopes, comparing them with the liberality -of Signior <i>Ansaldo</i>, affecting more fervently, then ever the -other did? And being (beyond hope) possessed of the booty, which -(above all things else in the world) he most desired to have, to part -with it meerly in fond compassion? I protest (in my judgement) the -one is no way comparable to the other; that of <i>Gentile</i>, with this last -of Signior <i>Ansaldo</i>.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Victorious_King_Charles_sirnamed_the_Aged_and_first_of_that_Name" id="Victorious_King_Charles_sirnamed_the_Aged_and_first_of_that_Name"><i>Victorious</i> King Charles, <i>sirnamed the Aged, and first of that Name, -fell in love with a young Maiden, named</i> Genevera, <i>daughter to an -ancient Knight, called Signior</i> Neri degli Uberti. <i>And waxing ashamed -of his amorous folly, caused both</i> Genevera, <i>and her fayre -Sister</i> Isotta, <i>to be joyned in marriage with two Noble Gentlemen; -the one named</i> Signior Maffeo da Palizzi, <i>and the other,</i> Signior -Gulielmo della Magna.</a></h4> - -<h2>The Sixt Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Sufficiently declaring, that how mighty soever the power of Love is: -yet a magnanimous and truly generous heart, it can by no meanes -fully conquer.</i></h4> - - -<p>Who is able to expresse ingeniously, the diversity of opinions, -which hapned among the Ladies, in censuring on the -act of Madame <i>Dianora</i>, and which of them was most liberall, -either Signior <i>Gilberto</i> the Husband, Lord <i>Ansaldo</i> the importunate -suiter, or the Magitian, expecting to bee bountifully rewarded. -Surely, it is a matter beyond my capacity: but after the -King had permitted their disputation a long while, looking on Madam -<i>Fiammetta</i>, he commanded that she should report her Novel -to make an end of their controversie; and she (without any further -delaying) thus began. I did alwaies (Noble Ladies) hold it fit and -decent, that in such an assembly as this of ours is, every one ought -to speake so succinctly and plainly: that the obscure understanding, -concerning the matters spoken of, should have no cause of disputation. -For disputes do much better become the Colledges of Scholars, -then to be among us, who hardly can manage our Distaves or -Samplers. And therefore I, doe intend to relate something, which -(peradventure) might appeare doubtfull: will forbeare (seeing you -in such a difference; for that which hath bin spoken alreadie) to use -any difficult discourse; but will speake of one, a man of no meane -ranke or quality, being both a valiant and vertuous King, and what -he did, without any impeach or blemish to his honour.</p> - -<p>I make no doubt, but you have often heard report, of king <i>Charles</i> -the Aged, and first of that name, by reason of his magnificent enterprises, -as also his most glorious victory, which he obtaind against -King <i>Manfred</i>, when the <i>Ghibellines</i> were expulsed foorth of <i>Florence</i>, -and the <i>Guelphes</i> returned thither againe. By which occasion, -an ancient knight, named Signior <i>Neri degli Uberti</i>; forsaking -then the City, with all his family and great store of wealth, woulde -live under any other obedience, then the awful power or command -of King <i>Charles</i>. And coveting to be in some solitary place, where -he might finish the remainder of his dayes in peace, he went to <i>Castello -da Mare</i>; where, about a Bow shoote distance from all other -dwelling houses, hee bought a parcel of ground, plentifully stored -with variety of Trees, bearing Olives, Chesnuts, Orenges, Lemons, -Pomcitrons, and other excellent frutages, wherewith the Countrey -flourisheth abundantly. There he built a very faire and commodious -house, and planted (close by it) a pleasant Garden, in the midst -whereof, because he had great plenty of water: according as other -men use to do, being in the like case so wel provided; he made a very -goodly Pond, which forthwith had all kinde of Fish swimming -in it, it being his daily care and endevour, to tend his Garden, and -encrease his Fish-pond.</p> - -<p>It fortuned, that King <i>Charles</i> (in the Summer time) for his pleasure -and recreation, went to repose himselfe (for some certayne -dayes) at <i>Castello de Mare</i>, where having heard report of the beautie -and singularitie of Signiour <i>Neries</i> Garden; hee grew very desirous -to see it. But when he understoode to whome it belonged, -then he entred into consideration with himselfe, that hee was an ancient -Knight, maintaining a contrarie faction to his: wherefore, he -thought it fit to goe in some familiar manner, and with no trayne -attending on him. Whereupon he sent him word, that he wold come -to visit him, with foure Gentlemen onely in his companie, meaning -to sup with him in his Garden the next night ensuing. The newes -was very welcome to <i>Signior Neri</i>, who took order in costly manner -for all things to bee done, entertaining the King most joyfullly into -his beautifull Garden.</p> - -<p>When the King had survayed all, and the house likewise, he commended -it beyond all other comparison, and the Tables being placed -by the Ponds side, he washed his hands therein, & then sat down -at the table, commanding the Count, Sir <i>Guy de Montforte</i> (who -was one of them which came in his company) to sitte downe by -him, and Signior <i>Neri</i> on his other side. As for the other three of -the traine, hee commaunded them to attend on his service, as Signior -<i>Neri</i> had given order. There wanted no exquisite Viandes -and excellent Wines, all performed in most decent manner, and -without the least noise or disturbance, wherein the King tooke no -little delight.</p> - -<p>Feeding thus in this contented manner, and facying the solitude -of the place: sodainly entred into the garden, two young Damosels, -each aged about some fifteene yeares, their haire resembling wyars -of Gold, and curiously curled, having Chaplets (made like provinciall -Crownes) on their heades, and their delicate faces, expressing -them to be rather Angels, then mortall creatures, such was the appearance -of their admired beauty. Their under-garments were of -costly Silke, yet white as the finest snow, framed (from the girdle -upward) close to their bodies, but spreading largely downward, like -the extendure of a Pavillion, and so descending to the feet. She that -first came in sight, caried on her shoulder a couple of fishing Netts, -which she held fast with her left hand, and in the right she carryed a -long staffe. The other following her, had on her left shoulder a Frying-pan, -and under the same arme a small Faggot of woodde, with a -Trevit in her hand; and in the other hand a pot of Oyle, as also a -brand of fire flaming.</p> - -<p>No sooner did the King behold them, but he greatly wondered -what they should be; and, without uttering one word, attended to -listen what they wold say. Both the young damosels, when they were -come before the King, with modest and bashfull gesture, they performed -very humble reverence to him, and going to the place of entrance -into the Pond, she who held the Trevit, set it downe on the -ground, with the other things also; and taking the staffe which the -other Damosell carried: they both went into the Pond, the water -whereof reached so high as to their bosomes. One of the Servants -to Signior <i>Neri</i>, presently kindled the fire, setting the Trevit over -it, and putting Oyle into the Frying-panne, held it uppon the Trevit, -awaiting untill the Damosels should cast him uppe Fish. One -of them did beate a place with the staffe, where she was assured of -the Fishes resort, and the other hadde lodged the Nets so conveniently, -as they quickly caught great store of Fish, to the Kings high -contentment, who observed their behaviour very respectively.</p> - -<p>As the Fishes were throwne up to the servant, alive as they were, -he tooke the best and fairest of them, and brought them to the -Table, where they skipt and mounted before the King, Count <i>Guy -de Montfort</i> and the Father: some leaping from the Table into the -Pond againe, and others, the King (in a pleasing humour) voluntarily -threw backe to the Damosels. Jesting and sporting in this manner, -till the servant had drest divers of them in exquisite order, and -served them to the Table, according as Signior <i>Neri</i> had ordained. -When the Damosels saw the Fishes service performed, and perceived -that they had fished sufficiently: they came forth of the water, -their garments then (being wet) hanging close about them, even as -if they hid no part of their bodies. Each having taken those things -againe, which at first they brought with them, and saluting the king -in like humility as they did before, returned home to the mansion -house.</p> - -<p>The King and Count likewise, as also the other attending Gentlemen, -having duely considered the behaviour of the Damosels: commended -extraordinarily their beauty and faire feature, with those -other perfections of Nature so gloriously shining in them. But (beyond -all the rest) the King was boundlesse in his praises given of -them, having observed their going into the water, the equall carriage -there of them both, their comming forth, and gracious demeanor -at their departing (yet neither knowing of whence, or what they -were) he felt his affection very violently flamed, and grew into such -an amourous desire to them both, not knowing which of them -pleased him most, they so choisely resembled one another in all -things.</p> - -<p>But after he had dwelt long enough upon these thoughts, he turned -him selfe to Signior <i>Neri</i>, and demanded of him, what Damosels -they were. Sir (answered <i>Neri</i>) they are my Daughters, both -brought into the world at one birth, and Twinnes, the one -being named <i>Genevera</i> the faire, and the other <i>Isotta</i> the amiable. -The King began againe to commend them both, and gave him advise -to get them both married: wherein he excused himselfe, alleadging, -that he wanted power to doe it. At the same time instant, -no other service remaining to be brought to the table, except Fruit -and Cheese, the two Damosels returned againe, attyred in goodly -Roabes of Carnation Sattin, formed after the Turkish fashion, carrying -two fayre Silver dishes in their hands, filled with divers delicate -Fruits, such as the season then afforded, setting them on the -Table before the King. Which being done, they retyred a little -backeward, and with sweet melodious voyces, sung a ditty, beginning -in this manner.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Where Love presumeth into place:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let no one sing in Loves disgrace.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>So sweet and pleasing seemed the Song to the King (who tooke -no small delight, both to heare and behold the Damosels) even as if -all the Hirarchies of Angels, were descended from the Heavens to -sing before him. No sooner was the Song ended, but (humbly on -their knees) they craved favour of the King for their departing. -Now, although their departure was greatly grieving to him, yet (in -outward appearance) he seemed willing to grant it.</p> - -<p>When Supper was concluded, and the King and his Company -remounted on horsebacke: thankefully departing from Signior -<i>Neri</i>, the King returned to his lodging, concealing there closely his -affection to himselfe, and whatsoever important affaires happened: -yet he could not forget the beauty, & gracious behaviour of <i>Genevera</i> -the faire (for whose sake he loved her Sister likewise) but became -so linked to her in vehement manner, as he had no power to think on -any thing else. Pretending other urgent occasions, he fell into -great familiarity with Signior <i>Neri</i>, visiting very often his goodly -Garden; onely to see his faire Daughter <i>Genevera</i>, the Adamant -which drew him thither.</p> - -<p>When he felt his amourous assaults, to exceed all power of longer -sufferance: he resolved determinately with himselfe, (being -unprovided of any better meanes) to take her away from her Father, -and not onely she, but her Sister also; discovering both his -love and intent to Count <i>Guy de Montforte</i>, who being a very worthy -and vertuous Lord, and meet to be a Counseller for a King, delivered -his mind in this manner.</p> - -<p>Gracious Lord, I wonder not a little at your speeches, and so -much the greater is my admiration, because no man else can be subject -to the like, in regard I have knowne you from the time of your infancy; -even to this instant houre, and alwayes your carriage to bee -one and the same. I could never perceive in your youthfull dayes -(when love should have the greatest meanes to assaile you) any such -oppressing passions: which is now the more novell and strange to -me, to heare it but said, that you being old, and called the Aged; -should be growne amorous, surely to me it seemeth a miracle. And -if it appertained to me to reprehend you in this case, I know well enough -what I could say. Considering, you have yet your Armour -on your backe, in a Kingdome newly conquered, among a Nation -not knowne to you, full of falsehoods, breaches, and treasons; all -which are no meane motives to care and needfull respect. But having -now wone a little leisure, to rest your selfe a while from such -serious affaires; can you give way to the idle suggestions of Love? -Beleeve me Sir, it is no act becomming a magnanimious King; but -rather the giddy folly of a young braine.</p> - -<p>Moreover you say (which most of all I mislike) that you intend -to take the two Virgines from the Knight, who hath given you entertainment -in his house beyond his ability, and to testifie how -much he honoured you, he suffered you to have a sight of them, -meerely (almost) in a naked manner: witnessing thereby, what constant -faith he reposed in you, beleeving verily, that you were a just -King, and not a ravenous Woolfe. Have you so soone forgot, that -the rapes and violent actions, done by King <i>Manfred</i> to harmelesse -Ladies, made your onely way of entrance into this Kingdome? -What treason was ever committed, more worthy of eternall punishment, -then this will be in you: to take away from him (who -hath so highly honoured you) his chiefest hope and consolation? -What will be said by all men, if you doe it?</p> - -<p>Peradventure you thinke, it will be a sufficient excuse for you, to -say: I did it, in regard hee was a <i>Ghibelline</i>. Can you imagine this -to be justice in a King, that such as get into their possession in this -manner (whatsoever it be) ought to use it in this sort? Let me tell -you Sir, it was a most worthy victory for you, to conquer King -<i>Manfred</i>: but it is farre more famous victory, for a man to conquer -himselfe. You therfore, who are ordained to correct vices in -other men, learne first to subdue them in your selfe, and (by brideling -this inordinate appetite) set not a foule blemish on so faire a -fame, as will be honour to you to preserve spotlesse.</p> - -<p>These words pierced the heart of the King deepely, and so -much the more afflicted him, because he knew them to be most -true: wherefore, after he had ventred a very vehement sigh, thus he -replyed. Beleeve me noble Count, there is not any enemy, how -strong soever he be, but I hold him weake and easie to be vanquished, -by him who is skilfull in the warre, where a man may learne to -conquere his owne appetite. But because he shall find it a laborious -taske, requiring inestimable strength and courage: your words -have so toucht me to the quicke, that it becommeth me to let you -effectually perceive (and within the compasse of few dayes) that as -I have learned to conquer others, so I am not ignorant, in expressing -the like power upon my selfe.</p> - -<p>Having thus spoken, within some few dayes after, the King being -returned to <i>Naples</i>, he determined, as well to free himself from -any the like ensuing follie, as also to recompence Signior <i>Neri</i>, for -the great kindnesse he had shewne to him (although it was a difficult -thing, to let another enjoy, what he rather desired for himselfe) -to have the two Damosels married, not as the Daughters of Signior -<i>Neri</i>, but even as if they were his owne. And by consent of the -Father, he gave <i>Genevera</i> the faire, to Signior <i>Maffeo da Pallizzi</i>, -and <i>Isotta</i> the amiable, to Signior <i>Gulielmo della Magna</i>, two Noble -Knights and honourable Barons. After he had thus given them in -marriage, in sad mourning he departed thence into <i>Apuglia</i>, where -by following worthy and honourable actions, he so well overcame -all inordinate appetites: that shaking off the enthralling fetters of -love, he lived free from all passions, the rest of his life time, and dyed -as an honourable King.</p> - -<p>Some perhaps will say, it was a small matter for a King, to give away -two Damosels in marriage, and I confesse it: but I maintaine -it to be great, and more then great, if we say, that a King, being so -earnestly enamoured as this King was; should give her away to -another, whom he so dearely affected himselfe, without receiving -(in recompence of his affection) so much as a leaffe, flower, or the -least fruit of love. Yet such was the vertue of this magnificent -King, expressed in so highly recompencing the noble Knights courtesie, -honouring the two daughters so royally, and conquering his -owne affections so vertuously.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Lisana_the_Daughter_of_a_Florentine_Apothecary_named_Bernardo" id="Lisana_the_Daughter_of_a_Florentine_Apothecary_named_Bernardo">Lisana, <i>the Daughter of a Florentine Apothecary, named</i> Bernardo -Puccino, <i>being at</i> Palermo, <i>and seeing</i> Piero, <i>King of</i> Aragon <i>run -at the Tilt; fell so affectionately enamored of him, that she languished -in an extreame and long sickenesse. By her owne devise, and means -of a Song, sung in the hearing of the King: he vouchsafed to visite -her, and giving her a kisse, terming himselfe also to bee her Knight -for ever after, hee honourably bestowed her in marriage on a young -Gentleman, who was called</i> Perdicano, <i>and gave him liberall endowments -with her.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Seventh Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is covertly given to understand, that howsoever a Prince -may make use of his absolute power and authority, towards Maides -or Wives that are his Subjects: yet he ought to deny and reject all -things, as shall make him forgetfull of himselfe, and his true honour.</i></h4> - - -<p>Madame <i>Fiammetta</i> being come to the end of her Novell, -and the great magnificence of King <i>Charles</i> much commended -(howbeit, some of the Company, affecting the -<i>Ghibelline</i> faction, were otherwise minded) Madame <i>Pampinea</i>, by -order given from the King, began in this manner.</p> - -<p>There is no man of good understanding (honourable Ladies) but -will maintaine what you have said of victorious <i>Charles</i>; except -such as cannot wish well to any. But because my memory hath -instantly informed me, of an action (perhaps) no lesse commendable -then this, done by an enemy of the said King <i>Charles</i>, and to a -young Maiden of our City; I am the more willing to relate it, upon -your gentle attention vouchsafed, as hitherto it hath been courteously -granted.</p> - -<p>At such time as the French were driven out of <i>Sicilie</i>, there -dwelt at <i>Palermo</i> a <i>Florentine</i> Apothecary, named <i>Bernardo Puccino</i>, -a man of good wealth and reputation, who had by his Wife -one onely Daughter, of marriageable yeares, and very beautifull. -<i>Piero</i>, King of <i>Arragon</i>, being then become Lord of that Kingdom, -he made an admirable Feast Royall at <i>Palermo</i>, accompanyed with -his Lords and Barons. In honour of which publique Feast, the -King kept a triumphall day (of Justs and Turnament) at <i>Catalana</i>, -and whereat it chanced, that the Daughter of <i>Bernardo</i>, named <i>Lisana</i>, -was present. Being in a window, accompanied with other -Gentlewomen, she saw the King runne at the Tilt, who seemed so -goodly a person in her eye; that being never satisfied with beholding -him, she grew enamoured, and fell into extremity of affection -towards him.</p> - -<p>When the Feastivall was ended, she dwelling in the house of her -Father, it was impossible for her to thinke on any thing else, but -onely the love, which she had fixed on a person of such height. -And that which most tormented her in this case, was the knowledge -of her owne condition, being but meane and humble in degree; -whereby she confessed, that she could not hope for any successefull -issue of her proud love. Neverthelesse, she would not refraine -from affecting the King, who taking no note of this kindnesse -in her, by any perceivable meanes; must needs be the more -regardles, which procured (by wary observation) her afflictions to -be the greater and intollerable.</p> - -<p>Whereon it came to passe, that this earnest love encreasing in -her more and more, and one melancholly conceit taking hold on -another: the faire Maide, when she could beare the burden of her -griefe no longer; fell into a languishing sickenesse, consuming away -daily (by evident appearance) even as the Snow melteth by -the warme beames of the Sunne.</p> - -<p>The Father and Mother, much dismayed and displeased at -this haplesse accident, applying her with continuall comforts, Phisicke, -and the best skill remayning in all the Phisitions, sought all -possible meanes wayes to give her succour: but all proved to no effect, -because in regard of her choyce (which could sort to none -other then a desperate end) she was desirous to live no longer. Now -it fortuned, that her parents offering her whatsoever remained in -their power to performe, a sudden apprehension entred her minde, -to wit, that (if it might possible be done) before she dyed, she would -first have the King to know, in what manner she stood affected to -him. Wherefore, one day she entreated her Father, that a Gentleman, -named <i>Manutio de Arezza</i>, might be permitted to come see -her. This <i>Manutio</i> was (in those times) held to be a most excellent -Musitian, both for his voyce in singing, and exquisite skill in playing -on Instruments, for which he was highly in favour with King -<i>Piero</i>, who made (almost) daily use of him, to heare him both sing -and play.</p> - -<p>Her tender and loving father conceived immediately, that shee -was desirous to heare his playing and singing, both being comfortable -to a body in a languishing sickenesse, whereupon, he sent presently -for the Gentleman, who came accordingly, and after he had -comforted <i>Lisana</i> with kind and courteous speeches; he played -dexteriously on his Lute, which purposely hee had brought with -him, and likewise he sung divers excellent Ditties, which insted of -his intended consolation to the Maid, did nothing else but encrease -her fire and flame.</p> - -<p>Afterward, she requested to have some conference with <i>Manutio</i> -alone, and every one being gone forth of the Chamber, she -spake unto him in this manner.</p> - -<p><i>Manutio</i>, I have made choyce of thee, to be the faithfull Guardian -of an especiall secret, hoping first of al, that thou wilt never reveale it -to any living body, but onely to him whom I shall bid thee: And -next, to helpe me so much as possibly thou canst, because my onely -hope relyeth in thee. Know then my dearest friend <i>Manutio</i>, that -on the solemne festivall day, when our Soveraigne Lord the King -honoured his exaltation, with the noble exercises of Tilt and Turney; -his brave behaviour kindled such a sparke in my soule, as since -brake forth into a violent flame, and brought me to this weake condition -as now thou seest. But knowing and confessing, how farre -unbeseeming my love is, to aime so ambitiously at a King, and being -unable to controule it, or in the least manner to diminish it: -I have made choyce of the onely and best remedy of all, namely, -to dye, and so I am most willing to doe.</p> - -<p>True it is, that I shall travaile in this my latest journey, with endlesse -torment and affliction of soule, except he have some understanding -thereof before, and not knowing by whom to give him intelligence, -in so oft and convenient order, as by thee: I doe therefore -commit this last office of a friend to thy trust, desiring thee, not -to refuse me in the performance thereof. And when thou hast -done it, to let me understand what he saith, that I may dye the -more contentedly, and disburdened of so heavy an oppression, the -onely comfort to a parting spirit: and so she ceased, her teares flowing -forth abundantly.</p> - -<p><i>Manutio</i> did not a little wonder at the Maides great spirit, and -her desperate resolution, which moved him to exceeding commiseration, -and suddenly he conceived, that honestly he might discharge -this duty for her, whereupon, he returned her this answer. -<i>Lisana</i>, here I engage my faith to thee, that thou shalt find me firme -and constant, and die I will, rather then deceive thee. Greatly I doe -commend thy high attempt, in fixing thy affection on so Potent -a King, wherein I offer thee my utmost assistance: and I make no -doubt (if thou wouldest be of good comfort) to deale in such sort, -as, before three dayes are fully past, to bring such newes as will content -thee, and because I am loath to loose the least time, I will goe about -it presently. <i>Lisana</i> the young Maiden, once againe entreated -his care and diligence, promising to comfort her selfe so well as she -could, commending him to his good fortune. When <i>Manutio</i> was -gone from her, hee went to a Gentleman, named <i>Mico de -Sienna</i>, one of the best Poets in the composing of verses, as all those -parts yeelded not the like. At his request, <i>Mico</i> made for him this -ensuing Dittie.</p> - - -<h4>The Song sung in the hearing of -King <i>Piero</i>, on the behalfe of Love-sicke -<i>Lisana.</i></h4> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i5">Goe Love, and tell the torments I endure,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Say to my Soveraigne Lord, that I must die<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Except he come, some comfort to procure,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">For tell I may not, what I feele, and why.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">With heaved hands Great Love, I call to thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Goe see my Soveraigne, where he doth abide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And say to him, in what extremity,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou hast (for him) my firm affection tryed.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To die for him, it is my sole desire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For live with him I may not, nor aspire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To have my fortunes thereby dignified,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Onely his sight would lend me life a while:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grant it (great love) mine anguish to beguile.<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Goe love and tell the torments, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Since the first houre that love enthralled me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I never had the heart, to tell my griefe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My thoughts did speake, for thoughts be alwayes free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet hopefull thoughts doe find but poore reliefe.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When Gnats will mount to Eagles in the ayre,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alas! they scorne them, for full well they know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They were not bred to prey so base and low,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Aloft they look, to make their flight more faire.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And yet his sight would lend me life a while:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grant it (great love) mine anguish to beguile.<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Goe love, and tell the torments, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">If sight shall be denyed, then tell them plaine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His high triumphall day procurd my death,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Launce that won him Honour, hath me slaine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For instantly it did bereave my breath.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That speake I could not, nor durst be so bold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To make the Ayre acquainted with my woe:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alas! I lookt so high, and doing so,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Justly deserve by death to be controld.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet mercies sight would lend me life a while,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grant it (great love) mine anguish to beguile.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i5">Goe love, and tell the torments I endure,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Say to my Soveraigne Lord, that I must die:<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Except he come, some comfort to procure,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">For tell I may not, what I feele, and why.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>The lines contained in this Ditty, <i>Manutio</i> fitted with noates so -mooving and singularly musicall, that every word had the sensible -motion of life in it, where the King being (as yet) not risen from the -Table, he commanded him to use both his Lute and voyce.</p> - -<p>This seemed a happy opportunity to <i>Manutio</i>, to sing the dittie -so purposely done and devised: which hee delivered in such excellent -manner, the voice and Instrument concording so extraordinary -pleasing; that all the persons then in the Presence, seemed rather -Statues, then living men, so strangely they were wrapt with admiration, -and the King himselfe farre beyond all the rest, transported -with a rare kinde of alteration.</p> - -<p>When <i>Manutio</i> had ended the Song, the King demanded of him, -whence this Song came, because he had never heard it before? My -gracious Lord, answered <i>Manutio</i>, it must needes seeme straunge to -your Majesty, because it is not fully three dayes, since it was invented, -made, and set to the note. Then the King asked, whom it concerned? -Sir (quoth <i>Manutio</i>) I dare not disclose that to any but -onely your selfe. Which answer made the King much more desirous, -and being risen from the Table, he tooke him into his Bed-chamber, -where <i>Manutio</i> related all at large to him, according to -the trust reposed in him. Wherewith the King was wonderfully -well pleased, greatly commending the courage of the Maide, and -said, that a Virgin of such a valiant spirit, did well deserve to have -her case commiserated: and commanded him also, to goe (as sent -from him) and comfort her, with promise, that the very same day, in -the evening, he would not faile to come and see her.</p> - -<p><i>Manutio</i>, more then contented, to carry such glad tydings to <i>Lisana</i>; -without staying in any place, and taking his Lute also with -him, went to the Apothecaries house, where speaking alone with -the Maide: he told her what he had done, and afterward sung the -song to her, in as excellent manner as he had done before, wherein -<i>Lisana</i> conceived such joy and contentment, as even in the very -same moment, it was observed by apparant signes, that the violence -of her fits forsooke her, and health began to get the upper hand of -them. So, without suffering any one in the house to know it, or by -the least meanes to suspect it; she comforted her selfe till the evening, -in expectation of her Soveraignes arrivall.</p> - -<p><i>Piero</i> being a Prince, of most liberall and benigne nature, having -afterward divers times considered on the matters which <i>Manutio</i> -had revealed to him, knowing also the young Maiden, to bee both -beautifull and vertuous: was so much moved with pitty of her extremitie, -as mounting on horse-backe in the evening, and seeming -as if he rode abroad for his private recreation; he went directly to -the Apothecaries house, where desiring to see a goodly garden, appertaining -then to the Apothecarie, he dismounted from his horse. -Walking into the garden, he began to question with <i>Bernardo</i>, demaunding -him for his Daughter, and whether he had (as yet) marryed -her, or no? My Gracious Lord, answered <i>Bernardo</i>, as yet shee -is not marryed, neither likely to bee, in regard shee hath had a long -and tedious sickenesse: but since Dinner time, she is indifferently -eased of her former violent paine, which we could not discerne the -like alteration in her, a long while before.</p> - -<p>The King understood immediately, the reason of this so sudden -alteration, and said. In good faith <i>Bernardo</i>, the world would sustaine -a great maine & imperfection, by the losse of thy faire daughter; -wherefore, we will goe our selfe in person to visite her. So, with -two of his Lords onely, and the Father, he ascended to the Maides -Chamber & being entred, he went to the Beds side, where she sate, -somewhat raised, in expectation of his comming, and taking her by -the hand, he said. Faire <i>Lisana</i>, how commeth this to passe? You being -so faire a Virgin, young, and in the delicacy of your daies, which -should be the chiefest comfort to you, will you suffer your selfe to -be over-awed with sickenesse? Let us intreat you, that (for our sake) -you will be of good comfort, and thereby recover your health the -sooner, especially, when it is requested by a King, who is sorry to see -so bright a beauty sicke, and would helpe it, if it consisted in his -power.</p> - -<p><i>Lisana</i>, feeling the touch of his hand, whom she loved above all -things else in the world, although a bashfull blush mounted up into -her cheekes: yet her heart was seazed with such a rapture of pleasure, -that she thought her selfe translated into Paradise, and, so well -as she could, thus she replyed. Great King, by opposing my feeble -strength, against a burden of over-ponderous weight, it became the -occasion of this grievous sickenesse: but I hope that the violence -thereof is (almost) already kild, onely by this soveraigne mercy in -you; and doubtlesse it will cause my speedy deliverance. The King -did best understand this so well palliated answere of <i>Lisana</i>, which -as he did much commend, in regard of her high adventuring; so -he did againe as greatly condemne Fortune, for not making her -more happy in her birth.</p> - -<p>So, after he had stayed there a good while, and given her many -comfortable speeches, he returned backe to the Court. This humanity -in the King, was reputed a great honour to the Apothecary -and his daughter, who (in her owne mind) received as much joy and -contentment thereby, as ever any wife could have of her owne -Husband.</p> - -<p>And being assisted by better hopes, within a short while after, -she became recovered, and farre more beautifull (in common judgment) -then ever she was before.</p> - -<p><i>Lisana</i> being now in perfect health, the King consulted with his -Queene, what meete recompence he should gratifie her withall, -for loving and affecting him in such fervent manner. Upon a day -determined, the King mounting on horsebacke, accompanied with -many of his cheefest Lords and Barons, he rode to the Apothecaries -house, where walking in his beautifull Garden, hee called for -<i>Bernardo</i> and his daughter <i>Lisana</i>. In the meane space, the Queene -also came thither, Royally attended on by her Ladies, and <i>Lisana</i> -being admitted into their company, they expressed themselves very -gracious to her. Soone after, the King and the Queene cald <i>Lisana</i>, -and the King spake in this manner to her.</p> - -<p>Faire Virgin, the extraordinary love which you bare to us, calleth -for as great honour from us to you; in which respect, it is our -Royall desire, by one meanes or other to requite your kinde Love. -In our opinion, the chiefe honour we can extend to you, is, that being -of sufficient yeares for marriage, you would grace us so much, -as to accept him for your Husband, whom we intend to bestow on -you. Beside this further grant from us, that (notwithstanding whatsoever -else) you shall call us your Knight; without coveting any -thing else from you, for so great favour, but only one kisse, and -thinke not to bestow it nicely on a King, but grant it the rather, because -he begges it.</p> - -<p><i>Lisana</i>, whose lookes, were dyed with a vermillian tincture, or -rather converted into a pure maiden blush, reputing the Kings desire -to be her owne; in a low and humbled voyce, thus answered. -My Lord, most certaine am I, that if it had beene publikely knowne, -how none but your highnes, might serve for me to fixe my love on, -I should have been termed the foole of all fooles: they perhaps beleeving, -that I was forgetfull of my selfe, in being ignorant of mine -owne condition, and much lesse of yours. But the Gods are my witnesses -(because they know the secrets of all hearts) that even in the -very instant, when Loves fire tooke hold on my yeelding affection: -I knew you to be a King, and my selfe the daughter of poore <i>Bernardo</i> -the Apothecary: likewise, how farre unfitting it was for me, to -be so ambitious in my loves presuming. But I am sure your Majestie -doth know (much better then I am able to expresse) that no one -becommeth amourous, according to the duty of election, but as the -appetite shapeth his course, against whose lawes my strength made -many resistances, which not prevailing, I presumed to love, did, and -so for ever shall doe, your Majestie.</p> - -<p>Now Royall Soveraigne, I must needes confesse, that so soone as -I felt my selfe thus wholly conquered by loving you, I resolved for -ever after, to make your will mine owne, and therefore, am not onely -willing to accept him for my Husband, whom you shall please to -appoint, befitting my honour and degree: but if you will have me to -live in a flaming fire, my obedience shall sacrifice it selfe to your -will, with the absolute conformity of mine owne. To stile you by -the name of my Knight, whom I know to be my lawfull King and -Soveraigne; you are not ignorant, how farre unfitting a word that -were for me to use: As also the kisse which you request, in requitall -of my love to you; to these two I wil never give consent, without -the Queenes most gracious favour and license first granted. Neverthelesse, -for such admirable benignity used to me, both by your -Royall selfe, and your vertuous Queene: heaven shower downe all -boundlesse graces on you both, for it exceedeth all merit in me, and -so she ceased speaking, in most dutifull manner.</p> - -<p>The answer of <i>Lisana</i> pleased the Queene exceedingly, in finding -her to be so wise and faire, as the King himself had before informed -her: who instantly called for her Father and Mother, and knowing -they would be well pleased with whatsoever he did; he called for a -proper young Gentleman, but some what poore, being named <i>Perdicano</i>, -and putting certaine Rings into his hand, which he refused -not to receive, caused him there to espouse <i>Lisana</i>. To whome the -King gave immediately (besides Chaines and Jewels of inestimable -valew, delivered by the Queene to the Bride) <i>Ceffala</i> and <i>Calatabelotta</i>, -two great territories abounding in divers wealthy possessions, -saying to <i>Perdicano</i>. These wee give thee, as a dowry in marriage -with this beautifull Maid, and greater gifts we will bestow on thee -hereafter, as we shal perceive thy love and kindnesse to her.</p> - -<p>When he had ended these words, hee turned to <i>Lisana</i>, saying: -Heere doe I freely give over all further fruits of your affection towards -me, thanking you for your former love: so taking her head -betweene his hands, he kissed her faire forhead, which was the usuall -custome in those times. <i>Perdicano</i>, the Father and Mother of -<i>Lisana</i>, and she her selfe likewise, extraordinarily joyfulll for this so -fortunate a marriage, returned humble and hearty thankes both to -the King and Queene, and (as many credible Authors doe affirme) -the King kept his promise made to <i>Lisana</i>, because (so long as he lived) -he alwaies termed himselfe by the name of her Knight, and in -al actions of Chivalry by him undertaken, he never carried any other -devise, but such as he received still from her.</p> - -<p>By this, and divers other like worthy deeds, not onely did he win -the hearts of his subjects; but gave occasion to the whole world beside, -to renowne his fame to all succeeding posterity. Whereto (in -these more wretched times of ours) few or none bend the sway of -their understanding: but rather how to bee cruell and tyrranous -Lords, and thereby win the hatred of their people.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Sophronia_thinking_her_selfe_to_be_the_maried_wife_of_Gisippus_was" id="Sophronia_thinking_her_selfe_to_be_the_maried_wife_of_Gisippus_was">Sophronia, <i>thinking her selfe to be the maried wife of</i> Gisippus, <i>was -(indeed) the wife of</i> Titus Quintus Fulvius, <i>& departed thence with -him to Rome. Within a while after,</i> Gisippus <i>also came thither in very -poore condition, and thinking that he was despised by</i> Titus, <i>grew weary -of his life, and confessed that he had murdred a man, with full intent -to die for the fact. But</i> Titus <i>taking knowledge of him, and desiring to -save the life of</i> Gisippus, <i>charged himself to have done the bloody deed. -Which the murderer himself (standing then among the multitude) seeing, -truly confessed the deed. By meanes whereof, all three were delivered -by the Emperor</i> Octavius; <i>and</i> Titus <i>gave his Sister in mariage to</i> -Gisippus, <i>giving them also the most part of his goods & inheritances.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The eight Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Declaring, that notwithstanding the frownes of Fortune, diversity -of occurrences, and contrary accidents happening: yet love and friendship -ought to be preciously preserved among men.</i></h4> - - -<p>By this time Madam <i>Philomena</i>, at command of the King, -(Madam <i>Pampinea</i> ceasing) prepared to follow next in -order, whereupon thus she began. What is it (Gracious -Ladies) that Kings can not do (if they list) in matters of greatest importance, -and especially unto such as most they should declare their -magnificence? He then that performeth what he ought to do, when -it is within his owne power, doth well. But it is not so much to bee -admired, neither deserveth halfe the commendations, as when one -man doth good to another, when least it is expected, as being out of -his power, and yet performed. In which respect, because you have -so extolled king <i>Piero</i>, as appearing not meanly meritorious in your -judgements; I make no doubt but you will be much more pleased, -when the actions of our equals are duly considered, and shal paralell -any of the greatest Kings. Wherefore I purpose to tell you a -Novel, concerning an honourable curtesie of two worthy friends.</p> - -<p>At such time as <i>Octavius Cæsar</i> (not as yet named <i>Augustus</i>, but -only in the office called <i>Triumveri</i>) governed the <i>Romane</i> Empire, -there dwelt in <i>Rome</i> a Gentleman, named <i>Publius Quintus Fulvius</i>, -a man of singular understanding, who having one son, called <i>Titus -Quintus Fulvius</i>, of towardly yeares and apprehension, sent him to -<i>Athens</i> to learne Philosophy; but with letters of familiar commendations, -to a Noble <i>Athenian</i> Gentleman, named <i>Chremes</i>, being his -ancient friend, of long acquaintance. This Gentleman lodged <i>Titus</i> -in his owne House, as companion to his son, named <i>Gisippus</i>, both of -them studying together, under the tutoring of a Philosopher, called -<i>Aristippus</i>. These two young Gentlemen living thus in one City, -House, and Schoole, it bred betweene them such a brother-hoode -and amity, as they could not be severed from one another; but only -by the accident of death; nor could either of them enjoy any content, -but when they were both together in company.</p> - -<p>Being each of them endued with gentle spirits, and having begun -their studies together: they arose (by degrees) to the glorious height -of Philosophy, to their much admired fame and commendation. In -this manner they lived, to the no meane comfort of <i>Chremes</i>, hardly -distinguishing the one from the other for his Son, & thus the Scholars -continued the space of three yeares. At the ending whereof (as it -hapneth in al things else) <i>Chremes</i> died, whereat both the young -Gentlemen conceived such hearty griefe, as if he had bin their common -father; nor could the kinred of <i>Chremes</i> discerne, which of the -two had most need of comfort, the losse touched them so equally.</p> - -<p>It chanced within some few months after, that the kinred of <i>Gisippus</i> -came to see him, and (before <i>Titus</i>) avised him to marriage, and -with a young Gentlewoman of singular beauty, derived from a most -noble house in <i>Athens</i>, and she named <i>Sophronia</i>, aged about fifteen -years. This mariage drawing neere, <i>Gisippus</i> on a day, intreated <i>Titus</i> -to walk along with him thither, because (as yet) he had not seene -her. Comming to the house, and she sitting in the midst betweene -them, <i>Titus</i> making himselfe a considerator of beauty, & especially -on his friends behalfe; began to observe her very judicially, & every -part of her seemed so pleasing in his eie, that giving them al a privat -praise, yet answerable to their due deserving; he becam so enflamed -with affection to her, as never any lover could bee more violentlie -surprized, so sodainly doth beauty beguile our best senses.</p> - -<p>After they had sate an indifferent while with her, they returned -home to their lodging, where <i>Titus</i> being alone in his chamber, began -to bethink himselfe on her, whose perfections had so powerfully -pleased him: and the more he entred into this consideration, the -fiercer he felt his desires enflamed, which being unable to quench, -by any reasonable perswasions, after hee had vented foorth infinite -sighes, thus he questioned with himselfe.</p> - -<p>Most unhappie <i>Titus</i> as thou art, whether doost thou transport -thine understanding, love, and hope? Dooest thou not know as -well by the honourable favours, which thou hast received of <i>Chremes</i> -and his house, as also the intire amity betweene thee and <i>Gisippus</i> -(unto whom faire <i>Sophronia</i> is the affianced friend) that thou -shouldst holde her in the like reverent respect, as if shee were thy -true borne Sister? Darest thou presume to fancie her? Whether -shall beguiling Love allure thee, and vaine immaging hopes carrie -thee? Open the eyes of thy better understanding, and acknowledge -thy selfe to bee a most miserable man. Give way to reason, -bridle thine intemperate appetites, reforme all irregulare desires, -and guide thy fancy to a place of better direction. Resist thy wanton -and lascivious will in the beginning, and be master of thy selfe, -while thou hast opportunity, for that which thou aimest at, is neither -reasonable nor honest. And if thou wert assured to prevaile upon -this pursuite, yet thou oughtst to avoide it, if thou hast any regard -of true friendship, and the duty therein justly required. What -wilt thou do then <i>Titus</i>? Fly from this inordinate affection, if thou -wilt be reputed to be a man of sensible judgement.</p> - -<p>After he had thus discoursed with himselfe, remembring <i>Sophronia</i>, -and converting his former allegations, into a quite contrarie -sense, in utter detestation of them, and guided by his idle appetite, -thus he began againe. The lawes of love are of greater force, then any -other whatsoever, they not only breake the bands of friendship, -but even those also of more divine consequence. How many times -hath it bin noted, the father to affect his own daughter, the brother -his sister, and the stepmother her son in law, matters far more monstrous, -then to see one friend love the wife of another, a case happening -continually? Moreover, I am young, and youth is wholly subjected -to the passions of Love: is it reasonable then, that those should -be bard from me, which are fitting and pleasing to Love? Honest -things, belong to men of more years and maturity, then I am troubled -withall, and I can covet none, but onely those wherein Love is -directer. The beauty of <i>Sophronia</i> is worthy of generall love, and if I -that am a youngman do love her, what man living can justly reprove -me for it? Shold not I love her, because she is affianced to <i>Gisippus</i>? -That is no matter to me, I ought to love her, because she is a woman, -and women were created for no other occasion, but to bee Loved. -Fortune had sinned in this case, and not I, in directing my friends affection -to her, rather then any other; and if she ought to be loved, as -her perfections do challenge, <i>Gisippus</i> understanding that I affect -her, may be the better contented that it is I, rather then any other.</p> - -<p>With these, and the like crosse entercourses, he often mockt himselfe, -falling into the contrary, and then to this againe, and from the -contrary, into another kind of alteration, wasting and consuming -himselfe, not only this day and the night following, but many more -afterward, til he lost both his feeding & sleepe, so that through debility -of body, he was constrained to keepe his bed. <i>Gisippus</i>, who had -divers dayes noted his melancholly disposition, and now his falling -into extreamitie of sicknesse, was very sorry to behold it: and with -all meanes and inventions he could devise to use, hee both questioned -the cause of this straunge alteration, and essayed everie way, -how hee might best comfort him, never ceassing to demaunde -a reason, why he should become thus sad and sickely. But <i>Titus</i> -after infinite importuning, which still he answered with idle and frivolous -excuses, farre from the truth indeede, and (to the no meane -affliction of his friend) when he was able to use no more contradictions; -at length, in sighes and teares, thus he replyed.</p> - -<p><i>Gisippus</i>, were the Gods so wel pleased, I could more gladly yeild -to dye, then continue any longer in this wretched life, considering, -that Fortune hath brought mee to such an extremity, as proofe is -now to be made of my constancie and vertue; both which I finde -conquered in me, to my eternall confusion and shame. But my best -hope is, that I shal shortly be requited, as I have in justice deserved, -namely with death, which will be a thousand times more welcome -to me, then a loathed life, with remembrance of my base dejection -in courage, which because I can no longer conceale from thee; not -without blushing shame, I am well contented for to let thee know -it.</p> - -<p>Then began hee to recount, the whole occasion of this straunge -conflict in him, what a maine battaile hee had with his private -thoughts, confessing that they got the victory, causing him to die -hourely for the love of <i>Sophronia</i>, and affirming withall, that in due -acknowledgement, how greatly hee had transgressed against the -lawes of friendship, he thought no other penance sufficient for him, -but onely death, which he willingly expected every houre, and with -all his heart would gladly bid welcome.</p> - -<p><i>Gisippus</i> hearing this discourse, and seeing how <i>Titus</i> bitterly -wept, in agonies of most moving afflictions: sat an indifferent while -sad and pensive, as being wounded with affection to <i>Sophronia</i>, but -yet in a well-governed and temperate manner. So, without any -long delaying, hee concluded with himselfe; that the life of his -friend ought to be accounted much more deare, then any love hee -could beare unto <i>Sophronia</i>: And in this resolution, the teares of -<i>Titus</i> forcing his eyes to flow forth like two Fountaines, thus he replyed.</p> - -<p><i>Titus</i>, if thou hadst not neede of comfort, as plainly I see thou -hast, I would justly complaine of thee to my selfe, as of the man -who hath violated our friendship, in keeping thine extreamitie so -long time concealed from mee, which hath beene over-tedious for -thee to endure. And although it might seeme to thee a dishonest -case, and therefore kept from the knowledge of thy friend, yet I -plainly tell thee, that dishonest courses (in the league of amitie) deserve -no more concealment, then those of the honestest nature. But -leaving these impertinent wandrings, let us come to them of much -greater necessitie.</p> - -<p>If thou doest earnestly love faire <i>Sophronia</i>, who is betroathed -and affianced to me, it is no matter for me to marvaile at: but I -should rather be much abashed, if thou couldst not intyrely affect -her, knowing how beautifull she is, and the nobility of her minde, -being as able to sustaine passion, as the thing pleasing is fullest of -excellence. And looke how reasonably thou fanciest <i>Sophronia</i>, as -unjustly thou complainest of thy fortune, in ordaining her to be -my wife, although thou doest not speake it expresly: as being of opinion, -that thou mightest with more honesty love her, if she were any -others, then mine. But if thou art so wise, as I have alwayes held -thee to be, tell me truely upon thy faith, to whom could Fortune -better guide her, and for which thou oughtest to be more thankfull, -then in bestowing her on me? Any other that had enjoyed her, although -thy love were never so honest, yet he would better affect -her himselfe, then for thee, which thou canst not (in like manner) -looke for from me, if thou doest account me for thy friend, and as -constant now as ever.</p> - -<p>Reason is my warrant in this case, because I cannot remember, -since first our entrance into friendship, that ever I enjoyed any -thing, but it was as much thine, as mine. And if our affaires had -such an equall course before, as otherwise they could not subsist; -must they not now be kept in the same manner? Can any thing -more perticularly appertaine to me, but thy right therein is as absolute -as mine? I know not how thou maist esteeme of my friendship, if in -any thing concerning my selfe, I can plead my priviledge -to be above thine. True it is, that <i>Sophronia</i> is affianced to me, and -I love her dearely, daily expecting when our nuptials shall be celebrated. -But seeing thou doest more fervently affect her, as being -better able to judge of the perfections, remaining in so excellent a -creature as she is, then I doe: assure thy selfe, and beleeve it constantly, -that she shall come to my bed, not as my wife, but onely -thine. And therefore leave these despairing thoughts, shake off -this cloudy disposition, reassume thy former Joviall spirit, with -comfort and what else can content thee: in expectation of the happy -houre, and the just requitall of thy long, loving, and worthy -friendship, which I have alwayes valued equall with mine owne -life.</p> - -<p><i>Titus</i> hearing this answer of <i>Gisippus</i>, looke how much the sweet -hope of that which he desired gave him pleasure, as much both duty -and reason affronted him with shame; setting before his eyes -this du consideration, that the greater the liberality of <i>Gisippus</i> was, -farre greater and unreasonable it appeared to him in disgrace, if hee -should unmannerly accept it. Wherefore, being unable to refrain -from teares, and with such strength as his weaknesse would give -leave, thus he replyed.</p> - -<p><i>Gisippus</i>, thy bounty and firme friendship suffereth me to see apparantly, -what (on my part) is no more then ought to be done. All -the Gods forbid, that I should receive as mine, her whom they have -adjudged to be thine, by true respect of birth and desert. For if they -had thought her a wife fit for me, doe not thou or any else imagine, -that ever she should have beene granted to thee. Use freely therefore -thine owne election, and the gracious favour wherewith they -have blessed thee: leave me to consume away in teares, a mourning -garment by them appointed for me, as being a man unworthy of -such happinesse; for either I shall conquer this disaster, and that wil -be my crowne, or else will vanquish me, and free me from all paine: -whereto <i>Gisippus</i> presently thus answered.</p> - -<p>Worthy <i>Titus</i>, if our amity would give me so much licence, as -but to contend with my selfe, in pleasing thee with such a thing as I -desire, and could also induce thee therein to be directed: it is the -onely end whereat I aime, and am resolved to pursue it. In which -regard, let my perswasions prevaile with thee, and thereto I conjure -thee, by the faith of a friend, suffer me to use mine authority, when -it extendeth both to mine owne honour, and thy good, for I will -have <i>Sophronia</i> to bee onely thine. I know sufficiently, how -farre the forces of love doe extend in power, and am not ignorant -also, how not once or twice, but very many times, they have -brought lovers to unfortunate ends, as now I see thee very neere it, -and so farre gone, as thou art not able to turne backe againe, nor yet -to conquer thine owne teares, but proceeding on further in this extremity, -thou wilt be left vanquished, sinking under the burthen of -loves tyrannicall oppression, and then my turne is next to follow -thee. And therefore, had I no other reason to love thee, yet because -thy life is deare to me, in regard of mine owne depending -thereon; I stand the neerer thereto obliged. For this cause, <i>Sophronia</i> -must and shal be thine, for thou canst not find any other so conforme -to thy fancy: albeit I who can easily convert my liking to another -wife, but never to have the like friend againe, shall hereby -content both thee, and my selfe.</p> - -<p>Yet perhaps this is not a matter so easily done, or I to expresse -such liberality therein, if wives were to be found with the like difficultie, -as true and faithfull friends are: but, (being able to recover -another wife) though never such a worthy friend; I rather chuse to -change, I doe not say loose her (for in giving her to thee, I loose her -not my selfe) and by this change, make that which was good before, -tenne times better, and so preserve both thee and my selfe. To this -end therefore, if my prayers and perswasions have any power with -thee, I earnestly entreat thee, that, by freeing thy selfe out of this affliction, -thou wilt (in one instant) make us both truely comforted, -and dispose thy selfe (living in hope) to embrace that happinesse, -which the fervent love thou bearest to <i>Sophronia</i>, hath justly deserved.</p> - -<p>Now although <i>Titus</i> was confounded with shame, to yeeld consent, -that <i>Sophronia</i> should be accepted as his wife, and used many -obstinate resistances: yet notwithstanding, Love pleading on the -one side powerfully, and <i>Gisippus</i> as earnestly perswading on the other, thus -he answered. <i>Gisippus</i>, I know not what to say, neither -how to behave my selfe in this election, concerning the fitting of -mine contentment, or pleasing thee in thy importunate perswasion. -But seeing thy liberality is so great, as it surmounteth all reason or -shame in me, I will yeeld obedience to thy more then noble nature. -Yet let this remaine for thine assurance, that I doe not receive this -grace of thine, as a man not sufficiently understanding, how I enjoy -from thee, not onely her whom most of all I doe affect, but also doe -hold my very life of thee. Grant then you greatest Gods (if you -be the Patrones of this mine unexpected felicitie) that with honour -and due respect, I may hereafter make apparantly knowne: how -highly I acknowledge this thy wonderfull favour, in being more -mercifull to me, then I could be to my selfe.</p> - -<p>For abridging of all further circumstances, answered <i>Gisippus</i>, -and for easier bringing this matter to full effect, I hold this to be -our onely way. It is not unknowne to thee, how after much discourse -had between my kindred, and those belonging to <i>Sophronia</i>, -the matrimoniall conjunction was fully agreed on, and therefore, -if now I shall flye off, and say, I will not accept thee as my wife: -great scandall would arise thereby, and make much trouble among -our friends, which could not be greatly displeasing to me, if that -were the way to make her thine. But I rather stand in feare, that if -I forsake her in such peremptory sort, her kinred and friends will -bestow her on some other, and so she is utterly lost, without all possible -meanes of recovery. For prevention therefore of all sinister -accidents, I thinke it best, (if thy opinion jumpe with mine) that I -still pursue the busines, as already I have begun, having thee alwaies -in my company, as my dearest friend and onely associate. The nuptials -being performed with our friends, in secret manner at night (as -we can cunningly enough contrive it) thou shalt have her maiden -honour in bed, even as if she were thine owne wife. Afterward, -in apt time and place, we will publiquely make knowne what -is done; if they take it well, we will be as jocond as they: if they -frowne and waxe offended, the deed is done, over-late to be recalled, -and so perforce they must rest contented.</p> - -<p>You may well imagine, this advise was not a little pleasing to -<i>Titus</i>, whereupon <i>Gisippus</i> received home <i>Sophronia</i> into his house, -with publike intention to make her his wife, according as was the -custome then observed, and <i>Titus</i> being perfectly recovered, was -present at the Feast very ceremonially observed. When night was -come, the Ladies and Gentlewomen conducted <i>Sophronia</i> to the -Bride-Chamber, where they left her in her Husbands bed, and then -departed all away. The Chamber wherein <i>Titus</i> used to lodge, joyned -close to that of <i>Gisippus</i>, for their easier accesse each to the other, -at all times whensoever they pleased, and <i>Gisippus</i> being alone -in the Bride-Chamber, preparing as if he were comming to bed: -extinguishing the light, he went softly to <i>Titus</i>, willing him to goe -to bed to his wife. Which <i>Titus</i> hearing, overcome with shame -and feare, became repentant, and denyed to goe. But <i>Gisippus</i>, being -a true intyre friend indeed, and confirming his words with actions: -after a little lingering dispute, sent him to the Bride, and so soone as -he was in the bed with her, taking <i>Sophronia</i> gently by the hand, -softly he moved the usuall question to her, namely, if she were willing -to be his wife.</p> - -<p>She beleeving verily that he was <i>Gisippus</i>, modestly answered. -Sir, I have chosen you to be my Husband, reason requires then, that -I should be willing to be your Wife. At which words, a costly -Ring, which <i>Gisippus</i> used daily to weare, he put upon her finger, -saying. With this Ring, I confesse my selfe to be your Husband, -and bind you (for ever) my Spouse and Wife; no other kind of -marriage was observed in those dayes; and so he continued all the -night with her, she never suspecting him to be any other then <i>Gisippus</i>, -and thus was the marriage consumated, betweene <i>Titus</i> and <i>Sophronia</i>, -albeit the friends (on either side) thought otherwise.</p> - -<p>By this time, <i>Publius</i>, the father of <i>Titus</i>, was departed out of this -mortall life, & letters came to <i>Athens</i>, that with all speed he should -returne to <i>Rome</i>, to take order for occasions there concerning him, -wherefore he concluded with <i>Gisippus</i> about his departure, and taking -<i>Sophronia</i> thither with him, which was no easie matter to be -done, until it were first known, how occasions had bin caried among -them. Wherupon, calling her one day into her Chamber, they told -her entirely, how all had past, which <i>Titus</i> confirmed substantially, -by such direct passages betweene themselves, as exceeded all possibility -of denyall, and moved in her much admiration; looking each -on other very discontentedly, she heavily weeping and lamenting, -& greatly complaining of <i>Gisippus</i>, for wronging her so unkindly.</p> - -<p>But before any further noyse was made in the house, shee went -to her Father, to whom, as also to her Mother, shee declared the -whole trecherie, how much both they and their other friends were -wronged by <i>Gisippus</i>, avouching her selfe to be the wife of <i>Titus</i>, -and not of <i>Gisippus</i>, as they supposed. These newes were highly -displeasing to the Father of <i>Sophronia</i>, who with hir kinred, as also -those of <i>Gisippus</i>, made great complaints to the Senate, very dangerous -troubles and commotions arising daily betweene them, drawing -both <i>Gisippus</i> and <i>Sophronia</i> into harsh reports; he being generally -reputed, not onely worthy of all bitter reproofe, but also the -severest punishment. Neverthelesse, hee maintained publikely -what he had done, avouching it for an act both of honour and honestie, -wherewith <i>Sophronia's</i> friends had no reason to bee offended, -but rather to take it in very thankfull part, having married a -man of farre greater worth and respect, than himselfe was, or -could be.</p> - -<p>On the other side, <i>Titus</i> hearing these uncivill acclamations, became -much moved and provoked at them, but knowing it was a custome -observed among the <i>Greekes</i>, to be so much the more hurried -away with rumours and threatnings, as lesse they finde them to be -answered, and when they finde them, shew themselves not onely -humble enough, but rather as base men, and of no courage; he resolved -with himselfe, that their braveries were no longer to be endured, -without some some bold and manly answere. And having a -Romane heart, as also an Athenian understanding, by politique -perswasions, he caused the kinred of <i>Gisippus</i> and <i>Sophronia</i>, to be assembled -in a Temple, and himselfe comming thither, accompanied -with none but <i>Gisippus</i> onely, he began to deliver his minde before -them all, in this manner following.</p> - -<blockquote> - -<h4>The Oration uttered by <i>Titus Quintus Fulvius</i>, in the -hearing of the Athenians, being the kinred -and friends to <i>Gisippus</i> and <i>Sophronia</i>.</h4> - - -<p><i>Many Philosophers doe hold opinion, that the actions performed -by mortall men, doe proceed from the disposing and ordination -of the immortall gods. Whereupon some doe maintaine, that -things which be done, or never are to be done, proceed of necessity: howbeit -some other doe hold, that this necessity is onely referred to things -done. Both which opinions (if they be considered with mature judgment) -doe most manifestly approve, that they who reprehend any thing which is -irrevocable, doe nothing else but shew themselves, as if they were wiser -then the Gods, who we are to beleeve, that with perpetuall reason, and -void of any error, doe dispose and governe both us, and all our actions; -In which respect, how foolish and beast-like a thing it is, presumptuously -to checke or controule their operations, you may very easily consider; and -likewise, how justly they deserve condigne punishment, who suffer themselves -to be transported in so temerarious a manner.</i></p> - -<p><i>In which notorious transgression, I understand you all to be guiltie, if -common fame speake truely, concerning the marriage of my selfe and</i> Sophronia, -<i>whom you imagined as given to</i> Gisippus; <i>for you never remember -that it was so ordained from eternitie, shee to be mine, and no -Wife for</i> Gisippus, <i>as at this instant is made manifest by full effect. -But because the kinde of speaking, concerning divine providence, and -intention of the Gods, may seeme a difficult matter to many, and somewhat -hard to bee understood: I am content to presuppose, that they -meddle not with any thing of ours, and will onely stay my selfe on humane -reasons, and in this nature of speech, I shall be enforced to doe -two things, quite contrary to my naturall disposition. The one is, to -speake somewhat in praise and commendation of my selfe: And the other, -justly to blame and condemne other mens seeming estimation. But -because both in the one and the other, I doe not intend to swerve a -jot from the Truth, and the necessitie of the present case in question, -doth not onely require, but also command it, you must pardon what I -am to say.</i></p> - -<p><i>Your complaints doe proceed, rather from furie then reason, and (with -continuall murmurings, or rather seditious) slander, backe-bite and -condemne</i> Gisippus, <i>because (of his owne free will and noble disposition) -hee gave her to be my Wife, whom (by your election) was made -his; wherein I account him most highly praise-worthy: and the reasons -inducing mee thereunto, are these. The first, because he hath performed -no more then what a friend ought to doe: And the second, in regard he -hath dealt more wisely, then you did. I have no intention, to display (at -this present) what the sacred law of amitie requireth, to be acted by one -friend towards another, it shall suffice mee onely to informe you, that -the league of friendship (farre stronger then the bond of bloud and kinred) -confirmed us in our election of either at the first, to be true, loyall -and perpetuall friends; whereas that of kinred, commeth onely by fortune -or chance. And therefore if</i> Gisippus <i>affected more my life, then -your benevolence, I being ordained for his friend, as I confesse my selfe -to be; none of you ought to wonder thereat, in regard it is no matter of -mervaile.</i></p> - -<p><i>But let us come now to our second reason, wherein, with farre greater -instance I will shew you, that he hath (in this occasion) shewen himselfe to -be much more wise, then you did, or have done: because it plainely appeareth, -that you have no feeling of the divine providence, and much lesse -knowledge in the effects of friendship. I say, that your foresight, councell -and deliberation, gave</i> Sophronia <i>to</i> Gisippus, <i>a young Gentleman, and -a Philosopher:</i> Gisippus <i>likewise hath given her to a young Gentleman, -and a Philosopher, as himselfe is. Your discretion gave her to an Athenian; -the gift of</i> Gisippus, <i>is to a Romaine. Yours, to a Noble and honest -man; that of</i> Gisippus, <i>to one more Noble by race, and no lesse -honest then himselfe. Your judgement hath bestowed her on a rich young -man:</i> Gisippus <i>hath given her to one farre richer. Your wisedome -gave her to one who not onely loved her not, but also one that had no -desire to know her:</i> Gisippus <i>gave her unto him, who, above all felicitie -else, yea, more than his owne life, both entirely loved and desired -her.</i></p> - -<p><i>Now, for proofe of that which I have said, to be most true and infallible, -and that his deede deserveth to bee much more commended then -yours, let it bee duely considered on, point by point. That I am a young -man and a Philosopher, as</i> Gisippus <i>is; my yeares, face, and studies, -without seeking after further proofe, doth sufficiently testifie: One -selfe-same age is both his and mine, in like quality of course have wee -lived and studied together. True it is, that hee is an Athenian, and -I am a Romaine. But if the glory of these two Cities should bee disputed -on: then let mee tell you, that I am of a Citie that is Francke and -Free, and hee is of a Tributarie Citie. I say, that I am of a Citie, -which is chiefe Lady and Mistresse of the whole World, and hee is of a -Citie subject to mine. I say that I am of a Citie, that is strong in Arms, -Empire, and studies: whereas his can commend it selfe but for Studies -onely. And although you see me heere to bee a Scholler, in appearance -meane enough, yet I am not descended of the simplest stocke in -Rome.</i></p> - -<p><i>My houses and publique places, are filled with the ancient Statues of -my Predecessors, and the Annales recorde the infinite triumphs of the -Quintii, brought home by them into the Romane Capitole, and yeares -cannot eate out the glory of our name, but it will live and flourish to all -posteritie.</i></p> - -<p><i>Modest shame makes me silent in my wealth and possessions, my minde -truely telling mee, that honest contented povertie, is the most ancient and -richest inheritance, of our best and Noblest Romanes, which opinion, -if it bee condemned by the understanding of the ignorant multitude, -and heerein wee shall give way to them by preferring riches and worldly -treasures, then I can say that I am aboundantly provided, not as ambitious, -or greedily covetous, but sufficiently stored with the goods of -Fortune.</i></p> - -<p><i>I know well enough, that you held it as a desired benefit,</i> Gisippus -<i>being a Native of your Citie, should also be linked to you by alliance: -but I know no reason, why I should not be as neere and deere to you at -Rome, as if I lived with you heere. Considering, when I am there, you -have a ready and well wishing friend, to stead you in all beneficiall and -serviceable offices, as carefull and provident for your support, yea, a -protectour of you and your affaires, as well publique as particular. -Who is it then, not transported with partiall affection, that can (in -reason) more approve your act, then that which my friend</i> Gisippus -<i>hath done? Questionlesse, not any one, as I thinke.</i> Sophronia <i>is -married to</i> Titus Quintus Fulvius, <i>a Noble Gentleman by antiquitie, -a rich Citizen of Rome, and (which is above all) the friend of</i> Gisippus: -<i>therfore, such a one as thinkes it strange, is sorrie for it, or would -not have it to be; knoweth not what he doth.</i></p> - -<p><i>Perhaps there may be some, who will say, they doe not so much complain, -that</i> Sophronia <i>is the wife to</i> Titus; <i>but of the manner whereby -it was done, as being made his wife secretly, and by theft, not any of -her parents, kinred or friends called thereto: no, nor so much as advertised -thereof. Why Gentlemen, this is no miraculous thing, but -heeretofore hath oftentimes happened, and therefore no noveltie.</i></p> - -<p><i>I cannot count unto you, how many there have beene, who (against -the will of their Fathers) have made choice of their husbands; nor -them that have fled away with their lovers into strange Countries, being -first friends, before they were wives: nor of them who have sooner -made testimonie of marriage by their bellies, then those ceremonies -due to matrimonie, or publication thereof by the tongue; so that meere -necessity & constraint, hath forced the parents to yeeld consent: which -hath not so happened to</i> Sophronia, <i>for she was given to me by</i> Gisippus -<i>discreetly, honestly, and orderly.</i></p> - -<p><i>Others also may say, that shee is married to him, to whom it belonged -not to marrie her. These complaints are foolish, and womanish, -proceeding from verie little, or no consideration at all. In these daies -of ours, Fortune makes no use of novell or inconsiderate meanes, whereby -to bring matters to their determined effect. Why should it offend -me, if a Cobler, rather than a Scholler, hath ended a businesse of mine, -either in private or publique, if the end be well made? Well I may take -order, if the Cobler bee indiscreet, that hee meddle no more with any -matters of mine, yet I ought, in courtesie, to thanke him for that which -hee did.</i></p> - -<p><i>In like manner, if</i> Gisippus <i>hath married</i> Sophronia <i>well, it is -foolish and superfluous, to finde fault with the manner hee used in her -marriage. If you mislike his course in the case, beware of him hereafter, -yet thanke him because it is no worse.</i></p> - -<p><i>Neverthelesse, you are to understand, that I sought not by fraud or -deceit, (but onely by witte) any opportunitie, whereby any way to sullie -the honestie and cleere Nobilitie of your bloud, in the person of</i> Sophronia: -<i>for although in secret I made her my wife, yet I came not as an enemie, -to take her perforce, nor (like a ravisher) wronged her virginitie, to -blemish your noble titles, or despising your alliance. But fervently, enflamed -by her bright beauty, and incited also by her unparalleld vertues, -I shaped my course; knowing well enough, that if I tooke the ordinarie -way of wiving, by moving the question to you, I should never winne your -consent, as fearing, lest I would take her with me to Rome, and so conveigh -out of your sight, a Jewell by you so much esteemed, as she is.</i></p> - -<p><i>For this, and no other reason, did I presume to use the secret cunning -which now is openly made knowne unto you: and</i> Gisippus <i>disposed -himselfe thereunto, which otherwise hee never determined to have -done, in contracting the marriage for mee, and shee consenting to me -in his name.</i></p> - -<p><i>Moreover, albeit most earnestly I affected her, I sought to procure -your union, not like a lover, but as a true husband, nor would I immodestly -touch her, till first (as herselfe can testifie) with the words becomming -wedlocke, and the Ring also I espoused her, demanding of her, -if shee would accept mee as her husband, and shee answered mee, with -her full consent. Wherein, if it may seeme that shee was deceived, I am -not any way to be blamed, but she, for not demanding, what, and who -I was.</i></p> - -<p><i>This then is the great evill, the great offence, and the great injurie -committed by my friend</i> Gisippus, <i>and by mee as a Lover: that</i> Sophronia -<i>is secretly become the wife of</i> Titus Quintus Fulvius. <i>And for this -cause, like spies you watch him, threaten him daily, as if you intended to -teare him in pieces. What could you doe more, if hee had given her to a -man of the very vilest condition? to a villaine, to a slave? What prisons? -what fetters? Or what torments are sufficient for this fact? But -leaving these frivolous matters, let us come to discourse of more moment, -and better beseeming your attention.</i></p> - -<p><i>The time is come, that I may no longer continue heere, because</i> Publius -<i>my Father is dead, and I must needs returne to Rome, wherefore being -minded to take</i> Sophronia <i>thither with mee, I was the more willing -to acquaint you therewith, as also what else I have said, which otherwise -had still beene concealed from you. Nor can you but take it in good part, -if you be wise, and rest well contented with what is done: considering, if -I had any intention eyther to deceive, or otherwise wrong you; I could -have basely left her, and made a scorne both of her and you, you not having -any power to stay mee heere. But the Gods will never permitte that -any couragious Romane, should ever conceive so vile and degenerate a -thought.</i></p> - -<p>Sophronia, <i>by ordination of the Gods, by force of humane Lawes, and -by the laudable consent of my friend</i> Gisippus, <i>as also the powerfull -command of Love is mine. But you perchance, imagining your selves to -be wiser then the Gods, or any other men whatsoever; may thinke ill of -it, and more brutishly then beasts, condemne their working in two kinds, -which would be offensive to mee. The one is your detaining of</i> Sophronia -<i>from mee, of whom you have no power, but what pleaseth mee. The -other, is your bitter threatnings against</i> Gisippus <i>my deare friend, to -whom you are in duty obliged. In both which cases, how unreasonablie -soever you carrie your selves, I intend not at this time to presse any further. -But rather let mee counsell you like a friend, to cease your hatred -and disdaine, and suffer</i> Sophronia <i>to be delivered mee, that I may depart -contentedly from you as a kinsman, and (being absent) remaine your -friend: assuring you, that whether what is done shall please or displease -you, if you purpose to proceed any otherwise: I will take</i> Gisippus <i>along -with mee, and when I come to Rome, take such sure order, to fetch -her hence, who in Justice is mine, even in meere despight of you all, and -then you shall feele by sound experience, how powerfull is the just indignation -of the wronged Romanes.</i></p></blockquote> - -<hr class="tb" /> -<p>When Titus had thus concluded his Oration, he arose with -a sterne and discontented countenance, and tooke <i>Gisippus</i> -by the hand, plainly declaring, that he made small account -of all the rest that were in the Temple; and shaking his head -at them, rather menaced then any other wise seemed to care for -them.</p> - -<p>They which tarried, when they were gone, considering partly -on the reasons alleadged by <i>Titus</i>, and partly terrified by his latest -speeches; became induced, to like well of his alliance and amitie, as -(with common consent) they concluded: that it was much better -to accept <i>Titus</i> as their kinsman (seeing <i>Gisippus</i> had made manifest -refusall thereof) than to lose the kinred of the one, and procure -the hatred of the other. Wherefore they went to seeke <i>Titus</i>, and -said unto him, they were very well contented that <i>Sophronia</i> should -bee his Wife, hee their deare and loving kinsman, and <i>Gisippus</i> -to remaine their much respected friend. And embracing one another, -making a solemne feast, such as in the like cases is necessarilie -required, they departed from him, presently sending <i>Sophronia</i> -to him, who making a vertue of necessity, converted her -love (in short time after) to <i>Titus</i>, in as effectuall manner, as -formerly shee had done to <i>Gisippus</i>, and so was sent away with -him to Rome, where she was received and welcommed with very -great honour.</p> - -<p><i>Gisippus</i> remaining still at <i>Athens</i>, in small regard of eyther theirs -or his owne friends: not long after by meanes of sundry troublesome -Citizens; and partialities happening among the common -people, was banished from <i>Athens</i>, and hee, as also all his familie, -condemned to perpetuall exile: during which tempestuous time, -<i>Gisippus</i> was become not onely wretchedly poore, but wandred abroad -as a common begger; in which miserable condition he travelled -to <i>Rome</i>, to try if <i>Titus</i> would take any acknowledgement of -him. Understanding that he was living, and one most respected among -the Romanes, as being a great Commander and a Senator: -he enquired for the place where hee dwelt, and going to be neere -about his house, stayed there so long, till <i>Titus</i> came home, yet -not daring to manifest himselfe, or speake a word to him, in regard -of his poore and miserable estate, but strove to have him see -him, to the end, that hee might acknowledge and call him by -his name; notwithstanding, <i>Titus</i> passed by him without either -speech, or looking on him. Which when <i>Gisippus</i> perceived, and -making full account, that (at the least) he would remember him, in -regard of former courtesies, done to him: confounded with griefe -and desperate thoughts, hee departed thence, never meaning to see -him any more.</p> - -<p>Now, in regard it was night, he having eaten nothing all that day, -nor provided of one penny to buy him any food, wandred he knew -not whether, desiring rather to die than live; hee came at last to an -old ruinous part of the City, over-spred with briers and bushes, and -seldome resorted unto by any: where finding a hollow Cave or -vault, he entred into it, meaning there to weare away the comfortlesse -night, and laying himselfe downe on the hard ground, almost -starke naked, and without any warme garments, over-wearied with -weeping, at last he fell into a sleepe.</p> - -<p>It fortuned that two men, who had beene abroad the same night, -committing thefts and robberies together; somwhat very earlie in -the morning, came to the same Cave, intending there to share and -divide their booties, and difference happening betweene them -about it, hee that was the stronger person, slew there the other, -and then went away with the whole purchase.</p> - -<p><i>Gisippus</i> having heard and seene the manner of this accident, was -not a little joyfulll, because he had now found a way to death, without -laying any violent hand on himselfe; for life being very loathsome -to him, it was his only desire to die. Wherefore, he would not -budge from the place, but taried there so long, till the Sergeants -and Officers of Justice (by information of him that did the deede) -came thither well attended, and furiously ledde <i>Gisippus</i> thence to -prison.</p> - -<p>Being examined concerning this bloudy fact, he plainly confessed, -that hee himselfe had committed the murder, and afterward -would not depart from the Cave, but purposely stayed for apprehension, -as being truely toucht with compunction for so foule an -offence: upon which peremptorie confession, <i>Marcus Varro</i> being -then <i>Prætor</i>, gave sentence that he should be crucified on a Crosse, -as it was the usuall manner of death in those dayes. <i>Titus</i> chancing -to come at the same time into <i>Prætorium</i>, advisedly beholding -the face of the condemned man (as hee sate upon the bench) knew -him to bee <i>Gisippus</i>, not a little wondring at this strange accident, -the povertie of his estate, and what occasion should bring him thither, -especially in the questioning for his life, and before the Tribunall -of Justice.</p> - -<p>His soule earnestly thirsting, by all possible meanes to helpe and -defend him, and no other course could now be taken for safetie of -his life, but by accusing himselfe, to excuse and cleare the other of -the crime: hee stept from off the judgement bench, and crouding -through the throng to the Barre, called out to the <i>Prætor</i> in this -manner. <i>Marcus Varro</i>, recall thy sentence given on the condemned -man sent away, because hee is truely guiltlesse and innocent: -With one bloudie blow have I offended the Gods, by killing that -wretched man, whom the Serjeants found this morning slaine, -wherefore Noble <i>Prætor</i>, let no innocent mans bloud be shed for -it, but onely mine that have offended.</p> - -<p><i>Marcus Varro</i> stood like a man confounded with admiration, being -very sorrie, for that which the whole assistants had both seene -and heard, yet hee could not (with honour) desist from what must -needs be done, but would performe the Lawes severe injunction. -And sending for condemned <i>Gisippus</i> backe againe, in the presence -of <i>Titus</i>, thus he spake to him. How becamest thou so madly incensed, -as (without any torment inflicted on thee) to confesse an offence -by thee never committed? Art thou wearie of thy life? Thou -chargest thy selfe falsly, to be the person who this last night murdered -the man in the Cave, and there is another that voluntarily also -doth confesse his guiltinesse.</p> - -<p><i>Gisippus</i> lifting up his eyes, and perceiving it was <i>Titus</i>, conceived -immediately, that he had done this onely for his deliverance, -as one that remembred him sufficiently, and would not be ungratefull -for former kindnesses received. Wherefore, the teares flowing -abundantly down his cheekes, he said to the Judge <i>Varro</i>, it was -none but I that murdered the man, wherefore, I commiserate the -case of this Noble Gentleman <i>Titus</i>, who speakes now too late for -the safety of my life. <i>Titus</i> on the other side, said. Noble Prætor, -this man (as thou seest) is a stranger heere, and was found without -any weapon, fast asleepe by the dead body: thou mayst then easily -perceive, that meerely the miserable condition wherein he is, hath -made him desperate, and he would make mine offence the occasion -of his death. Absolve him, and send me to the Crosse, for none but -I have deserved to die for this fact.</p> - -<p><i>Varro</i> was amazed, to observe with what earnest instance each of -them strove to excuse the other, which halfe perswaded him in his -soule, that they were both guiltlesse. And as he was starting up, with -full intent to acquaint them: a young man, who had stood there all -this while, and observed the hard pleading on either side; he crowded -into the Barre, being named <i>Publius Ambustus</i>, a fellow of -lewd life, and utterly out of hopes, as being debauched in all his fortunes, -and knowne among the <i>Romaines</i> to be a notorious theefe, -who verily had committed the murder. Well knew his conscience, -that none of them were guilty of the crime, wherewith each so -wilfully charged himselfe: being therefore truely toucht with remorse, -he stept before <i>Marcus Varro</i>, saying.</p> - -<p>Honourable Prætor, mine owne horrid and abominable actions, -have induced me thus to intrude my selfe, for clearing the strict -contention betweene these two persons. And questionlesse, some -God or greater power, hath tormented my wretched soule, and so -compunctually solicited me, as I cannot chuse, but make open confession -of my sinne. Here therefore, I doe apparantly publish, that -neither of these men is guilty of the offence, wherewith so wilfully -each chargeth himselfe. I am the villaine, who this morning murdered -the man in the Cave, one of no greater honesty then my selfe, -and seeing this poore man lie there sleeping, while we were dividing -the stolne booties betweene us; I slew my Companyon, because -I would be the sole possessor. As for Noble Lord <i>Titus</i>, he -had no reason thus to accuse himselfe, because is a man of no such -base quality: let them both then be delivered, and inflict the sentence -of death on me.</p> - -<p><i>Octavius Cæsar</i>, to whom tydings was brought of this rare accident, -commanding them al three to be brought before him; would -needs understand the whole History, in every particular as all had -happened, which was substantially related to him. Whereupon, -<i>Octavius</i> pleased them all three: the two noble friendes, because -they were innocent, and the third, for openly revealing the very -truth.</p> - -<p><i>Titus</i> tooke home with him his friend <i>Gisippus</i>, and after he had -sharpely reproved him for his distrust, and cold credence of his -friendship: he brought him to <i>Sophronia</i>, who welcomed him as -lovingly, as if he had bin her naturall borne brother, bemoaning -his hard and disastrous fortune, and taking especiall care, to convert -all passed distresses, into as happy and comfortable a change, fitting -him with garments and attendants, beseeming his degree both in -Nobility and vertue. <i>Titus</i>, out of his honourable bounty, imparted -halfe his lands and rich possessions to him, and afterward gave -him in marriage, his owne Sister, a most beautifull Lady, named -<i>Fulvia</i>, saying to him beside. My deare friend <i>Gisippus</i>, it remaineth -now in thine owne election, whether thou wilt live here still -with me, or returne backe to <i>Athens</i>, with all the wealth which I -have bestowed on thee. But <i>Gisippus</i>, being one way constrayned, -by the sentence of banishment from his native City, & then againe, -in regard of the constant love, which he bare to so true and thankefull -friend as <i>Titus</i> was: concluded to live there as a loyall <i>Roman</i>, -where he with his <i>Fulvia</i>, and <i>Titus</i> with his faire <i>Sophronia</i>, lived -long after together in one and the same house, augmenting daily -(if possible it might be) their amity beyond all other equalizing.</p> - -<p>A most sacred thing therefore is cordiall amity, worthy not onely -of singuler reverence, but also to be honoured with eternall -commendation, as being the onely wise Mother of all magnificence -and honesty, the Sister of Charity and Gratitude, the enemy -to hatred and avarice, and which is alwayes ready (without attending -to be requested) to extend all vertuous actions to others, -which she would have done to her selfe. Her rare and divine -effects, in these contrary times of ours, are not to be found between -two such persons, which is a mighty fault, and greatly checketh the -miserable covetousnesse of men, who respecting nothing but onely -their particular benefit; have banished true Amity, to the -utmost confines of the whole earth, and sent her into perpetuall -exile.</p> - -<p>What love, what wealth, or affinity of kindred, could have made -<i>Gisippus</i> feele (even in the intyrest part of his soule) the fervent -compassion, the teares, the sighes of <i>Titus</i>, and with such efficacy as -plainely appeared: to make him consent, that his faire elected -Spouse, by him so dearely esteemed, should become the wife of -his Companion, but onely the precious league of Amity? What -Lawes, what threatnings, what feares, could cause the young armes -of <i>Gisippus</i> to abstaine embraces, betaking himselfe to solitary -walkes, and obscure places, when in his owne bedde, he might have -enjoyed so matchlesse a beauty (who perhaps desired it so much as -himselfe) but onely the gracious title of Amity? What greatnesse, -what merits or precedence, could cause <i>Gisippus</i> not to care, for the -losse of his kindred, those of <i>Sophronia</i>, yea, of <i>Sophronia</i> her selfe, -not respecting the dishonest murmurings of base minded people, -their vile and contemptible language, scornes and mockeries, -and all to content and satisfie a friend, but onely Divine Amity?</p> - -<p>Come now likewise to the other side. What occasions could -compell Noble <i>Titus</i>, so promptly and deliberatly, to procure his -owne death, to rescue his friend from the crosse, and inflict the pain -and shame upon himselfe, pretending not see or know <i>Gisippus</i> at -all, had it not bin wrought by powerfull Amity? What cause else -could make <i>Titus</i> so liberall, in dividing (with such willingnesse) the -larger part of his patrimony to <i>Gisippus</i>, when Fortune had dispossest -him of his owne, but onely heaven-borne Amity? What else -could have procured <i>Titus</i> without any further dilation, feare or -suspition, to give his Sister <i>Fulvia</i> in marriage to <i>Gisippus</i>, when he -saw him reduced to such extreame poverty, disgrace and misery, -but onely infinite Amity? To what end doe men care then, to covet -and procure great multitudes of kinred, store of brethren, numbers -of children, and to encrease (with their owne monyes) plenty -of servants: when by the least losse and dammage happening, -they forget all duty to Father, Brother, or Master? Amity and true -friendship is of a quite contrary nature, satisfying (in that sacred -bond) the obligation due to all degrees, both of parentage, and all -alliences else.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Saladine_the_great_Soldan_of_Babylon_in_the_habite_of_a_Merchant" id="Saladine_the_great_Soldan_of_Babylon_in_the_habite_of_a_Merchant">Saladine, <i>the great</i> Soldan <i>of</i> Babylon, <i>in the habite of a Merchant, -was honourably received and welcommed, into the house of Signior</i> -Thorello d'Istria. <i>Who travelling to the Holy Land, prefixed a -certaine time to his Wife, for his returne backe to her againe, wherein, -if he failed, it was lawfull for her to take another Husband. By -clouding himselfe in the disguise of a Faulkner, the</i> Soldan <i>tooke -notice of him, and did him many great honours. Afterward,</i> Thorello -<i>falling sicke, by Magicall Art, he was conveighed in one night -to</i> Pavia, <i>when his Wife was to be married on the morrow: where -making himselfe knowne to her, all was disappointed, and shee went -home with him to his owne house.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Ninth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Declaring what an honourable vertue Courtesie is, in them that truely -know how to use them.</i></h4> - - -<p>Madam <i>Philomena</i> having concluded her discourse, and -the rare acknowledgement, which <i>Titus</i> made of his -esteemed friend <i>Gisippus</i>, extolled justly as it deserved by -all the Company: the King, reserving the last office to <i>Dioneus</i> (as -it was at the first granted him) began to speake thus. Without all -question to the contrary (worthy Ladies) nothing can be more truely -said, then what Madame <i>Philomena</i>, hath delivered, concerning -Amity, and her complaint in the conclusion of her Novell, is not -without great reason, to see it so slenderly reverenced and respected -(now-a-dayes) among all men. But if we had met here in duty onely -for correcting the abuses of iniquity, and the malevolent courses -of this preposterous age; I could proceed further in this just cause -of complaint. But because our end aimeth at matters of other nature, -it commeth to my memory to tel you of a History, which (perhaps) -may seeme somewhat long, but altogether pleasant, concerning a -magnificent act of great <i>Saladine</i>: to the end, that by observing -those things which you shall heare in my Novell, if we cannot (by -reason of our manifold imperfections) intirely compasse the amity -of any one; yet (at least) we may take delight, in stretching our kindnesse -(in good deeds) so farre as we are able, in hope one day after, -some worthy reward will ensue thereon, as thereto justly appertaining.</p> - -<p>Let me tell you then, that (as it is affirmed by many) in the time -of the Emperour Frederick, first of that name, the Christians, for -the better recovery of the holy land, resolved to make a generall -voyage over the Seas. Which being understood by <i>Saladine</i>, a -very worthy Prince, and then <i>Soldan</i> of Babylon: he concluded -with himselfe, that he would (in person) goe see, what preparation -the Christian Potentates made for this Warre, that hee might the -better provide for himselfe. Having setled all things orderly in -Ægypt for the busines, and making an outward appearance, as if he -purposed a pilgrimage to <i>Mecha</i>: he set onward on his journey, -habited like a Merchant, attended onely with two of his most Noble -and wisest Baschaes, and three waiting servants.</p> - -<p>When he had visited many Christian Provinces, and was riding -thorow <i>Lombardie</i>, to passe the mountaines; it fortuned, in his journeying -from <i>Millaine</i> to <i>Pavia</i>, and the day being very farre spent, -so that night hastened speedily on him: he met with a Gentleman, -named Signior <i>Thorello d'Istria</i>, but dwelling at <i>Pavia</i>, who with -his men, Hawkes and Hounds, went to a house of his, seated in a -singular place, and on the River of <i>Ticinum</i>. Signior <i>Thorello</i> seeing -such men making towardes him, presently imagined, that they -were some Gentle-strangers, and such hee desired to respect with -honour.</p> - -<p>Wherefore, <i>Saladine</i> demanding of one of <i>Thorelloes</i> men, how -farre (as then) it was to <i>Pavia</i>, and whether they might reach thither -by such an houre, as would admit their entrance into the City: -<i>Thorello</i> would not suffer his servant to returne the answer, but -replyed thus himselfe. Sir (quoth he) you cannot reach <i>Pavia</i>, but -night will abridge you of any entraunce there. I beseech you then -Sir, answered <i>Saladine</i>, favour us so much (because we are all strangers -in these parts) as to tell us where we may be well lodged. That -shal I Sir, said <i>Thorello</i>, and very gladly too.</p> - -<p>Even at the instant Sir, as we met with you, I had determined in -my mind, to send one of my servants somewhat neere to <i>Pavia</i>, about -a businesse concerning my selfe: he shall go along with you, -and conduct you to a place, where you will be very well entertayned. -So, stepping to him, who was of best discretion amongst his -men, he gave order to him what should bee done, and sent him -with them. Himselfe, making hast by a farre neerer way, caused -Supper to be prepared in worthy manner, and the Tables to be covered -in his Garden; and all things being in good readinesse, he sate -downe at his doore, to attend the comming of his guests. The Servingman, -discoursing with the Gentlemen on divers occasions, guided -them by such unusuall passages, as (before they could discerne -it) he brought them to his Masters house; where so soone as <i>Thorello</i> -saw them arrived, he went forth to meet them, assuring them all of -most hearty welcome.</p> - -<p><i>Saladine</i>, who was a man of accute understanding, did well perceive, -that this Knight <i>Thorello</i> misdoubted his going with him, if -(when he met him) hee should have invited him; and therefore, because -he would not be denied, of entertaining him into his house; -he made choise of this kinde and honourable course, which caused -him to returne this answer. Gentle Sir, if courtesie in one man to -another, do deserve condemning, then may we justly complaine of -you, who meeting us upon the way, which you have shortened by -your kindnesse; and which we are no way able to deserve, wee are -constrained to accept, taking you to bee the mirrour of courtesie. -<i>Thorello</i> being a Knight of ingenious apprehension, and wel languaged, -replyed thus.</p> - -<p>Gentlemen; this courtesie (seeing you terme it so) which you -receive of me, in regard of that justly belonging to you, as your faces -do sufficiently informe mee, is matter of very slender account. -But assuredly out of <i>Pavia</i>, you could not have any lodging, deserving -to be termed good. And therefore, let it not bee displeasing -to you, if you have a little gone forth of the common rode way, to -have your entertainment somewhat bettered, as many travaylers -are easily induced to do.</p> - -<p>Having thus spoken, all the people of the house shewed themselves, -in serviceable manner to the Gentlemen, taking their horses -as they dismounted, and <i>Thorello</i> himselfe, conducted the three -Gentlemen, into three severall faire Chambers, which in costly manner -were prepared for them, where their boots were pluckt off, faire -Napkins with Manchets lay ready, and delicate Wines to refresh -their wearied spirits, much pretty conference being entercoursed, til -Supper time invited them thence.</p> - -<p><i>Saladine</i>, and they that were with him, spake the Latine tongue -very readily, by which meanes they were the better understoode; -and <i>Thorello</i> seemed (in their judgement) to bee the most gracious, -compleate, and best spoken Gentleman, as ever they met with in all -their journey. It appeared also (on the other side) to Signiour <i>Thorello</i>, -that his guests were men of great merit, and worthy of much -more esteeme, then there he could use towards them: wherefore, it -did highly distast him, that he had no more friends there this night -to keepe them company, or himselfe better provided for their entertainment, -which hee intended (on the morrow) to recompence -with larger amends at dinner.</p> - -<p>Heereupon, having instructed one of his men with what hee intended, -he sent him to <i>Pavia</i>, which was not farre off (and where he -kept no doore shut) to his Wife, named Madam <i>Adalietta</i>; a Woman -singularly wise, and of a Noble spirit, needing little or no direction, -especially when she knew her Husbands minde. As they were -walking in the Garden, <i>Thorello</i> desired to understand, of whence, -and what they were? Whereto <i>Saladine</i> thus answered. Sir, wee -are <i>Cyprian</i> Marchants, comming now from <i>Cyprus</i>, and are travailing -to <i>Paris</i>, about affaires of importance. Now trust me Syr, replyed -<i>Thorello</i>, I could heartily wish, that this Countrey of ours -would yeeld such Gentlemen, as your <i>Cyprus</i> affordeth Marchants. -So, falling from one discourse unto another, Supper was served in; -and looke howe best themselves pleased, so they sate at the Table, -where (we neede make no doubt) they were respected in honourable -order.</p> - -<p>So soone as the Tables were withdrawne, <i>Thorello</i> knowing they -might be weary, brought them againe to their Chambers, where -committing them to their good rest, himselfe went to bed soone after. -The Servant sent to <i>Pavia</i>, delivered the message to his Lady; -who, not like a woman of ordinary disposition, but rather truely -Royall, sent <i>Thorelloes</i> servants into the City, to make preparation -for a Feast indeed, and with lighted Torches (because it was somewhat -late) they invited the very greatest and noblest persons of the -Citie, all the roomes being hanged with the richest Arras, Clothes -of Golde worke, Velvets, Silkes, and all other rich adornments, in -such manner as her husband had commanded, and answerable to -her owne worthy mind, being no way to learne, in what manner to -entertaine strangers.</p> - -<p>On the morrow morning, the Gentlemen arose, and mounting -on horsebacke with Signior <i>Thorello</i>, he called for his Hawkes and -Hounds, brought them to the River, where he shewed two or three -faire flights: but <i>Saladine</i> desiring to know, which was the fayrest -Hostery in all <i>Pavia, Thorello</i> answered. Gentlemen, I wil shew you -that my selfe, in regard I have occasion to ride thither. Which they -beleeving, were the better contented, and rode on directly unto <i>Pavia</i>; -arriving there about nine of the clocke, and thinking he guided -them to the best Inne, he brought them to his owne house; where, -above fifty of the worthiest Citizens, stood ready to welcome the -Gentlemen, imbracing them as they lighted from their Horsses. -Which <i>Saladine</i>, and his associates perceiving, they guessed as it -was indeede, and <i>Saladine</i> sayd. Beleeve me worthy <i>Thorello</i>, this -is not answerable to my demand; you did too much yester-night, -and much more then we could desire or deserve: Wherefore, you -might wel be the sooner discharged of us, and let us travaile on our -journey.</p> - -<p>Noble Gentlemen, replyed <i>Thorello</i> (for in mine eye you seeme -no lesse) that courtesie which you met with yester-night, I am to -thanke Fortune for, more then you, because you were then straited -by such necessity, as urged your acceptance of my poore Country -house. But now this morning, I shall account my selfe much beholding -to you (as the like will all these worthy Gentlemen here about -you) if you do but answer kindnes with kindnes, and not refuse -to take a homely dinner with them.</p> - -<p><i>Saladine</i> and his friends, being conquerd with such potent perswasions, -and already dismounted from their horses, saw that all -deniall was meerly in vaine: and therefore thankfully condiscending -(after some few ceremonious complements were over-past) the -Gentlemen conducted them to their Chambers, which were most -sumptuously prepared for them, and having laid aside their riding -garments, being a little refreshed with Cakes and choice Wines: -they descended into the dining Hall, the pompe whereof I am not -able to report.</p> - -<p>When they had washed, and were seated at the Tables, dinner -was served in most magnificent sort; so that if the Emperor himself -had bin there, he could not have bin more sumptuously served. And -although <i>Saladine</i> and his Baschaes were very Noble Lords, and -wonted to see matters of admiration: yet could they do no lesse -now, but rather exceeded in marvaile, considering the qualitie of -the Knight, whom they knew to bee a Citizen, and no Prince or -great Lord. Dinner being ended, and divers familiar conferences -passing amongst them: because it was exceeding hot, the Gentlemen -of <i>Pavia</i> (as it pleased <i>Thorello</i> to appoint) went to repose -themselves awhile, and he keeping company with his three guests, -brought them into a goodly Chamber, where, because he would -not faile in the least scruple of courtesie, or conceale from them the -richest Jewell which he had; he sent for his Lady and wife, because -(as yet) they had not seene her.</p> - -<p>She was a Lady of extraordinary beauty, tall stature, very sumptuously -attired, and having two sweet Sonnes (resembling Angels) -she came with them waiting before her, and graciously saluted her -guests. At her comming, they arose, and having received hir with -great reverence, they seated her in the midst, kindly cherishing the -two Children. After some gracious Language past on eyther side, -she demanded of whence, and what they were, which they answered -in the same kind as they had done before to her husband. Afterward, -with a modest smiling countenance, she sayd. Worthy -Gentlemen, let not my weake Womanish discretion appeare distastable, -in desiring to crave one especiall favour from you, namely, -not to refuse or disdaine a small gift, wherewith I purpose to present -you. But considering first, that women (according to their simple -faculty) are able to bestow but silly gifts: so you would be pleased, -to respect more the person that is the giver, then the quality or -quantity of the gift.</p> - -<p>Then causing to be brought (for each of them) two goodly gowns -or Robes (made after the <i>Persian</i> manner) the one lyned thorough -with cloth of Gold, and the other with the costlyest Fur; not after -such fashion as Citizens or Marchants use to weare, but rather beseeming -Lords of greatest account, and three light under-wearing -Cassocks or Mandillions, of Carnatian Sattin, richly Imbroidred -with Gold and Pearles, and lined thorow with White Taffata, presenting -these gifts to him, she sayd. I desire you Gentlemen to receive -these meane trifles, such as you see my Husband weares the -like, and these other beside, considering you are so far from your -Wives, having travailed a long way already, and many miles more -yet to overtake; also Marchants (being excellent men) affect to be -comely and handsome in their habits; although these are of slender -value, yet (in necessity) they may do you service.</p> - -<p>Now was <i>Saladine</i> and his Baschaes halfe astonyed with admiration, -at the magnificent minde of Signiour <i>Thorello</i>, who would -not forget the least part of courtesie towardes them, and greatly -doubted (seeing the beauty and riches of the Garments) least they -were discovered by <i>Thorello</i>. Neverthelesse, one of them thus answered -the Lady. Beleeve me Madame, these are rich guiftes, not -lightly either to be given, or receyved: but in regard of your strict -imposition, we are not able to deny them. This being done, with -most gracious and courteous demeanour, she departed from them, -leaving her Husband to keepe them still companie; who furnished -their servants also, with divers worthy necessaries fitting for their -journey.</p> - -<p>Afterward, <i>Thorello</i> (by very much importunitie) wonne them -to stay with him all the rest of the day; wherefore, when they had -rested themselves awhile, being attyred in their newly given robes; -they rode on Horsebacke thorow the City. When supper time -came, they supt in most honourable and worthy company, beeing -afterwards Lodged in most faire and sumptuous Chambers, and -being risen in the morning, in exchange of their horses (over-wearied -with Travaile) they found three other very richly furnished, and -their men also in like manner provided. Which when <i>Saladine</i> -had perceyved, he tooke his Baschaes aside, and spake in this manner.</p> - -<p>By our greatest Gods, I never met with any man, more compleat -in all noble perfections, more courteous and kinde then <i>Thorello</i> is. -If all the Christian Kings, in the true and heroicall nature of Kings, -do deale as honourably as I see this Knight doeth, the Soldane of -<i>Babylon</i> is not able to endure the comming of one of them, much -lesse so many, as wee see preparing to make head against us. But -beholding, that both refusall and acceptation, was all one in the -minde of <i>Thorello</i>: after much kinde Language had bin intercoursed -betweene them, <i>Saladine</i> (with his Attendants) mounted on -horsebacke.</p> - -<p>Signiour <i>Thorello</i>, with a number of his honourable Friends (to -the number of an hundred Horsse) accompanied them a great distance -from the Citie, and although it greeved <i>Saladine</i> exceedingly, -to leave the company of <i>Thorello</i>, so dearely he was affected to -him; but necessity (which controlleth the power of all lawes whatsoever) -must needs divide them: yet requesting his returne agayne -that way, if possibly it might be granted; which <i>Saladine</i> promised -but did not performe. Well Gentlemen (quoth <i>Thorello</i> at parting) -I know not what you are, neither (against your will) do I desire it: -but whether you be Marchants or no, remember me in your kindnesse, -and so to the heavenly powers I commend you. <i>Saladine</i>, having -taken his leave of all them that were with <i>Thorello</i>, returned -him this answer. Sir, it may one day hereafter so happen, as we shal -let you see some of our Marchandises, for the better confirmation -of your beleefe, and our profession.</p> - -<p>Thus parted Signior <i>Thorello</i> and his friends, from <i>Saladine</i> and -his company, who verily determined in the heighth of his minde, -if he should be spared with life, and the warre (which he expected) -concluded: to requite <i>Thorello</i> with no lesse courtesie, then hee had -already declared to him; conferring a long while after with his -Baschaes, both of him and his beauteous Lady, not forgetting any -of their courteous actions, but gracing them all with deserved commendation. -But after they had (with very laborious paines) surveyed -most of the Westerne parts, they all tooke Shipping, and returned -into <i>Alexandria</i>: sufficiently informed, what preparation -was to be made for their owne defence. And Signior <i>Thorello</i> being -come backe againe to <i>Pavia</i>, consulted with his privat thoughts -(many times after) what these three travailers should be, but came -farre short of knowing the truth, till (by experience) hee became -better informed.</p> - -<p>When the time was come, that the Christians were to make -their passage, and wonderfull great preparations, in all places performed: -Signiour <i>Thorello</i>, notwithstanding the teares and intreaties -of his Wife, determined to be one in so woorthy and honourable -a voyage: and having made his provision ready, nothing wanting -but mounting on Horsebacke, to go where he should take shipping; -to his Wife (whom he most intirely affected) thus hee spake. -Madame, I goe as thou seest in this famous Voyage, as well for -mine Honour, as also the benefite of my soule; all our goodes and -possessions, I commit to thy vertuous care. And because I am not -certaine of my returning backe againe, in regard of a thousand accidents -which may happen, in such a Countrey as I goe unto: I desire -onely but one favour of thee, whatsoever daunger shall befall -mee; Namely, when any certaine tydings shall be brought mee of -my death; to stay no longer before thy second marriage, but one -yeare, one month, and one day; to begin on this day of my departing -from thee.</p> - -<p>The Lady, who wept exceedingly, thus answered. Alas Sir: I -know not how to carry my selfe, in such extremity of greefe, as now -you leave me; but if my life surmount the fortitude of sorrow, and -whatsoever shall happen to you for certainty, either life or death: -I will live and dye the Wife of Signiour <i>Thorello</i>, and make my obsequies -in his memory onely.</p> - -<p>Not so Madame (replyed her Husband) not so; Be not overrash -in promising any thing, albeit I am well assured, that so much as -consisteth in thy strength, I make no question of thy performance. -But consider withall (deare heart) thou art a young woman, beautifull, -of great parentage, and no way thereto inferior in the blessings -of Fortune.</p> - -<p>Thy Vertues are many, and universally both divulged and knowen, -in which respect, I make no doubt; but divers and sundrie -great Lords and Gentlemen (if but the least rumour of my death be -noysed) will make suite for thee to thy parents and brethren, from -whose violent solicitings, wouldst thou never so resolutely make resistance, -yet thou canst not be able to defend thy selfe; but whether -thou wilt or no, thou must yeeld to please them; and this is the only -reason, why I would tie thee to this limited time, and not one day -or minute longer.</p> - -<p><i>Adalietta</i>, sweetly hugging him in her armes, and melting her -selfe in kisses, sighes, and teares on his face, said. Well Sir, I will do -so much as I am able, in this your most kinde and loving imposition: -and when I shall bee compelled to the contrary: yet rest thus -constantly assured, that I will not breake this your charge, so much -as in thought. Praying ever heartily to the heavenly powers, that -they will direct your course home againe to me, before your prefixed -date, or else I shall live in continuall languishing. In the knitting -up of this woful parting, embracing and kissing either infinite times, -the Lady tooke a Ring from off her finger, and giving it to her husband, -said. If I chaunce to die before I see you againe, remember -me when you looke on this. He receiving the Ring, and bidding all -the rest of his Friends farewell, mounted on horsebacke, and rode -away wel attended.</p> - -<p>Being come unto <i>Geneway</i>, he and his company boorded a Galley, -and (in few dayes after) arrived at <i>Acres</i>, where they joyned -themselves with the Christian Army, wherein there happened a -verie dangerous mortality: During which time of so sharpe visitation -(the cause unknowne whence it proceeded) whether thorough -the industrie, or rather the good Fortune of <i>Saladine</i>, well-neere -all the rest of the Christians (which escaped death) were -surprized his prisoner (without a blow strucken) and sundred and -imprisoned in divers Townes and Citties. Amongest the which -number of prisoners, it was Signior <i>Thorelloes</i> chaunce to be one, -and walked in bonds to <i>Alexandria</i>, where being unknowne, and -fearing least he should be discovered: constrained thereto meerly -by necessity, hee shewed himselfe in the condition of a Faulconer; -wherein he was very excellently experienced, and by which means -his profession was made knowne to <i>Saladine</i>, hee delivered out of -prison, and created the Soldans Faulconer.</p> - -<p><i>Thorello</i> (whom the Soldane called by no other name, then the -Christian, neyther of them knowing the other) sadly now remembred -his departure from <i>Pavia</i>, devising and practising many -times, how he might escape thence, but could not compasse it by any -possible meanes. Wherefore, certaine Ambassadours beeing -sent by the <i>Genewaye</i>, to redeeme divers Cittizens of theirs, there -detained as prisoners, and being ready to returne home againe: he -purposed to write to his Wife, that he was living, and wold repaire -to her so soone as he could, desiring the still continued rememberance -of her limited time. By close and cunning meanes hee wrote -the Letter, earnestly intreating one of the Ambassadors (who knew -him perfectly, but made no outward apparance thereof) to deale in -such sort for him, that the Letter might be delivered to the handes -of the Abbot <i>Di San Pietro in Ciel d'Oro</i>, who was (indeede) his -Uncle.</p> - -<p>While <i>Thorello</i> remayned in this his Faulconers condition, it -fortuned uppon a day, that <i>Saladine</i>, conversing with him about -his Hawkes: <i>Thorello</i> chanced to smile, and used such a kinde of -gesture or motion with his Lippes, which <i>Saladine</i> (when he was in -his house at <i>Pavia</i>) had heedfully observed, and by this note, instantly -he remembred Signior <i>Thorello</i>, and began to eye him very -respectively, perswading himselfe that he was the same man. And -therefore falling from their former kinde of discoursing: Tell mee -Christian (quoth <i>Saladine</i>) what Country-man art thou of the -West? Sir, answered Signiour <i>Thorello</i>, I am by Country a Lombard, -borne in a City called <i>Pavia</i>, a poore man, and of as poore -condition.</p> - -<p>So soone as <i>Saladine</i> had heard these Words; becomming assured -in that which (but now) he doubted, he saide within himselfe. -Now the Gods have given me time, wherein I may make knowne -to this man, how thankefully I accepted his kinde courtesie, and -cannot easily forget it. Then, without saying any thing else, causing -his Guard-robe to be set open, he tooke him with him thither, -and sayde. Christian, observe well all these Garments, and quicken -thy remembrance, in telling mee truly, whether thou hast seene -any of them before now, or no. Signiour <i>Thorello</i> looked on them -all advisedly, and espyed those two especiall Garments, which his -Wife had given one of the strange Merchants; yet he durst not credit -it, or that possibly it could be the same, neverthelesse he said. Sir, -I doe not know any of them, but true it is, that these two doe resemble -two such Robes, as I was wont to weare my selfe, and these -(or the like) were given to three Merchants, that happened to visite -my poore house.</p> - -<p>Now could <i>Saladine</i> containe no longer, but embracing him -joyfullly in his armes, he said. You are Signior <i>Thorello d'Istria</i>, and -I am one of those three Merchants, to whom your Wife gave these -Roabes: and now the time is come to give you credible intelligence -of my Merchandise, as I promised at my departing from you, for -such a time (I told you) would come at length. <i>Thorello</i>, was both -glad, and bashfull together: glad, that he had entertained such a -Guest, and bashfully ashamed, that his welcome had not exceeded -in more bountifull manner. <i>Thorello</i>, replyed <i>Saladine</i>, seeing the -Gods have sent you so happily to me: account your selfe to be soly -Lord here, for I am now no more then a private man.</p> - -<p>I am not able to expresse their counterchanges of courtesie, <i>Saladine</i> -commanding him to be cloathed in Royall garments, and -brought into the presence of his very greatest Lords, where having -spoken liberally in his due commendation, he commanded them -to honour him as himselfe, if they expected any grace or favour -from him, which every one did immediately, but (above all the rest) -those two Baschaes, which accompanied <i>Saladine</i> at his house. The -greatnesse of this pompe and glory, so suddenly throwne on Signior -<i>Thorello</i>, made him halfe forget all matters of <i>Lomberdie</i>; and -so much the rather, because he had no doubt at all, but that his letters, -were safely come to the hands of his Uncle.</p> - -<p>Here I am to tell you, that in the Campe or Army of the Christians, -on the day when <i>Saladine</i> made his surprizall, there was a -Provinciall Gentleman dead and buried, who was Signior <i>Thorello -de Dignes</i>, a man of very honourable and great esteeme, in which -respect (Signior <i>Thorello d'Istria</i>, knowne throughout the Army, by -his Nobility and valour) whosoever heard that Signior <i>Thorello</i> -was dead: beleeved it to be <i>Thorello d'Istria</i>, and not he of <i>Dignes</i>, -so that <i>Thorello d'Istriaes</i> unknowne surprizall and thraldome, made -it also to passe for an assured truth.</p> - -<p>Beside, many Italians returning home, and carrying this report -for credible; some were so audaciously presumptuous, as they avouched -upon their oathes, that not onely they saw him dead, but -were present at his buriall likewise. Which rumour comming to -the eare of his Wife, and likewise to his kinred and hers: procured -a great and grievous mourning among them, and all that happened -to heare thereof.</p> - -<p>Over-tedious time it would require, to relate at large, the publique -griefe and sorrow, with the continuall lamentations of his -Wife, who (within some few moneths after) became tormented -with new marriage solicitings, before she had halfe sighed for the -first: the very greatest persons of <i>Lomberdie</i> making the motion, -being daily followed and furthered by her owne brothers and -friends. Still (drowned in teares) she returned denyall, till in the -end, when no contradiction could prevaile, to satisfie her parents, -and the importunate pursuers: she was constrained to reveale, the -charge imposed on her by her Husband, which shee had vowed infallibly -to keepe, and till that very time, she would in no wise consent.</p> - -<p>While wooing for a second wedding with <i>Adalietta</i>, proceeded -in this manner at <i>Pavia</i>, it chanced on a day, that Signior <i>Thorello</i> -had espied a man in <i>Alexandria</i>, whom he saw with the <i>Geneway</i> -Ambassadours, when they set thence towards <i>Geneway</i> with -their Gallies. And causing him to be sent for, he demaunded of -him, the successe of the voyage, and when the Gallies arrived at <i>Geneway</i>; -whereto he returned him this answere. My Lord, our Gallies -made a very fatall voyage, as it is (already) too well knowne in -<i>Creete</i>, where my dwelling is. For when we drew neere <i>Sicilie</i>, -there suddenly arose a very dangerous North-West-winde, which -drove us on the quicke-Sands of <i>Barbarie</i>, where not any man escaped -with life, onely my selfe excepted, but (in the wracke) two of -my brethren perished.</p> - -<p>Signior <i>Thorello</i>, giving credit to the mans words, because they -were most true indeed, and remembring also, that the time limitted -to his Wife, drew neere expiring within very few dayes, and no -newes now possibly to be sent thither of his life, his Wife would -questionlesse be marryed againe: he fell into such a deepe conceited -melancholly, as food and sleepe forsooke him, whereupon, he -kept his bed, setting downe his peremptory resolution for death. -When <i>Saladine</i> (who dearely loved him) heard thereof, he came in -all haste to see him, and having (by many earnest perswasions and -entreaties) understood the cause of his melancholly and sickenesse: -he very severely reproved him, because he could no sooner acquaint -him therewith. Many kind and comfortable speeches, he -gave him, with constant assurance, that (if he were so minded) he -would so order the businesse for him; as he should be at <i>Pavia</i>, by -the same time as he had appointed to his Wife, and revealed to him -also the manner how.</p> - -<p><i>Thorello</i> verily beleeved the <i>Soldanes</i> promise, because he had -often heard the possibility of performance, and others had effected -as much, divers times else-where: whereupon he began to comfort -himselfe, soliciting the <i>Soldan</i> earnestly that it might be accomplished. -<i>Saladine</i> sent for one of his Sorcerers (of whose skill he had -formerly made experience) to take a direct course, how Signior -<i>Thorello</i> should be carryed (in one night) to <i>Pavia</i>, and being in his -bed. The Magitian undertooke to doe it, but, for the Gentlemans -more ease, he must first be possessed with an entraunced dead sleep. -<i>Saladine</i> being thus assured of the deeds full effecting, he came againe -to <i>Thorello</i>, and finding him to be setled for <i>Pavia</i> (if possibly -it might be accomplished by the determined time, or else no other -expectation but death) he said unto him as followeth.</p> - -<p>Signior <i>Thorello</i>, if with true affection you love your Wife, and -misdoubt her marriage to some other man: I protest unto you, by -the supreme powers, that you deserve no reprehension in any -manner whatsoever. For, of all the Ladyes that ever I have seene, -she is the onely woman, whose carriage, vertues, and civile speaking -(setting aside beauty, which is but a fading flower) deserveth most -graciously to be respected, much more to be affected in the highest -degree. It were to me no meane favour of our Gods, (seeing Fortune -directed your course so happily hither) that for the short or -long time we have to live, we might reigne equally together in -these Kingdomes under my subjection. But if such grace may not -be granted me, yet, seeing it stands mainly upon the perill of your -life, to be at <i>Pavia</i> againe by your own limitted time, it is my chiefest -comfort, that I am therewith acquainted, because I intended to -have you conveighed thither, yea, even into your owne house, in -such honourable order as your vertues doe justly merit, which in -regard it cannot be so conveniently performed, but as I have already -informed you, and as the necessity of the case urgently commandeth; -accept it as it may be best accomplished.</p> - -<p>Great <i>Saladine</i> (answered <i>Thorello</i>) effects (without words) have -already sufficiently warranted your Gracious disposition towards -me, farre beyond any requitall remayning in me; your word onely -being enough for my comfort in this case, either dying or living. -But in regard you have taken such order for my departure hence, -I desire to have it done with all possible expedition, because to morrow -is the very last day, that I am to be absent. <i>Saladine</i> protested -that it should be done, and the same evening in the great Hall of -his Pallace, commanded a rich and costly Bedde to be set up, the -mattras formed after the <i>Alexandrian</i> manner, of Velvet and cloth -Gold, the Quilts, counter-points and coverings, sumptuously imbroydered -with Orient Pearles and Precious Stones, supposed to -be of inestimable value, and two rarely wrought Pillowes, such as -best beseemed so stately a Bedde, the Curtaines and Vallans every -way equall to the other pompe.</p> - -<p>Which being done, he commanded that <i>Thorello</i> (who was indifferently -recovered) should be attyred in one of his owne sumptuous -<i>Saracine</i> Roabes, the very fairest and richest that ever was -seene, and on his head a Majesticall Turbant, after the manner of -his owne wearing, and the houre appearing to be somewhat late, he -with many of his best Baschaes, went to the Chamber where <i>Thorello</i> -was, and sitting downe a while by him, in teares thus he spake. -Signior <i>Thorello</i>, the houre for sundering you and me, is now very -neere, and because I cannot beare you company, in regard of the -businesse you goe about, and which by no meanes will admit it: -I am to take my leave of you in this Chamber, and therefore am -purposely come to doe it. But before I bid you farewell, let me -entreat you, by the love and friendship confirmed betweene us, to -be mindfull of me, and to take such order (your affaires being fully -finished in <i>Lombardie</i>) that I may once more enjoy the sight of you -here, for a mutuall solace and satisfaction of our mindes, which are -now divided by this urgent hast. Till which may be granted, let -me want no visitation of your kind letters, commanding thereby of -me, whatsoever here can possibly be done for you; assuring your -selfe, no man living can command me as you doe.</p> - -<p>Signior <i>Thorello</i> could not forbeare weeping, but being much -hindred thereby, answered in few words. That he could not possibly -forget, his Gracious favours and extraordinary benefits used towards -him, but would accomplish whatsoever hee commaunded, -according as heaven did enable him.</p> - -<p>Hereupon, <i>Saladine</i> embracing him, and kissing his forehead, -said. All my Gods goe with you, and guard you from any perill, -departing so out of the Chamber weeping, and his Baschaes (having -likewise taken their leave of <i>Thorello</i>) followed <i>Saladine</i> into -the Hall, whereas the Bedde stood readily prepared. Because -it waxed very late, and the Magitian also there attending for his -dispatch: the Phisitian went with the potion to <i>Thorello</i>, and -perswading him, in the way of friendship, that it was onely to -strengthen him after his great Weaknes: he drank it off, being thereby -immediately entraunced, and so presently sleeping, was (by -<i>Saladines</i> command) laid on the sumptuous and costly Bed, whereon -stood an Imperiall Crowne of infinite value, appearing -(by a description engraven on it) that <i>Saladine</i> sent it to Madame -<i>Adalietta</i>, the wife of <i>Thorello</i>. On his finger also hee put a Ring, -wherein was enchased an admirable Carbuncle, which seemed like -a flaming Torche, the value thereof not to bee estimated. By him -likewise hee laid a rich sword, with the girdle, hangers, and other -furniture, such as seldome can be seene the like. Then hee laid a -Jewell on the Pillow by him, so sumptuouslie embelished with -Pearles and precious Stones, as might have beseemed the greatest -Monarch in the World to weare. Last of all, on either side -of them, hee set two great Basons of pure Gold, full of double -ducates, many cords of Orient Pearles, Rings, Girdles, and other -costly Jewells (over-tedious to bee recounted) and kissing him -once more as hee lay in the bedde, commanded the Magitian to dispatch -and be gone.</p> - -<p>Instantly, the bedde and <i>Thorello</i> in it, in the presence of <i>Saladine</i>, -was invisibly carried thence, and while he sate conferring with his -Baschaes, the bed, Signior <i>Thorello</i>, and all the rich Jewells about -him, was transported and set in the Church of <i>San Pietro in Ciel -d'Ore</i> in <i>Pavia</i>, according to his own request, and soundly sleeping, -being placed directly before the high Altar. Afterward, when the -bells rung to Mattines, the Sexton entring the Church with a light -in his hand (where hee beheld a light of greater splendor) and suddenly -espied the sumptuous bedde there standing: not only was he -smitten into admiration, but hee ranne away also very fearefully. -When the Abbot and the Monkes mette him thus running into the -Cloyster, they became amazed, and demanded the reason why he -ranne in such haste, which the Sexton told them. How? quoth the -Abbot, thou art no childe, or a new-come hither, to be so easilie -affrighted in our holy Church, where Spirits can have no power -to walke, God and Saint <i>Peter</i> (wee hope) are stronger for us then -them so: wherefore turne backe with us, and let us see the cause of -thy feare.</p> - -<p>Having lighted many Torches, the Abbot and his Monkes entred -with the Sexton into the Church, where they beheld the -wonderfull riche bedde, and the Knight lying fast a-sleepe in it. -While they stood all in amazement, not daring to approach neere -the bedde, whereon lay such costly Jewells: it chanced that Signior -<i>Thorello</i> awaked, and breathed forth a vehement sigh. The -Monkes and the Abbot seeing him to stirre, ranne all away in feare, -crying aloud, God and S. <i>Peter</i> defend us.</p> - -<p>By this time <i>Thorello</i> had opened his eyes, and looking round about -him, perceived that hee was in the place of <i>Saladines</i> promise, -whereof hee was not a little joyfulll. Wherefore, sitting up in the -bedde, and particularly observing all the things about him: albeit -he knew sufficiently the magnificence of <i>Saladine</i>, yet now it appeared -far greater to him, and imagined more largely thereof, then hee -could doe before. But yet, without any other ceremony, seeing the -flight of the Monkes, hearing their cry, and perceiving the reason; -he called the Abbot by his name, desiring him not to be affraid, for -he was his Nephew <i>Thorello</i>, and no other.</p> - -<p>When the Abbot heard this, hee was ten times worse affrighted -then before, because (by publique fame) hee had beene so many -moneths dead and buried; but receiving (by true arguments) better -assurance of him, and hearing him still call him by his name: -blessing himselfe with the signe of the Crosse, hee went somewhat -neerer to the bed, when <i>Thorello</i> said. My loving Uncle, and religious -holy Father, whereof are you affraid? I am your loving Nephew, -newly returned from beyond the Seas. The Abbot, seeing his beard -to be grown long, and his habit after the Arabian fashion, did yet -collect some resemblance of his former countenance; and being -better perswaded of him, tooke him by the hand, saying:</p> - -<p>Sonne thou art happily returned, yet there is not any man in our -Citie, but doth verily beleeve thee to bee dead, and therefore -doe not much wonder at our feare. Moreover, I dare assure thee, -that thy Wife <i>Adalietta</i>, being conquered by the controuling command, -and threatnings of her kinred (but much against her owne -minde) is this very morning to be married to a new husband, and -the marriage feast is solemnly prepared, in honour of this second -nuptialls.</p> - -<p><i>Thorello</i> arising out of the bedde, gave gracious salutations to the -Abbot and his Monkes, intreating earnestly of them all, that no -word might be spoken of his returne, untill he had compleated an -important businesse. Afterward, having safely secured the bedde, -and all the rich Jewells, he fully acquainted the Abbot with all his -passed fortunes, whereof he was immeasurably joyfullly, & having -satisfied him, concerning the new elected husband, <i>Thorello</i> said unto -the Abbot. Uncle, before any rumour of my returne, I would -gladly see my wives behaviour at this new briding feast, & although -men of religion are seldome seene at such Joviall meetings: yet (for -my sake) doe you so order the matter, that I (as an Arabian stranger) -may be a guest under your protection; whereto the Abbot very -gladly condescended.</p> - -<p>In the morning, he sent to the Bridegroom, and advertised him, -that he (with a stranger newly arrived) intented to dine with him, -which the Gentleman accepted in thankefull manner. And when -dinner time came, <i>Thorello</i> in his strange disguise went with the -Abbot to the Bridegroomes house, where he was lookt on with admiration -of all the guests, but not knowne or suspected by any one; -because the Abbot reported him to be a <i>Sarracine</i>, and sent by the -Soldane (in Ambassage) to the King of France. <i>Thorello</i> was seated -at a by-table, but directly opposite to the new Bride, whom hee -much delighted to looke on, and easily collected by her sad countenance, -that shee was scarcely well pleased with this new nuptialls. -She likewise beheld him very often, not in regard of any knowledge -she took of him: for the bushiness of his beard, strangeness of habit, -(but most of all) firm beleefe of his death, was the maine prevention.</p> - -<p>At such time as <i>Thorello</i> thought it convenient, to approve how -farre he was falne out of her remembrance; he took the ring which -she gave him at his departure, and calling a young Page that waited -on none but the Bride, said to him in Italian: Faire youth, goe to -the Bride, and saluting her from me, tell her, it is a custome observed -in my Country, that when any Stranger (as I am heere) sitteth -before a new married Bride, as now shee is, in signe that hee is welcome -to her feast, she sendeth the same Cup (wherein she drinketh -her selfe) full of the best wine, and when the stranger hath drunke -so much as him pleaseth, the Bride then pledgeth him with all the -rest. The Page delivered the message to the Bride, who, being a -woman of honourable disposition, and reputing him to be a Noble -Gentleman, to testifie that his presence there was very acceptable to -her, shee commanded a faire Cuppe of gold (which stood directlie -before her) to bee neately washed, and when it was filled with -excellent Wine, caused it to bee carried to the stranger, and so it -was done.</p> - -<p><i>Thorello</i> having drunke a heartie draught to the Bride, conveyed -the Ring into the Cuppe, before any person could perceive it, -and having left but small store of Wine in it, covered the Cuppe, -and sent it againe to the Bride, who received it very graciously, -and to honour the Stranger in his Countries custome, dranke up -the rest of the Wine, and espying the Ring, shee tooke it forth undetected -by any: Knowing it to be the same Ring which shee gave -Signior <i>Thorello</i> at his parting from her; she fixed her eyes often on -it, & as often on him, whom she thought to be a stranger, the cheerfull -bloud mounting up into her cheeks, and returning againe with -remembrance to her heart, that (howsoever thus disguised) he only -was her husband.</p> - -<p>Like one of <i>Bacchus</i> Froes, up furiously she started, and throwing -downe the Table before her, cried out aloud: This is my Lord -and Husband, this truely is my Lord <i>Thorello</i>. So running to the -Table where he sate, without regard of all the riches thereon, down -she threw it likewise, and clasping her armes about his necke, hung -so mainly on him (weeping, sobbing, and kissing him) as she could -not be taken off by any of the company, nor shewed any moderation -in this excesse of passion, till <i>Thorello</i> spake, and entreated her -to be more patient, because this extremity was over-dangerous for -her. Thus was the solemnitie much troubled, but every one there -very glad and joyfulll for the recovery of such a famous and worthy -Knight, who intreated them all to vouchsafe him silence, and so related -all his fortunes to them, from the time of his departure, to the -instant houre. Concluding withall, that hee was no way offended -with the new Bride-groome, who upon the so constant report of -his death, deserved no blame in making election of his wife.</p> - -<p>The Bridegroome, albeit his countenance was somewhat cloudie, -to see his hope thus disappointed: yet granted freely, that <i>Adalietta</i> -was <i>Thorello's</i> wife in equitie, and hee could not justly lay any -claime to her. She also resigned the Crown and Rings which she -had so lately received of her new Spouse, and put that on her finger -which she found in the Cup, and that Crowne was set upon her -head, in honour sent her from great <i>Saladine</i>. In which triumphant -manner, she left the new Bridegrooms abiding, and repayred home -to <i>Thorello's</i> house, with such pompe and magnificence as never -had the like been seene in <i>Pavia</i> before, all the Citizens esteeming -it as a miracle, that they had so happily recovered Signior <i>Thorello</i> -againe.</p> - -<p>Some part of the Jewells he gave to him, who had beene at cost -with the marriage feasting, and some to his Uncle the Abbot, beside -a bountie bestowed on the Monkes. Then he sent a messenger -to <i>Saladine</i>, with Letters of his whole successe, and confessing himselfe -(for ever) his obliged servant: living many yeeres (after) with -his wife <i>Adalietta</i>, and using greater curtesies to strangers, then ever -before he had done.</p> - -<p>In this manner ended the troubles of Signior <i>Thorello</i>, and the afflictions -of his dearely affected Lady, with due recompence to their -honest and ready courtesies. Many strive (in outward shew) to doe -the like, who although they are sufficiently able, doe performe it so -basely, as it rather redoundeth to their shame, then honour. And -therefore if no merit ensue thereon, but onely such disgrace as justly -should follow; let them lay the blame upon themselves.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="The_Marquesse_of_Saluzzo_named_Gualtiero_being_constrained_by" id="The_Marquesse_of_Saluzzo_named_Gualtiero_being_constrained_by"><i>The Marquesse of</i> Saluzzo, <i>named</i> Gualtiero, <i>being constrained by -the importunate solliciting of his Lords, and other inferiour people, to -joyne himselfe in marriage; tooke a woman according to his owne liking, -called</i> Grizelda, <i>she being the daughter of a poore Countriman, -named</i> Janiculo, <i>by whom he had two children, which he pretended to -be secretly murdered. Afterward, they being grown to yeres of more -stature, and making shew of taking in marriage another wife, more -worthy of his high degree and Calling: made a seeming publique liking -of his owne daughter, expulsing his wife</i> Grizelda <i>poorely from -him. But finding her incomparable patience; more dearely (then before) -hee received her into favour againe, brought her home to his -owne Pallace, where (with her children) hee caused her and them to -be respectively honoured, in despight of all her adverse enemies.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Tenth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Set downe as an example or warning to all wealthie men, how to have -care of marrying themselves. And likewise to poore and meane women, -to be patient in their fortunes, and obedient to their husbands.</i></h4> - - -<p>Questionlesse, the Kings Novell did not so much exceed the -rest in length, but it proved as pleasing to the whole assembly, -& past with their generall approbation, till <i>Dioneus</i> (in -a merry jesting humour) said. The plaine honest simple man, that -stood holding the Candle, to see the setting on of his Mules tayle; -deserved two penny-worth of more praise, then all our applauding -of Signior <i>Thorello</i>: And knowing himselfe to bee left for the last -speaker, thus he began.</p> - -<p>Milde & modest Ladies, for ought I can perceive to the contrary, -this day was dedicated to none but Kings, Soldanes, and great Potentates, -not in favour of any inferiour or meaner persons. And -therefore, because I would be loth to dis-ranke my selfe from the -rest, I purpose to speake of a Lord Marquesse, not any matter of -great magnificence, but rather in a more humble nature, and sorted -to an honest end: which yet I will not advise any to immitate, because -(perhaps) they cannot so well digest it, as they did whom my -Novell concerneth; thus then I begin.</p> - -<p>It is a great while since, when among those that were Lord Marquesses -of <i>Saluzzo</i>, the very greatest and worthiest man of them al, -was a young Noble Lord, named <i>Gualtiero</i>, who having neyther -wife nor childe, spent his time in nothing else but hawking & hunting: -nor had he any minde of marriage, or to enjoy the benefit of -children, wherein many did repute him the wiser. But this being -distastfull to his subjects, they very often earnestly solicited him, to -match himselfe with a wife, to the end, that hee might not decease -without an heire, nor they be left destitute of a succeeding Lord; -offering themselves to provide him of such a one, so well descended -by Father and Mother, as not only should confirm their hope, -but also yeeld him high contentment; whereto the Lord Marquess -thus answered.</p> - -<p>Worthie friends, you would constraine me to the thing, wherewith -I never had any intent to meddle, considering, how difficult -a case it is to meet with such a woman, who can agree with a man in -all his conditions, and how great the number is of them, who daily -happen on the contrarie: but most (and worst of all the rest) how -wretched and miserable prooves the life of man, who is bound to -live with a wife not fit for him. And in saying, you can learn to understand -the custome and qualities of children, by behaviour of the -fathers and mothers, and so to provide mee of a wife, it is a meere -argument of folly: for neither shall I comprehend, or you either, -the secret inclinations of parents; I meane of the Father, and much -lesse the complexion of the mother. But admitte it were within -compasse of power to know them; yet it is a frequent sight, and -observed every day; that daughters doe resemble neither father -nor mother, but that they are naturally governed by their owne -instinct.</p> - -<p>But because you are so desirous to have me fettered in the chains -of wedlocke; I am contented to grant what you request. And because -I would have no complaint made of any but my selfe, if matters -should not happen answerable to expectation; I will make mine -owne eyes my electors, and not see by any others sight. Giving -you this assurance before, that if she whom I shall make choice of, -be not of you honoured and respected as your Lady and Mistresse: -it will ensue to your detriment, how much you have displeased me, -to take a wife at your request, and against mine owne will.</p> - -<p>The Noble men answered, that they were well satisfied, provided -that he tooke a wife.</p> - -<p>Some indifferent space of time before, the beauty, manners, and -well-seeming vertues, of a poore Countrie-mans daughter, dwelling -in no farre distant village, had appeared very pleasing to the -Lord Marquesse, and gave him full perswasion, that with her hee -should lead a comfortable life. And therefore without any further -search or inquisition, he absolutely resolved to marry her, and having -conferred with her Father, agreed, that his daughter should be -his wife. Whereupon, the Marquesse made a generall -Convocation of all his Lords, Barons, and other of his especiall -friends, from all parts of his Dominion; and when they were -assembled together, hee then spake unto them in manner as followeth.</p> - -<p>Honourable friends, it appeared pleasing to you all; and yet (I -thinke) you are of the same minde, that I should dispose my selfe to -take a wife: and I thereto condescended, more to yeeld you contentment, -then for any particular desire in my selfe. Let mee now -remember you of your solemne made promise, with full consent to -honour and obey her (whosoever) as your Soveraigne Lady and Mistresse, -that I shall elect to make my wife: and now the time is come, -for my exacting the performance of that promise, and which I look -you must constantly keepe. I have made choyce of a young virgine, -answerable to mine owne heart and liking, dwelling not farre off -hence, whom I intend to make my wife, and (within few daies) to -have her brought home to my Pallace. Let your care and diligence -then extend so farre, as to see that the feast may be sumptuous, and -her entertainment to bee most honourable: to the end that I may -receive as much contentment in your promise performed, as you -shall perceive I doe in my choice.</p> - -<p>The Lords and all the rest, were wondrously joyfulll to heare him -so well inclined, expressing no lesse by their shouts and jocund suffrages: -protesting cordially, that she should be welcommed with -pompe and majestie, and honoured of them all, as their Liege Ladie -and Soveraigne. Afterward, they made preparation for a -princely and magnificent feast, as the Marquesse did the like, for a -marriage of extraordinary state and qualitie, inviting all his kinred, -friends, and acquaintance in all parts and Provinces, about him. -Hee made also readie most riche and costly garments, shaped by -the body of a comely young Gentlewoman, who he knew to be equall -in proportion and stature, to her of whom hee hade made his -election.</p> - -<p>When the appointed nuptiall day was come, the Lord Marques, -about nine of the clocke in the morning, mounted on horse-backe, -as all the rest did, who came to attend him honourably, and -having all things in due readinesse with them, he said: Lords, it is -time for us to goe fetch the Bride. So on hee rode with his traine, -to the same poore Village whereas shee dwelt, and when hee was -come to her Fathers house, hee saw the maiden returning very hastily -from a Well, where shee had beene to fetch a paile of Water, -which shee set downe, and stood (accompanied with other maidens) -to see the passage by of the Lord Marquesse and his traine. -<i>Gualtiero</i> called her by her name, which was <i>Grizelda</i>, and asked -her, where her Father was: who bashfully answered him, and with -an humble courtesie, saying. My gracious Lord, hee is in the -house.</p> - -<p>Then the Marquesse dismounted from his horse, commanding -every one to attend him, then all alone hee entred into the poore -Cottage, where he found the maides father, being named <i>Janiculo</i>, -and said unto him. God speed good Father, I am come to espouse -thy daughter <i>Grizelda</i>: but first I have a few demands to make, -which I will utter to her in thy presence. Then hee turned to the -maide, and saide.</p> - -<p>Faire <i>Grizelda</i>, if I make you my wife, will you doe your best -endeavour to please me, in all things which I shall doe or say? will -you also be gentle, humble, and patient? with divers other the like -questions: whereto she still answered, that she would, so neere as -heaven (with grace) should enable her.</p> - -<p>Presently he tooke her by the hand, so led her forth of the poore -homely house, and in the presence of all his company, with his -owne hands, he took off her meane wearing garments, smocke and -all, and cloathed her with those Robes of State which he had purposely -brought thither for her, and plaiting her haire over her -shoulders, hee placed a Crowne of gold on her head, whereat every -one standing as amazed, and wondring not a little, hee said: -<i>Grizelda</i>, wilt thou have me to thy husband. Modestly blushing, -and kneeling on the ground, she answered. Yes my gracious Lord, -if you will accept so poore a maiden to be your wife. Yes <i>Grizelda</i>, -quoth hee, with this holy kisse, I confirme thee for my wife; and -so espoused her before them all. Then mounting her on a milke-white -Palfray, brought thither for her, shee was thus honourably -conducted to her Pallace.</p> - -<p>Now concerning the marriage feast and triumphes, they were -performed with no lesse pompe, then if she had beene daughter to -the King of France. And the young Bride apparantly declared, -that (with her garments) her minde and behaviour were quite changed. -For indeed shee was (as it were shame to speake otherwise) a -rare creature, both of person and perfections, and not onely was -shee absolute for beautie, but so sweetely amiable, gracious, and -goodlie; as if she were not the daughter of poore <i>Janiculo</i>, and a -Countrie Shepheardesse, but rather of some Noble Lord, whereat -every one wondred that formerly had knowne her. Beside all -this, shee was so obedient to her husband, so fervent in all dutifull -offices, and patient, without the very least provoking: as hee held -himselfe much more then contented, and the onely happy man of -the world.</p> - -<p>In like manner, towards the subjects of her Lord and Husband, -she shewed her selfe alwayes so benigne and gracious; as there was -not any one, but the more they lookt on her, the better they loved -her, honouring her voluntarily, and praying to the heavens, for her -health, dignity and well-fares long continuance. Speaking now -(quite contrary to their former opinion of the Marquesse) honourably -and worthily, that he had shewne him selfe a singular wise -man, in the election of his Wife, which few else (but he) in the -world would have done: because their judgement might fall farre -short, of discerning those great and precious vertues, veiled under -a homely habite, and obscured in a poore Countrey cottage. To -be briefe, in very short time, not onely the Marquisate it selfe, but -all neighbouring Provinces round about, had no other common -talke, but of her rare course of life, devotion, charity, and all good -actions else; quite quailing all sinister Instructions of her Husband, -before he received her in marriage.</p> - -<p>About foure or five yeeres after the birth of her daughter, shee -conceived with child againe, and (at the limitted houre of deliverance) -had a goodly Sonne, to the no little liking of the Marquesse. -Afterward, a strange humour entred into his braine, namely, -that by a long continued experience, and courses of intollerable -quality; he would needes make proofe of his faire Wives patience. -First he began to provoke her by injurious speeches, shewing fierce -and frowning lookes to her, intimating; that his people grew displeased -with him, in regard of his Wives base birth and education, -and so much the rather, because she was likely to bring children, -who (by her blood) were no better then beggars, and murmured at -the daughter already borne. Which words when <i>Grizelda</i> heard, -without any alteration of countenance, for the least distemperature -in any appearing action she said.</p> - -<p>My honourable and gracious Lord, dispose of me, as you thinke -best, for your owne dignity and contentment, for I shall therewith -be well pleased: as she that knowes her selfe, farre inferiour to the -meanest of your people, much lesse worthy of the honour, whereto -you liked to advance me.</p> - -<p>This answere was very welcome to the Marquesse, as apparantly -perceiving hereby, that the dignity whereto hee had exalted her, -or any particular favours beside, could not infect her with any -pride, coynesse, or disdaine. Not long after, having told her in plaine -and open speeches, that his subjects could not endure her so late -borne daughter: he called a trusty servant of his, and having instructed -him what he should doe, sent him to <i>Grizelda</i>, and he being alone -with her, looking very sadde, and much perplexed in mind, he -saide. Madame, except I intend to loose mine owne life, -I must accomplish what my Lord hath strictly enjoyned me, which -is, to take this your young daughter, and then I must: So breaking -off abruptly, the Lady hearing his words, and noting his frowning -lookes, remembring also what the Marquesse himselfe had formerly -said; she presently imagined, that he had commanded his servant -to kill the childe. Suddenly therefore, she tooke it out of the -Cradle, and having sweetly kissed, and bestowne her blessing on it -(albeit her heart throbbed, with the inward affection of a Mother) -without any alteration of countenance, she tenderly laid it in the -servants armes, and said. Here friend, take it, and doe with it as thy -Lord and mine hath commanded thee: but leave it in no rude -place, where birds or savage beasts may devoure it, except it be his -will to have it so.</p> - -<p>The servant departing from her with the child, and reporting -to the Marquesse what his Lady had said; he wondered at her incomparable -constancy. Then he sent it by the same servant to -<i>Bologna</i>, to an honourable Lady his kinsewoman, requesting her -(without revealing whose child it was) to see it both nobly and carefully -educated.</p> - -<p>At time convenient afterward, being with child againe, and delivered -of a Princely Sonne (then which nothing could be more -joyfulll to the Marquesse) yet all this was not sufficient for him; but -with farre ruder language then before, and lookes expressing harsh -intentions, he said unto her. <i>Grizelda</i>, though thou pleasest me -wonderfully, by the birth of this Princely Boy, yet my subjects are -not therewith contented, but blunder abroad maliciously; that the -grand-child of <i>Janiculo</i>, a poore countrey pezant, when I am dead -and gone, must be their Soveraigne Lord and Master. Which -makes me stand in feare of their expulsion, and to prevent that, I -must be rid of this childe, as well as the other, and then send thee -away from hence, that I may take another wife, more pleasing to -them.</p> - -<p><i>Grizelda</i>, with a patient sufferent soule, hearing what he had said, -returned no other answere but this. Most Gracious and Honourable -Lord, satisfie and please your owne Royall minde, and never -use any respect of me: for nothing is precious or pleasing to mee, -but what may agree with your good liking. Within a while after, -the Noble Marquesse in the like manner as he did before for the -Daughter, so he sent the same servant for the Sonne, and seeming -as if he had sent it to have been slaine, conveighed it to be nursed at -<i>Bologna</i>, in company of his sweete Sister. Whereat the Lady -shewed no other discontentment in any kinde, then formerly -she had done for her Daughter, to the no meane marvell of the -Marquesse, who protested in his soule, that the like woman was -not in all the world beside. And were it not for his heedfull observation, -how loving and carefull she was of her children, prizing -them as dearely as her owne life: rash opinion might have perswaded -him, that she had no more in her, then a carnall affection, -not caring how many she had, so shee might thus easily be rid of -them; but he knew her to be a truely vertuous mother, and wisely -liable to endure his severest impositions.</p> - -<p>His Subjects beleeving, that he had caused the children to bee -slaine, blamed him greatly, thought him to be a most cruell man, -and did highly compassionate the Ladies case: who when shee -came in company of other Gentlewomen, which mourned for -their deceased children, would answere nothing else: but that -they could not be more pleasing to her, then they were to the father -that begot them.</p> - -<p>Within certaine yeares after the birth of these children, the -Marquesse purposed with himselfe, to make his last and finall -proofe of faire <i>Grizeldaes</i> patience, and said to some neere about -him: that he could no longer endure, to keepe <i>Grizelda</i> as his wife, -confessing, he had done foolishly, and according to a young giddie -braine, when he was so rash in the marriage of her. Wherefore he -would send to the Pope, and purchase a dispensation from him, -to repudiate <i>Grizelda</i>, and take another Wife. Wherein although -they greatly reproved him; yet he told them plainely, that it must -needes be so.</p> - -<p>The Lady hearing these newes, and thinking she must returne againe -to her poore fathers house, and (perhaps) to her old occupation -of keeping sheepe, as in her younger dayes she had done, understanding -withall, that another woman must enjoy him, whom shee -dearely loved and honoured; you may well thinke (worthy Ladies) -that her patience was now put to the maine proofe indeede. Neverthelesse, -as with an invincible true vertuous courage, she had outstood -all the other injuries of Fortune; so did she constantly settle -her soule, to beare this with an undaunted countenance and behaviour.</p> - -<p>At such time as was prefixed for the purpose, counterfeit Letters -came to the Marquesse (as sent from <i>Rome</i>) which he caused to be -publikely read in the hearing of his subjects: that the Pope had dispensed -with him, to leave <i>Griselda</i>, and marry with another Wife, -wherefore, sending for her immediately, in presence of them all, thus -he spake to her. Woman, by concession sent me from the Pope, -he hath dispensed with me, to make choyce of another Wife, and -to free my selfe from thee. And because my predecessors have -beene Noblemen, and great Lords in this Country, thou being the -daughter of a poore Countrey Clowne, and their blood and mine -notoriously imbased, by my marriage with thee; I intend to have -thee no longer my Wife, but will returne thee home to thy Fathers -house, with all the rich Dowry thou broughtest me; and then I wil -take another Wife, with whom I am already contracted, better -beseeming my birth, and farre more contenting and pleasing to my -people.</p> - -<p>The Lady hearing these words (not without much paine and -difficulty) restrayned her teares, quite contrary to the naturall inclination -of women, and thus answered. Great Marquesse, I never -was so empty of discretion, but did alwayes acknowledge, that my -base and humble condition, could not in any manner sute with -your high blood and Nobility, and my being with you, I ever acknowledged, -to proceed from heaven and you, not any merit of -mine, but onely as a favour lent me, which you being now pleased -to recall backe againe, I ought to be pleased (and so am) that it bee -restored. Here is the Ring, wherewith you Espoused me; here (in -all humility) I deliver it to you. You command me, to carry home -the marriage Dowry which I brought with me: there is no need -of a Treasurer to repay it me, neither any new purse to carry it in, -much lesse any Sumpter to be laden with it. For (Noble Lord) it -was never out of my memory, that you tooke me starke naked; -and if it shall seeme sightly to you, that this body which hath borne -two children, and begotten by you, must againe be seene naked; -willingly must I depart hence naked. But I humbly beg of your -Excellency, in recompence of my Virginity, which I brought you -blamelesse, so much as in thought: that I may have but one of my -wedding Smocks, onely to conceale the shame of nakednesse, and -then I depart rich enough.</p> - -<p>The Marquesse whose heart wept bloody teares, as his eyes -would likewise gladly have yeelded their naturall tribute; covered -all with a dissembled angry countenance, and starting up, said. Goe, -give her a Smocke onely, and so send her gadding. All there present -about him, entreated him to let her have a petticote, because it -might not be said, that she who had been his Wife thirteene yeares -and more, was sent away so poorely in her Smocke: but all their -perswasions prevailed not with him. Naked in her Smocke, without -hose or shooes, bareheaded, and not so much as a Cloth about -her necke, to the great griefe and mourning of all that saw her, she -went home to her old fathers house.</p> - -<p>And he (good man) never beleeving, that the Marquesse would -long keepe his daughter as his Wife, but rather expected daily, -what now had happened: safely laid up the garments, whereof the -Marquesse despoyled her, the same morning when he espoused her. -Wherefore he delivered them to her, and she fell to her fathers -houshold businesse, according as formerly she had done; sustayning -with a great and unconquerable spirit, all the cruell assaults of -her enemy Fortune.</p> - -<p>About such time after, as suted with his owne disposition, the -Marquesse made publiquely knowne to his subjects, that he meant -to joyne in marriage again, with the daughter to one of the Counts -of <i>Panago</i>, and causing preparation to be made for a sumptuous -wedding; he sent for <i>Grizelda</i>, and she being come, thus he spake -to her. The Wife that I have made the new election of, is to arrive -here within very few dayes, and at her first comming, I would -have her to be most honourably entertained. Thou knowest I have -no women in my house, that can decke up the Chambers, and set -all requisite things in due order, befitting for so solemne a Feast: -and therefore I sent for thee, who knowing (better then any other) -all the partes, provision and goods in the house, set every thing in -such order, as thou shalt thinke necessary.</p> - -<p>Invite such Ladies and Gentlewomen as thou wilt, and give -them welcome, even as if thou wert the Lady of the house: and -when the marriage is ended, returne then home to thy father againe.</p> - -<p>Although these words pierced like wonding daggers, the heart -of poore (but Noble patient) <i>Grizelda</i>, as being unable to forget -the unequal'd love she bare to the Marquesse, though the dignitie -of her former fortune, more easily slipt out of her remembrance; -yet neverthelesse, thus she answered.</p> - -<p>My Gracious Lord, I am glad I can doe you any service; wherein -you shall find mee both willing and ready. In the same poore -garments, as she came from her fathers house, (although shee was -turned out in her Smocke) she began to sweep and make cleane the -Chambers, rubbe the stooles and benches in the Hall, and ordered -every in the Kitchin, as if she were the worst maide in all the house, -never ceasing or giving over, till all things were in due and decent -order, as best beseemed in such a case. After all which was done, the -Marquesse, having invited all the Ladies of the Countrey, to be -present at so great a Feast: when the marriage day came, <i>Grizelda</i>, -in her gowne of Countrey gray, gave them welcome, in honourable -manner, and graced them all with very cheerefull countenance.</p> - -<p><i>Gualtiero</i> the Marquesse, who had caused his two children to be -nobly nourished at <i>Bologna</i>, with a neere kinswoman of his, who -had married with one of the Counts of <i>Panago</i>, his daughter being -now aged twelve yeares old, and some-what more, as also the Son -about sixe or seven. He sent a Gentleman expresly to his kindred, -to have them come and visite him at <i>Saluzza</i>, bringing his daughter -and Sonne with them, attended in very honourable manner, and -publishing every where as they came along, that the young Virgin -(knowne to none but himselfe and them) should be the Wife to -the Marquesse, and that onely was the cause of her comming. The -Gentleman was not slacke, in the execution of the trust reposed in -him: but having made convenient preparation, with the kindred, -Sonne, daughter, and a worthy company attending on them, arrived -at <i>Saluzza</i> about dinner time, where wanted no resort, from -all neighbouring parts round about, to see the comming of the -Lord Marquesses new Spouse.</p> - -<p>By the Lords and Ladies she was joyfullly entertained, and comming -into the great Hall, where the Tables were readily covered: -<i>Grizelda</i>, in her homely Country habite, humbled her selfe before -her, saying. Gracious welcome, to the new elected Spouse of the -Lord Marquesse.</p> - -<p>All the Ladies there present, who had very earnestly importuned -<i>Gualtiero</i> (but in vaine) that <i>Grizelda</i>, might better be shut up -in some Chamber, or else to lend her the wearing of any other garments, -which formerly had been her owne, because she should not -be so poorely seene among strangers: being seated at the Tables, -she waited on them very serviceably. The young Virgin was observed -by every one, who spared not to say; that the Marquesse had -made an excellent change: but above them all, <i>Grizelda</i> did most -commend her, and so did her brother likewise, as young as he was, -yet not knowing her to be his Sister.</p> - -<p>Now was the Marquesse sufficiently satisfied in his soule, that -he had seene so much as he desired, concerning the patience of his -Wife, who in so many hart-grieving trials, was never noated so -much as to alter her countenance. And being absolutely perswaded, -that this proceeded not from any want of understanding in -her, because he knew her to be singularly wise: he thought it high -time now, to free her from these afflicting oppressions, and give her -such assurance as she ought to have. Wherefore, commanding her -into his presence, openly before all his assembled friends, smiling on -her, he said. What thinkst thou <i>Grizelda</i> of our new chosen Spouse? -My Lord (quoth she) I like her exceeding well, and if she be so wise, -as she is faire (which verely I thinke she is) I make no doubt but -you shall live with her, as the onely happy man of the world. But I -humbly entreat your honour (if I have any power in me to prevaile -by) that you would not give her such cutting and unkind language, -as you did to your other wife: for I cannot thinke her armed with -such patience, as should (indeed) support them: as wel in regard she -is much younger, as also her more delicate breeding and education, -whereas she who you had before, was brought up in continuall toile -and travaile.</p> - -<p>When the Marquesse perceyved, that <i>Grizelda</i> beleeved verily, -this young daughter of hers should be his wife, and answered him in -so honest and modest manner: he commanded her to sit downe by -him, and saide. <i>Grizelda</i>, it is now more then fitte time, that thou -shouldst taste the fruite of thy long admired patience, and that they -who have thought me cruell, harsh and uncivill natured, should at -length observe, that I have done nothing basely, or unadvisedly. -For this was a worke premeditated before, for enstructing thee, -what it is to be a married wife, and to let them know (whosoever -they be) how to take and keepe a wife. Which hath begotten (to -me) perpetuall joy and happinesse, so long as I have a day to live -with thee: a matter whereof I stoode before greatly in feare, and -which (in marriage I thought) would never happen to me.</p> - -<p>It is not unknown to thee, in how many kinds (for my first proofe) -I gave thee harsh and unpleasing speeches, which drawing no discontentment -from thee, either in lookes, words, or behaviour, but -rather such comfort as my soule desired, and so in my other succeedings -afterward: in one minute now, I purpose to give thee that -consolation, which I bereft thee of in many tempestuous stormes, -and make a sweet restauration, for all thy former sower sufferinges. -My faire and dearly affected <i>Grizelda</i>, shee whom thou supposest -for my new elected Spouse, with a glad and cheerfull hart, imbrace -for thine owne daughter, and this also her Brother, beeing both of -them thy children and mine, in common opinion of the vulgar multitude, -imagined to be (by my command) long since slaine. I am thy -honourable Lord and Husband, who doth, and will love thee farre -above all women else in the world; giving thee justly this deserved -praise and commendation, That no man living hath the like Wife, -as I have.</p> - -<p>So, sweetly kissing her infinitely, and hugging her joyfullly in his -armes (the teares now streaming like new-let-loose Rivers, downe -her faire face, which no disaster before could force from her) hee -brought her, and seated her by her daughter, who was not a little amazed -at so rare an alteration. Shee having (in zeale of affection) -kissed and embraced them both, all else there present being clearely -resolved from the former doubt which too long deluded them; the -Ladies arose jocondly from the tables, and attending on <i>Grizelda</i> -to her Chamber, in signe of a more successefull augury to follow: -tooke off her poor contemptible rags, and put on such costly robes, -which (as Lady Marchionesse) she used to weare before.</p> - -<p>Afterward, they waited on her into the Hall againe, being their -true Soveraigne Lady and Mistresse, as she was no lesse in her poorest -Garments; where all rejoycing for the new restored Mother, & -happy recovery of so noble a son and daughter, the Festivall continued -many months after. Now every one thought the Marquesse -to be a noble and wise Prince, though somewhat sharpe and unsufferable, -in the severe experiences made of his wife: but (above al) they -reputed <i>Grizelda</i>, to be a most wise, patient, & vertuous Lady. The -Count of <i>Panago</i>, within few daies after returned backe to <i>Bologna</i>; -and the Lord Marques, fetching home old <i>Janiculo</i> from his country -drudgery, to live with him (as his Father in law) in his Princely -Palace, gave him honourable maintenance, wherein hee long continued, -and ended his daies. Afterward, he matched his daughter in a -Noble marriage: he and <i>Grizelda</i> living long time together, in the -highest honour that possibly could be.</p> - -<p>What can now be saide to the contrary, but that poore Country -Cottages, may yeeld as divine & excellent spirits, as the most stately -and Royall mansions, which breed and bring uppe some, more -worthy to be Hog-rubbers, then hold any soveraignty over men? -Where is any other (beside <i>Grizelda</i>) who not only without a wet -eye, but imboldned by a valiant and invincible courage: that can -suffer the sharpe rigours, and (never the like heard of proofes) made -by the Marquesse? Perhaps he might have met with another, who -would have quitted him in a contrary kinde, and for thrusting her -forth of doores in her smocke, could have found better succor somewhere -else, rather then walke so nakedly in the cold streets.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p><i>Dioneus</i> having thus ended his Novel, and the Ladies delivering -their severall judgements, according to their owne -fancies, some holding one conceite, others leaning to the -contrary; one blaming this thing, and another commending that, -the King lifting his eyes to heaven, and seeing the Sun began to fal -low, by rising of the Evening Starre; without arising from his seat, -spake as followeth. Discreet Ladies, I am perswaded you know sufficiently, -that the sense and understanding of us mortals, consisteth -not onely (as I think) by preserving in memory things past, or knowledge -of them present; but such as both by the one and other, know -how to foresee future occasions, are worthily thought wise, and of -no common capacity.</p> - -<p>It will be (to morrow) fifteene dayes, since we departed from the -City of <i>Florence</i>, to come hither for our pastime and comfort, the -conservation of our lives, and support of our health, by avoyding -those melanchollies, griefes, and anguishes, which we beheld daylie -in our City, since the pestilentiall visitation beganne there, wherein -(by my judgement) we have done well and honestly. Albeit some -light Novels, perhaps attractive to a little wantonnes, as some say, -and our Joviall feasting with good cheare, singing and dancing, may -seeme matters inciting to incivility, especially in weake and shallow -understandings. But I have neither seene, heard, or knowne, any -acte, word, or whatsoever else, either on your part or ours, justly -deserving to be blamed: but all has bin honest, as in a sweete and -hermonious concord, such as might well beseeme the communitie -of Brethren and Sisters; which assuredly, as well in regard of you, -as us, hath much contented me.</p> - -<p>And therefore, least by over-long consuetude, something should -take life, which might be converted to a bad construction, & by our -country demourance for so many dayes, some captious conceit may -wrest out an ill imagination; I am of the minde (if yours be the like) -seeing each of us hath had the honour, which now remaineth still on -me: that it is very fitting for us, to returne thither from whence we -came. And so much the rather, because this sociable meeting of -ours, which already hath wonne the knowledge of many dwellers -here about us, should not grow to such an increase, as might make -our purposed pastime offensive to us. In which respect (if you allow -of my advise) I wil keepe the Crowne till our departing hence; the -which I intend shal be to morrow: but if you determine otherwise, -I am the man ready to make my resignation.</p> - -<p>Many imaginations passed amongst the Ladies, and likewise the -men, but yet in the end, they reputed the Kings counsell to bee the -best and wisest, concluding to do as he thought convenient. Whereupon, -hee called the Master of the housholde, and conferred with -him, of the businesse belonging to the next morning, and then gave -the company leave to rise. The Ladies and the rest, when they were -risen, fel some to one kinde of recreation, and others as their fancies -served them, even as (before) they had done. And when Supper -time came, they dispatcht it in very loving manner. Then they began -to play on instruments, sing and dance, and Madame <i>Lauretta</i> -leading the dance: the King commaunded Madame <i>Fiammetta</i> to -sing a song, which pleasantly she began in this manner.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>THE SONG.</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Chorus sung by all the rest of the Company.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">If Love were free from Jealousie,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No Lady living,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Had lesse heart-greeving,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or liv'd so happily as I.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">If gallant youth<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In a faire friend, a woman could content,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If vertues prize, valour and hardiment,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Wit, carriage, purest eloquence,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Could free a woman from impatience:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then I am she can vaunt (if I were wise)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All these in one faire flower,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are in my power,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And yet I boast no more but trueth.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If Love were free from jealousie, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">But I behold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That other Women are as wise as I<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which killes me quite,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fearing false sirquedrie.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For when my fire begins to flame<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Others desires misguide my aim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And so bereaves me of secure delight.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Onely through fond mistrust, he is unjust:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thus are my comforts hourely hot and cold.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If Love were free, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">If in my friend,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I found like faith, as manly minde I know;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Mistrust were slaine.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But my fresh griefes still grow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By sight of such as do allure,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So I can thinke none true, none sure,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But all would rob me of my golden gaine.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Loe thus I dye, in Jealousie,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For losse of him, on whom I most depend.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If Love were free, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Let me advise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such Ladies as in Love are bravely bold,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Not to wrong me, I scorne to be controld.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If any one I chance to finde.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By winkes, words, smiles, in crafty kinde,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Seeking for that, which onely mine should be:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then I protest, to do my best,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And make them know, that they are scarsly wise.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">If Love were free from jealousie,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I know no Lady living,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Could have lesse heart-greeving,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or live so happily as I.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>So soone as Madam <i>Fiammetta</i> had ended her Song; <i>Dioneus</i>, -who sate by her, smiling said. Truly Madam, you may do us a great -courtesie, to express your selfe more plainly to us all, least (thorow -ignorance) the possession may be imposed on your selfe, and so you -remaine the more offended. After the Song was past, divers other -were sung beside, and it now drawing wel-neere midnight, by the -Kings command, they all went to bed. And when new day appeared, -and all the world awaked out of sleepe, the Master of the Houshold -having sent away the carriages; they returned (under the conduct -of their discreet King) to <i>Florence</i>, where the three Gentlemen -left the seven Ladies at the Church of <i>Santa Maria Novella</i>, from -whence they went with them at the first. And having parted with -kinde salutations; the Gentlemen went whether themselves best -pleased, and the Ladies repaired home to their houses.</p> - - -<h4><i>The End of the Tenth and -Last Day.</i></h4> - - - - - - - - -<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 52618 ***</div> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/52618-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/52618-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5610ea9..0000000 --- a/old/52618-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/old/52618-8.txt b/old/old/52618-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 8dd915b..0000000 --- a/old/old/52618-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16764 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The Decameron (Day 6 to Day 10), by Giovanni Boccaccio - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Decameron (Day 6 to Day 10) - Containing an hundred pleasant Novels - -Author: Giovanni Boccaccio - -Translator: John Florio - -Release Date: July 22, 2016 [EBook #52618] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DECAMERON (DAY 6 TO DAY 10) *** - - - - -Produced by Clare Graham and Marc D'Hooghe at -http://www.freeliterature.org (Images generously made -available by the Internet Archive.) - - - - - -THE DECAMERON - -CONTAINING -An hundred pleasant Novels. - -_Wittily discoursed, betweene seven Honourable Ladies, and three Noble -Gentlemen._ - -The last Five Dayes. - - -London, Printed by -Isaac Jaggard, -1620. - - - - -TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE Sir PHILLIP HERBERT, Knight, Lord Baron of -Sherland, Earle of Montgomery, and Knight of the most Noble order of -the Garter. - - -_Having (by your Honourable command) translated this_ Decameron, _or_ -Cento Novelle, _sirnamed_ Il Principe Galeotto, _of ten dayes severall -discourses, grounded on variable and singuler Arguments, happening -betweene seaven Noble Ladies, and three very Honourable Gentlemen: -Although not attyred in such elegantcy of phrase, or nice curiosity of -stile, as a quicker and more sprightly wit could have performed, but -in such home-borne language, as my ability could stretch unto; yet it -commeth (in all duty) to kisse your Noble hand, and to shelter it selfe -under your Gracious protection, though not from the leering eye, and -over-lavish tongue of snarling Envy; yet from the power of his blasting -poyson, and malice of his machinations._ - - - - -_To the Reader._ - - -Bookes (Courteous Reader) may rightly be compared to _Gardens_; -wherein, let the painfull Gardiner expresse never so much care and -diligent endeavour; yet among the very fairest, sweetest, and freshest -Flowers, as also Plants of most precious Vertue; ill favouring and -stinking Weeds, fit for no use but the fire or mucke-hill, will spring -and sprout up. So fareth it with Bookes of the very best quality, let -the Author bee never so indulgent, and the Printer vigilant: yet both -may misse their ayme, by the escape of Errors and Mistakes, either in -sense or matter, the one fault ensuing by a ragged Written Copy; and -the other thorough want of wary Correction. If then the best Bookes -cannot be free from this common infirmity; blame not this then, of -farre lighter argument, wherein thy courtesie may helpe us both: His -blame, in acknowledging his more sufficiency, then to write so grosse -and absurdly: And mine, in pardoning unwilling Errours committed, which -thy judgement finding, thy pen can as easily correct. - - - _Farewell._ - - - - - The Table - - Dedication. - - To the Reader. - - * * * * * - - THE SIXT DAY, Governed under Madame Eliza. - - - _Wherein the Discourses or Novels there to bee recounted, doe concerne - such persons; who by some witty words (when any have taunted them) - have revenged themselves, in a sudden, unexpected and discreet - answere, thereby preventing losse, danger, scorne and disgrace, - retorting them on the busi-headed Questioners._ - - - The Argument of the first Novell. - - _A Knight requested Madame_ Oretta, _to ride behinde him on - horsebacke, and promised, to tell her an excellent Tale by the way. - But the Lady perceiving, that his discourse was idle, and much worse - delivered: entreated him to let her walke on foote againe._ - - _The Morall._ - - Reprehending the folly of such men, as undertake to report discourses, - which are beyond their wit and capacity, and gaine nothing but blame - for their labour. - - - The Argument of the second Novell. - - Cistio _a Baker, by a witty answere which he gave unto_ Messer Geri - Spina, _caused him to acknowledge a very indiscreet motion, which he - had made to the said_ Cistio. - - _The Morall._ - - Approving, that a request ought to be civill, before it should be - granted to any one whatsoever. - - - The Argument of the third Novell. - - Madam Nonna de Pulci, _by a sodaine answere, did put to silence a - Bishop of_ Florence, _and the Lord Marshall: having mooved a question - to the said Lady, which seemed to come short of honesty._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is declared, that mockers doe sometimes meet with their - matches in mockery, and to their owne shame. - - - The Argument of the fourth Novell. - - Chichibio, _the Cooke to_ Messer Currado Gianfiliazzi, _by a sodaine - pleasant answere which he made to his Master; converted his anger into - laughter, and thereby escaped the punishment, that_ Messer _meant to - impose on him._ - - _The Morall._ - - Whereby plainely appeareth, that a sodaine witty, and merry answere, - doth oftentimes appease the furious choller of an angry man. - - - The Argument of the fift Novell. - - Messer Forese da Rabatte, _and Maister_ Giotto, _a Painter by his - profession, comming together from_ Mugello, _scornefully reprehended - one another for their deformity of body._ - - _The Morall._ - - Whereby may be observed, that such as will speake contemptibly of - others, ought (first of all) to looke respectively on their owne - imperfections. - - - The Argument of the sixt Novell. - - _A yong and ingenious Scholler, being unkindly reviled and smitten - by his ignorant Father, and through the procurement of an unlearned - Vicare; afterward attained to bee doubly revenged on him._ - - _The Morall._ - - Serving as an advertisment to unlearned Parents, not to be over-rash, - in censuring on Schollers imperfections, through any bad or - unbeseeming perswasions. - - - The Argument of the seaventh Novell. - - Madame Phillippa, _being accused by her Husband_ Rinaldo de Pugliese, - _because he tooke her in Adultery, with a yong Gentleman named_ - Lazarino de Guazzagliotori: _caused her to bee cited before a Judge. - From whom she delivered her selfe, by a sodaine, witty, and pleasant - answere, and moderated a severe strict Statute, formerly made against - women._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is declared, of what worth it is to confesse a truth, with a - facetious and witty excuse. - - - The Argument of the eighth Novell. - - Fresco da Celatico, _counselled and advised his Neece_ Cesca: _That if - such as deserved to bee looked on, were offensive to her eyes (as she - had often told him;) she should forbeare to looke on any._ - - _The Morall._ - - In just scorne of such unsightly and ill-pleasing surly Sluts, who - imagine none to bee faire or well-favoured, but themselves. - - - The Argument of the ninth Novell. - - Signior Guido Cavalcante, _with a sodaine and witty answere, - reprehended the rash folly of certaine Florentine Gentlemen, that - thought to scorne and flout him._ - - _The Morall._ - - Notably discovering the great difference that is betweene learning and - ignorance, upon Judicious apprehension. - - - The Argument of the tenth Novell. - - _Frier_ Onyon _promised certaine honest people of the Country, to shew - them a Feather of the same Phoenix, that was with_ Noah _in his Arke. - In sted whereof, he found Coales, which he avouched to be those very - coales, wherewith the same Phoenix was roasted._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein may be observed, what palpable abuses doe many times passe, - under the counterfeit Cloake of Religion. - - * * * * * - - THE SEAVENTH DAY, Governed under the Regiment of DIONEUS. - - _Wherein the Discourses are directed, for the discovery of such - policies and deceits, as women have used for beguiling of their - Husbands, either in respect of their love, or for the prevention - of some blame or scandall; escaping without sight, knowledge, or - otherwise._ - - - The Argument of the first Novell. - - John _of_ Lorraine _heard one knocke at his doore in the night time, - whereupon he awaked his Wife_ Monna Tessa. _Shee made him beleeve, that - it was a Spirit which knocked at the doore, and so they arose, going - both together to conjure the Spirit with a charme; and afterwards, - they heard no more knocking._ - - _The Morall._ - - Reprehending the simplicity of some sottish Husbands: And discovering - the wanton subtilties of some women, to compasse their unlawfull - desires. - - - The Argument of the second Novell. - - Peronella _hid a yong man her Friend and Lover, under a great brewing - Fat, uppon the sodaine returning home of her Husband; who tolde her, - that he had sold the saide Fat, and brought him that bought it, to - carry it away._ Peronella _replyed, That shee had formerly solde it - unto another, who was now underneath it, to see whether it were whole - and sound, or no. Whereupon, he being come forth from under it; shee - caused her Husband to make it neate and cleane, and so the last buyer - carried it away._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is declared, what hard and narrow shifts and distresses, such - as be seriously linked in Love, are many times enforced to undergoe: - according as their owne wit, and capacity of their surprizers, drive - them to extremities. - - - The Argument of the third Novell. - - _Friar_ Reynard, _falling in love with a Gentlewoman, Wife to a man - of good account; found the meanes to become her Gossip. Afterward, - he being conferring closely with her in her Chamber, and her Husband - comming sodainely thither: she made him beleeve, that he came thither - for no other ende; but to cure his God-sonne by a charme, of a - dangerous disease which he had by wormes._ - - _The Morall._ - - Serving as a friendly advertisement to married Women, that Monks, - Friars, and Priests may be none of their Gossips, in regard of - unavoydable perils ensuing thereby. - - - The Argument of the fourth Novell. - - Tofano _in the night season, did locke his Wife out of his house, and - she not prevailing to get entrance againe, by all the entreaties shee - could possibly use: made him beleeve that shee had throwne her selfe - into a Well, by casting a great stone into the same Well._ Tofano - _hearing the fall of the stone into the Well, and being perswaded - that it was his Wife indeede; came forth of his house, and ranne to - the Welles side. In the meane while, his Wife gotte into the house, - made fast the doore against her Husband, and gave him many reprochfull - speeches._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is manifested, that the malice and subtilty of a woman, - surpasseth all the Art or wit in man. - - - The Argument of the fift Novell. - - _A jealous man, clouded with the habite of a Priest, became the - Confessour to his owne Wife; who made him beleeve, that she was - deepely in love with a Priest, which came every night, and lay with - her. By meanes of which confession, while her jealous Husband watched - the doore of his house; to surprise the Priest when he came: she that - never meant to doe amisse, had the company of a secret friend who came - over the toppe of the house to visite her, while her foolish Husband - kept the doore._ - - _The Morall._ - - In just scorne and mockery of such jealous Husbands, that wil be idle - headed upon no occasion. And yet when they have good reason for it, - doe least of all suspect any such injury. - - - The Argument of the sixth Novell. - - _Madame_ Isabella, _delighting in the company of her affected - friend, named_ Lionello, _and she being likewise beloved by_ Signior - Lambertuccio: _At the same time as shee had entertained_ Lionello, - _she was also visited by_ Lambertuccio. _Her Husband returning home - in the very instant; she caused_ Lambertuccio _to runne foorth with - a drawne sword in his hand, and (by that meanes) made an excuse - sufficient for_ Lionello _to her Husband._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is manifestly discerned, that if Love be driven to a narrow - straite in any of his attempts; yet hee can accomplish his purpose by - some other supply. - - - The Argument of the seaventh Novell. - - Lodovico _discovered to his Mistresse Madame_ Beatrix, _how amourously - he was affected to her. She cunningly sent_ Egano _her Husband into - his garden, in all respects disguised like herselfe; while (friendly)_ - Lodovico _conferred with her the meane while. Afterward,_ Lodovico - _pretending a lascivious allurement of his Mistresse, thereby to wrong - his honest Master, instead of her, beateth_ Egano _soundly in the - Garden._ - - _The Morall._ - - Whereby is declared, that such as keepe many honest seeming servants, - may sometime finde a knave among them, and one that proves to bee - over-sawcy with his Master. - - - The Argument of the Eight Novell. - - Arriguccio Berlinghieri, _became immeasurably jealous of his Wife_ - Simonida, _who fastened a thred about her great toe, for to serve - as a signall, when her amourous friend should come to visite her._ - Arriguccio _findeth the fallacy, and while he pursueth the amorous - friend, shee causeth her Maide to lie in her bed against his returne: - whom he beateth extreamly, cutting away the lockes of her haire - (thinking he had done all this violence to his Wife_ Simonida:) _and - afterward fetcheth her Mother and Brethren, to shame her before them, - and so be rid of her. But they finding all his speeches to be false; - and reputing him to be a drunken jealous foole; all the blame and - disgrace falleth on himselfe._ - - _The Morall._ - - Whereby appeareth, that an Husband ought to be very well advised, - when he meaneth to discover any wrong offered by his Wife; except he - himselfe doe rashly run into all the shame and reproch. - - - The Argument of the Ninth Novell. - - Lydia, _a Lady of great beauty, birth, and honor, being Wife to_ - Nicostratus, _Governor of_ Argos, _falling in love with a Gentleman, - named_ Pyrrhus; _was requested by him (as a true testimony of her - unfeigned affection) to performe three severall actions of her selfe. - She did accomplish them all, and imbraced and kissed_ Pyrrhus _in the - presence of_ Nicostratus; _by perswading him, that whatsoever he saw, - was meerely false._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is declared, that great Lords may sometime be deceived by - their wives, as well as men of meaner condition. - - - The Argument of the tenth Novell. - - _Two Citizens of_ Sienna, _the one named_ Tingoccio Mini, _and the - other_ Meucio di Tora, _affected both one woman, called_ Monna Mita, - _to whom the one of them was a Gossip. The Gossip dyed, and appeared - afterward to his companion, according as he had formerly promised him - to doe, and told him what strange wonders he had seene in the other - world._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein such men are covertly reprehended, who make no care or - conscience at all of those things that should preserve them from sinne. - - * * * * * - - THE EIGHTH DAY, Governed under Madame LAURETTA. - - _Whereon all the Discourses, is, Concerning such Witty deceivings, as - have, or may be put in practise, by Wives to their Husbands, Husbands - to their Wives, Or one man towards another._ - - - The Argument of the First Novell. - - Gulfardo _made a match or wager, with the wife of_ Gasparuolo, _for - the obtaining of her amorous favour, in regard of a summe of money - first to be given her. The money he borrowed of her Husband, and - gave it in payment to her, as in case of discharging him from her - Husbands debt. After his returne home from_ Geneway, _he told him in - the presence of his wife, how hee had payde the whole summe to her, - with charge of delivering it to her Husband, which she confessed to be - true, albeit greatly against her will._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is declared, That such women as will make sale of their - honestie, are sometimes over-reached in their payment, and justly - served as they should be. - - - The Argument of the second Novell. - - _A lusty Priest of_ Varlungo, _fell in love with a prety woman, named_ - Monna Belcolore. _To compasse his amorous desire, hee left his cloake - (as a pledge of further payment) with her. By a subtile sleight - afterward, he borrowed a morter of her, which when hee sent home - againe in the presence of her husband, he demanded to have his Cloake - sent him, as having left it in pawne for the Morter. To pacifie her - Husband, offended that she did not lend the Priest the Morter without - a pawne: she sent him backe his Cloake againe, albeit greatly against - hir will._ - - _The Morall._ - - Approving, that no promise is to be kept with such women as will make - sale of their honesty for Coine. - - - The Argument of the Third Novell. - - Calandrino, Bruno, _and_ Buffalmaco, _being Painters by profession, - travailed to the Plaine of_ Mugnone, _to finde the precious stone - called Helitropium._ Calandrino _perswading himselfe to have found it, - returned home to his house heavy loaden with stones. His wife rebuking - him for his absence, he groweth into anger, and shrewdly beates her. - Afterward, when the case is debated by his other friends_ Bruno _&_ - Buffalmaco, _all is found to be meere folly._ - - _The Morall._ - - Reprehending the simplicity of such men, as are too much addicted to - credulity, and will give credit to every thing they heare. - - - The Argument of the Fourth Novell. - - _The Provost belonging to the Cathedrall Church of_ Fiesola, _fell - in love with a Gentlewoman, being a widdow, and named_ Piccarda, _who - hated him as much as he loved her. He immagining that he lay with her: - by the Gentlewomans Brethren, and the Bishop under whom he served, was - taken in bed with her Mayde, an ugly, foule, deformed Slut._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is declared, how love oftentimes is so powerfull in aged men, - and driveth them to such doating, that it redoundeth to their great - disgrace and punishment. - - - The Argument of the fift Novell. - - _Three pleasant companions, plaid a merry prank with a Judge - (belonging to the Marquesate of_ Ancona) _at_ Florence, _at such time - as he sat on the bench, & hearing criminall causes._ - - _The Morall._ - - Giving admonition, that for the managing of publike affaires, no other - persons are or ought to bee appointed, but such as be honest, and meet - to sit on the seate of Authority. - - - The Argument of the sixt Novell. - - Bruno _and_ Buffalmaco _stole a yong Brawne from_ Calandrino, _and - for his recovery thereof, they used a kinde of pretended conjuration, - with Pils made of Ginger and strong Malmesey. But insted of this - application, they gave him two pils of a Dogges dates or dousets, - confected in Alloes, by meanes whereof they made him beleeve, that hee - had robd himselfe. And for feare they should report this theft to his - Wife, they made him to buy another Brawne._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is declared, how easily a plaine and simple man may bee made a - foole, when he dealeth with crafty companions. - - - The Argument of the seaventh Novell. - - _A yong Gentleman being a Scholler, fell in love with a Ladie, named_ - Helena, _she being a woman, and addicted in affection unto another - Gentleman. One whole night in cold winter, she caused the Scholler to - expect her comming, in an extreame frost and snow. In revenge whereof, - by his imagined Art and skill, he made her to stand naked on the top - of a Tower, the space of a whole day, and in the hot moneth of July, - to be Sun-burnt and bitten with Waspes and Flies._ - - _The Morall._ - - Serving as an admonition to all Gentlewomen, not to mocke Gentlemen - Schollers, when they make meanes of love to them, except they intend - to seeke their owne shame by disgracing them. - - - The Argument of the eighth Novell. - - _Two neere dwelling Neighbours, the one beeing named_ Spinelloccio - Tavena, _and the other_ Zeppa di Mino, _frequenting each others - company daily together;_ Spinelloccio _Cuckolded his Friend and - Neighbour. Which happening to the knowledge of_ Zeppa, _hee prevailed - so well with the Wife of_ Spinelloccio, _that he being lockt up in a - Chest, hee revenged his wrong at that instant, so that neyther of them - complained of his misfortune._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is approved, that hee which offereth shame and disgrace to his - neighbour, may receive the like injury (if not worse) by the same man. - - - The Argument of the Ninth Novell. - - _Maestro_ Simone, _an idle headed Doctor of Physicke, was thrown by_ - Bruno _and_ Buffalmaco _into a common Leystall of filth: the Physitian - fondly beleeving, that (in the night time) he should be made one of a - new created company, who usually went to see wonders at_ Corsica, _and - there in the Leystall they left him._ - - _The Morall._ - - Approving, that titles of honour, learning, and dignity, are not - alwayes bestowne on the wisest men. - - - The Argument of the tenth Novell. - - _A Cicilian Curtezan, named Madam_ Biancafiore, _by her subtle policy - deceived a yong Merchant called_ Salabetto, _of all his mony he had - taken for his wares at_ Palermo. _Afterward, he making shew of coming - thither againe with far richer Merchandises then before: made the - meanes to borrow a great summe of money, leaving her so base a pawne, - as well requited her for her former cousenage._ - - _The Morall._ - - Approving, that such as meet with cunning Harlots, suffering them - selves to be deceyved, must sharpen their wits, to make them requitall - in the same kind. - - * * * * * - - THE NINTH DAY, Governed under Madame Æmillia. - - Whereon, the Argument of each severall Discourse, is not limited to - any one peculiar subject: but everie one remaineth at liberty, to - speake of whatsoever themselves best pleaseth. - - - The Argument of the first Novell. - - _Madam_ Francesca, _a Widdow of_ Pistoya, _being affected by two - Florentine Gentlemen, the one named_ Rinuccio Palermini, _and the - other_ Alessandro Chiarmontesi, _and she bearing no good will - to either of them, ingeniously freed her selfe from both their - importunate suites. One of them shee caused to lye as dead in a - grave, and the other to fetch him from thence: so neither of them - accomplishing what they were enjoyned, failed of their expectation._ - - _The Morall._ - - Approving, that chast and honest women, ought rather to deny - importunate suiters, by subtle and ingenious means, then fall into the - danger of scandall and slander. - - - The Argument of the second Novell. - - _Madame_ Usimbalda, _Lady Abbesse of a Monastery of Nuns in_ - Lombardie, _arising hastily in the night time without a Candle, - to take one of her Daughter Nunnes in bed with a yong Gentleman, - whereof she was enviously accused, by certaine of her other Sisters: - The Abbesse her selfe (being at the same time in bed with a Priest) - imagining to have put on her head her plaited vayle, put on the - Priests breeches. Which when the poore Nunne perceyved; by causing the - Abbesse to see her owne error, she got her selfe to be absolved, and - had the freer liberty afterward, to be more familiar with her frend, - then formerly she had bin._ - - _The Morall._ - - Whereby is declared, that whosoever is desirous to reprehend sinne in - other men, should first examine himselfe, that he be not guiltie of - the same crime. - - - The Argument of the third Novell. - - _Master_ Simon _the Physitian, by the perswasions of_ Bruno, - Buffalmaco, _and a third Companion, named_ Nello, _made_ Calandrino - _to beleeve, that he was conceived great with childe. And having - Physicke ministred to him for the disease: they got both good fatte - Capons and money of him, and so cured him, without any other manner of - deliverance._ - - _The Morall._ - - Discovering the simplicity of some silly witted men, and how easie a - matter it is to abuse and beguile them. - - - The Argument of the Fourth Novell. - - Francesco Fortarigo, _played away all that he had at_ Buonconvento, - _and likewise the money of_ Francesco Aniolliero, _being his Master: - Then running after him in his shirt, and avouching that hee had robbed - him: he caused him to be taken by Pezants of the Country, clothed - himselfe in his Masters wearing garments, and (mounted on his horse) - rode thence to_ Sienna, _leaving_ Aniolliero _in his shirt, and walked - bare-footed._ - - _The Morall._ - - Serving as an admonition to all men, for taking Gamesters and - Drunkards into their service. - - - The Argument of the fifte Novell. - - Calandrino _became extraordinarily enamoured of a young Damosell, - named_ Nicholetta. Bruno _prepared a Charme or writing for him, - avouching constantly to him, that so soone as he touched the Damosell - therewith, she should follow him whithersoever hee would have her. She - being gone to an appointed place with him, hee was found there by his - wife, and dealt withall according to his deserving._ - - _The Morall._ - - In just reprehension of those vaine-headed fooles, that are led and - governed by idle perswasions. - - - The Argument of the Sixth Novell. - - _Two yong Gentlemen, the one named_ Panuccio, _and the other_ Adriano, - _lodged one night in a poore Inne, whereof one of them went to bed to - the Hostes daughter, and the other (by mistaking his way in the darke) - to the Hostes wife. He which lay with the daughter, hapned afterward - to the Hostes bed, and told him what he had done, as thinking he spake - to his owne companion. Discontentment growing betweene them, the - mother perceiving her errour, went to bed to her daughter, and with - discreete language, made a generall pacification._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is manifested, that an offence committed ignorantly, and by - mistaking; ought to be covered with good advise, and civill discretion. - - - The Argument of the seaventh Novell. - - Talano de Molese _dreamed, That a Wolfe rent and tore his wives face - and throate. Which dreame he told to her, with advise to keep her - selfe out of danger; which she refusing to doe, received what followed._ - - _The Morall._ - - Whereby (with some indifferent reason) it is concluded, that Dreames - do not alwayes fall out to be leasings. - - - The Argument of the Eight Novell. - - Blondello _(in a merry manner) caused_ Guiotto _to beguile himselfe of - a good dinner: for which deceit,_ Guiotto _became cunningly revenged, - by procuring_ Blondello _to be unreasonably beaten and misused._ - - _The Morall._ - - Whereby plainly appeareth, that they which take delight in deceiving - others, do well deserve to be deceived themselves. - - - The Argument of the Ninth Novell. - - _Two yong Gentlemen, the one named_ Melisso, _borne in the City of_ - Laiazzo: _and the other_ Giosefo _of_ Antioch, _travailed together - unto_ Salomon, _the famous King of_ Great Britaine. _The one desiring - to learne what he should do, whereby to compasse and winne the love - of men. The other craved to be enstructed, by what meanes hee might - reclaime an headstrong and unruly wife. And what answeres the wise - King gave unto them both, before they departed away from him._ - - _The Morall._ - - Containing an excellent admonition, that such as covet to have the - love of other men, must first learne themselves, how to love: Also, by - what meanes such women as are curst and self willed, may be reduced to - civill obedience. - - - The Argument of the tenth Novell. - - John de Barolo, _at the instance and request of his Gossip_ Pietro - da Trefanti, _made an enchantment, to have his Wife become a Mule. - And when it came to the fastening on of the taile, Gossip_ Pietro _by - saying she should have no taile at all, spoyled the whole enchantment._ - - _The Morall._ - - In just reproofe of such foolish men, as will be governed by - over-light beleefe. - - * * * * * - - THE TENTH DAY, Governed under Pamphilus. - - _Whereon the severall Arguments doe Concerne such persons, as other - by way of Liberality, or in Magnificent manner, performed any worthy - action, for love, favor, friendship, or any other honourable occasion._ - - - The Argument of the First Novell. - - _A Florentine knight, named Signior_ Rogiero de Figiovanni, _became - a servant to_ Alphonso, _King of_ Spaine, _who (in his owne opinion) - seemed but sleightly to respect and reward him. In regard whereof, by - a notable experiment, the King gave him a manifest testimony, that it - was not through any defect in him, but onely occasioned by the Knights - ill fortune; most bountifully recompensing him afterward._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein may evidently be discerned, that Servants to Princes and great - Lords, are many times recompenced, rather by their good fortune, then - in any regard of their dutifull services. - - - The Argument of the second Novell. - - Ghinotto di Tacco; _tooke the Lord Abbot of_ Clugni _as his prisoner, - and cured him of a grievous disease, which he had in his stomacke, and - afterward set him at liberty. The same Lord Abbot, when hee returned - from the Court of Rome, reconciled_ Ghinotto _to Pope_ Boniface; _who - made him a Knight, and Lord Prior of a goodly Hospitall._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is declared that good men doe sometimes fall into bad - conditions, onely occasioned thereto by necessity: And what meanes are - to be used, for their reducing to goodnesse againe. - - - The Argument of the third Novell. - - Mithridanes _envying the life and liberality of_ Nathan, _and - travelling thither, with a setled resolution to kill him: chaunceth to - conferre with_ Nathan _unknowne. And being instructed by him, in what - manner he might best performe the bloody deede, according as hee gave - direction, hee meeteth with him in a small Thicket or Woode, where - knowing him to be the same man, that taught him how to take away his - life: Confounded with shame, hee acknowledgeth his horrible intention, - and becommeth his loyall friend._ - - _The Morall._ - - Shewing in an excellent and lively demonstration, that any especiall - honourable vertue, persevering and dwelling in a truly noble soule, - cannot be violenced or confounded, by the most politicke attemptes of - malice and envy. - - - The Argument of the fourth Novell. - - Signior Gentile de Carisendi, _being come from_ Modena, _tooke a - Gentlewoman, named Madam_ Catharina, _forth of a grave, wherein she - was buried for dead; which act he did, in regard of his former honest - affection to the said Gentlewoman. Madame_ Catharina _remaining - there afterward, and delivered of a goodly Sonne: was (by_ Signior - Gentile) _delivered to her owne Husband; named_ Signior Nicoluccio - Caccianimico, _and the yong infant with her._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is shewne, That true love hath alwayes bin, and so still is, - the occasion of many great and worthy courtesies. - - - The Argument of the Fift Novell. - - _Madame_ Dianora, _the Wife of Signior_ Gilberto, _being immodestly - affected by Signior_ Ansaldo, _to free herselfe from his tedious - importunity, she appointed him to performe (in her judgement) an - act of impossibility; namely, to give her a Garden, as plentifully - stored with fragrant Flowers in January, as in the flourishing moneth - of_ May. Ansaldo, _by meanes of a bond which he made to a Magitian, - performed her request. Signior_ Gilberto, _the Ladyes Husband, gave - consent, that his Wife should fulfill her promise made to_ Ansaldo. - _Who hearing the bountifull mind of her Husband; released her of - her promise: And the Magitian likewise discharged Signior_ Ansaldo, - _without taking any thing of him._ - - _The Morall._ - - Admonishing all Ladies and Gentlewomen, that are desirous to preserve - their chastity, free from all blemish and taxation: to make no promise - of yeelding to any, under a compact or covenant, how impossible soever - it may seeme to be. - - - The Argument of the Sixt Novell. - - _Victorious_ King Charles, _sirnamed the Aged, and first of that Name, - fell in love with a yong Maiden, named_ Genevera, _daughter to an - Ancient Knight, called Signior_ Neri degli Uberti. _And waxing ashamed - of his Amorous folly, caused both_ Genevera, _and her fayre Sister_ - Isotta, _to be joyned in marriage with two Noble Gentlemen; the one - named_ Signior Maffeo da Palizzi, _and the other,_ Signior Gulielmo - della Magna. - - _The Morall._ - - Sufficiently declaring, that how mighty soever the power of Love is: - yet a magnanimous and truly generous heart, it can by no meanes fully - conquer. - - - The Argument of the seaventh Novell. - - Lisana, _the Daughter of a Florentine Apothecary, named_ Bernardo - Puccino, _being at_ Palermo, _and seeing_ Piero, _King of_ Aragon - _run at the Tilt; fell so affectionately enamored of him, that she - languished in an extreame and long sickenesse. By her owne devise, - and means of a Song, sung in the hearing of the King: he vouchsafed - to visite her, and giving her a kisse, terming himselfe also to bee - her Knight for ever after, hee honourably bestowed her in marriage on - a young Gentleman, who was called_ Perdicano, _and gave him liberall - endowments with her._ - - _The Morall._ - - Wherein is covertly given to understand, that howsoever a Prince may - make use of his absolute power and authority, towards Maides or Wives - that are his Subjects: yet he ought to deny and reject all things, as - shall make him forgetfull of himselfe, and his true honour. - - - The Argument of the Eight Novell. - - Sophronia, _thinking her selfe to be the maried wife of_ Gisippus, - _was (indeed) the wife of_ Titus Quintus Fulvius, _& departed thence - with him to Rome. Within a while after,_ Gisippus _also came thither - in very poore condition, and thinking that he was despised by_ Titus, - _grew weary of his life, and confessed that he had murdred a man, with - full** intent to die for the fact. But_ Titus _taking knowledge of him, - and desiring to save the life of_ Gisippus, _charged himself to have - done the bloody deed. Which the murderer himself (standing then among - the multitude) seeing, truly confessed the deed. By meanes whereof, - all three were delivered by the Emperor_ Octavius; _and_ Titus _gave - his Sister in mariage to_ Gisippus, _giving them also the most part of - his goods & inheritances._ - - _The Morall._ - - Declaring, that notwithstanding the frownes of Fortune, diversity of - occurrences, and contrary accidents happening: yet love and friendship - ought to be preciously preserved among men. - - - The Argument of the Ninth Novell. - - Saladine, _the great_ Soldan _of_ Babylon, _in the habite of a - Merchant, was honourably received and welcommed, into the house of - Signior_ Thorello d'Istria. _Who travelling to the Holy Land, prefixed - a certaine time to his Wife, for his returne backe to her againe, - wherein, if he failed, it was lawfull for her to take another Husband. - By clouding himselfe in the disguise of a Faulkner, the_ Soldan _tooke - notice of him, and did him many great honours. Afterward,_ Thorello - _falling sicke, by Magicall Art, he was conveighed in one night to_ - Pavia, _when his Wife was to be married on the morrow: where making - himselfe knowne to her, all was disappointed, and shee went home with - him to his owne house._ - - _The Morall._ - - Declaring what an honourable vertue Courtesie is, in them that truely - know how to use them. - - - The Argument of the tenth Novell. - - _The Marquesse of_ Saluzzo, _named_ Gualtiero, _being constrained - by the importunate solliciting of his Lords, and other inferiour - people, to joyne himselfe in marriage; tooke a woman according to his - owne liking, called_ Grizelda, _she being the daughter of a poore - Countriman, named_ Janiculo, _by whom he had two children, which he - pretended to be secretly murdered. Afterward, they being grown to - yeres of more stature, and making shew of taking in marriage another - wife, more worthy of his high degree and Calling: made a seeming - publique liking of his owne daughter, expulsing his wife_ Grizelda - _poorely from him. But finding her incomparable patience; more dearely - (then before) hee received her into favour againe, brought her home to - his owne Pallace, where (with her children) hee caused her and them to - be respectively honoured, in despight of all her adverse enemies._ - - _The Morall._ - - Set downe as an example or warning to all wealthie men, how to have - care of marrying themselves. And likewise** to poore and meane women, to - be patient in their fortunes, and obedient to their husbands. - - - - -THE SIXT DAY. - -_Governed under the Authority of Madam Eliza, and the Argument of the -Discourses or Novels there to be recounted, doe concerne such persons; -who by some witty words (when any have checkt or taunted them) have -revenged themselves, in a sudden, unexpected and discreet answere, -thereby preventing loss, danger, scorne and disgrace, retorting them on -the busi-headed Questioners._ - -The Induction. - - -The Moone having past the heaven, lost her bright splendour, by the -arising of a more powerfull light, and every part of our world began -to looke cleare: when the Queene (being risen) caused all the Company -to be called, walking forth afterward upon the pearled dewe (so farre -as was supposed convenient) in faire and familiar conference together, -according as severally they were disposed, & repetition of divers the -passed Novels, especially those which were most pleasing, and seemed so -by their present commendations. But the Sunne beeing somewhat higher -mounted, gave such a sensible warmth to the ayre, as caused their -returne backe to the Pallace, where the Tables were readily covered -against their comming, strewed with sweet hearbes and odoriferous -flowers, seating themselves at the Tables (before the heat grew more -violent) according as the Queene commanded. - -After dinner, they sung divers excellent Canzonnets, and then some went -to sleepe, others played at the Chesse, and some at the Tables: But -_Dioneus_ and Madam _Lauretta_, they sung the love-conflict betweene -_Troylus_ and _Cressida_. Now was the houre come, of repairing to -their former Consistory or meeting place, the Queene having thereto -generally summoned them, and seating themselves (as they were wont -to doe) about the faire fountaine. As the Queene was commanding to -begin the first Novell, an accident suddenly happened, which never had -befalne before: to wit, they heard a great noyse and tumult, among the -houshold servants in the Kitchin. Whereupon, the Queene caused the -Master of the Houshold to be called, demaunding of him, what noyse it -was, and what might be the occasion thereof? He made answere, that -_Lacisca_ and _Tindaro_ were at some words of discontentment, but what -was the occasion thereof, he knew not. Whereupon, the Queene commanded -that they should be sent for, (their anger and violent speeches still -continuing) and being come into her presence, she demaunded the reason -of their discord; and _Tindaro_ offering to make answere, _Lacisca_ -(being somewhat more ancient then he, and of a fiercer fiery spirit, -even as if her heart would have leapt out of her mouth) turned her -selfe to him, and with a scornefull frowning countenance, said. See how -this bold, unmannerly and beastly fellow, dare presume to speake in -this place before me: Stand by (saucy impudence) and give your better -leave to answere; then turning to the Queene, thus shee proceeded. - -Madam, this idle fellow would maintaine to me, that Signior -_Sicophanto_ marrying with _Madama della Grazza_, had the victory -of her virginity the very first night: and I avouched the contrary, -because shee had been a mother twise before, in very faire adventuring -of her fortune. And he dared to affirme beside, that yong Maides are -so simple, as to loose the flourishing Aprill of their time, in meere -feare of their parents, and great prejudice of their amourous friends. -Onely being abused by infinite promises, that this yeare and that -yeare they shall have husbands, when, both by the lawes of nature and -reason, they are not tyed to tarry so long, but rather ought to lay -hold upon opportunity, when it is fairely and friendly offered, so that -seldome they come maides to marriage. Beside, I have heard, and know -some married wives, that have played divers wanton prancks with their -husbands, yet carried all so demurely and smoothly; that they have -gone free from publique detection. All which this woodcocke will not -credit, thinking me to be so yong a Novice, as if I had been borne but -yesterday. - -While _Lacisca_ was delivering these speeches, the Ladies smiled on one -another, not knowing what to say in this case: And although the Queene -(five and or severall times) commaunded her to silence; yet such was -the earnestnes of her spleen, that she gave no attention, but held on -still even untill she had uttered all that she pleased. But after she -had concluded her complaint, the Queene (with a smiling countenance) -turned towards _Dioneus_ saying. This matter seemeth most properly to -belong to you; and therefore I dare repose such trust in you, that when -our Novels (for this day) shall be ended, you will conclude the case -with a definitive sentence. Whereto _Dioneus_ presently thus replyed. -Madam, the verdict is already given, without any further expectation: -and I affirme, that _Lacisca_ hath spoken very sensibly, because shee -is a woman of good apprehension, and _Tindaro_ is but a puny, in -practise and experience, to her. - -When _Lacisca_ heard this, she fell into a lowd Laughter, and turning -her selfe to _Tindaro_, sayde: The honour of the day is mine, and thine -owne quarrell hath overthrowne thee in the fielde. Thou that (as yet) -hath scarsely learned to sucke, wouldest thou presume to know so much -as I doe? Couldst thou imagine mee, to be such a trewant in losse of -my time, that I came hither as an ignorant creature? And had not the -Queene (looking verie frowningly on her) strictly enjoyned her to -silence; shee would have continued still in this triumphing humour. But -fearing further chastisement for disobedience, both shee and _Tindaro_ -were commanded thence, where was no other allowance all this day, but -onely silence and attention, to such as should be enjoyned speakers. - -And then the Queene, somewhat offended at the folly of the former -controversie, commanded Madame _Philomena_, that she should give -beginning to the dayes Novels: which (in dutifull manner) shee -undertooke to doe, and seating her selfe in formall fashion, with -modest and very gracious gesture, thus she began. - - - - -_A Knight requested Madam_ Oretta, _to ride behinde him on horse-backe, -and promised, to tell her an excellent Tale by the way. But the Lady -perceiving, that his discourse was idle, and much worse delivered: -entreated him to let her walke on foote againe._ - -The First Novell. - -_Reprehending the folly of such men, as undertake to report discourses, -which are beyond their wit and capacity, and gaine nothing but blame -for their labour._ - - -Gracious Ladies, like as in our faire, cleere, and serene seasons, the -Starres are bright ornaments to the heavens, and the flowry fields -(so long as the spring time lasteth) weare their goodliest Liveries, -the Trees likewise bragging in their best adornings: Even so at -friendly meetings, short, sweet, and sententious words, are the beauty -& ornament of any discourse, savouring of wit and sound judgement, -worthily deserving to be commended. And so much the rather, because -in few and witty words, aptly suting with the time and occasion, -more is delivered then was expected, or sooner answered, then rashly -apprehended: which, as they become men verie highly, yet do they shew -more singular in women. - -True it is, what the occasion may be, I know not, either by the -badnesse of our wittes, or the especiall enmitie betweene our -complexions and the celestiall bodies: there are scarsely any, or very -few Women to be found among us, that well knowes how to deliver a word, -when it should and ought to be spoken; or, if a question bee mooved, -understands to suite it with an apt answere, such as conveniently is -required, which is no meane disgrace to us women. But in regard, that -Madame _Pampinea_ hath already spoken sufficiently of this matter, I -meane not to presse it any further: but at this time it shall satisfie -mee, to let you know, how wittily a Ladie made due observation of -opportunitie, in answering of a Knight, whose talke seemed tedious and -offensive to her. - -No doubt there are some among you, who either do know, or (at the -least) have heard, that it is no long time since, when there dwelt -a Gentlewoman in our Citie, of excellent grace and good discourse, -with all other rich endowments of Nature remaining in her, as pitty -it were to conceale her name: and therefore let me tell ye, that shee -was called Madame _Oretta_, the Wife to Signior _Geri Spina_. She -being upon some occasion (as now we are) in the Countrey, and passing -from place to place (by way of neighbourly invitations) to visite her -loving Friends and Acquaintance, accompanied with divers Knights and -Gentlewomen, who on the day before had dined and supt at her house, -as now (belike) the selfe-same courtesie was intended to her: walking -along with her company upon the way; and the place for her welcome -beeing further off then she expected: a Knight chanced to overtake -this faire troop, who well knowing Madam _Oretta_, using a kinde and -courteous salutation, spake thus unto her. - -Madam, this foot travell may bee offensive to you, and were you so -well pleased as my selfe, I would ease your journey behinde mee on my -Gelding, even so farre as you shall command me: and beside, will shorten -your wearinesse with a Tale worth the hearing. Courteous Sir (replyed -the Lady) I embrace your kinde offer with such acceptation, that I pray -you to performe it; for therein you shall doe me an especiall favour. -The Knight, whose Sword (perhappes) was as unsuteable to his side, -as his wit out of fashion for any readie discourse, having the Lady -mounted behinde him: rode on with a gentle pace, and (according to his -promise) began to tell a Tale, which indeede (of it selfe) deserved -attention, because it was a knowne and commendable History, but yet -delivered so abruptly, with idle repetitions of some particulars three -or foure severall times, mistaking one thing for another, and wandering -erroneously from the essentiall subject, seeming neere an end, and then -beginning againe: that a poore Tale could not possibly be more mangled, -or worse tortured in telling, then this was; for the persons therein -concerned, were so abusively nicke-named, their actions and speeches so -monstrously misshapen,** that nothing could appeare to be more ugly. - -Madame _Oretta_, being a Lady of unequalled ingenuitie, admirable in -judgement, and most delicate in her speech, was afflicted in soule, -beyond all measure; overcome with many colde sweates, and passionate -heart-aking qualmes, to see a Foole thus in a Pinne-fold, and unable -to get out, albeit the doore stood wide open to him, whereby shee -became so sicke; that, converting her distaste to a kinde of pleasing -acceptation, merrily thus she spake. Beleeve me Sir, your horse trots -so hard, & travels so uneasily; that I entreate you to let me walke on -foot againe. - -The Knight, being (perchance) a better understander, then a Discourser; -perceived by this witty taunt, that his Bowle had run a contrarie bias, -and he as farre out of Tune, as he was from the Towne. So, lingering -the time, untill her company was neerer arrived: hee lefte her with -them, and rode on as his Wisedome could best direct him. - - - - -Cistio _a Baker, by a wittie answer which he gave unto_ Messer Geri -Spina, _caused him to acknowledge a very indiscreete motion, which he -had made to the said_ Cistio. - -The Second Novell. - -_Approving, that a request ought to be civill, before it should be -granted to any one whatsoever._ - - -The words of Madame _Oretta_, were much commended by the men and -women; and the discourse being ended, the Queene gave command to Madam -_Pampinea_, that shee should follow next in order, which made her to -begin in this manner. - -Worthy Ladies, it exceedeth the power of my capacitie, to censure in -the case whereof I am to speake, by saying, who sinned most, either -Nature, in seating a Noble soule in a vile body, or Fortune, in -bestowing on a body (beautified with a noble soule) a base or wretched -condition of life. As we may observe by _Cistio_, a Citizen of our -owne, and many more beside; for, this _Cistio_ beeing endued with a -singular good spirit, Fortune hath made him no better then a Baker. -And beleeve me Ladies, I could (in this case) lay as much blame on -Nature, as on Fortune; if I did not know Nature to be most absolutely -wise, & that Fortune hath a thousand eyes, albeit fooles have figured -her to bee blinde. But, upon more mature and deliberate consideration, -I finde, that they both (being truly wise and judicious) have dealt -justly, in imitation of our best advised mortals, who being uncertaine -of such inconveniences, as may happen unto them, do bury (for their own -benefit) the very best and choisest things of esteeme, in the most vile -and abject places of their houses, as being subject to least suspition, -and where they may be sure to have them at all times, for supply of any -necessitie whatsoever, because so base a conveyance hath better kept -them, then the very best chamber in the house could have done. Even -so these two great commanders of the world, do many times hide their -most precious Jewels of worth, under the clouds of Arts or professions -of worst estimation, to the end, that fetching them thence when neede -requires, their splendour may appeare to be the more glorious. Nor -was any such matter noted in our homely Baker _Cistio_, by the best -observation of _Messer Geri Spina_, who was spoken of in the late -repeated Novell, as being the husband to Madame _Oretta_; whereby this -accident came to my remembrance, and which (in a short Tale) I will -relate unto you. - -Let me then tell ye, that Pope _Boniface_ (with whom the fore-named -_Messer Geri Spina_ was in great regard) having sent divers Gentlemen -of his Court to _Florence_ as Ambassadors, about very serious and -important businesse: they were lodged in the house of _Messer Geri -Spina_, and he employed (with them) in the saide Popes negotiation. -It chanced, that as being the most convenient way for passage, every -morning they walked on foot by the Church of Saint _Marie d'Ughi_, -where _Cistio_ the Baker dwelt, and exercised the trade belonging to -him. Now although Fortune had humbled him to so meane a condition, -yet shee added a blessing of wealth to that contemptible quality, and -(as smiling on him continually) no disasters at any time befell him, -but still he flourished in riches, lived like a jolly Citizen, with -all things fitting for honest entertainment about him, and plenty of -the best Wines (both White and Claret) as _Florence_, or any part -thereabout yeelded. - -Our frolicke Baker perceiving, that _Messer Geri Spina_ and the other -Ambassadors, used every morning to passe by his doore, and afterward -to returne backe the same way: seeing the season to be somewhat hot & -soultry, he tooke it as an action of kindnesse and courtesie, to make -them an offer of tasting his white wine. But having respect to his own -meane degree, and the condition of _Messer Geri_; hee thought it farre -unfitting for him, to be so forward in such presumption; but rather -entred into consideration of some such meanes, whereby _Messer Geri_ -might bee the inviter of himselfe to taste his Wine. And having put on -him a trusse or thin doublet, of very white and fine Linnen cloath, as -also breeches, and an apron of the same, and a white cap upon his head, -so that he seemed rather to be a Miller, then a Baker: at such times as -_Messer Geri_ and the Ambassadors should daily passe by, hee set before -his doore a new Bucket of faire water, and another small vessell of -_Bologna_ earth (as new and sightly as the other) full of his best and -choisest white Wine, with two small Glasses, looking like silver, they -were so cleare. Downe he sate, with all this provision before him, and -emptying his stomacke twice or thrice, of some clotted flegmes which -seemed to offend it: even as the Gentlemen were passing by, he dranke -one or two rouses of his Wine so heartily, and with such a pleasing -appetite, as might have moved a longing (almost) in a dead man. - -_Messer Geri_ well noting his behaviour, and observing the verie same -course in him two mornings together; on the third day (as he was -drinking) he said unto him. Well done _Cistio_, what, is it good, or -no? _Cistio_ starting up, forthwith replyed: Yes Sir, the wine is good -indeed, but how can I make you to beleeve me, except you taste of it? -_Messer Geri_, eyther in regard of the times quality, or by reason of -his paines taken, perhaps more then ordinary, or else, because hee -saw _Cistio_ had drunke so sprightly, was very desirous to taste of -the Wine, and turning unto the Ambassadors, in merriment he saide. My -Lords, me thinks it were not much amisse, if we tooke a taste of this -honest mans Wine, perhaps it is so good, that we shall not neede to -repent our labour. - -Heereupon, he went with them to _Cistio_, who had caused an handsome -seate to be fetched forth of his house, whereon he requested them to -sit downe, and having commanded his men to wash cleane the Glasses, -he saide. Fellowes, now get you gone, and leave me to the performance -of this service; for I am no worse a skinker, then a Baker, and tarry -you never so long, you shall not drinke a drop. Having thus spoken, -himselfe washed foure or five small glasses, faire and new, and causing -a Viall of his best wine to be brought him: hee diligently filled it -out to _Messer Geri_ and the Ambassadours, to whom it seemed the very -best Wine, that they had drunke of in a long while before. And having -given _Cistio_ most hearty thankes for his kindnesse, and the Wine his -due commendation: many dayes afterwardes (so long as they continued -there) they found the like courteous entertainment, and with the good -liking of honest _Cistio_. - -But when the affayres were fully concluded, for which they were thus -sent to _Florence_, and their parting preparation in due readinesse: -_Messer Geri_ made a very sumptuous Feast for them, inviting thereto -the most part of the honourablest Citizens, and _Cistio_ to be one -amongst them; who (by no meanes) would bee seene in an assembly of such -State and pompe, albeit he was thereto (by the saide _Messer Geri_) -most earnestly entreated. - -In regard of which deniall, _Messer Geri_ commaunded one of his -servants, to take a small Bottle, and request _Cistio_ to fill it with -his good Wine; then afterward, to serve it in such sparing manner to -the Table, that each Gentleman might be allowed halfe a glasse-full -at their down-sitting. The Serving-man, who had heard great report -of the Wine, and was halfe offended, because he could never taste -thereof: tooke a great Flaggon Bottle, containing foure or five -Gallons at the least, and comming there-with unto _Cistio_, saide -unto him. _Cistio_, because my Master cannot have your companie among -his friends, he prayes you to fill this Bottle with your best Wine. -_Cistio_ looking uppon the huge Flaggon, replied thus. Honest Fellow, -_Messer Geri_ never sent thee with such a Message to me: which although -the Servingman very stoutly maintained, yet getting no other answer, he -returned backe therewith to his Master. - -_Messer Geri_ returned the Servant backe againe unto _Cistio_, saying: -Goe, and assure _Cistio_, that I sent thee to him, and if hee make -thee any more such answeres, then demaund of him, to what place else I -should send thee? Being come againe to _Cistio_, hee avouched that his -Maister had sent him, but _Cistio_ affirming, that hee did not: the -Servant asked, to what place else hee should send him? Marrie (quoth -_Cistio_) unto the River of _Arno_, which runneth by _Florence_, there -thou mayest be sure to fill thy Flaggon. When the Servant had reported -this answer to _Messer Geri_, the eyes of his understanding beganne -to open, and calling to see what Bottle hee had carried with him: -no sooner looked he on the huge Flaggon, but severely reproving the -sawcinesse of his Servant, hee sayde. Now trust mee, _Cistio_ told thee -nothing but trueth, for neither did I send thee with any such dishonest -message, nor had the reason to yeeld or grant it. - -Then he sent him with a bottle of more reasonable competencie, which so -soone as _Cistio_ saw: Yea mary my friend, quoth he, now I am sure that -thy Master sent thee to me, and he shall have his desire with all my -hart. So, commaunding the Bottle to be filled, he sent it away by the -Servant, and presently following after him, when he came unto _Messer -Geri_, he spake unto him after this manner. Sir, I would not have you to -imagine, that the huge flaggon (which first came) did any jotte dismay -mee; but rather I conceyved, that the small Viall whereof you tasted -every morning, yet filled many mannerly Glasses together, was fallen -quite out of your remembrance; in plainer tearmes, it beeing no Wine -for Groomes or Peazants, as your selfe affirmed yesterday. And because -I meane to bee a Skinker no longer, by keeping Wine to please any other -pallate but mine owne: I have sent you halfe my store, and heereafter -thinke of mee as you shall please. _Messer Geri_ tooke both his guifte -and speeches in most thankefull manner, accepting him alwayes after, -as his intimate Friend, because he had so graced him before the -Ambassadours. - - - - -Madame Nonna de Pulci, _by a sodaine answere, did put to silence a -Byshop of_ Florence, _and the Lord Marshall: having moved a question to -the said Lady, which seemed to come short of honesty._ - -The Third Novell. - -_Wherein is declared, that mockers do sometimes meete with their -matches in mockery, and to their owne shame._ - - -When Madame _Pampinea_ had ended her Discourse, and (by the whole -company) the answere and bounty of _Cistio_, had past with deserved -commendation: it pleased the Queene, that Madame _Lauretta_ should next -succeed: whereupon verie chearefully thus she beganne. - -Faire assembly, Madame _Pampinea_ (not long time since) gave beginning, -and Madam _Philomena_ hath also seconded the same argument, concerning -the slender vertue remaining in our sexe, and likewise the beautie of -wittie words, delivered on apt occasion, and in convenient meetings. -Now, because it is needlesse to proceede any further, then what hath -beene already spoken: let mee onely tell you (over and beside) and -commit it to memorie, that the nature of meetings and speeches are -such, as they ought to nippe or touch the hearer, like unto the Sheepes -nibling on the tender grasse, and not as the sullen Dogge byteth. For, -if their biting be answereable to the Dogges, they deserve not to be -termed witty jests or quips, but foule and offensive language: as -plainly appeareth by the words of Madame _Oretta_, and the merry, yet -sensible answer of _Cistio_. - -True it is, that if it be spoken by way of answer, and the answerer -biteth doggedly, because himselfe was bitten in the same manner before: -he is the lesse to bee blamed, because hee maketh payment but with -coine of the same stampe. In which respect, an especiall care is to bee -had, how, when, with whom, and where we jest or gibe, whereof very many -proove too unmindfull, as appeared (not long since) by a Prelate of -ours, who met with a byting, no lesse sharpe and bitter, then had first -come from himselfe before, as verie briefely I intend to tell you how. - -_Messer Antonio d'Orso_, being Byshoppe of _Florence_, a vertuous, -wise, and reverend Prelate; it fortuned that a Gentleman of -_Catalogna_, named _Messer Diego de la Ratta_, and Lord Marshall to -King _Robert_ of _Naples_, came thither to visite him. Hee being a man -of very comely personage, and a great observer of the choysest beauties -in Court: among all the other _Florentine_ Dames, one proved to bee -most pleasing in his eye, who was a verie faire Woman indeede, and -Neece to the Brother of the saide _Messer Antonio_. - -The Husband of this Gentlewoman (albeit descended of a worthie Family) -was, neverthelesse, immeasurably covetous, and a verie vile harsh -natured man. Which the Lord Marshall understanding, made such a madde -composition with him, as to give him five hundred Ducates of Gold, on -condition, that hee would let him lye one night with his wife, not -thinking him so base minded as to give consent. Which in a greedy -avaritious humour he did, and the bargaine being absolutely agreed -on; the Lord Marshall prepared to fit him with a payment, such as it -should be. He caused so many peeces of silver to be cunningly guilded, -as then went for currant mony in _Florence_, and called _Popolines_, & -after he had lyen with the Lady (contrary to her will and knowledge, -her husband had so closely carried the businesse) the money was duely -paid to the cornuted Coxcombe. Afterwards, this impudent shame chanced -to be generally knowne, nothing remaining to the wilfull Wittoll, but -losse of his expected gaine, and scorne in every place where he went. -The Bishop likewise (beeing a discreete and sober man) would seeme to -take no knowledge thereof; but bare out all scoffes with a well setled -countenance. - -Within a short while after, the Bishop and the Lord Marshall (alwaies -conversing together) it came to passe, that upon Saint _Johns_ day, -they riding thorow the City, side by side, and viewing the brave -beauties, which of them might best deserve to win the prize; the Byshop -espied a yong married Lady (which our late greevous pestilence bereaved -us of) she being named Madame _Nonna de Pulci_, and Cousine to _Messer -Alexio Rinucci_, a Gentleman well knowne unto us all. A very goodly -beautifull yong woman she was, of delicate language, and singular -spirite, dwelling close by S. _Peters_ gate. This Lady did the Bishop -shew to the Marshall, and when they were come to her, laying his hand -uppon her shoulder, he said. Madam _Nonna_, What thinke you of this -Gallant? Dare you adventure another wager with him? - -Such was the apprehension of this witty Lady, that these words seemed -to taxe her honour, or else to contaminate the hearers understanding, -whereof there were great plenty about her, whose judgement might be as -vile, as the speeches were scandalous. Wherefore, never seeking for any -further purgation of her cleare conscience, but onely to retort taunt -for taunt, presently thus she replied. My Lord, if I should make such a -vile adventure, I would looke to bee payde with better money. - -These words being heard both by the Bishop and Marshall, they felt -themselves touched to the quicke, the one, as the Factor or Broker, for -so dishonest a businesse, to the Brother of the Bishop; and the other, -as receiving (in his owne person) the shame belonging to his Brother. -So, not so much as looking each on other, or speaking one word together -all the rest of that day, they rode away with blushing cheekes. Whereby -we may collect, that the yong Lady, being so injuriously provoked, did -no more then well became her, to bite their basenesse neerely, that so -abused her openly. - - - - -Chichibio, _the Cooke to_ Messer Currado Gianfiliazzi, _by a sodaine -pleasant answer which he made to his Master; converted his anger into -laughter, and thereby escaped the punishment, that_ Messer _meant to -impose on him._ - -The Fourth Novell. - -_Whereby plainly appeareth, that a sodaine witty and merry answer, doth -oftentimes appease the furious choller of an angry man._ - - -Madam _Lauretta_ sitting silent, and the answer of Lady _Nonna_ having -past with generall applause: the Queene commanded Madame _Neiphila_ -to follow next in order; who instantly thus began. Although a ready -wit (faire Ladies) doth many times affoord worthy and commendable -speeches, according to the accidents happening to the speaker: yet -notwithstanding, Fortune (being a ready helper divers wayes to the -timorous) doth often tippe the tongue with such a present reply, as the -partie to speake, had not so much leysure as to thinke on, nor yet to -invent; as I purpose to let you perceive, by a prety short Novell. - -_Messer Currado Gianfiliazzi_ (as most of you have both seene and -knowen) living alwayes in our Citie, in the estate of a Noble Citizen, -beeing a man bountifull, magnificent, and within the degree of -Knighthoode: continually kept both Hawkes and Hounds, taking no meane -delight in such pleasures as they yeelded, neglecting (for them) farre -more serious imployments, wherewith our present subject presumeth not -to meddle. Upon a day, having kilde with his Faulcon a Crane, neere to -a Village called _Peretola_, and finding her to be both young and fat, -he sent it to his Cooke, a _Venetian_ borne, and named _Chichibio_, -with command to have it prepared for his supper. _Chichibio_, who -resembled no other, then (as he was indeede) a plaine, simple, honest -merry fellow, having drest the Crane as it ought to bee, put it on the -spit, and laide it to the fire. - -When it was well neere fully roasted, and gave forth a very delicate -pleasing savour; it fortuned that a young Woman dwelling not far off, -named _Brunetta_, and of whom _Chichibio_ was somewhat enamored, -entred into the Kitchin, and feeling the excellent smell of the Crane, -to please her beyond all savours, that ever she had felt before: she -entreated _Chichibio_ verie earnestly, that hee would bestow a legge -thereof on her. Whereto _Chichibio_ (like a pleasant companion, and -evermore delighting in singing) sung her this answer. - - _My_ Brunetta, _faire and feat a, - Why should you say so? - The meate of my Master, - Allowes you for no Taster, - Go from the Kitchin go._ - -Many other speeches past betweene them in a short while, but in the -end, _Chichibio_, because hee would not have his Mistresse _Brunetta_ -angrie with him; cut away one of the Cranes legges from the spit, and -gave it to her to eate. Afterward, when the Fowle was served up to -the Table before _Messer Currado_, who had invited certain strangers -his friends to sup with him, wondering not a little, he called for -_Chichibio_ his Cook; demanding what was become of the Cranes other -legge? Whereto the _Venetian_ (being a lyar by Nature) sodainely -answered: Sir, Cranes have no more but one legge each Bird. _Messer -Currado_, growing verie angry, replyed. Wilt thou tell me, that a -Crane hath no more but one legge? Did I never see a Crane before this? -_Chichibio_ persisting resolutely in his deniall, saide. Beleeve me -Sir, I have told you nothing but the truth, and when you please, I will -make good my wordes, by such Fowles as are living. - -Messer _Currado_, in kinde love to the strangers that hee had invited -to supper, gave over any further contestation; onely he said. Seeing -thou assurest me, to let me see thy affirmation for truth, by other -of the same Fowles living (a thing which as yet I never saw, or heard -of) I am content to make proofe thereof to morrow morning, till then -I shall rest satisfied: but, upon my word, if I finde it otherwise, -expect such a sound payment, as thy knavery justly deserveth, to make -thee remember it all thy life time. The contention ceassing for the -night season, Messer _Currado_, who though he had slept well, remained -still discontented in his minde: arose in the morning by breake of -day, and puffing & blowing angerly, called for his horses, commanding -_Chichibio_ to mount on one of them; so riding on towards the River, -where (earely every morning) he had seene plenty of Cranes, he sayde to -his man; We shall see anon Sirra, whether thou or I lyed yesternight. - -_Chichibio_ perceiving, that his Masters anger was not (as yet) -asswaged, and now it stood him upon, to make good his lye; not knowing -how he should do it, rode after his Master, fearfully trembling all -the way. Gladly he would have made an escape, but hee could not by any -possible meanes, and on every side he looked about him, now before, -and after behinde, to espy any Cranes standing on both their legges, -which would have bin an ominous sight to him. But being come neere to -the River, he chanced to see (before any of the rest) upon the banke -thereof, about a dozen Cranes in number, each of them standing but upon -one legge, as they use to do when they are sleeping. Whereupon, shewing -them quickly to Messer _Currado_, he said. Now Sir your selfe may see, -whether I told you true yesternight, or no: I am sure a Crane hath but -one thigh, and one leg, as all here present are apparant witnesses, and -I have bin as good as my promise. - -Messer _Currado_ looking on the Cranes, and well understanding the -knavery of his man, replyed: Stay but a little while sirra, & I will -shew thee, that a Crane hath two thighes, and two legges. Then riding -somwhat neerer to them, he cryed out aloud, Shough, shough, which -caused them to set downe their other legs, and all fled away, after -they had made a few paces against the winde for their mounting. So -going unto _Chichibio_, he said: How now you lying Knave, hath a Crane -two legs, or no? _Chichibio_ being well-neere at his wits end, not -knowing now what answer hee should make; but even as it came sodainly -into his minde, said: Sir, I perceive you are in the right, and if you -would have done as much yesternight, and had cryed Shough, as here you -did: questionlesse, the Crane would then have set down the other legge, -as these heere did: but if (as they) she had fled away too, by that -meanes you might have lost your Supper. - -This sodaine and unexpected witty answere, comming from such a -logger-headed Lout, and so seasonably for his owne safety: was so -pleasing to _Messer Currado_, that he fell into a hearty laughter, and -forgetting all anger, saide. _Chichibio_, thou hast quit thy selfe -well, and to my contentment: albeit I advise thee, to teach mee no -more such trickes heereafter. Thus _Chichibio_, by his sodaine and -merry answer, escaped a sound beating, which (otherwise) his master had -inflicted on him. - - - - -Messer Forese da Rabatte, _and Maister_ Giotto, _a Painter by his -profession, comming together from_ Mugello, _scornfully reprehended one -another for their deformity of body._ - -The Fift Novell. - -_Whereby may bee observed, that such as will speake contemptibly of -others, ought (first of all) to looke respectively on their owne -imperfections._ - - -So soone as Madame _Neiphila_ sate silent (the Ladies having greatly -commended the pleasant answer of _Chichibio_) _Pamphilus_, by command -from the Queene, spake in this manner. Woorthy Ladies, it commeth to -passe oftentimes, that like as Fortune is observed divers wayes, to -hide under vile and contemptible Arts, the most great and unvalewable -treasures of vertue (as, not long since, was well discoursed unto us -by Madam _Pampinea_:) so in like manner hath appeared; that Nature -hath infused very singular spirits into most misshapen and deformed -bodies of men. As hath beene noted in two of our owne Citizens, of -whom I purpose to speake in fewe words. The one of them was named -_Messer Forese de Rabatte_, a man of little and low person, but yet -deformed in body, with a flat face, like a Terrier or Beagle, as if no -comparison (almost) could bee made more ugly. But notwithstanding all -this deformity, he was so singularly experienced in the Lawes, that all -men held him beyond any equall, or rather reputed him as a Treasury of -civill knowledge. - -The other man, being named _Giotto_, had a spirit of so great -excellency, as there was not any particular thing in Nature, the -Mother and Worke-mistresse of all, by continuall motion of the -heavens; but hee by his pen and pensell could perfectly portrait; -shaping them all so truly alike and resemblable, that they were taken -for the reall matters indeede; and, whether they were present or no, -there was hardly any possibility of their distinguishing. So that -many times it happened, that by the variable devises he made, the -visible sence of men became deceived, in crediting those things to be -naturall, which were but meerly painted. By which meanes, hee reduced -that singular Art to light, which long time before had lyen buried, -under the grosse error of some; who, in the mysterie of painting, -delighted more to content the ignorant, then to please the judicious -understanding of the wise, he justly deserving thereby, to be tearmed -one of the _Florentines_ most glorious lights. And so much the rather, -because he performed all his actions, in the true and lowly spirit of -humility: for while he lived, and was a Master in his Art, above all -other Painters: yet he refused any such title, which shined the more -majestically in him, as appeared by such, who knew much lesse then he, -or his Schollers either: yet his knowledge was extreamly coveted among -them. - -Now, notwithstanding all this admirable excellency in him: he was not -(thereby) a jot the handsommer man (either in person or countenance) -then was our fore-named Lawyer _Messer Forese_, and therefore my -Novell concerneth them both. Understand then, (faire Assemblie) that -the possessions and inheritances of _Messer Forese_ and _Giotto_, lay -in _Mugello_; wherefore, when Holy-dayes were celebrated by Order -of Court, and in the Sommer time, upon the admittance of so apt a -vacation; _Forese_ rode thither upon a very unsightly Jade, such as a -man can can seldome meet with worse. The like did _Giotto_ the Painter, -as ill fitted every way as the other; and having dispatched their -busines there, they both returned backe towards _Florence_, neither of -them being able to boast, which was the best mounted. - -Riding on a faire and softly pace, because their Horses could goe -no faster: and they being well entred into yeeres, it fortuned (as -oftentimes the like befalleth in Sommer) that a sodaine showre of raine -over-tooke them; for avoyding whereof, they made all possible haste -to a poore Countrey-mans Cottage, familiarly knowne to them both. -Having continued there an indifferent while, and the raine unlikely to -cease: to prevent all further protraction of time, and to arrive at -_Florence_ in due season: they borrowed two old cloakes of the poore -man, of over-worn and ragged Country gray, as also two hoodes of the -like Complexion, (because the poore man had no better) which did more -mishape them, then their owne ugly deformity, and made them notoriously -flouted and scorned, by all that met or overtooke them. - -After they had ridden some distance of ground, much moyled and bemyred -with their shuffling Jades, flinging the dirt every way about them, -that well they might be termed two filthy companions: the raine gave -over, and the evening looking somwhat cleare, they began to confer -familiarly together. _Messer Forese_, riding a lofty _French_ trot, -everie step being ready to hoise him out of his saddle, hearing -_Giottos_ discreete answers to every ydle question he made (for indeede -he was a very elegant speaker) began to peruse and surveigh him, even -from the foote to the head, as we use to say. And perceiving him to -be so greatly deformed, as no man could be worse, in his opinion: -without any consideration of his owne misshaping as bad, or rather more -unsightly then hee; in a scoffing laughing humour, hee saide. _Giotto_, -doest thou imagine, that a stranger, who had never seene thee before, -and should now happen into our companie, would beleeve thee to bee the -best Painter in the world, as indeede thou art? Presently _Giotto_ -(without any further meditation) returned him this answere. Signior -_Forese_, I think he might then beleeve it, when (beholding you) hee -could imagine that you had learned your A. B. C. Which when _Forese_ -heard, he knew his owne error, and saw his payment returned in such -Coine, as he sold his Wares for. - - - - -_A yong and ingenious Scholler, being unkindly reviled and smitten -by his ignorant Father, and through the procurement of an unlearned -Vicare: afterward attained to be doubly revenged on him._ - -The Sixth Novell. - -_Serving as an advertisement to unlearned Parents, not to bee -over-rash, in censuring on Schollers perfections, through any badde or -unbeseeming perswasions._ - - -The Ladies smiled very heartily, at the ready answer of _Giotto_; -untill the Queene charged Madam _Fiammetta_, that shee should next -succeed in order: whereupon, thus she began. The verie greatest -infelicity that can happen to a man, and most insupportable of all -other, is Ignorance; a word (I say) which hath bin so generall, as under -it is comprehended all imperfections whatsoever. Yet notwithstanding, -whosoever can cull (graine by graine) the defects incident to humane -race; will and must confesse, that wee are not all borne to knowledge: -but onely such, whom the heavens illuminating by their bright radiance -(wherein consisteth the sourse and well-spring of all science) by -little & little, do bestow the influence of their bounty, on such -and so manie as they please, who are to expresse themselves the more -thankfull for such a blessing. And although this grace doth lessen -the misfortune of many, which were over-mighty to bee in all; yet -some there are, who by sawcie presuming on themselves, doe bewray -their ignorance by theyr owne speeches; setting such behaviour on each -matter, and soothing every thing with such gravity, even as if they -would make comparison: or (to speake more properly) durst encounter in -the Listes with great _Salomon_ or _Socrates_. But let us leave them, -and come to the matter of our purposed Novell. - -In a certaine Village of _Piccardie_, there lived a Priest or Vicar, -who beeing meerely an ignorant blocke, had yet such a peremptorie -presuming spirite: as, though it was sufficiently discerned, yet hee -beguiled many thereby, untill at last he deceyved himselfe, and with -due chastisement to his folly. - -A plaine Husbandman dwelling in the same Village, possessed of much -Land and Living, but verie grosse and dull in understanding; by the -entreaty of divers his Friends and Well-willers, some-thing more -intelligable then himselfe: became incited, or rather provoked, to send -a Sonne of his to the University of _Paris_, to study there as was -fitting for a Scholler. To the end (quoth they) that having but this -Son onely, and Fortunes blessings abounding in store for him: hee might -like wise have the riches of the minde, which are those true treasures -indeede, that _Aristippus_ giveth us advice to be furnished withall. - -His Friends perswasions having prevailed, and hee continued at _Paris_ -for the space of three yeares: what with the documents he had attayned -to, before his going thither, and by meanes of a happie memory in the -time of his being there, wherewith no young man was more singularly -endued (in so short a while) he attained and performed the greater part -of his Studies. - -Now, as oftentimes it commeth to passe, the love of a Father -(surmounting all other affections in man) made the olde Farmer desirous -to see his Sonne: which caused his sending for him with all convenient -speede, and obedience urged his as forward willingnesse thereto. The -good olde man, not a little joyfull to see him in so good condition -and health, and encreased so much in stature since his parting thence: -familiarly told him, that he earnestly desired to know, if his minde -and body had attained to a competent and equall growth, which within -three or foure dayes he would put in practise. - -No other helpe had he silly simple man, but Master Vicar must bee -the questioner and poser of his son: wherein the Priest was very -unwilling to meddle, for feare of discovering his owne ignorance, which -passed under better opinion then he deserved. But the Farmer beeing -importunate, and the Vicar many wayes beholding to him, durst not -returne deniall, but undertooke it very formally, as if he had bene an -able man indeede. - -But see how Fooles are borne to be fortunate, and where they least -hope, there they find the best successe; the simplicitie of the Father, -must be the meanes for abusing his Schollerly Son, and a skreene to -stand betweene the Priest and his ignorance. Earnest is the olde man to -know, what and how farre his Sonne had profited at Schoole, and by what -note he might best take understanding of his answeres: which jumping -fit with the Vicars vanity, and a warrantable cloake to cover his -knavery; he appoints him but one word onely, namely _Nescio_, wherewith -if he answered to any of his demands, it was an evident token, that -hee understood nothing. As thus they were walking and conferring in -the Church, the Farmer very carefull to remember the word _Nescio_: it -came to passe upon a sodaine, that the young man entred into them, to -the great contentment of his Father, who prayed Master Vicar, to make -approbation of his Sonne, whether he were learned, or no, and how hee -had benefited at the University? - -After the time of the daies salutations had past betweene them, the -Vicar being subtle and crafty, as they walked along by one of the -tombs in the Church; pointing with his finger to the Tombe, the Priest -uttered these words to the Scholler. - - _Quis hic est sepultus?_ - -The yong Scholler (by reason it was erected since his departure, and -finding no inscription whereby to informe him) answered, as well hee -might, _Nescio_. Immediately the Father, keeping the word perfectly in -his memorie, grewe verie angerly passionate; and, desiring to heare no -more demaunds: gave him three or foure boxes on the eares; with many -harsh and injurious speeches, tearming him an Asse and Villaine, and -that he had not learned any thing. His Sonne was pacient, and returned -no answer, but plainly perceived, that this was a tricke intended -against him, by the malicious treachery of the Priest, on whom (in -time) he might be revenged. - -Within a short while after, the Suffragane of those parts (under whom -the Priest was but a Deputy, holding the benefice of him, with no great -charge to his conscience) being abroad in his visitation, sent word to -the Vicar, that he intended to preach there on the next Sunday, and hee -to prepare in a readinesse, _Bonum & Commodum_, because hee would have -nothing else to his dinner. Heereat Master Vicar was greatly amazed, -because he had never heard such words before, neither could hee finde -them in all his _Breviarie_. Hereupon, he went to the yong scholler, -whom he had so lately before abused, and crying him mercy, with many -impudent and shallow excuses, desired him to reveale the meaning of -those words, and what he should understand by _Bonum & Commodum_. - -The Scholler (with a sober and modest countenance) made answere; That -he had bin over-much abused, which (neverthelesse) he tooke not so -impaciently, but hee had already both forgot and forgiven it, with -promise of comfort in this his extraordinary distraction, and greefe of -minde. When he had perused the Suffraganes Letter, well observing the -blushlesse ignorance of the Priest: seeming (by outward appearance) to -take it strangely, he cryed out alowd, saying; In the name of Vertue, -what may be this mans meaning? How? (quoth the Priest) What manner -of demand do you make? Alas, replyed the Scholler, you have but one -poore Asse, which I know you love deerely, and yet you must stew his -genitories very daintily, for your Patron will have no other meat to -his dinner. The genitories of mine Asse, answered the Priest? Passion -of me, who then shall carrie my Corne to the Mill? There is no remedie, -sayde the Scholler, for he hath so set it downe for an absolute -resolution. - -After that the Priest had considered thereon a while by himselfe, -remembring the yearely revennewes, which clearely hee put up into -his purse, to be ten times of farre greater worth then his Asse: he -concluded to have him gelded, what danger soever should ensue thereon, -preparing them in readinesse against his comming. So soone as the -Suffragan was there arrived, heavily hee complained to him for his -Asse: which kinde of Language he not understanding, knew not what -he meant, nor how he should answer. But beeing (by the Scholler) -acquainted with the whole History, he laughed heartily at the Priests -ignorant folly, wishing that all such bold Bayards (from time to time) -might be so served. Likewise, that all ignorant Priests, Vicars, and -other Grashoppers of Townes or Villages, who sometimes have onely seene -_Partes orationis quod sunt_, not to stand over-much on their owne -sufficiency, grounded soly upon their Grammar; but to beware whom they -jest withall, without medling with Schollers, who take not injuries as -dullards doe, least they prove infamous by their disputations. - - - - -Madam Phillippa, _being accused by her Husband_ Rinaldo de Pugliese, -_because he tooke her in Adulterie, with a yong Gentleman named_ -Lazarino de Guazzagliotori: _caused her to bee cited before the Judge. -From whom she delivered her selfe, by a sodaine, witty and pleasant -answer, and moderated a severe strict Statute, formerly made against -women._ - -The Seventh Novell. - -_Wherein is declared, of what worth it is to confesse a trueth, with a -facetious and witty excuse._ - - -After that Madame _Fiammetta_ had given over speaking, and all the -Auditory had sufficiently applauded the Schollers honest revenge, the -Queene enjoyned _Philostratus_, to proceede on next with his Novell, -which caused him to begin thus. Beleeve me Ladies, it is an excellent -& most commendable thing, to speak well, and to all purposes: but I -hold it a matter of much greater worth, to know how to do it, and -when necessity doth most require it. Which a Gentlewoman (of whom I -am now to speake) was so well enstructed in, as not onely it yeelded -the hearers mirthfull contentment, but likewise delivered her from the -danger of death, as (in few words) you shall heare related. - -In the Citie of _Prato_, there was an Edict or Statute, no lesse -blameworthy (to speake uprightly) then most severe and cruell, which -(without making any distinction) gave strict command; That everie Woman -should be burned with fire, whose husband found her in the acte of -Adultery, with any secret or familiar friend, as one deserving to bee -thus abandoned, like such as prostituted their bodies to publike sale -or hire. During the continuance of this sharpe Edict, it fortuned that -a Gentlewoman, who was named _Phillippa_, was found in her Chamber -one night, in the armes of a yong Gentleman of the same City, named -_Lazarino de Guazzagliotori_, and by her owne husband, called _Rinaldo -de Pugliese_, shee loving the young Gallant, as her owne life, because -hee was most compleate in all perfections, and every way as deerely -addicted to her. - -This sight was so irkesome to _Rinaldo_, that, being overcom with -extreame rage, hee could hardly containe from running on them, with a -violent intent to kill them both: but feare of his owne life caused his -forbearance, meaning to be revenged by some better way. Such was the -heate of his spleene and fury, as, setting aside all respect of his -owne shame: he would needs prosecute the rigour of the deadly Edict, -which he held lawfull for him to do, although it extended to the death -of his Wife. Heereupon, having witnesses sufficient, to approove the -guiltinesse of her offence: a day being appointed (without desiring any -other counsell) he went in person to accuse her, and required justice -against her. - -The Gentlewoman, who was of an high and undauntable spirite, as all -such are, who have fixed their affection resolvedly, and love uppon -a grounded deliberation: concluded, quite against the counsell and -opinion of her Parents, Kindred, and Friends; to appeare in the Court, -as desiring rather to dye, by confessing the trueth with a manly -courage, then by denying it, and her love unto so worthy a person -as he was, in whole arms she chanced to be taken; to live basely in -exile with shame, as an eternall scandall to her race. So, before the -Potestate, shee made her apparance, worthily accompanied both with men -and women, all advising her to deny the acte: but she, not minding them -or their perswasions, looking on the Judge with a constant countenance, -and a voyce of setled resolve, craved to know of him, what hee -demaunded of her? - -The Potestate well noting her brave carriage, her singular beautie and -praise-worthy parts, her words apparantly witnessing the heighth of -her minde: beganne to take compassion on her, and doubted, least shee -would confesse some such matter, as should enforce him to pronounce the -sentence of death against her. But she boldly scorning all delayes, -or any further protraction of time; demanded again, what was her -accusation? Madame, answered the Potestate, I am sorry to tel you, -what needs I must, your husband (whom you see present heere) is the -complainant against you, avouching, that he tooke you in the act of -adultery with another man: and therefore he requireth, that, according -to the rigour of the Statute heere in force with us, I should pronounce -sentence against you, and (consequently) the infliction of death. -Which I cannot do, if you confesse not the fact, and therefore be well -advised, how you answer me, and tell me the truth, if it be as your -Husband accuseth you, or no. - -The Lady, without any dismay or dread at all, pleasantly thus replied. -My Lord, true it is, that _Rinaldo_ is my Husband, and that he found -me, on the night named, betweene the Armes of _Lazarino_, where many -times heeretofore he hath embraced mee, according to the mutuall love -re-plighted together, which I deny not, nor ever will. But you know -well enough, and I am certaine of it, that the Lawes enacted in any -Countrey, ought to be common, and made with consent of them whom they -concerne, which in this Edict of yours is quite contrarie. For it is -rigorous against none, but poore women onely, who are able to yeeld -much better content and satisfaction generally, then remaineth in the -power of men to do. And moreover, when this Law was made, there was not -any woman that gave consent to it, neither were they called to like or -allow thereof: in which respect, it may deservedly be termed, an unjust -Law. And if you will, in prejudice of my bodie, and of your owne soule, -be the executioner of so unlawfull an Edict, it consisteth in your -power to do as you please. - -But before you proceede to pronounce any sentence, may it please you -to favour me with one small request, namely, that you would demand of -my Husband, if at all times, and whensoever he tooke delight in my -company, I ever made any curiosity, or came to him unwillingly. Whereto -_Rinaldo_, without tarrying for the Potestate to moove the question, -sodainly answered; that (undoubtedly) his wife at all times, and oftner -then he could request it, was never sparing of her kindnesse, or put -him off with any deniall. Then the Lady, continuing on her former -speeches, thus replyed. Let me then demand of you my Lord, being our -Potestate and Judge, if it be so, by my Husbands owne free confession, -that he hath alwaies had his pleasure of me, without the least refusall -in me, or contradiction; what should I doe with the over-plus remaining -in mine owne power, and whereof he had no need? Would you have mee cast -it away to the Dogges? Was it not more fitting for me, to pleasure -therewith a worthy Gentleman, who was even at deaths doore for my love, -then (my husbands surfetting, and having no neede of me) to let him lye -languishing, and dye? - -Never was heard such an examination before, and to come from a woman of -such worth, the most part of the honourable _Pratosians_ (both Lords -and Ladies) being there present, who hearing her urge such a necessary -question, cryed out all aloud together with one voice (after they had -laughed their fill) that the Lady had saide well, and no more then she -might. So that, before they departed thence, by comfortable advice -proceeding from the Potestate: the Edict (being reputed overcruell) was -modified, and interpreted to concerne them onely, who offered injurie -to their Husbands for money. By which meanes, _Rinaldo_ standing as one -confounded, for such a foolish and unadvised enterprize, departed from -the Auditorie: and the Ladie, not a little joyfull to bee thus freed -and delivered from the fire, returned home with victorie to her owne -house. - - - - -Fresco da Celatico, _counselled and advised his Neece_ Cesca: _That if -such as deserved to be looked on, were offensive to her eyes, as she -had often told him; she should forbeare to looke on any._ - -The Eighth Novell. - -_In just scorne of such unsightly and ill-pleasing surly Sluts, who -imagine none to be faire or well-favoured, but themselves._ - - -All the while as _Philostratus_ was re-counting his Novell; it seemed, -that the Ladies (who heard it) found themselves much mooved thereat, as -by the wanton blood monting up into their cheekes, it plainly appeared. -But in the end, looking on each other with strange behaviour, they -could not forbeare smiling: which the Queene interrupting by a command -of attention, turning to Madame _Æmillia_, willed her to follow next. -When she, puffing and blowing, as if she had bene newly awaked from -sleepe, began in this manner. - -Faire Beauties; My thoughts having wandred a great distance hence, and -further then I can easily collect them together againe; in obedience -yet to our Queene, I shall report a much shorter Novell, then otherwise -(perhappes) I should have done, if my minde had beene a little neerer -home. I shall tell you the grosse fault of a foolish Damosell, well -corrected by a witty reprehension of her Uncle; if shee had bin endued -but with so much sence, as to have understood it. - -An honest man, named _Fresco da Celatico_, had a good fulsom wench to -his Neece, who for her folly and squemishnes, was generally called -_Cesca_, or nice _Francesca_. And althogh she had stature sufficient, -yet none of the handsomest, & a good hard favourd countenance, nothing -nere such Angelical beauties as we have seen: yet she was endued with -such height of minde, and so proud an opinion of her selfe, that it -appeared as a custome bred in hir, or rather a gift bestowed on hir -by nature (though none of the best) to blame and despise both men and -women, yea whosoever she lookt on; without any consideration of her -self, she being as unsightly, ill shaped, and ugly faced, as a worse -was very hardly to be found. - -Nothing could be done at any time, to yeilde her liking or content: -moreover, she was so waspish, nice, & squemish, that when she cam into -the royall Court of _France_, it was hatefull & contemptible to hir. -Whensoever she went through the streets, every thing stunke and was -noisome to her; so that she never did any thing but stop her nose; as -if all men or women she met withall; and whatsoever else she lookt on, -were stinking and offensive. But let us leave all further relation -of her ill conditions, being every way (indeed) so bad, and hardly -becomming any sensible body, that we cannot condemne them so much as we -should. - -It chanced upon a day, that shee comming home to the house where her -Uncle dwelt, declared her wonted scurvy and scornfull behaviour; -swelling, puffing, and pouting extreamly, in which humour she sat downe -by her Uncle, who desiring to know what had displeased her, said. Why -how now _Francesca_? what may the meaning of this bee? This being a -solemne festivall day, what is the reason of your so soone returning -home? She coily biting the lip, and brideling her head, as if she had -bene some mans best Gelding, sprucely thus replyed. - -Indeede you say true Uncle, I am come home verie earely, because, since -the day of my birth, I never saw a City so pestered with unhandsome -people, both men and women, and worse this high Holyday then ever I -did observe before. I walked thorow some store of streetes, and I -could not see one proper man: and as for the women, they are the most -misshapen and ugly creatures, that, if God had made me such an one, -I should be sorry that ever I was borne. And being no longer able to -endure such unpleasing sights; you will not thinke (Uncle) in what an -anger I am come home. _Fresco_, to whome these stinking qualities of -his Neece seemed so unsufferable, that hee could not (with patience) -endure them any longer, thus short and quickely answered. _Francesca_, -if all people of our Citie (both men and women) be so odious in thy -eyes, and offensive to thy nose, as thou hast often reported to me: bee -advised then by my counsell. Stay still at home, and look upon none but -thy selfe onely, and then thou shalt be sure that they cannot displease -thee. But she, being as empty of wit as a pith-lesse Cane, and yet -thought her judgement to exceed _Salomons_, could not understand the -lest part of hir Uncles meaning, but stood as senselesse as a sheepe. -Onely she replyed, that she would resort to some other parts of the -country, which if shee found as weakly furnished of handsome people, as -heere shee did, shee would conceive better of her selfe, then ever she -had done before. - - - - -Signior Guido Cavalcante, _with a sodaine and witty answer, reprehended -the rash folly of certaine Florentine Gentlemen, that thought to scorne -and flout him._ - -The Ninth Novell. - -_Notably discovering the great difference that is betweene learning and -ignorance, upon judicious apprehension._ - - -When the Queene perceived, that Madame _Æmillia_ was discharged of her -Novell, and none remained now to speake next, but onely her selfe, his -priviledge alwayes remembred, to whom it belonged to be the last, she -began in this manner. - -Faire Company, you have this day disappointed me of two Novells at the -least, whereof I had intended to make use. Neverthelesse, you shall -not imagine mee so unfurnished, but that I have left one in store; -the conclusion whereof, may minister such instruction, as will not -bee reputed for ydle and impertinent: but rather of such materiall -consequence, as better hath not this day past among us. - -Understand then (most faire Ladies) that in former times long since -past, our Cittie had many excellent and commendable customes in it; -whereof (in these unhappy dayes of ours) we cannot say that poore -one remaineth, such hath beene the too much encrease of Wealth and -Covetousnesse, the onely supplanters of all good qualities whatsoever. -Among which lawdable and friendly observations, there was one well -deserving note, namely, that in divers places of _Florence_, men of the -best houses in every quarter, had a sociable and neighbourly assemblie -together, creating their company to consist of a certaine number, such -as were able to supply their expences as this day one, and to morrow -another: and thus in a kinde of friendly course, each daily furnished -the Table, for the rest of the company. Oftentimes, they did honour to -divers Gentlemen and strangers, upon their arrivall in our Citty, by -inviting them into their assembly, and many of our worthiest Citizens -beside; so that it grew to a customary use, and one especially day in -the yeare appointed, in memory of this so loving a meeting, when they -would ride (triumphally as it were) on horsebacke thorow the Cittie, -sometimes performing Tilts, Tourneyes, and other Martiall exercises, -but they were reserved for Feastivall dayes. - -Among which company, there was one called, _Signior Betto Bruneleschi_, -who was earnestly desirous, to procure _Signior Guido Cavalcante de -Cavalcanti_, to make one in this their friendly society. And not -without great reason: for, over and beside his being one of the best -Logitians as those times could not yeeld a better: He was also a most -absolute naturall Philosopher (which worthy qualities were little -esteemed among these honest meeters) a very friendly Gentleman, -singularly well spoken, and whatsoever else was commendable in any man, -was no way wanting in him, being wealthy withall, and able to returne -equall honors, where he found them to be duly deserved, as no man -therein could go beyond him. But _Signior Betto_, notwithstanding his -long continued importunitie, could not draw him into their assembly, -which made him and the rest of his company conceive, that the solitude -of _Guido_, retiring himselfe alwaies from familiar conversing with -men: provoked him to many curious speculations: and because he retained -some part of the _Epicurean_ Opinion, their vulgare judgement passed on -him, that his speculations tended to no other end, but onely to finde -out that which was never done. - -It chanced upon a day, that _Signior Guido_ departing from the Church -of Saint _Michaell d'Horta_, and passing along by the _Adamari_, so -farre as to Saint _Johns_ Church, which evermore was his customarie -Walke: many goodly Marble Tombes were then about the saide Church, -as now adayes are at Saint _Reparata_, and divers more beside. He -entring among the Collumbes of Porphiry, and the other Sepulchers being -there, because the doore of the Church was shut: _Signior Betto_ & his -companie, came riding from S. _Reparata_, & espying _Signior Guido_ -among the graves and tombes, said. Come, let us go make some jests -to anger him. So putting the spurs to their horses, they rode apace -towards him: and being upon him before he perceived them, one of them -said. _Guido_ thou refusest to be one of our society, & seekest for -that which never was: when thou hast found it, tell us, what wilt thou -do with it? - -_Guido_ seeing himselfe round engirt with them, sodainly thus replyed: -Gentlemen, you may use mee in your owne house as you please. And -setting his hand on one of the Tombes (which was some-what great) he -tooke his rising, and leapt quite over it on the further side, as being -of an agile and sprightly body, and being thus freed from them, he went -away to his owne lodging. They stoode all like men amazed, strangely -looking one upon another, and began afterward to murmure among -themselves: That _Guido_ was a man without any understanding, and the -answer which he had made unto them, was to no purpose, neither savoured -of any discretion, but meerely came from an empty brain because they -had no more to do in the place where now they were, then any of the -other Citizens, and Signior _Guido_ (himselfe) as little as any of -them; whereto Signior _Betto_ thus replyed. - -Alas Gentlemen, it is you your selves that are void of understanding: -for, if you had but observed the answer which he made unto us: hee did -honestly, and (in verie few words) not onely notably expresse his owne -wisedome, but also deservedly reprehend us. Because, if wee observe -things as we ought to doe, Graves and Tombes are the houses of the -dead, ordained and prepared to be their latest dwellings. He tolde us -moreover, that although we have heere (in this life) other habitations -and abidings; yet these (or the like) must at last be our houses. To -let us know, and all other foolish, indiscreete, and unlearned men, -that we are worse then dead men, in comparison of him, and other men -equall to him in skill and learning. And therefore, while wee are heere -among these Graves and Monuments, it may well be said, that we are not -farre from our owne houses, or how soone we shall be possessors of -them, in regard of the frailty attending on us. - -Then every one could presently say, that Signior _Guido_ had spoken -nothing but the truth, and were much ashamed of their owne folly, and -shallow estimation which they had made of _Guido_, desiring never more -after to meddle with him so grossely, and thanking Signior _Betto_, for -so well reforming their ignorance, by his much better apprehension. - - - - -_Fryer_ Onyon, _promised certaine honest people of the Countrey, to -shew them a Feather of the same Phoenix, that was with_ Noah _in his -Arke. In sted whereof, he found Coales, which he avouched to be those -very coals, wherewith the same Phoenix was roasted._ - -The Tenth Novell. - -_Wherein may be observed, what palpable abuses do many times passe, -under the counterfeit Cloake of Religion._ - - -When all of them had delivered their Novels, _Dioneus_ knowing that -it remained in him to relate the last for this day: without attending -for any solemne command (after he had imposed silence on them, that -could not sufficiently commend the witty reprehension of _Guido_) -thus he began. Wise and worthy Ladies, although by the priviledge you -have granted, it is lawfull for me to speake any thing best pleasing -to my self: yet notwithstanding, it is not any part of my meaning, to -varrie from the matter and method, whereof you have spoken to very -good purpose. And therefore, following your footsteppes, I entend to -tell you, how craftily, and with a Rampiar sodainly raised in his owne -defence: a Religious Frier of Saint _Anthonies_ Order, shunned a shame, -which two wily companions had prepared for him. Nor let it offend -you, if I run into more large discourse, then this day hath bene used -by any, for the apter compleating of my Novell: because, if you well -observe it, the Sun is as yet in the middest of heaven, and therefore -you may the better forbeare me. - -_Certoldo_, as (perhaps) you know, or have heard, is a Village in -the Vale of _Elsa_, and under the authority and commaund of our -_Florence_, which although it be but small: yet (in former times) it -hath bin inhabited with Gentlemen, and people of especiall respect. A -religious Friar of S. _Anthonies_ Order, named Friar _Onyon_, had long -time used to resort thither, to receive the benevolent almes, which -those charitably affected people in simplicity gave him, & chiefly at -divers daies of the year, when their bounty and devotion would extend -themselves more largely then at other seasons. And so much the rather, -because they thought him to be a good Pastor of holy life in outward -appearance, & carried a name of much greater matter, then remained -in the man indeed; beside, that part of the country yeilded far more -plentifull abundance of Onyons, then all other in _Tuscany_ elsewhere, -a kinde of foode greatly affected by those Friars, as men alwaies -of hungry & good appetite. This Friar _Onyon_ was a man of little -stature, red haire, a chearfull countenance, and the world afforded -not a more crafty companion, then he. Moreover, albeit he had very -little knowledge or learning, yet he was so prompt, ready & voluble of -speech, uttering often he knew not what himselfe: that such as were -not wel acquainted with his qualities, supposed him to be a singular -Rhetoritian, excelling _Cicero_ or _Quintilian_ themselves; & he was -a gossip, friend, or deerely affected, by every one dwelling in those -parts. According to his wonted custome, one time he went thither in -the month of August, and on a Sunday morning, when all the dwellers -thereabout, were present to heare Masse, and in the chiefest Church -above all the rest: when the Friar saw time convenient for his purpose, -he advanced himselfe, and began to speake in this manner. - -Gentlemen and Gentlewomen, you know you have kept a commendable custom, -in sending yeerly to the poore brethren of our Lord Baron S. _Anthony_, -both of your Corne and other provision, some more, some lesse, all -according to their power, means, and devotion, to the end that -blessed S. _Anthony_ should be the more carefull of your oxen, sheep, -asses, swine, pigs, and other cattle. Moreover, you have used to pay -(especially such as have their names registred in our Fraternity) those -duties which annually you send unto us. For the collection whereof, -I am sent by my Superior, namely our L. Abbot, & therefore (with Gods -blessing) you may come after noone hither, when you shal heare the Bels -of the Church ring: then will I make a predication to you; you shall -kisse the Crosse, and beside, because I know you al to be most devout -servants to our Lord Baron S. _Anthony_, in especiall grace and favor, -I will shew you a most holy and goodly Relique, which I my selfe (long -since) brought from the holy Land beyond the seas. If you desire to -know what it is, let me tell you, that it is one of the Feathers of the -same _Phoenix_, which was in the Arke with the Patriarch _Noah_. And -having thus spoken, he became silent, returning backe to heare Masse. -While hee delivered these and the like speeches, among the other people -then in the church, there were two shrewde and crafty Companions; the -one, named _John de Bragoniero_, and the other, _Biagio Pizzino_. These -subtile Fellowes, after they had heard the report of Fryer _Onyons_ -Relique: althogh they were his intimate friends, and came thither -in his company; yet they concluded betweene themselves, to shew him -a tricke of Legierdumaine, and to steale the Feather from him. When -they had intelligence of Friar _Onyons_ dining that day at the Castle, -with a worthy Friend of his: no sooner was he set at the Table, but -away went they in all haste, to the Inne where the Fryar frequented, -with this determination, that _Biagio_ should hold conference with the -Friars boy, while his fellow ransackt the Wallet, to finde the Feather, -and carry it away with him, for a future observation, what the Friar -would say unto the people, when he found the losse of the Feather, and -could not performe his promise to them. - -The Fryars Boy, whom some called _Guccio Balena_, some _Guccio -Imbrata_, and others _Guccio Porco_, was such a knavish Lad, and had so -many bad qualities, as _Lippo Topo_ the cunning Painter, or the most -curious Poeticall wit, had not any ability to describe them. Friar -_Onyon_ himself did often observe his behaviour, and would make this -report among his Friends. My Boy (quoth he) hath nine rare qualities -in him, and such they are, as if _Salomon, Aristotle,_ or _Seneca_ had -onely but one of them: it were sufficient to torment and trouble all -their vertue, all their senses, & all their sanctity. Consider then, -what manner of man he is like to be, having nine such rarities, yet -voide of all vertue, wit, or goodnes. And when it was demaunded of -Friar _Onyon_, what these nine rare conditions were: hee having them -all readie by heart, and in rime, thus answered: - - _Boyes I have knowne, and seene, - And heard of many:_ - But, - _For Lying, Loytring, Lazinesse, - For Facing, Filching, Filthinesse; - For Carelesse, Gracelesse, all Unthriftinesse, - My Boy excelleth any._ - -Now, over and beside all these admirable qualities, hee hath manie -more such singularities, which (in favour towards him) I am faine to -conceale. But that which I smile most at in him, is that he would have -a Wife in every place where he commeth, yea, and a good house to boot -too: for, in regard his beard beginneth to shew it selfe, rising thicke -in haire, blacke and amiable, he is verily perswaded, that all Women -will fall in love with him; and if they refuse to follow him, he will -in all hast run after them. But truly, he is a notable servant to mee, -for I cannot speake with any one, and in never so great secrecy, but he -will be sure to heare his part; and when any question is demanded of -me, he standes in such awe and feare of my displeasure: that he will -bee sure to make the first answer, yea or no, according as he thinketh -most convenient. - -Now, to proceede where we left, Friar _Onyon_ having left this -serviceable youth at his lodging, to see that no bodie should -meddle with his commodities, especially his Wallet, because of the -sacred things therein contained: _Guccio Imbrata_, who as earnestly -affected to be in the Kitchin, as Birds to hop from branch to branch, -especially, when anie of the Chamber-maides were there, espyed one of -the Hostesses Female attendants, a grosse fat Trugge, low of stature, -ill faced, and worse formed, with a paire of brests like two bumbards, -smelling loathsomely of grease and sweate; downe shee descended into -the Kitchin, like a Kite upon a peece of Carion. This Boy, or Knave, -chuse whither you will style him, having carelesly left Fryar _Onyons_ -Chamber doore open, and all the holy things so much to be neglected, -although it was then the moneth of August, when heate is in the highest -predominance, yet hee would needs sit downe by the fire, and began to -conferre with this amiable creature, who was called by the name of -_Nuta_. - -Being set close by her, he told her, that he was a Gentleman by -Atturniship, and that he had more millions of Crownes, then all his -life time would serve him to spend; beside those which he payed -away dayly, as having no convenient imployment for them. Moreover, -he knew how to speake, and do such things, as were beyond wonder or -admiration. And, never remembring his olde tatterd Friars Cowle, -which was so snottie and greazie, that good store of kitchin stuffe -might have beene boiled out of it; as also a foule slovenly Trusse -or halfedoublet, all baudied with bowsing, fat greazie lubberly -sweating, and other drudgeries in the Convent Kitchin, where he was an -Officer in the meanest credite. So that to describe this sweet youth -in his lively colours, both for naturall perfections of body, and -artificiall composure of his Garments; never came the fowlest silks out -of _Tartaria_ or _India_, more ugly or unsightly to bee lookt upon. -And for a further addition to his neate knavery, his breeches were so -rent betweene his legges, his shooes and stockings had bin at such a -mercilesse massacre: that the gallantest _Commandador_ of _Castile_ -(though he had never so lately bin releast out of slavery) could have -wisht for better garments, then he; or make larger promises, then he -did to his _Nuta_. Protesting to entitle her as his onely, to free her -from the Inne and Chamber thraldomes, if she would live with him, be -his Love, partaker of his present possessions, and so to succeed in his -future Fortunes. All which bravadoes, though they were belcht foorth -with admirable insinuations: yet they converted into smoke, as all such -braggadochio behaviours do, and he was as wise at the ending, as when -he began. - -Our former named two craftie Companions, seeing _Guccio Porco_ so -seriously employed about _Nuta_, was there-with not a little contented, -because their intended labour was now more then halfe ended. And -perceiving no contradiction to crosse their proceeding, into Friar -_Onyons_ chamber entred they, finding it ready open for their purpose: -where the first thing that came into their hand in search, was the -wallet. When they had opened it, they found a small Cabinet, wrapped in -a great many foldings of rich Taffata; and having unfolded it, a fine -formall Key was hanging thereat: wherewith having unlockt the Cabinet, -they found a faire Feather of a Parrots taile, which they supposed to -bee the verie same, that he meant to shew the people of _Certaldo_. -And truly (in those dayes) it was no hard matter to make them beleeve -anything, because the idle vanities of _Ægypt_ and those remoter parts, -had not (as yet) bin seene in _Tuscany_, as since then they have bin in -great abundance, to the utter ruine (almost) of _Italy_. - -And although they might then be knowne to very few, yet the inhabitants -of the Country generally, understoode little or nothing at all of -them. For there, the pure simplicitie of their ancient predecessours -still continuing; they had not seene any Parrots, or so much as heard -any speech of them. Wherefore the two crafty consorts, not a little -joyfull of finding the Feather, tooke it thence with them, and because** -they would not leave the Cabinet empty, espying Char-coales lying in a -corner of the Chamber, they filled it with them, wrapping it up againe -in the Taffata, and in as demure manner as they found it. So, away came -they with the Feather, neither seene or suspected by any one, intending -now to heare what Friar _Onyon_ would say, uppon the losse of his -precious Relique, and finding the Coales there placed insted thereof. - -The simple men and women of the country, who had bin at morning Masse -in the Church, and heard what a wonderfull Feather they should see -in the after noone; returned in all hast to their houses, where one -telling this newes to another, and gossip with gossip consulting -thereon; they made the shorter dinner, and afterward flocked in maine -troopes to the Castle, contending who shold first get entrance, such -was their devotion to see the holy feather. Friar _Onyon_ having -dined, and reposed a little after his wine, he arose from the table to -the window, where beholding what multitudes came to see the feather, -he assured himselfe of good store of mony. Hereupon, he sent to his -Boy _Guccio Imbrata_, that uppon the Bels ringing, he should come and -bring the wallet to him. Which (with much ado) he did, so soone as -his quarrell was ended in the kitchin, with the amiable Chamber-maid -_Nuta_, away then he went with his holy commodities: where he was no -sooner arrived, but because his belly was readie to burst with drinking -water, he sent him to the Church to ring the bels, which not onely -would warme the cold water in his belly, but likewise make him run as -gaunt as a Grey-hound. - -When all the people were assembled in the Church together, Friar -_Onyon_ (never distrusting any injurie offered him, or that his close -commodities had bin medled withall) began his predication, uttering a -thousand lies to fit his purpose. And when he came to shew the feather -of the Phoenix (having first in great devotion finisht the confession) -he caused two goodly torches to be lighted, & ducking downe his head -three severall times, before hee would so much as touch the Taffata, he -opened it with much reverence. So soone as the Cabinet came to be seen, -off went his Hood, lowly he bowed downe his body, and uttering especial -praises of the Phoenix, and sacred properties of the wonderfull -Relique, the Cover of the Cabinet being lifted uppe, he saw the same -to bee full of Coales. He could not suspect his Villaine boy to do -this deede, for he knew him not to be endued with so much wit, onely -hee curst him for keeping it no better, and curst himselfe also, for -reposing trust in such a careles knave, knowing him to be slothfull, -disobedient, negligent, and void of all honest understanding or grace. -Sodainly (without blushing) lest his losse should be discerned, he -lifted his lookes and hands to heaven, speaking out so loude, as every -one might easily heare him, thus: O thou omnipotent providence, for -ever let thy power be praised. Then making fast the Cabinet againe, and -turning himselfe to the people, with lookes expressing admiration, he -proceeded in this manner. - -Lords, Ladies, and you the rest of my worthy Auditors: You are to -understand, that I (being then very young) was sent by my Superiour, -into those parts, where the Sun appeareth at his first rising. And -I had received charge by expresse command, that I should seeke for -(so much as consisted in my power to do) the especiall vertues and -priviledges belonging to Porcellane, which although the boyling -thereof bee worth but little, yet it is very profitable to any but -us. In regard whereof, being upon my journey, and departing from -_Venice_, passing along the _Borgo de Grecia_, I proceeded thence (on -horseback) through the Realme of _Garbo_, so to _Baldacca_, till I came -to _Parione_; from whence, not without great extremity of thirst, I -arrived in _Sardignia_. - -But why do I trouble you with the repetition of so many countries? -I coasted on still, after I had past Saint _Georges Arme_, into -_Trussia_, and then into _Bussia_, which are Countries much inhabited, -and with great people. From thence I went into the _Land of Lying_, -where I found store of the Brethren of our Religion, and many other -beside, who shunned all paine and labour, onely for the love of God, -and cared as little, for the paines and travailes which others tooke, -except some benefit arised thereby to them; nor spend they any money -in this Country, but such as is without stampe. Thence I went into the -Land of _Abruzzi_, where the men and women goe in Galoches over the -Mountaines, and make them garments of their Swines guts. Not farre from -thence, I found people, that carried bread in their staves, and wine -in Satchels, when parting from them, I arrived among the Mountaines of -_Bacchus_, where all the waters run downe with a deepe fall, and in -short time, I went on so far, that I found my selfe to be in _India -Pastinaca_; where I swear to you by the holy habit which I weare on my -body, that I saw Serpents flye, things incredible, and such as were -never seene before. - -But because I would be loth to lye, so soone as I departed thence, I -met with _Maso de Saggio_, who was a great Merchant there, and whom I -found cracking Nuts, and selling Cockles by retale. Neverthelesse, al -this while I could not finde what I sought for, and therefore I was -to passe from hence by water, if I intended to travaile thither, and -so in returning back, I came into the _Holy Land_, where coole fresh -bread is sold for fourepence, and the hot is given away for nothing. -There I found the venerable Father (blame me not I beseech you) the -most woorthie Patriarch of _Jerusalem_, who for the reverence due to -the habite I weare, and love to our Lord Baron Saint _Anthony_, would -have me to see al the holy Reliques, which he had there under his -charge: whereof there were so many, as if I should recount them all to -you, I never could come to a conclusion. But yet, not to leave you -discomforted, I will relate some few of them to you. - -First of all, he shewed me the finger of the holy Ghost, so whole and -perfect, as ever it was. Next, the nose of the Cherubin, which appeared -to Saint _Frances_; with the payring of the naile of a Seraphin; and -one of the ribbes of _Verbum caro_, fastened to one of the Windowes, -covered with the holy garments of the Catholique Faith. Then he tooke -me into a darke Chappel, where he shewed me divers beames of the -Starre that appeared to the three Kings in the East. Also a Violl of -Saint _Michaels_ sweate, when he combatted with the divell: And the -jaw-bone of dead _Lazarus_, with many other precious things beside. -And because I was liberall to him, giving him two of the Plaines of -_Monte Morello_, in the Vulgare Edition, and some of the Chapters _del -Caprezio_, which he had long laboured in search of; he bestowed on me -some of his Reliques. - -First, he gave me one of the eye-teeth of _Santa Crux_; and a little -Violl, filled with some part of the sound of those Belles, which hung -in the sumptuous Temple of _Salomon_. Next, he gave mee the Feather -of the Phoenix, which was with _Noah_ in the Arke, as before I told -you. And one of the Woodden Pattens, which the good Saint _Gerrard de -Magnavilla_ used to weare in his travailes, and which I gave (not long -since) to _Gerrardo di Bousy_ at _Florence_, where it is respected with -much devotion. Moreover, he gave me a few of those Coales, wherewith the -Phoenix of _Noah_ was roasted; all which things I brought away thence -with me. Now, most true it is, that my Superiour would never suffer mee -to shew them any where, untill he was faithfully certified, whether -they were the same precious Reliques, or no. But perceyving by sundrie -Myracles which they have wrought, and Letters of sufficient credence -receyved from the reverend Patriarch, that all is true, he hath -graunted me permission to shew them, and because I wold not trust any -one with matters of such moment, I my selfe brought them hither with me. - -Now I must tell you, that the Feather of the same Phoenix, I conveyed -into a small Cabinet or Casket, because it should not be bent or -broken. And the Coales wherewith the said Phoenix was roasted, I put -into another Casket, in all respects so like to the former, that many -times I have taken one for another. As now at this instant it hath bin -my fortune: for, imagining that I brought the Casket with the feather, -I mistooke my self, & brought the other with the coales. Wherein -doubtles I have not offended, because I am certaine, that we of our -Order do not any thing, but it is ordred by divine direction, and our -blessed Patron the Lorde Baron Saint _Anthony_. And so much the rather, -because about a senight hence, the Feast of Saint _Anthony_ is to bee -solemnized, against the preparation whereof, and to kindle your zeale -with the greater fervencie: he put the Casket with the Coales into -my hand, meaning, to let you see the Feather, at some more fitting -season. And therefore my blessed Sonnes and Daughters, put off your -Bonnets, and come hither with devotion to looke upon them. But first -let me tell you, whosoever is marked by any of these Coales, with the -signe of the Crosse: he or she shall live all this yeare happily, and no -fire whatsoever shall come neere to touch or hurt them. So, singing a -solemne Antheme in the praise of S. _Anthony_, he unveyled the Casket, -and shewed the Coales openly. - -The simple multitude, having (with great admiration and reverence) -a long while beheld them, they thronged in crouds to Fryar _Onyon_, -giving him farre greater offerings, then before they had, and -entreating him to marke them each after other. Whereupon, he taking -the coales in his hand, began to marke their garments of white, and -the veyles on the Womens heads, with Crosses of no meane extendure: -affirming to them, that the more the Coales wasted with making those -great crosses, the more they still encreased in the Casket, as often -before hee had made triall. - -In this manner, having crossed all the _Certaldanes_ (to his great -benefit) and their abuse: he smiled at his sodaine and dexterious -devise, in mockery of them, who thought to have made a scorne of him, -by dispossessing him of the Feather. For _Bragoniero_ and _Pizzino_, -being present at his Learned predication, and having heard what -a cunning shift he found, to come off cleanly, without the least -detection, and all delivered with such admirable protestations: they -were faine to forsake the Church, least they should have burst with -laughing. - -But when all the people were parted and gone, they met Friar _Onyon_ -at his Inne, where closely they discovered to him, what they had done, -delivering him his Feather againe: which the yeare following, did yeeld -him as much money, as now the Coales had done. - - * * * * * - -This Novell affoorded equall pleasing to the whole companie, Friar -_Onyons_ Sermon being much commended, but especially his long -Pilgrimage, and the Reliques he had both seene, and brought home -with him. Afterward, the Queene perceiving, that her reigne had now -the full expiration, graciously she arose, and taking the Crowne -from off her owne head, placed on the head of _Dioneus_, saying. It -is high time _Dioneus_, that you should taste part of the charge & -paine, which poore women have felt and undergone in their soveraigntie -and government: wherefore, be you our King, and rule us with such -awefull authority, that the ending of your dominion may yeelde us all -contentment. _Dioneus_ being thus invested with the Crowne, returned -this answer. - -I make no doubt (bright Beauties) but you many times have seene as -good, or a better King among the Chesse-men, then I am. But yet of a -certainty, if you would be obedient to me, as you ought in dutie unto -a true King: I should grant you a liberall freedome of that, wherein -you take the most delight, and without which, our choisest desires can -never be compleate. Neverthelesse, I meane, that my government shall be -according to mine owne minde. So, causing the Master of the Houshold to -be called for, as all the rest were wont to do for conference with him: -he gave him direction, for al things fitting the time of his Regiment, -and then turning to the Ladies, thus he proceeded. - -Honest Ladies, we have alreadie discoursed of variable devises, and -so many severall manners of humane industry, concerning the busines -wherewith _Licisca_ came to acquaint us: that her very words, have -ministred me matter, sufficient for our morrowes conference, or else I -stand in doubt, that I could not have devised a more convenient Theame -for us to talke on. She (as you have all heard) saide, that shee had -not anie neighbour, who came a true Virgin to her Husband, and added -moreover, that she knew some others, who had beguiled their Husbandes, -in very cunning and crafty manner. But setting aside the first part, -concerning the proofe of children, I conceive the second to bee more -apte for our intended argument. In which respect, my will is (seeing -_Licisca_ hath given us so good an occasion) that our discoursing to -morrow,** may onely concerne such slye cunning and deceits, as women have -heeretofore used, for satisfying their owne appetites, and beguiling -their Husbands, without their knowledge, or suspition, and cleanly -escaping with them, or no. - -This argument seemed not very pleasing to the Ladies, and therefore -they urged an alteration thereof, to some matter better suting with the -day, and their discoursing: whereto thus he answered. Ladies, I know as -well as your selves, why you would have this instant argument altered: -but, to change me from it you have no power, considering the season -is such, as shielding all (both men and women) from medling with any -dishonest action; it is lawfull for us to speake of what wee please. -And know you not, that through the sad occasion of the time, which now -over-ruleth us, the Judges have forsaken their venerable benches, the -Lawes (both divine and humane) ceasing, granting ample license to every -one, to do what best agreeth with the conservation of life? Therefore, -if your honesties doe straine themselves a little, both in thinking -and speaking, not for prosecution of any immodest deede, but onely for -familiar and blamelesse entercourse: I cannot devise a more convenient -ground, at least that carrieth apparant reason, for reproofe of perils, -to ensue by any of you. Moreover, your company, which hath bin most -honest, since the first day of our meeting, to this instant: appeareth -not any jot to be disgraced, by any thing either said or done, neither -shall be (I hope) in the meanest degree. - -And what is he, knowing your choise and vertuous dispositions, so -powerfull in their owne prevailing, that wanton words cannot misguide -your wayes, no nor the terror of death it selfe, that dare insinuate a -distempred thought? But admit, that some slight or shallow judgements, -hearing you (perhaps sometimes) talke of such amorous follies, should -therefore suspitiously imagine you to be faulty, or else you would bee -more sparing of speech? Their wit and censure are both alike, favouring -rather of their owne vile nature, who would brand others with their -basebred imperfections. Yet there is another consideration beside, of -some great injury offered to mine honor, and whereof I know not how you -can acquit your selves. - -I that have bin obedient to you all, and borne the heavy load of your -businesse, having now (with full consent) created mee your King, you -would wrest the law out of my hands, and dispose of my authoritie as -you please. Forbeare (gentle Ladies) all frivolous suspitions, more fit -for them that are full of bad thoughts, then you, who have true Vertue -shining in your eyes; and therefore, let every one freely speake their -minde, according as their humours best pleaseth them. - -When the Ladies heard this, they made answer, that all should bee -answerable to his minde. Whereupon, the King gave them all leave -to dispose of themselves till supper time. And because the Sun -was yet very high, in regard all the re counted Novels had bin so -short: _Dioneus_ went to play at the Tables with another of the yong -Gentlemen, & Madame _Eliza_, having withdrawne the Ladies aside, thus -spake unto them. During the time of our being heere, I have often bene -desirous to let you see a place somwhat neere at hand, and which I -suppose you have never seene, it being called _The Valley of Ladies_. -Till now, I could not finde any convenient time to bring you thither, -the Sunne continuing still aloft, which fitteth you with the apter -leysure, and the sight (I am sure) can no way discontent you. - -The Ladies replyed, that they were all ready to walk with her thither: -and calling one of their women to attend on them, they set on, without -speaking a word to any of the men. And within the distance of halfe -a mile, they arrived at the _Valley of Ladies_, whereinto they entred -by a strait passage at the one side, from whence there issued forth a -cleare running River. And they found the saide Valley to bee so goodly -and pleasant, especially in that season, which was the hottest of all -the yeare; as all the world was no where able to yeeld the like. And, -as one of the said Ladies (since then) related to mee, there was a -plaine in the Valley so directly round, as if it had beene formed by a -compasse, yet rather it resembled the Workmanship of Nature, then to be -made by the hand of man: containing in circuite somewhat more then the -quarter of a mile, environed with sixe small hils, of no great height, -and on each of them stood a little Palace, shaped in the fashion of -Castles. - -The ground-plots descending from those hils or mountaines, grew lesse -and lesse by variable degrees, as wee observe at entering into our -Theaters, from the highest part to the lowest, succinctly to narrow -the circle by order. Now, concerning these ground-plottes or little -Meadowes, those which the Sun Southward looked on, were full of Vines, -Olive-trees, Almond-trees, Cherry-trees, and Figge-trees, with divers -other Trees beside, so plentifully bearing fruites, as you could not -discerne a hands bredth of losse. The other Mountaines, whereon the -Northerne windes blow, were curiously covered with small Thickets or -Woods of Oakes, Ashes, and other Trees so greene and straite, as it was -impossible to behold fairer. The goodly plaine it selfe, not having any -other entrance, but where the Ladies came in, was planted with Trees of -Firre, Cipresse, Laurell, and Pines; so singularly growing in formall -order, as if some artificiall or cunning hand had planted them, the Sun -hardly piercing through their branches, from the top to the bottome, -even at his highest, or any part of his course. - -All the whole field was richly spred with grasse, and such variety of -delicate Flowers, as Nature yeilded out of her plenteous Store-house. -But that which gave no lesse delight then any of the rest, was a small -running Brooke, descending from one of the Vallies, that divided two -of the little hils, and fell through a Veine of the intire Rocke it -selfe, that the fall and murmure thereof was most delightfull to heare, -seeming all the way in the descent, like Quicke-silver, weaving it -selfe into artificiall workes, and arriving in the plaine beneath, it -was there receyved into a small Channell, swiftly running through the -midst of the plaine, to a place where it stayed, and shaped it selfe -into a Lake or Pond, such as our Citizens have in their Orchards or -Gardens, when they please to make use of such a commodity. - -This Pond was no deeper, then to reach the breast of a man, and having -no mud or soyle in it, the bottome thereof shewed like small beaten -gravell, with prety pibble stones intermixed, which some that had -nothing else to do, would sit downe and count them as they lay, as -very easily they might. And not onely was the bottome thus apparantly -seene, but also such plenty of Fishes swimming every way, as the mind -was never to be wearied in looking on them. Nor was this water bounded -in with any bankes, but onely the sides of the plain Medow, which -made it appeare the more sightly, as it arose in swelling plenty. And -alwayes as it super-abounded in his course, least it should overflow -disorderly: it fell into another Channell, which conveying it along the -lower Valley, ran forth to water other needfull places. - -When the Ladies were arrived in this goodly valley, and upon advised -viewing it, had sufficiently commended it: in regard the heat of the -day was great, the place tempting, and the Pond free from sight of -any, they resolved there to bathe themselves. Wherefore they sent -the waiting Gentlewoman to have a diligent eye on the way where they -entered, least any one should chance to steale upon them. All seven -of them being stript naked, into the water they went, which hid their -delicate white bodies, like as a cleare Glasse concealeth a Damask -Rose within it. So they being in the Pond, and the water nothing -troubled by their being there, they found much prety pastime together, -running after the Fishes, to catch them with their hands, but they were -over-quicke and cunning for them. After they had delighted themselves -there to their owne contentment, and were cloathed with their garments, -as before: thinking it fit time for their returning backe againe, least -their over-long stay might give offence, they departed thence in an -easie pace, dooing nothing else all the way as they went, but extolling -the _Valley of Ladies_ beyond all comparison. - -At the Palace they arrived in a due houre, finding the three Gentlemen -at play, as they left them, to whom Madame _Pampinea_ pleasantly thus -spake. Now trust me Gallants, this day wee have very cunningly beguiled -you. How now? answered _Dioneus_, begin you first to act, before you -speake? Yes truly Sir, replyed Madame _Pampinea_: Relating to him at -large, from whence they came, what they had done there, the beautie -of the place, and the distance thence. The King (upon hir excellent -report) being very desirous to see it; sodainely commaunded Supper -to be served in, which was no sooner ended, but they and their three -servants (leaving the Ladies) walked on to the _Valley_, which when -they had considered, no one of them having ever bin there before; they -thought it to be the Paradise of the World. - -They bathed themselves there likewise, as the Ladies formerlie had -done, and being re-vested, returned backe to their Lodgings, because -darke night drew on apace: but they found the Ladies dauncing, to a -Song which Madame _Fiammetta_ sung. When the dance was ended, they -entertained the time with no other discourse, but onely concerning the -_Valley of Ladies_, whereof they all spake liberally in commendations. -Whereupon, the King called the Master of the Houshold, giving him -command, that (on the morrow) dinner should be readie betimes, and -bedding to be thence carried, if any desired rest at mid-time of the -day. - -All this being done, variety of pleasing Wines were brought, -Banquetting stuffe, and other dainties; after which they fell to -Dauncing. And _Pamphilus_, having receyved command, to begin an -especial dance, the King turned himselfe unto Madame _Eliza_, speaking -thus. Faire Lady, you have done me so much honour this day, as to -deliver mee the Crowne: in regard whereof, be you this night the -Mistresse of the song: and let it be such as best may please your -selfe. Whereunto Madam _Eliza_, with a modest blush arising in her -face, replyed; That his will should be fulfilled, and then (with a -delicate voyce) she beganne in this manner. - - _The Song._ - - The CHORUS sung by all. - - _Love, if I can scape free from forth thy holde, - Beleeve it for a truth, - Never more shall thy falshoode me enfolde._ - - _When I was yong, I entred first thy fights, - Supposing there to finde a solemne peace: - I threw off all my Armes, and with delights - Fed my poore hopes, as still they did encrease. - But like a Tyrant, full of rancorous hate - Thou tookst advantage: - And I sought refuge, but it was too late. - Love, if I can scape free, &c._ - - _But being thus surprized in thy snares, - To my misfortune, thou madst me her slave; - Was onely borne to feede me with despaires, - And keepe me dying in a living grave. - For I saw nothing dayly fore mine eyes, - But rackes and tortures: - From which I could not get in any wise. - Love, if I can scape free, &c._ - - _My sighes and teares I vented to the winde, - For none would heare or pittie my complaints; - My torments still encreased in this kinde, - And more and more I felt these sharpe restraints. - Release me now at last from forth this hell. - Asswage thy rigour, - Delight not thus in cruelty to dwell, - Love, if I can scape free, &c._ - - _If this thou wilt not grant, be yet so kinde, - Release me from these worse then servile bands, - Which new vaine hopes have bred, wherein I finde; - Such violent feares, as comfort quite withstands. - Be now (at length) a little moov'd to pittie, - Be it nere so little: - Or in my death listen my Swan-like Dittie._ - - _Love, if I can scape free from forth thy holde, - Beleeve it for a truth, - Never more shall thy falshood me enfolde._ - -After that Madame _Eliza_ had made an end of her Song, which shee -sealed up with an heart-breaking sigh: they all sate amazedly wondering -at her moanes, not one among them being able to conjecture, what should -be the reason of her singing in this manner. But the King being in a -good and pleasing temper, calling _Tindaro_, commaunded him to bring -his Bagge-pipe, by the sound whereof they danced divers daunces: And a -great part of the night being spent in this manner, they all gave over, -and departed to their Chambers. - -_The End of the Sixth Day._ - - - - -The Seventh Day. - -_When the Assembly being met together, and under the Regiment of_ -Dioneus: _the Discourses are directed, for the discoverie of such -policies and deceites, as women have used for beguiling of their -Husbandes, either in respect of their love, or for the prevention of -some blame or scandal, escaping without sight, knowledge or otherwise._ - -The Induction to the Dayes Discourses. - - -All the Starres were departed out of the East, but onely that, which -we commonly cal bright _Lucifer_, or the Day-Star, gracing the morning -very gloriously: when the Master of the household, being risen, went -with all the provision, to the _Valley of Ladies_, to make everie -thing in due and decent readines, according as his Lord over-night had -commanded him. After which departure of his, it was not long before the -King arose, beeing awaked with the noise which the carriages made; and -when he was up, the other two Gentlemen and the Ladies were quickly -readie soone after. On they set towards the _Valley_, even as the -Sunne was rising: and all the way as they went, never before had they -heard so many sweete Nightingales, and other pretty Birds melodiously -singing, as they did this morning, which keeping them company -thoroughout the journey, they arrived at the _Valley of Ladies_, where -it seemed to them, that infinit Quires of delicate Nightingales, and -other Birds, had purposely made a meeting, even as it were to give them -a glad welcome thither. - -Divers times they walked about the _Valley_, never satisfied with -viewing it from one end to the other; because it appeared farre -more pleasing unto them, then it had done the precedent day: and -because the dayes splendour was much more conforme to the beauty -thereof. After they had broken their fast, with excellent Wines and -Banquetting stuffe, they began to tune their instruments and sing; -because (therein) the sweet Birds should not excell them, the _Valley_ -(with delicate Echoes) answering all their notes. When dinner time -drew neere, the Tables were covered under the spreading trees, and -by the goodly Ponds side, where they sate downe orderly by the Kings -direction: and all dinner while, they saw the Fishes swimme by huge -shoales in the Pond, which sometimes gave them occasion to talke, as -well as gaze on them. - -When dinner was ended, and the Tables withdrawne, in as jocond manner -as before, they renewed againe their hermonious singing. In divers -places of this pleasant _Valley_, were goodly field-Beds readily -furnished, according as the Master of the Houshold gave enstruction, -enclosed with Pavillions of costly stuffes, such as are sometimes -brought out of _France_. Such as were so disposed, were licensed by the -King to take their rest: and they that would not, he permitted them to -their wonted pastimes, each according to their minds. But when they -were risen from sleepe, and the rest from their other exercises, it -seemed to be more then high time, that they should prepare for talke -and conference. So, sitting downe on Turky Carpets, which were spred -abroad on the green grasse, and close by the place where they had -dined: the King gave command, that Madam _Æmillia_ should first begin, -whereto she willingly yeelding obedience, and expecting such silent -attention, as formerly had bin observed, thus she began. - - - - -John _of_ Lorraine _heard one knocke at his doore in the night time, -whereuppon he awaked his Wife_ Monna Tessa. _She made him beleeve, that -it was a Spirit which knocked at the doore, and so they arose, going -both together to conjure the Spirit with a prayer; and afterwardes, -they heard no more knocking._ - -The First Novell. - -_Reprehending the simplicity of some sottish Husbands: And discovering -the wanton subtilties of some women, to compasse their unlawfull -desires._ - - -My Gracious Lord (quoth Madame _Æmillia_) it had bene a matter highly -pleasing to mee, that any other (rather than my selfe) should have -begun to speake of this argument, which it hath pleased you to apoint. -But seeing it is your Highnesse pleasure, that I must make a passage of -assurance for all the rest; I will not be irregular, because obedience -is our cheefe Article. I shall therefore (Gracious Ladies) strive, -to speake something, which may bee advantageable to you heereafter, -in regard, that if other women bee as fearfull as we, especially of -Spirits, of which all our sexe have generally bin timorous (although, -upon my credite, I know not what they are, nor ever could meete with -any, to tell me what they be) you may by the diligent observation of -my Novell: learne a wholesome and holy prayer, very availeable, and of -precious power, to conjure and drive them away, whensoever they shall -presume to assault you in any place. - -There dwelt sometime in _Florence_, and in the street of Saint -_Brancazio_, a woollen Weaver, named _John_ of _Lorrayne_; a man -more happy in his Art, then wise in any thing else beside: because, -favouring somewhat of the _Gregorie_, and (in very deede) little lesse -then an Ideot; Hee was many times made Captain of the Woollen-Weavers, -in the quarters belonging to _Santa Maria Novella_, and his house was -the Schoole or receptacle, for all their meetings and assemblies. He -had divers other petty Offices beside, by the dignity and authority -whereof, hee supposed himselfe much exalted or elevated, above the -common pitch of other men. And this humour became the more tractable -to him, because he addicted himselfe oftentimes (as being a man of an -easie inclination) to be a benefactor to the holy Fathers of _Santa -Maria Novella_, giving (beside his other charitable Almes) to someone -a paire of Breeches, to another a Hood, and to another a whole habit. -In reward whereof, they taught him (by heart) many wholesome prayers, as -the _Pater noster_ in the vulgar tongue; the Song of Saint _Alexis_; -the Lamentations of Saint _Bernard_, the Hymne of Madame _Matilda_, -and many other such like matters, which he kept charily, and repeated -usually, as tending to the salvation of his soule. - -This man, had a very faire and lovely wife, named _Monna Tessa_, the -daughter of _Manuccio della Cuculia_, wise and well advised; who -knowing the simplicity of her Husband, and affecting _Frederigo di -Neri Pegolotti_, who was a comely yong Gentleman, fresh, and in the -floure of his time, even as she was, therefore they agreed the better -together. By meanes of her Chamber-maid, _Frederigo_ and shee met often -together, at a Countrie Farme of _John_ of _Lorraynes_, which hee had -neere to _Florence_, and where she used to lodge all the Summer time, -called _Camerata_, whether _John_ resorted somtimes to Supper, and -lodge for a night, returning home againe to his City house the next -morning; yet often he would stay there longer with his owne companions. - -_Frederigo_, who was no meane man in his Mistresses favor, and -therefore these private meetings the more welcome to him; received a -summons or assignation from her, to be there on such a night, when hir -husband had no intent of comming thither. There they supped merrily -together, and (no doubt) did other things, nothing appertaining to -our purpose, she both acquainting, and well instructing him, in a -dozen (at the least) of her Husbands devout prayers. Nor did shee -make any account, or _Frederigo_ either, that this should be the last -time of their meeting, because (indeede) it was not the first: and -therefore they set down an order and conclusion together (because the -Chambermaide must be no longer the messenger) in such manner as you -shall heare. - -_Frederigo_ was to observe especially, that alwayes when hee went -or came from his owne house, which stood much higher then _John_ of -_Lorraynes_ did, to looke upon a Vine, closely adjoyning to her house, -where stood the scull of an Asses head, advanced upon an high pole; & -when the face thereof looked towards _Florence_, he might safely come, -it being an assured signe, that _John_ kept at home. And if he found -the doore fast shut, he should softly knocke three severall times, and -thereon bee admitted entrance. But if the face stood towards _Fiesola_; -then he might not come, for it was the signe of _Johns_ being there, -and then there might be no medling at all. - -Having thus agreed upon this conclusion, and had many merry meetings -together: one night above the rest, where _Frederigo_ was appointed to -suppe with _Monna Tessa_, who had made ready two fat Capons, drest in -most dainty and delicate manner: it fell out so unfortunately, that -_John_ (whose Kue was not to come that night) came thither -very late, yet before _Frederigo_, wherewith she being not a little -offended, gave _John_ a slight supper, of Lard, Bacon, and such like -coarse provision, because the other was kept for a better guest. In -the meane time, and while _John_ was at supper, the Maide (by her -Mistresses direction) had conveighed the two Capons, with boyled Egges, -Bread and a Bottle of Wine (all folded up in a faire cleane table -cloth) into her Garden, that had a passage to it, without entering into -the house, and where shee had divers times supt with _Frederigo_. She -further willed the Maide, to set all those things under a Peach-tree, -which adjoyned to the fields side: but, so angry she was at her -husbands unexpected comming, that shee forgot to bid her tarrie there, -till _Frederigoes_ comming; and to tell him of _Johns_ being there: as -also, to take what he found prepared readie for his Supper. - -_John_ and she being gone to bed together, and the Maide likewise, it -was not long after, before _Frederigo_ came, and knocking once softly -at the doore, which was very neere to their lodging Chamber, _John_ -heard the noise, and so did his wife. But to the end, that _John_ -might not have the least scruple of suspition, she seemed to be fast -asleepe; and _Frederigo_ pausing a while, according to the order -directed, knockt againe the second time. _John_ wondering thereat very -much, jogd his wife a little, and saide to her: _Tessa_, hearest thou -nothing? Me thinkes one knocketh at our doore. _Monna Tessa_, who was -better acquainted with the knocke, then plaine honest meaning _John_ -was, dissembling as if shee awaked out of a drowsie dreame, saide: -Alas Husband, dost thou know what this is? In the name of our blessed -Ladie, be not affraid, this is but the Spirit which haunts our Countrey -houses, whereof I have often told thee, and it hath many times much -dismayed me, living heere alone without thy comfort. Nay, such hath bin -my feare, that in divers nights past, so soone as I heard the knockes: -I was feigne to hide my selfe in the bedde over-head and eares (as we -usually say) never daring to be so bold, as to looke out, untill it -was broad open day. Arise good wife (quoth _John_) and if it be such -a Spirit of the Countrey, as thou talkest of, never be affraid; for -before we went to bed, I said the _Telucis_, the _Intemerata_, with -many other good prayers beside. Moreover, I made the signe of the -Crosse at every corner of our bed, in the name of the Father, Son, and -holy Ghost, so that no doubt at all needs to be made, of any power it -can have to hurt or touch us. - -_Monna Tessa_, because (perhaps) _Frederigo_ might receive some other -suspition, and so enter into distaste of her by anger or offence: -determined to arise indeede, and to let him covertly understand, that -_John_ was there, and therefore saide to her husband. Beleeve me -_John_, thy counsell is good, and every one of thy words hath wisedome -in it: but I hold it best for our owne safety, thou being heere; that -wee should conjure him quite away, to the end he may never more haunt -our house. Conjure him Wife? Quoth _John_, By what meanes? and how? -Bee patient good man (quoth _Tessa_) and I will enstruct thee. I have -learned an excellent kinde of conjuration; for, the last weeke, when -I went to procure the pardons at _Fiesola_, one of the holy recluse -Nuns, who (indeede _John_) is my indeered Sister and Friend, and the -most sanctimonius in life of them all; perceiving me to be troubled -and terrified by Spirits; taught me a wholesome and holy prayer, and -protested withall, that shee had often made experiment thereof, before -she became a Recluse, & found it (alwayes) a present helpe to her. -Yet never durst I adventure to essay it, living heere by my selfe all -alone: but honest _John_, seeing thou art heere with me, we will go -both together, and conjure this Spirit. _John_ replyed, that he was -very willing; and being both up, they went fayre and softly to the -doore, where _Frederigo_ stoode still without, and was growne somewhat -suspitious of his long attendance. - -When they were come to the doore, _Monna Tessa_ said to _John_: Thou -must cough and spet, at such time as I shall bid thee. Well (quoth -_John_) I will not faile you. Immediately she beganne her prayer in -this manner. - - _Spirit, that walkst thus in the night, - Poore Countrey people to affright: - Thou hast mistane thy marke and ayme, - The head stood right, but_ John _home came, - And therefore thou must packe away, - For I have nothing else to say: - But to my Garden get the gone, - Under the Peach-tree stands alone, - There shalt thou finde two Capons drest, - And Egges laide in mine owne Hennes nest, - Bread, and a Bottle of good wine, - All wrapt up in a cloath most fine. - Is not this good Goblins fare? - Packe and say you have your share; - Not doing harme to_ John _or me, - Who this night keepes me companie._ - -No sooner had she ended her devoute conjuring prayer, but she saide -to her husband: Now _John_, cough and spet: which _John_ accordingly -did. And _Frederigo_, being all this while without, hearing her witty -conjuration of a Spirit, which he himselfe was supposed to be, being -ridde of his former jealous suspition: in the middst of all his -melancholy, could very hardly refraine from laughing, the jest appeared -so pleasing to him: But when _John_ cought and spet, softly he said to -himselfe: When next thou spetst, spet out all thy teeth. - -The woman having three severall times conjured the Spirite, in such -manner you have already heard; returned to bed againe with her -husband: and _Frederigo_, who came as perswaded to sup with her, being -supperlesse all this while; directed by the words of _Monna Tessa_ in -hir praier, went into the Garden. At the foot of the Peach-tree, there -he found the linnen cloth, with the two hot Capons, Bread, Egges, and a -Bottle of Wine in it, all which he carried away with him, and went to -Supper at better leysure. Oftentimes afterward, upon other meetings of -_Frederigo_ and she together, they laughed heartily at her enchantment, -and the honest beleefe of silly _John_. - -I cannot deny, but that some do affirme, that the Woman had turned -the face of the Asses head towards _Fiesola_, and a Country Travailer -passing by the Vine, having a long piked staffe on his necke; the -staffe, (by chance) touched the head, and made it turne divers -times about, & in the end faced _Florence_, which being the cal for -_Frederigoes_ comming, by this meanes he was disappointed. In like -manner some say, that _Monna Tessaes_ prayer for conjuring the Spirit, -was in this order. - - _Spirit, Spirit, go thy way, - And come againe some other day, - It was not I that turnd the head, - But some other. In our Bed - Are John and I: Go from our dore, - And see thou trouble us no more._ - -So that _Frederigo_ departed thence, both with the losse of his labour -& supper. But a neighbour of mine, who is a woman of good yeares, told -me, that both the one and other were true, as she her selfe heard, when -she was a little Girle. And concerning the latter accident, it was -not to _John_ of _Lorrayne_, but to another, named _John de Nello_, -that dwelt at S. _Peters_ Gate, and of the same profession as _John_ -of _Lorrayne_ was. Wherefore (faire Ladies) it remaineth in your owne -choice, to entertain which of the two prayers you please, or both -together if you will: for they are of extraordinary vertue in such -strange occurrences, as you have heeretofore heard, and (upon doubt) -may prove by experience. It shall not therefore be amisse for you, to -learne them both by hart, for (peradventure) they may stand you in good -sted, if ever you chance to have the like occasion. - - - - -Peronella _hid a yong man her friend and Lover, under a great brewing -Fat, upon the sodaine returning home of her Husband; who told her, that -hee had solde the saide Fat, and brought him that bought it, to carry -it away._ Peronella _replyed, that shee had formerly solde it unto -another, who was nowe underneath it, to see whether it were whole and -sound, or no. Whereupon, he being come forth from under it; she caused -her Husband to make it neate and cleane, and so the last buyer carried -it away._ - -The Second Novell. - -_Wherein is declared, what hard and narrow shifts and distresses, such -as bee seriously linked in Love, are many times enforced to undergo: -According as their owne wit, and capacitie of their surprizers, drive -them to in extremities._ - - -Not without much laughter and good liking, was the Tale of Madame -_Æmillia_ listened unto, and both the prayers commended to be sound and -soveraigne: but it being ended, the King commaunded _Philostratus_, -that hee should follow next in order, whereupon thus he began. - -Deare Ladies, the deceites used by men towards your sexe, but -especially Husbands, have bene so great and many, as when it hath -sometime happened, or yet may, that husbands are requited in the -self-same kinde: you need not finde fault at any such accident, either -by knowledge thereof afterward, or hearing the same reported by any -one; but rather you should referre it to generall publication, to -the end, that immodest men may know, and finde it for trueth, that -if they have apprehension and capacity; women are therein not a jote -inferiour to them. Which cannot but redound to your great benefite, -because, when any one knoweth, that another is as cunning and subtile -as himselfe; he will not be so rashly adventurous in deceite. And who -maketh any doubt, that if those sleights and trickes, whereof this -dayes argument may give us occasion to speake, should afterwardes -be put in execution by men: would it not minister just reason, of -punishing themselves for beguiling you, knowing, that (if you please) -you have the like abilitie in your owne power? Mine intent therefore -is to tell you, what a woman (though but of meane quality) did to her -husband, upon a sodaine, and in a moment (as it were) for her owne -safety. - -Not long since, there lived in _Naples_, an honest meane man, who did -take to Wife, a fayre and lustie young Woman, being named _Peronella_. -He professing the Trade of a Mason, and shee Carding and Spinning, -maintained themselves in a reasonable condition, abating and abounding -as their Fortunes served. It came to passe, that a certayne young -man, well observing the beauty and good parts of _Peronella_, became -much addicted in affection towardes her: and by his often and secret -sollicitations, which he found not to be unkindly entertayned; his -successe proved answerable to his hope, no unindifferencie appearing in -their purposes, but where her estate seemed weakest, his supplies made -an addition of more strength. - -Now, for their securer meeting, to stand cleare from all matter of -scandal or detection, they concluded in this order between themselves. -_Lazaro_, for so was _Peronellaes_ Husband named, being an earely -riser every morning, either to seeke for worke, or to effect it being -undertaken: this amorous friend being therewith acquainted, and -standing in some such convenient place, where hee could see _Lazaroes_ -departure from his house, and yet himselfe no way discerned; poore -_Lazaro_ was no sooner gone, but presently he enters the house, which -stood in a verie solitarie street, called the _Avorio_. Many mornings -had they thus met together, to their no meane delight and contentation, -till one especiall morning among the rest, when _Lazaro_ was gone -forth to worke, and _Striguario_ (so was the amorous young man named) -visiting _Peronella_ in the house: upon a very urgent occasion, -_Lazaro_ returned backe againe, quite contrary to his former wont, -keeping foorth all day, and never comming home till night. - -Finding his doore to be fast lockt, and he having knockt softlie once -or twice, he spake in this manner to himselfe. Fortune I thanke thee, -for albeit thou hast made mee poore, yet thou hast bestowed a better -blessing on me, in matching me with so good, honest, & loving a Wife. -Behold, though I went early out of my house, her selfe hath risen in -the cold to shut the doore, to prevent the entrance of theeves, or -any other that might offend us. _Peronella_ having heard what her -husband sayde, and knowing the manner of his knocke, said fearfully to -_Striguario_. Alas deare friend, what shall wee doe? I am little lesse -then a dead Woman: For, _Lazaro_ my Husband is come backe again, and -I know not what to do or say. He never returned in this order before -now, doubtlesse, hee saw when you entred the doore; and for the safety -of your honour and mine: creepe under this brewing Fat, till I have -opened the doore, to know the reason of his so soone returning. - -_Striguario_ made no delaying of the matter, but got himselfe closelie -under the Fat, and Peronella opening the doore for her husbands -enterance, with a frowning countenance, spake thus unto him. What -meaneth this so early returning home againe this morning? It seemeth, -thou intendest to do nothing to day, having brought backe thy tooles in -thy hands. If such be thine intent, how shall we live? Where shall we -have bread to fill our bellies? Dooest thou thinke, that I will suffer -thee to pawne my gowne, and other poore garments, as heeretofore thou -hast done? I that card and spinne both night and day, till I have worne -the flesh from my fingers; yet all will hardly finde oyle to maintaine -our Lampe. Husband, husband, there is not one neighbour dwelling by us, -but makes a mockerie of me, and tels me plainly, that I may be ashamed -to drudge and moyle as I do; wondering not a little, how I am able to -endure it; and thou returnest home with thy hands in thy hose, as if -thou hadst no worke at all to do this day. - -Having thus spoken, she fell to weeping, and then thus began again. -Poore wretched woman as I am, in an unfortunate houre was I borne, and -in a much worse, when I was made thy Wife. I could have had a proper, -handsome yong man; one, that would have maintained mee brave and -gallantly: but, beast as I was, to forgoe my good, and cast my selfe -away on such a beggar as thou art, and whom none wold have had, but -such an Asse as I. Other women live at hearts ease, and in jollity, -have their amorous friends and loving Paramours, yea, one, two, three -at once, making their husbands looke like a Moone cressent, whereon -they shine Sun-like, with amiable lookes, because they know not how to -helpe it: when I (poore foole) live heere at home a miserable life, not -daring once to dreame of such follies, an innocent soule, heartlesse -and harmelesse. - -Many times, sitting and sighing to my selfe: Lord, thinke I, of what -mettall am I made? Why should not I have a Friend in a corner, as -well as others have? I am flesh and blood, as they are, not made of -brasse or iron, and therefore subject to womens frailty. I would thou -shouldest know it husband, and I tell it thee in good earnest; That if -I would doe ill, I could quickely finde a friend at a neede. Gallants -there are good store, who (of my knowledge) love me dearely, and have -made me very large and liberall promises, of Golde, Silver, Jewels, and -gay Garments, if I would extend them the least favour. But my heart -will not suffer me, I never was the daughter of such a mother, as had -so much as a thought of such matters: no, I thanke our blessed Ladie, -and S. _Friswid_ for it: and yet thou returnest home againe, when thou -shouldst be at Worke. - -_Lazaro_, who stoode all this while like a well-beleeving Logger-head, -demurely thus answered. Alas good Wife! I pray you bee not so angry, I -never had so much as an ill thought of you, but know wel enough what -you are, and have made good proofe thereof this morning. Understand -therefore patiently (sweet Wife) that I went forth to my work as -dayly I use to do, little dreaming (as I thinke you doe not) that it -had bene Holy-day. Wife, this is the Feast day of Saint _Galeone_; -whereon we may in no wise worke, and this is the reason of my so soone -returning. Neverthelesse (deare Wife) I was not carelesse of our -Houshold provision: For, though we worke not, yet we must have foode, -which I have provided for more then a moneth. Wife, I remembred the -brewing Fat, whereof wee have little or no use at all, but rather it is -a trouble to the house, then otherwise. I met with an honest Friend, -who stayeth without at the doore, to him I have sold the Fat for ten -_Gigliatoes_, and he tarrieth to take it away with him. - -How Husband? replied _Peronella_, Why now I am worse offended then -before. Thou that art a man, walkest every where, and shouldst be -experienced in worldly affaires: wouldst thou bee so simple, as to -sell such a brewing Fat for ten _Gigliatoes_? Why, I that am a poore -ignorant woman, a house-Dove, sildome going out of my doore: have sold -it already for twelve _Gigliatoes_, to a very honest man, who (even a -little before thy comming home) came to me, we agreed on the bargaine, -and he is now underneath the Fat, to see whether it be sound or no. -When credulous _Lazaro_ heard this, he was better contented then ever, -and went to him that taried at the doore, saying. Good man, you may goe -your way, for, whereas you offered me but ten _Gigliatoes_ for the Fat, -my loving wife hath sold it for twelve, and I must maintaine what shee -hath done: so the man departed, and the variance ended. - -_Peronella_ then saide to her husband. Seeing thou art come home so -luckily, helpe me to lift up the Fat, that the man may come foorth, and -then you two end the bargaine together. _Striguario_, who though he was -mewed up under the tubbe, had his eares open enough; and hearing the -witty excuse of _Peronella_, tooke himselfe free from future feare: -and being come from under the Fat, pretending also, as if he had herd -nothing, nor saw _Lazaro_, looking round about him, said. Where is this -good woman? _Lazaro_ stepping forth boldly like a man, replyed: Heere -am I, what wold you have Sir? Thou? quoth _Striguario_, what art thou? -I ask for the good wife, with whom I made my match for the Fat. Honest -Gentleman (answered _Lazaro_) I am that honest Womans Husband, for -lacke of a better, and I will maintaine whatsoever my Wife hath done. - -I crie you mercie Sir, replyed _Striguario_, I bargained with your Wife -for this brewing Fat, which I finde to be whole and sound: only it is -uncleane within, hard crusted with some dry soile upon it, which I know -not well how to get off, if you will be the meanes of making it cleane, -I have the money heere ready for it. For that Sir (quoth _Peronella_) -take you no care, although no match at all had beene made, what serves -my Husband for, but to make it cleane? Yes forsooth Sir, answered sily -_Lazaro_, you shall have it neate and cleane before you pay the mony. - -So, stripping himselfe into his shirt, lighting a Candle, and taking -tooles fit for the purpose; the Fat was whelmed over him, and he being -within it, wrought untill he sweated, with scraping and scrubbing. So -that these poore Lovers, what they could not accomplish as they wold, -necessity enforced them to performe as they might. And _Peronella_, -looking in at the vent-hole, where the Liquor runneth forth for the -meshing; seemed to instruct her husband in the businesse, as espying -those parts where the Fat was fowlest, saying: There, there _Lazaro_, -tickle it there, the Gentleman payes well for it, and is worthy to have -it: but see thou do thy selfe no harme good Husband. I warrant thee -Wife, answered _Lazaro_, hurt not your selfe with leaning your stomacke -on the Fat, and leave the cleansing of it to me. To be breefe, the -Brewing Fat was neatly cleansed, _Peronella_ and _Striguario_ both well -pleased, the money paide, and honest meaning _Lazaro_ not discontented. - - - - -_Friar_ Reynard, _falling in love with a Gentlewoman, Wife to a man -of good account; found the meanes to become her Gossip. Afterward, -he being conferring closely with her in her Chamber, and her Husband -coming sodainly thither: she made him beleeve, that he came thither for -no other end; but to cure his God-sonne by a charme, of a dangerous -disease which he had by Wormes._ - -The Third Novell. - -_Serving as a friendly advertisement to married women, that Monks, -Friars, and Priests may be none of their Gossips, in regard of -unavoydable perilles ensuing thereby._ - -_Philostratus_ told not this Tale so covertly, concerning _Lazaros_ -simplicity, and _Peronellaes_ witty policy; but the Ladies found a -knot in the rush, and laughed not a little, at his queint manner of -discoursing it. But upon the conclusion, the King looking upon Madam -_Eliza_, willed her to succeede next, which as willingly she granted, -and thus began. Pleasant Ladies, the charme or conjuration wherewith -Madam _Æmillia_ laid her night-walking Spirit, maketh me remember -a Novell of another enchantment; which although it carrieth not -commendation equall to the other, yet I intend to report it, because it -suteth with our present purpose, and I cannot sodainly be furnisht with -another, answerable thereto in nature. - -You are to understand then, that there lived in _Siena_, a proper yong -man, of good birth and well friended, being named _Reynard_. Earnestly -he affected his neere dwelling neighbour, a beautifull Gentlewoman, -and wife to a man of good esteeme: of whom hee grew halfe perswaded, -that if he could (without suspition) compasse private conference with -her, he should reach the height of his amorous desires. Yet seeing no -likely meanes wherewith to further his hope, and shee being great with -childe, he resolved to become a Godfather to the childe, at such time -as it should be brought to Christening. And being inwardly acquainted -with her Husband, who was named _Credulano_; such familiar entercourses -passed betweene them, both of _Reynards_ kinde offer, and _Credulanoes_ -as courteous acceptance, that hee was set downe for a Gossippe. - -_Reynard_ being thus embraced for Madam _Agnesiaes_ Gossip, and this -proving the onely colourable meanes, for his safer permission of -speech with her, to let her now understand by word of mouth, what long -before she collected by his lookes and behaviour: it fell out no way -beneficiall to him, albeit _Agnesia_ seemed not nice or scrupulous -in hearing, yet she had a more precious care of her honor. It came -to passe, within a while after (whether by seeing his labour vainly -spent, or some other urgent occasion moving him thereto, I know not) -_Reynard_ would needs enter into Religion, and whatsoever strictnesse -or austeritie hee found to be in that kinde of life, yet he determined -to persevere therein, whether it were for his good or ill. And although -within a short space, after he was thus become a Religious Monke, hee -seemed to forget the former love which he bare to his gossip _Agnesia_, -and divers other enormous vanities beside: yet let me tell you, -successe of time tutord him in them againe; and, without any respect -to his poore holy habite, but rather in contempt thereof (as it were) -he tooke an especiall delight, in wearing garments of much richer -esteeme, yet favoured by the same Monasticall profession, appearing -(in all respects) like a Court-Minion or Favourite, of a sprightly and -Poeticall disposition, for composing Verses, Sonnets, and Canzons, -singing them to sundry excellent instruments, and yet not greatly -curious of his company, so they were some of the best, and Madame -_Agnesia_ one, his former Gossip. - -But why doe I trouble my selfe, in talking thus of our so lately -converted Friar, holy Father _Reynard_, when they of longer standing, -and reputed meerely for Saints in life, are rather much more vile -then hee? Such is the wretched condition of this world, that they -shame not (fat, soggie, and nastie Abbey-lubbers) to shew how full -fedde they live in their Cloysters, with cherry cheekes, and smooth -shining lookes, gay and gaudy garments, far from the least expression -of humility, not walking in the streets like Doves: but high-crested -like Cockes, with well cramd gorges. Nay, which is worse, if you did -but see their Chambers furnished with Gally-pots of Electuaries, -precious Unguents, Apothecary Boxes, filled with various Confections, -Conserves, excellent Perfumes, and other goodly Glasses of artificiall -Oyles and Waters: beside Rundlets and small Barrels full of Greeke -Wine, _Muscatella, Lachrime Christi,_ and other such like most precious -Wines, so that (to such as see them) they seeme not to bee Chambers -of Religious men; but rather Apothecaries Shoppes, or appertaining to -Druggists, Grocers, or Perfumers. - -It is no disgrace to them to be Gowty; because when other men -know it not, they alledge, that strict fasting, feeding on grosse -meates (though never so little,) continuall studying, and such like -restraints from the bodies freer exercise, maketh them subject to -many infirmities. And yet, when any one of them chanceth to fall -sicke, the Physitian must minister no such counsell to them, as -Chastity, Abstinence from voluptuous meats, Discipline of the body, -or any of those matters appertaining to a modest religious life. -For, concerning the plaine, vulgar, and Plebeian people, these holy -Fathers are perswaded, that they know nothing really belonging to a -sanctimonious life; as long watching, praying, discipline and fasting, -which (in themselves) are not able, to make men look leane, wretched, -and pale. Because Saint _Dominicke_, Saint _Fraunces_, and divers -other holy Saints beside, observed the selfesame religious orders -and constitutions, as now their carefull successors do. Moreover, in -example of those fore-named Saints, who went wel cloathed, though -they had not three Garments for one, nor made of the finest Woollen -excellent cloath: but rather of the very coarsest of all other, and of -the common ordinary colour, to expell cold onely, but not to appear -brave or gallant, deceyving thereby infinite simple credulous soules, -whose purses (neverthelesse) are their best pay-masters. - -But leave we this, and returne wee backe to vertuous Fryar _Reynard_, -who falling againe to his former appetites; became an often visitant -of his Gossip _Agnesia_, and now hee had learned such a blushlesse -kinde of boldnesse; that he durst be more instant with her (concerning -his privie sute) then ever formerly he had bin, yea, even to solicite -the enjoying of his immodest desires. The good Gentlewoman, seeing -her selfe so importunately pursued, and Fryar _Reynard_ appearing -now (perhappes) of sweeter and more delicate complexion, then at his -entrance into Religion: at a set time of his secret communing with -her; she answered him in as apt tearmes, as they use to do, who are not -greatly squeamish, in granting matters demanded of them. - -Why how now Friar _Reynard_? quoth shee, Doe God-fathers use to move -such questions? Whereto the Friar thus replyed. Madam, when I have -laide off this holy habite (which is a matter very easie for mee to -do) I shall seeme in your eye, in all respects made like another man, -quite from the course of any Religious life. _Agnesia_, biting the lip -with a prety smile, said, O my faire Starres! You will never bee so -unfriendly to me. What? You being my Gossip, would you have me consent -unto such a sinne? Our blessed Lady shield mee, for my ghostly Father -hath often told me, that it is utterly unpardonable: but if it were, -I feare too much confiding on mine owne strength. Gossip, Gossip, -answered the Friar, you speake like a Foole, and feare (in this case) -is wholly frivolous, especially, when the motions mooved by such an one -as my selfe, who (upon repentance) can grant you pardon and indulgence -presently. But I pray you let mee aske you one question, Who is the -neerest Kinsman to your Son; either I, that stood at the Font for his -Baptisme, or your Husband that begot him? The Lady made answere, that -it was her Husband. You say very true Gossip, replyed the Friar, and -yet notwithstanding, doth not your Husband (both at boord and bed) -enjoy the sweet benefit of your company? Yes, said the Lady, why shold -he not? Then Lady (quoth _Reynard_) I, who am not so neere a Kinsman -to your Sonne, as your Husband is, why may ye not afford mee the like -favour, as you do him? _Agnesia_, who was no Logitian, and therefore -could not stand on any curious answer, especially being so cuningly -moved; beleeved, or rather made shew of beleeving, that the Godfather -said nothing but truth, and thus answered. What woman is she (Gossip) -that knoweth how to answer your strange speeches? And, how it came to -passe, I know not, but such an agreement passed betweene them, that, -for once onely (so it might not infrindge the league of Gossip-ship, -but that title to countenance their further intent) such a favour -should be affoorded, so it might stand cleare from suspition. - -An especiall time being appointed, when this amorous Combate should be -fought in loves field, Friar _Reynard_ came to his Gossips house, where -none being present to hinder his purpose, but onely the Nursse which -attended on the child, who was an indifferent faire & proper woman: -his holy brother that came thither in his company (because Friars were -not allowed to walke alone) was sent aside with her into the Pigeon -loft, to enstruct her in a new kinde of _Pater noster_, lately devised -in their holy Convent. In the meane while, as Friar _Reynard_ and -_Agnesia_ were entring into hir chamber, she leading her little son by -the hand, and making fast the doore for their better safety: the Friar -laide by his holie habit, Cowle, Hood, Booke, and Beads, to bee (in -all respects) as other men were. No sooner were they thus entred the -Chamber, but her husband _Credulano_, being come into the house, and -unseen of any, staid not till he was at the Chamber doore, where hee -knockt, and called for his Wife. - -She hearing his voice: Alas Gossip (quoth she) what shall I do? My -Husband knocketh at the doore, and now he will perceive the occasion -of our so familiar acquaintance. _Reynard_ being stript into his -Trusse and straite Strouses, began to tremble and quake exceedingly. -I heare your Husbands tongue Gossip, said he, and seeing no harme as -yet hath bin done, if I had but my garments on againe; wee would have -one excuse or other to serve the turne, but till then you may not -open the doore. As womens wits are sildome gadding abroad, when any -necessitie concerneth them at home: even so _Agnesia_, being sodainly -provided of an invention, both how to speake and carry her selfe in -this extreamitie, saide to the Friar. Get on your garments quickely, -and when you are cloathed, take your little God-son in your armes, -and listning wel what I shall say, shape your answeres according to -my words, and then refer the matter to me. _Credulano_ had scarsely -ended his knocking, but _Agnesia_ stepping to the doore said: Husband, -I come to you. So she opened the doore, and (going forth to him) with -a chearefull countenance thus spake. Beleeve me Husband, you could not -have come in a more happy time, for our yong Son was sodainly extreamly -sicke, and (as good Fortune would have it) our loving Gossip _Reynard_ -chanced to come in; and questionlesse, but by his good prayers and -other religious paynes, we had utterly lost our childe, for he had no -life left in him. - -_Credulano_, being as credulous as his name imported, seemed ready -to swoune with sodaine conceit: Alas good wife (quoth he) how hapned -this? Sit downe sweet Husband said she, and I will tell you al. Our -child was sodainly taken with a swouning, wherein I being unskilful, -did verily suppose him to be dead, not knowing what to doe, or say. -By good hap, our Gossip _Reynard_ came in, and taking the childe up -in his armes, said to me. Gossip, this is nothing else but Wormes in -the bellie of the childe, which ascending to the heart, must needs -kill the child, without all question to the contrary. But be of good -comfort Gossip, and feare not, for I can charme them in such sort, that -they shall all die, and before I depart hence, you shall see your Son -as healthfull as ever. And because the manner of this charm is of such -nature, that it required prayer and exorcising in two places at once: -Nurse went up with his Holye Brother into our Pigeon loft, to exercise -their devotion there, while we did the like heere. For none but the -mother of the childe must bee present at such a mystery, nor any enter -to hinder the operation of the charme; which was the reason of making -fast the Chamber doore. You shall see Husband anon the Childe, which is -indifferently recovered in his armes, and if Nurse and his holy Brother -were returned from theyr meditations; he saith, that the charme would -then be fully effected: for the child beginneth to looke chearefull and -merry. - -So deerely did _Credulano_ love the childe, that hee verily beleeved, -what his Wife had saide, never misdoubting any other treachery: and, -lifting up his eyes, with a vehement sigh, said. Wife, may not I goe in -and take the child into my armes? Oh no, not yet good husband (quoth -she) in any case, least you should overthrow all that is done. Stay but -a little while, I will go in againe, and if all bee well, then will I -call you. In went _Agnesia_ againe, making the doore fast after her, -the Fryar having heard all the passed speeches, by this time he was -fitted with his habite, and taking the childe in his armes, he said to -_Agnesia_. Gossip methought I heard your Husbands voice, is hee at your -Chamber doore? Yes Gossip _Reynard_ (quoth _Credulano_ without, while -_Agnesia_ opened the doore, and admitted him entrance) indeede it is -I. Come in Sir, I pray you, replyed the Friar, and heere receive your -childe of mee, who was in great danger, of your ever seeing him any -more alive. But you must take order, to make an Image of waxe, agreeing -with the stature of the childe, to be placed on the Altar before the -Image of S. _Frances_, by whose merites the childe is thus restored to -health. - -The childe, beholding his Father, made signes of comming to him, -rejoycing merrily, as yong infants use to do; and _Credulano_ clasping -him in his armes, wept with conceite of joy, kissing him infinitely, -and heartily thanking his Gossip _Reynard_, for the recovery of his -God-son. The Friars brotherly Companion, who had given sufficient -enstructions to the Nurse, and a small purse full of Sisters white -thred, which a Nunne (after shrift) had bestowed on him, upon the -husbands admittance into the Chamber (which they easily heard) came in -also to them, and seeing all in very good tearmes, they holpe to make -a joyfull conclusion, the Brother saying to Friar Reynard: Brother, I -have finished all those foure Jaculatory prayers, which you commanded -me. - -Brother, answered _Reynard_, you have a better breath then I, and your -successe hath prooved happier then mine, for before the arrivall of -my Gossip _Credulano_, I could accomplish but two Jaculatory prayers -onely. But it appeareth, that we have both prevailed in our devout -desires, because the childe is perfectly cured. _Credulano_ calling for -Wine and good cheare, feasted both the Friars very jocondly, and then -conducting them forth of his house, without any further intermission, -caused the childs Image of waxe to be made, and sent it to be placed on -the Altar of Saint _Frances_, among many other the like oblations. - - - - -Tofano _in the night season, did locke his wife out of his house, and -shee not prevailing to get entrance againe, by all the entreaties she -could possiblie use: made him beleeve that she had throwne her selfe -into a Well, by casting a great stone into the same Well_. Tofano -_hearing the fall of the stone into the Well, and being perswaded that -it was his Wife indeed; came forth of his house, and ran to the Welles -side. In the meane while, his wife gotte into the house, made fast the -doore against her Husband, and gave him many reproachfull speeches._ - -The Fourth Novell. - -_Wherein is manifested, that the malice and subtilty of a Woman, -surpasseth all the Art or Wit in man._ - - -So soone as the King perceyved, that the Novell reported by Madame -_Eliza_ was finished: hee turned himselfe to Madame _Lauretta_, and -told her it was his pleasure, that she should now begin the next, -whereto she yeelded in this manner. O Love: What, and how many are thy -prevailing forces? How straunge are thy foresights? And how admirable -thine attempts? Where is, or ever was the Philosopher or Artist, that -could enstruct the wiles, escapes, preventions, and demonstrations, -which sodainly thou teachest such, as are thy apt and understanding -Schollers indeede? Certaine it is, that the documents and eruditions of -all other whatsoever, are weak, or of no worth, in respect of thine: as -hath notably appeared, by the remonstrances already past, and whereto -(worthy Ladies) I will adde another of a simple woman, who taught her -husband such a lesson, as shee never learned of any, but Love himselfe. - -There dwelt sometime in _Arezzo_ (which is a faire Village of -_Tuscany_) a rich man, named _Tofano_, who enjoyed in marriage a young -beautifull woman, called _Cheta_: of whom (without any occasion given, -or reason knowne to himselfe) he became exceeding jealous. Which his -wife perceyving, she grew much offended thereat, and tooke it in great -scorne, that she should be servile to so vile and slavish a condition. -Oftentimes, she demanded of him, from whence this jealousie in him -received originall, he having never seene or heard of any; he could -make her no other answer, but what his owne bad humour suggested, and -drove him every day (almost) to deaths doore, by feare of that which no -way needed. But, whether as a just scourge for this his grosse folly, -or a secret decree, ordained to him by Fortune and the Fates, I am not -able to distinguish: It came so to passe, that a young Gallant made -meanes to enjoy her favour, and she was so discreetly wise in judging -of his worthinesse; that affection passed so farre mutually betweene -them, as nothing wanted, but effects to answere words, suited with time -and place convenient, for which order was taken as best they might, yet -to stand free from all suspition. - -Among many other evill conditions, very frequent and familiar in her -husband _Tofano_; he tooke a great delight in drinking, which not -only he held to be a commendable quality, but was alwaies so often -solicited thereto: that _Cheta_ her selfe began to like and allow it -in him, feeding his humour so effectually, with quaffing and carowsing, -that (at any time when she listed) she could make him bowsie beyonde -all measure: and leaving him sleeping in this drunkennesse, would -alwayes get her selfe to bed. By helpe heereof, she compassed the first -familiarity with her friend, yea, divers times after, as occasion -served: and so confidently did she builde on her husbands drunkennesse, -that not onely shee adventured to bring her friend home into her owne -house; but also would as often go to his, which was some-what neere at -hand, and abide with him there, the most part of the night season. - -While _Cheta_ thus continued on these amorous courses, it fortuned, -that her slye suspitious husband, beganne to perceive, that though shee -drunke very much with him, yea, untill he was quite spent and gone: -yet she remained fresh and sober still, and thereby imagined strange -matters, that he being fast asleepe, his wife then tooke advantage of -his drowsinesse, and might ---- and so forth. Beeing desirous to make -experience of this his distrust, hee returned home at night (not having -drunke any thing all the whole day) dissembling both by his words and -behaviour, as if he were notoriously drunke indeede. Which his Wife -constantly beleeving, saide to her selfe: That hee had now more neede -of sleepe, then drinke; getting him immediately into his warme bed; and -then going downe the staires againe, softly went out of doores unto her -Friends house, as formerly she had used to do, and there shee remained -untill midnight. - -_Tofano_ perceiving that his Wife came not to bed, and imagining to -have heard his doore both open and shut: arose out of his bed, and -calling his Wife _Cheta_ divers times, without any answere returned: -hee went downe the staires, and finding the doore but closed too, made -it fast and sure on the inside, and then got him up to the window, to -watch the returning home of his wife, from whence shee came, and then -to make her conditions apparantly knowne. So long there he stayed, -till at the last she returned indeede, and finding the doore so surely -shut, shee was exceeding sorrowfull, essaying how she might get it -open by strength: which when _Tofano_ had long suffered her in vaine -to approove, thus hee spake to her. _Cheta, Cheta,_ all thy labour is -meerely lost, because heere is no entrance allowed for thee; therefore -return to the place from whence thou camest, that all thy friends may -judge of thy behaviour, and know what a night-walker thou art become. - -The woman hearing this unpleasing language, began to use all humble -entreaties, desiring him (for charities sake) to open the doore and -admit her entrance, because she had not bin in any such place, as his -jelous suspition might suggest to him: but onely to visit a weak & -sickly neighbour, the nights being long, she not (as yet) capable of -sleepe, nor willing to sit alone in the house. But all her perswasions -served to no purpose, he was so setled in his owne opinion, that all -the Town should now see her nightly gading, which before was not -so much as suspected. _Cheta_ seeing, that faire meanes would not -prevaile, shee entred into roughe speeches and threatnings, saying: If -thou wilt not open the doore and let me come in, I will so shame thee, -as never base man was. As how I pray thee? answered _Tofano_, what -canst thou do to me? - -The woman, whom love had inspired with sprightly counsell, ingeniously -enstructing her what to do in this distresse, stearnly thus replyed. -Before I will suffer any such shame as thou intended towards mee, -I will drowne my selfe heere in this Well before our doore, where -being found dead, and thy villanous jealousie so apparantly knowne, -beside thy more then beastly drunkennesse: all the neighbours will -constantly beleeve, that thou didst first strangle me in the house, -and afterwardes threw me into this Well. So either thou must flie upon -the supposed offence, or lose all thy goodes by banishment, or (which -is much more fitting for thee) have thy head smitten off as a wilfull -murtherer of thy wife; for all will judge it to be no otherwise. -All which wordes, mooved not _Tofano_ a jot from his obstinat -determination: but he still persisting therein, thus she spake. I -neither can nor will longer endure this base Villanie of thine: to the -mercy of heaven I commit my soul, and stand there my wheele, a witnesse -against so hard-hearted a murtherer. - -No sooner had she thus spoke, but the night being so extreamly dark, -as they could not discerne one another; Cheta went to the Well, where -finding a verie great stone, which lay loose upon the brim of the Well, -even as if it had beene layde there on purpose, shee cried out aloud, -saying. Forgive me faire heavens, and so threw the stone downe into the -Well. The night being very still & silent, the fall of the great stone -made such a dreadfull noise in the Well; that he hearing it at the -Windowe, thought verily she had drowned her selfe indeede. Whereupon, -running downe hastily, and taking a Bucket fastened to a strong Cord: -he left the doore wide open, intending speedily to helpe her. But she -standing close at the doores entrance, before he could get to the Wels -side; she was within the house, softly made the doore fast on the -inside, and then went up to the Window, where _Tofano_ before had stood -talking to her. - -While he was thus dragging with his Bucket in the Well, crying and -calling _Cheta_, take hold good _Cheta_, and save thy life: she stood -laughing in the Window, saying. Water should bee put into Wine before a -man drinkes it, and not when he hath drunke too much already. _Tofano_ -hearing his Wife thus to flout him out of his Window, went back to the -doore, and finding it made fast against him: he willed hir to grant him -entrance. But she, forgetting all gentle Language, which formerly she -had used to him: in meere mockery and derision (yet intermixed with -some sighes and teares, which women are saide to have at command) out -aloud (because the Neighbours should heare her) thus she replyed. - -Beastly drunken Knave as thou art, this night thou shalt not come -within these doores, I am no longer able to endure thy base behaviour, -it is more then high time, that thy course of life should bee -publiquely known, and at what drunken houres thou returnest home to thy -house. _Tofano_, being a man of very impatient Nature, was as bitter -unto her in words on the other side, which the Neighbours about them -(both men and Women) hearing; looked forth of their Windowes, and -demaunding a reason for this their disquietnesse, _Cheta_ (seeming as -if she wept) sayde. - -Alas my good Neighbours, you see at what unfitting houres, this bad -man comes home to his house, after hee hath lyen in a Taverne all -day drunke, sleeping and snorting like a Swine. You are my honest -witnesses, how long I have suffered this beastlinesse in him, yet -neyther your good counsell, nor my too often loving admonitions, can -worke that good which wee have expected. Wherefore, to try if shame can -procure any amendment, I have shut him out of doores, until his drunken -fit be over-past, and so he shall stand to coole his feet. - -_Tofano_ (but in very uncivill manner) told her being abroad that night, -and how she had used him: But the Neighbours seeing her to be within -the house, and beleeving her, rather then him, in regard of his too -wellknowne ill qualities; very sharpely reproved him, gave him grosse -speeches, pittying that any honest Woman should be so continually -abused. Now my good Neighbours (quoth she) you see what manner of man -he is. What would you thinke of me, if I should walk the streets thus -in the night time, or be so late out of mine owne house, as this dayly -Drunkard is? I was affraid least you would have given credit to his -dissembling speeches, when he told you, that I was at the Welles side, -and threw something into the Well: but that I know your better opinion -of me, and how sildome I am to be seene out of doores, although he -would induce your sharper judgement of me, and lay that shame upon me, -wherein he hath sinned himselfe. - -The Neighbours, both men and Women, were all very severely incensed -against _Tofano_, condemning him for his great fault that night -committed, and avouching his wife to be vertuous and honest. Within a -little while, the noise passing from Neighbour to Neighbour, at the -length it came to the eares of her Kindred, who forthwith resorted -thither, and hearing how sharpely the Neighbours reprehended _Tofano_: -they tooke him, soundly bastanadoed him, and hardly left any bone -of him unbruised. Afterward, they went into the house, tooke all -such things thence as belonged to hir, taking hir also with them to -their dwelling, and threatning _Tofano_ with further infliction of -punishment, both for his drunkennesse, and causlesse jealousie. - -_Tofano_ perceyving how curstly they had handled him, and what crooked -meanes might further be used against him, in regard her Kindred & -Friends were very mightie: thought it much better, patiently to suffer -the wrong alreadie done him, then by obstinate contending, to proceed -further, and fare worse. He became a suter to her Kindred, that al -might be forgotten and forgiven, in recompence whereof; he would not -onely refraine from drunkennesse, but also, never more be jelous of -his wife. This being faithfully promised, and _Cheta_ reconciled to -her Husband, all strife was ended, she enjoyed her friends favour, as -occasion served, but yet with such discretion, as it was not noted. -Thus the Coxcombe foole, was faine to purchase his peace, after a -notorious wrong sustained, and further injuries to bee offered. - - - - -_A jealous man, clouded with the habite of a Priest, became the -Confessour to his owne Wife; who made him beleeve, that she was deepely -in love with a Priest, which came every night, and lay with her. By -meanes of which confession, while her jealous Husband watched the doore -of his house; to surprize the Priest when he came: she that never meant -to do amisse, had the company of a secret Friend, who came over the -toppe of the house to visite her, while her foolish Husband kept the -doore._ - -The fift Novell. - -_In just scorne and mockery of such jealous Husbands, that will be so -idle headed upon no occasion. And yet when they have good reason for -it, do least of all suspect any such injury._ - - -Madam _Lauretta_ having ended her Novell, and every one commended -the Woman, for fitting _Tofano_ in his kinde; and, as his jealousie -and drunkennesse justly deserved: the King (to prevent all losse of -time) turned to Madame _Fiammetta_, commaunding her to follow next: -whereuppon, very graciously, shee beganne in this manner. - -Noble Ladies, the precedent Novell delivered by Madame _Lauretta_, -maketh me willing to speake of another jealous man; as being halfe -perswaded, that whatsoever is done to them by their Wives, and -especially upon no occasion given, they doe no more then well becommeth -them. And if those grave heads, which were the first instituters of -lawes, had diligently observed all things; I am of the minde, that they -would have ordained no other penalty for Women, then they appointed -against such, as (in their owne defence) do offend any other. For -jealous husbands, are meere insidiators of their Wives lives, and most -diligent pursuers of their deaths, being lockt up in their houses all -the Weeke long, imployed in nothing but domesticke drudging affayres: -which makes them desirous of high Festivall dayes, to receive some -little comfort abroad, by an honest recreation or pastime, as Husbandmen -in the fields, Artizans in our Citie, or Governours in our judiciall -Courtes; yea, or as our Lord himselfe, who rested the seaventh day from -all his travailes. In like manner, it is so willed and ordained by the -Lawes, as well divine as humane, which have regard to the glory of God, -and for the common good of every one; making distinction betweene those -dayes appointed for labour, and the other determined for rest. Whereto -jealous persons (in no case) will give consent, but all those dayes -(which for other women are pleasing and delightfull) unto such, over -whom they command, are most irksome, sadde and sorrowfull, because then -they are lockt up, and very strictly restrained. And if question were -urged, how many good women do live and consume away in this torturing -hel of affliction: I can make no other answere, but such as feele it, -are best able to discover it. Wherefore to conclude the proheme to my -present purpose, let none be over rash in condemning women: for what -they do to their husbands, being jealous without occasion; but rather -commend their wit and providence. - -Somtime (faire Ladies) there lived in _Arimino_, a Merchant, very rich -in wealth and worldly possessions, who having a beautifull Gentlewoman -to his wife, he became extreamly jelous of her. And he had no other -reason for this foolish conceit; but, like as he loved hir dearly, -and found her to be very absolutely faire: even so he imagined, that -althogh she devised by her best meanes to give him content; yet -others would grow enamored of her, because she appeared so amiable -to al. In which respect, time might tutor her to affect some other -beside himselfe: the onely common argument of every bad minded man, -being weake and shallow in his owne understanding. This jelous humour** -increasing in him more and more, he kept her in such narrow restraint: -that many persons condemned to death, have enjoyed larger libertie in -their imprisonment. For, she might not bee present at Feasts, Weddings, -nor goe to Church, or so much as to be seen at her doore: Nay, she -durst not stand in her Window, nor looke out of her house, for any -occasion whatsoever. By means whereof, life seemed most tedious and -offensive to her, and she supported it the more impatiently, because -shee knew her selfe not any way faulty. - -Seeing her husband still persist in this shamefull course towards her; -she studied, how she might best comfort her selfe in this desolate -case: by devising some one meane or other (if any at all were to bee -founde) whereby he might be requited in his kind, and wear that badge -of shame whereof he was now but onely affraid. And because she could -not gain so small a permission, as to be seene at any window, where -(happily) she might have observed some one passing by in the street, -discerning a little parcell of her love: she remembred at length, that, -in the next house to her Husbands (they both joyning close together) -there dwelt a comely yong proper Gentleman, whose perfections carried -correspondencie with her desires. She also considered with her selfe, -that if there were any partition wall; such a chinke or cranny might -easily be made therein, by which (at one time or other) she should -gaine a sight of the young Gentleman, and finde an houre so fitting, -as to conferre with him, and bestow her lovely favour on him, if he -pleased to accept it. If successe (in this case) proved answerable to -her hope, then thus she resolved to outrun the rest of her wearisome -dayes, except the frensie of jealousie did finish her husbands loathed -life before. - -Walking from one roome to another, thorough every part of the house; -and no wall escaping without diligent surveying; on a day, when her -Husband was absent from home, she espyed in a corner very secret, an -indifferent cleft in the Wall, which though it yeelded no full view on -the other side, yet she plainly perceived it to be an handsome Chamber, -and grew more then halfe perswaded, that either it might be the Chamber -of _Philippo_ (for so was the neighbouring yong Gentleman named) or -else a passage guiding thereto. A Chambermaid of hers, who compassioned -her case very much; made such observance, by her Mistresses direction, -that she found it to be _Philippoes_ bed Chamber, and where alwayes he -used to lodge alone. By often visiting this rift or chinke in the Wall, -especially when the Gentleman was there; and by throwing in little -stones, flowers, and such like things, which fell still in his way as -he walked: so farre she prevailed, that he stepping to the chinke, to -know from whence they came; shee called softly to him, who knowing her -voyce, there they had such private conference together, as was not -any way displeasing to either. So that the chinke being made a little -larger; yet so, as it could not be easily discerned: their mouthes -might meete with kisses together, and their hands folded each in other; -but nothing else to be performed, for continuall feare of her jelous -husband. - -Now the Feast of Christmasse drawing neere, the Gentlewoman said to -her Husband; that, if it stood with his liking: she would do such -duty as fitted with so solemne a time, by going earely in a morning -unto Church, there to be confessed, and receive her Saviour, as other -Christians did. How now? replied the jealous Asse, what sinnes have -you committed, that should neede confession? How Husband? quoth she, -what do you thinke me to be a Saint? Who knoweth not, I pray you, that -I am as subject to sinne, as any other Woman living in the world? But -my sins are not to be revealed to you, because you are no Priest. -These words enflamed his jealousie more violently then before, and -needes must he know what sinnes she had committed, & having resolved -what to do in this case, made her answer: That hee was contented with -her motion, alwaies provided, that she went to no other Church, then -unto their owne Chappel, betimes in a morning; and their own Chaplaine -to confesse her, or some other Priest by him appointed, but not any -other: and then she to returne home presently againe. She being a -woman of acute apprehension, presently collected his whole intention: -but seeming to take no knowledge thereof, replyed, that she would not -swerve from his direction. - -When the appointed day was come, she arose very earely, and being -prepared answerable to her owne liking, to the Chappell shee went -as her Husband had appointed, where her jealous Husband (being much -earlier risen than she) attended for her comming: having so ordred the -matter with his Chaplaine, that he was cloathed in his Cowle, with a -large Hood hanging over his eyes, that she should not know him, and -so he went and sate downe in the Confessors place. Shee being entred -into the Chappell, and calling for the Priest to heare her confession, -he made her answer: that he could not intend it, but would bring her -to another holy Brother, who was at better leysure than hee. So to -her Husband he brought her, that seemed (in all respects) like the -Confessor himselfe: save onely his Hood was not so closely veyled, but -shee knew his beard, and said to her selfe. What a mad world is this, -when jealousie can metamorphose an ordinary man into a Priest? But, let -me alone with him, I meane to fit him with that which he lookes for. - -So, appearing to have no knowledge at all of him, downe she fell at -his feete, and he had conveyed a few Cherry stones into his mouth, -to trouble his speech from her knowledge; for, in all things else, he -thought himselfe to be sufficiently fitted for her. In the course of her -confession, she declared, that she was married to a most wicked jealous -Husband, and with whom she lead a very hatefull life. Neverthelesse -(quoth she) I am indifferently even with him, for I am beloved of an -Holie Fryar, that every night commeth and lyeth with me. When the -jealous Husband heard this, it stabbed him like a dagger to the heart, -and, but for this greedy covetous desire to know more; he would faine -have broke off confession, and got him gone. But, perceiving that it -was his wisest course, he questioned further with his wife, saying: Why -good Woman, doth not your husband lodge with you? Yes Sir, quoth she. -How is it possible then (replyed the Husband) that the Friar can lodge -there with you too? - -She, dissembling a farre fetcht sigh, thus answered. Reverend Sir, I -know not what skilfull Art the Fryar useth, but this I am sure, every -doore in our house will flye open to him, so soone as he doth but touch -it. Moreover, he told me, that when he commeth unto my Chamber doore, -he speaketh certaine words to himselfe, which immediately casteth my -Husband into a dead sleepe, and, understanding him to bee thus sleepily -entranced: he openeth the doore, entreth in, lieth downe by me, and -this every night he faileth not to do. The jealous Coxcomb angerly -scratching his head, and wishing his wife halfe hangd, said: Mistresse, -this is very badly done, for you should keepe your selfe from all men, -but your husband onely. That shall I never doe, answered shee, because -(indeed) I love him dearely. Why then (quoth our supposed Confessor) -I cannot give you any absolution. I am the more sorry Sir, said she, I -came not hither to tell you any leasings, for if I could, yet I would -not, because it is not good to fable with such Saint-like men as you -are. You do therein (quoth hee) the better, and surely I am very sorry -for you, because in this dangerous condition, it will bee the utter -losse of your soule: neverthelesse, both for your husbands sake and -your owne, I will take some paines, and use such especiall prayers in -your name, which may (perchance) greatly avayle you. And I purpose now -and then, to send you a Novice or young Clearke of mine, whom you may -safely acquaint with your minde, and signifie to me, by him, whether -they have done you good, or no: and if they prove helpefull, then will -we further proceed therein. Alas Sir, said she, never trouble your -selfe, in sending any body to our house; because, if my Husband should -know it, he is so extreamly jelous, as all the world cannot otherwise -perswade him, but that he commeth thither for no honest intent, and so -I shall live worse then now I do. Fear not that, good woman, quoth he, -but beleeve it certainly, that I will have such a care in this case, as -your Husband shall never speake thereof to you. If you can doe so Sir, -sayde she, proceed I pray you, and I am well contented. - -Confession being thus ended, and she receiving such pennance as hee -appointed, she arose on her feete, and went to heare Masse; while our -jealous Woodcocke (testily puffing and blowing) put off his Religious -habite, returning home presently to his house, beating his braines -al the the way as he went, what meanes he might best devise, for -the taking of his wife and the Friar together, whereby to have them -both severely punished. His wife being come home from the Chappell, -discerned by her Husbands lookes, that he was like to keepe but a -sorry Christmasse: yet he used his utmost industry, to conceale what -he had done, & which she knew as well as himself. And he having fully -resolved, to watch his own street doore the next night ensuing in -person, in expectation of the Friars comming, saide to his Wife. I have -occasion both to suppe and lodge out of my house this night, wherefore -see you the streete doore to be surely made fast on the inside, and the -doore at the middest of the staires, as also your own Chamber doore, -and then (in Gods name) get you to bed. Whereto she answered, that all -should be done as hee had appointed. - -Afterward, when she saw convenient time, she went to the chink in the -Wall, and making such a signe as shee was woont to doe: _Phillippo_ -came thither, to whom she declared all her mornings affayres, & what -directions her husband had given her. Furthermore she saide, certaine -I am, that he will not depart from the house, but sit and watch the -doore without, to take one that comes not heere. If therefore, you can -climbe over the house top, and get in at our gutter Window, you and I -may conferre more familiarly together. The young Gentleman being no -dullard, had his lesson quickly taught him; and when night was come, -_Geloso_ (for so must wee tearme the Cocke-braind husband) armes -himselfe at all points, with a browne Bill in his hand, and so he -sits to watch his owne doore. His Wife had made fast all the doores, -especially that on the midst of the stayres, because he should not (by -any means) come to her Chamber; and so, when the houre served, the -Gentleman adventured over the house top, found the gutter Window, and -the way conducting him to her Chamber, where I leave them to their -further amorous conference. - -_Geloso_, more then halfe mad with anger, first, because hee had -lost his supper: next, having sitten almost all the night (which was -extreamely cold and windie) his Armor much molesting him, and yet he -could see no Friar come: when day drew neere, and hee ashamed to watch -there any longer; conveighed himselfe to some more convenient place, -where putting off his Armes, and seeming to come from the place of -his Lodging; about the ninth houre, he found his doore open, entred -in, & went up the stayres, going to dinner with his Wife. Within a -while after, according as _Geloso_ had ordred the businesse, a youth -came thither, seeming to be the Novice sent from the Confessor, and he -being admitted to speake with her, demanded, whether shee were troubled -or molested that night passed, as formerly she had bin, and whether -the partie came or no? The Woman, who knew well enough the Messenger -(notwithstanding all his formall disguise) made answer: That the party -expected, came not: but if hee had come, it was to no purpose; because -her minde was now otherwise altred, albeit she changed not a jote from -her amorous conclusion. - -What should I now further say unto you? _Geloso_ continued his -watch many nights afterward, as hoping to surprize the Friar at his -entrance, and his wife kept still her contented quarter, according -as opportunitie served. In the conclusion, _Geloso_ being no longer -able to endure his bootlesse watching, nor some (more then ordinary) -pleasing countenance in his wife: one day demaunded of her (with a very -stearne and frowning brow) what secret sinnes shee had revealed to the -ghostly Father, upon the day of her shrift? The Woman replyed, that -she would not tell him, neyther was it a matter reasonable, or lawfull -for her to doe. Wicked Woman, answered _Geloso_: I knowe them all well -enough, even in despight of thee, and every word that thou spakest unto -him. But Huswife, now I must further know, what the Fryar is, with whom -you are so farre in love, and (by meanes of his enchantments) lyeth -with you every night; tell me what and who he is, or else I meane to -cut your throate. - -The Woman immediately made answer, it was not true, that she was in -love with any Fryar. How? quoth _Geloso_, didst thou not thou confesse -so much to the Ghostly Father, the other day when thou wast at shrift? -No Sir, sayde she, but if I did, I am sure he would not disclose it to -you, except hee suffered you to bee there present, which is an Article -beyonde his dutie. But if it were so, then I confesse freely, that I -did say so unto him. Make an end then quickely Wife (quoth _Geloso_) -and tell mee who the Friar is. The Woman fell into a hearty laughter, -saying. It liketh me singularly well, when a wise man will suffer -himselfe to be ledde by a simple Woman, even as a Sheepe is to the -slaughter, and by the hornes. If once thou wast wise, that wisedome -became utterly lost, when thou felst into that divellish frensie of -jealousie, without knowing anie reason for it: for, by this beastlike -and no manly humour, thou hast eclipsed no meane part of my glory, and -womanly reputation. - -Doest thou imagine Husband, that if I were so blinded in the eyes of -my head, as thou art in them which should informe thine understanding; -I could have found out the Priest, that would needs bee my Confessor? -I knew thee Husband to be the man, and therefore I prepared my wit -accordingly, to fit thee with the foolish imagination which thou -soughtest for, and (indeed) gave it thee. For, if thou hadst beene -wise, as thou makest the world to beleeve by outward apparance, thou -wouldest never have expressed such a basenesse of minde, to borrow -the coulour of a sanctified cloake, thereby to undermine the secrets -of thine honest meaning Wife. Wherefore, to feede thee in thy fond -suspition, I was the more free in my Confession, and tolde thee truely, -with whom, and how heinously I had transgressed. Did I not tell thee, -that I loved a Fryar? And art not thou he whom I love, being a Fryar, -and my ghostly Father, though (to thine owne shame) thou madst thy -selfe so? I said moreover, that there is not any doore in our house, -that can keepe it selfe shut against him, but (when he pleaseth) he -comes and lies with me. Now tell me Husband, What doore in our house -hath (at any time) bin shut against thee, but they are freely thine -owne, & grant thee entrance? Thou art the same Friar that confest me, -and lieth every night with me, and so often as thou sentst thy yong -Novice or Clearke to me, as often did I truly returne thee word, when -the same Fryar lay with me. But (by jealousie) thou hast so lost thine -understanding, that thou wilt hardly beleeve all this. - -Alas good man, like an armed Watchman, thou satst at thine owne doore -all a cold Winters night, perswading mee (poore silly credulous woman) -that, upon urgent occasions, thou must needs suppe and lodge from -home. Remember thy selfe therefore better heereafter, become a true -understanding man, as thou shouldst bee, and make not thy selfe a -mocking stocke to them, who knoweth thy jealous qualities, as well as -I do, and be not so watchfull over me, as thou art. For I sweare by my -true honesty, that if I were but as willing, as thou art suspitious: I -could deceive thee, if thou hadst an hundred eyes, as Nature affords -thee but two, and have my pleasures freely, yet thou be not a jot the -wiser, or my credit any way impaired. - -Our wonderfull wise _Geloso_, who (very advisedly considred) that he -had wholly heard his wives secret confession, and dreamed now on no -other doubt beside, but (perceiving by her speeches) how hee was become -a scorne to al men: without returning other answer, confirmed his wife -to bee both wise and honest, and now when he hadde just occasion to -be jealous indeede, hee utterly forsware it, and counted them all -Coxcombes that would be so misguided. Wherefore, she having thus wisely -wonne the way to her owne desires, and he reduced into a more humane -temper: I hope there was no more neede, of clambring over houses in the -night time like Cats, nor walking in at gutter Windowes, but all abuses -were honestly reformed. - - - - -_Madame_ Isabella, _delighting in the company of her affected -Friend, named_ Lionello, _and she being likewise beloved by_ Signior -Lambertuccio: _At the same time as shee had entertained_ Lionello, -_shee was also visited by_ Lambertuccio. _Her Husband returning home in -the very instant: shee caused_ Lambertuccio _to run forth with a drawne -sword in his hand, and (by that meanes) made an excuse sufficient for_ -Lionello _to her husband._ - -The Sixth Novell. - -_Wherein is manifestly discerned, that if Love be driven to a narrow -straite in any of his attempts, yet hee can accomplish his purpose by -some other supply._ - - -Wondrously pleasing to all the company, was the reported Novell of -Madame _Fiammetta_, every one applauding the Womans wisedome, and that -she had done no more, then as the jealous foole her husband justly -deserved. But shee having ended, the King gave order unto Madame -_Pampinea_, that now it was her turne to speake, whereupon, thus she -began. There are no meane store of people who say (though very false -and foolishly,) that Love maketh many to be out of their wits, and that -such as fall in Love, do utterly loose their understanding. To mee -this appeareth a very ydle opinion, as already hath beene approved by -the related discourses, and shall also bee made manifest by another of -mine owne. - -In our City of _Florence_, famous for some good, though as many -bad qualities, there dwelt (not long since) a Gentlewoman, endued -with choice beauty and admirable perfections, being wife to Signior -_Beltramo_, a very valiant Knight, and a man of great possessions. As -oftentimes it commeth to passe, that a man cannot alwayes feede on -one kind of bread, but his appetite will be longing after change: so -fared it with this Lady, named _Isabella_, she being not satisfied -with the delights of her Husband; grew enamoured of a young Gentleman, -called _Lionello_, compleate of person and commendable qualities, -albeit not of the fairest fortunes, yet his affection every way -sutable to hers. And full well you know (faire Ladies) that where the -mindes irreciprocally accorded, no dilligence wanteth for the desires -execution: so this amorous couple, made many solemne protestations, -untill they should bee friended by opportunity. - -It fortuned in the time of their hopefull expectation a Knight, named -Signior _Lambertuccio_, fell likewise in love with _Isabella_: but -because he was somewhat unsightly of person, and utterly unpleasing -in the eye, she grew regardlesse of his frequent solicitings, and -would not accept either tokens, or letters. Which when hee saw, (being -very rich and of great power) hee sought to compasse his intent by -a contrary course, threatning her with scandall and disgrace to her -reputation, and with his associates to bandie against her best friends. -She knowing what manner of man he was, and how able to abuse any with -infamous imputations, wisely returned him hopefull promises, though -never meaning to performe any, but onely (Lady-like) to flatter and -foole him therewith. - -Some few miles distant from _Florence, Beltramo_ had a Castle of -pleasure, and there his Lady _Isabella_ used to live all Summer, as -all other doe the like, being so possessed. On a day, _Beltramo_ being -ridden from home, and she having sent for _Lionello_, to take the -advantage of her Husbands absence; accordingly he went, not doubting -but to winne what he had long expected. Signior _Lambertuccio_ on the -other side, meeting _Beltramo_ riding from his Castle, and _Isabella_ -now fit to enjoy his company: gallops thither with all possible speede, -because hee would bee no longer delayed. Scarcely was _Lionello_ -entred the Castle, and receiving directions by the waiting woman, to -her Ladies Chamber: but _Lambertuccio_ gallopped in at the Gate, which -the woman perceiving, ranne presently and acquainted her Lady with the -comming of _Lambertuccio_. - -Now was shee the onely sorrowfull woman of the world; for nothing was -now to bee feared, but stormes and tempests, because _Lambertuccio_, -spake no other, then Lightning and Thunder, and _Lionello_, (being no -lesse affraide then shee) by her perswasion crept behind the bed, -where he hid himselfe very contentedly. By this time _Lambertuccio_ was -dismounted from his Courser, which he fastened (by the bridle) to a -ring in the wall, and then the waiting woman came to him, to guide him -to her Lady and Mistresse: who stood ready at the staires head, graced -him with a very acceptable welcome, yet marvelling much at his so -sodaine comming. Lady (quoth he) I met your Husband upon the way, which -granting mine accesse to see you; I come to claime your long delayed -promise, the time being now so favourable for it. - -Before he had uttered halfe these words, _Beltramo_, having forgot -an especiall evidence in his Study, which was the onely occasion of -his journey, came gallopping backe againe into the Castell Court, -and seeing such a goodly Gelding stand fastened there, could not -redily imagine who was the owner thereof. The waiting woman, upon -the sight of her Masters entring into the Court, came to her Lady, -saying: My Master _Beltramo_ is returned backe, newly alighted, and -(questionlesse) comming up the staires. Now was our Lady _Isabella_, -ten times worse affrighted then before, (having two severall amourous -suters in her house, both hoping, neither speeding, yet her credite -lying at the stake for either) by this unexpected returne of her -Husband. Moreover, there was no possible meanes, for the concealing of -Signior _Lambertuccio_, because his Gelding stood in the open Court, -and therefore made a shrewde presumption against her, upon the least -doubtfull question urged. - -Neverthelesse, as womens wits are alwayes best upon sudden constraints, -looking forth of her window, and espying her Husband preparing to come -up: she threw her selfe on her day Couch, speaking thus (earnestly) -to _Lambertuccio_. Sir, if ever you loved mee, and would have me -faithfully to beleeve it, by the instant safety both of your owne -honour, and my life, doe but as I advise you. Forth draw your Sword, -and, with a stearne countenance, threatning death and destruction: run -downe the staires, and when you are beneath, say. I sweare by my best -fortunes, although I misse of thee now heere, yet I will be sure to -finde thee some where else. And if my Husband offer to stay you, or -moove any question to you: make no other answere, but what you formerly -spake in fury. Beside, so soone as you are mounted on horsebacke, -have no further conference with him, upon any occasion whatsoever; to -prevent all suspition in him, of our future intendments. - -_Lambertuccio_ sware many terrible oathes, to observe her directions -in every part, and having drawne forth his Sword, grasping it naked in -his hand, and setting worse lookes one the businesse, then ever nature -gave him, because he had spent so much labour in vaine; he failed not -in a jot of the Ladies injunction. _Beltramo_ having commanded his -horse to safe custody, and meeting _Lambertuccio_ discending downe the -staires, so armed, swearing, and most extreamely storming, wondring -extraordinarily as his threatning words, made offer to imbrace him, -and understand the reason of his distemper. _Lambertuccio_ repulsing -him rudely, and setting foote in the stirrup, mounted on his Gelding, -and spake nothing else but this. I sweare by the fairest of all my -fortunes, although I misse of thee heere: yet I will be sure to find -thee some where else, and so he gallopped mainely away. - -When _Beltramo_ was come up into his wives Chamber, hee found her cast -downe upon her Couch, weeping, full of feare, and greatly discomforted; -wherefore he said unto her, What is hee that Signior _Lambertuccio_ -is so extreamely offended withall, and threatneth in such implacable -manner? The Lady arising from her Couch, and going neere to the Beds, -because _Lionello_ might the better heare her; returned her Husband -this answere. Husband (quoth she) never was I so dreadfully affrighted -till now; for, a young Gentleman, of whence, or what he is, I know -not, came running into our Castle for rescue, being pursued by Signior -_Lambertuccio_; with a weapon ready drawne in his hand. Ascending up -our stayres, by what fortune, I know not, he found my chamber doore -standing open, finding me also working on my Sampler, and in wonderfull -feare and trembling. - -Good Madame (quoth hee) for Gods sake helpe to save my life, or else -I shall be slaine heere in your Chamber. Hearing his pittious cry, -and compassionating his desperate case; I arose from my worke, and -in my demaunding of whence, and what he was, that durst presume so -boldly into my bed-chamber: presently came up Signior _Lambertuccio_ -also, in the same uncivill sorte, as before I tolde you, swaggering -and swearing, where is this traiterous villaine? Heereupon, I stept -(somewhat stoutly) to my Chamber doore, and as hee offered to enter, -with a womans courage I resisted him, which made him so much enraged -against mee, that when hee saw mee to debarre his entrance; after many -terrible and vile oathes and vowes, hee ranne downe the stayres againe, -in such like manner as you chaunced to meete him. - -Now trust mee deare wife (said _Beltramo_) you behaved your selfe very -well and worthily: for, it would have beene a most notorious scandall -to us, if a man should bee slaine in your bed-chamber: and Signior -_Lambertuccio_ carryed himselfe most dishonestly, to pursue any man so -outragiously, having taken my Castle as his Sanctuary. But alas wife, -what is become of the poore affrighted Gentleman? Introth Sir (quoth -she) I know not, but (somewhere or other) heereabout hee is hidden. -Where art thou honest friend? said plaine meaning _Beltramo_; Come -forth and feare not, for thine enemy is gone. - -_Lionello_, who had heard all the fore-passed discourse, which shee had -delivered to her Husband _Beltramo_, came creeping forth amazedly (as -one now very fearefully affrighted indeede) from under the further side -of the bedde, and _Beltramo_ saide to him, What a quarrell was this, -between thee and furious _Lambertuccio_? Not any at all Sir, replyed -_Lionello_, to my knowledge, which verily perswadeth me; that either -he is not well in his wits, or else he mistaketh me for some other; -because, so soone as he saw me on the way, somewhat neere to this your -Castle, he drew forth his Sword, and swearing an horrible oath, said. -Traitor thou art a dead man. Upon these rough words, I stayed not to -question the occasion of mine offending him: but fled from him so fast -as possibly I could; but confesse my selfe (indeede) over-bold, by -presuming into your Ladies bed chamber, which yet (equalled with her -mercie) hath bin the onely meanes at this time, of saving my life. - -She hath done like a good Lady, answered _Beltramo_, and I do verie -much commend her for it. But, recollect thy dismayed spirits together, -for I will see thee safely secured hence, afterward, looke to thy -selfe so well as thou canst. Dinner being immediately made ready, -and they having merrily feasted together: he bestowed a good Gelding -on _Lionello_, and rode along with him to _Florence_, where he left -him quietly in his owne lodging. The selfe-same Evening (according -as _Isabella_ had given enstruction) _Lionello_ conferred with -_Lambertuccio_: and such an agreement passed betweene them, that though -some rough speeches were noised abroad, to set the better colour on -the businesse; yet al matters were so cleanly carried, that _Beltramo_ -never knew this queint deceitfull policy of his Wife. - - - - -Lodovico _discovered to his Mistresse Madame_ Beatrix, _how amorously -he was affected to her. She cunningly sent_ Egano _her Husband into -his garden, in all respects disguised like herselfe, while (friendly)_ -Lodovico _conferred with her in the meane while. Afterward,_ Lodovico -_pretending a lascivious allurement of his Mistresse, thereby to wrong -his honest Master, insted of her, beateth_ Egano _soundly in the -Garden._ - -The Seventh Novell. - -_Whereby is declared, that such as keepe many honest seeming servants, -may sometime finde a knave among them, and one that proves to be -over-sawcy with his Master._ - - -This so sodaine dexterity of wit in _Isabella_, related in verie modest -manner by Madame _Pampinea_, was not onely admired by all the company; -but likewise passed with as generall approbation. But yet Madam -_Philomena_ (whom the King had commanded next to succeede) peremptorily -sayde. Worthy Ladies, if I am not deceived; I intend to tell you -another Tale presently; as much to be commended as the last. - -You are to understand then, that it is no long while since, when there -dwelt in _Paris_ a _Florentine_ Gentleman, who falling into decay of -his estate, by over-bountifull expences; undertooke the degree of a -Merchant, and thrived so well by his trading, that he grew to great -wealth, having one onely sonne by his wife, named _Lodovico_. This -Sonne, partaking somewhat in his Fathers former height of minde, and -no way inclineable to deale in Merchandize, had no meaning to be a -Shop-man, and therefore accompanied the Gentlemen of _France_, in -sundry services for the King; among whom, by his singular good carriage -and qualities, he happened to be not meanly esteemed. While thus he -continued in the Court, it chanced, that certaine Knights, returning -from _Jerusalem_, having there visited the holy Sepulcher, and comming -into company where _Lodovico_ was: much familiar discourse passed -amongst them, concerning the faire women of _France, England,_ and -other parts of the world where they had bin, and what delicate beauties -they had seene. - -One in the company constantly avouched, that of all the Women by -them so generally observed, there was not any comparable to the Wife -of _Egano de Galluzzi_, dwelling in _Bologna_, and her name Madam -_Beatrix_, reputed to be the onely faire woman of the world. Many of -the rest maintained as much, having bin at _Bologna_, and likewise -seene her. _Lodovico_ hearing the woman to be so highly commended, -and never (as yet) feeling any thought of amorous inclination; became -sodainely toucht with an earnest desire of seeing her, and his minde -could entertaine no other matter, but onely of travailing thither to -see her, yea, and to continue there, if occasion so served. The reason -for his journey urged to his Father, was to visit _Jerusalem_, and the -holy Sepulcher, which with much difficulty, at length he obtained his -leave. - -Being on his journey towards _Bologna_, by the name of _Anichino_, and -not of _Lodovico_, and being there arrived; upon the day following, -and having understood the place of her abiding: it was his good happe, -to see the Lady at her Window; she appearing in his eye farre more -faire, then all reports had made her to be. Heereupon, his affection -became so enflamed to her, as he vowed, never to depart from _Bologna_, -untill he had obtained her love. And devising by what meanes he might -effect his hopes, he grew perswaded (setting all other attempts aside) -that if he could be entertained into her Husbands service, and undergo -some businesse in the house, time might tutor him to obtaine his -desire. Having given his attendants sufficient allowance, to spare his -company, and take no knowledge of him, selling his Horses also, and -other notices which might discover him: he grew into acquaintance with -the Hoste of the house where he lay, revealing an earnest desire in -himselfe, to serve some Lord or worthy Gentleman, if any were willing to -give him entertainment. - -Now beleeve me Sir (answered the Hoste) you seeme worthy to have a good -service indeede, and I know a Noble Gentleman of this Cittie, who is -named _Egano_: he will (without all question) accept your offer, for -hee keepeth many men of verie good deserving, and you shall have my -furtherance therein so much as may be. As he promised, so he performed, -and taking _Anichino_ with him unto _Egano_: so farre he prevailed by -his friendly protestations, and good opinion of the young Gentleman; -that _Anichino_ was (without more ado) accepted into _Eganoes_ service, -then which, nothing could be more pleasing to him. Now had he the -benefit of dayly beholding his hearts Mistresse, and so acceptable -proved his service to _Egano_, that he grew very farre in love with -him: not undertaking any affayres whatsoever, without the advice and -direction of _Anichino_, so that he reposed his most especiall trust in -him, as a man altogether governed by him. - -It fortuned upon a day, that _Egano_ being ridden to flye his Hawke at -the River, and _Anichino_ remaining behinde at home, Madame _Beatrix_, -who (as yet) had taken no notice of _Anichinoes_ love to her (albeit -her selfe, observing his fine carriage and commendable qualities, was -highly pleased to have so seeming a servant) called him to play at the -Chesse with her: and _Anichino_, coveting nothing more then to content -her, carried himselfe so dexteriously in the game, that he permitted -hir still to win, which was no little joy to her. When all the -Gentle-women, and other friends there present, as spectators to behold -their play, had taken their farewell, and were departed, leaving them -all alone, yet gaming still: _Anichino_ breathing forth an intire sigh, -Madame _Beatrix_ looking merrily on him, said. Tell me _Anichino_, art -not thou angrie, to see me win? It should appeare so by that solemne -sigh. No truly Madame, answered _Anichino_, a matter of farre greater -moment, then losse of infinite games at the Chesse, was the occasion -why I sighed. I pray thee (replyed the Lady) by the love thou bearest -me, as being my Servant (if any love at all remain in thee towards me) -give me a reason for that harty sigh. - -When he heard himselfe so severely conjured, by the love he bare to -her, and loved none else in the world beside: he gave a farre more -hart-sicke sigh, then before. Then his Lady and Mistresse entreated -him seriously, to let her know the cause of those two deepe sighes: -whereto _Anichino_ thus replyed. Madam, if I should tell you, I stand -greatly in feare of offending you: and when I have told you, I doubt -your discovery thereof to some other. Beleeve me _Anichino_ (quoth she) -therein thou neither canst, or shalt offend me. Moreover, assure thy -selfe, that I will never disclose it to any other, except I may do it -with thy consent. Madame (saide hee) seeing you have protested such a -solemne promise to mee, I will reveale no meane secret unto you. - -So, with teares standing in his eyes, he told her what he was; where he -heard the first report of her singular perfections, and instantly became** -enamored of her, as the maine motive of his entring into her service. -Then, most humbly he entreated her, that if it might agree with her -good liking, she would be pleased to commisserate his case; and grace -him with her private favours. Or, if shee might not be so mercifull -to him; that yet she would vouchsafe, to let him live in the lowly -condition as he did, and thinke it a thankefull duty in him, onely to -love her. O singular sweetnesse, naturally living in faire feminine -blood! How justly art thou worthy of praise in the like occasions? Thou -couldst never be wonne by sighes and teares; but hearty imprecations -have alwayes prevailed with thee, making thee apt and easie to amorous -desires. If I had praises answerable to thy great and glorious -deservings, my voice should never faint, nor my pen waxe weary, in the -due and obsequious performance of them. - -Madam _Beatrix_, well observing _Anichino_ when he spake, and giving -credit to his so solemne protestations; they were so powerfull in -prevailing with her, that her senses (in the same manner) were -enchanted; and sighes flew as violently from her, as before he had -vented them: which stormy tempest being a little over-blowne, thus -she spake. _Anichino_, my hearts deere affected Friend, live in hope, -for I tell thee truly, never could gifts, promises, nor any Courtings -used to me by Lords, Knights, Gentlemen, or other (although I have -bin solicited by many) winne the lest grace or favour at my hand, no, -nor move me to any affection. But thou, in a minute of time (compared -with their long and tedious suing) hast expressed such a soveraigne -potency in thy sweet words, that thou hast made me more thine, then -mine owne: and beleeve it unfeinedly, I hold thee to be worthy of my -love. Wherefore, with this kisse I freely give it thee, and make thee a -further promise, that before this night shall be fully past, thou shalt -in better manner perceive it. Adventure into my Chamber about the houre -of midnight, I will leave the doore open: thou knowest, on which side -of the bed I use to rest, come thither and feare not: if I sleep, the -least gentle touch of thy hand will wake me, and then thou shalt see -how much I love thee. So, with a kinde kisse or two, the bargaine was -concluded, she licensing his departure for that time, and he staying -in hope of his hearts happinesse, till when, he thought every houre a -yeare. - -In the meane while, _Egano_ returned home from Hawking, and so soone -as he had supt (being very weary) he went to bed, and his Ladie -likewise with him, leaving her Chamber doore open, according as she had -promised. At the houre appointed, _Anichino_ came, finding the doore -but easily put too, which (being entred) softly he closed againe, in -the same manner as he found it. Going to the beds side where the Lady -lay, and gently touching her brest with his hand, he found her to be -awake, and perceiving he was come according unto promise, shee caught -his hand fast with hers, and held him very strongly. Then, turning -(as she could) towards _Egano_, she made such meanes, as hee awaked, -whereupon she spake unto him as followeth. - -Sir, yesternight I would have had a fewe speeches with you: but, in -regard of your wearinesse and early going to bed, I could not have any -opportunity. Now, this time and place being most convenient, I desire -to bee resolved by you: Among all the men retained into your service; -which of them you do thinke to be the best, most loyall, and worthiest -to enjoy your love? _Egano_ answered thus: Wife, why should you move -such a question to me? Do not you know, that I never had any servant -heeretofore, or ever shall have heereafter, in whom I reposed the like -trust as I have done, and do in _Anichino_? But to what end is this -motion of yours? I will tell you Sir (quoth she) and then be Judge -yourself, whether I have reason to move this question, or no. Mine -opinion every way equalled yours, concerning _Anichino_, & that he -was more just and faithfull to you, then any could be amongest all the -rest: But Husband, like as where the water runneth stillest, the Foord -is deepest, even so, his smooth lookes have beguiled both you and me. -For, no longer agoe, then this verie day, no sooner were you ridden -foorth on Hauking, but he (belike purposely) tarrying at home, watching -such a leysure as best fitted his intent: was not ashamed to solicite -mee, both to abuse your bed, and mine owne spotlesse honor. - -Moreover, he prosecuted his impious purpose with such alluring -perswasions: that being a weake woman, and not willing to endure over -many Amorous proofes (onely to acquaint you with his most sawcie -immodestie, and to revenge your selfe uppon him as best you may; your -selfe beeing best able to pronounce him guiltie) I made him promise, -to meete him in our Garden, presently after midde-night, and to finde -mee sitting under the Pine-Tree, never meaning (as I am vertuous) to -be there. But, that you may know the deceite and falshoode of your -Servant, I would have you to put on my Night-gowne, my head Attire, -and Chinne-cloath, and sitting but a short while there underneath the -Pine-Tree: such is his insatiate desire, as he will not faile to come, -and then you may proceede, as you finde occasion. - -When _Egano_ heard these Words, sodainely hee started out of Bed, -saying. Doe I foster such a Snake in mine owne bosome? Gramercie Wife -for this politicke promise of thine, and beleeve mee, I meane to follow -it effectually. So, on he put his Ladies Night-gown, her formall head -Attire and Chin-cloth, going presently downe into the Garden, to expect -_Anichinoes_ comming to the Pine-Tree. But before the matter grew to -this issue, let me demand of you faire Ladies, in what a lamentable -condition (as you may imagine) was poore _Anichino_; to bee so strongly -detained by her, heare all his amorous suite discovered, and likely -to draw very heavy afflictions on him? Undoubtedly, he looked for -immediate apprehension by _Egano_, imprisonment and publike punishment -for his so malapert presumption: and had it proved so, she had much -renowned her selfe, and dealt with him but as he had justlie deserved. - -But frailtie in our feminine sex is too much prevalent, and makes us -wander from vertuous courses, when we are wel onward in the way to -them. Madam _Beatrix_, whatsoever passed betweene her and _Anichino_, I -know not, but, either to continue this new begunne league for further -time, or, to be revenged on her husbands simplicity, in over-rashlie -giving credit to so smooth a ly; this was her advise to him. _Anichino_ -quoth she, Take a good Cudgell in thy hand, then go into the Garden so -farre as the Pine; and there, as if formerly thou hadst solicited mee -unto this secret meeting, only but by way of approving my honestie: -in my name, revile thy master so bitterly as thou canst, bestowing -manie sound blowes on him with thy cudgell; yet urge the shame still (as -it were) to mee, and never leave him, till thou hast beaten him out -of the garden, to teach him keepe his bed another time. Such an apt -Scholler as _Anichino_ was in this kind, needs no tuturing, but a word -is enough to a ready Wit. To the Garden goes he, with a good willow -cudgell in his hand, and comming neere to the Pine-tree, there he found -_Egano_ disguised like to his Lady, who arising from the place where -he sate, went with chearefull gesture to welcome him; but _Anichino_ -(in rough and stearne manner) thus spake unto him. Wicked, shamelesse, -and most immodest Woman, Art thou come, according to thine unchaste -and lascivious promise? Couldest thou so easily credite, (though I -tempted thee, to trie the vertue of thy continencie) I would offer such -a damnable wrong to my worthy Master, that so deerely loves me, and -reposeth his especiall confidence in me? Thou art much deceived in me, -and shalt finde, that I hate to be false to him. - -So lifting up the Cudgell, he gave him therewith halfe a score good -bastinadoes, laying them on soundly, both on his armes and shoulders: -and _Egano_ feeling the smart of them, durst not speake one Worde, but -fled away from him so fast as hee could, _Anichino_ still following, -and multiplying many other injurious speeches against him, with the -Epithites of Strumpet, lustfull and insatiate Woman. Go thou lewde -beast (quoth he) most unworthy the title of a Lady, or to be Wife unto -so good a natured man, as my Mayster is, to whom I will reveale thy -most ungracious incivility to Morrow, that he may punish thee a little -better then I have done. - -_Egano_ being thus well beaten for his Garden walke, got within the -doore, and so went up to his Chamber againe: his Lady there demanding -of him, whether _Anichino_ came according to his promise, or no? Come? -quoth Egano, Yes Wife, he came, but deerely to my cost: for hee verily -taking me for thee, hath beaten me most extreamly, calling me an -hundred Whores and Strumpets, reputing thee to bee the wickedest Woman -living. In good sadnesse _Beatrix_, I wondred not a little at him, -that he would give thee any such vile speeches, with intent to wrong -mee in mine honour. Questionlesse, because hee saw thee to be joviall -spirited, gracious and affable towardes all men; therefore hee intended -to make triall of thine honest carriage. Well Sir (sayde shee) twas -happy that hee tempted mee with words, and let you taste the proofe -of them by deeds: and let him thinke, that I brooke those words as -distastably, as you do or can, his ill deeds. But seeing he is so just, -faithfull, and loyall to you, you may love him the better, and respect -him as you finde occasion. - -Whereto _Egano_ thus replyed. Now trust me wife, thou hast said very -well: And drawing hence the argument of his setled perswasion; that he -had the chastest Woman living to his wife, and so just a Servant, as -could not be fellowed: there never was any further discoverie of this -Garden-night accident. Perhaps, Madame _Beatrix_ and _Anichino_ might -subtilly smile thereat in secret, in regard that they knew more then -any other else beside did. But, as for honest meaning _Egano_, hee -never had so much as the verie least mistrust of ill dealing, either -in his Lady, or _Anichino_; whom hee loved and esteemed farre more -respectively uppon this proofe of his honestie towards him, then hee -would or could possibly have done, without a triall so playne and -pregnant. - - - - -Arriguccio Berlinghieri, _became immeasurably jelous of his Wife_ -Simonida, _who fastened a thred about her great toe, for to serve as a -signall, when her amorous friend should come to visite her._ Arriguccio -_findeth the fallacie, and while he pursueth the amorous friend, shee -causeth her Maide to lye in her bed against his returne: whom he -beateth extreamly, cutting away the lockes of her haire (thinking he -had doone all this violence to his wife_ Simonida:) _and afterward -fetcheth her Mother & Brethren, to shame her before them, and so be -rid of her. But they finding all his speeches to be utterly false; and -reputing him to bee a drunken jealous foole; all the blame and disgrace -falleth on himselfe._ - -The Eight Novell. - -_Whereby appeareth, that an Husband ought to be very well advised, when -he meaneth to discover any wrong offered his wife; except hee himselfe -do rashly run into all the shame and reproach._ - - -It seemed to the whole assembly, that Madam _Beatrix_, dealte somewhat -strangely, in the manner of beguiling her husband; and affirmed also, -that _Anichino_ had great cause of fear, when she held him so strongly -by her beds side, and related all his amorous temptation. But when the -King perceyved, that Madame _Philomena_ sate silent, he turned to Madam -_Neiphila_, willing her to supply the next place; who modestly smiling, -thus began. - -Faire Ladies, it were an heavy burthen imposed on me, and a matter -much surmounting my capacity, if I should vainely imagine, to content -you with so pleasing a Novell, as those have already done, by you so -singularly reported: neverthelesse, I must discharge my dutie, and take -my fortune as it fals, albeit I hope to finde you mercifull. - -You are to know then, that sometime there lived in our Citie, a -very welthy Merchant, named _Arriguccio Berlinghieri_, who (as many -Merchants have done) fondly imagined, to make himselfe a Gentleman by -marriage. Which that he might the more assuredly do, he took to wife -a Gentlewoman, one much above his degree or element, she being named -_Simonida_. Now, in regard that he delighted (as it is the usuall life -of a Merchant) to be often abroad, and little at home, whereby shee -had small benefit of his company; shee grew very forward in affection -with a young Gentleman, called Signior _Roberto_, who had solicited -hir by many amorous meanes, and (at length) prevailed to win her -favor. Which favour being once obtained; affection gaddes so farre -beyond al discretion, and makes Lovers so heedelesse of their private -conversations: that either they are taken tardy in their folly, or else -subjected to scandalous suspition. - -It came to passe, that _Arriguccio_, either by rumour, or some other -more sensible apprehension, had received such intelligence concerning -his Wife _Simonida_, as he grew into extraordinarie jealousie of -her, refraining travaile abroad, as formerly he was wont to doe, and -ceassing from his verie ordinary affayres, addicting all his care -and endeavour, onely to be watchfull of his Wife; so that he never -durst sleepe, untill she were by him in the bed, which was no meane -molestation to her, being thus curbd from her familiar meetings with -_Roberto_. Neverthelesse, having a long while consulted with her -wittes, to find some apte meanes for conversing with him, being thereto -also very earnestlie still solicited by him; you shall heare what -course she undertooke. - -Her Chamber being on the streete side, and somewhat juttying over it, -she observed the disposition of her Husband, that every night it was -long before he fell asleepe: but beeing once falne into it, no noyse -whatsoever, could easily wake him. This his solemne and sound sleeping, -emboldned her so farre, as to meete with _Roberto_ at the streete -doore, which (while her Husband slept) softly she would open to him, -and there in private converse with him. - -But, because shee would know the certaine houre of his comming, without -the least suspition of any: she hung a thred forth of her Chamber -Window, descending downe, within the compasse of _Robertoes_ reach -in the street, and the other end thereof, guided from the Window to -the bed, being conveyed under the cloathes, and shee being in bed, -she fastned it about her left great Toe, wherewith _Roberto_ was -sufficiently acquainted, and thus enstructed withall; that at his -comming, he should plucke the thred, & if her husband was in his dead -sleep, she would let go the thred, and come downe to him: but if he -slept not, she would hold it strongly, and then his tarrying would -prove but in vaine; there could be no meeting that night. - -This devise was highly pleasing both to _Roberto_ and _Simonida_, being -the intelligencer of their often meeting, and many times also advising -the contrary. But in the end, as the quaintest cunning may faile at one -time or another; so it fortuned one night, that _Simonida_ being in a -sound sleepe, and _Arriguccio_ waking, because his drowsie houre was -not as yet come: as he extended forth his legge in the bed, he found -the thred, which feeling in his hand, and perceiving it was tyed to his -wives great toe; it prooved apt tinder to kindle further Jealousie, -and now hee suspected some treachery indeede, and so much the rather -because the thred guided (under the cloathes) from the bed to the -window, and there hanging downe into the streete, as a warning to some -further businesse. - -Now was _Arriguccio_ so furiously enflamed, that hee must needes bee -further resolved in this apparant doubt: and because therein hee would -not be deceived, softly he cut the thred from his wives toe, and made -it fast about his owne; to trye what successe would ensue thereon. It -was not long before _Roberto_ came, and according as hee used to doe, -hee pluckt the thred, which _Arriguccio_ felt, but because hee had -not tyed it fast, and _Roberto_ pulling it over-hardly, it fell downe -from the window into his hand, which he understood as his lesson, to -attend her comming, and so hee did. _Arriguccio_ stealing softly out -of bed from his wife, and taking his Sword under his arme, went downe -to the doore, to see who it was, with full intent of further revenge. -Now, albeit he was a Merchant, yet he wanted not courage, and boldnesse -of spirit, and opening the doore without any noyse, onely as his wife -was wont to doe: _Roberto_, there waiting his entrance, perceived by -the doores unfashionable opening, that it was not _Simonida_, but her -Husband, whereupon he betooke himselfe to flight, and _Arriguccio_ -fiercely followed him. At the length, _Roberto_ perceiving that flight -avayled him not, because his enemy still pursued him: being armed also -with a Sword, as _Arriguccio_ was; he returned backe upon him, the one -offering to offend, as the other stood upon his defence, and so in the -darke they fought together. - -_Simonida_ awaking, even when her Husband went foorth of the Chamber, -and finding the thred to be cut from her toe; conjectured immediately, -that her subtle cunning was discovered, and supposing her Husband in -pursuite of _Roberto_, presently she arose; and, considering what -was likely to ensue thereon, called her Chamber-maide (who was not -ignorant in the businesse) and by perswasions prevailed so with her, -that she lay downe in her place in the bed, upon solemne protestations -and liberall promises, not to make her selfe knowne, but to suffer all -patiently, either blowes, or other ill usage of her Husband, which -shee would recompence in such bountifull sort, as she should have no -occasion to complaine. So, putting out the watch-light, which every -night burned in the Chamber, she departed thence, and sate downe in -a close corner of the house, to see what would be the end of all this -stirre, after her Husbands comming home. - -The fight (as you have formerly heard) continuing betweene _Roberto_ -and _Arriguccio_, the neighbours hearing of the clashing of their -Swords in the streets; arose out of their beds, and reproved them in -very harsh manner. In which respect _Arriguccio_, fearing to be knowne, -and ignorant also what his adversary was (no harme being as yet done -on either side) permitted him to depart; and extreamely full of anger, -returned backe againe to his house. Being come up into his bed-chamber, -Thus he began; Where is this lewde and wicked woman? what? hast thou -put out the light, because I should not finde thee? that shall not -avayle thee, for I can well enough finde a drab in the darke. So, -groping on to the beds side, and thinking hee had taken hold on his -wife, he grasped the Chamber-maide, so beating her with his fists, and -spurning her with his feet, that all her face was bloody & bruised. -Next, with his knife he cut off a great deal of her haire: giving her -the most villanous speeches as could be devised: swearing, that he -would make her a shame to all the world. - -You need make no doubt, but the poore maide wept exceedingly, as she -had good occasion to doe: and albeit many times she desired mercy, -and that hee would not bee so cruell to her: yet notwithstanding, her -voyce was so broken with crying, and his impacience so extreame, that -rage hindered all power of distinguishing, or knowing his wives tongue -from a strangers. Having thus madly beaten her, and cut the lockes off -from her head, thus he spake to her. Wicked woman, and no wife of mine, -be sure I have not done with thee yet; for, although I meane not now -to beate thee any longer: I will goe to thy brethren, and they shall -understand thy dishonest behaviour. Then will I bring them home with -me, and they perceiving how much thou hast abused both their honour -and thine owne; let them deale with thee as they finde occasion, for -thou art no more a companion for me. No sooner had he uttered these -angry words, but hee went forth of the Chamber, bolting it fast on the -outward side, as meaning to keepe her safely inclosed, & out of the -house he went alone by himselfe. - -_Simonida_, who had heard all this tempestuous conflict, perceiving -that her Husband had lockt the streete doore after him, and was -gone whether he pleased: unbolted the Chamber doore, lighted a waxe -candle, and went in to see her poore maide, whom she found to be most -pittifully misused. She comforted her as well as she could, brought her -into her owne lodging Chamber, where washing her face and hurts in very -soveraigne waters, and rewarding her liberally with _Arriguccioes_ owne -Gold; she held her selfe to bee sufficiently satisfyed. So, leaving the -maide in her lodging, and returning againe to her owne Chamber: she -made up the bed in such former manner, as if no body had lodged therein -that night. Then hanging up her Lampe fresh fild with oyle, and clearly -lighted, she deckt her selfe in so decent sort, as if she had bin in no -bed all that night. - -Then taking sowing worke in her hand, either shirts or bands of her -Husbands; hanging the Lampe by her, and sitting downe at the stayres -head, she fell to worke in very serious manner, as if shee had -undertaken some imposed taske. - -On the other side, _Arriguccio_ had travelled so farre from his -house, till he came at last to the dwelling of _Simonidaes_ brethren: -where hee knockt so soundly, that he was quickely heard, and (almost -as speedily) let in. _Simonidaes_ brethren, and her mother also, -hearing of _Arriguccioes_ comming thither so late. Rose from their -beds, and each of them having a Waxe Candle lighted came presently to -him, to understand the cause of this his so unseasonable visitation. -_Arriguccio_, beginning at the originall of the matter, the thred found -tyed about his wives great toe, the fight and houshold conflict after -following: related every circumstance to them. And for the better -proofe of his words, he shewed them the thred it selfe, the lockes -supposed of his wives haire, and adding withall; that they might now -dispose of _Simonida_ as themselves pleased, because she should remaine -no longer in his house. - -The brethren to _Simonida_ were exceedingly offended at this relation, -in regard they beleeved it for truth, and in this fury, commanded -Torches to be lighted, preparing to part thence with _Arriguccio_ home -to his house, for the more sharpe reprehension of their Sister. Which -when their mother saw, she followed them weeping, first entreating -one, and then the other, not to be over rash in crediting such a -slander, but rather to consider the truth thereof advisedly: because -the Husband might be angry with his Wife upon some other occasion, -and having outraged her, made this the meanes in excuse of himselfe. -Morever she said, that she could not chuse but wonder greatly, how this -matter should thus come to passe; because she had good knowledge of -her daughter, during the whole course of her education, faultlesse and -blamelesse in every degree; with many other good words of her beside, -as proceeding from naturall affection of a mother. - -Being come to the house of _Arriguccio_, entring in, and ascending up -the stayres: they heard _Simonida_ sweetly singing at her working; but -pausing, upon hearing their rude trampling, shee demaunded, who was -there. One of the angry brethren presently answered: Lewde woman as -thou art, thou shalt know soone enough who is heere: Our blessed Lady -be with us (quoth _Simonida_) and sweet Saint Frances helpe to defend -me, who dare use such unseemely speeches? Starting up and meeting them -on the staire head: Kinde brethren, (said she) is it you? What, and -my loving mother too? For sweet Saint Charities sake, what may be the -reason of your comming hither in this manner. Shee being set downe -againe to her worke, so neatly apparelled, without any signe of outrage -offered her, her face unblemished, her haire comely ordered, and -differing wholly from the former speeches of her Husband: the Brethren -marvelled thereat not a little; and asswaging somewhat the impetuous -torrent of their rage; began to demaund in coole blood, (as it were) -from what ground her Husbands complaints proceeded, and threatning her -roughly, if she would not confesse the truth intirely to them. - -Ave Maria (quoth _Simonida_, crossing her selfe) Alas deare Brethren, -I know not what you say, or meane, nor wherein my Husband should bee -offended, or make any complaint at all of me. _Arriguccio_ hearing -this, looked on her like a man that had lost his Senses: for well he -remembred, how many cruell blowes he had given her on the face, beside -scratches of his nailes, and spurnes of his feet, as also the cutting -of her haire, the the least shew of all which misusage, was not now -to be seene. Her brethren likewise briefly told her, the whole effect -of her Husbands speeches, shewing her the thred, and in what cruell -manner he sware hee did beate her. _Simonida_, turning then to her -Husband, and seeming as confounded with amazement, said. How is this -Husband? what doe I heare? would you have me supposed (to your owne -shame and disgrace) to be a bad woman, and your selfe a cruell curst -man, when (on either side) there is no such matter? When were you this -night heere in the house with mee? Or when should you beate mee, and I -not feele nor know it. Beleeve me (sweete heart) all these are meerely -miracles to me. - -Now was _Arriguccio_ ten times more mad in his minde, then before, -saying. Divell, and no woman, did wee not this night goe both together -to bed? Did not I cut this thred from thy great toe, tyed it to mine, -and found the craftie compact betweene thee and thy Minnion? Did not -I follow and fight with him in the streets? Came I not backe againe, -and beate thee as a Strumpet should be? And are not these the locks of -haire, which I my selfe did cut from thy head? - -Alas Sir (quoth she) where have you been? doe you know what you say? -you did not lodge in this house this night, neither did I see you all -the whole day and night, till now. - -But leaving this, and come to the matter now in question, because I -have no other testimony then mine owne words. You say, that you did -beate me, and cut those lockes of haire from my head. Alas Sir, why -should you slander your selfe? In all your life time you did never -strike me. And to approve the truth of my speeches, doe you your selfe, -and all else heere present, looke on me advisedly, if any signe of blow -or beating is to be seene on me. Nor were it an easie matter for you -to doe either to smite, or so much as lay your hand (in anger) on me, -it would cost dearer then you thinke for. And whereas you say, that -you did cut those lockes of haire from my head; it is more then either -I know, or felt, nor are they in colour like to mine: but, because my -Mother and brethren shall be my witnesses therein, and whether you did -it without my knowledge; you shall all see, if they be cut, or no. So, -taking off her head attyre, she displayed her hayre over her shoulders, -which had suffered no violence, neither seemed to bee so much as -uncivilly or rudely handled. - -When the mother and brethren saw this, they began to murmure against -_Arriguccio_, saying, What thinke you of this Sir? you tell us of -strange matters which you have done, and all proving false, we wonder -how you can make good the rest. _Arriguccio_ looked wilde, and -confusedly, striving still to maintaine his accusation: but seeing -every thing to bee flatly against him, he durst not attempt to speake -one word. _Simonida_ tooke advantage of this distraction in him, and -turning to her brethren, saide. I see now the marke whereat he aymeth, -to make me doe what I never meante: Namely, that I should acquaint you -with his vile qualities, and what a wretched life I leade with him, -which seeing hee will needes have me to reveale; beare with me if I doe -it upon compulsion. - -Mother and Brethren, I am verily perswaded, that those accidents which -he disclosed to you, hath doubtlesse (in the same manner) happened to -him, and you shall heare how. Very true it is, that this seeming honest -man, to whom (in a lucklesse houre) you married me, stileth himselfe -by the name of a Merchant, coveting to be so accounted and credited, -as holy in outward appearance, as a Religious Monke, and as demure in -lookes, as the modestest Maide: like a notorious common drunkard, is a -Taverne hunter, where making his luxurius matches, one while with one -Whore, then againe with another; hee causeth mee every night to sit -tarrying for him, even in the same sort as you found me: sometimes till -midnight, and otherwhiles till broad day light in the morning. - -And questionlesse, being in his wounted drunken humour, hee hath lyen -with one of his sweet Consorts, about whose toe he found the thred, and -finding her as false to him, as he hath alwayes been to me: Did not -onely beat her, but also cut the haire from her head. And having not -yet recovered his sences, is verily perswaded, and cannot be altered -from it; but that hee performed all this villany to me. And if you doe -but advisedly observe his countenance, he appeareth yet to be more then -halfe drunke. - -But whatsoever he hath said concerning me, I make no account at all -thereof, because he spake it in his drunkennesse, and as freely as I -forgive him, even so (good Mother and kinde Brethren) let mee entreate -you to do the like. - -When the Mother had heard these words, and confidently beleeved her -Daughter: she began to torment her selfe with anger, saying. By the -faith of my body Daughter, this unkindnesse is not be endured, but -rather let the dogge be hanged, that his qualities may be knowne, he -being utterly unworthy, to have so good a woman to his wife, as thou -art. What could he have done more, if he had taken thee in the open -streete, and in company of some wanton Gallants? In an unfortunate -houre wast thou married to him, base jealous Coxecombe as he is, and it -is quite against sense, or reason, that thou shouldest be subject to -his fooleries. What was hee, but a Merchant of Eale-skinnes or Orenges; -bred in some paltry countrey village; taken from Hogge-rubbing; clothed -in Sheepes-Sattin, with Clownish Startops, Leather stockings, and -Caddies garters: His whole habite not worth three shillings: And yet he -must have a faire Gentlewoman to his Wife, of honest fame, riches and -reputation; when, comparing his pedegree with hers, hee is farre unfit -to wipe her shooes. - -Oh my deare Sonnes, I would you had followed my counsell, and permitted -her to match in the honourable family of _Count Guido_, which was much -mooved, and seriously pursued. But you would needs bestow her on this -goodly Jewell; who, although shee is one of the choysest beauties -in Florence, chaste, honest and truely vertuous: Is not ashamed at -midnight, to proclaime her for a common whore, as if we had no better -knowledge of her. But by the blessed mother of Saint _John_, if you -would be ruled by mine advise; our law should make him dearely smart -for it. - -Alas my sonnes, did I not tell you at home in our owne house, that his -words were no way likely to prove true? Have not your eyes observed his -unmannerly behaviour to your Sister? If I were as you are, hearing what -he hath said, and noting his drunken carriage beside; I should never -give over, as long as he had any life left in him. And were I a man, -as I am a woman; none other then my selfe should revenge her wrongs, -making him a publike spectacle to all drabbing drunkards. - -When the brethren had heard and observed all these occurrences; in -most bitter manner they railed on _Arriguccio_, bestowing some good -bastinadoes on him beside, concluding thus with him in the end. Quoth -one of them, Wee will pardon this shamefull abusing of our Sister, -because thou art a notorious drunkard: but looke to it (on perill of -thy life) that we have no more such newes hereafter; for, beleeve it -unfainedly, if any such impudent rumours happen to our eares, or so -much as a flying fame thereof; thou shalt surely be paide for both -faults together. - -So home againe went they, and _Arriguccio_ stood like one that had -neither life or motion, not knowing (whether what he had done) was -true, or no, or if he dreamed all this while, and so (without uttering -any word) he left his Wife, and went quietly to bed. Thus by her -wisdome, she did not onely prevent an imminent perill: but also made a -free and open passage, to further contentment with her amourous friend, -yet dreadlesse of any distaste or suspition in her Husband. - - - - -Lydia, _a Lady of great beauty, birth, and honor, being wife to_ -Nicostratus, _Governour of_ Argos, _falling in love with a Gentleman, -named_ Pyrrhus; _was requested by him (as a true testimony of her -unfeigned affection) to performe three severall actions of her selfe. -She did accomplish them all, and imbraced and kissed_ Pyrrhus _in the -presence of_ Nicostratus; _by perswading him, that whatsoever he saw, -was meerely false._ - -The Ninth Novell. - -_Wherein is declared, that great Lords may sometime be deceived by -their Wives, as well as men of meaner condition._ - - -The Novell delivered, by Madame _Neiphila_ seemed so pleasing to all -the Ladies; as they could not refraine from hearty laughter, beside -much liberality of speech. Albeit the King did oftentimes urge silence, -and commanded _Pamphilus_ to follow next. So, when attention was -admitted, _Pamphilus_ began in this order. I am of opinion, faire -Ladies, that there is not any matter, how uneasie or doubtfull soever -it may seeme to be; but the man or woman that affecteth fervently, -dare boldly attempt, and effectually accomplish. And this perswasion -of mine, although it hath beene sufficiently approved, by many of our -passed Novels: Yet notwithstanding, I shall make it much apparent to -you, by a present discourse of mine owne. Wherein I have occasion to -speake of a Lady, to whom Fortune was more favourable, then either -reason or judgement, could give direction. In which regard, I would -not advise any of you, to entertaine so high an imagination of minde, -as to tracke her footsteps of whom I am now to speake: because Fortune -containeth not alwayes one and the same disposition, neither can all -mens eyes be blinded after one manner. And so proceed we to our Tale. - -In _Argos_, a most ancient Citie of _Achaya_, much more renowned by -her precedent Kings, then wealth, or any other great matter of worth: -there lived as Lieutenant or Governour thereof, a Noble Lord, named -_Nicostratus_, on whom (albeit hee was well stept into yeares) Fortune -bestowed in a marriage a great Lady, no lesse bold of spirit, then -choisely beautifull. _Nicostratus_, abounding in treasure and wealthy -possessions, kept a goodly trains of Servants, Horses, Houndes, Hawkes, -and what else not, as having an extraordinary felicity in all kinds of -game, as singular exercises to maintaine his health. - -Among his other Servants and Followers, there was a yong Gentleman, -gracefull of person, excellent in speech, and every way as active -as no man could be more: his name _Pyrrhus_, highly affected of -_Nicostratus_, and more intimately trusted then all the rest. Such -seemed the perfections of this _Pyrrhus_, that _Lydia_ (for so was -the Lady named) began to affect him very earnestly, and in such sort, -as day or night shee could take no rest, but devised all meanes to -compasse her harts desire. Now, whether he observed this inclination of -her towards him, or else would take no notice thereof, it could not be -discerned by any outward apprehension: which moved the more impatiency -in her, & drove her hopes to dispairing passions. Wherein to finde some -comfort and ease, she called an ancient Gentlewoman of her Chamber, in -whom shee reposed especiall confidence, and thus she spake to her. - -_Lesca_, The good turnes and favours thou hast received from me, should -make thee faithfull and obedient to me: and therefore set a locke -uppon thy lippes, for revealing to any one whatsoever, such matters as -now I shall impart to thee; except it be to him that I command thee. -Thou perceivest _Lesca_, how youthfull I am, apt to all sprightly -recreations, rich, and abounding in all that a woman can wish to -have, in regard of Fortunes common & ordinary favours: yet I have one -especiall cause of complaint: namely, the inequality of my Mariage, my -Husband being over-ancient for me; in which regard, my youth finds it -selfe too highly wronged, being defeated of those duties and delights, -which women (farre inferiour to me) are continuallie cloyed withall, -and I am utterly deprived of. I am subject to the same desires they -are, and deserve to taste the benefit of them, in as ample manner, as -they do or can. - -Hitherto I have lived with the losse of time, which yet (in some -measure) may be releeved and recompenced: For, though Fortune were mine -enemy in Mariage, by such a disproportion of our conditions: yet she -may befriend in another nature, and kindely redeeme the injury done me. -Wherefore _Lesca_, to be as compleate in this case, as I am in all the -rest beside; I have resolved upon a private Friend, and one more worthy -then any other; Namely, my Servant _Pyrrhus_, whose youth carieth some -correspondency with mine; and so constantly have I setled my love -to him, as I am not well, but when I thinke on him, or see him: and -(indeede) shall dye, except the sooner I may enjoy him. And therefore, -if my life and well-fare be respected by thee, let him understand the -integrity of mine affection, by such good means as thou findest it most -expedient to be done: entreating him from me, that I may have some -conference with him, when he shall thereto be solicited by me. - -The Chamber-Gentlewoman _Lesca_, willingly undertooke the Ladies -Embassie; and so soone as opportunity did favor her: having withdrawne -_Pyrrhus_ into an apt and commodious place, shee delivered the Message -to him, in the best manner she could devise. Which _Pyrrhus_ hearing, -did not a little wonder thereat, never having noted any such matter; -and therefore sodainly conceyved, that the Lady did this onely to -try him; whereupon, somewhat roundly and roughly, hee returned this -answere. _Lesca_, I am not so simple, as to credite any such Message -to be sent from my Lady, and therefore be better advised of thy words. -But admit that it should come from her, yet I cannot be perswaded, that -her soule consented to such harsh Language, far differing from a forme -so full of beauty**. And yet admit againe, that her hart and tongue herein -were relatives: My Lord and Master hath so farre honoured mee, and so -much beyond the least part of merite in mee: as I will rather dye, then -any way offer to disgrace him: And therefore I charge thee, never more -to move mee in this matter. - -_Lesca_, not a jot danted at his stearne words, presently she saide. -_Pyrrhus_, Both in this and all other Messages my Lady shall command -me, I will speake to thee whensoever shee pleaseth, receive what -discontent thou canst thereby; or make presumption of what doubts -thou maist devise. But as I found thee a senselesse fellow, dull, -and not shaped to any understanding, so I leave thee: And in that -anger parted from him, carrying backe the same answer to her Lady. -She no sooner heard it, but instantly shee wished her selfe to be -dead; and within some few dayes after, she conferred againe with her -Chamber-woman, saying. _Lesca_, thou knowest well enough, that the Oxe -falleth not at the first blow of the Axe, neither is the victory won, -upon a silly and shallow adventure: Wherefore, I thinke it convenient, -that once more thou shouldst make another tryall of him, who (in -prejudice to me) standeth so strictly on his loyalty, and choosing -such an houre as seemeth most commodious, soundly possesse him with my -tormenting passions. Bestirre thy Wittes, and tippe thy tongue with a -Womans eloquence, to effect what I so earnestly desire: because, by -languishing in this love-sicke affliction, it well bee the danger of my -death, and some severe detriment to him, to be the occasion of so great -a losse. - -_Lesca_, comforted her Lady, so much as lay in her power to doe, and -having sought for _Pyrrhus_, whom she found at good leysure; and, in -a pleasing humour, thus she beganne. _Pyrrhus_, some few dayes since I -tolde thee, in what extreame Agonies thy Lady and mine was, onely in -regarde of her love to thee: and now againe I come once more, to give -thee further assurance thereof: Wherefore, beleeve it unfeignedly, -that if thy obstinacie continue still, in like manner as the other day -it did, expect very shortly to heare the tydings of her death. - -It is my part therefore, to entreat thee, to comfort her long -languishing desires: but if thou persist in thy harsh opinion, in stead -of reputing thee a wise and fortunate yong man, I shall confesse thee -to bee an ignoraunt Asse. What a glorie is it to thee, to be affected -of so faire and worthy a Lady, beyond all men else whatsoever? Next to -this, tell me, how highly maist thou confesse thy selfe beholding to -Fortune, if thou but duly consider, how shee hath elected thee as sole -soveraigne of her hopes, which is a crowne of honour to thy youth, and -a sufficient refuge against all wants and necessities? Where is any to -thy knowledge like thy selfe, that can make such advantage of his time, -as thou maist do, if thou wert wise? Where canst thou find any one to -go beyond thee in Armes, Horses, sumptuous garments, and Gold, as will -be heaped on thee, if _Lydia_ may be the Lady of thy love? Open then -thine understanding to my words, returne into thine owne soule, and bee -wise for thy selfe. - -Remember (_Pyrrhus_) that Fortune presents her selfe but once before -any one, with cheerefull lookes, and her lappe wide open of richest -favours, where if choice be not quickely made, before she folde it -up, and turn her backe: let no complaint afterward be made of her, -if the Fellow that had so faire an offer, proove to be miserable, -wretched, and a Beggar, only thorow his owne negligence. Beside, what -else hath formerly bin saide, there is now no such neede of loyaltie -in servants to their Ladies, as should be among deare Friends and -Kindred: but servants ought rather (as best they may) be such to their -Masters, as they are to them. Doest thou imagine, that if thou hadst -a faire Wife, Mother, Daughter, or Sister, pleasing in the eye of our -_Nicostratus_; he would stand on such nice tearmes of duty or Loyaltie, -as now thou doest to his Ladie? Thou wert a verie foole to rest so -perswaded. Assure thy selfe, that if entreaties and faire meanes might -not prevaile, force, and compulsion (whatsoever ensued thereon) woulde -winne the masterie. Let us then use them, and the commodities unto them -belonging, as they would us and ours. Use the benefit of thy Fortune, -& beware of abusing her favour. She yet smiles on thee; but take heede -least she turne her backe, it will then be over-late to repent thy -folly. And if my Ladie die through thy disdaine, be assured, that thou -canst not escape with life, beside open shame and disgrace for ever. - -_Pyrrhus_, who had often considered on _Lescaes_ first message, -concluded with himselfe; that if any more she moved the same matter: -hee would returne her another kinde of answere, wholly yeelding to -content his Lady; provided, that he might remaine assured, concerning -the intyre truth of the motion, and that it was not urged onely to -trie him, wherefore, thus he replyed. _Lesca_, do not imagine mee so -ignorant, as not to know the certaintie of all thy former allegations, -confessing them as freely as thou doest, or canst. But yet let mee -tell thee withall, that I knowe my Lord to be wise and judicious, and -having committed all his affaires to my care and trust: never blame mee -to misdoubt; least my Ladie (by his counsell and advice) make thee the -messenger of this motion, thereby to call my Fidelitie in question. - -To cleare which doubt, and for my further assurance of her well meaning -toward me; if she will undertake the performance of three such things -as I must needes require in this case: I am afterward her owne, in any -service she can command me. The first of them, is, that in the presence -of my Lord and Master, she kill his faire Faulcon, which so dearly hee -affecteth. The second, to send me a locke or tuft of his beard, being -puld away with her owne hand. The third and last, with the same hand -also, to pluck out one of his best and soundest teeth, and send it -mee as her loves true token. When I finde all these three effectually -performed, I am wholly hers, & not before. - -These three strict impositions, seemed to _Lesca_, and her Ladie -likewise, almost beyond the compasse of all possibility. Nevertheles -Love, being a powerfull Oratour in perswading, as also adventurous even -on the most difficult dangers; gave her courage to undertake them all: -sending _Lesca_ backe againe to him, with full assurance, of these -more then _Herculean_ labours. Moreover, her selfe did intend to adde -a fourth taske, in regard of his strong opinion concerning the great -Wisedome of his Lord and Maister. After she had effected all the other -three, she would not permit him to kisse her, but before his Lords -face: which yet should be accomplished in such sort, as _Nicostratus_ -himselfe should not beleeve it, although apparantly he saw it. Well, -(quoth _Pyrrhus_) when all these wonders are performed, assure my -Ladie, that I am truelie hers. - -Within a short while after, _Nicostratus_ made a solemne Feastivall -(according as yearely he used to doe) in honour of his birth day, -inviting many Lords and Ladies thereto. On which rejoycing day, so -soone as dinner was ended, and the Tables withdrawne: _Lydia_ came -into the great Hall, where the Feast was solemnly kept; very rich and -costly apparrelled; and there, in presence of _Pyrrhus_, and the whole -assemblie, going to the Perch whereon the Faulcone sate, wherein her -Husband tooke no little delight, and having untyed her, as if shee -meant to beare her on her Fist: tooke her by the Jesses, and beating -her against the wal, killed her. _Nicostratus_ beholding this, called -out aloud unto her, saying. Alas Madame! what have you done? She making -him no answere, but turning to the Lords and Ladies, which had dined -there, spake in this manner. - -Ill should I take revenge on a King, that had offended me, if I had not -so much heart, as to wreake my spleene on a paltry Hawke. Understand -then, worthy Lords and Ladies, that this Faulcone hath long time -robbed me of those delights, which men (in meere equitie) ought to -have with their wives: because continually, so soone as breake of day -hath appeared, my Husband, starting out of bed, makes himselfe readie, -presently to Horsse, and with this Faulcon on his Fist, rides abroad -to his recreation in the Fields. And I, in such forsaken sort as you -see, am left all alone in my bed, discontented and despised: often -vowing to my selfe, to bee thus revenged as now I am, being with-held -from it by no other occasion, but onely want of a fit and apt time, to -do it in the presence of such persons, as might bee just Judges of my -wrongs, and as I conceive you all to be. - -The Lords and Ladies hearing these words, and beleeving this deed -of hers to be done no otherwise, but out of her entire affection to -_Nicostratus_, according as her speeches sounded: compassionately -turning towards him (who was exceedingly displeased) and all smiling, -said. Now in good sadnesse Sir; Madame _Lydia_ hath done well, in -acting her just revenge upon the Hawke, that bereft her of her Husbands -kinde companie; then which nothing is more precious to a loving wife, -and a hell it is to live without it. And _Lydia_, being sodainly -withdrawne into her chamber; with much other friendly and familiar -talke, they converted the anger of _Nicostratus_ into mirth and smiling. - -_Pyrrhus_, who had diligently observed the whole cariage of this -businesse, saide to himselfe. My Ladie hath begun well, and proceeding -on with no worse successe, will (no doubt) bring her love to an happy -conclusion. As for the Lady her selfe, she having thus kild the -Hawke, it was no long while after, but being in the Chamber with her -husband, and they conversing familiarly together: she began to jest -with him, & hee in the like manner with her, tickling and toying each -the other, till at the length she played with his beard, and now she -found occasion aptly serving, to effect the second taske imposed by -_Pyrrhus_. So, taking fast hold on a small tuft of his beard, she gave -a sodaine snatch, and plucked it away quite from his chin. Whereat -_Nicostratus_ beeing angerly moved, she (to appease his distaste) -pleasantly thus spake. How now my Lord? Why do you looke so frowningly? -What? Are you angry for a few loose haires of your beard? How then -should I take it, when you plucke mee by the haire of my head, and yet -I am not a jot discontented, because I know you do it but in jesting -manner? These friendly speeches cut off all further contention, and -she kepte charily the tuft of her Husbands beard, which (the verie -selfe-same day) shee sent to _Pyrrhus_ her hearts chosen friend. - -But now concerning the third matter to be adventured, it drove her -to a much more serious consideration, then those two which shee had -already so well and exactly performed. Notwithstanding, like a Ladie of -unconquerable spirit, and (in whom) Love enlarged his power more and -more: she sodainly conceited, what course was best to bee kept in this -case, forming her attempt in this manner. Upon _Nicostratus_ wayted -two young Gentlemen, as Pages of his Chamber, whose Fathers had given -them to his service, to learne the manners of honourable Courtship, and -those qualities necessarily required in Gentlemen. One of them, when -_Nicostratus_ sate downe to dinner or supper, stood in Office of his -Carver, delivering him all the meats whereon he fed. The other (as -Taster) attended on his Cup, and he dranke no other drinke, but what -hee brought him, and they both were highly pleasing unto him. - -On a day, _Lydia_ called these two youths aside; and, among some other -speeches, which served but as an induction to her intended policy; she -perswaded them, that their mouths yeelded an unsavoury & ill-pleasing -smell, whereof their Lord seemed to take dislike. Wherefore she advised -them, that at such times as they attended on him in their severall -places: they should (so much as possibly they could) withdraw their -heads aside from him, because their breath might not be noyous unto -him. But withall, to have an especiall care, of not disclosing to -any one, what she had told them; because (out of meere love) she -had acquainted them therewith: which very constantly they beleeved, -and followed the same direction as she had advised, being loath to -displease, where service bound them to obey. Choosing a time fitting -for her purpose, when _Nicostratus_ was in private conference with her, -thus she began. Sir, you observe not the behaviour of your two pages, -when they wait on you at the Table? Yes but I do wife (quoth he) how -squemishly they turn their heads aside from me, and it hath often bin -in my minde, to understand a reason why they do so. - -Seating herselfe by him, as if shee had some weighty matter to tell -him; she proceeded in this manner. Alas my Lord, you shall not need -to question them, because I can sufficiently resolve you therein: -which (neverthelesse) I have long concealed, because I would not be -offensive to you. But in regard, it is now manifestly apparant, that -others have tasted, what (I immagined) none but my selfe did, I will -no longer hide it from you. Assuredly Sir, there is a most strange and -unwonted ill-savour, continually issuing from your mouth, smelling most -noysomely, and I wonder what should be the occasion. In former times, -I never felt any such foule breathing to come from you: and you, who -do daily converse with so many worthy persons, should seeke meanes to -be rid of so great an annoyance. You say verie true wife (answered -_Nicostratus_) and I protest to you on my Credite, I feele no such ill -smell, neither know what should cause it, except I have some corrupted -tooth in my mouth. Perhaps Sir (quoth she) it may be so, and yet you -feele not the savour which others do, yea, very offensively. - -So, walking with her to a Window, he opened wide his mouth, the which -nicely shee surveyed on either side, and, turning her head from him, -as seeming unable to endure the savour: starting, and shrieking out -alowd, she said. Santa Maria! What a sight is this? Alas my good Lord, -How could you abide this, and for so long a while? Heere is a tooth on -this side, which (so farre as I can perceive) is not onely hollow and -corrupted: but also wholly putrified and rotten, and if it continue -still in your head, beleeve it for a truth, that it will infect and -spoile all the rest neere it. I would therefore counsell you, to let -it be pluckt out, before it breede your further danger. I like your -counsell well _Lydia_, replyed _Nicostratus_, and presently intend -to follow it; Let therefore my Barber be sent for, and, without any -longer delay, he shall plucke it forth instantly. - -How Sir? (quoth she,) your Barber? Uppon mine Honour, there shall come -no Barber heere. Why Sir, it is such a rotten Tooth, and standeth so -fairely for my hand: that, without helpe or advice of any Barber, let -mee alone for plucking it forth, without putting you to any paine at -all. Moreover, let me tell you Sir, those Tooth-drawers are so rude and -cruell, in performing such Offices, as my heart cannot endure, that you -should come within compasse of their currish courtesie, neither shall -you Sir, if you will be ruled by me. If I should faile in the manner of -their facilitie, yet love & duty hath enstructed me, to forbeare your -least paining, which no unmannerly Barber will do. - -Having thus spoken, and he well contented with her kinde offer, the -instruments were brought, which are used in such occasions, all being -commanded forth of the Chamber, but onely _Lesca_, who evermore kept -still in her company. So, locking fast the doore, and _Nicostratus_ -being seated, as she thought fittest for her purpose, she put the -Tanacles into his mouth, catching fast hold on one of his soundest -teeth: which, notwithstanding his loud crying, _Lesca_ held him so -strongly, that forth she pluckt it, and hid it, having another tooth -readie made hot & bloody, very much corrupted and rotten, which she -helde in the Tanacles, and shewed to him, who was well-neere halfe dead -with anguish. See Sir (quoth she) was this Tooth to be suffered in your -head, and to yeeld so foule a smell as it did? He verily beleeving what -she said, albeit hee had endured extreame paine, and still complained -on her harsh and violent pulling it out: rejoyced yet, that he was now -ridde of it, and she comforting him on the one side, and the anguish -asswaging him on the other, he departed forth of the Chamber. - -In the mean while, by _Lesca_ she sent the sound tooth to _Pyrrhus_, -who (wondering not a little at her so many strange attempts; which hee -urged so much the rather, as thinking their performance impossible, -and, in meere loyall duty to his Lord) seeing them all three to be -notably effected; he made no further doubt of her intire love towardes -him, but sent her assurance likewise, of his readinesse and serviceable -diligence, whensoever she would command him. - -Now, after the passage of all these adventures, hardly to bee -undertaken by any other Woman: yet she held them insufficient for -his security, in the grounded perswasion of her love to him, except -shee performed another of her owne, and according as shee had boldly -promised. Houres do now seeme dayes, and dayes multiplicitie of -yeeres, till the kisse may be given, and receyved in the presence of -_Nicostratus_, yet hee himselfe to avouch the contrary. - -Madam _Lydia_ (upon a pretended sicknesse) keepeth her chamber, and -as women can hardly be exceeded in dissimulation: so, shee wanted no -wit, to seeme exquisitely cunning, in all the outwarde apparances of -sicknesse. One day after dinner, shee being visited by _Nicostratus_, -and none attending on him but _Pyrrhus_ onely: she earnestly entreated, -that as a mitigation, to some inward afflictions which she felt, they -would helpe to guide her into the Garden. - -Most gladly was her motion graunted, and _Nicostratus_ gently taking -her by one arme, and _Pyrrhus_ by the other, so they conducted her into -the Garden, seating her in a faire floury Grasse-plot, with her backe -leaning to a Peare-tree. Having sitten there an indifferent while, -and _Pyrrhus_, being formerly enstructed, in the directions which she -had given him, thus shee spake, some-what faintly. _Pyrrhus_, I have -a kinde of longing desire upon a sodaine, to taste of these Peares: -Wherefore, climbe up into the Tree, and cast me downe one or two; which -instantly hee did. Being aloft in the Tree, and throwing downe some of -the best and ripest Peares; at length (according to his premeditated -Lesson) looking downe, he said. - -Forbeare my Lord, Do you not see, in how weake and feeble condition my -Ladie is, being shaken with so violent a sicknesse? And you Madam, how -kinde and loving soever you are to my Lord, Are you so little carefull -of your health, being but now come forth of your sicke Chamber, to be -ruffled and tumbled in such rough manner? Though such dalliances are -not amisse in you both; being fitter for the private Chamber, then -an open garden, and in the presence of a servant: yet time and place -should alwaies bee respectively considered, for the avoiding of ill -example, and better testimonie of your owne Wisedomes, which ever -should be like your selves. But if so soone, and even in the heate of -a yet turbulent sickenesse, your equall love can admit these kisses -and embraces: your private Lodginges were much more convenient, where -no Servants eye can see such Wantonnesse, nor you be reproved of -indiscretion, for being too publique in your Familiaritie. - -Madame _Lydia_, sodainely starting, and turning unto her Husband, -sayde. What doth _Pyrrhus_ prate? Is he well in his wittes? Or is -he franticke? No Madame, replyed _Pyrrhus_, I am not franticke. Are -you so fond as to thinke that I do not see your folly? _Nicostratus_ -wondering at his Words, presently answered. Now trust me _Pyrrhus_, -I think thou dreamest. No my Lord, replyed _Pyrrhus_, I dreame not a -jot, neither do you, or my Ladie: but if this Tree could affoord the -like kindnesse to me, as you do to her, there would not a Peare bee -left uppon it. How now _Pyrrhus_? (quoth _Lydia_) this language goeth -beyond our understanding, it seemeth thou knowest not what thou saist. -Beleeve me husband, if I were as well as ever I have bin, I would climb -this tree, to see those idle wonders which hee talketh of: for, while -he continueth thus above, it appeareth, hee can finde no other prattle, -albeit he taketh his marke amisse. - -Heereupon, he commanded _Pyrrhus_ to come downe, and being on the -ground: Now _Pyrrhus_ (quoth he) tell me what thou saydst. _Pyrrhus_, -pretending an alteration into much amazement, straungely looking about -him, saide; I know not verie well (my Lord) what answere I should make -you, fearing least my sight hath bin abused by error: for when I was -aloft in that Tree, it seemed manifestly to me: that you embraced my -Lady (though somewhat rudely, in regard of her perillous sicknesse, -yet lovingly) and as youthfully as in your yonger daies, with infinite -kisses, and wanton dalliances, such as (indeede) deserved a far more -private place in my poore opinion. But in my descending downe, mee -thought you gave over that amorous familiaritie, and I found you seated -as I left you. Now trust mee _Pyrrhus_, answered _Nicostratus_, Thy -tongue and wit have very strangely wandred, both from reason and all -reall apprehension: because we never stirred from hence, since thou -didst climbe up into the Tree, neither mooved otherwise, then as now -thou seest us. Alas my Lord (saide _Pyrrhus_) I humbly crave pardon for -my presumption, in reprooving you for medling with your owne: which -shall make me hereafter better advised, in any thing what soever I heare -or see. - -Mervaile and amazement, encreased in _Nicostratus_ far greater then -before, hearing him to avouch still so constantly what he had seene, -no contradiction being able to alter him, which made him rashly sweare -and say. I will see my selfe, whether this Peare-tree bee enchanted, -or no: and such wonders to be seene when a man is up in it, as thou -wouldst have us to beleeve. And being mounted up so hy, that they were -safe from his sodaine comming on them, _Lydia_ had soone forgotten her -sicknes, and the promised kisse cost her above twenty more, beside -verie kinde and hearty embraces, as lovingly respected and entertained -by _Pyrrhus_. Which _Nicostratus_ beholding aloft in the tree; cryed -out to her, saying. Wicked woman, What doest thou meane? And thou -villain _Pyrrhus_, Darst thou abuse thy Lord, who hath reposed so much -trust in thee? So, descending in haste downe againe, yet crying so to -them still: _Lydia_ replyed, Alas my Lord, Why do you raile and rave in -such sort? So, hee found her seated as before, and _Pyrrhus_ waiting -with dutifull reverence, even as when he climbed up the Tree: but yet -he thought his sight not deceyved, for all their demure and formall -behaviour, which made him walke up and downe, extreamely fuming and -fretting unto himselfe, and which in some milder manner to qualifie, -_Pyrrhus_ spake thus to him. - -I deny not (my good Lord) but freely confesse, that even as your selfe, -so I, being above in the Tree, had my sight most falsely deluded: which -is so apparantly confirmed by you, and in the same sort, as there -needeth no doubt of both our beguiling; in one and the same suspitious -nature. In which case to be the more assuredly resolved, nothing can -be questioned, but whether your beleefe do so farre misleade you, as -to thinke, that my Ladie (who hath alwayes bene most wise, loyall, -and vertuous,) would so shamefullie wrong you: yea, and to performe -it before your face, wherein I dare gadge my life to the contrary. -Concerning my selfe, it is not fit for mee, to argue or contest in -mine owne commendation: you that have ever knowne the sincerity of my -service, are best able to speake in my behalfe: and rather wold I be -drawne in peeces with foure wilde horses, then bee such an injurious -slave to my Lord and Master. - -Now then, it can be no otherwise, but we must needs rest certainely -perswaded, that the guile and offence of this false appearance, was -occasioned by thee onely. For all the world could not make me otherwise -beleeve, but that I saw you kisse and most kindely imbrace my Lady: -if your owne eyes had not credited the like behaviour in me to her, -of which sinne, I never conceived so much as a thought. The Lady (on -the other side) seeming to be very angerly incensed, starting faintly -upon her feet, yet supporting her selfe by the tree, said. It appeareth -Sir, that you have entertained a goodly opinion of me as, if I were so -lewde and lasciviously disposed, or addicted to the very least desire -of wantonnesse: that I would bee so forgetfull of mine owne honour, as -to adventure it in your sight, and with a servant of my house? Oh Sir, -such women as are so familiarly affected, need learne no wit of men in -amourous matters; their private Chambers shall be better trusted, then -an open blabing and tell-tale Garden. - -_Nicostratus_, who verily beleeved what they had both said, and that -neither of them would adventure such familiarity before his face: -would talke no more of the matter, but rather studyed of the rarity of -such a miracle, not seene, but in the height of the tree, and changing -againe upon the descent. But _Lydia_, containing still her collourable -kinde of impatience, and angerly frowning upon _Nicostratus_, stearnely -saide. If I may have my will, this villanous and deceiving tree, shall -never more shame me, or any other woman: and therefore _Pyrrhus_, runne -for an Axe, and by felling it to the ground, in an instant, revenge -both thy wrong and mine. Doest not thou serve a worthy Lord? And have -not I a wise Husband, who, without any consideration, will suffer the -eye of his understanding to be so dazeled, with a foolish imagination -beyond all possibility? For, although his eyes did apprehend such a -folly, and it seemed to be a truth indeed: yet, in the depth of setled -judgement, all the world should not perswade him, that it was so. - -_Pyrrhus_ had quickely brought the Axe, and hewing downe the tree, so -soone as the Lady saw it fall; turning her selfe to _Nicostratus_, she -said. Now that I have seene mine honour and honesties enemy laid along; -mine anger is past, and Husband, I freely pardon you: intreating you -heartily henceforward, not to presume or imagine, that my love eyther -is, or can bee altred from you. - -Thus the mocked and derided _Nicostratus_, returned in againe with his -Lady and _Pyrrhus_; where perhaps (although the Peare-tree was cut -downe) they could find as cunning meanes to over-reach him. - - - - -_Two Citizens of_ Siena, _the one named_ Tingoccio Mini, _& the other_ -Meucio di Tora, _affected both one woman, called_ Monna Mita, _to whom -the one of them was a Gossip. The Gossip dyed, and appeared afterward -to his companion, according as he had formerly promised him to doe, and -tolde him what strange wonders he had seene in the other world._ - -The Tenth Novell. - -_Wherein such men are covertly reprehended, who make no care or -conscience at all of those things that should preserve them from sinne._ - - -Now there remained none but the King himselfe, last of all to recount -his Novell; who, after hee heard the Ladies complaints indifferently -pacified, for the rash felling downe of such a precious Peare-tree; -thus he began. Faire Ladies, it is a case more then manifest, that -every King, who will be accounted just and upright: should first of -all, and rather then any other, observe those Lawes which he himselfe -hath made; otherwise he ought to be reputed as a servant, worthy of -punishment, and no King. Into which fault and reprehension, I your -King, shall well neere be constrained to fall; for yesterday I enacted -a Law, upon the forme of our discoursing, with full intent, that this -day I would not use any part of my priviledge; but being subject (as -you all are) to the same Law, I should speake of that argument, which -already you have done. - -Wherein, you have not onely performed more then I could wish, upon a -subject so sutable to my minde: but in every Novell, such variety of -excellent matter, such singular illustrations, and delicate eloquence -hath flowne from you all; as I am utterly unable to invent any thing -(notwithstanding the most curious search of my braine) apt or fit -for the purpose, to paragon the meanest of them already related. -And therefore seeing I must needs sinne in the Law established by -my selfe; I tender my submission, as worthy of punishment, or what -amends else you please to enjoyne mee. Now, as returned to my wonted -priviledge, I say, that the Novell recounted by Madame _Eliza_, of the -Fryar Godfather and his Gossip _Agnesia_, as also the sottishnesse -of the _Senese_ her Husband, hath wrought in me (worthy Ladies) to -such effect; as, forbearing to speake any more of these wily prancks, -which witty wives exercise on their simple Husbands; I am to tell you -a pretty short Tale; which, though there is matter enough in it, not -worthy the crediting, yet partly it will bee pleasing to heare. - -Sometime there lived in _Sienna_ two popular men; the one being named -_Tingoccio Mini_ and the other _Meucio de Tora_; Men simple, and of -no understanding, both of them dwelling in _Porta Salaia_. These two -men lived in such familiar conversation together, and expressed such -cordiall affection each to other, as they seldome walked asunder; but -(as honest men use to doe) frequented Churches and Sermons, oftentimes -hearing, both what miseries and beatitudes were in the world to come, -according to the merits of their soules that were departed out of this -life, and found their equall repaiment in the other. The manifold -repetition of these matters, made them very earnestly desirous to know, -by what meanes they might have tydings from thence, for their further -confirmation. And finding all their endeavours utterly frustrated, they -made a solemne vow and promise (each to other under oath) that hee -which first dyed of them two, should returne backe againe (so soone -as possibly he could) to the other remaining alive, and tell him such -tydings as hee desired to heare. - -After the promise was thus faithfully made, and they still keeping -company, as they were wont to doe: It fortuned, that _Tingoccio_ became -Gossip to one, named _Ambrosito Anselmino_, dwelling in _Camporeggio_, -who by his wife, called _Monna Mita_, had a sweet and lovely Sonne. -_Tingoccio_ often resorting thither, and consorted with his companion -_Meucio_; the she-Gossip, being a woman worthy the loving, faire and -comely of her person: _Tingoccio_, notwithstanding the Gossipship -betweene them, had more then a moneths minde to his Godchilds Mother. -_Meucio_ also fell sicke of the same disease, because shee seemed -pleasing in his eye, and _Tingoccio_ gave her no meane commendations; -yet, carefully they concealed their love to themselves, but not for one -& the same occasion. Because _Tingoccio_ kept it closely from _Meucio_, -lest he should hold it disgracefull in him, to beare amourous affection -to his Gossip, and thought it unfitting to bee knowne. But _Meucio_ -had no such meaning, for hee knew well enough that _Tingoccio_ loved -her, and therefore conceived in his minde, that if he discovered any -such matter to him: He will (quoth he) be jealous of me, and being -her Gossip, which admitteth his conference with her when himselfe -pleaseth; he may easily make her to distaste me, and therefore I must -rest contented as I am. - -Their love continuing on still in this kinde, _Tingoccio_ prooved -so fortunate in the businesse, that having better meanes then his -companion, and more prevayling courses, when, where, and how to Court -his Mistresse, which seemed to forward him effectually. All which -_Meucio_ plainely perceived, and though it was tedious and wearisome -to him, yet hoping to finde some successe at length: he would not -take notice of any thing, as fearing to infringe the amity betweene -him and _Tingoccio_, and so his hope to be quite supplanted. Thus the -one triumphing in his loves happinesse, and the other hoping for his -felicity to come; a lingaring sickenesse seazed on _Tingoccio_, which -brought him to so low a condition, as at the length he dyed. - -About some three or foure nights after, _Meucio_ being fast asleepe -in his bed, the ghoste of _Tingoccio_ appeared to him, and called so -loude, that _Meucio_ awaking, demanded who called him? I am thy friend -_Tingoccio_, replied the ghoste, who according to my former promise -made, am come again in vision to thee, to tell thee tidings out of the -nether world. _Meucio_ was a while somewhat amazed; but, recollecting -his more manly spirits together, boldly he said. My brother and friend, -thou art heartily welcome: but I thought thou hadst beene utterly lost. -Those things (quoth _Tingoccio_) are lost, which cannot be recovered -againe, and if I were lost, how could I then be heere with thee? Alas -_Tingoccio_, replyed _Meucio_, my meaning is not so: but I would be -resolved, whether thou art among the damned soules, in the painefull -fire of hell torments, or no? No (quoth _Tingoccio_) I am not sent -thither, but for divers sinnes by mee committed I am to suffer very -great and grievous paines. Then _Meucio_ demaunded particularly, the -punishments inflicted there, for the severall sinnes committed heere: -Wherein _Tingoccio_ fully resolved him. And upon further question, what -hee would have to be done for him here, made answere, That _Meucio_ -should cause Masses, Prayers and Almes deeds to be performed for him, -which (he said) were very helpefull to the soules abiding there, and -_Meucio_ promised to see them done. - -As the ghost was offering to depart, _Meucio_ remembred _Tingoccioes_ -Gossip _Monna Mita_, and raysing himselfe higher upon his pillowe, -said. My memorie informeth me, friend _Tingoccio_, of your kinde Gossip -_Monna Mita_, with whom (when you remained in this life) I knew you to -be very familiar: let me intreat you then to tell me, what punishment -is inflicted on you there, for that wanton sinne committed heere? Oh -Brother _Meucio_, answered _Tingoccio_, so soone as my soule was landed -there, one came immediately to me, who seemed to know all mine offences -readily by heart, and forthwith commanded, that I should depart thence -into a certaine place, where I must weepe for my sinnes in very -grievous paines. There I found more of my companions, condemned to -the same punishment as I was, and being among them, I called to minde -some wanton dalliances, which had passed betweene my Gossip and me, -and expecting therefore farre greater afflictions, then as yet I felt -(although I was in a huge fire, and exceedingly hot) yet with conceite -of feare, I quaked and trembled wondrously. - -One of my other Consorts being by me, and perceiving in what an -extreame agony I was; presently said unto me. My friend, what hast -thou done more, then any of us here condemned with thee, that thou -tremblest and quakest, being in so hot a fire? Oh my friend (quoth I) -I am in feare of a greater judgement then this, for a grievous offence -by mee heretofore committed while I lived. Then hee demaunded of mee -what offence it was, whereto thus I answered. It was my chance in the -other world, to be Godfather at a childs Christning, and afterward I -grew so affectionate to the childs mother, as (indeed) I kissed her -twice or thrise. My companyon laughing at me in mocking manner, replyed -thus. Goe like an Asse as thou art, and be no more afraid hereafter, -for here is no punishment inflicted, in any kinde whatsoever, for such -offences of frailty committed, especially with Gossips, as I my selfe -can witnesse. - -Now day drew on, and the Cockes began to crow, a dreadfull hearing -to walking spirits, when _Tingoccio_ said to _Meucio_. Farewell my -friendly companion, for I may tarry no longer with thee, and instantly -hee vanished away. _Meucio_ having heard this confession of his friend, -and verily beleeving it for a truth, that no punishment was to be -inflicted in the future world, for offences of frailty in this life, -and chiefly with Gossips: began to condemne his owne folly, having bin -a Gossip to many wives, yet modesty restrained him from such familiar -offending. And therefore being sorry for this grosse ignorance, hee -made a vowe to be wiser hereafter. And if Fryar _Reynard_ had been -acquainted with this kind of shrift (as doubtlesse he was, though his -Gossip _Agnesia_ knew it not) he needed no such Syllogismes, as he -put in practise, when he converted her to his lustfull knavery, in -the comparison of kinred by him moved, concerning her husband, the -childe and himselfe. But, these are the best fruits of such Fryerly -Confessions, to compasse the issue of their inordinate appetites; yet -clouded with the cloake of Religion, which hath beene the overthrow of -too many. - - * * * * * - -By this time the gentle blast of _Zephirus_ began to blow, because the -Sunne grew neere his setting, wherewith the King concluded his Novell, -and none remaining more to be thus imployed: taking the Crowne from off -his owne head, he placed it on Madame _Laurettaes_, saying, Madame, I -Crowne you with your owne Crowne, as Queene of our Company. You shall -henceforth command as Lady and Mistresse, in such occasions as shall -be to your liking, and for the contentment of us all; With which words -he set him downe. And Madame _Lauretta_ being now created Queene, shee -caused the Master of the houshold to bee called, to whom she gave -command, that the Tables should be prepared in the pleasant vally, but -at a more convenient houre, then formerly had beene, because they might -(with better ease) returne backe to the Pallace. Then shee tooke order -likewise, for all such other necessary matters, as should bee required -in the time of her Regiment: and then turning her selfe to the whole -Company, she began in this manner. - -It was the Will of _Dioneus_ yesternight, that our discourses for this -day, should concerne the deceits of wives to their Husbands. And were -it not to avoyde taxation, of a spleenitive desire to be revenged, -like the dog being bitten, biteth againe: I could command our to -morrows conference, to touch mens treacheries towards their wives. But -because I am free from any such fiery humour, let it be your generall -consideration, to speake of such queint beguylings, as have heretofore -past, either of the woman to the man, the man to the woman, or of one -man to another: and I am of opinion, that they will yeeld us no lesse -delight, then those related (this day) have done. When she had thus -spoken, she rose; granting them all liberty, to goe recreate themselves -untill Supper time. - -The Ladies being thus at their owne disposing, some of them bared their -legges and feete, to wash them in the coole current. Others, not so -minded, walked on the greene grasse, and under the goodly spreading -trees. _Dioneus_ and Madame _Fiammetta_, they sate singing together, -the love-warre betweene _Arcit_ and _Palemon_. And thus with diversity -of disports, in choice delight and much contentment, all were imployed, -till Supper drew neere. When the houre was come, and the Tables covered -by the Ponds side: we need not question their dyet and dainties, -infinite Birds sweetly singing about them, as no musicke in the world -could be more pleasing; beside calme windes, fanning their faces from -the neighbouring hilles (free from flyes, or the least annoyance) made -a delicate addition to their pleasure. - -No sooner were the Tables withdrawne, and all risen: but they fetcht a -few turnings about the vally, because the Sunne was not (as yet) quite -set. Then in the coole evening, according to the Queenes appointment: -in a soft and gentle pace, they walked homeward: devising on a thousand -occasions, as well those which the dayes discourses had yeelded, as -others of their owne inventing beside. It was almost darke night, -before they arrived at the Pallace; where, with variety of choice -Wines, and abounding plenty of rare Banquetting, they out-wore the -little toile and wearinesse, which the long walke had charged them -withall. Afterward, according to their wonted order, the Instruments -being brought and played on, they fell to dancing about the faire -Fountaine; _Tindaro_ intruding (now and then) the sound of his Bagpipe, -to make the musicke seeme more melodious. But in the end, the Queene -commanded Madame _Philomena_ to sing; whereupon the Instruments being -tuned fit for the purpose, thus she began. - - The Song. - - The Chorus Sung by the whole Company. - - _Wearisome is my life to me, - Because I cannot once againe returne; - Unto the place which made me first to mourne._ - - _Nothing I know, yet feele a powerfull fire, - Burning within my brest, - Through deepe desire; - To be once more where first I felt unrest, - Which cannot be exprest. - O my sole good! O my best happinesse! - Why am I thus restrainde? - Is there no comfort in this wretchednesse? - Then let me live content, to be thus painde. - Wearisome is my life to me, &c._ - - _I cannot tell what was that rare delight, - Which first enflamde my soule, - And gave command in spight, - That I should find no ease by day or night, - But still live in controule. - I see, I heare, and feele a kinde of blisse, - Yet find no forme at all: - Other in their desire, finde blessednesse, - But I have none, nor thinke I ever shall. - Wearisome is my life to me, &c._ - - _Tell me if I may hope in following dayes, - To have but one poore sight, - Of those bright Sunny rayes, - Dazeling my sence, did o'recome me quite, - Bequeath'd to wandring wayes. - If I be posted off and may not prove. - To have the smallest grace: - Or but to know, that this proceeds from love, - Why should I live despisde in every place? - Wearisome is my life to me, &c._ - - _Me thinkes milde favour whispers in mine eare, - And bids me not despaire; - There will a time appeare - To quell and quite confound consuming care, - And joy surmount proud feare. - In hope that gracious time will come at length, - To cheare my long dismay: - My spirits reassume your former strength, - And never dread to see that joyfull day. - Wearisome is my life to me, - Because I cannot once againe returne; - Unto the place which made me first to mourne._ - -This Song gave occasion to the whole Company, to imagine, that some new -and pleasing apprehension of Love, constrained Madame _Philomena_ to -sing in this manner. And because (by the discourse thereof) it plainely -appeared, that shee had felt more then shee saw, shee was so much the -more happy, and the like was wished by all the rest. Wherefore, after -the Song was ended; the Queene remembring, that the next day following -was Friday, turning her selfe graciously to them all, thus she spake. - -You know noble Ladies, and you likewise most noble Gentlemen, that to -morrow is the day consecrated to the Passion of our blessed Lord and -Saviour, which (if you have not forgotten it, as easily you cannot) -we devoutly celebrated, Madame _Neiphila_ being then Queene, ceasing -from all our pleasant discoursing, as we did the like on the Saturday -following, sanctifying the sacred Sabboth, in due regard of it selfe. -Wherefore, being desirous to imitate precedent good example, which -in worthy manner shee began to us all: I hold it very decent and -necessary, that we should asttaine to morrow, and the day ensuing, from -recounting any of our pleasant Novels, reducing to our memories, what -was done (as on those dayes) for the salvation of our soules. This holy -and Religious motion made by the Queene, was commendably allowed by -all the assembly, and therefore, humbly taking their leave of her, and -an indifferent part of the night being already spent; severally they -betooke themselves to their Chambers. - - -_The end of the Seaventh day._ - - - - -THE EIGHT DAY. - -Whereon all the Discourses, passe under the Rule and Government, of the -Honourable Ladie LAURETTA. And the Argument imposed, is, Concerning -such Wittie deceyvings; as have, or may be put in practise, by Wives to -their Husbands; Husbands to their Wives: Or one man towards another. - -The Induction. - - -Earely on the Sonday Morning, _Aurora_ shewing her selfe bright and -lovely; the Sunnes Golden beames beganne to appeare, on the toppes -of the neere adjoyning Mountaines; so, that Hearbes, Plants, Trees, -and all things else, were verie evidently to be discerned. The Queene -and her Companie, being all come foorth of their Chambers, and having -walked a while abroad, in the goodly greene Meadowes, to taste the -sweetnesse of the fresh and wholesome ayre, they returned backe againe -into the Palace, because it was their dutie so to do. - -Afterward, betweene the houres of seaven and eight, they went to heare -Masse, in a faire Chappell neere at hand, and thence returned to their -Lodgings. When they had dined merrily together, they fell to their -wonted singing and dauncing: Which beeing done, such as were so pleased -(by License of the Queene first obtained) went either to their rest, -or such exercises as they tooke most delight in. When midday, and the -heate thereof was well over-past, so that the aire seemed mild and -temperate: according as the Queene had commanded; they were all seated -againe about the Fountaine, with intent to prosecute their former -pastime. And then Madame _Neiphila_, by the charge imposed on her, as -first speaker for this day, beganne as followeth. - - - - -Gulfardo _made a match or wager, with the Wife of_ Gasparuolo, _for the -obtaining of her amorous favour, in regard of a summe of money first -to be given her. The money hee borrowed of her Husband, and gave it in -payment to her, as in case of discharging him from her Husbands debt. -After his returne home from_ Geneway, _hee told him in the presence -of his wife, how he had payde the whole summe to her, with charge of -delivering it to her Husband, which she confessed to be true, albeit -greatly against her will._ - -The First Novell. - -_Wherein is declared, that such women as will make sale of their -honestie, are sometimes over-reached in their payment, and justly -served as they should be._ - - -Seeing it is my fortune, Gracious Ladies, that I must give beginning to -this dayes discoursing, by some such Novel which I thinke expedient; as -duty bindeth me, I am therewith well contented. And because the deceits -of Women to men, have beene at large and liberally related; I will tell -you a subtile tricke of a man to a Woman. Not that I blame him for the -deede, or thinke the deceyte not well fitted to the woman: but I speake -it in a contrarie nature, as commending the man, and condemning the -woman very justly, as also to shew, how men can as well beguile those -crafty companions, which least beleeve any such cunning in them, as -they that stand most on their artificiall skill. - -Howbeit, to speake more properly, the matter by me to be reported, -deserveth not the reproachfull title of deceite, but rather of a -recompence duly returned: because women ought to be chaste and -honest, & to preserve their honour as their lives, without yeelding -to the contamination thereof, for any occasion whatsoever. And yet -(neverthelesse, in regard of our frailty) many times we proove not so -constant as we should be: yet I am of opinion, that she which selleth -her honestie for money, deserveth justly to be burned. Whereas on the -contrary, she that falleth into the offence, onely through intire -affection (the powerfull lawes of Love beeing above all resistance) in -equity meriteth pardon, especially of a Judge not over-rigorous: as not -long since wee heard from _Philostratus_, in revealing what hapned to -Madam _Phillippa de Prato_, upon the dangerous Edict. - -Understand then, my most worthy Auditors, that there lived sometime in -_Millaine_ an _Almaigne_ Soldiour, named _Gulfardo_, of commendable -carriage in his person, and very faithfull to such as he served, a -matter not common among the _Almaignes_. And because he made just -repayment, to every one which lent him monies; he grew to such -especiall credit, and was so familiar with the very best Marchants; -as (manie times) he could not be so ready to borrow, as they were -willing alwaies to lend him. He thus continuing in the Cittie of -_Millaine_, fastened his affection on a verie beautifull Gentlewoman, -named Mistresse _Ambrosia_, Wife unto a rich Merchant, who was called -Signior _Gasparuolo Sagastraccio_, who had good knowledge of him, and -respectively used him. Loving this Gentlewoman with great discretion, -without the least apprehension of her husband: he sent upon a day to -entreate conference with her, for enjoying the fruition of her love, -and she should find him ready to fulfill whatsoever she pleased to -command him, as, at any time he would make good his promise. - -The Gentlewoman, after divers of these private solicitings, resolutely -answered, that she was as ready to fulfill the request of _Gulfardo_, -provided, that two especiall considerations might ensue thereon. -First, the faithfull concealing thereof from any person living. Next, -because she knew him to be rich, and she had occasion to use two -hundred Crowns, about businesse of important consequence: he should -freely bestow so many on her, and (ever after) she was to be commanded -by him. _Gulfardo_ perceiving the covetousnesse of this woman, who -(notwithstanding his doting affection) he thought to be intirely honest -to her Husband: became so deepely offended at her vile answere, that -his fervent love converted into as earnest loathing her; determining -constantlie to deceive her, and to make her avaritious motion, the only -means whereby to effect it. - -He sent her word, that he was willing to performe her request, or any -farre greater matter for her: in which respect, he onely desired for -to know, when she would be pleased to have him come see her, and to -receive the money of him? No creature hee acquainted with his setled -purpose, but onely a deere friend and kinde companion, who alwayes -used to keepe him company, in the neerest occasions that concerned -him. The Gentlewoman, or rather most disloyall wife, uppon this answer -sent her, was extraordinarily jocond and contented, returning him a -secret Letter, wherein she signified: that _Gasparuolo_ her husband, -had important affaires which called him to _Geneway_: but he should -understand of his departure, and then (with safety) he might come see -her, as also his bringing of the Crownes. - -In the meane while, _Gulfardo_ having determined what he would do, -watched a convenient time, when he went unto _Gasparuolo_, and sayde: -Sir, I have some businesse of maine importance, and shall neede to use -but two hundred Crownes onely: I desire you to lend me so many Crownes, -upon such profite as you were wont to take of mee, at other times when -I have made use of you, and I shall not faile you at my day. - -_Gasparuolo_ was well contented with the motion, and made no more adoe, -but counted downe the Crownes: departing thence (within few dayes -after) for _Geneway_, according** to his Wives former message; she giving -_Gulfardo_ also intelligence of his absence, that now (with safety) hee -might come see her, and bring the two hundred Crownes with him. - -_Gulfardo_, taking his friend in his company, went to visite Mistresse -_Ambrosia_, whom he found in expectation of his arrivall, and the first -thing he did, he counted downe the two hundred Crownes; and delivering -them to her in the presence of his friend, saide: Mistresse _Ambrosia_, -receive these two hundred Crownes, which I desire you to pay unto your -Husband on my behalfe, when he is returned from _Geneway. Ambrosia_, -receyved the two hundred Crownes, not regarding wherefore _Gulfardo_ -used these words: because shee verily beleeved, that hee spake in such -manner, because his friend should take no notice, of his giving them -to her, upon any covenant passed betweene them; whereuppon, she sayde. -Sir, I will pay them to my Husband for you; and cause him to give you a -sufficient discharge: but first I will count them over my selfe, to see -whether the summe be just, or no. And having drawne them over upon the -Table, the summe containing truly two hundred Crownes (wherewith she -was most highly contented) she lockt them safe uppe in her Cuppe-boord, -and _Gulfardoes_ Friend being gone (as formerly it was compacted -betweene them) shee came to converse more familiarly with him, having -provided a banquet for him. What passed between them afterward, both -then, and oftentimes beside, before her Husbande returned home, is -a matter out of my element, and rather requires my ignorance then -knowledge. - -When _Gasparuolo_ was come from _Geneway, Gulfardo_ observing a -convenient time, when he was sitting at the doore with his Wife; tooke -his Friend with him, and comming to _Gasparuolo_, said. Worthy Sir, the -two hundred Crownes which you lent me, before your journy to _Geneway_, -in regard they could not serve my turne, to compasse the businesse for -which I borrowed them: within a day or two after, in the presence of -this Gentleman my friend, I made repayment of them to your wife, and -therefore I pray you crosse me out of your booke. - -_Gasparuolo_ turning to his Wife, demanded; Whether it was so, or no? -She beholding the witnesse standing by, who was also present at her -receyving them: durst not make deniall, but thus answered. Indeede -Husband, I received two hundred Crownes of the Gentleman, and never -remembred, to acquaint you therewith since your comming home: but -hereafter I will be made no more your receiver, except I carried a -quicker memory. - -Then saide _Gasparuolo_: Signior _Gulfardo_, I finde you alwaies a most -honest Gentleman, and will be readie at any time, to doe you the like, -or a farre greater kindnesse; depart at your pleasure, and feare not -the crossing of my Booke. So _Gulfardo_ went away merrily contented, and -_Ambrosia_ was served as she justly merited; she paying the price of -her owne leudnesse to her Husband, which she had a more covetous intent -to keepe, questionlesse, not caring how many like lustfull matches shee -coulde make, to be so liberally rewarded, if this had succeeded to her -minde: whereas he shewed himselfe wise and discreete, in paying nothing -for his pleasure, and requiting a covetous queane in her kinde. - - - - -_A lustie youthfull Priest of_ Varlungo, _fell in love with a pretty -woman, named_ Monna Belcolore. _To compasse his amorous desire, hee -lefte his Cloake (as a pledge of further payment) with her. By a -subtile sleight afterward, he made meanes to borrow a Morter of her, -which when hee sent home againe in the presence of her Husband; he -demaunded to have his Cloake sent him, as having left it in pawne for -the Morter. To pacifie her Husband, offended that shee did not lend -the Priest the Morter without a pawne: she sent him backe his Cloake -againe, albeit greatly against her will._ - -The Second Novell. - -_Approving, that no promise is to be kept with such Women as will make -sale of their honesty for coyne. A warning also for men, not to suffer -Priests to be over familiar with their wives._ - - -Both the Gentlemen and Ladies gave equall commendations, of -_Gulfardoes_ queint beguiling the _Millaine_ Gentlewoman _Ambrosia_, -and wishing all other (of her minde) might alwaies be so served. Then -the Queene, smiling on _Pamphilus_, commaunded him to follow next: -whereupon, thus he began. - -I can tell you (faire Ladies) a short Novell, against such as are -continually offensive to us, yet we being no way able to offend him; -at least, in the same manner as they do injurie us. And for your better -understanding what and who they be, they are our lusty Priests, who -advance their Standard, and make their publike predications against -our wives, winning such advantage over them, that they can pardon them -both of the sinne and punishment, whensoever they are once subjected -unto theyr perswasions, even as if they brought the Soldane bound and -captived, from _Alexandria_ to _Avignon_. Which imperious power, we -(poore soules) cannot exercise on them, considering, we have neither -heart nor courage, to do our devoire in just revenge on their Mothers, -Sisters, Daughters, and Friends, with the like spirit as they rise in -armes against our wives. And therefore, I meant to tell you a tale of -a Country mans wife, more to make you laugh at the conclusion thereof; -then for any singularity of words or matter: yet this benefite you may -gaine thereby, of an apparant proofe that such Sinamon, amorous and -perswading Priests, are not alwayes to be credited on their words or -promises. - -Let me then tell you, that at _Varlungo_, which you know to bee not -farre distant hence, there dwelt an youthfull Priest, lustie, gallant, -and proper of person (especially for Womens service) commonly called -by the name of sweet Sir _Simon_. Now, albeit he was a man of slender -reading, yet notwithstanding, he had store of Latine sentences by -heart; some true, but twice so many maimed and false, Saint-like -shewes, holy speeches, and ghostly admonitions, which hee would preach -under an Oake in the fields, when he had congregated his Parishioners -together. When women lay in childe-bed, hee was their daily comfortable -visitant, and would man them from their houses, when they had any -occasion to walke abroad: carrying alwaies a bottle of holy water about -him, wherewith he would sprinkle them by the way, peeces of hallowed -Candles, and Chrisome Cakes, which pleased women extraordinarily, and -all the Country affoorded not such another frolicke Priest, as this our -nimble and active sweet Sir _Simon_. - -Among many other of his feminine Parishioners, all of them being -hansome and comely Women: yet there was one more pleasing in his wanton -eye, then any of the rest, named _Monna Belcolore_, and wife to a -plaine mecanicke man, called _Bentivegna del Mazzo_. And, to speake -uprightly, few Countrey Villages yeelded a Woman, more fresh and lovely -of complexion, although not admirable for beauty, yet sweete Sir -_Simon_ thought her a Saint, and faine would be offering at her shrine. -Divers prety pleasing qualities she had, as sounding the Cymball, -playing artificially on the Timbrill, and singing thereto as it had -beene a Nightingale, dancing also so dexteriously, as happy was the -man that could dance in her company. All which so enflamed sweet Sir -_Simon_, that he lost his wonted sprightly behaviour, walked sullen, -sad and melancholly, as if he had melted all his mettall, because hee -could hardly have a sight of her. But on the Sonday morning, when hee -heard or knew that she was in the Church, hee would tickle it with a -_Kyrie_ and a _Sanctus_, even as if hee contended to shewe his singular -skill in singing, when it had beene as good to heare an Asse bray. -Whereas on the contrary, when she came not to Church, Masse, and all -else were quicklie shaken uppe, as if his devotion waited onely on -her presence. Yet he was so cunning in the carriage of his amorous -businesse, both for her credite and his owne; as _Bentivegna_ her -husband could not perceive it, or any neighbour so much as suspect it. - -But, to compasse more familiar acquaintance with _Belcolore_, hee sent -her sundry gifts and presents, day by day, as sometime a bunch of -dainty greene Garlicke, whereof he had plenty growing in his Garden, -which he manured with his owne hands, and better then all the countrey -yeelded; otherwhiles a small basket of Pease or Beanes, and Onyons or -Scallions, as the season served. But when he could come in place where -she was; then he darted amourous wincks and glances at her, with becks, -nods, and blushes, Loves private Ambassadours, which shee (being but -countrey-bred) seeming by outward appearance, not to see, retorted -disdainefully, and forthwith would absent her selfe, so that sweet Sir -_Simon_ laboured still in vaine, and could not compasse what he coveted. - -It came to passe within a while after, that on a time, (about -high noone) Sir _Simon_ being walking abroad, chanced to meete -with _Bentivegna_, driving an Asse before him, laden with divers -commodities, and demaunding of him, whither he went, _Bentivegna_, thus -answered. In troth Sir _Simon_, I am going to the City, about some -especiall businesse of mine owne, and I carry these things to Signior -_Bonacorci da Cinestreto_, because he should helpe me before the Judge, -when I shall be called in question concerning my patrimony. Sir _Simon_ -looking merrily on him, said. Thou doest well _Bentivegna_, to make a -friend sure before thou need him; goe, take my blessing with thee, and -returne againe with good successe. But if thou meet with _Laguccio_, -or _Naldino_, forget not to tell them, that they must bring me my -shooe-tyes before Sunday. _Bentivegna_ said, hee would discharge his -errand, and so parted from him, driving his Asse on towards _Florence_. - -Now began Sir _Simon_ to shrug, and scratch his head, thinking this -to be a fit convenient time, for him to goe visite _Belcolore_, and -to make triall of his fortune: wherefore, setting aside all other -businesse, he stayed no where till he came to the house, whereinto -being entred, he saide: All happinesse be to them that dwell heere. -_Belcolore_ being then above in the Chamber, when she heard his tongue, -replyed. Sweet Sir _Simon_! you are heartely welcome, whether are you -walking, if the question may bee demaunded? Beleeve me dainty Ducke, -answered Sir _Simon_, I am come to sit a while with thee, because I met -thy Husband going to the Citie. By this time, _Belcolore_ was descended -downe the stayres, and having once againe given welcome to Sir _Simon_, -she sate downe by him, cleansing of Colewort seeds from such other -course chaffe, which her Husband had prepared before his departure. - -Sir _Simon_ hugging her in his armes, and fetching a vehement sigh, -said. My _Belcolore_, how long shall I pine and languish for thy love? -How now Sir _Simon_? answered she, is this behaviour fitting for an -holy man? Holy-men _Belcolore_, (quoth Sir _Simon_) are made of the -same matter as others be, they have the same affections, and therefore -subject to their infirmities. Santa Maria, answered _Belcolore_, Dare -Priests doe such things as you talke of? Yes _Belcolore_ (quoth he) and -much better then other men can, because they are made for the very best -businesse, in which regard they are restrained from marriage. True -(quoth _Belcolore_) but much more from medling with other mens wives. -Touch not that Text _Belcolore_, replyed Sir _Simon_, it is somewhat -above your capacity: talke of that I come for, namely thy love, my -Ducke, and my Dove. Sir _Simon_ is thine, I pray thee be mine. - -_Belcolore_ observing his smirking behaviour, his proper person, pretty -talke, and queint insinuating; felt a motion to female frailty, which -yet she would withstand so long as she could, and not be over-hasty in -her yeelding. Sir _Simon_ promiseth her a new paire of shoes, garters, -ribbands, girdles, or what else she would request. Sir _Simon_ (quoth -she) all these things which you talke of, are fit for women: but if -your love to mee be such as you make choice of, fulfill what I will -motion to you, and then (perhaps) I shall tell you more. Sir _Simons_ -heate made him hasty to promise whatsoever she would desire; whereupon, -thus shee replyed. On Saturday, said she, I must goe to _Florence_, -to carry home such yarne as was sent me to spinne, and to amend my -spinning wheele: if you will lend mee ten Florines, wherewith I know -you are alwayes furnished, I shall redeeme from the Usurer my best -petticote,** and my wedding gowne (both well neere lost for lacke of -repaiment) without which I cannot be seene at Church, or in any other -good place else, and then afterward other matters may be accomplished. - -Alas sweet _Belcolore_ answered Sir _Simon_, I never beare any such -sum about me, for men of our profession, doe seldome carry any money -at all: but beleeve me on my word, before Saturday come, I will not -faile to bring them hither. Oh Sir (quoth _Belcolore_) you men are -quicke promisers, but slow performers. Doe you thinke to use me, as -poore _Billezza_ was, who trusted to as faire words, and found her -selfe deceived? Now Sir _Simon_, her example in being made scandall to -the world, is a sufficient warning for me: if you be not so provided, -goe and make use of your friend, for I am not otherwise to be moved. -Nay _Belcolore_ (quoth he) I hope you will not serve me so, but my -word shall be of better worth with you. Consider the conveniency of -time, wee being so privately here alone: whereas at my returning hither -againe, some hinderance may thwart me, and the like opportunity be -never obtained. Sir, Sir, (said she) you have heard my resolution; -if you will fetche the Florines, doe; otherwise, walke about your -businesse, for I am a woman of my word. - -Sir _Simon_ perceiving, that she would not trust him upon bare words, -nor any thing was to be done, without _Salvum me fac_, whereas his -meaning was _Sine custodia_; thus answered. Well _Belcolore_, seeing -you dare not credit my bringing the tenne Florines, according to my -promised day: I will leave you a good pawne, my very best cloake, lyned -quite thorough with rich Silke, and made up in the choysest manner. - -_Belcolore_ looking on the Cloake, said. How much may this Cloake bee -worth? How much? quoth Sir _Simon_, upon my word _Belcolore_, it is -of a right fine Flanders Serdge, and not above eight dayes since, I -bought it thus (ready made) of _Lotto_ the Fripperer, and payed for it -sixe and twenty Florines, a pledge then sufficient for your ten. Is it -possible, said shee, that it should cost so much? Well, Sir _Simon_, -deliver it me first, I will lay it up safe for you against Saturday, -when if you fetch it not; I will redeeme mine owne things with it, and -leave you to release it your selfe. - -The Cloake is laid up by _Belcolore_, and Sir _Simon_ so forward in his -affection; that (in briefe) he enjoyed what hee came for; and departed -afterward in his light tripping Cassocke, but yet thorow by-Lanes, -and no much frequented places, smelling on a Nosegay, as if hee had -beene at some wedding in the Countrey, and went thus lightly without -his Cloake, for his better ease. As commonly after actions of evill, -Repentance knocketh at the doore of Conscience, and urgeth a guilty -remembrance, with some sence of sorrow: so was it now with sweet Sir -_Simon_, who survaying over all his Vailes of offering Candles, the -validity of his yearely benefits, and all comming nothing neere the -summe of (scarce halfe) sixe and twenty Florines; he began to repent -his deed of darkenesse, although it was acted in the day-time, and -considered with himselfe, by what honest (yet unsuspected meanes) hee -might recover his Cloake againe, before it went to the Broaker, in -redemption of _Belcolores_ pawned apparrell, and yet to send her no -Florines neither. - -Having a cunning reaching wit, especially in matters for his owne -advantage, and pretending to have a dinner at his lodging, for a few -of some invited friends: he made use of a neighbours Boy, sending him -to the house of _Belcolore_, with request of lending him her Stone -Morter, to make Greene-sawce in for his guests, because hee had meate -required such sawce. _Belcolore_ suspecting no treachery, sent him the -Stone Morter with the Pestell, and about dinner time, when he knew -_Bentivegna_ to bee at home with his wife, by a spye which was set for -the purpose; hee called the Clearke (usually attending on him) and -said. Take this Morter and Pestell, beare them home to _Belcolore_, -and tell her: Sir _Simon_ sends them home with thankes, they having -sufficiently served his turne, and desire her likewise, to send me my -Cloake, which the Boy left as a pledge for better remembrance, and -because she would not lend it without a pawne. - -The Clearke comming to the house of _Belcolore_, found her sitting at -dinner with her Husband, and delivering her the Pestell and Morter, -performed the rest of Sir _Simons_ message. _Belcolore_ hearing the -Cloake demaunded, stept up to make answere: But _Bentivegna_, seeming -(by his lookes) to be much offended, roughly replyed. Why how now wife? -Is not Sir _Simon_ our especiall friend, and cannot be be pleasured -without a pawne? I protest upon my word, I could find in my heart to -smite thee for it. Rise quickely thou wert best, and send him backe his -Cloake; with this warning hereafter, that whatsoever he will have, be -it your poore Asse, or any thing else being ours, let him have it: and -tell him (Master Clearke) he may command it. _Belcolore_ rose grumbling -from the Table, and fetching the Cloake forth of the Chest, which stood -neere at hand in the same roome; shee delivered it to the Clearke, -saying. Tell Sir _Simon_ from me, and boldly say you heard me speake -it: that I made a vow to my selfe, he shall never make use of my Morter -hereafter, to beat any more of his sawcinesse in, let my Husband say -whatsoever he will, I speake the word, and will performe it. - -Away went the Clearke home with the Cloake, and told Sir _Simon_ what -she had said, whereto he replyed. If I must make use of her Morter no -more; I will not trust her with the keeping of my Cloake, for feare it -goe to gage indeed. - -_Bentivegna_ was a little displeased at his wives words, because hee -thought she spake but in jest; albeit _Belcolore_ was so angry with Sir -_Simon_, that she would not speake to him till vintage time following. -But then Sir _Simon_, what by sharpe threatenings of her soule to be -in danger of hell fire, continuing so long in hatred of a holy Priest, -which words did not a little terrifie her; besides daily presents to -her, of sweet new Wines, roasted Chesse-nuts, Figges and Almonds: all -unkindnesse became converted to former familiarity; the garments were -redeemed; he gave her Sonnets which she would sweetly sing to her -Cimbale, and further friendship increased betweene her and sweet Sir -_Simon._ - - - - -Calandrino, Bruno, _and_ Buffalmaco, _all of them being Painters by -profession, travelled to the Plaine of_ Mugnone, _to finde the precious -Stone called_ Helitropium. Calandrino _perswaded himselfe to have found -it; returned home to his house heavily loaden with stones. His Wife -rebuking him for his absence, hee groweth into anger, and shrewdly -beateth her. Afterward, when the case is debated among his other -friends_ Bruno _and_ Buffalmaco, _all is found to be meere foolery._ - -The Third Novell. - -_Justly reprehending the simplicity of such men, as are too much -addicted to credulitie, and will give credit to every thing they heare._ - - -_Pamphilus_ having ended his Novell, whereat the Ladies laughed -exceedingly, so that very hardly they could give over: The Queene gave -charge to Madame _Eliza_, that shee should next succeed in order; when, -being scarcely able to refraine from smyling, thus she began. - -I know not (Gracious Ladies) whether I can move you to as hearty -laughter, with a briefe Novell of mine owne, as _Pamphilus_ lately did -with his: yet I dare assure you, that it is both true and pleasant, and -I will relate it in the best manner I can. - -In our owne Citie, which evermore hath contained all sorts of people, -not long since there dwelt, a Painter, named _Calandrino_, a simple -man; yet as much addicted** to matters of novelty, as any man whatsoever -could be. The most part of his time, he spent in the company of two -other Painters, the one called _Bruno_, and the other _Buffalmaco_, -men of very recreative spirits, and of indifferent good capacity; -often resorting to the said _Calandrino_, because they tooke delight -in his honest simplicity, and pleasant order of behaviour. At the same -time likewise, there dwelt in _Florence_, a yong Gentleman of singular -disposition, to every generous and witty conceite, as the world did -not yeeld a more pleasant companion, he being named _Maso del Saggio_, -who having heard somwhat of _Calandrinos_ sillinesse: determined to -jest with him in merry manner, and to suggest his longing humours after -Novelties, with some conceit of extraordinary nature. - -He happening (on a day) to meete him in the Church of Saint _John_, -and seeing him seriously busied, in beholding the rare pictures, and -the curious carved Tabernacle, which (not long before) was placed on -the high Altar in the said Church: considered with himselfe, that he -had now fit place and opportunity, to effect what hee had long time -desired. And having imparted his minde to a very intimate friend, how -he intended to deale with simple _Calandrino_: they went both very -neere him, where he sate all alone, and making shew as if they saw -him not; began to consult between themselves, concerning the rare -properties of precious stones; whereof _Maso_ discoursed as exactly, -as he had beene a most skilfull Lapidarie; to which conference of -theirs, _Calandrino_ lent an attentive eare, in regard it was matter of -singular rarity. - -Soone after, _Calandrino_ started up, and perceiving by their loude -speaking, that they talked of nothing which required secret Counsell: -he went into their company (the onely thing which _Maso_ desired) and -holding on still the former Argument; _Calandrino_ would needs request -to know, in what place these precious stones were to be found, which -had such excellent vertues in them? _Maso_ made answere, that the most -of them were to be had in _Berlinzona_, neere to the City of _Bascha_, -which was in the Territory of a Countrey, called _Bengodi_, where the -Vines were bound about with Sawcidges, a Goose was sold for a penny, -and the Goslings freely given in to boote. There was also an high -mountaine, wholly made of _Parmezane_, grated Cheese, whereon dwelt -people, who did nothing else but make _Mocharones_ and _Raviuolies_, -boiling them with broth of Capons, and afterward hurled them all about, -to whosoever can or will catch them. Neere to this mountaine runneth a -faire River, the whole streame being pure white Bastard, none such was -ever sold for any money, and without one drop of water in it. - -Now trust me Sir, (said _Calandrino_) that is an excellent Countrey to -dwell in: but I pray you tell me Sir, what doe they with the Capons -after they have boyld them? The _Baschanes_ (quoth _Maso_) eate them -all. Have you Sir, said _Calandrino_, at any time beene in that -Countrey? How? answered _Maso_, doe you demaund if I have beene there? -Yes man, above a thousand times, at the least. How farre Sir, I pray -you (quoth _Calandrino_) is that worthy Countrey, from this our City? -In troth replyed _Maso_, the miles are hardly to be numbred, for the -most part of them we travell when we are nightly in our beddes, and if -a man dreame right; he may be there upon a sudden. - -Surely Sir, said _Calandrino_, it is further hence, then to _Abruzzi_? -Yes questionlesse, replyed _Maso_; but, to a willing minde, no travell -seemeth tedious. - -_Calandrino_ well noting, that _Maso_ delivered all these speeches, -with a stedfast countenance, no signe of smyling, or any gesture to -urge the least mislike: he gave such credit to them, as to any matter -of apparent and manifest truth, and upon this assured confidence, he -said. - -Beleeve me Sir, the journey is over-farre for mee to undertake, but if -it were neerer; I could affoord to goe in your Company; onely to see -how they make these _Macherones_, and to fill my belly with them. - -But now wee are in talke Sir, I pray you pardon mee to aske, whether -any such precious stones, as you spake off, are to be found in that -Countrey, or no? Yes indeed, replyed _Maso_, there are two kinds of -them to be found in those Territories, both being of very great vertue. -One kind, are gritty stones, of _Settignano_, and of _Montisca_, by -vertue of which places, when any Mill-stones or Grind-stones are to -bee made, they knede the sand as they use to doe meale, and so make -them of what bignesse they please. In which respect, they have have a -common saying there: that Nature maketh common stones, but _Montisca_ -Mill-stones. Such plenty are there of these Mill-stones, so slenderly -here esteemed among us, as Emeralds are with them, whereof they have -whole mountaines, farre greater then our _Montemorello_, which shine -most gloriously at midnight. And how meanly soever we account of their -Mill-stones; yet there they drill them, and enchase them in Rings, -which afterward they send to the great Soldane, and have whatsoever -they will demaund for them. - -The other kinde is a most precious Stone indeede, which our best -Lapidaries call the _Helitropium_, the vertue whereof is so admirable; -as whosoever beareth it about him, so long as he keepeth it, it is -impossible for any eye to discerne him, because he walketh meerely -invisible. O Lord Sir (quoth _Calandrino_) these stones are of rare -vertue indeede: but where else may a man finde that _Helitropium_? -Whereto _Maso_ thus answered: That Countrey onely doth not containe -the _Helitropium_; for they be many times found upon our plaine of -_Mugnone_. Of what bignesse Sir (quoth _Calandrino_) is the Stone, and -what coulour? The _Helitropium_, answered _Maso_, is not alwayes of one -quality, because some are bigge, and others lesse; but all are of one -coulour, namely blacke. - -_Calandrino_ committing all these things to respective memory, and -pretending to be called thence by some other especiall affaires; -departed from _Maso_, concluding resolvedly with himselfe, to finde -this precious stone, if possibly hee could: yet intending to doe -nothing, untill hee had acquainted _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_ therewith, -whom he loved dearly: he went in all hast to seeke them; because, -(without any longer trifling the time) they three might bee the first -men, that should find out this precious stone, spending almost the -whole morning, before they were all three met together. For they were -painting at the Monastery of the Sisters of _Faenza_, where they had -very serious imployment, and followed their businesse diligently: -where having found them, and saluting them in such kinde manner, as -continually he used to doe, thus he began. - -Loving friends, if you were pleased to follow mine advise, wee three -will quickely be the richest men in _Florence_; because, by information -from a Gentleman (well deserving to be credited) on the Plaine of -_Mugnone_: there is a precious stone to be found, which whosoever -carrieth it about him, walketh invisible, and is not to be seene by -any one. Let us three be the first men to goe and finde it, before any -other heare thereof, and goe about it, and assure our selves that we -shall finde it, for I know it (by discription) so soone as I see it. -And when wee have it, who can hinder us from bearing it about us. Then -will we goe to the Tables of our Bankers, or money changers, which we -see daily charged with plenty of gold and silver, where we may take so -much as wee list, for they (nor any) are able to descrie us. So, (in -short time) shall wee all be wealthy, never needing to drudge any more, -or paint muddy walles, as hitherto we have done; and, as many of our -poore profession are forced to doe. - -_Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_ hearing this, began to smile, and looking -merrily each on other, they seemed to wonder thereat, and greatly -commended the counsell of _Calandrino. Buffalmaco_ demaunding how the -stone was named. Now it fortuned, that _Calandrino_ (who had but a -grosse and blockish memory) had quite forgot the name of the stone, and -therefore said. What neede have wee of the name, when we know, and are -assured of the stones vertue? Let us make no more adoe, but (setting -aside all other businesse) goe seeke where it is to be found. Well my -friend (answered _Bruno_) you say wee may find it, but how, and by what -meanes? - -There are two sorts of them (quoth _Calandrino_) some bigge, others -smaller, but all carry a blacke colour: therefore (in mine opinion) let -us gather all such stones as are blacke, so shall we be sure to finde -it among them, without any further losse of time. - -_Buffalmaco_ and _Bruno_, liked and allowed the counsell of -_Calandrino_, which when they had (by severall commendations) given him -assurance of, _Bruno_ saide. I doe not thinke it a convenient time now, -for us to go about so weighty a businesse: for the Sun is yet in the -highest degree, and striketh such a heate on the plaine of _Mugnone_, -as all the stones are extreamly dryed, and the very blackest will -nowe seeme whitest. But in the morning, after the dew is falne, and -before the Sunne shineth forth, every stone retaineth his true colour. -Moreover, there be many Labourers now working on the plaine, about such -businesse as they are severally assigned, who seeing us in so serious -a search:** may imagine what we seeke for, & partake with us in the same -inquisition, by which meanes they may chance to speed before us, and so -wee may lose both our trot and amble. Wherefore, by my consent, if your -opinion jumpe with mine, this is an enterprise onely to be perfourmed -in an early morning, when the blacke stones are to be distinguisht from -the white, and a Festivall day were the best of all other, for then -there will be none to discover us. - -_Buffalmaco_ applauded the advice of _Bruno_, and _Calandrino_ -did no lesse, concluding all together; that Sunday morning (next -ensuing) should be the time, and then they all three would go seeke -the Stone. But _Calandrino_ was verie earnest with them, that they -shold not reveale it to any living body, because it was tolde him as -an especiall secret: disclosing further to them, what hee had heard -concerning the Countrey of _Bengodi_, maintaining (with solemn oaths -and protestations) that every part thereof was true. Uppon this -agreement, they parted from _Calandrino_, who hardly enjoyed anie rest -at all, either by night or day, so greedie he was to bee possessed of -the stone. On the Sonday morning, hee called up his Companions before -breake of day, and going forth at S. _Galls_ Port, they stayed not, -till they came to the plaine of _Mugnone_, where they searched all -about to finde this strange stone. - -_Calandrino_ went stealing before the other two, and verilie perswaded -himselfe, that he was borne to finde the _Helitropium_, and looking -on every side about him, hee rejected all other Stones but the -blacke, whereof first he filled his bosome, and afterwards, both -his Pockets. Then he tooke off his large painting Apron, which he -fastened with his girdle in the manner of a sacke, and that he filled -full of stones likewise. Yet not so satisfied, he spred abroad his -Cloake, which being also full of stones, hee bound it up carefully, -for feare of loosing the very least of them. All which _Buffalmaco_ -and _Bruno_ well observing (the day growing on, and hardly they could -reach home by dinner time) according as merrily they had concluded, -and pretending not to see _Calandrino_, albeit he was not farre from -them: What is become of _Calandrino_? saide _Buffalmaco. Bruno_ gazing -strangely every where about him, as if hee were desirous to finde him, -replyed. I saw him not long since, for then he was hard by before us; -questionlesse, he hath given us the slippe, is privilie gone home to -dinner, and making starke fooles of us, hath lefte us to picke up -blacke stones, upon the parching plaines of _Mugnone_. Well (quoth -_Buffalmaco_) this is but the tricke of an hollow-hearted friend, and -not such as he protested himselfe to be, to us. Could any but wee -have bin so sottish, to credit his frivolous perswasions, hoping to -finde any stones of such vertue, and here on the fruitlesse plains of -_Mugnone_? No, no, none but we would have beleeved him. - -_Calandrino_ (who was close by them) hearing these wordes, and seeing -the whole manner of their wondering behaviour: became constantly -perswaded, that hee had not onely founde the precious stone; but also -had some store of them about him, by reason he was so neere to them, -and yet they could not see him, therefore he walked before them. Now -was his joy beyond all compasse of expression, and being exceedingly -proud of so happy an adventure: did not meane to speake one word to -them, but (heavily laden as hee was) to steale home faire and softly -before them, which indeede he did, leaving them to follow after, if -they would. _Bruno_ perceiving his intent, said to _Buffalmaco_: What -remaineth now for us to doe? Why should not we go home, as well as hee? -And reason too, replyed _Bruno_, It is in vaine to tarry any longer -heere: but I solemnly protest, _Calandrino_ shall no more make an Asse -of me: and were I now as neere him, as not long since I was, I would -give him such a remembrance on the heele with this Flint stone, as -should sticke by him this moneth, to teach him a lesson for abusing his -friends. - -Hee threw the stone, and hit him shrewdly on the heele therewith; but -all was one to _Calandrino_, whatsoever they saide, or did, as thus -they still followed after him. And although the blow of the stone was -painfull to him; yet he mended his pace so wel as he was able, in -regard of beeing over-loaden with stones, and gave them not one word -all the way, because he tooke himselfe to bee invisible, and utterly -unseene of them. _Buffalmaco_ taking uppe another Flint-stone, which -was indifferent heavie and sharp, said to _Bruno_. Seest thou this -Flint? Casting it from him, he smote _Calandrino_ just in the backe -therewith, saying. Oh that _Calandrino_ had bin so neere, as I might -have hit him on the backe with the stone. And thus all the way on the -plaine of _Mugnone_, they did nothing else but pelt him with stones, -even so farre as the Port of S. _Gall_, where they threwe downe what -other stones they had gathered, meaning not to molest him any more, -because they had done enough already. - -There they stept before him unto the Port, and acquainted the Warders -with the whole matter, who laughing heartily at the jest, the better to -upholde it; would seeme not to see _Calandrino_ in his passage by them, -but suffered him to go on, sore wearied with his burthen, and sweating -extreamly. Without resting himselfe in any place, he came home to his -house, which was neere to the corner of the Milles, Fortune being so -favourable to him in the course of this mockery, that as he passed -along the Rivers side, and afterward through part of the City; he was -neither met nor seen by any, in regard they were all in their houses at -dinner. - -_Calandrino_, every minute ready to sinke under his weightie burthen, -entred into his owne house, where (by great ill luck) his wife, being -a comely and very honest woman, and named _Monna Trista_, was standing -aloft on the stayres head. She being somewhat angry for his so long -absence, and seeing him come in grunting and groaning, frowningly said. -I thought that the divell would never let thee come home, all the -whole Citie have dined, and yet wee must remaine without our dinner. -When _Calandrino_ heard this, & perceived that he was not invisible to -his Wife: full of rage and wroth, hee began to raile, saying. Ah thou -wicked woman, where art thou? Thou hast utterly undone me: but (as I -live) I will pay thee soundly for it. Up the staires he ascended into -a small Parlour, where when he hadde spred all his burthen of stones -on the floore: he ran to his wife, catching her by the haire of the -head, and throwing her at his feete; giving her so many spurns and -cruel blowes, as shee was not able to moove either armes or legges, -notwithstanding all her teares, and humble submission. - -Now _Buffalmaco_ and _Bruno_, after they had spent an indifferent -while, with the Warders at the Port in laughter; in a faire & gentle -pace, they followed _Calandrino_ home to his house, and being come to -the doore, they heard the harsh bickering betweene him and his Wife, -and seeming as if they were but newly arrived, they called out alowd -to him. _Calandrino_ being in a sweate, stamping and raving still at -his Wife: looking forth of the window, entreated them to ascend up to -him, which they did, counterfetting greevous displeasure against him. -Being come into the roome, which they saw all covered over with stones, -his Wife sitting in a corner, all the haire (well-neere) torne off her -head, her face broken and bleeding, and all her body cruelly beaten; on -the other side, _Calandrino_ standing unbraced and ungirded, strugling -and wallowing, like a man quite out of breath: after a little pausing, -_Bruno_ thus spake. - -Why how now _Calandrino_? What may the meaning of this matter be? -What, art thou preparing for building, that thou hast provided such -plenty of stones? How sitteth thy poore wife? How hast thou misused -her? Are these the behaviours of a wise or honest man? _Calandrino_, -utterly over-spent with travaile, and carrying such an huge burthen -of stones, as also the toylesome beating of his Wife, (but much more -impatient and offended, for that high good Fortune, which he imagined -to have lost:) could not collect his spirits together, to answer them -one ready word, wherefore hee sate fretting like a mad man. Whereupon, -_Buffalmaco_ thus began to him. _Calandrino_, if thou be angry with any -other, yet thou shouldest not have made such a mockery of us, as thou -hast done: in leaving us (like a couple of coxcombes) to the plaine of -_Mugnone_, whether thou leddest us with thee, to seeke a precious stone -called _Helitropium_. And couldst thou steale home, never bidding us so -much as farewell? How can we but take it in very evill part, that thou -shouldest so abuse two honest neighbours? Well, assure thy selfe, this -is the last time that ever thou shalt serve us so. - -_Calandrino_ (by this time) being somewhat better come to himselfe, -with an humble protestation of courtesie, returned them this answer. -Alas my good friends, be not you offended, the case is farre otherwise -then you immagine. Poore unfortunate man that I am, I found the rare -precious stone that you speake of: and marke me well, if I do not tell -you the truth of all. When you asked one another (the first time) what -was become of me; I was hard by you: at the most, within the distance -of two yards length; and perceiving that you saw mee not, (being still -so neere, and alwaies before you:) I went on, smiling to my selfe, to -heare you brabble and rage against me. - -So, proceeding on in his discourse, he recounted every accident as -it hapned, both what they had saide and did unto him, concerning -the severall blowes, with the two Flint-stones, the one hurting him -greevously in the heele, and the other paining him as extreamly in the -backe, with their speeches used then, and his laughter, notwithstanding -hee felt the harme of them both, yet beeing proud that he did so -invisibly beguile them. Nay more (quoth he) I cannot forbeare to tell -you, that when I passed thorow the Port, I saw you standing with the -Warders; yet, by vertue of that excellent Stone, undiscovered of -you all. Beside, going along the streets, I met many of my Gossips, -friends, and familiar acquaintance, such as used daylie to converse -with me, and drinking together in every Tavern: yet not one of them -spake to me, neyther used any courtesie or salutation; which (indeede) -I did the more freely forgive them, because they were not able to see -me. - -In the end of all, when I was come home into mine owne house, this -divellish and accursed woman, being aloft uppon my stayres head, by -much misfortune chanced to see me; in regard (as it is not unknowne -to you) that women cause all things to lose their vertue. In which -respect, I that could have stild my selfe the onely happy man in -_Florence_, am now made most miserable. And therefore did I justly -beate her, so long as she was able to stand against mee, and I know no -reason to the contrary, why I should not yet teare her in a thousand -peeces: for I may well curse the day of our mariage, to hinder and -bereave me of such an invisible blessednesse. - -_Buffalmaco_ and _Bruno_ hearing this, made shew of verie much -mervailing thereat, and many times maintained what _Calandrino_ had -said; being well neere ready to burst with laughter; considering, how -confidently he stood upon it, that he had found the wonderfull stone, -and lost it by his wives speaking onely to him. But when they saw him -rise in fury once more, with intent to beat her againe: then they stept -betweene them; affirming, That the woman had no way offended in this -case, but rather he himself: who knowing that women cause all things -to lose their vertue, had not therefore expresly commanded her, not to -be seene in his presence all that day, untill he had made full proofe -of the stones vertue. And questionles, the consideration of a matter -so availeable and important, was quite taken from him, because such -an especiall happinesse, should not belong to him only; but (in part) -to his friends, whom he had acquainted therewith, drew them to the -plaine with him in companie, where they tooke as much paines in search -of the stone, as possibly he did, or could; and yet (dishonestly) he -would deceive them, and beare it away covetously, for his owne private -benefit. - -After many other, as wise and wholesome perswasions, which he -constantly credited, because they spake them, they reconciled him to -his wife, and she to him: but not without some difficulty in him; who -falling into wonderfull greefe and melancholy, for losse of such an -admirable precious stone, was in danger to have dyed, within lesse then -a month after. - - - - -_The Provost belonging to the Cathedrall Church of_ Fiesola, _fell in -love with a Gentlewoman, being a widdow, and named_ Piccarda, _who -hated him as much as he loved her. He imagining, that he lay with her: -by the Gentlewomans Bretheren, and the Byshop under whom he served, was -taken in bed with her Mayde, an ugly, foule, deformed Slut._ - -The Fourth Novell. - -_Wherein is declared, how love oftentimes is so powerfull in aged men, -and driveth them to such doating, that it redoundeth to their great -disgrace and punishment._ - - -Ladie _Eliza_ having concluded her Novell, not without infinite -commendations of the whole company: the Queen turning her lookes to -Madame _Æmillia_, gave her such an expresse signe, as she must needs -follow next after Madame _Eliza_, whereupon she began in this manner. - -Vertuous Ladies, I very well remember (by divers Novels formerly -related) that sufficient hath beene sayde, concerning Priests and -Religious persons, and all other carrying shaven Crownes, in their -luxurious appetites and desires. But because no one can at any time say -so much, as thereto no more may be added: beside them alreadie spoken -of, I will tel you another concerning the Provost of a Cathedrall Church, -who would needes (in despight of all the world) love a Gentlewoman -whether she would or no: and therefore, in due chastisement both -unto his age and folly, she gave him such entertainment as he justly -deserved. - -It is not unknowne unto you all, that the Cittie of _Fiesola_, the -mountaine whereof we may very easily hither discerne, hath bene (in -times past) a very great and most ancient City: although at this day it -is well-neere all ruined: yet neverthelesse, it alwaies was, and yet -is a Byshops See, albeit not of the wealthiest. In the same Citie, and -no long while since, neere unto the Cathedrall Church, there dwelt a -Gentlewoman, being a Widdow, and commonlie there stiled by the name of -Madame _Piccarda_, whose house and inheritance was but small, wherewith -yet she lived very contentedly (having no wandering eye, or wanton -desires) and no company but her two Brethren, Gentlemen of especiall -honest and gracious disposition. - -This Gentlewoman, being yet in the flourishing condition of her time, -did ordinarily resort to the Cathedrall Church, in holie zeale, and -religious devotion; where the Provost of the place, became so enamored -of her, as nothing (but the sight of her) yeelded him any contentment. -Which fond affection of his, was forwarded with such an audacious and -bold carriage, as hee dared to acquaint her with his love, requiring -her enterchange of affection, and the like opinion of him, as he had of -her. True it is, that he was very farre entred into yeares, but yong -and lustie in his own proud conceite, presuming strangely beyond his -capacity, and thinking as well of his abilitie, as the youthfullest -gallant in the World could doe. Whereas (in verie deede) his person was -utterly displeasing, his behaviour immodest and scandalous, and his -usuall Language, favouring of such sensualitie, as, very fewe or none -cared for his company. And if any Woman seemed respective of him, it -was in regard of his outside and profession, and more for feare, then -the least affection, and alwayes as welcome to them, as the head-ake. - -His fond and foolish carriage still continuing to this Gentlewoman; -she being wise and vertuously advised, spake thus unto him. Holy Sir, -if you love me according as you protest, & manifest by your outward -behaviour: I am the more to thanke you for it, being bound in dutie -to love you likewise. But if your Love have any harshe or unsavourie -taste, which mine is no way able to endure, neyther dare entertaine in -anie kinde whatsoever: you must and shall hold mee excused, because I -am made of no such temper. You are my ghostly and spirituall Father, an -Holy Priest. Moreover, yeares have made you honorably aged; all which -severall weighty considerations, ought to confirme you in continency -& chastity. Remember withall (good sir) that I am but a child to you -in years, & were I bent to any wanton appetites, you shold justly -correct me by fatherly counsell, such as most beautifieth your sacred -profession. Beside, I am a Widdow, and you are not ignorant, how -requisite a thing honestie is in widdowes. Wherefore, pardon mee (Holy -Father:) for, in such manner as you make the motion: I desire you not -to love mee, because I neither can or will at any time so affect you. - -The Provoste gaining no other grace at this time, would not so give -over for this first repulse, but pursuing her still with unbeseeming -importunity; many private meanes he used to her by Letters, tokens, -and insinuating ambassages; yea, whensoever shee came to the Church, -he never ceased his wearisome solicitings. Whereat she growing greatly -offended, and perceyving no likelyhood of his desisting; became so -tyred with his tedious suite, that she considered with her selfe, -how she might dispatch him as he deserved, because she saw no other -remedy. Yet shee would not attempte anie thing in this case, without -acquainting her Bretheren first therewith. And having tolde them, how -much shee was importuned by the Provost, and also what course she meant -to take (wherein they both counselled and encouraged her:) within a few -daies after, shee went to Church as she was wont to do; where so soone -as the Provost espyed her: forthwith he came to her, and according to -his continued course, he fell into his amorous courting. She looking -upon him with a smiling countenance, and walking aside with him out -of any hearing: after he had spent many impertinent speeches, shee -(venting foorth manie a vehement sighe) at length returned him this -answer. - -Reverend Father, I have often heard it saide: That there is not any -Fort or Castle, how strongly munited soever it bee; but by continuall -assayling, at length (of necessity) it must and will be surprized. -Which comparison, I may full well allude to my selfe. For, you having -so long time solicited me, one while with affable language, then againe -with tokens and entisements, of such prevailing power: as have broken -the verie barricado of my former deliberation, and yeelded mee uppe as -your prisoner, to be commanded at your pleasure, for now I am onely -devoted yours. - -Well may you (Gentle Ladies) imagine, that this answere was not a -little welcome to the Provost; who, shrugging with conceyte of joy, -presently thus replyed. I thanke you Madame _Piccarda_, and to tell -you true, I held it almost as a miracle, that you could stand upon -such long resistance, considering, it never so fortuned to mee with -anie other. And I have many times saide to my selfe, that if women -were made of silver, they hardly could be worth a pennie, because -there can scarsely one be found of so good allay, as to endure the -test and essay. But let us breake off this frivolous conference, and -resolve upon a conclusion; How, when and where we may safely meete -together. Worthy Sir, answered _Piccarda_, your selfe may appoint the -time whensoever you please, because I have no Husband, to whom I should -render any account of my absence, or presence: but I am not provided of -any place. - -A pretty while the Provoste stood musing, and at last saide. A place -Madame? where can be more privacie, then in your owne house? Alas -Sir (quoth she) you know that I have two Gentlemen my brethren who -continually are with me, & other of their friends beside: My house also -is not great, wherefore it is impossible to be there, except you could -be like a dumbe man, without speaking one word, or making the very -least noyse; beside, to remaine in darkenesse, as if you were blinde, -and who can be able to endure all these? And yet (without these) there -is no adventuring, albeit they never come into my Chamber: but their -lodging is so close to mine, as there cannot any word be spoken, be it -never so low or in whispering manner, but they heare it very easily. -Madame said the Provoste, for one or two nights, I can make hard shift. -Why Sir (quoth she) the matter onely remaineth in you, for if you be -silent and suffering, as already you have heard, there is no feare at -all of safty. Let me alone Madame, replyed the Provoste, I will bee -governed by your directions: but, in any case, let us begin this night. -With all my heart, saide shee. So appointing him how and when hee -should come; hee parted from her, and shee returned home to her house. - -Heere I am to tell you, that this Gentlewoman had a servant, in the -nature of an old maide, not indued with any well featured face, but -instead thereof, she had the ugliest and most counterfeit countenance, -as hardly could be seene a worse. She had a wrie mouth, huge great -lippes, foule teeth, great and blacke, a monstrous stinking breath, her -eyes bleared, and alwayes running, the complexion of her face betweene -greene and yellow, as if shee had not spent the Summer season in the -Citie, but in the parching Countrey under a hedge; and beside all -these excellent parts, shee was crooke backt, poult footed, and went -like a lame Mare in Fetters. Her name was _Ciuta_, but in regard of -her flat nose, lying as low as a Beagles, shee was called _Ciutazza_. -Now, notwithstanding all this deformity in her, yet she had a singuler -opinion of her selfe, as commonly all such foule Sluts have: in regard -whereof, Madame _Piccarda_ calling her aside, Thus began. - -_Ciutazza_, if thou wilt doe for me one nights service, I shall bestow -on thee a faire new Smocke. When _Ciutazza_ heard her speake of a -new Smocke, instantly she answered. Madame, if you please to bestow -a new Smocke on me, were it to runne thorow the fire for you, or any -businesse of farre greater danger, you onely have the power to command -me, and I will doe it. I will not (said _Piccarda_) urge thee to any -dangerous action, but onely to lodge in my bed this night with a man, -and give him courteous entertainement, who shall reward thee liberally -for it. But have an especiall care that thou speake not one word, for -feare thou shouldst be heard by my Brethren, who (as thou knowest) -lodge so neere by: doe this, and then demaund thy Smocke of me. Madame -(quoth _Ciutazza_) if it were to lye with sixe men, rather then one; if -you say the word, it shall be done. - -When night was come, the Provoste also came according to appointment, -even when the two brethren were in their lodging, where they easily -heard his entrance, as _Piccarda_ (being present with them) had -informed them. In went the Provoste without any candle, or making the -least noise to be heard, & being in _Piccardaes_ Chamber, went to -bed: _Ciutazza_ tarrying not long from him, but (as her Mistresse had -instructed her) she went to bed likewise, not speaking any word at -all, and the Provoste, imagining to have her there, whom he so highly -affected, fell to imbracing and kissing _Ciutazza_, who was as forward -in the same manner to him, and there for a while I intend to leave them. - -When _Piccarda_ had performed this hot piece of businesse, she referred -the effecting of the remainder to her Brethren, in such sort as it was -compacted betweene them. Faire and softly went the two brethren forth -of their Chamber, and going to the Market place, Fortune was more -favourable to them then they could wish, in accomplishing the issue -of their intent. For the heat being somwhat tedious, the Lord Bishop -was walking abroad very late, with purpose to visit the Brethren at -the Widdowes house, because he tooke great delight in their company, -as being good Schollers, and endued with other singular parts beside. -Meeting with them in the open Market place, he acquainted them with his -determination; whereof they were not a little joyfull, it jumping so -justly with their intent. - -Being come to the Widdowes house, they passed through a small nether -Court, where lights stood ready to welcome him thither; and entring -into a goodly Hall, there was store of good wine and banquetting, which -the Bishop accepted in very thankefull manner: and courteous complement -being overpassed, one of the Brethren, thus spake. My good Lord, seeing -it hath pleased you to honour our poore Widdowed Sisters house with -your presence, for which wee shall thanke you while we live: We would -intreate one favour more of you, onely but to see a sight which we will -shew you. The Lord Bishop was well contented with the motion: so the -Brethren conducting him by the hand, brought him into their Sisters -Chamber, where the the Provoste was in bed with _Ciutazza_, both -soundly sleeping, but enfolded in his armes, as wearied (belike) with -their former wantonning, and whereof his age had but little need. - -The Courtaines being close drawne about the bed, although the season -was exceeding hot, they having lighted Torches in their hands; drew -open the Curtaines, and shewed the Bishop his Provoste, close snugging -betweene the armes of _Ciutazza_. Upon a sudden the Provoste awaked, -and seeing so great a light, as also so many people about him: shame -and feare so daunted him, that hee shrunke downe into the bed, and hid -his head. But the Bishop being displeased at a sight so unseemely, made -him to discover his head againe, to see whom he was in bed withall. Now -the poore Provoste perceiving the Gentlewomans deceite, and the proper -hansome person so sweetly embracing him: it made him so confounded with -shame, as he had not the power to utter one word: but having put on his -cloathes by the Bishops command, hee sent him (under sufficient guard) -to his Pallace, to suffer due chastisement for his sinne committed; and -afterward he desired to know, by what meanes hee became so favoured of -_Ciutazza_, the whole Historie whereof, the two brethren related at -large to him. - -When the Bishop had heard all the discourse, highly he commended the -wisedome of the Gentlewoman, and worthy assistance of her brethren, -who contemning to soile their hands in the blood of a Priest, rather -sought to shame him as hee deserved. The Bishop enjoyned him a pennance -of repentance for forty dayes after, but love and disdaine made him -weepe nine and forty: Moreover, it was a long while after, before he -durst be seene abroad. But when he came to walke the streets, the Boyes -would point their fingers at him, saying. Behold the Provoste that -lay with _Ciutazza_: Which was such a wearisome life to him, that he -became (well neere) distracted in his wits. In this manner the honest -Gentlewoman discharged her dutie, and rid her selfe of the Provosts -importunity: _Ciutazza_ had a merry night of it, and a new Smocke also -for her labour. - - - - -_Three pleasant Companions, plaide a merry pranke with a Judge -(belonging to the Marquesate of_ Ancona) _at_ Florence, _at such time -as he sate on the Bench, and hearing criminall causes._ - -The Fift Novell. - -_Giving admonition, that for the mannaging of publique affaires, no -other persons are or ought to be appointed, but such as be honest, and -meet to sit on the seate of Authority._ - - -No sooner had Madam _Æmillia_ finished her Novell, wherein, the -excellent wisedome of _Piccarda_, for so worthily punishing the -luxurious old Provoste, had generall commendations of the whole -Assembly: but the Queene, looking on _Philostratus_, said. I command -you next to supply the place: whereto he made answere, that hee was -both ready and willing, and then thus began. Honourable Ladies, the -merry Gentleman, so lately remembred by Madame _Eliza_, being named -_Maso del Saggio_; causeth me to passe over an intended Tale, which I -had resolved on when it came to my turne: to report another concerning -him, and two men more, his friendly Companions, which although it may -appeare to you somewhat unpleasing, in regard of a little grosse and -unmannerly behavior: yet it will move merriment without any offence, -and that is the maine reason why I relate it. - -It is not unknowne to you, partly by intelligence from our reverend -predecessours, as also some understanding of your owne, that many time -have resorted to our City of _Florence_, Potestates and Officers, -belonging to the Marquesate of _Anconia_; who commonly were men of -lowe spirit, and their lives so wretched and penurious, as they rather -deserved to be tearmed Misers, then men. And in regard of this their -naturall covetousnesse and misery, the Judges would bring also in -their company, such Scribes or Notaries, as being paralelde with their -Masters: they all seemed like Swaines come from the Plough, or bred up -in some Coblers quality, rather then Schollers, or Students of Law. - -At one time (above all the rest) among other Potestates and Judges, -there came an especiall man, as pickt out of purpose, who was named -_Messer Niccolao da San Lepidio_, who (at the first beholding) looked -rather like a Tinker, then any Officer in authority. This hansome -man (among the rest) was deputed to heare criminall causes. And, as -often it happeneth, that Citizens, although no businesse inviteth -them to Judiciall Courts, yet they still resort thither, sometimes -accidentally: So it fortuned, that _Maso del Saggio_, being one morning -in search of an especiall friend, went to the Court-house, and being -there, observed in what manner _Messer Niccolao_ was seated; who -looking like some strange Fowle, lately come forth of a farre Countrey; -he began to survay him the more seriously, even from the head to the -foot, as we use to say. - -And albeit he saw his Gowne furred with Miniver, as also the hood about -his necke, a Penne and Inkehorne hanging at his girdle, and one skirt -of his Garment longer then the other, with more misshapen sights about -him, farre unfitting for a man of so civill profession: yet he spyed -one errour extraordinary, the most notable (in his opinion) that ever -he had seene before. Namely, a paultry paire of Breeches, wickedly -made, and worse worne, hanging downe so lowe as halfe his legge, -even as he sate upon the Bench, yet cut so sparingly of the Cloath, -that they gaped wide open before, as a wheele-barrow might have full -entrance allowed it. This strange sight was so pleasing to him; as -leaving off further search of his friend, and scorning to have such a -spectacle alone by himselfe: hee went upon another Inquisition; Namely, -for two other merry Lads like himselfe, the one being called _Ribi_, -and the other _Matteuzzo_, men of the same mirth-full disposition as he -was, and therefore the fitter for his Company. - -After he had met with them, these were his salutations: My honest -Boyes, if ever you did me any kindnesse, declare it more effectually -now, in accompanying me to the Court-house, where you shall behold -such a singular spectacle, as (I am sure) you never yet saw the -like. Forthwith they went along altogether, and being come to the -Court-house, he shewed them the Judges hansome paire of Breeches, -hanging down in such base and beastly manner; that (being as yet farre -off from the Bench) their hearts did ake with extreamity of laughter. -But when they came neere to the seat whereon _Messer Niccolao_ sate, -they plainely perceived, that it was very easie to be crept under, and -withall, that the board whereon he set his feet, was rotten and broken, -so that it was no difficult matter, to reach it, and pull it downe as -a man pleased, and let him fall bare Breecht to the ground. Cheare up -your spirits (my hearts) quoth _Maso_, and if your longing be like to -mine; we will have yonder Breeches a good deale lower, for I see how it -may be easily done. - -Laying their heads together, plotting and contriving severall wayes, -which might be the likelyest to compasse their intent: each of them had -his peculiar appointment, to undertake the businesse without fayling, -and it was to be performed the next morning. At the houre assigned, -they met there againe, and finding the Court well filled with people, -the Plaintiffes and Defendants earnestly pleading: _Matteuzzo_ (before -any body could descry him) was cunningly crept under the Bench, and -lay close by the board whereon the Judge placed his feete. Then stept -in _Maso_ on the right hand of _Messer Niccolao_, and tooke fast hold -on his Gowne before; the like did _Ribi_ on the left hand, in all -respects answerable to the other. Oh my Lord Judge (cryed _Maso_ out -aloud) I humbly intreat you for charities sake, before this pilfering -knave escape away from hence; that I may have Justice against him, for -stealing my drawing-over stockeings, which he stoutly denyeth, yet mine -owne eyes beheld the deed, it being now not above fifteene dayes since, -when first I bought them for mine owne use. - -Worthy Lord Judge (cryed _Ribi_, on the other side) doe not beleeve -what he saith, for he is a paltry lying fellow, and because hee knew I -came hither to make my complaint for a Male or Cloakebag which he stole -from me: hee urgeth this occasion for a paire of drawing Stockeings, -which he delivered me with his owne hands. If your Lordship will not -credit me, I can produce as witnesses, _Trecco_ the Shoemaker, with -_Monna Grassa_ the Souse-seller, and he that sweepes the Church of -_Santa Maria a Verzaia_, who saw him when he came posting hither. -_Maso_ haling and tugging the Judge by the sleeve, would not suffer him -to heare _Ribi_, but cryed out still for Justice against him, as he did -the like on the contrary side. - -During the time of this their clamourous contending, the Judge being -very willing to heare either party: _Matteuzzo_, upon a signe received -from the other, which was a word in _Masoes_ pleading, laide holde -on the broken boord, as also on the Judges low-hanging Breech, -plucking at them both so strongly, that they fell downe immediately, -the Breeches being onely tyed but with one Poynt before. He hearing -the boards breaking underneath him, and such maine pulling at his -Breeches; strove (as he sate) to make them fast before, but the Poynt -being broken, and _Maso_ crying in his eare on the one side, as _Ribi_ -did the like in the other; hee was at his wits end to defend himselfe. -My Lord (quoth _Maso_) you may bee ashamed that you doe me not -Justice, why will you not heare mee, but wholly lend your eare to mine -Adversary? My Lord (said _Ribi_) never was Libell preferd into this -Court, of such a paltry trifling matter, and therefore I must, and will -have Justice. - -By this time the Judge was dismounted from the Bench, and stood on -the ground, with his slovenly Breeches hanging about his heeles; -_Matteuzzo_ being cunningly stolne away, and undiscovered by anybody. -_Ribi_, thinking he had shamed the Judge sufficiently, went away, -protesting, that he would declare his cause in the hearing of a -wiser Judge. And _Maso_ forbearing to tugge his Gowne any longer, in -his departing, said. Fare you well Sir, you are not worthy to be a -Magistrate, if you have no more regard of your honour and honesty, but -will put off poore mens suites at your pleasure. So both went severall -wayes, and soone were gone out of publike view. - -The worshipfull Judge _Messer Niccolao_ stood all this while on the -ground; and, in presence of all the beholders, trussed up his Breeches, -as if hee were new risen out of his bed: when better bethinking -himselfe on the matters indifference, he called for the two men, who -contended for the drawing stockings and the Cloake-bag; but no one -could tell what was become of them. Whereupon, he rapt out a kinde -of Judges oath, saying: I will know whether it be Law or no heere in -_Florence_, to make a Judge sit bare Breecht on the Bench of Justice, -and in the hearing of criminall Causes; whereat the chiefe Potestate, -and all the standers by laughed heartily. - -Within fewe dayes after, he was informed by some of his especiall -Friends, that this had never happened to him, but onely to testifie, -how understanding the _Florentines_ are, in their ancient constitutions -and customes, to embrace, love and honour, honest, discreet worthy -Judges and Magistrates; Whereas on the contrary, they as much condemne -miserable knaves, fooles, and dolts, who never merit to have any better -entertainment. Wherefore, it would be best for him, to make no more -enquiry after the parties; lest a worse inconvenience should happen to -him. - - - - -Bruno _and_ Buffalmaco, _did steale a young Brawne from_ Calandrino, -_and for his recovery thereof, they used a kinde of pretended -conjuration, with Pilles made of Ginger and strong Malmesey. But -instead of this application, they gave him two Pilles of a Dogges -Dates, or Dowsets, confected in Alloes, which he received each after -the other; by meanes whereof they made him beleeve, that hee had robde -himselfe. And for feare they should report this theft to his wife; they -made him to goe buy another Brawne._ - -The Sixt Novell. - -_Wherein is declared, how easily a plaine and simple man may be made a -foole, when he dealeth with crafty companions._ - - -_Philostratus_ had no sooner concluded his Novell, and the whole -Assembly laughed heartily thereat: but the Queen gave command to Madame -_Philomena_, that shee should follow next in order; whereupon thus shee -began. Worthy Ladies, as _Philostratus_, by calling to memorie the name -of _Maso del Saggio_, hath contented you with another merry Novell -concerning him: in the same manner must I intreat you, to remember once -againe _Calandrino_ and his subtle Consorts, by a pretty tale which I -meane to tell you; how, and in what manner they were revenged on him, -for going to seeke the invisible Stone. - -Needlesse were any fresh relation to you, what manner of people those -three men were, _Calandrino, Bruno,_ and _Buffalmaco,_ because already -you have had sufficient understanding of them. And therefore, as an -induction to my discourse, I must tell you, that _Calandrino_ had -a small Country-house, in a Village some-what neere to _Florence_, -which came to him by the marriage of his Wife. Among other Cattle and -Poultry, which he kept there in store, hee had a young Boare readie -fatted for Brawne, whereof yearly he used to kill one for his owne -provision; and alwaies in the month of December, he and his wife -resorted to their village house, to have a Brawne both killed and -salted. - -It came to passe at this time concerning my Tale, that the Woman being -somewhat crazie and sickly, by her Husbands unkinde usage, whereof you -heard so lately; _Calandrino_ went alone to the killing of his Boare, -which comming to the hearing of _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_, and that the -Woman could by no meanes be there: to passe away the time a little in -merriment, they went to a friendlie Companion of theirs, an honest -joviall Priest, dwelling not farre off from _Calandrinoes_ Countrey -house. - -The same morning as the Boare was kilde, they all three went thither, -and _Calandrino_ seeing them in the Priests companie: bad them all -heartily welcome; and to acquaint them with his good Husbandry, hee -shewed them his house, and the Boare where it hung. They perceyving -it to be faire and fat, knowing also, that _Calandrino_ intended to -salt it for his owne store, _Bruno_ saide unto him: Thou art an Asse -_Calandrino_, sell thy Brawne, and let us make merrie with the money: -then let thy wife know no otherwise, but that it was stolne from thee, -by those theeves which continually haunt country houses, especially in -such scattering Villages. - -Oh mine honest friends, answered _Calandrino_, your counsell is not -to be followed, neither is my wife so easie to be perswaded: this were -the readiest way to make your house a hell, and she to become the -Master-Divell: therefore talke no further, for flatly I will not doe -it. Albeit they laboured him very earnestly, yet all proved not to anie -purpose: onely he desired them to suppe with him, but in so colde a -manner, as they denyed him, and parted thence from him. As they walked -on the way, _Bruno_ saide to _Buffalmaco_. Shall we three (this night) -rob him of his Brawne? Yea marry (quoth _Buffalmaco_) how is it to be -done? I have (saide _Bruno_) alreadie found the meanes to effect it, -if he take it not from the place where last we saw it. Let us doe it -then (answered _Buffalmaco_) why should we not do it? Sir Domine heere -and we, will make good cheare with it among our selves. The nimble -Priest was as forward as the best; and the match being fully agreed -on, _Bruno_ thus spake. My delicate Sir Domine, Art and cunning must -be our maine helps: for thou knowest _Buffalmaco_, what a covetous -wretch _Calandrino_ is, glad and readie to drink alwaies on other mens -expences: let us go take him with us to the Tavern, where the Priest -(for his owne honour and reputation) shall offer to make paiment of the -whole reckoning, without receiving a farthing of his, whereof he will -not be a little joyfull, so shall we bring to passe the rest of the -businesse, because there is no body in the house, but onely himselfe: -for he is best at ease without company. - -As _Bruno_ had propounded, so was it accordingly performed, & when -_Calandrino_ perceyved, that the Priest would suffer none to pay, but -himselfe, he dranke the more freely; and when there was no neede at -all, tooke his Cuppes couragiously, one after another. Two or three -houres of the night were spent, before they parted from the Taverne, -_Calandrino_ going directly home to his house, and instantly to bed, -without any other supper, imagining that he had made fast his doore, -which (indeede) he left wide open: sleeping soundly, without suspition -of any harme intended unto him. _Buffalmaco_ and _Bruno_ went and supt -with the Priest, and so soone as supper was ended, they tooke certaine -Engines, for their better entering into _Calandrinoes_ house, and so -went on to effect theyr purpose. Finding the doore standing readie -open, they entered in, tooke the Brawne, carried it with them to the -Priests house, and afterward went all to bed. - -When _Calandrino_ had well slept after his Wine, he arose in the -morning, and being descended downe the staires, finding the street -doore wide open, he looked for the Brawne, but it was gone. Enquiring -of the neighbours dwelling neere about him, hee could heare no tydings -of his Brawne, but became the wofullest man in the world, telling every -one that his Brawne was stolne. _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_ being risen in -the morning, they went to visite _Calandrino_, to heare how he tooke -the losse of his Brawne: and hee no sooner had a sight of them, but -he called them to him; and with the teares running downe his cheekes, -sayde: Ah my deare friendes, I am robde of my Brawne. _Bruno_ stepping -closely to him, sayde in his eare: It is wonderfull, that once in thy -life time thou canst bee wise. How? answered _Calandrino_, I speake to -you in good earnest. Speake so still in earnest (replied _Bruno_) and -cry it out so loud as thou canst, then let who list beleeve it to be -true. - -_Calandrino_ stampt and fretted exceedingly, saying: As I am a true -man to God, my Prince, and Countrey, I tell thee truly, that my Brawne -is stolne. Say so still I bid thee (answered _Bruno_) and let all the -world beleeve thee, if they list to do so, for I will not. Wouldst -thou, (quoth _Calandrino_) have me damne my selfe to the divell? I see -thou dost not credit what I say: but would I were hanged by the necke, -if it be not true, that my Brawne is stolne. How can it possible be, -replyed _Bruno_? Did not I see it in thy house yesternight? Wouldst -thou have me beleeve, that it is flowne away? Although it is not flowne -away (quoth _Calandrino_) yet I am certain, that it is stolne away: for -which I am weary of my life, because I dare not go home to mine owne -house, in regard my wife will never beleeve it; and yet if she should -credite it, we are sure to have no peace for a twelvemonths space. - -_Bruno_, seeming as if he were more then halfe sorrowfull, yet -supporting still his former jesting humour, saide: Now trust mee -_Calandrino_, if it be so; they that did it are much too blame. -If it be so? answered _Calandrino_, Belike thou wouldst have mee -blaspheme Heaven, and all the Saints therein: I tell thee once againe -_Bruno_, that this last night my Brawne was stolne. Be patient good -_Calandrino_, replyed _Buffalmaco_, and if thy Brawne be stolne from -thee, there are means enow to get it againe. Meanes enow to get it -againe? said _Calandrino_, I would faine heare one likely one, and let -all the rest go by. I am sure _Calandrino_, answered _Buffalmaco_, thou -art verily perswaded, that no Theefe came from _India_, to steale thy -Brawne from thee: in which respect, it must needes then be some of thy -Neighbours: whom if thou couldst lovingly assemble together, I knowe -an experiment to be made with Bread and Cheese, whereby the party that -hath it, will quickly be discovered. - -I have heard (quoth _Bruno_) of such an experiment, and helde it to -be infallible; but it extendeth onely unto persons of Gentilitie, -whereof there are but few dwelling heere about, and in the case of -stealing a Brawne, it is doubtfull to invite them, neither can there -be any certainty of their comming. I confesse what you say, aunswered -_Buffalmaco_, to be very true: but then in this matter, so nerely -concerning us to be done, and for a deare Friend, what is your advice? -I would have Pilles made of Ginger, compounded with your best and -strongest _Malmesey_,** then let the ordinary sort of people be invited -(for such onely are most to be mistrusted) and they will not faile to -come, because they are utterly ignorant of our intention. Besides, the -Pilles may as well bee hallowed and consecrated, as bread and cheese on -the like occasion. Indeede you say true (replyed _Buffalmaco_) but what -is the opinion of _Calandrino_? Is he willing to have this tryall made, -or no? Yes, by all meanes, answered _Calandrino_, for gladly I would -know who hath stolne my Brawne, and your good words have (more then -halfe) comforted me already in this case. - -Well then (quoth _Bruno_) I will take the paines to go to _Florence_, -to provide all things necessarie for this secret service; but I must -bee furnished with money to effect it. _Calandrino_ had some forty -shillings then about him, which he delivered to _Bruno_, who presently -went to _Florence_, to a frend of his an Apothecarie, of whom he -bought a pound of white Ginger, which hee caused him to make uppe -in small Pilles: and two other beside of a Dogges-dates or Dowsets, -confected all over with strong Aloes, yet well moulded in Sugare, -as all the rest were: and because they should the more easily bee -knowne from the other, they were spotted with Gold, in verie formall -and Physicall manner. He bought moreover, a big Flaggon of the best -Malmesey, returning backe with all these things to _Calandrino_, and -directing him in this order. - -You must put some friend in trust, to invite your Neighbours (especially -such as you suspect) to a breakfast in the morning: and because it is -done as a feast in kindnesse, they will come to you the more willingly. -This night will I and _Buffalmaco_ take such order, that the Pilles -shall have the charge imposed on them, and then wee will bring them -hither againe in the morning: and I my selfe (for your sake) will -deliver them to your guests, and performe whatsoever is to bee sayde -or done. On the next morning, a goodly company being assembled, under -a faire Elme before the Church; as well young _Florentynes_ (who -purposely came to make themselves merry) as neighbouring Husbandmen -of the Village: _Bruno_ was to begin the service, with the Pils in a -faire Cup, and _Buffalmaco_ followed him with another Cup, to deliver -the wine out of the Flaggon, all the company beeing set round, as in -a circle; and _Bruno_ with _Buffalmaco_ being in the midst of them, -_Bruno_ thus spake. - -Honest friends, it is fit that I should acquaint you with the occasion, -why we are thus met together, and in this place: because if anie thing -may seeme offensive to you; afterward you shall make no complaint of -me. From _Calandrino_ (our loving friend heere present) yesternight -there was a new-kild fat Brawne taken, but who hath done the deede, -as yet he knoweth not; and because none other, but some one (or more) -heere among us, must needs offend in this case: he, desiring to -understand who they be, would have each man to receive one of these -Pilles, and afterward to drinke of this Wine; assuring you all, that -whosoever stole the Brawne hence, cannot be able to swallow the Pill: -for it will be so extreme bitter in his mouth, as it will enforce him -to Coughe and spet extraordinarily. In which respect, before such a -notorious shame be received, and in so goodly an assembly, as now -are heere present: it were much better for him or them that have the -Brawne, to confesse it in private to this honest Priest, and I will -abstaine from urging anie such publike proofe. - -Every one there present answered, that they were well contented both to -eate and drinke, and let the shame fall where it deserved; whereupon, -_Bruno_ appointing them how they should sit, and placing _Calandrino_ -as one among them: he began his counterfeite exorcisme, giving each -man a Pill, and _Buffalmaco_ a Cup of Wine after it. But when he came -to _Calandrino_, hee tooke one of them, which was made of the Dogges -dates or Dowsets, and delivering it into his hand, presently hee put -it into his mouth and chewed it. So soone as his tongue tasted the -bitter Aloes, he began to coughe and spet extreamly, as being utterly -unable, to endure the bitternesse and noysome smell. The other men -that had receyved the Pils, beganne to gaze one upon another, to see -whose behaviour should discover him; and _Bruno_ having not (as yet) -delivered Pils to them all, proceeded on still in his businesse, as -seeming not to heare any coughing, till one behinde him, saide. What -meaneth _Calandrino_ by this spetting and coughing? - -_Bruno_ sodainely turning him about, and seeing _Calandrino_ to cough -and spet in such sort, saide to the rest. Be not too rash (honest -Friends) in judging of any man, some other matter (then the Pille) may -procure this Coughing, wherefore he shall receive another, the better to -cleare your beleefe concerning him. He having put the second prepared -Pill into his mouth, while _Bruno_ went to serve the rest of the -Guests: if the first was exceeding bitter to his taste, this other made -it a great deale worse, for teares streamed forth of his eyes as bigge -as Cherry-stones, and champing and chewing the Pill, as hoping it would -overcome his coughing; he coughed and spette the more violently, and in -grosser manner then he did before, nor did they give him any wine to -helpe it. - -_Buffalmaco, Bruno,_ and the whole company, perceiving how he continued -still his coughing and spetting; saide all with one voyce, That -_Calandrino_ was the Theefe to himselfe: and gave him manie grosse -speeches beside, all departing home into their houses, very much -displeased and angry with him. After they were gone, none remained -with him but the Priest, _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_, who thus spake to -_Calandrino_. I did ever thinke, that thou wast the theefe thy selfe, -yet thou imputedst thy robbery to some other, for feare we should once -drinke freely of thy purse, as thou hast done many times of ours. -_Calandrino_, who had not yet ended his coughing and spetting, sware -many bitter Oathes, that his Brawne was stolne from him. Talke so long -as thou wilt, quoth _Buffalmaco_, thy knavery is both knowne and seene, -and well thou mayst be ashamed of thy selfe. _Calandrino_ hearing this, -grew desperately angry; and to incense him more, _Bruno_ thus pursued -the matter. - -Hear me _Calandrino_, for I speake to thee in honest earnest, there -was a man in the company, who did eate and drinke heere among thy -neighbours, and plainly told me, that thou keptst a young Lad heere to -do thee service, feeding him with such victuals as thou couldst spare, -by him thou didst send away thy Brawne, to one that bought it of thee -for foure Crownes, onely to cousen thy poore wife and us. Canst thou -not yet learne to leave thy mocking and scorning? Thou hast forgotte, -how thou broughtst us to the plaine of _Mugnone_, to seeke for black -invisible stones: which having found, thou concealedst them to thy -selfe, stealing home invisibly before us, and making us follow like -fooles after thee. - -Now likewise, by horrible lying Oathes, and perjured protestations, -thou wouldst make us to beleeve, that the Brawne (which thou hast -cunningly sold for ready money) was stolne from thee out of thy house, -when thou art onely the Theefe to thy selfe, as by that excellent rule -of Art (which never faileth) hath plainly, to thy shame, appeared. -Wee being so well acquainted with thy delusions, and knowing them -perfectly; now do plainly tell thee, that we mean not to be foold any -more. Nor is it unknowne to thee, what paines wee have taken, in making -this singular peece of proofe. Wherefore we inflict this punishment on -thee, that thou shalt bestow on this honest Priest and us, two couple -of Capons, and a Flaggon of Wine, or else we will discover this knavery -of thine to thy Wife. - -_Calandrino_ perceiving, that all his protestations could winne no -credit with them, who had now the Law remaining in their owne hands, -and purposed to deale with him as they pleased: apparently saw, that -sighing and sorrow did nothing availe him. Moreover, to fall into his -wives tempestuous stormes of chiding, would bee worse to him then -racking or torturing: he gladly therefore gave them money, to buy the -two couple of Capons and Wine, being heartily contented likewise, that -hee was so well delivered from them. So the merry Priest, _Bruno_, and -_Buffalmaco_, having taken good order for salting the Brawne; closely -carried it with them to _Florence_, leaving _Calandrino_ to complaine -of his losse, and well requited, for mocking them with the invisible -stones. - - - - -_A young Gentleman being a Scholler, fell in love with a Ladie, named_ -Helena, _she being a Widdow, and addicted in affection to another -Gentleman. One whole night in cold winter, she caused the Scholler to -expect her comming, in an extreame frost and snow. In revenge whereof, -by his imagined Art and skill, he made her to stand naked on the top of -a Tower, the space of a whole day, and in the hot moneth of July, to be -Sun-burnt and bitten with Waspes and Flies._ - -The Seventh Novell. - -_Serving as an admonition to all Ladies and Gentlewomen, not to mock -or scorne Gentlemen-Schollers, when they make meanes of love to them; -Except they intend to seeke their owne shame, by disgracing them._ - - -Greatly did the Ladies commend Madame _Philomenaes_ Novell, laughing -heartily at poore _Calandrino_, yet grieving withall, that he should -be so knavishly cheated, not onely of his Brawne, but two couple of -Capons, and a Flaggon of Wine beside. But the whole discourse being -ended; the Queene commanded Madame _Pampinea_, to follow next with her -Novell, and presently she thus began. It hapneth oftentimes, (bright -beauties) that mockery falleth onto him, that intended the same unto -another: And therefore I am of opinion, that there is very little -wisedom declared on him or her, who taketh delight in mocking any -person. I must needs confesse, that we have smiled at many mockeries -and deceits, related in those excellent Novels, which we have already -heard; without any due revenge returned, but onely in this last of -silly _Calandrino_. Wherefore, it is now my determination, to urge -a kind of compassionate apprehension, upon a very just retribution, -happening to a Gentlewoman of our Citie, because her scorne fell -deservedly upon her selfe, remaining mocked, and to the perill of her -life. Let me then assure you, that your diligent attention may redound -to your benefit, because if you keepe your selves (henceforward) from -being scorned by others: you shall expresse the greater wisedome, and -be the better warned by their mishaps. - -As yet there are not many yeares over-past, since there dwelt in -_Florence_, a yong Lady, descended of Noble parentage, very beautifull, -of sprightly courage, and sufficiently abounding in the goods of -Fortune, she being named Madame _Helena_. Her delight was to live in -the estate of Widdow-hood, desiring to match her selfe no more in -marriage, because she bare affection to a gallant young Gentleman, -whom she had made her private election of, and with whom (having -excluded all other amorous cares and cogitations) by meanes of her -Waiting-woman, she had divers meetings, and kinde conferences. - -It chanced at the verie same time, another young Gentleman of our -Citie, called _Reniero_, having long studied in the Schooles at -_Paris_, returned home to _Florence_, not to make sale of his Learning -and experience, as many doe: but to understand the reason of things, -as also the causes and effects of them, which is mervailously fitting -for any Gentleman. Being greatly honoured and esteemed of everyone, as -well for his courteous carriage towards all in generall, as for his -knowledge and excellent parts: he lived more like a familiar Citizen, -then in the nature of a Courtly Gentleman, albeit he was choisely -respected in either estate. - -But, as oftentimes it commeth to passe, that such as are endued with -the best judgement and understanding in naturall occasions, are soonest -caught and intangled in the snares of Love: so fel it out with our -Scholler _Reniero_, who being invited to a solemne Feast, in company of -other his especiall Friends; this Lady _Helena_, attyred in her blacke -Garments (as Widdowes commonly use to wear) was likewise there a Guest. -His eye observing her beauty and gracious demeanour, she seemed in his -judgement, to be a Woman so compleate and perfect, as he had never -seene her equall before: & therefore, he accounted the man more then -fortunate, that was worthy to embrace her in his armes. Continuing this -amorous observation of her from time to time, and knowing withall, that -rare and excellent things are not easily obtained, but by painefull -study, labour, and endeavour: hee resolved with himselfe constantly, -to put in practise all his best parts of industry, onely to honour and -please her, and attaining to her contentation, it would be the means to -winne her love, and compasse thereby his hearts desire. - -The yong Lady, who fixed not her eyes on inferiour subjects (but -esteemed her selfe above ordinary reach or capacity) could moove them -artificially, as curious women well know how to doe, looking on every -side about her, yet not in a gadding or grosse manner; for she was -not ignorant in such darting glaunces, as proceeded from an enflamed -affection, which appearing plainely in _Reniero_; with a pretty smile, -shee said to her selfe. I am not come hither this day in vaine; for, if -my judgement faile me not, I thinke I have caught a Woodcocke by the -Bill. And lending him a cunning looke or two, queintly caried with the -corner of her eye; she gave him a kinde of perswading apprehension, -that her heart was the guide to her eye. And in this artificiall** -Schoole-tricke of hers, shee carryed therewith another consideration, -to wit, that the more other eyes fedde themselves on her perfections, -and were (well-neere) lost in them beyond recovery: so much the greater -reason had he to account his fortune beyond comparison, that was the -sole master of her heart, and had her love at his command. - -Our witty Scholler having set aside his Philosophicall considerations, -strove how he might best understand her carriage toward him, and -beleeving that she beheld him with pleasing regards; hee learned to -know the house where shee dwelt, passing daily by the doore divers -times, under colour of some more serious occasions: wherein the Lady -very proudly gloried, in regard of the reasons before alleadged, and -seemed to affoord him lookes of good liking. Being led thus with a -hopefull perswasion, hee founde the meanes to gaine acquaintance with -her waiting-woman, revealing to her his intire affection, desiring her -to worke for him in such sort with her Lady, that his service might be -gracious in her acceptance. The Gentlewoman made him a very willing -promise, and immediately did his errand to her Lady; who heard her with -no small pride and squemishnesse, and breaking forth into a scornefull -laughter, thus she spake. - -_Ancilla_ (for so she was named) dost thou not observe, how this -Scholler is come to lose all the wit heere, which he has studyed so -long for in the University of _Paris_? Let us make him our onely Table -argument, and seeing his folly soareth so high, we will feed him with -such a dyet as hee deserveth. Yet when thou speakest next with him, -tell him, that I affect him more then he can doe me: but it becommeth -me to be carefull of mine honour, and to walke with an untainted brow, -as other Ladies and Gentlewomen doe: which he is not to mislike, if he -be so wise as he maketh shew of, but rather will the more commend me. -Alas good Lady lack-wit, little did she understand (faire assembly) how -dangerous a case it is to deale with Schollers. - -At his next meeting with the waiting woman, shee delivered the message, -as her Lady had command her, whereof poore _Reniero_ was so joyfull: -that hee pursued his love-suite the more earnestly, and began to write -letters, send gifts, and tokens, all which were still received, yet -without any other answere to give hope, but onely in generall, and -thus shee dallied with him a long while. In the end, she discovered -this matter to her secret chosen friend, who fell suddenly sicke of -the head-ake, onely through meere conceit of jealousie: which she -perceiving, and grieving to be suspected without any cause, especially -by him whom shee esteemed above all other; shee intended to rid him -quickely of that Idle disease. And being more and more solicited by the -Scholler, she sent him word by her maide _Ancilla_, that (as yet) she -could find no convenient opportunity, to yeeld him such assurance, as -hee should not any way be distrustfull of her love. - -But the Feast of Christmas was now neere at hand, which afforded -leisures much more hopefull, then any other formerly passed. And -therefore, the next night after the first Feasting day, if he pleased -to walke in the open Court of her house: she would soone send for -him, into a place much better beseeming, and where they might freely -converse together. - -Now was our Scholler the onely jocond man of the world, and failed -not the time assigned him, but went unto the Ladies house, where -_Ancilla_ was ready to give him entertainment, conducting him into the -base Court, where she lockt him up fast, untill her Lady should send -for him. This night shee had privately sent for her friend also, and -sitting merrily at supper with him, told him, what welcome she had -given the Scholler, and how she further meant to use him, saying. Now -Sir, consider with yourselfe, what hot affection I beare to him, of -whom you became so fondly jealous. The which words were very welcome -to him, and made him extraordinarily joyfull; desiring to see them as -effectually performed, as they appeared to him by her protestations. - -Heere you are to understand (Gracious Ladies) that according to the -season of the yeare, a great snow had falne the day before, so as -the whole Court was covered therewith, and being an extreame frost -upon it, our Scholler could not boast of any warme walking, when the -teeth quivered in his head with cold, as a Dog could not be more -discourteously used: yet hope of enjoying Loves recompence at length, -made him to support all this injury with admirable patience. - -Within a while after, Madame _Helena_ said to her friend. Walke with -me (deare heart) into my Chamber, and there at a secret little window, -I shall shew thee what he doth, that drove thee to such a suspition -of me, and we shall heare beside, what answere he will give my maide -_Ancilla_, whom I will send to comfort him in his coldnesse. - -When she had so said, they went to the appointed chamber window, -where they could easily see him, but he not them: and then they heard -_Ancilla_ also, calling to him forth of another windowe, saying. -Signior _Reniero_, my Lady is the wofullest woman in the world, -because (as yet) she cannot come to you, in regard that one of her -brethren came this evening to visite her, and held her with much longer -discourse then she expected: whereby she was constrained to invite him -to sup with her, and yet he is not gone; but shortly I hope hee will, -and then expect her comming presently; till when, she entreateth your -gentle sufferance. - -Poore _Reniero_, our over-credulous Scholler, whose vehement affection -to Madame _Helena_, so hood-winkt the sight of his understanding, as -he could not be distrustfull of any guilt; returned this answere to -_Ancilla_. Say to your Lady that I am bound in duty, to attend the good -houre of her leisure, without so much as the very least prejudicate -conceite in me: Neverthelesse, entreat her, to let it bee so soone as -she possibly may, because here is miserable walking, and it beginneth -againe to snow extreamely. _Ancilla_ making fast the Casement, went -presently to bed; when _Helena_ spake thus to her amorous friend. -What saist thou now? Doest thou thinke that I loved him, as thou wast -afraid of? if I did, he should never walke thus in the frost and snow. -So, away went they likewise from their close gazing window, and spent -wanton dalliances together, laughing, and deriding (with many bitter -taunts and jests) the lamentable condition of poore _Reniero_. - -About the Court walked hee numberlesse times, finding such exercises -as he could best devise, to compasse warmth in any manner: no seate or -shelter had he any where, either to ease himselfe by sitting downe a -while, or keepe him from the snow, falling continually on him, which -made him bestow many curses on the Ladies Brother, for his so long -tarrying with her, as beleeving him verily to be in the house, else she -would (long before) have admitted his entrance, but therein his hope -was meerely deceived. It grew now to be about the houre of midnight, -and _Helena_ had delighted her selfe with her friend extraordinarily, -till at last she spake to him. What is thine opinion of my amourous -Scholler? Which dost thou imagine to be the greatest, either his sense -and judgement, or the affection I beare to him? Is not this cold -sufferance of this, able to quench the violent heate of his loves -extremitie, and having so much snow broth to helpe it? Beleeve me -(sweet Lady) quoth her friend, as hee is a man, and a learned Scholler, -I pitty that he should bee thus ungently dealt withall: but as he is -my rivall and loves enemy, I cannot allow him the least compassion, -resting the more confidently assured of your love to me, which I will -alwayes esteeme most precious. - -When they had spent a long while in this or the like conference, with -infinite sweet kisses and embraces intermixed; then she began againe -in this manner. Deare love (quoth she) cast thy Cloake about thee, as -I intend to doe with my night mantle, and let us step to the little -window once more, to see whether the flaming fire, which burned in the -Schollers brest (as daily avouched to me in his love letters) be as -yet extinct or no. So going to the window againe, and looking downe -into the Court; there they saw the Scholler dancing in the snow, to -the cold tune of his teeths quivering and chattering, and clapping his -armes about his body, which was no pleasing melody to him. How thinkest -thou now sweet heart (saide shee) cannot I make a man daunce without -the sound of a Taber, or of a Bagpipe? Yes beleeve me Lady (quoth he) -I plaine perceive you can, and would be very lothe, that you should -exercise your cunning on me. Nay, said shee, we will yet delight our -selves a little more; let us softly descend downe the stayres, even so -farre as to the Court doore; thou shalt not speake a word, but I will -talke to him, and heare some part of his quivering language, which -cannot choose but bee passing pleasing for us to heare. - -Out of the Chamber went they, and descended downe the stayres to the -Court doore; where, without opening it, she laide her mouth to a small -cranny, and in a low soft kinde of voyce, called him by his name: -which the Scholler hearing, was exceeding joyfull, as beleeving verily, -that the houre of his deliverance was come, and entrance now should be -admitted him. Upon the hearing of her voyce, hee stept close to the -doore, saying. For charities sake, good Lady, let me come in, because -I am almost dead with cold; whereto thus she answered in mocking -manner. I make no doubt (my deare friend _Reniero_) but the night is -indifferent colde, and yet somewhat the warmer by the Snowes falling: -and I have heard that such weather as this, is tenne-times more -extreame at _Paris_, then heere in our warmer Countrey. And trust me, I -am exceeding sorrowfull, that I may not (as yet) open the door, because -mine unhappy brother, who came (unexpected) yester-night to suppe with -mee, is not yet gone, as within a short while (I hope) he will, and -then shall I gladly set open the doore to you, for I made an excuse to -steale a little from him, onely to cheare you with this small kind of -comfort, that his so long tarrying might be the lesse offensive to you. - -Alas sweet Madame, answered quaking and quivering _Reniero_, bee -then so favourable to me, as to free me from forth this open Court, -where there is no shelter or helpe for me, the snow falling still so -exceedingly, as a man might easily be more then halfe buried in it: -let me be but within your doore, and there I will wait your own good -leisure. Alas deare _Reniero_ (answered _Helena_) I dare not doe it, -because the doore maketh such a noyse in the opening, as it will be -too easily heard by my Brother: but I will goe and use such meanes, -as shortly hee shall get him gone, and then I dare boldly give you -entrance. Doe so good Madame, replyed _Reniero_, and let there be a -faire fire made ready, that when I am within, I may the sooner warme my -selfe; for I am so strangely benummed with colde, as well neere I am -past all sence of feeling. - -Can it be possible (quoth _Helena_) that you should be so benummed -with colde? Then I plainely perceive, that men can lye in their love -letters, which I can shew under your own hand, how you fryed in -flames, and all for my love, and so have you written to me in every -letter. Poore credulous women are often thus deluded, in beleeving -what men write and speake out of passion: but I will returne backe to -my Brother, and make no doubt of dispatch, because I would gladly have -your Company. - -The amourous Friend to _Helena_, who stood by all this while, laughing -at the Schollers hard usage, returned up againe with her to her -Chamber, where they could not take a jote of rest, for flouting and -scorning the betrayed Scholler. As for him poore man, hee was become -like the Swanne, coldly chattering his teeth together, in a strange new -kinde of harmony to him. And perceiving himselfe to be meerely mocked, -he attempted to get open the doore, or how he might passe forth at any -other place: but being no way able to compasse it, he walked up and -downe like an angry Lyon, cursing the hard quality of the time, the -discourtesie of the Lady, the over-tedious length of the night; but -(most of all) his owne folly and simplicity, in being so basely abused -and gulde. Now began the heat of his former affection to _Helena_, -altered into as violent a detestation of her; Yea, extremity of hatred -in the highest degree; beating his braines, and ransacking every corner -of invention, by what meanes he might best be revenged on her, which -now he more earnestly desired to effect, then to enjoy the benefit of -her love, or to be embraced betweene her armes. - -After that the sad and discomfortable night had spent it selfe, & the -break of day was beginning to appeare; _Ancilla_ the waiting-woman, -according as she was instructed by her Lady, went downe and opened the -Court doore, and seeming exceedingly to compassionate the Schollers -unfortunate night of sufferance, saide unto him. - -Alas courteous Gentleman, in an unblessed houre came my Ladyes brother -hither yester-night, inflicting too much trouble upon us, and a -grievous time of affliction to you. But I am not ignorant, that you -being vertuous, and a judicious Scholler, have an invincible spirit of -pacience, and sufficient understanding withall; that what this night -could not affoord, another may make a sound amends for. This I can and -dare sufficiently assure you, that nothing could be more displeasing -to my Lady, neither can she well be quieted in her mind: untill she -have made a double and treble requitall, for such a strange unexpected -inconvenience, whereof she had not the very least suspition. - -_Reniero_ swelling with discontentment, yet wisely clouding it from -open apprehension, and knowing well enough, that such golden speeches -and promises, did alwaies favour of what intemperate spleene would more -lavishly have vented foorth, and therefore in a modest dissembling -manner; without the least shew of any anger, thus he answered. - -In good sadnesse _Ancilla_, I have endured the most miserablest night -of colde, frost and snow, that ever any poore Gentleman suffered; but -I know well enough, your Lady was not in any fault thereof, neither -meriteth to be blamed, for in her owne person (as being truely -compassionate of my distresse) she came so farre as the doore of this -Court, to excuse her selfe, and comfort mee. But as you saide, and -very well too, what hath failed this night, another hereafter may more -fortunately performe: in hope whereof, commend my love and duteous -service to her, and (what else remaineth mine) to your gentle selfe. - -So our halfe frozen Scholler, scarcely able to walke upon his legges, -returned home, (so well as hee could) to his owne lodging; where, his -Spirits being grievously out of order, and his eyes staring gastly -through lacke of sleepe: he lay downe on his bed, and after a little -rest, he found himselfe in much worse condition then before, as meerely -taken lame in his armes and his legges. Whereupon he was inforced -to send for Phisitions, to be advised by their councell, in such an -extremity of cold received. Immediately, they made provision for his -healthes remedie (albeit his nerves and sinewes could very hardly -extend themselves) yet in regard he was yong, & Summer swiftly drawing -on; they had the better hope of affecting his safty, out of so great -and dangerous a cold. - -But after he was become almost well and lusty againe, hee used to be -seldome seene abroad for an indifferent while; concealing his intended -revenge secret to himselfe, yet appearing more affectionate to Madame -_Helena_, then formerly he had beene. - -Now, it came to passe (within no long while after) that Fortune being -favourable to our injured Scholler, prepared a new accident, whereby -he might fully effect his harts desire. For the lusty yong Gallant, -who was Madame _Helenaes_ deare darling and delight, and (for whose -sake) she dealt so inhumanely with poore _Reniero_: became weary of her -amourous service, and was falne in liking of another Lady, scorning -and disdaining his former Mistresse; whereat shee grew exceedingly -displeased, and began to languish in sighes and teares. - -But _Ancilla_ her waiting-woman, compassionating the perilous condition -of her Lady, and knowing no likely meanes whereby to conquer this -oppressing melancholly, which shee suffered for the losse of her hearts -chosen friend: at length she began to consider, that the Scholler still -walked daily by the doore, as formerly hee was wont to doe, and (by -him) there might some good be done. - -A fond and foolish opinion overswayed her, that the Scholler was -extraordinarily skilfull in the Art of Nigromancy, and could thereby -so over-rule the heart of her lost friend, as hee should bee compelled -to love her againe, in as effectuall manner as before; herewith -immediately she acquainted her Lady, who being as rashly credulous, as -her maide was opinionative (never considring, that if the Scholler had -any experience in Negromancy, hee would thereby have procured his owne -successe) gave releefe to her surmise, in very Joviall and comfortable -manner, and entreated her in all kindnes, to know of him, whether he -could worke such a businesse, or no, and (upon his undertaking to -effect it) shee would give absolute assurance, that (in recompence -thereof) he should unfainedly obtaine his hearts desire. _Ancilla_ was -quicke and expeditious, in delivering this message to discontented -_Reniero_, whose soule being ready to mount out of his body, onely by -conceit of joy; chearefully thus he said within himselfe. Gracious -Fortune! how highly am I obliged to thee for this so great a favour? -Now thou hast blest me with a happy time, to be justly revenged on so -wicked a woman, who sought the utter ruine of my life, in recompence of -the unfaigned affection I bare her. Returne to thy Lady (quoth he) and -saluting her first on my behalfe, bid her to abandon all care in this -businesse; for, if her amourous Friend were in India, I would make him -come (in meere despight of his heart) and crave mercy of her for his -base transgression. But concerning the meanes how, and in what manner -it is to bee done, especially on her owne behalfe: I will impart it to -her so soone as she pleaseth: faile not to tell her so constantly from -me, with all my utmost paines at her service. - -_Ancilla_ came jocondly home with her answere, and a conclusion was -set downe for their meeting together at _Santa Lucia del prato_, which -accordingly was performed, in very solemne conference between them. -Her fond affection had such power over her, that shee had forgot, into -what peril she brought his life, by such an unnatural night-walke: -but disclosed all her other intention to him, how loth she was to lose -so deare a friend, and desiring him to exercise his utmost height of -skil, with large promises of her manifold favours to him, whereto our -Scholler thus replyed. - -Very true it is Madam, that among other studies at _Paris_, I learned -the Art of Negromancy, the depth whereof I am as skilful in, as anie -other Scholler whatsoever. But, because it is greatly displeasing -unto God, I made a vow never to use it, either for my selfe, or anie -other. Neverthelesse, the love I beare you is of such power, as I -know not well how to denie, whatsoever you please to command me: in -which respect, if in doing you my very best service, I were sure to -bee seized on by all the divels: I will not faile to accomplish your -desire, you onely having the power to command me. But let me tell you -Madame, it is a matter not so easie to be performed, as you perhaps may -rashly imagine, especially, when a Woman would repeale a man to love -her, or a man a woman: because, it is not to be done, but by the person -whom it properly concerneth. And therefore it behoveth, that such would -have this businesse effected, must be of a constant minde, without the -least scruple of feare: because it is to be accomplished in the darke -night season, in which difficulties I doe not know, how you are able -to warrant your selfe, or whether you have such courage of spirit, as -(with boldnes) to adventure. - -Madame _Helena_, more hot in pursuite of her amorous contentment, then -any way governed by temperate discretion, presently thus answered. Sir, -Love hath set such a keene edge on my unconquerable affection, as there -is not any daunger so difficult, but I dare resolutely undertake it, -for the recovery of him, who hath so shamefully refused my kindnesse: -wherefore (if you please) shew mee, wherein I must be so constant and -dreadlesse. The Scholler, who had (more then halfe) caught a right -Ninny-hammer by the beake; thus replyed. Madame, of necessity I must -make an image of Tin, in the name of him whom you desire to recall. -Which when I have sent you, the Moone being then in her full, and your -selfe stript starke naked: immediately after your first sleepe, seaven -times you must bathe your selfe with it in a swift running River. -Afterward, naked as you are, you must climbe up upon some tree, or else -upon an uninhabited house top, where standing dreadlesse of any perill, -and turning your face to the North, with the Image in your hand, seaven -times you must speake such wordes, as I will deliver to you in writing. - -After you have so often spoken them, two goodly Ladies (the very -fairest that ever you beheld) will appeare unto you, very graciously -saluting you, and demanding what you would have them to performe for -you. Safely you may speake unto them, and orderly tel them what you -desire: but be very carefull, that you name not one man insted of -another. When you have uttered your mind, they will depart from you, -and then you may descend againe, to the place where you did leave -your garments, which having putte on, then returne to your house. And -undoubtedly, before the midst of the next night following, your friend -will come in teares to you, and humbly crave your pardon on his knees; -beeing never able afterward to be false to you, or leave your Love for -any other whatsoever. - -The Lady hearing these words, gave very setled beleefe to them, -imagining unfainedly, that shee had (more then halfe) recovered her -friend already, and held him embraced betweene her armes: in which -jocond perswasion, the chearfull** blood mounted up into hir cheekes, -and thus she replyed. Never make you any doubt Sir, but that I can -sufficiently performe whatsoever you have said, and am provided of -the onely place in the world, where such a weighty businesse is to be -effected. For I have a Farme or dairy house, neere adjoyning to the -vale of _Arno_, & closely bordering upon the same River. It beeing now -the moneth of July, the most convenientest time of all the yeare to -bathe in; I can bee the easier induced thereunto. - -Moreover, there is hard by the Rivers side a small Tower or Turret -uninhabited; whereinto few people do sildome enter, but onely Heardsmen -or Flocke-keepers, who ascend uppe (by the helpe of a wodden Ladder) to -a Tarrasse on the top of the saide Tower, to looke all about for their -beasts, when they are wandred astray: it standing in a solitary place, -and out of the common way or resort. There dare I boldly adventure -to mount up, and with the invincible courage of a wronged Lady (not -fearing to looke death himself in the face) do al that you have -prescribed, yea, and much more, to recover my deare lost Lover againe, -whom I value equal with my owne Life. - -_Reniero_, who perfectly knew both the Dairy Farme, and the old smal -Turret, not a little joyfull, to heare how forward shee was to shame her -selfe, answered in this manner. Madame, I was never in those parts of -the Country, albeit they are so neere to our City, & therefore I must -needs be ignorant, not onely of your Farme, but the Turret also. But -if they stand in such convenient manner as you have described, all the -world could not yeelde the like elsewhere, so apt and sutable to your -purpose: wherefore, with such expedition as possibly I can use, I will -make the Image, and send it you, as also the charme, verie fairely -written. But let me entreate you, that when you have obtayned your -hearts desire, and are able to judge truely of my love and service: not -to be unmindfull of me, but (at your best leysure) to performe what -you have with such protestations promised; which shee gave him her hand -and faith to do, without any impeach or hindrance: and so parting, she -returned home to her house. - -Our over-joyed Scholler, applauding his happy Starres, for furthering -him with so faire a way to his revenge; immagining that it was already -halfe executed, made the Image in due forme, & wrote an old Fable, -in sted of a Charme; both which he sent to the Lady, so soone as he -thought the time to be fitting: and this admonition withall, that the -Moone being entering into the full, without any longer delay, she -might venter on the businesse the next night following, and remaine -assured to repossesse her friend. Afterward for the better pleasing -of himselfe, he went secretly attended, onely by his servant, to the -house of a trusty frend of his, who dwelt somwhat neere to the Turret, -there to expect the issue of this Lady-like enterprize. And Madam -_Helena_ accompanied with none but _Ancilla_, walked on to her dairy -Farme, where the night ensuing, pretending to take her rest sooner -then formerly she used to doe, she commanded _Ancilla_ to go to bed, -referring her selfe to her best liking. - -After she had slept her first sleepe (according to the Schollers -direction) departing softly out of her chamber, she went on towards -the ancient Tower, standing hard by the river of _Arno_, looking every -way heedfully about hir, least she should be spied by any person. But -perceiving hir selfe to be so secure as she could desire; putting off -all her garments, she hid them in a small brake of bushes: afterward, -holding the Image in hir hand, seven times she bathd hir body in the -river, and then returned back with it to the Tower. The Scholler, who -at the nights closing up of day, had hid himselfe among the willowes -& other trees, which grew very thick about the Tower, saw both hir -going and returning from the River, and as she passed thus naked by -him, he plainly perceyved, that the nights obscurity could not cloud -the delicate whitenes of hir body, but made the Starres themselves -to gaze amorously on her, even as if they were proud to behold her -bathing, and (like so many twinkling Tapers) shewed hir in emulation of -another _Diana_. Now, what conflicts this sight caused in the mind of -our Scholler, one while, quenching his hatefull spleen towards hir, al -coveting to imbrace a piece of such perfection: another while, thinking -it a purchase fit for one of _Cupids_ soldiers, to seize and surprize -hir uppon so faire an advantage, none being neere to yeild her rescue: -in the fiery triall of such temptations, I am not able to judge, or to -say, what resistance flesh and blood could make, being opposed with -such a sweet enemy. - -But he well considering what she was, the greatnes of his injury, as -also how, and for whom: he forgot all wanton allurements of Love, -scorning to entertaine a thought of compassion, continuing constant -in his resolution, to let her suffer, as he himselfe had done. So, -_Helena_ being mounted up on the Turret, and turning her face towards -the North; she repeated those idle frivolous words (composed in -the nature of a charme) which shee had received from the Scholler. -Afterward, by soft and stealing steps, hee went into the old Tower, and -tooke away the Ladder, whereby she ascended to the Tarras, staying and -listening, how shee proceeded in her amorous exorcisme. - -Seven times she rehearsed the charme to the Image, looking still -when the two Ladies would appeare in their likenesse, and so long -she held on her imprecations (feeling greater cold, then willinglie -she would have done) that breake of day began to shew it selfe, and -halfe despairing of the Ladies comming, according as the Scholler had -promised, she said to her selfe: I much misdoubt, that _Reniero_ hath -quitted me with such another peece of night-service, as it was my lucke -to bestow on him: but if he have done it in that respect, hee was but -ill advised in his revenge, because the night wants now three parts -of the length, as then it had: and the cold which he suffered, was -far superior in quality to mine, albeit it is more sharp now in the -morning, then all the time of night it hath bin. - -And, because day-light should not discover her on the Tarrasse, she -went to make her descent downe againe: but finding the Ladder to be -taken away, & thinking how her publike shame was now inevitable, her -heart dismayed, and shee fell downe in a swoune on the Tarras: yet -recovering her senses afterward, her greefe and sorrow** exceeded all -capacity of utterance. For, now she became fully perswaded, that this -proceeded from the Schollers malice, repenting for her unkinde usage -towards him, but much more condemning her selfe, for reposing any trust -in him, who stood bound (by good reason) to be her enemy. - -Continuing long in this extreame affliction, and surveighing all likely -meanes about her, whereby she might descend from the Tarras, whereof -she was wholly disappointed: she began to sighe and weepe exceedingly, -and in this heavy perplexity of spirit, thus shee complained to her -selfe. Miserable and unfortunate _Helena_, what will be saide by -thy Bretheren, Kindred, Neighbours, and generallie throughout all -_Florence_, when they shall know, that thou wast founde heere on this -Turret, starke naked? Thine honourable carriage, and honesty of life, -heeretofore free from a thought of suspition, shall now be branded with -detestation; and if thou wouldst cloud this mishappe of thine, by such -lies and excuses, as are not rare amongst women: yet _Reniero_ that -wicked Scholler, who knoweth all thy privy compacting, will stand as a -thousand witnesses against thee, and shame thee before the whole City, -so both thine honor and loved friend are lost for ever. - -Having thus consulted with her selfe, many desperate motions entred her -minde, to throw her selfe headlong from off the Tarras; till better -thoughts wone possession of her soule. And the Sunne being risen, shee -went to every corner of the Tarras, to espye any Lad come abroad with -his beasts, by whom she might send for her waiting-woman. About this -instant, the Scholler who lay sleeping (all this while) under a bush, -suddenly awaking; saw her looke over the wall, and she likewise espyed -him; whereupon hee said unto her. Good morrow Madame _Helena_, What? -are the Ladies come yet or no? _Helena_ hearing his scorning question, -and grieving that hee should so delude her; in teares and lamentations, -she intreated him to come neere the Tower, because she desired to -speake with him. Which courtesie he did not deny her, and she lying -groveling upon her brest on the Tarras, to hide her body that no part -thereof might be seene, but her head; weeping, she spake thus to him. - -_Reniero_, upon my credit, if I gave thee an ill nights rest, thou hast -well revenged that wrong on me; for, although wee are now in the moneth -of _July_, I have beene plagued with extremity of colde (in regard of -my nakednesse) even almost frozen to death: beside my continuall teares -and lamenting, that folly perswaded me to beleeve thy protestations, -wherein I account it well-neere miraculous, that mine eyes should be -capable of any sight. And therefore I pray thee, not in respect of any -love which thou canst pretend to beare me; but for regard of thine owne -selfe, being a Gentleman and a Scholler, that this punishment which -thou hast already inflicted upon me, may suffise for my former injuries -towards thee, and to hold thy selfe revenged fully, as also permit -my garments to be brought me, that I may descend from hence, without -taking that from me, which afterward (although thou wouldst) thou canst -never restore me, I meane mine honour. And consider with thy selfe, -that albeit thou didst not injoy my company that unhappy night, yet -thou hast power to command me at any time whensoever, with making many -diversities of amends, for one nights offence only committed. Content -thy selfe then good _Reniero_, and as thou art an honest Gentleman, say -thou art sufficiently revenged on me, in making me dearely confesse -mine owne errour. Never exercise thy malice upon a poore weake woman, -for the Eagle disdaineth to pray on the yeelding Dove: and therefore in -meere pitty, and for manhoods sake, be my release from open shame and -reproch. - -The Scholler, whose envious spleene was swolne very great, in -remembring such a malicious cruelty exercised on him, beholding her -to weepe and make such lamentations; found a fierce conflict in his -thoughts, betweene content and pitty. It did not a little joy and -content him, that the revenge which hee so earnestly desired to -compasse, was now by him so effectually inflicted. And yet (in meere -humanity) pitty provoked him to commisserate the Ladies distressed -condition: but clemency being over-weake to withstand his rigor, thus -he replied. Madame _Helena_, if my entreaties (which, to speake truly, -I never knew how to steepe in tears, nor wrap up my words in sugar -Candie, so cuningly as you women know how to do) could have prevailed, -that miserable night, when I was well-neere frozen to death with cold, -and meerly buried with snow in your Court, not having anie place of -rescue or shelter; your complaints would now the more easily over-rule -me. But if your honor in estimation, bee now more precious to you then -heretofore, and it seemeth so offensive to stand there naked: convert -your perswasions & prayers to him, in whose armes you were that night -imbraced, both of your triumphing in my misery, when poor I, trotted -about your Court, with the teeth quivering in my head, and beating mine -armes about my body, finding no compassion in him, or you. Let him -bring thee thy Garments, let him come helpe thee down with the Ladder, -and let him have the care of thine honour, on whom thou hast bene so -prodigall heretofore in bestowing it, and now hast unwomanly throwne -thy selfe in perill, onely for the maintenance of thine immodest -desires. - -Why dost thou not call on him to come helpe thee? To whom doeth it more -belong, then to him? For thou art his, and he thine, why then shold any -other but he help thee in this distresse? Call him (foole as thou art) -and try, if the love he beareth thee, and thy best understanding joyned -with his, can deliver thee out of my sottish detaining thee. I have -not forgot, that when you both made a pastime of my misery, thou didst -demand of him, which seemed greatest in his opinion, either my sottish -simplicity, or the love thou barest him. I am not now so liberall or -courteous, to desire that of thee, which thou wouldst not grant, if I -did request it: No, no, reserve those night favours for thy amorous -friend, if thou dost escape hence alive to see him againe. As for my -selfe, I leave thee freely to his use and service: because I have -sufficiently payde for a womans falshood, & wise men take such warning, -that they scorne to bee twice deceived, & by one woman. Proceed on -still in thy flattering perswasions, terming me to be a Gentleman and -a Scholler, thereby to win such favor from me, that I should think -thy villany toward me, to be already sufficiently punished. No, -trecherous _Helena_, thy blandishments cannot now hoodwink the eies of -my understanding, as when thou didst out-reach me with thy disloyall -promises and protestations. And let me now tell thee plainely, that all -the while I continued in the Universitie of _Paris_, I never attained -unto so perfect an understanding of my selfe, as in that one miserable -night thou diddest enstruct mee. But admit, that I were enclined unto a -mercifull and compassionate minde, yet thou art none of them, on whome -milde and gracious mercy should any way declare her effects. For, the -end of pennance among savage beasts, such as thou art, and likewise -of due vengeance, ought to be death: whereas among men, it should -suffice according to thine owne saying. Wherefore, in regard that I am -neither an Eagle, nor thou a Dove, but rather a most venomous Serpent: -I purpose with my utmost hatred, and as an ancient enemy to all such as -thou art, to make my revenge famous on thee. - -I am not ignorant, that whatsoever I have already done unto thee, -cannot properly be termed revenge, but rather chastisement; because -revenge ought alwayes to exceede the offence, which (as yet) I am farre -enough from. For, if I did intend to revenge my wrongs, and remembred -thy monstrous cruelty to me: thy life, if I tooke it from thee, and an -hundred more such as thy selfe, were farre insufficient, because in -killing thee, I should kill but a vile inhumane beast, yea, one that -deserved not the name of a Woman. And, to speake truely, Art thou any -more, or better (setting aside thy borrowed haire, and painted beauty, -which in few yeares will leave thee wrinkled and deformed) then the -basest beggarly Chamber-stuffe that can bee? Yet thou soughtest the -death of a Gentleman and Scholler as (in scorne) not long since, thou -didst terme me: whose life may hereafter be more beneficiall unto -the world, then millions of such as thou art, to live in the like -multiplicity of ages. Therefore, if this anguish be sensible to thee, -learne what it is to mocke men of apprehension, and (amongst them -especially) such as are Schollers: to prevent thy falling hereafter -into the like extremity, if it be thy good lucke to escape out of this. - -It appeareth to me, that thou art verie desirous to come downe hither -on the ground; the best counsell that I can give thee, is to leape -downe headlong, that by breaking thy necke (if thy fortune be so faire) -thy life and lothsome qualities ending together, I may sit and smile -at thy deserved destruction. I have no other comfort to give thee, but -only to boast my happinesse, in teaching thee the way to ascend that -Tower, and in thy descending downe (even by what means thy wit can best -devise) make a mockery of me, and say thou hast learned more, then all -my Schollership could instruct thee. - -All the while as _Reniero_ uttered these speeches, the miserable -Lady sighed and wept very grievously, the time running on, and the -Sunne amending higher and higher; but when she heard him silent, thus -she answered. Unkinde and cruell man, if that wretched night was so -greevous to thee, and mine offence appeared so great, as neither my -youth, beautie, teares, and humble intercessions, are able to derive -any mercy from thee; yet let the last consideration moove thee to -some remorse: namely, that I reposed new confidence in thee (when -I had little or no reason at all to trust thee) and discovered the -integritie of my soule unto thee, whereby thou didst compasse the -meanes, to punish me thus deservedly for my sinne. For, if I had not -reposed confidence in thee, thou couldst not (in this manner) have -wrought revenge on me, which although thou didst earnestly covet, yet -my rash credulitie was thy onely helpe. Asswage then thine anger, and -graciously pardon me, wherein if thou wilt be so mercifull to me, and -free me from this fatall Tower: I do heere faithfully promise thee, to -forsake my most false and disloyall friend, electing thee as my Lord -and constant Love for ever. - -Moreover, although thou condemnest my beauty greatly, esteeming it -as a trifle, momentary, and of slender continuance; yet, such as it -is (being comparable with any other womans whatsoever) I am not so -ignorant, that were there no other reason to induce liking thereof: -yet men in the vigour of their youth (as I am sure you think yourselfe -not aged) do hold it for an especiall delight, ordained by nature -for them to admire and honour. And notwithstanding all thy cruelty -extended to mee, yet I cannot be perswaded, that thou art so flinty -or Iron-hearted, as to desire my miserable death, by casting my selfe -headlong downe (like a desperate madde woman) before thy face so to -destroy that beauty, which (if thy Letters lyed not) was once so highly -pleasing in thine eyes. Take pitty then on mee for charities sake, -because the Sunne beginneth to heate extreamely: and as over-much colde -(that unhappy night) was mine offence, so let not over-violent warmth -be now my utter ruine and death. - -The Scholler, who (onely to delight himselfe) maintained this long -discoursing with her, returned her this answere. Madame, you did not -repose such confidence in me, for any good will or affection in you -towards me, but in hope of recovering him whom you had lost; wherein -you merit not a jot of favour, but rather the more sharpe and severe -infliction. And whereas you inferre, that your over-rash credulity, -gave the onely meanes to my revenge: Alas! therein you deceive your -selfe; for I have a thousand crochets working continually in my brain, -whereby to entrap a wiser creature then a woman, yet veiled all under -the cunning cloake of love, but sauced with the bitter Wormewood of -hate. So that, had not this hapned as now it doth, of necessity you -must have falne into another: but, as it hath pleased my happy stars to -favour mee therein, none could proove more to your eternall scandall -and disgrace, then this of your owne devising, which I made choise of, -not in regard of any ease to you, but onely to content my selfe. - -But if all other devises els had failed, my pen was and is my -prevayling Champion, where-with I would have written such and so many -strange matters, concerning you in your very dearest reputation; that -you should have curst the houre of your conception, & wisht your birth -had bin abortive. The powers of the pen are too many & mighty, whereof -such weake wits as have made no experience, are the lesse able to -use any relation. I sweare to you Lady, by my best hopes, that this -revenge which (perhappes) you esteeme great and dishonourable, is no -way compareable to the wounding Lines of a Penne, which can carracter -downe so infinite infamies (yet none but guilty and true taxations) -as will make your owne hands immediate instruments, to teare the eyes -from forth your head, and so bequeath your after dayes unto perpetuall -darkenesse. - -Now, concerning your lost lover, for whose sake you suffer this -unexpected pennance; although your choise hath proved but bad, yet -still continue your affection to him: in regard that I have another -Ladie and Mistresse, of higher and greater desert then you, and to -whome I will continue for ever constant. And whereas you thinke, the -warme beames of the Sunne, will be too hot and scorching for your nice -bodie to endure: remember the extreame cold which you caused mee to -feele, and if you can intermixe some part of that cold with the present -heat, I dare assure you, the Sun (in his highest heate) will be far -more temperate for your feeling. - -The disconsolate Lady perceiving, that the Schollers wordes favoured of -no mercy, but rather as coveting her desperate ending; with the teares -streaming downe her cheekes, thus she replied. Wel Sir, seeing there -is no matter of worth in me, whereby to derive any compassion from -you: yet for that Ladies sake, whom you have elected worthy to enjoy -your love, and so farre excelleth mee in Wisedome; vouchsafe to pardon -mee, and suffer my garments to be brought me, wherewith to cover my -nakednesse, and so to descend downe from this Tower, if it may stand -with your gentle Nature to admit it. - -Now beganne _Reniero_ to laughe very heartily, and perceiving how -swiftly the day ran on in his course, he saide unto her. Beleeve me -Madame _Helena_, you have so conjured me by mine endeered Ladie and -Mistresse, that I am no longer able to deny you; wherefore, tell me -where your garments are, and I will bring them to you, that you may -come downe from the Turret. She beleeving his promise, tolde him where -she had hid them, and _Reniero_ departing from the Tower, commanded his -servant, not to stirre thence: but to abide still so neere it, as none -might get entrance there till his returning. Which charge was no sooner -given to his man, but hee went to the house of a neere neighbouring -friend, where he dined well, and afterward laid him downe to sleepe. - -In the meane while, Madame _Helena_ remaining still on the Tower, -began to comfort her selfe with a little vaine hope, yet sighing and -weeping incessantly, seating her selfe so well as shee could, where -any small shelter might yeelde the least shade, in expectation of the -Schollers returning: one while weeping, then againe hoping, but most -of all despairing, by his so long tarrying away with her Garments; so -that beeing over-wearied with anguish and long watching, she fell into -a little slumbering. But the Sunne was so extreamly hot, the houre of -noone being already past, that it meerly parched her delicate body, -and burnt her bare head so violently: as not onely it seared all the -flesh it touched; but also cleft & chinkt it strangely, beside blisters -and other painfull scorchings in the flesh which hindred her sleeping, -to help her self (by all possible means) waking. And the Turret being -covered with Lead, gave the greater addition to her torment; for, as -she removed from one place to another, it yeelded no mitigation to the -burning heate, but parched and wrinkled the flesh extraordinarily, even -as when a piece of parchment is throwne into the fire, and recovered -out againe, can never be extended to his former forme. - -Moreover, she was so grievously payned with the head-ake, as it seemed -to split in a thousand pieces, whereat there needed no great marvaile, -the Lead of the Turret being so exceedingly hot, that it affoorded not -the least defence against it, or any repose to qualifie the torment: -but drove her still from one place to another, in hope of ease, but -none was there to be found. - -Nor was there any winde at all stirring, whereby to asswage the Sunnes -violent scalding, or keepe away huge swarmes of Waspes, Hornets, and -terrible byting Flyes, which vexed her extreamely, feeding on those -parts of her body, that were rifte and chinkt, like crannies in a -mortered wall, and pained her like so many points of pricking Needles, -labouring still with her hands to beate them away, but yet they fastned -on one place or other, and afflicted her in grievous manner, causing -her to curse her owne life, hir amorous friend, but (most of all) the -Scholler, that promised to bring her Garments, and as yet returned not. -Now began she to gaze upon every side about her, to espy some labouring -Husbandmen in the fields, to whom she might call or cry out for helpe, -not fearing to discover her desperate condition: but Fortune therein -also was adverse to her, because the heats extreamity, had driven all -the village out of the fields, causing them to feede their Cattle about -theyr owne houses, or in remote and shadie Valleyes: so that shee -could see no other creatures to comfort her, but Swannes swimming in -the River of _Arno_, and wishing her selfe there a thousand times with -them, for to coole the extreamity of her thirst, which so much the more -encreased, onely by the sight thereof, and utterly disabled of having -any. - -She saw beside in many places about her, goodly Woods, fayre coole -shades, and Country houses here and there dispersed; which added the -greater violence to hir affliction, that her desires (in all these) -could no way be accomplished. What shall I say more concerning this -disastrous Lady? The parching beames of the Sunne above her, the -scalding heat of the Lead beneath her, the Hornets and Flyes everie -way stinging her, had made such an alteration of her beautifull bodie: -that, as it checkt and controlled the precedent nights darkenesse, it -was now so metamorphosed with rednesse, yea, and blood issuing forth -in infinite places, as she seemed (almost) loathsome to looke on, -continuing still in this agonie of torment, quite voyde of all hope, -and rather expecting death, then any other comfort. - -_Reniero_, when some three houres of the afternoone were overpast, -awaked from sleeping: and remembring Madame _Helena_, he went to see -in what estate she was; as also to send his servant unto dinner, -because he had fasted all that day. She perceyving his arrivall, being -altogether weake, faint, and wonderously over-wearied, she crept on -her knees to a corner of the Turret, and calling to him, spake in this -manner. _Reniero_, thy revenge exceedeth al manhoode and respect: For, -if thou wast almost frozen in my Court, thou hast roasted me all day -long on this Tower, yea, meerly broyled my poore naked bodie, beside -starving mee thorough want of Food and drinke. Be now then so mercifull -(for manhoods sake) as to come uppe hither, and inflict that on me, -which mine owne hands are not strong enough to do, I meane the ending -of my loathed and wearisome life, for I desire it beyond all comfort -else, and I shall honour thee in the performance of it. If thou deny me -this gracious favour; at least send me uppe a glasse of Water, onely to -moisten my mouth, which my teares (being all meerly dried up) are not -able to doe, so extreame is the violence of the Sunnes burning heate. - -Well perceived the Scholler, by the weaknesse of her voyce, and -scorching of her body by the Suns parching beames, that shee was -brought now to great extremity: which sight, as also her humble -intercession, began to touch him with some compassion, nevertheles, -thus he replied. Wicked woman, my hands shall be no means of thy death, -but make use of thine owne, if thou be so desirous to have it: and as -much water shalt thou get of me to asswage thy thirst, as thou gavest -me fire to comfort my freezing, when thou wast in the luxurious heat of -thy immodest desires, and I wel-neere frozen to death with extremity of -cold. Pray that the Evening may raine downe Rose-water on thee, because -that in the River of _Arno_ is not good enough for thee: for as little -pitty doe I take on thee now, as thou didst extend compassion to me -then. - -Miserable Woman that I am, answered _Helena_; Why did the heavens -bestow beautie on mee, which others have admired and honoured, and yet -(by thee) is utterly despised? More cruell art thou then any savage -Beast; thus to vexe and torment mee in such mercilesse manner. What -greater extreamity couldst thou inflict on me, if I had bin the -destruction of all thy Kindred, and lefte no one man living of thy -race? I am verily perswaded, that more cruelty cannot be used against -a Traitor, who was the subversion of a whole Cittie, then this tyranny -of thine, roasting me thus in the beames of the Sun, and suffering my -body to be devoured with Flies, without so small a mercie; as to give -mee a little coole water, which murtherers are permitted to have, being -condemned by Justice, and led to execution: yea Wine also, if they -request it. - -But, seeing thou art so constant in thy pernitious resolve, as neither -thine owne good Nature, nor this lamentable sufferance in me, are able -to alter thee: I will prepare my self for death patiently, to the -end, that Heaven may be mercifull to my soul, and reward thee justly, -according to thy cruelty. Which words being ended, she withdrew her -selfe towards the middest of the Tarras, despairing of escaping (with -life) from the heates violence; and not once onely, but infinite times -beside (among her other grievous extreamities) she was ready to dye -with drought, bemoaning incessantly her dolorous condition. - -By this time the day was well neere spent, and night beganne to -hasten on apace: when the Scholler (immagining that he afflicted her -sufficiently) tooke her Garments, and wrapping them up in his mans -Cloake, went thence to the Ladies house, where he found _Ancilla_ the -Waiting-woman sitting at the doore, sad and disconsolate for her Ladies -long absence, to whom thus he spake. How now _Ancilla_? Where is thy -Lady and Mistris? Alas Sir (quoth she) I know not. I thought this -morning to have found her in her bed, as usually I was wont to do, and -where I left her yesternight at our parting: but there she was not, nor -in any place else of my knowledge, neyther can I imagine what is become -of her, which is to me no meane discomfort. - -But can you (Sir) say any thing of her? _Ancilla_, said he, I would -thou hadst bin in her company, and at the same place where now she is, -that some punishment for thy fault might have falne uppon thee, as -already it hath done on her. But beleeve it assuredly, that thou shalt -not freely escape from my fingers, till I have justly paide thee for -thy paines, to teach thee to abuse any Gentleman, as thou didst me. - -Having thus spoken, hee called to his servant, saying. Give her the -Garments, and bid her go looke her Lady, if she will. The Servingman -fulfilled his Masters command, and _Ancilla_ having receyved her Ladies -cloaths, knowing them perfectly, and remembring (withall) what had -bin said: she waxed very doubtfull, least they had slaine her, hardly -refraining from exclaiming on them, but that greefe and heavie weeping -overcame her; so that uppon the Schollers departing, she ranne in all -hast with the garments towardes the Tower. - -Upon this fatall and unfortunate day to Madame _Helena_, it chanced, -that a Clowne or Countrey Peazant belonging to her Farme or Dairy -house, having two of his young Heyfers wandred astray, and he -labouring in diligent search to finde them: within a while after the -Schollers departure, came to seeke them in Woods about the Tower, and, -notwithstanding all his crying and calling for his beasts, yet he -heard the Ladies greevous moanes and lamentations. Wherefore, he cryed -out so lowd as he could, saying: Who is it that mourneth so aloft on -the Tower? Full well she knew the voyce of her peazant, and therefore -called unto him, and sayd in this manner. - -Go (quoth she) I pray thee for my Waiting-woman _Ancilla_, and bid her -make some meanes to come up hither to me. The Clowne knowing his Lady, -sayde. How now Madame? Who hath carried you up there so high? Your -Woman _Ancilla_ hath sought for you all this day, yet no one could ever -have immagined you to bee there. So looking about him, he espyed the -two sides of the Ladder, which the Scholler had pulled in sunder; as -also the steppes, which he had scattered thereabout; placing them in -due order againe as they should bee, and binding them fast with Withies -and Willowes. - -By this time _Ancilla_ was come thither, who so soone as shee was -entred into the Tower, could not refrain from teares & complaints, -beating her hands each against other, and crying out. Madam, Madam, my -deare Lady and Mistresse! Alas, Where are you? So soone as she heard -the tongue of _Ancilla_, she replyed (so well as she could) saying: Ah -my sweet Woman, I am heere aloft uppon the Tarras; weepe not, neyther -make any noyse, but quickely bring me some of my Garments. When shee -heard her answer in such comfortable manner, she mounted up the Ladder, -which the peazant had made very firme and strong, holding it fast -for her safer ascending; by which meanes she went upon the Tarras. -Beholding her Ladie in so strange a condition, resembling no humane -body, but rather the trunke of a Tree halfe burned, lying flat on her -face, naked, scorched and strangely deformed: shee beganne to teare the -lockes of her owne hayre, raving and raging in as pittifull manner, -as if her Ladie had beene quite dead. Which storming tempest, Madame -_Helena_ soone pacified, entreating her to use silence, and helpe to -put on her garments. - -Having understood by her, that no one knew of her being there, but such -as brought her cloathes, and the poore peazant, attending there still -to do her any service: shee became the better comforted, entreating -them by all meanes, that it might bee concealed from any further -discovery, which was on eyther side, most faithfullie protested. - -The poore Clowne holpe to beare downe his Lady uppon his backe, because -the Ladder stood not conveniently enough for her descending, neither -were her limbes plyable for her owne use, by reason of their rifts and -smarting. _Ancilla_ following after, and being more respective of her -Lady, then her owne security in descending; missing the step in the -midst of the Ladder, fell downe to the ground, and quite brake her -legge in the fall, the paine whereof was so greevous to her, that she -cried and roared extraordinarily, even like a Lyon in the desert. - -When the Clowne had set his Lady safe on a faire green banke, he -returned to see what the waiting woman ayled, and finding her leg to -be quite broken: he caried her also to the same banke, & there seated -her by her Lady: who perceiving what a mischance had hapned, and she, -from whom she expected her onely best helpe, to bee now in far greater -necessity her selfe: shee lamented exceedingly, complaining on Fortunes -cruel malice toward her, in thus heaping one misery upon another, and -never ceasing to torment her, especially now in the conclusion of all, -and when shee thought all future perils to be past. - -Now was the Sun upon his setting, when the poore honest country-man, -because darke night should not overtake them, conducted the Lady home -to his owne house: and gaining the assistance of his two brethren and -wife, setting the waiting-woman in a Chaire, thither they brought -her in like manner. And questionles, there wanted no diligence and -comfortable language, to pacifie the Ladyes continuall lamentations. -The good wife, led the Lady into hir own poore lodging, where (such -cates as they had to feede on) lovingly she set before her: conveying -her afterward into her owne bed, and taking such good order, that -_Ancilla_ was carried in the night time to _Florence_, to prevent all -further ensuing danger, by reason of her legs breaking. - -Madame _Helena_, to colour this misfortune of her owne: as also the -great mishap of her woman: forged an artificiall and cunning tale, to -give some formall apparance of hir being in the Tower, perswading the -poore simple Country people, that in a straunge accident of thunder and -lightning, and by the illusions of wicked spirits, all this adventure -hapned to her. Then Physitians were sent for; who, not without much -anguish and affliction to the Ladie (by reason of her fleshes flaying -off, with the Medicines and Emplaysters applyed to the body) was glad -to suffer whatsoever they did, beside falling into a very dangerous -Feaver; out of which she was not recovered in a long while after, but -continued in daily dispayre of her life; beside other accidents hapning -in her time of Physicke, utterly unavoydable in such extreamities: and -hardly had _Ancilla_ her legge cured. - -By this unexpected pennance imposed on Madame _Helena_, she utterly -forgot her amorous friend, and (from thence forward) carefully kept -her selfe from fond loves allurements, and such scornfull behaviour, -wherein she was most disorderly faulty. And _Reniero_ the Scholler, -understanding that _Ancilla_ had broken her leg, which he reputed as a -punishment sufficient for her, held himselfe satisfyed, because neither -the Mistresse nor her Maide, could now make any great boast, of his -nights hard entertainment, and so concealed all matters else. - -Thus a wanton-headed Lady, could finde no other subject to worke her -mocking folly on, but a learned Scholler, of whom shee made no more -respect, then any other ordinary man. Never remembring, that such men -are expert (I cannot say all, but the greater part of them) to helpe -the frenzie of foolish Ladies, that must injoy their loose desires, by -Negromancy, and the Divelles meanes. Let it therefore (faire Ladies) -be my loving admonition to you, to detest all unwomanly mocking and -scorning, but more especiallie to Schollers. - - - - -_Two neere dwelling Neighbours, the one beeing named_ Spinelloccio -Tavena, _and the other_ Zeppa di Mino, _frequenting each others company -daily together;_ Spinelloccio _Cuckolded his Friend and Neighbour. -Which happening to the knowledge of_ Zeppa, _he prevailed so well with -the Wife of_ Spinelloccio, _that he being lockt up in a Chest, he -revenged his wrong at that instant, so that neither of them complained -of his misfortune._ - -The Eight Novell. - -_Wherein is approved, that he which offereth shame and disgrace to his -Neighbour; may receive the like injury (if not in worse manner) by the -same man._ - - -Greevous, and full of compassion, appeared the hard Fortunes of Madame -_Helena_ to be, having much discontented, and (well-neere) wearied all -the Ladies in hearing them recounted. But because they were very justly -inflicted upon her, and according as (in equity) shee had deserved, -they were the more moderate in their commisseration: howbeit, they -reputed the Scholler not onely over-obstinate, but also too strict, -rigorous and severe. Wherefore, when Madame _Pampinea_ had finished hir -Novell, the Queene gave command to Madame _Fiammetta_, that she should -follow next with her discourse; whereto shee shewing obedience, thus -beganne. - -Because it appeareth in my judgement (faire Ladyes) that the Schollers -cruelty hath much displeased you, making you more melancholly then -this time requireth: I holde it therefore very convenient, that your -contristed spirits should be chearfully revived, with matter more -pleasing and delightfull. And therefore, I mean to report a Novell of a -certaine man, who tooke an injury done him, in much milder manner, and -revenged his wrong more moderately, then the furious incensed Scholler -did. Whereby you may comprehend, that it is sufficient for any man, and -so he ought to esteeme it, to serve another with the same sawce, which -the offending party caused him first to taste of: without coveting any -stricter revenge, then agreeth with the quality of the injury received. - -Know then (Gracious assembly) that, as I have heretofore heard, there -lived not long since in _Sienna_, two young men, of honest parentage -and equall condition, neither of the best, nor yet the meanest calling -in the City: the one being named _Spinelloccio Tavena_, and the other -tearmed _Zeppa di Mino_, their houses Neighbouring together in the -streete _Camollia_. Seldome the one walked abroade without the others -Company, and their houses allowed equall welcome to them both; so that -by outward demonstrations, & inward mutuall affection, as far as humane -capacity had power to extend, they lived and loved like two Brethren, -they both beeing wealthy, and married unto two beautifull women. - -It came to passe, that _Spinelloccio_, by often resorting to the -house of _Zeppa_, as well in his absence, as when he abode at home; -beganne to glance amorous looks on _Zeppaes_ wife, and pursued his -unneighbourly purpose in such sort: that hee being the stronger -perswader, and she (belike) too credulous in beleeving, or else -over-feeble in resisting; from private imparlance, they fell to action; -and continued their close fight a long while together, unseene and -without suspition, no doubt to their equall joy and contentment. - -But, whether as a just punishment, for breaking so loving a league of -friendship and neighbour-hood, or rather a fatall infliction, evermore -attending on the closest Cuckoldry, their felicity still continuing -in this kinde: it fortuned on a day, _Zeppa_ abiding within doors, -contrary to the knowledge of his wife, _Spinelloccio_ came to enquire -for him, and she answering (as she verily supposed) that he was gon -abroad: uppe they went both together into the Hall, and nobodie -being there to hinder what they intended, they fell to their wonted -recreation without any feare, kissing and embracing as Lovers use to do. - -_Zeppa_ seeing all this, spake not one word, neither made any noise at -all; but kept himselfe closely hidden, to observe the yssue of this -amorous conflict. To be briefe, he saw _Spinelloccio_ goe with his wife -into the Chamber, and make the doore fast after them, whereat he could -have beene angry, which he held to be no part of true wisedome. For he -knew well enough, that to make an out crie in this case, or otherwise -to reveale this kinde of injury, it could no way make it lesse, but -rather give a greater addition of shame and scandall: he thought this -no course for him to take; wiser considerations entred his braine, to -have this wrong fully revenged, yet with such a discreete and orderly -carriage, as no neighbours knowledge should by any meanes apprehend it, -or the least signe of discontent in himselfe blabbe it, because they -were two daungerous evils. - -Many notable courses wheeled about his conceit, every one promising -fairely, and ministring meanes of formall apparance, yet one (above -the rest) wonne his absolute allowance, which he intended to prosecute -as best he might. In which resolution, he kept still very close, so -long as _Spinelloccio_ was with his Wife; but hee being gone, he went -into the Chamber, where he found his wife, amending the forme of her -head attyre, which _Spinelloccio_ had put into a disordred fashion. -Wife (quoth he) what art thou doing? Why? Do you not see Husband? -answered she. Yes that I do wife, replied _Zeppa_, and something else -happened to my sight, which I could wish that I had not seene. Rougher -Language growing betweene them, of his avouching, and her as stout -denying, with defending her cause over-weakely, against the manifest -proofes both of eye and eare; at last she fell on her knees before -him, weeping incessantly, and no excuses now availing, she confest her -long acquaintance with _Spinelloccio_, and most humbly entreated him -to forgive her. Uppon the which penitent confession and submission, -_Zeppa_ thus answered. - -Wife, if inward contrition be answerable to thy outward seeming sorrow, -then I make no doubt, but faithfully thou dost acknowledge thine owne -evill dooing: for which, if thou expectest pardon of me; determine -then to fulfill effectually, such a busines as I must enjoyne, and -thou performe. I command thee to tell _Spinelloccio_, that to morrow -morning, about nine of the clocke, we being both abroad walking, he -must finde some apt occasion to leave my company, and then come hither -to visit thee. When he is here, sodainly will I returne home; and upon -thy hearing of my entraunce: to save his owne credite, and thee from -detection, thou shalt require him to enter this Chest, untill such time -as I am gone forth againe; which he doing, for both your safeties, so -soon as he is in the chest, take the key and locke him up fast. When -thou hast effected this, then shall I acquaint thee with the rest -remaining, which also must be done by thee, without dread of the least -harme to him or thee, because there is no malicious meaning in me, but -such as (I am perswaded) thou canst not justly mislike. The wife, to -make some satisfaction for her offence committed, promised that she -would performe it, and so she did. - -On the morrow morning, the houre of nine being come, when _Zeppa_ -and _Spinelloccio_ were walking abroad together, _Spinelloccio_ -remembring his promise unto his Mistresse, and the clocke telling him -the appointed houre, hee saide to _Zeppa_. I am to dine this day with -an especiall friend of mine, who I would be loath should tarry for my -comming; and therefore holde my departure excused. How now? answered -_Zeppa_, the time for dinner is yet farre enough off, wherefore then -should we part so soone? Yea but _Zeppa_, replied _Spinelloccio_, wee -have weighty matters to confer on before dinner, which will require -three houres space at the least, and therefore it behoveth me to -respect due time. - -_Spinelloccio_ being departed from Zeppa (who followed faire and softly -after him) being come to the house, and kindly welcommed by the wife: -they were no sooner gone up the staires, and entering in at the Chamber -doore; but the Woman heard her Husband cough, and also his comming up -the staires. Alas deare _Spinelloccio_ (quoth she) what shall we do? My -Husband is comming uppe, and we shall be both taken tardie, step into -this Chest, lye downe there and stirre not, till I have sent him forth -againe, which shall be within a very short while. _Spinelloccio_ was -not a little joyfull for her good advice; downe in the Chest lay he, -and she lockt him in: by which time _Zeppa_ was entred the Chamber. -Where are you Wife? said he, (speaking so loud, as hee in the Chest -might heare him) What, is it time to go to dinner? It will be anon Sir, -answered she, as yet it is overearly; but seeing you are come, the more -hast shall be made, and every thing will be ready quickly. - -_Zeppa_, sitting downe upon the Chest, wherein _Spinelloccio_ lay not a -little affrighted, speaking still aloud, as formerly he did: Come hither -Wife (quoth he) how shall we do for some good companie to dine with -us? Mine honest kinde neighbour _Spinelloccio_ is not at home, because -he dineth forth to day with a deare friend of his, by which meanes, -his wife is left at home alone: give her a call out at our Window, and -desire her to come dine with us: for we two can make no merry Musicke, -except some more come to fill up the consort. - -His Wife being very timorous, yet diligent to doe whatsoever he -commanded, so prevailed with the Wife of _Spinelloccio_: that she came -to them quickely, and so much the rather, because her Husband dined -abroad. Shee being come up into the Chamber, _Zeppa_ gave her most -kinde entertainment, taking her gently by the hand, and winking on his -Wife, that she should betake her selfe to the kitchin, to see dinner -speedily prepared, while he sat conversing with his neighbour in the -Chamber. - -His wife being gone, he shut the doore after her, which the new-come -Neighbour perceyving, she sayde. Our blessed Lady defend me. _Zeppa_, -What is your meaning in this? Have you caused me to come hither to -this intent? Is this the love you beare to _Spinelloccio_, and your -professed loyalty in friendshippe? _Zeppa_, seating her downe on the -Chest, wherein her Husband was inclosed, entreating her patience, thus -began. Kinde and loving Neighbour, before you adventure too farre in -anger, vouchsafe to heare what I shall tell you. - -I have loved, and still doe love, _Spinelloccio_ as my brother, but -yesterday (albeit he knoweth it not) I found, the honest trust I -reposed in him, deserved no other, or better recompence, but even to be -bold with my wife, in the selfesame manner as I am, and as hee ought -to do with none but you. Now, in regard of the love which I beare him, -I intend to be no otherwise revenged on him, but in the same kinde as -the offence was committed. He hath bin more then familiar with my wife, -I must borrow the selfe-same courtesie of you, which in equity you -cannot deny mee, weighing the wrong you have sustained by my wife. Our -injuries are alike, in your Husband to me, and in my wife to you: let -then their punishment and ours be alike also, as they, so we; for in -this case there can be no juster revenge. - -The Woman hearing this, and perceiving the manifolde confirmations -thereof, protested (on solemne oath) by _Zeppa_; hir beliefe grew -setled, and thus she answered. My loving neighbour** _Zeppa_, seeing this -kinde of revenge is (in meere justice) imposed on mee, and ordained as -a due scourge, as well to the breach of friendship and neighbour-hood, -as abuse of his true and loyall wife: I am the more willing to consent: -alwaies provided, that it be no imbarrement of love betweene your wife -and mee, albeit I have good reason to alledge, that she began the -quarrell first: and what I do is but to right my wrong, as any other -woman of spirit would do: Afterwards, we may the more easily pardon one -another. For breach of peace (answered _Zeppa_) between my wife and -you, take my honest word for your warrant. Moreover, in requitall of -this favour to mee, I will bestowe a deare and precious Jewell on you, -excelling all the rest which you have beside. - -In delivering these words, he sweetly kissed and embraced her, as -she sat on the Chest wherein her husband lay: now, what they did -else beside, in recompence of the wrong received, I leave to your -imagination, as rather deserving silence, then immodest blabbing. -_Spinelloccio_, being all this while in the Chest, hearing easily all -the words which _Zeppa_ had uttered, the answer of his wife, as also -what Musicke they made over his head: you may guesse in what a case -he was, his heart being ready to split with rage, and, but that hee -stood in feare of _Zeppa_, he would have railde and exclaimed on his -wife, as thus hee lay shut up in the Chest. But entering into better -consideration, that so great an injury was first begun by himselfe, & -_Zeppa_ did no more, then in reason and equity he might well do (having -evermore carried himselfe like a kinde neighbour and frend towards him, -without the least offer of distaste) he faithfully resolved, to be a -firmer friend to _Zeppa_ then formerly hee had bin, if it might be -embraced and accepted on the other side. - -Delights and pleasures, be they never so long in contenting and -continuance, yet they come to a period and conclusion at last: So -_Zeppa_, having ended his amorous combate, and over the head of -his perfidious friend, thought himselfe sufficiently revenged. But -now, in consideration of a further promise made on the bargaine; -_Spinelloccioes_ wife challengeth the Jewell, then which kind of -recompence, nothing can be more welcome to women. Heereupon, _Zeppa_ -calling for his owne wife, commanded her to open the Chest; which shee -did, and he merrily smiling, saide. Well wife, you have given mee -a Cake insted of bread, and you shall lose nothing for your labour. -So _Spinelloccio_ comming forth of the Chest, it requireth a better -witte then mine, to tell you, which of them stood most confounded with -shame, either _Spinelloccio_ seeing _Zeppa_, and knowing well enough -what he had done: or the woman beholding her husband, who easily heard -all their familiar conference, and the action thereupon so deservedly -performed. - -See neighbour, is not this your dearest Jewell? Having kept it awhile -in my wives custody; according to my promise, here I deliver it you. -_Spinelloccio_ being glad of his deliverance out of the Chest, albeit -not a little ashamed of himselfe; without using many impertinent -words, saide. _Zeppa_, our wrongs are equally requited on each other, -and therefore I allow thy former speeches to my Wife, that thou wast -my friend, as I am the like to thee, and so I pray thee let us still -continue. For nothing else is now to bee divided betweene us, seeing -we have shared alike in our wives, which none knowing but our selves, -let it be as closely kept to our selves. _Zeppa_ was wel pleased with -the motion, and so all foure dined lovingly together, without any -variance or discontentment. And thence forward, each of the Women had -two Husbands, as either Husband enjoyed two Wives, without further -contention or debate. - - - - -_Maestro_ Simone, _an ydle-headed Doctor of Physicke, was throwne by_ -Bruno _and_ Buffalmaco, _into a common Leystall of Filth: The Physitian -fondly beleeving, that (in the night time) he should bee made one of a -new created Company, who usually went to see wonders, at_ Corsica; _and -there in the Leystall they left him._ - -The Ninth Novell. - -_Wherein is approved, that Titles of Honour, Learning, and Dignity, are -not alwayes bestowne on the wisest men._ - - -After that the Ladies had a while considered, on the communication -betweene the two Wives of _Sienna_, and the falshood in friendship of -their Husbands: the Queene, who was the last to recount her Novell, -without offering injurie to _Dioneus_, began to speake thus. - -The reward for a precedent Wrong committed, which _Zeppa_ retorted upon -_Spinelloccio_, was answerable to his desert, and no more then equity -required, in which respect, I am of opinion, that such men ought not to -be over-sharpely reproved, as do injurie to him, who seeketh for it, -and justly should have it, althogh Madam _Pampinea_ (not long since) -avouched the contrary. Now, it evidently appeareth, that _Spinelloccio_ -well deserved what was done to him, and I purpose to speake of another, -who needs would seeke after his owne disgrace. The rather to confirme -my former speeches, that they which beguile such wilfull foolish men; -are not to bee blamed, but rather commended. And he unto whom the shame -was done, was a Physitian, which came from _Bologna_ to _Florence_; and -returned thither againe like unto a Beast, notoriously baffulled and -disgraced. - -It is a matter well knowne to us, and (almost) observed day by day, -that divers of our Citizens, when they returne from their studying -at _Bologna_: one becommeth an Advocate, another a Physitian, and a -third a Notarie, with long & large gowns, some of Scarlet, and hoods -furred with Minever, beside divers other great apparances, succeeding -effectually daily in their severall kinds. Among whom, there returned -(not long since) thence, one Master _Simon da Villa_, more rich in -possessions left him by his parents, then anie knowledge thereto -obtained: yet cloathed in Scarlet, with his Miniver hood, and styled -a Doctor of Physicke, which title hee onely bestowed on himselfe, and -tooke a goodly house for his dwelling, in the street which wee commonly -call _La via del Cocomero_. This Master Doctor _Simon_, being thus -newly come thither, among other notable qualities in him, had one more -especial then any of the rest, namely, to know the names and conditions -of such persons, as daily passed by his doore, and what professions -they were of, whereby any likelyhood might be gathered of needing his -helpe, and being his patients, observing them all with very vigilant -care. - -But, among all the rest by him thus warily noted, he most observed -two Painters, of whom we have heeretofore twice discoursed, _Bruno_ -and _Buffalmaco_, who walked continually together, and were his neere -dwelling neighbours. The matter which most of al he noted in them, -was; that they lived merrily, and with much lesse care, then any else -in the Cittie beside, and verily they did so in deede. Wherefore, he -demanded of divers persons, who had good understanding of them both, -of what estate and condition they were. And hearing by every one, -that they were but poore men & Painters: he greatly mervailed, how it -could be possible for them, that they should live so jocondly, and in -such poverty. It was related to him further beside, that they were -men of a quicke and ingenious apprehension, whereby hee politikely -imagined, that theyr poore condition could not so well maintaine them; -without some courses else, albeit not publiquely knowne unto men, yet -redounding to their great commoditie and profite. In which regard, he -grew exceeding desirous, by what meanes he might become** acquainted, and -grow into familiarity with them both, or any of them, at the least; -wherein (at the length) he prevailed, and _Bruno_ proved to be the man. - -Now _Bruno_ plainly perceiving (within a short while of this new -begun acquaintance) that the Physitian was a Logger-head, and meerely -no better then a _Gregorian_ Animall: he beganne to have much good -pastime with him, by telling him strange and incredible Tales, such -as none but a Coxcombe would give credit too; yet they delighted -Doctor Dunce extraordinarily, and _Brunoes_ familiarity was so highly -pleasing to him, that he was a daily guest at dinner and supper with -him, and hee was not meanly proud of enjoying his company. One day, -as they sate in familiar conference together, he told _Bruno_ that he -wondred not a little at him and _Buffalmaco_, they being both so poore -people, yet lived far more jovially then Lords, and therefore desired -to understand, by what secret meanes they compassed such mirthfull -maintenance. _Bruno_, hearing the Doctors demaund, & perceiving that it -favoured more of the foole, then any the very least taste of wisedome: -smiled unto himselfe, and determined to returne him such an answere, as -might be fitting for his folly, whereupon, thus he replied. - -Beleeve me Master Doctor, I would not impart to many people, what -private helpes we have for our maintenance: but yet I dare boldly -acquaint you therewith, in regard you are one of our most intimate -friends, and of such secrecie, as (I know) you will not reveale it to -any. True it is, that mine honest neighbour and my selfe, do leade our -lives in such merry manner as you see, and better then all the world -is aware of, for I cannot imagine you to bee so ignorant, but are -certainly perswaded: that if we had no better means, then our poore -manuall trade and profession; we might sit at home with bread and -water, and be nothing so lively spirited as wee are. Yet Sir, I would -not have you to conceive, that wee do eyther rob or steale, or use any -other unlawfull courses: onely we travayle to _Corsica_, from whence we -bring (without the least prejudice to anie other) all things we stand -in need of, or whatsoever wee can desire. Thus do we maintaine our -selves well and honestly, and live in this mirthfull disposition. - -Master Doctor hearing this Discourse, and beleeving it constantly, -without any further instruction or intelligence: became possessed with -verie much admiration, and had the most earnest desire in the world, to -know what this Travailing to _Corsica_ might meane: entreating _Bruno_ -with very great instances, to tell him what it was, and made many -protestations never to disclose it to anie one. How now Master Doctor? -answered _Bruno_, What a strange motion do you make to mee? It is too -great a secret, which you desire to know, yea, a matter of mine owne -ruine, and an utter expulsion out of this Worlde, with condemnation -into the mouth of _Lucifer da San Gallo_, if any man whatsoever should -know it from me, wherefore I pray you to urge it no more. O my deer and -honest neighbour _Bruno_ (quoth the Doctor) assure thy selfe upon my -soul, that whatsoever thou revealest to me, shall be under seale from -all, but onely our selves. Fie, fie Master Doctor, answered _Bruno_, -you are too pressing and importunate. So sitting smiling to himselfe, -shaking his head, and beating his breast, as if hee were in some -straunge distraction of minde, stamping with his feete, and beating his -Fiste oftentimes on the Table, at last he started uppe, and spake in -this manner. - -Ah Master Doctor, the love I beare to your capricious and rarely -circumcised experience, and likewise the confidence I repose in your -scrutinous taciturnitie, are both of such mighty and prevailing power; -as I cannot conceale any thing from you, which you covet to know. And -therefore, if you will sweare unto me by the crosse of _Monteson_, that -never (as you have already faithfully promised) you will disclose a -secret so admirable; I will relate it unto you, and not otherwise. The -Doctor sware, and sware againe, and then _Bruno_ thus began. - -Know then my learned and judicious Doctor, that it is not long time -since, when there lived in this Citie of ours, a man very excellent in -the Art of Nigromancie, who named himselfe _Michale Scoto_, because he -was a Scottishman borne, of many woorthy Gentlemen (very few of them -being now living) hee was much honoured and respected. When he grew -desirous to depart from hence, upon their earnest motion and entreaty; -he left here two of his Schollers behinde him, men of absolute skill -and experience: giving them especial charge and command, to do all -possible services they could devise, for those Gentlemen who had so -highly honoured him. The two famous Schollers, were very helpefull to -those Gentlemen, in divers of their amorous occasions, and verie many -other matters besides. - -Not long after, they finding the Citie, and behaviour of the people -sufficiently pleasing to them; they resolved on their continuance -heere, entering into a league of love and friendshippe with divers, -never regarding, whether they were Gentlemen, or no, or distinguishing -the poore from the rich: but only in being conforme to their -complexions, sociable and fit for friendship. - -They created a kinde Society, consisting of about five and twenty men, -who should meete together twice in a moneth, & in a place reputed -convenient for them: where being so assembled, every man uttered his -minde to those two Schollers, in such cases as they most desired, to -have wherewith they were all satisfied the self-same night. It came so -to passe, that _Buffalmaco_ and I, grew into acquaintance with those -two worthy Schollers, and our private familiarity together proved -so prosperous, that we were admitted into the same Society, and so -have ever since continued. Now Sir, I am to tell you matter deserving -admiration, & which (in very good judgements) would seeme to exceed all -beleefe. - -For, at every time when we were assembled together: you are not able -to imagine, what sumptuous hangings of Tapistrie, did adorne the Hall -where we sate at meate, the Tables covered in such Royall manner, -waited on by numberlesse Noble and goodly attendants, both Women and -Men, serving readily, at each mans command of the company. The Basins, -Ewers, Pots, Flaggons, & all the vessels else which stood before, and -for the service of our diet, being composed onely of Gold and Silver, -and out of no worse did we both eate and drinke: the viands being very -rare and dainty, abounding in plenty and variety, according to the -appetite of everie person, as nothing could be wished for, but it was -instantly obtained. - -In good sadnesse Sir, I am not able to remember and tell you (within -the compasse of a thousand yeares) what, and how manie severall -kindes of Musicall Instruments, were continually played on before us; -what multiplicity of Waxe lights burned in all partes of the roomes; -neither the excessive store of rich Drugs, Marchpanes, Comfites, and -rare Banquetting stuffe, consumed there at one Feasting, wherein there -wanted no bounty of the best and purest wines. Nor do I (Master Doctor) -repute you so weakly witted, as to think, that in the time of our -being thus assembled there, any of us al were cloathed in such simple -and meane Garments, as ordinarily are worne in the streets on mens -bodies, or any so silly as the verie best you have: No Sir, not any one -man among us, but appeared by his apparrell, equall to the greatest -Emperour on the earth, his robe most sumptuously imbroidered with -precious stones, Pearles, and Carbuncles, as all the world affoordeth -not the like. But above all the rest, the delights and pleasures there, -are beyond my capacity to expresse, or (indeede) any comparison: as -namely, store of goodly and beautifull women, brought thither from all -parts of the world; alwayes provided, if men bee desirous of their -company: but for your easier comprehension, I will make some briefe -relation of them to you, according as I heard them there named. - -There is the great Lady of _Barbanicchia_; the Queene of _Baschia_; -the Wife to the great _Soldane_, the Empresse of _Osbeccho_; the -_Ciancianfera_ of _Norniera_; the _Bemistante_ of _Berlinzona_;** and the -_Scalpedra_ of _Narsia_. But why do I breake my braine, in numbering up -so many to you? All the Queenes of the world are there, even so farre -as to the _Schinchimurra_ of _Prester John_, that hath a horne in the -midst of her posteriores, albeit not visible to every eye. - -Now I am further to tell you, that after we have tasted a Cup of -precious Wine, fed on a few delicate Comfits, and danced a dance or two -to the rare Musicke: every one taketh a Lady by the hand, of whom he -pleaseth to make his election, and she conducteth him to her Chamber, -in very grave and gracious manner. Concerning the Chambers there, -each of them resembleth a Paradise to looke on, they are so faire and -goodly; and no lesse odorifferous in smell, then the sweetest perfumes -in your Apothecaries shoppes, or the rare compounds of Spices, when -they are beaten in an open Morter. And as for the Beds, they are -infinitely richer, then the verie costliest belonging to the Duke of -_Venice_: yet (in such) each man is appointed to take his rest, the -Musicke of rare Cymbals lasting all night long, much better to be by -you considered, then in my rude eloquence expressed. - -But of all those rich and sumptuous Beds (if pride of mine owne -opinion do not deceive me) them two provided for _Buffalmaco_ and me, -had hardly any equall: he having the Queene of _France_ as his Lady -and Mistresse, and I, the renowned Queene of _England_, the onely -two choise beauties of the whole World, and wee appeared so pleasing -in their eyes, as they would have refused the greatest Monarkes on -the earth, rather then to bee rejected by us. Now therefore, you may -easily consider with your selfe, what great reason we have to live more -merrily, then any other men can doe: in regard we enjoy the gracious -favour of two such Royall Queenes, receyving also from them (whensoever -wee please to commaund them) a thousand or two thousand Florines at the -least, which are both truly and duly sent us. Enjoying thus the benefit -of this high happinesse, we that are companions of this Society, do -tearme it in our vulgar Language, _The Pyrats voyage to Corsica_. -Because, as Rovers or Pyrats robbe and take away the goodes of such as -they meete withall, even so do we: only there remaineth this difference -betweene us, that they never restore what they have taken: which we do -immediately afterward, whether it be required or no. And thus Master -Doctor, as to my most endeered friend, I have now revealed the meaning -of sayling to _Corsica_, after the manner of our private Pyracie, -and how important the close retention of the voiage is, you are best -able your selfe to judge: In which regarde, remember your Oathes and -faithfull promises, or else I am undone forever. - -Our worthy wise Doctor, whose best skill scarsely extended so farre, as -to cure the itch in Children; gave such sound beleefe to the relation -of _Bruno_, as any man could doe, to the most certaine truth of life or -death: having his desire immeasurably enflamed, to bee made a member of -this straunge Societie, which hee more coveted, then any thing in the -world beside, accounting it a felicity farre beyond all other. - -Whereupon he answered _Bruno_, that it was no great matter of mervaile, -if he lived so merrily as he did, having such a singular supply, to -avoide all necessities whatsoever: and very hardly could he refraine -from immediate request, to be accepted into the company. But yet he -thought fit to deferre it further, untill he had made _Bruno_ more -beholding to him, by friendly entertainments and other courtesies, when -he might (with better hope) be bold to move the motion. - -Well may you conceive, that nothing more hammerd in the Doctors head, -then this rare voyage to _Corsica_, and _Bruno_ was his daily guest -at dinner and supper, with such extraordinary apparances of kindnesse -and courtesie, as if the Physitian could not live, except he had the -company of _Bruno_. Who seeing himselfe to bee so lovingly respected, -and hating ingratitude, for favours so abundantly heaped on him: -hee painted the whole story of Lent about his Hall, and an _Agnus -Dei_ fairely gilt, on the portall of his Chamber, as also a goodly -Urinall on his street doore, to the end, that such as had neede of his -counsell, might know where so judicious a Doctour dwelt. In a Gallery -likewise by his Garden, he painted the furious Battaile betweene the -Rats and Cats, which did (not a little) delight Master Doctor. - -Moreover, at such times as Bruno had not supt with our Physitian, he -would bee sure to tell him on the morrow, that the night passed, he -had bin with the Company which he did wot of. And there (quoth he) the -Queene of _England_ having somewhat offended mee, I commanded, that -the _Gomedra_, belonging to the _Grand Cham_ of _Tartaria_, should -be brought me, and instantly shee was. What may be the meaning of -_Gomedra_ be? saide the Doctor, I understand not those difficult names. -I beleeve you Sir, answered _Bruno_, nor do I need to marvaile thereat: -and yet I have heard _Porcograsso_ speake, and also _Vannacenna_, and -both unexperienced in our Language. You would say (replyed the Doctour) -_Hippocrates_ and _Avicenna_, who were two admirable Physitians. It may -be so (said _Bruno_) & as hardly do I understand your names, as you -mine: but _Gomedra_, in the _Grand Chams_ language, signifies Empresse -in ours. But had you once seene her Sir, she would make you forget -all Physicall observations, your arguments, receits and medicines, -onely to be in her heavenly presence, which words he used (perceiving -his forward longing) to enflame him the more. Not long after, as the -doctor was holding the candle to _Bruno_, at the perfecting the bloody -Battayle of the Cattes and Rattes, because he could never bee wearied -in his Companie, and therefore was the more willing, to undergoe the -office of the Candle-holder: he resolved to acquaint him with his -minde, and being all alone by themselves, thus he began. - -_Bruno_, as heaven knoweth, there is not this day any creature living, -for whom I would gladly do more, then for thee, and the very least word -of thy mouth, hath power to commaund mee to goe bare-footed, even from -hence so farre as to _Peretola_, and account my labour well employed -for thy sake: wherefore, never wonder at my continuall kindnesse -towards thee, using thee as my Domesticke companion, and embracing -thee as my bosome friend, and therefore I am the bolder in mooving one -request unto thee. As thou well knowest, it is no long while since, -when thou diddest acquaint me with the behaviour of the _Corsicane_ -Roving Company, to be one in so rare and excellent a Society, such hath -bin my earnest longing ever since, as day nor night have I enjoyed anie -rest, but should thinke my felicity beyond all compare, if I could be -entertained in fellowship among you. - -Nor is this desire of mine but upon great occasion, as thou thy selfe -shalt perceive, if I prove accepted into your Societie, and let me then -be made a mocking stocke for ever, if I cause not to come thither, one -of the most delicate young women, that ever anie eye beheld, and which -I my selfe saw (not above a yeare since) at _Cacavinciglia_, on whom I -bestowed my intirest affection, and (by the best Urinall that ever I -gazed on) would have given her tenne faire _Bologninaes_, to yeeld the -matter I moved to her, which yet I could not (by any meanes) compasse. -Therefore, with all the flowing faculties of my soule I entreate -thee, and all the very uttermost of my all indeede; to instruct me -in those wayes and meanes, whereby I may hope to be a member of you. -Which if thou dooest accomplish for me, and I may finde it effectually -performed: I shall not onely be thy true and loyall friend for ever, -but will honour thee beside, beyond all men living. - -I know thee to bee a man of judgement, deepely informed in all -well-grounded experience: thou seest what a propper, portly, and comely -man I am, how fitly my legges are answerable to my body, my lookes -amiable, lovely, and of Rosie colour; beside I am a Doctor of Physicke, -of which profession (being only most expedient) I thinke you have not -one in your Society. I have many commendable qualities in me, as, -playing on divers instruments, exquisite in singing, and composing rare -ditties, whereof I will instantly sing thee one. And so he began to -sing. - -_Bruno_ was swolne so bigge with desire of laughter, that hee had -scarsely any power to refraine from it: neverthelesse, he made the -best meanes he could devise: and the Song being ended, the Physition -saide. How now _Bruno_? What is thine Opinion of my singing? Beleeve -me Sir, replyed _Bruno_, the Vialles of _Sagginali_, will loose their -very best tunes, in contending against you, so mirilifficially are the -sweet accents of your voice heard. I tell thee truly _Bruno_ (answered -Master Doctor) thou couldst not by any possibility have beleeved it, if -thou hadst not heard it. In good sadness Sir (said _Bruno_) you speake -most truly. I could (quoth the Doctor) sing thee infinite more beside, -but at this time I must forbeare them. Let mee then further informe -thee _Bruno_, that beside the compleat perfections thou seest in me, my -father was a Gentleman, althogh he dwelt in a poore Country village, -and by my mothers side, I am derived from them of _Vallecchio_. -Moreover, as I have formerly shewn thee, I have a goodly Library of -Bookes, yea, and so faire and costly garments, as few Physitians in -_Florence_ have the like. I protest to thee upon my faith, I have one -gowne, which cost me (in readie money) almost an hundred poundes in -_Bagattinoes_, and it is not yet above ten yeares old. Wherefore let -me prevaile with thee, good _Bruno_, to worke so with the rest of thy -friends, that I may bee one of your singular Society; and, by the -honest trust thou reposest in mee, bee boldly sick whensoever thou -wilt, my paines and Physicke shall be freely thine, without the payment -of one single peny. _Bruno_ hearing his importunate words, and knowing -him (as all men else did beside) to be a man of more words then wit, -saide. Master Doctor, snuffe the candle I pray you, and lend me a -little more light with it hitherward, until I have finished the tailes -of these Rats, and then I will answer you. - -When the Rats tailes were fully finished, _Bruno_ declaring by outward -behaviour, that he greatly distasted the matter mooved, thus answered. -Worthy Master Doctor, the courtesies you have already extended towards -me, and the bountifull favours promised beside, I know to be exceeding -great, and farre beyond the compasse of any merit in me. But concerning -your request, albeit in respect of your admired braine and Wisedome, it -is of little or no moment at all; yet it appeareth over-mighty to mee, -and there is not any man now living in the world, that hath the like -Authoritie over me, and can more commaund me, then you (with one poore -syllable) easily may doe: as well in regarde of my Love and Dutie, as -also your singular and sententious speeches, able not onelie to make me -breake a sound and setled resolution, but (almost) to move Mountaines -out of their places, and the more I am in your Learned company, so much -the faster am I lincked unto you, in immooveable affection, so farre -am I in love with your admirable qualities. And had I no other reason, -to affect you in such endeared manner, as I doe; yet because you are -enamoured of so rare a beauty, as you have already related to me, it -onely were a motive sufficient to compell me. But indeed I must needs -tel you, that I have not so much power in this case, as you (perhaps) -do imagine, which barreth me from such forward readines, as otherwise -needed not to be urged. Neverthelesse, having so solemnly ingaged your -faith to me, and no way misdoubting your faithfull secrecy, I shall -instruct you in some meanes to be observed; and it appeareth plainly -to me, that being furnished with such plenty of Bookes, as you are, -and other rich endowments, as you have before rehersed, you cannot but -attaine to the full period of your longing desire. - -Speake boldly thy minde _Bruno_, answered the Doctour: for, I perceive -thou hast no perfect knowledge of me as yet, neither what an especiall -gift I have of secrecy. _Messer Gasparino da Salicete_, when he was -Judge and Potestat over the people of _Forlini_, made choise of mee -(among infinite of his dearest friends) to acquaint with a secret of no -meane moment. And such a faithfull Secretary he found me, as I was the -onely man, that knew his mariage with _Bergamino_; why then should any -distrust be made of me? If it be so as you say Sir (answered _Bruno_) -your credit is the sounder, and I dare the better adventure on your -fidelity: the meanes then which you are to worke by, I shall now direct -you in. - -We have alwayes in this noble Society of ours, a Captaine, and two -Counsellors, which are changed at every six months end. And now at -Christmas next (so neere drawing on) _Buffalmaco_ shall be elected -Captaine, and my selfe one of the Counsellers, for so it is already -agreed on, and orderly set downe. Now, he that is Captain, may doe much -more then any other can, and appoint matters as himselfe pleaseth. -Wherefore I thinke it very expedient, that so soone as possibly you -may, you procure acquaintance with _Buffalmaco_, entreating him with -all respective courtesie. Hee is a man, who when he perceyveth you -to be so wonderfully Wise and discreete, he will be immediatly in -love with you: so, when you have your best senses about you, and your -richest wearing Garments on (alwayes remembred, that your acquaintance -first be fully confirmed) then never feare to urge your request, for he -can have no power at all to denie you; because I have already spoken -of you to him, and find him to stand affected unto you verie intirely: -thus when you have begunne the businesse, leave me to deale with him in -the rest. - -Now trust me kinde friend _Bruno_, replyed the Physitian, I like your -advice exceeding well. For, if hee be a man, that taketh delight to -converse with men of skill and judgement, and you have made the way -for his knowing me: he will then thirst, and long to follow after mee, -to understand the incredible eloquence flowing from me, and the rare -composition of my Musicall Ditties, out of which he may learne no meane -wisedome. When the matter was thus agreed on betweene them, _Bruno_ -departed thence, & acquainted _Buffalmaco_ with everie circumstance: -which made him thinke everie day a yeare, untill he might joyne in the -fooling of Mayster Doctour, according to his owne fancie. Who beeing -also as desirous on the other side, to make one in the _Corsicane_ -Voyage; could take no manner of rest either by day or night, till he -was linked in friendship with _Buffalmaco_, which very quickely after -hee compassed. - -For now there wanted no costly dinners and suppers, with al delicates -could be devised, for the entertainement of _Buffalmaco_ and _Bruno_; -who, like Guests very easie to be invited, where rich wines and good -cheare are never wanting, needed little sending for, because his -house was as familiar to them, as their owne. In the end, when the -Physitian espyed an opportunitie apt for the purpose, he made the same -request to _Buffalmaco_, as formerly hee had done to _Bruno_. Whereat -_Buffalmaco_, sodainly starting, and looking frowningly on _Bruno_, -as if he were extraordinarily incensed against him: clapping his -hand furiously on the Table, he sayde. I sweare by the great God of -_Pasignano_, that I can hardly refrayne from giving thee such a blow on -the face, as should make thy Nose to fall at thy heeles: vile Traitor -as thou art: for none beside thy selfe, could discover so rare and -excellent a secret unto this famous Physitian. The Doctour, with verie -plausible and pleasing tearmes, excused the matter verie artificially; -protesting, that another had revealed it unto him: and after many wise -circumstantiall Allegations, at length hee prevailed so farre, that -_Buffalmaco_ was pacified; who afterwardes turning in kinde manner, -thus hee beganne. - -Master Doctour, you have lived both at _Bologna_, and heere in these -partes with us, having (no doubt) sufficiently understoode, what it is -to carry a close mouth, I meane the true Charracter of taciturnitie. -Questionlesse, you never learned the A. B. C. as now foolish Ideots -do, blabbing their lessons all about the towne, which is much better -apprehended by rumination; and surely (if I be not much deceyved) your -Nativity happened on a Sonday morning, Sol being at that time, Lord of -the ascendent, joyned with _Mercurie_ in a fierie Triplicitie. By such -conference as I have had with _Bruno_, I conceyved (as he himselfe also -did) that you were verie singular in Physicke onely: but it seemeth, -your Studies reached a higher straine, for you have learned, and know -verie skilfullie, how to steale mens hearts from them, yea, to bereave -them of their verie soules, which I perceyve that you can farre better -doe, then any man else living to my knowledge, only by your wise, -witty, judicious, and more then meere _Mercurian_ eloquence, such as I -never heard before. - -The Physitian interrupting him bashfully, turned himselfe unto _Bruno_, -saying. Did not I tell thee this before? Observe what a notable thing -it is, to speake well, and to frequent the company of the Wise. A -thousand other, meerely blockes and dullardes by Nature, could never -so soone comprehend all the particularities of my knowledge, as this -honest and apprehensive man hath done. Thou didst not search into it -halfe so soone, nor (indeed) did I expresse a quarter of my ingenuity -to thee, as (since his comming) hath prodigally flowne from me. - -Well do I remember thy words, that _Buffalmaco_ delighted to be among -men of Wisedome: and have I not now fitted him unto his owne desire? -How thinkest thou _Bruno_? The best (quoth _Bruno_) that any man living -in the World could do. Ah worthy _Buffalmaco_, answered the Physitian: -What wouldst thou then have sayde, if thou hadst seene me at _Bologna_, -where there was neyther great nor small, Doctor nor Scholler, but -thought themselves happy by being in my company? If I ought any debts, -I discharged them with my very wittie words; and whensoever I spake, -I could set them al on a hearty laughter, so much pleasure they tooke -in hearing mee. And when I departed thence, no men in the world could -bee more sorrowfull then they, as desiring nothing more then my -remayning among them, which they expressed so apparantly, that they -made humble suite and intercession to me, to bee cheefe Reader of the -Physicke-Lecture, to all the Schollers studying our profession. But I -could not be so perswaded, because my minde was wholly addicted hither, -to enjoy those Goods, Landes, and Inheritances, belonging lineally to -them of our house, and accordingly I did performe it. - -How now _Buffalmaco_ (quoth _Bruno_) what is thine opinion now? Thou -wouldst not beleeve me when I told thee, that there is not a Doctor in -all these parts, more skilfull in distinguishing the Urine of an Asse, -from any other, then this most expert and singular man: and I dare -boldly maintaine it, that his fellow is not to bee found, from hence -to the very gates of _Paris_. Go then, and doe the uttermost endeavour -that thou canst, to grant the request which he hath made. - -Beleeve me _Buffalmaco_, saide the Doctor, _Bruno_ hath spoken nothing -but truth, for I am scarsely knowne heere in this City, where (for -the most part) they are all grosse-witted people, rather then any jot -judicious; but I would thou hadst seene me among the Doctors, in manner -as I was wont to be. Introth Sire, replyed _Buffalmaco_, you are my -much more Learned then ever I imagined, in which respect, speaking unto -you as it becommeth me, to a man so excellent in wit and understanding: -I dare assure you that (without any faile) I will procure you to be one -of our Company. - -After this promise thus made, the good cheare, favors and kindnesses -done by the Doctor to them, was beyond the compasse of all relation: -whereof they made no more then a meere mockery, flouting him to his -face, and yet his Wisedome could not discerne it. Moreover, they -promised, that they would give him to Wife, the faire Countesse _di -Civillari_, who was the onely goodliest creature to be found in the -whole _Culattario_ of humane generation. The Doctor demanded, what -Countesse that was? Oh Sir, answered _Buffalmaco_, she is a great -Lady, one worthy to have issue by; and few houses are there in the -world, where she hath not some jurisdiction and command: so that not -meane people onely, but even the greatest Lords, at the sound of her -Trumpets, do very gladlie pay her tribute. And I dare boldly affirme, -that whensoever shee walketh to any place, shee yeeldeth a hot and -sensible favour, albeit she keepeth most of all close. Yet once every -night, shee duely observeth it (as a Custome) to passe from her owne -house, to bathe her feete in the River of _Arno_, and take a little -of the sweeter Ayre: albeit her continuall residencie, is within the -Kingdome of _Laterino_. - -She seldome walketh abroad, but goeth with her attending Officers about -her, who (for more demonstration of her greatnesse) do carry the Rod -and plummet of Lead. Store of her Lords and Barons are every where to -be seene; as the _Tamagaino della porta, Don Meta di Sirropa; Manico di -Scopa; Signior Squacchera,_ and others beside, who are (as I suppose) -oftentimes your daily visitants, when of necessity they must be -remembred. All our care and courtesie shall extend so farre (if we doe -not faile in our enterprize) to leave you in the armes of so Majestick -a Ladie, quite forgetting hir of _Cacavinciglia_. - -The Physitian, who was borne and brought up at _Bologna_, and therefore -understoode not these _Florentine_ tearmes: became fully contented -to enjoy the Ladie; and, within some few dayes following, the -Painters brought him tydings, that they had prepared the way for his -entertainment into the Societie of Rovers. The day being come, when the -supposed assembly was to be made the night following: the Physitian -invited them both to dinner; when he demanding, what provision he shold -make for his entrance into their company, _Buffalmaco_ returned him -this answer, whereto he gave very heedfull attention. - -Master Doctor, you must be first of all, strongly armed with resolution -and confidence: for if you be not, you may not only receyve hindrance, -but also do us great harme beside: and now you shall heare, in what -manner, and how you are to be bold and constant. You must procure the -meanes, this instant night, when all the people are in their soundest -sleepe, to stand upon one of those high exalted Tombs or Monuments, -which are in the Churchyard of _Santa Maria Novella_, with the very -fairest gowne you have about you, because you may appeare in the more -honorable condition, before the assembly seated together, and likewise -to make good our speeches already delivered of you, concerning your -qualitie & profession: that the Countesse, perceyving you to bee a -woorthie Gentlemen, may have you first honoured with the Bathe, and -afterward Knighted at her owne cost and charge. But you must continue -still upon the Tombe (dreadlesse of nightly apparitions & visions) -untill such time as we send for you. - -And for your better information in every particulare; a Beast, blacke -and horned, but of no great stature, will come to fetch you: perhaps he -will use some gastly noises, straunge leapes, and loftie trickes, onely -to terrifie and affright you: but when he perceiveth that he cannot -daunt you, hee will gently come neere you, which when he hath done, -you may descend from off the Tombe; and, without naming or thinking -on God, or any of his Saintes, mount boldly on his backe, for he will -stand ready to receive you. Being so seated, crosse your armes over -your brest, without presuming to touch or handle the Beast, for he will -carry you thence softly, and so bring you along to the company. But if -in all this time of your travaile, you call on heaven, any Saint, or -bee possessed with the least thought of feare: I must plainely tell -you, that either hee will cast you dangerously, or throw you into some -noysom place. And therefore, if you know your selfe, not to be of a -constant courage, and sprightly bold, to undertake such an adventure as -this: never presume any further, because you may doe us a great deale -of injurie, without any gaine or benefite to your selfe, but rather -such wrong, as we would be very sorry should happen unto so deere a -Friend. - -Alas honest _Buffalmaco_, answered the Physitian, thou art not -halfe acquainted with me as yet: because I walke with gloves upon -my hands, and in a long Gowne, thou perhappes doest imagine mee a -faint-hearted fellow. If thou didst know, what I have heeretofore done -at _Bologna_ in the night time, when I and my Consorts went to visite -pretty wenches, thou wouldst wonder at my couragious attempts. As I -am a Gentleman, one night, we met with a young _Bona Roba_, a paltry -greene-sicknesse baggage, scarsely above a Cubite in height, & because -she refused to go with us willingly, I gave her a kicke on the bum, -and spurnde her more then a Crosse-bowe shoote in distance from me, -and made her walke with us whether she would, or no. Another time I -remember, when having no other company but my boy, I went thorow the -Churchyard of the Fryars Minors, after the sounding of _Ave Maria_: a -woman hadde beene buried there the very same day, and yet I was not a -jotte affraid. - -Wherefore, never be distrustfull of mee, but resolvedly builde upon my -courage. And in regard of my more honourable entertainment, I will then -weare my Scarlet Gowne and Hood, wherein I receyved my graduation; and -then do both of you observe, what a rejoycing will be among the whole -company, at the entertaining of such as a man as I am, enough to create -me Captaine immediatly. You shall perceive also how the case will go, -after I have beene there but a while, in regard that the Countesse -(having as yet never seene me) is so deepely enamored of mee: she -cannot choose but bestow the Bathe and Knight-hood on me, which shee -shall have the more honour of, in regard I am well able to maintaine -it, therefore referre all the rest to mee, and never misdoubt your -injurie or mine. - -Spoken like a Gallant, replyed _Buffalmaco_, and I feare not now, but -we shall winne credite by your company. But be carefull I pray you, -that you make not a mockery of us, and come not at all, or fayle to be -there, when the Beast shall be sent for you; I speake it the rather, -because it is cold weather, and you Gentlemen Physitians can hardly -endure it. You are carefull of mee (quoth the Doctor) and I thanke -you for it, but I applaud my faire Starres, I am none of your nice or -easie-frozen fellowes, because cold weather is very familiar to me. -I dare assure you, when I arise in the night time for that naturall -office whereto all men are subject, I weare no warmer defence, then my -thin wastcoat over my shirt, and finde it sufficient for the coldest -weather at any time. - -When _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_ had taken their leave, the Physitian, so -soone as night drew neere, used many apt excuses to his wife, stealing -forth his Scarlet Gowne and Hood unseene of any, wherewith being -clothed: at the time appointed, he got upon one of the Marble Tombes, -staying there (quaking with cold) awaiting when the Beast should come. -_Buffalmaco_, being a lusty tall man of person, had got an ugly masking -suite, such as are made use of in Tragedies and Playes, the out-side -being of black shagged haire, wherewith being cloathed, he seemed like -a strange deformed Beare, and a Divels vizard over his face, with two -gastly horrible hornes, and thus disguised, _Bruno_ following him, they -went to behold the issue of the businesse, so farre as the new Market -place, closely adjoining to _Santa Maria Novella_. - -Having espyed Master Doctor uppon the Tombe, _Buffalmaco_ in his -misshapen habite, began to bound, leape, and carriere, snuffling and -blowing in mad and raging manner: which when the Physitian saw, his -haire stood on end, he quaked and trembled, as being more fearfull then -a Woman, wishing himselfe at home againe in his house, rather then to -behold a sight so dreadfull. But because he was come forth, and had -such an earnest desire, to see the wonders related to him; he made -himselfe so coragious as possibly he could, and bare all out in formall -manner. After that _Buffalmaco_ had (an indifferent while) plaide his -horse-trickes, ramping and stamping somewhat strangely: seeming as -become of much milder temper, he went neere to the Tomb whereon the -Physitian stood, and there appeared to stay contentedly. - -Master Doctor, trembling and quaking still extreamely, was so farre -dismayed, as he knew not what was best to be done, either to mount -on the beasts backe, or not to mount at all. In the end, thinking no -harme could happen to him, if he were once mounted, with the second -feare, hee expelled the former, and descending downe softly from the -Tombs, mounted on the beast, saying out alowde: God, Saint Dominicke, -and my good Angell helpe to defend mee. Seating himselfe so well as he -could, but trembling still exceedingly; he crossed his armes over his -stomacke, according to the Lesson given him. - -Then did _Buffalmaco_ shape his course in milde manner, toward _Santa -Maria della Scala_, and groping to finde his way in the darke, went -on so farre as the Sisters of _Ripole_, commonly called the _Virgin -Sanctuary_. Not farre off from thence, were divers trenches & ditches, -wherein such men as are imployed in necessary night-services, used -to empty the Countesse _di Civillari_, and afterward imployed it for -manuring Husbandmens grounds. _Buffalmaco_, being come neere one of -them, he stayed to breath himselfe awhile, and then catching fast hold -on one of the Doctours feete, raysed him somewhat higher on his back, -for the easier discharging of his burthen, and so pitched him (with his -head forwardes) into the Lay-stall. - -Then began he to make a dreadfull kinde of noise, stamping and trampling -with his feete, passing backe againe to _Santa Maria della Scala_, -and to _Prato d'Ognissanti_, where hee met with _Bruno_, who was -constrained to forsake him, because he could not refraine from lowde -Laughter, then both together went backe once more, to see how the -Physitian would behave himselfe, being so sweetely embrued. - -Master Doctor, seeing himselfe to bee in such an abhominable stinking -place, laboured with all his utmost endeavour, to get himself released -thence: but the more he contended and strove for getting forth, he -plunged himselfe the further in, being most pitifully myred from head -to foot, sighing and sorrowing extraordinarily, because much of the -foule water entred in at his mouth. In the end, being forced to leave -his hood behinde him, scrambling both with his hands and feet, he got -landing out of his stinking Labyrinth, & having no other means, home -he returned to his own house, where knocking at the doore, he was at -length admitted entrance. The doore being scarse made fast againe after -his letting in, _Buffalmaco_ and _Bruno_ were there arrived, listning -how M. Doctor should bee welcomd home by his angry wife: who scolding -and railing at him with wonderfull impatience, gave him most hard and -bitter speeches, terming him the vilest man living. - -Where have you bin Sir? quoth she. Are you becom** a night-walker after -other Women? And could no worse garments serve your turne, but your -Doctors gown of Scarlet? Am I to suffer this behaviour? Or am not I -sufficient to content you, but you must be longing after change? I -would thou hadst bin stifled in that foule filth, where thy fouler life -did justly cast thee. Behold goodly Master Doctor of the Leystall, -who being maried to an honest woman must yet go abroad in the night -time, insatiatly lusting after whores and harlots. With these and the -like intemperate speeches, she ceased not to afflict and torment him, -till the night was almost spent, and the Doctor brought into a sweeter -savour. - -The next morning, _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_, having colourd their bodyes -with a strange kinde of painting, resembling blisters, swellings, and -bruises, as if they had bin extreamly beaten; came to the Physitians -house, finding him to be newly up, al the house yet smelling of his -foule savour (although it had bin very well perfumed) and being -admitted to him in the Garden, hee welcommed them with the mornings -salutations. But _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_ (being otherwise provided for -him) delivering stearne and angry lookes, stamping and chafing, _Bruno_ -thus replyed. - -Never speake so faire and flattering to us, for we are moved beyond all -compasse of patience. All misfortunes in the worlde fall upon you, and -an evill death may you dye, like the most false and perfidious Traitor -living on the earth. We must beate our braines, and move all our most -endeared friends, onely for your honor and advancement: while wee were -well neere starved to death in the cold like Dogs, and, by your breach -of promise, have bin this night so extreamly beaten, as if (like Asses) -we should have beene driven to _Rome_. - -But that which is most greevous of all, is danger of excluding out of -the Society, where wee tooke good order for your admittance, and for -your most honourable entertainment. If you will not credit us, behold -our bodies, and let your owne eyes be witnesses, in what cruell manner -we have bin beaten. So taking him aside under the Gallery, where they -might not be discovered by over-much light, they opened their bosomes, -shewed him their painted bodies, and sodainly closed them up againe. - -The Physitian laboured to excuse himselfe, declaring his misfortunes at -large, and into what a filthy place he was throwne. It maketh no matter -(answered _Buffalmaco_) I would you had bin throwen from off the Bridge -into _Arno_, where you might have beene recommended to the Divell, and -all his Saints. Did not I tell you so much before. In good sadnesse -(quoth the Doctor) I neyther commended my selfe to God, nor any of -his Saints. How? sayde _Buffalmaco_, I am sure you will maintaine an -untrueth, you used a kinde of recommendation: for our messenger told -us, that you talked of God, S. _Dominicke_, and your good Angell, whom -you desired to assist you, being so affrighted with feare, that you -trembled like a leafe upon a tree, not knowing indeede where you were. -Thus have you unfaithfully dealt with us, as never any man shall doe -the like againe, in seeking honour, and losing it through your own -negligence. - -Master Doctor humbly entreated pardon, and that they would not revile -him any more, labouring to appease them by the best words he could use, -as fearing least they should publish this great disgrace of him. And -whereas (before) he gave them gracious welcomes; now he redoubled them -with farre greater courtesies, feasting them daily at his own table, -and evermore delighting in their company. Thus (as you have heard) two -poore Painters of _Florence_, taught Master Doctor better Wit, then all -the Learned at _Bologna_. - - - - -_A Cicilian Courtezane, named Madame_ Biancafiore, _by her craftie wit -and policie, deceived a young Merchant, called_ Salabetto, _of all the -money he had taken for his Wares at_ Palermo. _Afterward, he making -shew of comming hither againe, with farre richer Merchandises then hee -brought before: made the meanes to borrow a great summe of Money of -her, leaving her so base a pawne, as well requited her for her former -cozenage._ - -The Tenth Novell. - -_Whereby appeareth, that such as meet with cunning Harlots, and suffer -themselves to be deceived by them: must sharpen their Wits, to make -them requitall in the selfesame kinde._ - - -Needlesse it were to question, whether the Novell related by the -Queene, in divers passages thereof, mooved the Ladies to hearty -laughter, and likewise to compassionate sighes and teares; as pittying -Madame _Helena_ in her hard misfortune, and yet applauding the Scholler -for his just revenge. But the discourse being ended, _Dioneus_, who -knew it was his Office to be the last speaker every day, after silence -was commanded, he began in this manner. - -Worthy Ladies, it is a matter very manifest, that deceits do appeare -so much the more pleasing, when (by the selfe-same meanes) the subtle -deceyver is artificially deceived. In which respect, though you all -have reported very singular deceits: yet I meane to tel you one, that -may prove as pleasing to you, as any of your owne. And so much the -rather, because the woman deceived, was a great and cunning Mistris -in beguiling others; equalling (if not excelling) any of your former -beguilers. - -It hath bene observed heretofore, and (happily) at this very day it is -as frequent, that in all Cities and Townes upon the Sea-coasts, having -Ports for the benefit and venting Merchandises; Merchants use to bring -their wealthy laden Vessels thither. And when they unlade any Ship of -great fraught, there are prepared Store-houses, which in many places -are called _Magazines_ or _Doganaes_, at the charge of the Communalty, -or Lord of the Towne or City, for the use whereof, they receive yearly -gain and benefit. Into those warehouses, they deliver (under writing, -and to the owners of them in especiall charge) all their goods and -merchandises, of what price or valew soever they are. - -Such as be the Owners of these Magazines, when the Wares are thus -stored uppe in them, doe safely locke them up there with their keyes, -having first registred downe truly all the goods, in the Register -belonging to the Custome-house, that the Merchant may have a just -account rendred him, and the rights payed to the Custome-house, -according to the Register, and as they are either in part, or in all -made sale of. - -Brokers are continually there attending, being informed in the quality -of the Merchandises stored, and likewise to what Merchants they -appertaine: by meanes of these men, and according as the goods come -to their hands, they devise to have them exchaunged, trucked, vented, -and such other kinds of dispatches, answerable to the mens minds, and -worth of the Commodities. As in many other Kingdomes and Countries, so -was this custome observed at _Palermo_ in _Sicily_, where likewise then -were, and (no doubt) now a-dayes are, store of Women, faire and comely -of person, but yet vowed enemies to honesty. - -Neverthelesse, by such as know them not, they are held and reputed to -be blamelesse Women, and by yeilding their bodyes unto generall use, -are the occasion of infinite misfortunes to men. For so soone as they -espy a Merchant-stranger there arrived, they win information from the -Booke belonging to the Magazin, what wares are therein stored, of what -valew they bee, and who is the Owner of them. Afterwards, by amorous -actions, and affable speeches, they allure yong Merchants to take -knowledge of them, to bee familiar in their company, till from some -they get most part of their wealth, from others all. Nay, divers have -gone so farre, as to make Port-sale of Ship, Goods, and Person, so -cunningly they have bene shaven by these Barbers, and yet without any -Razor. - -It came to passe, and no long time since, that a young _Florentine_ of -ours, named _Niccolo da Cignano_, but more usually called _Salabetto_, -imployed as Factor for his Maister, arrived at _Palermo_; his Ship -stored with many Woollen Cloathes, a remainder of such as had bin sold -at the Mart of _Salerno_, amounting in valew to above five hundred -Florines of Gold. When he had given in his packet to the Custome-house, -and made them up safe in his Ware-house; without making shew of -desiring any speedy dispatch, he delighted to view all parts of the -City, as mens minds are continuallie addicted to Novelties. He being -a very faire and affable yong man, easie to kindle affection in a -very modest eie: it fortuned, that a Courtezane, one of our before -remembred shavers, who termed hir selfe Madame _Biancafiore_, having -heard somewhat concerning his affairs, beganne to dart amorous glances -at him. Which the indiscreete youth perceyving, and thinking her to be -some great Lady: began also to grow halfe perswaded, that his comely -person was pleasing to her, and therefore he would carrie this good -fortune of his somewhat cautelously. - -Without imparting his mind unto any one, he would daily passe too and -fro before her doore; which she observing, and having indifferently -wounded him with her wanton piercing lookes: she began to use the first -tricke of her Trade, by pretending her enflamed affection towards him, -which made her pine and consume away in care, except he might be moved -to pitty her. Whereupon, she sent one of her _Pandoraes_ unto him, -perfectly instructed in the Art of a _Maquerella_, who (after many -cunning counterfetted sighes, and teares, which she had alwayes ready -at command) told him; that his comely person and compleate perfections, -had so wounded the very soule of her Mistresse, as she could enjoy -no rest in any place, either by day or night. In regard whereof, she -desired (above all things else) to meete with him privately in a Bathe: -with which Wordes, she straightway tooke a Ring forth of her pursse, -and in most humble manner, delivered it unto him, as a token from her -Mistresse. - -_Salabetto_ having heard this Message, was the onely joyfull man that -could be: and having receyved the Ring, looking on it advisedly; first -kissed it, and then put it upon his finger. Then in answer to the -Messenger, he sayd: That if her Mistresse _Biancafiore_ affected him, -she sustained no losse thereby, in regard he loved her as fervently, -and was ready to be commanded by her, at any time whensoever she -pleased. - -She having delivered this message to her Mistresse, was presently -returned backe againe to him, to let him understand, in which of the -Bathes she meant to meet him, on the next morrow in the evening. This -being counsell for himselfe onely to keepe, he imparted it not to any -friend whatsoever; but when the houre for their meeting was come, he -went unto the place where he was appointed, a Bathe (belike) best -agreeing with such businesse. - -Not long had he taried there, but two Women slaves came laden to him, -the one bearing a Mattresse of fine Fustian on hir head, and the other -a great Basket filled with many things. Having spred the Mattresse in -a faire Chamber on a Couch-bed, they covered it with delicate white -Linnen sheets, all about embroidred with faire Fringes of gold, then -laid they on costly quilts of rich Silkes, artificially wrought with -gold and silver knots, having pearles and precious stones interwoven -among them, and two such rich pillowes, as sildome before had the -like bin seene. _Salabetto_ putting off his garments, entred the Bath -prepared for him, where the two Slaves washed his body very neatly. -Soone after came _Biancafiore_ hirselfe, attended on by two other -women slaves, and seeing _Salabetto_ in the Bathe; making him a lowly -reverence, breathing forth infinite dissembled sighes, and teares -trickling downe her cheekes, kissing and embracing him, thus she spake. - -I know not what man else in the worlde, beside thy selfe, could have -the power to bring me hither: the fire flew from thy faire eies (O thou -incompareable lovely _Tuscane_) that melted my soule, and makes me -onely live at thy command. Then hurling off her light wearing garment -(because she came prepared for the purpose) shee stept into the bathe -to him, and, not permitting the Slaves a-while to come neere, none -but her selfe must now lave his body, with Muske compounded Sope and -Gilly-floures. Afterward, the slaves washed both him and her, bringing -two goodly sheetes, softe and white, yeelding such a delicate smell of -Roses, even as if they had bene made of Rose-leaves. In the one, they -folded _Salabetto_, and her in the other, and so conveyed them on their -shoulders unto the prepared Bed-Couch, where because they should not -sweate any longer, they tooke the sheets from about them, and laid them -gently in the bed. - -Then they opened the Basket, wherein were divers goodly Silver bottles, -some filled with Rosewaters, others with flowers of Orenges, and Waters -distilled of Gelsomine, Muske, and Amber-Greece, wherewith (againe) the -slaves bathed their bodyes in the bed, & afterward presented them with -variety of Comfites, as also very precious Wines, serving them in stead -of a little Collation. _Salabetto_ supposed himself to be in Paradise: -for this appeared to be no earthly joy, bestowing a thousand gladsome -gazes on her, who (questionlesse) was a most beautifull creature, and -the tarrying of the Slaves, seemed millions of yeares to him, that -hee might more freely embrace his _Biancafiore_. Leaving a Waxe Taper -lighted in the Chamber, the slaves departed, and then shee sweetly -embracing _Salabetto_, bestowed those further favours on him, which hee -came for, and she was not squeamish in the affoording; whereof he was -exceedingly joyfull, because he imagined, that they proceeded from the -integrity of her affection towards him. - -When she thought it convenient time to depart thence, the slaves -returned; they cloathed themselves, and had a Banquet standing ready -prepared for them; where-with they cheared their wearyed spirits, after -they had first washed in odorifferous waters. At parting: _Salabetto_ -(quoth she) whensoever thy leysures shall best serve thee, I will -repute it as my cheefest happinesse, that thou wilt accept a Supper -and Lodging in my house, which let it be this instant night, if thou -canst. He being absolutely caught, both by hir beauty and flattering -behaviour: beleeved faithfully, that he was as intirely beloved of her, -as the heart is of the body: whereuppon hee thus answered. Madame, -whatsoever pleaseth you, must needes be much more acceptable unto -mee: and therefore, not onely may command my service this night, but -likewise the whole employment of my life, to be onely yours in my very -best studies and endeavours. - -No sooner did she heare this answer, but she returned home to her -owne house, which she decked in most sumptuous manner, and also made -ready a costly Supper, expecting the arrivall of _Salabetto_: who -when the darke night was indifferently well entred, went thither, and -was welcommed with wonderfull kindnesse, wanting no costly Wines and -Delicates all the Supper while. Being afterward conducted into a goodly -Chamber, he smelt there admirable sweete senting savours, such as might -well beseeme a Princes Pallace. He beheld a most costly Bed, and very -rich furniture round about the roome: which when he had duly considered -to himself, he was constantly perswaded, that she was a Lady of infinit -wealth. And although he had heard divers flying reports concerning her -life, yet hee would not credite any thing amisse of her, for albeit -she might (perhappes) beguile some other; yet shee affected him (he -thought) in better manner, and no such misfortune could happen to him. - -Having spent all the night with her in wanton dalliances, & being risen -in the morning; to enflame his affection more and more towards her, -and to prevent any ill opinion he might conceyve of her, she bestowed -a rich and costly Girdle on him, as also a pursse most curiously -wrought, saying to him. My sweet _Salabetto_, with these testimonies of -my true affection to thee, I give thee faithfully to understand, that -as my person is onely subjected thine; so this house and all the riches -in it, remaineth absolutely at thy disposition, or whatsoever hereafter -shall happen within the compasse of my power. - -He being not a little proud of this her bountifull offer (having never -bestowed any gift on her, because by no meanes shee would admit it) -after many sweet kisses and embraces; departed thence, to the place -where the Merchants usually frequented: resorting to her (from time to -time) as occasion served, and paying not one single peny for all his -wanton pleasure, by which cunning baytes (at length) she caught him. - -It came to passe, that having made sale of all his Clothes, whereby -hee had great gaines, and the moneyes justly payed him at the times -appointed: _Biancafiore_ got intelligence thereof; yet not by him, but -from one of the Brokers. _Salabetto_ comming one night to sup with -her, she embraced and kissed him as she was wont to doe, and seemed -so wonderfully addicted in love to him, even as if shee would have -dyed with delight in his armes. Instantly, shee would needs bestow two -goodly gilt standing Cuppes on him, which _Salabetto_ by no meanes -would receive, because she had formerly bin very bountifull to him, -to above the value of an hundred Crowns, and yet she would not take -of him so much as a mite. At length, pressing still more tokens of -her love and bounty on him, which he as courteously denied, as she -kindly offered: one of her Women-slaves (as shee had before cunningly -appointed) sodainely calling her, forthwith she departed out of her -Chamber. And when she had continued a pretty while absent, she returned -againe weeping; and throwing her selfe downe upon her Pallet, breathed -forth such sighes and wofull lamentations, as no Woman could possibly -doe the like. - -_Salabetto_ amazedly wondering thereat, tooke her in his Armes, and -weeping also with her, said. Alas my deare Love, what sodain accident -hath befalne you, to urge this lamentable alteration? If you love me, -hide it not from me. After he had often entreated her in this manner, -casting her armes about his necke, and sighing as if her heart would -breake, thus she replyed. - -Ah _Salabetto_, the onely Jewell of my joy on earth, I knowe not what -to do, or say, for (even now) I received Letters from _Messina_, -wherein my Brother writes to me, that although it cost the sale of -all my goods, or whatsoever else I have beside, I must (within eight -dayes space) not faile to send him a thousand Florins of gold, or else -he must have his head smitten off, and I know not by what meanes to -procure them so soone. For, if the limitation of fifteene dayes might -serve the turne; I could borrow them in a place, where I can command a -farre greater summe, or else I would sell** some part of our Lands. But -beeing no way able to furnish him so soone, I would I had died before -I heard these dismall tydings. And in the uttering of these words, she -graced them with such cunning dissembled sorrow, as if she had meant -truly indeed. - -_Salabetto_, in whom the fury of his amorous flames, had consumed -a great part of his necessary understanding; beleeving these -counterfetted tears and complaints of hers, to proceed from an honest -meaning soule; rashly and foolishly thus replied. Deare _Biancafiore_, -I cannot furnish you with a thousand golden Florines, but am able to -lend you five hundred, if I were sure of their repayment at fifteene -dayes, wherein you are highly beholding to Fortune, that I have made -sale of all my Cloathes; which if they had lyen still on my hand, my -power could not stretch to lend you five Florines. Alas deare heart -(quoth she) would you be in such want of money, and hide it from her -that loves you so loyally? Why did you not make your need knowne to -me? Although I am not furnished of a thousand Florines; yet I have -alwaies ready three or foure hundred by me, to do any kinde office for -my friend. In thus wronging me, you have robd me of all boldnes, to -presume upon your offer made me. _Salabetto_, far faster inveigled by -these words then before, said. Let not my folly (bright _Biancafiore_) -cause you to refuse my friendly offer, in such a case of extreme -necessity: I have them ready prepared for you, and am heartily sorry, -that my power cannot furnish you with the whole summe. - -Then catching him fast in her armes, thus she answered. Now I plainly -perceive, my dearest _Salabetto_, that the love thou bearest me is true -and perfect; when, without expectation of being requested, thou art -readie to succour me in such an urgent neede, & with so faire a summe -of Florines. Sufficiently was I thine owne before, but now am much more -ingaged by so high deserving; with this particular acknowledgement -for ever, that my Brothers head was redeemed by thy goodnesse onely. -Heaven beareth me record, how unwilling I am to be beholding in this -kind, considring that you are a Merchant, & Merchants furnish al their -affairs with ready monis: but seeing necessity constraineth me, and -I make no doubt of repaiment at the time appointed: I shall the more -boldly accept your kindnes, with this absolute promise beside, that I -will rather sell all the houses I have, then breake my honest word with -you. - -Counterfeit teares still drayning downe her cheeks, and _Salabetto_ -kindly comforting her; he continued there with hir all that night, to -expresse himselfe her most liberall servant. And, without expecting -any more requesting, the next morning he brought her the five hundred -Florines, which she received with a laughing heart, but outward -dissembled weeping eies; _Salabetto_ never demanding any other -security, but onely her single promise. - -_Biancafiore_, having thus received the five hundred Florines, the -indiction of the Almanacke began to alter: and whereas (before) -_Salabetto_ could come see her whensoever he pleased, many occasions -now happened, whereby he came seven times for once, and yet his -entrance was scarsely admitted, neither was his entertainment so -affable, or his cheare so bountifull, as in his former accesses -thither. Moreover, when the time for repaiment was come, yea a moneth -or two over-past, and he demanded to have his money; hee could have -nothing but words for paiment. Now he began to consider on the -craft and cunning of this wicked Woman, as also his owne shallow -understanding, knowing he could make no proofe of his debt, but what -her selfe listed to say, having neither witnes, specialty, bill or bond -to shew: which made his folly so shamefull to him, that he durst not -complaine to any person, because he had received some advertisements -before, whereto he wold by no means listen, and now should have no -other amends, but publike infamie, scorne and disgrace, which made him -almost weary of his life, and much to bemoane his owne unhappinesse. He -received also divers Letters from his Master, to make returne of the -500. Florines over by way of banke, according as he had used to do: but -nowe could performe no such matter. - -Hereupon, because his error should not be discovered, he departed -in a small vessell thence, not making for _Pisa_, as he should have -done, but directly for _Naples_ hee shaped his course. At that instant -lodged there, _Don Pietro della Canigiano_, Treasurer of the Empresse -of _Constantinople_, a man of great wisedome and understanding, as -also very ingenious and politike, he being an especiall Favourer of -_Salabetto_ and all his friendes, which made him presume the more -boldly (being urged thereto by meere necessity, the best corrector of -wandering wits) to acquaint him with his lamentable misfortune, in -every particular as it had hapned, requesting his aid and advice, how -he might best weare out the rest of his dayes, because hee never meant -to visit _Florence_ any more. - -_Canigiano_ being much displeased at the repetition of his Follie, -sharply reproved him, saying. Thou hast done leudly, in carying thy -selfe so loosely, and spending thy Masters goods so carelesly, which -though I cannot truly tearme spent, but rather art meerely cousened -and cheated of them, yet thou seest at what a deere rate thou hast -purchased pleasure, which yet is not utterly helplesse, but may by -one meanes or other be recovered. And being a man of woonderfull -apprehension, advised him instantly what was to bee done, furnishing -him also with a summe of money, wherewith to adventure a second losse, -in hope of recovering the first againe: he caused divers Packes to -be well bound up, with the Merchants markes orderly made on them, -and bought about twenty Buttes or Barrelles, all filled (as it were) -with Oyle, and these pretended commodities being shipt, _Salabetto_ -returned with them to _Palermo_. Where having given in his packets to -the Custome-house, and entred them all under his owne name, as being -both owner and factor: all his Wares were lockt up in his _Magazine_,** -with open publication, that he would not vent any of them, before other -merchandises (which he daily expected) were there also arrived. - -_Biancafiore_ having heard thereof, and understanding withall, that he -had brought Merchandises now with him, amounting to above two thousand -Florins, staying also in expectation of other commodities, valewing -better then three thousand more, she beganne to consider with her -selfe, that she had not yet gotten money enough from him, and therefore -would cast a figure for a farre bigger booty. Which that she might the -more fairely effect, without so much as an imagination of the least -mistrust: she would repay him backe his five hundred Florines, to winne -from him a larger portion of two or three thousand at the least, and -having thus setled her determination, she sent to have him come speake -with her. _Salabetto_, having bene soundly bitten before, and therefore -the better warranted from the like ranckling teeth; willingly went to -her, not shewing any signe of former discontent: & she, seeming as if -she knew nothing of the wealth he brought with him; gracing him in as -loving manner as ever she had done, thus she spake. - -I am sure _Salabetto_, you are angry with mee, because I restored -not your Florines at my promised day. _Salabetto_ smiling, presently -answered. Beleeve me Lady (quoth he) it did a little distast me, even -as I could have bin offended with him, that should plucke out my heart -to bestow it on you, if it would yeelde you any contentment. But to -let you know unfainedly, how much I am incensed with anger against -you: such and so great is the affection I beare you, that I have solde -the better part of my whole estate, converting the same into Wealthy -Merchandises, which I have alreadie brought hither with mee, and -valewing above two thousand Florines, all which are stored up in in my -_Magazine_. There must they remaine, till another Ship come forth of -the Western parts, wherein I have a much greater adventure, amounting -unto more then three thousand Florines. And my purpose is, to make -my aboade heere in this City, which hath won the sole possession -of my heart, onely in regard of my _Biancafiore_, to whom I am so -intirely devoted, as both my selfe, and whatsoever else is mine (now or -hereafter) is dedicated onely to her service; whereto thus she replyed. - -Now trust me _Salabetto_, whatsoever redoundeth to thy good and -benefite, is the cheefest comfort of my soule, in regard I prize thy -love dearer then mine owne life, and am most joyfull of thy returne -hither againe; but much more of thy still abiding heere, because I -intend to live onely with thee, so soone as I have taken order for -some businesse of import. In the meane while, let me entreate thee -to hold me excused, because before thy departure hence, thou camest -sometimes to see me, without thy entrance admitted; and other-whiles -againe, found not such friendly entertainement, as formerly had bene -affoorded. But indeede, and above all the rest, in not re-paying thy -money according to my promise. But consider good _Salabetto_, in what -great trouble and affliction of minde I then was, both in regard of -my Brothers danger, and other important occurrences beside, which -molestations do much distract the senses, and hinder kinde courtesies, -which otherwise would bee extended liberally. - -Last of all consider also, how difficult a thing it is for a woman, so -sodainly to raise the summe of a thousand golden Florines, when one -friend promiseth, and performeth not; another protesteth, yet hath -no such meaning; a third sweareth, and yet proveth a false Lyar: so -that by being thus ungently used, a breach is made betweene the best -friends** living. From hence it proceeded, and no other defect else, -that I made not due returne of your five hundred Florins. No sooner -were you departed hence, but I had them readie, and as many more, and -could I have knowne whither to send them, they had bene with you long -time since, which because I could not (by any meanes) compasse, I kept -them still for you in continuall readinesse, as hoping of your comming -hither againe. So causing a purse to be brought, wherein the same -Florines were, which hee had delivered her; she gave it into his hand, -and prayed him to count them over, whether there were so many, or no. - -Never was _Salabettoes_ heart halfe so joyfull before; and having -counted them, found them to be his owne five hundred Florines: then, -putting them up into his pocket, he saide. Comfort of my life, Full -well I know that whatsoever you have saide, is most certaine; but -let us talke no more of falshood in friendship, or casuall accidents -happening unexpected: you have dealt with mee like a most loyall -Mistresse, and heere I protest unfainedly to you, that as well -in respect of this kinde courtesie, as also the constancy of mine -affection to you, you cannot request hereafter a far greater summe of -me, to supply any necessarie occasion of yours; but (if my power can -performe it) you shall assuredly finde it certaine: make proofe thereof -whensoever you please, after my other goods are Landed, and I have -established my estate here in your City. - -Having in this manner renewed his wonted amity with her, and with words -farre enough off from all further meaning: _Salabetto_ began againe -to frequent her company, she expressing all former familiarity, and -shewing her selfe as lavishly bountifull to him, in all respects as -before she had done, nay, many times in more magnificent manner. - -But he intending to punish her notorious trechery towards him, when -she left him as an open scorne to the World, wounded with disgrace, -and quite out of credit with all his friends: she having (on a day) -solemnly invited him, to suppe and lodge in her house all night; -he went, both with sad and melancholly lookes, seeming as overcome -with extreamity of sorrow. _Biancafiore_ mervayling at this strange -alteration in him, sweetly kissing and embracing him: would needs know -the reason of his passionate affliction, & he permitting her to urge -the question oftentimes together, without returning any direct answere; -to quit her in her kind, and with coine of her owne stampe, after a few -dissembled sighes, he began in this manner. - -Ah my dearest Love, I am utterly undone, because the Shippe containing -the rest of mine expected Merchandises, is taken by the Pyrates of -_Monago_, and put to the ransome of tenne thousand Florines of Gold, -and my part particularly, is to pay one thousand. At this instant I am -utterly destitute of money, because the five hundred Florines which I -received of you, I sent hence the next daie day following to _Naples_, -to buy more cloathes, which likewise are to be sent hither. And if I -should now make sale of the Merchandizes in my Magazine (the time of -generall utterance being not yet come) I shall not make a pennyworth -for a penny. And my misfortune is the greater, because I am not so well -knowne heere in your City, as to find some succour in such an important -distresse; wherefore I know not what to do or say. Moreover, if the -money be not speedily sent, our goods will be carried into _Monago_, -and then they are past all redemption utterly. - -_Biancafiore_ appearing greatly discontented, as one verily perswaded, -that this pretended losse was rather hers, then his, because she aymed -at the mainest part of all his wealth: began to consider with her -selfe, which was the likeliest course to be taken, for saving the -goods from carriage to _Monago_: whereupon thus she replied. Heaven -knoweth (my dearest _Salabetto_) how thy love maketh me sorrowfull for -this misfortune, and it greeveth me to see thee any way distressed: for -if I had mony lying by mee (as many times I have) thou shouldst finde -succour from my selfe onely, but indeede I am not able to helpe thee. -True it is, there is a friend of mine, who did lend me five hundred -Florines in my need, to make uppe the other summe which I borrowed of -thee: but he demandeth extreme interest, because he will not abate any -thing of thirty in the hundred, and if you should bee forced to use -him, you must give him some good security. Now for my part, the most of -my goods here I will pawne for thee: but what pledge can you deliver in -to make up the rest? Wel did _Salabetto_ conceive, the occasion why she -urged this motion, and was so diligent in doing him such a pleasure: -for it appeared evidently to him, that herselfe was to lend the mony, -whereof he was not a little joyfull, seeming very thankfull to hir. Then he -told her, that being driven to such extremity, how unreasonable soever -the usury was, yet he would gladly pay for it. And for her Friends -further security, hee would pawne him all the goods in his _Magazine_, -entering them downe in the name of the party, who lent the money. -Onely he desired to keepe the Keyes of the Ware-house, as well to shew -his Merchandises, when any Merchant should bee so desirous: as also -to preserve them from ill using, transporting or changing, before his -redemption of them. - -She found no fault with his honest offer, but sayde, hee shewed -himselfe a well-meaning man, and the next morning shee sent for a -Broker, in whom she reposed especiall trust; and after they had -privately consulted together, shee delivered him a thousand Golden -Florines, which were caried by him presently to _Salabetto_, and -the Bond made in the Brokers name, of all the goods remaining in -_Salabettoes_ ware-house, with composition and absolute agreement, -for the prefixed time of the monies repaiment. No sooner was this -tricke fully accomplished, but _Salabetto_ seeming as if he went to -redeeme his taken goods: set saile for _Naples_ towards _Pietro della -Canigiano_, with fifteene hundred Florines of Gold: from whence also -he sent contentment to his Master at _Florence_ (who imployd him as -his Factor at _Palermo_) beside his owne packes of Cloathes. He made -repayment likewise to _Canigiano_, for the monies which furnished -him in this last voyage, and any other to whom hee was indebted. So -there he stayed awhile with _Canigiano_, whose counsell thus holpe -him to out-reach the _Sicillian_ Courtezane: and meaning to deale in -Merchandise no more, afterward he returned to _Florence_ and there -lived in good reputation. - -Now as concerning _Biancafiore_, when she saw that _Salabetto_ returned -not againe to _Palermo_, she beganne to grow somewhat abashed, as halfe -suspecting that which followed. After she had tarried for him above -two moneths space, and perceived hee came not, nor any tydings heard -of him: shee caused the Broker to breake open the Magazine, casting -forth the Buttes or Barrels, which shee beleeved to bee full of good -Oyles. But they were all filled with Sea-Water, each of them having -a small quantity of Oyle floating on the toppe, onely to serve when -a tryall should bee made. And then unbinding the Packes, made up in -formall and Merchantable manner: there was nothing else in them, but -Logges and stumpes of Trees; wrapt handsomely in hurdles of Hempe and -Tow; onely two had Cloathes in them. So that (to bee briefe) the whole -did not value two hundred Crownes: which when she saw, and observed -how cunningly she was deceived: a long while after shee sorrowed, -for repaying backe the five hundred Florines, and folly in lending -a thousand more, using it as a Proverbe alwaies after to hir selfe: -_That whosoever dealt with a Tuscane, had neede to have found sight -and judgement._ So remaining contented (whither she would or no) with -her losse: she plainly perceyved, that although she lived by cheating -others, yet now at the length she had mette with her match. - - * * * * * - -So soone as _Dioneus_ had ended his Novell, Madame _Lauretta_ also -knew, that the conclusion of her Regiment was come; whereupon, when -the counsell of _Canigiano_ had past with generall commendation, and -the wit of _Salabetto_ no lesse applauded, for fitting it with such -an effectuall prosecution; shee tooke the Crowne of Laurell from her -owne head, and set it upon Madame _Æmilliaes_, speaking graciously in -this manner. Madam, I am not able to say, how pleasant a Queene we -shall have of you, but sure I am, that we shall enjoy a faire one: let -matters therefore be so honourably carried; that your government may be -answerable to your beautifull perfections; which words were no sooner -delivered, but she sate downe in her mounted seate. - -Madame _Æmillia_ being somewhat bashfull, not so much of hir being -created Queene, as to heare her selfe thus publikely praysed, with that -which Women do most of all desire: her face then appearing, like the -opening of the Damaske Rose, in the goodlyest morning. But after she -had a while dejected her lookes, and the Vermillion blush was vanished -away: having taken order with the Master of the houshold, for all -needefull occasions befitting the assembly, thus she began. - -Gracious Ladies, wee behold it daily, that those Oxen which have -laboured in the yoake most part of the day, for their more convenient -feeding, are let forth at liberty, and permitted to wander abroad in -the Woods. We see moreover, that Gardens and Orchards, being planted -with variety of the fairest fruit Trees, are equalled in beauty by -Woods and Forrests, in the plentifull enjoying of as goodly spreading -branches. In consideration whereof, remembring how many dayes wee have -already spent (under the severitie of Lawes imposed) shaping all our -discourses to a forme of observation: I am of opinion, that it will not -onely well become us, but also prove beneficiall for us, to live no -longer under such restraint, and like enthralled people, desirous of -liberty, wee should no more be subjected to the yoke, but recover our -former strength in walking freely. - -Wherefore, concerning our pastime purposed for to morrow, I am -not minded to use any restriction, or tye you unto any particular -ordination: but rather do liberally graunt, that every one shall devise -and speake of arguments agreeing with your owne dispositions. - -Besides, I am verily perswaded, that variety of matter uttered so -freely, will be much more delightfull, then restraint to one kinde of -purpose onely. Which being thus granted by me, whosoever shall succeede -me in the government may (as being of more power and preheminence) -restraine all backe againe to the accustomed lawes. And having thus -spoken, she dispensed with their any longer attendance, untill it -should be Supper time. - -Every one commended the Queenes appointment, allowing it to rellish of -good wit and judgement; and being all risen, fell to such exercises -as they pleased. The Ladies made Nosegaies and Chaplets of Flowers, -the men played on their Instruments, singing divers sweete Ditties to -them, and thus were busied untill Supper time. Which beeing come, and -they supping about the beautifull Fountains: after Supper, they fell -to singing and dauncing. In the end, the Queene, to imitate the order -of her predecessors, commanded _Pamphilus_, that notwithstanding all -the excellent songs formerly sung: he should now sing one, whereunto -dutifully obeying, thus he began. - - THE SONG. - - The Chorus sung by all. - - _Love, I found such felicitie, - And joy, in thy captivitie: - As I before did never prove, - And thought me happy, being in Love._ - - _Comfort abounding in my hart, - Joy and Delight - In soule and spright - I did possesse in every part; - O Soveraigne Love by thee. - Thy Sacred fires, - Fed my desires, - And still aspires, - Thy happy thrall to bee. - Love, I found such felicity, &c._ - - _My Song wants power to relate, - The sweets of minde - Which I did finde - In that most blissefull state, - O Soveraigne Love by thee. - No sad despaire, - Or killing care - Could me prepare; - Still thou didst comfort me. - Love, I found such felicity, &c._ - - _I hate all such as do complaine, - Blaspheming thee - With Cruelty, - And sleights of coy disdaine. - O Soveraigne Love, to mee - Thou hast bene kinde: - If others finde. - Thee worse inclinde, - Yet I will honour thee._ - - _LOVE, I found such felicitie, - And joy in thy Captivitie: - As I before did never prove, - But thought me happie, being in Love._ - -Thus the Song of _Pamphilus_ ended, whereto all the rest (as a Chorus) -answered with their Voyces, yet every one particularly (according -as they felt their Love-sicke passions) made a curious construction -thereof, perhaps more then they needed, yet not Divining what -_Pamphilus_ intended. And although they were transported with variety -of imaginations; yet none of them could arrive** at his true meaning -indeed. Wherefore the Queene, perceiving the Song to be fully ended, -and the Ladies, as also the young Gentlemen, willing to go take their -rest: she commaunded them severally to their Chambers. - - -_The End of the Eight Day._ - - - - -THE NINTH DAY. - - -_Whereon, under the Government of Madame_ ÆMILLIA, _the Argument of -each severall Discourse, is not limitted to any one peculiar subject: -but every one remaineth at liberty, to speak of whatsoever themselves -best pleaseth._ - - -The Induction. - - -Faire _Aurora_, from whose bright and chearefull lookes, the duskie -darke night flyeth as an utter enemy, had already reached so high -as the eight Heaven, converting it all into an Azure colour, and -the pretty Flowrets beganne to spred open their Leaves: when Madame -_Æmillia_, beeing risen, caused all her female attendants, and -the yong Gentlemen likewise, to be summoned for their personall -appearance. Who being all come, the Queen leading the way, and they -following her Majesticke pace, walked into a little Wood, not farre off -distant from the Palace. - -No sooner were they there arrived, but they beheld store of Wilde -Beasts, as Hindes, Hares, Goats, and such like; so safely secured from -the pursuite of Huntsmen (by reason of the violent Pestilence then -reigning) that they stood gazing boldly at them, as dreadlesse of any -danger, or as if they were become tame and Domesticke. - -Approaching neerer them, first to one, then unto another, as if they -purposed to play gently with them, they then beganne to skippe and -runne, making them such pastime with their pretty tripping, that they -conceyved great delight in beholding of them. - -But when they beheld the Sunne to exalt itselfe, it was thought -convenient to return back again, shrouding themselves under the Trees -spreading armes, their hands full of sweete Flowers and Odorifferous -Hearbes, which they had gathered in their Walking. So that such as -chanced to meete them, could say nothing else: but that death knew not -by what meanes to conquer them, or els they had set down an absolute -determination, to kill him with their Joviall disposition. - -In this manner, singing, dancing, or prettily pratling, at length they -arrived at the Palace, where they found all things readily prepared, -and their Servants duly attending for them. After they hadde reposed -themselves awhile, they would not (as yet) sit downe at the Table, -untill they had sung halfe a dozen of Canzonets, some more pleasant -then another, both the women and men together. - -Then they fell to washing hands, and the Maister of the Houshold caused -them to sit downe, according as the Queene had appointed, and Dinner -was most sumptuously served in before them. Afterward, when the Tables -were with-drawne, they all tooke handes to dance a Roundelay; which -being done, they plaied on their Instruments a while; and then, such as -so pleased, tooke their rest. But when the accustomed houre was come, -they all repaired to the place of discoursing, where the Queen, looking -on Madam _Philomena_, gave her the honor of beginning the first Novell -for that day: whereto shee dutifully condiscending, began as followeth. - - - - -_Madam_ Francesca, _a Widdow of_ Pistoya, _being affected by two_ -Florentine _Gentlemen, the one named_ Rinuccio Palermini, _and the -other_ Alessandro Chiarmontesi, _and she bearing no good will to eyther -of them; ingeniously freed her selfe from both their importunate -suites. One of them she caused to lye as dead in a grave, and the other -to fetch him from thence: so neither of them accomplishing what they -were enjoyned, fayled of obtaining his hoped expectation._ - -The First Novell. - -_Approving, that chaste and honest Women, ought rather to deny -importunate suiters, by subtile and ingenious meanes, then fall into -the danger of scandall and slander._ - - -Madame, it can no way discontent mee (seeing it is your most gracious -pleasure) that I should have the honour, to breake the first staffe of -freedome in this faire company (according to the injunction of your -Majesty) for liberty of our own best liking arguments: wherein I dismay -not (if I can speake well enough) but to please you all as well, as any -other that is to follow me. Nor am I so oblivious (worthy Ladies) but -full well I remember, that many times hath bene related in our passed -demonstrations, how mighty and variable the powers of love are: and yet -I cannot be perswaded, that they have all bene so sufficiently spoken -of, but something may bee further added, and the bottome of them never -dived into, although we should sit arguing a whole yeare together. And -because it hath beene alreadie approved, that Lovers have bene led -into divers accidents, not onely inevitable dangers of death, but also -have entred into the verie houses of the dead, thence to convey their -amorous friends: I purpose to acquaint you with a Novell, beside them -which have bene discoursed; whereby you may not onely comprehend the -power of Love, but also the wisedome used by an honest Gentlewoman, to -rid her selfe of two importunate suiters, who loved her against her -owne liking, yet neither of them knowing the others affection. - -In the City of _Pistoya_, there dwelt sometime a beautifull -Gentlewoman, being a Widdow, whom two of our _Florentines_ (the one -named _Rinuccio Palermini_, and the other _Alessandro Chiarmontesi_), -having withdrawne themselves to _Pistoya_ desperately affected, the -one ignorant of the others intention, but each carrying his case -closely, as hoping to be possessed of her. This Gentlewoman, named -Madame _Francesca de Lazzari_, being often solicited by their messages, -and troublesomely pestered with their importunities: at last (lesse -advisedly then she intended) shee granted admittance to heare either of -them speake. Which she repenting, and coveting to be rid of them both, -a matter not easie to be done: she wittily devised the onely meanes, -namely, to move such a motion to them, as neither would willingly -undertake, yet within the compasse of possibility; but they failing in -the performance, shee might have the more honest occasion, to bee free -from all further molestation by them, and her politike intention was -thus projected. - -On the same day, when she devised this peece of service, a man was -buried in _Pistoya_, and in the Church-yard belonging unto the gray -Friars, who being descended of good and worthie parentage: yet himselfe -was very infamous, and reputed to be the vilest man living, not onely -there in _Pistoya_, but throughout the whole World beside. Moreover, -while he lived, he had such a strange misshapen body, and his face so -ugly deformed, that such as knew him not, would stand gastly affrighted -at the first sight of him. In regarde whereof, shee considered with her -selfe, that the foule deformitie of this loathed fellow, would greatly -avayle in her determination, and consulting with her Chamber-maid, thus -she spake. - -Thou knowest (my most true and faithfull servant) what trouble and -affliction of minde I suffer dayly, by the messages and Letters of -the two _Florentines, Rinuccio_ and _Alessandro,_ how hatefull their -importunity is to me, as being utterly unwilling to hear them speake, -or yeeld to any thing which they desire. Wherefore, to free my selfe -from them both together, I have devised (in regard of their great -and liberall offers) to make triall of them in such a matter, as I am -assured they will never performe. - -It is not unknowne to thee, that in the Church-yard of the Gray -Friars, and this instant morning, _Scannadio_ (for so was the ugly -fellow named) was buried; of whom, when he was living, as also now -being dead, both men, women, and children, doe yet stand in feare, so -gastly and dreadfull alwayes was his personall appearance to them. -Wherefore, first of all go thou to _Alessandro_, and say to him thus. -My Mistris _Francesca_ hath sent me to you, to tell you, that now the -time is come, wherein you may deserve to enjoy her love, and gaine the -possession of her person, if you will accomplish such a motion as she -maketh to you. For some especiall occasion, wherewith hereafter you -shall bee better acquainted, a neere Kinsman of hers, must needs have -the body of _Scannadio_ (who was buried this morning) brought to her -house. And she, being as much affraid of him now he is dead, as when he -was living, by no meanes would have his body brought thither. - -In which respect, as a Token of your unfeigned love to her, and the -latest service you shall ever do for her: shee earnestly entreateth -you, that this night, in the very deadest time thereof, you would go to -the grave, where _Scannadio_ lyeth yet uncovered with earth untill to -morrow, and attyring your selfe in his garments, even as if you were -the man himselfe, so to remaine there untill her kinsman doe come. - -Then, without speaking any one word, let him take you foorth of the -grave, & bring you thence (insted of _Scannadio_) to hir house: where -she will give you gentle welcome, and disappoint her Kinsman in his -hope, by making you Lord of her, and all that is hers, as afterward -shall plainly appeare. If he say he will do it, it is as much as I -desire: but if hee trifle and make deniall, then boldly tell him, that -he must refraine all places wheresoever I am, and forbeare to send me -any more Letters, or messages. - -Having done so, then repaire to _Rinuccio Palermini_, and say. My -Mistresse _Francesca_ is ready to make acceptance of your love; -provided, that you will do one thing for her sake. Namely, this ensuing -night, in the midst & stillest season thereof, to go to the grave where -_Scannadio_ was this morning buried, & (without making any noise) or -speaking one word, whatsoever you shall heare or see: to take him forth -of the grave, and bring him home to her house, where you shall know -the reason of this strange businesse, and enjoy her freely as your -owne for ever. But if he refuse to do it, then I commaund him, never -hereafter to see me, or move further suite unto mee, by any meanes -whatsoever. - -The Chamber-maide went to them both, and delivered the severall -messages from her Mistresse, according as she had given her in charge; -whereunto each of them answered, that they woulde (for her sake) not -onely descend into a Grave, but also into hell, if it were her pleasure. - -She returning with this answer unto her Mistresse, _Francesca_ remained -in expectation, what the issue of these fond attemptes in them, would -sort unto. When night was come, and the middle houre thereof already -past, _Alessandro Chiarmontesi_, having put off all other garments -to his doublet and hose, departed secretly from his lodging, walking -towards the Church-yard, where _Scannadio_ lay in his grave: but by the -way as he went, hee became surprized with divers dreadfull conceites -and imaginations, and questioned with himselfe thus. - -What a beast am I? What a businesse have I undertaken? And whither am I -going? What do I know, but that the Kinsman unto this Woman, perhappes -understanding mine affection to her, and crediting some such matter, -as is nothing so; hath laide this politicke traine for me, that he -may murther me in the grave? Which (if it should so happen) my life -is lost, and yet the occasion never knowne whereby it was done. Or -what know I, whether some secret enemy of mine (affecting her in like -manner, as I do) have devised this stratagem (out of malice) against -mee, to draw my life in danger, and further his owne good Fortune? -Then, contrary motions, overswaying these suspitions, he questioned his -thoughts in another nature. - -Let me (quoth he) admit the case, that none of these surmises are -intended, but her Kinsman (by and in this manner devised) must bring -me into her house: I am not therefore perswaded, that he or they do -covet, to have the body of _Scannadio_, either to carry it thither, -or present it to her, but rather do aime at some other end. May not I -conjecture, that my close murthering is purposed, and this way acted, -as on him that (in his life time) had offended them? The Maid hath -straitly charged me, that whatsoever is said or done unto me, I am not -to speake a word. What if they pul out mine eies, teare out my teeth, -cut off my hands, or do me any other mischiefe: Where am I then? Shall -all these extremities barre me of speaking? On the other side, if I -speake, then I shall be knowne, and so much the sooner (perhaps) be -abused. But admit that I sustaine no injurie at all, as being guilty of -no transgression: yet (perchance) I shall not be carried to her house, -but to some other baser place, and afterward she shall reprove me, -that I did not accomplish what shee commanded, and so all my labour is -utterly lost. - -Perplexed with these various contradicting opinions, he was willing -divers times to turne home backe againe: yet such was the violence -of his love, and the power thereof prevailing against all sinister -arguments; as he went to the grave, and removing the boordes covering -it, whereinto he entred; and having despoiled _Scannadio_ of his -garments, cloathed himselfe with them, & so laid him down, having -first covered the grave againe. Not long had hee tarryed there, but he -began to bethinke him, what manner of man _Scannadio_ was, and what -strange reports had bene noised of him, not onely for ransicking dead -mens graves in the night season, but many other abhominable Villanies -committed by him, which so fearfully assaulted him; that his haire -stoode on end, every member of him quaked, and every minute he imagined -_Scannadio_ rising, with intent to strangle him in the grave. But his -fervent affection overcoming all these idle feares, and lying stone -still, as if he had beene the dead man indeede; he remained to see the -end of his hope. - -On the contrary side, after midnight was past, _Rinuccio Palermini_ -departed from his lodging, to do what hee was enjoyned by his hearts -Mistresse, and as hee went along, divers considerations also ran in -his minde, concerning occasions possible to happen. As, falling into -the hands of Justice, with the body of _Scannadio_ upon his backe, and -being condemned for sacriledge, in robbing graves of the dead; either -to be burned, or otherwise so punished, as might make him hatefull to -his best friends, and meerely a shame to himselfe. - -Many other the like conceits molested him, sufficient to alter his -former determination: but affection was much more prevayling in him, -and made him use this consultation. How now _Rinuccio_? Wilt thou dare -to deny the first request, being mooved to thee by a Gentlewoman, whom -thou dearly lovest, and is the onely meanes, whereby to gaine assurance -of her gracious favour? Undoubtedly, were I sure to die in the attempt, -yet I will accomplish my promise. And so he went on with courage to the -grave. - -_Alessandro_ hearing his arrivall, and also the removall of the bords, -although he was exceedingly affraid; yet he lay quietly still, and -stirred not, and _Rinuccio_ beeing in the grave, tooke _Alessandro_ by -the feete, haling him forth, and (mounting him uppon his backe) went on -thus loden, towards the house of Madam _Francesca_. As he passed along -the streets, unseene or unmet by any, _Alessandro_ suffered many shrewd -rushings and punches, by turnings at the streets corners, and jolting -against bulkes, poasts, and stalles, which _Rinuccio_ could not avoyd, -in regard the night was so wonderfully darke, as hee could not see -which way he went. - -Being come somewhat neere to the Gentlewomans house, and she standing -readie in the Window with her Maide, to see when _Rinuccio_ should -arrive there with _Alessandro_, provided also of an apt excuse, to send -them thence like a couple of Coxcombes; it fortuned, that the Watchmen, -attending there in the same streete, for the apprehension of a banished -man, stolne into the City contrarie to order; hearing the trampling -of _Rinuccioes_ feete, directed their course as they heard the noise, -having their Lanthorne and light closely covered, to see who it should -be, and what he intended, and beating their weapons against the ground, -demanded, Who goes there? _Rinuccio_ knowing their voyces, and that now -was no time for any long deliberation: let fall _Alessandro_, and ran -away as fast as his legs could carry him. - -_Alessandro_ being risen againe (although he was cloathed in -_Scannadioes_ Garments, which were long and too bigge for him) fledde -away also as _Rinuccio_ did. All which Madame _Francesca_ easily -discerned by helpe of the Watchmens Lanthorne, and how _Rinuccio_ -carried _Alessandro_ on his backe, beeing attired in the Garments of -_Scannadio_: whereat she mervailed not a little, as also the great -boldnesse of them both. But in the midst of her mervailing, she -laughed very heartily, when she saw the one let the other fall, and -both to runne away so manfully. Which accident pleasing her beyond -all comparison, and applauding her good Fortune, to bee so happily -delivered from their daily molestation: she betooke herselfe to hir -Chamber with the Maide, avouching solemnly to her, that (questionlesse) -they both affected her dearely, having undertaken such a straunge -imposition, and verie neere brought it to a finall conclusion. - -_Rinuccio_, being sadly discontented, and curssing his hard fortune, -would not yet returne home to his Lodging: but, when the watch was -gone forth of that streete, came backe to the place where he let fall -_Alessandro_, purposing to accomplish the rest of his enterprize. -But not finding the body, and remaining fully perswaded, that the -Watchmen were possessed thereof; hee went away, greeving extreamly. And -_Alessandro_, not knowing now what should become of him: confounded -with the like griefe and sorrow, that all his hope was thus utterly -overthrowne, retired thence unto his owne house, not knowing who was -the Porter which carried him. - -The next morning, the grave of _Scannadio_ being found open, & the -body not in it, because _Alessandro_ had thrown it into a deep ditch -neere adjoyning: all the people of _Pistoya_ were possessed with -sundry opinions, some of the more foolish sort verily beleeving, that -the divell had caried away the dead body. Neverthelesse, each of the -Lovers, severally made knowne to Madam _Francesca_, what he had done, -and how disappointed, either excusing himselfe, that though her command -had not bin fully accomplished, yet to continue her favour towards -him. But she, like a wise and discreet Gentlewoman, seeming not to -credit either the one or other: discharged her selfe honestly of them -both, with a cutting answere, That shee would never (afterward) expect -any other service from them, because they had fayled in their first -injunction. - - - - -_Madame_ Usimbalda, _Lady Abbesse of a Monastery of Nuns in_ Lombardie, -_arising hastily in the night time without a Candle, to take one of her -Daughter Nunnes in bed with a yong Gentleman, whereof she was enviously -accused, by certaine of her other Sisters: The Abbesse her selfe (being -at the same time in bed with a Priest) imagining to have put on her -head her plaited vayle, put on the Priests breeches. Which when the -poore Nunne perceyved; by causing the Abbesse to see her owne error, -she got her selfe to be absolved, and had the freer liberty afterward, -to be more familiar with her frend, then formerly she had bin._ - -The Second Novell. - -_Whereby is declared, that whosoever is desirous to reprehend sinne in -other men, should first examine himselfe, that he be not guiltie of the -same crime._ - - -By this time, Madame _Philomena_ sate silent, and the wit of -_Francesca_, in freeing her selfe from them whom she could not fancie, -was generally commended: as also on the contrary, the bold presumption -of the two amorous suiters, was reputed not to be love, but meerely -folly. And then the Queene, with a gracious admonition, gave way for -Madam Eliza to follow next; who presently thus began. - -Worthy Ladies, Madame _Francesca_ delivered her selfe discreetly from -trouble, as already hath bin related: but a yong Nun, by the helpe and -favour of Fortune, did also free her selfe (in speaking advisedly) from -an inconvenience sodainly falling on her. And as you well know, there -wants none of them, who (like bold Bayards) will be very forward in -checking other mens misdemeanours, when themselves, as my Novell will -approve, deserve more justly to bee corrected. As hapned to a Lady -Abbesse, under whose governement the same young Nunne was, of whom I am -now to speake. - -You are then to understand (Gracious Auditors) that in _Lombardie_ -there was a goodly Monastery, very famous for Holinesse and Religion, -where, among other sanctified Sisters, there was a yong Gentlewoman, -endued with very singular beautie, being named _Isabella_, who on -a day, when a Kinsman of hers came to see her at the grate, became -enamored of a young Gentleman, being then in his company. - -He likewise, beholding her to be so admirably beautifull, & conceyving -by the pretty glances of her eye, that they appeared to bee silent -intelligencers of the hearts meaning, grew also as affectionately -inclined towards her, and this mutuall love continued thus concealed -a long while, but not without great affliction unto them both. In -the end, either of them being circumspect and provident enough, the -Gentleman contrived a meanes, whereby he might secretly visite his -Nunne, wherewith she seemed no way discontented: and this visitation -was not for once or twice, but verie often, and closely concealed to -themselves. - -At length it came to passe, that either through their owne indiscreete -carriage, or jelous suspition in some others: it was espied by one of -the Sisters, both the Gentlemans comming and departing, yet unknowne -to him or _Isabella_. The saide Sister, disclosing the same to two or -three more: they agreed together, to reveale it to the Lady Abbesse, -who was named Madame _Usimbalda_, a holy and devout Lady, in common -opinion of all the Nunnes, and whosoever else knew her. - -They further concluded (because _Isabella_ should not deny theyr -accusation) to contrive the businesse so cunningly: that the Ladie -Abbesse should come her selfe in person, and take the yong Gentleman in -bed with the Nun. And uppon this determination, they agreed to watch -nightly by turnes, because by no meanes they wold be prevented: so to -surprise poore _Isabella_, who beeing ignorant of their treachery, -suspected nothing. Presuming thus still on this secret felicitie, and -fearing no disaster to befall her: it chaunced (on a night) that the -yong Gentleman being entred into the Nuns Dorter, the Scowts had -descried him, & intended to be revenged on her. - -After some part of the night was overpast, they divided themselves into -two bands, one to guard _Isabellaes_ Dorter doore, the other to carry -newes to the Abbesse, and knocking at her Closet doore, saide. Rise -quickely Madame, and use all the hast you may, for we have seene a man -enter our Sister _Isabellaes_ Dorter, and you may take her in bed with -him. The Lady Abbesse, who (the very same night) had the company of a -lusty Priest in bed with her selfe, as oftentimes before she had, and -he being alwayes brought thither in a Chest: hearing these tidings, -and fearing also, lest the Nunnes hastie knocking at her doore, might -cause it to fly open, and so (by their entrance) have her owne shame -discovered: arose very hastily, and thinking she had put on her plaited -vaile, which alwayes she walked with in the night season, and used to -tearme her Psalter; she put the Priests breeches upon her head, and -so went away in all hast with them, supposing them verily to be her -Psalter: but making fast the Closet doore with her keye, because the -Priest should not be discovered. - -Away shee went in all haste with the Sisters, who were so forward in -the detection of poore _Isabella_, as they never regarded what manner -of vaile the Lady Abbesse wore on her head. And being come to the -Dorter doore, quickly they lifted it off from the hookes, and being -entred, found the two Lovers sweetly imbracing: but yet so amazed at -this sudden surprisall, as they durst not stirre, nor speake one word. -The young Nunne _Isabella_, was raised forthwith by the other Sisters, -and according as the Abbesse had commaunded, was brought by them into the -Chapter-house: the young Gentleman remaining still in the Chamber, where -he put on his garments, awaiting to see the issue of this businesse, -and verily intending to act severe revenge on his betrayers, if any -harme were done to _Isabella_, and afterward to take her thence away -with him, as meaning to make her amends by marriage. - -The Abbesse being seated in the Chapter house, and all the other Nunnes -then called before her, who minded nothing else but the poore offending -Sister: she began to give her very harsh and vile speeches, as never -any transgressor suffered the like, and as to her who had (if it should -be openly knowne abroad) contaminated by her lewde life and actions, -the sanctity and good renowne of the whole Monastery, and threatned her -with very severe chastisement. Poore _Isabella_, confounded with feare -and shame, as being no way able to excuse her fault, knew not what -answer to make, but standing silent, made her case compassionable to -all the rest, even those hard-hearted Sisters which betrayed her. - -And the Abbesse still continuing her harsh speeches, it fortuned, -that _Isabella_, raising her head, which before she dejected into hir -bosome, espied the breeches on her head, with the stockings hanging on -either side of her; the sight whereof did so much encourage her, that -boldly she said. Madam, let a poore offender advise you for to mend -your veile, and afterward say to me what you will. - -The Abbesse being very angry; and not understanding what she meant, -frowningly answered. Why how now saucy companion? What vaile are you -prating of? Are you so malapert, to bee chatting already? Is the deed -you have done, to be answered in such immodest manner? _Isabella_ not -a jot danted by her sterne behaviour, once againe said. Good Madam let -me perswade you to sette your vaile right, and then chide me as long -as you will. At these words, all the rest of the Nunnes exalted their -lookes, to behold what vaile the Abbesse wore on her head, wherewith -_Isabella_ should finde such fault, and she her selfe lift up her -hand to feele it: and then they all perceyved plainly, the reason of -_Isabellas_ speeches, and the Abbesse saw her owne error. - -Hereupon, when the rest observed, that she had no help to cloud this -palpable shame withall, the tide began to turne, and hir tongue found -another manner of Language, then her former fury to poore _Isabella_, -growing to this conclusion, that it is impossible to resist against -the temptations of the flesh. And therefore she saide: Let all of you -take occasion, according as it offereth it selfe, as both we and our -predecessors have done: to be provident for your selves, take time -while you may, having this sentence alwaies in remembrance, _Si non -caste, tamen caute_. - -So, having granted the yong Nunne _Isabella_ free absolution: the Lady -Abbesse returned backe againe to bed to the Priest, and _Isabella_ to -the Gentleman. As for the other Sisters, who (as yet) were without the -benefit of friends; they intended to provide themselves so soone as -they could, being enduced thereto by so good example. - - - - -_Master_ Simon _the Physitian, by the perswasions of_ Bruno, -Buffalmaco, _and a third Companion, named_ Nello, _made_ Calandrino -_to beleeve, that he was conceived great with childe. And having -Physicke ministred to him for the disease: they got both good fatte -Capons and money of him, and so cured him, without any other manner of -deliverance._ - -The Third Novell. - -_Discovering the simplicity of some silly witted men, and how easie a -matter it is to abuse and beguile them._ - - -After that Madame _Eliza_ had concluded her Novell, and every one of -the company given thankes to Fortune, for delivering poore _Isabella_ -the faire young Nunne, from the bitter reprehensions of the as faulty -Abbesse, as also the malice of her envious Sisters: the Queene gave -command unto _Philostratus_, that he should be the next in order, and -hee (without expecting anie other warning) began in this manner. - -Faire Ladies, the paltry Judge of the Marquisate, whereof yesterday I -made relation to you; hindred mee then of another Novell, concerning -silly _Calandrino_, wherewith I purpose now to acquaint you. And -because whatsoever hath already bin spoken of him, tended to no other -end but matter of meriment, hee and his companions duly considered: the -Novel which I shall now report, keepeth within the selfesame compasse, -and aimeth also at your contentment, according to the scope of imposed -variety. - -You have already heard what manner of man _Calandrino_ was, and -likewise the rest of his pleasant Companions, who likewise are now -againe to be remembred, because they are actors in our present -discourse. It came so to passe, that an Aunt of _Calandrinoes_ dying, -left him a legacy of two hundred Florines, wherewith he purposed to -purchase some small Farme-house in the countrey, or else to enlarge -the other, whereof he was possessed already. And, as if hee were to -disburse some ten thousand Florines, there was not a Broker in all -_Florence_, but understood what he intended to doe; and all the worst -was, that the strings of his purse could stretch no higher. _Bruno_, -and _Buffalmaco_ (his auncient Confederates) who heard of this good -Fortune befalne him, advised him in such manner as they were wont to -do; allowing it much better for him, to make merrie with the money in -good cheare among them, then to lay it out in paltry Land, whereto -he would not by any meanes listen, but ridde himselfe of them with a -dinners cost, as loath to bee at anie further charge with them. - -These merry Laddes meant not to leave him so; but sitting one day in -serious consultation, and a third man in their companie, named _Nello_; -they all three layde their braines in steep, by what means to wash -their mouths well, and _Calandrino_ to bee at the cost thereof. - -And having resolved what was to bee done, they met togither the next -morning, even as _Calandrino_ was comming foorth of his house, and -sundering themselves, to avoyd all suspition, yet beeing not farre -distant each from other; _Nello_ first met him, and saide unto him, -Good Morrow _Calandrino_: which he requited backe agayne with the same -salutation. But then _Nello_ standing still, looked him stedfastly in -the face: whereat _Calandrino_ mervailing, sayd: _Nello_, why dost thou -behold me so advisedly? Whereunto _Nello_ answered, saying Hast thou -felt any paine this last night past? Thou lookest nothing so well, as -thou didst yesterday. _Calandrino_ began instantly to wax doubtfull, -and replyed thus. Dost thou see any alteration in my face, whereby to -imagine, I should feele some paine? In good faith _Calandrino_ (quoth -_Nello_) me thinks thy countenance is strangely changed, and surely it -proceedeth from some great cause, and so he departed away from him. - -_Calandrino_ being very mistrustfull, scratched his head, yet felte -he no grievance at all; and going still on; _Buffalmaco_ sodainely -encountred him, upon his departure from _Nello_, and after salutations -passing betweene them; in a manner of admiration, demanded what he -ayled. - -Truly (quoth _Calandrino_) well enough to mine owne thinking, yet -notwithstanding, I met with _Nello_ but even now; and he told me, that -my countenance was very much altred; Is it possible that I should bee -sicke, and feele no paine or distaste in any part of me? _Buffalmaco_ -answered; I am not so skilfull in judgement, as to argue on the Nature -of distemper in the body: but sure I am, that thou hast some daungerous -inward impediment, because thou lookst (almost) like a man more then -halfe dead. - -_Calandrino_ began presently to shake, as if hee had had a Feaver -hanging on him, and then came _Bruno_ looking fearefully on him, and -before he would utter any words, seemed greatly to bemoane him, saying -at length. _Calandrino_? Art thou the same man, or no? How wonderfully -art thou changed since last I saw thee, which is no longer then yester -day? I pray thee tell mee, How dooest thou feele thy health? - -_Calandrino_ hearing, that they all agreed in one opinion of him; -he beganne verily to perswade himselfe, that some sodaine sicknes, -had seised upon him, which they could discerne, although hee felt no -anguish at all: and therefore, like a man much perplexed in minde, -demanded of them, What he should do? Beleeve mee _Calandrino_ (answered -_Bruno_) if I were worthy to give thee counsell, thou shouldst returne -home presently to thy house, and lay thee downe in thy warme Bedde, -covered with so many cloathes as thou canst well endure. Then to Morrow -morning, send thy Water unto Learned Mayster Doctor the Physitian, who -(as thou knowest) is a man of most singular skill and experience: he -will instruct thee presently what is the best course to be taken, and -we that have ever beene thy loving friends, will not faile thee in any -thing that lieth in our power. - -By this time, _Nello_ being come againe unto them, they all returned -home with _Calandrino_ unto his owne house, whereinto he entering very -faintly, hee saide to his Wife: Woman, make my Bed presently ready, -for I feele my selfe to be growne extreamely sicke, and see that thou -layest cloathes enow upon me. Being thus laide in his Bedde, they left -him for that night, and returned to visite him againe the verie next -morning, by which time, he had made a reservation of his Water, and -sent it by a young Damosell unto Maister Doctor, who dwelt then in -the olde market place, at the signe of the Muske Mellone. Then saide -_Bruno_ unto his Companions; Abide you heere to keepe him company, and -I will walke along to the Physitian, to understand what he will say: -and if neede be, I can procure him to come hither with me. _Calandrino_ -very kindely accepted his offer, saying withall. Well _Bruno_, thou -shewst thy selfe a friend in the time of necessity, I pray thee know of -him, how the case stands with me, for I feele a very strange alteration -within mee, far beyond all compasse of my conceite. - -_Bruno_ being gone to the Physitian, he made such expedition, that he -arrived there before the Damosell, who carried the Water, and informed -Master _Simon_ with the whole tricke intended: wherefore, when the -Damosell was come, and hee had passed his judgement concerning the -water, he said to her. - -Maide, go home againe, and tell _Calandrino_, that he must keepe -himselfe very warme: and I my selfe will instantly be with him, to -enstruct him further in the quality of his sicknesse. - -The Damosell delivered her message accordingly, and it was not long -before Mayster Doctor _Simon_ came, with _Bruno_ also in his company, -and sitting downe on the beds side by _Calandrino_, hee began to taste -his pulse, and within a small while after, his Wife being come into the -Chamber, he said. Observe me well _Calandrino_, for I speake to thee in -the nature of a true friend; thou hast no other disease, but only thou -art great with child. - -So soone as _Calandrino_ heard these words, in dispairing manner he -beganne to rage, and cry out aloud, saying to his wife. Ah thou wicked -woman, this is long of thee, and thou hast done me this mischeefe: -for alwayes thou wilt be upon me, ever railing at mee, and fighting, -untill thou hast gotten me under thee. Say thou divellish creature, -do I not tell thee true? The Woman, being of verie honest and civill -conversation, hearing her husband speake so foolishly: blushing with -shame, and hanging downe her head in bashfull manner; without returning -any answer, went forth of her Chamber. - -_Calandrino_ continuing still in his angry humour, wringing his hands, -and beating them upon his brest, said: Wretched man that I am, What -shall I do? How shall I be delivered of this child? Which way can it -come from me into the world? I plainly perceyve, that I am none other -then a dead man, and all through the wickednesse of my Wife: heaven -plague her with as many mischiefes, as I am desirous to finde ease. -Were I now in as good health, as heeretofore I have beene, I would rise -out of my bed, and never cease beating her, untill I had broken her -in a thousand peeces. But if Fortune will be so favourable to me, as -to helpe mee out of this dangerous agony: hang me, if ever she get me -under her againe, or make me such an Asse, in having the mastery over -mee, as divers times she hath done. - -_Bruno, Buffalmaco_ and _Nello_, hearing these raving speeches of -_Calandrino_, were swolne so bigge with laughter, as if their ribbes -would have burst in sunder; neverthelesse, they abstained so well as -they were able; but Doctor _Simon_ gaped so wide with laughing as one -might easily have pluckt out all his teeth. In the end, because he -could tarry there no longer, but was preparing to depart: _Calandrino_ -thanked him for his paines, requesting that hee would be carefull of -him, in aiding him with his best advise and counsell, and he would -not be unmindfull of him. Honest neighbour _Calandrino_, answered the -Phisition, I would not have you to torment your selfe, in such an -impatient and tempestuous manner, because I perceive the time so to -hasten on, as we shall soone perceive (and that within very few dayes -space) your health well restored, and without the sense of much paine; -but indeed it will cost expences. Alas Sir, said _Calandrino_, mak not -any spare of my purse, to procure that I may have safe deliverance. -I have two hundred Florines, lately falne to me by the death of mine -Aunt, wherewith I intended to purchase a Farme in the Countrey: take -them all if need be, onely reserving some few for my lying in Childbed. -And then Master Doctor, Alas, I know not how to behave my selfe, for -I have heard the grievous complaint of women in that case, oppressed -with bitter pangs and throwes; as questionlesse they will bee my death, -except you have the greater care of me. - -Be of good cheere neighbour _Calandrino_, replyed Doctor _Simon_, -I will provide an excellent distilled drinke for you, marvellously -pleasing in taste, and of soveraigne vertue, which will resolve -all in three mornings, making you as whole and as sound as a Fish -newly spawned. But you must have an especiall care afterward, being -providently wise, least you fall into the like follies againe. -Concerning the preparation of this precious drinke, halfe a dozen -of Capons, the very fairest and fattest, I must make use of in the -distillation: what other things shall bee imployed beside, you may -deliver forty Florines to one of these your honest friends, to see all -the necessaries bought, and sent me home to my house. Concerning my -businesse, make you no doubt thereof, for I will have all distilled -against to morrow, and then doe you drinke a great Glasse full every -morning, fresh and fasting next your heart. _Calandrino_ was highly -pleased with his words, returning master Doctor infinite thankes, and -referring all to his disposing. And having given forty Florines to -_Bruno_, with other money beside, to buy the halfe dozen of Capons: -he thought himselfe greatly beholding to them all, and protested to -requite their kindenesse. - -Master Doctor being gone home to his house, made ready a bottel of -very excellent Hypocrasse, which he sent the next day according to his -promise: and _Bruno_ having bought the Capons, with other junkets, fit -for the turne, the Phisitian and his merry Companions, fed on them -hartely for the givers sake. As for _Calandrino_, he liked his dyet -drinke excellently well, quaffing a large Glassefull off three mornings -together: afterward Master Doctor and the rest came to see him, and -having felt his pulse, the Phisition said. _Calandrino_, thou art now -as sound in health, as any man in all _Florence_ can be: thou needest -not to keepe within doores any longer, but walke abroad boldly, for all -is well and the childe gone. - -_Calandrino_ arose like a joyfull man, and walked daily through the -streets, in the performance of such affaires as belonged to him: and -every acquaintance he met withall, he told the condition of his sudden -sickenesse; and what a rare cure Master Doctor _Simon_ had wrought on -him, delivering him (in three dayes space) of a childe, and without -the feeling of any paine. _Bruno, Buffalmaco,_ and _Nello,_ were not a -little jocond, for meeting so well with covetous _Calandrino_: but how -the Wife liked the folly of her Husband, I leave to the judgement of -all good Women. - - - - -Francesco Fortarigo, _played away all that he had at_ Buonconvento, -_and likewise the money of_ Francesco Aniolliero, _being his Master. -Then running after him in his shirt, and avouching that hee had robbed -him: he caused him to be taken by Pezants of the Country, clothed -himselfe in his Masters wearing garments, and (mounted on his horse) -rode thence to_ Sienna, _leaving_ Aniolliero _in his shirt, and walked -bare-footed._ - -The fourth Novell. - -_Serving as an admonition to all men, for taking Gamesters and -Drunkards into their service._ - - -The ridiculous words given by _Calandrino_ to his Wife, all the whole -company hartily laughed at: but _Philostratus_ ceassing, Madame -_Neiphila_ (as it pleased the Queene to appoint) began to speake thus. -Vertuous Ladies, if it were not more hard and uneasie for men, to make -good their understanding and vertue, then apparant publication of their -disgrace and folly; many would not labour in vaine, to curbe in their -idle speeches with a bridle, as you have manifestly observed by the -weake wit of _Calandrino_. Who needed no such fantastick circumstance, -to cure the strange disease, which he imagined (by sottish perswasions) -to have: had hee not been so lavish of his tongue, and accused his -Wife of over-mastering him. Which maketh me remember a Novell, quite -contrary to this last related, namely, how one man may strive to -surmount another in malice; yet he to sustaine the greater harme, that -had (at the first) the most advantage of his enemy, as I will presently -declare unto you. - -There dwelt in _Sienna_, and not many yeeres since, two young men -of equall age, both of them bearing the name of _Francesco_: but -the one was descended of the _Aniollieri_, and the other likewise -of the _Fortarigi_; so that they were commonly called _Aniolliero_, -and _Fortarigo_, both Gentlemen, and well derived. Now, although -in many other matters, their complexions did differ very much: Yet -notwithstanding, they varied not in one bad qualitie, namely too -great neglect of their Fathers, which caused their more frequent -conversation, as very familiar and respective friends. But _Aniolliero_ -(being a very goodly and faire conditioned young Gentleman) apparently -perceiving, that he could not maintaine himselfe at _Sienna_, in such -estate as he liked, and upon the pension allowed him by his Father, -hearing also, that at the Marquisate of _Ancona_, there lived the Popes -Legate, a worthy Cardinall, his much indeared good Lord and friend: he -intended to goe visite him, as hoping to advance his fortunes by him. - -Having acquainted his Father with this determination, he concluded -with him, to have that from him in a moment which might supply his -wants for many moneths, because he would be clothed gallantly, and -mounted honourably. And seeking for a servant necessary to attend on -him, it chanced that _Fortarigo_ hearing thereof, came presently to -_Aniolliero_, intreating him in the best manner he could, to let him -waite on him as his serving man, promising both dutifull and diligent -attendance: yet not to demaund any other wages, but onely payment of -his ordinary expences. _Aniolliero_ made him answere, that he durst -not give him entertainment, not in regard of his insufficiency, and -unaptnesse for service: but because he was a great Gamester, and divers -times would be beastly drunke? whereto _Fortarigo_ replyed that hee -would refraine from both those foule vices, and addict all his endeavour -wholly to please him, without just taxation of any grosse errour; -making such solemne vowes and protestations beside, as conquered -_Aniolliero_, and won his consent. - -Being entred upon his journey, and arriving in a morning at -_Buonconvento_, there _Aniolliero_ determined to dine, and afterward, -finding the heate to be unfit for travaile; he caused a bed to be -prepared, wherein being laid to rest by the helpe of _Fortarigo_, he -gave him charge, that after the heates violence was overpast, hee -should not faile to call and awake him. While _Aniolliero_ slept -thus in his bed, _Fortarigo_, never remembring his solemne vowes and -promises: went to the Taverne, where having drunke indifferently, and -finding company fit for the purpose, he fell to play at the dice with -them. In a very short while, he had not onely lost his money, but all -the cloathes on his backe likewise, and coveting to recover his losses -againe; naked in his shirt, he went to _Aniollieroes_ Chamber, where -finding him yet soundly sleeping, he tooke all the money he had in his -purse, and then returned backe to play, speeding in the same manner as -hee did before, not having one poore penny left him. - -_Aniolliero_ chancing to awake, arose and made him ready, without any -servant to helpe him; then calling for _Fortarigo_, and not hearing any -tydings of him: he began immediately to imagine, that he was become -drunke, and so had falne asleepe in one place or other, as very often -he was wont to doe. Wherefore, determining so to leave him, he caused -the male and Saddle to be set on his horse; & so to furnish himselfe -with a more honest servant at _Corsignano_. - -But when hee came to pay his hoste, hee found not any penny left him: -whereupon (as well he might) he grew greatly offended, and raised much -trouble in the house, charged the hoasts people to have robde him, and -threatening to have them sent as prisoners to _Sienna_. Suddenly entred -_Fortarigo_ in his shirt, with intent to have stolne _Aniollieroes_ -garments, as formerly hee did the money out of his purse, and seeing -him ready to mount on horsebacke, hee saide. - -How now _Aniolliero_? What shall we goe away so soone? I pray you Sir -tarry a little while, for an honest man is comming hither, who hath my -Doublet engaged for eight and thirty shillings; and I am sure that he -will restore it me back for five and thirty, if I could presently pay -him downe the money. - -During the speeches, an other entred among them, who assured -_Aniolliero_, that _Fortarigo_ was the Thiefe which robde him of -his money, shewing him also how much hee had lost at the Dice: -Wherewith _Aniolliero_ being much mooved, very angerly reprooved -_Fortarigo_, and, but for feare of the Law, would have offered him -outrage, thretning to have him hangd by the neck, or else condemned -to the Gallies belonging to _Florence_, and so mounted on his horse. -_Fortarigo_ making shew to the standers by, as if _Aniolliero_ menaced -some other body, and not him, said. Come _Aniolliero_, I pray thee -let us leave this frivilous prating, for (indeede) it is not worth a -Button, and minde a matter of more importance: my Doublet will bee had -againe for five and thirty shillings, if the money may bee tendered -downe at this very instant, whereas if we deferre it till to morrow, -perhaps hee will then have the whole eight and thirty which he lent -me, and he doth me this pleasure, because I am ready (at another time) -to affoord him the like courtesie; why then should we loose three -shillings, when they may so easily be saved. - -_Aniolliero_ hearing him speake in such confused manner, and perceiving -also, that they which stood gazing by, beleeved (as by their lookes -appeared) that _Fortarigo_ had not played away his Masters mony at -the Dice, but rather that he had some stocke of _Fortarigoes_ in his -custody; angerly answered; Thou sawcy companion, what have I to doe -with thy Doublet? I would thou wert hangd, not only for playing away -my money, but also by delaying thus my journey, and yet boldly thou -standest out-facing mee, as if I were no better then thy fellow. -_Fortarigo_ held on still his former behaviour, without using any -respect or reverence to _Aniolliero_, as if all the accusations did -not concerne him, but saying, Why should wee not take the advantage -of three shillings profit? Thinkest thou, that I am not able to doe -as much for thee? why, lay out so much money for my sake, and make no -more haste then needs we must, because we have day-light enough to -bring us (before night) to _Torreniero_. Come, draw thy purse, and pay -the money, for upon mine honest word, I may enquire throughout all -_Sienna_, and yet not find such another Doublet as this of mine is. To -say then, that I should leave it, where it now lyeth pawned, and for -eight and thirty shillings, when it is richly more worth then fifty, I -am sure to suffer a double endammagement thereby. - -You may well imagine, that _Aniolliero_ was now enraged beyond all -patience, to see himselfe both robde of his money, and overborne -with presumptuous language: wherefore, without making any more -replications, he gave the spurre to his horse, and rode away towards -_Torreniero_. Now fell _Fortarigo_ into a more knavish intention -against _Aniolliero_, and being very speedy in running, followed apace -after him in his shirt, crying out still aloude to him all the way, to -let him have his Doublet againe. _Aniolliero_ riding on very fast, to -free his eares from this idle importunity, it fortuned that _Fortarigo_ -espied divers countrey Pezants, labouring in the fields about their -businesse, and by whom _Aniolliero_ (of necessity) must passe: To them -he cryed out so loude as he could; Stay the Thiefe, Stop the Thiefe, he -rides away so fast, having robde me. - -They being provided, some with Prongges, Pitchforkes and Spades, and -others with the like weapons fit for Husbandry, stept into the way -before _Aniolliero_: and beleeving undoubtedly, that he had robde -the man which pursued him in his shirt, stayed and apprehended him. -Whatsoever _Aniolliero_ could doe or say, prevailed not any thing with -the unmannerly Clownes, but when _Fortarigo_ was arrived among them, he -braved _Aniolliero_ most impudently, saying. - -What reason have I to spoile thy life (thou traiterous Villaine) to -rob and spoyle thy Master thus on the high way? Then turning to the -Countrey Boores: How much deare friends (quoth he) am I beholding to -you for this unexpected kindnesse? You behold in what manner he left me -in my Lodging, having first playd away all my money at the Dice, and -then deceiving me of my horse and garments also: but had not you (by -great good lucke) thus holpe mee to stay him; a poore Gentleman had bin -undone for ever, and I should never have found him againe. - -_Aniolliero_ avouched the truth of his wrong received, but the base -peazants, giving credite onely to _Fortarigoes_ lying exclamations: -tooke him from his horse, despoyled him of all his wearing apparrell, -even to the very Bootes from off his Legges: suffered him to ride away -from him in that manner, and _Aniolliero_ left so in his shirt, to -dance a bare-foote Galliard after him, either towards _Sienna_, or any -place else. - -Thus _Aniolliero_, purposing to visite his Cousin the Cardinal like -a Gallant, and at the Marquisate of _Ancona_, returned backe poorly -in his shirt unto _Buonconvento_, and durst not (for shame) repaire -to _Sienna_. In the end, he borrowed money on the other horse which -_Fortarigo_ rode on, and remained there in the Inne, whence riding to -_Corsignano_, where he had divers Kinsmen and Friends, he continued -there so long with them, till he was better furnished from his Father. - -Thus you may perceive, that the cunning Villanies of _Fortarigo_, -hindred the honest intended enterprise of _Aniolliero_, howbeit in fit -time and place, nothing afterward was left unpunished. - - - - -Calandrino _became extraordinarily enamoured of a young Damosell, -named_ Nicholetta. Bruno _prepared a Charme or writing for him, -avouching constantly to him, that so soone as he touched the Damosell -therewith, she should follow him whithersoever hee would have her. She -being gone to an appointed place with him, hee was found there by his -wife, and dealt withall according to his deserving._ - -The fift Novell. - -_In just reprehension of those vaine-headed fooles, that are led and -governed by idle perswasions._ - - -Because the Novell reported by Madame _Neiphila_ was so soone -concluded, without much laughter, or commendation of the whole Company: -the Queene turned hir selfe towards Madam _Fiammetta_, enjoyning her to -succeed in apt order; & she being as ready as sodainly commanded, began -as followeth. Most gentle Ladies, I am perswaded of your opinion in -judgement with mine, that there is not any thing, which can bee spoken -pleasingly, except it be conveniently suited with apt time and place: -in which respect, when Ladies and Gentlewomen are bent to discoursing, -the due election of them both are necessarily required. And therefore I -am not unmindfull, that our meeting heere (ayming at nothing more, then -to out-weare the time with our generall contentment) should tye us to -the course of our pleasure and recreation, to the same conveniency of -time and place, not sparing, though some have bin nominated oftentimes -in our passed arguments; yet, if occasion serve, and the nature of -variety be well considered, wee may speake of the selfsame persons -againe. - -Now, notwithstanding the actions of _Calandrino_ have been -indifferently canvazed among us; yet, remembring what _Philostratus_ -not long since saide, That they intended to nothing more then matter of -mirth: I presume the boldlier, to report another Novell of him, beside -them already past. And, were I willing to conceale the truth, and -cloath it in more circumstantiall manner: I could make use of contrary -names, and paint it in a poeticall fiction, perhaps more probable, -though not so pleasing. But because wandring from the truth of things, -doth much diminish (in relation) the delight of the hearers: I will -build boldly on my fore-alledged reason, and tel you truly how it -hapned. - -_Niccholao Cornocchini_ was once a Citizen of ours, and a man of great -wealth; who, among other his rich possessions in _Camerata_, builded -there a very goodly house, which being perfected ready for painting: -he compounded with _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_, who because** their worke -required more helpe then their owne, they drew _Nello_ and _Calandrino_ -into their association, and began to proceed in their businesse. And -because there was a Chamber or two, having olde moveables in them, as -Bedding, Tables, and other Houshold stuffe beside, which were in the -custody of an old Woman that kepte the house, without the helpe of any -other servants else, a Son unto the saide _Niccholao_, beeing named -_Phillippo_, resorted thither divers times, with one or other prety -Damosell in his company (in regard he was unmarried) where he would -abide a day or two with her, & then convey her home againe. - -At one time among the rest, it chanced that he brought a Damosell -thither named _Nicholetta_, who was maintained by a wily companion, -called _Magione_, in a dwelling which hee had at _Camaldoli_, and -(indeed) no honester then she should be. She was a very beautifull -young woman, wearing garments of great value, and (according to her -quality) well spoken, and of commendable carriage. Comming forth of -her Chamber one day, covered with a White veyle, because her haire -hung loose about her, which shee went to wash at a Well in the middle -Court, bathing there also her face and hands: _Calandrino_ going (by -chance) to the same Well for water, gave her a secret salutation. -She kindly returning the like courtesie to him, began to observe him -advisedly: more, because he looked like a man newly come thither, then -any handsomnesse she perceyved in him. - -_Calandrino_ threw wanton glances at her, and seeing she was both -faire and lovely, began to finde some occasion of tarrying, so that -he returned not with water to his other associates, yet neither -knowing her, or daring to deliver one word. She, who was not to -learn her lesson in alluring, noting what affectionate regards (with -bashfulnesse) he gave her: answered him more boldly with the like; but -meerly in scorning manner, breathing forth divers dissembled sighs -among them: so that _Calandrino_ became foolishly inveigled with her -love, and would not depart out of the Court, untill _Phillippo_, -standing above in his Chamber window called her thence. - -When _Calandrino_ was returned backe to his businesse, he could do -nothing else, but shake the head, sigh, puffe, and blowe, which being -observed by _Bruno_ (who alwayes fitted him according to his folly, as -making a meer mockery of his very best behaviour) sodainly he said. Why -how now _Calandrino_? Sigh, puff, and blow man? What may be the reason -of these unwonted qualities? _Calandrino_ immediately answered, saying: -My friendly Companion _Bruno_, if I had one to lend me a little helpe, -I should very quickely become well enough. How? quoth _Bruno_, doth -any thing offend thee, and wilt thou not reveale it to thy friends? -Deare _Bruno_, said _Calandrino_, there is a proper handsome woman here -in the house, the goodliest creature that every any eye beheld, much -fairer then the Queen of Fairies her selfe, who is so deeply falne in -love with mee, as thou wouldst thinke it no lesse then a wonder; and -yet I never sawe her before, till yet while when I was sent to fetch -water. A very strange case, answered _Bruno_, take heede _Calandrino_, -that shee bee not the lovely friend to _Phillippo_, our yong Master, -for then it may prove a dangerous matter. - -_Calandrino_ stood scratching his head an indifferent while, and then -sodainly replyed thus. Now trust me _Bruno_, it is to bee doubted, -because he called her at his Window, and she immediatly went up to his -Chamber. But what doe I care if it be so? Have not the Gods themselves -bene beguiled of their Wenches, who were better men then ever -_Phillippo_ can be, and shall I stand in feare of him? _Bruno_ replied: -Be patient _Calandrino_, I will enquire what Woman she is, and if she -be not the wife or friend to our young master _Phillippo_, with faire -perswasions I can over-rule the matter, because shee is a familiar -acquaintance of mine. But how shall wee doe, that _Buffalmaco_ may not -know heereof? I can never speake to her, if hee be in my company. For -_Buffalmaco_ (quoth _Calandrino_) I have no feare of all, but rather -of _Nello_, because he is a neer Kinsman to my wife, and he is able to -undo me quite, if once it should come to his hearing. Thou saist well, -replyed _Bruno_, therefore the matter hath neede to be very cleanly -carried. - -Now let me tell you, the Woman was well enough knowne to _Bruno_, as -also her quality of life, which _Phillippo_ had acquainted him withall, -and the reason of her resorting thither. Wherefore, _Calandrino_ going -forth of the roome where they wrought, onely to gaine another sight -of _Nicholetta, Bruno_ revealed the whole history to _Buffalmaco_ and -_Nello_; they all concluding together, how this amorous fit of the -foole was to be followed. And when _Calandrino_ was returned backe -againe; in whispering manner _Bruno_ said to him. Hast thou once more -seene her? Yes, yes _Bruno_, answered _Calandrino_: Alas, she hath -slaine me with her very eye, and I am no better then a dead man. Be -patient said _Bruno_, I will goe and see whether she be the same woman -which I take her for, or no: and if it prove so, then never feare, but -refer the businesse unto me. - -_Bruno_ descending downe the staires, found _Phillippo_ and -_Nicholetta_ in conference together, and stepping unto them, discoursed -at large, what manner of man _Calandrino_ was, and how farre he was -falne in love with her: so that they made a merry conclusion, what -should be performed in this case, onely to make a pastime of his hot -begun love. And being come backe againe to _Calandrino_, he saide. It -is the same woman whereof I told thee, and therefore wee must worke -wisely in the businesse: for if _Phillippo_ perceive any thing, all the -water in _Arno_ will hardly serve to quench his fury. But what wouldst -thou have me say to her on thy behalfe, if I compasse the meanes to -speake with her? First of all (quoth _Calandrino_) and in the prime -place, tell her, that I wish infinite bushels of those blessings, which -makes Maides Mothers, and begetteth children. Next, that I am onely -hers, in any service she will command me. Dooest thou understand me what -I say? Sufficiently answered _Bruno_, leave all to me. - -When supper time was come, that they gave over working, and were -descended downe into the Court: there they found _Phillippo_ and -_Nicholetta_ readily attending to expect some beginning of amorous -behaviour, and _Calandrino_ glanced such leering lookes at her, -coughing and spetting with hummes and haes, yea in such close and -secret manner, that a starke blinde sight might verie easily have -perceyved it. - -She also on the other side, returned him such queint and cunning -carriage, as enflamed him farre more furiously, even as if hee were -ready to leape out of himselfe. In the meane while, _Phillippo, -Buffalmaco_ and the rest that were there present, seeming as if they -were seriouslie consulting together, and perceived nothing of his -fantastick behavior, according as _Bruno_ had appointed, could scarse -refraine from extremity of laughter, they noted such antick trickes in -_Calandrino_. - -Having spent an indifferent space in this foppish folly, the houre of -parting came, but not without wonderfull affliction to _Calandrino_; -and as they were going towards _Florence, Bruno_ saide closely to -_Calandrino_. I dare assure thee, that thou hast made her to consume -and melt, even like ice against the warme Sunne. On my word, if thou -wouldst bring thy Gitterne, and sit downe by us, singing some few -amorous songs of thine owne making, when we are beneath about our -businesse in the Court: shee would presently leape out of the Window, -as being unable to tarry from thee. - -I like thy counsell well _Bruno_, answered _Calandrino_; but shall I -bring my Gitterne thither indeed? Yes, in any case, replied _Bruno_, -for Musicke is a matter of mighty prevailing. Ah _Bruno_ (quoth -_Calandrino_) thou wouldst not credit me in the morning, when I tolde -thee, how the very sight of my person had wounded her: I perceived it -at the very first looke of her owne, for shee had no power to conceale -it. Who but my selfe could so soone have enflamed her affection, and -being a woman of such worth and beauty as shee is? There are infinite -proper handsome fellowes, that daily haunt the company of dainty -Damosels, yet are so shallow in the affayres of love, as they are not -able to win one wench of a thousand, no, not with all the wit they -have, such is their extreame follie and ill fortune. - -Then pausing a while, and sodainely rapping out a Lovers Oath or -two, thus he proceeded. My dearest _Bruno_, thou shalt see how I can -tickle my Gitterne, and what good sport will ensue thereon. If thou -dost observe me with judgement, why man, I am not so old as I seeme -to be, and she could perceive it at the very first view; yea, and she -shall finde it so too, when we have leysure to consult upon further -occasions: I finde my selfe in such a free and frolicke jocunditie of -spirit, that I will make her to follow me, even as a fond woman doth -after her child. - -But beware, saide _Bruno_, that thou do not gripe her over-hard, and in -kissing, bee carefull of biting, because the teeth stand in thy head -like the pegges of a Lute, yet make a comely shew in thy faire wide -mouth, thy cheekes looking like two of our artificiall Roses, swelling -amiably, when thy jawes are well fild with meat. _Calandrino_ hearing -these hansome commendations, thought himselfe a man of action already, -going, singing, and frisking before his companie so lively, as if he -had not bin in his skin. - -On the morrow, carrying his Gitterne thither with him, to the no -little delight of his companions, hee both played and sung a whole -Bed-role of Songs, not addicting himselfe to any worke all the day: but -loitering fantastically, one while he gazed out at the window, then -ran to the gate, and oftentimes downe into the Court, onely to have -a sight of his Mistresse. She also (as cunningly) encountred all his -follies, by such directions as _Bruno_ gave her, and many more beside -of her owne devising, to quicken him still with new occasions; _Bruno_ -plaid the Ambassador betweene them, in delivering the messages from -_Calandrino_, and then returning her answers to him. Sometimes when she -was absent thence (which often hapned as occasions called her) then he -would write letters in her name, & bring them, as if they were sent by -her, to give him hope of what hee desired, but because she was then -among her kindred, yet she could not be unmindfull of him. - -In this manner, _Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_ (who had the managing of this -amorous businesse) made a meere Gregory of poore _Calandrino_, causing -him somtimes to send her, one while a pretty peece of Ivory, then a -faire wrought purse, and a costly paire of knives, with other such like -friendly tokens: bringing him backe againe, as in requitall of them, -counterfetted Rings of no valew, Bugles and bables, which he esteemed -as matters of great moment. Moreover, at divers close and sodain -meetings, they made him pay for many dinners & suppers, amounting to -indifferent charges, onely to be carefull** in the furtherance of his -love-suit, and to conceale it from his wife. - -Having worne out three or foure months space in this fond and frivolous -manner, without any other successe then as hath bene declared; and -_Calandrino_ perceiving, that the works undertaken by him and his -fellowes, grew very neere uppon the finishing, which would barre him -of any longer resorting thither: hee began to solicite _Bruno_ more -importunately, then all the while before he hadde done. In regard -whereof, _Nicholetta_ being one day come thither, & _Bruno_ having -conferred both with her and _Phillippo_, with full determination what -was to be done, he began with _Calandrino_, saying. My honest Neighbour -and Friend, this Woman hath made a thousand promises, to graunt what -thou art so desirous to have, and I plainly perceive that she hath -no such meaning, but meerely plaies with both our noses. In which -respect, seeing she is so perfidious, and will not perfourme one of all -her faithfull-made promises: if thou wilt content to have it so, she -shall be compelled to do it whether she will or no. Yea marry _Bruno_, -answered _Calandrino_, that were an excellent course indeede, if it -could be done, and with expedition. - -_Bruno_ stood musing awhile to himselfe, as if he had some strange -stratagem in his braine, & afterward said. Hast thou so much corage -_Calandrino_, as but to handle a peece of written parchment, which I -will give thee? Yes, that I have answered _Calandrino_, I hope that -needed not to be doubted. Well then, saide _Bruno_, procure that I -may have a piece of Virgin Parchment brought mee, with a living Bat -or Reremouse; three graines of Incense, and an hallowed Candle, then -leave me to effect what shall content thee. _Calandrino_ watched all the -next night following, with such preparation as he could make, onely -to catch a Bat; which being taken at the last, he broght it alive to -_Bruno_ (with all the other materials appointed) who taking him alone -into a backer Chamber, there hee wrote divers follies on the Parchment, -in the shape of strange and unusuall Charracters, which he delivered -to _Calandrino_, saying: Be bold _Calandrino_, and build constantly -uppon my wordes, that if thou canst but touch her with this sacred -Charractred charme, she will immediately follow thee, and fulfil -whatsoever thou pleasest to command hir. Wherefore, if _Phillippo_ do -this day walke any whither abroad from this house, presume to salute -her, in any manner whatsoever it be, & touching her with the written -lines, go presently to the barn of hay, which thou perceivest so neere -adjoyning, the onely convenient place that can be, because few or none -resort thither. She shall (in despight of her blood) follow thee; and -when thou hast her there, I leave thee then to thy valiant victory. -_Calandrino_ stood on tiptoe, like a man newly molded by Fortune, and -warranted _Bruno_ to fulfil all effectually. - -_Nello_, whom _Calandrino_ most of all feared and mistrusted, had a -hand as deepe as any of the rest in this deceite, and was as forward -also to have it performed, by _Brunoes_ direction, hee went unto -_Florence_, where being in company with _Calandrinoes_ Wife, thus hee -began. - -Cousine, thine unkinde usage by thine husband, is not unknown to me, -how he did beate thee (beyond the compasse of all reason) when he -brought home stones from the plain of _Mugnone_; in which regard, I -am very desirous to have thee revenged on him: which if thou wilt not -do; never repute me heereafter for thy Kinsman and Friend. He is falne -in love with a Woman of the common gender, one that is to be hired -for money: he hath his private meetings with her, and the place is -partly knowne to me, as by a secret appointment (made very lately) I am -credibly given to understand; wherefore walke presently along with me, -and thou shalt take him in the heat of his knavery. - -All the while as these words were uttering to her, shee could not -dissemble her inward impatience, but starting up as halfe franticke -with fury, she said. O notorious villaine! Darest thou abuse thine -honest wife so basely? I sweare by blessed Saint _Bridget_, thou shalt -be paid with coyne of thine owne stampe. So casting a light wearing -Cloake about her, and taking a yong woman in her company; shee went -away with _Nello_ in no meane haste. _Bruno_ seeing her comming a farre -off, said to _Phillippo_: You Sir, you know what is to be done, act -your part according to your appointment. _Phillippo_ went immediately -into the roome, where _Calandrino_ and his other Consorts were at -worke, and said to them. Honest friends, I have certaine occasions -which command mine instant being at _Florence_: worke hard while I am -absent, and I will not be unthankefull for it. Away hee departed from -them, and hid himselfe in a convenient place, where he could not be -descryed, yet see whatsoever _Calandrino_ did: who when he imagined -_Phillippo_ to be farre enough off, descended downe into the Court, -where he found _Nicholetta_ sitting alone, and going towards her, began -to enter into discoursing with her. - -She knowing what remained to bee done on her behalfe, drew somewhat -neere him, and shewed her selfe more familiar then formerly she had -done: by which favourable meanes, he touched her with the charmed -Parchment, which was no sooner done; but without using any other kinde -of language, hee went to the hay-Barne, whither _Nicholetta_ followed -him, and both being entred, he closed the Barne doore, and then stood -gazing on her, as if hee had never seene her before. Standing still as -in a study, or bethinking himselfe what he should say: she began to -use affable gesture to him, and taking him by the hand, made shew as -if shee meant to kisse him, which yet she refrained, though he (rather -then his life) would gladly have had it. Why how now deare _Calandrino_ -(quoth she) jewell of my joy, comfort of my heart, how many times have -I longed for thy sweet Company? And enjoying it now, according to mine -owne desire, dost thou stand like a Statue, or man _alla morte_? The -rare tunes of the Gitterne, but (much more) the melodious accents of -thy voyce, excelling _Orpheus_ or _Amphion_, so ravished my soule, as I -know not how to expresse the depth of mine affection; and yet hast thou -brought me hither, onely to looke babies in mine eyes, and not so much -as speake one kinde word to me? - -_Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_, having hid themselves close behinde -_Phillippo_, they both heard and saw all this amourous conflict, and -as _Calandrino_ was quickning his courage, and wiping his mouth, with -intent to kisse her: his wife and _Nello_ entred into the Barne, which -caused _Nicholetta_ to get her gone presently, sheltring her self where -_Phillippo_ lay scouting. But the enraged woman ranne furiously upon -poore daunted _Calandrino_, making such a pitiful massacre with her -nailes, and tearing the haire from his head, as hee meerely looked -like an infected Anatomy. Fowle loathsome dog (quoth she) must you be -at your minions, and leave mee hunger-starved at home? An olde knave -with (almost) never a good tooth in thy head, and yet art thou neighing -after young wenches? hast thou not worke enough at home, but must bee -gadding in to other mens grounds? Are these the fruites of wandring -abroad? - -_Calandrino_ being in this pittifull perplexity, stood like one neither -alive nor dead, nor daring to use any resistance against her; but fell -on his knees before his Wife, holding up his hands for mercy, and -entreating her (for charities sake) not to torment him any more: for -he had committed no harme at all, and the Gentlewoman was his Masters -Wife, who came with no such intent thither, as shee fondly imagined. -Wife, or wife not (quoth she) I would have none to meddle with my -Husband, but I that have the most right to him. - -_Bruno_ and _Buffalmaco_, who had laughed all this while heartily at -this pastime, with _Phillippo_ and _Nicholetta_; came running in haste -to know the reason of this loude noise, and after they had pacified -the woman with gentle perswasions: they advised _Calandrino_ to walke -with his Wife to _Florence_, and returne no more to worke there againe, -least _Phillippo_ hearing what had hapned, should be revenged on him -with some outrage. Thus poore _Calandrino_ miserably misused and -beaten, went home to _Florence_ with his Wife, scoulded and raild at -all the way, beside his other molestations** (day and night) afterward: -his Companions, _Phillippo_ and _Nicholetta_, making themselves merry -at his mis-fortune. - - - - -_Two yong Gentlemen, the one named_ Panuccio, _and the other_ Adriano, -_lodged one night in a poore Inne, where one of them went to bed to the -Hostes Daughter, and the other (by mistaking his way in the darke) to -the Hostes wife. He which lay with the daughter, happened afterward to -the Hostes bed, and told him what he had done, as thinking he spake to -his owne companyon. Discontentment growing betweene them, the Mother -perceiving her errour, went to bed to her daughter, and with discreete -language, made a generall pacification._ - -The Sixt Novell. - -_Wherein is manifested, that an offence committed ignorantly, and by -mistaking; ought to be covered with good advise, and civill discretion._ - - -_Calandrino_, whose mishaps had so many times made the whole assembly -merry, and this last passing among them with indifferent commendations: -upon a generall silence commanded, the Queene gave order to -_Pamphilus_, that hee should follow next, as indeed he did, beginning -thus. Praise-worthy Ladies, the name of _Nicholetta_, so fondly affected -by _Calandrino_, putteth mee in minde of a Novell, concerning another -_Nicholetta_, of whom I purpose to speake: to the ende you may observe -how by a sudden wary fore-sight, a discreet woman compassed the meanes -to avoyde a notorious scandall. - -On the plaine of _Mugnone_, neere to _Florence_, dwelt (not long since) -an honest meane man, who kept a poore Inne or Ostery for travellers, -where they might have some slender entertainement for their money. As -he was but a poore man, so his house affoorded but very small receit -of guests, not lodging any but on necessity, and such as he had some -knowledge of. This honest poore hoste had a woman (sufficiently faire) -to his wife, by whom hee had also two children, the one a comely young -maiden, aged about fifteene yeares, and the other a sonne, not fully -(as yet) a yeare old, and sucking on the mothers brest. - -A comely youthfull Gentleman of our City, became amorously affected to -the Damosell, resorting thither divers times as hee travelled on the -way, to expresse how much he did respect her. And she accounting her -fortune none of the meanest, to bee beloved by so youthfull a Gallant, -declared such vertuous and modest demeanour, as might deserve his best -opinion of her: so that their love grew to an equall simpathy, and -mutuall contentment of them both, in expectation of further effects; he -being named _Panuccio_, and she _Nicholetta_. - -The heate of affection thus encreasing day by day, _Panuccio_ grew -exceedingly desirous to enjoy the fruits of his long continued liking, -and divers devises mustred in his braine, how he might compasse one -nights lodging in her fathers house, whereof hee knew every part and -parcell, as not doubting to effect what hee desired, yet undiscovered -by any, but the maide her selfe. - -According as his intention aymed, so he longed to put it in execution, -and having imparted his mind to an honest loyall friend, named -_Adriano_, who was acquainted with the course of his love: hyring -two horses, and having Portmantues behind them, filled with matters -of no moment, they departed from _Florence_, as if they had some -great journey to ride. Having spent the day time where themselves -best pleased, darke night being entred, they arrived on the plaine of -_Mugnone_, where, as if they were come from the parts of _Romanio_, -they rode directly to this poore Inne, and knocking at the doore, the -honest Hoste (being familiar and friendly to all commers) opened the -doore, when _Panuccio_ spake in this manner to him. Good man, we must -request one nights lodging with you, for we thought to have reached -so farre as _Florence_, but dark night preventing us, you see at what -a late houre wee are come hither. Signior _Panuccio_, answered the -hoste, it is not unknowne to you, how unfitting my poore house is, for -entertaining such guests as you are: Neverthelesse, seeing you are -overtaken by so unseasonable an houre, and no other place is neere for -your receite; I will gladly lodge you so well as I can. - -When they were dismounted from their horses, and entred into the simple -Inne: having taken order for feeding their horses, they accepted such -provision, as the place and time afforded, requesting the Hoste to -suppe with them. Now I am to tell you, that there was but one small -Chamber in the house, wherein stood three beds, as best the Hoste had -devised to place them, two of them standing by the walles side, and -the third fronting them both, but with such close and narrow passage, -as very hardly could one step betweene them. The best of these three -beds was appointed for the Gentlemen, and therein theyd lay them down -to rest, but sleepe they could not, albeit they dissembled it very -formally. In the second Bed was _Nicholetta_ the daughter, lodged by -her selfe, and the father and mother in the third, and because she was -to give the child sucke in the night time, the Cradle (wherein it lay) -stood close by their beds side, because the childes crying or any other -occasion concerning it, should not disquiet the Gentlemen. - -_Panuccio_ having subtily observed all this, and in what manner they -went to bed; after such a space of time, as he imagined them to be -all fast asleepe, he arose very softly, and stealing to the bed of -_Nicholetta_, lay downe gently by her. And albeit she seemed somewhat -afraid at the first, yet when she perceived who it was, shee rather -bad him welcome, then shewed her selfe any way discontented. Now while -_Panuccio_ continued thus with the maide, it fortuned that a Cat threw -down somewhat in the house, the noise whereof awaked the wife, and -fearing greater harme, then (indeed) had hapned, she arose without a -Candle, and went groping in the darke, towards the place where shee -heard the noyse. _Adriano_, who had no other meaning but well, found -occasion also to rise, about some naturall necessity, and making his -passage in the darke, stumbled on the childes Cradle (in the way) where -the woman had set it, and being unable to passe by, without removing -it from the place: tooke and set it by his owne beds side, and having -done the businesse for which he rose, returned to his bed againe, never -remembring to set the Cradle where first he found it. - -The Wife having found the thing throwne downe being of no value or -moment, cared not for lighting any candle; but rating the Cat, returned -backe, feeling for the bed where her Husband lay, but finding not the -Cradle there, she said to her selfe. What a foolish woman am I, that -cannot well tell my selfe what I doe? Instead of my Husbands bed, I am -going to both my guests. - -So, stepping on a little further, she found the childes Cradle, and -laid her selfe downe by _Adriano_, thinking shee had gone right to her -Husband. _Adriano_ being not yet falne asleepe, feeling the hostesse -in bed with him: tooke advantage of so faire an occasion offered, and -what he did, is no businesse of mine, (as I heard) neither found the -woman any fault. Matters comming to passe in this strange manner, and -_Panuccio_ fearing, lest sleepe seazing on him, he might disgrace the -maides reputation: taking his kinde farewell of her, with many kisses -and sweet imbraces: returned againe to his owne Bed, but meeting with -the Cradle in his way, and thinking it stood by the hostes Bed, (as -truely it did so at the first) went backe from the Cradle, and stept -into the hostes Bed indeed, who awaked upon his very entrance, albeit -he slept very soundly before. - -_Panuccio_ supposing that he was laid downe by his loving friend -_Adriano_, merrily said to the Hoste. I protest to thee, as I am a -Gentleman, _Nicholetta_ is a dainty delicate wench, and worthy to be -a very good mans wife: this night shee hath given mee the sweetest -entertainement, as the best Prince in the world can wish no better, -and I have kist her most kindly for it. The Hoste hearing these newes, -which seemed very unwelcome to him, said first to himself: What make -such a devill heere in my Bedde? Afterward being more rashly angry, -then well advised, hee said to _Panuccio_. Canst thou makes vaunt of -such a mounstrous villany? Or thinkest thou, that heaven hath not due -vengeance in store, to requite all wicked deeds of darkenesse? If all -should sleepe, yet I have courage sufficient to right my wrong, and yet -as olde as I am thou shalt be sure to finde it. - -Our amorous _Panuccio_ being none of the wisest young men in the world, -perceiving his errour; sought not to amend it, (as well he might have -done) with some queint straine of wit, carried in quicke and cleanly -manner, but angerly answered. What shall I find that thou darst doe to -me? am I any way afraid of thy threatnings? The Hostes imagining she -was in bed with her Husband, said to _Adriano_: Harke Husband, I thinke -our Guests are quarrelling together, I hope they will doe no harme to -one another. _Adriano_ laughing outright, answered. Let them alone, and -become friends againe as they fell out: perhaps they dranke too much -yesternight. - -The woman perceiving that it was her husband that quarrelled, and -distinguishing the voyce of _Adriano_ from his: knew presently where -shee was, and with whom; wherefore having wit at will, and desirous -to cloude an error unadvisedly committed, and with no willing consent -of her selfe: without returning any more words, presently she rose, -and taking the Cradle with the child in it, removed it thence to her -daughters bed side, although shee had no light to helpe her, and -afterward went to bed to her, where (as if she were but newly awaked) -she called her Husband, to understand what angry speeches had past -betweene him and _Panuccio_. The Hoste replyed, saying. Didst thou not -heare him wife, brag & boast, how he hath lyen this night with our -daughter _Nicholetta_? Husband (quoth she) he is no honest Gentleman; -if hee should say so, and beleeve me it is a manifest lye, for I am in -bed with her my selfe, and never yet closed mine eyes together, since -the first houre I laid me downe: it is unmannerly done of him to speake -it, and you are little lesse then a logger-head, if you doe beleeve -it. This proceedeth from your bibbing and swilling yesternight, which -(as it seemeth) maketh you to walke about the roome in your sleepe, -dreaming of wonders in the night season: it were no great sinne if you -brake your necks, to teach you keepe a fairer quarter; and how commeth -it to passe, that Signior _Panuccio_ could not keepe himselfe in his -owne bed? - -_Adriano_ (on the other side) perceiving how wisely the woman excused -her owne shame and her daughters; to backe her in a businesse so -cunningly begun, he called to _Panuccio_, saying. Have not I tolde -thee an hundred times, that thou art not fit to lye any where; out of -thine owne lodging? What a shame is this base imperfection to thee, by -rising and walking thus in the night-time, according as thy dreames -doe wantonly delude thee, and cause thee to forsake thy bed, telling -nothing but lies and fables, yet avouching them for manifest truthes? -Assuredly this will procure no meane perill unto thee: Come hither, and -keepe in thine owne bedde for meere shame. - -When the honest meaning Host heard, what his own Wife and _Adriano_ had -confirmed: he was verily perswaded, that _Panuccio_ spake in a dreame -all this while: And to make it the more constantly apparant, _Panuccio_ -(being now growne wiser by others example) lay talking and blundring -to himselfe, even as if dreames or perturbations of the minde did much -molest him, with strange distractions in franticke manner. Which the -Hoste perceiving, and compassionating his case, as one man should do -anothers: he tooke him by the shoulders, jogging and hunching him, -saying. Awake Signior _Panuccio_, and get you gone hence to your owne -bed. - -_Panuccio_, yawning and stretching out his limbes, with unusuall -groanes and respirations, such as (better) could bee hardly dissembled: -seemed to wake as out of a traunce, and calling his friend _Adriano_, -said. - -_Adriano_, is it day, that thou dost waken me? It may be day or night -replyed _Adriano_, for both (in these fits) are alike to thee. Arise -man for shame, and come to thine lodging. Then faining to be much -troubled and sleepie, he arose from the hoast, and went to _Adrianoes_ -bed. - -When it was day, and all in the house risen, the hoast began to smile -at _Panuccio_, mocking him with his idle dreaming and talking in the -night. - -So, falling from one merry matter to another, yet without any mislike -at all: the Gentlemen, having their horses prepared, and their -Portmantues fastened behind, drinking to their hoast, mounted on -horsebacke, and they roade away towards _Florence_, no lesse contented -with the manner of occasions happened, then the effects they sorted -to. Afterward, other courses were taken, for the continuance of this -begun pleasure with _Nicholetta_, who made her mother beleeve, that -_Panuccio_ did nothing else but dreame. And the mother her selfe -remembring how kindely _Adriano_ had used her (a fortune not expected -by her before:) was more then halfe of the minde, that she did then -dreame also, while she was waking. - - - - -Talano de Molese _dreamed, That a Wolfe rent and tore his wives face -and throate. Which dreame he told to her, with advise to keep her selfe -out of danger; which she refusing to doe, received what followed._ - -The Seventh Novell. - -_Whereby (with some indifferent reason) it is concluded, that Dreames -do not alwayes fall out to be leasings._ - - -By the conclusion of _Pamphilus_ his Novel, wherein the womans ready -wit, at a time of such necessity, carried deserved commendations: the -Queen gave command to Madam _Pampinea_, that she should next begin with -hers, and so she did, in this manner. In some discourses (gracious -Ladies) already past among us, the truth of apparitions in dreames -hath partly bin approved, whereof very many have made a mockery. -Neverthelesse, whatsoever hath heeretofore bin sayde, I purpose to -acquaint you with a very short Novell, of a strange accident happening -unto a neighbour of mine, in not crediting a Dreame which her Husband -told her. - -I cannot tell, whether you knew _Talano de Molese_, or no, a man of -much honour, who tooke to wife a yong Gentlewoman, named _Margarita_, -as beautifull as the best: but yet so peevish, scornefull, and -fantasticall, that she disdained any good advice given her; neyther -could any thing be done, to cause her contentment; which absurd humours -were highly displeasing to her husband: but in regard he knew not how -to helpe it, constrainedly he did endure it. It came to passe, that -_Talano_ being with his wife, at a summer-house of his owne in the -country, he dreamed one night, that he saw his Wife walking in a faire -wood, which adjoyned neere unto his house, and while she thus continued -there, he seemed to see issue foorth from a corner of the said Wood, a -great and furious Wolfe, which leaping sodainly on her, caught her by -the face and throate, drawing her downe to the earth, and offering to -drag her thence. But he crying out for helpe, recovered her from the -Wolfe, yet having her face and throat very pitifully rent and torne. - -In regard of this terrifying dreame, when _Talano_ was risen in the -morning, and sate conversing with his wife, he spake thus unto hir. -Woman, although thy froward wilfull Nature be such, as hath not -permitted me one pleasing day with thee, since first we becam man and -wife, but rather my life hath bene most tedious to me, as fearing still -some mischeefe should happen to thee: yet let mee now in loving manner -advise thee, to follow my counsell, and (this day) not to walke abroad -out of this house. She demanded a reason for this advice of his. He -related to her every particular of his dreame, adding with all these -speeches. - -True it is Wife (quoth he) that little credit should bee given to -dreames: neverthelesse, when they deliver advertisement of harmes -to ensue, there is nothing lost by shunning and avoiding them. She -fleering in his face, and shaking her head at him, replyed. Such harmes -as thou wishest, such thou dreamest of. Thou pretendest much pittie -and care of me, but all to no other end: but what mischeefes thou -dreamest happening unto mee, so wouldest thou see them effected on me. -Wherefore, I will well enough looke to my selfe, both this day, and at -all times else: because thou shalt never make thy selfe merry, with any -such misfortune as thou wishest unto me. - -Well Wife, answered _Talano_, I knew well enough before, what thou -wouldst say: An unsound head is soone scratcht with the very gentlest -Combe: but beleeve as thou pleasest. As for my selfe, I speake with a -true and honest meaning soule, and once againe I do advise thee, to -keepe within our doores all this day: at least wife beware, that thou -walke not into our wood, bee it but in regard of my dreame. Well sir -(quoth she scoffingly) once you shall say, I followed your counsell: -but within her selfe she fell to this murmuring. Now I perceive my -husbands cunning colouring, & why I must not walke this day into our -wood: he hath made a compact with some common Queane, closely to have -her company there, and is afraide least I shold take them tardy. Belike -he would have me feed among blinde folke, and I were worthy to bee -thought a starke foole, if I should not prevent a manifest trechery, -being intended against me. Go thither therefore I will, and tarry there -all the whole day long; but I will meet with him in his merchandize, -and see the Pink wherein he adventures. - -After this her secret consultation, her husband was no sooner gone -forth at one doore, but shee did the like at another, yet so secretly -as possibly she could devise to doe, and (without any delaying) she -went to the Wood, wherein she hid her selfe very closely, among the -thickest of the bushes, yet could discerne every way about her, if -any body should offer to passe by her. While shee kept her selfe in -this concealment, suspecting other mysterious matters, as her idle -imagination had tutord her, rather then the danger of any Wolfe; out of -a brakie thicket by her, sodainly rushed a huge & dreadfull Wolfe, as -having found her by the sent, mounting uppe, and grasping her throat in -his mouth, before she saw him, or could call to heaven for mercy. - -Being thus seised of her, he carried her as lightly away, as if shee -had bin no heavier then a Lambe, she being (by no meanes) able to cry, -because he held her so fast by the throate, and hindred any helping -of her selfe. As the Wolfe carried her thus from thence, he had quite -strangled her, if certaine Shepheards had not met him, who with their -outcries and exclaimes at the Wolfe, caused him to let her fall, and -hast away to save his owne life. Notwithstanding the harme done to her -throat and face, the shepheards knew her, and caried her home to her -house, where she remained a long while after, carefully attended by -Physitians and Chirurgians. - -Now, although they were very expert and cunning men all, yet could -they not so perfectly cure her, but both her throate, and part of -her face were so blemished, that whereas she seemed a rare creature -before, she was now deformed and much unsightly. In regard of which -strange alteration, being ashamed to shew her selfe in any place, where -formerly she had bene seene: she spent her time in sorrow and mourning, -repenting her insolent and scornfull carriage, as also her rash running -forth into danger, upon a foolish and jealous surmise, beleeving her -husbands dreames the better for ever after. - - - - -Blondello _(in a merry manner) caused_ Guiotto _to beguile himselfe of a -good dinner: for which deceit,_ Guiotto _became cunningly revenged, by -procuring_ Blondello _to be unreasonably beaten and misused._ - -The Eight Novell. - -_Whereby plainly appeareth, that they which take delight in deceiving -others, do well deserve to be deceived themselves._ - - -It was a generall opinion in the whole Joviall Companie, that -whatsoever _Talano_ saw in his sleepe, was not anie dreame, but rather -a vision: considring, every part thereof fell out so directly, without -the lest failing. But when silence was enjoyned, then the Queene gave -forth by evident demonstration, that Madam _Lauretta_ was next to -succeed, whereupon she thus began. As all they (judicious hearers) -which have this day spoken before me, derived the ground or project -of their Novels, from some other argument spoken of before: even so, -the cruell revendge of the Scholler, yesterday discoursed at large by -Madame _Pampinea_, maketh me to remember another Tale of like nature, -some-what greevous to the sufferer, yet not in such cruell measure -inflicted, as that on Madam _Helena_. - -There dwelt sometime in _Florence_, one who was generally called -by the name of _Guiotto_, a man being the greatest Gourmand, and -grossest feeder, as ever was seene in any Countrey, all his meanes & -procurements meerly unable to maintaine expences for filling his belly. -But otherwise he was of sufficient and commendable carriage, fairely -demeaned, and well discoursing on any argument: yet, not as a curious -and spruce Courtier, but rather a frequenter of rich mens Tables, -where choice of good cheere is sildome wanting, & such should have his -company, albeit not invited, yet (like a bold intruder) he had the -courage to bid himselfe welcome. - -At the same time, and in our City of _Florence_ also, there was another -man, named _Blondello_, very low of stature; yet comly formed, quicke -witted, more neat and brisk then a Butter flye, alwaies wearing a -wrought silke cap on his head, and not a haire staring out of order, -but the tuft flourishing above the forehead, and he such another -trencher-fly for the table, as our forenamed _Guiotto_ was. It so fel -out on a morning in the Lent time, that hee went into the Fish-market, -where he bought two goodly Lampreyes, for _Messer Viero de Cherchi_, -and was espied by _Guiotto_, who (comming to _Blondello_) said. What is -the meaning of this cost, and for whom is it? Whereto _Blondello_ thus -answered. Yesternight, three other Lampries, far fairer and fatter then -these, and a whole Sturgeon, were sent unto _Messer Corso Donati_, and -being not sufficient to feede divers Gentlemen, whom hee hath invited -this day to dine with him, hee caused me to buy these two beside: Doest -not thou intend to make one among them? Yes I warrant thee, replied -_Guiotto_, thou knowst I can invite my selfe thither, without any other -bidding. - -So parting; about the houre of dinner time, _Guiotto_ went to the -house of the saide _Messer Corso_, whom he found sitting and talking -with certain of his neighbours, but dinner was not (as yet) ready, -neither were they come thither to dinner. _Messer Corso_ demaunded of -_Guiotto_, what newes with him, and whither he went? Why Sir (said -_Guiotto_) I come to dine with you, and your good company. Whereto -_Messer Corso_ answered, That he was welcome, & his other friends being -gone, dinner was served in, none els thereat present but _Messer Corso_ -and _Guiotto_: al the diet being a poore dish of Pease, a little piece -of Tunny, & a few small dishes fried, without any other dishes to -follow after. _Guiotto_ seeing no better fare, but being disapointed -of his expectation, as longing to feed on the Lampries and Sturgeon, -and so to have made a full dinner indeed: was of a quick apprehension, -& apparantly perceived, that _Blondello_ had meerly guld him in a -knavery, which did not a little vex him, and made him vow to be revenged -on _Blondello_, as he could compasse occasion afterward. - -Before many daies were past, it was his fortune to meete with -_Blondello_, who having told this jest to divers of his friends, and -much good merriment made thereat: he saluted _Guiotto_ in ceremonious -manner, saying. How didst thou like the fat Lampreyes and Sturgeon, -which thou fedst on at the house of _Messer Corso Donati_? Wel Sir -(answered _Guiotto_) perhaps before eight dayes passe over my head, -thou shalt meet with as pleasing a dinner as I did. So, parting away -from _Blondello_, he met with a Porter or burthen-bearer, such as are -usually sent on errands; and hyring him to deliver a message for him, -gave him a glasse bottle, and bringing him neere to the Hal-house of -_Cavicciuli_, shewed him there a knight, called _Signior Phillippo -Argenti_, a man of huge stature, stout, strong, vainglorious, fierce -and sooner mooved to anger then any other man. To him (quoth _Guiotto_) -thou must go with this bottle in thy hand, and say thus to him. Sir, -_Blondello_ sent me to you, and courteously entreateth you, that you -would enrubinate this glasse bottle with your best Claret Wine; because -he would make merry with a few friends of his. But beware he lay no -hand on thee, because he may bee easily induced to misuse thee, and so -my businesse be disappointed. Well Sir replied the Porter, shall I say -any thing else unto him? No (quoth _Guiotto_) only go and deliver this -message, and when thou art returned, Ile pay thee for thy paines. - -The Porter being gone to the house, delivered his message to the -knight, who being a man of no great civill breeding, but furious, -rash, and inconsiderate: presently conceived, that _Blondello_ (whom -he knew well enough) sent this message in meere mockage of him, and -starting up with fiery lookes, said: What enrubination of Claret -should I send him? and what have I to do with him, or his drunken -friends? Let him and thee go hang your selves together. So he stept to -catch hold on the Porter, but he (being well warnd before) was quicke -and nimble, and escaping from him, returned backe to _Guiotto_ (who -observed all) and told him the answer of Signior _Phillippo. Guiotto_ -not a little contented, paied the Porter, and taried not in any place -till he met with _Blondello_, to whom he said. When wast thou at the -Hall of _Cavicciuli_? Not a long while, answerd _Blondello_, but why -dost thou demand such a question? Because (quoth _Guiotto_) Signior -_Phillippo_ hath sought about for thee, yet knowe not I what he would -have with thee. Is it so? replied _Blondello_, then I will walke thither -presently, to understand his pleasure. - -When _Blondello_ was thus parted from him, _Guiotto_ folowed not -farre off behind him, to behold the issue of this angry businesse; -and Signior _Phillippo_, because he could not catch the Porter, -continued much distempred, fretting and fuming, in regard he could not -comprehend the meaning of the Porters message: but onely surmized, that -_Blondello_ (by the procurement of some body else) had done this in -scorne of him. While he remained thus deeply discontented, he espied -_Blondello_ comming towards him, and meeting him by the way, he stept -close to him, and gave him a cruell blow on the face, causing his nose -to fall out a bleeding. Alas Sir, said _Blondello_, wherefore do you -strike me? Signior _Phillippo_, catching him by the haire of the head, -trampled his wrought night-cap in the dirt, & his cloke also; when, -laying many violent blowes on him, he said. Villanous Traitor as thou -art, Ile teach thee what it is to enrubinate with Claret, either thy -selfe, or any of thy cupping companions: Am I a child, to be jested -withall? - -Nor was he more furious in words, then in strokes also, beating him -about the face, hardly leaving any haire on his head, and dragging him -along in the mire, spoyling all his garments, and he not able (from -the first blow given) to speake a word in defence of himselfe. In the -end, Signior _Phillippo_ having extreamly beaten him, and many people -gathering about them, to succour a man so much misused, the matter was -at large related, and manner of the message sending. For which, they -all present, did greatly reprehend _Blondello_, considering he knew -what kinde of man _Phillippo_ was, not any way to be jested withall. -_Blondello_ in teares constantly maintained, that he never sent any -such message for wine, or intended it in the least degree: so, when the -tempest was more mildly calmed, and _Blondello_ (thus cruelly beaten -and durtied) had gotten home to his owne house, he could then remember, -that (questionles) this was occasioned by _Guiotto_. - -After some few dayes were passed over, and the hurts in his face -indifferently cured; _Blondello_ beginning to walke abroade againe, -chanced to meet with _Guiotto_: who laughing heartily at him, sayde. -Tell me _Blondello_, how doost thou like the enrubinating Clarret of -Signior _Phillippo_? As well (quoth _Blondello_) as thou didst the -Sturgeon and Lampreyes at _Messer Corso Donaties_. Why then (sayde -_Guiotto_) let these two tokens continue familiar betweene thee and -me, when thou wouldst bestow such another dinner on mee, then will I -enrubinate thy nose with a bottle of the same Claret. But _Blondello_ -perceived (to his cost) that hee had met with the worser bargaine, -and _Guiotto_ got cheare, without any blowes: and therefore desired -a peacefull attonement, each of them (alwayes after) abstaining from -flouting one another. - - - - -_Two yong Gentlemen, the one named_ Melisso, _borne in the City of_ -Laiazzo: _and the other_ Giosefo _of_ Antioche, _travailed together -unto_ Salomon, _the famous King of_ Great Britaine. _The one desiring -to learne what he should do, whereby to compasse and winne the love -of men. The other craved to be enstructed, by what meanes hee might -reclaime an headstrong and unruly wife. And what answeres the wise King -gave unto them both, before they departed away from him._ - -The Ninth Novell. - -_Containing an excellent admonition, that such as covet to have the -love of other men, must first learne themselves, how to love: Also, by -what meanes such women as are curst and self-willed, may be reduced to -civill obedience._ - - -Upon the conclusion of Madame _Laurettaes_ Novell, none now remained to -succeede next in order, but onely the Queene her selfe, the priviledge -reserved, granted to _Dioneus_; wherefore, after they had all smiled at -the folly of _Blondello_, with a chearfull countenance thus the Queene -began. - -Honourable Ladies, if with advised judgement, we do duly consider the -order of all things, we shall very easily perceyve, That the whole -universall multiplicitie of Women, by Nature, custome, and lawes, -are & ought to be subject to men, yea, and to be governd by their -discretion. Because every one desiring to enjoy peace, repose and -comfort with them, under whose charge they are; ought to be humble, -patient and obedient, over and beside her spotlesse honesty, which is -the crowne and honour of every good woman. And although those lawes, -which respect the common good of all things, or rather use & custome -(as our wonted saying is) the powers whereof are very great, and worthy -to be referenced, should not make us wise in this case. Yet Nature -hath given us a sufficient demonstration, in creating our bodies more -soft and delicate, yea, and our hearts timorous, fearefull, benigne -and compassionable, our strength feeble, our voyces pleasing, and -the motion of our members sweetly plyant; all which are apparant -testimonies, that wee have neede of others government. - -Now, it is not to be denyed, that whosoever hath need of helpe, and -is to bee governed: meerely reason commandeth, that they should bee -subject and obedient to their governour. Who then should we have for -our helps and governours, if not men? Wherefore, we should be intirely -subject to them, in giving them due honour and reverence, and such -a one as shall depart from this rule: she (in mine opinion) is not -onely worthy of grievous reprehension, but also severe chastisement -beside. And to this exact consideration (over and above divers other -important reasons) I am the rather induced, by the Novel which Madame -_Pampinea_ so lately reported, concerning the froward and wilfull -wife of _Talano_, who had a heavier punishment inflicted on her, then -her Husband could devise to doe. And therefore it is my peremptory -sentence, that all such women as will not be gracious, benigne and -pleasing: doe justly deserve (as I have already said) rude, rough and -harsh handling, as both nature, custome and lawes have commanded. - -To make good what I have said, I will declare unto you the counsell & -advise, given by _Salomon_, the wise and famous King of Great Britaine, -as a most wholesome and soveraigne medicine for the cure of such a -dangerous disease, in any woman so fouly infected. Which counsell -(notwithstanding) all such women as have no need of this Phisicke, I -would not have them to imagine, that it was meant for them, albeit men -have a common Proverbe, to wit. - - _As the good horse and bad horse, doe both need the spurre. - So a good wife and bad wife, a wand will make stirre._ - -Which saying, whosoever doth interpret it in such pleasing manner -as they ought, shall find it (as you al will affirm no lesse) to -be very true: especially in the morall meaning, it is beyond all -contradiction. Women are naturally all unstable, and easily enclining -to misgovernment; wherefore to correct the iniquity of such a -distemperature in them that out-step the tearmes and bounds of -womanhood, a wand hath been allowed for especiall phisicke. As in the -like manner, for support of vertue, in those of contrary condition, -shaming to be sullyed with so grosse a sinne: the correcting Wand may -serve as a walking staffe, to protect them from all other feares. But, -forbearing to teach any longer; let mee proceed to my purpose, and tell -you my Novell. - -In those ancient and reverend dayes, whereof I am now to speake, the -high renowne and admirable wisedome of _Salomon_, King of Great -Brittain, was most famous throughout all parts of the world; for -answering all doubtfull questions and demaunds whatsoever, that -possibly could be propounded to him. So that many resorted to him, from -the most remote and furthest off countreyes, to heare his miraculous -knowledge and experience, yea, and to crave his counsell, in matters of -greatest importance. Among the rest of them which repaired thither, was -a rich yong Gentleman, honourably descended, named _Melisso_, who came -from the City of _Laiazzo_, where he was both borne, and dwelt. - -In his riding towards _France_, as he passed by _Naples_, hee overtooke -another yong Gentleman, a native of _Antioch_, and named _Giosefo_, -whose journey lay the same way as the others did. Having ridden in -company some few dayes together, as it is a custome commonly observed -among Travellers, to understand one anothers Countrey and condition, -as also to what part his occasions call him: so happened it with them, -_Giosefo_ directly telling him, that he journyed towards the wise King -_Salomon_, to desire his advise what meanes he should observe, in the -reclaiming of a wilfull wife, the most froward and selfe-willed woman -that ever lived; whom neither faire perswasions, nor gentle courtesies -could in any manner prevaile withall. Afterward he demaunded of -_Melisso_, to know the occasion of his travell, and whither. - -Now trust me Sir, answered _Melisso_, I am a native of _Laiazzo_, and -as you are vexed with one great misfortune, even so am I offended -with another. I am young, wealthy, well derived by birth, and allow -liberall expences, for maintaining a worthy table in my house, without -distinguishing persons by their rancke and quality, but make it free -for all commers, both of the city, & all places els. Notwithstanding -all which bounty and honourable entertainement, I cannot meet with any -man that loveth me. In which respect, I journey to the same place as -you doe, to crave the counsell of so wise a King, what I should doe, -whereby I might procure men to love me. Thus like two well-met friendly -companions, they rode on together, untill they arrived in Great -Britaine, where, by meanes of the Noble Barons attending on the King; -they were brought before him. _Melisso_ delivered his minde in very -few words, whereto the King made no other answere, but this: Learne to -love. Which was no sooner spoken, but _Melisso_ was dismissed from the -Kings presence. - -_Giosefo_ also relating, wherefore he came thither; the King replyed -onely thus; Goe to the Goose Bridge: and presently _Giosefo_ had -also his dismission from the King. Comming forth, he found _Melisso_ -attending for him, and revealed in what manner the King had answered -him: whereupon, they consulted together, concerning both their -answeres, which seemed either to exceed their comprehension, or else -was delivered them in meere mockery, and therefore (more then halfe -discontented) they returned homeward againe. - -After they had ridden on a few dayes together, they came to a River, -over which was a goodly Bridge, and because a great company of Horses -and Mules (heavily laden, and after the manner of a _Caravan_ of Camels -in _Egypt_) were first to passe over the saide Bridge; they gladly -stayed to permit their passe. The greater number of them being already -past over, there was one shie and skittish Mule (belike subject to -fearefull starting, as oftentimes we see horses have the like ill -quality) that would not passe over the Bridge by any meanes, wherefore -one of the Muletters tooke a good Cudgell, and smote her at the first -gently, as hoping so to procure her passage. Notwithstanding, starting -one while backeward, then againe forward, side-wayes, and every way -indeed, but the direct Road way she would not goe. - -Now grew the Muletter extreamely angry, giving her many cruell -stroakes, on the head, sides, flancks and all parts else, but yet they -proved to no purpose, which _Melisso_ and _Giosefo_ seeing, and being -(by this meanes) hindred of their passage, they called to the Muletter, -saying. Foolish fellow, what doest thou? Intendest thou to kill the -Mule? why dost thou not leade her gently, which is the likelier course -to prevaile by, then beating and misusing her as thou dost? Content -your selves Gentlemen (answered the Muletter) you know your horses -qualities, as I doe my Mules, let mee deale with her as I please. -Having thus spoken, he gave her so many violent strokes, on head, -sides, hippes, and every where else, as made her at last passe over the -Bridge quietly, so that the Muletter wonne the Mastery of his Mule. - -When _Melisso_ and _Giosefo_ had past over the Bridge, where they -intended to part each from other; a sudden motion happened into the -minde of _Melisso_, which caused him to demaund of an aged man (who -sate craving almes of Passengers at the Bridge foot) how the Bridge was -called: Sir, answered the old man, this is called, The Goose Bridge. -Which words when _Giosefo_ heard, hee called to minde the saying of -King _Salomon_, and therefore immediately saide to _Melisso_. Worthy -friend, and partner in my travell, I dare now assure you, that the -counsell given me by King _Salomon_, may fall out most effectuall -and true: For I plainely perceive, that I knew not how to handle my -selfe-will'd-wife, untill the Muletter did instruct me. So, requesting -still to enjoy the others Company, they journeyed on, till at the -length they came to _Laiazzo_, where _Giosefo_ retained _Melisso_ still -with him, for some repose after so long a journey, and entertained him -with very honourable respect and courtesie. - -One day _Giosefo_ said to his Wife: Woman, this Gentleman is my -intimate friend, and hath borne me company in all my travell: such dyet -therefore as thou wilt welcome him withall, I would have it ordered -(in dressing) according to his direction. _Melisso_ perceiving that -_Giosefo_ would needs have it to be so; in few words directed her such -a course, as (for ever) might be to her Husbands contentment. But -she, not altring a jote from her former disposition, but rather farre -more froward and tempestuous: delighted to vexe and crosse him, doing -every thing, quite contrary to the order appointed. Which _Giosefo_ -observing, angerly he said unto her. Was it not tolde you by my friend, -in what manner he would have our Supper drest? She turning fiercely -to him, replyed. Am I to be directed by him or thee? Supper must and -shall bee drest as I will have it: if it pleaseth mee, I care not who -doth dislike it; if thou wouldst have it otherwise, goe seeke both your -Suppers where you may have it. - -_Melisso_ marvelling at her froward answere, rebuked her for it in very -kind manner: whereupon, _Giosefo_ spake thus to her. I perceive wife, -you are the same woman as you were wount to be: but beleeve me on my -word, I shall quite alter you from this curst complexion. So turning -to _Melisso_, thus he proceeded. Noble friend, we shall try anone, -whether the counsell of King _Salomon_ bee effectuall, or no; and I -pray you, let it not be offensive to you to see it; but rather hold all -to be done in merriment. And because I would not be hindered by you, -doe but remember the answere which the Muletter gave us, when we tooke -compassion on his Mule. Worthy friend, replyed _Melisso_, I am in your -owne house, where I purpose not to impeach whatsoever you doe. - -_Giosefo_, having provided a good Holly-wand, went into the Chamber, -where his wife sate railing, and despitefully grumbling, where taking -her by the haire of her head, he threw her at his feete, beating her -entreamely with the wand. She crying, then cursing, next railing, -lastly fighting, biting and scratching, when she felt the cruell smart -of the blowes, and that all her resistance served to no end: then she -fell on her knees before him, and desired mercy for charities sake. -_Giosefo_ fought still more and more on head, armes, shoulders, sides, -and all parts else, pretending as if he heard not her complaints, but -wearied himselfe wel neere out of breath: so that (to be briefe) she -that never felt his fingers before, perceived and confessed, it was now -too soone. This being done, hee returned to _Melisso_, and said: To -morrow we shall see a miracle, and how availeable the councell is of -going to the Goose Bridge. So sitting a while together, after they had -washed their hands, and supt, they withdrew to their lodgings. - -The poore beaten woman, could hardly raise her selfe from the ground, -which yet (with much adoe) she did, and threw her selfe upon the bed, -where she tooke such rest as she could: but arising early the next -morning, she came to her Husband, and making him a very low courtesie, -demaunded what hee pleased to have for his dinner; he smiling heartely -thereat, with _Melisso_, tolde her his mind. And when dinner time -came, every thing was ready according to the direction given: in which -regard, they highly commended the counsell, whereof they made such an -harsh construction at the first. - -Within a while after, _Melisso_ being gone from _Giosefo_, and returned -home to his owne house: hee acquainted a wise and reverend man, with -the answere which king _Salomon_ gave him, whereto hee received this -reply. No better or truer advise could possibly be given you, for well -you know, that you love not any man; but the bountiful banquets you -bestow on them, is more in respect of your owne vaine-glory, then any -kind affection you beare to them: Learne then to love men, as _Salomon_ -advised, and you shall be beloved of them againe. Thus our unruly Wife -became mildely reclaimed, and the yong Gentleman, by loving others, -found the fruits of reciprocall affection. - - - - -John de Barolo, _at the instance and request of his Gossip_ Pietro -da Trefanti, _made an enchantment, to have his wife become a Mule. -And when it came to the fastening on of the taile; Gossip_ Pietro _by -saying she should have no taile at all, spoyled the whole enchantment._ - -The Tenth Novell. - -_In just reproofe of such foolish men, as will be governed by -over-light beleefe._ - - -This Novell reported by the Queene, caused a little murmuring among the -Ladies, albeit the men laughed heartely thereat: but after they were -all growne silent, _Dioneus_ began in this manner. Gracious Beauties, -among many white Doves, one blacke Crow will seeme more sightly, then -the very whitest Swanne can doe. In like manner, among a multitude of -wise men, sometimes one of much lesse wisedome and discretion, shall -not onely increase the splendour and Majestie of their maturity, but -also give an addition of delight and solace. - -In which regard, you all being modest and discreet Ladies, and my -selfe more much defective in braine, then otherwise able: in making -your vertues shine gloriously, through the evident apparance of mine -owne weakenesse, you should esteeme the better of mee, by how much I -seeme the more cloudy and obscure. And consequently, I ought to have -the larger scope of liberty, by plainely expressing what I am, and -be the more patiently endured by you all, in saying what absurdly I -shall; then I should be if my speeches favoured of absolute wisdome. -I will therefore tell you a Tale, which shall not be of any great -length, whereby you may comprehend, how carefully such things should -be observed, which are commanded by them, as can effect matters by the -power of enchantment, and how little delayance also ought to be in -such, as would not have an enchantment so be hindered. - -About a yeare already past since, there dwelt at _Barletta_, an honest -man, called _John de Barolo_, who because he was of poore condition; -for maintenance in his contented estate, provided himselfe of a Mule, -to carry commodities from place to place, where Faires and Markets were -in request, but most especially to _Apuglia_, buying and selling in the -nature of a petty Chapman. Travelling thus thorow the Countreyes, he -grew into great and familiar acquaintance, with one who named himselfe -_Pietro da Trefanti_, following the same Trade of life as he did, -carrying his commodities upon an Asse. In signe of amitie, according -to the Countreyes custome, he never tearmed him otherwise, then by -the name of Gossip _Pietro_ and alwayes when he came to _Barletta_, -he brought him to his own house, taking it as his Inne, entreating -him very friendly, and in the best manner he could devise to doe. -On the other side, Gossip _Pietro_ being very poore, having but one -simple habitation in the village of _Trefanti_, hardly sufficient for -him, and an handsome young woman which he had to his wife, as also -his Asse: evermore when _John de Barolo_ came to _Trefanti_, he would -bring him to his poore abiding, with all his uttermost abilitie of -entertainement, in due acknowledgement of the courtesie he afforded to -him at _Barletta_. But when he came to take repose in the night-season, -Gossip _Pietro_ could not lodge him as gladly he would: because he had -but one silly bed, wherein himselfe and his wife lay; so that _John de -Barolo_ was faigne to lie on a little straw, in a small stable, close -adjoyning by his owne Mule and the Asse. - -The woman understanding, what good and honest welcome, Gossip -_John_ afforded her husband, when he came to _Barletta_, was often -very willing to goe lodge with an honest neighbour of hers, called -_Carapresa di Giudice Leo_, because the two Gossips might both lie -together in one bed; wherewith divers times she acquainted her Husband, -but by no meanes he would admit it. - -At one time among the rest, as she was making the same motion againe to -her Husband, that his friend might be lodged in better manner: Gossip -_John_ thus spake to her. Good _Zita Carapresa_, never molest your -selfe for me, because I lodge to mine owne contentment, and so much the -rather, in regard that whensoever I list: I can convert my Mule into a -faire young woman, to give mee much delight in the night-season, and -afterward make her a Mule againe: thus am I never without her company. - -The young woman wondring at these words, and beleeving he did not fable -in them: she told them to her Husband, with this addition beside, -_Pietro_ (quoth she) if he be such a deare friend to thee, as thou hast -often avouched to me; with him to instruct thee in so rare a cunning, -that thou maist make a Mule of me; then shalt thou have both an Asse -and a Mule to travell withall about thy businesse, whereby thy benefit -will be double: and when we returne home to our house; then thou maist -make mee thy wife againe, in the same condition as I was before. Gossip -_Pietro_, who was (indeed) but a very Coxecombe; beleeved also the -words to be true, yeelding therefore the more gladly to her advise; and -moving the matter to his Gossip _John_, to teach him such a wonderfull -secret, which would redound so greatly to his benefit: but _John_ -began to disswade him from it, as having spoken it in merriment, yet -perceiving, that no contradiction would serve to prevaile, thus he -began. - -Seeing you will needs have it so, let us rise to morrow morning before -day, as in our travell we use to doe, and then I will shew you how it -is to be done: onely I must and doe confesse, that the most difficult -thing of all the rest, is, to fasten on the taile, as thou shalt see. - -Gossip _Pietro_ and his wife, could hardly take any rest all the night -long, so desirous they were to have the deed done; and therefore when -it drew towards day, up they arose, and calling Gossip _John_, he came -presently to them in his shirt, & being in the Chamber with them, he -said. I know not any man in the world, to whom I would disclose this -secret, but to you, and therefore because you so earnestly desire -it, I am the more willing to doe it. Onely you must consent, to doe -whatsoever I say, if you are desirous to have it done. Faithfully they -promised to performe all, whereupon _John_ delivering a lighted Candle -to Gossip _Pietro_, to hold in his hand, said. Marke well what I doe, -and remember all the words I say: but be very carefull, that whatsoever -thou hearest or seest, thou doe not speake one word, for then the -enchantment will be utterly overthrowne, onely wish that the taile may -be well set on, for therein consisteth all the cunning. - -Gossip _Pietro_ holding the Candle, and the woman being prepared as -_John_ had appointed her, she bowed her selfe forwardes with her hands -set to the ground, even as if she stood upon foure feete. First with -his hands he touched her head and face, saying, Heere is the goodly -head of a Mule: then handling her disheveld haire, termed them the -goodly mane of a Mule. Afterwardes, touching the body, armes, legs, -and feete, gave them all the apt names (for those parts) belonging to -a Mule, nothing else remaining, but onely the forming of the taile, -which when _Pietro_ perceived, how _John_ was preparing to fasten it -on (having no way misliked all his former proceeding) he called to -him, saying: Forbeare Gossippe _John_, my Mule shall have no taile -at all, I am contented to have her without a taile. How now Gossip -_Pietro_? answered _John_, What hast thou done? Thou hast mard all by -this unadvised speaking, even when the worke was almost fully finished. -It is no matter Gossip (answered _Pietro_) I can like my Mule better -without a taile, then to see it set on in such manner. - -The fond yong woman, more covetously addicted to gayne and commodity, -then looking into the knavish intention of her Gossip _John_; began to -grow greatly offended. Beast as thou art (quoth she to her Husband) why -hast thou overthrowne both thine own good Fortune and mine? Diddest -thou ever see a Mule without a taile? Wouldst thou have had him made -me a monster? Thou art wretchedly poore, and when we might have bin -enriched for ever, by a secret knowne to none but our selves, thou -art the Asse that hast defeated all, and made thy friend to become -thine enemy. Gossippe _John_ began to pacifie the woman, with solemne -protestations of his still continuing friendship, albeit (afterwards) -there was no further desiring of any more Mule-making: but Gossip -_Pietro_ fel to his former Trading onely with his Asse, as he was no -lesse himselfe, and hee went no more with Gossip _John_ to the Faires -in _Apuglia_, neyther did he ever request, to have the like peece of -service done for him. - - * * * * * - -Although there was much laughing at this Novell, the Ladies -understanding it better, then _Dioneus_ intended that they should have -done, yet himselfe scarsely smiled. But the Novels being all ended, and -the Sunne beginning to loose his heate; the Queene also knowing, that -the full period of her government was come: dispossessing her selfe of -the Crowne, shee placed it on the head of _Pamphilus_, who was the last -of all to be honoured with this dignity; wherefore (with a gracious -smile) thus she spake to him. - -Sir, it is no meane charge which you are to undergo, in making amends -(perhaps) for all the faults committed by my selfe and the rest, -who have gone before you in the same authority; and, may it prove -as prosperous unto you, as I was willing to create you our King. -_Pamphilus_ having received the Honour with a chearfull mind, thus -answered. Madam, your sacred vertues, and those (beside) remaining in -my other Subjects, will (no doubt) worke so effectually for me, that -(as the rest have done) I shall deserve your generall good opinion. -And having given order to the Master of the Houshold (as all his -predecessors had formerly done, for every necessary occasion) he turned -to the Ladies, who expected his gracious favour, and said. - -Bright Beauties, it was the discretion of your late Soveraigne & -Queene, in regard of ease and recreation unto your tyred spirits, to -grant you free liberty, for discoursing on whatsoever your selves -best pleased: wherefore, having enjoyed such a time of rest, I am -of opinion, that it is best to returne once more to our wonted Law, -in which respect, I would have every one to speake in this manner -to morrow. Namely, of those men or women, who have done any thing -bountifully or magnificently, either in matter of amity, or otherwise. -The relation of such worthy arguments, will (doubtlesse) give an -addition to our very best desires, for a free and forward inclination -to good actions, whereby our lives (how short soever they bee) may -perpetuate an ever-living renowne and fame, after our mortall bodies -are converted into dust, which (otherwise) are no better then those of -bruite beasts, reason onely distinguishing this difference, that as -they live to perish utterly, so we respire to reigne in eternity. - -The Theame was exceedingly pleasing to the whole Company; who being all -risen, by permission of the new King, every one fel to their wonted -recreations, as best agreed with their owne disposition; untill the -houre for Supper came, wherein they were served very sumptuously. But -being risen from the Table, they began their dances, among which, -many sweet Sonnets were enterlaced, with such delicate Tunes as moved -admiration. Then the King commanded Madam _Neiphila_, to sing a song in -his name, or how her selfe stood best affected. And immediatly with a -cleare and rare voice, thus she began. - - _THE SONG._ - - The Chorus sung by all the Companie. - - _In the Spring season, - Maides have best reason, - To dance and sing; - With Chaplets of Flowers, - To decke up their Bowers, - And all in honour of the Spring._ - - _I heard a Nimph that sate alone, - By a Fountaines side: - Much her hard Fortune to bemone, - For still she cride: - Ah! Who will pitty her distresse, - That findes no foe like ficklenesse? - For truth lives not in men: - Poore soule, why live I then? - In the Spring season, &c._ - - _Oh, How can mighty Love permit, - Such a faithlesse deed, - And not in justice punish it - As treasons meed? - I am undone through perjury, - Although I loved constantly: - But truth lives not in men, - Poore soule, why live I then? - In the Spring season,&c._ - - _When I did follow Dyans traine, - As a loyall Maide, - I never felt oppressing paine, - Nor was dismaide. - But when I listened Loves alluring, - Then I wandred from assuring. - For truth lives not in men: - Poore soule, why live I then? - In the Spring season, &c._ - - _Adiew to all my former joyes, - When I lived at ease, - And welcome now those sad annoies - Which do most displease. - And let none pitty her distresse, - That fell not, but by ficklenesse. - For truth lives not in men, - Alas! why live I then?_ - - _In the Spring season, - Maides have best reason, - To dance and sing; - With Chaplets of Flowers, - To decke up their Bowers, - And all in honour of the Spring._ - -This Song, most sweetly sung by Madame _Neiphila_, was especially -commended, both by the King, & all the rest of the Ladies. Which being -fully finished, the King gave order, that everie one should repaire to -their Chambers, because a great part of the night was already spent. - -_The end of the Ninth Day._ - - - - -The Tenth and last Day. - -_Whereon, under the government of Pamphilus, the severall Arguments -do concerne such persons, as either by way of Liberality, or in -Magnificent manner, performed any worthy action, for love, favour, -friendship, or any other honourable occasion._ - - -The Induction. - - -Already began certaine small Clouds in the West, to blush with a -Vermillion tincture, when those in the East (having reached to their -full heighth) looked like bright burnished Gold, by splendour of the -Sun beames drawing neere unto them: when _Pamphilus_ being risen, -caused the Ladies, and the rest of his honourable companions to be -called. When they were all assembled, and had concluded together on -the place, whither they should walke for their mornings recreation: -the King ledde on the way before, accompanied with the two Noble -Ladies _Philomena_ and _Fiammetta_, all the rest following after them, -devising, talking, and answering to divers demands both what that day -was to be don, as also concerning the proposed imposition. - -After they had walked an indifferent space of time, and found the rayes -of the Sunne to be over-piercing for them: they returned backe againe -to the Pallace, as fearing to have their blood immoderately heated. -Then rinsing their Glasses in the coole cleare running current, each -tooke their mornings draught, & then walked into the milde shades -about the Garden, untill they should bee summoned to dinner. Which -was no sooner over-past, and such as slept, returned waking: they -mette together againe in their wonted place, according as the King -had appointed, where he gave command unto Madame _Neiphila_, that -shee should (for that day) begin the first Novell, which she humbly -accepting, thus began. - - - - -_A Florentine knight, named Signior_ Rogiero de Figiovanni, _became -a servant to_ Alphonso, _King of_ Spaine, _who (in his owne opinion) -seemed but sleightly to respect and reward him. In regard whereof, by a -notable experiment, the King gave him a manifest testimony, that it was -not through any defect in him, but onely occasioned by the Knights ill -fortune; most bountifully recompensing him afterward._ - -The First Novell. - -_Wherein may evidently be discerned, that Servants to Princes and great -Lords, are many times recompenced, rather by their good fortune, then -in any regard of their dutifull services._ - - -I doe accept it (Worthy Ladies) as no mean favour, that the King hath -given me the first place, to speake of such an honourable Argument, as -Bounty and Magnificence is, which precious Jewell, even as the Sunne is -the beauty, or ornament and bright glory of al heaven; so is bounty and -magnificence the Crowne of all vertues. I shall then recount to you a -short Novell, sufficiently pleasing, in mine owne opinion, and I hope -(so much I dare rely on your judgements) both profitable, and worthy to -be remembred. - -You are to know then, that among other valiant Knights, which of long -have lived in our City, one of them, and (perhappes) of as great -merit as any, was one, named Signior _Rogiero d'Figiovanni_. He being -rich, of great courage, and perceiving, that (in due consideration) -the quality belonging to life, and the customes observed among our -_Tuscanes_, were not answerable to his expectation, nor agreed with the -disposition of his valour; determined to leave his native Countrey, -and belong in service (for some time) to _Alfonso_, King of _Spaine_, -whose fame was generally noised in all places, for excelling all -other Princes in those times, for respect of mens well deservings, -and bountifull requitall of their paines. Being provided in honorable -order, both of Horses, Armes, & a competent train, he travelled to -_Spaine_, where he was worthily entertained. - -Signior _Rogiero_ continuing there, living in honorable manner, and -performing many admirable actions of arms; in short time he made -himselfe sufficiently knowne, for a very valiant and famous man. And -having remained there an indifferent long while, observing divers -behaviours in the king: he saw, how he enclined himselfe first to one -man, then to another, bestowing on one a Castle, a Towne on another, -and Baronnies on divers, some-what indiscreetly, as giving away -bountifully to men of no merit. And restraining all his favors from -him, as seeming close fisted, and parting with nothing: he took it as -a diminishing of his former reputation, and a great empayring of his -fame, wherefore he resolved on his departure thence, & made his suit to -the king that he might obtaine it. The king did grant it, bestowing on -him one of the very best Mules, and the goodliest that ever was backt, -a gift most highly pleasing to _Rogiero_, in regarde of the long journy -he intended to ride. Which being deliverd, the king gave charge to one -of his Gentlemen, to compasse such convenient meanes, as to ride thorow -the country, and in the company of Signior _Rogiero_, yet in such -manner, as he should not perceive, that the King had purposely sent him -so to do. Respectively he should observe whatsoever he said concerning -the king, his gesture, smiles, and other behavior, shaping his answers -accordingly, and on the nexte morning to command his returne backe with -him to the King. - -Nor was the Gentleman slacke in this command, but noting _Rogieroes_ -departing forth of the city, he mounted on horseback likewise, and -immediatly after came into his company, making him beleeve, that he -journied towards _Italy. Rogiero_ rode on the Mule which the king had -given him, with diversity of speeches passing between them. About three -of the clocke in the afternoone, the Gentleman said. It were not -amisse Sir, (having such fit opportunitie) to Stable our horses for a -while, till the heate be a little more overpast. So taking an Inne, and -the horses being in the stable, they all staled except the Mule. - -Being mounted againe, and riding on further, the Gentleman duely -observed whatsoever _Rogiero_ spake, and comming to the passage of a -small River or Brooke: the rest of the beasts dranke, and not the Mule, -but staled in the River: which Signior _Rogiero_ seeing, clapping his -hands on the Mules mane, hee said. What a wicked beast art thou? thou -art just like thy Master that gave thee to mee. The Gentleman committed -the words to memory, as he did many other passing from _Rogiero_, -riding along the rest of the day, yet none in disparagement of the -King, but rather highly in his commendation. And being the next morning -mounted on horseback, seeming to hold on still the way for _Tuscane_: -the Gentleman fulfilled the Kings command, causing Signior _Rogiero_ to -turne back againe with him, which willingly he yeelded to doe. - -When they were come to the Court, and the King made acquainted with -the words, which _Rogiero_ spake to his Mule; he was called into the -presence, where the King shewed him a gracious countenance, & demanded -of him, why he had compared him to his Mule? Signior _Rogiero_ nothing -daunted, but with a bold and constant spirit, thus answered. Sir, I -made the comparison, because, like as you give, where there is no -conveniency, and bestow nothing where reason requireth: even so, the -Mule would not stale where she should have done, but where was water -too much before, there she did it. Beleeve me Signior _Rogiero_, -replyed the King, if I have not given you such gifts, as (perhaps) I -have done to divers other, farre inferiour to you in honour and merit; -this happened not thorough any ignorance in me, as not knowing you to -be a most valiant Knight, and well-worthy of speciall respect: but -rather through your owne ill fortune, which would not suffer me to -doe it, whereof she is guilty, and not I, as the truth thereof shall -make it selfe apparent to you. Sir, answered _Rogiero_, I complaine -not, because I have received no gift from you, as desiring thereby -covetously to become the richer: but in regard you have not as yet any -way acknowledged, what vertue is remaining in me. Neverthelesse, I -allow your excuse for good and reasonable, and am heartely contented, -to behold whatsoever you please; although I doe confidently credit you, -without any other testimony. - -The King conducted him then into the great Hall, where (as hee had -before given order) stood two great Chests, fast lockt; & in the -presence of all his Lords, the King thus spake. Signior _Rogiero_, -in out of these Chests is mine imperiall Crowne, the Scepter Royall, -the Mound, & many more of my richest girdles, rings, plate, & Jewels, -even the very best that are mine: the other is full of earth onely. -Chuse one of these two, and which thou makest election of; upon my -Royall word thou shalt enjoy it. Hereby shalt thou evidently perceive, -who hath bin ingreatful to the deservings, either I, or thine owne -bad fortune. _Rogiero_ seeing it was the kings pleasure to have it -so; chose one of them, which the King caused presently to be opened, -it approving to be the same that was full of earth, whereat the King -smyling, said thus unto him. - -You see Signior _Rogiero_, that what I said concerning your ill -fortune, is very true: but questionlesse, your valour is of such -desert, as I ought to oppose my selfe against all her malevolence. And -because I know right, that you are not minded to become a Spaniard; -I will give you neither Castle nor dwelling place: but I will bestow -the Chest on you (in meer despight of your malicious fortune) which -she so unjustly tooke away from you. Carry it home with you into your -Countrey, that there it may make an apparant testimoney, in the sight -of all your well-willers, both of your owne vertuous deservings, and my -bounty. Signior _Rogiero_ humbly receiving the Chest, and thanking his -Majestie for so liberall a gift, returned home joyfully therewith, into -his native Countrey of _Tuscane_. - - - - -Ghinotto di Tacco; _tooke the Lord Abbot of_ Clugni _as his prisoner, -and cured him of a grievous disease, which he had in his stomacke, and -afterward set him at liberty. The same Lord Abbot, when hee returned -from the Court of Rome, reconciled_ Ghinotto _to Pope_ Boniface; _who -made him a Knight, and Lord Prior of a goodly Hospitall._ - -The second Novell. - -_Wherein is declared that good men doe sometimes fall into bad -conditions, onely occasioned thereto by necessity: And what meanes are -to be used, for their reducing to goodnesse againe._ - - -The magnificence and Royall bounty, which King _Alphonso_ bestowed on -the Florentine knight, passed through the whole assembly with no mean -applause; & the King (who gave it the greatest praise of al) commanded -Madame _Eliza_, to take the second turne in order; whereupon, thus she -began. - -Faire Ladies, if a king shewed himselfe magnificently minded, and -expressed his liberall bounty to such a man, as had done him good and -honourable services: it can be termed no more then a vertuous deed well -done, and becomming a King. But what will we say, when we heare that -a Prelate of the Church, shewed himselfe wondrously magnificent, and -to such a one as was his enemy: can any malicious tongue speake ill -of him? Undoubtedly, no other answere is to be made, but the action of -the King was meerely vertue, and that of the Prelate, no lesse then -a miracle: for how can it be otherwise, when they are more greedily -covetous then women, and deadly enemies to all liberality? And although -every man (naturally) desireth revenge for injuries and abuses done -unto him: yet men of the Church, in regard that dayly they preached -patience, and commaund (above all things else) remission of sinnes: it -would appeare a mighty blemish in them, to be more froward and furious -then other men. But I am to speake of a reverend Prelate of the Church, -as also concerning his munificent bounty, to one that was his enemy, -and yet became his reconciled friend, as you shall perceive by my -Novell. - -_Ghinotto di Tacco_, for his insolent and stout robberies, became a man -very farre famed, who being banished from _Sienna_, and an enemy to -the Countes _Disanta Fiore_: prevailed so by his bold and headstrong -perswasions, that the Towne of _Raticonfani_ rebelled against the -Church of Rome, wherein he remaining; all passengers whatsoever, -travelling any way thereabout, were robde and rifled by his theeving -Companions. At the time whereof now I speake, _Boniface_ the eight, -governed as Pope at Rome, and the Lord Abbot of _Clugni_ (accounted to -be one of the richest Prelates in the world) came to Rome, and there -either by some surfeit, excesse of feeding, or otherwise, his stomacke -being grievously offended and pained; the Phisitians advised him, to -travell to the Bathes at _Sienna_, where he should receive immediate -cure. In which respect, his departure being licenced by the Pope, -to set onward thither, with great and pompous Cariages, of Horses, -Mules, and a goodly traine, without hearing any rumour of the theevish -Consorts. - -_Ghinotto di Tacco_, being advertised of his comming, spred about -his scouts and nettes, and without missing so much as one Page, shut -up the Abbot, with all his traine and baggage, in a place of narrow -restraint, out of which he could by no meanes escape. When this was -done, he sent one of his most sufficient attendants, (well accompanyed) -to the Lord Abbot, who said to him in his Masters name, that if his -Lordship were so pleased, hee might come and visite _Ghinotto_ at his -Castle. Which the Abbot hearing, answered chollerickly, that he would -not come thither, because hee had nothing to say to _Ghinotto_: but -meant to proceed on in his journy, and would faine see, who durst -presume to hinder his passe. To which rough words, the messenger thus -mildely answered. My Lord (quoth he) you are arrived in such a place, -where we feare no other force, but the all-controlling power of heaven, -clearely exempted from the Popes thunder-cracks, of maledictions, -interdictions, excommunications, or whatsoever else: and therefore -it would bee much better for you, if you pleased to do as _Ghinotto_ -adviseth you. - -During the time of this their interparlance, the place was suddenly -round ingirt with strongly armed theeves, and the Lord Abbot -perceiving, that both he and all his followers were surprized: tooke -his way (though very impatiently) towards the Castle, and likewise all -his company and carriages with him. Being dismounted, hee was conducted -(as _Ghinotto_ had appointed) all alone, into a small Chamber of the -Castle, it being very darke and uneasie: but the rest of his traine, -every one according to his ranck and quality, were all well lodged -in the Castle, their horses, goods and all things else, delivered -into secure keeping, without the least touch of injury or prejudice. -All which being orderly done, _Ghinotto_ himselfe went to the Lord -Abbot, and said. My Lord, _Ghinotto_, to whom you are a welcome guest, -requesteth, that it might be your pleasure to tell him, whither you are -travelling, and upon what occasion? - -The Lord Abbot being a very wise man, and his angry distemper more -moderately qualified; revealed whither he went, and the cause of -his going thither. Which when _Ghinotto_ had heard, hee departed -courteously from him, and began to consider with himselfe, how he might -cure the Abbot; yet without any Bathe. So, commanding a good fire to be -kept continually in his small Chamber, and very good attendance on him: -the next morning, he came to visite him againe, bringing a faire white -Napkin on his arme, and in it two slices or toasts of fine Manchet, a -goodly cleare Glasse, full of the purest white-Bastard of _Corniglia_ -(but indeed, of the Abbots owne provision brought thither with him) and -then hee spoke to him in this manner. - -My Lord, when _Ghinotto_ was yonger then now he is, he studyed -Physicke, and he commanded me to tell you, that the very best medicine, -he could ever learne, against any disease in the stomacke, was this -which he had provided for your Lordship, as an especial preparative, -and which he should finde to be very comfortable. The Abbot, who had -a better stomacke to eate, then any will or desire to talke: although -hee did it somewhat disdainfully, yet hee eate up both the toastes, -and roundly dranke off the Glasse of Bastard. Afterward, divers other -speeches passed betweene them, the one still advising in Phisicall -manner, and the other seeming to care little for it: but moved many -questions concerning _Ghinotto_, and earnestly requesting to see him. -Such speeches as favoured of the Abbots discontentment, and came from -him in passion; were clouded with courteous acceptance, & not the least -signe of any mislike: but assuring his Lordship, that _Ghinotto_ -intended very shortly to see him, and so they parted for that time. - -Nor returned he any more, till the next morning with the like two -toastes of bread, and such another Glasse of white Bastard, as he had -brought him at the first, continuing the same course for divers dayes -after: till the Abbot had eaten (and very hungerly too) a pretty store -of dryed Beanes, which _Ghinotto_ purposely, (yet secretly) had hidden -in the Chamber. Whereupon he demaunded of him (as seeming to be so -enjoyned by his pretended master) in what temper he found his stomacke -now? I should finde my stomacke well enough (answered the Lord Abbot) -if I could get forth of thy masters fingers, and then have some good -food to feed on: for his medicines have made me so soundly stomackt, -that I am ready to starve with hunger. - -When _Ghinotto_ was gone from him, hee then prepared a very faire -Chamber for him, adorning it with the Abbots owne rich hangings, as -also his Plate and other moveables, such as were alwayes used for his -service. A costly dinner he provided likewise, whereto he invited -divers of the Towne, and many of the Abbots chiefest followers: then -going to him againe the next morning, he said. My Lord, seeing you doe -feele your stomacke so well, it is time you should come forth of the -Infirmary. And taking him by the hand, he brought him into the prepared -Chamber, where he left him with his owne people, and went to give order -for the dinners serving in, that it might be performed in magnificent -manner. - -The Lord Abbot recreated himselfe a while with his owne people, -to whom he recounted, the course of his life since hee saw them; -and they likewise told him, how kindly they had bin initeated by -_Ghinotto_. But when dinner time was come, the Lord Abbot and all his -company, were served with Costly viands and excellent Wines, without -_Ghinottoes_ making himselfe knowne to the Abbot: till after he had -beene entertained some few dayes in this order: into the great Hall of -the Castle, _Ghinotto_ caused all the Abbots goods and furniture to bee -brought, and likewise into a spacious Court, whereon the windowes of the -said Court gazed, all his mules and horses, with their sumpters, even -to the very silliest of them, which being done, _Ghinotto_ went to the -Abbot, and demaunded of him, how he felt his stomacke now, and whether -it would serve him to venter on horsebacke as yet, or no? The Lord -Abbot answered, that he found his stomacke perfectly recovered, his -body strong enough to endure travell, and all things well, so hee were -delivered from _Ghinotto_. - -Hereupon, he brought him into the hall where his furniture was, as -also all his people, & commanding a window to be opned, whereat he -might behold his horses, he said. My Lord, let me plainely give you -to understand, that neither cowardise, or basenesse of minde, induced -_Ghinotto di Tacco_ (which is my selfe) to become a lurking robber on -the high-wayes, an enemy to the Pope, and so (consequently) to the -Romane Court: but onely to save his owne life and honour, knowing -himselfe to be a Gentleman cast out of his owne house, and having -(beside) infinite enemies. But because you seeme to be a worthy Lord, -I will not (although I have cured your stomacks disease) deale with -you as I doe to others, whose goods (when they fall into my power) -I take such part of as I please: but rather am well contented, that -my necessities being considered by your selfe, you spare me out a -proportion of the things you have heere, answerable to your owne -liking. For all are present here before you, both in this Hall, and -in the Court beneath, free from any spoyle, or the least impairing. -Wherefore, give a part, or take all, if you please, and then depart -hence when you will, or abide heere still, for now you are at your owne -free liberty. - -The Lord Abbot wondred not a little, that a robber on the high wayes, -should have such a bold and liberall spirit, which appeared very -pleasing to him; and instantly, his former hatred and spleene against -_Ghinotto_, became converted into cordiall love and kindnes, so that -(imbracing him in his armes) he said. I protest upon my vow made to -Religion, that to win the love of such a man, as I plainely perceive -thee to be: I would undergo far greater injuries, then those which I -have received at thy hands. Accursed be cruell destiny, that forced -thee to so base a kind of life, and did not blesse thee with a fairer -fortune. After he had thus spoken, he left there the greater part of -all his goods, and returned back againe to Rome, with fewer horses, and -a meaner traine. - -During these passed accidents, the Pope had received intelligence of -the Lord Abbots surprizall, which was not a little displeasing to him: -but when he saw him returned, he demaunded, what benefit he received -at the Bathes? Whereto the Abbot, merrily smyling, thus replyed. -Holy Father, I met with a most skilfull Physitian neerer hand, whose -experience is beyond the power of the Bathes, for by him I am very -perfectly cured: and so discoursed all at large. The Pope laughing -heartely, and the Abbot continuing on still his report, moved with an -high and magnificent courage, he demaunded one gracious favour of the -Pope: who imagining that he would request a matter of greater moment, -then he did, freely offered to grant, whatsoever he desired. - -Holy Father, answered the Lord Abbot, all the humble suit which I -make to you, is, that you would be pleased to receive into your grace -and favor, _Ghinotto di Tacco_ my Physitian, because among all the -vertuous men, deserving to have especial account made of them I never -met with any equall to him both in honour and honesty. Whatsoever -injury he did to me, I impute it as a greater in-fortune, then any way -he deserveth to be charged withall. Which wretched condition of his, -if you were pleased to alter, and bestow on him some better meanes of -maintenance, to live like a worthy man, as he is no lesse: I make no -doubt, but (in very short time) hee will appeare as pleasing to your -holinesse, as (in my best judgement) I thinke him to be. - -The Pope, who was of a magnanimious spirit, and one that highly -affected men of vertue, hearing the commendable motion made by the -Abbot; returned answere, that he was as willing to grant it, as the -other desired it, sending Letters of safe conduct for his comming -thither. _Ghinotto_ receiving such assurance from the Court of Rome, -came thither immediatly, to the great joy of the Lord Abbot: and the -Pope finding him to be a man of valour and worth, upon reconciliation, -remitted all former errors, creating him knight, and Lord Prior of the -very chiefest Hospitall in Rome. In which Office he lived long time -after, as a loyall servant to the Church, and an honest thankefull -friend to the Lord Abbot of _Clugny_. - - - - -Mithridanes _envying the life and liberality of_ Nathan, _and -travelling thither, with a setled resolution to kill him: chaunceth to -conferre with_ Nathan _unknowne. And being instructed by him, in what -manner he might best performe the bloody deede, according as hee gave -direction, hee meeteth with him in a small Thicket or Woode, where -knowing him to be the same man, that taught him how to take away his -life: Confounded with shame, hee acknowledgeth his horrible intention, -and becommeth his loyall friend._ - -The third Novell. - -_Shewing in an excellent and lively demonstration, that any especiall -honourable vertue, persevering and dwelling in a truly noble soule, -cannot be violenced or confounded, by the most politicke attemptes of -malice and envy._ - - -It appeared to the whole assembly, that they had heard a matter of -mervaile, for a Lord Abbot to performe any magnificent action: but -their admiration ceasing in silence, the King commanded _Philostratus_ -to follow next, who forthwith thus began. - -Honourable Ladies, the bounty and magnificence of _Alphonso_ King -of _Spaine_, was great indeede, and that done by the Lord Abbot of -_Clugny_, a thing (perhaps) never heard of in any other. But it will -seeme no lesse mervailous to you, when you heare, how one man, in -expression of great liberality to another man, that earnestly desired -to kill him; should bee secretly disposed to give him his life, which -had bin lost, if the other would have taken it, as I purpose to -acquaint you withall, in a short Novell. - -Most certaine it is, at least, if Faith may bee given to the report of -certaine _Genewayes_, and other men resorting to those remote parts, -that in the Country of _Cathaya_, there lived somtime a Gentleman, rich -beyond comparison, and named _Nathan_. He having his living adjoyning -to a great common rode-way, whereby men travayled from the East to -the West (as they did the like from the West unto the East, as having -no other means of passage) and being of a bountifull and chearfull -disposition, which he was willing to make knowen by experience: he -summoned together many Master Masons and Carpenters, and there erected -(in a short time) one of the greatest, goodliest, and most beautifull -houses (in manner of a Princes Pallace) that ever was seene in all -those quarters. - -With movables and all kinde of furnishment, befitting a house of -such outward apparance, hee caused it to be plentifully stored, -onely to receive, entertaine, and honor all Gentlemen or other -Travailers whatsoever, as had occasion to passe that way, being not -unprovided also of such a number of servants, as might continuallie -give attendance on all commers and goers. Two and fifty severall -gates, standing al way wide open, & over each of them in great golden -carracters was written, _Welcome, welcome,_ and gave free admission to -all commers whatsoever. - -In this honourable order (observed as his estated custom) he persevered -so long a while, as not onely the East parts, but also those in the -west, were every where acquainted with his fame & renown. Being -already well stept into yeares, but yet not wearie (therefore) of his -great charge and liberality: it fortuned, that the rumour of his noble -Hospitality, came to the eare of another gallant Gentleman, named -_Mithridanes_, living in a Countrey not farre off from the other. - -This Gentleman, knowing himself no lesse wealthy then _Nathan_, and -enviously repining at his vertue and liberality, determined in his -mind, to dim and obscure the others bright splendour, by making himselfe -farre more famous. And having built a Palace answerable to that of -_Nathans_, with like windings of gates, and welcome inscriptions; he -beganne to extend immeasurable courtesies, unto all such as were -disposed to visite him: so that (in a short while) hee grew very -famous in infinite places. It chanced on a day, as _Mithridanes_ sate -all alone within the goodly Court of his Pallace: a poore woman -entred at one of the gates, craving an almes of him, which she had; -and returned in againe at a second gate, comming also to him, and -had a second almes; continuing so still a dozen times; but at the -thirteenth returning, _Mithridanes_ saide to her: Good Woman, you goe -and come very often, and still you are served with almes. When the old -Woman heard these words, she said. O the liberality of _Nathan_! How -honourable and wonderfull is that? I have past through two and thirty -gates of his Palace, even such as are here, and at every one I receyved -an almes, without any knowledgement taken of me, either by him, or any -of his followers: and heere I have past but through thirteene gates, -and am there both acknowledged and taken. Fare well to this house, for -I never meane to visit it any more; with which words shee departed -thence, and never after came thither againe. - -When _Mithridanes_ had a while pondered on her speeches, hee waxed -much discontented, as taking the words of the olde woman, to extoll -the renowne of _Nathan_, and darken or ecclipse his glorie, whereupon -he said to himselfe. Wretched man as I am, when shall I attaine to the -height of liberality, and performe such wonders, as _Nathan_ doth? In -seeking to surmount him, I cannot come neere him in the very meanest. -Undoubtedly, I spend all my endeavour but in vaine, except I rid the -world of him, which (seeing his age will not make an end of him) I must -needs do with my own hands. In which furious and bloody determination -(without revealing his intent to any one) he mounted on horse-backe, -with few attendants in his company, and after three dayes journey, -arrived where _Nathan_ dwelt. He gave order to his men, to make no shew -of beeing his servants, or any way to acknowledge him: but to provide -them selves of convenient lodgings, untill they heard other tydings -from him. - -About Evening, and (in this manner) alone by himselfe, neere to the -Palace of _Nathan_, he met him solitarily walking, not in pompous -apparrell, whereby to bee distinguished from a meaner man: and, because -he knew him not, neyther had heard any relation of his description, -he demanded of him, if he knew where _Nathan_ then was? _Nathan_, -with a chearfull countenance, thus replyed. Faire Syr, there is no -man in these parts, that knoweth better how to shew you _Nathan_ -then I do; and therefore, if you be so pleased, I will bring you to -him. _Mithridanes_ said, therein he should do him a great kindnesse: -albeit (if it were possible) he would bee neyther knowne nor seene -of _Nathan_. And that (quoth he) can I also do sufficiently for you, -seeing it is your will to have it so, if you will goe along with me. - -Dismounting from his horse, he walked on with _Nathan_, diversly -discoursing, untill they came to the Pallace, where one of the servants -taking _Mithridanes_ his horse, _Nathan_ rounded the fellow in the -eare, that he should give warning to all throughout the House, for -revealing to the Gentleman, that he was _Nathan_; as accordingly it was -performed. No sooner were they within the Pallace, but he conducted -_Mithridanes_ into a goodly chamber, where none (as yet) had seene him, -but such as were appointed to attend on him reverently; yea, and he did -himselfe greatly honor him, as being loth to leave his company. - -While thus _Mithridanes_ conversed with him, he desired to know -(albeit he respected him much for his yeares) what he was. Introth -Sir, answered _Nathan_, I am one of the meanest servants to _Nathan_, -and from my child-hood, have made my selfe thus olde in his service: -yet never hath he bestowed any other advancement on mee, then as you -now see; in which respect, howsoever other men may commend him, yet -I have no reason at all to do it. These Words, gave some hope to -_Mithridanes_, that with a little more counsell, he might securely put -in execution his wicked determination. _Nathan_ likewise demaunded of -him (but in very humble manner) of whence, and what he was, as also -the businesse inviting him thither: offering him his utmost aide and -counsell, in what soever consisted in his power. - -_Mithridanes_ sat an indifferent while meditating with his thoughts -before he would returne any answer: but at the last, concluding to -repose confidence in him (in regard of his pretended discontentment) -with many circumstantiall perswasions, first for fidelity, next for -constancie, and lastly for counsell and assistance, he declared to him -truly what he was, the cause of his comming thither, and the reason -urging him thereto. _Nathan_ hearing these words, and the detestable -deliberation of _Mithridanes_, became quite changed in himself: yet -wisely making no outward appearance thereof, with a bold courage and -setled countenance, thus he replyed. - -_Mithridanes_, thy Father was a Noble Gentleman, and (in vertuous -qualities) inferiour to none, from whom (as now I see) thou desirest -not to degenerate, having undertaken so bold & high an enterprise, -I meane, in being liberall and bountifull to all men. I do greatly -commend the envy which thou bearest to the vertue of _Nathan_: because -if there were many more such men, the world that is now wretched and -miserable, would become good and conformable. As for the determination -which thou hast disclosed to mee, I have sealed it up secretly in my -soule: wherein I can better give thee counsell, then any especiall -helpe or furtherance: and the course which I would have thee to -observe, followeth thus in few words. - -This window, which we now looke forth at, sheweth thee a small wood -or thicket of trees, being little more then the quarter of a miles -distance hence; whereto _Nathan_ usually walketh every morning, and -there continueth time long enough: there maist thou very easily meet -him, and do whatsoever thou intended to him. If thou kilst him, because -thou maist with safety returne home unto thine owne abiding, take not -the same way which guided thee thither, but another, lying on the -left hand, & directing speedily out of the wood, as being not so much -haunted as the other, but rather free from all resort, and surest for -visiting thine owne countrey, after such a dismall deed is done. - -When _Mithridanes_ had receyved this instruction, and _Nathan_ was -departed from him, hee secretly gave intelligence to his men, (who -likewise were lodged, as welcome strangers, in the same house) at what -place they should stay for him the next morning. Night being passed -over, and _Nathan_ risen, his heart altred not a jot from his counsell -given to _Mithridanes_, much lesse changed from anie part thereof: but -all alone by himselfe, walked on to the wood, the place appointed for -his death. _Mithridanes_ also being risen, taking his Bow & Sword (for -other weapons had he none) mounted on hors-backe, and so came to the -wood, where (somewhat farre off) hee espyed _Nathan_ walking, and no -creature with him. Dismounting from his horse, he had resolved (before -he would kill him) not onely to see, but also to heare him speake: so -stepping roughly to him, and taking hold of the bonnet on his head, -his face being then turned from him, he sayde. Old man, thou must dye. -Whereunto _Nathan_ made no other answer, but thus: Why then (belike) I -have deserved it. - -When _Mithridanes_ heard him speake, and looked advisedly on his face, -he knew him immediatly to be the same man, that had entertained him -so lovingly, conversed with him so familiarly, and counselled him so -faithfully: all which overcomming his former fury, his harsh nature -became meerly confounded with shame: So throwing downe his drawne -sword, which he held readily prepared for the deede: he prostrated -himselfe at _Nathans_ feet, and in teares, spake in this manner. Now -do I manifestly know (most loving Father) your admired bounty and -liberalitie; considering, with what industrious providence, you made -the meanes for your comming hither, prodigally to bestow your life -on me, which I have no right unto, although you were so willing to -part with it. But those high and supreame powers, more carefull of my -dutie, then I my selfe: even at the very instant, and when it was most -needfull, opened the eyes of my better understanding, which infernall -envy had closed up before. And therefore, looke how much you have -bin forward to pleasure me; so much the more shame and punishment, I -confesse my heinous transgression hath justly deserved: take therefore -on me (if you please) such revenge, as you thinke (in justice) -answerable to my sin. - -_Nathan_ lovingly raised _Mithridanes_ from the ground, then kissing -his cheeke, and tenderly embracing him, he said. Sonne, thou needed -not to aske, much lesse to obtaine pardon, for any enterprise of -thine, which thou canst not yet terme to be good or bad: because -thou soughtest not to bereave me of my life, for any hatred thou -barest me, but onely in coveting to be reputed the Woorthier man. -Take then this assurance of me, and beleeve it constantly, that there -is no man living, whom I love and honour, as I do thee: considering -the greatnesse of thy minde, which consisteth not in the heaping up -of money, as wretched and miserable Worldlings make it their onely -felicity; but, contending in bounty to spend what is thine, didst hold -it for no shame to kill me, thereby to make thy selfe so much the more -worthily famous. - -Nor is it any matter to be wondred at, in regard that Emperors, and the -greatest Kings, hadde never made such extendure of their Dominions, and -consequently of their renowne, by any other Art, then killing; yet not -one man onely, as thou wouldst have done: but infinite numbers, burning -whole Countries, and making desolate huge Townes and Cities, onely to -enlarge their dominion, and further spreading of their fame. Wherefore, -if for the increasing of thine owne renowne, thou wast desirous of my -death: it is no matter of novelty, and therefore deserving the lesse -mervaile, seeing men are slaine daily, and all for one purpose or other. - -_Mithridanes_, excusing no further his malevolent deliberation, but -rather commending the honest defence, which _Nathan_ made on his -behalfe; proceeded so farre in after discoursing, as to tel him -plainely, that it did wondrously amaze him, how he durst come to -the fatall appointed place, himselfe having so exactly plotted and -contrived his owne death: whereunto _Nathan_ returned this aunswere. - -I would not have thee _Mithridanes_, to wonder at my counsell or -determination; because, since age hath made mee Maister of mine owne -will, and I resolved to doe that, wherein thou hast begun to follow -me: never came any man to mee, whom I did not content (if I could) in -any thing he demanded of mee. It was thy fortune to come for my life, -which when I saw thee so desirous to have it, I resolved immediately to -bestow it on thee: and so much the rather, because thou shouldst not -be the onely man, that ever departed hence, without enjoying whatsoever -hee demanded. And, to the end thou mightst the more assuredly have it, -I gave thee that advice, least by not enjoying mine, thou shouldest -chance to loose thine owne. I have had the use of it full fourescore -yeares, with the consummation of all my delights and pleasures: and -well I know, that according to the course of Nature (as it fares with -other men, and generally all things else) it cannot bee long before it -must leave mee. - -Wherefore, I hold it much better for me to give it away freely, as I -have alwayes done my goods and treasure; then bee curious in keeping -it, and suffer it to be taken from me (whether I will or no) by Nature. -A small gift it is, if time make me up the full summe of an hundred -yeares: how miserable is it then, to stand beholding but for foure or -five, and all of them vexation too? Take it then I intreate thee, if -thou wilt have it; for I never met with any man before (but thy selfe) -that did desire it, nor (perhaps) shall finde any other to request it: -for the longer I keepe it, the worse it will be esteemed: and before it -grow contemptible, take it I pray thee. - -_Mithridanes_, being exceedingly confounded with shame, bashfully -sayde: Fortune fore-fend, that I should take away a thing so precious -as your life is, or once to have so vile a thought of it as lately I -had; but rather then I would diminish one day thereof, I could wish, -that my time might more amply enlarge it. Forthwith aunswered _Nathan_, -saying. Wouldst thou (if thou couldst) shorten thine owne dayes, onely -to lengthen mine? Why then thou wouldest have me to do that to thee, -which (as yet) I never did unto any man, namely, robbe thee, to enrich -my selfe. I will enstruct thee in a much better course, if thou wilt -be advised by mee. Lusty and young, as now thou art, thou shalt dwell -heere in my house, and be called by the name of _Nathan_. Aged, and -spent with yeares, as thou seest I am, I will goe live in thy house, -and bee called by the name of _Mithridanes_. So, both the name and -place shall illustrate thy Glorie, and I live contentedly, without the -very least thought of envie. - -Deare Father, answered _Mithridanes_, if I knew so well howe to direct -mine owne actions, as you doe, and alwayes have done, I would gladly -accept your most liberall offer: but because I plainlie perceive, that -my very best endeavours, must remayne darkened by the bright renowne of -_Nathan_: I will never seeke to impayre that in another, which I cannot -(by any means) increase in my selfe, but (as you have worthily taught -me) live contented with my owne condition. - -After these, and many more like loving speeches had passed between -them, according as _Nathan_ very instantly requested, _Mithridanes_ -returned back with him to the Pallace, where many dayes he highly -honored & respected him, comforting & counselling him, to persever -alwayes in his honourable determination. But in the end, when -_Mithridanes_ could abide there no longer, because necessary occasions -called him home: he departed thence with his men, having found by good -experience, that hee could never goe beyond _Nathan_ in liberality. - - - - -Signior Gentile de Carisendi, _being come from_ Modena, _took a -Gentlewoman, named Madam_ Catharina, _forth of a grave, wherein she -was buried for dead: which act he did, in regard of his former honest -affection to the said Gentlewoman. Madame_ Catharina _remaining -afterward, and delivered of a goodly Sonne: was (by_ Signior _there_ -Gentile) _delivered to her owne Husband, named_ Signior Nicoluccio -Caccianimico, _and the yong infant with her._ - -The Fourth Novell. - -_Wherein is shewne, That true love hath alwayes bin, and so still is, -the occasion of many great and worthy courtesies._ - - -By judgment of all the honorable assembly, it was reputed wonderfull, -that a man should be so bountifull, as to give away his owne life, -and to his hatefull enemy. In which respect, it passed with generall -affirmation, that _Nathan_ (in the vertue of liberallity) had -exceeded _Alphonso_, King of _Spaine_, but (especially) the Abbot of -_Clugny_. So, after every one had delivered their opinion, the King, -turning himselfe to Madame _Lauretta_, gave her such a signe, as well -instructed her understanding, that she should be the next in order, -whereto she gladly yeelding, began in this manner. - -Youthfull Ladies, the discourses already past, have been so worthy and -magnificent, yea, reaching to such a height of glorious splendour; as -(me thinkes) there remaineth no more matter, for us that are yet to -speake, whereby to enlarge so famous an Argument, and in such manner -as it ought to be: except we lay hold on the actions of love, wherein -is never any want of subject, it is so faire and spacious a field to -walke in. Wherefore, as well in behalfe of the one, as advancement -of the other, whereto our instant age is most of all inclined: I -purpose to acquaint you with a generous and magnificent act, of an -amourous Gentleman, which when it shall be duely considered on, perhaps -will appeare equall to any of the rest. At least, if it may passe -for currant, that men may give away their treasures, forgive mighty -injuries, and lay downe life it selfe, honour and renowne (which is -farre greater) to infinite dangers, only to attaine any thing esteemed -and affected. - -Understand then (Gracious hearers) that in _Bologna_, a very famous -City of _Lombardie_, there lived sometime a Knight, most highly -respected for his vertues, named Signior _Gentile de Carisendi_, who -(in his yonger dayes) was enamoured of a Gentlewoman, called Madam -_Catharina_, the Wife of Signior _Nicoluccio Caccianimico_. And -because during the time of his amourous pursuite, he found but a sorry -enterchange of affection from the Lady; hee went (as hopelesse of any -successe) to be Potestate of _Modena_, whereto he was called by place -and order. - -At the same time, Signior _Nicoluccio_ being absent from _Bologna_, and -his Lady at a Farme-house of his in the Countrey (about three miles -distant from the City) because she was great with child, and somewhat -neere the time of her teeming: it came to passe, that some dangerous -accident befell her, which was so powerfull in operation, as no signe -of life appeared remained in her, but she was reputed (even in the -judgement of the best Phisitians, whereof she wanted no attendance) to -be verily dead. And because in the opinion of her parents and neerest -kinred, the time for her deliverance was yet so farre off, as the -Infant within her, wanted much of a perfect creature: they made the -lesse mourning; but in the next Church, as also the vault belonging to -her Ancestors, they gave her buriall very speedily. - -Which tydings comming to the hearing of Signior _Gentile_, by one that -was his endeared friend: Although (while she lived) he could never be -gracious in her favour, yet her so sudden death did greatly grieve -him, whereupon he discoursed in this sort with himselfe. Deare Madame -_Catharina_, I am not a little sorry for thy death, although (during -thy life-time) I was scarcely worthy of one kind looke: Yet now being -dead, thou canst not prohibite me, but I may robbe thee of a kisse. -No sooner had hee spoke the words, but it beeing then night, and -taking such order, as none might know of his departure: hee mounted on -horse-backe, accompanied onely with one servant, and stayed no where, -till hee came to the vault where the Lady was buried. Which when he had -opened, with instruments convenient for the purpose, he descended downe -into the vault, and kneeled downe by the Beere whereon she lay, and -in her wearing garments, according to the usuall manner, with teares -trickling mainly downe his cheekes, he bestowed infinite sweet kisses -on her. - -But as we commonly see, that mens desires are never contented, but -still will presume on further advantages, especially such as love -entirely: so fared it with _Gentile_, who being once minded to get him -gone, as satisfied with the oblation of his kisses; would needs yet -step backe againe, saying. Why should I not touch her yvory breast, -the Adamant that drew all desires to adore her? Ah let me touch it -now, for never hereafter can I bee halfe so happy. Overcome with this -alluring appetite, gently he laid his hand upon her breast, with the -like awefull respect, as if she were living, and holding it so an -indifferent while: either he felt, or his imagination so perswaded him, -the heart of the Lady to beate and pant. Casting off all fond feare, -and the warmth of his increasing the motion: his inward soule assured -him, that she was not dead utterly, but had some small sense of life -remaining in her, whereof he would needs be further informed. - -So gently as possible he could, and with the helpe of his man, he tooke -her forth of the monument, & laying her softly on his horse before him, -conveighed her closely to his house in _Bologna_. Signior _Gentile_ -had a worthy Lady to his Mother, a woman of great wisdome and vertue, -who understanding by her Sonne, how matters had happened; moved with -compassion, and suffering no one in the house to know what was done, -made a good fire, and very excellent Bathe, which recalled back againe -wrong-wandering life. Then fetching a vehement sigh, opening her eyes, -& looking very strangely about her, she said. Alas! where am I now? -whereto the good old Lady kindly replyed, saying. Comfort your selfe -Madame, for you are in a good place. - -Her spirits being in better manner met together, and she still gazing -every way about her, not knowing well where she was, and seeing Signior -_Gentile_ standing before her: he entreated his mother to tell her by -what meanes she came thither; which the good old Lady did, _Gentile_ -himselfe helping to relate the whole history. A while she grieved -and lamented, but afterward gave them most hearty thankes, humbly -requesting, that, in regard of the love he had formerly borne her, in -his house she might finde no other usage, varying from the honour of -her selfe and her Husband, and when day was come, to be conveighed home -to her owne house. Madame, answered Signior _Gentile_, whatsoever I -sought to gaine from you in former dayes, I never meane, either here, -or any where else, to motion any more. But seeing it hath been my happy -fortune, to prove the blessed means, of reducing you from death to -life: you shall find no other entertainment here, then as if you were -mine owne Sister. And yet the good deed which I have this night done -for you, doth well deserve some courteous requitall: in which respect, -I would have you not to deny me one favour, which I will presume to -crave of you. Whereto the Lady lovingly replyed, that she was willing -to grant it; provided, it were honest, and in her power: whereto -Signior _Gentile_ thus answered. - -Madame, your parents, kindred and friends, and generally all throughout -_Bologna_, doe verily thinke you to be dead, wherefore there is not any -one, that will make any inquisition after you: in which regard, the -favour I desire from you, is no more but to abide here secretly with -my Mother, untill such time as I returne from _Modena_, which shall -be very speedily. The occasion why I move this motion, aymeth at this -end, that in presence of the chiefest persons of our City, I may make -a gladsome present of you to your Husband. The Lady knowing her selfe -highly beholding to the Knight, and the request he made to be very -honest: disposed her selfe to doe as he desired (although she earnestly -longed, to glad her parents and kindred with seeing her alive) and -made her promise him on her faith, to effect it in such manner, as he -pleased to appoint and give her direction. - -Scarcely were these words concluded, but she felt the custome of women -to come upon her, with the paines and throwes incident to childing: -wherefore, with helpe of the aged Lady, Mother to Signior _Gentile_, it -was not long before her deliverance of a goodly Sonne, which greatly -augmented the joy of her and _Gentile_, who tooke order, that all -things belonging to a Woman in such a case, were not wanting, but she -was as carefully respected, even as if she had been his owne Wife. -Secretly he repaired to _Modena_, where having given direction for his -place of authority; he returned back againe to _Bologna_, and there -made preparation for a great and solemne feast, appointing who should -be his invited guests, the very chiefest persons in _Bologna_, and -(among them) Signior _Nicoluccio Caccianimico_ the especiall man. - -After he was dismounted from horsebacke, and found so good company -attending for him (the Lady also, more faire and healthful then ever, -and the Infant lively disposed) he sate downe at the Table with his -guests, causing them to be served in most magnificent manner, with -plenty of all delicates that could be devised, and never before was -there such a Joviall feast. About the ending of dinner, closely he made -the Lady acquainted with his further intention, and likewise in what -order every thing should be done, which being effected, he returned to -his company, & used these speeches. - -Honourable friends, I remember a discourse sometime made unto me, -concerning the Countrey of _Persia_, and a kind of custome there -observed, not to be misliked in mine opinion. When any one intended -to honour his friend in effectuall manner, he invited him home to his -house, and there would shew him the thing, which with greatest love -he did respect; were it Wife, Friend, Sonne, Daughter, or any thing -else whatsoever; wherewithall hee spared not to affirme, that as he -shewed him those choyce delights, the like view he should have of his -heart, if with any possibility it could be done; and the very same -custome I meane now to observe here in our City. You have vouchsafed -to honour me with your presence, at this poore homely dinner of mine, -and I will welcome you after the _Persian_ manner, in shewing you the -Jewell, which (above all things else in the world) I ever have most -respectively esteemed. But before I doe it, I crave your favourable -opinions in a doubt, which I will plainely declare unto you. - -If any man having in his house a good and faithfull servant, who -falling into extremity of sickenesse, shall be throwne forth into -the open street, without any care or pitty taken on him; A stranger -chanceth to passe by, and (moved with compassion of his weakenesse) -carryeth him home to his owne house, where using all charitable -diligence, and not sparing any cost, he recovereth the sicke person to -his former health. I now desire to know, if keeping the said restored -person, and imploying him about his owne businesse: the first Master -(by pretending his first right) may lawfully complaine of the second, -and yeeld him backe againe to the first master, albeit he doe make -challenge of him? - -All the Gentlemen, after many opinions passing among them, agreed -altogether in one sentence, and gave charge to Signior _Nicoluccio -Caccianimico_, (because he was an excellent and elegant speaker) to -give answere for them all. First, he commended the custome observed in -_Persia_, saying, he jumpt in opinion with all the rest, that the first -Master had no right at all to the servant, having not onely (in such -necessity) forsaken him, but also cast him forth into the comfortlesse -street. But for the benefits and mercy extended to him; it was more -then manifest, that the recovered person, was become justly servant to -the second Master, and in detayning him from the first, hee did not -offer him any injury at all. The whole Company sitting at the Table -(being all very wise & worthy men) gave their verdict likewise with -the confession of Signior _Nicoluccio Caccianimico_. Which answere -did not a little please the Knight; and so much the rather, because -_Nicoluccio_ had pronounced it, affirming himselfe to be of the same -minde. - -So, sitting in a pretended musing a while, at length he said. My -honourable guests, it is now more then high time, that I should doe -you such honour, as you have most justly deserved, by performing the -promise made unto you. Then calling two of his servants, he sent -them to Madame _Catharina_ (whom he had caused to adorne her self -in excellent manner) entreating her, that she would be pleased to -grace his guests with her presence. _Catharina_, having deckt her -child in costly habiliments, layed it in her armes, and came with -the servants into the dyning Hall, and sate down (as the Knight had -appointed) at the upper end of the Table, and then Signior _Gentile_ -spake thus. Behold, worthy Gentlemen, this is the Jewell which I have -most affected, and intend to love none other in the world; be you my -Judges, whether I have just occasion to doe so, or no? The Gentlemen -saluting her with respective reverence, said to the Knight; that he had -great reason to affect her: And viewing her advisedly, many of them -thought her to be the very same woman (as indeed she was) but that they -beleeved her to be dead. - -But above all the rest _Nicoluccio Caccianimico_ could never be -satisfied with beholding her; and, enflamed with earnest desire, to -know what she was, could not refraine (seeing the Knight was gone out -of the roome) but demaunded of her, whether she were of _Bologna_, or a -stranger? when the Lady heard her selfe to be thus questioned, and by -her Husband, it seemed painefull to her, to containe from answering: -Neverthelesse, to perfect the Knights intended purpose, she sate -silent. Others demaunded of her, whether the sweet Boy were hers, or -no; and some questioned, if she were _Gentiles_ Wife, or no, or else -his Kinsewoman; to all which demaunds, she returned not any answere. -But when the Knight came to them againe, some of them said to him. Sir, -this woman is a goodly creature, but she appeareth to be dumbe, which -were great pitty, if it should be so. Gentlemen (quoth he) it is no -small argument of her vertue, to sit still and silent at this instant. -Tell us then (said they) of whence, and what she is. Therein (quoth -he) I will quickely resolve you, upon your conditionall promise: that -none of you do remove from his place, whatsoever shall be said or done, -untill I have fully delivered my minde. Every one bound himselfe by -solemne promise, to perform what he had appointed, and the Tables being -voided, as also the Carpets laid; then the Knight (sitting downe by the -Lady) thus began. - -Worthy Gentlemen, this Lady is that true and faithfull servant, whereof -I moved the question to you, whom I tooke out of the cold street, -where her parents, kindred and friends (making no account at all of -her) threw her forth, as a thing vile and unprofitable. Neverthelesse, -such hath been my care and cost, that I have rescued her out of -deaths griping power; and, in a meere charitable disposition, which -honest affection caused me to beare her; of a body, full of terror -& affrighting (as then she was) I have caused her to become thus -lovely as you see. But because you may more apparantly discerne, in -what manner this occasion happened; I will lay it open to you in more -familiar manner. Then he began the whole history, from the originall of -his unbeseeming affection to her (in regard she was a worthy mans wife) -and consequently, how all had happened to the instant houre, to the -no meane admiration of all the hearers, adding withall. Now Gentlemen -(quoth he) if you varry not from your former opinion, and especially -Signior _Nicoluccio Caccianimico_: this Lady (by good right) is mine, -and no man else, by any just title, can lay any claime to her. - -All sate silent, without answering one word, as expecting what he -intended further to say: but in the meane while, _Nicoluccio_, the -parents and kindred, but chiefely the Lady her selfe, appeared as halfe -melted into teares with weeping. But Signior _Gentile_, starting up -from the Table, taking the Infant in his arme, and leading the Lady by -the hand, going to _Nicoluccio_, thus spake. Rise Sir, I will not give -thee thy wife, whom both her kindred and thine, threw forth into the -street: but I will bestow this Lady on thee, being my Gossip, and this -sweet Boy my God-sonne, who was (as I am verily perswaded) begotten by -thee, I standing witnesse for him at the Font of Baptisme, and give him -mine owne name _Gentile_. Let me entreat thee, that, although she hath -lived here in mine house, for the space of three monethes, she should -not be lesse welcome to thee, then before: for I sweare to thee upon -my soule, that my former affection to her (how unjust soever) was the -onely meanes of preserving her life: and more honestly she could not -live, with Father, Mother, or thy selfe, then she hath done here with -mine owne Mother. - -Having thus spoken, he turned to the Lady, saying. Madame, I now -discharge you of all promises made me, delivering you to your Husband -franke and free: And when he had given him the Lady, and the child -in his armes, he returned to his place, and sate downe againe. -_Nicoluccio_, with no meane joy and hearty contentment received both -his wife and childe, being before farre from expectation of such an -admirable comfort; returning the Knight infinite thankes (as all the -rest of the Company did the like) who could not refraine from weeping -for meere joy, for such a strange and wonderfull accident: everyone -highly commending _Gentile_, & such also as chanced to heare thereof. -The Lady was welcommed home to her owne house, with many moneths of -Joviall feasting, and as she passed through the streets, all beheld her -with admiration, to be so happily recovered from her grave. Signior -_Gentile_ lived long after, a loyall friend to _Nicoluccio_ and his -Lady, and all that were well-willers to them. - -What thinke you now Ladies? Can you imagine, because a King gave away -his Crowne and Scepter; and an Abbot (without any cost to himselfe) -reconciled a Malefactor to the Pope; and an old idle-headed man, -yeelding to the mercy of his enemy: that all those actions are -comparable to this of Signior _Gentile_? Youth and ardent affection, -gave him a just and lawfull title, to her who was free (by imagined -death) from Husbands, Parents, and all friends else, she being -so happily wonne into his owne possession. Yet honesty not onely -over-swayed the heate of desire, which in many men is violent and -immoderate: but with a bountifull and liberall soule, that which he -coveted beyond all hopes else, and had within his owne command; he -freely gave away. Beleeve me (bright Beauties) not any of the other (in -a true and unpartiall judgement) are worthy to be equalled with this, -or stiled by the name of magnificent actions. - - - - -_Madame_ Dianora, _the Wife of Signior_ Gilberto, _being immodestly -affected by Signior_ Ansaldo, _to free herselfe from his tedious -importunity, she appointed him to performe (in her judgement) an act -of impossibility, namely, to give her a Garden, as plentifully stored -with fragrant Flowers in January, as in the flourishing moneth of_ May. -Ansaldo, _by meanes of a bond which he made to a Magitian, performed -her request. Signior_ Gilberto, _the Ladyes Husband, gave consent, that -his Wife should fulfill her promise made to_ Ansaldo. _Who hearing the -bountifull mind of her Husband; released her of her promise: And the -Magitian likewise discharged Signior_ Ansaldo, _without taking any -thing of him._ - -The fift Novell. - -_Admonishing all Ladies and Gentlewomen, that are desirous to preserve -their chastity, free from all blemish and taxation: to make no promise -of yeelding to any, under a compact or covenant, how impossible soever -it may seeme to be._ - - -Not any one in all the Company, but extolled the worthy Act of Signior -_Gentile_ to the skies; till the King gave command to Madame _Æmillia_, -that she should follow next with her Tale, who boldly stepping up, -began in this order. - -Gracious Ladies, I thinke there is none heere present among us, but -(with good reason) may maintaine, that Signiour _Gentile_ performed a -magnificent deede: but whosoever saith, it is impossible to do more; -perhaps is ignorant in such actions, as can and may be done, as I meane -to make good unto you, by a Novell not over-long or tedious. - -The Countrey of _Fretulium_, better knowne by the name of _Forum -Julii_; although it be subject to much cold, yet it is pleasant, in -regard of many goodly Mountaines, Rivers, and cleare running Springs, -wherewith it is not meanly stored. Within those Territories, is a City -called _Udina_, where sometime lived a faire and Noble Lady, named -Madame _Dianora_, Wife to a rich and woorthie Knight, called Signior -_Gilberto_, a man of very great fame and merite. - -This beautifull** Lady, beeing very modest and vertuously inclined, was -highly affected by a Noble Baron of those parts, tearmed by the name -of Signior _Ansaldo Gradense_, a man of very great spirit, bountifull, -active in Armes, and yet very affable and courteous, which caused him -to be the better respected. His love to this Lady was extraordinary, -hardly to bee contained within any moderate compasse, striving to bee -in like manner affected of her: to which end, she wanted no daily -solicitings, Letters, Ambassages and Love-tokens, all proving to no -purpose. - -This vertuous Lady, being wearied with his often temptations, and -seeing, that by denying whatsoever he demanded, yet he wold not give -over his suite, but so much the more importunatly still pursued her: -began to bethinke herselfe, how she might best be rid of him, by -imposing some such taske upon him, as should bee impossible (in her -opinion) for him to effect. An olde woman, whom hee imployed for his -continual messenger to her, as shee came one day about her ordinary -errand, with her she communed in this manner. Good woman (quoth she) -thou hast so often assured me, that Signior _Ansaldo_ loveth me above -all other Women in the world, offering me wonderfull gifts and presents -in his name, which I have alwayes refused, and so still will do, in -regard I am not to be woon by any such allurements: yet if I could be -soundly perswaded, that his affection is answerable to thy peremptory -protestations, I shoulde (perhaps) be the sooner wonne, to listen to -his suite in milder manner, then hitherto I have done. Wherefore, if he -will give me assurance, to perform such a businesse as I mean to enjoyne -him, he shall the speedier heare better answer from me, and I will -confirme it with mine oath. - -Wonderfully pleased was Mistresse _Maquerella_, to heare a reply of -such comfortable hope; and therefore desired the Lady, to tel hir what -she wold have done. Listen to me wel (answerd Madam _Dianora_) the -matter which I would have him to effect for me, is; without the wals of -our City, and during the month of Januarie nexte ensuing, to provide me -a Garden, as fairely furnished with all kind of fragrant flowers, as -the flourishing month of May can yeelde no better. If he be not able -to accomplish this imposition, then I command him, never hereafter to -solicite me any more, either by thee, or any other whatsoever; for, -if he do importune me afterward, as hitherto I have concealed his -secret conspiring, both from my husband, and all my friends; so will -I then lay his dishonest suite open to the world, that he may receive -punishment accordingly, for offering to wrong a Gentleman in his wife. - -When Signior _Ansaldo_ heard her demand, and the offer beside -thereupon** made him (although it seemed no easie matter; but a thing -meerly impossible to be done) he considered advisedly, that she made -this motion to no other end, but onely to bereave him of all his hope, -ever to enjoy what so earnestly hee desired: neverthelesse, he would -not so give it utterly over, but would needs approve what could be -done. Heereupon, hee sent into divers partes of the world, to find out -any one that was able to advise him in this doubtfull case. In the end, -one was brought to him, who beeing well recompenced for his paines, -by the Art of Nigromancie would undertake to do it. With him Signior -_Ansaldo_ covenanted, binding himselfe to pay a great summe of mony, -upon performance of so rare a deed, awaiting (in hopefull expectation) -for the month of Januaries comming. - -It being come, and the weather then in extreamity of cold, every thing -being covered with ice and snow; the Magitian prevailed so by his -Art, that after the Christmas Holy dayes were past, and the Calends -of January entred: in one night, and without the Cittie Wals, the -goodliest Garden of flowers and fruites, was sodainely sprung up, as -(in opinion of such as beheld it) never was the like seen before. -Now Ladies, I think I need not demand the question, whether Signior -_Ansaldo_ were wel pleased, or no, who going to beholde it, saw it most -plenteously stored, with al kind of fruit trees, flowers, herbes and -plants, as no one could be named, that was wanting in this artificiall -garden. And having gathered some pretty store of them, secretly he sent -them to Madam _Dianora_, inviting hir to come see her Garden, perfected -according to her owne desire, and uppon view thereof, to confesse the -integrity of his love to her; considering and remembring withall, the -promise shee had made him under solemne oath, that she might be reputed -for a woman of her word. - -When the Lady beheld the fruites and flowers, and heard many other -thinges re-counted, so wonderfully growing in the same Garden: she -began to repent her rash promise made; yet not withstanding her -repentance, as Women are covetous to see all rarities; so, accompanied -with divers Ladies and Gentlewomen more, she went to see the Garden; -and having commended it with much admiration, she returned home againe, -the most sorrowfull Woman as ever lived, considering what she had tyed -her selfe to, for enjoying this Garden. So excessive grew her griefe -and affliction, that it could not be so clouded or concealed: but her -Husband tooke notice of it, and would needs understand the occasion -thereof. Long the Lady (in regard of shame and modesty) sate without -returning any answer; but being in the end constrained, she disclosd -the whole History to him. - -At the first, Signior _Gilberto_ waxed exceeding angry, but when he -further considered withall, the pure and honest intention of his Wife; -wisely he pacified his former distemper, and saide. _Dianora_, it is -not the part of a wise and honest woman, to lend an eare to ambassages -of such immodest nature, much lesse to compound or make agreement for -her honesty, with any person, under any condition whatsoever. Those -perswasions which the heart listeneth to, by allurement of the eare, -have greater power then many do imagine, & nothing is so uneasie -or difficult, but in a lovers judgement it appeareth possible. Ill -didst thou therefore first of all to listen, but worse (afterward) to -contract. - -But, because I know the purity of thy soule, I will yeelde (to disoblige -thee of thy promise) as perhaps no wise man else would do: mooved -thereto onely by feare of the Magitian, who seeing Signior _Ansaldo_ -displeased, because thou makest a mockage of him; will do some such -violent wrong to us, as we shall be never able to recover. Wherefore, -I would have thee go to Signior _Ansaldo_, and if thou canst (by -any meanes) obtaine of him, the safe-keeping of thy honour, and full -discharge of thy promise; it shall be an eternall fame to thee, and -the crowne of a most victorious conquest. But if it must needs be -otherwise, lend him thy body onely for once, but not thy will: for -actions committed by constraint, wherein the will is no way guilty, are -halfe pardonable by the necessity. - -Madame _Dianora_, hearing her husbands words, wept exceedingly, and -avouched, that shee had not deserved any such especiall grace of him, -and therefore she would rather dye, then doe it. Neverthelesse, it was -the will of her Husband to have it so, and therefore (against her will) -she gave consent. The next morning, by the breake of day, _Dianora_ -arose, and attiring her selfe in her very meanest garments, with two -servingmen before her, and a waiting Woman following, she went to the -lodging of Signior _Ansaldo_, who hearing that Madam _Dianora_ was -come to visite him, greatly mervailed, and being risen, he called the -Magitian to him, saying. Come go with me, and see what effect will -follow upon thine Art. And being come into her presence, without any -base or inordinate appetite, he did her humble reverence, embracing her -honestly, and taking her into a goodly Chamber, where a faire fire was -readilie prepared, causing her to sit downe by him, he sayde unto her -as followeth. - -Madam, I humbly intreat you to resolve me, if the affection I have long -time borne you, and yet do still, deserve any recompence at all: you -would be pleased then to tel me truly, the occasion of your instant -comming hither, and thus attended as you are. _Dianora_, blushing with -modest shame, and the teares trickling mainly down her faire cheekes, -thus answered. Signior _Ansaldo_, not for any Love I beare you, or care -of my faithfull promise made to you, but onely by the command of my -husband (who respecting more the paynes and travels of your inordinate -love, then his owne reputation and honor, or mine;) hath caused me to -come hither: and by vertue of his command, am ready (for once onely) to -fulfill your pleasure, but far from any will or consent in my selfe. -If Signior _Ansaldo_ were abashed at the first, hee began now to be -more confounded with admiration, when he heard the Lady speake in such -strange manner: & being much moved with the liberall command of her -husband, he began to alter his inflamed heate, into most honourable -respect and compassion, returning her this answer. - -Most noble Lady, the Gods forbid (if it be so as you have sayd) that I -should (Villain-like) soile the honour of him, that takes such unusuall -compassion of my unchaste appetite. And therefore, you may remaine -heere so long as you please, in no other condition, but as mine owne -naturall borne Sister; and likewise, you may depart freely when you -will: conditionally, that (on my behalfe) you render such thankes to -your husband, as you thinke convenient for his great bounty towards me, -accounting me for ever heereafter, as his loyall Brother and faithfull -servant. _Dianora_ having well observed his answer, her heart being -ready to mount out at her mouth with joy, said. All the world could -never make mee beleeve (considering your honourable minde and honesty) -that it would happen otherwise to me, then now it hath done; for which -noble courtesie, I will continually remaine obliged to you. So, taking -her leave, she returned home honorably attended to her husband, and -relating to him what had happened, it proved the occasion of begetting -intire love and friendship, betweene himselfe and the Noble Lord -_Ansaldo_. - -Now concerning the skilfull Magitian, to whom _Ansaldo_ meant to -give the bountifull recompence agreed on betweene them, hee having -seene the strange liberality, which the husband expressed to Signior -_Ansaldo_, and that of _Ansaldo_ to the Lady, hee presently saide. -Great _Jupiter_ strike me dead with thunder, having my selfe seene a -husband so liberall of his honour, and you Sir of true noble kindnesse, -if I should not be the like of my recompence: for, perceiving it to -be so worthily imployed, I am well contented that you shall keepe it. -The Noble Lord was modestly ashamed, and strove (so much as in him -lay) that he should take all, or the greater part thereof: but seeing -he laboured meerly in vaine, after the third day was past, and the -Magitian had destroyed the Garden againe, hee gave him free liberty to -depart, quite controlling all fond and unchaste affection in himselfe, -either towards _Dianora_, or any Lady else, and living (ever after) as -best becommeth any Nobleman to do. - -What say you now Ladies? Shall wee make any account of the woman -wel-neere dead, and the kindnesse growne cold in Signiour _Gentile_, -by losse of his former hopes, comparing them with the liberality of -Signior _Ansaldo_, affecting more fervently, then ever the other did? -And being (beyond hope) possessed of the booty, which (above all things -else in the world) he most desired to have, to part with it meerly -in fond compassion? I protest (in my judgement) the one is no way -comparable to the other; that of _Gentile_, with this last of Signior -_Ansaldo_. - - - - -_Victorious_ King Charles, _sirnamed the Aged, and first of that Name, -fell in love with a yong Maiden, named_ Genevera, _daughter to an -ancient Knight, called Signior_ Neri degli Uberti. _And waxing ashamed -of his amorous folly, caused both_ Genevera, _and her fayre Sister_ -Isotta, _to be joyned in marriage with two Noble Gentlemen; the one -named_ Signior Maffeo da Palizzi, _and the other,_ Signior Gulielmo -della Magna. - -The Sixt Novell. - -_Sufficiently declaring, that how mighty soever the power of Love is: -yet a magnanimous and truly generous heart, it can by no meanes fully -conquer._ - - -Who is able to expresse ingeniously, the diversity of opinions, which -hapned among the Ladies, in censuring on the act of Madame _Dianora_, -and which of them was most liberall, either Signior _Gilberto_ the -Husband, Lord _Ansaldo_ the importunate suiter, or the Magitian, -expecting to bee bountifully rewarded. Surely, it is a matter beyond -my capacity: but after the King had permitted their disputation a long -while, looking on Madam _Fiammetta_, he commanded that she should -report her Novel to make an end of their controversie; and she (without -any further delaying) thus began. I did alwaies (Noble Ladies) hold -it fit and decent, that in such an assembly as this of ours is, every -one ought to speake so succinctly and plainly: that the obscure -understanding, concerning the matters spoken of, should have no cause -of disputation. For disputes do much better become the Colledges of -Scholars, then to be among us, who hardly can manage our Distaves -or Samplers. And therefore I, doe intend to relate something, which -(peradventure) might appeare doubtfull: will forbeare (seeing you in -such a difference; for that which hath bin spoken alreadie) to use any -difficult discourse; but will speake of one, a man of no meane ranke -or quality, being both a valiant and vertuous King, and what he did, -without any impeach or blemish to his honor. - -I make no doubt, but you have often heard report, of king _Charles_ the -Aged, and first of that name, by reason of his magnificent enterprises, -as also his most glorious victory, which he obtaind against King -_Manfred_, when the _Ghibellines_ were expulsed foorth of _Florence_, -and the _Guelphes_ returned thither againe. By which occasion, an -ancient knight, named Signior _Neri degli Uberti_; forsaking then the -City, with all his family and great store of wealth, woulde live under -any other obedience, then the awful power or command of King _Charles_. -And coveting to be in some solitary place, where he might finish the -remainder of his dayes in peace, he went to _Castello da Mare_; where, -about a Bow shoote distance from all other dwelling houses, hee bought -a parcel of ground, plentifully stored with variety of Trees, bearing -Olives, Chesnuts, Orenges, Lemons, Pomcitrons, and other excellent -frutages, wherewith the Countrey flourisheth abundantly. There he -built a very faire and commodious house, and planted (close by it) a -pleasant Garden, in the middst whereof, because he had great plenty of -water: according as other men use to do, being in the like case so wel -provided; he made a very goodly Pond, which forthwith had all kinde of -Fish swimming in it, it being his daily care and endeavour**, to tend his -Garden, and encrease his Fish-pond. - -It fortuned, that King _Charles_ (in the Summer time) for his pleasure -and recreation, went to repose himselfe (for some certayne dayes) -at _Castello de Mare_, where having heard report of the beautie and -singularitie of Signiour _Neries_ Garden; hee grew very desirous to -see it. But when he understoode to whome it belonged, then he entred -into consideration with himselfe, that hee was an ancient Knight, -maintaining a contrarie faction to his: wherefore, he thought it -fit to goe in some familiar manner, and with no trayne attending on -him. Whereupon he sent him word, that he wold come to visit him, with -foure Gentlemen onely in his companie, meaning to sup with him in his -Garden the next night ensuing. The newes was very welcome to _Signior -Neri_, who took order in costly manner for all things to bee done, -entertaining the King most joyfully into his beautifull Garden. - -When the King had survayed all, and the house likewise, he commended -it beyond all other comparison, and the Tables being placed by the -Ponds side, he washed his hands therein, & then sat down at the table, -commanding the Count, Sir _Guy de Montforte_ (who was one of them which -came in his company) to sitte downe by him, and Signior _Neri_ on his -other side. As for the other three of the traine, hee commaunded them -to attend on his service, as Signior _Neri_ had given order. There -wanted no exquisite Viandes and excellent Wines, all performed in most -decent manner, and without the least noise or disturbance, wherein the -King tooke no little delight. - -Feeding thus in this contented manner, and facying the solitude of the -place: sodainly entred into the garden, two yong Damosels, each aged -about some fifteene yeares, their haire resembling wyars of Gold, and -curiously curled, having Chaplets (made like provinciall Crownes) on -their heades, and their delicate faces, expressing them to be rather -Angels, then mortall creatures, such was the appearance of their -admired beauty. Their under-garments were of costly Silke, yet white as -the finest snow, framed (from the girdle upward) close to their bodies, -but spreading largely downward, like the extendure of a Pavillion, and -so descending to the feet. She that first came in sight, caried on her -shoulder a couple of fishing Netts, which she held fast with her left -hand, and in the right she carryed a long staffe. The other following -her, had on her left shoulder a Frying-pan, and under the same arme a -small Faggot of woodde, with a Trevit in her hand; and in the other -hand a pot of Oyle, as also a brand of fire flaming. - -No sooner did the King behold them, but he greatly wondered what they -should be; and, without uttering one word, attended to listen what they -wold say. Both the yong damosels, when they were come before the King, -with modest and bashfull gesture, they performed very humble reverence -to him, and going to the place of entrance into the Pond, she who held -the Trevit, set it downe on the ground, with the other things also; and -taking the staffe which the other Damosell carried: they both went into -the Pond, the water whereof reached so high as to their bosomes. One of -the Servants to Signior _Neri_, presently kindled the fire, setting the -Trevit over it, and putting Oyle into the Frying-panne, held it uppon -the Trevit, awaiting untill the Damosels should cast him uppe Fish. One -of them did beate a place with the staffe, where she was assured of the -Fishes resort, and the other hadde lodged the Nets so conveniently, as -they quickly caught great store of Fish, to the Kings high contentment, -who observed their behaviour very respectively. - -As the Fishes were throwne up to the servant, alive as they were, he -tooke the best and fairest of them, and brought them to the Table, -where they skipt and mounted before the King, Count _Guy de Montfort_ -and the Father: some leaping from the Table into the Pond againe, and -others, the King (in a pleasing humour) voluntarily threw backe to -the Damosels. Jesting and sporting in this manner, till the servant -had drest divers of them in exquisite order, and served them to the -Table, according as Signior _Neri_ had ordained. When the Damosels -saw the Fishes service performed, and perceived that they had fished -sufficiently: they came forth of the water, their garments then (being -wet) hanging close about them, even as if they hid no part of their -bodies. Each having taken those things againe, which at first they -brought with them, and saluting the king in like humility as they did -before, returned home to the mansion house. - -The King and Count likewise, as also the other attending Gentlemen, -having duely considered the behavior of the Damosels: commended -extraordinarily their beauty and faire feature, with those other -perfections of Nature so gloriously shining in them. But (beyond -all the rest) the King was boundlesse in his praises given of them, -having observed their going into the water, the equall carriage there -of them both, their comming forth, and gracious demeanor at their -departing (yet neither knowing of whence, or what they were) he felt -his affection very violently flamed, and grew into such an amourous -desire to them both, not knowing which of them pleased him most, they -so choisely resembled one another in all things. - -But after he had dwelt long enough upon these thoughts, he turned -him selfe to Signior _Neri_, and demanded of him, what Damosels they -were. Sir (answered _Neri_) they are my Daughters, both brought into -the world at one birth, and Twinnes, the one being named _Genevera_ -the faire, and the other _Isotta_ the amiable. The King began againe -to commend them both, and gave him advise to get them both married: -wherein he excused himselfe, alleadging, that he wanted power to doe -it. At the same time instant, no other service remaining to be brought -to the table, except Fruit and Cheese, the two Damosels returned -againe, attyred in goodly Roabes of Carnation Sattin, formed after -the Turkish fashion, carrying two fayre Silver dishes in their hands, -filled with divers delicate Fruits, such as the season then afforded, -setting them on the Table before the King. Which being done, they -retyred a little backeward, and with sweet melodious voyces, sung a -ditty, beginning in this manner. - - _Where Love presumeth into place: - Let no one sing in Loves disgrace._ - -So sweet and pleasing seemed the Song to the King (who tooke no small -delight, both to heare and behold the Damosels) even as if all the -Hirarchies of Angels, were descended from the Heavens to sing before -him. No sooner was the Song ended, but (humbly on their knees) they -craved favour of the King for their departing. Now, although their -departure was greatly grieving to him, yet (in outward appearance) he -seemed willing to grant it. - -When Supper was concluded, and the King and his Company remounted -on horsebacke: thankefully departing from Signior _Neri_, the King -returned to his lodging, concealing there closely his affection to -himselfe, and whatsoever important affaires happened: yet he could -not forget the beauty, & gracious behaviour of _Genevera_ the faire -(for whose sake he loved her Sister likewise) but became so linked to -her in vehement manner, as he had no power to think on any thing else. -Pretending other urgent occasions, he fell into great familiarity with -Signior _Neri_, visiting very often his goodly Garden; onely to see his -faire Daughter _Genevera_, the Adamant which drew him thither. - -When he felt his amourous assaults, to exeed all power of longer -sufferance: he resolved determinately with himselfe, (being unprovided -of any better meanes) to take her away from her Father, and not onely -she, but her Sister also; discovering both his love and intent to Count -_Guy de Montforte_, who being a very worthy and vertuous Lord, and meet -to be a Counseller for a King, delivered his mind in this manner. - -Gracious Lord, I wonder not a little at your speeches, and so much -the greater is my admiration, because no man els can be subject to -the like, in regard I have knowne you from the time of your infancy; -even to this instant houre, and alwayes your carriage to bee one and -the same. I could never perceive in your youthfull dayes (when love -should have the greatest meanes to assaile you) any such oppressing -passions: which is now the more novell and strange to me, to heare it -but said, that you being old, and called the Aged; should be growne -amorous, surely to me it seemeth a miracle. And if it appertained to -me to reprehend you in this case, I know well enough what I could say. -Considering, you have yet your Armour on your backe, in a Kingdome -newly conquered, among a Nation not knowne to you, full of falsehoods, -breaches, and treasons; all which are no meane motives to care and -needfull respect. But having now wone a little leisure, to rest your -selfe a while from such serious affaires; can you give way to the -idle suggestions of Love? Beleeve me Sir, it is no act becomming a -magnanimious King; but rather the giddy folly of a young braine. - -Moreover you say (which most of all I mislike) that you intend to take -the two Virgines from the Knight, who hath given you entertainment in -his house beyond his ability, and to testifie how much he honoured you, -he suffered you to have a sight of them, meerely (almost) in a naked -manner: witnessing thereby, what constant faith he reposed in you, -beleeving verily, that you were a just King, and not a ravenous Woolfe. -Have you so soone forgot, that the rapes and violent actions, done by -King _Manfred_ to harmelesse Ladies, made your onely way of entrance -into this Kingdome? What treason was ever committed, more worthy of -eternall punishment, then this will be in you: to take away from him -(who hath so highly honoured you) his chiefest hope and consolation? -What will be said by all men, if you doe it? - -Peradventure you thinke, it will be a sufficient excuse for you, to -say: I did it, in regard hee was a _Ghibelline_. Can you imagine this -to be justice in a King, that such as get into their possession in this -manner (whatsoever it be) ought to use it in this sort? Let me tell you -Sir, it was a most worthy victory for you, to conquer King _Manfred_: -but it is farre more famous victory, for a man to conquer himselfe. -You therefore, who are ordained to correct vices in other men, learne -first to subdue them in your selfe, and (by brideling this inordinate -appetite) set not a foule blemish on so faire a fame, as will be honour -to you to preserve spotlesse. - -These words pierced the heart of the King deepely, and so much the more -afflicted him, because he knew them to be most true: wherefore, after -he had ventred a very vehement sigh, thus he replyed. Beleeve me noble -Count, there is not any enemy, how strong soever he be, but I hold him -weake and easie to be vanquished, by him who is skilfull in the warre, -where a man may learne to conquere his owne appetite. But because he -shall find it a laborious taske, requiring inestimable strength and -courage: your words have so toucht me to the quicke, that it becommeth -me to let you effectually perceive (and within the compasse of few -dayes) that as I have learned to conquer others, so I am not ignorant, -in expressing the like power upon my selfe. - -Having thus spoken, within some few dayes after, the King being -returned to _Naples_, he determined, as well to free himself from any -the like ensuing follie, as also to recompence Signior _Neri_, for the -great kindnesse he had shewne to him (although it was a difficult -thing, to let another enjoy, what he rather desired for himselfe) -to have the two Damosels married, not as the Daughters of Signior -_Neri_, but even as if they were his owne. And by consent of the -Father, he gave _Genevera_ the faire, to Signior _Maffeo da Pallizzi_, -and _Isotta_ the amiable, to Signior _Gulielmo della Magna_, two -Noble Knights and honourable Barons. After he had thus given them in -marriage, in sad mourning he departed thence into _Apuglia_, where -by following worthy and honourable actions, he so well overcame all -inordinate appetites: that shaking off the enthralling fetters of love, -he lived free from all passions, the rest of his life time, and dyed as -an honourable King. - -Some perhaps will say, it was a small matter for a King, to give away -two Damosels in marriage, and I confesse it: but I maintaine it to be -great, and more then great, if we say, that a King, being so earnestly -enamoured as this King was; should give her away to another, whom he -so dearely affected himselfe, without receiving (in recompence of his -affection) so much as a leaffe, flowre, or the least fruit of love. Yet -such was the vertue of this magnificent King, expressed in so highly -recompencing the noble Knights courtesie, honouring the two daughters -so royally, and conquering his owne affections so vertuously. - - - - -Lisana, _the Daughter of a Florentine Apothecary, named_ Bernardo -Puccino, _being at_ Palermo, _and seeing_ Piero, _King of_ Aragon -_run at the Tilt; fell so affectionately enamored of him, that she -languished in an extreame and long sickenesse. By her owne devise, -and means of a Song, sung in the hearing of the King: he vouchsafed -to visite her, and giving her a kisse, terming himselfe also to bee -her Knight for ever after, hee honourably bestowed her in marriage on -a young Gentleman, who was called_ Perdicano, _and gave him liberall -endowments with her._ - -The Seventh Novell. - -_Wherein is covertly given to understand, that howsoever a Prince may -make use of his absolute power and authority, towards Maides or Wives -that are his Subjects: yet he ought to deny and reject all things, as -shall make him forgetfull of himselfe, and his true honour._ - - -Madame _Fiammetta_ being come to the end of her Novell, and the great -magnificence of King _Charles_ much commended (howbeit, some of the -Company, affecting the _Ghibelline_ faction, were otherwise minded) -Madame _Pampinea_, by order given from the King, began in this manner. - -There is no man of good understanding (honourable Ladies) but will -maintaine what you have said of victorious _Charles_; except such as -cannot wish well to any. But because my memory hath instantly informed -me, of an action (perhaps) no lesse commendable then this, done by -an enemy of the said King _Charles_, and to a yong Maiden of our -City; I am the more willing to relate it, upon your gentle attention -vouchsafed, as hitherto it hath been courteously granted. - -At such time as the French were driven out of _Sicilie_, there dwelt at -_Palermo_ a _Florentine_ Apothecary, named _Bernardo Puccino_, a man of -good wealth and reputation, who had by his Wife one onely Daughter, of -marriageable yeares, and very beautifull. _Piero_, King of _Arragon_, -being then become Lord of that Kingdom, he made an admirable Feast -Royall at _Palermo_, accompanyed with his Lords and Barons. In honour -of which publique Feast, the King kept a triumphall day (of Justs and -Turnament) at _Catalana_, and whereat it chanced, that the Daughter of -_Bernardo_, named _Lisana_, was present. Being in a window, accompanied -with other Gentlewomen, she saw the King runne at the Tilt, who -seemed so goodly a person in her eye; that being never satisfied with -beholding him, she grew enamoured, and fell into extremity of affection -towards him. - -When the Feastivall was ended, she dwelling in the house of her Father, -it was impossible for her to thinke on any thing else, but onely -the love, which she had fixed on a person of such height. And that -which most tormented her in this case, was the knowledge of her owne -condition, being but meane and humble in degree; whereby she confessed, -that she could not hope for any successefull issue of her proud love. -Neverthelesse, she would not refraine from affecting the King, who -taking no note of this kindnesse in her, by any perceivable meanes; -must needs be the more regardles, which procured (by wary observation) -her afflictions to be the greater and intollerable. - -Whereon it came to passe, that this earnest love encreasing in her -more and more, and one melancholly conceit taking hold on another: the -faire Maide, when she could beare the burden of her griefe no longer; -fell into a languishing sickenesse, consuming away daily (by evident -appearance) even as the Snow melteth by the warme beames of the Sunne. - -The Father and Mother, much dismayed and displeased at this haplesse -accident, applying her with continuall comforts, Phisicke, and the best -skill remayning in all the Phisitions, sought all possible meanes wayes -to give her succour: but all proved to no effect, because in regard -of her choyce (which could sort to none other then a desperate end) -she was desirous to live no longer. Now it fortuned, that her parents -offering her whatsoever remained in their power to performe, a sudden -apprehension entred her minde, to wit, that (if it might possible be -done) before she dyed, she would first have the King to know, in what -manner she stood affected to him. Wherefore, one day she entreated her -Father, that a Gentleman, named _Manutio de Arezza_, might be permitted -to come see her. This _Manutio_ was (in those times) held to be a most -excellent Musitian, both for his voyce in singing, and exquisite skill -in playing on Instruments, for which he was highly in favour with King -_Piero_, who made (almost) daily use of him, to heare him both sing and -play. - -Her tender and loving father conceived immediately, that shee was -desirous to heare his playing and singing, both being comfortable to a -body in a languishing sickenesse, whereupon, he sent presently for the -Gentleman, who came accordingly, and after he had comforted _Lisana_ -with kind and courteous speeches; he played dexteriously on his Lute, -which purposely hee had brought with him, and likewise he sung divers -excellent Ditties, which insted of his intended consolation to the -Maid, did nothing else but encrease her fire and flame. - -Afterward, she requested to have some conference with _Manutio_ alone, -and every one being gone forth of the Chamber, she spake unto him in -this manner. - -_Manutio_, I have made choyce of thee, to be the faithfull Guardian of -an especial secret, hoping first of al, that thou wilt never reveale -it to any living body, but onely to him whom I shall bid thee: And -next, to helpe me so much as possibly thou canst, because my onely -hope relyeth in thee. Know then my dearest friend _Manutio_, that on -the solemne festivall day, when our Soveraigne Lord the King honoured -his exaltation, with the noble exercises of Tilt and Turney; his brave -behaviour kindled such a sparke in my soule, as since brake forth into -a violent flame, and brought me to this weake condition as now thou -seest. But knowing and confessing, how farre unbeseeming my love is, to -aime so ambitiously at a King, and being unable to controule it, or in -the least manner to diminish it: I have made choyce of the onely and -best remedy of all, namely, to dye, and so I am most willing to doe. - -True it is, that I shall travaile in this my latest journey, with -endlesse torment and affliction of soule, except he have some -understanding thereof before, and not knowing by whom to give him -intelligence, in so oft and convenient order, as by thee: I doe -therefore commit this last office of a friend to thy trust, desiring -thee, not to refuse me in the performance thereof. And when thou hast -done it, to let me understand what he saith, that I may dye the more -contentedly, and disburdened of so heavy an oppression, the onely -comfort to a parting spirit: and so she ceased, her teares flowing -forth abundantly. - -_Manutio_ did not a little wonder at the Maides great spirit, and her -desperate resolution, which moved him to exceeding commiseration, and -suddenly he conceived, that honestly he might discharge this duty for -her, whereupon, he returned her this answer. _Lisana_, here I engage -my faith to thee, that thou shalt find me firme and constant, and -die I will, rather then deceive thee. Greatly I doe commend thy high -attempt, in fixing thy affection on so Potent a King, wherein I offer -thee my utmost assistance: and I make no doubt (if thou wouldest be of -good comfort) to deale in such sort, as, before three dayes are fully -past, to bring such newes as will content thee, and because I am loath -to loose the least time, I will goe about it presently. _Lisana_ the -yong Maiden, once againe entreated his care and diligence, promising -to comfort her selfe so well as she could, commending him to his good -fortune. When _Manutio_ was gone from her, hee went to a Gentleman, -named _Mico de Sienna_, one of the best Poets in the composing of -verses, as all those parts yeelded not the like. At his request, _Mico_ -made for him this ensuing Dittie. - - -The Song sung in the hearing of King _Piero_, on the behalfe of -Love-sicke _Lisana._ - - - _Goe Love, and tell the torments I endure, - Say to my Soveraigne Lord, that I must die - Except he come, some comfort to procure, - For tell I may not, what I feele, and why._ - - _With heaved hands Great Love, I call to thee, - Goe see my Soveraigne, where he doth abide, - And say to him, in what extremity, - Thou hast (for him) my firm affection tryed. - To die for him, it is my sole desire, - For live with him I may not, nor aspire, - To have my fortunes thereby dignified, - Onely his sight would lend me life a while: - Grant it (great love) mine anguish to beguile. - Goe love and tell the torments, &c._ - - _Since the first houre that love enthralled me, - I never had the heart, to tell my griefe, - My thoughts did speake, for thoughts be alwayes free, - Yet hopefull thoughts doe find but poore reliefe. - When Gnats will mount to Eagles in the ayre, - Alas! they scorne them, for full well they know, - They were not bred to prey so base and low, - Aloft they look, to make their flight more faire. - And yet his sight would lend me life a while: - Grant it (great love) mine anguish to beguile. - Goe love, and tell the torments, &c._ - - _If sight shall be denyed, then tell them plaine, - His high triumphall day procurd my death, - The Launce that won him Honour, hath me slaine, - For instantly it did bereave my breath. - That speake I could not, nor durst be so bold, - To make the Ayre acquainted with my woe: - Alas! I lookt so high, and doing so, - Justly deserve by death to be controld. - Yet mercies sight would lend me life a while, - Grant it (great love) mine anguish to beguile._ - - _Goe love, and tell the torments I endure, - Say to my Soveraigne Lord, that I must die: - Except he come, some comfort to procure, - For tell I may not, what I feele, and why._ - -The lines contained in this Ditty, _Manutio_ fitted with noates so -mooving and singularly musicall, that every word had the sensible -motion of life in it, where the King being (as yet) not risen from the -Table, he commanded him to use both his Lute and voyce. - -This seemed a happy opportunity to _Manutio_, to sing the dittie so -purposely done and devised: which hee delivered in such excellent -manner, the voice and Instrument concording so extraordinary pleasing; -that all the persons then in the Presence, seemed rather Statues, then -living men, so strangely they were wrapt with admiration, and the King -himselfe farre beyond all the rest, transported with a rare kinde of -alteration. - -When _Manutio_ had ended the Song, the King demanded of him, whence -this Song came, because he had never heard it before? My gracious Lord, -answered _Manutio_, it must needes seeme straunge to your Majesty, -because it is not fully three dayes, since it was invented, made, and -set to the note. Then the King asked, whom it concerned? Sir (quoth -_Manutio_) I dare not disclose that to any but onely your selfe. Which -answer made the King much more desirous, and being risen from the -Table, he tooke him into his Bed-chamber, where _Manutio_ related all -at large to him, according to the trust reposed in him. Wherewith the -King was wonderfully well pleased, greatly commending the courage of -the Maide, and said, that a Virgin of such a valiant spirit, did well -deserve to have her case commiserated: and commanded him also, to goe -(as sent from him) and comfort her, with promise, that the very same -day, in the evening, he would not faile to come and see her. - -_Manutio_, more then contented, to carry such glad tydings to _Lisana_; -without staying in any place, and taking his Lute also with him, went -to the Apothecaries house, where speaking alone with the Maide: he -told her what he had done, and afterward sung the song to her, in as -excellent manner as he had done before, wherein _Lisana_ conceived such -joy and contentment, as even in the very same moment, it was observed -by apparant signes, that the violence of her fits forsooke her, and -health began to get the upper hand of them. So, without suffering any -one in the house to know it, or by the least meanes to suspect it; she -comforted her selfe till the evening, in expectation of her Soveraignes -arrivall. - -_Piero_ being a Prince, of most liberall and benigne nature, having -afterward divers times considered on the matters which _Manutio_ had -revealed to him, knowing also the yong Maiden, to bee both beautifull -and vertuous: was so much moved with pitty of her extremitie, as -mounting on horse-backe in the evening, and seeming as if he rode -abroad for his private recreation; he went directly to the Apothecaries -house, where desiring to see a goodly garden, appertaining then to the -Apothecarie, he dismounted from his horse. Walking into the garden, he -began to question with _Bernardo_, demaunding him for his Daughter, and -whether he had (as yet) marryed her, or no? My Gracious Lord, answered -_Bernardo_, as yet shee is not marryed, neither likely to bee, in -regard shee hath had a long and tedious sickenesse: but since Dinner -time, she is indifferently eased of her former violent paine, which we -could not discerne the like alteration in her, a long while before. - -The King understood immediately, the reason of this so sudden -alteration, and said. In good faith _Bernardo_, the world would -sustaine a great maine & imperfection, by the losse of thy faire -daughter; wherefore, we will goe our selfe in person to visite her. -So, with two of his Lords onely, and the Father, he ascended to the -Maides Chamber & being entred, he went to the Beds side, where she -sate, somewhat raised, in expectation of his comming, and taking her -by the hand, he said. Faire _Lisana_, how commeth this to passe? You -being so faire a Virgin, yong, and in the delicacy of your daies, which -should be the chiefest comfort to you, will you suffer your selfe to be -over-awed with sickenesse? Let us intreat you, that (for our sake) you -will be of good comfort, and thereby recover your health the sooner, -especially, when it is requested by a King, who is sorry to see so -bright a beauty sicke, and would helpe it, if it consisted in his power. - -_Lisana_, feeling the touch of his hand, whom she loved above all -things else in the world, although a bashfull blush mounted up into her -cheekes: yet her heart was seazed with such a rapture of pleasure, that -she thought her selfe translated into Paradise, and, so well as she -could, thus she replyed. Great King, by opposing my feeble strength, -against a burden of over-ponderous weight, it became the occasion of -this grievous sickenesse: but I hope that the violence thereof is -(almost) already kild, onely by this soveraigne mercy in you; and -doubtlesse it will cause my speedy deliverance. The King did best -understand this so well palliated answere of _Lisana_, which as he did -much commend, in regard of her high adventuring; so he did againe as -greatly condemne Fortune, for not making her more happy in her birth. - -So, after he had stayed there a good while, and given her many -comfortable speeches, he returned backe to the Court. This humanity -in the King, was reputed a great honour to the Apothecary and his -daughter, who (in her owne mind) received as much joy and contentment -thereby, as ever any wife could have of her owne Husband. - -And being assisted by better hopes, within a short while after, she -became recovered, and farre more beautifull (in common judgment) then -ever she was before. - -_Lisana_ being now in perfect health, the King consulted with his -Queene, what meete recompence he should gratifie her withall, -for loving and affecting him in such fervent manner. Upon a day -determined, the King mounting on horsebacke, accompanied with many of -his cheefest Lords and Barons, he rode to the Apothecaries house, where -walking in his beautifull Garden, hee called for _Bernardo_ and his -daughter _Lisana_. In the meane space, the Queene also came thither, -Royally attended on by her Ladies, and _Lisana_ being admitted into -their company, they expressed themselves very gracious to her. Soone -after, the King and the Queene cald _Lisana_, and the King spake in -this manner to her. - -Faire Virgin, the extraordinary love which you bare to us, calleth for -as great honour from us to you; in which respect, it is our Royall -desire, by one meanes or other to requite your kinde Love. In our -opinion, the chiefe honour we can extend to you, is, that being of -sufficient yeares for marriage, you would grace us so much, as to -accept him for your Husband, whom we intend to bestow on you. Beside -this further grant from us, that (notwithstanding whatsoever else) you -shall call us your Knight; without coveting any thing else from you, -for so great favour, but only one kisse, and thinke not to bestow it -nicely on a King, but grant it the rather, because he begges it. - -_Lisana_, whose lookes, were dyed with a vermillian tincture, or rather -converted into a pure maiden blush, reputing the Kings desire to be her -owne; in a low and humbled voyce, thus answered. My Lord, most certaine -am I, that if it had beene publikely knowne, how none but your highnes, -might serve for me to fixe my love on, I should have been termed the -foole of all fooles: they perhaps beleeving, that I was forgetfull of -my selfe, in being ignorant of mine owne condition, and much lesse of -yours. But the Gods are my witnesses (because they know the secrets -of all hearts) that even in the very instant, when Loves fire tooke -hold on my yeelding affection: I knew you to be a King, and my selfe -the daughter of poore _Bernardo_ the Apothecary: likewise, how farre -unfitting it was for me, to be so ambitious in my loves presuming. -But I am sure your Majestie doth know (much better then I am able to -expresse) that no one becommeth amourous, according to the duty of -election, but as the appetite shapeth his course, against whose lawes -my strength made many resistances, which not prevailing, I presumed to -love, did, and so for ever shall doe, your Majestie. - -Now Royall Soveraigne, I must needes confesse, that so soone as I -felt my selfe thus wholly conquered by loving you, I resolved for -ever after, to make your will mine owne, and therefore, am not onely -willing to accept him for my Husband, whom you shall please to appoint, -befitting my honor and degree: but if you will have me to live in a -flaming fire, my obedience shall sacrifice it selfe to your will, with -the absolute conformity of mine owne. To stile you by the name of my -Knight, whom I know to be my lawfull King and Soveraigne; you are not -ignorant, how farre unfitting a word that were for me to use: As also -the kisse which you request, in requitall of my love to you; to these -two I will never give consent, without the Queenes most gracious favour -and license first granted. Neverthelesse, for such admirable benignity -used to me, both by your Royall selfe, and your vertuous Queene: heaven -shower downe all boundlesse graces on you both, for it exceedeth all -merit in me, and so she ceased speaking, in most dutifull manner. - -The answer of _Lisana_ pleased the Queene exceedingly, in finding -her to be so wise and faire, as the King himself had before informed -her: who instantly called for her Father and Mother, and knowing -they would be well pleased with whatsoever he did; he called for a -proper yong Gentleman, but some what poore, being named _Perdicano_, -and putting certaine Rings into his hand, which he refused not to -receive, caused him there to espouse _Lisana_. To whome the King -gave immediately (besides Chaines and Jewels of inestimable valew, -delivered by the Queene to the Bride) _Ceffala_ and _Calatabelotta_, -two great territories abounding in divers wealthy possessions, saying -to _Perdicano_. These wee give thee, as a dowry in marriage with this -beautifull Maid, and greater gifts we will bestow on thee hereafter, as -we shall perceive thy love and kindnesse to her. - -When he had ended these words, hee turned to _Lisana_, saying: Heere -doe I freely give over all further fruits of your affection towards -me, thanking you for your former love: so taking her head betweene -his hands, he kissed her faire forhead, which was the usuall custome -in those times. _Perdicano_, the Father and Mother of _Lisana_, and -she her selfe likewise, extraordinarily joyfull for this so fortunate -a marriage, returned humble and hearty thankes both to the King and -Queene, and (as many credible Authors doe affirme) the King kept his -promise made to _Lisana_, because (so long as he lived) he alwaies -termed himselfe by the name of her Knight, and in al actions of -Chivalry by him undertaken, he never carried any other devise, but such -as he received still from her. - -By this, and divers other like worthy deeds, not onely did he win -the hearts of his subjects; but gave occasion to the whole world -beside, to renowne his fame to all succeeding posterity. Whereto (in -these more wretched times of ours) few or none bend the sway of their -understanding: but rather how to bee cruell and tyrranous Lords, and -thereby win the hatred of their people. - - - - -Sophronia, _thinking her selfe to be the maried wife of_ Gisippus, -_was (indeed) the wife of_ Titus Quintus Fulvius, _& departed thence -with him to Rome. Within a while after,_ Gisippus _also came thither -in very poore condition, and thinking that he was despised by_ Titus, -_grew weary of his life, and confessed that he had murdred a man, with -full intent to die for the fact. But_ Titus _taking knowledge of him, -and desiring to save the life of_ Gisippus, _charged himself to have -done the bloody deed. Which the murderer himself (standing then among -the multitude) seeing, truly confessed the deed. By meanes whereof, all -three were delivered by the Emperor_ Octavius; _and_ Titus _gave his -Sister in mariage to_ Gisippus, _giving them also the most part of his -goods & inheritances._ - -The eight Novell. - -_Declaring, that notwithstanding the frownes of Fortune, diversity of -occurrences, and contrary accidents happening: yet love and friendship -ought to be preciously preserved among men._ - - -By this time Madam _Philomena_, at command of the King, (Madam -_Pampinea_ ceasing) prepared to follow next in order, whereupon thus -she began. What is it (Gracious Ladies) that Kings can not do (if they -list) in matters of greatest importance, and especially unto such as -most they should declare their magnificence? He then that performeth -what he ought to do, when it is within his owne power, doth well. -But it is not so much to bee admired, neither deserveth halfe the -commendations, as when one man doth good to another, when least it -is expected, as being out of his power, and yet performed. In which -respect, because you have so extolled king _Piero_, as appearing not -meanly meritorious in your judgements; I make no doubt but you will be -much more pleased, when the actions of our equals are duly considered, -and shall paralell any of the greatest Kings. Wherefore I purpose to -tell you a Novel, concerning an honorable curtesie of two worthy -friends. - -At such time as _Octavius Cæsar_ (not as yet named _Augustus_, but only -in the office called _Triumveri_) governed the _Romane_ Empire, there -dwelt in _Rome_ a Gentleman, named _Publius Quintus Fulvius_, a man -of singular understanding, who having one son, called _Titus Quintus -Fulvius_, of towardly yeares and apprehension, sent him to _Athens_ to -learne Philosophy; but with letters of familiar commendations, to a -Noble _Athenian_ Gentleman, named _Chremes_, being his ancient friend, -of long acquaintance. This Gentleman lodged _Titus_ in his owne House, -as companion to his son, named _Gisippus_, both of them studying -together, under the tutoring of a Philosopher, called _Aristippus_. -These two yong Gentlemen living thus in one Citty, House, and Schoole, -it bred betweene them such a brother-hoode and amity, as they could -not be severed from one another; but only by the accident of death; -nor could either of them enjoy any content, but when they were both -together in company. - -Being each of them endued with gentle spirits, and having begun their -studies together: they arose (by degrees) to the glorious height of -Philosophy, to their much admired fame and commendation. In this manner -they lived, to the no meane comfort of _Chremes_, hardly distinguishing -the one from the other for his Son, & thus the Scholars continued -the space of three yeares. At the ending whereof (as it hapneth in al -things else) _Chremes_ died, whereat both the young Gentlemen conceived -such hearty griefe, as if he had bin their common father; nor could -the kinred of _Chremes_ discerne, which of the two had most need of -comfort, the losse touched them so equally. - -It chanced within some few months after, that the kinred of _Gisippus_ -came to see him, and (before _Titus_) avised him to marriage, and with -a yong Gentlewoman of singular beauty, derived from a most noble house -in _Athens_, and she named _Sophronia_, aged about fifteen years. This -mariage drawing neere, _Gisippus_ on a day, intreated _Titus_ to walk -along with him thither, because (as yet) he had not seene her. Comming -to the house, and she sitting in the midst betweene them, _Titus_ -making himselfe a considerator of beauty, & especially on his friends -behalfe; began to observe her very judicially, & every part of her -seemed so pleasing in his eie, that giving them al a privat praise, yet -answerable to their due deserving; he becam so enflamed with affection -to her, as never any lover could bee more violentlie surprized, so -sodainly doth beauty beguile our best senses. - -After they had sate an indifferent while with her, they returned home -to their lodging, where _Titus_ being alone in his chamber, began to -bethink himselfe on her, whose perfections had so powerfully pleased -him: and the more he entred into this consideration, the fiercer -he felt his desires enflamed, which being unable to quench, by any -reasonable perswasions, after hee had vented foorth infinite sighes, -thus he questioned with himselfe. - -Most unhappie _Titus_ as thou art, whether doost thou transport thine -understanding, love, and hope? Dooest thou not know as well by the -honourable favours, which thou hast received of _Chremes_ and his -house, as also the intire amity betweene thee and _Gisippus_ (unto -whom faire _Sophronia_ is the affianced friend) that thou shouldst -holde her in the like reverent respect, as if shee were thy true borne -Sister? Darest thou presume to fancie her? Whether shall beguiling Love -allure thee, and vaine immaging hopes carrie thee? Open the eyes of thy -better understanding, and acknowledge thy selfe to bee a most miserable -man. Give way to reason, bridle thine intemperate appetites, reforme -all irregulare desires, and guide thy fancy to a place of better -direction. Resist thy wanton and lascivious will in the beginning, and -be master of thy selfe, while thou hast opportunity, for that which -thou aimest at, is neither reasonable nor honest. And if thou wert -assured to prevaile upon this pursuite, yet thou oughtst to avoide it, -if thou hast any regard of true friendship, and the duty therein justly -required. What wilt thou do then _Titus_? Fly from this inordinate -affection, if thou wilt be reputed to be a man of sensible judgement. - -After he had thus discoursed with himselfe, remembring _Sophronia_, -and converting his former allegations, into a quite contrarie sense, -in utter detestation of them, and guided by his idle appetite, thus -he began againe. The lawes of love are of greater force, then any -other whatsoever, they not only breake the bands of friendship, but -even those also of more divine consequence. How many times hath it bin -noted, the father to affect his own daughter, the brother his sister, -and the stepmother her son in law, matters far more monstrous, then to -see one friend love the wife of another, a case happening continually? -Moreover, I am yong, and youth is wholly subjected to the passions of -Love: is it reasonable then, that those should be bard from me, which -are fitting and pleasing to Love? Honest things, belong to men of more -years and maturity, then I am troubled withall, and I can covet none, -but onely those wherein Love is directer. The beauty of _Sophronia_ is -worthy of generall love, and if I that am a yongman do love her, what -man living can justly reprove me for it? Shold not I love her, because -she is affianced to _Gisippus_? That is no matter to me, I ought to -love her, because she is a woman, and women were created for no other -occasion, but to bee Loved. Fortune had sinned in this case, and not -I, in directing my friends affection to her, rather then any other; and -if she ought to be loved, as her perfections do challenge, _Gisippus_ -understanding that I affect her, may be the better contented that it is -I, rather then any other. - -With these, and the like crosse entercourses, he often mockt himselfe, -falling into the contrary, and then to this againe, and from the -contrary, into another kind of alteration, wasting and consuming -himselfe, not only this day and the night following, but many more -afterward, till he lost both his feeding & sleepe, so that through -debility of body, he was constrained to keepe his bed. _Gisippus_, who -had divers dayes noted his melancholly disposition, and now his falling -into extreamitie of sicknesse, was very sorry to behold it: and with -all meanes and inventions he could devise to use, hee both questioned -the cause of this straunge alteration, and essayed everie way, how -hee might best comfort him, never ceassing to demaunde a reason, why -he should become thus sad and sickely. But _Titus_ after infinite -importuning, which still he answered with idle and frivolous excuses, -farre from the truth indeede, and (to the no meane affliction of his -friend) when he was able to use no more contradictions; at length, in -sighes and teares, thus he replyed. - -_Gisippus_, were the Gods so wel pleased, I could more gladly yeild to -dye, then continue any longer in this wretched life, considering, that -Fortune hath brought mee to such an extremity, as proofe is now to be -made of my constancie and vertue; both which I finde conquered in me, -to my eternall confusion and shame. But my best hope is, that I shall -shortly be requited, as I have in justice deserved, namely with death, -which will be a thousand times more welcome to me, then a loathed life, -with remembrance of my base dejection in courage, which because I can -no longer conceale from thee; not without blushing shame, I am well -contented for to let thee know it. - -Then began hee to recount, the whole occasion of this straunge conflict -in him, what a maine battaile hee had with his private thoughts, -confessing that they got the victory, causing him to die hourely -for the love of _Sophronia_, and affirming withall, that in due -acknowledgement, how greatly hee had transgressed against the lawes of -friendship, he thought no other penance sufficient for him, but onely -death, which he willingly expected every houre, and with all his heart -would gladly bid welcome. - -_Gisippus_ hearing this discourse, and seeing how _Titus_ bitterly -wept, in agonies of most moving afflictions: sat an indifferent while -sad and pensive, as being wounded with affection to _Sophronia_, but -yet in a well-governed and temperate manner. So, without any long -delaying, hee concluded with himselfe; that the life of his friend -ought to be accounted much more deare, then any love hee could beare -unto _Sophronia_: And in this resolution, the teares of _Titus_ forcing -his eyes to flow forth like two Fountaines, thus he replyed. - -_Titus_, if thou hadst not neede of comfort, as plainly I see thou -hast, I would justly complaine of thee to my selfe, as of the man who -hath violated our friendship, in keeping thine extreamitie so long -time concealed from mee, which hath beene over-tedious for thee to -endure. And although it might seeme to thee a dishonest case, and -therefore kept from the knowledge of thy friend, yet I plainly tell -thee, that dishonest courses (in the league of amitie) deserve no more -concealment, then those of the honestest nature. But leaving these -impertinent wandrings, let us come to them of much greater necessitie. - -If thou doest earnestly love faire _Sophronia_, who is betroathed -and affianced to me, it is no matter for me to marvaile at: but I -should rather be much abashed, if thou couldst not intyrely affect -her, knowing how beautifull she is, and the nobility of her minde, -being as able to sustaine passion, as the thing pleasing is fullest -of excellence. And looke how reasonably thou fanciest _Sophronia_, as -unjustly thou complainest of thy fortune, in ordaining her to be my -wife, although thou doest not speake it expresly: as being of opinion, -that thou mightest with more honesty love her, if she were any others, -then mine. But if thou art so wise, as I have alwayes held thee to be, -tell me truely upon thy faith, to whom could Fortune better guide her, -and for which thou oughtest to be more thankfull, then in bestowing her -on me? Any other that had enjoyed her, although thy love were never -so honest, yet he would better affect her himselfe, then for thee, -which thou canst not (in like manner) looke for from me, if thou doest -account me for thy friend, and as constant now as ever. - -Reason is my warrant in this case, because I cannot remember, since -first our entrance into friendship, that ever I enjoyed any thing, -but it was as much thine, as mine. And if our affaires had such an -equall course before, as otherwise they could not subsist; must they -not now be kept in the same manner? Can any thing more perticularly -appertaine to me, but thy right therein is as absolute as mine? I -know not how thou maist esteeme of my friendship, if in any thing -concerning my selfe, I can plead my priviledge to be above thine. True -it is, that _Sophronia_ is affianced to me, and I love her dearely, -daily expecting when our nuptials shall be celebrated. But seeing thou -doest more fervently affect her, as being better able to judge of the -perfections, remaining in so excellent a creature as she is, then I -doe: assure thy selfe, and beleeve it constantly, that she shall come -to my bed, not as my wife, but onely thine. And therefore leave these -despairing thoughts, shake off this cloudy disposition, reassume thy -former Joviall spirit, with comfort and what else can content thee: in -expectation of the happy houre, and the just requitall of thy long, -loving, and worthy friendship, which I have alwayes valued equall with -mine owne life. - -_Titus_ hearing this answer of _Gisippus_, looke how much the sweet -hope of that which he desired gave him pleasure, as much both duty -and reason affronted him with shame; setting before his eyes this du -consideration, that the greater the liberality of _Gisippus_ was, farre -greater and unreasonable it appeared to him in disgrace, if hee should -unmannerly accept it. Wherefore, being unable to refrain from teares, -and with such strength as his weaknesse would give leave, thus he -replyed. - -_Gisippus_, thy bounty and firme friendship suffereth me to see -apparantly, what (on my part) is no more then ought to be done. All -the Gods forbid, that I should receive as mine, her whom they have -adjudged to be thine, by true respect of birth and desert. For if they -had thought her a wife fit for me, doe not thou or any else imagine, -that ever she should have beene granted to thee. Use freely therefore -thine owne election, and the gracious favour wherewith they have -blessed thee: leave me to consume away in teares, a mourning garment -by them appointed for me, as being a man unworthy of such happinesse; -for either I shall conquer this disaster, and that will be my crowne, or -else will vanquish me, and free me from all paine: whereto _Gisippus_ -presently thus answered. - -Worthy _Titus_, if our amity would give me so much licence, as but to -contend with my selfe, in pleasing thee with such a thing as I desire, -and could also induce thee therein to be directed: it is the onely end -whereat I aime, and am resolved to pursue it. In which regard, let my -perswasions prevaile with thee, and thereto I conjure thee, by the -faith of a friend, suffer me to use mine authority, when it extendeth -both to mine owne honour, and thy good, for I will have _Sophronia_ -to bee onely thine. I know sufficiently, how farre the forces of love -doe extend in power, and am not ignorant also, how not once or twice, -but very many times, they have brought lovers to unfortunate ends, -as now I see thee very neere it, and so farre gone, as thou art not -able to turne backe againe, nor yet to conquer thine owne teares, but -proceeding on further in this extremity, thou wilt be left vanquished, -sinking under the burthen of loves tyrannicall oppression, and then my -turne is next to follow thee. And therefore, had I no other reason to -love thee, yet because thy life is deare to me, in regard of mine owne -depending thereon; I stand the neerer thereto obliged. For this cause, -_Sophronia_ must and shall be thine, for thou canst not find any other -so conforme to thy fancy: albeit I who can easily convert my liking to -another wife, but never to have the like friend againe, shall hereby -content both thee, and my selfe. - -Yet perhaps this is not a matter so easily done, or I to expresse -such liberality therein, if wives were to be found with the like -difficultie, as true and faithfull friends are: but, (being able to -recover another wife) though never such a worthy friend; I rather -chuse to change, I doe not say loose her (for in giving her to thee, I -loose her not my selfe) and by this change, make that which was good -before, tenne times better, and so preserve both thee and my selfe. To -this end therefore, if my prayers and perswasions have any power with -thee, I earnestly entreat thee, that, by freeing thy selfe out of this -affliction, thou wilt (in one instant) make us both truely comforted, -and dispose thy selfe (living in hope) to embrace that happinesse, -which the fervent love thou bearest to _Sophronia_, hath justly -deserved. - -Now although _Titus_ was confounded with shame, to yeeld consent, that -_Sophronia_ should be accepted as his wife, and used many obstinate -resistances: yet notwithstanding, Love pleading on the one side -powerfully, and _Gisippus_ as earnestly perswading on the other, -thus he answered. _Gisippus_, I know not what to say, neither how -to behave my selfe in this election, concerning the fitting of mine -contentment, or pleasing thee in thy importunate perswasion. But seeing -thy liberality is so great, as it surmounteth all reason or shame in -me, I will yeeld obedience to thy more then noble nature. Yet let this -remaine for thine assurance, that I doe not receive this grace of -thine, as a man not sufficiently understanding, how I enjoy from thee, -not onely her whom most of all I doe affect, but also doe hold my very -life of thee. Grant then you greatest Gods (if you be the Patrones of -this mine unexpected felicitie) that with honor and due respect, I may -hereafter make apparantly knowne: how highly I acknowledge this thy -wonderfull favour, in being more mercifull to me, then I could be to my -selfe. - -For abridging of all further circumstances, answered _Gisippus_, and -for easier bringing this matter to full effect, I hold this to be -our onely way. It is not unknowne to thee, how after much discourse -had between my kindred, and those belonging to _Sophronia_, the -matrimoniall conjunction was fully agreed on, and therefore, if now -I shall flye off, and say, I will not accept thee as my wife: great -scandall would arise thereby, and make much trouble among our friends, -which could not be greatly displeasing to me, if that were the way to -make her thine. But I rather stand in feare, that if I forsake her in -such peremptory sort, her kinred and friends will bestow her on some -other, and so she is utterly lost, without all possible meanes of -recovery. For prevention therefore of all sinister accidents, I thinke -it best, (if thy opinion jumpe with mine) that I still pursue the -busines, as already I have begun, having thee alwaies in my company, -as my dearest friend and onely associate. The nuptials being performed -with our friends, in secret manner at night (as we can cunningly enough -contrive it) thou shalt have her maiden honour in bed, even as if -she were thine owne wife. Afterward, in apt time and place, we will -publiquely make knowne what is done; if they take it well, we will be -as jocond as they: if they frowne and waxe offended, the deed is done, -over-late to be recalled, and so perforce they must rest contented. - -You may well imagine, this advise was not a little pleasing to _Titus_, -whereupon _Gisippus_ received home _Sophronia_ into his house, with -publike intention to make her his wife, according as was the custome -then observed, and _Titus_ being perfectly recovered, was present at -the Feast very ceremonially observed. When night was come, the Ladies -and Gentlewomen conducted _Sophronia_ to the Bride-Chamber, where they -left her in her Husbands bed, and then departed all away. The Chamber -wherein _Titus_ used to lodge, joyned close to that of _Gisippus_, for -their easier accesse each to the other, at all times whensoever they -pleased, and _Gisippus_ being alone in the Bride-Chamber, preparing as -if he were comming to bed: extinguishing the light, he went softly to -_Titus_, willing him to goe to bed to his wife. Which _Titus_ hearing, -overcome with shame and feare, became repentant, and denyed to goe. But -_Gisippus_, being a true intyre friend indeed, and confirming his words -with actions: after a little lingring dispute, sent him to the Bride, -and so soone as he was in the bed with her, taking _Sophronia_ gently -by the hand, softly he moved the usuall question to her, namely, if she -were willing to be his wife. - -She beleeving verily that he was _Gisippus_, modestly answered. Sir, I -have chosen you to be my Husband, reason requires then, that I should -be willing to be your Wife. At which words, a costly Ring, which -_Gisippus_ used daily to weare, he put upon her finger, saying. With -this Ring, I confesse my selfe to be your Husband, and bind you (for -ever) my Spouse and Wife; no other kind of marriage was observed in -those dayes; and so he continued all the night with her, she never -suspecting him to be any other then _Gisippus_, and thus was the -marriage consumated, betweene _Titus_ and _Sophronia_, albeit the -friends (on either side) thought otherwise. - -By this time, _Publius_, the father of _Titus_, was departed out of -this mortall life, & letters came to _Athens_, that with all speed he -should returne to _Rome_, to take order for occasions there concerning -him, wherefore he concluded with _Gisippus_ about his departure, and -taking _Sophronia_ thither with him, which was no easie matter to be -done, until it were first known, how occasions had bin caried among -them. Whereupon, calling her one day into her Chamber, they told her -entirely, how all had past, which _Titus_ confirmed substantially, by -such direct passages betweene themselves, as exceeded all possibility -of denyall, and moved in her much admiration; looking each on other -very discontentedly, she heavily weeping and lamenting, & greatly -complaining of _Gisippus_, for wronging her so unkindly. - -But before any further noyse was made in the house, shee went to -her Father, to whom, as also to her Mother, shee declared the whole -trecherie, how much both they and their other friends were wronged by -_Gisippus_, avouching her selfe to be the wife of _Titus_, and not -of _Gisippus_, as they supposed. These newes were highly displeasing -to the Father of _Sophronia_, who with hir kinred, as also those -of _Gisippus_, made great complaints to the Senate, very dangerous -troubles and commotions arising daily betweene them, drawing both -_Gisippus_ and _Sophronia_ into harsh reports; he being generally -reputed, not onely worthy of all bitter reproofe, but also the severest -punishment. Neverthelesse, hee maintained publikely what he had -done, avouching it for an act both of honour and honestie, wherewith -_Sophronia's_ friends had no reason to bee offended, but rather to take -it in very thankfull part, having married a man of farre greater worth -and respect, than himselfe was, or could be. - -On the other side, _Titus_ hearing these uncivill acclamations, became -much moved and provoked at them, but knowing it was a custome observed -among the _Greekes_, to be so much the more hurried away with rumours -and threatnings, as lesse they finde them to be answered, and when they -finde them, shew themselves not onely humble enough, but rather as base -men, and of no courage; he resolved with himselfe, that their braveries -were no longer to be endured, without some some bold and manly -answere. And having a Romane heart, as also an Athenian understanding, -by politique perswasions, he caused the kinred of _Gisippus_ and -_Sophronia_, to be assembled in a Temple, and himselfe comming thither, -accompanied with none but _Gisippus_ onely, he began to deliver his -minde before them all, in this manner following. - - The Oration uttered by _Titus Quintus Fulvius_, in the hearing of the - Athenians, being the kinred and friends to _Gisippus_ and _Sophronia_. - - - _Many Philosophers doe hold opinion, that the actions performed by - mortall men, doe proceed from the disposing and ordination of the - immortall gods. Whereupon some doe maintaine, that things which be - done, or never are to be done, proceed of necessity: howbeit some - other doe hold, that this necessity is onely referred to things done. - Both which opinions (if they be considered with mature judgment) doe - most manifestly approve, that they who reprehend any thing which is - irrevocable, doe nothing else but shew themselves, as if they were - wiser then the Gods, who we are to beleeve, that with perpetuall - reason, and void of any error, doe dispose and governe both us, and - all our actions; In which respect, how foolish and beast-like a thing - it is, presumptuously to checke or controule their operations, you may - very easily consider; and likewise, how justly they deserve condigne - punishment, who suffer themselves to be transported in so temerarious - a manner._ - - _In which notorious transgression, I understand you all to be guiltie, - if common fame speake truely, concerning the marriage of my selfe - and_ Sophronia, _whom you imagined as given to_ Gisippus; _for you - never remember that it was so ordained from eternitie, shee to be - mine, and no Wife for_ Gisippus, _as at this instant is made manifest - by full effect. But because the kinde of speaking, concerning divine - providence, and intention of the Gods, may seeme a difficult matter - to many, and somewhat hard to bee understood: I am content to - presuppose, that they meddle not with any thing of ours, and will - onely stay my selfe on humane reasons, and in this nature of speech, - I shall be enforced to doe two things, quite contrary to my naturall - disposition. The one is, to speake somewhat in praise and commendation - of my selfe: And the other, justly to blame and condemne other mens - seeming estimation. But because both in the one and the other, I doe - not intend to swerve a jot from the Truth, and the necessitie of the - present case in question, doth not onely require, but also command it, - you must pardon what I am to say._ - - _Your complaints doe proceed, rather from furie then reason, and (with - continuall murmurings, or rather seditious) slander, backe-bite - and condemne_ Gisippus, _because (of his owne free will and noble - disposition) hee gave her to be my Wife, whom (by your election) was - made his; wherein I account him most highly praise-worthy: and the - reasons inducing mee thereunto, are these. The first, because he hath - performed no more then what a friend ought to doe: And the second, in - regard he hath dealt more wisely, then you did. I have no intention, - to display (at this present) what the sacred law of amitie requireth, - to be acted by one friend towards another, it shall suffice mee onely - to informe you, that the league of friendship (farre stronger then the - bond of bloud and kinred) confirmed us in our election of either at - the first, to be true, loyall and perpetuall friends; whereas that of - kinred, commeth onely by fortune or chance. And therefore if_ Gisippus - _affected more my life, then your benevolence, I being ordained for - his friend, as I confesse my selfe to be; none of you ought to wonder - thereat, in regard it is no matter of mervaile._ - - _But let us come now to our second reason, wherein, with farre greater - instance I will shew you, that he hath (in this occasion) shewen - himselfe to be much more wise, then you did, or have done: because - it plainely appeareth, that you have no feeling of the divine - providence, and much lesse knowledge in the effects of friendship. I - say, that your foresight, councell and deliberation, gave_ Sophronia - _to_ Gisippus, _a yong Gentleman, and a Philosopher:_ Gisippus - _likewise hath given her to a yong Gentleman, and a Philosopher, as - himselfe is. Your discretion gave her to an Athenian; the gift of_ - Gisippus_, is to a Romaine. Yours, to a Noble and honest man; that - of_ Gisippus, _to one more Noble by race, and no lesse honest then - himselfe. Your judgement hath bestowed her on a rich young man:_ - Gisippus _hath given her to one farre richer. Your wisedome gave her - to one who not onely loved her not, but also one that had no desire to - know her:_ Gisippus _gave her unto him, who, above all felicitie else, - yea, more than his owne life, both entirely loved and desired her._ - - _Now, for proofe of that which I have said, to be most true and - infallible, and that his deede deserveth to bee much more commended - then yours, let it bee duely considered on, point by point. That I - am a young man and a Philosopher, as_ Gisippus _is; my yeares, face, - and studies, without seeking after further proofe, doth sufficiently - testifie: One selfe-same age is both his and mine, in like quality of - course have wee lived and studied together. True it is, that hee is - an Athenian, and I am a Romaine. But if the glory of these two Cities - should bee disputed on: then let mee tell you, that I am of a Citie - that is Francke and Free, and hee is of a Tributarie Citie. I say, - that I am of a Citie, which is chiefe Lady and Mistresse of the whole - World, and hee is of a Citie subject to mine. I say that I am of a - Citie, that is strong in Arms, Empire, and studies: whereas his can - commend it selfe but for Studies onely. And although you see me heere - to bee a Scholler, in appearance meane enough, yet I am not descended - of the simplest stocke in Rome._ - - _My houses and publique places, are filled with the ancient Statues of - my Predecessors, and the Annales recorde the infinite triumphs of the - Quintii, brought home by them into the Romane Capitole, and yeares - cannot eate out the glory of our name, but it will live and flourish - to all posteritie._ - - _Modest shame makes me silent in my wealth and possessions, my minde - truely telling mee, that honest contented povertie, is the most - ancient and richest inheritance, of our best and Noblest Romanes, - which opinion, if it bee condemned by the understanding of the - ignorant multitude, and heerein wee shall give way to them by - preferring riches and worldly treasures, then I can say that I am - aboundantly provided, not as ambitious, or greedily covetous, but - sufficiently stored with the goods of Fortune._ - - _I know well enough, that you held it as a desired benefit,_ Gisippus - _being a Native of your Citie, should also be linked to you by - alliance: but I know no reason, why I should not be as neere and deere - to you at Rome, as if I lived with you heere. Considering, when I am - there, you have a ready and well wishing friend, to stead you in all - beneficiall and serviceable offices, as carefull and provident for - your support, yea, a protectour of you and your affaires, as well - publique as particular. Who is it then, not transported with partiall - affection, that can (in reason) more approve your act, then that - which my friend_ Gisippus _hath done? Questionlesse, not any one, as - I thinke._ Sophronia _is married to_ Titus Quintus Fulvius, _a Noble - Gentleman by antiquitie, a rich Citizen of Rome, and (which is above - all) the friend of_ Gisippus: _therefore, such a one as thinkes it - strange, is sorrie for it, or would not have it to be; knoweth not - what he doth._ - - _Perhaps there may be some, who will say, they doe not so much - complain, that_ Sophronia _is the wife to_ Titus; _but of the manner - whereby it was done, as being made his wife secretly, and by theft, - not any of her parents, kinred or friends called thereto: no, nor - so much as advertised thereof. Why Gentlemen, this is no miraculous - thing, but heeretofore hath oftentimes happened, and therefore no - noveltie._ - - _I cannot count unto you, how many there have beene, who (against the - will of their Fathers) have made choice of their husbands; nor them - that have fled away with their lovers into strange Countries, being - first friends, before they were wives: nor of them who have sooner - made testimonie of marriage by their bellies, then those ceremonies - due to matrimonie, or publication thereof by the tongue; so that meere - necessity & constraint, hath forced the parents to yeeld consent: - which hath not so happened to_ Sophronia, _for she was given to me by_ - Gisippus _discreetly, honestly, and orderly._ - - _Others also may say, that shee is married to him, to whom it belonged - not to marrie her. These complaints are foolish, and womanish, - proceeding from verie little, or no consideration at all. In these - daies of ours, Fortune makes no use of novell or inconsiderate meanes, - whereby to bring matters to their determined effect. Why should it - offend me, if a Cobler, rather than a Scholler, hath ended a businesse - of mine, either in private or publique, if the end be well made? Well - I may take order, if the Cobler bee indiscreet, that hee meddle no - more with any matters of mine, yet I ought, in courtesie, to thanke - him for that which hee did._ - - _In like manner, if_ Gisippus _hath married_ Sophronia _well, it is - foolish and superfluous, to finde fault with the manner hee used in - her marriage. If you mislike his course in the case, beware of him - hereafter, yet thanke him because it is no worse._ - - _Neverthelesse, you are to understand, that I sought not by fraud or - deceit, (but onely by witte) any opportunitie, whereby any way to - sullie the honestie and cleere Nobilitie of your bloud, in the person - of_ Sophronia: _for although in secret I made her my wife, yet I came - not as an enemie, to take her perforce, nor (like a ravisher) wronged - her virginitie, to blemish your noble titles, or despising your - alliance. But fervently, enflamed by her bright beauty, and incited - also by her unparalleld vertues, I shaped my course; knowing well - enough, that if I tooke the ordinarie way of wiving, by moving the - question to you, I should never winne your consent, as fearing, lest I - would take her with me to Rome, and so conveigh out of your sight, a - Jewell by you so much esteemed, as she is._ - - _For this, and no other reason, did I presume to use the secret cunning - which now is openly made knowne unto you: and_ Gisippus _disposed - himselfe thereunto, which otherwise hee never determined to have done, - in contracting the marriage for mee, and shee consenting to me in his - name._ - - _Moreover, albeit most earnestly I affected her, I sought to procure - your union, not like a lover, but as a true husband, nor would I - immodestly touch her, till first (as herselfe can testifie) with the - words becomming wedlocke, and the Ring also I espoused her, demanding - of her, if shee would accept mee as her husband, and shee answered - mee, with her full consent. Wherein, if it may seeme that shee was - deceived, I am not any way to be blamed, but she, for not demanding, - what, and who I was._ - - _This then is the great evill, the great offence, and the great injurie - committed by my friend_ Gisippus, _and by mee as a Lover: that_ - Sophronia _is secretly become the wife of_ Titus Quintus Fulvius. _And - for this cause, like spies you watch him, threaten him daily, as if - you intended to teare him in pieces. What could you doe more, if hee - had given her to a man of the very vilest condition? to a villaine, to - a slave? What prisons? what fetters? Or what torments are sufficient - for this fact? But leaving these frivolous matters, let us come to - discourse of more moment, and better beseeming your attention._ - - _The time is come, that I may no longer continue heere, because_ - Publius _my Father is dead, and I must needs returne to Rome, - wherefore being minded to take_ Sophronia _thither with mee, I was - the more willing to acquaint you therewith, as also what else I have - said, which otherwise had still beene concealed from you. Nor can you - but take it in good part, if you be wise, and rest well contented with - what is done: considering, if I had any intention eyther to deceive, - or otherwise wrong you; I could have basely left her, and made a - scorne both of her and you, you not having any power to stay mee - heere. But the Gods will never permitte that any couragious Romane, - should ever conceive so vile and degenerate a thought._ - - Sophronia, _by ordination of the Gods, by force of humane Lawes, and - by the laudable consent of my friend_ Gisippus, _as also the powerfull - command of Love is mine. But you perchance, imagining your selves to - be wiser then the Gods, or any other men whatsoever; may thinke ill - of it, and more brutishly then beasts, condemne their working in two - kinds, which would be offensive to mee. The one is your detaining of_ - Sophronia _from mee, of whom you have no power, but what pleaseth - mee. The other, is your bitter threatnings against_ Gisippus _my - deare friend, to whom you are in duty obliged. In both which cases, - how unreasonablie soever you carrie your selves, I intend not at this - time to presse any further. But rather let mee counsell you like a - friend, to cease your hatred and disdaine, and suffer_ Sophronia _to - be delivered mee, that I may depart contentedly from you as a kinsman, - and (being absent) remaine your friend: assuring you, that whether - what is done shall please or displease you, if you purpose to proceed - any otherwise: I will take_ Gisippus _along with mee, and when I come - to Rome, take such sure order, to fetch her hence, who in Justice is - mine, even in meere despight of you all, and then you shall feele by - sound experience, how powerfull is the just indignation of the wronged - Romanes._ - - * * * * * - -When Titus had thus concluded his Oration, he arose with a sterne and -discontented countenance, and tooke _Gisippus_ by the hand, plainly -declaring, that he made small account of all the rest that were in the -Temple; and shaking his head at them, rather menaced then any other -wise seemed to care for them. - -They which tarried, when they were gone, considering partly on the -reasons alleadged by _Titus_, and partly terrified by his latest -speeches; became induced, to like well of his alliance and amitie, as -(with common consent) they concluded: that it was much better to accept -_Titus_ as their kinsman (seeing _Gisippus_ had made manifest refusall -thereof) than to lose the kinred of the one, and procure the hatred of -the other. Wherefore they went to seeke _Titus_, and said unto him, -they were very well contented that _Sophronia_ should bee his Wife, hee -their deare and loving kinsman, and _Gisippus_ to remaine their much -respected friend. And embracing one another, making a solemne feast, -such as in the like cases is necessarilie required, they departed from -him, presently sending _Sophronia_ to him, who making a vertue of -necessity, converted her love (in short time after) to _Titus_, in as -effectuall manner, as formerly shee had done to _Gisippus_, and so was -sent away with him to Rome, where she was received and welcommed with -very great honour. - -_Gisippus_ remaining still at _Athens_, in small regard of eyther -theirs or his owne friends: not long after by meanes of sundry -troublesome Citizens; and partialities happening among the common -people, was banished from _Athens_, and hee, as also all his familie, -condemned to perpetuall exile: during which tempestuous time, -_Gisippus_ was become not onely wretchedly poore, but wandred abroad as -a common begger; in which miserable condition he travelled to _Rome_, -to try if _Titus_ would take any acknowledgement of him. Understanding -that he was living, and one most respected among the Romanes, as being -a great Commander and a Senator: he enquired for the place where hee -dwelt, and going to be neere about his house, stayed there so long, -till _Titus_ came home, yet not daring to manifest himselfe, or speake -a word to him, in regard of his poore and miserable estate, but strove -to have him see him, to the end, that hee might acknowledge and call -him by his name; notwithstanding, _Titus_ passed by him without either -speech, or looking on him. Which when _Gisippus_ perceived, and making -full account, that (at the least) he would remember him, in regard of -former courtesies, done to him: confounded with griefe and desperate -thoughts, hee departed thence, never meaning to see him any more. - -Now, in regard it was night, he having eaten nothing all that day, nor -provided of one penny to buy him any food, wandred he knew not whether, -desiring rather to die than live; hee came at last to an old ruinous -part of the City, over-spred with briers and bushes, and seldome -resorted unto by any: where finding a hollow Cave or vault, he entred -into it, meaning there to weare away the comfortlesse night, and laying -himselfe downe on the hard ground, almost starke naked, and without -any warme garments, over-wearied with weeping, at last he fell into a -sleepe. - -It fortuned that two men, who had beene abroad the same night, -committing thefts and robberies together; somwhat very earlie in the -morning, came to the same Cave, intending there to share and divide -their booties, and difference happening betweene them about it, hee -that was the stronger person, slew there the other, and then went away -with the whole purchase. - -_Gisippus_ having heard and seene the manner of this accident, was not -a little joyfull, because he had now found a way to death, without -laying any violent hand on himselfe; for life being very loathsome to -him, it was his only desire to die. Wherefore, he would not budge from -the place, but taried there so long, till the Sergeants and Officers -of Justice (by information of him that did the deede) came thither well -attended, and furiously ledde _Gisippus_ thence to prison. - -Being examined concerning this bloudy fact, he plainly confessed, that -hee himselfe had committed the murder, and afterward would not depart -from the Cave, but purposely stayed for apprehension, as being truely -toucht with compunction for so foule an offence: upon which peremptorie -confession, _Marcus Varro_ being then _Prætor_, gave sentence that -he should be crucified on a Crosse, as it was the usuall manner of -death in those dayes. _Titus_ chancing to come at the same time into -_Prætorium_, advisedly beholding the face of the condemned man (as hee -sate upon the bench) knew him to bee _Gisippus_, not a little wondring -at this strange accident, the povertie of his estate, and what occasion -should bring him thither, especially in the questioning for his life, -and before the Tribunall of Justice. - -His soule earnestly thirsting, by all possible meanes to helpe and -defend him, and no other course could now be taken for safetie of his -life, but by accusing himselfe, to excuse and cleare the other of the -crime: hee stept from off the judgement bench, and crouding through -the throng to the Barre, called out to the _Prætor_ in this manner. -_Marcus Varro_, recall thy sentence given on the condemned man sent -away, because hee is truely guiltlesse and innocent: With one bloudie -blow have I offended the Gods, by killing that wretched man, whom the -Serjeants found this morning slaine, wherefore Noble _Prætor_, let no -innocent mans bloud be shed for it, but onely mine that have offended. - -_Marcus Varro_ stood like a man confounded with admiration, being -very sorrie, for that which the whole assistants had both seene and -heard, yet hee could not (with honour) desist from what must needs be -done, but would performe the Lawes severe injunction. And sending for -condemned _Gisippus_ backe againe, in the presence of _Titus_, thus -he spake to him. How becamest thou so madly incensed, as (without -any torment inflicted on thee) to confesse an offence by thee never -committed? Art thou wearie of thy life? Thou chargest thy selfe falsly, -to be the person who this last night murdered the man in the Cave, and -there is another that voluntarily also doth confesse his guiltinesse. - -_Gisippus_ lifting up his eyes, and perceiving it was _Titus_, -conceived immediately, that he had done this onely for his deliverance, -as one that remembred him sufficiently, and would not be ungratefull -for former kindnesses received. Wherefore, the teares flowing -abundantly down his cheekes, he said to the Judge _Varro_, it was -none but I that murdered the man, wherefore, I commiserate the case of -this Noble Gentleman _Titus_, who speakes now too late for the safety -of my life. _Titus_ on the other side, said. Noble Prætor, this man -(as thou seest) is a stranger heere, and was found without any weapon, -fast asleepe by the dead body: thou mayst then easily perceive, that -meerely the miserable condition wherein he is, hath made him desperate, -and he would make mine offence the occasion of his death. Absolve him, -and send me to the Crosse, for none but I have deserved to die for this -fact. - -_Varro_ was amazed, to observe with what earnest instance each of them -strove to excuse the other, which halfe perswaded him in his soule, -that they were both guiltlesse. And as he was starting up, with full -intent to acquaint them: a yong man, who had stood there all this -while, and observed the hard pleading on either side; he crowded into -the Barre, being named _Publius Ambustus_, a fellow of lewd life, and -utterly out of hopes, as being debauched in all his fortunes, and -knowne among the _Romaines_ to be a notorious theefe, who verily had -committed the murder. Well knew his conscience, that none of them were -guilty of the crime, wherewith each so wilfully charged himselfe: being -therefore truely toucht with remorse, he stept before _Marcus Varro_, -saying. - -Honourable Prætor, mine owne horrid and abominable actions, have -induced me thus to intrude my selfe, for clearing the strict contention -betweene these two persons. And questionlesse, some God or greater -power, hath tormented my wretched soule, and so compunctually solicited -me, as I cannot chuse, but make open confession of my sinne. Here -therefore, I doe apparantly publish, that neither of these men is -guilty of the offence, wherewith so wilfully each chargeth himselfe. I -am the villaine, who this morning murdered the man in the Cave, one of -no greater honesty then my selfe, and seeing this poore man lie there -sleeping, while we were dividing the stolne booties betweene us; I slew -my Companyon, because I would be the sole possessor. As for Noble Lord -_Titus_, he had no reason thus to accuse himselfe, because is a man of -no such base quality: let them both then be delivered, and inflict the -sentence of death on me. - -_Octavius Cæsar_, to whom tydings was brought of this rare accident, -commanding them al three to be brought before him; would needs -understand the whole History, in every particular as all had happened, -which was substantially related to him. Whereupon, _Octavius_ pleased -them all three: the two noble friendes, because they were innocent, and -the third, for openly revealing the very truth. - -_Titus_ tooke home with him his friend _Gisippus_, and after he -had sharpely reproved him for his distrust, and cold credence of -his friendship: he brought him to _Sophronia_, who welcomed him as -lovingly, as if he had bin her naturall borne brother, bemoaning his -hard and disastrous fortune, and taking especiall care, to convert all -passed distresses, into as happy and comfortable a change, fitting him -with garments and attendants, beseeming his degree both in Nobility -and vertue. _Titus_, out of his honourable bounty, imparted halfe -his lands and rich possessions to him, and afterward gave him in -marriage, his owne Sister, a most beautifull Lady, named _Fulvia_, -saying to him beside. My deare friend _Gisippus_, it remaineth now in -thine owne election, whether thou wilt live here still with me, or -returne backe to _Athens_, with all the wealth which I have bestowed -on thee. But _Gisippus_, being one way constrayned, by the sentence -of banishment from his native City, & then againe, in regard of the -constant love, which he bare to so true and thankefull friend as -_Titus_ was: concluded to live there as a loyall _Roman_, where he with -his _Fulvia_, and _Titus_ with his faire _Sophronia_, lived long after -together in one and the same house, augmenting daily (if possible it -might be) their amity beyond all other equalizing. - -A most sacred thing therefore is cordiall amity, worthy not onely of -singuler reverence, but also to be honoured with eternall commendation, -as being the onely wise Mother of all magnificence and honesty, the -Sister of Charity and Gratitude, the enemy to hatred and avarice, and -which is alwayes ready (without attending to be requested) to extend -all vertuous actions to others, which she would have done to her selfe. -Her rare and divine effects, in these contrary times of ours, are not -to be found between two such persons, which is a mighty fault, and -greatly checketh the miserable covetousnesse of men, who respecting -nothing but onely their particular benefit; have banished true Amity, -to the utmost confines of the whole earth, and sent her into perpetuall -exile. - -What love, what wealth, or affinity of kindred, could have made -_Gisippus_ feele (even in the intyrest part of his soule) the fervent -compassion, the teares, the sighes of _Titus_, and with such efficacy -as plainely appeared: to make him consent, that his faire elected -Spouse, by him so dearely esteemed, should become the wife of his -Companion, but onely the precious league of Amity? What Lawes, what -threatnings, what feares, could cause the yong armes of _Gisippus_ to -abstaine embraces, betaking himselfe to solitary walkes, and obscure -places, when in his owne bedde, he might have enjoyed so matchlesse -a beauty (who perhaps desired it so much as himselfe) but onely the -gracious title of Amity? What greatnesse, what merits or precedence, -could cause _Gisippus_ not to care, for the losse of his kindred, those -of _Sophronia_, yea, of _Sophronia_ her selfe, not respecting the -dishonest murmurings of base minded people, their vile and contemptible -language, scornes and mockeries, and all to content and satisfie a -friend, but onely Divine Amity? - -Come now likewise to the other side. What occasions could compell Noble -_Titus_, so promptly and deliberatly, to procure his owne death, to -rescue his friend from the crosse, and inflict the pain and shame upon -himselfe, pretending not see or know _Gisippus_ at all, had it not -bin wrought by powerfull Amity? What cause else could make _Titus_ so -liberall, in dividing (with such willingnesse) the larger part of his -patrimony to _Gisippus_, when Fortune had dispossest him of his owne, -but onely heaven-borne Amity? What else could have procured _Titus_ -without any further dilation, feare or suspition, to give his Sister -_Fulvia_ in marriage to _Gisippus_, when he saw him reduced to such -extreame poverty, disgrace and misery, but onely infinite Amity? To -what end doe men care then, to covet and procure great multitudes of -kinred, store of brethren, numbers of children, and to encrease (with -their owne monyes) plenty of servants: when by the least losse and -dammage happening, they forget all duty to Father, Brother, or Master? -Amity and true friendship is of a quite contrary nature, satisfying (in -that sacred bond) the obligation due to all degrees, both of parentage, -and all alliences else. - - - - -Saladine, _the great_ Soldan _of_ Babylon, _in the habite of a -Merchant, was honourably received and welcommed, into the house of -Signior_ Thorello d'Istria. _Who travelling to the Holy Land, prefixed -a certaine time to his Wife, for his returne backe to her againe, -wherein, if he failed, it was lawfull for her to take another Husband. -By clouding himselfe in the disguise of a Faulkner, the_ Soldan _tooke -notice of him, and did him many great honours. Afterward,_ Thorello -_falling sicke, by Magicall Art, he was conveighed in one night to_ -Pavia, _when his Wife was to be married on the morrow: where making -himselfe knowne to her, all was disappointed, and shee went home with -him to his owne house._ - -The Ninth Novell. - -_Declaring what an honourable vertue Courtesie is, in them that truely -know how to use them._ - - -Madam _Philomena_ having concluded her discourse, and the rare -acknowledgement, which _Titus_ made of his esteemed friend _Gisippus_, -extolled justly as it deserved by all the Company: the King, reserving -the last office to _Dioneus_ (as it was at the first granted him) -began to speake thus. Without all question to the contrary (worthy -Ladies) nothing can be more truely said, then what Madame _Philomena_, -hath delivered, concerning Amity, and her complaint in the conclusion -of her Novell, is not without great reason, to see it so slenderly -reverenced and respected (now-a-dayes) among all men. But if we had -met here in duty onely for correcting the abuses of iniquity, and the -malevolent courses of this preposterous age; I could proceed further -in this just cause of complaint. But because our end aimeth at matters -of other nature, it commeth to my memory to tel you of a History, -which (perhaps) may seeme somewhat long, but altogether pleasant, -concerning a magnificent act of great _Saladine_: to the end, that -by observing those things which you shall heare in my Novell, if we -cannot (by reason of our manifold imperfections) intirely compasse the -amity of any one; yet (at least) we may take delight, in stretching -our kindnesse (in good deeds) so farre as we are able, in hope one -day after, some worthy reward will ensue thereon, as thereto justly -appertaining. - -Let me tell you then, that (as it is affirmed by many) in the time of -the Emperour Frederick, first of that name, the Christians, for the -better recovery of the holy land, resolved to make a generall voyage -over the Seas. Which being understood by _Saladine_, a very worthy -Prince, and then _Soldan_ of Babylon: he concluded with himselfe, that -he would (in person) goe see, what preparation the Christian Potentates -made for this Warre, that hee might the better provide for himselfe. -Having setled all things orderly in Ægypt for the busines, and making -an outward appearance, as if he purposed a pilgrimage to _Mecha_: he -set onward on his journey, habited like a Merchant, attended onely with -two of his most Noble and wisest Baschaes, and three waiting servants. - -When he had visited many Christian Provinces, and was riding thorow -_Lombardie_, to passe the mountaines; it fortuned, in his journeying -from _Millaine_ to _Pavia_, and the day being very farre spent, so that -night hastened speedily on him: he met with a Gentleman, named Signior -_Thorello d'Istria_, but dwelling at _Pavia_, who with his men, Hawkes -and Hounds, went to a house of his, seated in a singular place, and -on the River of _Ticinum_. Signior _Thorello_ seeing such men making -towardes him, presently imagined, that they were some Gentle-strangers, -and such hee desired to respect with honor. - -Wherefore, _Saladine_ demanding of one of _Thorelloes_ men, how farre -(as then) it was to _Pavia_, and whether they might reach thither by -such an houre, as would admit their entrance into the Citty: _Thorello_ -would not suffer his servant to returne the answer, but replyed thus -himselfe. Sir (quoth he) you cannot reach _Pavia_, but night will -abridge you of any entraunce there. I beseech you then Sir, answered -_Saladine_, favour us so much (because we are all strangers in these -parts) as to tell us where we may be well lodged. That shall I Sir, said -_Thorello_, and very gladly too. - -Even at the instant Sir, as we met with you, I had determined in my -mind, to send one of my servants somewhat neere to _Pavia_, about a -businesse concerning my selfe: he shall go along with you, and conduct -you to a place, where you will be very well entertayned. So, stepping -to him, who was of best discretion amongst his men, he gave order to -him what should bee done, and sent him with them. Himselfe, making hast -by a farre neerer way, caused Supper to be prepared in worthy manner, -and the Tables to be covered in his Garden; and all things being in -good readinesse, he sate downe at his doore, to attend the comming of -his guests. The Servingman, discoursing with the Gentlemen on divers -occasions, guided them by such unusuall passages, as (before they could -discerne it) he brought them to his Masters house; where so soone as -_Thorello_ saw them arrived, he went forth to meet them, assuring them -all of most hearty welcome. - -_Saladine_, who was a man of accute understanding, did well perceive, -that this Knight _Thorello_ misdoubted his going with him, if (when he -met him) hee should have invited him; and therefore, because he would -not be denied, of entertaining him into his house; he made choise of -this kinde and honourable course, which caused him to returne this -answer. Gentle Sir, if courtesie in one man to another, do deserve -condemning, then may we justly complaine of you, who meeting us upon -the way, which you have shortened by your kindnesse; and which we are -no way able to deserve, wee are constrained to accept, taking you to -bee the mirrour of courtesie. _Thorello_ being a Knight of ingenious -apprehension, and wel languaged, replyed thus. - -Gentlemen; this courtesie (seeing you terme it so) which you receive -of me, in regard of that justly belonging to you, as your faces do -sufficiently informe mee, is matter of very slender account. But -assuredly out of _Pavia_, you could not have any lodging, deserving -to be termed good. And therefore, let it not bee displeasing to you, -if you have a little gone forth of the common rode way, to have your -entertainment somewhat bettered, as many travaylers are easily induced -to do. - -Having thus spoken, all the people of the house shewed themselves, -in serviceable manner to the Gentlemen, taking their horses as they -dismounted, and _Thorello_ himselfe, conducted the three Gentlemen, -into three severall faire Chambers, which in costly manner were -prepared for them, where their boots were pluckt off, faire Napkins -with Manchets lay ready, and delicate Wines to refresh their wearied -spirits, much prety conference being entercoursed, till Supper time -invited them thence. - -_Saladine_, and they that were with him, spake the Latine tongue -very readily, by which meanes they were the better understoode; and -_Thorello_ seemed (in their judgement) to bee the most gracious, -compleate, and best spoken Gentleman, as ever they met with in all -their journey. It appeared also (on the other side) to Signiour -_Thorello_, that his guests were men of great merit, and worthy of -much more esteeme, then there he could use towards them: wherefore, -it did highly distast him, that he had no more friends there this -night to keepe them company, or himselfe better provided for their -entertainment, which hee intended (on the morrow) to recompence with -larger amends at dinner. - -Heereupon, having instructed one of his men with what hee intended, -he sent him to _Pavia_, which was not farre off (and where he kept no -doore shut) to his Wife, named Madam _Adalietta_; a Woman singularly -wise, and of a Noble spirit, needing little or no direction, especially -when she knew her Husbands minde. As they were walking in the Garden, -_Thorello_ desired to understand, of whence, and what they were? -Whereto _Saladine_ thus answered. Sir, wee are _Cyprian_ Marchants, -comming now from _Cyprus_, and are travailing to _Paris_, about -affaires of importance. Now trust me Syr, replyed _Thorello_, I could -heartily wish, that this Countrey of ours would yeeld such Gentlemen, -as your _Cyprus_ affordeth Marchants. So, falling from one discourse -unto another, Supper was served in; and looke howe best themselves -pleased, so they sate at the Table, where (we neede make no doubt) they -were respected in honourable order. - -So soone as the Tables were withdrawne, _Thorello_ knowing they might -be weary, brought them againe to their Chambers, where committing them -to their good rest, himselfe went to bed soone after. The Servant sent -to _Pavia_, delivered the message to his Lady; who, not like a woman -of ordinary disposition, but rather truely Royall, sent _Thorelloes_ -servants into the City, to make preparation for a Feast indeed, and -with lighted Torches (because it was somewhat late) they invited -the very greatest and noblest persons of the Citie, all the roomes -being hanged with the richest Arras, Clothes of Golde worke, Velvets, -Silkes, and all other rich adornments, in such manner as her husband -had commanded, and answerable to her owne worthy mind, being no way to -learne, in what manner to entertaine strangers. - -On the morrow morning, the Gentlemen arose, and mounting on horsebacke -with Signior _Thorello_, he called for his Hawkes and Hounds, brought -them to the River, where he shewed two or three faire flights: but -_Saladine_ desiring to know, which was the fayrest Hostery in all -_Pavia, Thorello_ answered. Gentlemen, I will shew you that my selfe, -in regard I have occasion to ride thither. Which they beleeving, were -the better contented, and rode on directly unto _Pavia_; arriving there -about nine of the clocke, and thinking he guided them to the best Inne, -he brought them to his owne house; where, above fifty of the worthiest -Citizens, stood ready to welcome the Gentlemen, imbracing them as -they lighted from their Horsses. Which _Saladine_, and his associates -perceiving, they guessed as it was indeede, and _Saladine_ sayd. -Beleeve me worthy _Thorello_, this is not answerable to my demand; -you did too much yester-night, and much more then we could desire or -deserve: Wherefore, you might wel be the sooner discharged of us, and -let us travaile on our journey. - -Noble Gentlemen, replyed _Thorello_ (for in mine eye you seeme no -lesse) that courtesie which you met with yester-night, I am to thanke -Fortune for, more then you, because you were then straited by such -necessity, as urged your acceptance of my poore Country house. But now -this morning, I shall account my selfe much beholding to you (as the -like will all these worthy Gentlemen here about you) if you do but -answer kindnes with kindnes, and not refuse to take a homely dinner -with them. - -_Saladine_ and his friends, being conquerd with such potent -perswasions, and already dismounted from their horses, saw that all -deniall was meerly in vaine: and therefore thankfully condiscending -(after some few ceremonious complements were over-past) the Gentlemen -conducted them to their Chambers, which were most sumptuously prepared -for them, and having laid aside their riding garments, being a little -refreshed with Cakes and choice Wines: they descended into the dining -Hall, the pompe whereof I am not able to report. - -When they had washed, and were seated at the Tables, dinner was served -in most magnificent sort; so that if the Emperor himself had bin there, -he could not have bin more sumptuously served. And although _Saladine_ -and his Baschaes were very Noble Lords, and wonted to see matters of -admiration: yet could they do no lesse now, but rather exceeded in -marvaile, considering the qualitie of the Knight, whom they knew to bee -a Citizen, and no Prince or great Lord. Dinner being ended, and divers -familiar conferences passing amongst them: because it was exceeding -hot, the Gentlemen of _Pavia_ (as it pleased _Thorello_ to appoint) -went to repose themselves awhile, and he keeping company with his three -guests, brought them into a goodly Chamber, where, because he would -not faile in the least scruple of courtesie, or conceale from them the -richest Jewell which he had; he sent for his Lady and wife, because (as -yet) they had not seene her. - -She was a Lady of extraordinary beauty, tall stature, very sumptuously -attired, and having two sweet Sonnes (resembling Angels) she came with -them waiting before her, and graciously saluted her guests. At her -comming, they arose, and having received hir with great reverence, they -seated her in the midst, kindly cherishing the two Children. After some -gracious Language past on eyther side, she demanded of whence, and what -they were, which they answered in the same kind as they had done before -to her husband. Afterward, with a modest smiling countenance, she -sayd. Worthy Gentlemen, let not my weake Womanish discretion appeare -distastable, in desiring to crave one especiall favour from you, -namely, not to refuse or disdaine a small gift, wherewith I purpose -to present you. But considering first, that women (according to their -simple faculty) are able to bestow but silly gifts: so you would be -pleased, to respect more the person that is the giver, then the quality -or quantity of the gift. - -Then causing to be brought (for each of them) two goodly gowns or -Robes (made after the _Persian_ manner) the one lyned thorough with -cloth of Gold, and the other with the costlyest Fur; not after such -fashion as Citizens or Marchants use to weare, but rather beseeming -Lords of greatest account, and three light under-wearing Cassocks or -Mandillions, of Carnatian Sattin, richly Imbroidred with Gold and -Pearles, and lined thorow with White Taffata, presenting these gifts to -him, she sayd. I desire you Gentlemen to receive these meane trifles, -such as you see my Husband weares the like, and these other beside, -considering you are so far from your Wives, having travailed a long -way already, and many miles more yet to overtake; also Marchants (being -excellent men) affect to be comely and handsome in their habits; -although these are of slender value, yet (in necessity) they may do you -service. - -Now was _Saladine_ and his Baschaes halfe astonyed with admiration, -at the magnificent minde of Signiour _Thorello_, who would not forget -the least part of courtesie towardes them, and greatly doubted (seeing -the beauty and riches of the Garments) least they were discovered by -_Thorello_. Neverthelesse, one of them thus answered the Lady. Beleeve -me Madame, these are rich guiftes, not lightly either to be given, -or receyved: but in regard of your strict imposition, we are not -able to deny them. This being done, with most gracious and courteous -demeanour, she departed from them, leaving her Husband to keepe them -still companie; who furnished their servants also, with divers worthy -necessaries fitting for their journey. - -Afterward, _Thorello_ (by very much importunitie) wonne them to stay -with him all the rest of the day; wherefore, when they had rested -themselves awhile, being attyred in their newly given robes; they -rode on Horsebacke thorow the Citty. When supper time came, they supt -in most honourable and worthy company, beeing afterwards Lodged in -most faire and sumptuous Chambers, and being risen in the morning, -in exchange of their horses (over-wearied with Travaile) they found -three other very richly furnished, and their men also in like manner -provided. Which when _Saladine_ had perceyved, he tooke his Baschaes -aside, and spake in this manner. - -By our greatest Gods, I never met with any man, more compleat in all -noble perfections, more courteous and kinde then _Thorello_ is. If -all the Christian Kings, in the true and heroicall nature of Kings, -do deale as honourably as I see this Knight doeth, the Soldane of -_Babylon_ is not able to endure the comming of one of them, much lesse -so many, as wee see preparing to make head against us. But beholding, -that both refusall and acceptation, was all one in the minde of -_Thorello_: after much kinde Language had bin intercoursed betweene -them, _Saladine_ (with his Attendants) mounted on horsebacke. - -Signiour _Thorello_, with a number of his honourable Friends (to the -number of an hundred Horsse) accompanied them a great distance from -the Citie, and although it greeved _Saladine_ exceedingly, to leave -the company of _Thorello_, so dearely he was affected to him; but -necessity (which controlleth the power of all lawes whatsoever) must -needs divide them: yet requesting his returne agayne that way, if -possibly it might be granted; which _Saladine_ promised but did not -performe. Well Gentlemen (quoth _Thorello_ at parting) I know not -what you are, neither (against your will) do I desire it: but whether -you be Marchants or no, remember me in your kindnesse, and so to the -heavenly powers I commend you. _Saladine_, having taken his leave of -all them that were with _Thorello_, returned him this answer. Sir, it -may one day hereafter so happen, as we shall let you see some of our -Marchandises, for the better confirmation of your beleefe, and our -profession. - -Thus parted Signior _Thorello_ and his friends, from _Saladine_ and -his company, who verily determined in the heighth of his minde, if -he should be spared with life, and the warre (which he expected) -concluded: to requite _Thorello_ with no lesse courtesie, then hee -had already declared to him; conferring a long while after with -his Baschaes, both of him and his beauteous Lady, not forgetting -any of their courteous actions, but gracing them all with deserved -commendation. But after they had (with very laborious paines) surveyed -most of the Westerne parts, they all tooke Shipping, and returned into -_Alexandria_: sufficiently informed, what preparation was to be made -for their owne defence. And Signior _Thorello_ being come backe againe -to _Pavia_, consulted with his privat thoughts (many times after) what -these three travailers should be, but came farre short of knowing the -truth, till (by experience) hee became better informed. - -When the time was come, that the Christians were to make their passage, -and wonderfull great preparations, in all places performed: Signiour -_Thorello_, notwithstanding the teares and intreaties of his Wife, -determined to be one in so woorthy and honourable a voyage: and having -made his provision ready, nothing wanting but mounting on Horsebacke, -to go where he should take shipping; to his Wife (whom he most intirely -affected) thus hee spake. Madame, I goe as thou seest in this famous -Voyage, as well for mine Honour, as also the benefite of my soule; all -our goodes and possessions, I commit to thy vertuous care. And because -I am not certaine of my returning backe againe, in regard of a thousand -accidents which may happen, in such a Countrey as I goe unto: I desire -onely but one favour of thee, whatsoever daunger shall befall mee; -Namely, when any certaine tydings shall be brought mee of my death; to -stay no longer before thy second marriage, but one yeare, one month, -and one day; to begin on this day of my departing from thee. - -The Lady, who wept exceedingly, thus answered. Alas Sir: I know not how -to carry my selfe, in such extremity of greefe, as now you leave me; -but if my life surmount the fortitude of sorrow, and whatsoever shall -happen to you for certainty, either life or death: I will live and dye -the Wife of Signiour _Thorello_, and make my obsequies in his memory -onely. - -Not so Madame (replyed her Husband) not so; Be not overrash in -promising any thing, albeit I am well assured, that so much as -consisteth in thy strength, I make no question of thy performance. -But consider withall (deare heart) thou art a yong woman, beautifull, -of great parentage, and no way thereto inferior in the blessings of -Fortune. - -Thy Vertues are many, and universally both divulged and knowen, in -which respect, I make no doubt; but divers and sundrie great Lords -and Gentlemen (if but the least rumour of my death be noysed) will -make suite for thee to thy parents and brethren, from whose violent -solicitings, wouldst thou never so resolutely make resistance, yet -thou canst not be able to defend thy selfe; but whether thou wilt or -no, thou must yeeld to please them; and this is the only reason, why I -would tie thee to this limited time, and not one day or minute longer. - -_Adalietta_, sweetly hugging him in her armes, and melting her selfe in -kisses, sighes, and teares on his face, said. Well Sir, I will do so -much as I am able, in this your most kinde and loving imposition: and -when I shall bee compelled to the contrary: yet rest thus constantly -assured, that I will not breake this your charge, so much as in -thought. Praying ever heartily to the heavenly powers, that they will -direct your course home againe to me, before your prefixed date, or -else I shall live in continual languishing. In the knitting up of this -wofull parting, embracing and kissing either infinit times, the Lady -tooke a Ring from off her finger, and giving it to her husband, said. -If I chaunce to die before I see you againe, remember me when you looke -on this. He receiving the Ring, and bidding all the rest of his Friends -farewell, mounted on horsebacke, and rode away wel attended. - -Being come unto _Geneway_, he and his company boorded a Galley, and (in -few dayes after) arrived at _Acres_, where they joyned themselves with -the Christian Army, wherein there happened a verie dangerous mortality: -During which time of so sharpe visitation (the cause unknowne whence it -proceeded) whether thorough the industrie, or rather the good Fortune -of _Saladine_, well-neere all the rest of the Christians (which escaped -death) were surprized his prisoner (without a blow strucken) and -sundred and imprisoned in divers Townes and Citties. Amongest the which -number of prisoners, it was Signior _Thorelloes_ chaunce to be one, -and walked in bonds to _Alexandria_, where being unknowne, and fearing -least he should be discovered: constrained thereto meerly by necessity, -hee shewed himselfe in the condition of a Faulconer; wherein he was -very excellently experienced, and by which means his profession was -made knowne to _Saladine_, hee delivered out of prison, and created the -Soldans Faulconer. - -_Thorello_ (whom the Soldane called by no other name, then the -Christian, neyther of them knowing the other) sadly now remembred his -departure from _Pavia_, devising and practising many times, how he -might escape thence, but could not compasse it by any possible meanes. -Wherefore, certaine Ambassadours beeing sent by the _Genewaye_, to -redeeme divers Cittizens of theirs, there detained as prisoners, and -being ready to returne home againe: he purposed to write to his Wife, -that he was living, and wold repaire to her so soone as he could, -desiring the still continued remembrance** of her limited time. By close -and cunning meanes hee wrote the Letter, earnestly intreating one of -the Ambassadors (who knew him perfectly, but made no outward apparance -thereof) to deale in such sort for him, that the Letter might be -delivered to the handes of the Abbot _Di San Pietro in Ciel d'Oro_, who -was (indeede) his Uncle. - -While _Thorello_ remayned in this his Faulconers condition, it fortuned -uppon a day, that _Saladine_, conversing with him about his Hawkes: -_Thorello_ chanced to smile, and used such a kinde of gesture or motion -with his Lippes, which _Saladine_ (when he was in his house at _Pavia_) -had heedfully observed, and by this note, instantly he remembred -Signior _Thorello_, and began to eye him very respectively, perswading -himselfe that he was the same man. And therefore falling from their -former kinde of discoursing: Tell mee Christian (quoth _Saladine_) what -Country-man art thou of the West? Sir, answered Signiour _Thorello_, I -am by Country a Lombard, borne in a Citty called _Pavia_, a poore man, -and of as poore condition. - -So soone as _Saladine_ had heard these Words; becomming assured in -that which (but now) he doubted, he saide within himselfe. Now the -Gods have given me time, wherein I may make knowne to this man, how -thankefully I accepted his kinde courtesie, and cannot easily forget -it. Then, without saying any thing else, causing his Guard-robe to be -set open, he tooke him with him thither, and sayde. Christian, observe -well all these Garments, and quicken thy remembrance, in telling mee -truly, whether thou hast seene any of them before now, or no. Signiour -_Thorello_ looked on them all advisedly, and espyed those two especiall -Garments, which his Wife had given one of the strange Merchants; -yet he durst not credit it, or that possibly it could be the same, -neverthelesse he said. Sir, I doe not know any of them, but true it -is, that these two doe resemble two such Robes, as I was wont to weare -my selfe, and these (or the like) were given to three Merchants, that -happened to visite my poore house. - -Now could _Saladine_ containe no longer, but embracing him joyfully in -his armes, he said. You are Signior _Thorello d'Istria_, and I am one -of those three Merchants, to whom your Wife gave these Roabes: and now -the time is come to give you credible intelligence of my Merchandise, -as I promised at my departing from you, for such a time (I told you) -would come at length. _Thorello_, was both glad, and bashfull together: -glad, that he had entertained such a Guest, and bashfully ashamed, that -his welcome had not exceeded in more bountifull manner. _Thorello_, -replyed _Saladine_, seeing the Gods have sent you so happily to me: -account your selfe to be soly Lord here, for I am now no more then a -private man. - -I am not able to expresse their counterchanges of courtesie, _Saladine_ -commanding him to be cloathed in Royall garments, and brought into the -presence of his very greatest Lords, where having spoken liberally in -his due commendation, he commanded them to honour him as himselfe, -if they expected any grace or favour from him, which every one did -immediatly, but (above all the rest) those two Baschaes, which -accompanied _Saladine_ at his house. The greatnesse of this pompe and -glory, so suddenly throwne on Signior _Thorello_, made him halfe forget -all matters of _Lomberdie_; and so much the rather, because he had no -doubt at all, but that his letters, were safely come to the hands of -his Uncle. - -Here I am to tell you, that in the Campe or Army of the Christians, on -the day when _Saladine_ made his surprizall, there was a Provinciall -Gentleman dead and buried, who was Signior _Thorello de Dignes_, a -man of very honourable and great esteeme, in which respect (Signior -_Thorello d'Istria_, knowne throughout the Army, by his Nobility and -valour) whosoever heard that Signior _Thorello_ was dead: beleeved it -to be _Thorello d'Istria_, and not he of _Dignes_, so that _Thorello -d'Istriaes_ unknowne surprizall and thraldome, made it also to passe -for an assured truth. - -Beside, many Italians returning home, and carrying this report for -credible; some were so audaciously presumptuous, as they avouched upon -their oathes, that not onely they saw him dead, but were present at -his buriall likewise. Which rumour comming to the eare of his Wife, -and likewise to his kinred and hers: procured a great and grievous -mourning among them, and all that happened to heare thereof. - -Over-tedious time it would require, to relate at large, the publique -griefe and sorrow, with the continuall lamentations of his Wife, who -(within some few moneths after) became tormented with new marriage -solicitings, before she had halfe sighed for the first: the very -greatest persons of _Lomberdie_ making the motion, being daily followed -and furthered by her owne brothers and friends. Still (drowned in -teares) she returned denyall, till in the end, when no contradiction -could prevaile, to satisfie her parents, and the importunate pursuers: -she was constrained to reveale, the charge imposed on her by her -Husband, which shee had vowed infallibly to keepe, and till that very -time, she would in no wise consent. - -While wooing for a second wedding with _Adalietta_, proceeded in -this manner at _Pavia_, it chanced on a day, that Signior _Thorello_ -had espied a man in _Alexandria_, whom he saw with the _Geneway_ -Ambassadours, when they set thence towards _Geneway_ with their -Gallies. And causing him to be sent for, he demaunded of him, the -successe of the voyage, and when the Gallies arrived at _Geneway_; -whereto he returned him this answere. My Lord, our Gallies made a very -fatall voyage, as it is (already) too well knowne in _Creete_, where -my dwelling is. For when we drew neere _Sicilie_, there suddenly arose -a very dangerous North-West-winde, which drove us on the quicke-Sands -of _Barbarie_, where not any man escaped with life, onely my selfe -excepted, but (in the wracke) two of my brethren perished. - -Signior _Thorello_, giving credit to the mans words, because they -were most true indeed, and remembring also, that the time limitted to -his Wife, drew neere expiring within very few dayes, and no newes now -possibly to be sent thither of his life, his Wife would questionlesse -be marryed againe: he fell into such a deepe conceited melancholly, -as food and sleepe forsooke him, whereupon, he kept his bed, setting -downe his peremptory resolution for death. When _Saladine_ (who dearely -loved him) heard thereof, he came in all haste to see him, and having -(by many earnest perswasions and entreaties) understood the cause of -his melancholly and sickenesse: he very severely reproved him, because -he could no sooner acquaint him therewith. Many kind and comfortable -speeches, he gave him, with constant assurance, that (if he were so -minded) he would so order the businesse for him; as he should be at -_Pavia_, by the same time as he had appointed to his Wife, and revealed -to him also the manner how. - -_Thorello_ verily beleeved the _Soldanes_ promise, because he had -often heard the possibility of performance, and others had effected as -much, divers times else-where: whereupon he began to comfort himselfe, -soliciting the _Soldan_ earnestly that it might be accomplished. -_Saladine_ sent for one of his Sorcerers (of whose skill he had -formerly made experience) to take a direct course, how Signior -_Thorello_ should be carryed (in one night) to _Pavia_, and being in -his bed. The Magitian undertooke to doe it, but, for the Gentlemans -more ease, he must first be possessed with an entraunced dead sleep. -_Saladine_ being thus assured of the deeds full effecting, he came -againe to _Thorello_, and finding him to be setled for _Pavia_ (if -possibly it might be accomplished by the determined time, or else no -other expectation but death) he said unto him as followeth. - -Signior _Thorello_, if with true affection you love your Wife, and -misdoubt her marriage to some other man: I protest unto you, by -the supreme powers, that you deserve no reprehension in any manner -whatsoever. For, of all the Ladyes that ever I have seene, she is the -onely woman, whose carriage, vertues, and civile speaking (setting -aside beauty, which is but a fading flowre) deserveth most graciously -to be respected, much more to be affected in the highest degree. It -were to me no meane favour of our Gods, (seeing Fortune directed your -course so happily hither) that for the short or long time we have to -live, we might reigne equally together in these Kingdomes under my -subjection. But if such grace may not be granted me, yet, seeing it -stands mainly upon the perill of your life, to be at _Pavia_ againe by -your own limitted time, it is my chiefest comfort, that I am therewith -acquainted, because I intended to have you conveighed thither, yea, -even into your owne house, in such honourable order as your vertues doe -justly merit, which in regard it cannot be so conveniently performed, -but as I have already informed you, and as the necessity of the case -urgently commandeth; accept it as it may be best accomplished. - -Great _Saladine_ (answered _Thorello_) effects (without words) have -already sufficiently warranted your Gracious disposition towards me, -farre beyond any requitall remayning in me; your word onely being -enough for my comfort in this case, either dying or living. But in -regard you have taken such order for my departure hence, I desire to -have it done with all possible expedition, because to morrow is the -very last day, that I am to be absent. _Saladine_ protested that it -should be done, and the same evening in the great Hall of his Pallace, -commanded a rich and costly Bedde to be set up, the mattras formed -after the _Alexandrian_ manner, of Velvet and cloth Gold, the Quilts, -counter-points and coverings, sumptuously imbroydered with Orient -Pearles and Precious Stones, supposed to be of inestimable value, and -two rarely wrought Pillowes, such as best beseemed so stately a Bedde, -the Curtaines and Vallans every way equall to the other pompe. - -Which being done, he commanded that _Thorello_ (who was indifferently -recovered) should be attyred in one of his owne sumptuous _Saracine_ -Roabes, the very fairest and richest that ever was seene, and on his -head a Majesticall Turbant, after the manner of his owne wearing, and -the houre appearing to be somewhat late, he with many of his best -Baschaes, went to the Chamber where _Thorello_ was, and sitting downe -a while by him, in teares thus he spake. Signior _Thorello_, the houre -for sundering you and me, is now very neere, and because I cannot beare -you company, in regard of the businesse you goe about, and which by no -meanes will admit it: I am to take my leave of you in this Chamber, and -therefore am purposely come to doe it. But before I bid you farewell, -let me entreat you, by the love and friendship confirmed betweene us, -to be mindfull of me, and to take such order (your affaires being -fully finished in _Lombardie_) that I may once more enjoy the sight of -you here, for a mutuall solace and satisfaction of our mindes, which -are now divided by this urgent hast. Till which may be granted, let -me want no visitation of your kind letters, commanding thereby of me, -whatsoever here can possibly be done for you; assuring your selfe, no -man living can command me as you doe. - -Signior _Thorello_ could not forbeare weeping, but being much hindred -thereby, answered in few words. That he could not possibly forget, his -Gracious favours and extraordinary benefits used towards him, but would -accomplish whatsoever hee commaunded, according as heaven did enable -him. - -Hereupon, _Saladine_ embracing him, and kissing his forehead, said. -All my Gods goe with you, and guard you from any perill, departing so -out of the Chamber weeping, and his Baschaes (having likewise taken -their leave of _Thorello_) followed _Saladine_ into the Hall, whereas -the Bedde stood readily prepared. Because it waxed very late, and the -Magitian also there attending for his dispatch: the Phisitian went with -the potion to _Thorello_, and perswading him, in the way of friendship, -that it was onely to strengthen him after his great Weaknes: he -drank it off, being thereby immediately entraunced, and so presently -sleeping, was (by _Saladines_ command) laid on the sumptuous and costly -Bed, whereon stood an Imperiall Crowne of infinite value, appearing -(by a description engraven on it) that _Saladine_ sent it to Madame -_Adalietta_, the wife of _Thorello_. On his finger also hee put a -Ring, wherein was enchased an admirable Carbuncle, which seemed like a -flaming Torche, the value thereof not to bee estimated. By him likewise -hee laid a rich sword, with the girdle, hangers, and other furniture, -such as seldome can be seene the like. Then hee laid a Jewell on the -Pillow by him, so sumptuouslie embelished with Pearles and precious -Stones, as might have beseemed the greatest Monarch in the World to -weare. Last of all, on either side of them, hee set two great Basons of -pure Gold, full of double ducates, many cords of Orient Pearles, Rings, -Girdles, and other costly Jewells (over-tedious to bee recounted) and -kissing him once more as hee lay in the bedde, commanded the Magitian -to dispatch and be gone. - -Instantly, the bedde and _Thorello_ in it, in the presence of -_Saladine_, was invisibly carried thence, and while he sate conferring -with his Baschaes, the bed, Signior _Thorello_, and all the rich -Jewells about him, was transported and set in the Church of _San Pietro -in Ciel d'Ore_ in _Pavia_, according to his own request, and soundly -sleeping, being placed directly before the high Altar. Afterward, when -the bells rung to Mattines, the Sexton entring the Church with a light -in his hand (where hee beheld a light of greater splendour) and suddenly -espied the sumptuous bedde there standing: not only was he smitten into -admiration, but hee ranne away also very fearefully. When the Abbot -and the Monkes mette him thus running into the Cloyster, they became -amazed, and demanded the reason why he ranne in such haste, which -the Sexton told them. How? quoth the Abbot, thou art no childe, or a -new-come hither, to be so easilie affrighted in our holy Church, where -Spirits can have no power to walke, God and Saint _Peter_ (wee hope) -are stronger for us then them so: wherefore turne backe with us, and -let us see the cause of thy feare. - -Having lighted many Torches, the Abbot and his Monkes entred with the -Sexton into the Church, where they beheld the wonderfull riche bedde, -and the Knight lying fast a-sleepe in it. While they stood all in -amazement, not daring to approach neere the bedde, whereon lay such -costly Jewells: it chanced that Signior _Thorello_ awaked, and breathed -forth a vehement sigh. The Monkes and the Abbot seeing him to stirre, -ranne all away in feare, crying aloud, God and S. _Peter_ defend us. - -By this time _Thorello_ had opened his eyes, and looking round about -him, perceived that hee was in the place of _Saladines_ promise, -whereof hee was not a little joyfull. Wherefore, sitting up in the -bedde, and particularly observing all the things about him: albeit he -knew sufficiently the magnificence of _Saladine_, yet now it appeared -far greater to him, and imagined more largely thereof, then hee could -doe before. But yet, without any other ceremony, seeing the flight of -the Monkes, hearing their cry, and perceiving the reason; he called the -Abbot by his name, desiring him not to be afraid, for he was his Nephew -_Thorello_, and no other. - -When the Abbot heard this, hee was ten times worse affrighted then -before, because (by publique fame) hee had beene so many moneths dead -and buried; but receiving (by true arguments) better assurance of him, -and hearing him still call him by his name: blessing himselfe with -the signe of the Crosse, hee went somewhat neerer to the bed, when -_Thorello_ said. My loving Uncle, and religious holy Father, whereof are -you afraid? I am your loving Nephew, newly returned from beyond the -Seas. The Abbot, seeing his beard to be grown long, and his habit after -the Arabian fashion, did yet collect some resemblance of his former -countenance; and being better perswaded of him, tooke him by the hand, -saying: - -Sonne thou art happily returned, yet there is not any man in our -Citie, but doth verily beleeve thee to bee dead, and therefore doe -not much wonder at our feare. Moreover, I dare assure thee, that thy -Wife _Adalietta_, being conquered by the controuling command, and -threatnings of her kinred (but much against her owne minde) is this -very morning to be married to a new husband, and the marriage feast is -solemnly prepared, in honour of this second nuptialls. - -_Thorello_ arising out of the bedde, gave gracious salutations to the -Abbot and his Monkes, intreating earnestly of them all, that no word -might be spoken of his returne, untill he had compleated an important -businesse. Afterward, having safely secured the bedde, and all the -rich Jewells, he fully acquainted the Abbot with all his passed -fortunes, whereof he was immeasurably joyfully, & having satisfied him, -concerning the new elected husband, _Thorello_ said unto the Abbot. -Uncle, before any rumour of my returne, I would gladly see my wives -behavior at this new briding feast, & although men of religion are -seldome seene at such Joviall meetings: yet (for my sake) doe you so -order the matter, that I (as an Arabian stranger) may be a guest under -your protection; whereto the Abbot very gladly condescended. - -In the morning, he sent to the Bridegroom, and advertised him, that -he (with a stranger newly arrived) intented to dine with him, which -the Gentleman accepted in thankefull manner. And when dinner time -came, _Thorello_ in his strange disguise went with the Abbot to -the Bridegroomes house, where he was lookt on with admiration of -all the guests, but not knowne or suspected by any one; because the -Abbot reported him to be a _Sarracine_, and sent by the Soldane (in -Ambassage) to the King of France. _Thorello_ was seated at a by-table, -but directly opposite to the new Bride, whom hee much delighted to -looke on, and easily collected by her sad countenance, that shee was -scarcely well pleased with this new nuptialls. She likewise beheld him -very often, not in regard of any knowlege she took of him: for the -bushiness of his beard, strangeness of habit, (but most of all) firm -beleefe of his death, was the maine prevention. - -At such time as _Thorello_ thought it convenient, to approve how farre -he was falne out of her remembrance; he took the ring which she gave -him at his departure, and calling a young Page that waited on none but -the Bride, said to him in Italian: Faire youth, goe to the Bride, and -saluting her from me, tell her, it is a custome observed in my Country, -that when any Stranger (as I am heere) sitteth before a new married -Bride, as now shee is, in signe that hee is welcome to her feast, she -sendeth the same Cup (wherein she drinketh her selfe) full of the -best wine, and when the stranger hath drunke so much as him pleaseth, -the Bride then pledgeth him with all the rest. The Page delivered the -message to the Bride, who, being a woman of honourable disposition, and -reputing him to be a Noble Gentleman, to testifie that his presence -there was very acceptable to her, shee commanded a faire Cuppe of gold -(which stood directlie before her) to bee neately washed, and when -it was filled with excellent Wine, caused it to bee carried to the -stranger, and so it was done. - -_Thorello_ having drunke a heartie draught to the Bride, conveyed the -Ring into the Cuppe, before any person could perceive it, and having -left but small store of Wine in it, covered the Cuppe, and sent it -againe to the Bride, who received it very graciously, and to honour the -Stranger in his Countries custome, dranke up the rest of the Wine, and -espying the Ring, shee tooke it forth undetected by any: Knowing it -to be the same Ring which shee gave Signior _Thorello_ at his parting -from her; she fixed her eyes often on it, & as often on him, whom -she thought to be a stranger, the cheerfull bloud mounting up into -her cheeks, and returning againe with remembrance to her heart, that -(howsoever thus disguised) he only was her husband. - -Like one of _Bacchus_ Froes, up furiously she started, and throwing -downe the Table before her, cried out aloud: This is my Lord and -Husband, this truely is my Lord _Thorello_. So running to the Table -where he sate, without regard of all the riches thereon, down she -threw it likewise, and clasping her armes about his necke, hung so -mainly on him (weeping, sobbing, and kissing him) as she could not be -taken off by any of the company, nor shewed any moderation in this -excesse of passion, till _Thorello_ spake, and entreated her to be more -patient, because this extremity was over-dangerous for her. Thus was -the solemnitie much troubled, but every one there very glad and joyfull -for the recovery of such a famous and worthy Knight, who intreated -them all to vouchsafe him silence, and so related all his fortunes to -them, from the time of his departure, to the instant houre. Concluding -withall, that hee was no way offended with the new Bride-groome, who -upon the so constant report of his death, deserved no blame in making -election of his wife. - -The Bridegroome, albeit his countenance was somewhat cloudie, to see -his hope thus disappointed: yet granted freely, that _Adalietta_ was -_Thorello's_ wife in equitie, and hee could not justly lay any claime -to her. She also resigned the Crown and Rings which she had so lately -received of her new Spouse, and put that on her finger which she found -in the Cup, and that Crowne was set upon her head, in honor sent her -from great _Saladine_. In which triumphant manner, she left the new -Bridegrooms abiding, and repayred home to _Thorello's_ house, with such -pompe and magnificence as never had the like been seene in _Pavia_ -before, all the Citizens esteeming it as a miracle, that they had so -happily recovered Signior _Thorello_ againe. - -Some part of the Jewells he gave to him, who had beene at cost with the -marriage feasting, and some to his Uncle the Abbot, beside a bountie -bestowed on the Monkes. Then he sent a messenger to _Saladine_, with -Letters of his whole successe, and confessing himselfe (for ever) his -obliged servant: living many yeeres (after) with his wife _Adalietta_, -and using greater curtesies to strangers, then ever before he had done. - -In this manner ended the troubles of Signior _Thorello_, and the -afflictions of his dearely affected Lady, with due recompence to their -honest and ready courtesies. Many strive (in outward shew) to doe -the like, who although they are sufficiently able, doe performe it -so basely, as it rather redoundeth to their shame, then honour. And -therefore if no merit ensue thereon, but onely such disgrace as justly -should follow; let them lay the blame upon themselves. - - - - -_The Marquesse of_ Saluzzo, _named_ Gualtiero, _being constrained -by the importunate solliciting of his Lords, and other inferiour -people, to joyne himselfe in marriage; tooke a woman according to his -owne liking, called_ Grizelda, _she being the daughter of a poore -Countriman, named_ Janiculo, _by whom he had two children, which he -pretended to be secretly murdered. Afterward, they being grown to yeres -of more stature, and making shew of taking in marriage another wife, -more worthy of his high degree and Calling: made a seeming publique -liking of his owne daughter, expulsing his wife_ Grizelda _poorely -from him. But finding her incomparable patience; more dearely (then -before) hee received her into favour againe, brought her home to his -owne Pallace, where (with her children) hee caused her and them to be -respectively honoured, in despight of all her adverse enemies._ - -The Tenth Novell. - -_Set downe as an example or warning to all wealthie men, how to have -care of marrying themselves. And likewise to poore and meane women, to -be patient in their fortunes, and obedient to their husbands._ - - -Questionlesse, the Kings Novell did not so much exceed the rest in -length, but it proved as pleasing to the whole assembly, & past with -their generall approbation, till _Dioneus_ (in a merry jesting humour) -said. The plaine honest simple man, that stood holding the Candle, to -see the setting on of his Mules tayle; deserved two penny-worth of more -praise, then all our applauding of Signior _Thorello_: And knowing -himselfe to bee left for the last speaker, thus he began. - -Milde & modest Ladies, for ought I can perceive to the contrary, this -day was dedicated to none but Kings, Soldanes, and great Potentates, -not in favour of any inferiour or meaner persons. And therefore, -because I would be loth to dis-ranke my selfe from the rest, I purpose -to speake of a Lord Marquesse, not any matter of great magnificence, -but rather in a more humble nature, and sorted to an honest end: which -yet I will not advise any to immitate, because (perhaps) they cannot -so well digest it, as they did whom my Novell concerneth; thus then I -begin. - -It is a great while since, when among those that were Lord Marquesses -of _Saluzzo_, the very greatest and worthiest man of them al, was -a young Noble Lord, named _Gualtiero_, who having neyther wife nor -childe, spent his time in nothing else but hawking & hunting: nor -had he any minde of marriage, or to enjoy the benefit of children, -wherein many did repute him the wiser. But this being distastfull -to his subjects, they very often earnestly solicited him, to match -himselfe with a wife, to the end, that hee might not decease without -an heire, nor they be left destitute of a succeeding Lord; offering -themselves to provide him of such a one, so well descended by Father -and Mother, as not only should confirm their hope, but also yeeld him -high contentment; whereto the Lord Marquess thus answered. - -Worthie friends, you would constraine me to the thing, wherewith I -never had any intent to meddle, considering, how difficult a case it -is to meet with such a woman, who can agree with a man in all his -conditions, and how great the number is of them, who daily happen on -the contrarie: but most (and worst of all the rest) how wretched and -miserable prooves the life of man, who is bound to live with a wife not -fit for him. And in saying, you can learn to understand the custome and -qualities of children, by behaviour of the fathers and mothers, and so -to provide mee of a wife, it is a meere argument of folly: for neither -shall I comprehend, or you either, the secret inclinations of parents; -I meane of the Father, and much lesse the complexion of the mother. -But admitte it were within compasse of power to know them; yet it is -a frequent sight, and observed every day; that daughters doe resemble -neither father nor mother, but that they are naturally governed by -their owne instinct. - -But because you are so desirous to have me fettered in the chains of -wedlocke; I am contented to grant what you request. And because I -would have no complaint made of any but my selfe, if matters should -not happen answerable to expectation; I will make mine owne eyes my -electors, and not see by any others sight. Giving you this assurance -before, that if she whom I shall make choice of, be not of you honoured -and respected as your Lady and Mistresse: it will ensue to your -detriment, how much you have displeased me, to take a wife at your -request, and against mine owne will. - -The Noble men answered, that they were well satisfied, provided that he -tooke a wife. - -Some indifferent space of time before, the beauty, manners, and -well-seeming vertues, of a poore Countrie-mans daughter, dwelling -in no farre distant village, had appeared very pleasing to the Lord -Marquesse, and gave him full perswasion, that with her hee should -lead a comfortable life. And therefore without any further search or -inquisition, he absolutely resolved to marry her, and having conferred -with her Father, agreed, that his daughter should be his wife. -Whereupon, the Marquesse made a generall Convocation of all his Lords, -Barons, and other of his especiall friends, from all parts of his -Dominion; and when they were assembled together, hee then spake unto -them in manner as followeth. - -Honourable friends, it appeared pleasing to you all; and yet (I thinke) -you are of the same minde, that I should dispose my selfe to take -a wife: and I thereto condescended, more to yeeld you contentment, -then for any particular desire in my selfe. Let mee now remember you -of your solemne made promise, with full consent to honor and obey -her (whosoever) as your Soveraigne Lady and Mistresse, that I shall -elect to make my wife: and now the time is come, for my exacting the -performance of that promise, and which I look you must constantly -keepe. I have made choyce of a yong virgine, answerable to mine owne -heart and liking, dwelling not farre off hence, whom I intend to make -my wife, and (within few daies) to have her brought home to my Pallace. -Let your care and diligence then extend so farre, as to see that the -feast may be sumptuous, and her entertainment to bee most honourable: -to the end that I may receive as much contentment in your promise -performed, as you shall perceive I doe in my choice. - -The Lords and all the rest, were wondrously joyfull to heare him -so well inclined, expressing no lesse by their shouts and jocund -suffrages: protesting cordially, that she should be welcommed with -pompe and majestie, and honoured of them all, as their Liege Ladie -and Soveraigne. Afterward, they made preparation for a princely and -magnificent feast, as the Marquesse did the like, for a marriage of -extraordinary state and qualitie, inviting all his kinred, friends, -and acquaintance in all parts and Provinces, about him. Hee made also -readie most riche and costly garments, shaped by the body of a comely -young Gentlewoman, who he knew to be equall in proportion and stature, -to her of whom hee hade made his election. - -When the appointed nuptiall day was come, the Lord Marques, about nine -of the clocke in the morning, mounted on horse-backe, as all the rest -did, who came to attend him honourably, and having all things in due -readinesse with them, he said: Lords, it is time for us to goe fetch -the Bride. So on hee rode with his traine, to the same poore Village -whereas shee dwelt, and when hee was come to her Fathers house, hee saw -the maiden returning very hastily from a Well, where shee had beene to -fetch a paile of Water, which shee set downe, and stood (accompanied -with other maidens) to see the passage by of the Lord Marquesse and his -traine. _Gualtiero_ called her by her name, which was _Grizelda_, and -asked her, where her Father was: who bashfully answered him, and with -an humble courtesie, saying. My gracious Lord, hee is in the house. - -Then the Marquesse dismounted from his horse, commanding every one to -attend him, then all alone hee entred into the poore Cottage, where he -found the maides father, being named _Janiculo_, and said unto him. God -speed good Father, I am come to espouse thy daughter _Grizelda_: but -first I have a few demands to make, which I will utter to her in thy -presence. Then hee turned to the maide, and saide. - -Faire _Grizelda_, if I make you my wife, will you doe your best -endeavour to please me, in all things which I shall doe or say? will -you also be gentle, humble, and patient? with divers other the like -questions: whereto she still answered, that she would, so neere as -heaven (with grace) should enable her. - -Presently he tooke her by the hand, so led her forth of the poore -homely house, and in the presence of all his company, with his owne -hands, he took off her meane wearing garments, smocke and all, and -cloathed her with those Robes of State which he had purposely brought -thither for her, and plaiting her haire over her shoulders, hee placed -a Crowne of gold on her head, whereat every one standing as amazed, and -wondring not a little, hee said: _Grizelda_, wilt thou have me to thy -husband. Modestly blushing, and kneeling on the ground, she answered. -Yes my gracious Lord, if you will accept so poore a maiden to be your -wife. Yes _Grizelda_, quoth hee, with this holy kisse, I confirme -thee for my wife; and so espoused her before them all. Then mounting -her on a milke-white Palfray, brought thither for her, shee was thus -honourably conducted to her Pallace. - -Now concerning the marriage feast and triumphes, they were performed -with no lesse pompe, then if she had beene daughter to the King of -France. And the young Bride apparantly declared, that (with her -garments) her minde and behavior were quite changed. For indeed shee -was (as it were shame to speake otherwise) a rare creature, both of -person and perfections, and not onely was shee absolute for beautie, -but so sweetely amiable, gracious, and goodlie; as if she were not the -daughter of poore _Janiculo_, and a Countrie Shepheardesse, but rather -of some Noble Lord, whereat every one wondred that formerly had knowne -her. Beside all this, shee was so obedient to her husband, so fervent -in all dutifull offices, and patient, without the very least provoking: -as hee held himselfe much more then contented, and the onely happy man -of the world. - -In like manner, towards the subjects of her Lord and Husband, she -shewed her selfe alwayes so benigne and gracious; as there was not -any one, but the more they lookt on her, the better they loved her, -honouring her voluntarily, and praying to the heavens, for her health, -dignity and well-fares long continuance. Speaking now (quite contrary -to their former opinion of the Marquesse) honourably and worthily, that -he had shewne him selfe a singular wise man, in the election of his -Wife, which few else (but he) in the world would have done: because -their judgement might fall farre short, of discerning those great and -precious vertues, veiled under a homely habite, and obscured in a poore -Countrey cottage. To be briefe, in very short time, not onely the -Marquisate it selfe, but all neighbouring Provinces round about, had no -other common talke, but of her rare course of life, devotion, charity, -and all good actions else; quite quailing all sinister Instructions of -her Husband, before he received her in marriage. - -About foure or five yeeres after the birth of her daughter, shee -conceived with child againe, and (at the limitted houre of deliverance) -had a goodly Sonne, to the no little liking of the Marquesse. -Afterward, a strange humour entred into his braine, namely, that by -a long continued experience, and courses of intollerable quality; he -would needes make proofe of his faire Wives patience. First he began to -provoke her by injurious speeches, shewing fierce and frowning lookes -to her, intimating; that his people grew displeased with him, in regard -of his Wives base birth and education, and so much the rather, because -she was likely to bring children, who (by her blood) were no better -then beggars, and murmured at the daughter already borne. Which words -when _Grizelda_ heard, without any alteration of countenance, for the -least distemperature in any appearing action she said. - -My honourable and gracious Lord, dispose of me, as you thinke best, -for your owne dignity and contentment, for I shall therewith be well -pleased: as she that knowes her selfe, farre inferiour to the meanest -of your people, much lesse worthy of the honour, whereto you liked to -advance me. - -This answere was very welcome to the Marquesse, as apparantly -perceiving hereby, that the dignity whereto hee had exalted her, or -any particular favours beside, could not infect her with any pride, -coynesse, or disdaine. Not long after, having told her in plaine and -open speeches, that his subjects could not endure her so late borne -daughter: he called a trusty servant of his, and having instructed -him what he should doe, sent him to _Grizelda_, and he being alone -with her, looking very sadde, and much perplexed in mind, he saide. -Madame, except I intend to loose mine owne life, I must accomplish what -my Lord hath strictly enjoyned me, which is, to take this your yong -daughter, and then I must: So breaking off abruptly, the Lady hearing -his words, and noting his frowning lookes, remembring also what the -Marquesse himselfe had formerly said; she presently imagined, that he -had commanded his servant to kill the childe. Suddenly therefore, she -tooke it out of the Cradle, and having sweetly kissed, and bestowne her -blessing on it (albeit her heart throbbed, with the inward affection -of a Mother) without any alteration of countenance, she tenderly laid -it in the servants armes, and said. Here friend, take it, and doe with -it as thy Lord and mine hath commanded thee: but leave it in no rude -place, where birds or savage beasts may devoure it, except it be his -will to have it so. - -The servant departing from her with the child, and reporting to the -Marquesse what his Lady had said; he wondered at her incomparable -constancy. Then he sent it by the same servant to _Bologna_, to an -honourable Lady his kinsewoman, requesting her (without revealing whose -child it was) to see it both nobly and carefully educated. - -At time convenient afterward, being with child againe, and delivered -of a Princely Sonne (then which nothing could be more joyfull to the -Marquesse) yet all this was not sufficient for him; but with farre -ruder language then before, and lookes expressing harsh intentions, -he said unto her. _Grizelda_, though thou pleasest me wonderfully, -by the birth of this Princely Boy, yet my subjects are not therewith -contented, but blunder abroad maliciously; that the grand-child of -_Janiculo_, a poore countrey pezant, when I am dead and gone, must be -their Soveraigne Lord and Master. Which makes me stand in feare of -their expulsion, and to prevent that, I must be rid of this childe, as -well as the other, and then send thee away from hence, that I may take -another wife, more pleasing to them. - -_Grizelda_, with a patient sufferent soule, hearing what he had said, -returned no other answere but this. Most Gracious and Honourable Lord, -satisfie and please your owne Royall minde, and never use any respect -of me: for nothing is precious or pleasing to mee, but what may agree -with your good liking. Within a while after, the Noble Marquesse in -the like manner as he did before for the Daughter, so he sent the same -servant for the Sonne, and seeming as if he had sent it to have been -slaine, conveighed it to be nursed at _Bologna_, in company of his -sweete Sister. Whereat the Lady shewed no other discontentment in any -kinde, then formerly she had done for her Daughter, to the no meane -marvell of the Marquesse, who protested in his soule, that the like -woman was not in all the world beside. And were it not for his heedfull -observation, how loving and carefull she was of her children, prizing -them as dearely as her owne life: rash opinion might have perswaded -him, that she had no more in her, then a carnall affection, not caring -how many she had, so shee might thus easily be rid of them; but he knew -her to be a truely vertuous mother, and wisely liable to endure his -severest impositions. - -His Subjects beleeving, that he had caused the children to bee slaine, -blamed him greatly, thought him to be a most cruell man, and did highly -compassionate the Ladies case: who when shee came in company of other -Gentlewomen, which mourned for their deceased children, would answere -nothing else: but that they could not be more pleasing to her, then -they were to the father that begot them. - -Within certaine yeares after the birth of these children, the Marquesse -purposed with himselfe, to make his last and finall proofe of faire -_Grizeldaes_ patience, and said to some neere about him: that he could -no longer endure, to keepe _Grizelda_ as his wife, confessing, he had -done foolishly, and according to a young giddie braine, when he was so -rash in the marriage of her. Wherefore he would send to the Pope, and -purchase a dispensation from him, to repudiate _Grizelda_, and take -another Wife. Wherein although they greatly reproved him; yet he told -them plainely, that it must needes be so. - -The Lady hearing these newes, and thinking she must returne againe -to her poore fathers house, and (perhaps) to her old occupation of -keeping sheepe, as in her yonger dayes she had done, understanding -withall, that another woman must enjoy him, whom shee dearely loved and -honoured; you may well thinke (worthy Ladies) that her patience was now -put to the maine proofe indeede. Neverthelesse, as with an invincible -true vertuous courage, she had outstood all the other injuries of -Fortune; so did she constantly settle her soule, to beare this with an -undaunted countenance and behaviour. - -At such time as was prefixed for the purpose, counterfeit Letters came -to the Marquesse (as sent from _Rome_) which he caused to be publikely -read in the hearing of his subjects: that the Pope had dispensed with -him, to leave _Griselda_, and marry with another Wife, wherefore, -sending for her immediatly, in presence of them all, thus he spake to -her. Woman, by concession sent me from the Pope, he hath dispensed with -me, to make choyce of another Wife, and to free my selfe from thee. -And because my predecessors have beene Noblemen, and great Lords in -this Country, thou being the daughter of a poore Countrey Clowne, and -their blood and mine notoriously imbased, by my marriage with thee; -I intend to have thee no longer my Wife, but will returne thee home -to thy Fathers house, with all the rich Dowry thou broughtest me; and -then I will take another Wife, with whom I am already contracted, better -beseeming my birth, and farre more contenting and pleasing to my people. - -The Lady hearing these words (not without much paine and difficulty) -restrayned her teares, quite contrary to the naturall inclination -of women, and thus answered. Great Marquesse, I never was so empty -of discretion, but did alwayes acknowledge, that my base and humble -condition, could not in any manner sute with your high blood and -Nobility, and my being with you, I ever acknowledged, to proceed -from heaven and you, not any merit of mine, but onely as a favour -lent me, which you being now pleased to recall backe againe, I ought -to be pleased (and so am) that it bee restored. Here is the Ring, -wherewith you Espoused me; here (in all humility) I deliver it to -you. You command me, to carry home the marriage Dowry which I brought -with me: there is no need of a Treasurer to repay it me, neither any -new purse to carry it in, much lesse any Sumpter to be laden with it. -For (Noble Lord) it was never out of my memory, that you tooke me -starke naked; and if it shall seeme sightly to you, that this body -which hath borne two children, and begotten by you, must againe be -seene naked; willingly must I depart hence naked. But I humbly beg -of your Excellency, in recompence of my Virginity, which I brought -you blamelesse, so much as in thought: that I may have but one of my -wedding Smocks, onely to conceale the shame of nakednesse, and then I -depart rich enough. - -The Marquesse whose heart wept bloody teares, as his eyes would -likewise gladly have yeelded their naturall tribute; covered all with -a dissembled angry countenance, and starting up, said. Goe, give her -a Smocke onely, and so send her gadding. All there present about him, -entreated him to let her have a petticote, because it might not be -said, that she who had been his Wife thirteene yeares and more, was -sent away so poorely in her Smocke: but all their perswasions prevailed -not with him. Naked in her Smocke, without hose or shooes, bareheaded, -and not so much as a Cloth about her necke, to the great griefe and -mourning of all that saw her, she went home to her old fathers house. - -And he (good man) never beleeving, that the Marquesse would long keepe -his daughter as his Wife, but rather expected daily, what now had -happened: safely laid up the garments, whereof the Marquesse despoyled -her, the same morning when he espoused her. Wherefore he delivered -them to her, and she fell to her fathers houshold businesse, according -as formerly she had done; sustayning with a great and unconquerable -spirit, all the cruell assaults of her enemy Fortune. - -About such time after, as suted with his owne disposition, the -Marquesse made publiquely knowne to his subjects, that he meant to -joyne in marriage again, with the daughter to one of the Counts of -_Panago_, and causing preparation to be made for a sumptuous wedding; -he sent for _Grizelda_, and she being come, thus he spake to her. The -Wife that I have made the new election of, is to arrive here within -very few dayes, and at her first comming, I would have her to be most -honourably entertained. Thou knowest I have no women in my house, that -can decke up the Chambers, and set all requisite things in due order, -befitting for so solemne a Feast: and therefore I sent for thee, who -knowing (better then any other) all the partes, provision and goods -in the house, set every thing in such order, as thou shalt thinke -necessary. - -Invite such Ladies and Gentlewomen as thou wilt, and give them welcome, -even as if thou wert the Lady of the house: and when the marriage is -ended, returne then home to thy father againe. - -Although these words pierced like wonding daggers, the heart of poore -(but Noble patient) _Grizelda_, as being unable to forget the unequal'd -love she bare to the Marquesse, though the dignitie of her former -fortune, more easily slipt out of her remembrance; yet neverthelesse, -thus she answered. - -My Gracious Lord, I am glad I can doe you any service; wherein you -shall find mee both willing and ready. In the same poore garments, as -she came from her fathers house, (although shee was turned out in her -Smocke) she began to sweep and make cleane the Chambers, rubbe the -stooles and benches in the Hall, and ordered every in the Kitchin, as -if she were the worst maide in all the house, never ceasing or giving -over, till all things were in due and decent order, as best beseemed in -such a case. After all which was done, the Marquesse, having invited -all the Ladies of the Countrey, to be present at so great a Feast: -when the marriage day came, _Grizelda_, in her gowne of Countrey gray, -gave them welcome, in honourable manner, and graced them all with very -cheerefull countenance. - -_Gualtiero_ the Marquesse, who had caused his two children to be nobly -nourished at _Bologna_, with a neere kinswoman of his, who had married -with one of the Counts of _Panago_, his daughter being now aged twelve -yeares old, and some-what more, as also the Son about sixe or seven. -He sent a Gentleman expresly to his kindred, to have them come and -visite him at _Saluzza_, bringing his daughter and Sonne with them, -attended in very honourable manner, and publishing every where as -they came along, that the young Virgin (knowne to none but himselfe -and them) should be the Wife to the Marquesse, and that onely was the -cause of her comming. The Gentleman was not slacke, in the execution -of the trust reposed in him: but having made convenient preparation, -with the kindred, Sonne, daughter, and a worthy company attending on -them, arrived at _Saluzza_ about dinner time, where wanted no resort, -from all neighbouring parts round about, to see the comming of the Lord -Marquesses new Spouse. - -By the Lords and Ladies she was joyfully entertained, and comming into -the great Hall, where the Tables were readily covered: _Grizelda_, -in her homely Country habite, humbled her selfe before her, saying. -Gracious welcome, to the new elected Spouse of the Lord Marquesse. - -All the Ladies there present, who had very earnestly importuned -_Gualtiero_ (but in vaine) that _Grizelda_, might better be shut up in -some Chamber, or else to lend her the wearing of any other garments, -which formerly had been her owne, because she should not be so poorely -seene among strangers: being seated at the Tables, she waited on them -very serviceably. The yong Virgin was observed by every one, who spared -not to say; that the Marquesse had made an excellent change: but above -them all, _Grizelda_ did most commend her, and so did her brother -likewise, as young as he was, yet not knowing her to be his Sister. - -Now was the Marquesse sufficiently satisfied in his soule, that he had -seene so much as he desired, concerning the patience of his Wife, who -in so many hart-grieving trials, was never noated so much as to alter -her countenance. And being absolutely perswaded, that this proceeded -not from any want of understanding in her, because he knew her to be -singularly wise: he thought it high time now, to free her from these -afflicting oppressions, and give her such assurance as she ought to -have. Wherefore, commanding her into his presence, openly before all -his assembled friends, smiling on her, he said. What thinkst thou -_Grizelda_ of our new chosen Spouse? My Lord (quoth she) I like her -exceeding well, and if she be so wise, as she is faire (which verely -I thinke she is) I make no doubt but you shall live with her, as the -onely happy man of the world. But I humbly entreat your Honour (if I -have any power in me to prevaile by) that you would not give her such -cutting and unkind language, as you did to your other wife: for I -cannot thinke her armed with such patience, as should (indeed) support -them: as wel in regard she is much yonger, as also her more delicate -breeding and education, whereas she who you had before, was brought up -in continual toile and travaile. - -When the Marquesse perceyved, that _Grizelda_ beleeved verily, this -yong daughter of hers should be his wife, and answered him in so honest -and modest manner: he commanded her to sit downe by him, and saide. -_Grizelda_, it is now more then fitte time, that thou shouldst taste -the fruite of thy long admired patience, and that they who have thought -me cruell, harsh and uncivill natured, should at length observe, that -I have done nothing basely, or unadvisedly. For this was a worke -premeditated before, for enstructing thee, what it is to be a married -wife, and to let them know (whosoever they be) how to take and keepe -a wife. Which hath begotten (to me) perpetuall joy and happinesse, -so long as I have a day to live with thee: a matter whereof I stoode -before greatly in feare, and which (in marriage I thought) would never -happen to me. - -It is not unknown to thee, in how many kinds (for my first proofe) -I gave thee harsh and unpleasing speeches, which drawing no -discontentment from thee, either in lookes, words, or behaviour, but -rather such comfort as my soule desired, and so in my other succeedings -afterward: in one minute now, I purpose to give thee that consolation, -which I bereft thee of in many tempestuous stormes, and make a sweet -restauration, for all thy former sower sufferinges. My faire and -dearly affected _Grizelda_, shee whom thou supposest for my new -elected Spouse, with a glad and cheerfull hart, imbrace for thine owne -daughter, and this also her Brother, beeing both of them thy children -and mine, in common opinion of the vulgar multitude, imagined to be (by -my command) long since slaine. I am thy honourable Lord and Husband, -who doth, and will love thee farre above all women else in the world; -giving thee justly this deserved praise and commendation, That no man -living hath the like Wife, as I have. - -So, sweetly kissing her infinitely, and hugging her joyfully in his -armes (the teares now streaming like new-let-loose Rivers, downe her -faire face, which no disaster before could force from her) hee brought -her, and seated her by her daughter, who was not a little amazed at -so rare an alteration. Shee having (in zeale of affection) kissed and -embraced them both, all else there present being clearely resolved -from the former doubt which too long deluded them; the Ladies arose -jocondly from the tables, and attending on _Grizelda_ to her Chamber, -in signe of a more successefull augury to follow: tooke off her poor -contemptible rags, and put on such costly robes, which (as Lady -Marchionesse) she used to weare before. - -Afterward, they waited on her into the Hall againe, being their true -Soveraigne Lady and Mistresse, as she was no lesse in her poorest -Garments; where all rejoycing for the new restored Mother, & happy -recovery of so noble a son and daughter, the Festivall continued many -months after. Now every one thought the Marquesse to be a noble and -wise Prince, though somewhat sharpe and unsufferable, in the severe -experiences made of his wife: but (above al) they reputed _Grizelda_, -to be a most wise, patient, & vertuous Lady. The Count of _Panago_, -within few daies after returned backe to _Bologna_; and the Lord -Marques, fetching home old _Janiculo_ from his country drudgery, to -live with him (as his Father in law) in his Princely Palace, gave -him honorable maintenance, wherein hee long continued, and ended his -daies. Afterward, he matched his daughter in a Noble marriage: he -and _Grizelda_ living long time together, in the highest honor that -possibly could be. - -What can now be saide to the contrary, but that poore Country Cottages, -may yeeld as divine & excellent spirits, as the most stately and -Royall mansions, which breed and bring uppe some, more worthy to be -Hog-rubbers, then hold any soveraignty over men? Where is any other -(beside _Grizelda_) who not only without a wet eye, but imboldned by a -valiant and invincible courage: that can suffer the sharpe rigours, and -(never the like heard of proofes) made by the Marquesse? Perhaps he -might have met with another, who would have quitted him in a contrary -kinde, and for thrusting her forth of doores in her smocke, could have -found better succor somewhere else, rather then walke so nakedly in the -cold streets. - - * * * * * - -_Dioneus_ having thus ended his Novel, and the Ladies delivering their -severall judgements, according to their owne fancies, some holding -one conceite, others leaning to the contrary; one blaming this thing, -and another commending that, the King lifting his eyes to heaven, and -seeing the Sun began to fall** low, by rising of the Evening Starre; -without arising from his seat, spake as followeth. Discreet Ladies, I -am perswaded you know sufficiently, that the sense and understanding of -us mortals, consisteth not onely (as I think) by preserving in memory -things past, or knowledge of them present; but such as both by the one -and other, know how to foresee future occasions, are worthily thought -wise, and of no common capacity. - -It will be (to morrow) fifteene dayes, since we departed from the -City of _Florence_, to come hither for our pastime and comfort, the -conservation of our lives, and support of our health, by avoyding those -melanchollies, griefes, and anguishes, which we beheld daylie in our -City, since the pestilentiall visitation beganne there, wherein (by my -judgement) we have done well and honestly. Albeit some light Novels, -perhaps attractive to a little wantonnes, as some say, and our Joviall -feasting with good cheare, singing and dancing, may seeme matters -inciting to incivility, especially in weake and shallow understandings. -But I have neither seene, heard, or knowne, any acte, word, or -whatsoever else, either on your part or ours, justly deserving to be -blamed: but all has bin honest, as in a sweete and hermonious concord, -such as might well beseeme the communitie of Brethren and Sisters; -which assuredly, as well in regard of you, as us, hath much contented -me. - -And therefore, least by over-long consuetude, something should take -life, which might be converted to a bad construction, & by our country -demourance for so many dayes, some captious conceit may wrest out an -ill imagination; I am of the minde (if yours be the like) seeing each -of us hath had the honor, which now remaineth still on me: that it is -very fitting for us, to returne thither from whence we came. And so -much the rather, because this sociable meeting of ours, which already -hath wonne the knowledge of many dwellers here about us, should not -grow to such an increase, as might make our purposed pastime offensive -to us. In which respect (if you allow of my advise) I will keepe -the Crowne till our departing hence; the which I intend shall be to -morrow: but if you determine otherwise, I am the man ready to make my -resignation. - -Many imaginations passed amongst the Ladies, and likewise the men, but -yet in the end, they reputed the Kings counsell to bee the best and -wisest, concluding to do as he thought convenient. Whereupon, hee called -the Master of the housholde, and conferred with him, of the businesse -belonging to the next morning, and then gave the company leave to rise. -The Ladies and the rest, when they were risen, fel some to one kinde of -recreation, and others as their fancies served them, even as (before) -they had done. And when Supper time came, they dispatcht it in very -loving manner. Then they began to play on instruments, sing and dance, -and Madame _Lauretta_ leading the dance: the King commaunded Madame -_Fiammetta_ to sing a song, which pleasantly she began in this manner. - - _THE SONG._ - - The Chorus sung by all the rest of the Company. - - _If Love were free from Jealousie, - No Lady living, - Had lesse heart-greeving, - Or liv'd so happily as I._ - - _If gallant youth - In a faire friend, a woman could content, - If vertues prize, valour and hardiment, - Wit, carriage, purest eloquence, - Could free a woman from impatience: - Then I am she can vaunt (if I were wise) - All these in one faire flower, - Are in my power, - And yet I boast no more but trueth. - If Love were free from jealousie, &c._ - - _But I behold - That other Women are as wise as I - Which killes me quite, - Fearing false sirquedrie. - For when my fire begins to flame - Others desires misguide my aim, - And so bereaves me of secure delight. - Onely through fond mistrust, he is unjust: - Thus are my comforts hourely hot and cold. - If Love were free, &c._ - - _If in my friend, - I found like faith, as manly minde I know; - Mistrust were slaine. - But my fresh griefes still grow, - By sight of such as do allure, - So I can thinke none true, none sure, - But all would rob me of my golden gaine. - Loe thus I dye, in Jelousie, - For losse of him, on whom I most depend. - If Love were free, &c._ - - _Let me advise - Such Ladies as in Love are bravely bold, - Not to wrong me, I scorne to be controld. - If any one I chance to finde. - By winkes, words, smiles, in crafty kinde, - Seeking for that, which onely mine should be: - Then I protest, to do my best, - And make them know, that they are scarsly wise._ - - _If Love were free from jealousie, - I know no Lady living, - Could have lesse heart-greeving, - Or live so happily as I._ - -So soone as Madam _Fiammetta_ had ended her Song; _Dioneus_, who sate -by her, smiling said. Truly Madam, you may do us a great courtesie, to -express your selfe more plainly to us all, least (thorow ignorance) -the possession may be imposed on your selfe, and so you remaine the -more offended. After the Song was past, divers other were sung beside, -and it now drawing wel-neere midnight, by the Kings command, they all -went to bed. And when new day appeared, and all the world awaked out -of sleepe, the Master of the Houshold having sent away the carriages; -they returned (under the conduct of their discreet King) to _Florence_, -where the three Gentlemen left the seven Ladies at the Church of -_Santa Maria Novella_, from whence they went with them at the first. -And having parted with kinde salutations; the Gentlemen went whether -themselves best pleased, and the Ladies repaired home to their houses. - - -_The End of the Tenth and Last Day._ - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Decameron (Day 6 to Day 10), by -Giovanni Boccaccio - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DECAMERON (DAY 6 TO DAY 10) *** - -***** This file should be named 52618-8.txt or 52618-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/6/1/52618/ - -Produced by Clare Graham and Marc D'Hooghe at -http://www.freeliterature.org (Images generously made -available by the Internet Archive.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Decameron (Day 6 to Day 10) - Containing an hundred pleasant Novels - -Author: Giovanni Boccaccio - -Translator: John Florio - -Release Date: July 22, 2016 [EBook #52618] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DECAMERON (DAY 6 TO DAY 10) *** - - - - -Produced by Clare Graham and Marc D'Hooghe at -http://www.freeliterature.org (Images generously made -available by the Internet Archive.) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 576px;"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="576" alt="titlepage" /> -</div> - -<h1>THE<br /> -DECAMERON</h1> - -<h2>CONTAINING<br /> -An hundred pleasant<br /> -Novels.</h2> - -<h3><i>Wittily discoursed, betweene<br /> -seven Honourable Ladies, and<br /> -three Noble Gentlemen.</i></h3> - - -<h4>The last Five Dayes.</h4> - - -<h4>London, Printed by<br /> -Isaac Jaggard,<br /> -1620.</h4> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="TO_THE_RIGHT_HONOURABLE" id="TO_THE_RIGHT_HONOURABLE">TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE -Sir <span class="smcap">Phillip Herbert</span>,</a></h2> -<h4>Knight, Lord Baron of Sherland, Earle of -Montgomery, and Knight of the most Noble -order of the Garter.</h4> - - -<p><i>Having (by your Honorable command) -translated this</i> Decameron, <i>or</i> Cento -Novelle, <i>sirnamed</i> Il Principe -Galeotto, <i>of ten dayes severall discourses, -grounded on variable and singuler -Arguments, happening betweene -seaven Noble Ladies, and three very -Honourable Gentlemen: Although not attyred in such elegantcy -of phrase, or nice curiosity of stile, as a quicker and more -sprightly wit could have performed, but in such home-borne -language, as my ability could stretch unto; yet it commeth (in -all duty) to kisse your Noble hand, and to shelter it selfe under -your Gracious protection, though not from the leering eye, and -over-lavish tongue of snarling Envy; yet from the power of his -blasting poyson, and malice of his machinations.</i></p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="To_the_Reader" id="To_the_Reader"><i>To the Reader.</i></a></h2> - - -<p>Bookes (Courteous Reader) may -rightly be compared to <i>Gardens</i>; -wherein, let the painfull Gardiner -expresse never so much care and -diligent endeavour; yet among -the very fairest, sweetest, and freshest -Flowers, as also Plants of -most precious Vertue; ill favouring and stinking -Weeds, fit for no use but the fire or mucke-hill, will -spring and sprout up. So fareth it with Bookes of the -very best quality, let the Author bee never so indulgent, -and the Printer vigilant: yet both may misse -their ayme, by the escape of Errors and Mistakes, either -in sense or matter, the one fault ensuing by a ragged -Written Copy; and the other thorough want of -wary Correction. If then the best Bookes cannot be -free from this common infirmity; blame not this -then, of farre lighter argument, wherein thy courtesie -may helpe us both: His blame, in acknowledging -his more sufficiency, then to write so grosse and absurdly: -And mine, in pardoning unwilling Errors -committed, which thy judgement finding, thy pen -can as easily correct.</p> - -<blockquote> -<p><i>Farewell.</i></p></blockquote> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<blockquote> - -<h2>The Table</h2> - -<h4><a href="#TO_THE_RIGHT_HONOURABLE">The Dedication.</a></h4> - -<h4><a href="#To_the_Reader">To the Reader.</a></h4> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3><a href="#THE_SIXT_DAY">THE SIXT DAY,<br /> -Governed under Madame -Eliza.</a></h3> - - -<p><i>Wherein the Discourses or Novels there to bee -recounted, doe concerne such persons; who by -some witty words (when any have taunted -them) have revenged themselves, in a sudden, -unexpected and discreet answere, thereby preventing -losse, danger, scorne and disgrace, retorting -them on the busi-headed Questioners.</i></p> - -<h4><a href="#A_Knight_requested_Madam_Oretta_to_ride_behinde_him_on_horse-backe_and">The argument of the first Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>A Knight requested Madame</i> Oretta, <i>to ride behinde -him on horsebacke, and promised, to tell her an excellent -Tale by the way. But the Lady perceiving, -that his discourse was idle, and much worse delivered: entreated -him to let her walke on foote againe.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Reprehending the folly of such men, as undertake -to report discourses, which are beyond their wit and -capacity, and gaine nothing but blame for their labour.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Cistio_a_Baker_by_a_wittie_answer_which_he_gave_unto_Messer_Geri_Spina">The argument of the second Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Cistio <i>a Baker, by a witty answere which he gave unto</i> -Messer Geri Spina, <i>caused him to acknowledge a very -indiscreet motion, which he had made to the said</i> Cistio.</p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Approving, that a request ought to be civill, before -it should be granted to any one whatsoever.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Madame_Nonna_de_Pulci_by_a_sodaine_answere_did_put_to_silence_a_Byshop">The Argument of the third Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Madam Nonna de Pulci, <i>by a sodaine answere, did put -to silence a Bishop of</i> Florence, <i>and the Lord Marshall: -having mooved a question to the said Lady, which seemed -to come short of honesty.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is declared, that mockers doe sometimes -meet with their matches in mockery, and to -their owne shame.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Chichibio_the_Cooke_to_Messer_Currado_Gianfiliazzi_by_a_sodaine_pleasant">The Argument of the fourth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Chichibio, <i>the Cooke to</i> Messer Currado Gianfiliazzi, -<i>by a sodaine pleasant answere which he made to his Master; -converted his anger into laughter, and thereby escaped -the punishment, that</i> Messer <i>meant to impose on him.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Whereby plainely appeareth, that a sodaine witty, -and merry answere, doth oftentimes appease the furious -choller of an angry man.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Messer_Forese_da_Rabatte_and_Maister_Giotto_a_Painter_by_his_profession">The Argument of the fift Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Messer Forese da Rabatte, <i>and Maister</i> Giotto, <i>a -Painter by his profession, comming together from</i> Mugello, -<i>scornefully reprehended one another for their deformity -of body.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Whereby may be observed, that such as will speake -contemptibly of others, ought (first of all) to looke -respectively on their owne imperfections.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#A_young_and_ingenious_Scholler_being_unkindly_reviled_and_smitten_by_his_ignorant">The Argument of the sixt Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>A young and ingenious Scholler, being unkindly reviled and -smitten by his ignorant Father, and through the procurement -of an unlearned Vicare; afterward attained to bee -doubly revenged on him.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Serving as an advertisement to unlearned Parents, -not to be over-rash, in censuring on Schollers imperfections, -through any bad or unbeseeming perswasions.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Madam_Phillippa_being_accused_by_her_Husband_Rinaldo_de_Pugliese">The Argument of the seaventh Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Madame Phillippa, <i>being accused by her Husband</i> Rinaldo -de Pugliese, <i>because he tooke her in Adultery, -with a young Gentleman named</i> Lazarino de Guazzagliotori: -<i>caused her to bee cited before a Judge. From whom -she delivered her selfe, by a sodaine, witty, and pleasant -answere, and moderated a severe strict Statute, formerly -made against women.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is declared, of what worth it is to confesse -a truth, with a facetious and witty excuse.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Fresco_da_Celatico_counselled_and_advised_his_Neece_Cesca_That_if_such">The Argument of the eighth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Fresco da Celatico, <i>counselled and advised his Neece</i> -Cesca: <i>That if such as deserved to bee looked on, were -offensive to her eyes (as she had often told him;) she should -forbeare to looke on any.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>In just scorne of such unsightly and ill-pleasing -surly Sluts, who imagine none to bee faire or well-favoured, -but themselves.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Signior_Guido_Cavalcante_with_a_sodaine_and_witty_answer_reprehended">The Argument of the ninth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Signior Guido Cavalcante, <i>with a sodaine and witty answere, -reprehended the rash folly of certaine Florentine -Gentlemen, that thought to scorne and flout him.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Notably discovering the great difference that is -betweene learning and ignorance, upon Judicious -apprehension.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Fryer_Onyon_promised_certaine_honest_people_of_the_Countrey_to_shew_them">The Argument of the tenth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Frier</i> Onyon <i>promised certaine honest people of the Country, -to shew them a Feather of the same Phoenix, that was -with</i> Noah <i>in his Arke. In sted whereof, he found Coales, -which he avouched to be those very coales, wherewith the -same Phoenix was roasted.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein may be observed, what palpable abuses -doe many times passe, under the counterfeit Cloake -of Religion.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3><a href="#The_Seventh_Day">THE -SEAVENTH DAY,<br /> -Governed under the Regiment -of <span class="smcap">Dioneus</span>.</a></h3> - -<p><i>Wherein the Discourses are directed, for the discovery -of such policies and deceits, as women -have used for beguiling of their Husbands, either -in respect of their love, or for the prevention -of some blame or scandall; escaping without -sight, knowledge, or otherwise.</i></p> - - -<h4><a href="#John_of_Lorraine_heard_one_knocke_at_his_doore_in_the_night_time_whereuppon">The Argument of the first Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>John <i>of</i> Lorraine <i>heard one knocke at his doore in -the night time, whereupon he awaked his Wife</i> Monna -Tessa. <i>Shee made him beleeve, that it was a -Spirit which knocked at the doore, and so they arose, going -both together to conjure the Spirit with a charme; -and afterwards, they heard no more knocking.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Reprehending the simplicity of some sottish Husbands: -And discovering the wanton subtilties of -some women, to compasse their unlawfull desires.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Peronella_hid_a_young_man_her_friend_and_Lover_under_a_great_brewing_Fat">The Argument of the second Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Peronella <i>hid a young man her Friend and Lover, under a -great brewing Fat, uppon the sodaine returning home of -her Husband; who tolde her, that he had sold the saide Fat, -and brought him that bought it, to carry it away.</i> Peronella -<i>replyed, That shee had formerly solde it unto another, who -was now underneath it, to see whether it were whole and -sound, or no. Whereupon, he being come forth from under -it; shee caused her Husband to make it neate and cleane, -and so the last buyer carried it away.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is declared, what hard and narrow shifts -and distresses, such as be seriously linked in Love, -are many times enforced to undergoe: according as -their owne wit, and capacity of their surprizers, drive -them to extremities.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Friar_Reynard_falling_in_love_with_a_Gentlewoman_Wife_to_a_man_of_good">The Argument of the third Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Friar</i> Reynard, <i>falling in love with a Gentlewoman, Wife -to a man of good account; found the meanes to become her -Gossip. Afterward, he being conferring closely with her in -her Chamber, and her Husband comming sodainely thither: -she made him beleeve, that he came thither for no other ende; -but to cure his God-sonne by a charme, of a dangerous disease -which he had by wormes.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Serving as a friendly advertisement to married Women, -that Monks, Friars, and Priests may be none of -their Gossips, in regard of unavoydable perils ensuing -thereby.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Tofano_in_the_night_season_did_locke_his_wife_out_of_his_house_and_shee_not">The Argument of the fourth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Tofano <i>in the night season, did locke his Wife out of his -house, and she not prevailing to get entrance againe, by all -the entreaties shee could possibly use: made him beleeve -that shee had throwne her selfe into a Well, by casting a -great stone into the same Well.</i> Tofano <i>hearing the fall -of the stone into the Well, and being perswaded that it was -his Wife indeede; came forth of his house, and ranne to the -Welles side. In the meane while, his Wife gotte into the -house, made fast the doore against her Husband, and gave -him many reprochfull speeches.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is manifested, that the malice and subtilty -of a woman, surpasseth all the Art or wit in man.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#A_jealous_man_clouded_with_the_habite_of_a_Priest_became_the_Confessour_to">The Argument of the fift Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>A jealous man, clouded with the habite of a Priest, became -the Confessour to his owne Wife; who made him beleeve, -that she was deepely in love with a Priest, which came every -night, and lay with her. By meanes of which confession, -while her jealous Husband watched the doore of his -house; to surprise the Priest when he came: she that never -meant to doe amisse, had the company of a secret friend -who came over the toppe of the house to visite her, while -her foolish Husband kept the doore.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>In just scorne and mockery of such jealous Husbands, -that wil be idle headed upon no occasion. And -yet when they have good reason for it, doe least of all -suspect any such injury.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Madame_Isabella_delighting_in_the_company_of_her_affected_Friend_named">The Argument of the sixth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Madame</i> Isabella, <i>delighting in the company of her affected -friend, named</i> Lionello, <i>and she being likewise beloved -by</i> Signior Lambertuccio: <i>At the same time as shee -had entertained</i> Lionello, <i>she was also visited by</i> Lambertuccio. -<i>Her Husband returning home in the very instant; -she caused</i> Lambertuccio <i>to runne foorth with a drawne -sword in his hand, and (by that meanes) made an excuse sufficient -for</i> Lionello <i>to her Husband.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is manifestly discerned, that if Love be driven -to a narrow straite in any of his attempts; yet hee -can accomplish his purpose by some other supply.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Lodovico_discovered_to_his_Mistresse_Madame_Beatrix_how_amorously_he">The Argument of the seaventh Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Lodovico <i>discovered to his Mistresse Madame</i> Beatrix, -<i>how amourously he was affected to her. She cunningly sent</i> -Egano <i>her Husband into his garden, in all respects disguised -like herselfe; while (friendly)</i> Lodovico <i>conferred -with her the meane while. Afterward,</i> Lodovico <i>pretending -a lascivious allurement of his Mistresse, thereby to wrong -his honest Master, instead of her, beateth</i> Egano <i>soundly in -the Garden.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Whereby is declared, that such as keepe many honest -seeming servants, may sometime finde a knave -among them, and one that proves to bee over-sawcy -with his Master.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Arriguccio_Berlinghieri_became_immeasurably_jelous_of_his_Wife_Simonida">The Argument of the Eight Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Arriguccio Berlinghieri, <i>became immeasurably jealous of his Wife</i> -Simonida, <i>who fastened a thred about her great toe, for to serve as a -signall, when her amourous friend should come to visite her.</i> Arriguccio -<i>findeth the fallacy, and while he pursueth the amorous friend, shee -causeth her Maide to lie in her bed against his returne: whom he beateth -extreamly, cutting away the lockes of her haire (thinking he had -done all this violence to his Wife</i> Simonida:) <i>and afterward fetcheth -her Mother and Brethren, to shame her before them, and so be rid of -her. But they finding all his speeches to be false; and reputing him to be -a drunken jealous foole; all the blame and disgrace falleth on himselfe.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Whereby appeareth, that an Husband ought to be very well advised, -when he meaneth to discover any wrong offered by his Wife; except he -himselfe doe rashly run into all the shame and reproch.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Lydia_a_Lady_of_great_beauty_birth_and_honour_being_wife_to_Nicostratus">The Argument of the Ninth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Lydia, <i>a Lady of great beauty, birth, and honour, being Wife to</i> Nicostratus, -<i>Governour of</i> Argos, <i>falling in love with a Gentleman, named</i> -Pyrrhus; <i>was requested by him (as a true testimony of her unfeigned -affection) to performe three severall actions of her selfe. She did accomplish -them all, and imbraced and kissed</i> Pyrrhus <i>in the presence of</i> -Nicostratus; <i>by perswading him, that whatsoever he saw, was meerely -false.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is declared, that great Lords may sometime be deceived by -their wives, as well as men of meaner condition.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Two_Citizens_of_Siena_the_one_named_Tingoccio_Mini_the_other_Meucio">The Argument of the tenth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Two Citizens of</i> Sienna, <i>the one named</i> Tingoccio Mini, <i>and the other</i> -Meucio di Tora, <i>affected both one woman, called</i> Monna Mita, -<i>to whom the one of them was a Gossip. The Gossip dyed, and appeared -afterward to his companion, according as he had formerly promised -him to doe, and told him what strange wonders he had seene in the other -world.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein such men are covertly reprehended, who make no care or -conscience at all of those things that should preserve them from sinne.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3><a href="#THE_EIGHT_DAY">THE EIGHTH DAY,<br /> -Governed under Madame -<span class="smcap">Lauretta</span>.</a></h3> - -<p><i>Whereon all the Discourses, is, Concerning such -Witty deceivings, as have, or may be put in practise, -by Wives to their Husbands, Husbands to -their Wives, Or one man towards another.</i></p> - - -<h4><a href="#Gulfardo_made_a_match_or_wager_with_the_Wife_of_Gasparuolo_for_the">The Argument of the First Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Gulfardo <i>made a match or wager, with the wife of</i> Gasparuolo, -<i>for the obtaining of her amorous favour, in regard of a -summe of money first to be given her. The money he borrowed -of her Husband, and gave it in payment to her, as in case of discharging -him from her Husbands debt. After his returne home from</i> -Geneway, <i>he told him in the presence of his wife, how hee had payde -the whole summe to her, with charge of delivering it to her Husband, -which she confessed to be true, albeit greatly against her will.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is declared, That such women as will make sale of their honestie, -are sometimes over-reached in their payment, and justly served -as they should be.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#A_lustie_youthfull_Priest_of_Varlungo_fell_in_love_with_a_pretty_woman_named">The Argument of the second Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>A lusty Priest of</i> Varlungo, <i>fell in love with a pretty woman, named</i> -Monna Belcolore. <i>To compasse his amorous desire, hee left his -cloake (as a pledge of further payment) with her. By a subtile sleight -afterward, he borrowed a morter of her, which when hee sent home againe -in the presence of her husband, he demanded to have his Cloake -sent him, as having left it in pawne for the Morter. To pacifie her Husband, -offended that she did not lend the Priest the Morter without a -pawne: she sent him backe his Cloake againe, albeit greatly against hir -will.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Approving, that no promise is to be kept with such women as will make -sale of their honesty for Coine.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Calandrino_Bruno_and_Buffalmaco_all_of_them_being_Painters_by">The Argument of the Third Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Calandrino, Bruno, <i>and</i> Buffalmaco, <i>being Painters by profession, -travailed to the Plaine of</i> Mugnone, <i>to finde the precious stone -called Helitropium.</i> Calandrino <i>perswading himselfe to have found -it, returned home to his house heavy loaden with stones. His wife rebuking -him for his absence, he groweth into anger, and shrewdly beates -her. Afterward, when the case is debated by his other friends</i> Bruno <i>&</i> -Buffalmaco, <i>all is found to be meere folly.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Reprehending the simplicity of such men, as are too much addicted to -credulity, and will give credit to every thing they heare.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#The_Provost_belonging_to_the_Cathedrall_Church_of_Fiesola_fell_in_love">The Argument of the Fourth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>The Provost belonging to the Cathedrall Church of</i> Fiesola, <i>fell in -love with a Gentlewoman, being a widdow, and named</i> Piccarda, -<i>who hated him as much as he loved her. He immagining that he lay -with her: by the Gentlewomans Brethren, and the Bishop under whom -he served, was taken in bed with her Mayde, an ugly, foule, deformed -Slut.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is declared, how love oftentimes is so powerfull in aged men, -and driveth them to such doating, that it redoundeth to their great -disgrace and punishment.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Three_pleasant_Companions_plaide_a_merry_pranke_with_a_Judge_belonging">The Argument of the fift Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Three pleasant companions, plaid a merry prank with a Judge -(belonging to the Marquesate of</i> Ancona) <i>at</i> Florence, <i>at -such time as he sat on the bench, & hearing criminall causes.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Giving admonition, that for the managing of publike -affaires, no other persons are or ought to bee appointed, -but such as be honest, and meet to sit on the -seate of Authority.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Bruno_and_Buffalmaco_did_steale_a_young_Brawne_from_Calandrino">The Argument of the sixt Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Bruno <i>and</i> Buffalmaco <i>stole a young Brawne from</i> Calandrino, <i>and -for his recovery thereof, they used a kinde of pretended conjuration, -with Pils made of Ginger and strong Malmesey. But insted of this -application, they gave him two pils of a Dogges dates or dousets, confected -in Alloes, by meanes whereof they made him beleeve, that hee had -robd himselfe. And for feare they should report this theft to his Wife, -they made him to buy another Brawne.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is declared, how easily a plaine and simple man may bee -made a foole, when he dealeth with crafty companions.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#A_young_Gentleman_being_a_Scholler_fell_in_love_with_a_Ladie_named">The Argument of the seaventh Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>A young Gentleman being a Scholler, fell in love with a Ladie, named</i> -Helena, <i>she being a woman, and addicted in affection unto another -Gentleman. One whole night in cold winter, she caused the Scholler to -expect her comming, in an extreame frost and snow. In revenge whereof, -by his imagined Art and skill, he made her to stand naked on the top -of a Tower, the space of a whole day, and in the hot moneth of July, to be -Sun-burnt and bitten with Waspes and Flies.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Serving as an admonition to all Gentlewomen, not to mocke Gentlemen -Schollers, when they make meanes of love to them, except -they intend to seeke their owne shame by disgracing them.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Two_neere_dwelling_Neighbours_the_one_beeing_named_Spinelloccio">The Argument of the eighth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Two neere dwelling Neighbours, the one beeing named</i> Spinelloccio -Tavena, <i>and the other</i> Zeppa di Mino, <i>frequenting each -others company daily together;</i> Spinelloccio <i>Cuckolded his Friend -and Neighbour. Which happening to the knowledge of</i> Zeppa, <i>hee -prevailed so well with the Wife of</i> Spinelloccio, <i>that he being lockt up -in a Chest, hee revenged his wrong at that instant, so that neyther of -them complained of his misfortune.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is approved, that hee which offereth shame and disgrace -to his neighbour, may receive the like injury (if not worse) by the -same man.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Maestro_Simone_an_ydle-headed_Doctor_of_Physicke_was_throwne_by">The Argument of the Ninth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Maestro</i> Simone, <i>an idle headed Doctor of Physicke, was thrown by</i> -Bruno <i>and</i> Buffalmaco <i>into a common Leystall of filth: the Physitian -fondly beleeving, that (in the night time) he should be made one -of a new created company, who usually went to see wonders at</i> Corsica, -<i>and there in the Leystall they left him.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Approving, that titles of honour, learning, and dignity, are not alwayes -bestowne on the wisest men.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#A_Cicilian_Courtezane_named_Madame_Biancafiore_by_her_craftie">The Argument of the tenth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>A Cicilian Curtezan, named Madam</i> Biancafiore, <i>by her subtle policy -deceived a young Merchant called</i> Salabetto, <i>of all his mony he -had taken for his wares at</i> Palermo. <i>Afterward, he making shew of coming -thither againe with far richer Merchandises then before: made -the meanes to borrow a great summe of money, leaving her so base a -pawne, as well requited her for her former cousenage.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Approving, that such as meet with cunning Harlots, suffering them -selves to be deceyved, must sharpen their wits, to make them requitall -in the same kind.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3><a href="#THE_NINTH_DAY">THE NINTH DAY,<br /> -Governed under Madame -Æmillia.</a></h3> - -<p>Whereon, the Argument of each severall Discourse, is -not limited to any one peculiar subject: but everie -one remaineth at liberty, to speake of whatsoever -themselves best pleaseth.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Madam_Francesca_a_Widdow_of_Pistoya_being_affected_by_two_Florentine">The Argument of the first Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Madam</i> Francesca, <i>a Widow of</i> Pistoya, <i>being affected by two -Florentine Gentlemen, the one named</i> Rinuccio Palermini, -<i>and the other</i> Alessandro Chiarmontesi, <i>and she bearing -no good will to either of them, ingeniously freed her selfe from both -their importunate suites. One of them shee caused to lye as dead in a -grave, and the other to fetch him from thence: so neither of them accomplishing -what they were enjoyned, failed of their expectation.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Approving, that chast and honest women, ought rather to deny importunate -suiters, by subtle and ingenious means, then fall into the danger -of scandall and slander.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Madame_Usimbalda_Lady_Abbesse_of_a_Monastery_of_Nuns_in_Lombardie">The Argument of the second Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Madame</i> Usimbalda, <i>Lady Abbesse of a Monastery of Nuns in</i> Lombardie, -<i>arising hastily in the night time without a Candle, to take -one of her Daughter Nunnes in bed with a young Gentleman, whereof -she was enviously accused, by certaine of her other Sisters: The -Abbesse her selfe (being at the same time in bed with a Priest) imagining -to have put on her head her plaited vayle, put on the Priests -breeches. Which when the poore Nunne perceyved; by causing the -Abbesse to see her owne error, she got her selfe to be absolved, and had -the freer liberty afterward, to be more familiar with her friend, then -formerly she had bin.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Whereby is declared, that whosoever is desirous to reprehend sinne in -other men, should first examine himselfe, that he be not guiltie of -the same crime.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Master_Simon_the_Physitian_by_the_perswasions_of_Bruno_Buffalmaco">The Argument of the third Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Master</i> Simon <i>the Physitian, by the perswasions of</i> Bruno, Buffalmaco, -<i>and a third Companion, named</i> Nello, <i>made</i> Calandrino <i>to -beleeve, that he was conceived great with childe. And having Physicke -ministred to him for the disease: they got both good fatte Capons -and money of him, and so cured him, without any other manner -of deliverance.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Discovering the simplicity of some silly witted men, and how easie a -matter it is to abuse and beguile them.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Francesco_Fortarigo_played_away_all_that_he_had_at_Buonconvento">The Argument of the Fourth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Francesco Fortarigo, <i>played away all that he had at</i> Buonconvento, -<i>and likewise the money of</i> Francesco Aniolliero, <i>being his Master: -Then running after him in his shirt, and avouching that hee had -robbed him: he caused him to be taken by Pezants of the Country, -clothed himselfe in his Masters wearing garments, and (mounted -on his horse) rode thence to</i> Sienna, <i>leaving</i> Aniolliero <i>in his shirt, -and walked bare-footed.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Serving as an admonition to all men, for taking Gamesters and Drunkards -into their service.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Calandrino_became_extraordinarily_enamoured_of_a_young_Damosell">The Argument of the fifte Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Calandrino <i>became extraordinarily enamoured of a young Damosell, -named</i> Nicholetta. Bruno <i>prepared a Charme or writing for him, -avouching constantly to him, that so soone as he touched the Damosell -therewith, she should follow him whithersoever hee would have -her. She being gone to an appointed place with him, hee was found -there by his wife, and dealt withall according to his deserving.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>In just reprehension of those vaine-headed fooles, that are led and governed -by idle perswasions.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Two_young_Gentlemen_the_one_named_Panuccio_and_the_other_Adriano">The Argument of the Sixth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Two young Gentlemen, the one named</i> Panuccio, <i>and the other</i> Adriano, -<i>lodged one night in a poore Inne, whereof one of them went to -bed to the Hostes daughter, and the other (by mistaking his way in -the darke) to the Hostes wife. He which lay with the daughter, hapned -afterward to the Hostes bed, and told him what he had done, as -thinking he spake to his owne companion. Discontentment growing -betweene them, the mother perceiving her error, went to bed to her -daughter, and with discreete language, made a generall pacification.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is manifested, that an offence committed ignorantly, and -by mistaking; ought to be covered with good advise, and civill discretion.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Talano_de_Molese_dreamed_That_a_Wolfe_rent_and_tore_his_wives_face">The Argument of the seaventh Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Talano de Molese <i>dreamed, That a Wolfe rent and tore his wives face -and throate. Which dreame he told to her, with advise to keep her -selfe out of danger; which she refusing to doe, received what followed.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Whereby (with some indifferent reason) it is concluded, that Dreames -do not alwayes fall out to be leasings.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Blondello_in_a_merry_manner_caused_Guiotto_to_beguile_himselfe_of">The Argument of the Eight Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Blondello <i>(in a merry manner) caused</i> Guiotto <i>to beguile himselfe of -a good dinner: for which deceit,</i> Guiotto <i>became cunningly revenged, -by procuring</i> Blondello <i>to be unreasonably beaten and misused.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Whereby plainly appeareth, that they which take delight in deceiving -others, do well deserve to be deceived themselves.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Two_young_Gentlemen_the_one_named_Melisso_borne_in_the_City_of_Laiazzo">The Argument of the Ninth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Two young Gentlemen, the one named</i> Melisso, <i>borne in the City of</i> Laiazzo: -<i>and the other</i> Giosefo <i>of</i> Antioch, <i>travailed together unto</i> -Salomon, <i>the famous King of</i> Great Britaine. <i>The one desiring to -learne what he should do, whereby to compasse and winne the love of -men. The other craved to be enstructed, by what meanes hee might -reclaime an headstrong and unruly wife. And what answeres the -wise King gave unto them both, before they departed away from -him.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Containing an excellent admonition, that such as covet to have the -love of other men, must first learne themselves, how to love: Also, by -what meanes such women as are curst and self willed, may be reduced -to civill obedience.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#John_de_Barolo_at_the_instance_and_request_of_his_Gossip_Pietro_da">The Argument of the tenth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>John de Barolo, <i>at the instance and request of his Gossip</i> Pietro da -Trefanti, <i>made an enchantment, to have his Wife become a Mule. -And when it came to the fastening on of the taile, Gossip</i> Pietro <i>by -saying she should have no taile at all, spoyled the whole enchantment.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>In just reproofe of such foolish men, as will be governed by over-light -beleefe.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<h3><a href="#The_Tenth_and_last_Day">THE TENTH DAY,<br /> -Governed under Pamphilus.</a></h3> - -<p><i>Whereon the severall Arguments doe Concerne -such persons, as other by way of Liberality, or -in Magnificent manner, performed any worthy -action, for love, favor, friendship, or any other -honourable occasion.</i></p> - - -<h4><a href="#A_Florentine_knight_named_Signior_Rogiero_de_Figiovanni_became">The Argument of the First Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>A Florentine knight, named Signior</i> Rogiero de Figiovanni, -<i>became a servant to</i> Alphonso, <i>King of</i> Spaine, <i>who (in -his owne opinion) seemed but sleightly to respect and reward -him. In regard whereof, by a notable experiment, the King gave him -a manifest testimony, that it was not through any defect in him, but -onely occasioned by the Knights ill fortune; most bountifully recompensing -him afterward.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein may evidently be discerned, that Servants to Princes and great -Lords, are many times recompenced, rather by their good fortune, -then in any regard of their dutifull services.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Ghinotto_di_Tacco_tooke_the_Lord_Abbot_of_Clugni_as_his_prisoner">The Argument of the second Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Ghinotto di Tacco; <i>tooke the Lord Abbot of</i> Clugni <i>as his prisoner, -and cured him of a grievous disease, which he had in his stomacke, -and afterward set him at liberty. The same Lord Abbot, when hee -returned from the Court of Rome, reconciled</i> Ghinotto <i>to Pope</i> Boniface; -<i>who made him a Knight, and Lord Prior of a goodly Hospitall.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is declared that good men doe sometimes fall into bad conditions, -onely occasioned thereto by necessity: And what meanes are to -be used, for their reducing to goodnesse againe.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Mithridanes_envying_the_life_and_liberality_of_Nathan_and_travelling">The Argument of the third Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Mithridanes <i>envying the life and liberality of</i> Nathan, <i>and travelling -thither, with a setled resolution to kill him: chaunceth to conferre -with</i> Nathan <i>unknowne. And being instructed by him, in what -manner he might best performe the bloody deede, according as hee -gave direction, hee meeteth with him in a small Thicket or Woode, -where knowing him to be the same man, that taught him how to -take away his life: Confounded with shame, hee acknowledgeth his -horrible intention, and becommeth his loyall friend.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Shewing in an excellent and lively demonstration, that any especiall -honourable vertue, persevering and dwelling in a truly noble soule, -cannot be violenced or confounded, by the most politicke attemptes -of malice and envy.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Signior_Gentile_de_Carisendi_being_come_from_Modena_took_a_Gentlewoman">The Argument of the fourth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Signior Gentile de Carisendi, <i>being come from</i> Modena, <i>tooke a Gentlewoman, -named Madam</i> Catharina, <i>forth of a grave, wherein she -was buried for dead; which act he did, in regard of his former honest -affection to the said Gentlewoman. Madame</i> Catharina <i>remaining -there afterward, and delivered of a goodly Sonne: was (by</i> Signior -Gentile) <i>delivered to her owne Husband; named</i> Signior Nicoluccio -Caccianimico, <i>and the young infant with her.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is shewne, That true love hath alwayes bin, and so still is, the -occasion of many great and worthy courtesies.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Madame_Dianora_the_Wife_of_Signior_Gilberto_being_immodestly">The Argument of the Fift Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Madame</i> Dianora, <i>the Wife of Signior</i> Gilberto, <i>being immodestly -affected by Signior</i> Ansaldo, <i>to free herselfe from his tedious importunity, -she appointed him to performe (in her judgement) an act -of impossibility; namely, to give her a Garden, as plentifully stored -with fragrant Flowers in January, as in the flourishing moneth of</i> -May. Ansaldo, <i>by meanes of a bond which he made to a Magitian, -performed her request. Signior</i> Gilberto, <i>the Ladyes Husband, -gave consent, that his Wife should fulfill her promise made to</i> -Ansaldo. <i>Who hearing the bountifull mind of her Husband; released -her of her promise: And the Magitian likewise discharged -Signior</i> Ansaldo, <i>without taking any thing of him.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Admonishing all Ladies and Gentlewomen, that are desirous to preserve -their chastity, free from all blemish and taxation: to make no -promise of yeelding to any, under a compact or covenant, how impossible -soever it may seeme to be.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Victorious_King_Charles_sirnamed_the_Aged_and_first_of_that_Name">The Argument of the Sixt Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>Victorious</i> King Charles, <i>sirnamed the Aged, and first of that Name, -fell in love with a young Maiden, named</i> Genevera, <i>daughter to an -Ancient Knight, called Signior</i> Neri degli Uberti. <i>And waxing ashamed -of his Amorous folly, caused both</i> Genevera, <i>and her fayre -Sister</i> Isotta, <i>to be joyned in marriage with two Noble Gentlemen; -the one named</i> Signior Maffeo da Palizzi, <i>and the other,</i> Signior -Gulielmo della Magna.</p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Sufficiently declaring, that how mighty soever the power of Love is: -yet a magnanimous and truly generous heart, it can by no meanes -fully conquer.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Lisana_the_Daughter_of_a_Florentine_Apothecary_named_Bernardo">The Argument of the seaventh Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Lisana, <i>the Daughter of a Florentine Apothecary, named</i> Bernardo -Puccino, <i>being at</i> Palermo, <i>and seeing</i> Piero, <i>King of</i> Aragon <i>run -at the Tilt; fell so affectionately enamored of him, that she languished -in an extreame and long sickenesse. By her owne devise, and means -of a Song, sung in the hearing of the King: he vouchsafed to visite -her, and giving her a kisse, terming himselfe also to bee her Knight -for ever after, hee honourably bestowed her in marriage on a young -Gentleman, who was called</i> Perdicano, <i>and gave him liberall endowments -with her.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Wherein is covertly given to understand, that howsoever a Prince -may make use of his absolute power and authority, towards Maides -or Wives that are his Subjects: yet he ought to deny and reject all -things, as shall make him forgetfull of himselfe, and his true honour.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Sophronia_thinking_her_selfe_to_be_the_maried_wife_of_Gisippus_was">The Argument of the Eight Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Sophronia, <i>thinking her selfe to be the maried wife of</i> Gisippus, <i>was -(indeed) the wife of</i> Titus Quintus Fulvius, <i>& departed thence with -him to Rome. Within a while after,</i> Gisippus <i>also came thither in very -poore condition, and thinking that he was despised by</i> Titus, <i>grew weary -of his life, and confessed that he had murdred a man, with full intent -to die for the fact. But</i> Titus <i>taking knowledge of him, and desiring to -save the life of</i> Gisippus, <i>charged himself to have done the bloody deed. -Which the murderer himself (standing then among the multitude) seeing, -truly confessed the deed. By meanes whereof, all three were delivered -by the Emperor</i> Octavius; <i>and</i> Titus <i>gave his Sister in mariage to</i> -Gisippus, <i>giving them also the most part of his goods & inheritances.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Declaring, that notwithstanding the frownes of Fortune, diversity -of occurrences, and contrary accidents happening: yet love and friendship -ought to be preciously preserved among men.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#Saladine_the_great_Soldan_of_Babylon_in_the_habite_of_a_Merchant">The Argument of the Ninth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p>Saladine, <i>the great</i> Soldan <i>of</i> Babylon, <i>in the habite of a Merchant, -was honourably received and welcommed, into the house of Signior</i> -Thorello d'Istria. <i>Who travelling to the Holy Land, prefixed a -certaine time to his Wife, for his returne backe to her againe, wherein, -if he failed, it was lawfull for her to take another Husband. By -clouding himselfe in the disguise of a Faulkner, the</i> Soldan <i>tooke -notice of him, and did him many great honours. Afterward,</i> Thorello -<i>falling sicke, by Magicall Art, he was conveighed in one night -to</i> Pavia, <i>when his Wife was to be married on the morrow: where -making himselfe knowne to her, all was disappointed, and shee went -home with him to his owne house.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Declaring what an honourable vertue Courtesie is, in them that truely -know how to use them.</p> - - -<h4><a href="#The_Marquesse_of_Saluzzo_named_Gualtiero_being_constrained_by">The Argument of the tenth Novell.</a></h4> - -<p><i>The Marquesse of</i> Saluzzo, <i>named</i> Gualtiero, <i>being constrained by -the importunate solliciting of his Lords, and other inferiour people, to -joyne himselfe in marriage; tooke a woman according to his owne liking, -called</i> Grizelda, <i>she being the daughter of a poore Countriman, -named</i> Janiculo, <i>by whom he had two children, which he pretended to -be secretly murdered. Afterward, they being grown to yeres of more -stature, and making shew of taking in marriage another wife, more -worthy of his high degree and Calling: made a seeming publique liking -of his owne daughter, expulsing his wife</i> Grizelda <i>poorely from -him. But finding her incomparable patience; more dearely (then before) -hee received her into favour againe, brought her home to his -owne Pallace, where (with her children) hee caused her and them to -be respectively honoured, in despight of all her adverse enemies.</i></p> - -<h4><i>The Morall.</i></h4> - -<p>Set downe as an example or warning to all wealthie men, how to have -care of marrying themselves. And likewise to poore and meane women, -to be patient in their fortunes, and obedient to their husbands.</p></blockquote> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="THE_SIXT_DAY" id="THE_SIXT_DAY">THE SIXT DAY.</a></h2> - -<h4><i>Governed under the Authority of Madam Eliza, and the Argument of the -Discourses or Novels there to be recounted, doe concerne such persons; who -by some witty words (when any have checkt or taunted them) have revenged -themselves, in a sudden, unexpected and discreet answere, thereby -preventing loss, danger, scorne and disgrace, retorting them on the busi-headed -Questioners.</i></h4> - -<h4>The Induction.</h4> - - -<p>The Moone having past the heaven, lost -her bright splendor, by the arising of a -more powerfull light, and every part of -our world began to looke cleare: when -the Queene (being risen) caused all the -Company to be called, walking forth afterward -upon the pearled dewe (so farre -as was supposed convenient) in faire and -familiar conference together, according -as severally they were disposed, & repetition -of divers the passed Novels, especially -those which were most pleasing, and seemed so by their present commendations. -But the Sunne beeing somewhat higher mounted, gave -such a sensible warmth to the ayre, as caused their returne backe to the -Pallace, where the Tables were readily covered against their comming, -strewed with sweet hearbes and odoriferous flowers, seating themselves -at the Tables (before the heat grew more violent) according as the -Queene commanded.</p> - -<p>After dinner, they sung divers excellent Canzonnets, and then some -went to sleepe, others played at the Chesse, and some at the Tables: -But <i>Dioneus</i> and Madam <i>Lauretta</i>, they sung the love-conflict betweene -<i>Troylus</i> and <i>Cressida</i>. Now was the houre come, of repairing to their -former Consistory or meeting place, the Queene having thereto generally -summoned them, and seating themselves (as they were wont to doe) -about the faire fountaine. As the Queene was commanding to begin -the first Novell, an accident suddenly happened, which never had befalne -before: to wit, they heard a great noyse and tumult, among the -houshold servants in the Kitchin. Whereupon, the Queene caused the -Master of the Houshold to be called, demaunding of him, what noyse it -was, and what might be the occasion thereof? He made answere, that -<i>Lacisca</i> and <i>Tindaro</i> were at some words of discontentment, but what -was the occasion thereof, he knew not. Whereupon, the Queene commanded -that they should be sent for, (their anger and violent speeches -still continuing) and being come into her presence, she demaunded the -reason of their discord; and <i>Tindaro</i> offering to make answere, <i>Lacisca</i> -(being somewhat more ancient then he, and of a fiercer fiery spirit, even -as if her heart would have leapt out of her mouth) turned her selfe to -him, and with a scornefull frowning countenance, said. See how this -bold, unmannerly and beastly fellow, dare presume to speake in this -place before me: Stand by (saucy impudence) and give your better -leave to answere; then turning to the Queene, thus shee proceeded.</p> - -<p>Madam, this idle fellow would maintaine to me, that Signior <i>Sicophanto</i> -marrying with <i>Madama della Grazza</i>, had the victory of her virginity -the very first night: and I avouched the contrary, because shee -had been a mother twise before, in very faire adventuring of her fortune. -And he dared to affirme beside, that young Maides are so simple, as -to loose the flourishing Aprill of their time, in meere feare of their parents, -and great prejudice of their amourous friends. Onely being abused -by infinite promises, that this yeare and that yeare they shall have -husbands, when, both by the lawes of nature and reason, they are not -tyed to tarry so long, but rather ought to lay hold upon opportunity, -when it is fairely and friendly offered, so that seldome they come maides -to marriage. Beside, I have heard, and know some married wives, that -have played divers wanton prancks with their husbands, yet carried all -so demurely and smoothly; that they have gone free from publique detection. -All which this woodcocke will not credit, thinking me to be so -young a Novice, as if I had been borne but yesterday.</p> - -<p>While <i>Lacisca</i> was delivering these speeches, the Ladies smiled on -one another, not knowing what to say in this case: And although the -Queene (five and or severall times) commaunded her to silence; yet -such was the earnestnes of her spleen, that she gave no attention, but held -on still even untill she had uttered all that she pleased. But after she had -concluded her complaint, the Queene (with a smiling countenance) -turned towards <i>Dioneus</i> saying. This matter seemeth most properly to -belong to you; and therefore I dare repose such trust in you, that when -our Novels (for this day) shall be ended, you will conclude the case -with a definitive sentence. Whereto <i>Dioneus</i> presently thus replyed. -Madam, the verdict is already given, without any further expectation: -and I affirme, that <i>Lacisca</i> hath spoken very sensibly, because shee is a -woman of good apprehension, and <i>Tindaro</i> is but a puny, in practise and -experience, to her.</p> - -<p>When <i>Lacisca</i> heard this, she fell into a lowd Laughter, and turning -her selfe to <i>Tindaro</i>, sayde: The honour of the day is mine, and -thine owne quarrell hath overthrowne thee in the fielde. Thou that -(as yet) hath scarsely learned to sucke, wouldest thou presume to know -so much as I doe? Couldst thou imagine mee, to be such a trewant in -losse of my time, that I came hither as an ignorant creature? And had -not the Queene (looking verie frowningly on her) strictly enjoyned -her to silence; shee would have continued still in this triumphing humour. -But fearing further chastisement for disobedience, both shee -and <i>Tindaro</i> were commanded thence, where was no other allowance -all this day, but onely silence and attention, to such as should be enjoyned -speakers.</p> - -<p>And then the Queene, somewhat offended at the folly of the former -controversie, commanded Madame <i>Philomena</i>, that she should give beginning -to the dayes Novels: which (in dutifull manner) shee undertooke -to doe, and seating her selfe in formall fashion, with modest and -very gracious gesture, thus she began.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="A_Knight_requested_Madam_Oretta_to_ride_behinde_him_on_horse-backe_and" id="A_Knight_requested_Madam_Oretta_to_ride_behinde_him_on_horse-backe_and"><i>A Knight requested Madam</i> Oretta, <i>to ride behinde him on horse-backe, and -promised, to tell her an excellent Tale by the way. But the Lady perceiving, -that his discourse was idle, and much worse delivered: entreated him to -let her walke on foote againe.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The First Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Reprehending the folly of such men, as undertake to report discourses, which -are beyond their wit and capacity, and gaine nothing but blame for their labour.</i></h4> - - -<p>Gracious Ladies, like as in our faire, cleere, and -serene seasons, the Starres are bright ornaments -to the heavens, and the flowry fields (so long as -the spring time lasteth) weare their goodliest Liveries, -the Trees likewise bragging in their best -adornings: Even so at friendly meetings, short, -sweet, and sententious words, are the beauty & -ornament of any discourse, savouring of wit and -sound judgement, worthily deserving to be commended. And so much -the rather, because in few and witty words, aptly suting with the time -and occasion, more is delivered then was expected, or sooner answered, -then rashly apprehended: which, as they become men verie highly, yet -do they shew more singular in women.</p> - -<p>True it is, what the occasion may be, I know not, either by the badnesse -of our wittes, or the especiall enmitie betweene our complexions -and the celestiall bodies: there are scarsely any, or very few Women to -be found among us, that well knowes how to deliver a word, when it -should and ought to be spoken; or, if a question bee mooved, understands -to suite it with an apt answere, such as conveniently is required, -which is no meane disgrace to us women. But in regard, that Madame -<i>Pampinea</i> hath already spoken sufficiently of this matter, I meane not to -presse it any further: but at this time it shall satisfie mee, to let you -know, how wittily a Ladie made due observation of opportunitie, -in answering of a Knight, whose talke seemed tedious and offensive to -her.</p> - -<p>No doubt there are some among you, who either do know, or (at -the least) have heard, that it is no long time since, when there dwelt a -Gentlewoman in our Citie, of excellent grace and good discourse, with -all other rich endowments of Nature remaining in her, as pitty it were -to conceale her name: and therefore let me tell ye, that shee was called -Madame <i>Oretta</i>, the Wife to Signior <i>Geri Spina</i>. She being upon some -occasion (as now we are) in the Countrey, and passing from place to -place (by way of neighbourly invitations) to visite her loving Friends -and Acquaintance, accompanied with divers Knights and Gentlewomen, -who on the day before had dined and supt at her house, as now -(belike) the selfe-same courtesie was intended to her: walking along with -her company upon the way; and the place for her welcome beeing further -off then she expected: a Knight chanced to overtake this faire troop, -who well knowing Madam <i>Oretta</i>, using a kinde and courteous salutation, -spake thus unto her.</p> - -<p>Madam, this foot travell may bee offensive to you, and were you so -well pleased as my selfe, I would ease your journey behinde mee on my -Gelding, even so farre as you shall command me: and beside, wil shorten -your wearinesse with a Tale worth the hearing. Courteous Sir (replyed -the Lady) I embrace your kinde offer with such acceptation, that -I pray you to performe it; for therein you shall doe me an especiall favour. -The Knight, whose Sword (perhappes) was as unsuteable to -his side, as his wit out of fashion for any readie discourse, having the -Lady mounted behinde him: rode on with a gentle pace, and (according -to his promise) began to tell a Tale, which indeede (of it selfe) deserved -attention, because it was a knowne and commendable History, -but yet delivered so abruptly, with idle repetitions of some particulars -three or foure severall times, mistaking one thing for another, and -wandering erroneously from the essentiall subject, seeming neere an -end, and then beginning againe: that a poore Tale could not possibly -be more mangled, or worse tortured in telling, then this was; for the -persons therein concerned, were so abusively nicke-named, their actions -and speeches so monstrously misshapen, that nothing could appeare -to be more ugly.</p> - -<p>Madame <i>Oretta</i>, being a Lady of unequalled ingenuitie, admirable -in judgement, and most delicate in her speech, was afflicted in soule, beyond -all measure; overcome with many colde sweates, and passionate -heart-aking qualmes, to see a Foole thus in a Pinne-fold, and unable to -get out, albeit the doore stood wide open to him, whereby shee became -so sicke; that, converting her distaste to a kinde of pleasing acceptation, -merrily thus she spake. Beleeve me Sir, your horse trots so hard, & travels -so uneasily; that I entreate you to let me walke on foot againe.</p> - -<p>The Knight, being (perchance) a better understander, then a Discourser; -perceived by this witty taunt, that his Bowle had run a contrarie -bias, and he as farre out of Tune, as he was from the Towne. So, -lingering the time, untill her company was neerer arrived: hee lefte -her with them, and rode on as his Wisedome could best direct him.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Cistio_a_Baker_by_a_wittie_answer_which_he_gave_unto_Messer_Geri_Spina" id="Cistio_a_Baker_by_a_wittie_answer_which_he_gave_unto_Messer_Geri_Spina">Cistio <i>a Baker, by a wittie answer which he gave unto</i> Messer Geri Spina, -<i>caused him to acknowledge a very indiscreete motion, which he had made -to the said</i> Cistio.</a></h4> - -<h2>The Second Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Approving, that a request ought to be civill, before it should be granted to any -one whatsoever.</i></h4> - - -<p>The words of Madame <i>Oretta</i>, were much commended by the -men and women; and the discourse being ended, the Queene -gave command to Madam <i>Pampinea</i>, that shee should follow -next in order, which made her to begin in this manner.</p> - -<p>Worthy Ladies, it exceedeth the power of my capacitie, to censure -in the case whereof I am to speake, by saying, who sinned most, either -Nature, in seating a Noble soule in a vile body, or Fortune, in bestowing -on a body (beautified with a noble soule) a base or wretched condition -of life. As we may observe by <i>Cistio</i>, a Citizen of our owne, and -many more beside; for, this <i>Cistio</i> beeing endued with a singular good -spirit, Fortune hath made him no better then a Baker. And beleeve me -Ladies, I could (in this case) lay as much blame on Nature, as on Fortune; -if I did not know Nature to be most absolutely wise, & that Fortune -hath a thousand eyes, albeit fooles have figured her to bee blinde. -But, upon more mature and deliberate consideration, I finde, that they -both (being truly wise and judicious) have dealt justly, in imitation of -our best advised mortals, who being uncertaine of such inconveniences, -as may happen unto them, do bury (for their own benefit) the very best -and choisest things of esteeme, in the most vile and abject places of their -houses, as being subject to least suspition, and where they may be sure to -have them at all times, for supply of any necessitie whatsoever, because -so base a conveyance hath better kept them, then the very best chamber -in the house could have done. Even so these two great commanders of -the world, do many times hide their most precious Jewels of worth, under -the clouds of Arts or professions of worst estimation, to the end, that -fetching them thence when neede requires, their splendor may appeare -to be the more glorious. Nor was any such matter noted in our homely -Baker <i>Cistio</i>, by the best observation of <i>Messer Geri Spina</i>, who was spoken -of in the late repeated Novell, as being the husband to Madame <i>Oretta</i>; -whereby this accident came to my remembrance, and which (in a -short Tale) I will relate unto you.</p> - -<p>Let me then tell ye, that Pope <i>Boniface</i> (with whom the fore-named -<i>Messer Geri Spina</i> was in great regard) having sent divers Gentlemen of -his Court to <i>Florence</i> as Ambassadors, about very serious and important -businesse: they were lodged in the house of <i>Messer Geri Spina</i>, and -he employed (with them) in the saide Popes negotiation. It chanced, -that as being the most convenient way for passage, every morning they -walked on foot by the Church of Saint <i>Marie d'Ughi</i>, where <i>Cistio</i> the -Baker dwelt, and exercised the trade belonging to him. Now although -Fortune had humbled him to so meane a condition, yet shee added a -blessing of wealth to that contemptible quality, and (as smiling on him -continually) no disasters at any time befell him, but still he flourished in -riches, lived like a jolly Citizen, with all things fitting for honest entertainment -about him, and plenty of the best Wines (both White and -Claret) as <i>Florence</i>, or any part thereabout yeelded.</p> - -<p>Our frolicke Baker perceiving, that <i>Messer Geri Spina</i> and the other -Ambassadors, used every morning to passe by his doore, and afterward -to returne backe the same way: seeing the season to be somewhat hot & -soultry, he tooke it as an action of kindnesse and courtesie, to make them -an offer of tasting his white wine. But having respect to his own meane -degree, and the condition of <i>Messer Geri</i>; hee thought it farre unfitting -for him, to be so forward in such presumption; but rather entred into -consideration of some such meanes, whereby <i>Messer Geri</i> might bee the -inviter of himselfe to taste his Wine. And having put on him a trusse -or thin doublet, of very white and fine Linnen cloath, as also breeches, -and an apron of the same, and a white cap upon his head, so that he seemed -rather to be a Miller, then a Baker: at such times as <i>Messer Geri</i> and -the Ambassadors should daily passe by, hee set before his doore a new -Bucket of faire water, and another small vessell of <i>Bologna</i> earth (as new -and sightly as the other) full of his best and choisest white Wine, with -two small Glasses, looking like silver, they were so cleare. Downe he -sate, with all this provision before him, and emptying his stomacke -twice or thrice, of some clotted flegmes which seemed to offend it: even -as the Gentlemen were passing by, he dranke one or two rouses of his -Wine so heartily, and with such a pleasing appetite, as might have moved -a longing (almost) in a dead man.</p> - -<p><i>Messer Geri</i> well noting his behaviour, and observing the verie same -course in him two mornings together; on the third day (as he was drinking) -he said unto him. Well done <i>Cistio</i>, what, is it good, or no? <i>Cistio</i> -starting up, forthwith replyed: Yes Sir, the wine is good indeed, but how -can I make you to beleeve me, except you taste of it? <i>Messer Geri</i>, eyther -in regard of the times quality, or by reason of his paines taken, perhaps -more then ordinary, or else, because hee saw <i>Cistio</i> had drunke so -sprightly, was very desirous to taste of the Wine, and turning unto the -Ambassadors, in merriment he saide. My Lords, me thinks it were not -much amisse, if we tooke a taste of this honest mans Wine, perhaps it is -so good, that we shall not neede to repent our labour.</p> - -<p>Heereupon, he went with them to <i>Cistio</i>, who had caused an handsome -seate to be fetched forth of his house, whereon he requested them -to sit downe, and having commanded his men to wash cleane the Glasses, -he saide. Fellowes, now get you gone, and leave me to the performance -of this service; for I am no worse a skinker, then a Baker, and tarry -you never so long, you shall not drinke a drop. Having thus spoken, -himselfe washed foure or five small glasses, faire and new, and causing a -Viall of his best wine to be brought him: hee diligently filled it out to -<i>Messer Geri</i> and the Ambassadours, to whom it seemed the very best -Wine, that they had drunke of in a long while before. And having given -<i>Cistio</i> most hearty thankes for his kindnesse, and the Wine his due -commendation: many dayes afterwardes (so long as they continued -there) they found the like courteous entertainment, and with the good -liking of honest <i>Cistio</i>.</p> - -<p>But when the affayres were fully concluded, for which they were thus -sent to <i>Florence</i>, and their parting preparation in due readinesse: <i>Messer -Geri</i> made a very sumptuous Feast for them, inviting thereto the most -part of the honourablest Citizens, and <i>Cistio</i> to be one amongst them; -who (by no meanes) would bee seene in an assembly of such State and -pompe, albeit he was thereto (by the saide <i>Messer Geri</i>) most earnestly -entreated.</p> - -<p>In regard of which deniall, <i>Messer Geri</i> commaunded one of his servants, -to take a small Bottle, and request <i>Cistio</i> to fill it with his good -Wine; then afterward, to serve it in such sparing manner to the Table, -that each Gentleman might be allowed halfe a glasse-full at their down-sitting. -The Serving-man, who had heard great report of the Wine, -and was halfe offended, because he could never taste thereof: tooke a -great Flaggon Bottle, containing foure or five Gallons at the least, and -comming there-with unto <i>Cistio</i>, saide unto him. <i>Cistio</i>, because my -Master cannot have your companie among his friends, he prayes you -to fill this Bottle with your best Wine. <i>Cistio</i> looking uppon the huge -Flaggon, replied thus. Honest Fellow, <i>Messer Geri</i> never sent thee -with such a Message to me: which although the Servingman very stoutly -maintained, yet getting no other answer, he returned backe therewith -to his Master.</p> - -<p><i>Messer Geri</i> returned the Servant backe againe unto <i>Cistio</i>, saying: -Goe, and assure <i>Cistio</i>, that I sent thee to him, and if hee make thee any -more such answeres, then demaund of him, to what place else I -should send thee? Being come againe to <i>Cistio</i>, hee avouched that his -Maister had sent him, but <i>Cistio</i> affirming, that hee did not: the Servant -asked, to what place else hee should send him? Marrie (quoth -<i>Cistio</i>) unto the River of <i>Arno</i>, which runneth by <i>Florence</i>, there thou -mayest be sure to fill thy Flaggon. When the Servant had reported -this answer to <i>Messer Geri</i>, the eyes of his understanding beganne to open, -and calling to see what Bottle hee had carried with him: no sooner -looked he on the huge Flaggon, -but severely reproving the -sawcinesse of his Servant, hee -sayde. Now trust mee, <i>Cistio</i> -told thee nothing but trueth, for -neither did I send thee with any -such dishonest message, nor had -the reason to yeeld or grant it.</p> - -<p>Then he sent him with a bottle -of more reasonable competencie, -which so soone as <i>Cistio</i> -saw: Yea mary my friend, quoth -he, now I am sure that thy Master -sent thee to me, and he shall -have his desire with all my hart. -So, commaunding the Bottle to -be filled, he sent it away by the -Servant, and presently following -after him, when he came unto <i>Messer Geri</i>, he spake unto him after -this manner. Sir, I would not have you to imagine, that the huge flaggon -(which first came) did any jotte dismay mee; but rather I conceyved, -that the small Viall whereof you tasted every morning, yet filled many -mannerly Glasses together, was fallen quite out of your remembrance; -in plainer tearmes, it beeing no Wine for Groomes or Peazants, -as your selfe affirmed yesterday. And because I meane to bee -a Skinker no longer, by keeping Wine to please any other pallate -but mine owne: I have sent you halfe my store, and heereafter thinke -of mee as you shall please. <i>Messer Geri</i> tooke both his guifte and -speeches in most thankefull manner, accepting him alwayes after, as -his intimate Friend, because he had so graced him before the Ambassadours.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Madame_Nonna_de_Pulci_by_a_sodaine_answere_did_put_to_silence_a_Byshop" id="Madame_Nonna_de_Pulci_by_a_sodaine_answere_did_put_to_silence_a_Byshop">Madame Nonna de Pulci, <i>by a sodaine answere, did put to silence a Byshop -of</i> Florence, <i>and the Lord Marshall: having moved a question to the said -Lady, which seemed to come short of honesty.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Third Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is declared, that mockers do sometimes meete with their matches in -mockery, and to their owne shame.</i></h4> - - -<p>When Madame <i>Pampinea</i> had ended her Discourse, and -(by the whole company) the answere and bounty of <i>Cistio</i>, -had past with deserved commendation: it pleased -the Queene, that Madame <i>Lauretta</i> should next succeed: -whereupon verie chearefully thus she beganne.</p> - -<p>Faire assembly, Madame <i>Pampinea</i> (not long time since) gave beginning, -and Madam <i>Philomena</i> hath also seconded the same argument, -concerning the slender vertue remaining in our sexe, and likewise the -beautie of wittie words, delivered on apt occasion, and in convenient -meetings. Now, because it is needlesse to proceede any further, then -what hath beene already spoken: let mee onely tell you (over and beside) -and commit it to memorie, that the nature of meetings and speeches -are such, as they ought to nippe or touch the hearer, like unto the -Sheepes nibling on the tender grasse, and not as the sullen Dogge byteth. -For, if their biting be answereable to the Dogges, they deserve -not to be termed witty jests or quips, but foule and offensive language: -as plainly appeareth by the words of Madame <i>Oretta</i>, and the merry, yet -sensible answer of <i>Cistio</i>.</p> - -<p>True it is, that if it be spoken by way of answer, and the answerer biteth -doggedly, because himselfe was bitten in the same manner before: -he is the lesse to bee blamed, because hee maketh payment but with -coine of the same stampe. In which respect, an especiall care is to bee -had, how, when, with whom, and where we jest or gibe, whereof very -many proove too unmindfull, as appeared (not long since) by a Prelate -of ours, who met with a byting, no lesse sharpe and bitter, then -had first come from himselfe before, as verie briefely I intend to tell -you how.</p> - -<p><i>Messer Antonio d'Orso</i>, being Byshoppe of <i>Florence</i>, a vertuous, wise, -and reverend Prelate; it fortuned that a Gentleman of <i>Catalogna</i>, named -<i>Messer Diego de la Ratta</i>, and Lord Marshall to King <i>Robert</i> of <i>Naples</i>, -came thither to visite him. Hee being a man of very comely personage, -and a great observer of the choysest beauties in Court: among -all the other <i>Florentine</i> Dames, one proved to bee most pleasing in his -eye, who was a verie faire Woman indeede, and Neece to the Brother -of the saide <i>Messer Antonio</i>.</p> - -<p>The Husband of this Gentlewoman (albeit descended of a worthie -Family) was, neverthelesse, immeasurably covetous, and a verie vile -harsh natured man. Which the Lord Marshall understanding, made -such a madde composition with him, as to give him five hundred Ducates -of Gold, on condition, that hee would let him lye one night with -his wife, not thinking him so base minded as to give consent. Which in -a greedy avaritious humour he did, and the bargaine being absolutely agreed -on; the Lord Marshall prepared to fit him with a payment, such -as it should be. He caused so many peeces of silver to be cunningly guilded, -as then went for currant mony in <i>Florence</i>, and called <i>Popolines</i>, & -after he had lyen with the Lady (contrary to her will and knowledge, -her husband had so closely carried the businesse) the money was duely -paid to the cornuted Coxcombe. Afterwards, this impudent shame -chanced to be generally knowne, nothing remaining to the wilful Wittoll, -but losse of his expected gaine, and scorne in every place where he -went. The Bishop likewise (beeing a discreete and sober man) would -seeme to take no knowledge thereof; but bare out all scoffes with a well -setled countenance.</p> - -<p>Within a short while after, the Bishop and the Lord Marshal (alwaies -conversing together) it came to passe, that upon Saint <i>Johns</i> day, they -riding thorow the City, side by side, and viewing the brave beauties, -which of them might best deserve to win the prize; the Byshop espied a -young married Lady (which our late greevous pestilence bereaved us of) -she being named Madame <i>Nonna de Pulci</i>, and Cousine to <i>Messer Alexio -Rinucci</i>, a Gentleman well knowne unto us all. A very goodly beautifull -young woman she was, of delicate language, and singular spirite, -dwelling close by S. <i>Peters</i> gate. This Lady did the Bishop shew to the -Marshall, and when they were come to her, laying his hand uppon her -shoulder, he said. Madam <i>Nonna</i>, What thinke you of this Gallant? -Dare you adventure another wager with him?</p> - -<p>Such was the apprehension of this witty Lady, that these words seemed -to taxe her honour, or else to contaminate the hearers understanding, -whereof there were great plenty about her, whose judgement -might be as vile, as the speeches were scandalous. Wherefore, never -seeking for any further purgation of her cleare conscience, but onely to -retort taunt for taunt, presently thus she replied. My Lord, if I should -make such a vile adventure, I would looke to bee payde with better -money.</p> - -<p>These words being heard both by the Bishop and Marshall, they felt -themselves touched to the quicke, the one, as the Factor or Broker, for -so dishonest a businesse, to the Brother of the Bishop; and the other, as -receiving (in his owne person) the shame belonging to his Brother. So, -not so much as looking each on other, or speaking one word together -all the rest of that day, they rode away with blushing cheekes. Whereby -we may collect, that the young Lady, being so injuriously provoked, -did no more then well became her, to bite their basenesse neerely, that -so abused her openly.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Chichibio_the_Cooke_to_Messer_Currado_Gianfiliazzi_by_a_sodaine_pleasant" id="Chichibio_the_Cooke_to_Messer_Currado_Gianfiliazzi_by_a_sodaine_pleasant">Chichibio, <i>the Cooke to</i> Messer Currado Gianfiliazzi, <i>by a sodaine pleasant -answer which he made to his Master; converted his anger into laughter, -and thereby escaped the punishment, that</i> Messer <i>meant to impose on -him.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Fourth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Whereby plainly appeareth, that a sodaine witty and merry answer, doth oftentimes -appease the furious choller of an angry man.</i></h4> - - -<p>Madam <i>Lauretta</i> sitting silent, and the answer of Lady <i>Nonna</i> -having past with generall applause: the Queene commanded -Madame <i>Neiphila</i> to follow next in order; who instantly -thus began. Although a ready wit (faire Ladies) -doth many times affoord worthy and commendable speeches, -according to the accidents happening to the speaker: yet notwithstanding, -Fortune (being a ready helper divers wayes to the timorous) -doth often tippe the tongue with such a present reply, as the partie to -speake, had not so much leysure as to thinke on, nor yet to invent; as I -purpose to let you perceive, by a pretty short Novell.</p> - -<p><i>Messer Currado Gianfiliazzi</i> (as most of you have both seene and knowen) -living alwayes in our Citie, in the estate of a Noble Citizen, beeing -a man bountifull, magnificent, and within the degree of Knighthoode: -continually kept both Hawkes and Hounds, taking no meane -delight in such pleasures as they yeelded, neglecting (for them) farre -more serious imployments, wherewith our present subject presumeth -not to meddle. Upon a day, having kilde with his Faulcon a Crane, -neere to a Village called <i>Peretola</i>, and finding her to be both young and -fat, he sent it to his Cooke, a <i>Venetian</i> borne, and named <i>Chichibio</i>, with -command to have it prepared for his supper. <i>Chichibio</i>, who resembled -no other, then (as he was indeede) a plaine, simple, honest merry fellow, -having drest the Crane as it ought to bee, put it on the spit, and laide it -to the fire.</p> - -<p>When it was well neere fully roasted, and gave forth a very delicate -pleasing savour; it fortuned that a young Woman dwelling not far off, -named <i>Brunetta</i>, and of whom <i>Chichibio</i> was somewhat enamored, entred -into the Kitchin, and feeling the excellent smell of the Crane, to -please her beyond all savours, that ever she had felt before: she entreated -<i>Chichibio</i> verie earnestly, that hee would bestow a legge thereof on -her. Whereto <i>Chichibio</i> (like a pleasant companion, and evermore delighting -in singing) sung her this answer.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>My</i> Brunetta, <i>faire and feat a,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i8"><i>Why should you say so?</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>The meate of my Master,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Allowes you for no Taster,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i8"><i>Go from the Kitchin go.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>Many other speeches past betweene them in a short while, but in the -end, <i>Chichibio</i>, because hee would not have his Mistresse <i>Brunetta</i> angrie -with him; cut away one of the Cranes legges from the spit, and gave it -to her to eate. Afterward, when the Fowle was served up to the Table -before <i>Messer Currado</i>, who had invited certain strangers his friends -to sup with him, wondering not a little, he called for <i>Chichibio</i> his Cook; -demanding what was become of the Cranes other legge? Whereto -the <i>Venetian</i> (being a lyar by Nature) sodainely answered: Sir, Cranes -have no more but one legge each Bird. <i>Messer Currado</i>, growing verie -angry, replyed. Wilt thou tell me, that a Crane hath no more but one -legge? Did I never see a Crane before this? <i>Chichibio</i> persisting resolutely -in his deniall, saide. Beleeve me Sir, I have told you nothing but -the truth, and when you please, I wil make good my wordes, by such -Fowles as are living.</p> - -<p>Messer <i>Currado</i>, in kinde love to the strangers that hee had invited to -supper, gave over any further contestation; onely he said. Seeing thou -assurest me, to let me see thy affirmation for truth, by other of the same -Fowles living (a thing which as yet I never saw, or heard of) I am content -to make proofe thereof to morrow morning, till then I shall rest satisfied: -but, upon my word, if I finde it otherwise, expect such a sound -payment, as thy knavery justly deserveth, to make thee remember it all -thy life time. The contention ceassing for the night season, Messer <i>Currado</i>, -who though he had slept well, remained still discontented in his -minde: arose in the morning by breake of day, and puffing & blowing -angerly, called for his horses, commanding <i>Chichibio</i> to mount on one -of them; so riding on towards the River, where (earely every morning) -he had seene plenty of Cranes, he sayde to his man; We shall see anon -Sirra, whether thou or I lyed yesternight.</p> - -<p><i>Chichibio</i> perceiving, that his Masters anger was not (as yet) asswaged, -and now it stood him upon, to make good his lye; not knowing how he -should do it, rode after his Master, fearfully trembling all the way. Gladly -he would have made an escape, but hee could not by any possible -meanes, and on every side he looked about him, now before, and after -behinde, to espy any Cranes standing on both their legges, which would -have bin an ominous sight to him. But being come neere to the River, -he chanced to see (before any of the rest) upon the banke thereof, about -a dozen Cranes in number, each of them standing but upon one legge, -as they use to do when they are sleeping. Whereupon, shewing them -quickly to Messer <i>Currado</i>, he said. Now Sir your selfe may see, whether -I told you true yesternight, or no: I am sure a Crane hath but one -thigh, and one leg, as all here present are apparant witnesses, and I have -bin as good as my promise.</p> - -<p>Messer <i>Currado</i> looking on the Cranes, and well understanding the -knavery of his man, replyed: Stay but a little while sirra, & I will shew -thee, that a Crane hath two thighes, and two legges. Then riding somwhat -neerer to them, he cryed out aloud, Shough, shough, which caused -them to set downe their other legs, and all fled away, after they had -made a few paces against the winde for their mounting. So going unto -<i>Chichibio</i>, he said: How now you lying Knave, hath a Crane two legs, -or no? <i>Chichibio</i> being well-neere at his wits end, not knowing now -what answer hee should make; but even as it came sodainly into his -minde, said: Sir, I perceive you are in the right, and if you would have -done as much yesternight, and had cryed Shough, as here you did: questionlesse, -the Crane would then have set down the other legge, as these -heere did: but if (as they) she had fled away too, by that meanes you -might have lost your Supper.</p> - -<p>This sodaine and unexpected witty answere, comming from such a -logger-headed Lout, and so seasonably for his owne safety: was so pleasing -to <i>Messer Currado</i>, that he fell into a hearty laughter, and forgetting -all anger, saide. <i>Chichibio</i>, thou hast quit thy selfe well, and to my -contentment: albeit I advise thee, to teach mee no more such trickes -heereafter. Thus <i>Chichibio</i>, by his sodaine and merry answer, escaped -a sound beating, which (otherwise) his master had inflicted on him.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Messer_Forese_da_Rabatte_and_Maister_Giotto_a_Painter_by_his_profession" id="Messer_Forese_da_Rabatte_and_Maister_Giotto_a_Painter_by_his_profession">Messer Forese da Rabatte, <i>and Maister</i> Giotto, <i>a Painter by his profession, -comming together from</i> Mugello, <i>scornfully reprehended one another -for their deformity of body.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Fift Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Whereby may bee observed, that such as will speake contemptibly of others, -ought (first of all) to looke respectively on their owne imperfections.</i></h4> - - -<p>So soone as Madame <i>Neiphila</i> -sate silent (the Ladies -having greatly commended -the pleasant answer of <i>Chichibio</i>) -<i>Pamphilus</i>, by command -from the Queene, spake in this -manner. Woorthy Ladies, it -commeth to passe oftentimes, -that like as Fortune is observed -divers wayes, to hide under vile -and contemptible Arts, the most -great and unvalewable treasures -of vertue (as, not long since, was -well discoursed unto us by Madam -<i>Pampinea</i>:) so in like manner -hath appeared; that Nature -hath infused very singular spirits -into most misshapen and deformed bodies of men. As hath beene noted -in two of our owne Citizens, of whom I purpose to speake in fewe -words. The one of them was named <i>Messer Forese de Rabatte</i>, a man -of little and low person, but yet deformed in body, with a flat face, like -a Terrier or Beagle, as if no comparison (almost) could bee made more -ugly. But notwithstanding all this deformity, he was so singularly experienced -in the Lawes, that all men held him beyond any equall, or rather -reputed him as a Treasury of civill knowledge.</p> - -<p>The other man, being named <i>Giotto</i>, had a spirit of so great excellency, -as there was not any particular thing in Nature, the Mother and -Worke-mistresse of all, by continuall motion of the heavens; but hee -by his pen and pensell could perfectly portrait; shaping them all so truly -alike and resemblable, that they were taken for the reall matters indeede; -and, whether they were present or no, there was hardly any possibility -of their distinguishing. So that many times it happened, that by -the variable devises he made, the visible sence of men became deceived, -in crediting those things to be naturall, which were but meerly painted. -By which meanes, hee reduced that singular Art to light, which long -time before had lyen buried, under the grosse error of some; who, in the -mysterie of painting, delighted more to content the ignorant, then to -please the judicious understanding of the wise, he justly deserving thereby, -to be tearmed one of the <i>Florentines</i> most glorious lights. And so -much the rather, because he performed all his actions, in the true and -lowly spirit of humility: for while he lived, and was a Master in his Art, -above all other Painters: yet he refused any such title, which shined the -more majestically in him, as appeared by such, who knew much lesse -then he, or his Schollers either: yet his knowledge was extreamly coveted -among them.</p> - -<p>Now, notwithstanding all this admirable excellency in him: he was -not (thereby) a jot the handsommer man (either in person or countenance) -then was our fore-named Lawyer <i>Messer Forese</i>, and therefore -my Novell concerneth them both. Understand then, (faire Assemblie) -that the possessions and inheritances of <i>Messer Forese</i> and <i>Giotto</i>, lay in -<i>Mugello</i>; wherefore, when Holy-dayes were celebrated by Order of -Court, and in the Sommer time, upon the admittance of so apt a vacation; -<i>Forese</i> rode thither upon a very unsightly Jade, such as a man can -can seldome meet with worse. The like did <i>Giotto</i> the Painter, as ill fitted -every way as the other; and having dispatched their busines there, -they both returned backe towards <i>Florence</i>, neither of them being able -to boast, which was the best mounted.</p> - -<p>Riding on a faire and softly pace, because their Horses could goe no -faster: and they being well entred into yeeres, it fortuned (as oftentimes -the like befalleth in Sommer) that a sodaine showre of raine over-tooke -them; for avoyding whereof, they made all possible haste to a poore -Countrey-mans Cottage, familiarly knowne to them both. Having -continued there an indifferent while, and the raine unlikely to cease: to -prevent all further protraction of time, and to arrive at <i>Florence</i> in due -season: they borrowed two old cloakes of the poore man, of over-worn -and ragged Country gray, as also two hoodes of the like Complexion, -(because the poore man had no better) which did more mishape them, -then their owne ugly deformity, and made them notoriously flouted -and scorned, by all that met or overtooke them.</p> - -<p>After they had ridden some distance of ground, much moyled and -bemyred with their shuffling Jades, flinging the dirt every way about -them, that well they might be termed two filthy companions: the raine -gave over, and the evening looking somwhat cleare, they began to confer -familiarly together. <i>Messer Forese</i>, riding a lofty <i>French</i> trot, everie -step being ready to hoise him out of his saddle, hearing <i>Giottos</i> discreete -answers to every ydle question he made (for indeede he was a very elegant -speaker) began to peruse and surveigh him, even from the foote to -the head, as we use to say. And perceiving him to be so greatly deformed, -as no man could be worse, in his opinion: without any consideration -of his owne misshaping as bad, or rather more unsightly then hee; -in a scoffing laughing humour, hee saide. <i>Giotto</i>, doest thou imagine, -that a stranger, who had never seene thee before, and should now happen -into our companie, would beleeve thee to bee the best Painter in -the world, as indeede thou art? Presently <i>Giotto</i> (without any further -meditation) returned him this answere. Signior <i>Forese</i>, I think he might -then beleeve it, when (beholding you) hee could imagine that you had -learned your A. B. C. Which when <i>Forese</i> heard, he knew his owne error, -and saw his payment returned in such Coine, as he sold his Wares -for.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="A_young_and_ingenious_Scholler_being_unkindly_reviled_and_smitten_by_his_ignorant" id="A_young_and_ingenious_Scholler_being_unkindly_reviled_and_smitten_by_his_ignorant"><i>A young and ingenious Scholler, being unkindly reviled and smitten by his ignorant -Father, and through the procurement of an unlearned Vicare: afterward -attained to be doubly revenged on him.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Sixth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Serving as an advertisement to unlearned Parents, not to bee over-rash, in -censuring on Schollers perfections, through any badde or unbeseeming perswasions.</i></h4> - - -<p>The Ladies smiled very heartily, at the ready answer of <i>Giotto</i>; -untill the Queene charged Madam <i>Fiammetta</i>, that shee should -next succeed in order: whereupon, thus she began. The verie -greatest infelicity that can happen to a man, and most insupportable of -all other, is Ignorance; a word (I say) which hath bin so generall, as under -it is comprehended all imperfections whatsoever. Yet notwithstanding, -whosoever can cull (graine by graine) the defects incident to humane -race; will and must confesse, that wee are not all borne to knowledge: -but onely such, whom the heavens illuminating by their bright radiance -(wherein consisteth the sourse and well-spring of all science) by little & -little, do bestow the influence of their bounty, on such and so manie as -they please, who are to expresse themselves the more thankfull for such -a blessing. And although this grace doth lessen the misfortune of many, -which were over-mighty to bee in all; yet some there are, who by -sawcie presuming on themselves, doe bewray their ignorance by theyr -owne speeches; setting such behaviour on each matter, and soothing every -thing with such gravity, even as if they would make comparison: -or (to speake more properly) durst encounter in the Listes with great -<i>Salomon</i> or <i>Socrates</i>. But let us leave them, and come to the matter of -our purposed Novell.</p> - -<p>In a certaine Village of <i>Piccardie</i>, there lived a Priest or Vicar, who -beeing meerely an ignorant blocke, had yet such a peremptorie presuming -spirite: as, though it was sufficiently discerned, yet hee beguiled -many thereby, untill at last he deceyved himselfe, and with due chastisement -to his folly.</p> - -<p>A plaine Husbandman dwelling in the same Village, possessed of -much Land and Living, but verie grosse and dull in understanding; by -the entreaty of divers his Friends and Well-willers, some-thing more -intelligable then himselfe: became incited, or rather provoked, to send a -Sonne of his to the University of <i>Paris</i>, to study there as was fitting for a -Scholler. To the end (quoth they) that having but this Son onely, and -Fortunes blessings abounding in store for him: hee might like wise have -the riches of the minde, which are those true treasures indeede, that <i>Aristippus</i> -giveth us advice to be furnished withall.</p> - -<p>His Friends perswasions having prevailed, and hee continued at <i>Paris</i> -for the space of three yeares: what with the documents he had attayned -to, before his going thither, and by meanes of a happie memory in the -time of his being there, wherewith no young man was more singularly -endued (in so short a while) he attained and performed the greater part -of his Studies.</p> - -<p>Now, as oftentimes it commeth to passe, the love of a Father (surmounting -all other affections in man) made the olde Farmer desirous to -see his Sonne: which caused his sending for him with all convenient -speede, and obedience urged his as forward willingnesse thereto. The -good olde man, not a little joyfull to see him in so good condition and -health, and encreased so much in stature since his parting thence: familiarly -told him, that he earnestly desired to know, if his minde and body -had attained to a competent and equall growth, which within three or -foure dayes he would put in practise.</p> - -<p>No other helpe had he silly simple man, but Master Vicar must bee -the questioner and poser of his son: wherein the Priest was very unwilling -to meddle, for feare of discovering his owne ignorance, which passed -under better opinion then he deserved. But the Farmer beeing importunate, -and the Vicar many wayes beholding to him, durst not returne -deniall, but undertooke it very formally, as if he had bene an able -man indeede.</p> - -<p>But see how Fooles are borne to be fortunate, and where they least -hope, there they find the best successe; the simplicitie of the Father, must -be the meanes for abusing his Schollerly Son, and a skreene to stand betweene -the Priest and his ignorance. Earnest is the olde man to know, -what and how farre his Sonne had profited at Schoole, and by what -note he might best take understanding of his answeres: which jumping -fit with the Vicars vanity, and a warrantable cloake to cover his knavery; -he appoints him but one word onely, namely <i>Nescio</i>, wherewith -if he answered to any of his demands, it was an evident token, that hee -understood nothing. As thus they were walking and conferring in the -Church, the Farmer very carefull to remember the word <i>Nescio</i>: it came -to passe upon a sodaine, that the young man entred into them, to the -great contentment of his Father, who prayed Master Vicar, to make approbation -of his Sonne, whether he were learned, or no, and how hee -had benefited at the University?</p> - -<p>After the time of the daies salutations had past betweene them, the -Vicar being subtle and crafty, as they walked along by one of the tombs -in the Church; pointing with his finger to the Tombe, the Priest uttered -these words to the Scholler.</p> - -<blockquote> - -<p><i>Quis hic est sepultus?</i></p></blockquote> - -<p>The young Scholler (by reason it was erected since his departure, and -finding no inscription whereby to informe him) answered, as well hee -might, <i>Nescio</i>. Immediately the Father, keeping the word perfectly -in his memorie, grewe verie angerly passionate; and, desiring to -heare no more demaunds: gave him three or foure boxes on the eares; -with many harsh and injurious speeches, tearming him an Asse and Villaine, -and that he had not learned any thing. His Sonne was pacient, -and returned no answer, but plainly perceived, that this was a tricke intended -against him, by the malicious treachery of the Priest, on whom -(in time) he might be revenged.</p> - -<p>Within a short while after, the Suffragane of those parts (under whom -the Priest was but a Deputy, holding the benefice of him, with no great -charge to his conscience) being abroad in his visitation, sent word to the -Vicar, that he intended to preach there on the next Sunday, and hee to -prepare in a readinesse, <i>Bonum & Commodum</i>, because hee would have -nothing else to his dinner. Heereat Master Vicar was greatly amazed, -because he had never heard such words before, neither could hee finde -them in all his <i>Breviarie</i>. Hereupon, he went to the young scholler, whom -he had so lately before abused, and crying him mercy, with many impudent -and shallow excuses, desired him to reveale the meaning of those -words, and what he should understand by <i>Bonum & Commodum</i>.</p> - -<p>The Scholler (with a sober and modest countenance) made answere; -That he had bin over-much abused, which (neverthelesse) he tooke not -so impaciently, but hee had already both forgot and forgiven it, with -promise of comfort in this his extraordinary distraction, and greefe of -minde. When he had perused the Suffraganes Letter, well observing -the blushlesse ignorance of the Priest: seeming (by outward appearance) -to take it strangely, he cryed out alowd, saying; In the name of Vertue, -what may be this mans meaning? How? (quoth the Priest) What manner -of demand do you make? Alas, replyed the Scholler, you have but -one poore Asse, which I know you love deerely, and yet you must stew -his genitories very daintily, for your Patron will have no other meat to -his dinner. The genitories of mine Asse, answered the Priest? Passion -of me, who then shall carrie my Corne to the Mill? There is no remedie, -sayde the Scholler, for he hath so set it downe for an absolute resolution.</p> - -<p>After that the Priest had considered thereon a while by himselfe, remembring -the yearely revennewes, which clearely hee put up into his -purse, to be ten times of farre greater worth then his Asse: he concluded -to have him gelded, what danger soever should ensue thereon, preparing -them in readinesse against his comming. So soone as the Suffragan -was there arrived, heavily hee complained to him for his Asse: which -kinde of Language he not understanding, knew not what he meant, nor -how he should answer. But beeing (by the Scholler) acquainted with -the whole History, he laughed heartily at the Priests ignorant folly, wishing -that all such bold Bayards (from time to time) might be so served. -Likewise, that all ignorant Priests, Vicars, and other Grashoppers of -Townes or Villages, who sometimes have onely seene <i>Partes orationis -quod sunt</i>, not to stand over-much on their owne sufficiency, grounded -soly upon their Grammar; but to beware whom they jest withall, without -meddling with Schollers, who take not injuries as dullards doe, least -they prove infamous by their disputations.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Madam_Phillippa_being_accused_by_her_Husband_Rinaldo_de_Pugliese" id="Madam_Phillippa_being_accused_by_her_Husband_Rinaldo_de_Pugliese">Madam Phillippa, <i>being accused by her Husband</i> Rinaldo de Pugliese, -<i>because he tooke her in Adulterie, with a young Gentleman named</i> Lazarino -de Guazzagliotori: <i>caused her to bee cited before the Judge. From -whom she delivered her selfe, by a sodaine, witty and pleasant answer, and -moderated a severe strict Statute, formerly made against women.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Seventh Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is declared, of what worth it is to confesse a trueth, with a facetious -and witty excuse.</i></h4> - - -<p>After that Madame <i>Fiammetta</i> had given over speaking, and all -the Auditory had sufficiently applauded the Schollers honest -revenge, the Queene enjoyned <i>Philostratus</i>, to proceede on -next with his Novell, which caused him to begin thus. Beleeve -me Ladies, it is an excellent & most commendable thing, to speak -well, and to all purposes: but I hold it a matter of much greater worth, -to know how to do it, and when necessity doth most require it. Which -a Gentlewoman (of whom I am now to speake) was so well enstructed -in, as not onely it yeelded the hearers mirthfull contentment, but likewise -delivered her from the danger of death, as (in few words) you shall -heare related.</p> - -<p>In the Citie of <i>Prato</i>, there was an Edict or Statute, no lesse blameworthy -(to speake uprightly) then most severe and cruell, which (without -making any distinction) gave strict command; That everie Woman -should be burned with fire, whose husband found her in the acte of Adultery, -with any secret or familiar friend, as one deserving to bee thus -abandoned, like such as prostituted their bodies to publike sale or hire. -During the continuance of this sharpe Edict, it fortuned that a Gentlewoman, -who was named <i>Phillippa</i>, was found in her Chamber one -night, in the armes of a young Gentleman of the same City, named <i>Lazarino -de Guazzagliotori</i>, and by her owne husband, called <i>Rinaldo de -Pugliese</i>, shee loving the young Gallant, as her owne life, because hee -was most compleate in all perfections, and every way as deerely addicted -to her.</p> - -<p>This sight was so irkesome to <i>Rinaldo</i>, that, being overcom with extreame -rage, hee could hardly containe from running on them, with a -violent intent to kill them both: but feare of his owne life caused his -forbearance, meaning to be revenged by some better way. Such was -the heate of his spleene and fury, as, setting aside all respect of his owne -shame: he would needs prosecute the rigour of the deadly Edict, which -he held lawfull for him to do, although it extended to the death of his -Wife. Heereupon, having witnesses sufficient, to approve the guiltinesse -of her offence: a day being appointed (without desiring any other -counsell) he went in person to accuse her, and required justice against -her.</p> - -<p>The Gentlewoman, who was of an high and undauntable spirite, as -all such are, who have fixed their affection resolvedly, and love uppon a -grounded deliberation: concluded, quite against the counsell and opinion -of her Parents, Kindred, and Friends; to appeare in the Court, as -desiring rather to dye, by confessing the trueth with a manly courage, -then by denying it, and her love unto so worthy a person as he was, in -whole arms she chanced to be taken; to live basely in exile with shame, -as an eternall scandall to her race. So, before the Potestate, shee made -her apparance, worthily accompanied both with men and women, all -advising her to deny the acte: but she, not minding them or their perswasions, -looking on the Judge with a constant countenance, and a -voyce of setled resolve, craved to know of him, what hee demaunded -of her?</p> - -<p>The Potestate well noting her brave carriage, her singular beautie -and praise-worthy parts, her words apparantly witnessing the heighth -of her minde: beganne to take compassion on her, and doubted, least -shee would confesse some such matter, as should enforce him to pronounce -the sentence of death against her. But she boldly scorning all -delayes, or any further protraction of time; demanded again, what was -her accusation? Madame, answered the Potestate, I am sory to tel you, -what needs I must, your husband (whom you see present heere) is the -complainant against you, avouching, that he tooke you in the act of adultery -with another man: and therefore he requireth, that, according to -the rigour of the Statute heere in force with us, I should pronounce -sentence against you, and (consequently) the infliction of death. Which -I cannot do, if you confesse not the fact, and therefore be well advised, -how you answer me, and tell me the truth, if it be as your Husband accuseth -you, or no.</p> - -<p>The Lady, without any dismay or dread at all, pleasantly thus replied. -My Lord, true it is, that <i>Rinaldo</i> is my Husband, and that he found -me, on the night named, betweene the Armes of <i>Lazarino</i>, where many -times heeretofore he hath embraced mee, according to the mutuall -love re-plighted together, which I deny not, nor ever will. But you -know well enough, and I am certaine of it, that the Lawes enacted in any -Countrey, ought to be common, and made with consent of them -whom they concerne, which in this Edict of yours is quite contrarie. -For it is rigorous against none, but poore women onely, who are able -to yeeld much better content and satisfaction generally, then remaineth -in the power of men to do. And moreover, when this Law was made, -there was not any woman that gave consent to it, neither were they called -to like or allow thereof: in which respect, it may deservedly be termed, -an unjust Law. And if you will, in prejudice of my bodie, and of -your owne soule, be the executioner of so unlawfull an Edict, it consisteth -in your power to do as you please.</p> - -<p>But before you proceede to pronounce any sentence, may it please -you to favour me with one small request, namely, that you would demand -of my Husband, if at all times, and whensoever he tooke delight -in my company, I ever made any curiosity, or came to him unwillingly. -Whereto <i>Rinaldo</i>, without tarrying for the Potestate to moove the -question, sodainly answered; that (undoubtedly) his wife at all times, -and oftner then he could request it, was never sparing of her kindnesse, -or put him off with any deniall. Then the Lady, continuing on her -former speeches, thus replyed. Let me then demand of you my Lord, -being our Potestate and Judge, if it be so, by my Husbands owne free -confession, that he hath alwaies had his pleasure of me, without the least -refusall in me, or contradiction; what should I doe with the over-plus -remaining in mine owne power, and whereof he had no need? Would -you have mee cast it away to the Dogges? Was it not more fitting for -me, to pleasure therewith a worthy Gentleman, who was even at deaths -doore for my love, then (my husbands surfetting, and having no neede -of me) to let him lye languishing, and dye?</p> - -<p>Never was heard such an examination before, and to come from a -woman of such worth, the most part of the honourable <i>Pratosians</i> (both -Lords and Ladies) being there present, who hearing her urge such a necessary -question, cryed out all aloud together with one voice (after they -had laughed their fill) that the Lady had saide well, and no more then -she might. So that, before they departed thence, by comfortable advice -proceeding from the Potestate: the Edict (being reputed overcruell) -was modified, and interpreted to concerne them onely, who offered -injurie to their Husbands for money. By which meanes, <i>Rinaldo</i> -standing as one confounded, for such a foolish and unadvised enterprize, -departed from the Auditorie: and the Ladie, not a little joyfull to bee -thus freed and delivered from the fire, returned home with victorie to -her owne house.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Fresco_da_Celatico_counselled_and_advised_his_Neece_Cesca_That_if_such" id="Fresco_da_Celatico_counselled_and_advised_his_Neece_Cesca_That_if_such">Fresco da Celatico, <i>counselled and advised his Neece</i> Cesca: <i>That if such -as deserved to be looked on, were offensive to her eyes, as she had often told -him; she should forbeare to looke on any.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Eighth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>In just scorne of such unsightly and ill-pleasing surly Sluts, who imagine none -to be faire or well-favoured, but themselves.</i></h4> - - -<p>All the while as <i>Philostratus</i> was re-counting his Novell; -it seemed, that the Ladies (who heard it) found themselves -much mooved thereat, as by the wanton blood monting -up into their cheekes, it plainly appeared. But in the end, -looking on each other with strange behaviour, they could -not forbeare smiling: which the Queene interrupting by a command of -attention, turning to Madame <i>Æmillia</i>, willed her to follow next. When -she, puffing and blowing, as if she had bene newly awaked from sleepe, -began in this manner.</p> - -<p>Faire Beauties; My thoughts having wandred a great distance hence, -and further then I can easily collect them together againe; in obedience -yet to our Queene, I shall report a much shorter Novell, then otherwise -(perhappes) I should have done, if my minde had beene a little neerer -home. I shall tell you the grosse fault of a foolish Damosell, well corrected -by a witty reprehension of her Uncle; if shee had bin endued but -with so much sence, as to have understood it.</p> - -<p>An honest man, named <i>Fresco da Celatico</i>, had a good fulsome wench to -his Neece, who for her folly and squemishnes, was generally called <i>Cesca</i>, -or nice <i>Francesca</i>. And although she had stature sufficient, yet none of -the handsomest, & a good hard favourd countenance, nothing nere such -Angelical beauties as we have seen: yet she was endued with such height -of minde, and so proud an opinion of her selfe, that it appeared as a custome -bred in hir, or rather a gift bestowed on hir by nature (though none -of the best) to blame and despise both men and women, yea whosoever -she lookt on; without any consideration of her self, she being as unsightly, -ill shaped, and ugly faced, as a worse was very hardly to be found.</p> - -<p>Nothing could be done at any time, to yeilde her liking or content: -moreover, she was so waspish, nice, & squemish, that when she came into -the royall Court of <i>France</i>, it was hatefull & contemptible to hir. Whensoever -she went through the streets, every thing stunke and was noisome -to her; so that she never did any thing but stop her nose; as if all men or -women she met withall; and whatsoever else she lookt on, were stinking -and offensive. But let us leave all further relation of her ill conditions, -being every way (indeed) so bad, and hardly becomming any sensible -body, that we cannot condemne them so much as we should.</p> - -<p>It chanced upon a day, that shee comming home to the house where -her Uncle dwelt, declared her wonted scurvy and scornfull behaviour; -swelling, puffing, and pouting extreamly, in which humor she sat downe -by her Uncle, who desiring to know what had displeased her, said. Why -how now <i>Francesca</i>? what may the meaning of this bee? This being a solemne -festivall day, what is the reason of your so soone returning home? -She coily biting the lip, and brideling her head, as if she had bene some -mans best Gelding, sprucely thus replyed.</p> - -<p>Indeede you say true Uncle, I am come home verie earely, because, -since the day of my birth, I never saw a City so pestered with unhandsome -people, both men and women, and worse this high Holyday then -ever I did observe before. I walked thorow some store of streetes, and I -could not see one proper man: and as for the women, they are the most -misshapen and ugly creatures, that, if God had made me such an one, I -should be sory that ever I was borne. And being no longer able to endure -such unpleasing sights; you wil not thinke (Uncle) in what an anger -I am come home. <i>Fresco</i>, to whome these stinking qualities of his -Neece seemed so unsufferable, that hee could not (with patience) endure -them any longer, thus short and quickely answered. <i>Francesca</i>, if -all people of our Citie (both men and women) be so odious in thy eyes, -and offensive to thy nose, as thou hast often reported to me: bee advised -then by my counsell. Stay stil at home, and look upon none but thy selfe -onely, and then thou shalt be sure that they cannot displease thee. But -she, being as empty of wit as a pith-lesse Cane, and yet thought her -judgement to exceed <i>Salomons</i>, could not understand the lest part of hir -Uncles meaning, but stood as senselesse as a sheepe. Onely she replyed, -that she would resort to some other parts of the country, which if shee -found as weakly furnished of handsome people, as heere shee did, shee -would conceive better of her selfe, then ever she had done before.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Signior_Guido_Cavalcante_with_a_sodaine_and_witty_answer_reprehended" id="Signior_Guido_Cavalcante_with_a_sodaine_and_witty_answer_reprehended">Signior Guido Cavalcante, <i>with a sodaine and witty answer, reprehended -the rash folly of certaine Florentine Gentlemen, that thought to scorne and -flout him.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Ninth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Notably discovering the great difference that is betweene learning and ignorance, -upon judicious apprehension.</i></h4> - - -<p>When the Queene perceived, that Madame <i>Æmillia</i> was discharged -of her Novell, and none remained now to speake next, but -onely her selfe, his priviledge alwayes remembred, to whom it -belonged to be the last, she began in this manner.</p> - -<p>Faire Company, you have this day disappointed me of two Novells -at the least, whereof I had intended to make use. Neverthelesse, you -shall not imagine mee so unfurnished, but that I have left one in store; -the conclusion whereof, may minister such instruction, as will not bee -reputed for ydle and impertinent: but rather of such materiall consequence, -as better hath not this day past among us.</p> - -<p>Understand then (most faire Ladies) that in former times long since -past, our Cittie had many excellent and commendable customes in it; -whereof (in these unhappy dayes of ours) we cannot say that poore -one remaineth, such hath beene the too much encrease of Wealth and -Covetousnesse, the onely supplanters of all good qualities whatsoever. -Among which lawdable and friendly observations, there was one well -deserving note, namely, that in divers places of <i>Florence</i>, men of the best -houses in every quarter, had a sociable and neighbourly assemblie together, -creating their company to consist of a certaine number, such as -were able to supply their expences as this day one, and to morrow another: -and thus in a kinde of friendly course, each daily furnished the -Table, for the rest of the company. Oftentimes, they did honour to divers -Gentlemen and strangers, upon their arrivall in our City, by inviting -them into their assembly, and many of our worthiest Citizens beside; -so that it grew to a customary use, and one especially day in the -yeare appointed, in memory of this so loving a meeting, when they -would ride (triumphally as it were) on horsebacke thorow the Cittie, -sometimes performing Tilts, Tourneyes, and other Martiall exercises, -but they were reserved for Feastivall dayes.</p> - -<p>Among which company, there was one called, <i>Signior Betto Bruneleschi</i>, -who was earnestly desirous, to procure <i>Signior Guido Cavalcante -de Cavalcanti</i>, to make one in this their friendly society. And not without -great reason: for, over and beside his being one of the best Logitians -as those times could not yeeld a better: He was also a most absolute naturall -Philosopher (which worthy qualities were little esteemed among -these honest meeters) a very friendly Gentleman, singularly well spoken, -and whatsoever else was commendable in any man, was no way -wanting in him, being wealthy withall, and able to returne equall honours, -where he found them to be duly deserved, as no man therein could -go beyond him. But <i>Signior Betto</i>, notwithstanding his long continued -importunitie, could not draw him into their assembly, which made him -and the rest of his company conceive, that the solitude of <i>Guido</i>, retiring -himselfe alwaies from familiar conversing with men: provoked him to -many curious speculations: and because he retained some part of the -<i>Epicurean</i> Opinion, their vulgare judgement passed on him, that his -speculations tended to no other end, but onely to finde out that which -was never done.</p> - -<p>It chanced upon a day, that <i>Signior Guido</i> departing from the Church -of Saint <i>Michaell d'Horta</i>, and passing along by the <i>Adamari</i>, so farre as -to Saint <i>Johns</i> Church, which evermore was his customarie Walke: many -goodly Marble Tombes were then about the saide Church, as now -adayes are at Saint <i>Reparata</i>, and divers more beside. He entring among -the Collumbes of Porphiry, and the other Sepulchers being there, because -the doore of the Church was shut: <i>Signior Betto</i> & his companie, -came riding from S. <i>Reparata</i>, & espying <i>Signior Guido</i> among the graves -and tombes, said. Come, let us go make some jests to anger him. So putting -the spurs to their horses, they rode apace towards him: and being -upon him before he perceived them, one of them said. <i>Guido</i> thou refusest -to be one of our society, & seekest for that which never was: when -thou hast found it, tell us, what wilt thou do with it?</p> - -<p><i>Guido</i> seeing himselfe round engirt with them, sodainly thus replyed: -Gentlemen, you may use mee in your owne house as you please. -And setting his hand on one of the Tombes (which was some-what -great) he tooke his rising, and leapt quite over it on the further side, as -being of an agile and sprightly body, and being thus freed from them, -he went away to his owne lodging. They stoode all like men amazed, -strangely looking one upon another, and began afterward to murmure -among themselves: That <i>Guido</i> was a man without any understanding, -and the answer which he had made unto them, was to no purpose, neither -savoured of any discretion, but meerely came from an empty brain -because they had no more to do in the place where now they were, then -any of the other Citizens, and Signior <i>Guido</i> (himselfe) as little as any -of them; whereto Signior <i>Betto</i> thus replyed.</p> - -<p>Alas Gentlemen, it is you your selves that are void of understanding: -for, if you had but observed the answer which he made unto us: hee did -honestly, and (in verie few words) not onely notably expresse his owne -wisedome, but also deservedly reprehend us. Because, if wee observe -things as we ought to doe, Graves and Tombes are the houses of the -dead, ordained and prepared to be their latest dwellings. He tolde us -moreover, that although we have heere (in this life) other habitations -and abidings; yet these (or the like) must at last be our houses. To let -us know, and all other foolish, indiscreete, and unlearned men, that we -are worse then dead men, in comparison of him, and other men equall -to him in skill and learning. And therefore, while wee are heere among -these Graves and Monuments, it may well be said, that we are not farre -from our owne houses, or how soone we shall be possessors of them, in -regard of the frailty attending on us.</p> - -<p>Then every one could presently say, that Signior <i>Guido</i> had spoken -nothing but the truth, and were much ashamed of their owne folly, and -shallow estimation which they had made of <i>Guido</i>, desiring never more -after to meddle with him so grossely, and thanking Signior <i>Betto</i>, for so -well reforming their ignorance, by his much better apprehension.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Fryer_Onyon_promised_certaine_honest_people_of_the_Countrey_to_shew_them" id="Fryer_Onyon_promised_certaine_honest_people_of_the_Countrey_to_shew_them"><i>Fryer</i> Onyon, <i>promised certaine honest people of the Countrey, to shew them -a Feather of the same Phoenix, that was with</i> Noah <i>in his Arke. In sted -whereof, he found Coales, which he avouched to be those very coals, wherewith -the same Phoenix was roasted.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Tenth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein may be observed, what palpable abuses do many times passe, under -the counterfeit Cloake of Religion.</i></h4> - - -<p>When all of them had delivered their Novels, <i>Dioneus</i> knowing -that it remained in him to relate the last for this -day: without attending for any solemne command (after -he had imposed silence on them, that could not sufficiently -commend the witty reprehension of <i>Guido</i>) thus he -began. Wise and worthy Ladies, although by the priviledge you have -granted, it is lawfull for me to speake any thing best pleasing to my self: -yet notwithstanding, it is not any part of my meaning, to varrie from -the matter and method, whereof you have spoken to very good purpose. -And therefore, following your footsteppes, I entend to tell you, -how craftily, and with a Rampiar sodainly raised in his owne defence: -a Religious Frier of Saint <i>Anthonies</i> Order, shunned a shame, which -two wily companions had prepared for him. Nor let it offend you, if I -run into more large discourse, then this day hath bene used by any, for -the apter compleating of my Novell: because, if you well observe it, the -Sun is as yet in the middest of heaven, and therefore you may the better -forbeare me.</p> - -<p><i>Certoldo</i>, as (perhaps) you know, or have heard, is a Village in the -Vale of <i>Elsa</i>, and under the authority and commaund of our <i>Florence</i>, -which although it be but small: yet (in former times) it hath bin inhabited -with Gentlemen, and people of especiall respect. A religious Friar -of S. <i>Anthonies</i> Order, named Friar <i>Onyon</i>, had long time used to resort -thither, to receive the benevolent almes, which those charitably affected -people in simplicity gave him, & chiefly at divers daies of the year, when -their bounty and devotion would extend themselves more largely then -at other seasons. And so much the rather, because they thought him to -be a good Pastor of holy life in outward appearance, & carried a name -of much greater matter, then remained in the man indeed; beside, that -part of the country yeilded far more plentifull abundance of Onyons, -then all other in <i>Tuscany</i> elsewhere, a kinde of foode greatly affected by -those Friars, as men alwaies of hungry & good appetite. This Friar <i>Onyon</i> -was a man of little stature, red haire, a chearfull countenance, and -the world afforded not a more crafty companion, then he. Moreover, -albeit he had very little knowledge or learning, yet he was so prompt, -ready & voluble of speech, uttering often he knew not what himselfe: -that such as were not wel acquainted with his qualities, supposed him -to be a singular Rhetoritian, excelling <i>Cicero</i> or <i>Quintilian</i> themselves; -& he was a gossip, friend, or deerely affected, by every one dwelling in -those parts. According to his wonted custome, one time he went thither -in the month of August, and on a Sunday morning, when all the dwellers -thereabout, were present to heare Masse, and in the chiefest Church -above all the rest: when the Friar saw time convenient for his purpose, -he advanced himselfe, and began to speake in this manner.</p> - -<p>Gentlemen and Gentlewomen, you know you have kept a commendable -custom, in sending yeerly to the poore brethren of our Lord Baron -S. <i>Anthony</i>, both of your Corne and other provision, some more, -some lesse, all according to their power, means, and devotion, to the end -that blessed S. <i>Anthony</i> should be the more carefull of your oxen, sheep, -asses, swine, pigs, and other cattle. Moreover, you have used to pay (especially -such as have their names registred in our Fraternity) those duties -which annually you send unto us. For the collection whereof, I am sent -by my Superior, namely our L. Abbot, & therfore (with Gods blessing) -you may come after noone hither, when you shal heare the Bels of the -Church ring: then will I make a predication to you; you shall kisse the -Crosse, and beside, because I know you al to be most devout servants to -our Lord Baron S. <i>Anthony</i>, in especiall grace and favor, I wil shew you -a most holy and goodly Relique, which I my selfe (long since) brought -from the holy Land beyond the seas. If you desire to know what it is, -let me tell you, that it is one of the Feathers of the same <i>Phoenix</i>, which -was in the Arke with the Patriarch <i>Noah</i>. And having thus spoken, he -became silent, returning backe to heare Masse. While hee delivered -these and the like speeches, among the other people then in the church, -there were two shrewde and crafty Companions; the one, named -<i>John de Bragoniero</i>, and the other, <i>Biagio Pizzino</i>. These subtile Fellowes, -after they had heard the report of Fryer <i>Onyons</i> Relique: although -they were his intimate friends, and came thither in his company; yet -they concluded betweene themselves, to shew him a tricke of Legierdumaine, -and to steale the Feather from him. When they had intelligence -of Friar <i>Onyons</i> dining that day at the Castle, with a worthy Friend of -his: no sooner was he set at the Table, but away went they in all haste, -to the Inne where the Fryar frequented, with this determination, that -<i>Biagio</i> should hold conference with the Friars boy, while his fellow ransackt -the Wallet, to finde the Feather, and carry it away with him, for -a future observation, what the Friar would say unto the people, when -he found the losse of the Feather, and could not performe his promise -to them.</p> - -<p>The Fryars Boy, whom some called <i>Guccio Balena</i>, some <i>Guccio Imbrata</i>, -and others <i>Guccio Porco</i>, was such a knavish Lad, and had so many -bad qualities, as <i>Lippo Topo</i> the cunning Painter, or the most curious -Poeticall wit, had not any ability to describe them. Friar <i>Onyon</i> himself -did often observe his behaviour, and would make this report among his -Friends. My Boy (quoth he) hath nine rare qualities in him, and such -they are, as if <i>Salomon, Aristotle,</i> or <i>Seneca</i> had onely but one of them: it -were sufficient to torment and trouble all their vertue, all their senses, & -all their sanctity. Consider then, what manner of man he is like to be, -having nine such rarities, yet voide of all vertue, wit, or goodnes. And -when it was demaunded of Friar <i>Onyon</i>, what these nine rare conditions -were: hee having them all readie by heart, and in rime, thus answered:</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Boyes I have knowne, and seene,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i9"><i>And heard of many:</i><br /></span> -<span class="i20">But,<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>For Lying, Loytring, Lazinesse,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>For Facing, Filching, Filthinesse;</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>For Carelesse, Gracelesse, all Unthriftinesse,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i9"><i>My Boy excelleth any.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>Now, over and beside all these admirable qualities, hee hath manie -more such singularities, which (in favour towards him) I am faine to conceale. -But that which I smile most at in him, is that he would have a -Wife in every place where he commeth, yea, and a good house to boot -too: for, in regard his beard beginneth to shew it selfe, rising thicke in -haire, blacke and amiable, he is verily perswaded, that all Women will -fall in love with him; and if they refuse to follow him, he will in all hast -run after them. But truly, he is a notable servant to mee, for I cannot -speake with any one, and in never so great secrecy, but he will be sure to -heare his part; and when any question is demanded of me, he standes in -such awe and feare of my displeasure: that he will bee sure to make the -first answer, yea or no, according as he thinketh most convenient.</p> - -<p>Now, to proceede where we left, Friar <i>Onyon</i> having left this serviceable -youth at his lodging, to see that no bodie should meddle with his -commodities, especially his Wallet, because of the sacred things therein -contained: <i>Guccio Imbrata</i>, who as earnestly affected to be in the Kitchin, -as Birds to hop from branch to branch, especially, when anie of -the Chamber-maides were there, espyed one of the Hostesses Female -attendants, a grosse fat Trugge, low of stature, ill faced, and worse formed, -with a paire of brests like two bumbards, smelling loathsomely of -grease and sweate; downe shee descended into the Kitchin, like a Kite -upon a peece of Carion. This Boy, or Knave, chuse whither you will -style him, having carelesly left Fryar <i>Onyons</i> Chamber doore open, and -all the holy things so much to be neglected, although it was then the -moneth of August, when heate is in the highest predominance, yet hee -would needs sit downe by the fire, and began to conferre with this amiable -creature, who was called by the name of <i>Nuta</i>.</p> - -<p>Being set close by her, he told her, that he was a Gentleman by Atturniship, -and that he had more millions of Crownes, then all his life time -would serve him to spend; beside those which he payed away dayly, as -having no convenient imployment for them. Moreover, he knew how -to speake, and do such things, as were beyond wonder or admiration. -And, never remembring his olde tatterd Friars Cowle, which was so -snottie and greazie, that good store of kitchin stuffe might have beene -boiled out of it; as also a foule slovenly Trusse or halfedoublet, all baudied -with bowsing, fat greazie lubberly sweating, and other drudgeries -in the Convent Kitchin, where he was an Officer in the meanest credite. -So that to describe this sweet youth in his lively colours, both for naturall -perfections of body, and artificiall composure of his Garments; never -came the fowlest silks out of <i>Tartaria</i> or <i>India</i>, more ugly or unsightly -to bee lookt upon. And for a further addition to his neate knavery, -his breeches were so rent betweene his legges, his shooes and stockings -had bin at such a mercilesse massacre: that the gallantest <i>Commandador</i> -of <i>Castile</i> (though he had never so lately bin releast out of slavery) could -have wisht for better garments, then he; or make larger promises, then -he did to his <i>Nuta</i>. Protesting to entitle her as his onely, to free her -from the Inne and Chamber thraldomes, if she would live with him, be -his Love, partaker of his present possessions, and so to succeed in his future -Fortunes. All which bravadoes, though they were belcht foorth -with admirable insinuations: yet they converted into smoke, as all such -braggadochio behaviours do, and he was as wise at the ending, as when -he began.</p> - -<p>Our former named two craftie Companions, seeing <i>Guccio Porco</i> so -seriously employed about <i>Nuta</i>, was there-with not a little contented, -because their intended labour was now more then halfe ended. And -perceiving no contradiction to crosse their proceeding, into Friar <i>Onyons</i> -chamber entred they, finding it ready open for their purpose: where -the first thing that came into their hand in search, was the wallet. When -they had opened it, they found a small Cabinet, wrapped in a great many -foldings of rich Taffata; and having unfolded it, a fine formall Key -was hanging thereat: wherewith having unlockt the Cabinet, they found -a faire Feather of a Parrots taile, which they supposed to bee the verie -same, that he meant to shew the people of <i>Certaldo</i>. And truly (in those -dayes) it was no hard matter to make them beleeve anything, because -the idle vanities of <i>Ægypt</i> and those remoter parts, had not (as yet) bin -seene in <i>Tuscany</i>, as since then they have bin in great abundance, to the -utter ruine (almost) of <i>Italy</i>.</p> - -<p>And although they might then be knowne to very few, yet the inhabitants -of the Country generally, understoode little or nothing at all of -them. For there, the pure simplicitie of their ancient predecessours still -continuing; they had not seene any Parrots, or so much as heard any -speech of them. Wherefore the two crafty consorts, not a little joyfull -of finding the Feather, tooke it thence with them, and beecause they -would not leave the Cabinet empty, espying Char-coales lying in a corner -of the Chamber, they filled it with them, wrapping it up againe in -the Taffata, and in as demure manner as they found it. So, away came -they with the Feather, neither seene or suspected by any one, intending -now to heare what Friar <i>Onyon</i> would say, uppon the losse of his precious -Relique, and finding the Coales there placed insted thereof.</p> - -<p>The simple men and women of the country, who had bin at morning -Masse in the Church, and heard what a wonderful Feather they should -see in the after noone; returned in all hast to their houses, where one telling -this newes to another, and gossip with gossip consulting thereon; they -made the shorter dinner, and afterward flocked in maine troopes to the -Castle, contending who shold first get entrance, such was their devotion -to see the holy feather. Friar <i>Onyon</i> having dined, and reposed a little after -his wine, he arose from the table to the window, where beholding what -multitudes came to see the feather, he assured himselfe of good store of -mony. Hereupon, he sent to his Boy <i>Guccio Imbrata</i>, that uppon the Bels -ringing, he should come and bring the wallet to him. Which (with much -ado) he did, so soone as his quarrell was ended in the kitchin, with the amiable -Chamber-maid <i>Nuta</i>, away then he went with his holy commodities: -where he was no sooner arrived, but because his belly was readie -to burst with drinking water, he sent him to the Church to ring the bels, -which not onely would warme the cold water in his belly, but likewise -make him run as gaunt as a Grey-hound.</p> - -<p>When all the people were assembled in the Church together, Friar -<i>Onyon</i> (never distrusting any injurie offered him, or that his close commodities -had bin meddled withall) began his predication, uttering a thousand -lies to fit his purpose. And when he came to shew the feather of the -Phoenix (having first in great devotion finisht the confession) he caused -two goodly torches to be lighted, & ducking downe his head three severall -times, before hee would so much as touch the Taffata, he opened it -with much reverence. So soone as the Cabinet came to be seen, off went -his Hood, lowly he bowed downe his body, and uttering especiall praises -of the Phoenix, and sacred properties of the wonderfull Relique, the -Cover of the Cabinet being lifted uppe, he saw the same to bee full of -Coales. He could not suspect his Villaine boy to do this deede, for he -knew him not to be endued with so much wit, onely hee curst him for -keeping it no better, and curst himselfe also, for reposing trust in such a -careles knave, knowing him to be slothfull, disobedient, negligent, and -void of all honest understanding or grace. Sodainly (without blushing) -lest his losse should be discerned, he lifted his lookes and hands to heaven, -speaking out so loude, as every one might easily heare him, thus: -O thou omnipotent providence, for ever let thy power be praised. Then -making fast the Cabinet againe, and turning himselfe to the people, with -lookes expressing admiration, he proceeded in this manner.</p> - -<p>Lords, Ladies, and you the rest of my worthy Auditors: You are to -understand, that I (being then very young) was sent by my Superiour, -into those parts, where the Sun appeareth at his first rising. And I had -received charge by expresse command, that I should seeke for (so much -as consisted in my power to do) the especiall vertues and priviledges belonging -to Porcellane, which although the boyling thereof bee worth -but little, yet it is very profitable to any but us. In regard whereof, being -upon my journey, and departing from <i>Venice</i>, passing along the <i>Borgo -de Grecia</i>, I proceeded thence (on horseback) through the Realme of -<i>Garbo</i>, so to <i>Baldacca</i>, till I came to <i>Parione</i>; from whence, not without -great extremity of thirst, I arrived in <i>Sardignia</i>.</p> - -<p>But why do I trouble you with the repetition of so many countries? -I coasted on still, after I had past Saint <i>Georges Arme</i>, into <i>Trussia</i>, and -then into <i>Bussia</i>, which are Countries much inhabited, and with great -people. From thence I went into the <i>Land of Lying</i>, where I found store -of the Brethren of our Religion, and many other beside, who shunned -all paine and labour, onely for the love of God, and cared as little, for -the paines and travailes which others tooke, except some benefit arised -thereby to them; nor spend they any money in this Country, but such -as is without stampe. Thence I went into the Land of <i>Abruzzi</i>, where -the men and women goe in Galoches over the Mountaines, and make -them garments of their Swines guts. Not farre from thence, I found -people, that carried bread in their staves, and wine in Satchels, when -parting from them, I arrived among the Mountaines of <i>Bacchus</i>, where -all the waters run downe with a deepe fall, and in short time, I went on -so far, that I found my selfe to be in <i>India Pastinaca</i>; where I swear to you -by the holy habit which I weare on my body, that I saw Serpents flye, -things incredible, and such as were never seene before.</p> - -<p>But because I would be loth to lye, so soone as I departed thence, I -met with <i>Maso de Saggio</i>, who was a great Merchant there, and whom -I found cracking Nuts, and selling Cockles by retale. Neverthelesse, al -this while I could not finde what I sought for, and therefore I was to -passe from hence by water, if I intended to travaile thither, and so in returning -back, I came into the <i>Holy Land</i>, where coole fresh bread is sold -for fourepence, and the hot is given away for nothing. There I found -the venerable Father (blame me not I beseech you) the most woorthie -Patriarch of <i>Jerusalem</i>, who for the reverence due to the habite I weare, -and love to our Lord Baron Saint <i>Anthony</i>, would have me to see al the -holy Reliques, which he had there under his charge: whereof there were -so many, as if I should recount them all to you, I never could come to a -conclusion. But yet, not to leave you discomforted, I will relate some -few of them to you.</p> - -<p>First of all, he shewed me the finger of the holy Ghost, so whole and -perfect, as ever it was. Next, the nose of the Cherubin, which appeared -to Saint <i>Frances</i>; with the payring of the naile of a Seraphin; and one -of the ribbes of <i>Verbum caro</i>, fastened to one of the Windowes, covered -with the holy garments of the Catholique Faith. Then he tooke me -into a darke Chappel, where he shewed me divers beames of the Starre -that appeared to the three Kings in the East. Also a Violl of Saint <i>Michaels</i> -sweate, when he combatted with the divell: And the jaw-bone of -dead <i>Lazarus</i>, with many other precious things beside. And because I -was liberall to him, giving him two of the Plaines of <i>Monte Morello</i>, -in the Vulgare Edition, and some of the Chapters <i>del Caprezio</i>, which -he had long laboured in search of; he bestowed on me some of his Reliques.</p> - -<p>First, he gave me one of the eye-teeth of <i>Santa Crux</i>; and a little Violl, -filled with some part of the sound of those Belles, which hung in the -sumptuous Temple of <i>Salomon</i>. Next, he gave mee the Feather of the -Phoenix, which was with <i>Noah</i> in the Arke, as before I told you. And -one of the Woodden Pattens, which the good Saint <i>Gerrard de Magnavilla</i> -used to weare in his travailes, and which I gave (not long since) to -<i>Gerrardo di Bousy</i> at <i>Florence</i>, where it is respected with much devotion. -Moreover, he gave me a few of those Coales, wherewith the Phoenix -of <i>Noah</i> was roasted; all which things I brought away thence with -me. Now, most true it is, that my Superiour would never suffer mee to -shew them any where, untill he was faithfully certified, whether they -were the same precious Reliques, or no. But perceyving by sundrie -Myracles which they have wrought, and Letters of sufficient credence -receyved from the reverend Patriarch, that all is true, he hath graunted -me permission to shew them, and because I wold not trust any one with -matters of such moment, I my selfe brought them hither with me.</p> - -<p>Now I must tell you, that the Feather of the same Phoenix, I conveyed -into a small Cabinet or Casket, because it should not be bent or broken. -And the Coales wherewith the said Phoenix was roasted, I put into -another Casket, in all respects so like to the former, that many times I -have taken one for another. As now at this instant it hath bin my fortune: -for, imagining that I brought the Casket with the feather, I mistooke my -self, & brought the other with the coales. Wherein doubtles I have not -offended, because I am certaine, that we of our Order do not any thing, -but it is ordred by divine direction, and our blessed Patron the Lorde -Baron Saint <i>Anthony</i>. And so much the rather, because about a senight -hence, the Feast of Saint <i>Anthony</i> is to bee solemnized, against the preparation -whereof, and to kindle your zeale with the greater fervencie: -he put the Casket with the Coales into my hand, meaning, to let you -see the Feather, at some more fitting season. And therefore my blessed -Sonnes and Daughters, put off your Bonnets, and come hither with devotion -to looke upon them. But first let me tell you, whosoever is marked -by any of these Coales, with the signe of the Crosse: he or she shal -live all this yeare happily, and no fire whatsoever shall come neere to -touch or hurt them. So, singing a solemne Antheme in the praise of S. -<i>Anthony</i>, he unveyled the Casket, and shewed the Coales openly.</p> - -<p>The simple multitude, having (with great admiration and reverence) -a long while beheld them, they thronged in crouds to Fryar <i>Onyon</i>, giving -him farre greater offerings, then before they had, and entreating -him to marke them each after other. Whereupon, he taking the coales -in his hand, began to marke their garments of white, and the veyles on -the Womens heads, with Crosses of no meane extendure: affirming -to them, that the more the Coales wasted with making those great crosses, -the more they still encreased in the Casket, as often before hee had -made triall.</p> - -<p>In this manner, having crossed all the <i>Certaldanes</i> (to his great benefit) -and their abuse: he smiled at his sodaine and dexterious devise, in -mockery of them, who thought to have made a scorne of him, by dispossessing -him of the Feather. For <i>Bragoniero</i> and <i>Pizzino</i>, being present -at his Learned predication, and having heard what a cunning shift -he found, to come off cleanly, without the least detection, and all delivered -with such admirable protestations: they were faine to forsake the -Church, least they should have burst with laughing.</p> - -<p>But when all the people were parted and gone, they met Friar <i>Onyon</i> -at his Inne, where closely they discovered to him, what they had -done, delivering him his Feather againe: which the yeare -following, did yeeld him as much money, as -now the Coales had -done.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>This Novell affoorded equall pleasing to the whole companie, -Friar <i>Onyons</i> Sermon being much commended, but especially -his long Pilgrimage, and the Reliques he had both seene, and -brought home with him. Afterward, the Queene perceiving, that her -reigne had now the full expiration, graciously she arose, and taking the -Crowne from off her owne head, placed on the head of <i>Dioneus</i>, saying. -It is high time <i>Dioneus</i>, that you should taste part of the charge & paine, -which poore women have felt and undergone in their soveraigntie and -government: wherefore, be you our King, and rule us with such awefull -authority, that the ending of your dominion may yeelde us all contentment. -<i>Dioneus</i> being thus invested with the Crowne, returned this -answer.</p> - -<p>I make no doubt (bright Beauties) but you many times have seene as -good, or a better King among the Chesse-men, then I am. But yet of a -certainty, if you would be obedient to me, as you ought in dutie unto a -true King: I should grant you a liberall freedome of that, wherein you -take the most delight, and without which, our choisest desires can never -be compleate. Neverthelesse, I meane, that my government shal be according -to mine owne minde. So, causing the Master of the Houshold -to be called for, as all the rest were wont to do for conference with him: -he gave him direction, for al things fitting the time of his Regiment, and -then turning to the Ladies, thus he proceeded.</p> - -<p>Honest Ladies, we have alreadie discoursed of variable devises, and -so many severall manners of humane industry, concerning the busines -wherewith <i>Licisca</i> came to acquaint us: that her very words, have ministred -me matter, sufficient for our morrowes conference, or else I stand -in doubt, that I could not have devised a more convenient Theame for -us to talke on. She (as you have all heard) saide, that shee had not anie -neighbour, who came a true Virgin to her Husband, and added moreover, -that she knew some others, who had beguiled their Husbandes, in -very cunning and crafty manner. But setting aside the first part, concerning -the proofe of children, I conceive the second to bee more apte -for our intended argument. In which respect, my will is (seeing <i>Licisca</i> -hath given us so good an occasion) that our discoursing to morrow, may -onely concerne such slye cunning and deceits, as women have heeretofore -used, for satisfying their owne appetites, and beguiling their Husbands, -without their knowledge, or suspition, and cleanly escaping with -them, or no.</p> - -<p>This argument seemed not very pleasing to the Ladies, and therefore -they urged an alteration thereof, to some matter better suting with the -day, and their discoursing: whereto thus he answered. Ladies, I know -as well as your selves, why you would have this instant argument altered: -but, to change me from it you have no power, considering the season -is such, as shielding all (both men and women) from meddling with -any dishonest action; it is lawfull for us to speake of what wee please. -And know you not, that through the sad occasion of the time, which -now over-ruleth us, the Judges have forsaken their venerable benches, -the Lawes (both divine and humane) ceasing, granting ample license to -every one, to do what best agreeth with the conservation of life? Therefore, -if your honesties doe straine themselves a little, both in thinking -and speaking, not for prosecution of any immodest deede, but onely for -familiar and blamelesse entercourse: I cannot devise a more convenient -ground, at least that carrieth apparant reason, for reproofe of perils, to -ensue by any of you. Moreover, your company, which hath bin most -honest, since the first day of our meeting, to this instant: appeareth not -any jot to be disgraced, by any thing either said or done, neither shal be -(I hope) in the meanest degree.</p> - -<p>And what is he, knowing your choise and vertuous dispositions, so -powerfull in their owne prevailing, that wanton words cannot misguide -your wayes, no nor the terror of death it selfe, that dare insinuate a distempred -thought? But admit, that some slight or shallow judgements, -hearing you (perhaps sometimes) talke of such amorous follies, should -therefore suspitiously imagine you to be faulty, or else you would bee -more sparing of speech? Their wit and censure are both alike, favouring -rather of their owne vile nature, who would brand others with their -basebred imperfections. Yet there is another consideration beside, of som -great injury offered to mine honour, and whereof I know not how you -can acquit your selves.</p> - -<p>I that have bin obedient to you all, and borne the heavy load of your -businesse, having now (with full consent) created mee your King, you -would wrest the law out of my hands, and dispose of my authoritie as -you please. Forbeare (gentle Ladies) all frivolous suspitions, more fit -for them that are full of bad thoughts, then you, who have true Vertue -shining in your eyes; and therefore, let every one freely speake their -minde, according as their humors best pleaseth them.</p> - -<p>When the Ladies heard this, they made answer, that all should bee -answerable to his minde. Whereupon, the King gave them all leave to -dispose of themselves till supper time. And because the Sun was yet very -high, in regard all the re counted Novels had bin so short: <i>Dioneus</i> -went to play at the Tables with another of the young Gentlemen, & Madame -<i>Eliza</i>, having withdrawne the Ladies aside, thus spake unto them. -During the time of our being heere, I have often bene desirous to let you -see a place somwhat neere at hand, and which I suppose you have never -seene, it being called <i>The Valley of Ladies</i>. Till now, I could not finde any -convenient time to bring you thither, the Sunne continuing still aloft, -which fitteth you with the apter leysure, and the sight (I am sure) -can no way discontent you.</p> - -<p>The Ladies replyed, that they were all ready to walk with her thither: -and calling one of their women to attend on them, they set on, without -speaking a word to any of the men. And within the distance of halfe a -mile, they arrived at the <i>Valley of Ladies</i>, whereinto they entred by a strait -passage at the one side, from whence there issued forth a cleare running -River. And they found the saide Valley to bee so goodly and pleasant, -especially in that season, which was the hottest of all the yeare; as all the -world was no where able to yeeld the like. And, as one of the said Ladies -(since then) related to mee, there was a plaine in the Valley so directly -round, as if it had beene formed by a compasse, yet rather it resembled -the Workmanship of Nature, then to be made by the hand of -man: containing in circuite somewhat more then the quarter of a mile, -environed with sixe small hils, of no great height, and on each of them -stood a little Palace, shaped in the fashion of Castles.</p> - -<p>The ground-plots descending from those hils or mountaines, grew -lesse and lesse by variable degrees, as wee observe at entering into our -Theaters, from the highest part to the lowest, succinctly to narrow the -circle by order. Now, concerning these ground-plottes or little Meadowes, -those which the Sun Southward looked on, were full of Vines, -Olive-trees, Almond-trees, Cherry-trees, and Figge-trees, with divers -other Trees beside, so plentifully bearing fruites, as you could not -discerne a hands bredth of losse. The other Mountaines, whereon the -Northerne windes blow, were curiously covered with small Thickets -or Woods of Oakes, Ashes, and other Trees so greene and straite, as -it was impossible to behold fairer. The goodly plaine it selfe, not having -any other entrance, but where the Ladies came in, was planted -with Trees of Firre, Cipresse, Laurell, and Pines; so singularly growing -in formall order, as if some artificiall or cunning hand had planted -them, the Sun hardly piercing through their branches, from the top to -the bottome, even at his highest, or any part of his course.</p> - -<p>All the whole field was richly spred with grasse, and such variety of -delicate Flowers, as Nature yeilded out of her plenteous Store-house. -But that which gave no lesse delight then any of the rest, was a small running -Brooke, descending from one of the Vallies, that divided two of -the little hils, and fell through a Veine of the intire Rocke it selfe, that -the fall and murmure thereof was most delightfull to heare, seeming all -the way in the descent, like Quicke-silver, weaving it selfe into artificiall -workes, and arriving in the plaine beneath, it was there receyved -into a small Channell, swiftly running through the midst of the plaine, -to a place where it stayed, and shaped it selfe into a Lake or Pond, such -as our Citizens have in their Orchards or Gardens, when they please to -make use of such a commodity.</p> - -<p>This Pond was no deeper, then to reach the breast of a man, and having -no mud or soyle in it, the bottome thereof shewed like small beaten -gravell, with pretty pibble stones intermixed, which some that had -nothing else to do, would sit downe and count them as they lay, as very -easily they might. And not onely was the bottome thus apparantly -seene, but also such plenty of Fishes swimming every way, as the mind -was never to be wearied in looking on them. Nor was this water bounded -in with any bankes, but onely the sides of the plain Medow, which -made it appeare the more sightly, as it arose in swelling plenty. And alwayes -as it super-abounded in his course, least it should overflow disorderly: -it fell into another Channell, which conveying it along the lower -Valley, ran forth to water other needfull places.</p> - -<p>When the Ladies were arrived in this goodly valley, and upon advised -viewing it, had sufficiently commended it: in regard the heat of the -day was great, the place tempting, and the Pond free from sight of any, -they resolved there to bathe themselves. Wherefore they sent the waiting -Gentlewoman to have a diligent eye on the way where they entered, -least any one should chance to steale upon them. All seven of them -being stript naked, into the water they went, which hid their delicate -white bodies, like as a cleare Glasse concealeth a Damask Rose within it. -So they being in the Pond, and the water nothing troubled by their being -there, they found much pretty pastime together, running after the -Fishes, to catch them with their hands, but they were over-quicke and -cunning for them. After they had delighted themselves there to their -owne contentment, and were cloathed with their garments, as before: -thinking it fit time for their returning backe againe, least their over-long -stay might give offence, they departed thence in an easie pace, dooing -nothing else all the way as they went, but extolling the <i>Valley of Ladies</i> -beyond all comparison.</p> - -<p>At the Palace they arrived in a due houre, finding the three Gentlemen -at play, as they left them, to whom Madame <i>Pampinea</i> pleasantly -thus spake. Now trust me Gallants, this day wee have very cunningly -beguiled you. How now? answered <i>Dioneus</i>, begin you first to act, before -you speake? Yes truly Sir, replyed Madame <i>Pampinea</i>: Relating -to him at large, from whence they came, what they had done there, -the beautie of the place, and the distance thence. The King (upon hir -excellent report) being very desirous to see it; sodainely commaunded -Supper to be served in, which was no sooner ended, but they and their -three servants (leaving the Ladies) walked on to the <i>Valley</i>, which when -they had considered, no one of them having ever bin there before; they -thought it to be the Paradise of the World.</p> - -<p>They bathed themselves there likewise, as the Ladies formerlie had -done, and being re-vested, returned backe to their Lodgings, because -darke night drew on apace: but they found the Ladies dauncing, to a -Song which Madame <i>Fiammetta</i> sung. When the dance was ended, -they entertained the time with no other discourse, but onely concerning -the <i>Valley of Ladies</i>, whereof they all spake liberally in commendations. -Whereupon, the King called the Master of the Houshold, giving -him command, that (on the morrow) dinner should be readie betimes, -and bedding to be thence carried, if any desired rest at mid-time -of the day.</p> - -<p>All this being done, variety of pleasing Wines were brought, Banquetting -stuffe, and other dainties; after which they fell to Dauncing. -And <i>Pamphilus</i>, having receyved command, to begin an especiall dance, -the King turned himselfe unto Madame <i>Eliza</i>, speaking thus. Faire Lady, -you have done me so much honour this day, as to deliver mee the -Crowne: in regard whereof, be you this night the Mistresse of the song: -and let it be such as best may please your selfe. Whereunto Madam -<i>Eliza</i>, with a modest blush arising in her face, replyed; That his will -should be fulfilled, and then (with a delicate voyce) she beganne in this -manner.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>The Song.</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The CHORUS sung by all.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Love, if I can scape free from forth thy holde,<br /></span> -<span class="i12">Beleeve it for a truth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never more shall thy falshoode me enfolde.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">When I was young, I entred first thy fights,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Supposing there to finde a solemne peace:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I threw off all my Armes, and with delights<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fed my poore hopes, as still they did encrease.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But like a Tyrant, full of rancorous hate<br /></span> -<span class="i9">Thou tookst advantage:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I sought refuge, but it was too late.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Love, if I can scape free, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">But being thus surprized in thy snares,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To my misfortune, thou madst me her slave;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was onely borne to feede me with despaires,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And keepe me dying in a living grave.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For I saw nothing dayly fore mine eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">But rackes and tortures:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From which I could not get in any wise.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Love, if I can scape free, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">My sighes and teares I vented to the winde,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For none would heare or pittie my complaints;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My torments still encreased in this kinde,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And more and more I felt these sharpe restraints.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Release me now at last from forth this hell.<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Asswage thy rigour,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Delight not thus in cruelty to dwell,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Love, if I can scape free, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">If this thou wilt not grant, be yet so kinde,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Release me from these worse then servile bands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which new vaine hopes have bred, wherein I finde;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such violent feares, as comfort quite withstands.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be now (at length) a little moov'd to pittie,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Be it nere so little:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or in my death listen my Swan-like Dittie.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Love, if I can scape free from forth thy holde,<br /></span> -<span class="i11">Beleeve it for a truth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never more shall thy falshood me enfolde.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>After that Madame <i>Eliza</i> had made an end of her Song, which shee -sealed up with an heart-breaking sigh: they all sate amazedly wondering -at her moanes, not one among them being able to conjecture, what -should be the reason of her singing in this manner. But the King being -in a good and pleasing temper, calling <i>Tindaro</i>, commaunded him to -bring his Bagge-pipe, by the sound whereof they danced divers daunces: -And a great part of the night being spent in this manner, -they all gave over, and departed to their -Chambers.</p> - -<h4><i>The End of the Sixth Day.</i></h4> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="The_Seventh_Day" id="The_Seventh_Day">The Seventh Day.</a></h2> - -<h4><i>When the Assembly being met together, and under -the Regiment of</i> Dioneus: <i>the Discourses are directed, for the discoverie -of such policies and deceites, as women have used for beguiling of their -Husbandes, either in respect of their love, or for the prevention of some -blame or scandal, escaping without sight, knowledge or otherwise.</i></h4> - -<h4>The Induction to the Dayes -Discourses.</h4> - - -<p>All the Starres were departed out of the East, -but onely that, which we commonly cal bright -<i>Lucifer</i>, or the Day-Star, gracing the morning -very gloriously: when the Master of the household, -being risen, went with all the provision, -to the <i>Valley of Ladies</i>, to make everie thing in -due and decent readines, according as his Lord -over-night had commanded him. After which -departure of his, it was not long before the King arose, beeing awaked -with the noise which the carriages made; and when he was up, the other -two Gentlemen and the Ladies were quickly readie soone after. -On they set towards the <i>Valley</i>, even as the Sunne was rising: and all -the way as they went, never before had they heard so many sweete -Nightingales, and other pretty Birds melodiously singing, as they did -this morning, which keeping them company thoroughout the journey, -they arrived at the <i>Valley of Ladies</i>, where it seemed to them, that infinite -Quires of delicate Nightingales, and other Birds, had purposely made -a meeting, even as it were to give them a glad welcome thither.</p> - -<p>Divers times they walked about the <i>Valley</i>, never satisfied with viewing -it from one end to the other; because it appeared farre more pleasing -unto them, then it had done the precedent day: and because the -dayes splendour was much more conforme to the beauty thereof. After -they had broken their fast, with excellent Wines and Banquetting -stuffe, they began to tune their instruments and sing; because (therein) -the sweet Birds should not excell them, the <i>Valley</i> (with delicate Echoes) -answering all their notes. When dinner time drew neere, the Tables -were covered under the spreading trees, and by the goodly Ponds side, -where they sate downe orderly by the Kings direction: and all dinner -while, they saw the Fishes swimme by huge shoales in the Pond, which -sometimes gave them occasion to talke, as well as gaze on them.</p> - -<p>When dinner was ended, and the Tables withdrawne, in as jocond -manner as before, they renewed againe their hermonious singing. In divers -places of this pleasant <i>Valley</i>, were goodly field-Beds readily furnished, -according as the Master of the Houshold gave enstruction, enclosed -with Pavillions of costly stuffes, such as are sometimes brought out -of <i>France</i>. Such as were so disposed, were licensed by the King to take -their rest: and they that would not, he permitted them to their wonted -pastimes, each according to their minds. But when they were risen from -sleepe, and the rest from their other exercises, it seemed to be more then -high time, that they should prepare for talke and conference. So, sitting -downe on Turky Carpets, which were spred abroad on the green grasse, -and close by the place where they had dined: the King gave command, -that Madam <i>Æmillia</i> should first begin, whereto she willingly yeelding -obedience, and expecting such silent attention, as formerly had bin observed, -thus she began.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="John_of_Lorraine_heard_one_knocke_at_his_doore_in_the_night_time_whereuppon" id="John_of_Lorraine_heard_one_knocke_at_his_doore_in_the_night_time_whereuppon">John <i>of</i> Lorraine <i>heard one knocke at his doore in the night time, whereuppon -he awaked his Wife</i> Monna Tessa. <i>She made him beleeve, that it was -a Spirit which knocked at the doore, and so they arose, going both together -to conjure the Spirit with a prayer; and afterwardes, they heard no more -knocking.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The First Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Reprehending the simplicity of some sottish Husbands: And discovering the -wanton subtilties of some women, to compasse their unlawfull desires.</i></h4> - - -<p>My Gracious Lord (quoth Madame <i>Æmillia</i>) it -had bene a matter highly pleasing to mee, that -any other (rather than my selfe) should have begun -to speake of this argument, which it hath -pleased you to apoint. But seeing it is your Highnesse -pleasure, that I must make a passage of assurance -for all the rest; I will not be irregular, because -obedience is our cheefe Article. I shall -therefore (Gracious Ladies) strive, to speake something, which may bee -advantageable to you heereafter, in regard, that if other women bee as -fearfull as we, especially of Spirits, of which all our sexe have generally -bin timorous (although, upon my credite, I know not what they are, -nor ever could meete with any, to tell me what they be) you may by the -diligent observation of my Novell: learne a wholsome and holy prayer, -very available, and of precious power, to conjure and drive them away, -whensoever they shall presume to assault you in any place.</p> - -<p>There dwelt sometime in <i>Florence</i>, and in the street of Saint <i>Brancazio</i>, -a woollen Weaver, named <i>John</i> of <i>Lorrayne</i>; a man more happy in -his Art, then wise in any thing else beside: because, favouring somewhat -of the <i>Gregorie</i>, and (in very deede) little lesse then an Ideot; Hee -was many times made Captain of the Woollen-Weavers, in the quarters -belonging to <i>Santa Maria Novella</i>, and his house was the Schoole or -receptacle, for all their meetings and assemblies. He had divers other -petty Offices beside, by the dignity and authority whereof, hee supposed -himselfe much exalted or elevated, above the common pitch of other -men. And this humour became the more tractable to him, because -he addicted himselfe oftentimes (as being a man of an easie inclination) -to be a benefactor to the holy Fathers of <i>Santa Maria Novella</i>, giving -(beside his other charitable Almes) to someone a paire of Breeches, to -another a Hood, and to another a whole habit. In reward whereof, they -taught him (by heart) many wholsome prayers, as the <i>Pater noster</i> in -the vulgar tongue; the Song of Saint <i>Alexis</i>; the Lamentations of Saint -<i>Bernard</i>, the Hymne of Madame <i>Matilda</i>, and many other such like -matters, which he kept charily, and repeated usually, as tending to the -salvation of his soule.</p> - -<p>This man, had a very faire and lovely wife, named <i>Monna Tessa</i>, the -daughter of <i>Manuccio della Cuculia</i>, wise and well advised; who knowing -the simplicity of her Husband, and affecting <i>Frederigo di Neri Pegolotti</i>, -who was a comely young Gentleman, fresh, and in the floure of his -time, even as she was, therefore they agreed the better together. By -meanes of her Chamber-maid, <i>Frederigo</i> and shee met often together, -at a Countrie Farme of <i>John</i> of <i>Lorraynes</i>, which hee had neere to <i>Florence</i>, -and where she used to lodge all the Summer time, called <i>Camerata</i>, -whether <i>John</i> resorted somtimes to Supper, and lodge for a night, -returning home againe to his City house the next morning; yet often -he would stay there longer with his owne companions.</p> - -<p><i>Frederigo</i>, who was no meane man in his Mistresses favor, and therefore -these private meetings the more welcome to him; received a summons -or assignation from her, to be there on such a night, when hir husband -had no intent of comming thither. There they supped merrily -together, and (no doubt) did other things, nothing appertaining to our -purpose, she both acquainting, and well instructing him, in a dozen (at -the least) of her Husbands devout prayers. Nor did shee make any account, -or <i>Frederigo</i> either, that this should be the last time of their meeting, -because (indeede) it was not the first: and therfore they set down -an order and conclusion together (because the Chambermaide must be -no longer the messenger) in such manner as you shall heare.</p> - -<p><i>Frederigo</i> was to observe especially, that alwayes when hee went or -came from his owne house, which stood much higher then <i>John</i> of <i>Lorraynes</i> -did, to looke upon a Vine, closely adjoyning to her house, where -stood the scull of an Asses head, advanced upon an high pole; & when -the face thereof looked towards <i>Florence</i>, he might safely come, it being -an assured signe, that <i>John</i> kept at home. And if he found the doore -fast shut, he should softly knocke three severall times, and thereon bee -admitted entrance. But if the face stood towards <i>Fiesola</i>; then he might -not come, for it was the signe of <i>Johns</i> being there, and then there might -be no meddling at all.</p> - -<p>Having thus agreed upon this conclusion, and had many merry meetings -together: one night above the rest, where <i>Frederigo</i> was appointed -to suppe with <i>Monna Tessa</i>, who had made ready two fat Capons, -drest in most dainty and delicate manner: it fell out so unfortunately, -that <i>John</i> (whose Kue was not to come that night) came thither very late, -yet before <i>Frederigo</i>, wherewith she being not a little offended, gave <i>John</i> -a slight supper, of Lard, Bacon, and such like coarse provision, because -the other was kept for a better guest. In the meane time, and while <i>John</i> -was at supper, the Maide (by her Mistresses direction) had conveighed -the two Capons, with boyled Egges, Bread and a Bottle of Wine (all -folded up in a faire cleane table cloth) into her Garden, that had a passage -to it, without entering into the house, and where shee had divers -times supt with <i>Frederigo</i>. She further willed the Maide, to set all those -things under a Peach-tree, which adjoyned to the fields side: but, so angry -she was at her husbands unexpected comming, that shee forgot to -bid her tarrie there, till <i>Frederigoes</i> comming; and to tell him of <i>Johns</i> -being there: as also, to take what he found prepared readie for his Supper.</p> - -<p><i>John</i> and she being gone to bed together, and the Maide likewise, it -was not long after, before <i>Frederigo</i> came, and knocking once softly at -the doore, which was very neere to their lodging Chamber, <i>John</i> heard -the noise, and so did his wife. But to the end, that <i>John</i> might not have -the least scruple of suspition, she seemed to be fast asleepe; and <i>Frederigo</i> -pausing a while, according to the order directed, knockt againe the second -time. <i>John</i> wondering thereat very much, jogd his wife a little, and -saide to her: <i>Tessa</i>, hearest thou nothing? Me thinkes one knocketh at -our doore. <i>Monna Tessa</i>, who was better acquainted with the knocke, -then plaine honest meaning <i>John</i> was, dissembling as if shee awaked out -of a drowsie dreame, saide: Alas Husband, dost thou know what this -is? In the name of our blessed Ladie, be not affraid, this is but the Spirit -which haunts our Countrey houses, whereof I have often told thee, and -it hath many times much dismayed me, living heere alone without thy -comfort. Nay, such hath bin my feare, that in divers nights past, so -soone as I heard the knockes: I was feigne to hide my selfe in the bedde -over-head and eares (as we usually say) never daring to be so bold, as to -looke out, untill it was broad open day. Arise good wife (quoth <i>John</i>) -and if it be such a Spirit of the Countrey, as thou talkest of, never be affraid; -for before we went to bed, I said the <i>Telucis</i>, the <i>Intemerata</i>, with -many other good prayers beside. Moreover, I made the signe of the -Crosse at every corner of our bed, in the name of the Father, -Son, and holy Ghost, so that no doubt at all needs to be made, of any -power it can have to hurt or touch us.</p> - -<p><i>Monna Tessa</i>, because (perhaps) <i>Frederigo</i> might receive some other -suspition, and so enter into distaste of her by anger or offence: determined -to arise indeede, and to let him covertly understand, that <i>John</i> was -there, and therefore saide to her husband. Beleeve me <i>John</i>, thy counsell -is good, and every one of thy words hath wisedome in it: but I hold -it best for our owne safety, thou being heere; that wee should conjure -him quite away, to the end he may never more haunt our house. Conjure -him Wife? Quoth <i>John</i>, By what meanes? and how? Bee patient -good man (quoth <i>Tessa</i>) and I will enstruct thee. I have learned an excellent -kinde of conjuration; for, the last weeke, when I went to procure -the pardons at <i>Fiesola</i>, one of the holy recluse Nuns, who (indeede <i>John</i>) -is my indeered Sister and Friend, and the most sanctimonious in life of -them all; perceiving me to be troubled and terrified by Spirits; taught -me a wholsome and holy prayer, and protested withall, that shee had -often made experiment thereof, before she became a Recluse, & found -it (alwayes) a present helpe to her. Yet never durst I adventure to essay -it, living heere by my selfe all alone: but honest <i>John</i>, seeing thou art -heere with me, we will go both together, and conjure this Spirit. <i>John</i> -replyed, that he was very willing; and being both up, they went fayre -and softly to the doore, where <i>Frederigo</i> stoode still without, and was -growne somewhat suspitious of his long attendance.</p> - -<p>When they were come to the doore, <i>Monna Tessa</i> said to <i>John</i>: Thou -must cough and spet, at such time as I shall bid thee. Well (quoth <i>John</i>) -I will not faile you. Immediately she beganne her prayer in this manner.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Spirit, that walkst thus in the night,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Poore Countrey people to affright:</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Thou hast mistane thy marke and ayme,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>The head stood right, but</i> John <i>home came,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>And therefore thou must packe away,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>For I have nothing else to say:</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>But to my Garden get the gone,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Under the Peach-tree stands alone,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>There shalt thou finde two Capons drest,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>And Egges laide in mine owne Hennes nest,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Bread, and a Bottle of good wine,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>All wrapt up in a cloath most fine.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Is not this good Goblins fare?</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Packe and say you have your share;</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Not doing harme to</i> John <i>or me,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Who this night keepes me companie.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> - -<p>No sooner had she ended her devoute conjuring prayer, but she saide -to her husband: Now <i>John</i>, cough and spet: which <i>John</i> accordingly -did. And <i>Frederigo</i>, being all this while without, hearing her witty conjuration -of a Spirit, which he himselfe was supposed to be, being ridde of -his former jealous suspition: in the midst of all his melancholy, could -very hardly refraine from laughing, the jest appeared so pleasing to him: -But when <i>John</i> cought and spet, softly he said to himselfe: When next -thou spetst, spet out all thy teeth.</p> - -<p>The woman having three severall times conjured the Spirite, in such -manner you have already heard; returned to bed againe with her husband: -and <i>Frederigo</i>, who came as perswaded to sup with her, being supperlesse -all this while; directed by the words of <i>Monna Tessa</i> in hir praier, -went into the Garden. At the foot of the Peach-tree, there he found -the linnen cloth, with the two hot Capons, Bread, Egges, and a Bottle -of Wine in it, all which he carried away with him, and went to Supper -at better leysure. Oftentimes afterward, upon other meetings of <i>Frederigo</i> -and she together, they laughed heartily at her enchantment, and the -honest beleefe of silly <i>John</i>.</p> - -<p>I cannot deny, but that some do affirme, that the Woman had turned -the face of the Asses head towards <i>Fiesola</i>, and a Country Travailer -passing by the Vine, having a long piked staffe on his necke; the staffe, -(by chance) touched the head, and made it turne divers times about, & -in the end faced <i>Florence</i>, which being the cal for <i>Frederigoes</i> comming, -by this meanes he was disappointed. In like manner some say, that <i>Monna -Tessaes</i> prayer for conjuring the Spirit, was in this order.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Spirit, Spirit, go thy way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And come againe some other day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was not I that turnd the head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But some other. In our Bed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are John and I: Go from our dore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And see thou trouble us no more.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>So that <i>Frederigo</i> departed thence, both with the losse of his labour & -supper. But a neighbour of mine, who is a woman of good yeares, told -me, that both the one and other were true, as she her selfe heard, when -she was a little Girle. And concerning the latter accident, it was not to -<i>John</i> of <i>Lorrayne</i>, but to another, named <i>John de Nello</i>, that dwelt at S. -<i>Peters</i> Gate, and of the same profession as <i>John</i> of <i>Lorrayne</i> was. Wherefore -(faire Ladies) it remaineth in your owne choice, to entertain which -of the two prayers you please, or both together if you will: for they are -of extraordinary vertue in such strange occurrences, as you have heeretofore -heard, and (upon doubt) may prove by experience. It shall not -therefore be amisse for you, to learne them both by hart, for (peradventure) -they may stand you in good sted, if ever you chance to have the like -occasion.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Peronella_hid_a_young_man_her_friend_and_Lover_under_a_great_brewing_Fat" id="Peronella_hid_a_young_man_her_friend_and_Lover_under_a_great_brewing_Fat">Peronella <i>hid a young man her friend and Lover, under a great brewing Fat, -upon the sodaine returning home of her Husband; who told her, that hee -had solde the saide Fat, and brought him that bought it, to carry it away.</i> -Peronella <i>replyed, that shee had formerly solde it unto another, who was -nowe underneath it, to see whether it were whole and sound, or no. Whereupon, -he being come forth from under it; she caused her Husband to make -it neate and cleane, and so the last buyer carried it away.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Second Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is declared, what hard and narrow shifts and distresses, such as bee -seriously linked in Love, are many times enforced to undergo: According -as their owne wit, and capacitie of their surprizers, drive them to in extremities.</i></h4> - - -<p>Not without much laughter and good liking, was the Tale of -Madame <i>Æmillia</i> listened unto, and both the prayers commended -to be sound and soveraigne: but it being ended, the -King commaunded <i>Philostratus</i>, that hee should follow next in order, -whereupon thus he began.</p> - -<p>Deare Ladies, the deceites used by men towards your sexe, but especially -Husbands, have bene so great and many, as when it hath sometime -happened, or yet may, that husbands are requited in the self-same -kinde: you need not finde fault at any such accident, either by knowledge -thereof afterward, or hearing the same reported by any one; but -rather you should referre it to generall publication, to the end, that immodest -men may know, and finde it for trueth, that if they have apprehension -and capacity; women are therein not a jote inferiour to them. -Which cannot but redound to your great benefite, because, when any -one knoweth, that another is as cunning and subtile as himselfe; he will -not be so rashly adventurous in deceite. And who maketh any doubt, -that if those sleights and trickes, whereof this dayes argument may -give us occasion to speake, should afterwardes be put in execution by -men: would it not minister just reason, of punishing themselves for beguiling -you, knowing, that (if you please) you have the like abilitie in -your owne power? Mine intent therefore is to tell you, what a woman -(though but of meane quality) did to her husband, upon a sodaine, and -in a moment (as it were) for her owne safety.</p> - -<p>Not long since, there lived in <i>Naples</i>, an honest meane man, who did -take to Wife, a fayre and lustie young Woman, being named <i>Peronella</i>. -He professing the Trade of a Mason, and shee Carding and Spinning, -maintained themselves in a reasonable condition, abating and -abounding as their Fortunes served. It came to passe, that a certayne -young man, well observing the beauty and good parts of <i>Peronella</i>, became -much addicted in affection towardes her: and by his often and -secret sollicitations, which he found not to be unkindely entertayned; -his successe proved answerable to his hope, no unindifferencie appearing -in their purposes, but where her estate seemed weakest, his supplies -made an addition of more strength.</p> - -<p>Now, for their securer meeting, to stand cleare from all matter of -scandal or detection, they concluded in this order between themselves. -<i>Lazaro</i>, for so was <i>Peronellaes</i> Husband named, being an earely riser every -morning, either to seeke for worke, or to effect it being undertaken: -this amorous friend being therewith acquainted, and standing in -some such convenient place, where hee could see <i>Lazaroes</i> departure -from his house, and yet himselfe no way discerned; poore <i>Lazaro</i> was -no sooner gone, but presently he enters the house, which stood in a verie -solitarie street, called the <i>Avorio</i>. Many mornings had they thus met -together, to their no meane delight and contentation, till one especiall -morning among the rest, when <i>Lazaro</i> was gone forth to worke, and -<i>Striguario</i> (so was the amorous young man named) visiting <i>Peronella</i> in -the house: upon a very urgent occasion, <i>Lazaro</i> returned backe againe, -quite contrary to his former wont, keeping foorth all day, and never -comming home till night.</p> - -<p>Finding his doore to be fast lockt, and he having knockt softlie once -or twice, he spake in this manner to himselfe. Fortune I thanke thee, -for albeit thou hast made mee poore, yet thou hast bestowed a better -blessing on me, in matching me with so good, honest, & loving a Wife. -Behold, though I went early out of my house, her selfe hath risen in the -cold to shut the doore, to prevent the entrance of theeves, or any other -that might offend us. <i>Peronella</i> having heard what her husband sayde, -and knowing the manner of his knocke, said fearfully to <i>Striguario</i>. Alas -deare friend, what shall wee doe? I am little lesse then a dead Woman: -For, <i>Lazaro</i> my Husband is come backe again, and I know not what to -do or say. He never returned in this order before now, doubtlesse, hee -saw when you entred the doore; and for the safety of your honour and -mine: creepe under this brewing Fat, till I have opened the doore, to -know the reason of his so soone returning.</p> - -<p><i>Striguario</i> made no delaying of the matter, but got himselfe closelie -under the Fat, and Peronella opening the doore for her husbands enterance, -with a frowning countenance, spake thus unto him. What meaneth -this so early returning home againe this morning? It seemeth, thou -intendest to do nothing to day, having brought backe thy tooles in thy -hands. If such be thine intent, how shall we live? Where shal we have -bread to fill our bellies? Dooest thou thinke, that I will suffer thee to -pawne my gowne, and other poore garments, as heeretofore thou hast -done? I that card and spinne both night and day, till I have worne the -flesh from my fingers; yet all will hardly finde oyle to maintaine our -Lampe. Husband, husband, there is not one neighbour dwelling by -us, but makes a mockerie of me, and tels me plainly, that I may be ashamed -to drudge and moyle as I do; wondering not a little, how I am able -to endure it; and thou returnest home with thy hands in thy hose, as if -thou hadst no worke at all to do this day.</p> - -<p>Having thus spoken, she fell to weeping, and then thus began again. -Poore wretched woman as I am, in an unfortunate houre was I borne, -and in a much worse, when I was made thy Wife. I could have had a -proper, handsome young man; one, that would have maintained mee -brave and gallantly: but, beast as I was, to forgoe my good, and cast -my selfe away on such a beggar as thou art, and whom none wold have -had, but such an Asse as I. Other women live at hearts ease, and in jollity, -have their amorous friends and loving Paramours, yea, one, two, -three at once, making their husbands looke like a Moone cressent, whereon -they shine Sun-like, with amiable lookes, because they know not how -to helpe it: when I (poore foole) live heere at home a miserable life, not -daring once to dreame of such follies, an innocent soule, heartlesse and -harmelesse.</p> - -<p>Many times, sitting and sighing to my selfe: Lord, thinke I, of what -mettall am I made? Why should not I have a Friend in a corner, as well -as others have? I am flesh and blood, as they are, not made of brasse or -iron, and therefore subject to womens frailty. I would thou shouldest -know it husband, and I tell it thee in good earnest; That if I would doe -ill, I could quickely finde a friend at a neede. Gallants there are good -store, who (of my knowledge) love me dearely, and have made me very -large and liberall promises, of Golde, Silver, Jewels, and gay Garments, -if I would extend them the least favour. But my heart will not -suffer me, I never was the daughter of such a mother, as had so much as -a thought of such matters: no, I thanke our blessed Ladie, and S. <i>Friswid</i> -for it: and yet thou returnest home againe, when thou shouldst be at -Worke.</p> - -<p><i>Lazaro</i>, who stoode all this while like a well-beleeving Logger-head, -demurely thus answered. Alas good Wife! I pray you bee not so angry, -I never had so much as an ill thought of you, but know wel enough -what you are, and have made good proofe thereof this morning. Understand -therefore patiently (sweet Wife) that I went forth to my work -as dayly I use to do, little dreaming (as I thinke you doe not) that it had -bene Holy-day. Wife, this is the Feast day of Saint <i>Galeone</i>; whereon -we may in no wise worke, and this is the reason of my so soone returning. -Neverthelesse (deare Wife) I was not carelesse of our Houshold -provision: For, though we worke not, yet we must have foode, which I -have provided for more then a moneth. Wife, I remembred the brewing -Fat, whereof wee have little or no use at all, but rather it is a trouble -to the house, then otherwise. I met with an honest Friend, who stayeth -without at the doore, to him I have sold the Fat for ten <i>Gigliatoes</i>, and he -tarrieth to take it away with him.</p> - -<p>How Husband? replied <i>Peronella</i>, Why now I am worse offended -then before. Thou that art a man, walkest every where, and shouldst be -experienced in worldly affaires: wouldst thou bee so simple, as to sell -such a brewing Fat for ten <i>Gigliatoes</i>? Why, I that am a poore ignorant -woman, a house-Dove, sildome going out of my doore: have sold it already -for twelve <i>Gigliatoes</i>, to a very honest man, who (even a little before -thy comming home) came to me, we agreed on the bargaine, and he -is now underneath the Fat, to see whether it be sound or no. When credulous -<i>Lazaro</i> heard this, he was better contented then ever, and went -to him that taried at the doore, saying. Good man, you may goe your -way, for, whereas you offered me but ten <i>Gigliatoes</i> for the Fat, my loving -wife hath sold it for twelve, and I must maintaine what shee hath -done: so the man departed, and the variance ended.</p> - -<p><i>Peronella</i> then saide to her husband. Seeing thou art come home so -luckily, helpe me to lift up the Fat, that the man may come foorth, and -then you two end the bargaine together. <i>Striguario</i>, who though he was -mewed up under the tubbe, had his eares open enough; and hearing the -witty excuse of <i>Peronella</i>, tooke himselfe free from future feare: and being -come from under the Fat, pretending also, as if he had herd nothing, -nor saw <i>Lazaro</i>, looking round about him, said. Where is this good woman? -<i>Lazaro</i> stepping forth boldly like a man, replyed: Heere am I, -what wold you have Sir? Thou? quoth <i>Striguario</i>, what art thou? I ask -for the good wife, with whom I made my match for the Fat. Honest -Gentleman (answered <i>Lazaro</i>) I am that honest Womans Husband, -for lacke of a better, and I will maintaine whatsoever my Wife hath -done.</p> - -<p>I crie you mercie Sir, replyed <i>Striguario</i>, I bargained with your Wife -for this brewing Fat, which I finde to be whole and sound: only it is uncleane -within, hard crusted with some dry soile upon it, which I know -not well how to get off, if you will be the meanes of making it cleane, I -have the money heere ready for it. For that Sir (quoth <i>Peronella</i>) take -you no care, although no match at all had beene made, what serves my -Husband for, but to make it cleane? Yes forsooth Sir, answered sily <i>Lazaro</i>, -you shall have it neate and cleane before you pay the mony.</p> - -<p>So, stripping himselfe into his shirt, lighting a Candle, and taking -tooles fit for the purpose; the Fat was whelmed over him, and he being -within it, wrought untill he sweated, with scraping and scrubbing. So -that these poore Lovers, what they could not accomplish as they wold, -necessity enforced them to performe as they might. And <i>Peronella</i>, looking -in at the vent-hole, where the Liquor runneth forth for the meshing; -seemed to instruct her husband in the businesse, as espying those -parts where the Fat was fowlest, saying: There, there <i>Lazaro</i>, tickle it -there, the Gentleman payes well for it, and is worthy to have it: but see -thou do thy selfe no harme good Husband. I warrant thee Wife, answered -<i>Lazaro</i>, hurt not your selfe with leaning your stomacke on the -Fat, and leave the cleansing of it to me. To be breefe, the Brewing Fat -was neatly cleansed, <i>Peronella</i> and <i>Striguario</i> both well pleased, the money -paide, and honest meaning <i>Lazaro</i> not discontented.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Friar_Reynard_falling_in_love_with_a_Gentlewoman_Wife_to_a_man_of_good" id="Friar_Reynard_falling_in_love_with_a_Gentlewoman_Wife_to_a_man_of_good"><i>Friar</i> Reynard, <i>falling in love with a Gentlewoman, Wife to a man of good -account; found the meanes to become her Gossip. Afterward, he being conferring -closely with her in her Chamber, and her Husband coming sodainly -thither: she made him beleeve, that he came thither for no other end; but -to cure his God-sonne by a charme, of a dangerous disease which he had by -Wormes.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Third Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Serving as a friendly advertisement to married women, that Monks, Friars, -and Priests may be none of their Gossips, in regard of unavoydable perilles -ensuing thereby.</i></h4> - -<p><i>Philostratus</i> told not this Tale so covertly, concerning <i>Lazaros</i> -simplicity, and <i>Peronellaes</i> witty policy; but the Ladies found -a knot in the rush, and laughed not a little, at his queint manner -of discoursing it. But upon the conclusion, the King looking upon -Madam <i>Eliza</i>, willed her to succeede next, which as willingly she granted, -and thus began. Pleasant Ladies, the charme or conjuration wherewith -Madam <i>Æmillia</i> laid her night-walking Spirit, maketh me remember -a Novell of another enchantment; which although it carrieth not -commendation equall to the other, yet I intend to report it, because it -suteth with our present purpose, and I cannot sodainly be furnisht with -another, answerable thereto in nature.</p> - -<p>You are to understand then, that there lived in <i>Siena</i>, a proper young -man, of good birth and well friended, being named <i>Reynard</i>. Earnestly -he affected his neere dwelling neighbour, a beautifull Gentlewoman, -and wife to a man of good esteeme: of whom hee grew halfe perswaded, -that if he could (without suspition) compasse private conference -with her, he should reach the height of his amorous desires. Yet seeing -no likely meanes wherewith to further his hope, and shee being great -with childe, he resolved to become a Godfather to the childe, at such -time as it should be brought to Christening. And being inwardly acquainted -with her Husband, who was named <i>Credulano</i>; such familiar -entercourses passed betweene them, both of <i>Reynards</i> kinde offer, and -<i>Credulanoes</i> as courteous acceptance, that hee was set downe for a Gossippe.</p> - -<p><i>Reynard</i> being thus embraced for Madam <i>Agnesiaes</i> Gossip, and this -proving the onely colourable meanes, for his safer permission of speech -with her, to let her now understand by word of mouth, what long before -she collected by his lookes and behaviour: it fell out no way beneficiall -to him, albeit <i>Agnesia</i> seemed not nice or scrupulous in hearing, -yet she had a more precious care of her honour. It came to passe, within -a while after (whether by seeing his labour vainly spent, or some other -urgent occasion moving him thereto, I know not) <i>Reynard</i> would needs -enter into Religion, and whatsoever strictnesse or austeritie hee found -to be in that kinde of life, yet he determined to persevere therein, whether -it were for his good or ill. And although within a short space, after -he was thus become a Religious Monke, hee seemed to forget the -former love which he bare to his gossip <i>Agnesia</i>, and divers other enormous -vanities beside: yet let me tell you, successe of time tutord him -in them againe; and, without any respect to his poore holy habite, but -rather in contempt thereof (as it were) he tooke an especiall delight, in -wearing garments of much richer esteeme, yet favoured by the same -Monasticall profession, appearing (in all respects) like a Court-Minion -or Favourite, of a sprightly and Poeticall disposition, for composing -Verses, Sonnets, and Canzons, singing them to sundry excellent instruments, -and yet not greatly curious of his company, so they were some -of the best, and Madame <i>Agnesia</i> one, his former Gossip.</p> - -<p>But why doe I trouble my selfe, in talking thus of our so lately converted -Friar, holy Father <i>Reynard</i>, when they of longer standing, and -reputed meerely for Saints in life, are rather much more vile then hee? -Such is the wretched condition of this world, that they shame not (fat, -soggie, and nastie Abbey-lubbers) to shew how full fedde they live in -their Cloysters, with cherry cheekes, and smooth shining lookes, gay -and gaudy garments, far from the least expression of humility, not walking -in the streets like Doves: but high-crested like Cockes, with well -cramd gorges. Nay, which is worse, if you did but see their Chambers -furnished with Gally-pots of Electuaries, precious Unguents, Apothecary -Boxes, filled with various Confections, Conserves, excellent Perfumes, -and other goodly Glasses of artificiall Oyles and Waters: beside -Rundlets and small Barrels full of Greeke Wine, <i>Muscatella, Lachrime -Christi,</i> and other such like most precious Wines, so that (to such as see -them) they seeme not to bee Chambers of Religious men; but rather -Apothecaries Shoppes, or appertaining to Druggists, Grocers, or Perfumers.</p> - -<p>It is no disgrace to them to be Gowty; because when other men know -it not, they alledge, that strict fasting, feeding on grosse meates (though -never so little,) continuall studying, and such like restraints from the bodies -freer exercise, maketh them subject to many infirmities. And yet, -when any one of them chanceth to fall sicke, the Physitian must minister -no such counsell to them, as Chastity, Abstinence from voluptuous -meats, Discipline of the body, or any of those matters appertaining to a -modest religious life. For, concerning the plaine, vulgar, and Plebeian -people, these holy Fathers are perswaded, that they know nothing really -belonging to a sanctimonious life; as long watching, praying, discipline -and fasting, which (in themselves) are not able, to make men look -leane, wretched, and pale. Because Saint <i>Dominicke</i>, Saint <i>Fraunces</i>, -and divers other holy Saints beside, observed the selfesame religious orders -and constitutions, as now their carefull successors do. Moreover, -in example of those fore-named Saints, who went wel cloathed, though -they had not three Garments for one, nor made of the finest Woollen -excellent cloath: but rather of the very coarsest of all other, and of the -common ordinary colour, to expell cold onely, but not to appear brave -or gallant, deceyving thereby infinite simple credulous soules, whose -purses (neverthelesse) are their best pay-masters.</p> - -<p>But leave we this, and returne wee backe to vertuous Fryar <i>Reynard</i>, -who falling againe to his former appetites; became an often visitant of -his Gossip <i>Agnesia</i>, and now hee had learned such a blushlesse kinde of -boldnesse; that he durst be more instant with her (concerning his privie -sute) then ever formerly he had bin, yea, even to solicite the enjoying of -his immodest desires. The good Gentlewoman, seeing her selfe so importunately -pursued, and Fryar <i>Reynard</i> appearing now (perhappes) of -sweeter and more delicate complexion, then at his entrance into Religion: -at a set time of his secret communing with her; she answered him in -as apt tearmes, as they use to do, who are not greatly squeamish, in granting -matters demanded of them.</p> - -<p>Why how now Friar <i>Reynard</i>? quoth shee, Doe God-fathers use to -move such questions? Whereto the Friar thus replyed. Madam, when -I have laide off this holy habite (which is a matter very easie for mee to -do) I shall seeme in your eye, in all respects made like another man, quite -from the course of any Religious life. <i>Agnesia</i>, biting the lip with a pretty -smile, said, O my faire Starres! You will never bee so unfriendly to -me. What? You being my Gossip, would you have me consent unto -such a sinne? Our blessed Lady shield mee, for my ghostly Father hath -often told me, that it is utterly unpardonable: but if it were, I feare too -much confiding on mine owne strength. Gossip, Gossip, answered the -Friar, you speake like a Foole, and feare (in this case) is wholly frivolous, -especially, when the motions mooved by such an one as my selfe, -who (upon repentance) can grant you pardon and indulgence presently. -But I pray you let mee aske you one question, Who is the neerest -Kinsman to your Son; either I, that stood at the Font for his Baptisme, -or your Husband that begot him? The Lady made answere, that it was -her Husband. You say very true Gossip, replyed the Friar, and yet -notwithstanding, doth not your Husband (both at boord and bed) enjoy -the sweet benefit of your company? Yes, said the Lady, why shold -he not? Then Lady (quoth <i>Reynard</i>) I, who am not so neere a Kinsman -to your Sonne, as your Husband is, why may ye not afford mee the like -favour, as you do him? <i>Agnesia</i>, who was no Logitian, and therefore -could not stand on any curious answer, especially being so cuningly moved; -beleeved, or rather made shew of beleeving, that the Godfather said -nothing but truth, and thus answered. What woman is she (Gossip) that -knoweth how to answer your strange speeches? And, how it came to -passe, I know not, but such an agreement passed betweene them, that, for -once onely (so it might not infrindge the league of Gossip-ship, but that -title to countenance their further intent) such a favour should be affoorded, -so it might stand cleare from suspition.</p> - -<p>An especiall time being appointed, when this amorous Combate -should be fought in loves field, Friar <i>Reynard</i> came to his Gossips house, -where none being present to hinder his purpose, but onely the Nursse -which attended on the child, who was an indifferent faire & proper woman: -his holy brother that came thither in his company (because Friars -were not allowed to walke alone) was sent aside with her into the Pigeon -loft, to enstruct her in a new kinde of <i>Pater noster</i>, lately devised in -their holy Convent. In the meane while, as Friar <i>Reynard</i> and <i>Agnesia</i> -were entring into hir chamber, she leading her little son by the hand, and -making fast the doore for their better safety: the Friar laide by his holie -habit, Cowle, Hood, Booke, and Beads, to bee (in all respects) as other -men were. No sooner were they thus entred the Chamber, but her husband -<i>Credulano</i>, being come into the house, and unseen of any, staid not -till he was at the Chamber doore, where hee knockt, and called for his -Wife.</p> - -<p>She hearing his voice: Alas Gossip (quoth she) what shall I do? My -Husband knocketh at the doore, and now he will perceive the occasion -of our so familiar acquaintance. <i>Reynard</i> being stript into his Trusse and -straite Strouses, began to tremble and quake exceedingly. I heare your -Husbands tongue Gossip, said he, and seeing no harme as yet hath bin -done, if I had but my garments on againe; wee would have one excuse -or other to serve the turne, but till then you may not open the doore. -As womens wits are sildome gadding abroad, when any necessitie concerneth -them at home: even so <i>Agnesia</i>, being sodainly provided of an -invention, both how to speake and carry her selfe in this extreamitie, -saide to the Friar. Get on your garments quickely, and when you are -cloathed, take your little God-son in your armes, and listning wel what -I shall say, shape your answeres according to my words, and then refer -the matter to me. <i>Credulano</i> had scarsely ended his knocking, but <i>Agnesia</i> -stepping to the doore said: Husband, I come to you. So she opened -the doore, and (going forth to him) with a chearefull countenance thus -spake. Beleeve me Husband, you could not have come in a more happy -time, for our young Son was sodainly extreamly sicke, and (as good -Fortune would have it) our loving Gossip <i>Reynard</i> chanced to come in; -and questionlesse, but by his good prayers and other religious paynes, -we had utterly lost our childe, for he had no life left in him.</p> - -<p><i>Credulano</i>, being as credulous as his name imported, seemed ready to -swoune with sodaine conceit: Alas good wife (quoth he) how hapned -this? Sit downe sweet Husband said she, and I wil tell you al. Our child -was sodainly taken with a swouning, wherein I being unskilful, did verily -suppose him to be dead, not knowing what to doe, or say. By good -hap, our Gossip <i>Reynard</i> came in, and taking the childe up in his armes, -said to me. Gossip, this is nothing else but Wormes in the bellie of the -childe, which ascending to the heart, must needs kill the child, without -all question to the contrary. But be of good comfort Gossip, and feare -not, for I can charme them in such sort, that they shall all die, and before -I depart hence, you shall see your Son as healthfull as ever. And -because the manner of this charm is of such nature, that it required prayer -and exorcising in two places at once: Nurse went up with his Holye -Brother into our Pigeon loft, to exercise their devotion there, while we -did the like heere. For none but the mother of the childe must bee present -at such a mystery, nor any enter to hinder the operation of the -charme; which was the reason of making fast the Chamber doore. You -shall see Husband anon the Childe, which is indifferently recovered in -his armes, and if Nurse and his holy Brother were returned from theyr -meditations; he saith, that the charme would then be fully effected: for -the child beginneth to looke chearefull and merry.</p> - -<p>So deerely did <i>Credulano</i> love the childe, that hee verily beleeved, -what his Wife had saide, never misdoubting any other treachery: and, -lifting up his eyes, with a vehement sigh, said. Wife, may not I goe in -and take the child into my armes? Oh no, not yet good husband (quoth -she) in any case, least you should overthrow all that is done. Stay but -a little while, I will go in againe, and if all bee well, then will I call you. -In went <i>Agnesia</i> againe, making the doore fast after her, the Fryar having -heard all the passed speeches, by this time he was fitted with his habite, -and taking the childe in his armes, he said to <i>Agnesia</i>. Gossip methought -I heard your Husbands voice, is hee at your Chamber doore? -Yes Gossip <i>Reynard</i> (quoth <i>Credulano</i> without, while <i>Agnesia</i> opened -the doore, and admitted him entrance) indeede it is I. Come in Sir, I -pray you, replyed the Friar, and heere receive your childe of mee, who -was in great danger, of your ever seeing him any more alive. But you -must take order, to make an Image of waxe, agreeing with the stature of -the childe, to be placed on the Altar before the Image of S. <i>Frances</i>, by -whose merites the childe is thus restored to health.</p> - -<p>The childe, beholding his Father, made signes of comming to him, -rejoycing merrily, as young infants use to do; and <i>Credulano</i> clasping him -in his armes, wept with conceite of joy, kissing him infinitely, and heartily -thanking his Gossip <i>Reynard</i>, for the recovery of his God-son. The -Friars brotherly Companion, who had given sufficient enstructions to -the Nurse, and a small purse full of Sisters white thred, which a Nunne -(after shrift) had bestowed on him, upon the husbands admittance into -the Chamber (which they easily heard) came in also to them, and seeing -all in very good tearmes, they holpe to make a joyfull conclusion, -the Brother saying to Friar Reynard: Brother, I have finished all those -foure Jaculatory prayers, which you commanded me.</p> - -<p>Brother, answered <i>Reynard</i>, you have a better breath then I, and your -successe hath prooved happier then mine, for before the arrivall of my -Gossip <i>Credulano</i>, I could accomplish but two Jaculatory prayers onely. -But it appeareth, that we have both prevailed in our devout desires, -because the childe is perfectly cured. <i>Credulano</i> calling for Wine and -good cheare, feasted both the Friars very jocondly, and then conducting -them forth of his house, without any further intermission, caused -the childs Image of waxe to be made, and sent it to be placed on the Altar -of Saint <i>Frances</i>, among many other the like oblations.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Tofano_in_the_night_season_did_locke_his_wife_out_of_his_house_and_shee_not" id="Tofano_in_the_night_season_did_locke_his_wife_out_of_his_house_and_shee_not">Tofano <i>in the night season, did locke his wife out of his house, and shee not -prevailing to get entrance againe, by all the entreaties she could possiblie -use: made him beleeve that she had throwne her selfe into a Well, by casting -a great stone into the same Well</i>. Tofano <i>hearing the fall of the stone -into the Well, and being perswaded that it was his Wife indeed; came forth -of his house, and ran to the Welles side. In the meane while, his wife gotte -into the house, made fast the doore against her Husband, and gave him -many reproachfull speeches.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Fourth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is manifested, that the malice and subtilty of a Woman, surpasseth -all the Art or Wit in man.</i></h4> - - -<p>So soone as the King perceyved, that the Novell reported by -Madame <i>Eliza</i> was finished: hee turned himselfe to Madame -<i>Lauretta</i>, and told her it was his pleasure, that she should now -begin the next, whereto she yeelded in this manner. O Love: What, -and how many are thy prevailing forces? How straunge are thy foresights? -And how admirable thine attempts? Where is, or ever was the -Philosopher or Artist, that could enstruct the wiles, escapes, preventions, -and demonstrations, which sodainly thou teachest such, as are thy -apt and understanding Schollers indeede? Certaine it is, that the documents -and eruditions of all other whatsoever, are weak, or of no worth, -in respect of thine: as hath notably appeared, by the remonstrances already -past, and whereto (worthy Ladies) I wil adde another of a simple -woman, who taught her husband such a lesson, as shee never learned of -any, but Love himselfe.</p> - -<p>There dwelt sometime in <i>Arezzo</i> (which is a faire Village of <i>Tuscany</i>) -a rich man, named <i>Tofano</i>, who enjoyed in marriage a young beautifull -woman, called <i>Cheta</i>: of whom (without any occasion given, or reason -knowne to himselfe) he became exceeding jealous. Which his wife perceyving, -she grew much offended thereat, and tooke it in great scorne, -that she should be servile to so vile and slavish a condition. Oftentimes, -she demanded of him, from whence this jealousie in him received originall, -he having never seene or heard of any; he could make her no other -answer, but what his owne bad humour suggested, and drove him every -day (almost) to deaths doore, by feare of that which no way needed. -But, whether as a just scourge for this his grosse folly, or a secret decree, -ordained to him by Fortune and the Fates, I am not able to distinguish: -It came so to passe, that a young Gallant made meanes to enjoy her favour, -and she was so discreetly wise in judging of his worthinesse; that -affection passed so farre mutually betweene them, as nothing wanted, -but effects to answere words, suited with time and place convenient, for -which order was taken as best they might, yet to stand free from all suspition.</p> - -<p>Among many other evill conditions, very frequent and familiar in -her husband <i>Tofano</i>; he tooke a great delight in drinking, which not only -he held to be a commendable quality, but was alwaies so often solicited -thereto: that <i>Cheta</i> her selfe began to like and allow it in him, feeding -his humor so effectually, with quaffing and carowsing, that (at any -time when she listed) she could make him bowsie beyonde all measure: -and leaving him sleeping in this drunkennesse, would alwayes get her -selfe to bed. By helpe heereof, she compassed the first familiarity with -her friend, yea, divers times after, as occasion served: and so confidently -did she builde on her husbands drunkennesse, that not onely shee adventured -to bring her friend home into her owne house; but also would -as often go to his, which was some-what neere at hand, and abide with -him there, the most part of the night season.</p> - -<p>While <i>Cheta</i> thus continued on these amorous courses, it fortuned, -that her slye suspitious husband, beganne to perceive, that though shee -drunke very much with him, yea, untill he was quite spent and gone: yet -she remained fresh and sober still, and thereby imagined strange matters, -that he being fast asleepe, his wife then tooke advantage of his drowsinesse, -and might —— and so forth. Beeing desirous to make experience -of this his distrust, hee returned home at night (not having drunke -any thing all the whole day) dissembling both by his words and behaviour, -as if he were notoriously drunke indeede. Which his Wife constantly -beleeving, saide to her selfe: That hee had now more neede of -sleepe, then drinke; getting him immediately into his warme bed; and -then going downe the staires againe, softly went out of doores unto her -Friends house, as formerly she had used to do, and there shee remained -untill midnight.</p> - -<p><i>Tofano</i> perceiving that his Wife came not to bed, and imagining to -have heard his doore both open and shut: arose out of his bed, and calling -his Wife <i>Cheta</i> divers times, without any answere returned: hee -went downe the staires, and finding the doore but closed too, made it -fast and sure on the inside, and then got him up to the window, to watch -the returning home of his wife, from whence shee came, and then to -make her conditions apparantly knowne. So long there he stayed, till at -the last she returned indeede, and finding the doore so surely shut, shee -was exceeding sorrowful, essaying how she might get it open by strength: -which when <i>Tofano</i> had long suffered her in vaine to approve, thus hee -spake to her. <i>Cheta, Cheta,</i> all thy labour is meerely lost, because heere is -no entrance allowed for thee; therefore return to the place from whence -thou camest, that all thy friends may judge of thy behaviour, and know -what a night-walker thou art become.</p> - -<p>The woman hearing this unpleasing language, began to use all humble -entreaties, desiring him (for charities sake) to open the doore and admit -her entrance, because she had not bin in any such place, as his jelous -suspition might suggest to him: but onely to visit a weak & sickly neighbour, -the nights being long, she not (as yet) capeable of sleepe, nor willing -to sit alone in the house. But all her perswasions served to no purpose, he -was so setled in his owne opinion, that all the Town should now -see her nightly gading, which before was not so much as suspected. <i>Cheta</i> -seeing, that faire meanes would not prevaile, shee entred into roughe -speeches and threatnings, saying: If thou wilt not open the doore and let -me come in, I will so shame thee, as never base man was. As how I pray -thee? answered <i>Tofano</i>, what canst thou do to me?</p> - -<p>The woman, whom love had inspired with sprightly counsell, ingeniously -enstructing her what to do in this distresse, stearnly thus replyed. -Before I will suffer any such shame as thou intended towards mee, I -will drowne my selfe heere in this Well before our doore, where being -found dead, and thy villanous jealousie so apparantly knowne, beside -thy more then beastly drunkennesse: all the neighbours will constantly -beleeve, that thou didst first strangle me in the house, and afterwardes -threw me into this Well. So either thou must flie upon the supposed offence, -or lose all thy goodes by banishment, or (which is much more fitting -for thee) have thy head smitten off as a wilfull murtherer of thy wife; -for all will judge it to be no otherwise. All which wordes, mooved not -<i>Tofano</i> a jot from his obstinat determination: but he still persisting therein, -thus she spake. I neither can nor will longer endure this base Villanie -of thine: to the mercy of heaven I commit my soul, and stand there my -wheele, a witnesse against so hard-hearted a murtherer.</p> - -<p>No sooner had she thus spoke, but the night being so extreamly dark, -as they could not discerne one another; Cheta went to the Well, where -finding a verie great stone, which lay loose upon the brim of the Well, -even as if it had beene layde there on purpose, shee cried out aloud, saying. -Forgive me faire heavens, and so threw the stone downe into the -Well. The night being very still & silent, the fal of the great stone made -such a dreadfull noise in the Well; that he hearing it at the Windowe, -thought verily she had drowned her selfe indeede. Whereupon, running -downe hastily, and taking a Bucket fastened to a strong Cord: he -left the doore wide open, intending speedily to helpe her. But she standing -close at the doores entrance, before he could get to the Wels side; -she was within the house, softly made the doore fast on the inside, and -then went up to the Window, where <i>Tofano</i> before had stood talking -to her.</p> - -<p>While he was thus dragging with his Bucket in the Well, crying and -calling <i>Cheta</i>, take hold good <i>Cheta</i>, and save thy life: she stood laughing -in the Window, saying. Water should bee put into Wine before -a man drinkes it, and not when he hath drunke too much already. <i>Tofano</i> -hearing his Wife thus to flout him out of his Window, went back -to the doore, and finding it made fast against him: he willed hir to grant -him entrance. But she, forgetting all gentle Language, which formerly -she had used to him: in meere mockery and derision (yet intermixed -with some sighes and teares, which women are saide to have at command) -out aloud (because the Neighbours should heare her) thus she -replyed.</p> - -<p>Beastly drunken Knave as thou art, this night thou shalt not come -within these doores, I am no longer able to endure thy base behaviour, -it is more then high time, that thy course of life should bee publiquely -known, and at what drunken houres thou returnest home to thy house. -<i>Tofano</i>, being a man of very impatient Nature, was as bitter unto her in -words on the other side, which the Neighbours about them (both men -and Women) hearing; looked forth of their Windowes, and demaunding -a reason for this their disquietnesse, <i>Cheta</i> (seeming as if she wept) -sayde.</p> - -<p>Alas my good Neighbours, you see at what unfitting houres, this -bad man comes home to his house, after hee hath lyen in a Taverne all -day drunke, sleeping and snorting like a Swine. You are my honest witnesses, -how long I have suffered this beastlinesse in him, yet neyther -your good counsell, nor my too often loving admonitions, can worke -that good which wee have expected. Wherefore, to try if shame can -procure any amendment, I have shut him out of doores, until his drunken -fit be over-past, and so he shall stand to coole his feet.</p> - -<p><i>Tofano</i> (but in very uncivill manner) told her being abroad that night, -and how she had used him: But the Neighbours seeing her to be within -the house, and beleeving her, rather then him, in regard of his too -wellknowne ill qualities; very sharpely reproved him, gave him grosse -speeches, pittying that any honest Woman should be so continually abused. -Now my good Neighbours (quoth she) you see what manner -of man he is. What would you thinke of me, if I should walk the streets -thus in the night time, or be so late out of mine owne house, as this dayly -Drunkard is? I was affraid least you would have given credit to his -dissembling speeches, when he told you, that I was at the Welles side, -and threw something into the Well: but that I know your better opinion -of me, and how sildome I am to be seene out of doores, although he -would induce your sharper judgement of me, and lay that shame upon -me, wherein he hath sinned himselfe.</p> - -<p>The Neighbours, both men and Women, were all very severely incensed -against <i>Tofano</i>, condemning him for his great fault that night -committed, and avouching his wife to be vertuous and honest. Within -a little while, the noise passing from Neighbour to Neighbour, at the -length it came to the eares of her Kindred, who forthwith resorted thither, -and hearing how sharpely the Neighbours reprehended <i>Tofano</i>: -they tooke him, soundly bastanadoed him, and hardly left any bone of -him unbruised. Afterward, they went into the house, tooke all such -things thence as belonged to hir, taking hir also with them to their dwelling, -and threatning <i>Tofano</i> with further infliction of punishment, both -for his drunkennesse, and causlesse jealousie.</p> - -<p><i>Tofano</i> perceyving how curstly they had handled him, and what crooked -meanes might further be used against him, in regard her Kindred & -Friends were very mightie: thought it much better, patiently to suffer -the wrong alreadie done him, then by obstinate contending, to proceed -further, and fare worse. He became a suter to her Kindred, that al might -be forgotten and forgiven, in recompence whereof; he would not onely -refraine from drunkennesse, but also, never more be jelous of his wife. -This being faithfully promised, and <i>Cheta</i> reconciled to her Husband, -all strife was ended, she enjoyed her friends favour, as occasion served, -but yet with such discretion, as it was not noted. Thus the Coxcombe -foole, was faine to purchase his peace, after a notorious wrong -sustained, and further injuries to bee -offered.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="A_jealous_man_clouded_with_the_habite_of_a_Priest_became_the_Confessour_to" id="A_jealous_man_clouded_with_the_habite_of_a_Priest_became_the_Confessour_to"><i>A jealous man, clouded with the habite of a Priest, became the Confessour to -his owne Wife; who made him beleeve, that she was deepely in love with a -Priest, which came every night, and lay with her. By meanes of which confession, -while her jealous Husband watched the doore of his house; to surprize -the Priest when he came: she that never meant to do amisse, had the -company of a secret Friend, who came over the toppe of the house to visite -her, while her foolish Husband kept the doore.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The fift Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>In just scorne and mockery of such jealous Husbands, that will be so idle headed -upon no occasion. And yet when they have good reason for it, do least -of all suspect any such injury.</i></h4> - - -<p>Madam <i>Lauretta</i> having ended her Novell, and every one commended -the Woman, for fitting <i>Tofano</i> in his kinde; and, as -his jealousie and drunkennesse justly deserved: the King (to -prevent all losse of time) turned to Madame <i>Fiammetta</i>, commaunding -her to follow next: whereuppon, very graciously, shee beganne in this -manner.</p> - -<p>Noble Ladies, the precedent Novell delivered by Madame <i>Lauretta</i>, -maketh me willing to speake of another jealous man; as being halfe -perswaded, that whatsoever is done to them by their Wives, and especially -upon no occasion given, they doe no more then well becommeth -them. And if those grave heads, which were the first instituters of lawes, -had diligently observed all things; I am of the minde, that they would -have ordained no other penalty for Women, then they appointed against -such, as (in their owne defence) do offend any other. For jealous -husbands, are meere insidiators of their Wives lives, and most diligent -pursuers of their deaths, being lockt up in their houses all the Weeke -long, imployed in nothing but domesticke drudging affayres: which -makes them desirous of high Festivall dayes, to receive some little comfort -abroad, by an honest recreation or pastime, as Husbandmen in the -fields, Artizans in our Citie, or Governours in our judiciall Courtes; -yea, or as our Lord himselfe, who rested the seaventh day from all his -travailes. In like manner, it is so willed and ordained by the Lawes, as -well divine as humane, which have regard to the glory of God, and for -the common good of every one; making distinction betweene those -dayes appointed for labour, and the other determined for rest. Whereto -jealous persons (in no case) will give consent, but all those dayes -(which for other women are pleasing and delightfull) unto such, over -whom they command, are most irksome, sadde and sorrowful, because -then they are lockt up, and very strictly restrained. And if question were -urged, how many good women do live and consume away in this torturing -hell of affliction: I can make no other answere, but such as feele it, -are best able to discover it. Wherefore to conclude the proheme to my -present purpose, let none be over rash in condemning women: for what -they do to their husbands, being jealous without occasion; but rather -commend their wit and providence.</p> - -<p>Somtime (faire Ladies) there lived in <i>Arimino</i>, a Merchant, very rich -in wealth and worldly possessions, who having a beautifull Gentlewoman -to his wife, he became extreamly jelous of her. And he had no other -reason for this foolish conceit; but, like as he loved hir dearly, and -found her to be very absolutely faire: even so he imagined, that although -she devised by her best meanes to give him content; yet others would -grow enamored of her, because she appeared so amiable to al. In which -respect, time might tutor her to affect some other beside himselfe: the -onely common argument of every bad minded man, being weake and -shallow in his owne understanding. This jelous humor increasing in him -more and more, he kept her in such narrow restraint: that many persons -condemned to death, have enjoyed larger libertie in their imprisonment. -For, she might not bee present at Feasts, Weddings, nor goe to -Church, or so much as to be seen at her doore: Nay, she durst not stand -in her Window, nor looke out of her house, for any occasion whatsoever. -By means whereof, life seemed most tedious and offensive to her, -and she supported it the more impatiently, because shee knew her selfe -not any way faulty.</p> - -<p>Seeing her husband still persist in this shamefull course towards her; -she studied, how she might best comfort her selfe in this desolate case: -by devising some one meane or other (if any at all were to bee founde) -whereby he might be requited in his kind, and wear that badge of shame -whereof he was now but onely affraid. And because she could not gain -so small a permission, as to be seene at any window, where (happily) she -might have observed some one passing by in the street, discerning a little -parcell of her love: she remembred at length, that, in the next house to -her Husbands (they both joyning close together) there dwelt a comely -young proper Gentleman, whose perfections carried correspondencie -with her desires. She also considered with her selfe, that if there were any -partition wall; such a chinke or cranny might easily be made therein, -by which (at one time or other) she should gaine a sight of the young -Gentleman, and finde an houre so fitting, as to conferre with him, and -bestow her lovely favour on him, if he pleased to accept it. If successe (in -this case) proved answerable to her hope, then thus she resolved to outrun -the rest of her wearisome dayes, except the frensie of jealousie did finish -her husbands loathed life before.</p> - -<p>Walking from one roome to another, thorough every part of the -house; and no wall escaping without diligent surveying; on a day, when -her Husband was absent from home, she espyed in a corner very secret, -an indifferent cleft in the Wall, which though it yeelded no full view on -the other side, yet she plainly perceived it to be an handsome Chamber, -and grew more then halfe perswaded, that either it might be the Chamber -of <i>Philippo</i> (for so was the neighbouring young Gentleman named) or -else a passage guiding thereto. A Chambermaid of hers, who compassioned -her case very much; made such observance, by her Mistresses direction, -that she found it to be <i>Philippoes</i> bed Chamber, and where alwayes -he used to lodge alone. By often visiting this rift or chinke in the -Wall, especially when the Gentleman was there; and by throwing in -little stones, flowers, and such like things, which fell still in his way as he -walked: so farre she prevailed, that he stepping to the chinke, to know -from whence they came; shee called softly to him, who knowing her -voyce, there they had such private conference together, as was not any -way displeasing to either. So that the chinke being made a little larger; -yet so, as it could not be easily discerned: their mouthes might meete -with kisses together, and their hands folded each in other; but nothing -else to be performed, for continuall feare of her jelous husband.</p> - -<p>Now the Feast of Christmasse drawing neere, the Gentlewoman said -to her Husband; that, if it stood with his liking: she would do such duty -as fitted with so solemne a time, by going earely in a morning unto -Church, there to be confessed, and receive her Saviour, as other Christians -did. How now? replied the jealous Asse, what sinnes have you committed, -that should neede confession? How Husband? quoth she, what -do you thinke me to be a Saint? Who knoweth not, I pray you, that I -am as subject to sinne, as any other Woman living in the world? But -my sins are not to be revealed to you, because you are no Priest. These -words enflamed his jealousie more violently then before, and needes -must he know what sinnes she had committed, & having resolved what -to do in this case, made her answer: That hee was contented with her -motion, alwaies provided, that she went to no other Church, then unto -their owne Chappel, betimes in a morning; and their own Chaplaine to -confesse her, or some other Priest by him appointed, but not any other: -and then she to returne home presently againe. She being a woman of -acute apprehension, presently collected his whole intention: but seeming -to take no knowledge thereof, replyed, that she would not swerve -from his direction.</p> - -<p>When the appointed day was come, she arose very earely, and being -prepared answerable to her owne liking, to the Chappell shee went as -her Husband had appointed, where her jealous Husband (being much -earlier risen then she) attended for her comming: having so ordred the -matter with his Chaplaine, that he was cloathed in his Cowle, with a -large Hood hanging over his eyes, that she should not know him, and -so he went and sate downe in the Confessors place. Shee being entred -into the Chappell, and calling for the Priest to heare her confession, he -made her answer: that he could not intend it, but would bring her to -another holy Brother, who was at better leysure then hee. So to her -Husband he brought her, that seemed (in all respects) like the Confessor -himselfe: save onely his Hood was not so closely veyled, but shee -knew his beard, and said to her selfe. What a mad world is this, when -jealousie can metamorphose an ordinary man into a Priest? But, let me -alone with him, I meane to fit him with that which he lookes for.</p> - -<p>So, appearing to have no knowledge at all of him, downe she fell at -his feete, and he had conveyed a few Cherry stones into his mouth, to -trouble his speech from her knowledge; for, in all things els, he thought -himselfe to be sufficiently fitted for her. In the course of her confession, -she declared, that she was married to a most wicked jealous Husband, -and with whom she lead a very hatefull life. Neverthelesse (quoth she) -I am indifferently even with him, for I am beloved of an Holie Fryar, -that every night commeth and lyeth with me. When the jealous Husband -heard this, it stabbed him like a dagger to the heart, and, but for -this greedy covetous desire to know more; he would faine have broke -off confession, and got him gone. But, perceiving that it was his wisest -course, he questioned further with his wife, saying: Why good Woman, -doth not your husband lodge with you? Yes Sir, quoth she. How -is it possible then (replyed the Husband) that the Friar can lodge there -with you too?</p> - -<p>She, dissembling a farre fetcht sigh, thus answered. Reverend Sir, I -know not what skilfull Art the Fryar useth, but this I am sure, every -doore in our house will flye open to him, so soone as he doth but touch -it. Moreover, he told me, that when he commeth unto my Chamber -doore, he speaketh certaine words to himselfe, which immediately casteth -my Husband into a dead sleepe, and, understanding him to bee -thus sleepily entranced: he openeth the doore, entreth in, lieth downe -by me, and this every night he faileth not to do. The jealous Coxcomb -angerly scratching his head, and wishing his wife halfe hangd, said: Mistresse, -this is very badly done, for you should keepe your selfe from all -men, but your husband onely. That shall I never doe, answered shee, -because (indeed) I love him dearely. Why then (quoth our supposed -Confessor) I cannot give you any absolution. I am the more sory Sir, -said she, I came not hither to tell you any leasings, for if I could, yet I -would not, because it is not good to fable with such Saint-like men as -you are. You do therein (quoth hee) the better, and surely I am very -sory for you, because in this dangerous condition, it will bee the utter -losse of your soule: neverthelesse, both for your husbands sake and your -owne, I will take some paines, and use such especiall prayers in your -name, which may (perchance) greatly avayle you. And I purpose now -and then, to send you a Novice or young Clearke of mine, whom you -may safely acquaint with your minde, and signifie to me, by him, whether -they have done you good, or no: and if they prove helpefull, then -will we further proceed therein. Alas Sir, said she, never trouble your -selfe, in sending any body to our house; because, if my Husband should -know it, he is so extreamly jelous, as all the world cannot otherwise -perswade him, but that he commeth thither for no honest intent, and so -I shall live worse then now I do. Fear not that, good woman, quoth he, -but beleeve it certainly, that I will have such a care in this case, as your -Husband shall never speake thereof to you. If you can doe so Sir, sayde -she, proceed I pray you, and I am well contented.</p> - -<p>Confession being thus ended, and she receiving such pennance as hee -appointed, she arose on her feete, and went to heare Masse; while our -jealous Woodcocke (testily puffing and blowing) put off his Religious -habite, returning home presently to his house, beating his braines al the -the way as he went, what meanes he might best devise, for the taking of -his wife and the Friar together, whereby to have them both severely -punished. His wife being come home from the Chappell, discerned by -her Husbands lookes, that he was like to keepe but a sory Christmasse: -yet he used his utmost industry, to conceale what he had done, & which -she knew as well as himself. And he having fully resolved, to watch his -own street doore the next night ensuing in person, in expectation of the -Friars comming, saide to his Wife. I have occasion both to suppe and -lodge out of my house this night, wherefore see you the streete doore -to be surely made fast on the inside, and the doore at the middest of the -staires, as also your own Chamber doore, and then (in Gods name) get -you to bed. Whereto she answered, that all should be done as hee had -appointed.</p> - -<p>Afterward, when she saw convenient time, she went to the chink in -the Wall, and making such a signe as shee was woont to doe: <i>Phillippo</i> -came thither, to whom she declared all her mornings affayres, & what -directions her husband had given her. Furthermore she saide, certaine I -am, that he will not depart from the house, but sit and watch the doore -without, to take one that comes not heere. If therefore, you can climbe -over the house top, and get in at our gutter Window, you and I may -conferre more familiarly together. The young Gentleman being no -dullard, had his lesson quickly taught him; and when night was come, -<i>Geloso</i> (for so must wee tearme the Cocke-braind husband) armes himselfe -at all points, with a browne Bill in his hand, and so he sits to watch -his owne doore. His Wife had made fast all the doores, especially that -on the midst of the stayres, because he should not (by any means) come -to her Chamber; and so, when the houre served, the Gentleman adventured -over the house top, found the gutter Window, and the way conducting -him to her Chamber, where I leave them to their further amorous -conference.</p> - -<p><i>Geloso</i>, more then halfe mad with anger, first, because hee had lost his -supper: next, having sitten almost all the night (which was extreamely -cold and windie) his Armour much molesting him, and yet he could see -no Friar come: when day drew neere, and hee ashamed to watch there -any longer; conveighed himselfe to some more convenient place, where -putting off his Armes, and seeming to come from the place of his Lodging; -about the ninth houre, he found his doore open, entred in, & went -up the stayres, going to dinner with his Wife. Within a while after, according -as <i>Geloso</i> had ordred the businesse, a youth came thither, seeming -to be the Novice sent from the Confessor, and he being admitted -to speake with her, demanded, whether shee were troubled or molested -that night passed, as formerly she had bin, and whether the partie came -or no? The Woman, who knew well enough the Messenger (notwithstanding -all his formall disguise) made answer: That the party expected, -came not: but if hee had come, it was to no purpose; because her -minde was now otherwise altred, albeit she changed not a jote from her -amorous conclusion.</p> - -<p>What should I now further say unto you? <i>Geloso</i> continued his watch -many nights afterward, as hoping to surprize the Friar at his entrance, -and his wife kept still her contented quarter, according as opportunitie -served. In the conclusion, <i>Geloso</i> being no longer able to endure his -bootlesse watching, nor some (more then ordinary) pleasing countenance -in his wife: one day demaunded of her (with a very stearne and -frowning brow) what secret sinnes shee had revealed to the ghostly Father, -upon the day of her shrift? The Woman replyed, that she would -not tell him, neyther was it a matter reasonable, or lawfull for her to -doe. Wicked Woman, answered <i>Geloso</i>: I knowe them all well enough, -even in despight of thee, and every word that thou spakest unto -him. But Huswife, now I must further know, what the Fryar is, with -whom you are so farre in love, and (by meanes of his enchantments) lyeth -with you every night; tell me what and who he is, or else I meane to -cut your throate.</p> - -<p>The Woman immediately made answer, it was not true, that she was -in love with any Fryar. How? quoth <i>Geloso</i>, didst thou not thou confesse so -much to the Ghostly Father, the other day when thou wast at shrift? No -Sir, sayde she, but if I did, I am sure he would not disclose it to you, except -hee suffered you to bee there present, which is an Article beyonde -his dutie. But if it were so, then I confesse freely, that I did say so unto -him. Make an end then quickely Wife (quoth <i>Geloso</i>) and tell mee -who the Friar is. The Woman fell into a hearty laughter, saying. It liketh -me singularly well, when a wise man will suffer himselfe to be ledde -by a simple Woman, even as a Sheepe is to the slaughter, and by the -hornes. If once thou wast wise, that wisedome became utterly lost, when -thou felst into that divellish frensie of jealousie, without knowing anie -reason for it: for, by this beastlike and no manly humor, thou hast eclipsed -no meane part of my glory, and womanly reputation.</p> - -<p>Doest thou imagine Husband, that if I were so blinded in the eyes of -my head, as thou art in them which should informe thine understanding; -I could have found out the Priest, that would needs bee my Confessor? -I knew thee Husband to be the man, and therefore I prepared -my wit accordingly, to fit thee with the foolish imagination which thou -soughtest for, and (indeed) gave it thee. For, if thou hadst beene wise, -as thou makest the world to beleeve by outward apparance, thou wouldest -never have expressed such a basenesse of minde, to borrow the coulour -of a sanctified cloake, thereby to undermine the secrets of thine -honest meaning Wife. Wherefore, to feede thee in thy fond suspition, -I was the more free in my Confession, and tolde thee truely, with -whom, and how heinously I had transgressed. Did I not tell thee, that -I loved a Fryar? And art not thou he whom I love, being a Fryar, and -my ghostly Father, though (to thine owne shame) thou madst thy selfe -so? I said moreover, that there is not any doore in our house, that can -keepe it selfe shut against him, but (when he pleaseth) he comes and lies -with me. Now tell me Husband, What doore in our house hath (at -any time) bin shut against thee, but they are freely thine owne, & grant -thee entrance? Thou art the same Friar that confest me, and lieth every -night with me, and so often as thou sentst thy young Novice or Clearke -to me, as often did I truly returne thee word, when the same Fryar lay -with me. But (by jealousie) thou hast so lost thine understanding, that -thou wilt hardly beleeve all this.</p> - -<p>Alas good man, like an armed Watchman, thou satst at thine owne -doore all a cold Winters night, perswading mee (poore silly credulous -woman) that, upon urgent occasions, thou must needs suppe and lodge -from home. Remember thy selfe therefore better heereafter, become a -true understanding man, as thou shouldst bee, and make not thy selfe a -mocking stocke to them, who knoweth thy jealous qualities, as well as -I do, and be not so watchfull over me, as thou art. For I sweare by my -true honesty, that if I were but as willing, as thou art suspitious: I could -deceive thee, if thou hadst an hundred eyes, as Nature affords thee but -two, and have my pleasures freely, yet thou be not a jot the wiser, or my -credit any way impaired.</p> - -<p>Our wonderfull wise <i>Geloso</i>, who (very advisedly considred) that he -had wholly heard his wives secret confession, and dreamed now on no -other doubt beside, but (perceiving by her speeches) how hee was become -a scorne to al men: without returning other answer, confirmed his -wife to bee both wise and honest, and now when he hadde just occasion -to be jealous indeede, hee utterly forsware it, and counted them all -Coxcombes that would be so misguided. Wherefore, she having thus -wisely wonne the way to her owne desires, and he reduced into a more -humane temper: I hope there was no more neede, of clambring over -houses in the night time like Cats, nor walking in at gutter Windowes, -but all abuses were honestly reformed.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Madame_Isabella_delighting_in_the_company_of_her_affected_Friend_named" id="Madame_Isabella_delighting_in_the_company_of_her_affected_Friend_named"><i>Madame</i> Isabella, <i>delighting in the company of her affected Friend, named</i> -Lionello, <i>and she being likewise beloved by</i> Signior Lambertuccio: <i>At -the same time as shee had entertained</i> Lionello, <i>shee was also visited by</i> -Lambertuccio. <i>Her Husband returning home in the very instant: shee -caused</i> Lambertuccio <i>to run forth with a drawne sword in his hand, and -(by that meanes) made an excuse sufficient for</i> Lionello <i>to her husband.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Sixth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is manifestly discerned, that if Love be driven to a narrow straite in -any of his attempts, yet hee can accomplish his purpose by some other supply.</i></h4> - - -<p>Wondrously pleasing to all the company, was the reported Novell -of Madame <i>Fiammetta</i>, every one applauding the Womans -wisedome, and that she had done no more, then as the -jealous foole her husband justly deserved. But shee having ended, the -King gave order unto Madame <i>Pampinea</i>, that now it was her turne to -speake, whereupon, thus she began. There are no meane store of people -who say (though very false and foolishly,) that Love maketh many to -be out of their wits, and that such as fall in Love, do utterly loose their -understanding. To mee this appeareth a very ydle opinion, as already -hath beene approved by the related discourses, and shall also bee made -manifest by another of mine owne.</p> - -<p>In our City of <i>Florence</i>, famous for some good, though as many bad -qualities, there dwelt (not long since) a Gentlewoman, endued with -choice beauty and admirable perfections, being wife to Signior <i>Beltramo</i>, -a very valiant Knight, and a man of great possessions. As oftentimes -it commeth to passe, that a man cannot alwayes feede on one kind -of bread, but his appetite will be longing after change: so fared it with -this Lady, named <i>Isabella</i>, she being not satisfied with the delights of her -Husband; grew enamoured of a young Gentleman, called <i>Lionello</i>, -compleate of person and commendable qualities, albeit not of the fairest -fortunes, yet his affection every way sutable to hers. And full well you -know (faire Ladies) that where the mindes irreciprocally accorded, no -dilligence wanteth for the desires execution: so this amorous couple, -made many solemne protestations, untill they should bee friended by -opportunity.</p> - -<p>It fortuned in the time of their hopefull expectation a Knight, named -Signior <i>Lambertuccio</i>, fell likewise in love with <i>Isabella</i>: but because -he was somewhat unsightly of person, and utterly unpleasing in the eye, -she grew regardlesse of his frequent solicitings, and would not accept either -tokens, or letters. Which when hee saw, (being very rich and of -great power) hee sought to compasse his intent by a contrary course, -threatning her with scandall and disgrace to her reputation, and with his -associates to bandie against her best friends. She knowing what manner -of man he was, and how able to abuse any with infamous imputations, -wisely returned him hopefull promises, though never meaning to -performe any, but onely (Lady-like) to flatter and foole him therewith.</p> - -<p>Some few miles distant from <i>Florence, Beltramo</i> had a Castle of pleasure, -and there his Lady <i>Isabella</i> used to live all Summer, as all other doe -the like, being so possessed. On a day, <i>Beltramo</i> being ridden from -home, and she having sent for <i>Lionello</i>, to take the advantage of her Husbands -absence; accordingly he went, not doubting but to winne what -he had long expected. Signior <i>Lambertuccio</i> on the other side, meeting -<i>Beltramo</i> riding from his Castle, and <i>Isabella</i> now fit to enjoy his company: -gallops thither with all possible speede, because hee would bee no -longer delayed. Scarcely was <i>Lionello</i> entred the Castle, and receiving -directions by the waiting woman, to her Ladies Chamber: but <i>Lambertuccio</i> -gallopped in at the Gate, which the woman perceiving, -ranne presently and acquainted her Lady with the comming of <i>Lambertuccio</i>.</p> - -<p>Now was shee the onely sorrowfull woman of the world; for nothing -was now to bee feared, but stormes and tempests, because -<i>Lambertuccio</i>, spake no other, then Lightning and Thunder, -and <i>Lionello</i>, (being no lesse affraide then shee) by her perswasion -crept behind the bed, where he hid himselfe very contentedly. By this -time <i>Lambertuccio</i> was dismounted from his Courser, which he fastened -(by the bridle) to a ring in the wall, and then the waiting woman came -to him, to guide him to her Lady and Mistresse: who stood ready at -the staires head, graced him with a very acceptable welcome, yet marvelling -much at his so sodaine comming. Lady (quoth he) I met your -Husband upon the way, which granting mine accesse to see you; I come -to claime your long delayed promise, the time being now so favourable -for it.</p> - -<p>Before he had uttered halfe these words, <i>Beltramo</i>, having forgot an -especiall evidence in his Study, which was the onely occasion of his -journey, came gallopping backe againe into the Castell Court, and seeing -such a goodly Gelding stand fastened there, could not readily imagine -who was the owner thereof. The waiting woman, upon the sight -of her Masters entring into the Court, came to her Lady, saying: My -Master <i>Beltramo</i> is returned backe, newly alighted, and (questionlesse) -comming up the staires. Now was our Lady <i>Isabella</i>, ten times worse -affrighted then before, (having two severall amourous suters in her -house, both hoping, neither speeding, yet her credite lying at the stake -for either) by this unexpected returne of her Husband. Moreover, -there was no possible meanes, for the concealing of Signior <i>Lambertuccio</i>, -because his Gelding stood in the open Court, and therefore made -a shrewde presumption against her, upon the least doubtfull question -urged.</p> - -<p>Neverthelesse, as womens wits are alwayes best upon sudden constraints, -looking forth of her window, and espying her Husband preparing -to come up: she threw her selfe on her day Couch, speaking thus -(earnestly) to <i>Lambertuccio</i>. Sir, if ever you loved mee, and would have -me faithfully to beleeve it, by the instant safety both of your owne honour, -and my life, doe but as I advise you. Forth draw your Sword, -and, with a stearne countenance, threatning death and destruction: run -downe the staires, and when you are beneath, say. I sweare by my best -fortunes, although I misse of thee now heere, yet I will be sure to finde -thee some where else. And if my Husband offer to stay you, or moove -any question to you: make no other answere, but what you formerly -spake in fury. Beside, so soone as you are mounted on horsebacke, -have no further conference with him, upon any occasion -whatsoever; to prevent all suspition in him, of our future intendments.</p> - -<p><i>Lambertuccio</i> sware many terrible oathes, to observe her directions in -every part, and having drawne forth his Sword, grasping it naked in his -hand, and setting worse lookes one the businesse, then ever nature gave -him, because he had spent so much labour in vaine; he failed not in a jot -of the Ladies injunction. <i>Beltramo</i> having commanded his horse to -safe custody, and meeting <i>Lambertuccio</i> discending downe the staires, so -armed, swearing, and most extreamely storming, wondring extraordinarily -as his threatning words, made offer to imbrace him, and understand -the reason of his distemper. <i>Lambertuccio</i> repulsing him rudely, -and setting foote in the stirrup, mounted on his Gelding, and spake nothing -else but this. I sweare by the fairest of all my fortunes, although -I misse of thee heere: yet I will be sure to find thee some where else, and -so he gallopped mainely away.</p> - -<p>When <i>Beltramo</i> was come up into his wives Chamber, hee found her -cast downe upon her Couch, weeping, full of feare, and greatly discomforted; -wherefore he said unto her, What is hee that Signior <i>Lambertuccio</i> -is so extreamely offended withall, and threatneth in such implacable -manner? The Lady arising from her Couch, and going neere to the -Beds, because <i>Lionello</i> might the better heare her; returned her Husband -this answere. Husband (quoth she) never was I so dreadfully affrighted -till now; for, a young Gentleman, of whence, or what he is, I know not, -came running into our Castle for rescue, being pursued by Signior <i>Lambertuccio</i>; -with a weapon ready drawne in his hand. Ascending up our stayres, -by what fortune, I know not, he found my chamber doore standing open, finding -me also working on my Sampler, and in wonderfull feare and trembling.</p> - -<p>Good Madame (quoth hee) for Gods sake helpe to save my life, or else -I shall be slaine heere in your Chamber. Hearing his pittious cry, and compassionating -his desperate case; I arose from my worke, and in my demaunding -of whence, and what he was, that durst presume so boldly into my bed-chamber: -presently came up Signior <i>Lambertuccio</i> also, in the same uncivill -sorte, as before I tolde you, swaggering and swearing, where is this traiterous -villaine? Heereupon, I stept (somewhat stoutly) to my Chamber doore, -and as hee offered to enter, with a womans courage I resisted him, which -made him so much enraged against mee, that when hee saw mee to debarre -his entrance; after many terrible and vile oathes and vowes, hee ranne -downe the stayres againe, in such like manner as you chaunced to meete -him.</p> - -<p>Now trust mee deare wife (said <i>Beltramo</i>) you behaved your selfe -very well and worthily: for, it would have beene a most notorious scandall -to us, if a man should bee slaine in your bed-chamber: and Signior -<i>Lambertuccio</i> carryed himselfe most dishonestly, to pursue any man so -outragiously, having taken my Castle as his Sanctuary. But alas wife, -what is become of the poore affrighted Gentleman? Introth Sir (quoth -she) I know not, but (somewhere or other) heereabout hee is hidden. -Where art thou honest friend? said plaine meaning <i>Beltramo</i>; Come -forth and feare not, for thine enemy is gone.</p> - -<p><i>Lionello</i>, who had heard all the fore-passed discourse, which shee -had delivered to her Husband <i>Beltramo</i>, came creeping forth amazedly -(as one now very fearefully affrighted indeede) from under the further -side of the bedde, and <i>Beltramo</i> saide to him, What a quarrell was -this, between thee and furious <i>Lambertuccio</i>? Not any at all Sir, replyed -<i>Lionello</i>, to my knowledge, which verily perswadeth me; that either he -is not well in his wits, or else he mistaketh me for some other; because, -so soone as he saw me on the way, somewhat neere to this your Castle, -he drew forth his Sword, and swearing an horrible oath, said. Traitor -thou art a dead man. Upon these rough words, I stayed not to question -the occasion of mine offending him: but fled from him so fast as possibly -I could; but confesse my selfe (indeede) over-bold, by presuming -into your Ladies bed chamber, which yet (equalled with her mercie) -hath bin the onely meanes at this time, of saving my life.</p> - -<p>She hath done like a good Lady, answered <i>Beltramo</i>, and I do verie -much commend her for it. But, recollect thy dismayed spirits together, -for I will see thee safely secured hence, afterward, looke to thy -selfe so well as thou canst. Dinner being immediately made ready, and -they having merrily feasted together: he bestowed a good Gelding on -<i>Lionello</i>, and rode along with him to <i>Florence</i>, where he left him quietly -in his owne lodging. The selfe-same Evening (according as <i>Isabella</i> -had given enstruction) <i>Lionello</i> conferred with <i>Lambertuccio</i>: and such -an agreement passed betweene them, that though some rough speeches -were noised abroad, to set the better colour on the businesse; yet al matters -were so cleanly carried, that <i>Beltramo</i> never knew this queint deceitfull -policy of his Wife.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Lodovico_discovered_to_his_Mistresse_Madame_Beatrix_how_amorously_he" id="Lodovico_discovered_to_his_Mistresse_Madame_Beatrix_how_amorously_he">Lodovico <i>discovered to his Mistresse Madame</i> Beatrix, <i>how amorously he -was affected to her. She cunningly sent</i> Egano <i>her Husband into his garden, -in all respects disguised like herselfe, while (friendly)</i> Lodovico -<i>conferred with her in the meane while. Afterward,</i> Lodovico <i>pretending -a lascivious allurement of his Mistresse, thereby to wrong his honest Master, -insted of her, beateth</i> Egano <i>soundly in the Garden.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Seventh Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Whereby is declared, that such as keepe many honest seeming servants, may -sometime finde a knave among them, and one that proves to be over-sawcy -with his Master.</i></h4> - - -<p>This so sodaine dexterity of wit in <i>Isabella</i>, related in verie modest -manner by Madame <i>Pampinea</i>, was not onely admired -by all the company; but likewise passed with as generall approbation. -But yet Madam <i>Philomena</i> (whom the King had commanded -next to succeede) peremptorily sayde. Worthy Ladies, if I am -not deceived; I intend to tell you another Tale presently; as much to -be commended as the last.</p> - -<p>You are to understand then, that it is no long while since, when there -dwelt in <i>Paris</i> a <i>Florentine</i> Gentleman, who falling into decay of his estate, -by over-bountifull expences; undertooke the degree of a Merchant, -and thrived so well by his trading, that he grew to great wealth, -having one onely sonne by his wife, named <i>Lodovico</i>. This Sonne, partaking -somewhat in his Fathers former height of minde, and no way inclineable -to deale in Merchandize, had no meaning to be a Shop-man, -and therefore accompanied the Gentlemen of <i>France</i>, in sundry services -for the King; among whom, by his singular good carriage and qualities, -he happened to be not meanly esteemed. While thus he continued -in the Court, it chanced, that certaine Knights, returning from -<i>Jerusalem</i>, having there visited the holy Sepulcher, and comming into -company where <i>Lodovico</i> was: much familiar discourse passed amongst -them, concerning the faire women of <i>France, England,</i> and other parts -of the world where they had bin, and what delicate beauties they had -seene.</p> - -<p>One in the company constantly avouched, that of all the Women by -them so generally observed, there was not any comparable to the Wife -of <i>Egano de Galluzzi</i>, dwelling in <i>Bologna</i>, and her name Madam <i>Beatrix</i>, -reputed to be the onely faire woman of the world. Many of the rest -maintained as much, having bin at <i>Bologna</i>, and likewise seene her. <i>Lodovico</i> -hearing the woman to be so highly commended, and never (as -yet) feeling any thought of amorous inclination; became sodainely -toucht with an earnest desire of seeing her, and his minde could entertaine -no other matter, but onely of travailing thither to see her, yea, and -to continue there, if occasion so served. The reason for his journey urged -to his Father, was to visit <i>Jerusalem</i>, and the holy Sepulcher, which -with much difficulty, at length he obtained his leave.</p> - -<p>Being on his journey towards <i>Bologna</i>, by the name of <i>Anichino</i>, and -not of <i>Lodovico</i>, and being there arrived; upon the day following, and -having understood the place of her abiding: it was his good happe, to -see the Lady at her Window; she appearing in his eye farre more faire, -then all reports had made her to be. Heereupon, his affection became -so enflamed to her, as he vowed, never to depart from <i>Bologna</i>, untill he -had obtained her love. And devising by what meanes he might effect -his hopes, he grew perswaded (setting all other attempts aside) that if he -could be entertained into her Husbands service, and undergo some businesse -in the house, time might tutor him to obtaine his desire. Having -given his attendants sufficient allowance, to spare his company, and take -no knowledge of him, selling his Horses also, and other notices which -might discover him: he grew into acquaintance with the Hoste of the -house where he lay, revealing an earnest desire in himselfe, to serve som -Lord or worthy Gentleman, if any were willing to give him entertainment.</p> - -<p>Now beleeve me Sir (answered the Hoste) you seeme worthy to have a -good service indeede, and I know a Noble Gentleman of this Cittie, who is named -<i>Egano</i>: he wil (without all question) accept your offer, for hee keepeth -many men of verie good deserving, and you shall have my furtherance therein -so much as may be. As he promised, so he performed, and taking <i>Anichino</i> -with him unto <i>Egano</i>: so farre he prevailed by his friendly protestations, -and good opinion of the young Gentleman; that <i>Anichino</i> -was (without more ado) accepted into <i>Eganoes</i> service, then which, nothing -could be more pleasing to him. Now had he the benefit of dayly -beholding his hearts Mistresse, and so acceptable proved his service to -<i>Egano</i>, that he grew very farre in love with him: not undertaking any -affayres whatsoever, without the advice and direction of <i>Anichino</i>, so -that he reposed his most especiall trust in him, as a man altogether governed -by him.</p> - -<p>It fortuned upon a day, that <i>Egano</i> being ridden to flye his Hawke at -the River, and <i>Anichino</i> remaining behinde at home, Madame <i>Beatrix</i>, -who (as yet) had taken no notice of <i>Anichinoes</i> love to her (albeit her -selfe, observing his fine carriage and commendable qualities, was -highly pleased to have so seeming a servant) called him to play at the -Chesse with her: and <i>Anichino</i>, coveting nothing more then to content -her, carried himselfe so dexteriously in the game, that he permitted hir -still to win, which was no little joy to her. When all the Gentle-women, -and other friends there present, as spectators to behold their play, -had taken their farewell, and were departed, leaving them all alone, yet -gaming still: <i>Anichino</i> breathing forth an intire sigh, Madame <i>Beatrix</i> -looking merrily on him, said. Tell me <i>Anichino</i>, art not thou angrie, to -see me win? It should appeare so by that solemne sigh. No truly Madame, -answered <i>Anichino</i>, a matter of farre greater moment, then losse -of infinite games at the Chesse, was the occasion why I sighed. I pray -thee (replyed the Lady) by the love thou bearest me, as being my Servant -(if any love at all remain in thee towards me) give me a reason for -that harty sigh.</p> - -<p>When he heard himselfe so severely conjured, by the love he bare to -her, and loved none else in the world beside: he gave a farre more hart-sicke -sigh, then before. Then his Lady and Mistresse entreated him seriously, -to let her know the cause of those two deepe sighes: whereto -<i>Anichino</i> thus replyed. Madam, if I should tell you, I stand greatly in feare -of offending you: and when I have told you, I doubt your discovery thereof to -some other. Beleeve me <i>Anichino</i> (quoth she) therein thou neither canst, or -shalt offend me. Moreover, assure thy selfe, that I wil never disclose it to any -other, except I may do it with thy consent. Madame (saide hee) seeing you -have protested such a solemne promise to mee, I will reveale no meane secret -unto you.</p> - -<p>So, with teares standing in his eyes, he told her what he was; where -he heard the first report of her singular perfections, and instantly becam -enamored of her, as the maine motive of his entring into her service. -Then, most humbly he entreated her, that if it might agree with her -good liking, she would be pleased to commisserate his case; and grace -him with her private favours. Or, if shee might not be so mercifull to -him; that yet she would vouchsafe, to let him live in the lowly condition -as he did, and thinke it a thankefull duty in him, onely to love her. -O singular sweetnesse, naturally living in faire feminine blood! How -justly art thou worthy of praise in the like occasions? Thou couldst never -be wonne by sighes and teares; but hearty imprecations have alwayes -prevailed with thee, making thee apt and easie to amorous desires. -If I had praises answerable to thy great and glorious deservings, -my voice should never faint, nor my pen waxe weary, in the due and -obsequious performance of them.</p> - -<p>Madam <i>Beatrix</i>, well observing <i>Anichino</i> when he spake, and giving -credit to his so solemne protestations; they were so powerfull in prevailing -with her, that her senses (in the same manner) were enchanted; and -sighes flew as violently from her, as before he had vented them: which -stormy tempest being a little over-blowne, thus she spake. <i>Anichino</i>, my -hearts deere affected Friend, live in hope, for I tell thee truly, never could -gifts, promises, nor any Courtings used to me by Lords, Knights, Gentlemen, -or other (although I have bin solicited by many) winne the lest grace -or favour at my hand, no, nor move me to any affection. But thou, in a minute -of time (compared with their long and tedious suing) hast expressed -such a soveraigne potency in thy sweet words, that thou hast made me more -thine, then mine owne: and beleeve it unfeinedly, I hold thee to be worthy -of my love. Wherefore, with this kisse I freely give it thee, and make thee a -further promise, that before this night shall be fully past, thou shalt in better -manner perceive it. Adventure into my Chamber about the houre of -midnight, I will leave the doore open: thou knowest, on which side of the -bed I use to rest, come thither and feare not: if I sleep, the least gentle touch -of thy hand will wake me, and then thou shalt see how much I love thee. So, -with a kinde kisse or two, the bargaine was concluded, she licensing his -departure for that time, and he staying in hope of his hearts happinesse, -till when, he thought every houre a yeare.</p> - -<p>In the meane while, <i>Egano</i> returned home from Hawking, and so -soone as he had supt (being very weary) he went to bed, and his Ladie -likewise with him, leaving her Chamber doore open, according as she -had promised. At the houre appointed, <i>Anichino</i> came, finding the -doore but easily put too, which (being entred) softly he closed againe, -in the same manner as he found it. Going to the beds side where the -Lady lay, and gently touching her brest with his hand, he found her to -be awake, and perceiving he was come according unto promise, shee -caught his hand fast with hers, and held him very strongly. Then, turning -(as she could) towards <i>Egano</i>, she made such meanes, as hee awaked, -whereupon she spake unto him as followeth.</p> - -<p>Sir, yesternight I would have had a fewe speeches with you: but, in regard -of your wearinesse and early going to bed, I could not have any opportunity. -Now, this time and place being most convenient, I desire to bee resolved -by you: Among all the men retained into your service; which of them -you do thinke to be the best, most loyall, and worthiest to enjoy your love? -<i>Egano</i> answered thus: Wife, why should you move such a question to me? Do -not you know, that I never had any servant heeretofore, or ever shall have -heereafter, in whom I reposed the like trust as I have done, and do in <i>Anichino</i>? -But to what end is this motion of yours? I will tell you Sir (quoth -she) and then be Judge yourself, whether I have reason to move this question, -or no. Mine opinion every way equalled yours, concerning <i>Anichino</i>, & -that he was more just and faithfull to you, then any could be amongest all -the rest: But Husband, like as where the water runneth stillest, the Foord -is deepest, even so, his smooth lookes have beguiled both you and me. For, -no longer agoe, then this verie day, no sooner were you ridden foorth on -Hauking, but he (belike purposely) tarrying at home, watching such a leysure -as best fitted his intent: was not ashamed to solicite mee, both to abuse -your bed, and mine owne spotlesse honour.</p> - -<p>Moreover, he prosecuted his impious purpose with such alluring perswasions: -that being a weake woman, and not willing to endure over many Amorous -proofes (onely to acquaint you with his most sawcie immodestie, -and to revenge your selfe uppon him as best you may; your selfe beeing best -able to pronounce him guiltie) I made him promise, to meete him in our -Garden, presently after midde-night, and to finde mee sitting under the -Pine-Tree, never meaning (as I am vertuous) to be there. But, that you -may know the deceite and falshoode of your Servant, I would have you to -put on my Night-gowne, my head Attire, and Chinne-cloath, and sitting -but a short while there underneath the Pine-Tree: such is his insatiate -desire, as he will not faile to come, and then you may proceede, as you finde -occasion.</p> - -<p>When <i>Egano</i> heard these Words, sodainely hee started out of Bed, -saying. Doe I foster such a Snake in mine owne bosome? Gramercie -Wife for this politicke promise of thine, and beleeve mee, I meane -to follow it effectually. So, on he put his Ladies Night-gown, her formall -head Attire and Chin-cloth, going presently downe into the Garden, -to expect <i>Anichinoes</i> comming to the Pine-Tree. But before the -matter grew to this issue, let me demand of you faire Ladies, in what a -lamentable condition (as you may imagine) was poore <i>Anichino</i>; to bee -so strongly detained by her, heare all his amorous suite discovered, and -likely to draw very heavy afflictions on him? Undoubtedly, he looked -for immediate apprehension by <i>Egano</i>, imprisonment and publike punishment -for his so malapert presumption: and had it proved so, she had -much renowned her selfe, and dealt with him but as he had justlie deserved.</p> - -<p>But frailtie in our feminine sex is too much prevalent, and makes us -wander from vertuous courses, when we are wel onward in the way to -them. Madam <i>Beatrix</i>, whatsoever passed betweene her and <i>Anichino</i>, I -know not, but, either to continue this new begunne league for further -time, or, to be revenged on her husbands simplicity, in over-rashlie giving -credit to so smooth a ly; this was her advise to him. <i>Anichino</i> quoth -she, Take a good Cudgell in thy hand, then go into the Garden so farre as -the Pine; and there, as if formerly thou hadst solicited mee unto this secret -meeting, only but by way of approving my honestie: in my name, revile -thy master so bitterly as thou canst, bestowing manie sound blowes on him -with thy cudgel; yet urge the shame stil (as it were) to mee, and never leave -him, til thou hast beaten him out of the garden, to teach him keepe his bed -another time. Such an apt Scholler as <i>Anichino</i> was in this kind, needs no -tuturing, but a word is enough to a ready Wit. To the Garden goes -he, with a good willow cudgell in his hand, and comming neere to the -Pine-tree, there he found <i>Egano</i> disguised like to his Lady, who arising -from the place where he sate, went with chearefull gesture to welcome -him; but <i>Anichino</i> (in rough and stearne manner) thus spake unto him. -Wicked, shamelesse, and most immodest Woman, Art thou come, according -to thine unchaste and lascivious promise? Couldest thou so easily credite, -(though I tempted thee, to trie the vertue of thy continencie) I would offer -such a damnable wrong to my worthy Master, that so deerely loves me, and -reposeth his especiall confidence in me? Thou art much deceived in me, and -shalt finde, that I hate to be false to him.</p> - -<p>So lifting up the Cudgell, he gave him therewith halfe a score good -bastinadoes, laying them on soundly, both on his armes and shoulders: -and <i>Egano</i> feeling the smart of them, durst not speake one Worde, but -fled away from him so fast as hee could, <i>Anichino</i> still following, and -multiplying many other injurious speeches against him, with the Epithites -of Strumpet, lustfull and insatiate Woman. Go thou lewde beast -(quoth he) most unworthy the title of a Lady, or to be Wife unto so good a -natured man, as my Mayster is, to whom I will reveale thy most ungracious -incivility to Morrow, that he may punish thee a little better then I have -done.</p> - -<p><i>Egano</i> being thus well beaten for his Garden walke, got within the -doore, and so went up to his Chamber againe: his Lady there demanding -of him, whether <i>Anichino</i> came according to his promise, or no? -Come? quoth Egano, Yes Wife, he came, but deerely to my cost: for hee verily -taking me for thee, hath beaten me most extreamly, calling me an hundred -Whores and Strumpets, reputing thee to bee the wickedest Woman living. -In good sadnesse <i>Beatrix</i>, I wondred not a little at him, that he would -give thee any such vile speeches, with intent to wrong mee in mine honour. -Questionlesse, because hee saw thee to be joviall spirited, gracious and affable -towardes all men; therefore hee intended to make triall of thine honest -carriage. Well Sir (sayde shee) twas happy that hee tempted mee with -words, and let you taste the proofe of them by deeds: and let him thinke, -that I brooke those words as distastably, as you do or can, his ill deeds. But -seeing he is so just, faithfull, and loyall to you, you may love him the better, -and respect him as you finde occasion.</p> - -<p>Whereto <i>Egano</i> thus replyed. Now trust me wife, thou hast said very -well: And drawing hence the argument of his setled perswasion; that -he had the chastest Woman living to his wife, and so just a Servant, as -could not be fellowed: there never was any further discoverie of this -Garden-night accident. Perhaps, Madame <i>Beatrix</i> and <i>Anichino</i> might -subtilly smile thereat in secret, in regard that they knew more then any -other else beside did. But, as for honest meaning <i>Egano</i>, hee never -had so much as the verie least mistrust of ill dealing, either in his -Lady, or <i>Anichino</i>; whom hee loved and esteemed farre more respectively -uppon this proofe of his honestie towards him, then hee would -or could possibly have done, without a triall so playne and pregnant.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Arriguccio_Berlinghieri_became_immeasurably_jelous_of_his_Wife_Simonida" id="Arriguccio_Berlinghieri_became_immeasurably_jelous_of_his_Wife_Simonida">Arriguccio Berlinghieri, <i>became immeasurably jelous of his Wife</i> Simonida, -<i>who fastened a thred about her great toe, for to serve as a signall, -when her amorous friend should come to visite her.</i> Arriguccio <i>findeth -the fallacie, and while he pursueth the amorous friend, shee causeth her -Maide to lye in her bed against his returne: whom he beateth extreamly, -cutting away the lockes of her haire (thinking he had doone all this -violence to his wife</i> Simonida:) <i>and afterward fetcheth her Mother & -Brethren, to shame her before them, and so be rid of her. But they finding -all his speeches to be utterly false; and reputing him to bee a drunken -jealous foole; all the blame and disgrace falleth on himselfe.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Eight Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Whereby appeareth, that an Husband ought to be very well advised, when -he meaneth to discover any wrong offered his wife; except hee himselfe -do rashly run into all the shame and reproach.</i></h4> - - -<p>It seemed to the whole assembly, that Madam <i>Beatrix</i>, dealte -somewhat strangely, in the manner of beguiling her husband; -and affirmed also, that <i>Anichino</i> had great cause of fear, when -she held him so strongly by her beds side, and related all his amorous -temptation. But when the King perceyved, that Madame <i>Philomena</i> -sate silent, he turned to Madam <i>Neiphila</i>, willing her to supply the next -place; who modestly smiling, thus began.</p> - -<p>Faire Ladies, it were an heavy burthen imposed on me, and a matter -much surmounting my capacity, if I should vainely imagine, to content -you with so pleasing a Novell, as those have already done, by you so -singularly reported: neverthelesse, I must discharge my dutie, and take -my fortune as it fals, albeit I hope to finde you mercifull.</p> - -<p>You are to know then, that sometime there lived in our Citie, a very -welthy Merchant, named <i>Arriguccio Berlinghieri</i>, who (as many Merchants -have done) fondly imagined, to make himselfe a Gentleman by -marriage. Which that he might the more assuredly do, he took to wife -a Gentlewoman, one much above his degree or element, she being named -<i>Simonida</i>. Now, in regard that he delighted (as it is the usuall life -of a Merchant) to be often abroad, and little at home, whereby shee -had small benefit of his company; shee grew very forward in affection -with a young Gentleman, called Signior <i>Roberto</i>, who had solicited hir -by many amorous meanes, and (at length) prevailed to win her favor. -Which favour being once obtained; affection gaddes so farre beyond al -discretion, and makes Lovers so heedelesse of their private conversations: -that either they are taken tardy in their folly, or else subjected to -scandalous suspition.</p> - -<p>It came to passe, that <i>Arriguccio</i>, either by rumour, or some other -more sensible apprehension, had received such intelligence concerning -his Wife <i>Simonida</i>, as he grew into extraordinarie jealousie of her, refraining -travaile abroad, as formerly he was wont to doe, and ceassing -from his verie ordinary affayres, addicting all his care and endeavour, -onely to be watchfull of his Wife; so that he never durst sleepe, untill -she were by him in the bed, which was no meane molestation to her, -being thus curbd from her familiar meetings with <i>Roberto</i>. Neverthelesse, -having a long while consulted with her wittes, to find some apte -meanes for conversing with him, being thereto also very earnestlie still -solicited by him; you shall heare what course she undertooke.</p> - -<p>Her Chamber being on the streete side, and somewhat juttying over -it, she observed the disposition of her Husband, that every night it was -long before he fell asleepe: but beeing once falne into it, no noyse -whatsoever, could easily wake him. This his solemne and sound sleeping, -emboldned her so farre, as to meete with <i>Roberto</i> at the streete -doore, which (while her Husband slept) softly she would open to him, -and there in private converse with him.</p> - -<p>But, because shee would know the certaine houre of his comming, -without the least suspition of any: she hung a thred forth of her Chamber -Window, descending downe, within the compasse of <i>Robertoes</i> -reach in the street, and the other end thereof, guided from the Window -to the bed, being conveyed under the cloathes, and shee being in -bed, she fastned it about her left great Toe, wherewith <i>Roberto</i> was sufficiently -acquainted, and thus enstructed withall; that at his comming, -he should plucke the thred, & if her husband was in his dead sleep, she -would let go the thred, and come downe to him: but if he slept not, she -would hold it strongly, and then his tarrying would prove but in vaine; -there could be no meeting that night.</p> - -<p>This devise was highly pleasing both to <i>Roberto</i> and <i>Simonida</i>, being -the intelligencer of their often meeting, and many times also advising -the contrary. But in the end, as the quaintest cunning may faile at -one time or another; so it fortuned one night, that <i>Simonida</i> being in a -sound sleepe, and <i>Arriguccio</i> waking, because his drowsie houre was -not as yet come: as he extended forth his legge in the bed, he found the -thred, which feeling in his hand, and perceiving it was tyed to his wives -great toe; it prooved apt tinder to kindle further Jealousie, and now hee -suspected some treachery indeede, and so much the rather because the -thred guided (under the cloathes) from the bed to the window, and there -hanging downe into the streete, as a warning to some further businesse.</p> - -<p>Now was <i>Arriguccio</i> so furiously enflamed, that hee must needes bee -further resolved in this apparant doubt: and because therein hee would -not be deceived, softly he cut the thred from his wives toe, and made it -fast about his owne; to trye what successe would ensue thereon. It was -not long before <i>Roberto</i> came, and according as hee used to doe, hee -pluckt the thred, which <i>Arriguccio</i> felt, but because hee had not tyed it -fast, and <i>Roberto</i> pulling it over-hardly, it fell downe from the window -into his hand, which he understood as his lesson, to attend her comming, -and so hee did. <i>Arriguccio</i> stealing softly out of bed from his wife, and -taking his Sword under his arme, went downe to the doore, to see who -it was, with full intent of further revenge. Now, albeit he was a Merchant, -yet he wanted not courage, and boldnesse of spirit, and opening -the doore without any noyse, onely as his wife was wont to doe: <i>Roberto</i>, -there waiting his entrance, perceived by the doores unfashionable opening, -that it was not <i>Simonida</i>, but her Husband, whereupon he betooke -himselfe to flight, and <i>Arriguccio</i> fiercely followed him. At the -length, <i>Roberto</i> perceiving that flight avayled him not, because his enemy -still pursued him: being armed also with a Sword, as <i>Arriguccio</i> -was; he returned backe upon him, the one offering to offend, as the other -stood upon his defence, and so in the darke they fought together.</p> - -<p><i>Simonida</i> awaking, even when her Husband went foorth of the -Chamber, and finding the thred to be cut from her toe; conjectured -immediately, that her subtle cunning was discovered, and supposing -her Husband in pursuite of <i>Roberto</i>, presently she arose; and, considering -what was likely to ensue thereon, called her Chamber-maide (who -was not ignorant in the businesse) and by perswasions prevailed so with -her, that she lay downe in her place in the bed, upon solemne protestations -and liberall promises, not to make her selfe knowne, but to suffer all -patiently, either blowes, or other ill usage of her Husband, which shee -would recompence in such bountifull sort, as she should have no occasion -to complaine. So, putting out the watch-light, which every night -burned in the Chamber, she departed thence, and sate downe in a close -corner of the house, to see what would be the end of all this stirre, after -her Husbands comming home.</p> - -<p>The fight (as you have formerly heard) continuing betweene <i>Roberto</i> -and <i>Arriguccio</i>, the neighbours hearing of the clashing of their Swords -in the streets; arose out of their beds, and reproved them in very harsh -manner. In which respect <i>Arriguccio</i>, fearing to be knowne, and ignorant -also what his adversary was (no harme being as yet done on either -side) permitted him to depart; and extreamely full of anger, returned -backe againe to his house. Being come up into his bed-chamber, Thus -he began; Where is this lewde and wicked woman? what? hast thou put -out the light, because I should not finde thee? that shall not avayle thee, -for I can well enough finde a drab in the darke. So, groping on to the -beds side, and thinking hee had taken hold on his wife, he grasped the -Chamber-maide, so beating her with his fists, and spurning her with his -feet, that all her face was bloody & bruised. Next, with his knife he cut off -a great deal of her haire: giving her the most villanous speeches as could -be devised: swearing, that he would make her a shame to all the world.</p> - -<p>You need make no doubt, but the poore maide wept exceedingly, as -she had good occasion to doe: and albeit many times she desired mercy, -and that hee would not bee so cruell to her: yet notwithstanding, her -voyce was so broken with crying, and his impacience so extreame, that -rage hindered all power of distinguishing, or knowing his wives tongue -from a strangers. Having thus madly beaten her, and cut the lockes off -from her head, thus he spake to her. Wicked woman, and no wife of mine, -be sure I have not done with thee yet; for, although I meane not now to beate -thee any longer: I will goe to thy brethren, and they shall understand thy -dishonest behaviour. Then will I bring them home with me, and they perceiving -how much thou hast abused both their honour and thine owne; let -them deale with thee as they finde occasion, for thou art no more a companion -for me. No sooner had he uttered these angry words, but hee went -forth of the Chamber, bolting it fast on the outward side, as meaning to -keepe her safely inclosed, & out of the house he went alone by himselfe.</p> - -<p><i>Simonida</i>, who had heard all this tempestuous conflict, perceiving -that her Husband had lockt the streete doore after him, and was gone -whether he pleased: unbolted the Chamber doore, lighted a waxe candle, -and went in to see her poore maide, whom she found to be most pittifully -misused. She comforted her as well as she could, brought her -into her owne lodging Chamber, where washing her face and hurts in -very soveraigne waters, and rewarding her liberally with <i>Arriguccioes</i> -owne Gold; she held her selfe to bee sufficiently satisfyed. So, leaving -the maide in her lodging, and returning againe to her owne Chamber: -she made up the bed in such former manner, as if no body had lodged -therein that night. Then hanging up her Lampe fresh fild with oyle, and -clearly lighted, she deckt her selfe in so decent sort, as if she had bin in no -bed all that night.</p> - -<p>Then taking sowing worke in her hand, either shirts or bands of her -Husbands; hanging the Lampe by her, and sitting downe at the stayres -head, she fell to worke in very serious manner, as if shee had undertaken -some imposed taske.</p> - -<p>On the other side, <i>Arriguccio</i> had travelled so farre from his house, -till he came at last to the dwelling of <i>Simonidaes</i> brethren: where hee -knockt so soundly, that he was quickely heard, and (almost as speedily) -let in. <i>Simonidaes</i> brethren, and her mother also, hearing of <i>Arriguccioes</i> -comming thither so late. Rose from their beds, and each of them -having a Waxe Candle lighted came presently to him, to understand -the cause of this his so unseasonable visitation. <i>Arriguccio</i>, beginning at -the originall of the matter, the thred found tyed about his wives great -toe, the fight and houshold conflict after following: related every circumstance -to them. And for the better proofe of his words, he shewed -them the thred it selfe, the lockes supposed of his wives haire, and adding -withall; that they might now dispose of <i>Simonida</i> as themselves -pleased, because she should remaine no longer in his house.</p> - -<p>The brethren to <i>Simonida</i> were exceedingly offended at this relation, -in regard they beleeved it for truth, and in this fury, commanded Torches -to be lighted, preparing to part thence with <i>Arriguccio</i> home to his -house, for the more sharpe reprehension of their Sister. Which when -their mother saw, she followed them weeping, first entreating one, and -then the other, not to be over rash in crediting such a slander, but rather -to consider the truth thereof advisedly: because the Husband might be -angry with his Wife upon some other occasion, and having outraged -her, made this the meanes in excuse of himselfe. Moreover she said, that -she could not chuse but wonder greatly, how this matter should thus -come to passe; because she had good knowledge of her daughter, during -the whole course of her education, faultlesse and blamelesse in every -degree; with many other good words of her beside, as proceeding from -naturall affection of a mother.</p> - -<p>Being come to the house of <i>Arriguccio</i>, entring in, and ascending up -the stayres: they heard <i>Simonida</i> sweetly singing at her working; but -pausing, upon hearing their rude trampling, shee demaunded, who was -there. One of the angry brethren presently answered: Lewde woman -as thou art, thou shalt know soone enough who is heere: Our blessed Lady -be with us (quoth <i>Simonida</i>) and sweet Saint Frances helpe to defend me, -who dare use such unseemely speeches? Starting up and meeting them on -the staire head: Kinde brethren, (said she) is it you? What, and my loving -mother too? For sweet Saint Charities sake, what may be the reason of your -comming hither in this manner. Shee being set downe againe to her -worke, so neatly apparelled, without any signe of outrage offered her, -her face unblemished, her haire comely ordered, and differing wholly -from the former speeches of her Husband: the Brethren marvelled -thereat not a little; and asswaging somewhat the impetuous torrent of -their rage; began to demaund in coole blood, (as it were) from what -ground her Husbands complaints proceeded, and threatning her -roughly, if she would not confesse the truth intirely to them.</p> - -<p>Ave Maria (quoth <i>Simonida</i>, crossing her selfe) Alas deare Brethren, -I know not what you say, or meane, nor wherein my Husband should bee offended, -or make any complaint at all of me. <i>Arriguccio</i> hearing this, looked -on her like a man that had lost his Senses: for well he remembred, -how many cruell blowes he had given her on the face, beside scratches -of his nailes, and spurnes of his feet, as also the cutting of her haire, the -the least shew of all which misusage, was not now to be seene. Her brethren -likewise briefly told her, the whole effect of her Husbands speeches, -shewing her the thred, and in what cruell manner he sware hee did -beate her. <i>Simonida</i>, turning then to her Husband, and seeming as confounded -with amazement, said. How is this Husband? what doe I heare? -would you have me supposed (to your owne shame and disgrace) to be a bad -woman, and your selfe a cruell curst man, when (on either side) there is no -such matter? When were you this night heere in the house with mee? Or -when should you beate mee, and I not feele nor know it. Beleeve me (sweete -heart) all these are meerely miracles to me.</p> - -<p>Now was <i>Arriguccio</i> ten times more mad in his minde, then before, -saying. Divell, and no woman, did wee not this night goe both together to -bed? Did not I cut this thred from thy great toe, tyed it to mine, and found -the craftie compact betweene thee and thy Minnion? Did not I follow and -fight with him in the streets? Came I not backe againe, and beate thee as -a Strumpet should be? And are not these the locks of haire, which I my -selfe did cut from thy head?</p> - -<p>Alas Sir (quoth she) where have you been? doe you know what you say? -you did not lodge in this house this night, neither did I see you all the whole -day and night, till now.</p> - -<p>But leaving this, and come to the matter now in question, because I -have no other testimony then mine owne words. You say, that you -did beate me, and cut those lockes of haire from my head. Alas Sir, why -should you slander your selfe? In all your life time you did never strike -me. And to approve the truth of my speeches, doe you your selfe, and -all else heere present, looke on me advisedly, if any signe of blow or beating -is to be seene on me. Nor were it an easie matter for you to doe -either to smite, or so much as lay your hand (in anger) on me, it would -cost dearer then you thinke for. And whereas you say, that you did -cut those lockes of haire from my head; it is more then either I know, or -felt, nor are they in colour like to mine: but, because my Mother and brethren -shall be my witnesses therein, and whether you did it without my -knowledge; you shall all see, if they be cut, or no. So, taking off her -head attyre, she displayed her hayre over her shoulders, which had suffered -no violence, neither seemed to bee so much as uncivilly or rudely -handled.</p> - -<p>When the mother and brethren saw this, they began to murmure against -<i>Arriguccio</i>, saying, What thinke you of this Sir? you tell us of -strange matters which you have done, and all proving false, we wonder how -you can make good the rest. <i>Arriguccio</i> looked wilde, and confusedly, -striving still to maintaine his accusation: but seeing every thing to bee -flatly against him, he durst not attempt to speake one word. <i>Simonida</i> -tooke advantage of this distraction in him, and turning to her brethren, -saide. I see now the marke whereat he aymeth, to make me doe what I never -meante: Namely, that I should acquaint you with his vile qualities, and -what a wretched life I leade with him, which seeing hee will needes have -me to reveale; beare with me if I doe it upon compulsion.</p> - -<p>Mother and Brethren, I am verily perswaded, that those accidents which -he disclosed to you, hath doubtlesse (in the same manner) happened to him, -and you shall heare how. Very true it is, that this seeming honest man, to -whom (in a lucklesse houre) you married me, stileth himselfe by the name -of a Merchant, coveting to be so accounted and credited, as holy in outward -appearance, as a Religious Monke, and as demure in lookes, as the modestest -Maide: like a notorious common drunkard, is a Taverne hunter, where -making his luxurius matches, one while with one Whore, then againe with -another; hee causeth mee every night to sit tarrying for him, even in the -same sort as you found me: sometimes till midnight, and otherwhiles till -broad day light in the morning.</p> - -<p>And questionlesse, being in his wounted drunken humour, hee hath lyen -with one of his sweet Consorts, about whose toe he found the thred, and finding -her as false to him, as he hath alwayes been to me: Did not onely beat -her, but also cut the haire from her head. And having not yet recovered -his sences, is verily perswaded, and cannot be altered from it; but that hee -performed all this villany to me. And if you doe but advisedly observe his -countenance, he appeareth yet to be more then halfe drunke.</p> - -<p>But whatsoever he hath said concerning me, I make no account at all -thereof, because he spake it in his drunkennesse, and as freely as I forgive -him, even so (good Mother and kinde Brethren) let mee entreate you to do -the like.</p> - -<p>When the Mother had heard these words, and confidently beleeved -her Daughter: she began to torment her selfe with anger, saying. By the -faith of my body Daughter, this unkindnesse is not be endured, but rather -let the dogge be hanged, that his qualities may be knowne, he being utterly -unworthy, to have so good a woman to his wife, as thou art. What could he -have done more, if he had taken thee in the open streete, and in company of -some wanton Gallants? In an unfortunate houre wast thou married to him, -base jealous Coxecombe as he is, and it is quite against sense, or reason, that -thou shouldest be subject to his fooleries. What was hee, but a Merchant of -Eale-skinnes or Orenges; bred in some paltry countrey village; taken from -Hogge-rubbing; clothed in Sheepes-Sattin, with Clownish Startops, Leather -stockings, and Caddies garters: His whole habite not worth three -shillings: And yet he must have a faire Gentlewoman to his Wife, of honest -fame, riches and reputation; when, comparing his pedegree with hers, hee -is farre unfit to wipe her shooes.</p> - -<p>Oh my deare Sonnes, I would you had followed my counsell, and permitted -her to match in the honourable family of <i>Count Guido</i>, which was -much mooved, and seriously pursued. But you would needs bestow her on -this goodly Jewell; who, although shee is one of the choysest beauties in -Florence, chaste, honest and truely vertuous: Is not ashamed at midnight, -to proclaime her for a common whore, as if we had no better knowledge -of her. But by the blessed mother of Saint <i>John</i>, if you would be ruled -by mine advise; our law should make him dearely smart for it.</p> - -<p>Alas my sonnes, did I not tell you at home in our owne house, that his -words were no way likely to prove true? Have not your eyes observed his -unmannerly behaviour to your Sister? If I were as you are, hearing what -he hath said, and noting his drunken carriage beside; I should never give over, -as long as he had any life left in him. And were I a man, as I am a -woman; none other then my selfe should revenge her wrongs, making him -a publike spectacle to all drabbing drunkards.</p> - -<p>When the brethren had heard and observed all these occurrences; -in most bitter manner they railed on <i>Arriguccio</i>, bestowing some good -bastinadoes on him beside, concluding thus with him in the end. Quoth -one of them, Wee will pardon this shamefull abusing of our Sister, because -thou art a notorious drunkard: but looke to it (on perill of thy life) that -we have no more such newes hereafter; for, beleeve it unfainedly, if any -such impudent rumours happen to our eares, or so much as a flying fame -thereof; thou shalt surely be paide for both faults together.</p> - -<p>So home againe went they, and <i>Arriguccio</i> stood like one that had -neither life or motion, not knowing (whether what he had done) was -true, or no, or if he dreamed all this while, and so (without uttering any -word) he left his Wife, and went quietly to bed. Thus by her wisdome, -she did not onely prevent an imminent perill: but also made a free and -open passage, to further contentment with her amourous friend, yet -dreadlesse of any distaste or suspition in her Husband.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Lydia_a_Lady_of_great_beauty_birth_and_honour_being_wife_to_Nicostratus" id="Lydia_a_Lady_of_great_beauty_birth_and_honour_being_wife_to_Nicostratus">Lydia, <i>a Lady of great beauty, birth, and honour, being wife to</i> Nicostratus, -<i>Governour of</i> Argos, <i>falling in love with a Gentleman, named</i> Pyrrhus; -<i>was requested by him (as a true testimony of her unfeigned affection) -to performe three severall actions of her selfe. She did accomplish them -all, and imbraced and kissed</i> Pyrrhus <i>in the presence of</i> Nicostratus; <i>by -perswading him, that whatsoever he saw, was meerely false.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Ninth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is declared, that great Lords may sometime be deceived by their -Wives, as well as men of meaner condition.</i></h4> - - -<p>The Novell delivered, by Madame <i>Neiphila</i> seemed so pleasing -to all the Ladies; as they could not refraine from hearty laughter, -beside much liberality of speech. Albeit the King did oftentimes -urge silence, and commanded <i>Pamphilus</i> to follow next. So, when -attention was admitted, <i>Pamphilus</i> began in this order. I am of opinion, -faire Ladies, that there is not any matter, how uneasie or doubtfull -soever it may seeme to be; but the man or woman that affecteth fervently, -dare boldly attempt, and effectually accomplish. And this perswasion -of mine, although it hath beene sufficiently approved, by many -of our passed Novels: Yet notwithstanding, I shall make it much -apparent to you, by a present discourse of mine owne. Wherein I -have occasion to speake of a Lady, to whom Fortune was more favourable, -then either reason or judgement, could give direction. In -which regard, I would not advise any of you, to entertaine so high an -imagination of minde, as to tracke her footsteps of whom I am now to -speake: because Fortune containeth not alwayes one and the same disposition, -neither can all mens eyes be blinded after one manner. And so -proceed we to our Tale.</p> - -<p>In <i>Argos</i>, a most ancient Citie of <i>Achaya</i>, much more renowned by -her precedent Kings, then wealth, or any other great matter of worth: -there lived as Lieutenant or Governour thereof, a Noble Lord, named -<i>Nicostratus</i>, on whom (albeit hee was well stept into yeares) Fortune -bestowed in a marriage a great Lady, no lesse bold of spirit, then choisely -beautifull. <i>Nicostratus</i>, abounding in treasure and wealthy possessions, -kept a goodly trains of Servants, Horses, Houndes, Hawkes, and -what else not, as having an extraordinary felicity in all kinds of game, as -singular exercises to maintaine his health.</p> - -<p>Among his other Servants and Followers, there was a young Gentleman, -gracefull of person, excellent in speech, and every way as active -as no man could be more: his name <i>Pyrrhus</i>, highly affected of <i>Nicostratus</i>, -and more intimately trusted then all the rest. Such seemed the -perfections of this <i>Pyrrhus</i>, that <i>Lydia</i> (for so was the Lady named) began -to affect him very earnestly, and in such sort, as day or night shee -could take no rest, but devised all meanes to compasse her harts desire. -Now, whether he observed this inclination of her towards him, or else -would take no notice thereof, it could not be discerned by any outward -apprehension: which moved the more impatiency in her, & drove her -hopes to dispairing passions. Wherein to finde some comfort and ease, -she called an ancient Gentlewoman of her Chamber, in whom shee reposed -especiall confidence, and thus she spake to her.</p> - -<p><i>Lesca</i>, The good turnes and favours thou hast received from me, should -make thee faithfull and obedient to me: and therefore set a locke uppon thy -lippes, for revealing to any one whatsoever, such matters as now I shall impart -to thee; except it be to him that I command thee. Thou perceivest <i>Lesca</i>, -how youthfull I am, apt to all sprightly recreations, rich, and abounding -in all that a woman can wish to have, in regard of Fortunes common & ordinary -favours: yet I have one especiall cause of complaint: namely, the inequality -of my Mariage, my Husband being over-ancient for me; in which -regard, my youth finds it selfe too highly wronged, being defeated of those -duties and delights, which women (farre inferiour to me) are continuallie -cloyed withall, and I am utterly deprived of. I am subject to the same desires -they are, and deserve to taste the benefit of them, in as ample manner, -as they do or can.</p> - -<p>Hitherto I have lived with the losse of time, which yet (in some measure) -may be releeved and recompenced: For, though Fortune were mine enemy -in Mariage, by such a disproportion of our conditions: yet she may befriend -in another nature, and kindely redeeme the injury done me. Wherefore <i>Lesca</i>, -to be as compleate in this case, as I am in all the rest beside; I have resolved -upon a private Friend, and one more worthy then any other; Namely, -my Servant <i>Pyrrhus</i>, whose youth carieth some correspondency with mine; -and so constantly have I setled my love to him, as I am not well, but when I -thinke on him, or see him: and (indeede) shall dye, except the sooner I may -enjoy him. And therefore, if my life and well-fare be respected by thee, let -him understand the integrity of mine affection, by such good means as thou -findest it most expedient to be done: entreating him from me, that I may -have some conference with him, when he shall thereto be solicited by me.</p> - -<p>The Chamber-Gentlewoman <i>Lesca</i>, willingly undertooke the Ladies -Embassie; and so soone as opportunity did favor her: having withdrawne -<i>Pyrrhus</i> into an apt and commodious place, shee delivered the -Message to him, in the best manner she could devise. Which <i>Pyrrhus</i> -hearing, did not a little wonder thereat, never having noted any such -matter; and therefore sodainly conceyved, that the Lady did this onely -to try him; whereupon, somewhat roundly and roughly, hee returned -this answere. <i>Lesca</i>, I am not so simple, as to credite any such Message to -be sent from my Lady, and therefore be better advised of thy words. But admit -that it should come from her, yet I cannot be perswaded, that her soule -consented to such harsh Language, far differing from a forme so full of beauty. -And yet admit againe, that her hart and tongue herein were relatives: -My Lord and Master hath so farre honoured mee, and so much beyond the -least part of merite in mee: as I will rather dye, then any way offer to disgrace -him: And therefore I charge thee, never more to move mee in this -matter.</p> - -<p><i>Lesca</i>, not a jot danted at his stearne words, presently she saide. <i>Pyrrhus</i>, -Both in this and all other Messages my Lady shall command me, I wil -speake to thee whensoever shee pleaseth, receive what discontent thou canst -thereby; or make presumption of what doubts thou maist devise. But as I -found thee a senselesse fellow, dull, and not shaped to any understanding, so I -leave thee: And in that anger parted from him, carrying backe the same -answer to her Lady. She no sooner heard it, but instantly shee wished -her selfe to be dead; and within some few dayes after, she conferred againe -with her Chamber-woman, saying. <i>Lesca</i>, thou knowest well enough, -that the Oxe falleth not at the first blow of the Axe, neither is -the victory won, upon a silly and shallow adventure: Wherefore, I -thinke it convenient, that once more thou shouldst make another tryall -of him, who (in prejudice to me) standeth so strictly on his loyalty, and -choosing such an houre as seemeth most commodious, soundly possesse -him with my tormenting passions. Bestirre thy Wittes, and tippe thy -tongue with a Womans eloquence, to effect what I so earnestly desire: -because, by languishing in this love-sicke affliction, it well bee the danger -of my death, and some severe detriment to him, to be the occasion -of so great a losse.</p> - -<p><i>Lesca</i>, comforted her Lady, so much as lay in her power to doe, and -having sought for <i>Pyrrhus</i>, whom she found at good leysure; and, in a -pleasing humor, thus she beganne. <i>Pyrrhus</i>, some few dayes since I tolde -thee, in what extreame Agonies thy Lady and mine was, onely in regarde -of her love to thee: and now againe I come once more, to give thee further -assurance thereof: Wherefore, beleeve it unfeignedly, that if thy obstinacie -continue still, in like manner as the other day it did, expect very shortly -to heare the tydings of her death.</p> - -<p>It is my part therefore, to entreat thee, to comfort her long languishing -desires: but if thou persist in thy harsh opinion, in stead of reputing thee a -wise and fortunate young man, I shall confesse thee to bee an ignoraunt Asse. -What a glorie is it to thee, to be affected of so faire and worthy a Lady, beyond -all men else whatsoever? Next to this, tell me, how highly maist thou -confesse thy selfe beholding to Fortune, if thou but duly consider, how shee -hath elected thee as sole soveraigne of her hopes, which is a crowne of honour -to thy youth, and a sufficient refuge against all wants and necessities? -Where is any to thy knowledge like thy selfe, that can make such advantage -of his time, as thou maist do, if thou wert wise? Where canst thou find any -one to go beyond thee in Armes, Horses, sumptuous garments, and Gold, as -will be heaped on thee, if <i>Lydia</i> may be the Lady of thy love? Open then -thine understanding to my words, returne into thine owne soule, and bee -wise for thy selfe.</p> - -<p>Remember (<i>Pyrrhus</i>) that Fortune presents her selfe but once before any -one, with cheerefull lookes, and her lappe wide open of richest favours, -where if choice be not quickely made, before she folde it up, and turn her -backe: let no complaint afterward be made of her, if the Fellow that had -so faire an offer, proove to be miserable, wretched, and a Beggar, only thorow -his owne negligence. Beside, what else hath formerly bin saide, there -is now no such neede of loyaltie in servants to their Ladies, as should be among -deare Friends and Kindred: but servants ought rather (as best they -may) be such to their Masters, as they are to them. Doest thou imagine, -that if thou hadst a faire Wife, Mother, Daughter, or Sister, pleasing in -the eye of our <i>Nicostratus</i>; he would stand on such nice tearmes of duty or -Loyaltie, as now thou doest to his Ladie? Thou wert a verie foole to rest -so perswaded. Assure thy selfe, that if entreaties and faire meanes might -not prevaile, force, and compulsion (whatsoever ensued thereon) woulde -winne the masterie. Let us then use them, and the commodities unto them -belonging, as they would us and ours. Use the benefit of thy Fortune, & -beware of abusing her favour. She yet smiles on thee; but take heede least -she turne her backe, it will then be over-late to repent thy folly. And if my -Ladie die through thy disdaine, be assured, that thou canst not escape with -life, beside open shame and disgrace for ever.</p> - -<p><i>Pyrrhus</i>, who had often considered on <i>Lescaes</i> first message, concluded -with himselfe; that if any more she moved the same matter: hee -would returne her another kinde of answere, wholly yeelding to content -his Lady; provided, that he might remaine assured, concerning the -intyre truth of the motion, and that it was not urged onely to trie him, -wherefore, thus he replyed. <i>Lesca</i>, do not imagine mee so ignorant, as -not to know the certaintie of all thy former allegations, confessing them as -freely as thou doest, or canst. But yet let mee tell thee withall, that I knowe -my Lord to be wise and judicious, and having committed all his affaires to -my care and trust: never blame mee to misdoubt; least my Ladie (by his -counsell and advice) make thee the messenger of this motion, thereby to call -my Fidelitie in question.</p> - -<p>To cleare which doubt, and for my further assurance of her well meaning -toward me; if she wil undertake the performance of three such things -as I must needes require in this case: I am afterward her owne, in any service -she can command me. The first of them, is, that in the presence of my -Lord and Master, she kill his faire Faulcon, which so dearly hee affecteth. -The second, to send me a locke or tuft of his beard, being puld away with -her owne hand. The third and last, with the same hand also, to pluck out -one of his best and soundest teeth, and send it mee as her loves true token. -When I finde all these three effectually performed, I am wholly hers, & not -before.</p> - -<p>These three strict impositions, seemed to <i>Lesca</i>, and her Ladie likewise, -almost beyond the compasse of all possibility. Nevertheles Love, -being a powerfull Oratour in perswading, as also adventurous even on -the most difficult dangers; gave her courage to undertake them all: sending -<i>Lesca</i> backe againe to him, with full assurance, of these more then -<i>Herculean</i> labours. Moreover, her selfe did intend to adde a fourth -taske, in regard of his strong opinion concerning the great Wisedome -of his Lord and Maister. After she had effected all the other three, she -would not permit him to kisse her, but before his Lords face: which -yet should be accomplished in such sort, as <i>Nicostratus</i> himselfe should -not beleeve it, although apparantly he saw it. Well, (quoth <i>Pyrrhus</i>) -when all these wonders are performed, assure my Ladie, that I am truelie -hers.</p> - -<p>Within a short while after, <i>Nicostratus</i> made a solemne Feastivall (according -as yearely he used to doe) in honour of his birth day, inviting -many Lords and Ladies thereto. On which rejoycing day, so soone as -dinner was ended, and the Tables withdrawne: <i>Lydia</i> came into the -great Hall, where the Feast was solemnly kept; very rich and costly apparrelled; -and there, in presence of <i>Pyrrhus</i>, and the whole assemblie, -going to the Perch whereon the Faulcone sate, wherein her Husband -tooke no little delight, and having untyed her, as if shee meant to beare -her on her Fist: tooke her by the Jesses, and beating her against the wal, -killed her. <i>Nicostratus</i> beholding this, called out aloud unto her, saying. -Alas Madame! what have you done? She making him no answere, -but turning to the Lords and Ladies, which had dined there, spake in -this manner.</p> - -<p>Ill should I take revenge on a King, that had offended me, if I had not so -much heart, as to wreake my spleene on a paltry Hawke. Understand then, -worthy Lords and Ladies, that this Faulcone hath long time robbed me of -those delights, which men (in meere equitie) ought to have with their -wives: because continually, so soone as breake of day hath appeared, my -Husband, starting out of bed, makes himselfe readie, presently to Horsse, -and with this Faulcon on his Fist, rides abroad to his recreation in the -Fields. And I, in such forsaken sort as you see, am left all alone in my bed, -discontented and despised: often vowing to my selfe, to bee thus revenged -as now I am, being with-held from it by no other occasion, but onely want -of a fit and apt time, to do it in the presence of such persons, as might bee -just Judges of my wrongs, and as I conceive you all to be.</p> - -<p>The Lords and Ladies hearing these words, and beleeving this deed -of hers to be done no otherwise, but out of her entire affection to <i>Nicostratus</i>, -according as her speeches sounded: compassionately turning towards -him (who was exceedingly displeased) and all smiling, said. Now -in good sadnesse Sir; Madame <i>Lydia</i> hath done well, in acting her just revenge -upon the Hawke, that bereft her of her Husbands kinde companie; -then which nothing is more precious to a loving wife, and a hell it is to live -without it. And <i>Lydia</i>, being sodainly withdrawne into her chamber; -with much other friendly and familiar talke, they converted the anger -of <i>Nicostratus</i> into mirth and smiling.</p> - -<p><i>Pyrrhus</i>, who had diligently observed the whole carriage of this businesse, -saide to himselfe. My Ladie hath begun well, and proceeding on -with no worse successe, will (no doubt) bring her love to an happy conclusion. -As for the Lady her selfe, she having thus kild the Hawke, it was -no long while after, but being in the Chamber with her husband, and -they conversing familiarly together: she began to jest with him, & hee -in the like manner with her, tickling and toying each the other, till at -the length she played with his beard, and now she found occasion aptly -serving, to effect the second taske imposed by <i>Pyrrhus</i>. So, taking -fast hold on a small tuft of his beard, she gave a sodaine snatch, and plucked -it away quite from his chin. Whereat <i>Nicostratus</i> beeing angerly -moved, she (to appease his distaste) pleasantly thus spake. How now my -Lord? Why do you looke so frowningly? What? Are you angry for a few -loose haires of your beard? How then should I take it, when you plucke mee -by the haire of my head, and yet I am not a jot discontented, because I know -you do it but in jesting manner? These friendly speeches cut off all further -contention, and she kepte charily the tuft of her Husbands beard, -which (the verie selfe-same day) shee sent to <i>Pyrrhus</i> her hearts chosen -friend.</p> - -<p>But now concerning the third matter to be adventured, it drove her -to a much more serious consideration, then those two which shee had -already so well and exactly performed. Notwithstanding, like a Ladie -of unconquerable spirit, and (in whom) Love enlarged his power more -and more: she sodainly conceited, what course was best to bee kept in -this case, forming her attempt in this manner. Upon <i>Nicostratus</i> wayted -two young Gentlemen, as Pages of his Chamber, whose Fathers -had given them to his service, to learne the manners of honourable -Courtship, and those qualities necessarily required in Gentlemen. One -of them, when <i>Nicostratus</i> sate downe to dinner or supper, stood in Office -of his Carver, delivering him all the meats whereon he fed. The -other (as Taster) attended on his Cup, and he dranke no other drinke, -but what hee brought him, and they both were highly pleasing unto -him.</p> - -<p>On a day, <i>Lydia</i> called these two youths aside; and, among some other -speeches, which served but as an induction to her intended policy; -she perswaded them, that their mouths yeelded an unsavoury & ill-pleasing -smell, whereof their Lord seemed to take dislike. Wherefore she -advised them, that at such times as they attended on him in their severall -places: they should (so much as possibly they could) withdraw their -heads aside from him, because their breath might not be noyous unto -him. But withall, to have an especiall care, of not disclosing to any one, -what she had told them; because (out of meere love) she had acquainted -them therewith: which very constantly they beleeved, and followed -the same direction as she had advised, being loath to displease, where -service bound them to obey. Choosing a time fitting for her purpose, -when <i>Nicostratus</i> was in private conference with her, thus she began. -Sir, you observe not the behaviour of your two pages, when they wait -on you at the Table? Yes but I do wife (quoth he) how squemishly they turn -their heads aside from me, and it hath often bin in my minde, to understand -a reason why they do so.</p> - -<p>Seating herselfe by him, as if shee had some weighty matter to tell -him; she proceeded in this manner. Alas my Lord, you shall not need to -question them, because I can sufficiently resolve you therein: which (neverthelesse) -I have long concealed, because I would not be offensive to you. -But in regard, it is now manifestly apparant, that others have tasted, what -(I immagined) none but my selfe did, I will no longer hide it from you. -Assuredly Sir, there is a most strange and unwonted ill-savour, continually -issuing from your mouth, smelling most noysomely, and I wonder what -should be the occasion. In former times, I never felt any such foule breathing -to come from you: and you, who do daily converse with so many worthy -persons, should seeke meanes to be rid of so great an annoyance. You say -verie true wife (answered <i>Nicostratus</i>) and I protest to you on my Credite, -I feele no such ill smell, neither know what should cause it, except I have som -corrupted tooth in my mouth. Perhaps Sir (quoth she) it may be so, and -yet you feele not the savour which others do, yea, very offensively.</p> - -<p>So, walking with her to a Window, he opened wide his mouth, the -which nicely shee surveyed on either side, and, turning her head from -him, as seeming unable to endure the savour: starting, and shrieking out -alowd, she said. Santa Maria! What a sight is this? Alas my good Lord, -How could you abide this, and for so long a while? Heere is a tooth on this -side, which (so farre as I can perceive) is not onely hollow and corrupted: -but also wholly putrified and rotten, and if it continue still in your head, beleeve -it for a truth, that it will infect and spoile all the rest neere it. I would -therefore counsell you, to let it be pluckt out, before it breede your further -danger. I like your counsell well <i>Lydia</i>, replyed <i>Nicostratus</i>, and presently -intend to follow it; Let therefore my Barber be sent for, and, without -any longer delay, he shall plucke it forth instantly.</p> - -<p>How Sir? (quoth she,) your Barber? Uppon mine Honour, there shall -come no Barber heere. Why Sir, it is such a rotten Tooth, and standeth -so fairely for my hand: that, without helpe or advice of any Barber, let mee -alone for plucking it forth, without putting you to any paine at all. Moreover, -let me tell you Sir, those Tooth-drawers are so rude and cruell, in performing -such Offices, as my heart cannot endure, that you should come -within compasse of their currish courtesie, neither shall you Sir, if you will -be ruled by me. If I should faile in the manner of their facilitie, yet love & -duty hath enstructed me, to forbeare your least paining, which no unmannerly -Barber will do.</p> - -<p>Having thus spoken, and he well contented with her kinde offer, the -instruments were brought, which are used in such occasions, all being -commanded forth of the Chamber, but onely <i>Lesca</i>, who evermore -kept still in her company. So, locking fast the doore, and <i>Nicostratus</i> -being seated, as she thought fittest for her purpose, she put the Tanacles -into his mouth, catching fast hold on one of his soundest teeth: which, -notwithstanding his loud crying, <i>Lesca</i> held him so strongly, that forth -she pluckt it, and hid it, having another tooth readie made hot & bloody, -very much corrupted and rotten, which she helde in the Tanacles, -and shewed to him, who was well-neere halfe dead with anguish. See -Sir (quoth she) was this Tooth to be suffered in your head, and to yeeld so -foule a smell as it did? He verily beleeving what she said, albeit hee had -endured extreame paine, and still complained on her harsh and violent -pulling it out: rejoyced yet, that he was now ridde of it, and she comforting -him on the one side, and the anguish asswaging him on the other, -he departed forth of the Chamber.</p> - -<p>In the mean while, by <i>Lesca</i> she sent the sound tooth to <i>Pyrrhus</i>, who -(wondering not a little at her so many strange attempts; which hee urged -so much the rather, as thinking their performance impossible, and, -in meere loyall duty to his Lord) seeing them all three to be notably effected; -he made no further doubt of her intire love towardes him, but -sent her assurance likewise, of his readinesse and serviceable diligence, -whensoever she would command him.</p> - -<p>Now, after the passage of all these adventures, hardly to bee undertaken -by any other Woman: yet she held them insufficient for his security, -in the grounded perswasion of her love to him, except shee performed -another of her owne, and according as shee had boldly promised. -Houres do now seeme dayes, and dayes multiplicitie of yeeres, till the -kisse may be given, and receyved in the presence of <i>Nicostratus</i>, yet hee -himselfe to avouch the contrary.</p> - -<p>Madam <i>Lydia</i> (upon a pretended sicknesse) keepeth her chamber, and -as women can hardly be exceeded in dissimulation: so, shee wanted no -wit, to seeme exquisitely cunning, in all the outwarde apparances of -sicknesse. One day after dinner, shee being visited by <i>Nicostratus</i>, and -none attending on him but <i>Pyrrhus</i> onely: she earnestly entreated, that -as a mitigation, to some inward afflictions which she felt, they would -helpe to guide her into the Garden.</p> - -<p>Most gladly was her motion graunted, and <i>Nicostratus</i> gently taking -her by one arme, and <i>Pyrrhus</i> by the other, so they conducted her into -the Garden, seating her in a faire floury Grasse-plot, with her backe -leaning to a Peare-tree. Having sitten there an indifferent while, and -<i>Pyrrhus</i>, being formerly enstructed, in the directions which she had given -him, thus shee spake, some-what faintly. <i>Pyrrhus</i>, I have a kinde of -longing desire upon a sodaine, to taste of these Peares: Wherefore, climbe -up into the Tree, and cast me downe one or two; which instantly hee did. -Being aloft in the Tree, and throwing downe some of the best and ripest -Peares; at length (according to his premeditated Lesson) looking -downe, he said.</p> - -<p>Forbeare my Lord, Do you not see, in how weake and feeble condition -my Ladie is, being shaken with so violent a sicknesse? And you Madam, -how kinde and loving soever you are to my Lord, Are you so little carefull -of your health, being but now come forth of your sicke Chamber, to be ruffled -and tumbled in such rough manner? Though such dalliances are not -amisse in you both; being fitter for the private Chamber, then an open garden, -and in the presence of a servant: yet time and place should alwaies bee -respectively considered, for the avoiding of ill example, and better testimonie -of your owne Wisedomes, which ever should be like your selves. But -if so soone, and even in the heate of a yet turbulent sickenesse, your equall -love can admit these kisses and embraces: your private Lodginges were -much more convenient, where no Servants eye can see such Wantonnesse, -nor you be reproved of indiscretion, for being too publique in your Familiaritie.</p> - -<p>Madame <i>Lydia</i>, sodainely starting, and turning unto her Husband, -sayde. What doth <i>Pyrrhus</i> prate? Is he well in his wittes? Or is he franticke? -No Madame, replyed <i>Pyrrhus</i>, I am not franticke. Are you so fond -as to thinke that I do not see your folly? <i>Nicostratus</i> wondering at his -Words, presently answered. Now trust me <i>Pyrrhus</i>, I think thou dreamest. -No my Lord, replyed <i>Pyrrhus</i>, I dreame not a jot, neither do you, -or my Ladie: but if this Tree could affoord the like kindnesse to me, as you -do to her, there would not a Peare bee left uppon it. How now <i>Pyrrhus</i>? -(quoth <i>Lydia</i>) this language goeth beyond our understanding, it seemeth -thou knowest not what thou saist. Beleeve me husband, if I were as well as -ever I have bin, I would climb this tree, to see those idle wonders which hee -talketh of: for, while he continueth thus above, it appeareth, hee can finde -no other prattle, albeit he taketh his marke amisse.</p> - -<p>Heereupon, he commanded <i>Pyrrhus</i> to come downe, and being on -the ground: Now <i>Pyrrhus</i> (quoth he) tell me what thou saydst. <i>Pyrrhus</i>, -pretending an alteration into much amazement, straungely looking about -him, saide; I know not verie well (my Lord) what answere I should -make you, fearing least my sight hath bin abused by error: for when I was -aloft in that Tree, it seemed manifestly to me: that you embraced my Lady -(though somewhat rudely, in regard of her perillous sicknesse, yet lovingly) -and as youthfully as in your younger daies, with infinite kisses, and wanton -dalliances, such as (indeede) deserved a far more private place in my poore -opinion. But in my descending downe, mee thought you gave over that amorous -familiaritie, and I found you seated as I left you. Now trust mee -<i>Pyrrhus</i>, answered <i>Nicostratus</i>, Thy tongue and wit have very strangely -wandred, both from reason and all reall apprehension: because we never stirred -from hence, since thou didst climbe up into the Tree, neither mooved otherwise, -then as now thou seest us. Alas my Lord (saide <i>Pyrrhus</i>) I humbly -crave pardon for my presumption, in reprooving you for meddling with -your owne: which shal make me hereafter better advised, in any thing what -soever I heare or see.</p> - -<p>Mervaile and amazement, encreased in <i>Nicostratus</i> far greater then -before, hearing him to avouch still so constantly what he had seene, no -contradiction being able to alter him, which made him rashly sweare -and say. I will see my selfe, whether this Peare-tree bee enchanted, or no: -and such wonders to be seene when a man is up in it, as thou wouldst have -us to beleeve. And being mounted up so hy, that they were safe from his -sodaine comming on them, <i>Lydia</i> had soone forgotten her sicknes, and -the promised kisse cost her above twenty more, beside verie kinde and -hearty embraces, as lovingly respected and entertained by <i>Pyrrhus</i>. -Which <i>Nicostratus</i> beholding aloft in the tree; cryed out to her, saying. -Wicked woman, What doest thou meane? And thou villain <i>Pyrrhus</i>, -Darst thou abuse thy Lord, who hath reposed so much trust in thee? So, -descending in haste downe againe, yet crying so to them still: <i>Lydia</i> -replyed, Alas my Lord, Why do you raile and rave in such sort? So, hee -found her seated as before, and <i>Pyrrhus</i> waiting with dutifull reverence, -even as when he climbed up the Tree: but yet he thought his sight not -deceyved, for all their demure and formall behaviour, which made -him walke up and downe, extreamely fuming and fretting unto himselfe, -and which in some milder manner to qualifie, <i>Pyrrhus</i> spake thus -to him.</p> - -<p>I deny not (my good Lord) but freely confesse, that even as your selfe, so -I, being above in the Tree, had my sight most falsely deluded: which is so -apparantly confirmed by you, and in the same sort, as there needeth no -doubt of both our beguiling; in one and the same suspitious nature. In which -case to be the more assuredly resolved, nothing can be questioned, but whether -your beleefe do so farre misleade you, as to thinke, that my Ladie (who -hath alwayes bene most wise, loyall, and vertuous,) would so shamefullie -wrong you: yea, and to performe it before your face, wherein I dare gadge -my life to the contrary. Concerning my selfe, it is not fit for mee, to argue -or contest in mine owne commendation: you that have ever knowne the sincerity -of my service, are best able to speake in my behalfe: and rather wold -I be drawne in peeces with foure wilde horses, then bee such an injurious -slave to my Lord and Master.</p> - -<p>Now then, it can be no otherwise, but we must needs rest certainly perswaded, -that the guile and offence of this false appearance, was occasioned -by thee onely. For all the world could not make me otherwise beleeve, but -that I saw you kisse and most kindely imbrace my Lady: if your owne -eyes had not credited the like behaviour in me to her, of which sinne, I never -conceived so much as a thought. The Lady (on the other side) seeming -to be very angerly incensed, starting faintly upon her feet, yet supporting -her selfe by the tree, said. It appeareth Sir, that you have entertained -a goodly opinion of me as, if I were so lewde and lasciviously disposed, -or addicted to the very least desire of wantonnesse: that I would bee so -forgetfull of mine owne honour, as to adventure it in your sight, and with -a servant of my house? Oh Sir, such women as are so familiarly affected, -need learne no wit of men in amourous matters; their private Chambers -shall be better trusted, then an open blabing and tell-tale Garden.</p> - -<p><i>Nicostratus</i>, who verily beleeved what they had both said, and that -neither of them would adventure such familiarity before his face: would -talke no more of the matter, but rather studyed of the rarity of such a -miracle, not seene, but in the height of the tree, and changing againe upon -the descent. But <i>Lydia</i>, containing still her colourable kinde of impatience, -and angerly frowning upon <i>Nicostratus</i>, stearnely saide. If I -may have my will, this villanous and deceiving tree, shall never more shame -me, or any other woman: and therefore <i>Pyrrhus</i>, runne for an Axe, and -by felling it to the ground, in an instant, revenge both thy wrong and mine. -Doest not thou serve a worthy Lord? And have not I a wise Husband, who, -without any consideration, will suffer the eye of his understanding to be so -dazeled, with a foolish imagination beyond all possibility? For, although his -eyes did apprehend such a folly, and it seemed to be a truth indeed: yet, in the -depth of setled judgement, all the world should not perswade him, that it -was so.</p> - -<p><i>Pyrrhus</i> had quickely brought the Axe, and hewing downe the tree, -so soone as the Lady saw it fall; turning her selfe to <i>Nicostratus</i>, she said. -Now that I have seene mine honour and honesties enemy laid along; mine anger -is past, and Husband, I freely pardon you: intreating you heartily henceforward, -not to presume or imagine, that my love eyther is, or can bee altred -from you.</p> - -<p>Thus the mocked and derided <i>Nicostratus</i>, returned in againe with his -Lady and <i>Pyrrhus</i>; where perhaps (although the Peare-tree was cut -downe) they could find as cunning meanes to over-reach him.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Two_Citizens_of_Siena_the_one_named_Tingoccio_Mini_the_other_Meucio" id="Two_Citizens_of_Siena_the_one_named_Tingoccio_Mini_the_other_Meucio"><i>Two Citizens of</i> Siena, <i>the one named</i> Tingoccio Mini, <i>& the other</i> Meucio -di Tora, <i>affected both one woman, called</i> Monna Mita, <i>to whom the one of -them was a Gossip. The Gossip dyed, and appeared afterward to his companion, -according as he had formerly promised him to doe, and tolde him -what strange wonders he had seene in the other world.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Tenth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein such men are covertly reprehended, who make no care or conscience -at all of those things that should preserve them from sinne.</i></h4> - - -<p>Now there remained none but the King himselfe, last of all to recount -his Novell; who, after hee heard the Ladies complaints -indifferently pacified, for the rash felling downe of such a precious -Peare-tree; thus he began. Faire Ladies, it is a case more then manifest, -that every King, who will be accounted just and upright: should first -of all, and rather then any other, observe those Lawes which he himselfe hath -made; otherwise he ought to be reputed as a servant, worthy of punishment, -and no King. Into which fault and reprehension, I your King, shall well neere -be constrained to fall; for yesterday I enacted a Law, upon the forme of our -discoursing, with full intent, that this day I would not use any part of my priviledge; -but being subject (as you all are) to the same Law, I should speake of -that argument, which already you have done.</p> - -<p>Wherein, you have not onely performed more then I could wish, upon a subject -so sutable to my minde: but in every Novell, such variety of excellent -matter, such singular illustrations, and delicate eloquence hath flowne from -you all; as I am utterly unable to invent any thing (notwithstanding the most -curious search of my braine) apt or fit for the purpose, to paragon the meanest -of them already related. And therefore seeing I must needs sinne in the Law -established by my selfe; I tender my submission, as worthy of punishment, or -what amends else you please to enjoyne mee. Now, as returned to my wonted -priviledge, I say, that the Novell recounted by Madame <i>Eliza</i>, of the Fryar -Godfather and his Gossip <i>Agnesia</i>, as also the sottishnesse of the <i>Senese</i> her -Husband, hath wrought in me (worthy Ladies) to such effect; as, forbearing -to speake any more of these wily prancks, which witty wives exercise on their -simple Husbands; I am to tell you a pretty short Tale; which, though there is -matter enough in it, not worthy the crediting, yet partly it will bee pleasing to -heare.</p> - -<p>Sometime there lived in <i>Sienna</i> two popular men; the one being named -<i>Tingoccio Mini</i> and the other <i>Meucio de Tora</i>; Men simple, and of -no understanding, both of them dwelling in <i>Porta Salaia</i>. These two men -lived in such familiar conversation together, and expressed such cordiall -affection each to other, as they seldome walked asunder; but (as honest -men use to doe) frequented Churches and Sermons, oftentimes hearing, -both what miseries and beatitudes were in the world to come, according -to the merits of their soules that were departed out of this life, -and found their equall repaiment in the other. The manifold repetition -of these matters, made them very earnestly desirous to know, by what -meanes they might have tydings from thence, for their further confirmation. -And finding all their endeavours utterly frustrated, they made -a solemne vow and promise (each to other under oath) that hee which -first dyed of them two, should returne backe againe (so soone as possibly -he could) to the other remaining alive, and tell him such tydings as hee -desired to heare.</p> - -<p>After the promise was thus faithfully made, and they still keeping -company, as they were wont to doe: It fortuned, that <i>Tingoccio</i> became -Gossip to one, named <i>Ambrosito Anselmino</i>, dwelling in <i>Camporeggio</i>, -who by his wife, called <i>Monna Mita</i>, had a sweet and lovely Sonne. <i>Tingoccio</i> -often resorting thither, and consorted with his companion <i>Meucio</i>; -the she-Gossip, being a woman worthy the loving, faire and comely of -her person: <i>Tingoccio</i>, notwithstanding the Gossipship betweene them, -had more then a moneths minde to his Godchilds Mother. <i>Meucio</i> also -fell sicke of the same disease, because shee seemed pleasing in his eye, -and <i>Tingoccio</i> gave her no meane commendations; yet, carefully they -concealed their love to themselves, but not for one & the same occasion. -Because <i>Tingoccio</i> kept it closely from <i>Meucio</i>, lest he should hold it disgracefull -in him, to beare amourous affection to his Gossip, and thought -it unfitting to bee knowne. But <i>Meucio</i> had no such meaning, for hee -knew well enough that <i>Tingoccio</i> loved her, and therefore conceived in -his minde, that if he discovered any such matter to him: He will (quoth -he) be jealous of me, and being her Gossip, which admitteth his conference -with her when himselfe pleaseth; he may easily make her to distaste -me, and therefore I must rest contented as I am.</p> - -<p>Their love continuing on still in this kinde, <i>Tingoccio</i> prooved so fortunate -in the businesse, that having better meanes then his companion, -and more prevayling courses, when, where, and how to Court his Mistresse, -which seemed to forward him effectually. All which <i>Meucio</i> -plainely perceived, and though it was tedious and wearisome to him, -yet hoping to finde some successe at length: he would not take notice of -any thing, as fearing to infringe the amity betweene him and <i>Tingoccio</i>, -and so his hope to be quite supplanted. Thus the one triumphing in his -loves happinesse, and the other hoping for his felicity to come; a lingering -sickenesse seazed on <i>Tingoccio</i>, which brought him to so low a condition, as -at the length he dyed.</p> - -<p>About some three or foure nights after, <i>Meucio</i> being fast asleepe in -his bed, the ghoste of <i>Tingoccio</i> appeared to him, and called so loude, that -<i>Meucio</i> awaking, demanded who called him? I am thy friend <i>Tingoccio</i>, -replied the ghoste, who according to my former promise made, am come -again in vision to thee, to tell thee tidings out of the nether world. <i>Meucio</i> -was a while somewhat amazed; but, recollecting his more manly -spirits together, boldly he said. My brother and friend, thou art heartily -welcome: but I thought thou hadst beene utterly lost. Those things (quoth -<i>Tingoccio</i>) are lost, which cannot be recovered againe, and if I were lost, -how could I then be heere with thee? Alas <i>Tingoccio</i>, replyed <i>Meucio</i>, my -meaning is not so: but I would be resolved, whether thou art among the -damned soules, in the painefull fire of hell torments, or no? No (quoth -<i>Tingoccio</i>) I am not sent thither, but for divers sinnes by mee committed -I am to suffer very great and grievous paines. Then <i>Meucio</i> demaunded -particularly, the punishments inflicted there, for the severall sinnes committed -heere: Wherein <i>Tingoccio</i> fully resolved him. And upon further -question, what hee would have to be done for him here, made answere, -That <i>Meucio</i> should cause Masses, Prayers and Almes deeds to -be performed for him, which (he said) were very helpefull to the soules -abiding there, and <i>Meucio</i> promised to see them done.</p> - -<p>As the ghost was offering to depart, <i>Meucio</i> remembred <i>Tingoccioes</i> -Gossip <i>Monna Mita</i>, and raysing himselfe higher upon his pillowe, said. -My memorie informeth me, friend <i>Tingoccio</i>, of your kinde Gossip <i>Monna -Mita</i>, with whom (when you remained in this life) I knew you to be very -familiar: let me intreat you then to tell me, what punishment is inflicted -on you there, for that wanton sinne committed heere? Oh Brother <i>Meucio</i>, -answered <i>Tingoccio</i>, so soone as my soule was landed there, one came immediately -to me, who seemed to know all mine offences readily by heart, and -forthwith commanded, that I should depart thence into a certaine place, -where I must weepe for my sinnes in very grievous paines. There I found -more of my companions, condemned to the same punishment as I was, and -being among them, I called to minde some wanton dalliances, which had -passed betweene my Gossip and me, and expecting therefore farre greater afflictions, -then as yet I felt (although I was in a huge fire, and exceedingly -hot) yet with conceite of feare, I quaked and trembled wondrously.</p> - -<p>One of my other Consorts being by me, and perceiving in what an extreame -agony I was; presently said unto me. My friend, what hast thou -done more, then any of us here condemned with thee, that thou tremblest -and quakest, being in so hot a fire? Oh my friend (quoth I) I am in feare -of a greater judgement then this, for a grievous offence by mee heretofore -committed while I lived. Then hee demaunded of mee what offence it -was, whereto thus I answered. It was my chance in the other world, to -be Godfather at a childs Christning, and afterward I grew so affectionate to -the childs mother, as (indeed) I kissed her twice or thrise. My companyon -laughing at me in mocking manner, replyed thus. Goe like an Asse as thou -art, and be no more affraid hereafter, for here is no punishment inflicted, in -any kinde whatsoever, for such offences of frailty committed, especially with -Gossips, as I my selfe can witnesse.</p> - -<p>Now day drew on, and the Cockes began to crow, a dreadfull hearing -to walking spirits, when <i>Tingoccio</i> said to <i>Meucio</i>. Farewell my -friendly companion, for I may tarry no longer with thee, and instantly hee -vanished away. <i>Meucio</i> having heard this confession of his friend, and -verily beleeving it for a truth, that no punishment was to be inflicted in -the future world, for offences of frailty in this life, and chiefly with -Gossips: began to condemne his owne folly, having bin a Gossip to -many wives, yet modesty restrained him from such familiar offending. -And therefore being sorry for this grosse ignorance, hee made a vowe -to be wiser hereafter. And if Fryar <i>Reynard</i> had been acquainted with -this kind of shrift (as doubtlesse he was, though his Gossip <i>Agnesia</i> knew -it not) he needed no such Syllogismes, as he put in practise, when he converted -her to his lustfull knavery, in the comparison of kinred by him -moved, concerning her husband, the childe and himselfe. But, these are -the best fruits of such Fryerly Confessions, to compasse the issue of their -inordinate appetites; yet clouded with the cloake of Religion, which -hath beene the overthrow of too many.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>By this time the gentle blast of <i>Zephirus</i> began to blow, because the -Sunne grew neere his setting, wherewith the King concluded his Novell, -and none remaining more to be thus imployed: taking the Crowne -from off his owne head, he placed it on Madame <i>Laurettaes</i>, saying, Madame, -I Crowne you with your owne Crowne, as Queene of our Company. -You shall henceforth command as Lady and Mistresse, in such occasions as -shall be to your liking, and for the contentment of us all; With which -words he set him downe. And Madame <i>Lauretta</i> being now created -Queene, shee caused the Master of the houshold to bee called, to whom -she gave command, that the Tables should be prepared in the pleasant -vally, but at a more convenient houre, then formerly had beene, because -they might (with better ease) returne backe to the Pallace. Then shee -tooke order likewise, for all such other necessary matters, as should bee -required in the time of her Regiment: and then turning her selfe to the -whole Company, she began in this manner.</p> - -<p>It was the Will of <i>Dioneus</i> yesternight, that our discourses for this day, -should concerne the deceits of wives to their Husbands. And were it not -to avoyde taxation, of a spleenitive desire to be revenged, like the dog being -bitten, biteth againe: I could command our to morrows conference, to touch -mens treacheries towards their wives. But because I am free from any such -fiery humor, let it be your generall consideration, to speake of such queint beguylings, -as have heretofore past, either of the woman to the man, the man -to the woman, or of one man to another: and I am of opinion, that they will -yeeld us no lesse delight, then those related (this day) have done. When she -had thus spoken, she rose; granting them all liberty, to goe recreate themselves -untill Supper time.</p> - -<p>The Ladies being thus at their owne disposing, some of them bared -their legges and feete, to wash them in the coole current. Others, not so -minded, walked on the greene grasse, and under the goodly spreading -trees. <i>Dioneus</i> and Madame <i>Fiammetta</i>, they sate singing together, -the love-warre betweene <i>Arcit</i> and <i>Palemon</i>. And thus with diversity -of disports, in choice delight and much contentment, all were imployed, -till Supper drew neere. When the houre was come, and the Tables -covered by the Ponds side: we need not question their dyet and dainties, -infinite Birds sweetly singing about them, as no musicke in the world -could be more pleasing; beside calme windes, fanning their faces from -the neighbouring hilles (free from flyes, or the least annoyance) made a -delicate addition to their pleasure.</p> - -<p>No sooner were the Tables withdrawne, and all risen: but they -fetcht a few turnings about the vally, because the Sunne was not (as yet) -quite set. Then in the coole evening, according to the Queenes appointment: -in a soft and gentle pace, they walked homeward: devising -on a thousand occasions, as well those which the dayes discourses had -yeelded, as others of their owne inventing beside. It was almost darke -night, before they arrived at the Pallace; where, with variety of choice -Wines, and abounding plenty of rare Banquetting, they out-wore the -little toile and wearinesse, which the long walke had charged them withall. -Afterward, according to their wonted order, the Instruments being -brought and played on, they fell to dancing about the faire Fountaine; -<i>Tindaro</i> intruding (now and then) the sound of his Bagpipe, to make the -musicke seeme more melodious. But in the end, the Queene commanded -Madame <i>Philomena</i> to sing; whereupon the Instruments being tuned -fit for the purpose, thus she began.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Song.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Chorus Sung by the whole Company.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i7">Wearisome is my life to me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because I cannot once againe returne;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unto the place which made me first to mourne.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Nothing I know, yet feele a powerfull fire,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Burning within my brest,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Through deepe desire;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To be once more where first I felt unrest,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Which cannot be exprest.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O my sole good! O my best happinesse!<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Why am I thus restrainde?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is there no comfort in this wretchednesse?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then let me live content, to be thus painde.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Wearisome is my life to me, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">I cannot tell what was that rare delight,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Which first enflamde my soule,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">And gave command in spight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That I should find no ease by day or night,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">But still live in controule.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I see, I heare, and feele a kinde of blisse,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Yet find no forme at all:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Other in their desire, finde blessednesse,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I have none, nor thinke I ever shall.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Wearisome is my life to me, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Tell me if I may hope in following dayes,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">To have but one poore sight,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Of those bright Sunny rayes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dazeling my sence, did o'recome me quite,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Bequeath'd to wandring wayes.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If I be posted off and may not prove.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">To have the smallest grace:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or but to know, that this proceeds from love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why should I live despisde in every place?<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Wearisome is my life to me, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Me thinkes milde favour whispers in mine eare,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">And bids me not despaire;<br /></span> -<span class="i7">There will a time appeare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To quell and quite confound consuming care,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">And joy surmount proud feare.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In hope that gracious time will come at length,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">To cheare my long dismay:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My spirits reassume your former strength,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And never dread to see that joyfull day.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Wearisome is my life to me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because I cannot once againe returne;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unto the place which made me first to mourne.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>This Song gave occasion to the whole Company, to imagine, that -some new and pleasing apprehension of Love, constrained Madame -<i>Philomena</i> to sing in this manner. And because (by the discourse thereof) -it plainely appeared, that shee had felt more then shee saw, shee was so -much the more happy, and the like was wished by all the rest. Wherefore, -after the Song was ended; the Queene remembring, that the next -day following was Friday, turning her selfe graciously to them all, thus -she spake.</p> - -<p>You know noble Ladies, and you likewise most noble Gentlemen, that to -morrow is the day consecrated to the Passion of our blessed Lord and Saviour, -which (if you have not forgotten it, as easily you cannot) we devoutly -celebrated, Madame <i>Neiphila</i> being then Queene, ceasing from all our -pleasant discoursing, as we did the like on the Saturday following, sanctifying -the sacred Sabboth, in due regard of it selfe. Wherefore, being desirous -to imitate precedent good example, which in worthy manner shee began to -us all: I hold it very decent and necessary, that we should asttaine to morrow, -and the day ensuing, from recounting any of our pleasant Novels, reducing -to our memories, what was done (as on those dayes) for the salvation -of our soules. This holy and Religious motion made by the Queene, -was commendably allowed by all the assembly, and therefore, humbly -taking their leave of her, and an indifferent part of the night -being already spent; severally they betooke themselves to their Chambers.</p> - - -<h4><i>The end of the Seaventh day.</i></h4> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="THE_EIGHT_DAY" id="THE_EIGHT_DAY">THE -EIGHT DAY.</a></h2> - -<h4>Whereon all the Discourses, passe -under the Rule and Government, of the Honourable -Ladie <span class="smcap">Lauretta</span>. And the Argument -imposed, is, Concerning such Wittie deceyvings; -as have, or may be put in practise, by Wives -to their Husbands; Husbands to their Wives: Or -one man towards another.</h4> - -<h4>The Induction.</h4> - - -<p>Earely on the Sonday Morning, -<i>Aurora</i> shewing her selfe bright and -lovely; the Sunnes Golden beames -beganne to appeare, on the toppes of -the neere adjoyning Mountaines; so, -that Hearbes, Plants, Trees, and all -things else, were verie evidently to be -discerned. The Queene and her Companie, being all -come foorth of their Chambers, and having walked a -while abroad, in the goodly greene Meadowes, to taste -the sweetnesse of the fresh and wholesome ayre, they returned -backe againe into the Palace, because it was their -dutie so to do.</p> - -<p>Afterward, betweene the houres of seaven and eight, -they went to heare Masse, in a faire Chappell neere at -hand, and thence returned to their Lodgings. When -they had dined merrily together, they fell to their wonted -singing and dauncing: Which beeing done, such as -were so pleased (by License of the Queene first obtained) -went either to their rest, or such exercises as they tooke -most delight in. When midday, and the heate thereof -was well over-past, so that the aire seemed mild and temperate: -according as the Queene had commanded; they -were all seated againe about the Fountaine, with intent -to prosecute their former pastime. And then Madame -<i>Neiphila</i>, by the charge imposed on her, as first -speaker for this day, beganne as -followeth.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Gulfardo_made_a_match_or_wager_with_the_Wife_of_Gasparuolo_for_the" id="Gulfardo_made_a_match_or_wager_with_the_Wife_of_Gasparuolo_for_the">Gulfardo <i>made a match or wager, with the Wife of</i> Gasparuolo, <i>for the -obtaining of her amorous favour, in regard of a summe of money first to -be given her. The money hee borrowed of her Husband, and gave it in -payment to her, as in case of discharging him from her Husbands debt. -After his returne home from</i> Geneway, <i>hee told him in the presence of -his wife, how he had payde the whole summe to her, with charge of delivering -it to her Husband, which she confessed to be true, albeit greatly -against her will.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The First Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is declared, that such women as will make sale of their honestie, -are sometimes over-reached in their payment, and justly served as they -should be.</i></h4> - - -<p>Seeing it is my fortune, Gracious Ladies, that I must give beginning -to this dayes discoursing, by some such Novel which -I thinke expedient; as duty bindeth me, I am therewith well -contented. And because the deceits of Women to men, have beene at -large and liberally related; I will tell you a subtile tricke of a man to a -Woman. Not that I blame him for the deede, or thinke the deceyte -not well fitted to the woman: but I speake it in a contrarie nature, as -commending the man, and condemning the woman very justly, as also -to shew, how men can as well beguile those crafty companions, which -least beleeve any such cunning in them, as they that stand most on their -artificiall skill.</p> - -<p>Howbeit, to speake more properly, the matter by me to be reported, -deserveth not the reproachfull title of deceite, but rather of a recompence -duly returned: because women ought to be chaste and honest, & -to preserve their honour as their lives, without yeelding to the contamination -thereof, for any occasion whatsoever. And yet (neverthelesse, -in regard of our frailty) many times we proove not so constant as -we should be: yet I am of opinion, that she which selleth her honestie -for money, deserveth justly to be burned. Whereas on the contrary, -she that falleth into the offence, onely through intire affection (the powerfull -lawes of Love beeing above all resistance) in equity meriteth -pardon, especially of a Judge not over-rigorous: as not long since wee -heard from <i>Philostratus</i>, in revealing what hapned to Madam <i>Phillippa -de Prato</i>, upon the dangerous Edict.</p> - -<p>Understand then, my most worthy Auditors, that there lived sometime -in <i>Millaine</i> an <i>Almaigne</i> Soldiour, named <i>Gulfardo</i>, of commendable -carriage in his person, and very faithfull to such as he served, a -matter not common among the <i>Almaignes</i>. And because he made just -repayment, to every one which lent him monies; he grew to such especiall -credit, and was so familiar with the very best Marchants; as (manie -times) he could not be so ready to borrow, as they were willing alwaies -to lend him. He thus continuing in the Cittie of <i>Millaine</i>, fastened his -affection on a verie beautifull Gentlewoman, named Mistresse <i>Ambrosia</i>, -Wife unto a rich Merchant, who was called Signior <i>Gasparuolo Sagastraccio</i>, -who had good knowledge of him, and respectively used him. -Loving this Gentlewoman with great discretion, without the least apprehension -of her husband: he sent upon a day to entreate conference -with her, for enjoying the fruition of her love, and she should find him -ready to fulfill whatsoever she pleased to command him, as, at any time -he would make good his promise.</p> - -<p>The Gentlewoman, after divers of these private solicitings, resolutely -answered, that she was as ready to fulfill the request of <i>Gulfardo</i>, provided, -that two especiall considerations might ensue thereon. First, the -faithfull concealing thereof from any person living. Next, because she -knew him to be rich, and she had occasion to use two hundred Crowns, -about businesse of important consequence: he should freely bestow so -many on her, and (ever after) she was to be commanded by him. <i>Gulfardo</i> -perceiving the covetousnesse of this woman, who (notwithstanding -his doting affection) he thought to be intirely honest to her Husband: -became so deepely offended at her vile answere, that his fervent -love converted into as earnest loathing her; determining constantlie to -deceive her, and to make her avaritious motion, the only means whereby -to effect it.</p> - -<p>He sent her word, that he was willing to performe her request, or any -farre greater matter for her: in which respect, he onely desired for to -know, when she would be pleased to have him come see her, and to receive -the money of him? No creature hee acquainted with his setled -purpose, but onely a deere friend and kinde companion, who alwayes -used to keepe him company, in the neerest occasions that concerned -him. The Gentlewoman, or rather most disloyall wife, uppon this answer -sent her, was extraordinarily jocond and contented, returning him -a secret Letter, wherein she signified: that <i>Gasparuolo</i> her husband, had -important affaires which called him to <i>Geneway</i>: but he should understand -of his departure, and then (with safety) he might come see her, as -also his bringing of the Crownes.</p> - -<p>In the meane while, <i>Gulfardo</i> having determined what he would do, -watched a convenient time, when he went unto <i>Gasparuolo</i>, and sayde: -Sir, I have some businesse of maine importance, and shall neede to use but -two hundred Crownes onely: I desire you to lend me so many Crownes, upon -such profite as you were wont to take of mee, at other times when I have -made use of you, and I shall not faile you at my day.</p> - -<p><i>Gasparuolo</i> was well contented with the motion, and made no more -adoe, but counted downe the Crownes: departing thence (within few -dayes after) for <i>Geneway</i>, acording to his Wives former message; she giving -<i>Gulfardo</i> also intelligence of his absence, that now (with safety) hee -might come see her, and bring the two hundred Crownes with him.</p> - -<p><i>Gulfardo</i>, taking his friend in his company, went to visite Mistresse -<i>Ambrosia</i>, whom he found in expectation of his arrivall, and the first -thing he did, he counted downe the two hundred Crownes; and delivering -them to her in the presence of his friend, saide: Mistresse <i>Ambrosia</i>, -receive these two hundred Crownes, which I desire you to pay unto your -Husband on my behalfe, when he is returned from <i>Geneway. Ambrosia</i>, -receyved the two hundred Crownes, not regarding wherefore <i>Gulfardo</i> -used these words: because shee verily beleeved, that hee spake in -such manner, because his friend should take no notice, of his giving -them to her, upon any covenant passed betweene them; whereuppon, -she sayde. Sir, I will pay them to my Husband for you; and cause him to -give you a sufficient discharge: but first I will count them over my selfe, to -see whether the summe be just, or no. And having drawne them over upon -the Table, the summe containing truly two hundred Crownes (wherewith -she was most highly contented) she lockt them safe uppe in her Cuppe-boord, -and <i>Gulfardoes</i> Friend being gone (as formerly it was compacted -betweene them) shee came to converse more familiarly with him, -having provided a banquet for him. What passed between them afterward, -both then, and oftentimes beside, before her Husbande returned -home, is a matter out of my element, and rather requires my ignorance -then knowledge.</p> - -<p>When <i>Gasparuolo</i> was come from <i>Geneway, Gulfardo</i> observing a -convenient time, when he was sitting at the doore with his Wife; tooke -his Friend with him, and comming to <i>Gasparuolo</i>, said. Worthy Sir, the -two hundred Crownes which you lent me, before your journey to <i>Geneway</i>, -in regard they could not serve my turne, to compasse the businesse for which -I borrowed them: within a day or two after, in the presence of this Gentleman -my friend, I made repayment of them to your wife, and therefore I -pray you crosse me out of your booke.</p> - -<p><i>Gasparuolo</i> turning to his Wife, demanded; Whether it was so, or no? -She beholding the witnesse standing by, who was also present at her -receyving them: durst not make deniall, but thus answered. Indeede -Husband, I received two hundred Crownes of the Gentleman, and never -remembred, to acquaint you therewith since your comming home: but hereafter -I will be made no more your receiver, except I carried a quicker memory.</p> - -<p>Then saide <i>Gasparuolo</i>: Signior <i>Gulfardo</i>, I finde you alwaies a most -honest Gentleman, and will be readie at any time, to doe you the like, or a -farre greater kindnesse; depart at your pleasure, and feare not the crossing -of my Booke. So <i>Gulfardo</i> went away merrily contented, and <i>Ambrosia</i> -was served as she justly merited; she paying the price of her owne leudnesse -to her Husband, which she had a more covetous intent to keepe, -questionlesse, not caring how many like lustfull matches shee coulde -make, to be so liberally rewarded, if this had succeeded to her minde: -whereas he shewed himselfe wise and discreete, in paying nothing -for his pleasure, and requiting a covetous -queane in her -kinde.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="A_lustie_youthfull_Priest_of_Varlungo_fell_in_love_with_a_pretty_woman_named" id="A_lustie_youthfull_Priest_of_Varlungo_fell_in_love_with_a_pretty_woman_named"><i>A lustie youthfull Priest of</i> Varlungo, <i>fell in love with a pretty woman, named</i> -Monna Belcolore. <i>To compasse his amorous desire, hee lefte his -Cloake (as a pledge of further payment) with her. By a subtile sleight -afterward, he made meanes to borrow a Morter of her, which when hee -sent home againe in the presence of her Husband; he demaunded to have -his Cloake sent him, as having left it in pawne for the Morter. To pacifie -her Husband, offended that shee did not lend the Priest the Morter -without a pawne: she sent him backe his Cloake againe, albeit greatly against -her will.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Second Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Approving, that no promise is to be kept with such Women as will make sale -of their honesty for coyne. A warning also for men, not to suffer Priests -to be over familiar with their wives.</i></h4> - - -<p>Both the Gentlemen and Ladies gave equall commendations, -of <i>Gulfardoes</i> queint beguiling the <i>Millaine</i> Gentlewoman -<i>Ambrosia</i>, and wishing all other (of her minde) might alwaies -be so served. Then the Queene, smiling on <i>Pamphilus</i>, commaunded -him to follow next: whereupon, thus he began.</p> - -<p>I can tell you (faire Ladies) a short Novell, against such as are continually -offensive to us, yet we being no way able to offend him; at least, in the -same manner as they do injurie us. And for your better understanding what -and who they be, they are our lusty Priests, who advance their Standard, -and make their publike predications against our wives, winning such advantage -over them, that they can pardon them both of the sinne and punishment, -whensoever they are once subjected unto theyr perswasions, -even as if they brought the Soldane bound and captived, from <i>Alexandria</i> -to <i>Avignon</i>. Which imperious power, we (poore soules) cannot exercise on -them, considering, we have neither heart nor courage, to do our devoire in -just revenge on their Mothers, Sisters, Daughters, and Friends, with the -like spirit as they rise in armes against our wives. And therefore, I meant -to tell you a tale of a Country mans wife, more to make you laugh at the conclusion -thereof; then for any singularity of words or matter: yet this benefite -you may gaine thereby, of an apparant proofe that such Sinamon, amorous -and perswading Priests, are not alwayes to be credited on their words -or promises.</p> - -<p>Let me then tell you, that at <i>Varlungo</i>, which you know to bee not -farre distant hence, there dwelt an youthfull Priest, lustie, gallant, and -proper of person (especially for Womens service) commonly called by -the name of sweet Sir <i>Simon</i>. Now, albeit he was a man of slender reading, -yet notwithstanding, he had store of Latine sentences by heart; -some true, but twice so many maimed and false, Saint-like shewes, holy -speeches, and ghostly admonitions, which hee would preach under an -Oake in the fields, when he had congregated his Parishioners together. -When women lay in childe-bed, hee was their daily comfortable visitant, -and would man them from their houses, when they had any occasion -to walke abroad: carrying alwaies a bottle of holy water about -him, wherewith he would sprinkle them by the way, peeces of hallowed -Candles, and Chrisome Cakes, which pleased women extraordinarily, -and all the Country affoorded not such another frolicke Priest, as -this our nimble and active sweet Sir <i>Simon</i>.</p> - -<p>Among many other of his feminine Parishioners, all of them being -hansome and comely Women: yet there was one more pleasing in his -wanton eye, then any of the rest, named <i>Monna Belcolore</i>, and wife to -a plaine mecanicke man, called <i>Bentivegna del Mazzo</i>. And, to speake -uprightly, few Countrey Villages yeelded a Woman, more fresh and -lovely of complexion, although not admirable for beauty, yet sweete -Sir <i>Simon</i> thought her a Saint, and faine would be offering at her shrine. -Divers pretty pleasing qualities she had, as sounding the Cymball, playing -artificially on the Timbrill, and singing thereto as it had beene a -Nightingale, dancing also so dexteriously, as happy was the man that -could dance in her company. All which so enflamed sweet Sir <i>Simon</i>, -that he lost his wonted sprightly behaviour, walked sullen, sad and melancholly, -as if he had melted all his mettall, because hee could hardly -have a sight of her. But on the Sonday morning, when hee heard or -knew that she was in the Church, hee would tickle it with a <i>Kyrie</i> and a -<i>Sanctus</i>, even as if hee contended to shewe his singular skill in singing, -when it had beene as good to heare an Asse bray. Whereas on the contrary, -when she came not to Church, Masse, and all else were quicklie -shaken uppe, as if his devotion waited onely on her presence. Yet -he was so cunning in the carriage of his amorous businesse, both for her -credite and his owne; as <i>Bentivegna</i> her husband could not perceive it, -or any neighbour so much as suspect it.</p> - -<p>But, to compasse more familiar acquaintance with <i>Belcolore</i>, hee sent -her sundry gifts and presents, day by day, as sometime a bunch of dainty -greene Garlicke, whereof he had plenty growing in his Garden, which -he manured with his owne hands, and better then all the countrey yeelded; -otherwhiles a small basket of Pease or Beanes, and Onyons or -Scallions, as the season served. But when he could come in place where -she was; then he darted amourous wincks and glances at her, with becks, -nods, and blushes, Loves private Ambassadours, which shee (being but -countrey-bred) seeming by outward appearance, not to see, retorted disdainefully, -and forthwith would absent her selfe, so that sweet Sir <i>Simon</i> -laboured still in vaine, and could not compasse what he coveted.</p> - -<p>It came to passe within a while after, that on a time, (about high -noone) Sir <i>Simon</i> being walking abroad, chanced to meete with <i>Bentivegna</i>, -driving an Asse before him, laden with divers commodities, and -demaunding of him, whither he went, <i>Bentivegna</i>, thus answered. In -troth Sir <i>Simon</i>, I am going to the City, about some especiall businesse of -mine owne, and I carry these things to Signior <i>Bonacorci da Cinestreto</i>, -because he should helpe me before the Judge, when I shall be called in question -concerning my patrimony. Sir <i>Simon</i> looking merrily on him, said. Thou -doest well <i>Bentivegna</i>, to make a friend sure before thou need him; goe, take -my blessing with thee, and returne againe with good successe. But if thou -meet with <i>Laguccio</i>, or <i>Naldino</i>, forget not to tell them, that they must -bring me my shooe-tyes before Sunday. <i>Bentivegna</i> said, hee would discharge -his errand, and so parted from him, driving his Asse on towards -<i>Florence</i>.</p> - -<p>Now began Sir <i>Simon</i> to shrug, and scratch his head, thinking this to -be a fit convenient time, for him to goe visite <i>Belcolore</i>, and to make triall -of his fortune: wherefore, setting aside all other businesse, he stayed -no where till he came to the house, whereinto being entred, he saide: -All happinesse be to them that dwell heere. <i>Belcolore</i> being then above in -the Chamber, when she heard his tongue, replyed. Sweet Sir <i>Simon</i>! -you are heartely welcome, whether are you walking, if the question may bee -demaunded? Beleeve me dainty Ducke, answered Sir <i>Simon</i>, I am come -to sit a while with thee, because I met thy Husband going to the Citie. By -this time, <i>Belcolore</i> was descended downe the stayres, and having once -againe given welcome to Sir <i>Simon</i>, she sate downe by him, cleansing -of Colewort seeds from such other course chaffe, which her Husband -had prepared before his departure.</p> - -<p>Sir <i>Simon</i> hugging her in his armes, and fetching a vehement sigh, -said. My <i>Belcolore</i>, how long shall I pine and languish for thy love? How -now Sir <i>Simon</i>? answered she, is this behaviour fitting for an holy man? -Holy-men <i>Belcolore</i>, (quoth Sir <i>Simon</i>) are made of the same matter as -others be, they have the same affections, and therefore subject to their infirmities. -Santa Maria, answered <i>Belcolore</i>, Dare Priests doe such -things as you talke of? Yes <i>Belcolore</i> (quoth he) and much better then other -men can, because they are made for the very best businesse, in which regard -they are restrained from marriage. True (quoth <i>Belcolore</i>) but much -more from meddling with other mens wives. Touch not that Text <i>Belcolore</i>, -replyed Sir <i>Simon</i>, it is somewhat above your capacity: talke of that I -come for, namely thy love, my Ducke, and my Dove. Sir <i>Simon</i> is thine, I -pray thee be mine.</p> - -<p><i>Belcolore</i> observing his smirking behaviour, his proper person, pretty -talke, and queint insinuating; felt a motion to female frailty, which yet -she would withstand so long as she could, and not be over-hasty in her -yeelding. Sir <i>Simon</i> promiseth her a new paire of shoes, garters, ribbands, -girdles, or what else she would request. Sir <i>Simon</i> (quoth she) all -these things which you talke of, are fit for women: but if your love to mee -be such as you make choice of, fulfill what I will motion to you, and then -(perhaps) I shall tell you more. Sir <i>Simons</i> heate made him hasty to promise -whatsoever she would desire; whereupon, thus shee replyed. On -Saturday, said she, I must goe to <i>Florence</i>, to carry home such yarne as was -sent me to spinne, and to amend my spinning wheele: if you will lend mee -ten Florines, wherewith I know you are alwayes furnished, I shall redeeme -from the Usurer my best peticote, and my wedding gowne (both well neere -lost for lacke of repaiment) without which I cannot be seene at Church, or in -any other good place else, and then afterward other matters may be accomplished.</p> - -<p>Alas sweet <i>Belcolore</i> answered Sir <i>Simon</i>, I never beare any such sum -about me, for men of our profession, doe seldome carry any money at all: but -beleeve me on my word, before Saturday come, I will not faile to bring them -hither. Oh Sir (quoth <i>Belcolore</i>) you men are quicke promisers, but slow -performers. Doe you thinke to use me, as poore <i>Billezza</i> was, who trusted -to as faire words, and found her selfe deceived? Now Sir <i>Simon</i>, her example -in being made scandall to the world, is a sufficient warning for me: -if you be not so provided, goe and make use of your friend, for I am not otherwise -to be moved. Nay <i>Belcolore</i> (quoth he) I hope you will not serve -me so, but my word shall be of better worth with you. Consider the conveniency -of time, wee being so privately here alone: whereas at my returning -hither againe, some hinderance may thwart me, and the like opportunity -be never obtained. Sir, Sir, (said she) you have heard my resolution; if -you will fetche the Florines, doe; otherwise, walke about your businesse, for I -am a woman of my word.</p> - -<p>Sir <i>Simon</i> perceiving, that she would not trust him upon bare words, -nor any thing was to be done, without <i>Salvum me fac</i>, whereas his meaning -was <i>Sine custodia</i>; thus answered. Well <i>Belcolore</i>, seeing you dare -not credit my bringing the tenne Florines, according to my promised day: -I will leave you a good pawne, my very best cloake, lyned quite thorough -with rich Silke, and made up in the choysest manner.</p> - -<p><i>Belcolore</i> looking on the Cloake, said. How much may this Cloake bee -worth? How much? quoth Sir <i>Simon</i>, upon my word <i>Belcolore</i>, it is of -a right fine Flanders Serdge, and not above eight dayes since, I bought it thus -(ready made) of <i>Lotto</i> the Fripperer, and payed for it sixe and twenty Florines, -a pledge then sufficient for your ten. Is it possible, said shee, that it -should cost so much? Well, Sir <i>Simon</i>, deliver it me first, I will lay it up safe -for you against Saturday, when if you fetch it not; I will redeeme mine owne -things with it, and leave you to release it your selfe.</p> - -<p>The Cloake is laid up by <i>Belcolore</i>, and Sir <i>Simon</i> so forward in his affection; -that (in briefe) he enjoyed what hee came for; and departed afterward -in his light tripping Cassocke, but yet thorow by-Lanes, and no -much frequented places, smelling on a Nosegay, as if hee had beene at -some wedding in the Countrey, and went thus lightly without his -Cloake, for his better ease. As commonly after actions of evill, Repentance -knocketh at the doore of Conscience, and urgeth a guilty remembrance, -with some sence of sorrow: so was it now with sweet Sir <i>Simon</i>, -who survaying over all his Vailes of offering Candles, the validity of his -yearely benefits, and all comming nothing neere the summe of (scarce -halfe) sixe and twenty Florines; he began to repent his deed of darkenesse, -although it was acted in the day-time, and considered with himselfe, -by what honest (yet unsuspected meanes) hee might recover his -Cloake againe, before it went to the Broaker, in redemption of <i>Belcolores</i> -pawned apparrell, and yet to send her no Florines neither.</p> - -<p>Having a cunning reaching wit, especially in matters for his owne -advantage, and pretending to have a dinner at his lodging, for a few of -some invited friends: he made use of a neighbours Boy, sending him to -the house of <i>Belcolore</i>, with request of lending him her Stone Morter, to -make Greene-sawce in for his guests, because hee had meate required -such sawce. <i>Belcolore</i> suspecting no treachery, sent him the Stone Morter -with the Pestell, and about dinner time, when he knew <i>Bentivegna</i> to -bee at home with his wife, by a spye which was set for the purpose; hee -called the Clearke (usually attending on him) and said. Take this Morter -and Pestell, beare them home to <i>Belcolore</i>, and tell her: Sir <i>Simon</i> -sends them home with thankes, they having sufficiently served his turne, -and desire her likewise, to send me my Cloake, which the Boy left as a -pledge for better remembrance, and because she would not lend it without -a pawne.</p> - -<p>The Clearke comming to the house of <i>Belcolore</i>, found her sitting at -dinner with her Husband, and delivering her the Pestell and Morter, -performed the rest of Sir <i>Simons</i> message. <i>Belcolore</i> hearing the Cloake -demaunded, stept up to make answere: But <i>Bentivegna</i>, seeming (by his -lookes) to be much offended, roughly replyed. Why how now wife? Is not -Sir <i>Simon</i> our especiall friend, and cannot be be pleasured without a pawne? -I protest upon my word, I could find in my heart to smite thee for it. Rise -quickely thou wert best, and send him backe his Cloake; with this warning -hereafter, that whatsoever he will have, be it your poore Asse, or any thing else -being ours, let him have it: and tell him (Master Clearke) he may command it. -<i>Belcolore</i> rose grumbling from the Table, and fetching the Cloake forth -of the Chest, which stood neere at hand in the same roome; shee delivered -it to the Clearke, saying. Tell Sir <i>Simon</i> from me, and boldly say you -heard me speake it: that I made a vow to my selfe, he shall never make use of -my Morter hereafter, to beat any more of his sawcinesse in, let my Husband -say whatsoever he will, I speake the word, and will performe it.</p> - -<p>Away went the Clearke home with the Cloake, and told Sir <i>Simon</i> -what she had said, whereto he replyed. If I must make use of her Morter -no more; I will not trust her with the keeping of my Cloake, for feare it goe -to gage indeed.</p> - -<p><i>Bentivegna</i> was a little displeased at his wives words, because hee -thought she spake but in jest; albeit <i>Belcolore</i> was so angry with Sir <i>Simon</i>, -that she would not speake to him till vintage time following. But -then Sir <i>Simon</i>, what by sharpe threatenings of her soule to be in danger -of hell fire, continuing so long in hatred of a holy Priest, which words -did not a little terrifie her; besides daily presents to her, of sweet new -Wines, roasted Chesse-nuts, Figges and Almonds: all unkindnesse became -converted to former familiarity; the garments were redeemed; -he gave her Sonnets which she would sweetly sing to -her Cimbale, and further friendship increased -betweene her and sweet Sir <i>Simon.</i></p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Calandrino_Bruno_and_Buffalmaco_all_of_them_being_Painters_by" id="Calandrino_Bruno_and_Buffalmaco_all_of_them_being_Painters_by">Calandrino, Bruno, <i>and</i> Buffalmaco, <i>all of them being Painters by -profession, travelled to the Plaine of</i> Mugnone, <i>to finde the precious -Stone called</i> Helitropium. Calandrino <i>perswaded himselfe to -have found it; returned home to his house heavily loaden with -stones. His Wife rebuking him for his absence, hee groweth into -anger, and shrewdly beateth her. Afterward, when the case is debated -among his other friends</i> Bruno <i>and</i> Buffalmaco, <i>all is found -to be meere foolery.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Third Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Justly reprehending the simplicity of such men, as are too much addicted -to credulitie, and will give credit to every thing they -heare.</i></h4> - - -<p><i>Pamphilus</i> having ended his Novell, whereat the Ladies -laughed exceedingly, so that very hardly they could give -over: The Queene gave charge to Madame <i>Eliza</i>, that -shee should next succeed in order; when, being scarcely able to refraine -from smyling, thus she began.</p> - -<p>I know not (Gracious Ladies) whether I can move you to as hearty -laughter, with a briefe Novell of mine owne, as <i>Pamphilus</i> lately -did with his: yet I dare assure you, that it is both true and pleasant, -and I will relate it in the best manner I can.</p> - -<p>In our owne Citie, which evermore hath contained all sorts of people, -not long since there dwelt, a Painter, named <i>Calandrino</i>, a simple -man; yet as much addicted to matters of novelty, as any man whatsoever -could be. The most part of his time, he spent in the company of two other -Painters, the one called <i>Bruno</i>, and the other <i>Buffalmaco</i>, men of very -recreative spirits, and of indifferent good capacity; often resorting to -the said <i>Calandrino</i>, because they tooke delight in his honest simplicity, -and pleasant order of behaviour. At the same time likewise, there -dwelt in <i>Florence</i>, a young Gentleman of singular disposition, to every -generous and witty conceite, as the world did not yeeld a more pleasant -companion, he being named <i>Maso del Saggio</i>, who having heard somwhat -of <i>Calandrinos</i> sillinesse: determined to jest with him in merry -manner, and to suggest his longing humors after Novelties, with some -conceit of extraordinary nature.</p> - -<p>He happening (on a day) to meete him in the Church of Saint -<i>John</i>, and seeing him seriously busied, in beholding the rare pictures, -and the curious carved Tabernacle, which (not long before) was -placed on the high Altar in the said Church: considered with himselfe, -that he had now fit place and opportunity, to effect what hee -had long time desired. And having imparted his minde to a very -intimate friend, how he intended to deale with simple <i>Calandrino</i>: -they went both very neere him, where he sate all alone, and making -shew as if they saw him not; began to consult between themselves, -concerning the rare properties of precious stones; whereof <i>Maso</i> -discoursed as exactly, as he had beene a most skilfull Lapidarie; to -which conference of theirs, <i>Calandrino</i> lent an attentive eare, in regard -it was matter of singular rarity.</p> - -<p>Soone after, <i>Calandrino</i> started up, and perceiving by their loude -speaking, that they talked of nothing which required secret Counsell: -he went into their company (the onely thing which <i>Maso</i> desired) -and holding on still the former Argument; <i>Calandrino</i> would -needs request to know, in what place these precious stones were to -be found, which had such excellent vertues in them? <i>Maso</i> made -answere, that the most of them were to be had in <i>Berlinzona</i>, neere -to the City of <i>Bascha</i>, which was in the Territory of a Countrey, -called <i>Bengodi</i>, where the Vines were bound about with Sawcidges, -a Goose was sold for a penny, and the Goslings freely given in -to boote. There was also an high mountaine, wholly made of <i>Parmezane</i>, -grated Cheese, whereon dwelt people, who did nothing -else but make <i>Mocharones</i> and <i>Raviuolies</i>, boiling them with broth -of Capons, and afterward hurled them all about, to whosoever can -or will catch them. Neere to this mountaine runneth a faire River, -the whole streame being pure white Bastard, none such was ever -sold for any money, and without one drop of water in it.</p> - -<p>Now trust me Sir, (said <i>Calandrino</i>) that is an excellent Countrey -to dwell in: but I pray you tell me Sir, what doe they with the Capons -after they have boyld them? The <i>Baschanes</i> (quoth <i>Maso</i>) eate them -all. Have you Sir, said <i>Calandrino</i>, at any time beene in that Countrey? -How? answered <i>Maso</i>, doe you demaund if I have beene there? -Yes man, above a thousand times, at the least. How farre Sir, I pray -you (quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) is that worthy Countrey, from this our City? -In troth replyed <i>Maso</i>, the miles are hardly to be numbred, for the -most part of them we travell when we are nightly in our beddes, -and if a man dreame right; he may be there upon a sudden.</p> - -<p>Surely Sir, said <i>Calandrino</i>, it is further hence, then to <i>Abruzzi</i>? -Yes questionlesse, replyed <i>Maso</i>; but, to a willing minde, no travell -seemeth tedious.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> well noting, that <i>Maso</i> delivered all these speeches, -with a stedfast countenance, no signe of smyling, or any gesture to -urge the least mislike: he gave such credit to them, as to any matter -of apparent and manifest truth, and upon this assured confidence, he -said.</p> - -<p>Beleeve me Sir, the journey is over-farre for mee to undertake, -but if it were neerer; I could affoord to goe in your Company; onely -to see how they make these <i>Macherones</i>, and to fill my belly with -them.</p> - -<p>But now wee are in talke Sir, I pray you pardon mee to aske, whether -any such precious stones, as you spake off, are to be found in that -Countrey, or no? Yes indeed, replyed <i>Maso</i>, there are two kinds of them -to be found in those Territories, both being of very great vertue. One -kind, are gritty stones, of <i>Settignano</i>, and of <i>Montisca</i>, by vertue of -which places, when any Mill-stones or Grind-stones are to bee made, -they knede the sand as they use to doe meale, and so make them of what -bignesse they please. In which respect, they have have a common saying -there: that Nature maketh common stones, but <i>Montisca</i> Mill-stones. -Such plenty are there of these Mill-stones, so slenderly here esteemed among -us, as Emeralds are with them, whereof they have whole mountaines, -farre greater then our <i>Montemorello</i>, which shine most gloriously -at midnight. And how meanly soever we account of their Mill-stones; -yet there they drill them, and enchase them in Rings, which afterward -they send to the great Soldane, and have whatsoever they will -demaund for them.</p> - -<p>The other kinde is a most precious Stone indeede, which our best Lapidaries -call the <i>Helitropium</i>, the vertue whereof is so admirable; -as whosoever beareth it about him, so long as he keepeth it, it is impossible -for any eye to discerne him, because he walketh meerely invisible. O -Lord Sir (quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) these stones are of rare vertue indeede: -but where else may a man finde that <i>Helitropium</i>? Whereto <i>Maso</i> -thus answered: That Countrey onely doth not containe the <i>Helitropium</i>; -for they be many times found upon our plaine of <i>Mugnone</i>. -Of what bignesse Sir (quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) is the Stone, and what coulour? -The <i>Helitropium</i>, answered <i>Maso</i>, is not alwayes of one quality, -because some are bigge, and others lesse; but all are of one coulour, -namely blacke.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> committing all these things to respective memory, -and pretending to be called thence by some other especiall affaires; -departed from <i>Maso</i>, concluding resolvedly with himselfe, to finde -this precious stone, if possibly hee could: yet intending to doe nothing, -untill hee had acquainted <i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i> therewith, -whom he loved dearly: he went in all hast to seeke them; because, -(without any longer trifling the time) they three might bee the first -men, that should find out this precious stone, spending almost the -whole morning, before they were all three met together. For they -were painting at the Monastery of the Sisters of <i>Faenza</i>, where they -had very serious imployment, and followed their businesse diligently: -where having found them, and saluting them in such kinde -manner, as continually he used to doe, thus he began.</p> - -<p>Loving friends, if you were pleased to follow mine advise, wee three -will quickely be the richest men in <i>Florence</i>; because, by information -from a Gentleman (well deserving to be credited) on the Plaine of -<i>Mugnone</i>: there is a precious stone to be found, which whosoever carrieth -it about him, walketh invisible, and is not to be seene by any one. -Let us three be the first men to goe and finde it, before any other heare -thereof, and goe about it, and assure our selves that we shall finde it, for -I know it (by discription) so soone as I see it. And when wee have it, -who can hinder us from bearing it about us. Then will we goe to the -Tables of our Bankers, or money changers, which we see daily charged -with plenty of gold and silver, where we may take so much as wee list, -for they (nor any) are able to descrie us. So, (in short time) shall wee -all be wealthy, never needing to drudge any more, or paint muddy -walles, as hitherto we have done; and, as many of our poore profession -are forced to doe.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i> hearing this, began to smile, and looking -merrily each on other, they seemed to wonder thereat, and greatly -commended the counsell of <i>Calandrino. Buffalmaco</i> demaunding -how the stone was named. Now it fortuned, that <i>Calandrino</i> (who -had but a grosse and blockish memory) had quite forgot the name -of the stone, and therefore said. What neede have wee of the name, -when we know, and are assured of the stones vertue? Let us make no -more adoe, but (setting aside all other businesse) goe seeke where it is to -be found. Well my friend (answered <i>Bruno</i>) you say wee may find it, -but how, and by what meanes?</p> - -<p>There are two sorts of them (quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) some bigge, others -smaller, but all carry a blacke colour: therefore (in mine opinion) let -us gather all such stones as are blacke, so shall we be sure to finde it among -them, without any further losse of time.</p> - -<p><i>Buffalmaco</i> and <i>Bruno</i>, liked and allowed the counsell of <i>Calandrino</i>, -which when they had (by severall commendations) given him -assurance of, <i>Bruno</i> saide. I doe not thinke it a convenient time now, -for us to go about so weighty a businesse: for the Sun is yet in the highest -degree, and striketh such a heate on the plaine of <i>Mugnone</i>, as all -the stones are extreamly dryed, and the very blackest will nowe seeme -whitest. But in the morning, after the dew is falne, and before the -Sunne shineth forth, every stone retaineth his true colour. Moreover, -there be many Labourers now working on the plaine, about such businesse -as they are severally assigned, who seeing us in so serious a serch: -may imagine what we seeke for, & partake with us in the same inquisition, -by which meanes they may chance to speed before us, and so wee -may lose both our trot and amble. Wherefore, by my consent, if your -opinion jumpe with mine, this is an enterprise onely to be perfourmed -in an early morning, when the blacke stones are to be distinguisht from -the white, and a Festivall day were the best of all other, for then there -will be none to discover us.</p> - -<p><i>Buffalmaco</i> applauded the advice of <i>Bruno</i>, and <i>Calandrino</i> did -no lesse, concluding all together; that Sunday morning (next ensuing) -should be the time, and then they all three would go seeke the -Stone. But <i>Calandrino</i> was verie earnest with them, that they shold -not reveale it to any living body, because it was tolde him as an especiall -secret: disclosing further to them, what hee had heard concerning -the Countrey of <i>Bengodi</i>, maintaining (with solemn oaths -and protestations) that every part thereof was true. Uppon this agreement, -they parted from <i>Calandrino</i>, who hardly enjoyed anie -rest at all, either by night or day, so greedie he was to bee possessed -of the stone. On the Sonday morning, hee called up his Companions -before breake of day, and going forth at S. <i>Galls</i> Port, they stayed -not, till they came to the plaine of <i>Mugnone</i>, where they searched -all about to finde this strange stone.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> went stealing before the other two, and verilie perswaded -himselfe, that he was borne to finde the <i>Helitropium</i>, and -looking on every side about him, hee rejected all other Stones but -the blacke, whereof first he filled his bosome, and afterwards, both -his Pockets. Then he tooke off his large painting Apron, which -he fastened with his girdle in the manner of a sacke, and that he filled -full of stones likewise. Yet not so satisfied, he spred abroad his -Cloake, which being also full of stones, hee bound it up carefully, -for feare of loosing the very least of them. All which <i>Buffalmaco</i> -and <i>Bruno</i> well observing (the day growing on, and hardly they -could reach home by dinner time) according as merrily they had -concluded, and pretending not to see <i>Calandrino</i>, albeit he was not -farre from them: What is become of <i>Calandrino</i>? saide <i>Buffalmaco. -Bruno</i> gazing strangely every where about him, as if hee were desirous -to finde him, replyed. I saw him not long since, for then he was -hard by before us; questionlesse, he hath given us the slippe, is privilie -gone home to dinner, and making starke fooles of us, hath lefte us to -picke up blacke stones, upon the parching plaines of <i>Mugnone</i>. Well -(quoth <i>Buffalmaco</i>) this is but the tricke of an hollow-hearted friend, -and not such as he protested himselfe to be, to us. Could any but wee -have bin so sottish, to credit his frivolous perswasions, hoping to finde any -stones of such vertue, and here on the fruitlesse plains of <i>Mugnone</i>? -No, no, none but we would have beleeved him.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> (who was close by them) hearing these wordes, and -seeing the whole manner of their wondering behaviour: became -constantly perswaded, that hee had not onely founde the precious -stone; but also had some store of them about him, by reason he was -so neere to them, and yet they could not see him, therefore he walked -before them. Now was his joy beyond all compasse of expression, -and being exceedingly proud of so happy an adventure: did -not meane to speake one word to them, but (heavily laden as hee -was) to steale home faire and softly before them, which indeede he -did, leaving them to follow after, if they would. <i>Bruno</i> perceiving -his intent, said to <i>Buffalmaco</i>: What remaineth now for us to doe? -Why should not we go home, as well as hee? And reason too, replyed -<i>Bruno</i>, It is in vaine to tarry any longer heere: but I solemnly protest, -<i>Calandrino</i> shall no more make an Asse of me: and were I now as neere -him, as not long since I was, I would give him such a remembrance on -the heele with this Flint stone, as should sticke by him this moneth, to -teach him a lesson for abusing his friends.</p> - -<p>Hee threw the stone, and hit him shrewdly on the heele therewith; -but all was one to <i>Calandrino</i>, whatsoever they saide, or did, -as thus they still followed after him. And although the blow of the -stone was painfull to him; yet he mended his pace so wel as he was -able, in regard of beeing over-loaden with stones, and gave them -not one word all the way, because he tooke himselfe to bee invisible, -and utterly unseene of them. <i>Buffalmaco</i> taking uppe another -Flint-stone, which was indifferent heavie and sharp, said to <i>Bruno</i>. -Seest thou this Flint? Casting it from him, he smote <i>Calandrino</i> just -in the backe therewith, saying. Oh that <i>Calandrino</i> had bin so neere, -as I might have hit him on the backe with the stone. And thus all the -way on the plaine of <i>Mugnone</i>, they did nothing else but pelt him -with stones, even so farre as the Port of S. <i>Gall</i>, where they threwe -downe what other stones they had gathered, meaning not to molest -him any more, because they had done enough already.</p> - -<p>There they stept before him unto the Port, and acquainted the -Warders with the whole matter, who laughing heartily at the jest, -the better to upholde it; would seeme not to see <i>Calandrino</i> in his -passage by them, but suffered him to go on, sore wearied with his -burthen, and sweating extreamly. Without resting himselfe in any -place, he came home to his house, which was neere to the corner -of the Milles, Fortune being so favourable to him in the course -of this mockery, that as he passed along the Rivers side, and afterward -through part of the City; he was neither met nor seen by any, -in regard they were all in their houses at dinner.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i>, every minute ready to sinke under his weightie burthen, -entred into his owne house, where (by great ill luck) his wife, -being a comely and very honest woman, and named <i>Monna Trista</i>, -was standing aloft on the stayres head. She being somewhat angry -for his so long absence, and seeing him come in grunting and groaning, -frowningly said. I thought that the divell would never let thee -come home, all the whole Citie have dined, and yet wee must remaine -without our dinner. When <i>Calandrino</i> heard this, & perceived that -he was not invisible to his Wife: full of rage and wroth, hee began -to raile, saying. Ah thou wicked woman, where art thou? Thou hast -utterly undone me: but (as I live) I will pay thee soundly for it. Up -the staires he ascended into a small Parlour, where when he hadde -spred all his burthen of stones on the floore: he ran to his wife, catching -her by the haire of the head, and throwing her at his feete; -giving her so many spurns and cruel blowes, as shee was not able to -moove either armes or legges, notwithstanding all her teares, and -humble submission.</p> - -<p>Now <i>Buffalmaco</i> and <i>Bruno</i>, after they had spent an indifferent -while, with the Warders at the Port in laughter; in a faire & gentle -pace, they followed <i>Calandrino</i> home to his house, and being come -to the doore, they heard the harsh bickering betweene him and his -Wife, and seeming as if they were but newly arrived, they called -out alowd to him. <i>Calandrino</i> being in a sweate, stamping and raving -still at his Wife: looking forth of the window, entreated them -to ascend up to him, which they did, counterfetting greevous displeasure -against him. Being come into the roome, which they saw -all covered over with stones, his Wife sitting in a corner, all the -haire (well-neere) torne off her head, her face broken and bleeding, -and all her body cruelly beaten; on the other side, <i>Calandrino</i> standing -unbraced and ungirded, strugling and wallowing, like a man -quite out of breath: after a little pausing, <i>Bruno</i> thus spake.</p> - -<p>Why how now <i>Calandrino</i>? What may the meaning of this matter -be? What, art thou preparing for building, that thou hast provided -such plenty of stones? How sitteth thy poore wife? How hast thou misused -her? Are these the behaviours of a wise or honest man? <i>Calandrino</i>, -utterly over-spent with travaile, and carrying such an huge -burthen of stones, as also the toylesome beating of his Wife, (but -much more impatient and offended, for that high good Fortune, -which he imagined to have lost:) could not collect his spirits together, -to answer them one ready word, wherefore hee sate fretting -like a mad man. Whereupon, <i>Buffalmaco</i> thus began to him. <i>Calandrino</i>, -if thou be angry with any other, yet thou shouldest not have -made such a mockery of us, as thou hast done: in leaving us (like a couple -of coxcombes) to the plaine of <i>Mugnone</i>, whether thou leddest us -with thee, to seeke a precious stone called <i>Helitropium</i>. And couldst -thou steale home, never bidding us so much as farewell? How can we -but take it in very evill part, that thou shouldest so abuse two honest -neighbours? Well, assure thy selfe, this is the last time that ever thou -shalt serve us so.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> (by this time) being somewhat better come to himselfe, -with an humble protestation of courtesie, returned them this -answer. Alas my good friends, be not you offended, the case is farre otherwise -then you immagine. Poore unfortunate man that I am, I -found the rare precious stone that you speake of: and marke me well, if I -do not tell you the truth of all. When you asked one another (the first -time) what was become of me; I was hard by you: at the most, within -the distance of two yards length; and perceiving that you saw mee not, -(being still so neere, and alwaies before you:) I went on, smiling to my -selfe, to heare you brabble and rage against me.</p> - -<p>So, proceeding on in his discourse, he recounted every accident -as it hapned, both what they had saide and did unto him, concerning -the severall blowes, with the two Flint-stones, the one hurting -him greevously in the heele, and the other paining him as extreamly -in the backe, with their speeches used then, and his laughter, -notwithstanding hee felt the harme of them both, yet beeing -proud that he did so invisibly beguile them. Nay more (quoth he) -I cannot forbeare to tell you, that when I passed thorow the Port, I saw -you standing with the Warders; yet, by vertue of that excellent Stone, -undiscovered of you all. Beside, going along the streets, I met many of -my Gossips, friends, and familiar acquaintance, such as used daylie to -converse with me, and drinking together in every Tavern: yet not one -of them spake to me, neyther used any courtesie or salutation; which -(indeede) I did the more freely forgive them, because they were not able -to see me.</p> - -<p>In the end of all, when I was come home into mine owne house, this -divellish and accursed woman, being aloft uppon my stayres head, by -much misfortune chanced to see me; in regard (as it is not unknowne -to you) that women cause all things to lose their vertue. In which respect, -I that could have stild my selfe the onely happy man in <i>Florence</i>, -am now made most miserable. And therefore did I justly beate her, so -long as she was able to stand against mee, and I know no reason to the -contrary, why I should not yet teare her in a thousand peeces: for I may -well curse the day of our mariage, to hinder and bereave me of such an -invisible blessednesse.</p> - -<p><i>Buffalmaco</i> and <i>Bruno</i> hearing this, made shew of verie much -mervailing thereat, and many times maintained what <i>Calandrino</i> -had said; being well neere ready to burst with laughter; considering, -how confidently he stood upon it, that he had found the wonderful -stone, and lost it by his wives speaking onely to him. But -when they saw him rise in fury once more, with intent to beat her -againe: then they stept betweene them; affirming, That the woman -had no way offended in this case, but rather he himself: who knowing -that women cause all things to lose their vertue, had not therefore expresly -commanded her, not to be seene in his presence all that day, untill -he had made full proofe of the stones vertue. And questionles, the -consideration of a matter so available and important, was quite taken -from him, because such an especiall happinesse, should not belong to -him only; but (in part) to his friends, whom he had acquainted therewith, -drew them to the plaine with him in companie, where they -tooke as much paines in serch of the stone, as possibly he did, or could; -and yet (dishonestly) he would deceive them, and beare it away covetously, -for his owne private benefit.</p> - -<p>After many other, as wise and wholesome perswasions, which -he constantly credited, because they spake them, they reconciled -him to his wife, and she to him: but not without some difficulty in -him; who falling into wonderfull greefe and melancholy, for losse -of such an admirable precious stone, was in danger to have dyed, -within lesse then a month after.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="The_Provost_belonging_to_the_Cathedrall_Church_of_Fiesola_fell_in_love" id="The_Provost_belonging_to_the_Cathedrall_Church_of_Fiesola_fell_in_love"><i>The Provost belonging to the Cathedrall Church of</i> Fiesola, <i>fell in love -with a Gentlewoman, being a widdow, and named</i> Piccarda, <i>who -hated him as much as he loved her. He imagining, that he lay with -her: by the Gentlewomans Bretheren, and the Byshop under whom -he served, was taken in bed with her Mayde, an ugly, foule, deformed -Slut.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Fourth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is declared, how love oftentimes is so powerfull in aged men, -and driveth them to such doating, that it redoundeth to their great -disgrace and punishment.</i></h4> - - -<p>Ladie <i>Eliza</i> having concluded her Novell, not without infinite -commendations of the whole company: the Queen -turning her lookes to Madame <i>Æmillia</i>, gave her such an -expresse signe, as she must needs follow next after Madame <i>Eliza</i>, -whereupon she began in this manner.</p> - -<p>Vertuous Ladies, I very well remember (by divers Novels formerly -related) that sufficient hath beene sayde, concerning Priests and Religious -persons, and all other carrying shaven Crownes, in their luxurious -appetites and desires. But because no one can at any time say so -much, as thereto no more may be added: beside them alreadie spoken -of, I wil tel you another concerning the Provost of a Cathedrall Church, -who would needes (in despight of all the world) love a Gentlewoman -whether she would or no: and therefore, in due chastisement both unto -his age and folly, she gave him such entertainment as he justly deserved.</p> - -<p>It is not unknowne unto you all, that the Cittie of <i>Fiesola</i>, the -mountaine whereof we may very easily hither discerne, hath bene -(in times past) a very great and most ancient City: although at this -day it is well-neere all ruined: yet neverthelesse, it alwaies was, and -yet is a Byshops See, albeit not of the wealthiest. In the same Citie, -and no long while since, neere unto the Cathedrall Church, -there dwelt a Gentlewoman, being a Widdow, and commonlie -there stiled by the name of Madame <i>Piccarda</i>, whose house and inheritance -was but small, wherewith yet she lived very contentedly -(having no wandering eye, or wanton desires) and no company -but her two Brethren, Gentlemen of especiall honest and gracious -disposition.</p> - -<p>This Gentlewoman, being yet in the flourishing condition of -her time, did ordinarily resort to the Cathedrall Church, in holie -zeale, and religious devotion; where the Provost of the place, became -so enamored of her, as nothing (but the sight of her) yeelded -him any contentment. Which fond affection of his, was forwarded -with such an audacious and bold carriage, as hee dared to -acquaint her with his love, requiring her enterchange of affection, -and the like opinion of him, as he had of her. True it is, that he was -very farre entred into yeares, but young and lustie in his own proud -conceite, presuming strangely beyond his capacity, and thinking as -well of his abilitie, as the youthfullest gallant in the World could -doe. Whereas (in verie deede) his person was utterly displeasing, -his behaviour immodest and scandalous, and his usuall Language, -favouring of such sensualitie, as, very fewe or none cared -for his company. And if any Woman seemed respective of him, -it was in regard of his outside and profession, and more for feare, -then the least affection, and alwayes as welcome to them, as the -head-ake.</p> - -<p>His fond and foolish carriage stil continuing to this Gentlewoman; -she being wise and vertuously advised, spake thus unto him. -Holy Sir, if you love me according as you protest, & manifest by your -outward behaviour: I am the more to thanke you for it, being bound -in dutie to love you likewise. But if your Love have any harshe or unsavourie -taste, which mine is no way able to endure, neyther dare -entertaine in anie kinde whatsoever: you must and shall hold mee excused, -because I am made of no such temper. You are my ghostly and -spirituall Father, an Holy Priest. Moreover, yeares have made you honourably -aged; all which severall weighty considerations, ought to confirme -you in continency & chastity. Remember withall (good sir) that I -am but a child to you in years, & were I bent to any wanton appetites, -you shold justly correct me by fatherly counsell, such as most beautifieth -your sacred profession. Beside, I am a Widdow, and you are not ignorant, -how requisite a thing honestie is in widdowes. Wherefore, pardon -mee (Holy Father:) for, in such manner as you make the motion: I -desire you not to love mee, because I neither can or will at any time so -affect you.</p> - -<p>The Provoste gaining no other grace at this time, would not so -give over for this first repulse, but pursuing her still with unbeseeming -importunity; many private meanes he used to her by Letters, -tokens, and insinuating ambassages; yea, whensoever shee came to -the Church, he never ceased his wearisome solicitings. Whereat -she growing greatly offended, and perceyving no likelyhood of his -desisting; became so tyred with his tedious suite, that she considered -with her selfe, how she might dispatch him as he deserved, because -she saw no other remedy. Yet shee would not attempte anie -thing in this case, without acquainting her Bretheren first therewith. -And having tolde them, how much shee was importuned by the -Provost, and also what course she meant to take (wherein they both -counselled and encouraged her:) within a few daies after, shee went -to Church as she was wont to do; where so soone as the Provost espyed -her: forthwith he came to her, and according to his continued -course, he fell into his amorous courting. She looking upon him -with a smiling countenance, and walking aside with him out of any -hearing: after he had spent many impertinent speeches, shee (venting -foorth manie a vehement sighe) at length returned him this -answer.</p> - -<p>Reverend Father, I have often heard it saide: That there is not any -Fort or Castle, how strongly munited soever it bee; but by continuall -assayling, at length (of necessity) it must and will be surprized. Which -comparison, I may full well allude to my selfe. For, you having so long -time solicited me, one while with affable language, then againe with -tokens and entisements, of such prevailing power: as have broken the -verie barricado of my former deliberation, and yeelded mee uppe -as your prisoner, to be commanded at your pleasure, for now I am onely -devoted yours.</p> - -<p>Well may you (Gentle Ladies) imagine, that this answere was -not a little welcome to the Provost; who, shrugging with conceyte -of joy, presently thus replyed. I thanke you Madame <i>Piccarda</i>, and -to tell you true, I held it almost as a miracle, that you could stand upon -such long resistance, considering, it never so fortuned to mee with anie -other. And I have many times saide to my selfe, that if women were -made of silver, they hardly could be worth a pennie, because there can -scarsely one be found of so good allay, as to endure the test and essay. But -let us breake off this frivolous conference, and resolve upon a conclusion; -How, when and where we may safely meete together. Worthy Sir, -answered <i>Piccarda</i>, your selfe may appoint the time whensoever you -please, because I have no Husband, to whom I should render any account -of my absence, or presence: but I am not provided of any place.</p> - -<p>A pretty while the Provoste stood musing, and at last saide. A -place Madame? where can be more privacie, then in your owne house? -Alas Sir (quoth she) you know that I have two Gentlemen my brethren -who continually are with me, & other of their friends beside: My -house also is not great, wherefore it is impossible to be there, except you -could be like a dumbe man, without speaking one word, or making the -very least noyse; beside, to remaine in darkenesse, as if you were blinde, -and who can be able to endure all these? And yet (without these) there -is no adventuring, albeit they never come into my Chamber: but their -lodging is so close to mine, as there cannot any word be spoken, be it never -so low or in whispering manner, but they heare it very easily. Madame -said the Provoste, for one or two nights, I can make hard shift. -Why Sir (quoth she) the matter onely remaineth in you, for if you be -silent and suffering, as already you have heard, there is no feare at all -of safty. Let me alone Madame, replyed the Provoste, I will bee governed -by your directions: but, in any case, let us begin this night. -With all my heart, saide shee. So appointing him how and when hee -should come; hee parted from her, and shee returned home to her -house.</p> - -<p>Heere I am to tell you, that this Gentlewoman had a servant, in -the nature of an old maide, not indued with any well featured face, -but instead thereof, she had the ugliest and most counterfeit countenance, -as hardly could be seene a worse. She had a wrie mouth, -huge great lippes, foule teeth, great and blacke, a monstrous stinking -breath, her eyes bleared, and alwayes running, the complexion -of her face betweene greene and yellow, as if shee had not spent the -Summer season in the Citie, but in the parching Countrey under a -hedge; and beside all these excellent parts, shee was crooke backt, -poult footed, and went like a lame Mare in Fetters. Her name was -<i>Ciuta</i>, but in regard of her flat nose, lying as low as a Beagles, shee -was called <i>Ciutazza</i>. Now, notwithstanding all this deformity in -her, yet she had a singuler opinion of her selfe, as commonly all such -foule Sluts have: in regard whereof, Madame <i>Piccarda</i> calling her -aside, Thus began.</p> - -<p><i>Ciutazza</i>, if thou wilt doe for me one nights service, I shall bestow on -thee a faire new Smocke. When <i>Ciutazza</i> heard her speake of a -new Smocke, instantly she answered. Madame, if you please to bestow -a new Smocke on me, were it to runne thorow the fire for you, or any -businesse of farre greater danger, you onely have the power to command -me, and I will doe it. I will not (said <i>Piccarda</i>) urge thee to -any dangerous action, but onely to lodge in my bed this night with a -man, and give him courteous entertainement, who shall reward thee -liberally for it. But have an especiall care that thou speake not one -word, for feare thou shouldst be heard by my Brethren, who (as thou -knowest) lodge so neere by: doe this, and then demaund thy Smocke of -me. Madame (quoth <i>Ciutazza</i>) if it were to lye with sixe men, rather -then one; if you say the word, it shall be done.</p> - -<p>When night was come, the Provoste also came according to appointment, -even when the two brethren were in their lodging, -where they easily heard his entrance, as <i>Piccarda</i> (being present -with them) had informed them. In went the Provoste without any -candle, or making the least noise to be heard, & being in <i>Piccardaes</i> -Chamber, went to bed: <i>Ciutazza</i> tarrying not long from him, but -(as her Mistresse had instructed her) she went to bed likewise, not -speaking any word at all, and the Provoste, imagining to have her -there, whom he so highly affected, fell to imbracing and kissing <i>Ciutazza</i>, -who was as forward in the same manner to him, and there for -a while I intend to leave them.</p> - -<p>When <i>Piccarda</i> had performed this hot piece of businesse, she referred -the effecting of the remainder to her Brethren, in such sort as -it was compacted betweene them. Faire and softly went the two -brethren forth of their Chamber, and going to the Market place, -Fortune was more favourable to them then they could wish, in accomplishing -the issue of their intent. For the heat being somwhat tedious, -the Lord Bishop was walking abroad very late, with purpose -to visit the Brethren at the Widdowes house, because he tooke great -delight in their company, as being good Schollers, and endued with -other singular parts beside. Meeting with them in the open Market -place, he acquainted them with his determination; whereof they -were not a little joyfull, it jumping so justly with their intent.</p> - -<p>Being come to the Widdowes house, they passed through a small -nether Court, where lights stood ready to welcome him thither; -and entring into a goodly Hall, there was store of good wine and -banquetting, which the Bishop accepted in very thankefull manner: -and courteous complement being overpassed, one of the Brethren, -thus spake. My good Lord, seeing it hath pleased you to honour our -poore Widdowed Sisters house with your presence, for which wee shall -thanke you while we live: We would intreate one favour more of you, -onely but to see a sight which we will shew you. The Lord Bishop was -well contented with the motion: so the Brethren conducting him -by the hand, brought him into their Sisters Chamber, where the -the Provoste was in bed with <i>Ciutazza</i>, both soundly sleeping, but -enfolded in his armes, as wearied (belike) with their former wantonning, -and whereof his age had but little need.</p> - -<p>The Courtaines being close drawne about the bed, although the -season was exceeding hot, they having lighted Torches in their -hands; drew open the Curtaines, and shewed the Bishop his Provoste, -close snugging betweene the armes of <i>Ciutazza</i>. Upon a -sudden the Provoste awaked, and seeing so great a light, as also so -many people about him: shame and feare so daunted him, that hee -shrunke downe into the bed, and hid his head. But the Bishop being -displeased at a sight so unseemely, made him to discover his head -againe, to see whom he was in bed withall. Now the poore Provoste -perceiving the Gentlewomans deceite, and the proper hansome -person so sweetly embracing him: it made him so confounded -with shame, as he had not the power to utter one word: but -having put on his cloathes by the Bishops command, hee sent him -(under sufficient guard) to his Pallace, to suffer due chastisement for -his sinne committed; and afterward he desired to know, by what -meanes hee became so favoured of <i>Ciutazza</i>, the whole Historie -whereof, the two brethren related at large to him.</p> - -<p>When the Bishop had heard all the discourse, highly he commended -the wisedome of the Gentlewoman, and worthy assistance of -her brethren, who contemning to soile their hands in the blood of a -Priest, rather sought to shame him as hee deserved. The Bishop -enjoyned him a pennance of repentance for forty dayes after, but -love and disdaine made him weepe nine and forty: Moreover, it -was a long while after, before he durst be seene abroad. But when -he came to walke the streets, the Boyes would point their fingers at -him, saying. Behold the Provoste that lay with <i>Ciutazza</i>: Which -was such a wearisome life to him, that he became (well neere) distracted -in his wits. In this manner the honest Gentlewoman discharged -her dutie, and rid her selfe of the Provosts importunity: -<i>Ciutazza</i> had a merry night of it, and a new Smocke also for her labour.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Three_pleasant_Companions_plaide_a_merry_pranke_with_a_Judge_belonging" id="Three_pleasant_Companions_plaide_a_merry_pranke_with_a_Judge_belonging"><i>Three pleasant Companions, plaide a merry pranke with a Judge (belonging -to the Marquesate of</i> Ancona) <i>at</i> Florence, <i>at such time as -he sate on the Bench, and hearing criminall causes.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Fift Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Giving admonition, that for the managing of publique affaires, no other -persons are or ought to be appointed, but such as be honest, and -meet to sit on the seate of Authority.</i></h4> - - -<p>No sooner had Madam <i>Æmillia</i> finished her Novell, wherein, -the excellent wisedome of <i>Piccarda</i>, for so worthily -punishing the luxurious old Provoste, had generall commendations -of the whole Assembly: but the Queene, looking on -<i>Philostratus</i>, said. I command you next to supply the place: whereto -he made answere, that hee was both ready and willing, and then -thus began. Honourable Ladies, the merry Gentleman, so lately remembred -by Madame <i>Eliza</i>, being named <i>Maso del Saggio</i>; causeth -me to passe over an intended Tale, which I had resolved on when it came -to my turne: to report another concerning him, and two men more, -his friendly Companions, which although it may appeare to you somewhat -unpleasing, in regard of a little grosse and unmannerly behaviour: -yet it will move merriment without any offence, and that is the -maine reason why I relate it.</p> - -<p>It is not unknowne to you, partly by intelligence from our reverend -predecessours, as also some understanding of your owne, that -many time have resorted to our City of <i>Florence</i>, Potestates and -Officers, belonging to the Marquesate of <i>Anconia</i>; who commonly -were men of lowe spirit, and their lives so wretched and penurious, -as they rather deserved to be tearmed Misers, then men. And in -regard of this their naturall covetousnesse and misery, the Judges -would bring also in their company, such Scribes or Notaries, as being -paralelde with their Masters: they all seemed like Swaines come -from the Plough, or bred up in some Coblers quality, rather then -Schollers, or Students of Law.</p> - -<p>At one time (above all the rest) among other Potestates and Judges, -there came an especiall man, as pickt out of purpose, who was -named <i>Messer Niccolao da San Lepidio</i>, who (at the first beholding) -looked rather like a Tinker, then any Officer in authority. This -hansome man (among the rest) was deputed to heare criminall -causes. And, as often it happeneth, that Citizens, although no businesse -inviteth them to Judiciall Courts, yet they still resort thither, -sometimes accidentally: So it fortuned, that <i>Maso del Saggio</i>, being -one morning in search of an especiall friend, went to the Court-house, -and being there, observed in what manner <i>Messer Niccolao</i> -was seated; who looking like some strange Fowle, lately come forth -of a farre Countrey; he began to survay him the more seriously, -even from the head to the foot, as we use to say.</p> - -<p>And albeit he saw his Gowne furred with Miniver, as also the -hood about his necke, a Penne and Inkehorne hanging at his girdle, -and one skirt of his Garment longer then the other, with more misshapen -sights about him, farre unfitting for a man of so civill profession: -yet he spyed one error extraordinary, the most notable (in -his opinion) that ever he had seene before. Namely, a paultry paire -of Breeches, wickedly made, and worse worne, hanging downe so -lowe as halfe his legge, even as he sate upon the Bench, yet cut so -sparingly of the Cloath, that they gaped wide open before, as a -wheele-barrow might have full entrance allowed it. This strange -sight was so pleasing to him; as leaving off further search of his -friend, and scorning to have such a spectacle alone by himselfe: hee -went upon another Inquisition; Namely, for two other merry -Lads like himselfe, the one being called <i>Ribi</i>, and the other <i>Matteuzzo</i>, -men of the same mirth-full disposition as he was, and therefore -the fitter for his Company.</p> - -<p>After he had met with them, these were his salutations: My honest -Boyes, if ever you did me any kindnesse, declare it more effectually now, -in accompanying me to the Court-house, where you shall behold such -a singular spectacle, as (I am sure) you never yet saw the like. Forthwith -they went along altogether, and being come to the Court-house, he -shewed them the Judges hansome paire of Breeches, hanging down -in such base and beastly manner; that (being as yet farre off from -the Bench) their hearts did ake with extreamity of laughter. But -when they came neere to the seat whereon <i>Messer Niccolao</i> sate, -they plainely perceived, that it was very easie to be crept under, and -withall, that the board whereon he set his feet, was rotten and broken, -so that it was no difficult matter, to reach it, and pull it downe -as a man pleased, and let him fall bare Breecht to the ground. -Cheare up your spirits (my hearts) quoth <i>Maso</i>, and if your longing be -like to mine; we will have yonder Breeches a good deale lower, for I see -how it may be easily done.</p> - -<p>Laying their heads together, plotting and contriving severall -wayes, which might be the likelyest to compasse their intent: each -of them had his peculiar appointment, to undertake the businesse -without fayling, and it was to be performed the next morning. At -the houre assigned, they met there againe, and finding the Court -well filled with people, the Plaintiffes and Defendants earnestly -pleading: <i>Matteuzzo</i> (before any body could descry him) was cunningly -crept under the Bench, and lay close by the board whereon -the Judge placed his feete. Then stept in <i>Maso</i> on the right hand -of <i>Messer Niccolao</i>, and tooke fast hold on his Gowne before; the -like did <i>Ribi</i> on the left hand, in all respects answerable to the other. -Oh my Lord Judge (cryed <i>Maso</i> out aloud) I humbly intreat you for -charities sake, before this pilfering knave escape away from hence; that -I may have Justice against him, for stealing my drawing-over stockeings, -which he stoutly denyeth, yet mine owne eyes beheld the deed, it -being now not above fifteene dayes since, when first I bought them for -mine owne use.</p> - -<p>Worthy Lord Judge (cryed <i>Ribi</i>, on the other side) doe not beleeve -what he saith, for he is a paltry lying fellow, and because hee knew I -came hither to make my complaint for a Male or Cloakebag which he -stole from me: hee urgeth this occasion for a paire of drawing Stockeings, -which he delivered me with his owne hands. If your Lordship -will not credit me, I can produce as witnesses, <i>Trecco</i> the Shoemaker, -with <i>Monna Grassa</i> the Souse-seller, and he that sweepes the Church -of <i>Santa Maria a Verzaia</i>, who saw him when he came posting hither. -<i>Maso</i> haling and tugging the Judge by the sleeve, would not suffer -him to heare <i>Ribi</i>, but cryed out still for Justice against him, as he did -the like on the contrary side.</p> - -<p>During the time of this their clamourous contending, the Judge -being very willing to heare either party: <i>Matteuzzo</i>, upon a -signe received from the other, which was a word in <i>Masoes</i> pleading, -laide holde on the broken boord, as also on the Judges low-hanging -Breech, plucking at them both so strongly, that they fell -downe immediately, the Breeches being onely tyed but with one -Poynt before. He hearing the boards breaking underneath him, and -such maine pulling at his Breeches; strove (as he sate) to make them -fast before, but the Poynt being broken, and <i>Maso</i> crying in his eare -on the one side, as <i>Ribi</i> did the like in the other; hee was at his -wits end to defend himselfe. My Lord (quoth <i>Maso</i>) you may bee ashamed -that you doe me not Justice, why will you not heare mee, but -wholly lend your eare to mine Adversary? My Lord (said <i>Ribi</i>) never -was Libell preferd into this Court, of such a paltry trifling matter, and -therefore I must, and will have Justice.</p> - -<p>By this time the Judge was dismounted from the Bench, and -stood on the ground, with his slovenly Breeches hanging about his -heeles; <i>Matteuzzo</i> being cunningly stolne away, and undiscovered -by anybody. <i>Ribi</i>, thinking he had shamed the Judge sufficiently, -went away, protesting, that he would declare his cause in the hearing -of a wiser Judge. And <i>Maso</i> forbearing to tugge his Gowne -any longer, in his departing, said. Fare you well Sir, you are not worthy -to be a Magistrate, if you have no more regard of your honour and -honesty, but will put off poore mens suites at your pleasure. So both -went severall wayes, and soone were gone out of publike view.</p> - -<p>The worshipfull Judge <i>Messer Niccolao</i> stood all this while on -the ground; and, in presence of all the beholders, trussed up his -Breeches, as if hee were new risen out of his bed: when better bethinking -himselfe on the matters indifference, he called for the two -men, who contended for the drawing stockings and the Cloake-bag; -but no one could tell what was become of them. Whereupon, -he rapt out a kinde of Judges oath, saying: I will know whether -it be Law or no heere in <i>Florence</i>, to make a Judge sit bare -Breecht on the Bench of Justice, and in the hearing of criminall -Causes; whereat the chiefe Potestate, and all the standers by laughed -heartily.</p> - -<p>Within fewe dayes after, he was informed by some of his especiall -Friends, that this had never happened to him, but onely to testifie, -how understanding the <i>Florentines</i> are, in their ancient constitutions -and customes, to embrace, love and honour, honest, discreet -worthy Judges and Magistrates; Whereas on the contrary, -they as much condemne miserable knaves, fooles, and dolts, who -never merit to have any better entertainment. Wherefore, it would -be best for him, to make no more enquiry after the parties; lest a -worse inconvenience should happen to him.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Bruno_and_Buffalmaco_did_steale_a_young_Brawne_from_Calandrino" id="Bruno_and_Buffalmaco_did_steale_a_young_Brawne_from_Calandrino">Bruno <i>and</i> Buffalmaco, <i>did steale a young Brawne from</i> Calandrino, -<i>and for his recovery thereof, they used a kinde of pretended conjuration, -with Pilles made of Ginger and strong Malmesey. But instead of -this application, they gave him two Pilles of a Dogges Dates, or Dowsets, -confected in Alloes, which he received each after the other; by -meanes whereof they made him beleeve, that hee had robde himselfe. -And for feare they should report this theft to his wife; they made him -to goe buy another Brawne.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Sixt Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is declared, how easily a plaine and simple man may be made a -foole, when he dealeth with crafty companions.</i></h4> - - -<p><i>Philostratus</i> had no sooner concluded his Novell, and the -whole Assembly laughed heartily thereat: but the Queen -gave command to Madame <i>Philomena</i>, that shee should -follow next in order; whereupon thus shee began. Worthy Ladies, -as <i>Philostratus</i>, by calling to memorie the name of <i>Maso del Saggio</i>, -hath contented you with another merry Novell concerning him: in the -same manner must I intreat you, to remember once againe <i>Calandrino</i> -and his subtle Consorts, by a pretty tale which I meane to tell you; how, -and in what manner they were revenged on him, for going to seeke the -invisible Stone.</p> - -<p>Needlesse were any fresh relation to you, what manner of people -those three men were, <i>Calandrino, Bruno,</i> and <i>Buffalmaco,</i> because -already you have had sufficient understanding of them. And -therefore, as an induction to my discourse, I must tell you, that <i>Calandrino</i> -had a small Country-house, in a Village some-what neere -to <i>Florence</i>, which came to him by the marriage of his Wife. Among -other Cattle and Poultry, which he kept there in store, hee -had a young Boare readie fatted for Brawne, whereof yearly he used -to kill one for his owne provision; and alwaies in the month of -December, he and his wife resorted to their village house, to have -a Brawne both killed and salted.</p> - -<p>It came to passe at this time concerning my Tale, that the Woman -being somewhat crazie and sickly, by her Husbands unkinde -usage, whereof you heard so lately; <i>Calandrino</i> went alone to the -killing of his Boare, which comming to the hearing of <i>Bruno</i> and -<i>Buffalmaco</i>, and that the Woman could by no meanes be there: to -passe away the time a little in merriment, they went to a friendlie -Companion of theirs, an honest joviall Priest, dwelling not farre -off from <i>Calandrinoes</i> Countrey house.</p> - -<p>The same morning as the Boare was kilde, they all three went -thither, and <i>Calandrino</i> seeing them in the Priests companie: bad -them all heartily welcome; and to acquaint them with his good -Husbandry, hee shewed them his house, and the Boare where it -hung. They perceyving it to be faire and fat, knowing also, that -<i>Calandrino</i> intended to salt it for his owne store, <i>Bruno</i> saide unto -him: Thou art an Asse <i>Calandrino</i>, sell thy Brawne, and let us make -merrie with the money: then let thy wife know no otherwise, but that -it was stolne from thee, by those theeves which continually haunt country -houses, especially in such scattering Villages.</p> - -<p>Oh mine honest friends, answered <i>Calandrino</i>, your counsell is not -to be followed, neither is my wife so easie to be perswaded: this were the -readiest way to make your house a hell, and she to become the Master-Divell: -therefore talke no further, for flatly I will not doe it. Albeit -they laboured him very earnestly, yet all proved not to anie purpose: -onely he desired them to suppe with him, but in so colde a -manner, as they denyed him, and parted thence from him. As they -walked on the way, <i>Bruno</i> saide to <i>Buffalmaco</i>. Shall we three (this -night) rob him of his Brawne? Yea marry (quoth <i>Buffalmaco</i>) how -is it to be done? I have (saide <i>Bruno</i>) alreadie found the meanes to effect -it, if he take it not from the place where last we saw it. Let us doe -it then (answered <i>Buffalmaco</i>) why should we not do it? Sir Domine -heere and we, will make good cheare with it among our selves. The -nimble Priest was as forward as the best; and the match being fully -agreed on, <i>Bruno</i> thus spake. My delicate Sir Domine, Art and -cunning must be our maine helps: for thou knowest <i>Buffalmaco</i>, what -a covetous wretch <i>Calandrino</i> is, glad and readie to drink alwaies on -other mens expences: let us go take him with us to the Tavern, where -the Priest (for his owne honour and reputation) shall offer to make paiment -of the whole reckoning, without receiving a farthing of his, -whereof he will not be a little joyfull, so shall we bring to passe the rest -of the businesse, because there is no body in the house, but onely himselfe: -for he is best at ease without company.</p> - -<p>As <i>Bruno</i> had propounded, so was it accordingly performed, & -when <i>Calandrino</i> perceyved, that the Priest would suffer none to -pay, but himselfe, he dranke the more freely; and when there was -no neede at all, tooke his Cuppes couragiously, one after another. -Two or three houres of the night were spent, before they parted -from the Taverne, <i>Calandrino</i> going directly home to his house, -and instantly to bed, without any other supper, imagining that he -had made fast his doore, which (indeede) he left wide open: sleeping -soundly, without suspition of any harme intended unto him. -<i>Buffalmaco</i> and <i>Bruno</i> went and supt with the Priest, and so soone as -supper was ended, they tooke certaine Engines, for their better entering -into <i>Calandrinoes</i> house, and so went on to effect theyr purpose. -Finding the doore standing readie open, they entered in, -tooke the Brawne, carried it with them to the Priests house, and afterward -went all to bed.</p> - -<p>When <i>Calandrino</i> had well slept after his Wine, he arose in the -morning, and being descended downe the staires, finding the street -doore wide open, he looked for the Brawne, but it was gone. Enquiring -of the neighbours dwelling neere about him, hee could -heare no tydings of his Brawne, but became the wofullest man in -the world, telling every one that his Brawne was stolne. <i>Bruno</i> and -<i>Buffalmaco</i> being risen in the morning, they went to visite <i>Calandrino</i>, -to heare how he tooke the losse of his Brawne: and hee no -sooner had a sight of them, but he called them to him; and with the -teares running downe his cheekes, sayde: Ah my deare friendes, I -am robde of my Brawne. <i>Bruno</i> stepping closely to him, sayde in his -eare: It is wonderfull, that once in thy life time thou canst bee wise. -How? answered <i>Calandrino</i>, I speake to you in good earnest. Speake so -still in earnest (replied <i>Bruno</i>) and cry it out so loud as thou canst, then -let who list beleeve it to be true.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> stampt and fretted exceedingly, saying: As I am a -true man to God, my Prince, and Countrey, I tell thee truly, that my -Brawne is stolne. Say so still I bid thee (answered <i>Bruno</i>) and let all -the world beleeve thee, if they list to do so, for I will not. Wouldst thou, -(quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) have me damne my selfe to the divell? I see thou -dost not credit what I say: but would I were hanged by the necke, if it -be not true, that my Brawne is stolne. How can it possible be, replyed -<i>Bruno</i>? Did not I see it in thy house yesternight? Wouldst thou have -me beleeve, that it is flowne away? Although it is not flowne away -(quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) yet I am certain, that it is stolne away: for which -I am weary of my life, because I dare not go home to mine owne house, -in regard my wife will never beleeve it; and yet if she should credite it, -we are sure to have no peace for a twelvemonths space.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i>, seeming as if he were more then halfe sorrowfull, yet supporting -still his former jesting humor, saide: Now trust mee <i>Calandrino</i>, -if it be so; they that did it are much too blame. If it be so? answered -<i>Calandrino</i>, Belike thou wouldst have mee blaspheme Heaven, -and all the Saints therein: I tell thee once againe <i>Bruno</i>, that this -last night my Brawne was stolne. Be patient good <i>Calandrino</i>, replyed -<i>Buffalmaco</i>, and if thy Brawne be stolne from thee, there are means -enow to get it againe. Meanes enow to get it againe? said <i>Calandrino</i>, -I would faine heare one likely one, and let all the rest go by. I am -sure <i>Calandrino</i>, answered <i>Buffalmaco</i>, thou art verily perswaded, -that no Theefe came from <i>India</i>, to steale thy Brawne from thee: in -which respect, it must needes then be some of thy Neighbours: whom -if thou couldst lovingly assemble together, I knowe an experiment to -be made with Bread and Cheese, whereby the party that hath it, will -quickly be discovered.</p> - -<p>I have heard (quoth <i>Bruno</i>) of such an experiment, and helde it -to be infallible; but it extendeth onely unto persons of Gentilitie, -whereof there are but few dwelling heere about, and in the case of -stealing a Brawne, it is doubtfull to invite them, neither can there -be any certainty of their comming. I confesse what you say, aunswered -<i>Buffalmaco</i>, to be very true: but then in this matter, so nerely -concerning us to be done, and for a deare Friend, what is your -advice? I would have Pilles made of Ginger, compounded with -your best and strongest <i>Malmesey</i>, then let the ordinary sort of people -be invited (for such onely are most to be mistrusted) and they -will not faile to come, because they are utterly ignorant of our intention. -Besides, the Pilles may as well bee hallowed and consecrated, -as bread and cheese on the like occasion. Indeede you say -true (replyed <i>Buffalmaco</i>) but what is the opinion of <i>Calandrino</i>? -Is he willing to have this tryall made, or no? Yes, by all meanes, -answered <i>Calandrino</i>, for gladly I would know who hath stolne -my Brawne, and your good words have (more then halfe) comforted -me already in this case.</p> - -<p>Well then (quoth <i>Bruno</i>) I will take the paines to go to <i>Florence</i>, to -provide all things necessarie for this secret service; but I must bee furnished -with money to effect it. <i>Calandrino</i> had some forty shillings -then about him, which he delivered to <i>Bruno</i>, who presently went -to <i>Florence</i>, to a friend of his an Apothecarie, of whom he bought -a pound of white Ginger, which hee caused him to make uppe in -small Pilles: and two other beside of a Dogges-dates or Dowsets, -confected all over with strong Aloes, yet well moulded in Sugare, -as all the rest were: and because they should the more easily bee -knowne from the other, they were spotted with Gold, in verie formall -and Physicall manner. He bought moreover, a big Flaggon -of the best Malmesey, returning backe with all these things to <i>Calandrino</i>, -and directing him in this order.</p> - -<p>You must put some friend in trust, to invite your Neighbors (especially -such as you suspect) to a breakfast in the morning: and because it -is done as a feast in kindnesse, they will come to you the more willingly. -This night will I and <i>Buffalmaco</i> take such order, that the Pilles -shall have the charge imposed on them, and then wee will bring them -hither againe in the morning: and I my selfe (for your sake) will deliver -them to your guests, and performe whatsoever is to bee sayde or -done. On the next morning, a goodly company being assembled, -under a faire Elme before the Church; as well young <i>Florentynes</i> -(who purposely came to make themselves merry) as neighbouring -Husbandmen of the Village: <i>Bruno</i> was to begin the service, with -the Pils in a faire Cup, and <i>Buffalmaco</i> followed him with another -Cup, to deliver the wine out of the Flaggon, all the company beeing -set round, as in a circle; and <i>Bruno</i> with <i>Buffalmaco</i> being in the -midst of them, <i>Bruno</i> thus spake.</p> - -<p>Honest friends, it is fit that I should acquaint you with the occasion, -why we are thus met together, and in this place: because if anie thing -may seeme offensive to you; afterward you shall make no complaint of -me. From <i>Calandrino</i> (our loving friend heere present) yesternight -there was a new-kild fat Brawne taken, but who hath done the deede, -as yet he knoweth not; and because none other, but some one (or more) -heere among us, must needs offend in this case: he, desiring to understand -who they be, would have each man to receive one of these Pilles, -and afterward to drinke of this Wine; assuring you all, that whosoever -stole the Brawne hence, cannot be able to swallow the Pill: for it wil be -so extreme bitter in his mouth, as it will enforce him to Coughe and -spet extraordinarily. In which respect, before such a notorious shame -be received, and in so goodly an assembly, as now are heere present: it -were much better for him or them that have the Brawne, to confesse it -in private to this honest Priest, and I will abstaine from urging anie -such publike proofe.</p> - -<p>Every one there present answered, that they were well contented -both to eate and drinke, and let the shame fall where it deserved; -whereupon, <i>Bruno</i> appointing them how they should sit, and -placing <i>Calandrino</i> as one among them: he began his counterfeite -exorcisme, giving each man a Pill, and <i>Buffalmaco</i> a Cup of Wine -after it. But when he came to <i>Calandrino</i>, hee tooke one of them, -which was made of the Dogges dates or Dowsets, and delivering -it into his hand, presently hee put it into his mouth and chewed it. -So soone as his tongue tasted the bitter Aloes, he began to coughe -and spet extreamly, as being utterly unable, to endure the bitternesse -and noysome smell. The other men that had receyved the -Pils, beganne to gaze one upon another, to see whose behaviour -should discover him; and <i>Bruno</i> having not (as yet) delivered Pils -to them all, proceeded on still in his businesse, as seeming not to -heare any coughing, till one behinde him, saide. What meaneth -<i>Calandrino</i> by this spetting and coughing?</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i> sodainely turning him about, and seeing <i>Calandrino</i> to -cough and spet in such sort, saide to the rest. Be not too rash (honest -Friends) in judging of any man, some other matter (then the Pille) -may procure this Coughing, wherefore he shall receive another, the better -to cleare your beleefe concerning him. He having put the second -prepared Pill into his mouth, while <i>Bruno</i> went to serve the rest of -the Guests: if the first was exceeding bitter to his taste, this other -made it a great deale worse, for teares streamed forth of his eyes as -bigge as Cherry-stones, and champing and chewing the Pill, as hoping -it would overcome his coughing; he coughed and spette the -more violently, and in grosser manner then he did before, nor did -they give him any wine to helpe it.</p> - -<p><i>Buffalmaco, Bruno,</i> and the whole company, perceiving how he -continued still his coughing and spetting; saide all with one voyce, -That <i>Calandrino</i> was the Theefe to himselfe: and gave him manie -grosse speeches beside, all departing home into their houses, very -much displeased and angry with him. After they were gone, none -remained with him but the Priest, <i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i>, who thus -spake to <i>Calandrino</i>. I did ever thinke, that thou wast the theefe thy -selfe, yet thou imputedst thy robbery to some other, for feare we should -once drinke freely of thy purse, as thou hast done many times of ours. -<i>Calandrino</i>, who had not yet ended his coughing and spetting, -sware many bitter Oathes, that his Brawne was stolne from him. -Talke so long as thou wilt, quoth <i>Buffalmaco</i>, thy knavery is both -knowne and seene, and well thou mayst be ashamed of thy selfe. <i>Calandrino</i> -hearing this, grew desperately angry; and to incense him -more, <i>Bruno</i> thus pursued the matter.</p> - -<p>Hear me <i>Calandrino</i>, for I speake to thee in honest earnest, there -was a man in the company, who did eate and drinke heere among thy -neighbours, and plainly told me, that thou keptst a young Lad heere to -do thee service, feeding him with such victuals as thou couldst spare, -by him thou didst send away thy Brawne, to one that bought it of thee -for foure Crownes, onely to cousen thy poore wife and us. Canst thou -not yet learne to leave thy mocking and scorning? Thou hast forgotte, -how thou broughtst us to the plaine of <i>Mugnone</i>, to seeke for black invisible -stones: which having found, thou concealedst them to thy selfe, -stealing home invisibly before us, and making us follow like fooles after -thee.</p> - -<p>Now likewise, by horrible lying Oathes, and perjured protestations, -thou wouldst make us to beleeve, that the Brawne (which thou hast -cunningly sold for ready money) was stolne from thee out of thy house, -when thou art onely the Theefe to thy selfe, as by that excellent rule of -Art (which never faileth) hath plainly, to thy shame, appeared. Wee -being so well acquainted with thy delusions, and knowing them perfectly; -now do plainly tell thee, that we mean not to be foold any more. -Nor is it unknowne to thee, what paines wee have taken, in making -this singular peece of proofe. Wherefore we inflict this punishment on -thee, that thou shalt bestow on this honest Priest and us, two couple of -Capons, and a Flaggon of Wine, or else we will discover this knavery of -thine to thy Wife.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> perceiving, that all his protestations could winne no -credit with them, who had now the Law remaining in their owne -hands, and purposed to deale with him as they pleased: apparently -saw, that sighing and sorrow did nothing availe him. Moreover, -to fall into his wives tempestuous stormes of chiding, would bee -worse to him then racking or torturing: he gladly therefore gave -them money, to buy the two couple of Capons and Wine, being -heartily contented likewise, that hee was so well delivered from -them. So the merry Priest, <i>Bruno</i>, and <i>Buffalmaco</i>, having taken -good order for salting the Brawne; closely carried it with them to -<i>Florence</i>, leaving <i>Calandrino</i> to complaine of his losse, and well requited, -for mocking them with the invisible stones.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="A_young_Gentleman_being_a_Scholler_fell_in_love_with_a_Ladie_named" id="A_young_Gentleman_being_a_Scholler_fell_in_love_with_a_Ladie_named"><i>A young Gentleman being a Scholler, fell in love with a Ladie, named</i> -Helena, <i>she being a Widdow, and addicted in affection to another -Gentleman. One whole night in cold winter, she caused the Scholler -to expect her comming, in an extreame frost and snow. In revenge -whereof, by his imagined Art and skill, he made her to stand -naked on the top of a Tower, the space of a whole day, and in the hot -moneth of July, to be Sun-burnt and bitten with Waspes and Flies.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Seventh Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Serving as an admonition to all Ladies and Gentlewomen, not to mock -or scorne Gentlemen-Schollers, when they make meanes of love to -them; Except they intend to seeke their owne shame, by disgracing -them.</i></h4> - - -<p>Greatly did the Ladies commend Madame <i>Philomenaes</i> -Novell, laughing heartily at poore <i>Calandrino</i>, yet grieving -withall, that he should be so knavishly cheated, not -onely of his Brawne, but two couple of Capons, and a Flaggon of -Wine beside. But the whole discourse being ended; the Queene -commanded Madame <i>Pampinea</i>, to follow next with her Novell, -and presently she thus began. It hapneth oftentimes, (bright beauties) -that mockery falleth onto him, that intended the same unto another: -And therefore I am of opinion, that there is very little wisedom -declared on him or her, who taketh delight in mocking any person. -I must needs confesse, that we have smiled at many mockeries and deceits, -related in those excellent Novels, which we have already heard; -without any due revenge returned, but onely in this last of silly <i>Calandrino</i>. -Wherefore, it is now my determination, to urge a kind of compassionate -apprehension, upon a very just retribution, happening to a -Gentlewoman of our Citie, because her scorne fell deservedly upon her -selfe, remaining mocked, and to the perill of her life. Let me then assure -you, that your diligent attention may redound to your benefit, because -if you keepe your selves (henceforward) from being scorned by others: -you shall expresse the greater wisedome, and be the better warned -by their mishaps.</p> - -<p>As yet there are not many yeares over-past, since there dwelt in -<i>Florence</i>, a young Lady, descended of Noble parentage, very beautifull, -of sprightly courage, and sufficiently abounding in the goods -of Fortune, she being named Madame <i>Helena</i>. Her delight was -to live in the estate of Widdow-hood, desiring to match her selfe -no more in marriage, because she bare affection to a gallant young -Gentleman, whom she had made her private election of, and with -whom (having excluded all other amorous cares and cogitations) -by meanes of her Waiting-woman, she had divers meetings, and -kinde conferences.</p> - -<p>It chanced at the verie same time, another young Gentleman of -our Citie, called <i>Reniero</i>, having long studied in the Schooles at -<i>Paris</i>, returned home to <i>Florence</i>, not to make sale of his Learning -and experience, as many doe: but to understand the reason of -things, as also the causes and effects of them, which is mervailously -fitting for any Gentleman. Being greatly honoured and esteemed -of everyone, as well for his courteous carriage towards all in -generall, as for his knowledge and excellent parts: he lived more -like a familiar Citizen, then in the nature of a Courtly Gentleman, -albeit he was choisely respected in either estate.</p> - -<p>But, as oftentimes it commeth to passe, that such as are endued -with the best judgement and understanding in naturall occasions, -are soonest caught and intangled in the snares of Love: so fel it out -with our Scholler <i>Reniero</i>, who being invited to a solemne Feast, -in company of other his especiall Friends; this Lady <i>Helena</i>, attyred -in her blacke Garments (as Widowes commonly use to wear) -was likewise there a Guest. His eye observing her beauty and gracious -demeanour, she seemed in his judgement, to be a Woman so -compleate and perfect, as he had never seene her equall before: & -therefore, he accounted the man more then fortunate, that was -worthy to embrace her in his armes. Continuing this amorous observation -of her from time to time, and knowing withall, that rare -and excellent things are not easily obtained, but by painefull study, -labour, and endeavour: hee resolved with himselfe constantly, to -put in practise all his best parts of industry, onely to honour and -please her, and attaining to her contentation, it would be the means -to winne her love, and compasse thereby his hearts desire.</p> - -<p>The young Lady, who fixed not her eyes on inferiour subjects (but -esteemed her selfe above ordinary reach or capacity) could moove -them artificially, as curious women well know how to doe, looking -on every side about her, yet not in a gadding or grosse manner; -for she was not ignorant in such darting glaunces, as proceeded -from an enflamed affection, which appearing plainely in <i>Reniero</i>; -with a pretty smile, shee said to her selfe. I am not come hither this -day in vaine; for, if my judgement faile me not, I thinke I have caught -a Woodcocke by the Bill. And lending him a cunning looke or two, -queintly caried with the corner of her eye; she gave him a kinde of -perswading apprehension, that her heart was the guide to her eye. -And in this artificiall Schoole-tricke of hers, shee carryed therewith -another consideration, to wit, that the more other eyes fedde themselves -on her perfections, and were (well-neere) lost in them beyond -recovery: so much the greater reason had he to account his -fortune beyond comparison, that was the sole master of her heart, -and had her love at his command.</p> - -<p>Our witty Scholler having set aside his Philosophicall considerations, -strove how he might best understand her carriage toward -him, and beleeving that she beheld him with pleasing regards; hee -learned to know the house where shee dwelt, passing daily by the -doore divers times, under colour of some more serious occasions: -wherein the Lady very proudly gloried, in regard of the reasons before -alleadged, and seemed to affoord him lookes of good liking. -Being led thus with a hopefull perswasion, hee founde the meanes to -gaine acquaintance with her waiting-woman, revealing to her his -intire affection, desiring her to worke for him in such sort with her -Lady, that his service might be gracious in her acceptance. The -Gentlewoman made him a very willing promise, and immediately -did his errand to her Lady; who heard her with no small pride and -squemishnesse, and breaking forth into a scornefull laughter, thus -she spake.</p> - -<p><i>Ancilla</i> (for so she was named) dost thou not observe, how this Scholler -is come to lose all the wit heere, which he has studyed so long for in the -University of <i>Paris</i>? Let us make him our onely Table argument, and -seeing his folly soareth so high, we will feed him with such a dyet as hee -deserveth. Yet when thou speakest next with him, tell him, that I affect -him more then he can doe me: but it becommeth me to be carefull -of mine honour, and to walke with an untainted brow, as other Ladies -and Gentlewomen doe: which he is not to mislike, if he be so wise as he -maketh shew of, but rather will the more commend me. Alas good -Lady lack-wit, little did she understand (faire assembly) how dangerous -a case it is to deale with Schollers.</p> - -<p>At his next meeting with the waiting woman, shee delivered the -message, as her Lady had command her, whereof poore <i>Reniero</i> was -so joyfull: that hee pursued his love-suite the more earnestly, and -began to write letters, send gifts, and tokens, all which were still received, -yet without any other answere to give hope, but onely in -generall, and thus shee dallied with him a long while. In the end, -she discovered this matter to her secret chosen friend, who fell suddenly -sicke of the head-ake, onely through meere conceit of jealousie: -which she perceiving, and grieving to be suspected without any -cause, especially by him whom shee esteemed above all other; shee -intended to rid him quickely of that Idle disease. And being more -and more solicited by the Scholler, she sent him word by her maide -<i>Ancilla</i>, that (as yet) she could find no convenient opportunity, to -yeeld him such assurance, as hee should not any way be distrustfull -of her love.</p> - -<p>But the Feast of Christmas was now neere at hand, which afforded -leisures much more hopefull, then any other formerly passed. -And therefore, the next night after the first Feasting day, if he pleased -to walke in the open Court of her house: she would soone send -for him, into a place much better beseeming, and where they might -freely converse together.</p> - -<p>Now was our Scholler the onely jocond man of the world, and -failed not the time assigned him, but went unto the Ladies house, -where <i>Ancilla</i> was ready to give him entertainment, conducting -him into the base Court, where she lockt him up fast, untill her Lady -should send for him. This night shee had privately sent for her -friend also, and sitting merrily at supper with him, told him, what -welcome she had given the Scholler, and how she further meant to -use him, saying. Now Sir, consider with yourselfe, what hot affection -I beare to him, of whom you became so fondly jealous. The which -words were very welcome to him, and made him extraordinarily -joyful; desiring to see them as effectually performed, as they appeared -to him by her protestations.</p> - -<p>Heere you are to understand (Gracious Ladies) that according -to the season of the yeare, a great snow had falne the day before, so -as the whole Court was covered therewith, and being an extreame -frost upon it, our Scholler could not boast of any warme walking, -when the teeth quivered in his head with cold, as a Dog could not -be more discourteously used: yet hope of enjoying Loves recompence -at length, made him to support all this injury with admirable -patience.</p> - -<p>Within a while after, Madame <i>Helena</i> said to her friend. Walke -with me (deare heart) into my Chamber, and there at a secret little -window, I shall shew thee what he doth, that drove thee to such a suspition -of me, and we shall heare beside, what answere he will give my maide -<i>Ancilla</i>, whom I will send to comfort him in his coldnesse.</p> - -<p>When she had so said, they went to the appointed chamber window, -where they could easily see him, but he not them: and then -they heard <i>Ancilla</i> also, calling to him forth of another windowe, -saying. Signior <i>Reniero</i>, my Lady is the wofullest woman in the -world, because (as yet) she cannot come to you, in regard that one of -her brethren came this evening to visite her, and held her with much -longer discourse then she expected: whereby she was constrained to invite -him to sup with her, and yet he is not gone; but shortly I hope hee -will, and then expect her comming presently; till when, she entreateth -your gentle sufferance.</p> - -<p>Poore <i>Reniero</i>, our over-credulous Scholler, whose vehement affection -to Madame <i>Helena</i>, so hood-winkt the sight of his understanding, -as he could not be distrustfull of any guilt; returned this -answere to <i>Ancilla</i>. Say to your Lady that I am bound in duty, to attend -the good houre of her leisure, without so much as the very least -prejudicate conceite in me: Neverthelesse, entreat her, to let it bee so -soone as she possibly may, because here is miserable walking, and it beginneth -againe to snow extreamely. <i>Ancilla</i> making fast the Casement, -went presently to bed; when <i>Helena</i> spake thus to her amorous -friend. What saist thou now? Doest thou thinke that I loved -him, as thou wast affraid of? if I did, he should never walke thus in the -frost and snow. So, away went they likewise from their close gazing -window, and spent wanton dalliances together, laughing, and deriding -(with many bitter taunts and jests) the lamentable condition -of poore <i>Reniero</i>.</p> - -<p>About the Court walked hee numberlesse times, finding such -exercises as he could best devise, to compasse warmth in any manner: -no seate or shelter had he any where, either to ease himselfe by -sitting downe a while, or keepe him from the snow, falling continually -on him, which made him bestow many curses on the Ladies -Brother, for his so long tarrying with her, as beleeving him verily -to be in the house, else she would (long before) have admitted his -entrance, but therein his hope was meerely deceived. It grew now -to be about the houre of midnight, and <i>Helena</i> had delighted her -selfe with her friend extraordinarily, til at last she spake to him. -What is thine opinion of my amourous Scholler? Which dost thou imagine -to be the greatest, either his sense and judgement, or the affection -I beare to him? Is not this cold sufferance of this, able to quench the -violent heate of his loves extremitie, and having so much snow broth -to helpe it? Beleeve me (sweet Lady) quoth her friend, as hee is a -man, and a learned Scholler, I pitty that he should bee thus ungently -dealt withall: but as he is my rivall and loves enemy, I cannot allow -him the least compassion, resting the more confidently assured of your -love to me, which I will alwayes esteeme most precious.</p> - -<p>When they had spent a long while in this or the like conference, -with infinite sweet kisses and embraces intermixed; then she began -againe in this manner. Deare love (quoth she) cast thy Cloake about -thee, as I intend to doe with my night mantle, and let us step to the -little window once more, to see whether the flaming fire, which burned -in the Schollers brest (as daily avouched to me in his love letters) be as -yet extinct or no. So going to the window againe, and looking -downe into the Court; there they saw the Scholler dancing in the -snow, to the cold tune of his teeths quivering and chattering, and -clapping his armes about his body, which was no pleasing melody -to him. How thinkest thou now sweet heart (saide shee) cannot I -make a man daunce without the sound of a Taber, or of a Bagpipe? Yes -beleeve me Lady (quoth he) I plaine perceive you can, and would be very -lothe, that you should exercise your cunning on me. Nay, said shee, -we will yet delight our selves a little more; let us softly descend downe -the stayres, even so farre as to the Court doore; thou shalt not speake a -word, but I will talke to him, and heare some part of his quivering -language, which cannot choose but bee passing pleasing for us to -heare.</p> - -<p>Out of the Chamber went they, and descended downe the -stayres to the Court doore; where, without opening it, she laide her -mouth to a small cranny, and in a low soft kinde of voyce, called -him by his name: which the Scholler hearing, was exceeding joyful, -as beleeving verily, that the houre of his deliverance was come, -and entrance now should be admitted him. Upon the hearing of -her voyce, hee stept close to the doore, saying. For charities sake, -good Lady, let me come in, because I am almost dead with cold; whereto -thus she answered in mocking manner. I make no doubt (my deare -friend <i>Reniero</i>) but the night is indifferent colde, and yet somewhat -the warmer by the Snowes falling: and I have heard that such weather -as this, is tenne-times more extreame at <i>Paris</i>, then heere in our -warmer Countrey. And trust me, I am exceeding sorrowfull, that I -may not (as yet) open the door, because mine unhappy brother, who -came (unexpected) yester-night to suppe with mee, is not yet gone, as -within a short while (I hope) he will, and then shall I gladly set open -the doore to you, for I made an excuse to steale a little from him, onely -to cheare you with this small kind of comfort, that his so long tarrying -might be the lesse offensive to you.</p> - -<p>Alas sweet Madame, answered quaking and quivering <i>Reniero</i>, -bee then so favourable to me, as to free me from forth this open Court, -where there is no shelter or helpe for me, the snow falling still so exceedingly, -as a man might easily be more then halfe buried in it: let me be -but within your doore, and there I will wait your own good leisure. Alas -deare <i>Reniero</i> (answered <i>Helena</i>) I dare not doe it, because the doore -maketh such a noyse in the opening, as it will be too easily heard by my -Brother: but I will goe and use such meanes, as shortly hee shall get -him gone, and then I dare boldly give you entrance. Doe so good -Madame, replyed <i>Reniero</i>, and let there be a faire fire made ready, -that when I am within, I may the sooner warme my selfe; for I am so -strangely benummed with colde, as well neere I am past all sence of feeling.</p> - -<p>Can it be possible (quoth <i>Helena</i>) that you should be so benummed -with colde? Then I plainely perceive, that men can lye in their love -letters, which I can shew under your own hand, how you fryed in flames, -and all for my love, and so have you written to me in every letter. -Poore credulous women are often thus deluded, in beleeving what men -write and speake out of passion: but I will returne backe to my Brother, -and make no doubt of dispatch, because I would gladly have your -Company.</p> - -<p>The amourous Friend to <i>Helena</i>, who stood by all this while, -laughing at the Schollers hard usage, returned up againe with her to -her Chamber, where they could not take a jote of rest, for flouting -and scorning the betrayed Scholler. As for him poore man, hee -was become like the Swanne, coldly chattering his teeth together, -in a strange new kinde of harmony to him. And perceiving himselfe -to be meerely mocked, he attempted to get open the doore, or -how he might passe forth at any other place: but being no way able -to compasse it, he walked up and downe like an angry Lyon, -cursing the hard quality of the time, the discourtesie of the Lady, -the over-tedious length of the night; but (most of all) his owne -folly and simplicity, in being so basely abused and gulde. Now began -the heat of his former affection to <i>Helena</i>, altered into as violent -a detestation of her; Yea, extremity of hatred in the highest -degree; beating his braines, and ransacking every corner of invention, -by what meanes he might best be revenged on her, which now -he more earnestly desired to effect, then to enjoy the benefit of her -love, or to be embraced betweene her armes.</p> - -<p>After that the sad and discomfortable night had spent it selfe, -& the break of day was beginning to appeare; <i>Ancilla</i> the waiting-woman, -according as she was instructed by her Lady, went downe -and opened the Court doore, and seeming exceedingly to compassionate -the Schollers unfortunate night of sufferance, saide unto -him.</p> - -<p>Alas courteous Gentleman, in an unblessed houre came my Ladyes -brother hither yester-night, inflicting too much trouble upon us, and -a grievous time of affliction to you. But I am not ignorant, that you -being vertuous, and a judicious Scholler, have an invincible spirit of -pacience, and sufficient understanding withall; that what this night -could not affoord, another may make a sound amends for. This I can -and dare sufficiently assure you, that nothing could be more displeasing -to my Lady, neither can she well be quieted in her mind: untill she have -made a double and treble requitall, for such a strange unexpected inconvenience, -whereof she had not the very least suspition.</p> - -<p><i>Reniero</i> swelling with discontentment, yet wisely clouding it -from open apprehension, and knowing well enough, that such golden -speeches and promises, did alwaies favour of what intemperate -spleene would more lavishly have vented foorth, and therefore in a -modest dissembling manner; without the least shew of any anger, -thus he answered.</p> - -<p>In good sadnesse <i>Ancilla</i>, I have endured the most miserablest night -of colde, frost and snow, that ever any poore Gentleman suffered; but I -know well enough, your Lady was not in any fault thereof, neither meriteth -to be blamed, for in her owne person (as being truely compassionate -of my distresse) she came so farre as the doore of this Court, to excuse -her selfe, and comfort mee. But as you saide, and very well too, -what hath failed this night, another hereafter may more fortunately -performe: in hope whereof, commend my love and duteous service to -her, and (what else remaineth mine) to your gentle selfe.</p> - -<p>So our halfe frozen Scholler, scarcely able to walke upon his -legges, returned home, (so well as hee could) to his owne lodging; -where, his Spirits being grievously out of order, and his eyes staring -gastly through lacke of sleepe: he lay downe on his bed, and after a -little rest, he found himselfe in much worse condition then before, -as meerely taken lame in his armes and his legges. Whereupon -he was inforced to send for Phisitions, to be advised by their councell, -in such an extremity of cold received. Immediately, they made -provision for his healthes remedie (albeit his nerves and sinewes -could very hardly extend themselves) yet in regard he was young, & -Summer swiftly drawing on; they had the better hope of affecting -his safty, out of so great and dangerous a cold.</p> - -<p>But after he was become almost well and lusty againe, hee used -to be seldome seene abroad for an indifferent while; concealing his -intended revenge secret to himselfe, yet appearing more affectionate -to Madame <i>Helena</i>, then formerly he had beene.</p> - -<p>Now, it came to passe (within no long while after) that Fortune -being favourable to our injured Scholler, prepared a new accident, -whereby he might fully effect his harts desire. For the lusty young Gallant, -who was Madame <i>Helenaes</i> deare darling and delight, and (for -whose sake) she dealt so inhumanely with poore <i>Reniero</i>: became -weary of her amourous service, and was falne in liking of another -Lady, scorning and disdaining his former Mistresse; whereat shee -grew exceedingly displeased, and began to languish in sighes and -teares.</p> - -<p>But <i>Ancilla</i> her waiting-woman, compassionating the perilous -condition of her Lady, and knowing no likely meanes whereby to -conquer this oppressing melancholly, which shee suffered for the -losse of her hearts chosen friend: at length she began to consider, -that the Scholler still walked daily by the doore, as formerly hee -was wont to doe, and (by him) there might some good be done.</p> - -<p>A fond and foolish opinion overswayed her, that the Scholler -was extraordinarily skilfull in the Art of Nigromancy, and could -thereby so over-rule the heart of her lost friend, as hee should bee -compelled to love her againe, in as effectuall manner as before; -herewith immediately she acquainted her Lady, who being as rashly -credulous, as her maide was opinionative (never considring, -that if the Scholler had any experience in Negromancy, hee would -thereby have procured his owne successe) gave releefe to her surmise, -in very Joviall and comfortable manner, and entreated her -in all kindnes, to know of him, whether he could worke such a businesse, -or no, and (upon his undertaking to effect it) shee would give -absolute assurance, that (in recompence thereof) he should unfainedly -obtaine his hearts desire. <i>Ancilla</i> was quicke and expeditious, -in delivering this message to discontented <i>Reniero</i>, whose soule being -ready to mount out of his body, onely by conceit of joy; chearefully -thus he said within himselfe. Gracious Fortune! how highly am I -obliged to thee for this so great a favour? Now thou hast blest me with -a happy time, to be justly revenged on so wicked a woman, who sought -the utter ruine of my life, in recompence of the unfaigned affection I -bare her. Returne to thy Lady (quoth he) and saluting her first on -my behalfe, bid her to abandon all care in this businesse; for, if her amourous -Friend were in India, I would make him come (in meere despight -of his heart) and crave mercy of her for his base transgression. -But concerning the meanes how, and in what manner it is to bee done, -especially on her owne behalfe: I will impart it to her so soone as she -pleaseth: faile not to tell her so constantly from me, with all my utmost -paines at her service.</p> - -<p><i>Ancilla</i> came jocondly home with her answere, and a conclusion -was set downe for their meeting together at <i>Santa Lucia del prato</i>, -which accordingly was performed, in very solemne conference between -them. Her fond affection had such power over her, that shee -had forgot, into what peril she brought his life, by such an unnatural -night-walke: but disclosed all her other intention to him, how loth -she was to lose so deare a friend, and desiring him to exercise his utmost -height of skil, with large promises of her manifold favours to -him, whereto our Scholler thus replyed.</p> - -<p>Very true it is Madam, that among other studies at <i>Paris</i>, I learned -the Art of Negromancy, the depth whereof I am as skilful in, as anie -other Scholler whatsoever. But, because it is greatly displeasing unto -God, I made a vow never to use it, either for my selfe, or anie other. -Neverthelesse, the love I beare you is of such power, as I know not well -how to denie, whatsoever you please to command me: in which respect, -if in doing you my very best service, I were sure to bee seized on by all -the divels: I will not faile to accomplish your desire, you onely having -the power to command me. But let me tell you Madame, it is a matter -not so easie to be performed, as you perhaps may rashly imagine, especially, -when a Woman would repeale a man to love her, or a man a woman: -because, it is not to be done, but by the person whom it properly -concerneth. And therefore it behoveth, that such would have this -businesse effected, must be of a constant minde, without the least scruple -of feare: because it is to be accomplished in the darke night season, in -which difficulties I doe not know, how you are able to warrant your -selfe, or whether you have such courage of spirit, as (with boldnes) -to adventure.</p> - -<p>Madame <i>Helena</i>, more hot in pursuite of her amorous contentment, -then any way governed by temperate discretion, presently -thus answered. Sir, Love hath set such a keene edge on my unconquerable -affection, as there is not any daunger so difficult, but I dare resolutely -undertake it, for the recovery of him, who hath so shamefully -refused my kindnesse: wherefore (if you please) shew mee, wherein I -must be so constant and dreadlesse. The Scholler, who had (more -then halfe) caught a right Ninny-hammer by the beake; thus replyed. -Madame, of necessity I must make an image of Tin, in the -name of him whom you desire to recall. Which when I have sent -you, the Moone being then in her full, and your selfe stript starke -naked: immediately after your first sleepe, seaven times you must -bathe your selfe with it in a swift running River. Afterward, naked -as you are, you must climbe up upon some tree, or else upon an uninhabited -house top, where standing dreadlesse of any perill, and -turning your face to the North, with the Image in your hand, seaven -times you must speake such wordes, as I will deliver to you in -writing.</p> - -<p>After you have so often spoken them, two goodly Ladies (the -very fairest that ever you beheld) wil appeare unto you, very graciously -saluting you, and demanding what you would have them -to performe for you. Safely you may speake unto them, and orderly -tel them what you desire: but be very carefull, that you name -not one man insted of another. When you have uttered your mind, -they wil depart from you, and then you may descend againe, to the -place where you did leave your garments, which having putte on, -then returne to your house. And undoubtedly, before the midst -of the next night following, your friend wil come in teares to you, -and humbly crave your pardon on his knees; beeing never able afterward -to be false to you, or leave your Love for any other whatsoever.</p> - -<p>The Lady hearing these words, gave very setled beleefe to them, -imagining unfainedly, that shee had (more then halfe) recovered -her friend already, and held him embraced betweene her armes: in -which jocond perswasion, the chearful blood mounted up into hir -cheekes, and thus she replyed. Never make you any doubt Sir, but -that I can sufficiently performe whatsoever you have said, and am -provided of the onely place in the world, where such a weighty businesse -is to be effected. For I have a Farme or dairy house, neere -adjoyning to the vale of <i>Arno</i>, & closely bordering upon the same -River. It beeing now the moneth of July, the most convenientest -time of all the yeare to bathe in; I can bee the easier induced thereunto.</p> - -<p>Moreover, there is hard by the Rivers side a small Tower or Turret -uninhabited; whereinto few people do sildome enter, but onely -Heardsmen or Flocke-keepers, who ascend uppe (by the helpe of a -wodden Ladder) to a Tarrasse on the top of the saide Tower, to -looke all about for their beasts, when they are wandred astray: it -standing in a solitary place, and out of the common way or resort. -There dare I boldly adventure to mount up, and with the invincible -courage of a wronged Lady (not fearing to looke death himself -in the face) do al that you have prescribed, yea, and much more, to -recover my deare lost Lover againe, whom I value equall with my -owne Life.</p> - -<p><i>Reniero</i>, who perfectly knew both the Dairy Farme, and the old -small Turret, not a little joyful, to heare how forward shee was to -shame her selfe, answered in this manner. Madame, I was never in -those parts of the Country, albeit they are so neere to our City, & therfore -I must needs be ignorant, not onely of your Farme, but the Turret -also. But if they stand in such convenient manner as you have described, -all the world could not yeelde the like elsewhere, so apt and sutable -to your purpose: wherefore, with such expedition as possibly I can -use, I will make the Image, and send it you, as also the charme, verie -fairely written. But let me entreate you, that when you have obtayned -your hearts desire, and are able to judge truely of my love and service: -not to be unmindfull of me, but (at your best leysure) to performe -what you have with such protestations promised; which shee gave him -her hand and faith to do, without any impeach or hindrance: and so -parting, she returned home to her house.</p> - -<p>Our over-joyed Scholler, applauding his happy Starres, for furthering -him with so faire a way to his revenge; immagining that it -was already halfe executed, made the Image in due forme, & wrote -an old Fable, in sted of a Charme; both which he sent to the Lady, -so soone as he thought the time to be fitting: and this admonition -withall, that the Moone being entering into the full, without -any longer delay, she might venter on the businesse the next night -following, and remaine assured to repossesse her friend. Afterward -for the better pleasing of himselfe, he went secretly attended, onely -by his servant, to the house of a trusty friend of his, who dwelt somwhat -neere to the Turret, there to expect the issue of this Lady-like -enterprize. And Madam <i>Helena</i> accompanied with none but <i>Ancilla</i>, -walked on to her dairy Farme, where the night ensuing, pretending -to take her rest sooner then formerly she used to doe, she commanded -<i>Ancilla</i> to go to bed, referring her selfe to her best liking.</p> - -<p>After she had slept her first sleepe (according to the Schollers direction) -departing softly out of her chamber, she went on towards -the ancient Tower, standing hard by the river of <i>Arno</i>, looking every -way heedfully about hir, least she should be spied by any person. -But perceiving hir selfe to be so secure as she could desire; putting -off all her garments, she hid them in a small brake of bushes: afterward, -holding the Image in hir hand, seven times she bathd hir body -in the river, and then returned back with it to the Tower. The -Scholler, who at the nights closing up of day, had hid himselfe among -the willowes & other trees, which grew very thick about the -Tower, saw both hir going and returning from the River, and as she -passed thus naked by him, he plainly perceyved, that the nights obscurity -could not cloud the delicate whitenes of hir body, but made -the Starres themselves to gaze amorously on her, even as if they -were proud to behold her bathing, and (like so many twinkling Tapers) -shewed hir in emulation of another <i>Diana</i>. Now, what conflicts -this sight caused in the mind of our Scholler, one while, quenching -his hatefull spleen towards hir, al coveting to imbrace a piece -of such perfection: another while, thinking it a purchase fit for one -of <i>Cupids</i> soldiers, to seize and surprize hir uppon so faire an advantage, -none being neere to yeild her rescue: in the fiery triall of such -temptations, I am not able to judge, or to say, what resistance flesh -and blood could make, being opposed with such a sweet enemy.</p> - -<p>But he well considering what she was, the greatnes of his injury, -as also how, and for whom: he forgot all wanton allurements of -Love, scorning to entertaine a thought of compassion, continuing -constant in his resolution, to let her suffer, as he himselfe had done. -So, <i>Helena</i> being mounted up on the Turret, and turning her face -towards the North; she repeated those idle frivolous words (composed -in the nature of a charme) which shee had received from the -Scholler. Afterward, by soft and stealing steps, hee went into the -old Tower, and tooke away the Ladder, whereby she ascended to -the Tarras, staying and listening, how shee proceeded in her amorous -exorcisme.</p> - -<p>Seven times she rehearsed the charme to the Image, looking still -when the two Ladies would appeare in their likenesse, and so long -she held on her imprecations (feeling greater cold, then willinglie -she would have done) that breake of day began to shew it selfe, and -halfe despairing of the Ladies comming, according as the Scholler -had promised, she said to her selfe: I much misdoubt, that <i>Reniero</i> -hath quitted me with such another peece of night-service, as it was -my lucke to bestow on him: but if he have done it in that respect, hee -was but ill advised in his revenge, because the night wants now three -parts of the length, as then it had: and the cold which he suffered, was -far superior in quality to mine, albeit it is more sharp now in the morning, -then all the time of night it hath bin.</p> - -<p>And, because day-light should not discover her on the Tarrasse, -she went to make her descent downe againe: but finding the Ladder -to be taken away, & thinking how her publike shame was now -inevitable, her heart dismayed, and shee fell downe in a swoune on -the Tarras: yet recovering her senses afterward, her greefe and sorow -exceeded all capacity of utterance. For, now she became fully -perswaded, that this proceeded from the Schollers malice, repenting -for her unkinde usage towards him, but much more condemning -her selfe, for reposing any trust in him, who stood bound -(by good reason) to be her enemy.</p> - -<p>Continuing long in this extreame affliction, and surveighing all -likely meanes about her, whereby she might descend from the Tarras, -whereof she was wholly disappointed: she began to sighe and -weepe exceedingly, and in this heavy perplexity of spirit, thus shee -complained to her selfe. Miserable and unfortunate <i>Helena</i>, what -will be saide by thy Bretheren, Kindred, Neighbours, and generallie -throughout all <i>Florence</i>, when they shall know, that thou wast founde -heere on this Turret, starke naked? Thine honourable carriage, and -honesty of life, heeretofore free from a thought of suspition, shall now -be branded with detestation; and if thou wouldst cloud this mishappe -of thine, by such lies and excuses, as are not rare amongst women: yet -<i>Reniero</i> that wicked Scholler, who knoweth all thy privy compacting, -will stand as a thousand witnesses against thee, and shame thee before -the whole City, so both thine honour and loved friend are lost for ever.</p> - -<p>Having thus consulted with her selfe, many desperate motions -entred her minde, to throw her selfe headlong from off the Tarras; -till better thoughts wone possession of her soule. And the Sunne -being risen, shee went to every corner of the Tarras, to espye any -Lad come abroad with his beasts, by whom she might send for her -waiting-woman. About this instant, the Scholler who lay sleeping -(all this while) under a bush, suddenly awaking; saw her looke over -the wall, and she likewise espyed him; whereupon hee said unto -her. Good morrow Madame <i>Helena</i>, What? are the Ladies come yet -or no? <i>Helena</i> hearing his scorning question, and grieving that hee -should so delude her; in teares and lamentations, she intreated him -to come neere the Tower, because she desired to speake with him. -Which courtesie he did not deny her, and she lying groveling upon -her brest on the Tarras, to hide her body that no part thereof -might be seene, but her head; weeping, she spake thus to him.</p> - -<p><i>Reniero</i>, upon my credit, if I gave thee an ill nights rest, thou hast -well revenged that wrong on me; for, although wee are now in the -moneth of <i>July</i>, I have beene plagued with extremity of colde (in regard -of my nakednesse) even almost frozen to death: beside my continuall -teares and lamenting, that folly perswaded me to beleeve thy protestations, -wherein I account it well-neere miraculous, that mine eyes -should be capable of any sight. And therefore I pray thee, not in respect -of any love which thou canst pretend to beare me; but for regard of thine -owne selfe, being a Gentleman and a Scholler, that this punishment which -thou hast already inflicted upon me, may suffise for my former injuries -towards thee, and to hold thy selfe revenged fully, as also permit my garments -to be brought me, that I may descend from hence, without taking -that from me, which afterward (although thou wouldst) thou canst never -restore me, I meane mine honour. And consider with thy selfe, that -albeit thou didst not injoy my company that unhappy night, yet thou hast -power to command me at any time whensoever, with making many diversities -of amends, for one nights offence only committed. Content thy selfe -then good <i>Reniero</i>, and as thou art an honest Gentleman, say thou art -sufficiently revenged on me, in making me dearely confesse mine owne -error. Never exercise thy malice upon a poore weake woman, for the -Eagle disdaineth to pray on the yeelding Dove: and therefore in meere -pitty, and for manhoods sake, be my release from open shame and reproch.</p> - -<p>The Scholler, whose envious spleene was swolne very great, in -remembring such a malicious cruelty exercised on him, beholding -her to weepe and make such lamentations; found a fierce conflict -in his thoughts, betweene content and pitty. It did not a little joy -and content him, that the revenge which hee so earnestly desired to -compasse, was now by him so effectually inflicted. And yet (in meere -humanity) pitty provoked him to commisserate the Ladies distressed -condition: but clemency being over-weake to withstand his -rigour, thus he replied. Madame <i>Helena</i>, if my entreaties (which, to -speake truly, I never knew how to steepe in tears, nor wrap up my words -in sugar Candie, so cuningly as you women know how to do) could have -prevailed, that miserable night, when I was well-neere frozen to death -with cold, and meerly buried with snow in your Court, not having anie -place of rescue or shelter; your complaints would now the more easily over-rule -me. But if your honour in estimation, bee now more precious to -you then heretofore, and it seemeth so offensive to stand there naked: -convert your perswasions & prayers to him, in whose armes you were -that night imbraced, both of your triumphing in my misery, when poor -I, trotted about your Court, with the teeth quivering in my head, and -beating mine armes about my body, finding no compassion in him, or -you. Let him bring thee thy Garments, let him come helpe thee down -with the Ladder, and let him have the care of thine honour, on whom -thou hast bene so prodigall heretofore in bestowing it, and now hast unwomanly -throwne thy selfe in perill, onely for the maintenance of thine -immodest desires.</p> - -<p>Why dost thou not call on him to come helpe thee? To whom doeth it -more belong, then to him? For thou art his, and he thine, why then shold -any other but he help thee in this distresse? Call him (foole as thou art) -and try, if the love he beareth thee, and thy best understanding joyned -with his, can deliver thee out of my sottish detaining thee. I have not -forgot, that when you both made a pastime of my misery, thou didst demand -of him, which seemed greatest in his opinion, either my sottish -simplicity, or the love thou barest him. I am not now so liberall or courteous, -to desire that of thee, which thou wouldst not grant, if I did request it: -No, no, reserve those night favours for thy amorous friend, if -thou dost escape hence alive to see him againe. As for my selfe, I leave -thee freely to his use and service: because I have sufficiently payde for a -womans falshood, & wise men take such warning, that they scorne to bee -twice deceived, & by one woman. Proceed on stil in thy flattering perswasions, -terming me to be a Gentleman and a Scholler, thereby to win -such favor from me, that I should think thy villany toward me, to be already -sufficiently punished. No, trecherous <i>Helena</i>, thy blandishments -cannot now hoodwink the eies of my understanding, as when thou didst -out-reach me with thy disloyall promises and protestations. And let -me now tell thee plainely, that all the while I continued in the Universitie -of <i>Paris</i>, I never attained unto so perfect an understanding -of my selfe, as in that one miserable night thou diddest enstruct mee. -But admit, that I were enclined unto a mercifull and compassionate -minde, yet thou art none of them, on whome milde and gracious -mercy should any way declare her effects. For, the end of pennance among -savage beasts, such as thou art, and likewise of due vengeance, -ought to be death: whereas among men, it should suffice according to -thine owne saying. Wherefore, in regard that I am neither an Eagle, -nor thou a Dove, but rather a most venomous Serpent: I purpose with -my utmost hatred, and as an ancient enemy to all such as thou art, to -make my revenge famous on thee.</p> - -<p>I am not ignorant, that whatsoever I have already done unto thee, -cannot properly be termed revenge, but rather chastisement; because -revenge ought alwayes to exceede the offence, which (as yet) I am farre -enough from. For, if I did intend to revenge my wrongs, and remembred -thy monstrous cruelty to me: thy life, if I tooke it from thee, and -an hundred more such as thy selfe, were farre insufficient, because in -killing thee, I should kill but a vile inhumane beast, yea, one that deserved -not the name of a Woman. And, to speake truely, Art thou any -more, or better (setting aside thy borrowed haire, and painted beauty, -which in few yeares will leave thee wrinkled and deformed) then the -basest beggarly Chamber-stuffe that can bee? Yet thou soughtest the -death of a Gentleman and Scholler as (in scorne) not long since, thou -didst terme me: whose life may hereafter be more beneficiall unto the -world, then millions of such as thou art, to live in the like multiplicity -of ages. Therefore, if this anguish be sensible to thee, learne what it is -to mocke men of apprehension, and (amongst them especially) such as -are Schollers: to prevent thy falling hereafter into the like extremity, -if it be thy good lucke to escape out of this.</p> - -<p>It appeareth to me, that thou art verie desirous to come downe hither -on the ground; the best counsell that I can give thee, is to leape -downe headlong, that by breaking thy necke (if thy fortune be so faire) -thy life and lothsome qualities ending together, I may sit and smile at -thy deserved destruction. I have no other comfort to give thee, but only -to boast my happinesse, in teaching thee the way to ascend that Tower, -and in thy descending downe (even by what means thy wit can best -devise) make a mockery of me, and say thou hast learned more, then all -my Schollership could instruct thee.</p> - -<p>All the while as <i>Reniero</i> uttered these speeches, the miserable Lady -sighed and wept very grievously, the time running on, and the -Sunne amending higher and higher; but when she heard him silent, -thus she answered. Unkinde and cruell man, if that wretched night -was so greevous to thee, and mine offence appeared so great, as neither -my youth, beautie, teares, and humble intercessions, are able to derive -any mercy from thee; yet let the last consideration moove thee to -some remorse: namely, that I reposed new confidence in thee (when I had -little or no reason at all to trust thee) and discovered the integritie of -my soule unto thee, whereby thou didst compasse the meanes, to punish -me thus deservedly for my sinne. For, if I had not reposed confidence -in thee, thou couldst not (in this manner) have wrought revenge on me, -which although thou didst earnestly covet, yet my rash credulitie was -thy onely helpe. Asswage then thine anger, and graciously pardon me, -wherein if thou wilt be so mercifull to me, and free me from this fatall -Tower: I do heere faithfully promise thee, to forsake my most false -and disloyall friend, electing thee as my Lord and constant Love for -ever.</p> - -<p>Moreover, although thou condemnest my beauty greatly, esteeming it -as a trifle, momentary, and of slender continuance; yet, such as it is (being -comparable with any other womans whatsoever) I am not so ignorant, -that were there no other reason to induce liking thereof: yet men in the -vigour of their youth (as I am sure you think yourselfe not aged) do hold -it for an especiall delight, ordained by nature for them to admire and honour. -And notwithstanding all thy cruelty extended to mee, yet I cannot -be perswaded, that thou art so flinty or Iron-hearted, as to desire my miserable -death, by casting my selfe headlong downe (like a desperate madde -woman) before thy face so to destroy that beauty, which (if thy Letters lyed -not) was once so highly pleasing in thine eyes. Take pitty then on mee -for charities sake, because the Sunne beginneth to heate extreamely: and -as over-much colde (that unhappy night) was mine offence, so let not over-violent -warmth be now my utter ruine and death.</p> - -<p>The Scholler, who (onely to delight himselfe) maintained this -long discoursing with her, returned her this answere. Madame, you -did not repose such confidence in me, for any good will or affection in you -towards me, but in hope of recovering him whom you had lost; wherein -you merit not a jot of favour, but rather the more sharpe and severe infliction. -And whereas you inferre, that your over-rash credulity, gave -the onely meanes to my revenge: Alas! therein you deceive your selfe; -for I have a thousand crochets working continually in my brain, whereby -to entrap a wiser creature then a woman, yet veiled all under the -cunning cloake of love, but sauced with the bitter Wormewood of hate. -So that, had not this hapned as now it doth, of necessity you must have -falne into another: but, as it hath pleased my happy stars to favour mee -therein, none could proove more to your eternall scandall and disgrace, -then this of your owne devising, which I made choise of, not in regard -of any ease to you, but onely to content my selfe.</p> - -<p>But if all other devises els had failed, my pen was and is my prevayling -Champion, where-with I would have written such and so many -strange matters, concerning you in your very dearest reputation; that -you should have curst the houre of your conception, & wisht your birth -had bin abortive. The powers of the pen are too many & mighty, whereof -such weake wits as have made no experience, are the lesse able to use -any relation. I sweare to you Lady, by my best hopes, that this revenge -which (perhappes) you esteeme great and dishonourable, is no way -compareable to the wounding Lines of a Penne, which can charracter -downe so infinite infamies (yet none but guilty and true taxations) as -will make your owne hands immediate instruments, to teare the eyes -from forth your head, and so bequeath your after dayes unto perpetuall -darkenesse.</p> - -<p>Now, concerning your lost lover, for whose sake you suffer this unexpected -pennance; although your choise hath proved but bad, yet still -continue your affection to him: in regard that I have another Ladie -and Mistresse, of higher and greater desert then you, and to whome I -will continue for ever constant. And whereas you thinke, the warme -beames of the Sunne, will be too hot and scorching for your nice bodie -to endure: remember the extreame cold which you caused mee to feele, -and if you can intermixe some part of that cold with the present heat, -I dare assure you, the Sun (in his highest heate) will be far more temperate -for your feeling.</p> - -<p>The disconsolate Lady perceiving, that the Schollers wordes favoured -of no mercy, but rather as coveting her desperate ending; -with the teares streaming downe her cheekes, thus she replied. Wel -Sir, seeing there is no matter of worth in me, whereby to derive any -compassion from you: yet for that Ladies sake, whom you have -elected worthy to enjoy your love, and so farre excelleth mee in -Wisedome; vouchsafe to pardon mee, and suffer my garments to -be brought me, wherewith to cover my nakednesse, and so to descend -downe from this Tower, if it may stand with your gentle Nature -to admit it.</p> - -<p>Now beganne <i>Reniero</i> to laughe very heartily, and perceiving -how swiftly the day ran on in his course, he saide unto her. Beleeve -me Madame <i>Helena</i>, you have so conjured me by mine endeered Ladie -and Mistresse, that I am no longer able to deny you; wherefore, tell me -where your garments are, and I will bring them to you, that you may -come downe from the Turret. She beleeving his promise, tolde him -where she had hid them, and <i>Reniero</i> departing from the Tower, -commanded his servant, not to stirre thence: but to abide still so -neere it, as none might get entrance there till his returning. Which -charge was no sooner given to his man, but hee went to the house -of a neere neighbouring friend, where he dined well, and afterward -laid him downe to sleepe.</p> - -<p>In the meane while, Madame <i>Helena</i> remaining still on the Tower, -began to comfort her selfe with a little vaine hope, yet sighing -and weeping incessantly, seating her selfe so well as shee could, -where any small shelter might yeelde the least shade, in expectation -of the Schollers returning: one while weeping, then againe hoping, -but most of all despairing, by his so long tarrying away with -her Garments; so that beeing over-wearied with anguish and long -watching, she fell into a little slumbering. But the Sunne was so -extreamly hot, the houre of noone being already past, that it meerly -parched her delicate body, and burnt her bare head so violently: -as not onely it seared all the flesh it touched; but also cleft & chinkt -it strangely, beside blisters and other painfull scorchings in the flesh -which hindred her sleeping, to help her self (by all possible means) -waking. And the Turret being covered with Lead, gave the greater -addition to her torment; for, as she removed from one place to -another, it yeelded no mitigation to the burning heate, but parched -and wrinkled the flesh extraordinarily, even as when a piece of -parchment is throwne into the fire, and recovered out againe, can -never be extended to his former forme.</p> - -<p>Moreover, she was so grievously payned with the head-ake, as it -seemed to split in a thousand pieces, whereat there needed no great -marvaile, the Lead of the Turret being so exceedingly hot, that it -affoorded not the least defence against it, or any repose to qualifie -the torment: but drove her still from one place to another, in hope -of ease, but none was there to be found.</p> - -<p>Nor was there any winde at all stirring, whereby to asswage the -Sunnes violent scalding, or keepe away huge swarmes of Waspes, -Hornets, and terrible byting Flyes, which vexed her extreamely, -feeding on those parts of her body, that were rifte and chinkt, like -crannies in a mortered wall, and pained her like so many points of -pricking Needles, labouring still with her hands to beate them away, -but yet they fastned on one place or other, and afflicted her -in grievous manner, causing her to curse her owne life, hir amorous -friend, but (most of all) the Scholler, that promised to bring her -Garments, and as yet returned not. Now began she to gaze upon -every side about her, to espy some labouring Husbandmen in the -fields, to whom she might call or cry out for helpe, not fearing to -discover her desperate condition: but Fortune therein also was adverse -to her, because the heats extreamity, had driven all the village -out of the fields, causing them to feede their Cattle about theyr -owne houses, or in remote and shadie Valleyes: so that shee could -see no other creatures to comfort her, but Swannes swimming in -the River of <i>Arno</i>, and wishing her selfe there a thousand times with -them, for to coole the extreamity of her thirst, which so much the -more encreased, onely by the sight thereof, and utterly disabled of -having any.</p> - -<p>She saw beside in many places about her, goodly Woods, fayre -coole shades, and Country houses here and there dispersed; which -added the greater violence to hir affliction, that her desires (in all -these) could no way be accomplished. What shall I say more concerning -this disastrous Lady? The parching beames of the Sunne -above her, the scalding heat of the Lead beneath her, the Hornets -and Flyes everie way stinging her, had made such an alteration of -her beautifull bodie: that, as it checkt and controlled the precedent -nights darkenesse, it was now so metamorphosed with rednesse, -yea, and blood issuing forth in infinite places, as she seemed -(almost) loathsome to looke on, continuing still in this agonie of -torment, quite voyde of all hope, and rather expecting death, then -any other comfort.</p> - -<p><i>Reniero</i>, when some three houres of the afternoone were overpast, -awaked from sleeping: and remembring Madame <i>Helena</i>, he -went to see in what estate she was; as also to send his servant unto -dinner, because he had fasted all that day. She perceyving his arrivall, -being altogether weake, faint, and wonderously over-wearied, -she crept on her knees to a corner of the Turret, and calling to -him, spake in this manner. <i>Reniero</i>, thy revenge exceedeth al manhoode -and respect: For, if thou wast almost frozen in my Court, -thou hast roasted me all day long on this Tower, yea, meerly broyled -my poore naked bodie, beside starving mee thorough want of -Food and drinke. Be now then so mercifull (for manhoods sake) -as to come uppe hither, and inflict that on me, which mine owne -hands are not strong enough to do, I meane the ending of my loathed -and wearisome life, for I desire it beyond all comfort else, and -I shall honour thee in the performance of it. If thou deny me this -gracious favour; at least send me uppe a glasse of Water, onely -to moisten my mouth, which my teares (being all meerly dried up) -are not able to doe, so extreame is the violence of the Sunnes burning -heate.</p> - -<p>Well perceived the Scholler, by the weaknesse of her voyce, and -scorching of her body by the Suns parching beames, that shee was -brought now to great extremity: which sight, as also her humble intercession, -began to touch him with some compassion, nevertheles, -thus he replied. Wicked woman, my hands shal be no means of thy -death, but make use of thine owne, if thou be so desirous to have it: -and as much water shalt thou get of me to asswage thy thirst, as thou -gavest me fire to comfort my freezing, when thou wast in the luxurious -heat of thy immodest desires, and I wel-neere frozen to death -with extremity of cold. Pray that the Evening may raine downe -Rose-water on thee, because that in the River of <i>Arno</i> is not good -enough for thee: for as little pitty doe I take on thee now, as thou -didst extend compassion to me then.</p> - -<p>Miserable Woman that I am, answered <i>Helena</i>; Why did the heavens -bestow beautie on mee, which others have admired and honoured, -and yet (by thee) is utterly despised? More cruell art thou then -any savage Beast; thus to vexe and torment mee in such mercilesse -manner. What greater extreamity couldst thou inflict on me, if I had -bin the destruction of all thy Kindred, and lefte no one man living of -thy race? I am verily perswaded, that more cruelty cannot be used against -a Traitor, who was the subversion of a whole Cittie, then this -tyranny of thine, roasting me thus in the beames of the Sun, and suffering -my body to be devoured with Flies, without so small a mercie; as -to give mee a little coole water, which murtherers are permitted to -have, being condemned by Justice, and led to execution: yea Wine also, -if they request it.</p> - -<p>But, seeing thou art so constant in thy pernitious resolve, as neither -thine owne good Nature, nor this lamentable sufferance in me, are able -to alter thee: I will prepare my self for death patiently, to the end, that -Heaven may be mercifull to my soul, and reward thee justly, according -to thy cruelty. Which words being ended, she withdrew her selfe -towards the middest of the Tarras, despairing of escaping (with -life) from the heates violence; and not once onely, but infinite -times beside (among her other grievous extreamities) she was ready -to dye with drought, bemoaning incessantly her dolorous condition.</p> - -<p>By this time the day was well neere spent, and night beganne to -hasten on apace: when the Scholler (immagining that he afflicted -her sufficiently) tooke her Garments, and wrapping them up in his -mans Cloake, went thence to the Ladies house, where he found -<i>Ancilla</i> the Waiting-woman sitting at the doore, sad and disconsolate -for her Ladies long absence, to whom thus he spake. How -now <i>Ancilla</i>? Where is thy Lady and Mistris? Alas Sir (quoth -she) I know not. I thought this morning to have found her in her -bed, as usually I was wont to do, and where I left her yesternight -at our parting: but there she was not, nor in any place else of my -knowledge, neyther can I imagine what is become of her, which is -to me no meane discomfort.</p> - -<p>But can you (Sir) say any thing of her? <i>Ancilla</i>, said he, I would -thou hadst bin in her company, and at the same place where now -she is, that some punishment for thy fault might have falne uppon -thee, as already it hath done on her. But beleeve it assuredly, that -thou shalt not freely escape from my fingers, till I have justly paide -thee for thy paines, to teach thee to abuse any Gentleman, as thou -didst me.</p> - -<p>Having thus spoken, hee called to his servant, saying. Give her -the Garments, and bid her go looke her Lady, if she will. The Servingman -fulfilled his Masters command, and <i>Ancilla</i> having receyved -her Ladies cloaths, knowing them perfectly, and remembring -(withall) what had bin said: she waxed very doubtfull, least they -had slaine her, hardly refraining from exclaiming on them, but that -greefe and heavie weeping overcame her; so that uppon the Schollers -departing, she ranne in all hast with the garments towardes the -Tower.</p> - -<p>Upon this fatall and unfortunate day to Madame <i>Helena</i>, it chanced, -that a Clowne or Countrey Peazant belonging to her Farme -or Dairy house, having two of his young Heyfers wandred astray, -and he labouring in diligent search to finde them: within a while -after the Schollers departure, came to seeke them in Woods about -the Tower, and, notwithstanding all his crying and calling for his -beasts, yet he heard the Ladies greevous moanes and lamentations. -Wherefore, he cryed out so lowd as he could, saying: Who is it -that mourneth so aloft on the Tower? Full well she knew the voyce -of her peazant, and therefore called unto him, and sayd in this manner.</p> - -<p>Go (quoth she) I pray thee for my Waiting-woman <i>Ancilla</i>, and -bid her make some meanes to come up hither to me. The Clowne -knowing his Lady, sayde. How now Madame? Who hath carried -you up there so high? Your Woman <i>Ancilla</i> hath sought for -you all this day, yet no one could ever have immagined you to bee -there. So looking about him, he espyed the two sides of the Ladder, -which the Scholler had pulled in sunder; as also the steppes, -which he had scattered thereabout; placing them in due order againe -as they should bee, and binding them fast with Withies and -Willowes.</p> - -<p>By this time <i>Ancilla</i> was come thither, who so soone as shee was -entred into the Tower, could not refrain from teares & complaints, -beating her hands each against other, and crying out. Madam, Madam, -my deare Lady and Mistresse! Alas, Where are you? So -soone as she heard the tongue of <i>Ancilla</i>, she replyed (so well as she -could) saying: Ah my sweet Woman, I am heere aloft uppon the -Tarras; weepe not, neyther make any noyse, but quickely bring me -some of my Garments. When shee heard her answer in such comfortable -manner, she mounted up the Ladder, which the peazant had -made very firme and strong, holding it fast for her safer ascending; -by which meanes she went upon the Tarras. Beholding her Ladie -in so strange a condition, resembling no humane body, but rather -the trunke of a Tree halfe burned, lying flat on her face, naked, scorched -and strangely deformed: shee beganne to teare the lockes of -her owne hayre, raving and raging in as pittifull manner, as if her -Ladie had beene quite dead. Which storming tempest, Madame -<i>Helena</i> soone pacified, entreating her to use silence, and helpe to put -on her garments.</p> - -<p>Having understood by her, that no one knew of her being there, -but such as brought her cloathes, and the poore peazant, attending -there still to do her any service: shee became the better comforted, -entreating them by all meanes, that it might bee concealed from any -further discovery, which was on eyther side, most faithfullie -protested.</p> - -<p>The poore Clowne holpe to beare downe his Lady uppon his -backe, because the Ladder stood not conveniently enough for her -descending, neither were her limbes plyable for her owne use, by -reason of their rifts and smarting. <i>Ancilla</i> following after, and being -more respective of her Lady, then her owne security in descending; -missing the step in the midst of the Ladder, fell downe to the -ground, and quite brake her legge in the fall, the paine whereof was -so greevous to her, that she cried and roared extraordinarily, even -like a Lyon in the desert.</p> - -<p>When the Clowne had set his Lady safe on a faire green banke, -he returned to see what the waiting woman ayled, and finding her -leg to be quite broken: he caried her also to the same banke, & there -seated her by her Lady: who perceiving what a mischance had hapned, -and she, from whom she expected her onely best helpe, to bee -now in far greater necessity her selfe: shee lamented exceedingly, -complaining on Fortunes cruel malice toward her, in thus heaping -one misery upon another, and never ceasing to torment her, especially -now in the conclusion of all, and when shee thought all future -perils to be past.</p> - -<p>Now was the Sun upon his setting, when the poore honest country-man, -because darke night should not overtake them, conducted -the Lady home to his owne house: and gaining the assistance of his -two brethren and wife, setting the waiting-woman in a Chaire, thither -they brought her in like manner. And questionles, there wanted -no diligence and comfortable language, to pacifie the Ladyes -continuall lamentations. The good wife, led the Lady into hir own -poore lodging, where (such cates as they had to feede on) lovingly -she set before her: conveying her afterward into her owne bed, and -taking such good order, that <i>Ancilla</i> was carried in the night time -to <i>Florence</i>, to prevent all further ensuing danger, by reason of her -legs breaking.</p> - -<p>Madame <i>Helena</i>, to colour this misfortune of her owne: as also -the great mishap of her woman: forged an artificiall and cunning -tale, to give some formall apparance of hir being in the Tower, perswading -the poore simple Country people, that in a straunge accident -of thunder and lightning, and by the illusions of wicked spirits, -all this adventure hapned to her. Then Physitians were sent -for; who, not without much anguish and affliction to the Ladie (by -reason of her fleshes flaying off, with the Medicines and Emplaysters -applyed to the body) was glad to suffer whatsoever they did, -beside falling into a very dangerous Feaver; out of which she was -not recovered in a long while after, but continued in daily dispayre -of her life; beside other accidents hapning in her time of Physicke, -utterly unavoydable in such extreamities: and hardly had <i>Ancilla</i> -her legge cured.</p> - -<p>By this unexpected pennance imposed on Madame <i>Helena</i>, she -utterly forgot her amorous friend, and (from thence forward) carefully -kept her selfe from fond loves allurements, and such scornfull -behaviour, wherein she was most disorderly faulty. And <i>Reniero</i> -the Scholler, understanding that <i>Ancilla</i> had broken her leg, which -he reputed as a punishment sufficient for her, held himselfe satisfyed, -because neither the Mistresse nor her Maide, could now make any -great boast, of his nights hard entertainment, and so concealed -all matters else.</p> - -<p>Thus a wanton-headed Lady, could finde no other subject to -worke her mocking folly on, but a learned Scholler, of whom shee -made no more respect, then any other ordinary man. Never remembring, -that such men are expert (I cannot say all, but the greater -part of them) to helpe the frenzie of foolish Ladies, that must injoy -their loose desires, by Negromancy, and the Divelles meanes. -Let it therefore (faire Ladies) be my loving admonition to you, to -detest all unwomanly mocking and scorning, but more especiallie -to Schollers.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Two_neere_dwelling_Neighbours_the_one_beeing_named_Spinelloccio" id="Two_neere_dwelling_Neighbours_the_one_beeing_named_Spinelloccio"><i>Two neere dwelling Neighbours, the one beeing named</i> Spinelloccio -Tavena, <i>and the other</i> Zeppa di Mino, <i>frequenting each others -company daily together;</i> Spinelloccio <i>Cuckolded his Friend and -Neighbour. Which happening to the knowledge of</i> Zeppa, <i>he prevailed -so well with the Wife of</i> Spinelloccio, <i>that he being lockt up -in a Chest, he revenged his wrong at that instant, so that neither of -them complained of his misfortune.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Eight Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is approved, that he which offereth shame and disgrace to his -Neighbour; may receive the like injury (if not in worse manner) by -the same man.</i></h4> - - -<p>Greevous, and full of compassion, appeared the hard Fortunes -of Madame <i>Helena</i> to be, having much discontented, -and (well-neere) wearied all the Ladies in hearing -them recounted. But because they were very justly inflicted upon -her, and according as (in equity) shee had deserved, they were the -more moderate in their commisseration: howbeit, they reputed the -Scholler not onely over-obstinate, but also too strict, rigorous and -severe. Wherefore, when Madame <i>Pampinea</i> had finished hir Novell, -the Queene gave command to Madame <i>Fiammetta</i>, that she -should follow next with her discourse; whereto shee shewing obedience, -thus beganne.</p> - -<p>Because it appeareth in my judgement (faire Ladyes) that the -Schollers cruelty hath much displeased you, making you more melancholly -then this time requireth: I holde it therefore very convenient, -that your contristed spirits should be chearfully revived, with -matter more pleasing and delightfull. And therefore, I mean to report -a Novell of a certaine man, who tooke an injury done him, in -much milder manner, and revenged his wrong more moderately, -then the furious incensed Scholler did. Whereby you may comprehend, -that it is sufficient for any man, and so he ought to esteeme -it, to serve another with the same sawce, which the offending party -caused him first to taste of: without coveting any stricter revenge, -then agreeth with the quality of the injury received.</p> - -<p>Know then (Gracious assembly) that, as I have heretofore heard, -there lived not long since in <i>Sienna</i>, two young men, of honest parentage -and equall condition, neither of the best, nor yet the meanest -calling in the City: the one being named <i>Spinelloccio Tavena</i>, -and the other tearmed <i>Zeppa di Mino</i>, their houses Neighbouring -together in the streete <i>Camollia</i>. Seldome the one walked abroade -without the others Company, and their houses allowed equall welcome -to them both; so that by outward demonstrations, & inward -mutuall affection, as far as humane capacity had power to extend, -they lived and loved like two Brethren, they both beeing wealthy, -and married unto two beautifull women.</p> - -<p>It came to passe, that <i>Spinelloccio</i>, by often resorting to the house -of <i>Zeppa</i>, as well in his absence, as when he abode at home; beganne -to glance amorous looks on <i>Zeppaes</i> wife, and pursued his unneighbourly -purpose in such sort: that hee being the stronger perswader, -and she (belike) too credulous in beleeving, or else over-feeble in -resisting; from private imparlance, they fell to action; and continued -their close fight a long while together, unseene and without -suspition, no doubt to their equall joy and contentment.</p> - -<p>But, whether as a just punishment, for breaking so loving a league -of friendship and neighbour-hood, or rather a fatall infliction, evermore -attending on the closest Cuckoldry, their felicity still continuing -in this kinde: it fortuned on a day, <i>Zeppa</i> abiding within doors, -contrary to the knowledge of his wife, <i>Spinelloccio</i> came to enquire -for him, and she answering (as she verily supposed) that he was gone -abroad: uppe they went both together into the Hall, and nobodie -being there to hinder what they intended, they fell to their wonted -recreation without any feare, kissing and embracing as Lovers use -to do.</p> - -<p><i>Zeppa</i> seeing all this, spake not one word, neither made any noise -at all; but kept himselfe closely hidden, to observe the yssue of this -amorous conflict. To be briefe, he saw <i>Spinelloccio</i> goe with his -wife into the Chamber, and make the doore fast after them, whereat -he could have beene angry, which he held to be no part of true -wisedome. For he knew well enough, that to make an out crie in -this case, or otherwise to reveale this kinde of injury, it could no -way make it lesse, but rather give a greater addition of shame and -scandall: he thought this no course for him to take; wiser considerations -entred his braine, to have this wrong fully revenged, yet -with such a discreete and orderly carriage, as no neighbours knowledge -should by any meanes apprehend it, or the least signe of discontent -in himselfe blabbe it, because they were two daungerous -evils.</p> - -<p>Many notable courses wheeled about his conceit, every one promising -fairely, and ministring meanes of formall apparance, yet one -(above the rest) wonne his absolute allowance, which he intended -to prosecute as best he might. In which resolution, he kept still very -close, so long as <i>Spinelloccio</i> was with his Wife; but hee being -gone, he went into the Chamber, where he found his wife, amending -the forme of her head attyre, which <i>Spinelloccio</i> had put into -a disordred fashion. Wife (quoth he) what art thou doing? Why? -Do you not see Husband? answered she. Yes that I do wife, replied -<i>Zeppa</i>, and something else happened to my sight, which I could -wish that I had not seene. Rougher Language growing betweene -them, of his avouching, and her as stout denying, with defending -her cause over-weakely, against the manifest proofes both of eye -and eare; at last she fell on her knees before him, weeping incessantly, -and no excuses now availing, she confest her long acquaintance -with <i>Spinelloccio</i>, and most humbly entreated him to forgive -her. Uppon the which penitent confession and submission, <i>Zeppa</i> -thus answered.</p> - -<p>Wife, if inward contrition be answerable to thy outward seeming -sorrow, then I make no doubt, but faithfully thou dost acknowledge -thine owne evill dooing: for which, if thou expectest pardon -of me; determine then to fulfill effectually, such a busines as I must -enjoyne, and thou performe. I command thee to tell <i>Spinelloccio</i>, -that to morrow morning, about nine of the clocke, we being both -abroad walking, he must finde some apt occasion to leave my company, -and then come hither to visit thee. When he is here, sodainly -will I returne home; and upon thy hearing of my entraunce: to -save his owne credite, and thee from detection, thou shalt require -him to enter this Chest, untill such time as I am gone forth againe; -which he doing, for both your safeties, so soon as he is in the chest, -take the key and locke him up fast. When thou hast effected this, -then shall I acquaint thee with the rest remaining, which also must -be done by thee, without dread of the least harme to him or thee, -because there is no malicious meaning in me, but such as (I am perswaded) -thou canst not justly mislike. The wife, to make some satisfaction -for her offence committed, promised that she would performe -it, and so she did.</p> - -<p>On the morrow morning, the houre of nine being come, when -<i>Zeppa</i> and <i>Spinelloccio</i> were walking abroad together, <i>Spinelloccio</i> -remembring his promise unto his Mistresse, and the clocke telling -him the appointed houre, hee saide to <i>Zeppa</i>. I am to dine this day -with an especiall friend of mine, who I would be loath should tarry -for my comming; and therefore holde my departure excused. -How now? answered <i>Zeppa</i>, the time for dinner is yet farre enough -off, wherefore then should we part so soone? Yea but <i>Zeppa</i>, replied -<i>Spinelloccio</i>, wee have weighty matters to confer on before dinner, -which will require three houres space at the least, and therefore -it behoveth me to respect due time.</p> - -<p><i>Spinelloccio</i> being departed from Zeppa (who followed faire and -softly after him) being come to the house, and kindly welcommed -by the wife: they were no sooner gone up the staires, and entering -in at the Chamber doore; but the Woman heard her Husband -cough, and also his comming up the staires. Alas deare <i>Spinelloccio</i> -(quoth she) what shall we do? My Husband is comming uppe, -and we shall be both taken tardie, step into this Chest, lye downe -there and stirre not, till I have sent him forth againe, which shall be -within a very short while. <i>Spinelloccio</i> was not a little joyfull for -her good advice; downe in the Chest lay he, and she lockt him in: -by which time <i>Zeppa</i> was entred the Chamber. Where are you -Wife? said he, (speaking so loud, as hee in the Chest might heare -him) What, is it time to go to dinner? It will be anon Sir, answered -she, as yet it is overearly; but seeing you are come, the more hast -shall be made, and every thing will be ready quickly.</p> - -<p><i>Zeppa</i>, sitting downe upon the Chest, wherein <i>Spinelloccio</i> lay -not a little affrighted, speaking stil aloud, as formerly he did: Come -hither Wife (quoth he) how shall we do for some good companie -to dine with us? Mine honest kinde neighbour <i>Spinelloccio</i> is not at -home, because he dineth forth to day with a deare friend of his, by -which meanes, his wife is left at home alone: give her a call out at -our Window, and desire her to come dine with us: for we two can -make no merry Musicke, except some more come to fill up the consort.</p> - -<p>His Wife being very timorous, yet diligent to doe whatsoever -he commanded, so prevailed with the Wife of <i>Spinelloccio</i>: that -she came to them quickely, and so much the rather, because her -Husband dined abroad. Shee being come up into the Chamber, -<i>Zeppa</i> gave her most kinde entertainment, taking her gently by the -hand, and winking on his Wife, that she should betake her selfe to -the kitchin, to see dinner speedily prepared, while he sat conversing -with his neighbour in the Chamber.</p> - -<p>His wife being gone, he shut the doore after her, which the new-come -Neighbour perceyving, she sayde. Our blessed Lady defend -me. <i>Zeppa</i>, What is your meaning in this? Have you caused me to -come hither to this intent? Is this the love you beare to <i>Spinelloccio</i>, -and your professed loyalty in friendshippe? <i>Zeppa</i>, seating her -downe on the Chest, wherein her Husband was inclosed, entreating -her patience, thus began. Kinde and loving Neighbor, before -you adventure too farre in anger, vouchsafe to heare what I shall -tell you.</p> - -<p>I have loved, and still doe love, <i>Spinelloccio</i> as my brother, but -yesterday (albeit he knoweth it not) I found, the honest trust I reposed -in him, deserved no other, or better recompence, but even to -be bold with my wife, in the selfesame manner as I am, and as hee -ought to do with none but you. Now, in regard of the love which -I beare him, I intend to be no otherwise revenged on him, but in the -same kinde as the offence was committed. He hath bin more then -familiar with my wife, I must borrow the selfe-same courtesie of -you, which in equity you cannot deny mee, weighing the wrong -you have sustained by my wife. Our injuries are alike, in your Husband -to me, and in my wife to you: let then their punishment and -ours be alike also, as they, so we; for in this case there can be no juster -revenge.</p> - -<p>The Woman hearing this, and perceiving the manifolde confirmations -thereof, protested (on solemne oath) by <i>Zeppa</i>; hir beliefe -grew setled, and thus she answered. My loving neighbour <i>Zeppa</i>, seeing -this kinde of revenge is (in meere justice) imposed on mee, and -ordained as a due scourge, as well to the breach of friendship and -neighbour-hood, as abuse of his true and loyall wife: I am the more -willing to consent: alwaies provided, that it be no imbarrement of -love betweene your wife and mee, albeit I have good reason to alledge, -that she began the quarrell first: and what I do is but to right -my wrong, as any other woman of spirit would do: Afterwards, -we may the more easily pardon one another. For breach of peace -(answered <i>Zeppa</i>) between my wife and you, take my honest word -for your warrant. Moreover, in requitall of this favour to mee, I -will bestowe a deare and precious Jewell on you, excelling all the -rest which you have beside.</p> - -<p>In delivering these words, he sweetly kissed and embraced her, as -she sat on the Chest wherein her husband lay: now, what they did -else beside, in recompence of the wrong received, I leave to your -imagination, as rather deserving silence, then immodest blabbing. -<i>Spinelloccio</i>, being all this while in the Chest, hearing easily all the -words which <i>Zeppa</i> had uttered, the answer of his wife, as also what -Musicke they made over his head: you may guesse in what a case -he was, his heart being ready to split with rage, and, but that hee -stood in feare of <i>Zeppa</i>, he would have railde and exclaimed on his -wife, as thus hee lay shut up in the Chest. But entering into better -consideration, that so great an injury was first begun by himselfe, & -<i>Zeppa</i> did no more, then in reason and equity he might well do (having -evermore carried himselfe like a kinde neighbour and friend towards -him, without the least offer of distaste) he faithfully resolved, -to be a firmer friend to <i>Zeppa</i> then formerly hee had bin, if it might -be embraced and accepted on the other side.</p> - -<p>Delights and pleasures, be they never so long in contenting and -continuance, yet they come to a period and conclusion at last: So -<i>Zeppa</i>, having ended his amorous combate, and over the head of his -perfidious friend, thought himselfe sufficiently revenged. But now, -in consideration of a further promise made on the bargaine; <i>Spinelloccioes</i> -wife challengeth the Jewel, then which kind of recompence, -nothing can be more welcome to women. Heereupon, <i>Zeppa</i> calling -for his owne wife, commanded her to open the Chest; which shee -did, and he merrily smiling, saide. Well wife, you have given mee a -Cake insted of bread, and you shal lose nothing for your labour. So -<i>Spinelloccio</i> comming forth of the Chest, it requireth a better witte -then mine, to tell you, which of them stood most confounded with -shame, either <i>Spinelloccio</i> seeing <i>Zeppa</i>, and knowing well enough -what he had done: or the woman beholding her husband, who easily -heard all their familiar conference, and the action thereupon so -deservedly performed.</p> - -<p>See neighbour, is not this your dearest Jewell? Having kept it awhile -in my wives custody; according to my promise, here I deliver -it you. <i>Spinelloccio</i> being glad of his deliverance out of the Chest, -albeit not a little ashamed of himselfe; without using many impertinent -words, saide. <i>Zeppa</i>, our wrongs are equally requited on each -other, and therefore I allow thy former speeches to my Wife, that -thou wast my friend, as I am the like to thee, and so I pray thee let us -still continue. For nothing else is now to bee divided betweene us, -seeing we have shared alike in our wives, which none knowing but -our selves, let it be as closely kept to our selves. <i>Zeppa</i> was wel pleased -with the motion, and so all foure dined lovingly together, without -any variance or discontentment. And thence forward, each of -the Women had two Husbands, as either Husband enjoyed two -Wives, without further contention or debate.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Maestro_Simone_an_ydle-headed_Doctor_of_Physicke_was_throwne_by" id="Maestro_Simone_an_ydle-headed_Doctor_of_Physicke_was_throwne_by"><i>Maestro</i> Simone, <i>an ydle-headed Doctor of Physicke, was throwne by</i> -Bruno <i>and</i> Buffalmaco, <i>into a common Leystall of Filth: The Physitian -fondly beleeving, that (in the night time) he should bee made -one of a new created Company, who usually went to see wonders, at</i> -Corsica; <i>and there in the Leystall they left him.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Ninth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is approved, that Titles of Honour, Learning, and Dignity, -are not alwayes bestowne on the wisest men.</i></h4> - - -<p>After that the Ladies had a while considered, on the communication -betweene the two Wives of <i>Sienna</i>, and the -falshood in friendship of their Husbands: the Queene, -who was the last to recount her Novell, without offering injurie to -<i>Dioneus</i>, began to speake thus.</p> - -<p>The reward for a precedent Wrong committed, which <i>Zeppa</i> retorted -upon <i>Spinelloccio</i>, was answerable to his desert, and no more -then equity required, in which respect, I am of opinion, that such -men ought not to be over-sharpely reproved, as do injurie to him, -who seeketh for it, and justly should have it, although Madam <i>Pampinea</i> -(not long since) avouched the contrary. Now, it evidently -appeareth, that <i>Spinelloccio</i> well deserved what was done to him, -and I purpose to speake of another, who needs would seeke after his -owne disgrace. The rather to confirme my former speeches, that -they which beguile such wilfull foolish men; are not to bee blamed, -but rather commended. And he unto whom the shame was done, -was a Physitian, which came from <i>Bologna</i> to <i>Florence</i>; and returned -thither againe like unto a Beast, notoriously baffulled and disgraced.</p> - -<p>It is a matter well knowne to us, and (almost) observed day by -day, that divers of our Citizens, when they returne from their studying -at <i>Bologna</i>: one becommeth an Advocate, another a Physitian, -and a third a Notarie, with long & large gowns, some of Scarlet, -and hoods furred with Minever, beside divers other great apparances, -succeeding effectually daily in their severall kinds. Among -whom, there returned (not long since) thence, one Master <i>Simon -da Villa</i>, more rich in possessions left him by his parents, then anie -knowledge thereto obtained: yet cloathed in Scarlet, with his Miniver -hood, and styled a Doctor of Physicke, which title hee onely -bestowed on himselfe, and tooke a goodly house for his dwelling, -in the street which wee commonly call <i>La via del Cocomero</i>. This -Master Doctor <i>Simon</i>, being thus newly come thither, among other -notable qualities in him, had one more especiall then any of the -rest, namely, to know the names and conditions of such persons, as -daily passed by his doore, and what professions they were of, whereby -any likelyhood might be gathered of needing his helpe, and being -his patients, observing them all with very vigilant care.</p> - -<p>But, among all the rest by him thus warily noted, he most observed -two Painters, of whom we have heeretofore twice discoursed, -<i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i>, who walked continually together, and were -his neere dwelling neighbours. The matter which most of al he noted -in them, was; that they lived merrily, and with much lesse care, -then any else in the Cittie beside, and verily they did so in deede. -Wherefore, he demanded of divers persons, who had good understanding -of them both, of what estate and condition they were. -And hearing by every one, that they were but poore men & Painters: -he greatly mervailed, how it could be possible for them, that -they should live so jocondly, and in such poverty. It was related to -him further beside, that they were men of a quicke and ingenious -apprehension, whereby hee politikely imagined, that theyr poore -condition could not so well maintaine them; without some courses -else, albeit not publiquely knowne unto men, yet redounding -to their great commoditie and profite. In which regard, he grew -exceeding desirous, by what meanes he might become acquainted, -and grow into familiarity with them both, or any of them, at the -least; wherein (at the length) he prevailed, and <i>Bruno</i> proved to be -the man.</p> - -<p>Now <i>Bruno</i> plainly perceiving (within a short while of this new -begun acquaintance) that the Physitian was a Logger-head, and -meerely no better then a <i>Gregorian</i> Animall: he beganne to have -much good pastime with him, by telling him strange and incredible -Tales, such as none but a Coxcombe would give credit too; yet -they delighted Doctor Dunce extraordinarily, and <i>Brunoes</i> familiarity -was so highly pleasing to him, that he was a daily guest at dinner -and supper with him, and hee was not meanly proud of enjoying -his company. One day, as they sate in familiar conference together, -he told <i>Bruno</i> that he wondred not a little at him and <i>Buffalmaco</i>, -they being both so poore people, yet lived far more jovially -then Lords, and therefore desired to understand, by what secret -meanes they compassed such mirthfull maintenance. <i>Bruno</i>, -hearing the Doctors demaund, & perceiving that it favoured more -of the foole, then any the very least taste of wisedome: smiled unto -himselfe, and determined to returne him such an answere, as might -be fitting for his folly, whereupon, thus he replied.</p> - -<p>Beleeve me Master Doctor, I would not impart to many people, -what private helpes we have for our maintenance: but yet I dare -boldly acquaint you therewith, in regard you are one of our most -intimate friends, and of such secrecie, as (I know) you will not reveale -it to any. True it is, that mine honest neighbour and my selfe, -do leade our lives in such merry manner as you see, and better then -all the world is aware of, for I cannot imagine you to bee so ignorant, -but are certainly perswaded: that if we had no better means, -then our poore manuall trade and profession; we might sit at home -with bread and water, and be nothing so lively spirited as wee are. -Yet Sir, I would not have you to conceive, that wee do eyther rob -or steale, or use any other unlawfull courses: onely we travayle to -<i>Corsica</i>, from whence we bring (without the least prejudice to anie -other) all things we stand in need of, or whatsoever wee can desire. -Thus do we maintaine our selves well and honestly, and live in this -mirthfull disposition.</p> - -<p>Master Doctor hearing this Discourse, and beleeving it constantly, -without any further instruction or intelligence: became possessed -with verie much admiration, and had the most earnest desire in -the world, to know what this Travailing to <i>Corsica</i> might meane: -entreating <i>Bruno</i> with very great instances, to tell him what it -was, and made many protestations never to disclose it to anie one. -How now Master Doctor? answered <i>Bruno</i>, What a strange motion -do you make to mee? It is too great a secret, which you desire -to know, yea, a matter of mine owne ruine, and an utter expulsion -out of this Worlde, with condemnation into the mouth of -<i>Lucifer da San Gallo</i>, if any man whatsoever should know it from -me, wherefore I pray you to urge it no more. O my deer and honest -neighbour <i>Bruno</i> (quoth the Doctor) assure thy selfe upon my soul, -that whatsoever thou revealest to me, shall be under seale from all, -but onely our selves. Fie, fie Master Doctor, answered <i>Bruno</i>, you -are too pressing and importunate. So sitting smiling to himselfe, shaking -his head, and beating his breast, as if hee were in some straunge -distraction of minde, stamping with his feete, and beating his Fiste -oftentimes on the Table, at last he started uppe, and spake in this -manner.</p> - -<p>Ah Master Doctor, the love I beare to your capricious and rarely -circumcised experience, and likewise the confidence I repose in -your scrutinous taciturnitie, are both of such mighty and prevailing -power; as I cannot conceale any thing from you, which you covet -to know. And therefore, if you wil sweare unto me by the crosse of -<i>Monteson</i>, that never (as you have already faithfully promised) you -will disclose a secret so admirable; I will relate it unto you, and not -otherwise. The Doctor sware, and sware againe, and then <i>Bruno</i> -thus began.</p> - -<p>Know then my learned and judicious Doctor, that it is not long -time since, when there lived in this Citie of ours, a man very excellent -in the Art of Nigromancie, who named himselfe <i>Michale Scoto</i>, -because he was a Scottishman borne, of many woorthy Gentlemen -(very few of them being now living) hee was much honoured -and respected. When he grew desirous to depart from hence, upon -their earnest motion and entreaty; he left here two of his Schollers -behinde him, men of absolute skill and experience: giving them -especiall charge and command, to do all possible services they could -devise, for those Gentlemen who had so highly honoured him. The -two famous Schollers, were very helpefull to those Gentlemen, in -divers of their amorous occasions, and verie many other matters -besides.</p> - -<p>Not long after, they finding the Citie, and behaviour of the people -sufficiently pleasing to them; they resolved on their continuance -heere, entering into a league of love and friendshippe with divers, -never regarding, whether they were Gentlemen, or no, or distinguishing -the poore from the rich: but only in being conforme to -their complexions, sociable and fit for friendship.</p> - -<p>They created a kinde Society, consisting of about five and twenty -men, who should meete together twice in a moneth, & in a place -reputed convenient for them: where being so assembled, every man -uttered his minde to those two Schollers, in such cases as they most -desired, to have wherewith they were all satisfied the self-same night. -It came so to passe, that <i>Buffalmaco</i> and I, grew into acquaintance -with those two worthy Schollers, and our private familiarity together -proved so prosperous, that we were admitted into the same Society, -and so have ever since continued. Now Sir, I am to tell you -matter deserving admiration, & which (in very good judgements) -would seeme to exceed all beleefe.</p> - -<p>For, at every time when we were assembled together: you are -not able to imagine, what sumptuous hangings of Tapistrie, did adorne -the Hall where we sate at meate, the Tables covered in such -Royall manner, waited on by numberlesse Noble and goodly attendants, -both Women and Men, serving readily, at each mans -command of the company. The Basins, Ewers, Pots, Flaggons, & -all the vessels else which stood before, and for the service of our diet, -being composed onely of Gold and Silver, and out of no worse did -we both eate and drinke: the viands being very rare and dainty, abounding -in plenty and variety, according to the appetite of everie -person, as nothing could be wished for, but it was instantly obtained.</p> - -<p>In good sadnesse Sir, I am not able to remember and tell you -(within the compasse of a thousand yeares) what, and how manie -severall kindes of Musicall Instruments, were continually played on -before us; what multiplicity of Waxe lights burned in all partes of -the roomes; neither the excessive store of rich Drugs, Marchpanes, -Comfites, and rare Banquetting stuffe, consumed there at one Feasting, -wherein there wanted no bounty of the best and purest wines. -Nor do I (Master Doctor) repute you so weakly witted, as to think, -that in the time of our being thus assembled there, any of us al were -cloathed in such simple and meane Garments, as ordinarily are -worne in the streets on mens bodies, or any so silly as the verie best -you have: No Sir, not any one man among us, but appeared by his -apparrell, equall to the greatest Emperour on the earth, his robe -most sumptuously imbroidered with precious stones, Pearles, and -Carbuncles, as all the world affoordeth not the like. But above all -the rest, the delights and pleasures there, are beyond my capacity to -expresse, or (indeede) any comparison: as namely, store of goodly -and beautifull women, brought thither from all parts of the world; -alwayes provided, if men bee desirous of their company: but for -your easier comprehension, I will make some briefe relation of them -to you, according as I heard them there named.</p> - -<p>There is the great Lady of <i>Barbanicchia</i>; the Queene of <i>Baschia</i>; -the Wife to the great <i>Soldane</i>, the Empresse of <i>Osbeccho</i>; the <i>Ciancianfera</i> -of <i>Norniera</i>; the <i>Bemistante</i> of <i>Berlinzona</i>; and the <i>Scalpedra</i> -of <i>Narsia</i>. But why do I breake my braine, in numbering up so -many to you? All the Queenes of the world are there, even so farre -as to the <i>Schinchimurra</i> of <i>Prester John</i>, that hath a horne in the -midst of her posteriores, albeit not visible to every eye.</p> - -<p>Now I am further to tell you, that after we have tasted a Cup of -precious Wine, fed on a few delicate Comfits, and danced a dance -or two to the rare Musicke: every one taketh a Lady by the hand, -of whom he pleaseth to make his election, and she conducteth him -to her Chamber, in very grave and gracious manner. Concerning -the Chambers there, each of them resembleth a Paradise to looke -on, they are so faire and goodly; and no lesse odorifferous in smell, -then the sweetest perfumes in your Apothecaries shoppes, or the -rare compounds of Spices, when they are beaten in an open Morter. -And as for the Beds, they are infinitely richer, then the verie -costliest belonging to the Duke of <i>Venice</i>: yet (in such) each man is -appointed to take his rest, the Musicke of rare Cymbals lasting all -night long, much better to be by you considered, then in my rude -eloquence expressed.</p> - -<p>But of all those rich and sumptuous Beds (if pride of mine owne -opinion do not deceive me) them two provided for <i>Buffalmaco</i> and -me, had hardly any equall: he having the Queene of <i>France</i> as his -Lady and Mistresse, and I, the renowned Queene of <i>England</i>, the -onely two choise beauties of the whole World, and wee appeared -so pleasing in their eyes, as they would have refused the greatest -Monarkes on the earth, rather then to bee rejected by us. Now -therefore, you may easily consider with your selfe, what great reason -we have to live more merrily, then any other men can doe: in -regard we enjoy the gracious favour of two such Royall Queenes, -receyving also from them (whensoever wee please to commaund -them) a thousand or two thousand Florines at the least, which are -both truly and duly sent us. Enjoying thus the benefit of this high -happinesse, we that are companions of this Society, do tearme it in -our vulgar Language, <i>The Pyrats voyage to Corsica</i>. Because, as -Rovers or Pyrats robbe and take away the goodes of such as they -meete withall, even so do we: only there remaineth this difference -betweene us, that they never restore what they have taken: which -we do immediately afterward, whether it be required or no. And -thus Master Doctor, as to my most endeered friend, I have now revealed -the meaning of sayling to <i>Corsica</i>, after the manner of our -private Pyracie, and how important the close retention of the voiage -is, you are best able your selfe to judge: In which regarde, remember -your Oathes and faithfull promises, or else I am undone -forever.</p> - -<p>Our worthy wise Doctor, whose best skill scarsely extended so -farre, as to cure the itch in Children; gave such sound beleefe to -the relation of <i>Bruno</i>, as any man could doe, to the most certaine -truth of life or death: having his desire immeasurably enflamed, -to bee made a member of this straunge Societie, which hee more -coveted, then any thing in the world beside, accounting it a felicity -farre beyond all other.</p> - -<p>Whereupon he answered <i>Bruno</i>, that it was no great matter of -mervaile, if he lived so merrily as he did, having such a singular supply, -to avoide all necessities whatsoever: and very hardly could he -refraine from immediate request, to be accepted into the company. -But yet he thought fit to deferre it further, untill he had made <i>Bruno</i> -more beholding to him, by friendly entertainments and other -courtesies, when he might (with better hope) be bold to move the -motion.</p> - -<p>Well may you conceive, that nothing more hammerd in the Doctors -head, then this rare voyage to <i>Corsica</i>, and <i>Bruno</i> was his daily -guest at dinner and supper, with such extraordinary apparances -of kindnesse and courtesie, as if the Physitian could not live, except -he had the company of <i>Bruno</i>. Who seeing himselfe to bee so lovingly -respected, and hating ingratitude, for favours so abundantly -heaped on him: hee painted the whole story of Lent about his -Hall, and an <i>Agnus Dei</i> fairely gilt, on the portall of his Chamber, -as also a goodly Urinall on his street doore, to the end, that such as -had neede of his counsell, might know where so judicious a Doctour -dwelt. In a Gallery likewise by his Garden, he painted the furious -Battaile betweene the Rats and Cats, which did (not a little) delight -Master Doctor.</p> - -<p>Moreover, at such times as Bruno had not supt with our Physitian, -he would bee sure to tell him on the morrow, that the night passed, -he had bin with the Company which he did wot of. And there -(quoth he) the Queene of <i>England</i> having somewhat offended mee, -I commanded, that the <i>Gomedra</i>, belonging to the <i>Grand Cham</i> of -<i>Tartaria</i>, should be brought me, and instantly shee was. What -may be the meaning of <i>Gomedra</i> be? saide the Doctor, I understand -not those difficult names. I beleeve you Sir, answered <i>Bruno</i>, nor -do I need to marvaile thereat: and yet I have heard <i>Porcograsso</i> -speake, and also <i>Vannacenna</i>, and both unexperienced in our Language. -You would say (replyed the Doctour) <i>Hippocrates</i> and <i>Avicenna</i>, -who were two admirable Physitians. It may be so (said <i>Bruno</i>) -& as hardly do I understand your names, as you mine: but <i>Gomedra</i>, -in the <i>Grand Chams</i> language, signifies Empresse in ours. But -had you once seene her Sir, she would make you forget all Physicall -observations, your arguments, receits and medicines, onely to be in -her heavenly presence, which words he used (perceiving his forward -longing) to enflame him the more. Not long after, as the doctor was -holding the candle to <i>Bruno</i>, at the perfecting the bloody Battayle -of the Cattes and Rattes, because he could never bee wearied in his -Companie, and therefore was the more willing, to undergoe the -office of the Candle-holder: he resolved to acquaint him with his -minde, and being all alone by themselves, thus he began.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i>, as heaven knoweth, there is not this day any creature living, -for whom I would gladly do more, then for thee, and the very -least word of thy mouth, hath power to commaund mee to goe -bare-footed, even from hence so farre as to <i>Peretola</i>, and account -my labour well employed for thy sake: wherefore, never wonder -at my continuall kindnesse towards thee, using thee as my Domesticke -companion, and embracing thee as my bosome friend, and -therefore I am the bolder in mooving one request unto thee. As -thou well knowest, it is no long while since, when thou diddest acquaint -me with the behaviour of the <i>Corsicane</i> Roving Company, -to be one in so rare and excellent a Society, such hath bin my earnest -longing ever since, as day nor night have I enjoyed anie rest, -but should thinke my felicity beyond all compare, if I could be entertained -in fellowship among you.</p> - -<p>Nor is this desire of mine but upon great occasion, as thou thy -selfe shalt perceive, if I prove accepted into your Societie, and let -me then be made a mocking stocke for ever, if I cause not to come -thither, one of the most delicate young women, that ever anie eye -beheld, and which I my selfe saw (not above a yeare since) at <i>Cacavinciglia</i>, -on whom I bestowed my intirest affection, and (by the -best Urinall that ever I gazed on) would have given her tenne faire -<i>Bologninaes</i>, to yeeld the matter I moved to her, which yet I could -not (by any meanes) compasse. Therefore, with all the flowing faculties -of my soule I entreate thee, and all the very uttermost of my -all indeede; to instruct me in those wayes and meanes, whereby I -may hope to be a member of you. Which if thou dooest accomplish -for me, and I may finde it effectually performed: I shall not -onely be thy true and loyall friend for ever, but will honour thee -beside, beyond all men living.</p> - -<p>I know thee to bee a man of judgement, deepely informed in all -well-grounded experience: thou seest what a propper, portly, and -comely man I am, how fitly my legges are answerable to my body, -my lookes amiable, lovely, and of Rosie colour; beside I am a Doctor -of Physicke, of which profession (being only most expedient) -I thinke you have not one in your Society. I have many commendable -qualities in me, as, playing on divers instruments, exquisite in -singing, and composing rare ditties, whereof I will instantly sing -thee one. And so he began to sing.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i> was swolne so bigge with desire of laughter, that hee had -scarsely any power to refraine from it: neverthelesse, he made the -best meanes he could devise: and the Song being ended, the Physition -saide. How now <i>Bruno</i>? What is thine Opinion of my singing? -Beleeve me Sir, replyed <i>Bruno</i>, the Vialles of <i>Sagginali</i>, will -loose their very best tunes, in contending against you, so mirilifficially -are the sweet accents of your voice heard. I tell thee truly <i>Bruno</i> -(answered Master Doctor) thou couldst not by any possibility have -beleeved it, if thou hadst not heard it. In good sadness Sir (said <i>Bruno</i>) -you speake most truly. I could (quoth the Doctor) sing thee infinite -more beside, but at this time I must forbeare them. Let mee -then further informe thee <i>Bruno</i>, that beside the compleat perfections -thou seest in me, my father was a Gentleman, although he dwelt -in a poore Country village, and by my mothers side, I am derived -from them of <i>Vallecchio</i>. Moreover, as I have formerly shewn thee, -I have a goodly Library of Bookes, yea, and so faire and costly garments, -as few Physitians in <i>Florence</i> have the like. I protest to thee -upon my faith, I have one gowne, which cost me (in readie money) -almost an hundred poundes in <i>Bagattinoes</i>, and it is not yet above -ten yeares old. Wherefore let me prevaile with thee, good <i>Bruno</i>, -to worke so with the rest of thy friends, that I may bee one of your -singular Society; and, by the honest trust thou reposest in mee, bee -boldly sick whensoever thou wilt, my paines and Physicke shall be -freely thine, without the payment of one single peny. <i>Bruno</i> hearing -his importunate words, and knowing him (as all men else did -beside) to be a man of more words then wit, saide. Master Doctor, -snuffe the candle I pray you, and lend me a little more light with it -hitherward, until I have finished the tailes of these Rats, and then I -wil answer you.</p> - -<p>When the Rats tailes were fully finished, <i>Bruno</i> declaring by outward -behaviour, that he greatly distasted the matter mooved, thus -answered. Worthy Master Doctor, the courtesies you have already -extended towards me, and the bountifull favours promised beside, -I know to be exceeding great, and farre beyond the compasse -of any merit in me. But concerning your request, albeit in respect -of your admired braine and Wisedome, it is of little or no moment -at all; yet it appeareth over-mighty to mee, and there is not -any man now living in the world, that hath the like Authoritie over -me, and can more commaund me, then you (with one poore -syllable) easily may doe: as well in regarde of my Love and Dutie, -as also your singular and sententious speeches, able not onelie -to make me breake a sound and setled resolution, but (almost) to -move Mountaines out of their places, and the more I am in your -Learned company, so much the faster am I lincked unto you, in -immoveable affection, so farre am I in love with your admirable -qualities. And had I no other reason, to affect you in such endeared -manner, as I doe; yet because you are enamoured of -so rare a beauty, as you have already related to me, it onely were a -motive sufficient to compell me. But indeed I must needs tel you, -that I have not so much power in this case, as you (perhaps) do imagine, -which barreth me from such forward readines, as otherwise -needed not to be urged. Neverthelesse, having so solemnly ingaged -your faith to me, and no way misdoubting your faithfull secrecy, I -shall instruct you in some meanes to be observed; and it appeareth -plainly to me, that being furnished with such plenty of Bookes, as -you are, and other rich endowments, as you have before rehearsed, -you cannot but attaine to the full period of your longing desire.</p> - -<p>Speake boldly thy minde <i>Bruno</i>, answered the Doctour: for, I -perceive thou hast no perfect knowledge of me as yet, neither what -an especiall gift I have of secrecy. <i>Messer Gasparino da Salicete</i>, when -he was Judge and Potestat over the people of <i>Forlini</i>, made choise -of mee (among infinite of his dearest friends) to acquaint with a secret -of no meane moment. And such a faithfull Secretary he found -me, as I was the onely man, that knew his mariage with <i>Bergamino</i>; -why then should any distrust be made of me? If it be so as you say -Sir (answered <i>Bruno</i>) your credit is the sounder, and I dare the better -adventure on your fidelity: the meanes then which you are to -worke by, I shall now direct you in.</p> - -<p>We have alwayes in this noble Society of ours, a Captaine, and -two Counsellors, which are changed at every six months end. And -now at Christmas next (so neere drawing on) <i>Buffalmaco</i> shal be elected -Captaine, and my selfe one of the Counsellers, for so it is already -agreed on, and orderly set downe. Now, he that is Captain, -may doe much more then any other can, and appoint matters as -himselfe pleaseth. Wherefore I thinke it very expedient, that so -soone as possibly you may, you procure acquaintance with <i>Buffalmaco</i>, -entreating him with all respective courtesie. Hee is a man, -who when he perceyveth you to be so wonderfully Wise and discreete, -he will be immediately in love with you: so, when you have -your best senses about you, and your richest wearing Garments -on (alwayes remembred, that your acquaintance first be fully confirmed) -then never feare to urge your request, for he can have no -power at all to denie you; because I have already spoken of you -to him, and find him to stand affected unto you verie intirely: thus -when you have begunne the businesse, leave me to deale with him -in the rest.</p> - -<p>Now trust me kinde friend <i>Bruno</i>, replyed the Physitian, I like -your advice exceeding well. For, if hee be a man, that taketh delight -to converse with men of skill and judgement, and you have -made the way for his knowing me: he wil then thirst, and long to -follow after mee, to understand the incredible eloquence flowing -from me, and the rare composition of my Musicall Ditties, out of -which he may learne no meane wisedome. When the matter was -thus agreed on betweene them, <i>Bruno</i> departed thence, & acquainted -<i>Buffalmaco</i> with everie circumstance: which made him thinke -everie day a yeare, untill he might joyne in the fooling of Mayster -Doctour, according to his owne fancie. Who beeing also as -desirous on the other side, to make one in the <i>Corsicane</i> Voyage; -could take no manner of rest either by day or night, till he was linked -in friendship with <i>Buffalmaco</i>, which very quickely after hee -compassed.</p> - -<p>For now there wanted no costly dinners and suppers, with al delicates -could be devised, for the entertainement of <i>Buffalmaco</i> and -<i>Bruno</i>; who, like Guests very easie to be invited, where rich wines -and good cheare are never wanting, needed little sending for, because -his house was as familiar to them, as their owne. In the -end, when the Physitian espyed an opportunitie apt for the purpose, -he made the same request to <i>Buffalmaco</i>, as formerly hee had -done to <i>Bruno</i>. Whereat <i>Buffalmaco</i>, sodainly starting, and looking -frowningly on <i>Bruno</i>, as if he were extraordinarily incensed against -him: clapping his hand furiously on the Table, he sayde. I -sweare by the great God of <i>Pasignano</i>, that I can hardly refrayne -from giving thee such a blow on the face, as should make thy Nose -to fall at thy heeles: vile Traitor as thou art: for none beside thy -selfe, could discover so rare and excellent a secret unto this famous -Physitian. The Doctour, with verie plausible and pleasing -tearmes, excused the matter verie artificially; protesting, that another -had revealed it unto him: and after many wise circumstantiall -Allegations, at length hee prevailed so farre, that <i>Buffalmaco</i> -was pacified; who afterwardes turning in kinde manner, thus hee -beganne.</p> - -<p>Master Doctour, you have lived both at <i>Bologna</i>, and heere in -these partes with us, having (no doubt) sufficiently understoode, -what it is to carry a close mouth, I meane the true Charracter of taciturnitie. -Questionlesse, you never learned the A. B. C. as now -foolish Ideots do, blabbing their lessons all about the towne, which -is much better apprehended by rumination; and surely (if I be not -much deceyved) your Nativity happened on a Sonday morning, -Sol being at that time, Lord of the ascendent, joyned with <i>Mercurie</i> -in a fierie Triplicitie. By such conference as I have had with -<i>Bruno</i>, I conceyved (as he himselfe also did) that you were verie -singular in Physicke onely: but it seemeth, your Studies reached -a higher straine, for you have learned, and know verie skilfullie, -how to steale mens hearts from them, yea, to bereave them of -their verie soules, which I perceyve that you can farre better doe, -then any man else living to my knowledge, only by your wise, witty, -judicious, and more then meere <i>Mercurian</i> eloquence, such as I -never heard before.</p> - -<p>The Physitian interrupting him bashfully, turned himselfe unto -<i>Bruno</i>, saying. Did not I tell thee this before? Observe what a notable -thing it is, to speake well, and to frequent the company of the -Wise. A thousand other, meerely blockes and dullardes by Nature, -could never so soone comprehend all the particularities of my -knowledge, as this honest and apprehensive man hath done. Thou -didst not search into it halfe so soone, nor (indeed) did I expresse a -quarter of my ingenuity to thee, as (since his comming) hath prodigally -flowne from me.</p> - -<p>Well do I remember thy words, that <i>Buffalmaco</i> delighted to be -among men of Wisedome: and have I not now fitted him unto his -owne desire? How thinkest thou <i>Bruno</i>? The best (quoth <i>Bruno</i>) -that any man living in the World could do. Ah worthy <i>Buffalmaco</i>, -answered the Physitian: What wouldst thou then have sayde, if -thou hadst seene me at <i>Bologna</i>, where there was neyther great nor -small, Doctor nor Scholler, but thought themselves happy by being -in my company? If I ought any debts, I discharged them with -my very wittie words; and whensoever I spake, I could set them al -on a hearty laughter, so much pleasure they tooke in hearing mee. -And when I departed thence, no men in the world could bee more -sorrowfull then they, as desiring nothing more then my remayning -among them, which they expressed so apparantly, that they made -humble suite and intercession to me, to bee cheefe Reader of the -Physicke-Lecture, to all the Schollers studying our profession. But -I could not be so perswaded, because my minde was wholly addicted -hither, to enjoy those Goods, Landes, and Inheritances, belonging -lineally to them of our house, and accordingly I did performe -it.</p> - -<p>How now <i>Buffalmaco</i> (quoth <i>Bruno</i>) what is thine opinion now? -Thou wouldst not beleeve me when I told thee, that there is not a -Doctor in all these parts, more skilfull in distinguishing the Urine -of an Asse, from any other, then this most expert and singular man: -and I dare boldly maintaine it, that his fellow is not to bee found, -from hence to the very gates of <i>Paris</i>. Go then, and doe the uttermost -endeavour that thou canst, to grant the request which he hath -made.</p> - -<p>Beleeve me <i>Buffalmaco</i>, saide the Doctor, <i>Bruno</i> hath spoken nothing -but truth, for I am scarsely knowne heere in this City, where -(for the most part) they are all grosse-witted people, rather then any -jot judicious; but I would thou hadst seene me among the Doctors, -in manner as I was wont to be. Introth Sire, replyed <i>Buffalmaco</i>, -you are my much more Learned then ever I imagined, in which -respect, speaking unto you as it becommeth me, to a man so excellent -in wit and understanding: I dare assure you that (without any -faile) I wil procure you to be one of our Company.</p> - -<p>After this promise thus made, the good cheare, favours and kindnesses -done by the Doctor to them, was beyond the compasse of all -relation: whereof they made no more then a meere mockery, flouting -him to his face, and yet his Wisedome could not discerne it. -Moreover, they promised, that they would give him to Wife, the -faire Countesse <i>di Civillari</i>, who was the onely goodliest creature -to be found in the whole <i>Culattario</i> of humane generation. The -Doctor demanded, what Countesse that was? Oh Sir, answered -<i>Buffalmaco</i>, she is a great Lady, one worthy to have issue by; and -few houses are there in the world, where she hath not some jurisdiction -and command: so that not meane people onely, but even the -greatest Lords, at the sound of her Trumpets, do very gladlie pay -her tribute. And I dare boldly affirme, that whensoever shee walketh -to any place, shee yeeldeth a hot and sensible favour, albeit she -keepeth most of all close. Yet once every night, shee duely observeth -it (as a Custome) to passe from her owne house, to bathe her -feete in the River of <i>Arno</i>, and take a little of the sweeter Ayre: -albeit her continuall residencie, is within the Kingdome of <i>Laterino</i>.</p> - -<p>She seldome walketh abroad, but goeth with her attending Officers -about her, who (for more demonstration of her greatnesse) do -carry the Rod and plummet of Lead. Store of her Lords and Barons -are every where to be seene; as the <i>Tamagaino della porta, Don -Meta di Sirropa; Manico di Scopa; Signior Squacchera,</i> and others -beside, who are (as I suppose) oftentimes your daily visitants, when -of necessity they must be remembred. All our care and courtesie -shall extend so farre (if we doe not faile in our enterprize) to leave -you in the armes of so Majestick a Ladie, quite forgetting hir of <i>Cacavinciglia</i>.</p> - -<p>The Physitian, who was borne and brought up at <i>Bologna</i>, and -therefore understoode not these <i>Florentine</i> tearmes: became fully -contented to enjoy the Ladie; and, within some few dayes following, -the Painters brought him tydings, that they had prepared the -way for his entertainment into the Societie of Rovers. The day -being come, when the supposed assembly was to be made the night -following: the Physitian invited them both to dinner; when he demanding, -what provision he shold make for his entrance into their -company, <i>Buffalmaco</i> returned him this answer, whereto he gave -very heedfull attention.</p> - -<p>Master Doctor, you must be first of all, strongly armed with resolution -and confidence: for if you be not, you may not only receyve -hindrance, but also do us great harme beside: and now you -shall heare, in what manner, and how you are to be bold and constant. -You must procure the meanes, this instant night, when all -the people are in their soundest sleepe, to stand upon one of those -high exalted Tombs or Monuments, which are in the Churchyard -of <i>Santa Maria Novella</i>, with the very fairest gowne you have about -you, because you may appeare in the more honourable condition, -before the assembly seated together, and likewise to make good -our speeches already delivered of you, concerning your qualitie & -profession: that the Countesse, perceyving you to bee a woorthie -Gentlemen, may have you first honoured with the Bathe, and afterward -Knighted at her owne cost and charge. But you must continue -stil upon the Tombe (dreadlesse of nightly apparitions & visions) -untill such time as we send for you.</p> - -<p>And for your better information in every particulare; a Beast, -blacke and horned, but of no great stature, will come to fetch you: -perhaps he will use some gastly noises, straunge leapes, and loftie -trickes, onely to terrifie and affright you: but when he perceiveth -that he cannot daunt you, hee will gently come neere you, which -when he hath done, you may descend from off the Tombe; and, -without naming or thinking on God, or any of his Saintes, mount -boldly on his backe, for he will stand ready to receive you. Being -so seated, crosse your armes over your brest, without presuming to -touch or handle the Beast, for he will carry you thence softly, and -so bring you along to the company. But if in all this time of your -travaile, you call on heaven, any Saint, or bee possessed with the -least thought of feare: I must plainely tell you, that either hee will -cast you dangerously, or throw you into some noysome place. And -therefore, if you know your selfe, not to be of a constant courage, -and sprightly bold, to undertake such an adventure as this: never -presume any further, because you may doe us a great deale of injurie, -without any gaine or benefite to your selfe, but rather such -wrong, as we would be very sorry should happen unto so deere a -Friend.</p> - -<p>Alas honest <i>Buffalmaco</i>, answered the Physitian, thou art not halfe -acquainted with me as yet: because I walke with gloves upon my -hands, and in a long Gowne, thou perhappes doest imagine mee a -faint-hearted fellow. If thou didst know, what I have heeretofore -done at <i>Bologna</i> in the night time, when I and my Consorts went -to visite pretty wenches, thou wouldst wonder at my couragious -attempts. As I am a Gentleman, one night, we met with a young -<i>Bona Roba</i>, a paltry greene-sicknesse baggage, scarsely above a Cubite -in height, & because she refused to go with us willingly, I gave -her a kicke on the bum, and spurnde her more then a Crosse-bowe -shoote in distance from me, and made her walke with us whether -she would, or no. Another time I remember, when having no other -company but my boy, I went thorow the Churchyard of the -Fryars Minors, after the sounding of <i>Ave Maria</i>: a woman hadde -beene buried there the very same day, and yet I was not a jotte affraid.</p> - -<p>Wherefore, never be distrustfull of mee, but resolvedly builde -upon my courage. And in regard of my more honourable entertainment, -I will then weare my Scarlet Gowne and Hood, wherein -I receyved my graduation; and then do both of you observe, what -a rejoycing will be among the whole company, at the entertaining -of such as a man as I am, enough to create me Captaine immediately. -You shall perceive also how the case will go, after I have beene -there but a while, in regard that the Countesse (having as yet never -seene me) is so deepely enamored of mee: she cannot choose but -bestow the Bathe and Knight-hood on me, which shee shall have -the more honour of, in regard I am well able to maintaine it, therefore -referre all the rest to mee, and never misdoubt your injurie or -mine.</p> - -<p>Spoken like a Gallant, replyed <i>Buffalmaco</i>, and I feare not now, -but we shall winne credite by your company. But be carefull I pray -you, that you make not a mockery of us, and come not at all, or -fayle to be there, when the Beast shall be sent for you; I speake it -the rather, because it is cold weather, and you Gentlemen Physitians -can hardly endure it. You are carefull of mee (quoth the Doctor) -and I thanke you for it, but I applaud my faire Starres, I am -none of your nice or easie-frozen fellowes, because cold weather is -very familiar to me. I dare assure you, when I arise in the night time -for that naturall office whereto all men are subject, I weare no warmer -defence, then my thin wastcoat over my shirt, and finde it sufficient -for the coldest weather at any time.</p> - -<p>When <i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i> had taken their leave, the Physitian, -so soone as night drew neere, used many apt excuses to his wife, -stealing forth his Scarlet Gowne and Hood unseene of any, wherewith -being clothed: at the time appointed, he got upon one of the -Marble Tombes, staying there (quaking with cold) awaiting when -the Beast should come. <i>Buffalmaco</i>, being a lusty tall man of person, -had got an ugly masking suite, such as are made use of in Tragedies -and Playes, the out-side being of black shagged haire, wherewith -being cloathed, he seemed like a strange deformed Beare, and -a Divels vizard over his face, with two gastly horrible hornes, and -thus disguised, <i>Bruno</i> following him, they went to behold the issue -of the businesse, so farre as the new Market place, closely adjoining -to <i>Santa Maria Novella</i>.</p> - -<p>Having espyed Master Doctor uppon the Tombe, <i>Buffalmaco</i> in -his misshapen habite, began to bound, leape, and carriere, snuffling -and blowing in mad and raging manner: which when the Physitian -saw, his haire stood on end, he quaked and trembled, as being -more fearfull then a Woman, wishing himselfe at home againe in -his house, rather then to behold a sight so dreadfull. But because he -was come forth, and had such an earnest desire, to see the wonders -related to him; he made himselfe so coragious as possibly he could, -and bare all out in formall manner. After that <i>Buffalmaco</i> had (an -indifferent while) plaide his horse-trickes, ramping and stamping -somewhat strangely: seeming as become of much milder temper, -he went neere to the Tomb whereon the Physitian stood, and there -appeared to stay contentedly.</p> - -<p>Master Doctor, trembling and quaking still extreamely, was so -farre dismayed, as he knew not what was best to be done, either to -mount on the beasts backe, or not to mount at all. In the end, thinking -no harme could happen to him, if he were once mounted, with -the second feare, hee expelled the former, and descending downe -softly from the Tombs, mounted on the beast, saying out alowde: -God, Saint Dominicke, and my good Angell helpe to defend mee. -Seating himselfe so well as he could, but trembling still exceedingly; -he crossed his armes over his stomacke, according to the Lesson -given him.</p> - -<p>Then did <i>Buffalmaco</i> shape his course in milde manner, toward -<i>Santa Maria della Scala</i>, and groping to finde his way in the darke, -went on so farre as the Sisters of <i>Ripole</i>, commonly called the <i>Virgin -Sanctuary</i>. Not farre off from thence, were divers trenches & -ditches, wherein such men as are imployed in necessary night-services, -used to empty the Countesse <i>di Civillari</i>, and afterward imployed -it for manuring Husbandmens grounds. <i>Buffalmaco</i>, being -come neere one of them, he stayed to breath himselfe awhile, and -then catching fast hold on one of the Doctours feete, raysed him -somewhat higher on his back, for the easier discharging of his burthen, -and so pitched him (with his head forwardes) into the Lay-stall.</p> - -<p>Then began he to make a dreadfull kinde of noise, stamping and -trampling with his feete, passing backe againe to <i>Santa Maria della -Scala</i>, and to <i>Prato d'Ognissanti</i>, where hee met with <i>Bruno</i>, who -was constrained to forsake him, because he could not refraine from -lowde Laughter, then both together went backe once more, to see -how the Physitian would behave himselfe, being so sweetely embrued.</p> - -<p>Master Doctor, seeing himselfe to bee in such an abhominable -stinking place, laboured with all his utmost endevour, to get himself -released thence: but the more he contended and strove for getting -forth, he plunged himselfe the further in, being most pitifully myred -from head to foot, sighing and sorrowing extraordinarily, because -much of the foule water entred in at his mouth. In the end, -being forced to leave his hood behinde him, scrambling both with -his hands and feet, he got landing out of his stinking Labyrinth, & -having no other means, home he returned to his own house, where -knocking at the doore, he was at length admitted entrance. The -doore being scarse made fast againe after his letting in, <i>Buffalmaco</i> -and <i>Bruno</i> were there arrived, listning how M. Doctor should bee -welcomd home by his angry wife: who scolding and railing at him -with wonderfull impatience, gave him most hard and bitter speeches, -terming him the vilest man living.</p> - -<p>Where have you bin Sir? quoth she. Are you become a night-walker -after other Women? And could no worse garments serve -your turne, but your Doctors gown of Scarlet? Am I to suffer this -behaviour? Or am not I sufficient to content you, but you must be -longing after change? I would thou hadst bin stifled in that foule -filth, where thy fouler life did justly cast thee. Behold goodly Master -Doctor of the Leystall, who being maried to an honest woman -must yet go abroad in the night time, insatiatly lusting after whores -and harlots. With these and the like intemperate speeches, she ceased -not to afflict and torment him, till the night was almost spent, -and the Doctor brought into a sweeter savour.</p> - -<p>The next morning, <i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i>, having colourd their -bodyes with a strange kinde of painting, resembling blisters, swellings, -and bruises, as if they had bin extreamly beaten; came to the -Physitians house, finding him to be newly up, al the house yet smelling -of his foule savour (although it had bin very well perfumed) -and being admitted to him in the Garden, hee welcommed them -with the mornings salutations. But <i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i> (being otherwise -provided for him) delivering stearne and angry lookes, -stamping and chafing, <i>Bruno</i> thus replyed.</p> - -<p>Never speake so faire and flattering to us, for we are moved beyond -all compasse of patience. All misfortunes in the worlde fall -upon you, and an evill death may you dye, like the most false and -perfidious Traitor living on the earth. We must beate our braines, -and move all our most endeared friends, onely for your honour and -advancement: while wee were well neere starved to death in the -cold like Dogs, and, by your breach of promise, have bin this night -so extreamly beaten, as if (like Asses) we should have beene driven -to <i>Rome</i>.</p> - -<p>But that which is most greevous of all, is danger of excluding -out of the Society, where wee tooke good order for your admittance, -and for your most honourable entertainment. If you wil not -credit us, behold our bodies, and let your owne eyes be witnesses, -in what cruell manner we have bin beaten. So taking him aside under -the Gallery, where they might not be discovered by over-much -light, they opened their bosomes, shewed him their painted bodies, -and sodainly closed them up againe.</p> - -<p>The Physitian laboured to excuse himselfe, declaring his misfortunes -at large, and into what a filthy place he was throwne. It maketh -no matter (answered <i>Buffalmaco</i>) I would you had bin throwen -from off the Bridge into <i>Arno</i>, where you might have beene -recommended to the Divell, and all his Saints. Did not I tell you -so much before. In good sadnesse (quoth the Doctor) I neyther -commended my selfe to God, nor any of his Saints. How? sayde -<i>Buffalmaco</i>, I am sure you will maintaine an untrueth, you used a -kinde of recommendation: for our messenger told us, that you talked -of God, S. <i>Dominicke</i>, and your good Angell, whom you desired -to assist you, being so affrighted with feare, that you trembled -like a leafe upon a tree, not knowing indeede where you were. Thus -have you unfaithfully dealt with us, as never any man shall doe the -like againe, in seeking honour, and losing it through your own negligence.</p> - -<p>Master Doctor humbly entreated pardon, and that they would -not revile him any more, labouring to appease them by the best -words he could use, as fearing least they should publish this great -disgrace of him. And whereas (before) he gave them gracious welcomes; -now he redoubled them with farre greater courtesies, feasting -them daily at his own table, and evermore delighting in their -company. Thus (as you have heard) two poore Painters of <i>Florence</i>, -taught Master Doctor better Wit, then all the Learned at -<i>Bologna</i>.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="A_Cicilian_Courtezane_named_Madame_Biancafiore_by_her_craftie" id="A_Cicilian_Courtezane_named_Madame_Biancafiore_by_her_craftie"><i>A Cicilian Courtezane, named Madame</i> Biancafiore, <i>by her craftie -wit and policie, deceived a young Merchant, called</i> Salabetto, <i>of all -the money he had taken for his Wares at</i> Palermo. <i>Afterward, he -making shew of comming hither againe, with farre richer Merchandises -then hee brought before: made the meanes to borrow a -great summe of Money of her, leaving her so base a pawne, as well -requited her for her former cozenage.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Tenth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Whereby appeareth, that such as meet with cunning Harlots, and suffer -themselves to be deceived by them: must sharpen their Wits, to -make them requitall in the selfesame kinde.</i></h4> - - -<p>Needlesse it were to question, whether the Novell related -by the Queene, in divers passages thereof, mooved the -Ladies to hearty laughter, and likewise to compassionate -sighes and teares; as pittying Madame <i>Helena</i> in her hard misfortune, -and yet applauding the Scholler for his just revenge. But -the discourse being ended, <i>Dioneus</i>, who knew it was his Office to -be the last speaker every day, after silence was commanded, he began -in this manner.</p> - -<p>Worthy Ladies, it is a matter very manifest, that deceits do appeare -so much the more pleasing, when (by the selfe-same meanes) -the subtle deceyver is artificially deceived. In which respect, though -you all have reported very singular deceits: yet I meane to tel you -one, that may prove as pleasing to you, as any of your owne. And -so much the rather, because the woman deceived, was a great and -cunning Mistris in beguiling others; equalling (if not excelling) any -of your former beguilers.</p> - -<p>It hath bene observed heretofore, and (happily) at this very day -it is as frequent, that in all Cities and Townes upon the Sea-coasts, -having Ports for the benefit and venting Merchandises; Merchants -use to bring their wealthy laden Vessels thither. And when they -unlade any Ship of great fraught, there are prepared Store-houses, -which in many places are called <i>Magazines</i> or <i>Doganaes</i>, at the -charge of the Communalty, or Lord of the Towne or City, for the -use whereof, they receive yearly gain and benefit. Into those warehouses, -they deliver (under writing, and to the owners of them in especiall -charge) all their goods and merchandises, of what price or -valew soever they are.</p> - -<p>Such as be the Owners of these Magazines, when the Wares are -thus stored uppe in them, doe safely locke them up there with their -keyes, having first registred downe truly all the goods, in the Register -belonging to the Custome-house, that the Merchant may have -a just account rendred him, and the rights payed to the Custome-house, -according to the Register, and as they are either in part, or -in all made sale of.</p> - -<p>Brokers are continually there attending, being informed in the -quality of the Merchandises stored, and likewise to what Merchants -they appertaine: by meanes of these men, and according as the -goods come to their hands, they devise to have them exchaunged, -trucked, vented, and such other kinds of dispatches, answerable to -the mens minds, and worth of the Commodities. As in many other -Kingdomes and Countries, so was this custome observed at -<i>Palermo</i> in <i>Sicily</i>, where likewise then were, and (no doubt) now a-dayes -are, store of Women, faire and comely of person, but yet -vowed enemies to honesty.</p> - -<p>Neverthelesse, by such as know them not, they are held and reputed -to be blamelesse Women, and by yeilding their bodyes unto -generall use, are the occasion of infinite misfortunes to men. For -so soone as they espy a Merchant-stranger there arrived, they win -information from the Booke belonging to the Magazin, what wares -are therein stored, of what valew they bee, and who is the Owner -of them. Afterwards, by amorous actions, and affable speeches, -they allure young Merchants to take knowledge of them, to bee familiar -in their company, till from some they get most part of their -wealth, from others all. Nay, divers have gone so farre, as to make -Port-sale of Ship, Goods, and Person, so cunningly they have bene -shaven by these Barbers, and yet without any Razor.</p> - -<p>It came to passe, and no long time since, that a young <i>Florentine</i> -of ours, named <i>Niccolo da Cignano</i>, but more usually called <i>Salabetto</i>, -imployed as Factor for his Maister, arrived at <i>Palermo</i>; his -Ship stored with many Woollen Cloathes, a remainder of such as -had bin sold at the Mart of <i>Salerno</i>, amounting in valew to above -five hundred Florines of Gold. When he had given in his packet -to the Custome-house, and made them up safe in his Ware-house; -without making shew of desiring any speedy dispatch, he delighted -to view all parts of the City, as mens minds are continuallie addicted -to Novelties. He being a very faire and affable young man, easie -to kindle affection in a very modest eie: it fortuned, that a Courtezane, -one of our before remembred shavers, who termed hir selfe -Madame <i>Biancafiore</i>, having heard somewhat concerning his affairs, -beganne to dart amorous glances at him. Which the indiscreete -youth perceyving, and thinking her to be some great Lady: began -also to grow halfe perswaded, that his comely person was pleasing -to her, and therefore he would carrie this good fortune of his somewhat -cautelously.</p> - -<p>Without imparting his mind unto any one, he would daily passe -too and fro before her doore; which she observing, and having indifferently -wounded him with her wanton piercing lookes: she began -to use the first tricke of her Trade, by pretending her enflamed -affection towards him, which made her pine and consume away in -care, except he might be moved to pitty her. Whereupon, she sent -one of her <i>Pandoraes</i> unto him, perfectly instructed in the Art of a -<i>Maquerella</i>, who (after many cunning counterfetted sighes, and -teares, which she had alwayes ready at command) told him; that -his comely person and compleate perfections, had so wounded the -very soule of her Mistresse, as she could enjoy no rest in any place, -either by day or night. In regard whereof, she desired (above all -things else) to meete with him privately in a Bathe: with which -Wordes, she straightway tooke a Ring forth of her pursse, and in -most humble manner, delivered it unto him, as a token from her -Mistresse.</p> - -<p><i>Salabetto</i> having heard this Message, was the onely joyfull man -that could be: and having receyved the Ring, looking on it advisedly; -first kissed it, and then put it upon his finger. Then in answer to -the Messenger, he sayd: That if her Mistresse <i>Biancafiore</i> affected -him, she sustained no losse thereby, in regard he loved her as fervently, -and was ready to be commanded by her, at any time whensoever -she pleased.</p> - -<p>She having delivered this message to her Mistresse, was presently -returned backe againe to him, to let him understand, in which of -the Bathes she meant to meet him, on the next morrow in the evening. -This being counsell for himselfe onely to keepe, he imparted -it not to any friend whatsoever; but when the houre for their meeting -was come, he went unto the place where he was appointed, a -Bathe (belike) best agreeing with such businesse.</p> - -<p>Not long had he taried there, but two Women slaves came laden -to him, the one bearing a Mattresse of fine Fustian on hir head, -and the other a great Basket filled with many things. Having spred -the Mattresse in a faire Chamber on a Couch-bed, they covered it -with delicate white Linnen sheets, all about embroidred with faire -Fringes of gold, then laid they on costly quilts of rich Silkes, artificially -wrought with gold and silver knots, having pearles and precious -stones interwoven among them, and two such rich pillowes, -as sildome before had the like bin seene. <i>Salabetto</i> putting off his -garments, entred the Bath prepared for him, where the two Slaves -washed his body very neatly. Soone after came <i>Biancafiore</i> hirselfe, -attended on by two other women slaves, and seeing <i>Salabetto</i> in the -Bathe; making him a lowly reverence, breathing forth infinite dissembled -sighes, and teares trickling downe her cheekes, kissing and -embracing him, thus she spake.</p> - -<p>I know not what man else in the worlde, beside thy selfe, could -have the power to bring me hither: the fire flew from thy faire eies -(O thou incompareable lovely <i>Tuscane</i>) that melted my soule, and -makes me onely live at thy command. Then hurling off her light -wearing garment (because she came prepared for the purpose) shee -stept into the bathe to him, and, not permitting the Slaves a-while -to come neere, none but her selfe must now lave his body, with -Muske compounded Sope and Gilly-floures. Afterward, the slaves -washed both him and her, bringing two goodly sheetes, softe and -white, yeelding such a delicate smell of Roses, even as if they had -bene made of Rose-leaves. In the one, they folded <i>Salabetto</i>, and -her in the other, and so conveyed them on their shoulders unto the -prepared Bed-Couch, where because they should not sweate any -longer, they tooke the sheets from about them, and laid them gently -in the bed.</p> - -<p>Then they opened the Basket, wherein were divers goodly Silver -bottles, some filled with Rosewaters, others with flowers of Orenges, -and Waters distilled of Gelsomine, Muske, and Amber-Greece, -wherewith (againe) the slaves bathed their bodyes in the -bed, & afterward presented them with variety of Comfites, as also -very precious Wines, serving them in stead of a little Collation. -<i>Salabetto</i> supposed himself to be in Paradise: for this appeared to be -no earthly joy, bestowing a thousand gladsome gazes on her, who -(questionlesse) was a most beautifull creature, and the tarrying of -the Slaves, seemed millions of yeares to him, that hee might more -freely embrace his <i>Biancafiore</i>. Leaving a Waxe Taper lighted in -the Chamber, the slaves departed, and then shee sweetly embracing -<i>Salabetto</i>, bestowed those further favours on him, which hee -came for, and she was not squeamish in the affoording; whereof he -was exceedingly joyfull, because he imagined, that they proceeded -from the integrity of her affection towards him.</p> - -<p>When she thought it convenient time to depart thence, the slaves -returned; they cloathed themselves, and had a Banquet standing -ready prepared for them; where-with they cheared their wearyed -spirits, after they had first washed in odorifferous waters. At parting: -<i>Salabetto</i> (quoth she) whensoever thy leysures shal best serve -thee, I will repute it as my cheefest happinesse, that thou wilt accept -a Supper and Lodging in my house, which let it be this instant -night, if thou canst. He being absolutely caught, both by hir beauty -and flattering behaviour: beleeved faithfully, that he was as intirely -beloved of her, as the heart is of the body: whereuppon hee -thus answered. Madame, whatsoever pleaseth you, must needes -be much more acceptable unto mee: and therefore, not onely -may command my service this night, but likewise the whole employment -of my life, to be onely yours in my very best studies and -endeavours.</p> - -<p>No sooner did she heare this answer, but she returned home to -her owne house, which she decked in most sumptuous manner, and -also made ready a costly Supper, expecting the arrivall of <i>Salabetto</i>: -who when the darke night was indifferently well entred, went -thither, and was welcommed with wonderfull kindnesse, wanting -no costly Wines and Delicates all the Supper while. Being afterward -conducted into a goodly Chamber, he smelt there admirable -sweete senting savours, such as might well beseeme a Princes Pallace. -He beheld a most costly Bed, and very rich furniture round -about the roome: which when he had duly considered to himself, -he was constantly perswaded, that she was a Lady of infinite wealth. -And although he had heard divers flying reports concerning her -life, yet hee would not credite any thing amisse of her, for albeit -she might (perhappes) beguile some other; yet shee affected him -(he thought) in better manner, and no such misfortune could happen -to him.</p> - -<p>Having spent all the night with her in wanton dalliances, & being -risen in the morning; to enflame his affection more and more -towards her, and to prevent any ill opinion he might conceyve of -her, she bestowed a rich and costly Girdle on him, as also a pursse -most curiously wrought, saying to him. My sweet <i>Salabetto</i>, with -these testimonies of my true affection to thee, I give thee faithfully -to understand, that as my person is onely subjected thine; so this -house and all the riches in it, remaineth absolutely at thy disposition, -or whatsoever hereafter shal happen within the compasse of my -power.</p> - -<p>He being not a little proud of this her bountifull offer (having -never bestowed any gift on her, because by no meanes shee would -admit it) after many sweet kisses and embraces; departed thence, -to the place where the Merchants usually frequented: resorting to -her (from time to time) as occasion served, and paying not one single -peny for all his wanton pleasure, by which cunning baytes (at -length) she caught him.</p> - -<p>It came to passe, that having made sale of all his Clothes, whereby -hee had great gaines, and the moneyes justly payed him at the -times appointed: <i>Biancafiore</i> got intelligence thereof; yet not by -him, but from one of the Brokers. <i>Salabetto</i> comming one night to -sup with her, she embraced and kissed him as she was wont to doe, -and seemed so wonderfully addicted in love to him, even as if shee -would have dyed with delight in his armes. Instantly, shee would -needs bestow two goodly gilt standing Cuppes on him, which <i>Salabetto</i> -by no meanes would receive, because she had formerly bin -very bountifull to him, to above the value of an hundred Crowns, -and yet she would not take of him so much as a mite. At length, -pressing still more tokens of her love and bounty on him, which he -as courteously denied, as she kindly offered: one of her Women-slaves -(as shee had before cunningly appointed) sodainely calling -her, forthwith she departed out of her Chamber. And when she -had continued a pretty while absent, she returned againe weeping; -and throwing her selfe downe upon her Pallet, breathed forth such -sighes and wofull lamentations, as no Woman could possibly doe -the like.</p> - -<p><i>Salabetto</i> amazedly wondering thereat, tooke her in his Armes, -and weeping also with her, said. Alas my deare Love, what sodain -accident hath befalne you, to urge this lamentable alteration? If you -love me, hide it not from me. After he had often entreated her in -this manner, casting her armes about his necke, and sighing as if her -heart would breake, thus she replyed.</p> - -<p>Ah <i>Salabetto</i>, the onely Jewell of my joy on earth, I knowe not -what to do, or say, for (even now) I received Letters from <i>Messina</i>, -wherein my Brother writes to me, that although it cost the sale -of all my goods, or whatsoever else I have beside, I must (within -eight dayes space) not faile to send him a thousand Florins of gold, -or else he must have his head smitten off, and I know not by what -meanes to procure them so soone. For, if the limitation of fifteene -dayes might serve the turne; I could borrow them in a place, where -I can command a farre greater summe, or else I would sel some part -of our Lands. But beeing no way able to furnish him so soone, I -would I had died before I heard these dismall tydings. And in the -uttering of these words, she graced them with such cunning dissembled -sorrow, as if she had meant truly indeed.</p> - -<p><i>Salabetto</i>, in whom the fury of his amorous flames, had consumed -a great part of his necessary understanding; beleeving these -counterfetted tears and complaints of hers, to proceed from an honest -meaning soule; rashly and foolishly thus replied. Deare <i>Biancafiore</i>, -I cannot furnish you with a thousand golden Florines, but am -able to lend you five hundred, if I were sure of their repayment at -fifteene dayes, wherein you are highly beholding to Fortune, that -I have made sale of all my Cloathes; which if they had lyen still on -my hand, my power could not stretch to lend you five Florines. -Alas deare heart (quoth she) would you be in such want of money, -and hide it from her that loves you so loyally? Why did you not -make your need knowne to me? Although I am not furnished of a -thousand Florines; yet I have alwaies ready three or foure hundred -by me, to do any kinde office for my friend. In thus wronging me, -you have robd me of all boldnes, to presume upon your offer made -me. <i>Salabetto</i>, far faster inveigled by these words then before, said. -Let not my folly (bright <i>Biancafiore</i>) cause you to refuse my friendly -offer, in such a case of extreme necessity: I have them ready prepared -for you, and am heartily sory, that my power cannot furnish -you with the whole summe.</p> - -<p>Then catching him fast in her armes, thus she answered. Now I -plainly perceive, my dearest <i>Salabetto</i>, that the love thou bearest -me is true and perfect; when, without expectation of being requested, -thou art readie to succour me in such an urgent neede, & with -so faire a summe of Florines. Sufficiently was I thine owne before, -but now am much more ingaged by so high deserving; with this -particular acknowledgement for ever, that my Brothers head was -redeemed by thy goodnesse onely. Heaven beareth me record, how -unwilling I am to be beholding in this kind, considring that you are -a Merchant, & Merchants furnish al their affairs with ready monis: -but seeing necessity constraineth me, and I make no doubt of repaiment -at the time appointed: I shall the more boldly accept your -kindnes, with this absolute promise beside, that I wil rather sell all -the houses I have, then breake my honest word with you.</p> - -<p>Counterfeit teares still drayning downe her cheeks, and <i>Salabetto</i> -kindly comforting her; he continued there with hir all that night, -to expresse himselfe her most liberall servant. And, without expecting -any more requesting, the next morning he brought her the -five hundred Florines, which she received with a laughing heart, -but outward dissembled weeping eies; <i>Salabetto</i> never demanding -any other security, but onely her single promise.</p> - -<p><i>Biancafiore</i>, having thus received the five hundred Florines, the -indiction of the Almanacke began to alter: and whereas (before) -<i>Salabetto</i> could come see her whensoever he pleased, many occasions -now happened, whereby he came seven times for once, and yet -his entrance was scarsely admitted, neither was his entertainment -so affable, or his cheare so bountifull, as in his former accesses thither. -Moreover, when the time for repaiment was come, yea a moneth -or two over-past, and he demanded to have his money; hee -could have nothing but words for paiment. Now he began to consider -on the craft and cunning of this wicked Woman, as also his -owne shallow understanding, knowing he could make no proofe of -his debt, but what her selfe listed to say, having neither witnes, specialty, -bill or bond to shew: which made his folly so shamefull to -him, that he durst not complaine to any person, because he had received -some advertisements before, whereto he wold by no means -listen, and now should have no other amends, but publike infamie, -scorne and disgrace, which made him almost weary of his life, and -much to bemoane his owne unhappinesse. He received also divers -Letters from his Master, to make returne of the 500. Florines over -by way of banke, according as he had used to do: but nowe could -performe no such matter.</p> - -<p>Hereupon, because his error should not be discovered, he departed -in a small vessell thence, not making for <i>Pisa</i>, as he should have -done, but directly for <i>Naples</i> hee shaped his course. At that instant -lodged there, <i>Don Pietro della Canigiano</i>, Treasurer of the Empresse -of <i>Constantinople</i>, a man of great wisedome and understanding, as -also very ingenious and politike, he being an especiall Favourer of -<i>Salabetto</i> and all his friendes, which made him presume the more -boldly (being urged thereto by meere necessity, the best corrector -of wandering wits) to acquaint him with his lamentable misfortune, -in every particular as it had hapned, requesting his aid and advice, -how he might best weare out the rest of his dayes, because hee -never meant to visit <i>Florence</i> any more.</p> - -<p><i>Canigiano</i> being much displeased at the repetition of his Follie, -sharply reproved him, saying. Thou hast done leudly, in carying thy -selfe so loosely, and spending thy Masters goods so carelesly, which -though I cannot truly tearme spent, but rather art meerely cousened -and cheated of them, yet thou seest at what a deere rate thou -hast purchased pleasure, which yet is not utterly helplesse, but may -by one meanes or other be recovered. And being a man of woonderfull -apprehension, advised him instantly what was to bee done, -furnishing him also with a summe of money, wherewith to adventure -a second losse, in hope of recovering the first againe: he caused -divers Packes to be well bound up, with the Merchants markes orderly -made on them, and bought about twenty Buttes or Barrelles, -all filled (as it were) with Oyle, and these pretended commodities -being shipt, <i>Salabetto</i> returned with them to <i>Palermo</i>. Where having -given in his packets to the Custome-house, and entred them -all under his owne name, as being both owner and factor: all his -Wares were lockt up in his <i>Magizine</i>, with open publication, that -he would not vent any of them, before other merchandises (which -he daily expected) were there also arrived.</p> - -<p><i>Biancafiore</i> having heard thereof, and understanding withall, that -he had brought Merchandises now with him, amounting to above -two thousand Florins, staying also in expectation of other commodities, -valewing better then three thousand more, she beganne to -consider with her selfe, that she had not yet gotten money enough -from him, and therefore would cast a figure for a farre bigger booty. -Which that she might the more fairely effect, without so much -as an imagination of the least mistrust: she would repay him backe -his five hundred Florines, to winne from him a larger portion of -two or three thousand at the least, and having thus setled her determination, -she sent to have him come speake with her. <i>Salabetto</i>, -having bene soundly bitten before, and therefore the better warranted -from the like ranckling teeth; willingly went to her, not shewing -any signe of former discontent: & she, seeming as if she knew -nothing of the wealth he brought with him; gracing him in as loving -manner as ever she had done, thus she spake.</p> - -<p>I am sure <i>Salabetto</i>, you are angry with mee, because I restored -not your Florines at my promised day. <i>Salabetto</i> smiling, presently -answered. Beleeve me Lady (quoth he) it did a little distast me, -even as I could have bin offended with him, that should plucke out -my heart to bestow it on you, if it would yeelde you any contentment. -But to let you know unfainedly, how much I am incensed -with anger against you: such and so great is the affection I beare -you, that I have solde the better part of my whole estate, converting -the same into Wealthy Merchandises, which I have alreadie -brought hither with mee, and valewing above two thousand Florines, -all which are stored up in in my <i>Magazine</i>. There must they remaine, -till another Ship come forth of the Western parts, wherein -I have a much greater adventure, amounting unto more then -three thousand Florines. And my purpose is, to make my aboade -heere in this City, which hath won the sole possession of my heart, -onely in regard of my <i>Biancafiore</i>, to whom I am so intirely devoted, -as both my selfe, and whatsoever else is mine (now or hereafter) is -dedicated onely to her service; whereto thus she replyed.</p> - -<p>Now trust me <i>Salabetto</i>, whatsoever redoundeth to thy good -and benefite, is the cheefest comfort of my soule, in regard I prize -thy love dearer then mine owne life, and am most joyfull of thy returne -hither againe; but much more of thy still abiding heere, because -I intend to live onely with thee, so soone as I have taken order -for some businesse of import. In the meane while, let me entreate -thee to hold me excused, because before thy departure hence, thou -camest sometimes to see me, without thy entrance admitted; and -other-whiles againe, found not such friendly entertainement, as -formerly had bene affoorded. But indeede, and above all the rest, -in not re-paying thy money according to my promise. But consider -good <i>Salabetto</i>, in what great trouble and affliction of minde I -then was, both in regard of my Brothers danger, and other important -occurrences beside, which molestations do much distract the -senses, and hinder kinde courtesies, which otherwise would bee extended -liberally.</p> - -<p>Last of all consider also, how difficult a thing it is for a woman, -so sodainly to raise the summe of a thousand golden Florines, when -one friend promiseth, and performeth not; another protesteth, yet -hath no such meaning; a third sweareth, and yet proveth a false Lyar: -so that by being thus ungently used, a breach is made betweene -the best friends living. From hence it proceeded, and no other defect -else, that I made not due returne of your five hundred Florins. -No sooner were you departed hence, but I had them readie, and as -many more, and could I have knowne whither to send them, they -had bene with you long time since, which because I could not (by -any meanes) compasse, I kept them still for you in continuall readinesse, -as hoping of your comming hither againe. So causing a purse -to be brought, wherein the same Florines were, which hee had delivered -her; she gave it into his hand, and prayed him to count them -over, whether there were so many, or no.</p> - -<p>Never was <i>Salabettoes</i> heart halfe so joyfull before; and having -counted them, found them to be his owne five hundred Florines: -then, putting them up into his pocket, he saide. Comfort of my -life, Full well I know that whatsoever you have saide, is most certaine; -but let us talke no more of falshood in friendship, or casuall -accidents happening unexpected: you have dealt with mee like a -most loyall Mistresse, and heere I protest unfainedly to you, that as -well in respect of this kinde courtesie, as also the constancy of mine -affection to you, you cannot request hereafter a far greater summe -of me, to supply any necessarie occasion of yours; but (if my power -can performe it) you shall assuredly finde it certaine: make proofe -thereof whensoever you please, after my other goods are Landed, -and I have established my estate here in your City.</p> - -<p>Having in this manner renewed his wonted amity with her, and -with words farre enough off from all further meaning: <i>Salabetto</i> -began againe to frequent her company, she expressing all former familiarity, -and shewing her selfe as lavishly bountifull to him, in all -respects as before she had done, nay, many times in more magnificent -manner.</p> - -<p>But he intending to punish her notorious trechery towards him, -when she left him as an open scorne to the World, wounded with -disgrace, and quite out of credit with all his friends: she having (on -a day) solemnly invited him, to suppe and lodge in her house all -night; he went, both with sad and melancholly lookes, seeming as -overcome with extreamity of sorrow. <i>Biancafiore</i> mervayling at -this strange alteration in him, sweetly kissing and embracing him: -would needs know the reason of his passionate affliction, & he permitting -her to urge the question oftentimes together, without returning -any direct answere; to quit her in her kind, and with coine -of her owne stampe, after a few dissembled sighes, he began in this -manner.</p> - -<p>Ah my dearest Love, I am utterly undone, because the Shippe -containing the rest of mine expected Merchandises, is taken by the -Pyrates of <i>Monago</i>, and put to the ransome of tenne thousand Florines -of Gold, and my part particularly, is to pay one thousand. At -this instant I am utterly destitute of money, because the five hundred -Florines which I received of you, I sent hence the next daie -day following to <i>Naples</i>, to buy more cloathes, which likewise are -to be sent hither. And if I should now make sale of the Merchandizes -in my Magazine (the time of generall utterance being not yet -come) I shall not make a pennyworth for a penny. And my misfortune -is the greater, because I am not so well knowne heere in your -City, as to find some succour in such an important distresse; wherefore -I know not what to do or say. Moreover, if the money be not -speedily sent, our goods will be carried into <i>Monago</i>, and then they -are past all redemption utterly.</p> - -<p><i>Biancafiore</i> appearing greatly discontented, as one verily perswaded, -that this pretended losse was rather hers, then his, because she -aymed at the mainest part of all his wealth: began to consider with -her selfe, which was the likeliest course to be taken, for saving the -goods from carriage to <i>Monago</i>: whereupon thus she replied. Heaven -knoweth (my dearest <i>Salabetto</i>) how thy love maketh me sorrowfull -for this misfortune, and it greeveth me to see thee any way -distressed: for if I had mony lying by mee (as many times I have) -thou shouldst finde succour from my selfe onely, but indeede I am -not able to helpe thee. True it is, there is a friend of mine, who did -lend me five hundred Florines in my need, to make uppe the other -summe which I borrowed of thee: but he demandeth extreme interest, -because he will not abate any thing of thirty in the hundred, -and if you should bee forced to use him, you must give him some -good security. Now for my part, the most of my goods here I will -pawne for thee: but what pledge can you deliver in to make up the -rest? Wel did <i>Salabetto</i> conceive, the occasion why she urged this -motion, and was so diligent in doing him such a pleasure: for it appeared -evidently to him, that herselfe was to lend the mony, whereof -he was not a little joyful, seeming very thankful to hir. Then he told -her, that being driven to such extremity, how unreasonable soever -the usury was, yet he would gladly pay for it. And for her Friends -further security, hee would pawne him all the goods in his <i>Magazine</i>, -entering them downe in the name of the party, who lent the -money. Onely he desired to keepe the Keyes of the Ware-house, -as well to shew his Merchandises, when any Merchant should bee -so desirous: as also to preserve them from ill using, transporting or -changing, before his redemption of them.</p> - -<p>She found no fault with his honest offer, but sayde, hee shewed -himselfe a well-meaning man, and the next morning shee sent for a -Broker, in whom she reposed especiall trust; and after they had privately -consulted together, shee delivered him a thousand Golden -Florines, which were caried by him presently to <i>Salabetto</i>, and the -Bond made in the Brokers name, of all the goods remaining in <i>Salabettoes</i> -ware-house, with composition and absolute agreement, for -the prefixed time of the monies repaiment. No sooner was this -tricke fully accomplished, but <i>Salabetto</i> seeming as if he went to redeeme -his taken goods: set saile for <i>Naples</i> towards <i>Pietro della Canigiano</i>, -with fifteene hundred Florines of Gold: from whence also -he sent contentment to his Master at <i>Florence</i> (who imployd him -as his Factor at <i>Palermo</i>) beside his owne packes of Cloathes. He -made repayment likewise to <i>Canigiano</i>, for the monies which furnished -him in this last voyage, and any other to whom hee was indebted. -So there he stayed awhile with <i>Canigiano</i>, whose counsel -thus holpe him to out-reach the <i>Sicillian</i> Courtezane: and meaning -to deale in Merchandise no more, afterward he returned to <i>Florence</i> -and there lived in good reputation.</p> - -<p>Now as concerning <i>Biancafiore</i>, when she saw that <i>Salabetto</i> returned -not againe to <i>Palermo</i>, she beganne to grow somewhat abashed, -as halfe suspecting that which followed. After she had tarried -for him above two moneths space, and perceived hee came not, -nor any tydings heard of him: shee caused the Broker to breake open -the Magazine, casting forth the Buttes or Barrels, which shee -beleeved to bee full of good Oyles. But they were all filled with -Sea-Water, each of them having a small quantity of Oyle floating -on the toppe, onely to serve when a tryall should bee made. And -then unbinding the Packes, made up in formall and Merchantable -manner: there was nothing else in them, but Logges and stumpes -of Trees; wrapt handsomely in hurdles of Hempe and Tow; onely -two had Cloathes in them. So that (to bee briefe) the whole did -not value two hundred Crownes: which when she saw, and observed -how cunningly she was deceived: a long while after shee sorrowed, -for repaying backe the five hundred Florines, and folly in -lending a thousand more, using it as a Proverbe alwaies after to hir -selfe: <i>That whosoever dealt with a Tuscane, had neede to have found -sight and judgement.</i> So remaining contented (whither she would -or no) with her losse: she plainly perceyved, that although she lived -by cheating others, yet now at the length she had mette with -her match.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>So soone as <i>Dioneus</i> had ended his Novell, Madame <i>Lauretta</i> -also knew, that the conclusion of her Regiment was -come; whereupon, when the counsell of <i>Canigiano</i> had -past with generall commendation, and the wit of <i>Salabetto</i> no lesse -applauded, for fitting it with such an effectuall prosecution; shee -tooke the Crowne of Laurell from her owne head, and set it upon -Madame <i>Æmilliaes</i>, speaking graciously in this manner. Madam, -I am not able to say, how pleasant a Queene we shall have of you, -but sure I am, that we shall enjoy a faire one: let matters therefore -be so honourably carried; that your government may be answerable -to your beautifull perfections; which words were no sooner delivered, -but she sate downe in her mounted seate.</p> - -<p>Madame <i>Æmillia</i> being somewhat bashfull, not so much of hir -being created Queene, as to heare her selfe thus publikely praysed, -with that which Women do most of all desire: her face then appearing, -like the opening of the Damaske Rose, in the goodlyest -morning. But after she had a while dejected her lookes, and the -Vermillion blush was vanished away: having taken order with the -Master of the houshold, for all needfull occasions befitting the assembly, -thus she began.</p> - -<p>Gracious Ladies, wee behold it daily, that those Oxen which -have laboured in the yoake most part of the day, for their more -convenient feeding, are let forth at liberty, and permitted to wander -abroad in the Woods. We see moreover, that Gardens and -Orchards, being planted with variety of the fairest fruit Trees, are -equalled in beauty by Woods and Forrests, in the plentifull enjoying -of as goodly spreading branches. In consideration whereof, remembring -how many dayes wee have already spent (under the severitie -of Lawes imposed) shaping all our discourses to a forme of -observation: I am of opinion, that it will not onely well become -us, but also prove beneficiall for us, to live no longer under such restraint, -and like enthralled people, desirous of liberty, wee should -no more be subjected to the yoke, but recover our former strength -in walking freely.</p> - -<p>Wherefore, concerning our pastime purposed for to morrow, I -am not minded to use any restriction, or tye you unto any particular -ordination: but rather do liberally graunt, that every one shall -devise and speake of arguments agreeing with your owne dispositions.</p> - -<p>Besides, I am verily perswaded, that variety of matter uttered so -freely, will be much more delightfull, then restraint to one kinde of -purpose onely. Which being thus granted by me, whosoever shal -succeede me in the government may (as being of more power and -preheminence) restraine all backe againe to the accustomed lawes. -And having thus spoken, she dispensed with their any longer attendance, -untill it should be Supper time.</p> - -<p>Every one commended the Queenes appointment, allowing it to -rellish of good wit and judgement; and being all risen, fell to such -exercises as they pleased. The Ladies made Nosegaies and Chaplets -of Flowers, the men played on their Instruments, singing divers -sweete Ditties to them, and thus were busied untill Supper -time. Which beeing come, and they supping about the beautifull -Fountains: after Supper, they fell to singing and dauncing. In the -end, the Queene, to imitate the order of her predecessors, commanded -<i>Pamphilus</i>, that notwithstanding all the excellent songs formerly -sung: he should now sing one, whereunto dutifully obeying, -thus he began.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">THE SONG.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Chorus sung by all.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Love, I found such felicitie,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And joy, in thy captivitie:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As I before did never prove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thought me happy, being in Love.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Comfort abounding in my hart,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Joy and Delight<br /></span> -<span class="i7">In soule and spright<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I did possesse in every part;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O Soveraigne Love by thee.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Thy Sacred fires,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Fed my desires,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">And still aspires,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy happy thrall to bee.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Love, I found such felicity, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">My Song wants power to relate,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">The sweets of minde<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Which I did finde<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In that most blissefull state,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O Soveraigne Love by thee.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">No sad despaire,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Or killing care<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Could me prepare;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still thou didst comfort me.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Love, I found such felicity, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">I hate all such as do complaine,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Blaspheming thee<br /></span> -<span class="i7">With Cruelty,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sleights of coy disdaine.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O Soveraigne Love, to mee<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Thou hast bene kinde:<br /></span> -<span class="i7">If others finde.<br /></span> -<span class="i7">Thee worse inclinde,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet I will honour thee.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">LOVE, I found such felicitie,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And joy in thy Captivitie:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As I before did never prove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But thought me happie, being in Love.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>Thus the Song of <i>Pamphilus</i> ended, whereto all the rest (as a -Chorus) answered with their Voyces, yet every one particularly -(according as they felt their Love-sicke passions) made a curious -construction thereof, perhaps more then they needed, yet not Divining -what <i>Pamphilus</i> intended. And although they were transported -with variety of imaginations; yet none of them could arrive -at his true meaning indeed. Wherefore the Queene, perceiving the -Song to be fully ended, and the Ladies, as also the young Gentlemen, -willing to go take their rest: she commaunded them severally -to their Chambers.</p> - - -<h4><i>The End of the Eight Day.</i></h4> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="THE_NINTH_DAY" id="THE_NINTH_DAY">THE -NINTH -DAY.</a></h2> - - -<h4><i>Whereon, under the Government of Madame</i> -<span class="smcap">Æmillia,</span> <i>the Argument of each severall -Discourse, is not limitted to any one peculiar -subject: but every one remaineth at liberty, -to speak of whatsoever themselves best pleaseth.</i></h4> - - -<h4>The Induction.</h4> - - -<p>Faire <i>Aurora</i>, from whose bright -and chearefull lookes, the duskie -darke night flyeth as an utter enemy, -had already reached so high as -the eight Heaven, converting it -all into an Azure colour, and the -pretty Flowrets beganne to spred -open their Leaves: when Madame <i>Æmillia</i>, beeing -risen, caused all her female attendants, and the young -Gentlemen likewise, to be summoned for their personall -appearance. Who being all come, the Queen -leading the way, and they following her Majesticke -pace, walked into a little Wood, not farre off distant -from the Palace.</p> - -<p>No sooner were they there arrived, but they beheld -store of Wilde Beasts, as Hindes, Hares, Goats, -and such like; so safely secured from the pursuite of -Huntsmen (by reason of the violent Pestilence then -reigning) that they stood gazing boldly at them, as -dreadlesse of any danger, or as if they were become -tame and Domesticke.</p> - -<p>Approaching neerer them, first to one, then unto -another, as if they purposed to play gently with -them, they then beganne to skippe and runne, making -them such pastime with their pretty tripping, -that they conceyved great delight in beholding of -them.</p> - -<p>But when they beheld the Sunne to exalt itselfe, it -was thought convenient to return back again, shrouding -themselves under the Trees spreading armes, -their hands full of sweete Flowers and Odorifferous -Hearbes, which they had gathered in their Walking. -So that such as chanced to meete them, could say nothing -else: but that death knew not by what meanes -to conquer them, or els they had set down an absolute -determination, to kill him with their Joviall disposition.</p> - -<p>In this manner, singing, dancing, or prettily pratling, -at length they arrived at the Palace, where they -found all things readily prepared, and their Servants -duly attending for them. After they hadde reposed -themselves awhile, they would not (as yet) sit downe -at the Table, untill they had sung halfe a dozen of -Canzonets, some more pleasant then another, both -the women and men together.</p> - -<p>Then they fell to washing hands, and the Maister -of the Houshold caused them to sit downe, according -as the Queene had appointed, and Dinner was most -sumptuously served in before them. Afterward, when -the Tables were with-drawne, they all tooke handes -to dance a Roundelay; which being done, they plaied -on their Instruments a while; and then, such as so -pleased, tooke their rest. But when the accustomed -houre was come, they all repaired to the place of discoursing, -where the Queen, looking on Madam <i>Philomena</i>, -gave her the honour of beginning the first Novell -for that day: whereto shee dutifully condiscending, -began as followeth.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Madam_Francesca_a_Widdow_of_Pistoya_being_affected_by_two_Florentine" id="Madam_Francesca_a_Widdow_of_Pistoya_being_affected_by_two_Florentine"><i>Madam</i> Francesca, <i>a Widdow of</i> Pistoya, <i>being affected by two</i> Florentine -<i>Gentlemen, the one named</i> Rinuccio Palermini, <i>and the other</i> -Alessandro Chiarmontesi, <i>and she bearing no good will to eyther -of them; ingeniously freed her selfe from both their importunate -suites. One of them she caused to lye as dead in a grave, and the -other to fetch him from thence: so neither of them accomplishing -what they were enjoyned, fayled of obtaining his hoped expectation.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The First Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Approving, that chaste and honest Women, ought rather to deny importunate -suiters, by subtile and ingenious meanes, then fall into the -danger of scandall and slander.</i></h4> - - -<p>Madame, it can no way discontent mee (seeing -it is your most gracious pleasure) that I -should have the honour, to breake the first -staffe of freedome in this faire company (according -to the injunction of your Majesty) -for liberty of our own best liking arguments: -wherein I dismay not (if I can speake well enough) -but to please you all as well, as any -other that is to follow me. Nor am I so oblivious (worthy Ladies) -but full well I remember, that many times hath bene related in our -passed demonstrations, how mighty and variable the powers of -love are: and yet I cannot be perswaded, that they have all bene so -sufficiently spoken of, but something may bee further added, and -the bottome of them never dived into, although we should sit arguing -a whole yeare together. And because it hath beene alreadie -approved, that Lovers have bene led into divers accidents, not onely -inevitable dangers of death, but also have entred into the verie -houses of the dead, thence to convey their amorous friends: I purpose -to acquaint you with a Novell, beside them which have bene -discoursed; whereby you may not onely comprehend the power -of Love, but also the wisedome used by an honest Gentlewoman, -to rid her selfe of two importunate suiters, who loved her against -her owne liking, yet neither of them knowing the others affection.</p> - -<p>In the City of <i>Pistoya</i>, there dwelt sometime a beautifull Gentlewoman, -being a Widdow, whom two of our <i>Florentines</i> (the one -named <i>Rinuccio Palermini</i>, and the other <i>Alessandro Chiarmontesi</i>), -having withdrawne themselves to <i>Pistoya</i> desperately affected, the -one ignorant of the others intention, but each carrying his case -closely, as hoping to be possessed of her. This Gentlewoman, named -Madame <i>Francesca de Lazzari</i>, being often solicited by their -messages, and troublesomely pestered with their importunities: at -last (lesse advisedly then she intended) shee granted admittance to -heare either of them speake. Which she repenting, and coveting to -be rid of them both, a matter not easie to be done: she wittily devised -the onely meanes, namely, to move such a motion to them, as -neither would willingly undertake, yet within the compasse of possibility; -but they failing in the performance, shee might have the -more honest occasion, to bee free from all further molestation by -them, and her politike intention was thus projected.</p> - -<p>On the same day, when she devised this peece of service, a man -was buried in <i>Pistoya</i>, and in the Church-yard belonging unto the -gray Friars, who being descended of good and worthie parentage: -yet himselfe was very infamous, and reputed to be the vilest man living, -not onely there in <i>Pistoya</i>, but throughout the whole World -beside. Moreover, while he lived, he had such a strange misshapen -body, and his face so ugly deformed, that such as knew him not, -would stand gastly affrighted at the first sight of him. In regarde -whereof, shee considered with her selfe, that the foule deformitie -of this loathed fellow, would greatly avayle in her determination, -and consulting with her Chamber-maid, thus she spake.</p> - -<p>Thou knowest (my most true and faithfull servant) what trouble -and affliction of minde I suffer dayly, by the messages and -Letters of the two <i>Florentines, Rinuccio</i> and <i>Alessandro,</i> how hatefull -their importunity is to me, as being utterly unwilling to hear them -speake, or yeeld to any thing which they desire. Wherefore, to -free my selfe from them both together, I have devised (in regard of -their great and liberall offers) to make trial of them in such a matter, -as I am assured they will never performe.</p> - -<p>It is not unknowne to thee, that in the Church-yard of the Gray -Friars, and this instant morning, <i>Scannadio</i> (for so was the ugly -fellow named) was buried; of whom, when he was living, as also -now being dead, both men, women, and children, doe yet stand in -feare, so gastly and dreadfull alwayes was his personall appearance -to them. Wherefore, first of all go thou to <i>Alessandro</i>, and say to -him thus. My Mistris <i>Francesca</i> hath sent me to you, to tell you, -that now the time is come, wherein you may deserve to enjoy her -love, and gaine the possession of her person, if you will accomplish -such a motion as she maketh to you. For some especiall occasion, -wherewith hereafter you shall bee better acquainted, a neere Kinsman -of hers, must needs have the body of <i>Scannadio</i> (who was buried -this morning) brought to her house. And she, being as much -affraid of him now he is dead, as when he was living, by no meanes -would have his body brought thither.</p> - -<p>In which respect, as a Token of your unfeigned love to her, and -the latest service you shall ever do for her: shee earnestly entreateth -you, that this night, in the very deadest time thereof, you would go -to the grave, where <i>Scannadio</i> lyeth yet uncovered with earth untill -to morrow, and attyring your selfe in his garments, even as if you -were the man himselfe, so to remaine there untill her kinsman doe -come.</p> - -<p>Then, without speaking any one word, let him take you foorth -of the grave, & bring you thence (insted of <i>Scannadio</i>) to hir house: -where she will give you gentle welcome, and disappoint her Kinsman -in his hope, by making you Lord of her, and all that is hers, -as afterward shall plainly appeare. If he say he wil do it, it is as much -as I desire: but if hee trifle and make deniall, then boldly tell him, -that he must refraine all places wheresoever I am, and forbeare to -send me any more Letters, or messages.</p> - -<p>Having done so, then repaire to <i>Rinuccio Palermini</i>, and say. My -Mistresse <i>Francesca</i> is ready to make acceptance of your love; provided, -that you will do one thing for her sake. Namely, this ensuing -night, in the midst & stillest season thereof, to go to the grave where -<i>Scannadio</i> was this morning buried, & (without making any noise) -or speaking one word, whatsoever you shall heare or see: to take -him forth of the grave, and bring him home to her house, where you -shal know the reason of this strange businesse, and enjoy her freely -as your owne for ever. But if he refuse to do it, then I commaund -him, never hereafter to see me, or move further suite unto mee, by -any meanes whatsoever.</p> - -<p>The Chamber-maide went to them both, and delivered the severall -messages from her Mistresse, according as she had given her -in charge; whereunto each of them answered, that they woulde -(for her sake) not onely descend into a Grave, but also into hell, if -it were her pleasure.</p> - -<p>She returning with this answer unto her Mistresse, <i>Francesca</i> remained -in expectation, what the issue of these fond attemptes in -them, would sort unto. When night was come, and the middle -houre thereof already past, <i>Alessandro Chiarmontesi</i>, having put off -all other garments to his doublet and hose, departed secretly from -his lodging, walking towards the Church-yard, where <i>Scannadio</i> -lay in his grave: but by the way as he went, hee became surprized -with divers dreadfull conceites and imaginations, and questioned -with himselfe thus.</p> - -<p>What a beast am I? What a businesse have I undertaken? And -whither am I going? What do I know, but that the Kinsman unto -this Woman, perhappes understanding mine affection to her, and -crediting some such matter, as is nothing so; hath laide this politicke -traine for me, that he may murther me in the grave? Which -(if it should so happen) my life is lost, and yet the occasion never -knowne whereby it was done. Or what know I, whether some secret -enemy of mine (affecting her in like manner, as I do) have devised -this stratagem (out of malice) against mee, to draw my life in -danger, and further his owne good Fortune? Then, contrary motions, -overswaying these suspitions, he questioned his thoughts in -another nature.</p> - -<p>Let me (quoth he) admit the case, that none of these surmises are -intended, but her Kinsman (by and in this manner devised) must -bring me into her house: I am not therefore perswaded, that he or -they do covet, to have the body of <i>Scannadio</i>, either to carry it thither, -or present it to her, but rather do aime at some other end. May -not I conjecture, that my close murthering is purposed, and this -way acted, as on him that (in his life time) had offended them? The -Maid hath straitly charged me, that whatsoever is said or done unto -me, I am not to speake a word. What if they pull out mine eies, -teare out my teeth, cut off my hands, or do me any other mischiefe: -Where am I then? Shall all these extremities barre me of speaking? -On the other side, if I speake, then I shall be knowne, and so much -the sooner (perhaps) be abused. But admit that I sustaine no injurie -at all, as being guilty of no transgression: yet (perchance) I shall -not be carried to her house, but to some other baser place, and afterward -she shall reprove me, that I did not accomplish what shee -commanded, and so all my labour is utterly lost.</p> - -<p>Perplexed with these various contradicting opinions, he was willing -divers times to turne home backe againe: yet such was the violence -of his love, and the power thereof prevailing against all sinister -arguments; as he went to the grave, and removing the boordes -covering it, whereinto he entred; and having despoiled <i>Scannadio</i> -of his garments, cloathed himselfe with them, & so laid him down, -having first covered the grave againe. Not long had hee tarryed -there, but he began to bethinke him, what manner of man <i>Scannadio</i> -was, and what strange reports had bene noised of him, not onely -for ransicking dead mens graves in the night season, but many other -abhominable Villanies committed by him, which so fearfully -assaulted him; that his haire stoode on end, every member of him -quaked, and every minute he imagined <i>Scannadio</i> rising, with intent -to strangle him in the grave. But his fervent affection overcoming -all these idle feares, and lying stone still, as if he had beene the -dead man indeede; he remained to see the end of his hope.</p> - -<p>On the contrary side, after midnight was past, <i>Rinuccio Palermini</i> -departed from his lodging, to do what hee was enjoyned by his -hearts Mistresse, and as hee went along, divers considerations also -ran in his minde, concerning occasions possible to happen. As, falling -into the hands of Justice, with the body of <i>Scannadio</i> upon his -backe, and being condemned for sacriledge, in robbing graves of -the dead; either to be burned, or otherwise so punished, as might -make him hatefull to his best friends, and meerely a shame to himselfe.</p> - -<p>Many other the like conceits molested him, sufficient to alter his -former determination: but affection was much more prevayling in -him, and made him use this consultation. How now <i>Rinuccio</i>? Wilt -thou dare to deny the first request, being mooved to thee by a Gentlewoman, -whom thou dearly lovest, and is the onely meanes, -whereby to gaine assurance of her gracious favour? Undoubtedly, -were I sure to die in the attempt, yet I will accomplish my promise. -And so he went on with courage to the grave.</p> - -<p><i>Alessandro</i> hearing his arrivall, and also the removall of the bords, -although he was exceedingly affraid; yet he lay quietly stil, and stirred -not, and <i>Rinuccio</i> beeing in the grave, tooke <i>Alessandro</i> by the -feete, haling him forth, and (mounting him uppon his backe) went -on thus loden, towards the house of Madam <i>Francesca</i>. As he passed -along the streets, unseene or unmet by any, <i>Alessandro</i> suffered many -shrewd rushings and punches, by turnings at the streets corners, -and jolting against bulkes, poasts, and stalles, which <i>Rinuccio</i> could -not avoyd, in regard the night was so wonderfully darke, as hee -could not see which way he went.</p> - -<p>Being come somewhat neere to the Gentlewomans house, and -she standing readie in the Window with her Maide, to see when -<i>Rinuccio</i> should arrive there with <i>Alessandro</i>, provided also of an -apt excuse, to send them thence like a couple of Coxcombes; it fortuned, -that the Watchmen, attending there in the same streete, for -the apprehension of a banished man, stolne into the City contrarie -to order; hearing the trampling of <i>Rinuccioes</i> feete, directed their -course as they heard the noise, having their Lanthorne and light -closely covered, to see who it should be, and what he intended, and -beating their weapons against the ground, demanded, Who goes -there? <i>Rinuccio</i> knowing their voyces, and that now was no time -for any long deliberation: let fall <i>Alessandro</i>, and ran away as fast -as his legs could carry him.</p> - -<p><i>Alessandro</i> being risen againe (although he was cloathed in <i>Scannadioes</i> -Garments, which were long and too bigge for him) fledde -away also as <i>Rinuccio</i> did. All which Madame <i>Francesca</i> easily discerned -by helpe of the Watchmens Lanthorne, and how <i>Rinuccio</i> -carried <i>Alessandro</i> on his backe, beeing attired in the Garments of -<i>Scannadio</i>: whereat she mervailed not a little, as also the great boldnesse -of them both. But in the midst of her mervailing, she laughed -very heartily, when she saw the one let the other fall, and both to -runne away so manfully. Which accident pleasing her beyond all -comparison, and applauding her good Fortune, to bee so happily -delivered from their daily molestation: she betooke herselfe to hir -Chamber with the Maide, avouching solemnly to her, that (questionlesse) -they both affected her dearely, having undertaken such a -straunge imposition, and verie neere brought it to a finall conclusion.</p> - -<p><i>Rinuccio</i>, being sadly discontented, and cursing his hard fortune, -would not yet returne home to his Lodging: but, when the watch -was gone forth of that streete, came backe to the place where he let -fall <i>Alessandro</i>, purposing to accomplish the rest of his enterprize. -But not finding the body, and remaining fully perswaded, that the -Watchmen were possessed thereof; hee went away, greeving extreamly. -And <i>Alessandro</i>, not knowing now what should become -of him: confounded with the like griefe and sorrow, that all his -hope was thus utterly overthrowne, retired thence unto his owne -house, not knowing who was the Porter which carried him.</p> - -<p>The next morning, the grave of <i>Scannadio</i> being found open, -& the body not in it, because <i>Alessandro</i> had thrown it into a deep -ditch neere adjoyning: all the people of <i>Pistoya</i> were possessed with -sundry opinions, some of the more foolish sort verily beleeving, -that the divell had caried away the dead body. Neverthelesse, each -of the Lovers, severally made knowne to Madam <i>Francesca</i>, what -he had done, and how disappointed, either excusing himselfe, that -though her command had not bin fully accomplished, yet to continue -her favour towards him. But she, like a wise and discreet Gentlewoman, -seeming not to credit either the one or other: discharged -her selfe honestly of them both, with a cutting answere, That shee -would never (afterward) expect any other service from them, because -they had fayled in their first injunction.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Madame_Usimbalda_Lady_Abbesse_of_a_Monastery_of_Nuns_in_Lombardie" id="Madame_Usimbalda_Lady_Abbesse_of_a_Monastery_of_Nuns_in_Lombardie"><i>Madame</i> Usimbalda, <i>Lady Abbesse of a Monastery of Nuns in</i> Lombardie, -<i>arising hastily in the night time without a Candle, to take -one of her Daughter Nunnes in bed with a young Gentleman, whereof -she was enviously accused, by certaine of her other Sisters: The -Abbesse her selfe (being at the same time in bed with a Priest) imagining -to have put on her head her plaited vayle, put on the Priests -breeches. Which when the poore Nunne perceyved; by causing the -Abbesse to see her owne error, she got her selfe to be absolved, and had -the freer liberty afterward, to be more familiar with her friend, then -formerly she had bin.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Second Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Whereby is declared, that whosoever is desirous to reprehend sinne in -other men, should first examine himselfe, that he be not guiltie of -the same crime.</i></h4> - - -<p>By this time, Madame <i>Philomena</i> sate silent, and the wit of -<i>Francesca</i>, in freeing her selfe from them whom she could -not fancie, was generally commended: as also on the contrary, -the bold presumption of the two amorous suiters, was reputed -not to be love, but meerely folly. And then the Queene, with -a gracious admonition, gave way for Madam Eliza to follow next; -who presently thus began.</p> - -<p>Worthy Ladies, Madame <i>Francesca</i> delivered her selfe discreetly -from trouble, as already hath bin related: but a young Nun, by -the helpe and favour of Fortune, did also free her selfe (in speaking -advisedly) from an inconvenience sodainly falling on her. And as -you well know, there wants none of them, who (like bold Bayards) -will be very forward in checking other mens misdemeanours, when -themselves, as my Novell will approve, deserve more justly to bee -corrected. As hapned to a Lady Abbesse, under whose governement -the same young Nunne was, of whom I am now to speake.</p> - -<p>You are then to understand (Gracious Auditors) that in <i>Lombardie</i> -there was a goodly Monastery, very famous for Holinesse and -Religion, where, among other sanctified Sisters, there was a young -Gentlewoman, endued with very singular beautie, being named <i>Isabella</i>, -who on a day, when a Kinsman of hers came to see her at -the grate, became enamored of a young Gentleman, being then in -his company.</p> - -<p>He likewise, beholding her to be so admirably beautifull, & conceyving -by the pretty glances of her eye, that they appeared to bee -silent intelligencers of the hearts meaning, grew also as affectionately -inclined towards her, and this mutuall love continued thus -concealed a long while, but not without great affliction unto them -both. In the end, either of them being circumspect and provident -enough, the Gentleman contrived a meanes, whereby he might secretly -visite his Nunne, wherewith she seemed no way discontented: -and this visitation was not for once or twice, but verie often, -and closely concealed to themselves.</p> - -<p>At length it came to passe, that either through their owne indiscreete -carriage, or jelous suspition in some others: it was espied by -one of the Sisters, both the Gentlemans comming and departing, -yet unknowne to him or <i>Isabella</i>. The saide Sister, disclosing the -same to two or three more: they agreed together, to reveale it to -the Lady Abbesse, who was named Madame <i>Usimbalda</i>, a holy and -devout Lady, in common opinion of all the Nunnes, and whosoever -else knew her.</p> - -<p>They further concluded (because <i>Isabella</i> should not deny theyr -accusation) to contrive the businesse so cunningly: that the Ladie -Abbesse should come her selfe in person, and take the young Gentleman -in bed with the Nun. And uppon this determination, they agreed -to watch nightly by turnes, because by no meanes they wold -be prevented: so to surprise poore <i>Isabella</i>, who beeing ignorant of -their treachery, suspected nothing. Presuming thus still on this secret -felicitie, and fearing no disaster to befall her: it chaunced (on a -night) that the young Gentleman being entred into the Nuns Dorter, -the Scowts had descried him, & intended to be revenged on her.</p> - -<p>After some part of the night was overpast, they divided themselves -into two bands, one to guard <i>Isabellaes</i> Dorter doore, the other -to carry newes to the Abbesse, and knocking at her Closet -doore, saide. Rise quickely Madame, and use all the hast you may, -for we have seene a man enter our Sister <i>Isabellaes</i> Dorter, and you -may take her in bed with him. The Lady Abbesse, who (the very -same night) had the company of a lusty Priest in bed with her selfe, -as oftentimes before she had, and he being alwayes brought thither -in a Chest: hearing these tidings, and fearing also, lest the Nunnes -hastie knocking at her doore, might cause it to fly open, and so (by -their entrance) have her owne shame discovered: arose very hastily, -and thinking she had put on her plaited vaile, which alwayes she -walked with in the night season, and used to tearme her Psalter; she -put the Priests breeches upon her head, and so went away in all -hast with them, supposing them verily to be her Psalter: but making -fast the Closet doore with her keye, because the Priest should not -be discovered.</p> - -<p>Away shee went in all haste with the Sisters, who were so -forward in the detection of poore <i>Isabella</i>, as they never regarded -what manner of vaile the Lady Abbesse wore on her head. And -being come to the Dorter doore, quickly they lifted it off from the -hookes, and being entred, found the two Lovers sweetly imbracing: -but yet so amazed at this sudden surprisall, as they durst not -stirre, nor speake one word. The young Nunne <i>Isabella</i>, was raised -forthwith by the other Sisters, and according as the Abbesse had -commaunded, was brought by them into the Chapter-house: the young -Gentleman remaining still in the Chamber, where he put on his -garments, awaiting to see the issue of this businesse, and verily intending -to act severe revenge on his betrayers, if any harme were done -to <i>Isabella</i>, and afterward to take her thence away with him, as -meaning to make her amends by marriage.</p> - -<p>The Abbesse being seated in the Chapter house, and all the other -Nunnes then called before her, who minded nothing else but the -poore offending Sister: she began to give her very harsh and vile -speeches, as never any transgressor suffered the like, and as to her -who had (if it should be openly knowne abroad) contaminated by -her lewde life and actions, the sanctity and good renowne of the -whole Monastery, and threatned her with very severe chastisement. -Poore <i>Isabella</i>, confounded with feare and shame, as being no way -able to excuse her fault, knew not what answer to make, but standing -silent, made her case compassionable to all the rest, even those -hard-hearted Sisters which betrayed her.</p> - -<p>And the Abbesse still continuing her harsh speeches, it fortuned, -that <i>Isabella</i>, raising her head, which before she dejected into hir bosome, -espied the breeches on her head, with the stockings hanging -on either side of her; the sight whereof did so much encourage her, -that boldly she said. Madam, let a poore offender advise you for to -mend your veile, and afterward say to me what you will.</p> - -<p>The Abbesse being very angry; and not understanding what she -meant, frowningly answered. Why how now saucy companion? -What vaile are you prating of? Are you so malapert, to bee chatting -already? Is the deed you have done, to be answered in such immodest -manner? <i>Isabella</i> not a jot danted by her sterne behaviour, -once againe said. Good Madam let me perswade you to sette your -vaile right, and then chide me as long as you will. At these words, -all the rest of the Nunnes exalted their lookes, to behold what vaile -the Abbesse wore on her head, wherewith <i>Isabella</i> should finde such -fault, and she her selfe lift up her hand to feele it: and then they all -perceyved plainly, the reason of <i>Isabellas</i> speeches, and the Abbesse -saw her owne error.</p> - -<p>Hereupon, when the rest observed, that she had no help to cloud -this palpable shame withall, the tide began to turne, and hir tongue -found another manner of Language, then her former fury to poore -<i>Isabella</i>, growing to this conclusion, that it is impossible to resist against -the temptations of the flesh. And therefore she saide: Let all -of you take occasion, according as it offereth it selfe, as both we and -our predecessors have done: to be provident for your selves, take -time while you may, having this sentence alwaies in remembrance, -<i>Si non caste, tamen caute</i>.</p> - -<p>So, having granted the young Nunne <i>Isabella</i> free absolution: the -Lady Abbesse returned backe againe to bed to the Priest, and <i>Isabella</i> -to the Gentleman. As for the other Sisters, who (as yet) were -without the benefit of friends; they intended to provide themselves -so soone as they could, being enduced thereto by so good example.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Master_Simon_the_Physitian_by_the_perswasions_of_Bruno_Buffalmaco" id="Master_Simon_the_Physitian_by_the_perswasions_of_Bruno_Buffalmaco"><i>Master</i> Simon <i>the Physitian, by the perswasions of</i> Bruno, Buffalmaco, -<i>and a third Companion, named</i> Nello, <i>made</i> Calandrino <i>to -beleeve, that he was conceived great with childe. And having Physicke -ministred to him for the disease: they got both good fatte Capons -and money of him, and so cured him, without any other manner -of deliverance.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Third Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Discovering the simplicity of some silly witted men, and how easie a -matter it is to abuse and beguile them.</i></h4> - - -<p>After that Madame <i>Eliza</i> had concluded her Novell, and -every one of the company given thankes to Fortune, for -delivering poore <i>Isabella</i> the faire young Nunne, from the -bitter reprehensions of the as faulty Abbesse, as also the malice of -her envious Sisters: the Queene gave command unto <i>Philostratus</i>, -that he should be the next in order, and hee (without expecting anie -other warning) began in this manner.</p> - -<p>Faire Ladies, the paltry Judge of the Marquisate, whereof yesterday -I made relation to you; hindred mee then of another Novell, -concerning silly <i>Calandrino</i>, wherewith I purpose now to acquaint -you. And because whatsoever hath already bin spoken of him, tended -to no other end but matter of merriment, hee and his companions -duly considered: the Novel which I shal now report, keepeth -within the selfesame compasse, and aimeth also at your contentment, -according to the scope of imposed variety.</p> - -<p>You have already heard what manner of man <i>Calandrino</i> was, -and likewise the rest of his pleasant Companions, who likewise are -now againe to be remembred, because they are actors in our present -discourse. It came so to passe, that an Aunt of <i>Calandrinoes</i> dying, -left him a legacy of two hundred Florines, wherewith he purposed -to purchase some small Farme-house in the countrey, or else to enlarge -the other, whereof he was possessed already. And, as if hee -were to disburse some ten thousand Florines, there was not a Broker -in all <i>Florence</i>, but understood what he intended to doe; and all -the worst was, that the strings of his purse could stretch no higher. -<i>Bruno</i>, and <i>Buffalmaco</i> (his auncient Confederates) who heard of -this good Fortune befalne him, advised him in such manner as they -were wont to do; allowing it much better for him, to make merrie -with the money in good cheare among them, then to lay it out in -paltry Land, whereto he would not by any meanes listen, but ridde -himselfe of them with a dinners cost, as loath to bee at anie further -charge with them.</p> - -<p>These merry Laddes meant not to leave him so; but sitting one -day in serious consultation, and a third man in their companie, named -<i>Nello</i>; they all three layde their braines in steep, by what means -to wash their mouths well, and <i>Calandrino</i> to bee at the cost thereof.</p> - -<p>And having resolved what was to bee done, they met togither -the next morning, even as <i>Calandrino</i> was comming foorth of his -house, and sundering themselves, to avoyd all suspition, yet beeing -not farre distant each from other; <i>Nello</i> first met him, and saide unto -him, Good Morrow <i>Calandrino</i>: which he requited backe agayne -with the same salutation. But then <i>Nello</i> standing still, looked him -stedfastly in the face: whereat <i>Calandrino</i> mervailing, sayd: <i>Nello</i>, -why dost thou behold me so advisedly? Whereunto <i>Nello</i> answered, -saying Hast thou felt any paine this last night past? Thou lookest nothing -so well, as thou didst yesterday. <i>Calandrino</i> began instantly to -wax doubtfull, and replyed thus. Dost thou see any alteration in my -face, whereby to imagine, I should feele some paine? In good faith <i>Calandrino</i> -(quoth <i>Nello</i>) me thinks thy countenance is strangely changed, -and surely it proceedeth from some great cause, and so he departed -away from him.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> being very mistrustfull, scratched his head, yet felte -he no grievance at all; and going still on; <i>Buffalmaco</i> sodainely -encountred him, upon his departure from <i>Nello</i>, and after salutations -passing betweene them; in a manner of admiration, demanded -what he ayled.</p> - -<p>Truly (quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) well enough to mine owne thinking, yet -notwithstanding, I met with <i>Nello</i> but even now; and he told me, that -my countenance was very much altred; Is it possible that I should bee -sicke, and feele no paine or distaste in any part of me? <i>Buffalmaco</i> answered; -I am not so skilfull in judgement, as to argue on the Nature -of distemper in the body: but sure I am, that thou hast some daungerous -inward impediment, because thou lookst (almost) like a man more -then halfe dead.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> began presently to shake, as if hee had had a Feaver -hanging on him, and then came <i>Bruno</i> looking fearefully on him, -and before he would utter any words, seemed greatly to bemoane -him, saying at length. <i>Calandrino</i>? Art thou the same man, or no? -How wonderfully art thou changed since last I saw thee, which is no -longer then yester day? I pray thee tell mee, How dooest thou feele thy -health?</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> hearing, that they all agreed in one opinion of him; -he beganne verily to perswade himselfe, that some sodaine sicknes, -had seised upon him, which they could discerne, although hee felt -no anguish at all: and therefore, like a man much perplexed in -minde, demanded of them, What he should do? Beleeve mee <i>Calandrino</i> -(answered <i>Bruno</i>) if I were worthy to give thee counsell, thou -shouldst returne home presently to thy house, and lay thee downe -in thy warme Bedde, covered with so many cloathes as thou canst -well endure. Then to Morrow morning, send thy Water unto -Learned Mayster Doctor the Physitian, who (as thou knowest) is -a man of most singular skill and experience: he will instruct thee -presently what is the best course to be taken, and we that have ever -beene thy loving friends, will not faile thee in any thing that lieth in -our power.</p> - -<p>By this time, <i>Nello</i> being come againe unto them, they all returned -home with <i>Calandrino</i> unto his owne house, whereinto he entering -very faintly, hee saide to his Wife: Woman, make my Bed -presently ready, for I feele my selfe to be growne extreamely sicke, -and see that thou layest cloathes enow upon me. Being thus laide in -his Bedde, they left him for that night, and returned to visite him -againe the verie next morning, by which time, he had made a reservation -of his Water, and sent it by a young Damosell unto Maister -Doctor, who dwelt then in the olde market place, at the signe -of the Muske Mellone. Then saide <i>Bruno</i> unto his Companions; -Abide you heere to keepe him company, and I will walke along to -the Physitian, to understand what he will say: and if neede be, I can -procure him to come hither with me. <i>Calandrino</i> very kindely accepted -his offer, saying withall. Well <i>Bruno</i>, thou shewst thy selfe -a friend in the time of necessity, I pray thee know of him, how the -case stands with me, for I feele a very strange alteration within mee, -far beyond all compasse of my conceite.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i> being gone to the Physitian, he made such expedition, that -he arrived there before the Damosell, who carried the Water, and -informed Master <i>Simon</i> with the whole tricke intended: wherefore, -when the Damosell was come, and hee had passed his judgement -concerning the water, he said to her.</p> - -<p>Maide, go home againe, and tell <i>Calandrino</i>, that he must keepe -himselfe very warme: and I my selfe will instantly be with him, to -enstruct him further in the quality of his sicknesse.</p> - -<p>The Damosell delivered her message accordingly, and it was not -long before Mayster Doctor <i>Simon</i> came, with <i>Bruno</i> also in his -company, and sitting downe on the beds side by <i>Calandrino</i>, hee -began to taste his pulse, and within a small while after, his Wife -being come into the Chamber, he said. Observe me well <i>Calandrino</i>, -for I speake to thee in the nature of a true friend; thou hast no other -disease, but only thou art great with child.</p> - -<p>So soone as <i>Calandrino</i> heard these words, in dispairing manner -he beganne to rage, and cry out aloud, saying to his wife. Ah thou -wicked woman, this is long of thee, and thou hast done me this mischeefe: -for alwayes thou wilt be upon me, ever railing at mee, and -fighting, untill thou hast gotten me under thee. Say thou divellish -creature, do I not tell thee true? The Woman, being of verie honest -and civill conversation, hearing her husband speake so foolishly: -blushing with shame, and hanging downe her head in bashfull -manner; without returning any answer, went forth of her Chamber.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> continuing still in his angry humour, wringing his -hands, and beating them upon his brest, said: Wretched man that -I am, What shall I do? How shal I be delivered of this child? Which -way can it come from me into the world? I plainly perceyve, that -I am none other then a dead man, and all through the wickednesse -of my Wife: heaven plague her with as many mischiefes, as I am -desirous to finde ease. Were I now in as good health, as heeretofore -I have beene, I would rise out of my bed, and never cease beating -her, untill I had broken her in a thousand peeces. But if Fortune -will be so favourable to me, as to helpe mee out of this dangerous -agony: hang me, if ever she get me under her againe, or make -me such an Asse, in having the mastery over mee, as divers times -she hath done.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno, Buffalmaco</i> and <i>Nello</i>, hearing these raving speeches of -<i>Calandrino</i>, were swolne so bigge with laughter, as if their ribbes -would have burst in sunder; neverthelesse, they abstained so well -as they were able; but Doctor <i>Simon</i> gaped so wide with laughing -as one might easily have pluckt out all his teeth. In the end, because -he could tarry there no longer, but was preparing to depart: -<i>Calandrino</i> thanked him for his paines, requesting that hee would -be carefull of him, in aiding him with his best advise and counsell, -and he would not be unmindfull of him. Honest neighbour <i>Calandrino</i>, -answered the Phisition, I would not have you to torment -your selfe, in such an impatient and tempestuous manner, because -I perceive the time so to hasten on, as we shall soone perceive (and -that within very few dayes space) your health well restored, and -without the sense of much paine; but indeed it wil cost expences. -Alas Sir, said <i>Calandrino</i>, make not any spare of my purse, to procure -that I may have safe deliverance. I have two hundred Florines, -lately falne to me by the death of mine Aunt, wherewith I intended -to purchase a Farme in the Countrey: take them all if need be, -onely reserving some few for my lying in Childbed. And then -Master Doctor, Alas, I know not how to behave my selfe, for I have -heard the grievous complaint of women in that case, oppressed -with bitter pangs and throwes; as questionlesse they will bee my -death, except you have the greater care of me.</p> - -<p>Be of good cheere neighbour <i>Calandrino</i>, replyed Doctor <i>Simon</i>, -I will provide an excellent distilled drinke for you, marvellously -pleasing in taste, and of soveraigne vertue, which will resolve -all in three mornings, making you as whole and as sound as a -Fish newly spawned. But you must have an especiall care afterward, -being providently wise, least you fall into the like follies againe. -Concerning the preparation of this precious drinke, -halfe a dozen of Capons, the very fairest and fattest, I must make -use of in the distillation: what other things shall bee imployed beside, -you may deliver forty Florines to one of these your honest -friends, to see all the necessaries bought, and sent me home to my -house. Concerning my businesse, make you no doubt thereof, for -I will have all distilled against to morrow, and then doe you drinke -a great Glasse full every morning, fresh and fasting next your -heart. <i>Calandrino</i> was highly pleased with his words, returning master -Doctor infinite thankes, and referring all to his disposing. And -having given forty Florines to <i>Bruno</i>, with other money beside, to -buy the halfe dozen of Capons: he thought himselfe greatly beholding -to them all, and protested to requite their kindenesse.</p> - -<p>Master Doctor being gone home to his house, made ready a -bottel of very excellent Hypocrasse, which he sent the next day according -to his promise: and <i>Bruno</i> having bought the Capons, -with other junkets, fit for the turne, the Phisitian and his merry -Companions, fed on them hartely for the givers sake. As for <i>Calandrino</i>, -he liked his dyet drinke excellently well, quaffing a large -Glassefull off three mornings together: afterward Master Doctor -and the rest came to see him, and having felt his pulse, the Phisition -said. <i>Calandrino</i>, thou art now as sound in health, as any man in all -<i>Florence</i> can be: thou needest not to keepe within doores any longer, -but walke abroad boldly, for all is well and the childe gone.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> arose like a joyfulll man, and walked daily through -the streets, in the performance of such affaires as belonged to him: -and every acquaintance he met withall, he told the condition of his -sudden sickenesse; and what a rare cure Master Doctor <i>Simon</i> had -wrought on him, delivering him (in three dayes space) of a childe, -and without the feeling of any paine. <i>Bruno, Buffalmaco,</i> and <i>Nello,</i> -were not a little jocond, for meeting so well with covetous <i>Calandrino</i>: -but how the Wife liked the folly of her Husband, I leave -to the judgement of all good Women.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Francesco_Fortarigo_played_away_all_that_he_had_at_Buonconvento" id="Francesco_Fortarigo_played_away_all_that_he_had_at_Buonconvento">Francesco Fortarigo, <i>played away all that he had at</i> Buonconvento, -<i>and likewise the money of</i> Francesco Aniolliero, <i>being his Master. -Then running after him in his shirt, and avouching that hee had -robbed him: he caused him to be taken by Pezants of the Country, -clothed himselfe in his Masters wearing garments, and (mounted -on his horse) rode thence to</i> Sienna, <i>leaving</i> Aniolliero <i>in his shirt, -and walked bare-footed.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The fourth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Serving as an admonition to all men, for taking Gamesters and Drunkards -into their service.</i></h4> - - -<p>The ridiculous words given by <i>Calandrino</i> to his Wife, all -the whole company hartily laughed at: but <i>Philostratus</i> -ceassing, Madame <i>Neiphila</i> (as it pleased the Queene -to appoint) began to speake thus. Vertuous Ladies, if it were not -more hard and uneasie for men, to make good their understanding -and vertue, then apparant publication of their disgrace and folly; -many would not labour in vaine, to curbe in their idle speeches -with a bridle, as you have manifestly observed by the weake wit of -<i>Calandrino</i>. Who needed no such fantastick circumstance, to cure -the strange disease, which he imagined (by sottish perswasions) to -have: had hee not been so lavish of his tongue, and accused his -Wife of over-mastering him. Which maketh me remember a Novell, -quite contrary to this last related, namely, how one man may -strive to surmount another in malice; yet he to sustaine the greater -harme, that had (at the first) the most advantage of his enemy, as I -will presently declare unto you.</p> - -<p>There dwelt in <i>Sienna</i>, and not many yeeres since, two young -men of equall age, both of them bearing the name of <i>Francesco</i>: but -the one was descended of the <i>Aniollieri</i>, and the other likewise of -the <i>Fortarigi</i>; so that they were commonly called <i>Aniolliero</i>, and -<i>Fortarigo</i>, both Gentlemen, and well derived. Now, although in -many other matters, their complexions did differ very much: Yet -notwithstanding, they varied not in one bad qualitie, namely too -great neglect of their Fathers, which caused their more frequent -conversation, as very familiar and respective friends. But <i>Aniolliero</i> -(being a very goodly and faire conditioned young Gentleman) -apparently perceiving, that he could not maintaine himselfe at <i>Sienna</i>, -in such estate as he liked, and upon the pension allowed him by -his Father, hearing also, that at the Marquisate of <i>Ancona</i>, there lived -the Popes Legate, a worthy Cardinall, his much indeared -good Lord and friend: he intended to goe visite him, as hoping -to advance his fortunes by him.</p> - -<p>Having acquainted his Father with this determination, he concluded -with him, to have that from him in a moment which might -supply his wants for many moneths, because he would be clothed -gallantly, and mounted honourably. And seeking for a servant -necessary to attend on him, it chanced that <i>Fortarigo</i> hearing thereof, -came presently to <i>Aniolliero</i>, intreating him in the best manner -he could, to let him waite on him as his serving man, promising -both dutifull and diligent attendance: yet not to demaund any other -wages, but onely payment of his ordinary expences. <i>Aniolliero</i> -made him answere, that he durst not give him entertainment, not -in regard of his insufficiency, and unaptnesse for service: but because -he was a great Gamester, and divers times would be beastly -drunke? whereto <i>Fortarigo</i> replyed that hee would refraine from -both those foule vices, and addict all his endeavour wholly to please -him, without just taxation of any grosse error; making such solemne -vowes and protestations beside, as conquered <i>Aniolliero</i>, -and won his consent.</p> - -<p>Being entred upon his journey, and arriving in a morning at -<i>Buonconvento</i>, there <i>Aniolliero</i> determined to dine, and afterward, -finding the heate to be unfit for travaile; he caused a bed to be prepared, -wherein being laid to rest by the helpe of <i>Fortarigo</i>, he gave -him charge, that after the heates violence was overpast, hee should -not faile to call and awake him. While <i>Aniolliero</i> slept thus in -his bed, <i>Fortarigo</i>, never remembring his solemne vowes and promises: -went to the Taverne, where having drunke indifferently, and -finding company fit for the purpose, he fell to play at the dice with -them. In a very short while, he had not onely lost his money, but -all the cloathes on his backe likewise, and coveting to recover his -losses againe; naked in his shirt, he went to <i>Aniollieroes</i> Chamber, -where finding him yet soundly sleeping, he tooke all the money he -had in his purse, and then returned backe to play, speeding in the -same manner as hee did before, not having one poore penny left -him.</p> - -<p><i>Aniolliero</i> chancing to awake, arose and made him ready, without -any servant to helpe him; then calling for <i>Fortarigo</i>, and not -hearing any tydings of him: he began immediately to imagine, -that he was become drunke, and so had falne asleepe in one place -or other, as very often he was wont to doe. Wherefore, determining -so to leave him, he caused the male and Saddle to be set on his -horse; & so to furnish himselfe with a more honest servant at <i>Corsignano</i>.</p> - -<p>But when hee came to pay his hoste, hee found not any penny -left him: whereupon (as well he might) he grew greatly offended, -and raised much trouble in the house, charged the hoasts people to -have robde him, and threatening to have them sent as prisoners -to <i>Sienna</i>. Suddenly entred <i>Fortarigo</i> in his shirt, with intent to -have stolne <i>Aniollieroes</i> garments, as formerly hee did the money -out of his purse, and seeing him ready to mount on horsebacke, hee -saide.</p> - -<p>How now <i>Aniolliero</i>? What shall we goe away so soone? -I pray you Sir tarry a little while, for an honest man is comming -hither, who hath my Doublet engaged for eight and thirty shillings; -and I am sure that he will restore it me back for five and thirty, -if I could presently pay him downe the money.</p> - -<p>During the speeches, an other entred among them, who assured -<i>Aniolliero</i>, that <i>Fortarigo</i> was the Thiefe which robde him of his -money, shewing him also how much hee had lost at the Dice: -Wherewith <i>Aniolliero</i> being much mooved, very angerly reprooved -<i>Fortarigo</i>, and, but for feare of the Law, would have offered -him outrage, thretning to have him hangd by the neck, or else condemned -to the Gallies belonging to <i>Florence</i>, and so mounted on -his horse. <i>Fortarigo</i> making shew to the standers by, as if <i>Aniolliero</i> -menaced some other body, and not him, said. Come <i>Aniolliero</i>, -I pray thee let us leave this frivolous prating, for (indeede) it is -not worth a Button, and minde a matter of more importance: my -Doublet will bee had againe for five and thirty shillings, if the -money may bee tendered downe at this very instant, whereas if we -deferre it till to morrow, perhaps hee will then have the whole -eight and thirty which he lent me, and he doth me this pleasure, because -I am ready (at another time) to affoord him the like courtesie; -why then should we loose three shillings, when they may so easily -be saved.</p> - -<p><i>Aniolliero</i> hearing him speake in such confused manner, and perceiving -also, that they which stood gazing by, beleeved (as by their -lookes appeared) that <i>Fortarigo</i> had not played away his Masters -mony at the Dice, but rather that he had some stocke of <i>Fortarigoes</i> -in his custody; angerly answered; Thou sawcy companion, what -have I to doe with thy Doublet? I would thou wert hangd, not only -for playing away my money, but also by delaying thus my journey, -and yet boldly thou standest out-facing mee, as if I were no -better then thy fellow. <i>Fortarigo</i> held on still his former behaviour, -without using any respect or reverence to <i>Aniolliero</i>, as if all -the accusations did not concerne him, but saying, Why should wee -not take the advantage of three shillings profit? Thinkest thou, that -I am not able to doe as much for thee? why, lay out so much money -for my sake, and make no more haste then needs we must, because -we have day-light enough to bring us (before night) to <i>Torreniero</i>. -Come, draw thy purse, and pay the money, for upon mine -honest word, I may enquire throughout all <i>Sienna</i>, and yet not find -such another Doublet as this of mine is. To say then, that I should -leave it, where it now lyeth pawned, and for eight and thirty shillings, -when it is richly more worth then fifty, I am sure to suffer a -double endammagement thereby.</p> - -<p>You may well imagine, that <i>Aniolliero</i> was now enraged beyond -all patience, to see himselfe both robde of his money, and overborne -with presumptuous language: wherefore, without making -any more replications, he gave the spurre to his horse, and rode away -towards <i>Torreniero</i>. Now fell <i>Fortarigo</i> into a more knavish -intention against <i>Aniolliero</i>, and being very speedy in running, followed -apace after him in his shirt, crying out still aloude to him all -the way, to let him have his Doublet againe. <i>Aniolliero</i> riding on -very fast, to free his eares from this idle importunity, it fortuned -that <i>Fortarigo</i> espied divers countrey Pezants, labouring in the fields -about their businesse, and by whom <i>Aniolliero</i> (of necessity) must -passe: To them he cryed out so loude as he could; Stay the Thiefe, -Stop the Thiefe, he rides away so fast, having robde me.</p> - -<p>They being provided, some with Prongges, Pitchforkes and -Spades, and others with the like weapons fit for Husbandry, stept -into the way before <i>Aniolliero</i>: and beleeving undoubtedly, that -he had robde the man which pursued him in his shirt, stayed and -apprehended him. Whatsoever <i>Aniolliero</i> could doe or say, prevailed -not any thing with the unmannerly Clownes, but when <i>Fortarigo</i> -was arrived among them, he braved <i>Aniolliero</i> most impudently, -saying.</p> - -<p>What reason have I to spoile thy life (thou traiterous Villaine) -to rob and spoyle thy Master thus on the high way? Then turning -to the Countrey Boores: How much deare friends (quoth he) am -I beholding to you for this unexpected kindnesse? You behold in -what manner he left me in my Lodging, having first playd away all -my money at the Dice, and then deceiving me of my horse and garments -also: but had not you (by great good lucke) thus holpe mee -to stay him; a poore Gentleman had bin undone for ever, and I -should never have found him againe.</p> - -<p><i>Aniolliero</i> avouched the truth of his wrong received, but the base -peazants, giving credite onely to <i>Fortarigoes</i> lying exclamations: -tooke him from his horse, despoyled him of all his wearing apparrell, -even to the very Bootes from off his Legges: suffered him to -ride away from him in that manner, and <i>Aniolliero</i> left so in his -shirt, to dance a bare-foote Galliard after him, either towards <i>Sienna</i>, -or any place else.</p> - -<p>Thus <i>Aniolliero</i>, purposing to visite his Cousin the Cardinal like -a Gallant, and at the Marquisate of <i>Ancona</i>, returned backe poorly -in his shirt unto <i>Buonconvento</i>, and durst not (for shame) repaire to -<i>Sienna</i>. In the end, he borrowed money on the other horse which -<i>Fortarigo</i> rode on, and remained there in the Inne, whence riding -to <i>Corsignano</i>, where he had divers Kinsmen and Friends, he continued -there so long with them, till he was better furnished from his -Father.</p> - -<p>Thus you may perceive, that the cunning Villanies of <i>Fortarigo</i>, -hindred the honest intended enterprise of <i>Aniolliero</i>, howbeit in fit -time and place, nothing afterward was left unpunished.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Calandrino_became_extraordinarily_enamoured_of_a_young_Damosell" id="Calandrino_became_extraordinarily_enamoured_of_a_young_Damosell">Calandrino <i>became extraordinarily enamoured of a young Damosell, -named</i> Nicholetta. Bruno <i>prepared a Charme or writing for him, -avouching constantly to him, that so soone as he touched the Damosell -therewith, she should follow him whithersoever hee would have -her. She being gone to an appointed place with him, hee was found -there by his wife, and dealt withall according to his deserving.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The fift Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>In just reprehension of those vaine-headed fooles, that are led and governed -by idle perswasions.</i></h4> - - -<p>Because the Novell reported by Madame <i>Neiphila</i> was so -soone concluded, without much laughter, or commendation -of the whole Company: the Queene turned hir selfe -towards Madam <i>Fiammetta</i>, enjoyning her to succeed in apt order; -& she being as ready as sodainly commanded, began as followeth. -Most gentle Ladies, I am perswaded of your opinion in judgement -with mine, that there is not any thing, which can bee spoken pleasingly, -except it be conveniently suited with apt time and place: in -which respect, when Ladies and Gentlewomen are bent to discoursing, -the due election of them both are necessarily required. And -therefore I am not unmindfull, that our meeting heere (ayming at -nothing more, then to out-weare the time with our generall contentment) -should tye us to the course of our pleasure and recreation, -to the same conveniency of time and place, not sparing, though -some have bin nominated oftentimes in our passed arguments; yet, -if occasion serve, and the nature of variety be well considered, wee -may speake of the selfsame persons againe.</p> - -<p>Now, notwithstanding the actions of <i>Calandrino</i> have been indifferently -canvazed among us; yet, remembring what <i>Philostratus</i> -not long since saide, That they intended to nothing more then matter -of mirth: I presume the boldlier, to report another Novell of -him, beside them already past. And, were I willing to conceale the -truth, and cloath it in more circumstantiall manner: I could make use -of contrary names, and paint it in a poeticall fiction, perhaps more -probable, though not so pleasing. But because wandring from the -truth of things, doth much diminish (in relation) the delight of the -hearers: I will build boldly on my fore-alledged reason, and tel you -truly how it hapned.</p> - -<p><i>Niccholao Cornocchini</i> was once a Citizen of ours, and a man of -great wealth; who, among other his rich possessions in <i>Camerata</i>, -builded there a very goodly house, which being perfected ready for -painting: he compounded with <i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i>, who because -their worke required more helpe then their owne, they drew <i>Nello</i> -and <i>Calandrino</i> into their association, and began to proceed in their -businesse. And because there was a Chamber or two, having olde -moveables in them, as Bedding, Tables, and other Houshold stuffe -beside, which were in the custody of an old Woman that kepte the -house, without the helpe of any other servants else, a Son unto the -saide <i>Niccholao</i>, beeing named <i>Phillippo</i>, resorted thither divers -times, with one or other pretty Damosell in his company (in regard -he was unmarried) where he would abide a day or two with her, & -then convey her home againe.</p> - -<p>At one time among the rest, it chanced that he brought a Damosell -thither named <i>Nicholetta</i>, who was maintained by a wily companion, -called <i>Magione</i>, in a dwelling which hee had at <i>Camaldoli</i>, -and (indeed) no honester then she should be. She was a very beautifull -young woman, wearing garments of great value, and (according -to her quality) well spoken, and of commendable carriage. -Comming forth of her Chamber one day, covered with a White -veyle, because her haire hung loose about her, which shee went to -wash at a Well in the middle Court, bathing there also her face and -hands: <i>Calandrino</i> going (by chance) to the same Well for water, -gave her a secret salutation. She kindly returning the like courtesie -to him, began to observe him advisedly: more, because he looked -like a man newly come thither, then any handsomnesse she perceyved -in him.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> threw wanton glances at her, and seeing she was both -faire and lovely, began to finde some occasion of tarrying, so that -he returned not with water to his other associates, yet neither knowing -her, or daring to deliver one word. She, who was not to learn -her lesson in alluring, noting what affectionate regards (with bashfulnesse) -he gave her: answered him more boldly with the like; but -meerly in scorning manner, breathing forth divers dissembled sighs -among them: so that <i>Calandrino</i> became foolishly inveigled with -her love, and would not depart out of the Court, untill <i>Phillippo</i>, -standing above in his Chamber window called her thence.</p> - -<p>When <i>Calandrino</i> was returned backe to his businesse, he could -do nothing else, but shake the head, sigh, puffe, and blowe, which -being observed by <i>Bruno</i> (who alwayes fitted him according to his -folly, as making a meer mockery of his very best behaviour) sodainly -he said. Why how now <i>Calandrino</i>? Sigh, puff, and blow man? -What may be the reason of these unwonted qualities? <i>Calandrino</i> -immediately answered, saying: My friendly Companion <i>Bruno</i>, if -I had one to lend me a little helpe, I should very quickely become -well enough. How? quoth <i>Bruno</i>, doth any thing offend thee, and -wilt thou not reveale it to thy friends? Deare <i>Bruno</i>, said <i>Calandrino</i>, -there is a proper handsome woman here in the house, the goodliest -creature that every any eye beheld, much fairer then the Queen -of Fairies her selfe, who is so deeply falne in love with mee, as thou -wouldst thinke it no lesse then a wonder; and yet I never sawe her -before, till yet while when I was sent to fetch water. A very strange -case, answered <i>Bruno</i>, take heede <i>Calandrino</i>, that shee bee not the -lovely friend to <i>Phillippo</i>, our young Master, for then it may prove a -dangerous matter.</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> stood scratching his head an indifferent while, and -then sodainly replyed thus. Now trust me <i>Bruno</i>, it is to bee doubted, -because he called her at his Window, and she immediately went -up to his Chamber. But what doe I care if it be so? Have not the -Gods themselves bene beguiled of their Wenches, who were better -men then ever <i>Phillippo</i> can be, and shall I stand in feare of him? -<i>Bruno</i> replied: Be patient <i>Calandrino</i>, I will enquire what Woman -she is, and if she be not the wife or friend to our young master <i>Phillippo</i>, -with faire perswasions I can over-rule the matter, because shee -is a familiar acquaintance of mine. But how shall wee doe, that -<i>Buffalmaco</i> may not know heereof? I can never speake to her, if hee -be in my company. For <i>Buffalmaco</i> (quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) I have no -feare of all, but rather of <i>Nello</i>, because he is a neer Kinsman to my -wife, and he is able to undo me quite, if once it should come to his -hearing. Thou saist well, replyed <i>Bruno</i>, therefore the matter hath -neede to be very cleanly carried.</p> - -<p>Now let me tell you, the Woman was well enough knowne to -<i>Bruno</i>, as also her quality of life, which <i>Phillippo</i> had acquainted -him withall, and the reason of her resorting thither. Wherefore, -<i>Calandrino</i> going forth of the roome where they wrought, onely to -gaine another sight of <i>Nicholetta, Bruno</i> revealed the whole history -to <i>Buffalmaco</i> and <i>Nello</i>; they all concluding together, how this amorous -fit of the foole was to be followed. And when <i>Calandrino</i> -was returned backe againe; in whispering manner <i>Bruno</i> said to him. -Hast thou once more seene her? Yes, yes <i>Bruno</i>, answered <i>Calandrino</i>: -Alas, she hath slaine me with her very eye, and I am no better -then a dead man. Be patient said <i>Bruno</i>, I will goe and see whether -she be the same woman which I take her for, or no: and if it prove -so, then never feare, but refer the businesse unto me.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i> descending downe the staires, found <i>Phillippo</i> and <i>Nicholetta</i> -in conference together, and stepping unto them, discoursed at -large, what manner of man <i>Calandrino</i> was, and how farre he was -falne in love with her: so that they made a merry conclusion, what -should be performed in this case, onely to make a pastime of his hot -begun love. And being come backe againe to <i>Calandrino</i>, he saide. -It is the same woman whereof I told thee, and therefore wee must -worke wisely in the businesse: for if <i>Phillippo</i> perceive any thing, all -the water in <i>Arno</i> will hardly serve to quench his fury. But what -wouldst thou have me say to her on thy behalfe, if I compasse the -meanes to speake with her? First of all (quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) and in -the prime place, tell her, that I wish infinite bushels of those blessings, -which makes Maides Mothers, and begetteth children. Next, -that I am onely hers, in any service she wil command me. Dooest -thou understand me what I say? Sufficiently answered <i>Bruno</i>, leave -all to me.</p> - -<p>When supper time was come, that they gave over working, and -were descended downe into the Court: there they found <i>Phillippo</i> -and <i>Nicholetta</i> readily attending to expect some beginning of amorous -behaviour, and <i>Calandrino</i> glanced such leering lookes at her, -coughing and spetting with hummes and haes, yea in such close and -secret manner, that a starke blinde sight might verie easily have perceyved -it.</p> - -<p>She also on the other side, returned him such queint and cunning -carriage, as enflamed him farre more furiously, even as if hee -were ready to leape out of himselfe. In the meane while, <i>Phillippo, -Buffalmaco</i> and the rest that were there present, seeming as if they -were seriouslie consulting together, and perceived nothing of his -fantastick behaviour, according as <i>Bruno</i> had appointed, could scarse -refraine from extremity of laughter, they noted such antick trickes -in <i>Calandrino</i>.</p> - -<p>Having spent an indifferent space in this foppish folly, the houre -of parting came, but not without wonderful affliction to <i>Calandrino</i>; -and as they were going towards <i>Florence, Bruno</i> saide closely to -<i>Calandrino</i>. I dare assure thee, that thou hast made her to consume -and melt, even like ice against the warme Sunne. On my word, if -thou wouldst bring thy Gitterne, and sit downe by us, singing some -few amorous songs of thine owne making, when we are beneath about -our businesse in the Court: shee would presently leape out of -the Window, as being unable to tarry from thee.</p> - -<p>I like thy counsell well <i>Bruno</i>, answered <i>Calandrino</i>; but shall I -bring my Gitterne thither indeed? Yes, in any case, replied <i>Bruno</i>, -for Musicke is a matter of mighty prevailing. Ah <i>Bruno</i> (quoth <i>Calandrino</i>) -thou wouldst not credit me in the morning, when I tolde -thee, how the very sight of my person had wounded her: I perceived -it at the very first looke of her owne, for shee had no power to -conceale it. Who but my selfe could so soone have enflamed her -affection, and being a woman of such worth and beauty as shee is? -There are infinite proper handsome fellowes, that daily haunt the -company of dainty Damosels, yet are so shallow in the affayres of -love, as they are not able to win one wench of a thousand, no, not -with all the wit they have, such is their extreame follie and ill fortune.</p> - -<p>Then pausing a while, and sodainely rapping out a Lovers Oath -or two, thus he proceeded. My dearest <i>Bruno</i>, thou shalt see how I -can tickle my Gitterne, and what good sport will ensue thereon. If -thou dost observe me with judgement, why man, I am not so old as -I seeme to be, and she could perceive it at the very first view; yea, -and she shall finde it so too, when we have leysure to consult upon -further occasions: I finde my selfe in such a free and frolicke jocunditie -of spirit, that I will make her to follow me, even as a fond woman -doth after her child.</p> - -<p>But beware, saide <i>Bruno</i>, that thou do not gripe her over-hard, -and in kissing, bee carefull of biting, because the teeth stand in thy -head like the pegges of a Lute, yet make a comely shew in thy faire -wide mouth, thy cheekes looking like two of our artificiall Roses, -swelling amiably, when thy jawes are well fild with meat. <i>Calandrino</i> -hearing these hansome commendations, thought himselfe a man -of action already, going, singing, and frisking before his companie -so lively, as if he had not bin in his skin.</p> - -<p>On the morrow, carrying his Gitterne thither with him, to the no -little delight of his companions, hee both played and sung a whole -Bed-role of Songs, not addicting himselfe to any worke all the day: -but loitering fantastically, one while he gazed out at the window, -then ran to the gate, and oftentimes downe into the Court, onely -to have a sight of his Mistresse. She also (as cunningly) encountred -all his follies, by such directions as <i>Bruno</i> gave her, and many more -beside of her owne devising, to quicken him still with new occasions; -<i>Bruno</i> plaid the Ambassador betweene them, in delivering the -messages from <i>Calandrino</i>, and then returning her answers to him. -Sometimes when she was absent thence (which often hapned as occasions -called her) then he would write letters in her name, & bring -them, as if they were sent by her, to give him hope of what hee desired, -but because she was then among her kindred, yet she could not -be unmindfull of him.</p> - -<p>In this manner, <i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i> (who had the managing of -this amorous businesse) made a meere Gregory of poore <i>Calandrino</i>, -causing him somtimes to send her, one while a pretty peece of -Ivory, then a faire wrought purse, and a costly paire of knives, with -other such like friendly tokens: bringing him backe againe, as in requitall -of them, counterfetted Rings of no valew, Bugles and bables, -which he esteemed as matters of great moment. Moreover, at divers -close and sodain meetings, they made him pay for many dinners & -suppers, amounting to indifferent charges, onely to be carefull in the -furtherance of his love-suit, and to conceale it from his wife.</p> - -<p>Having worne out three or foure months space in this fond and -frivolous manner, without any other successe then as hath bene declared; -and <i>Calandrino</i> perceiving, that the works undertaken by -him and his fellowes, grew very neere uppon the finishing, which -would barre him of any longer resorting thither: hee began to solicite -<i>Bruno</i> more importunately, then all the while before he hadde -done. In regard whereof, <i>Nicholetta</i> being one day come thither, & -<i>Bruno</i> having conferred both with her and <i>Phillippo</i>, with full determination -what was to be done, he began with <i>Calandrino</i>, saying. -My honest Neighbour and Friend, this Woman hath made a thousand -promises, to graunt what thou art so desirous to have, and I -plainly perceive that she hath no such meaning, but meerely plaies -with both our noses. In which respect, seeing she is so perfidious, -and will not perfourme one of all her faithfull-made promises: if -thou wilt content to have it so, she shall be compelled to do it whether -she will or no. Yea marry <i>Bruno</i>, answered <i>Calandrino</i>, that -were an excellent course indeede, if it could be done, and with expedition.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i> stood musing awhile to himselfe, as if he had some strange -stratagem in his braine, & afterward said. Hast thou so much corage -<i>Calandrino</i>, as but to handle a peece of written parchment, which I -will give thee? Yes, that I have answered <i>Calandrino</i>, I hope that -needed not to be doubted. Well then, saide <i>Bruno</i>, procure that I -may have a piece of Virgin Parchment brought mee, with a living -Bat or Reremouse; three graines of Incense, and an hallowed Candle, -then leave me to effect what shal content thee. <i>Calandrino</i> watched -all the next night following, with such preparation as he could -make, onely to catch a Bat; which being taken at the last, he broght -it alive to <i>Bruno</i> (with all the other materials appointed) who taking -him alone into a backer Chamber, there hee wrote divers follies -on the Parchment, in the shape of strange and unusuall Charracters, -which he delivered to <i>Calandrino</i>, saying: Be bold <i>Calandrino</i>, -and build constantly uppon my wordes, that if thou canst but -touch her with this sacred Charractred charme, she will immediately -follow thee, and fulfill whatsoever thou pleasest to command hir. -Wherefore, if <i>Phillippo</i> do this day walke any whither abroad from -this house, presume to salute her, in any manner whatsoever it be, & -touching her with the written lines, go presently to the barn of hay, -which thou perceivest so neere adjoyning, the onely convenient -place that can be, because few or none resort thither. She shall (in -despight of her blood) follow thee; and when thou hast her there, -I leave thee then to thy valiant victory. <i>Calandrino</i> stood on tiptoe, -like a man newly molded by Fortune, and warranted <i>Bruno</i> to fulfill -all effectually.</p> - -<p><i>Nello</i>, whom <i>Calandrino</i> most of all feared and mistrusted, had a -hand as deepe as any of the rest in this deceite, and was as forward -also to have it performed, by <i>Brunoes</i> direction, hee went unto <i>Florence</i>, -where being in company with <i>Calandrinoes</i> Wife, thus hee -began.</p> - -<p>Cousine, thine unkinde usage by thine husband, is not unknown -to me, how he did beate thee (beyond the compasse of all reason) -when he brought home stones from the plain of <i>Mugnone</i>; in which -regard, I am very desirous to have thee revenged on him: which if -thou wilt not do; never repute me heereafter for thy Kinsman and -Friend. He is falne in love with a Woman of the common gender, -one that is to be hired for money: he hath his private meetings with -her, and the place is partly knowne to me, as by a secret appointment -(made very lately) I am credibly given to understand; wherefore -walke presently along with me, and thou shalt take him in the -heat of his knavery.</p> - -<p>All the while as these words were uttering to her, shee could not -dissemble her inward impatience, but starting up as halfe franticke -with fury, she said. O notorious villaine! Darest thou abuse thine -honest wife so basely? I sweare by blessed Saint <i>Bridget</i>, thou shalt -be paid with coyne of thine owne stampe. So casting a light wearing -Cloake about her, and taking a young woman in her company; -shee went away with <i>Nello</i> in no meane haste. <i>Bruno</i> seeing her -comming a farre off, said to <i>Phillippo</i>: You Sir, you know what is -to be done, act your part according to your appointment. <i>Phillippo</i> -went immediately into the roome, where <i>Calandrino</i> and his other -Consorts were at worke, and said to them. Honest friends, I have -certaine occasions which command mine instant being at <i>Florence</i>: -worke hard while I am absent, and I will not be unthankefull for it. -Away hee departed from them, and hid himselfe in a convenient -place, where he could not be descryed, yet see whatsoever <i>Calandrino</i> -did: who when he imagined <i>Phillippo</i> to be farre enough off, -descended downe into the Court, where he found <i>Nicholetta</i> sitting -alone, and going towards her, began to enter into discoursing -with her.</p> - -<p>She knowing what remained to bee done on her behalfe, drew -somewhat neere him, and shewed her selfe more familiar then formerly -she had done: by which favourable meanes, he touched her -with the charmed Parchment, which was no sooner done; but without -using any other kinde of language, hee went to the hay-Barne, -whither <i>Nicholetta</i> followed him, and both being entred, he closed -the Barne doore, and then stood gazing on her, as if hee had never -seene her before. Standing stil as in a study, or bethinking himselfe -what he should say: she began to use affable gesture to him, and taking -him by the hand, made shew as if shee meant to kisse him, -which yet she refrained, though he (rather then his life) would gladly -have had it. Why how now deare <i>Calandrino</i> (quoth she) jewell -of my joy, comfort of my heart, how many times have I longed -for thy sweet Company? And enjoying it now, according to mine -owne desire, dost thou stand like a Statue, or man <i>alla morte</i>? The -rare tunes of the Gitterne, but (much more) the melodious accents -of thy voyce, excelling <i>Orpheus</i> or <i>Amphion</i>, so ravished my soule, -as I know not how to expresse the depth of mine affection; and yet -hast thou brought me hither, onely to looke babies in mine eyes, -and not so much as speake one kinde word to me?</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i>, having hid themselves close behinde <i>Phillippo</i>, -they both heard and saw all this amourous conflict, and as -<i>Calandrino</i> was quickning his courage, and wiping his mouth, with -intent to kisse her: his wife and <i>Nello</i> entred into the Barne, which -caused <i>Nicholetta</i> to get her gone presently, sheltring her self where -<i>Phillippo</i> lay scouting. But the enraged woman ranne furiously -upon poore daunted <i>Calandrino</i>, making such a pitifull massacre -with her nailes, and tearing the haire from his head, as hee -meerely looked like an infected Anatomy. Fowle loathsome dog -(quoth she) must you be at your minions, and leave mee hunger-starved -at home? An olde knave with (almost) never a good tooth -in thy head, and yet art thou neighing after young wenches? hast -thou not worke enough at home, but must bee gadding in to other -mens grounds? Are these the fruites of wandring abroad?</p> - -<p><i>Calandrino</i> being in this pittifull perplexity, stood like one neither -alive nor dead, nor daring to use any resistance against her; but -fell on his knees before his Wife, holding up his hands for mercy, -and entreating her (for charities sake) not to torment him any more: -for he had committed no harme at all, and the Gentlewoman was -his Masters Wife, who came with no such intent thither, as shee -fondly imagined. Wife, or wife not (quoth she) I would have none -to meddle with my Husband, but I that have the most right to -him.</p> - -<p><i>Bruno</i> and <i>Buffalmaco</i>, who had laughed all this while heartily at -this pastime, with <i>Phillippo</i> and <i>Nicholetta</i>; came running in haste -to know the reason of this loude noise, and after they had pacified -the woman with gentle perswasions: they advised <i>Calandrino</i> to -walke with his Wife to <i>Florence</i>, and returne no more to worke -there againe, least <i>Phillippo</i> hearing what had hapned, should be revenged -on him with some outrage. Thus poore <i>Calandrino</i> miserably -misused and beaten, went home to <i>Florence</i> with his Wife, -scoulded and raild at all the way, beside his other mollestations (day -and night) afterward: his Companions, <i>Phillippo</i> and <i>Nicholetta</i>, -making themselves merry at his mis-fortune.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Two_young_Gentlemen_the_one_named_Panuccio_and_the_other_Adriano" id="Two_young_Gentlemen_the_one_named_Panuccio_and_the_other_Adriano"><i>Two young Gentlemen, the one named</i> Panuccio, <i>and the other</i> Adriano, -<i>lodged one night in a poore Inne, where one of them went to bed -to the Hostes Daughter, and the other (by mistaking his way in the -darke) to the Hostes wife. He which lay with the daughter, happened -afterward to the Hostes bed, and told him what he had done, as -thinking he spake to his owne companyon. Discontentment growing -betweene them, the Mother perceiving her error, went to bed -to her daughter, and with discreete language, made a generall pacification.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Sixt Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is manifested, that an offence committed ignorantly, and by -mistaking; ought to be covered with good advise, and civill discretion.</i></h4> - - -<p><i>Calandrino</i>, whose mishaps had so many times made the -whole assembly merry, and this last passing among them -with indifferent commendations: upon a generall silence -commanded, the Queene gave order to <i>Pamphilus</i>, that hee should -follow next, as indeed he did, beginning thus. Praise-worthy Ladies, -the name of <i>Nicholetta</i>, so fondly affected by <i>Calandrino</i>, putteth -mee in minde of a Novell, concerning another <i>Nicholetta</i>, -of whom I purpose to speake: to the ende you may observe -how by a sudden wary fore-sight, a discreet woman compassed the -meanes to avoyde a notorious scandall.</p> - -<p>On the plaine of <i>Mugnone</i>, neere to <i>Florence</i>, dwelt (not long -since) an honest meane man, who kept a poore Inne or Ostery for -travellers, where they might have some slender entertainement for -their money. As he was but a poore man, so his house affoorded -but very small receit of guests, not lodging any but on necessity, -and such as he had some knowledge of. This honest poore hoste -had a woman (sufficiently faire) to his wife, by whom hee had also -two children, the one a comely young maiden, aged about fifteene -yeares, and the other a sonne, not fully (as yet) a yeare old, and sucking -on the mothers brest.</p> - -<p>A comely youthfull Gentleman of our City, became amorously -affected to the Damosell, resorting thither divers times as hee travelled -on the way, to expresse how much he did respect her. And -she accounting her fortune none of the meanest, to bee beloved by -so youthfull a Gallant, declared such vertuous and modest demeanour, -as might deserve his best opinion of her: so that their love -grew to an equall simpathy, and mutuall contentment of them -both, in expectation of further effects; he being named <i>Panuccio</i>, -and she <i>Nicholetta</i>.</p> - -<p>The heate of affection thus encreasing day by day, <i>Panuccio</i> -grew exceedingly desirous to enjoy the fruits of his long continued -liking, and divers devises mustred in his braine, how he might compasse -one nights lodging in her fathers house, whereof hee knew every -part and parcell, as not doubting to effect what hee desired, -yet undiscovered by any, but the maide her selfe.</p> - -<p>According as his intention aymed, so he longed to put it in execution, -and having imparted his mind to an honest loyall friend, -named <i>Adriano</i>, who was acquainted with the course of his love: -hyring two horses, and having Portmantues behind them, filled -with matters of no moment, they departed from <i>Florence</i>, as if they -had some great journey to ride. Having spent the day time where -themselves best pleased, darke night being entred, they arrived on -the plaine of <i>Mugnone</i>, where, as if they were come from the parts -of <i>Romanio</i>, they rode directly to this poore Inne, and knocking at -the doore, the honest Hoste (being familiar and friendly to all commers) -opened the doore, when <i>Panuccio</i> spake in this manner to -him. Good man, we must request one nights lodging with you, -for we thought to have reached so farre as <i>Florence</i>, but dark night -preventing us, you see at what a late houre wee are come hither. -Signior <i>Panuccio</i>, answered the hoste, it is not unknowne to you, -how unfiting my poore house is, for entertaining such guests as you -are: Neverthelesse, seeing you are overtaken by so unseasonable an -houre, and no other place is neere for your receite; I will gladly -lodge you so well as I can.</p> - -<p>When they were dismounted from their horses, and entred into -the simple Inne: having taken order for feeding their horses, they -accepted such provision, as the place and time afforded, requesting -the Hoste to suppe with them. Now I am to tell you, that there -was but one small Chamber in the house, wherein stood three beds, -as best the Hoste had devised to place them, two of them standing -by the walles side, and the third fronting them both, but with such -close and narrow passage, as very hardly could one step betweene -them. The best of these three beds was appointed for the Gentlemen, -and therein theyd lay them down to rest, but sleepe they could -not, albeit they dissembled it very formally. In the second Bed -was <i>Nicholetta</i> the daughter, lodged by her selfe, and the father and -mother in the third, and because she was to give the child sucke in -the night time, the Cradle (wherein it lay) stood close by their -beds side, because the childes crying or any other occasion concerning -it, should not disquiet the Gentlemen.</p> - -<p><i>Panuccio</i> having subtily observed all this, and in what manner -they went to bed; after such a space of time, as he imagined them -to be all fast asleepe, he arose very softly, and stealing to the bed of -<i>Nicholetta</i>, lay downe gently by her. And albeit she seemed somewhat -affraid at the first, yet when she perceived who it was, shee rather -bad him welcome, then shewed her selfe any way discontented. -Now while <i>Panuccio</i> continued thus with the maide, it fortuned -that a Cat threw down somewhat in the house, the noise whereof -awaked the wife, and fearing greater harme, then (indeed) had -hapned, she arose without a Candle, and went groping in the darke, -towards the place where shee heard the noyse. <i>Adriano</i>, who had -no other meaning but well, found occasion also to rise, about some -naturall necessity, and making his passage in the darke, stumbled on -the childes Cradle (in the way) where the woman had set it, and being -unable to passe by, without removing it from the place: tooke -and set it by his owne beds side, and having done the businesse for -which he rose, returned to his bed againe, never remembring to -set the Cradle where first he found it.</p> - -<p>The Wife having found the thing throwne downe being of no -value or moment, cared not for lighting any candle; but rating the -Cat, returned backe, feeling for the bed where her Husband lay, but -finding not the Cradle there, she said to her selfe. What a foolish -woman am I, that cannot well tell my selfe what I doe? Instead of -my Husbands bed, I am going to both my guests.</p> - -<p>So, stepping on a little further, she found the childes Cradle, and -laid her selfe downe by <i>Adriano</i>, thinking shee had gone right to -her Husband. <i>Adriano</i> being not yet falne asleepe, feeling the hostesse -in bed with him: tooke advantage of so faire an occasion offered, -and what he did, is no businesse of mine, (as I heard) neither -found the woman any fault. Matters comming to passe in this -strange manner, and <i>Panuccio</i> fearing, lest sleepe seazing on him, -he might disgrace the maides reputation: taking his kinde farewell -of her, with many kisses and sweet imbraces: returned againe -to his owne Bed, but meeting with the Cradle in his way, and thinking -it stood by the hostes Bed, (as truely it did so at the first) went -backe from the Cradle, and stept into the hostes Bed indeed, who -awaked upon his very entrance, albeit he slept very soundly before.</p> - -<p><i>Panuccio</i> supposing that he was laid downe by his loving friend -<i>Adriano</i>, merrily said to the Hoste. I protest to thee, as I am a Gentleman, -<i>Nicholetta</i> is a dainty delicate wench, and worthy to be a -very good mans wife: this night shee hath given mee the sweetest -entertainement, as the best Prince in the world can wish no better, -and I have kist her most kindly for it. The Hoste hearing these -newes, which seemed very unwelcome to him, said first to himself: -What make such a devill heere in my Bedde? Afterward being -more rashly angry, then well advised, hee said to <i>Panuccio</i>. Canst -thou makes vaunt of such a mounstrous villany? Or thinkest thou, -that heaven hath not due vengeance in store, to requite all wicked -deeds of darkenesse? If all should sleepe, yet I have courage sufficient -to right my wrong, and yet as olde as I am thou shalt be sure to -finde it.</p> - -<p>Our amorous <i>Panuccio</i> being none of the wisest young men -in the world, perceiving his error; sought not to amend it, (as well -he might have done) with some queint straine of wit, carried in -quicke and cleanly manner, but angerly answered. What shall I -find that thou darst doe to me? am I any way affraid of thy threatnings? -The Hostes imagining she was in bed with her Husband, -said to <i>Adriano</i>: Harke Husband, I thinke our Guests are quarrelling -together, I hope they will doe no harme to one another. <i>Adriano</i> -laughing outright, answered. Let them alone, and become -friends againe as they fell out: perhaps they dranke too much yesternight.</p> - -<p>The woman perceiving that it was her husband that quarrelled, -and distinguishing the voyce of <i>Adriano</i> from his: knew presently -where shee was, and with whom; wherefore having wit at will, -and desirous to cloude an error unadvisedly committed, and with -no willing consent of her selfe: without returning any more words, -presently she rose, and taking the Cradle with the child in it, removed -it thence to her daughters bed side, although shee had no -light to helpe her, and afterward went to bed to her, where (as if -she were but newly awaked) she called her Husband, to understand -what angry speeches had past betweene him and <i>Panuccio</i>. The -Hoste replyed, saying. Didst thou not heare him wife, brag & boast, -how he hath lyen this night with our daughter <i>Nicholetta</i>? Husband -(quoth she) he is no honest Gentleman; if hee should say so, -and beleeve me it is a manifest lye, for I am in bed with her my -selfe, and never yet closed mine eyes together, since the first houre I -laid me downe: it is unmannerly done of him to speake it, and you -are little lesse then a logger-head, if you doe beleeve it. This proceedeth -from your bibbing and swilling yesternight, which (as it -seemeth) maketh you to walke about the roome in your sleepe, -dreaming of wonders in the night season: it were no great sinne if -you brake your necks, to teach you keepe a fairer quarter; and how -commeth it to passe, that Signior <i>Panuccio</i> could not keepe himselfe -in his owne bed?</p> - -<p><i>Adriano</i> (on the other side) perceiving how wisely the woman -excused her owne shame and her daughters; to backe her in a businesse -so cunningly begun, he called to <i>Panuccio</i>, saying. Have not I -tolde thee an hundred times, that thou art not fit to lye any where; -out of thine owne lodging? What a shame is this base imperfection -to thee, by rising and walking thus in the night-time, according -as thy dreames doe wantonly delude thee, and cause thee to forsake -thy bed, telling nothing but lies and fables, yet avouching them for -manifest truthes? Assuredly this will procure no meane perill unto -thee: Come hither, and keepe in thine owne bedde for meere -shame.</p> - -<p>When the honest meaning Host heard, what his own Wife and -<i>Adriano</i> had confirmed: he was verily perswaded, that <i>Panuccio</i> -spake in a dreame all this while: And to make it the more constantly -apparant, <i>Panuccio</i> (being now growne wiser by others example) -lay talking and blundring to himselfe, even as if dreames or -perturbations of the minde did much molest him, with strange distractions -in franticke manner. Which the Hoste perceiving, and -compassionating his case, as one man should do anothers: he tooke -him by the shoulders, jogging and hunching him, saying. Awake -Signior <i>Panuccio</i>, and get you gone hence to your owne bed.</p> - -<p><i>Panuccio</i>, yawning and stretching out his limbes, with unusuall -groanes and respirations, such as (better) could bee hardly dissembled: -seemed to wake as out of a traunce, and calling his friend -<i>Adriano</i>, said.</p> - -<p><i>Adriano</i>, is it day, that thou dost waken me? It may be day or -night replyed <i>Adriano</i>, for both (in these fits) are alike to thee. Arise -man for shame, and come to thine lodging. Then faining to be -much troubled and sleepie, he arose from the hoast, and went to <i>Adrianoes</i> -bed.</p> - -<p>When it was day, and all in the house risen, the hoast began to -smile at <i>Panuccio</i>, mocking him with his idle dreaming and talking -in the night.</p> - -<p>So, falling from one merry matter to another, yet without any -mislike at all: the Gentlemen, having their horses prepared, and -their Portmantues fastened behind, drinking to their hoast, mounted -on horsebacke, and they roade away towards <i>Florence</i>, no lesse -contented with the manner of occasions happened, then the effects -they sorted to. Afterward, other courses were taken, for the continuance -of this begun pleasure with <i>Nicholetta</i>, who made her mother -beleeve, that <i>Panuccio</i> did nothing else but dreame. And the -mother her selfe remembring how kindely <i>Adriano</i> had used -her (a fortune not expected by her before:) was more then halfe -of the minde, that she did then dreame also, while she was waking.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Talano_de_Molese_dreamed_That_a_Wolfe_rent_and_tore_his_wives_face" id="Talano_de_Molese_dreamed_That_a_Wolfe_rent_and_tore_his_wives_face">Talano de Molese <i>dreamed, That a Wolfe rent and tore his wives face -and throate. Which dreame he told to her, with advise to keep her -selfe out of danger; which she refusing to doe, received what followed.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Seventh Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Whereby (with some indifferent reason) it is concluded, that Dreames -do not alwayes fall out to be leasings.</i></h4> - - -<p>By the conclusion of <i>Pamphilus</i> his Novel, wherein the womans -ready wit, at a time of such necessity, carried deserved -commendations: the Queen gave command to Madam -<i>Pampinea</i>, that she should next begin with hers, and so she did, -in this manner. In some discourses (gracious Ladies) already past -among us, the truth of apparitions in dreames hath partly bin approved, -whereof very many have made a mockery. Neverthelesse, -whatsoever hath heeretofore bin sayde, I purpose to acquaint you -with a very short Novell, of a strange accident happening unto a -neighbour of mine, in not crediting a Dreame which her Husband -told her.</p> - -<p>I cannot tell, whether you knew <i>Talano de Molese</i>, or no, a man -of much honour, who tooke to wife a young Gentlewoman, named -<i>Margarita</i>, as beautifull as the best: but yet so peevish, scornefull, -and fantasticall, that she disdained any good advice given her; neyther -could any thing be done, to cause her contentment; which absurd -humors were highly displeasing to her husband: but in regard -he knew not how to helpe it, constrainedly he did endure it. It came -to passe, that <i>Talano</i> being with his wife, at a summer-house of his -owne in the country, he dreamed one night, that he saw his Wife -walking in a faire wood, which adjoyned neere unto his house, and -while she thus continued there, he seemed to see issue foorth from a -corner of the said Wood, a great and furious Wolfe, which leaping -sodainly on her, caught her by the face and throate, drawing -her downe to the earth, and offering to drag her thence. But he crying -out for helpe, recovered her from the Wolfe, yet having her -face and throat very pitifully rent and torne.</p> - -<p>In regard of this terrifying dreame, when <i>Talano</i> was risen in the -morning, and sate conversing with his wife, he spake thus unto hir. -Woman, although thy froward wilfull Nature be such, as hath not -permitted me one pleasing day with thee, since first we becam man -and wife, but rather my life hath bene most tedious to me, as fearing -still some mischeefe should happen to thee: yet let mee now in loving -manner advise thee, to follow my counsell, and (this day) not -to walke abroad out of this house. She demanded a reason for this -advice of his. He related to her every particular of his dreame, adding -with all these speeches.</p> - -<p>True it is Wife (quoth he) that little credit should bee given to -dreames: neverthelesse, when they deliver advertisement of harmes -to ensue, there is nothing lost by shunning and avoiding them. She -fleering in his face, and shaking her head at him, replyed. Such -harmes as thou wishest, such thou dreamest of. Thou pretendest -much pittie and care of me, but all to no other end: but what mischeefes -thou dreamest happening unto mee, so wouldest thou see -them effected on me. Wherefore, I will well enough looke to my -selfe, both this day, and at all times else: because thou shalt never -make thy selfe merry, with any such misfortune as thou wishest unto -me.</p> - -<p>Well Wife, answered <i>Talano</i>, I knew well enough before, what -thou wouldst say: An unsound head is soone scratcht with the very -gentlest Combe: but beleeve as thou pleasest. As for my selfe, I -speake with a true and honest meaning soule, and once againe I do -advise thee, to keepe within our doores all this day: at least wife beware, -that thou walke not into our wood, bee it but in regard of my -dreame. Well sir (quoth she scoffingly) once you shall say, I followed -your counsell: but within her selfe she fell to this murmuring. -Now I perceive my husbands cunning colouring, & why I must not -walke this day into our wood: he hath made a compact with some -common Queane, closely to have her company there, and is affraide -least I shold take them tardy. Belike he would have me feed among -blinde folke, and I were worthy to bee thought a starke foole, if I -should not prevent a manifest trechery, being intended against me. -Go thither therefore I will, and tarry there all the whole day long; -but I will meet with him in his merchandize, and see the Pink wherein -he adventures.</p> - -<p>After this her secret consultation, her husband was no sooner -gone forth at one doore, but shee did the like at another, yet so secretly -as possibly she could devise to doe, and (without any delaying) -she went to the Wood, wherein she hid her selfe very closely, -among the thickest of the bushes, yet could discerne every way about -her, if any body should offer to passe by her. While shee kept -her selfe in this concealment, suspecting other mysterious matters, -as her idle imagination had tutord her, rather then the danger of any -Wolfe; out of a brakie thicket by her, sodainly rushed a huge & -dreadfull Wolfe, as having found her by the sent, mounting uppe, -and grasping her throat in his mouth, before she saw him, or could -call to heaven for mercy.</p> - -<p>Being thus seised of her, he carried her as lightly away, as if shee -had bin no heavier then a Lambe, she being (by no meanes) able to -cry, because he held her so fast by the throate, and hindred any helping -of her selfe. As the Wolfe carried her thus from thence, he had -quite strangled her, if certaine Shepheards had not met him, who -with their outcries and exclaimes at the Wolfe, caused him to let -her fall, and hast away to save his owne life. Notwithstanding the -harme done to her throat and face, the shepheards knew her, and -caried her home to her house, where she remained a long while after, -carefully attended by Physitians and Chirurgians.</p> - -<p>Now, although they were very expert and cunning men all, yet -could they not so perfectly cure her, but both her throate, and part -of her face were so blemished, that whereas she seemed a rare creature -before, she was now deformed and much unsightly. In regard -of which strange alteration, being ashamed to shew her selfe in any -place, where formerly she had bene seene: she spent her time in sorrow -and mourning, repenting her insolent and scornfull carriage, as -also her rash running forth into danger, upon a foolish and jealous -surmise, beleeving her husbands dreames the better for ever after.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Blondello_in_a_merry_manner_caused_Guiotto_to_beguile_himselfe_of" id="Blondello_in_a_merry_manner_caused_Guiotto_to_beguile_himselfe_of">Blondello <i>(in a merry manner) caused</i> Guiotto <i>to beguile himselfe of -a good dinner: for which deceit,</i> Guiotto <i>became cunningly revenged, -by procuring</i> Blondello <i>to be unreasonably beaten and misused.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Eight Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Whereby plainly appeareth, that they which take delight in deceiving -others, do well deserve to be deceived themselves.</i></h4> - - -<p>It was a generall opinion in the whole Joviall Companie, -that whatsoever <i>Talano</i> saw in his sleepe, was not anie -dreame, but rather a vision: considring, every part thereof -fell out so directly, without the lest failing. But when silence was -enjoyned, then the Queene gave forth by evident demonstration, -that Madam <i>Lauretta</i> was next to succeed, whereupon she thus began. -As all they (judicious hearers) which have this day spoken before -me, derived the ground or project of their Novels, from some -other argument spoken of before: even so, the cruell revenge of -the Scholler, yesterday discoursed at large by Madame <i>Pampinea</i>, -maketh me to remember another Tale of like nature, some-what -greevous to the sufferer, yet not in such cruell measure inflicted, as -that on Madam <i>Helena</i>.</p> - -<p>There dwelt sometime in <i>Florence</i>, one who was generally called -by the name of <i>Guiotto</i>, a man being the greatest Gourmand, and -grossest feeder, as ever was seene in any Countrey, all his meanes & -procurements meerly unable to maintaine expences for filling his -belly. But otherwise he was of sufficient and commendable carriage, -fairely demeaned, and well discoursing on any argument: yet, -not as a curious and spruce Courtier, but rather a frequenter of -rich mens Tables, where choice of good cheere is sildome wanting, -& such should have his company, albeit not invited, yet (like a bold -intruder) he had the courage to bid himselfe welcome.</p> - -<p>At the same time, and in our City of <i>Florence</i> also, there was another -man, named <i>Blondello</i>, very low of stature; yet comely formed, -quicke witted, more neat and brisk then a Butter flye, alwaies wearing -a wrought silke cap on his head, and not a haire staring out of -order, but the tuft flourishing above the forehead, and he such another -trencher-fly for the table, as our forenamed <i>Guiotto</i> was. It so -fel out on a morning in the Lent time, that hee went into the Fish-market, -where he bought two goodly Lampreyes, for <i>Messer Viero -de Cherchi</i>, and was espied by <i>Guiotto</i>, who (comming to <i>Blondello</i>) -said. What is the meaning of this cost, and for whom is it? Whereto -<i>Blondello</i> thus answered. Yesternight, three other Lampries, far -fairer and fatter then these, and a whole Sturgeon, were sent unto -<i>Messer Corso Donati</i>, and being not sufficient to feede divers Gentlemen, -whom hee hath invited this day to dine with him, hee caused -me to buy these two beside: Doest not thou intend to make one among -them? Yes I warrant thee, replied <i>Guiotto</i>, thou knowst I can -invite my selfe thither, without any other bidding.</p> - -<p>So parting; about the houre of dinner time, <i>Guiotto</i> went to the -house of the saide <i>Messer Corso</i>, whom he found sitting and talking -with certain of his neighbours, but dinner was not (as yet) ready, neither -were they come thither to dinner. <i>Messer Corso</i> demaunded of -<i>Guiotto</i>, what newes with him, and whither he went? Why Sir (said -<i>Guiotto</i>) I come to dine with you, and your good company. Whereto -<i>Messer Corso</i> answered, That he was welcome, & his other friends -being gone, dinner was served in, none else thereat present but <i>Messer -Corso</i> and <i>Guiotto</i>: al the diet being a poore dish of Pease, a little piece -of Tunny, & a few small dishes fried, without any other dishes to follow -after. <i>Guiotto</i> seeing no better fare, but being disapointed of his -expectation, as longing to feed on the Lampries and Sturgeon, and -so to have made a full dinner indeed: was of a quick apprehension, & -apparantly perceived, that <i>Blondello</i> had meerly guld him in a knavery, -which did not a little vex him, and made him vow to be revenged -on <i>Blondello</i>, as he could compasse occasion afterward.</p> - -<p>Before many daies were past, it was his fortune to meete with -<i>Blondello</i>, who having told this jest to divers of his friends, and much -good merriment made thereat: he saluted <i>Guiotto</i> in ceremonious -manner, saying. How didst thou like the fat Lampreyes and Sturgeon, -which thou fedst on at the house of <i>Messer Corso Donati</i>? Wel -Sir (answered <i>Guiotto</i>) perhaps before eight dayes passe over my -head, thou shalt meet with as pleasing a dinner as I did. So, parting -away from <i>Blondello</i>, he met with a Porter or burthen-bearer, such -as are usually sent on errands; and hyring him to deliver a message -for him, gave him a glasse bottle, and bringing him neere to the Hal-house -of <i>Cavicciuli</i>, shewed him there a knight, called <i>Signior Phillippo -Argenti</i>, a man of huge stature, stout, strong, vainglorious, fierce -and sooner mooved to anger then any other man. To him (quoth -<i>Guiotto</i>) thou must go with this bottle in thy hand, and say thus to -him. Sir, <i>Blondello</i> sent me to you, and courteously entreateth you, -that you would enrubinate this glasse bottle with your best Claret -Wine; because he would make merry with a few friends of his. But -beware he lay no hand on thee, because he may bee easily induced -to misuse thee, and so my businesse be disappointed. Well Sir replied -the Porter, shal I say any thing else unto him? No (quoth <i>Guiotto</i>) -only go and deliver this message, and when thou art returned, Ile -pay thee for thy paines.</p> - -<p>The Porter being gone to the house, delivered his message to the -knight, who being a man of no great civill breeding, but furious, -rash, and inconsiderate: presently conceived, that <i>Blondello</i> (whom -he knew well enough) sent this message in meere mockage of him, -and starting up with fiery lookes, said: What enrubination of Claret -should I send him? and what have I to do with him, or his drunken -friends? Let him and thee go hang your selves together. So he -stept to catch hold on the Porter, but he (being well warnd before) -was quicke and nimble, and escaping from him, returned backe to -<i>Guiotto</i> (who observed all) and told him the answer of Signior <i>Phillippo. -Guiotto</i> not a little contented, paied the Porter, and taried not -in any place til he met with <i>Blondello</i>, to whom he said. When wast -thou at the Hall of <i>Cavicciuli</i>? Not a long while, answerd <i>Blondello</i>, -but why dost thou demand such a question? Because (quoth <i>Guiotto</i>) -Signior <i>Phillippo</i> hath sought about for thee, yet knowe not I -what he would have with thee. Is it so? replied <i>Blondello</i>, then I wil -walke thither presently, to understand his pleasure.</p> - -<p>When <i>Blondello</i> was thus parted from him, <i>Guiotto</i> followed not -farre off behind him, to behold the issue of this angry businesse; and -Signior <i>Phillippo</i>, because he could not catch the Porter, continued -much distempred, fretting and fuming, in regard he could not comprehend -the meaning of the Porters message: but onely surmized, -that <i>Blondello</i> (by the procurement of some body else) had done this -in scorne of him. While he remained thus deeply discontented, he -espied <i>Blondello</i> comming towards him, and meeting him by the -way, he stept close to him, and gave him a cruell blow on the face, -causing his nose to fall out a bleeding. Alas Sir, said <i>Blondello</i>, wherefore -do you strike me? Signior <i>Phillippo</i>, catching him by the haire -of the head, trampled his wrought night-cap in the dirt, & his cloke -also; when, laying many violent blowes on him, he said. Villanous -Traitor as thou art, Ile teach thee what it is to enrubinate with Claret, -either thy selfe, or any of thy cupping companions: Am I a -child, to be jested withall?</p> - -<p>Nor was he more furious in words, then in strokes also, beating -him about the face, hardly leaving any haire on his head, and dragging -him along in the mire, spoyling all his garments, and he not able -(from the first blow given) to speake a word in defence of himselfe. -In the end, Signior <i>Phillippo</i> having extreamly beaten him, -and many people gathering about them, to succour a man so much -misused, the matter was at large related, and manner of the message -sending. For which, they all present, did greatly reprehend <i>Blondello</i>, -considering he knew what kinde of man <i>Phillippo</i> was, not any -way to be jested withall. <i>Blondello</i> in teares constantly maintained, -that he never sent any such message for wine, or intended it in the -least degree: so, when the tempest was more mildly calmed, and -<i>Blondello</i> (thus cruelly beaten and durtied) had gotten home to his -owne house, he could then remember, that (questionles) this was -occasioned by <i>Guiotto</i>.</p> - -<p>After some few dayes were passed over, and the hurts in his face -indifferently cured; <i>Blondello</i> beginning to walke abroade againe, -chanced to meet with <i>Guiotto</i>: who laughing heartily at him, sayde. -Tell me <i>Blondello</i>, how doost thou like the enrubinating Clarret of -Signior <i>Phillippo</i>? As well (quoth <i>Blondello</i>) as thou didst the Sturgeon -and Lampreyes at <i>Messer Corso Donaties</i>. Why then (sayde -<i>Guiotto</i>) let these two tokens continue familiar betweene thee and -me, when thou wouldst bestow such another dinner on mee, then -wil I enrubinate thy nose with a bottle of the same Claret. But <i>Blondello</i> -perceived (to his cost) that hee had met with the worser bargaine, -and <i>Guiotto</i> got cheare, without any blowes: and therefore -desired a peacefull attonement, each of them (alwayes after) abstaining -from flouting one another.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Two_young_Gentlemen_the_one_named_Melisso_borne_in_the_City_of_Laiazzo" id="Two_young_Gentlemen_the_one_named_Melisso_borne_in_the_City_of_Laiazzo"><i>Two young Gentlemen, the one named</i> Melisso, <i>borne in the City of</i> Laiazzo: -<i>and the other</i> Giosefo <i>of</i> Antioche, <i>travailed together unto</i> -Salomon, <i>the famous King of</i> Great Britaine. <i>The one desiring to -learne what he should do, whereby to compasse and winne the love of -men. The other craved to be enstructed, by what meanes hee might -reclaime an headstrong and unruly wife. And what answeres the -wise King gave unto them both, before they departed away from -him.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Ninth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Containing an excellent admonition, that such as covet to have the -love of other men, must first learne themselves, how to love: Also, by -what meanes such women as are curst and self-willed, may be reduced -to civill obedience.</i></h4> - - -<p>Upon the conclusion of Madame <i>Laurettaes</i> Novell, none -now remained to succeede next in order, but onely the -Queene her selfe, the priviledge reserved, granted to <i>Dioneus</i>; -wherefore, after they had all smiled at the folly of <i>Blondello</i>, -with a chearfull countenance thus the Queene began.</p> - -<p>Honourable Ladies, if with advised judgement, we do duly consider -the order of all things, we shall very easily perceyve, That the -whole universall multiplicitie of Women, by Nature, custome, and -lawes, are & ought to be subject to men, yea, and to be governd by -their discretion. Because every one desiring to enjoy peace, repose -and comfort with them, under whose charge they are; ought to be -humble, patient and obedient, over and beside her spotlesse honesty, -which is the crowne and honour of every good woman. And although -those lawes, which respect the common good of all things, -or rather use & custome (as our wonted saying is) the powers whereof -are very great, and worthy to be referenced, should not make us -wise in this case. Yet Nature hath given us a sufficient demonstration, -in creating our bodies more soft and delicate, yea, and our -hearts timorous, fearefull, benigne and compassionable, our strength -feeble, our voyces pleasing, and the motion of our members sweetly -plyant; all which are apparant testimonies, that wee have neede -of others government.</p> - -<p>Now, it is not to be denyed, that whosoever hath need of helpe, -and is to bee governed: meerely reason commandeth, that they -should bee subject and obedient to their governour. Who then -should we have for our helps and governours, if not men? Wherefore, -we should be intirely subject to them, in giving them due honour -and reverence, and such a one as shall depart from this rule: -she (in mine opinion) is not onely worthy of grievous reprehension, but -also severe chastisement beside. And to this exact consideration -(over and above divers other important reasons) I am -the rather induced, by the Novel which Madame <i>Pampinea</i> so lately -reported, concerning the froward and wilfull wife of <i>Talano</i>, -who had a heavier punishment inflicted on her, then her Husband -could devise to doe. And therefore it is my peremptory sentence, -that all such women as will not be gracious, benigne and pleasing: -doe justly deserve (as I have already said) rude, rough and harsh -handling, as both nature, custome and lawes have commanded.</p> - -<p>To make good what I have said, I wil declare unto you the counsell -& advise, given by <i>Salomon</i>, the wise and famous King of Great -Britaine, as a most wholesome and soveraigne medicine for the -cure of such a dangerous disease, in any woman so fouly infected. -Which counsel (notwithstanding) all such women as have no need -of this Phisicke, I would not have them to imagine, that it was -meant for them, albeit men have a common Proverbe, to wit.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">As the good horse and bad horse, doe both need the spurre.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So a good wife and bad wife, a wand will make stirre.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>Which saying, whosoever doth interpret it in such pleasing manner -as they ought, shal find it (as you al wil affirm no lesse) to be very -true: especially in the morall meaning, it is beyond all contradiction. -Women are naturally all unstable, and easily enclining to misgovernment; -wherefore to correct the iniquity of such a distemperature -in them that out-step the tearmes and bounds of womanhood, -a wand hath been allowed for especiall phisicke. As in the -like manner, for support of vertue, in those of contrary condition, -shaming to be sullyed with so grosse a sinne: the correcting Wand -may serve as a walking staffe, to protect them from all other feares. -But, forbearing to teach any longer; let mee proceed to my purpose, -and tell you my Novell.</p> - -<p>In those ancient and reverend dayes, whereof I am now to speake, -the high renowne and admirable wisedome of <i>Salomon</i>, King of -Great Brittain, was most famous throughout all parts of the world; -for answering all doubtfull questions and demaunds whatsoever, -that possibly could be propounded to him. So that many resorted -to him, from the most remote and furthest off countreyes, to heare -his miraculous knowledge and experience, yea, and to crave his -counsell, in matters of greatest importance. Among the rest of them -which repaired thither, was a rich young Gentleman, honourably -descended, named <i>Melisso</i>, who came from the City of <i>Laiazzo</i>, -where he was both borne, and dwelt.</p> - -<p>In his riding towards <i>France</i>, as he passed by <i>Naples</i>, hee overtooke -another young Gentleman, a native of <i>Antioch</i>, and named -<i>Giosefo</i>, whose journey lay the same way as the others did. Having -ridden in company some few dayes together, as it is a custome commonly -observed among Travellers, to understand one anothers -Countrey and condition, as also to what part his occasions call -him: so happened it with them, <i>Giosefo</i> directly telling him, that he -journeyed towards the wise King <i>Salomon</i>, to desire his advise what -meanes he should observe, in the reclaiming of a wilfull wife, the -most froward and selfe-willed woman that ever lived; whom neither -faire perswasions, nor gentle courtesies could in any manner -prevaile withall. Afterward he demaunded of <i>Melisso</i>, to know the -occasion of his travell, and whither.</p> - -<p>Now trust me Sir, answered <i>Melisso</i>, I am a native of <i>Laiazzo</i>, and -as you are vexed with one great misfortune, even so am I offended -with another. I am young, wealthy, well derived by birth, and allow -liberall expences, for maintaining a worthy table in my house, -without distinguishing persons by their rancke and quality, but -make it free for all commers, both of the city, & all places else. Notwithstanding -all which bounty and honourable entertainement, I -cannot meet with any man that loveth me. In which respect, I -journey to the same place as you doe, to crave the counsell of so -wise a King, what I should doe, whereby I might procure men to -love me. Thus like two well-met friendly companions, they rode -on together, untill they arrived in Great Britaine, where, by meanes -of the Noble Barons attending on the King; they were brought before -him. <i>Melisso</i> delivered his minde in very few words, whereto -the King made no other answere, but this: Learne to love. Which -was no sooner spoken, but <i>Melisso</i> was dismissed from the Kings -presence.</p> - -<p><i>Giosefo</i> also relating, wherefore he came thither; the King replyed -onely thus; Goe to the Goose Bridge: and presently <i>Giosefo</i> had -also his dismission from the King. Comming forth, he found <i>Melisso</i> -attending for him, and revealed in what manner the King had -answered him: whereupon, they consulted together, concerning -both their answeres, which seemed either to exceed their comprehension, -or else was delivered them in meere mockery, and therefore -(more then halfe discontented) they returned homeward againe.</p> - -<p>After they had ridden on a few dayes together, they came to a -River, over which was a goodly Bridge, and because a great company -of Horses and Mules (heavily laden, and after the manner of a -<i>Caravan</i> of Camels in <i>Egypt</i>) were first to passe over the saide -Bridge; they gladly stayed to permit their passe. The greater number -of them being already past over, there was one shie and skittish -Mule (belike subject to fearefull starting, as oftentimes we see horses -have the like ill quality) that would not passe over the Bridge by -any meanes, wherefore one of the Muletters tooke a good -Cudgell, and smote her at the first gently, as hoping so to procure -her passage. Notwithstanding, starting one while backeward, then -againe forward, side-wayes, and every way indeed, but the direct -Road way she would not goe.</p> - -<p>Now grew the Muletter extreamely angry, giving her many -cruell stroakes, on the head, sides, flancks and all parts else, but yet -they proved to no purpose, which <i>Melisso</i> and <i>Giosefo</i> seeing, and -being (by this meanes) hindred of their passage, they called to the -Muletter, saying. Foolish fellow, what doest thou? Intendest thou -to kill the Mule? why dost thou not leade her gently, which is the -likelier course to prevaile by, then beating and misusing her as thou -dost? Content your selves Gentlemen (answered the Muletter) you -know your horses qualities, as I doe my Mules, let mee deale with -her as I please. Having thus spoken, he gave her so many violent -strokes, on head, sides, hippes, and every where else, as made her at -last passe over the Bridge quietly, so that the Muletter wonne the -Mastery of his Mule.</p> - -<p>When <i>Melisso</i> and <i>Giosefo</i> had past over the Bridge, where they -intended to part each from other; a sudden motion happened into -the minde of <i>Melisso</i>, which caused him to demaund of an aged man -(who sate craving almes of Passengers at the Bridge foot) how the -Bridge was called: Sir, answered the old man, this is called, The -Goose Bridge. Which words when <i>Giosefo</i> heard, hee called to -minde the saying of King <i>Salomon</i>, and therefore immediately saide -to <i>Melisso</i>. Worthy friend, and partner in my travell, I dare now -assure you, that the counsell given me by King <i>Salomon</i>, may fall -out most effectuall and true: For I plainely perceive, that I knew -not how to handle my selfe-will'd-wife, untill the Muletter did instruct -me. So, requesting still to enjoy the others Company, they -journeyed on, till at the length they came to <i>Laiazzo</i>, where <i>Giosefo</i> -retained <i>Melisso</i> still with him, for some repose after so long a journey, -and entertained him with very honourable respect and courtesie.</p> - -<p>One day <i>Giosefo</i> said to his Wife: Woman, this Gentleman is -my intimate friend, and hath borne me company in all my travell: -such dyet therfore as thou wilt welcome him withall, I would have -it ordered (in dressing) according to his direction. <i>Melisso</i> perceiving -that <i>Giosefo</i> would needs have it to be so; in few words directed -her such a course, as (for ever) might be to her Husbands contentment. -But she, not altring a jote from her former disposition, -but rather farre more froward and tempestuous: delighted to vexe -and crosse him, doing every thing, quite contrary to the order appointed. -Which <i>Giosefo</i> observing, angerly he said unto her. Was -it not tolde you by my friend, in what manner he would have our -Supper drest? She turning fiercely to him, replyed. Am I to be directed -by him or thee? Supper must and shall bee drest as I will -have it: if it pleaseth mee, I care not who doth dislike it; if thou -wouldst have it otherwise, goe seeke both your Suppers where you -may have it.</p> - -<p><i>Melisso</i> marvelling at her froward answere, rebuked her for it in -very kind manner: whereupon, <i>Giosefo</i> spake thus to her. I perceive -wife, you are the same woman as you were wount to be: but -beleeve me on my word, I shal quite alter you from this curst complexion. -So turning to <i>Melisso</i>, thus he proceeded. Noble friend, -we shall try anone, whether the counsell of King <i>Salomon</i> bee effectuall, -or no; and I pray you, let it not be offensive to you to see it; -but rather hold all to be done in merriment. And because I would -not be hindered by you, doe but remember the answere which the -Muletter gave us, when we tooke compassion on his Mule. Worthy -friend, replyed <i>Melisso</i>, I am in your owne house, where I purpose -not to impeach whatsoever you doe.</p> - -<p><i>Giosefo</i>, having provided a good Holly-wand, went into the -Chamber, where his wife sate railing, and despitefully grumbling, -where taking her by the haire of her head, he threw her at his feete, -beating her entreamely with the wand. She crying, then cursing, -next railing, lastly fighting, biting and scratching, when she felt the -cruell smart of the blowes, and that all her resistance served to no -end: then she fell on her knees before him, and desired mercy for -charities sake. <i>Giosefo</i> fought still more and more on head, armes, -shoulders, sides, and all parts else, pretending as if he heard not her -complaints, but wearied himselfe wel neere out of breath: so that -(to be briefe) she that never felt his fingers before, perceived and -confessed, it was now too soone. This being done, hee returned to -<i>Melisso</i>, and said: To morrow we shall see a miracle, and how available -the councell is of going to the Goose Bridge. So sitting a -while together, after they had washed their hands, and supt, they -withdrew to their lodgings.</p> - -<p>The poore beaten woman, could hardly raise her selfe from the -ground, which yet (with much adoe) she did, and threw her selfe -upon the bed, where she tooke such rest as she could: but arising -early the next morning, she came to her Husband, and making him -a very low courtesie, demaunded what hee pleased to have for his -dinner; he smiling heartely thereat, with <i>Melisso</i>, tolde her his mind. -And when dinner time came, every thing was ready according to -the direction given: in which regard, they highly commended the -counsell, whereof they made such an harsh construction at the first.</p> - -<p>Within a while after, <i>Melisso</i> being gone from <i>Giosefo</i>, and returned -home to his owne house: hee acquainted a wise and reverend -man, with the answere which king <i>Salomon</i> gave him, whereto hee -received this reply. No better or truer advise could possibly be -given you, for well you know, that you love not any man; but the -bountifull banquets you bestow on them, is more in respect of your -owne vaine-glory, then any kind affection you beare to them: -Learne then to love men, as <i>Salomon</i> advised, and you shall be beloved -of them againe. Thus our unruly Wife became mildely reclaimed, -and the young Gentleman, by loving others, found the -fruits of reciprocall affection.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="John_de_Barolo_at_the_instance_and_request_of_his_Gossip_Pietro_da" id="John_de_Barolo_at_the_instance_and_request_of_his_Gossip_Pietro_da">John de Barolo, <i>at the instance and request of his Gossip</i> Pietro da -Trefanti, <i>made an enchantment, to have his wife become a Mule. -And when it came to the fastening on of the taile; Gossip</i> Pietro -<i>by saying she should have no taile at all, spoyled the whole enchantment.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Tenth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>In just reproofe of such foolish men, as will be governed by over-light -beleefe.</i></h4> - - -<p>This Novell reported by the Queene, caused a little murmuring -among the Ladies, albeit the men laughed heartely -thereat: but after they were all growne silent, <i>Dioneus</i> -began in this manner. Gracious Beauties, among many white -Doves, one blacke Crow will seeme more sightly, then the very -whitest Swanne can doe. In like manner, among a multitude of -wise men, sometimes one of much lesse wisedome and discretion, -shall not onely increase the splendour and Majestie of their maturity, -but also give an addition of delight and solace.</p> - -<p>In which regard, you all being modest and discreet Ladies, and -my selfe more much defective in braine, then otherwise able: in -making your vertues shine gloriously, through the evident apparance -of mine owne weakenesse, you should esteeme the better of -mee, by how much I seeme the more cloudy and obscure. And -consequently, I ought to have the larger scope of liberty, by plainely -expressing what I am, and be the more patiently endured by -you all, in saying what absurdly I shall; then I should be if my speeches -favoured of absolute wisdome. I will therfore tell you a Tale, -which shall not be of any great length, whereby you may comprehend, -how carefully such things should be observed, which are -commanded by them, as can effect matters by the power of enchantment, -and how little delayance also ought to be in such, as -would not have an enchantment so be hindered.</p> - -<p>About a yeare already past since, there dwelt at <i>Barletta</i>, an honest -man, called <i>John de Barolo</i>, who because he was of poore condition; -for maintenance in his contented estate, provided himselfe of -a Mule, to carry commodities from place to place, where Faires and -Markets were in request, but most especially to <i>Apuglia</i>, buying -and selling in the nature of a petty Chapman. Travelling thus thorow -the Countreyes, he grew into great and familiar acquaintance, -with one who named himselfe <i>Pietro da Trefanti</i>, following the -same Trade of life as he did, carrying his commodities upon an -Asse. In signe of amitie, according to the Countreyes custome, he -never tearmed him otherwise, then by the name of Gossip <i>Pietro</i> -and alwayes when he came to <i>Barletta</i>, he brought him to his own -house, taking it as his Inne, entreating him very friendly, and in the -best manner he could devise to doe. On the other side, Gossip <i>Pietro</i> -being very poore, having but one simple habitation in the village -of <i>Trefanti</i>, hardly sufficient for him, and an handsome young -woman which he had to his wife, as also his Asse: evermore when -<i>John de Barolo</i> came to <i>Trefanti</i>, he would bring him to his poore -abiding, with all his uttermost abilitie of entertainement, in due -acknowledgement of the courtesie he afforded to him at <i>Barletta</i>. -But when he came to take repose in the night-season, Gossip <i>Pietro</i> -could not lodge him as gladly he would: because he had but one -silly bed, wherein himselfe and his wife lay; so that <i>John de Barolo</i> -was faigne to lie on a little straw, in a small stable, close adjoyning -by his owne Mule and the Asse.</p> - -<p>The woman understanding, what good and honest welcome, -Gossip <i>John</i> afforded her husband, when he came to <i>Barletta</i>, was -often very willing to goe lodge with an honest neighbour of hers, -called <i>Carapresa di Giudice Leo</i>, because the two Gossips might both -lie together in one bed; wherewith divers times she acquainted her -Husband, but by no meanes he would admit it.</p> - -<p>At one time among the rest, as she was making the same motion -againe to her Husband, that his friend might be lodged in better -manner: Gossip <i>John</i> thus spake to her. Good <i>Zita Carapresa</i>, -never molest your selfe for me, because I lodge to mine owne contentment, -and so much the rather, in regard that whensoever I list: -I can convert my Mule into a faire young woman, to give mee -much delight in the night-season, and afterward make her a Mule -againe: thus am I never without her company.</p> - -<p>The young woman wondring at these words, and beleeving he -did not fable in them: she told them to her Husband, with this addition -beside, <i>Pietro</i> (quoth she) if he be such a deare friend to thee, -as thou hast often avouched to me; with him to instruct thee in so -rare a cunning, that thou maist make a Mule of me; then shalt thou -have both an Asse and a Mule to travell withall about thy businesse, -whereby thy benefit will be double: and when we returne home to -our house; then thou maist make mee thy wife againe, in the same -condition as I was before. Gossip <i>Pietro</i>, who was (indeed) but -a very Coxecombe; beleeved also the words to be true, yeelding -therefore the more gladly to her advise; and moving the matter to -his Gossip <i>John</i>, to teach him such a wonderfull secret, which would -redound so greatly to his benefit: but <i>John</i> began to disswade him -from it, as having spoken it in merriment, yet perceiving, that no -contradiction would serve to prevaile, thus he began.</p> - -<p>Seeing you will needs have it so, let us rise to morrow morning -before day, as in our travell we use to doe, and then I will shew you -how it is to be done: onely I must and doe confesse, that the most -difficult thing of all the rest, is, to fasten on the taile, as thou shalt -see.</p> - -<p>Gossip <i>Pietro</i> and his wife, could hardly take any rest all the -night long, so desirous they were to have the deed done; and therefore -when it drew towards day, up they arose, and calling Gossip -<i>John</i>, he came presently to them in his shirt, & being in the Chamber -with them, he said. I know not any man in the world, to whom -I would disclose this secret, but to you, and therefore because you -so earnestly desire it, I am the more willing to doe it. Onely you -must consent, to doe whatsoever I say, if you are desirous to have it -done. Faithfully they promised to performe all, whereupon <i>John</i> -delivering a lighted Candle to Gossip <i>Pietro</i>, to hold in his hand, -said. Marke well what I doe, and remember all the words I say: but -be very carefull, that whatsoever thou hearest or seest, thou doe -not speake one word, for then the enchantment will be utterly overthrowne, -onely wish that the taile may be well set on, for therein -consisteth all the cunning.</p> - -<p>Gossip <i>Pietro</i> holding the Candle, and the woman being prepared as -<i>John</i> had appointed her, she bowed her selfe forwardes with -her hands set to the ground, even as if she stood upon foure feete. -First with his hands he touched her head and face, saying, Heere is -the goodly head of a Mule: then handling her disheveld haire, termed -them the goodly mane of a Mule. Afterwardes, touching the -body, armes, legs, and feete, gave them all the apt names (for those -parts) belonging to a Mule, nothing else remaining, but onely the -forming of the taile, which when <i>Pietro</i> perceived, how <i>John</i> was -preparing to fasten it on (having no way misliked all his former -proceeding) he called to him, saying: Forbeare Gossippe <i>John</i>, my -Mule shal have no taile at all, I am contented to have her without a -taile. How now Gossip <i>Pietro</i>? answered <i>John</i>, What hast thou -done? Thou hast mard all by this unadvised speaking, even when -the worke was almost fully finished. It is no matter Gossip (answered -<i>Pietro</i>) I can like my Mule better without a taile, then to see it -set on in such manner.</p> - -<p>The fond young woman, more covetously addicted to gayne and -commodity, then looking into the knavish intention of her Gossip -<i>John</i>; began to grow greatly offended. Beast as thou art (quoth she -to her Husband) why hast thou overthrowne both thine own good -Fortune and mine? Diddest thou ever see a Mule without a taile? -Wouldst thou have had him made me a monster? Thou art wretchedly -poore, and when we might have bin enriched for ever, by a -secret knowne to none but our selves, thou art the Asse that hast defeated -all, and made thy friend to become thine enemy. Gossippe -<i>John</i> began to pacifie the woman, with solemne protestations of his -still continuing friendship, albeit (afterwards) there was no further -desiring of any more Mule-making: but Gossip <i>Pietro</i> fel to his former -Trading onely with his Asse, as he was no lesse himselfe, and -hee went no more with Gossip <i>John</i> to the Faires in <i>Apuglia</i>, neyther -did he ever request, to have the like peece of service done for -him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Although there was much laughing at this Novell, the Ladies -understanding it better, then <i>Dioneus</i> intended that -they should have done, yet himselfe scarsely smiled. But -the Novels being all ended, and the Sunne beginning to loose his -heate; the Queene also knowing, that the full period of her government -was come: dispossessing her selfe of the Crowne, shee placed -it on the head of <i>Pamphilus</i>, who was the last of all to be honoured -with this dignity; wherefore (with a gracious smile) thus she spake -to him.</p> - -<p>Sir, it is no meane charge which you are to undergo, in making -amends (perhaps) for all the faults committed by my selfe and the -rest, who have gone before you in the same authority; and, may it -prove as prosperous unto you, as I was willing to create you our -King. <i>Pamphilus</i> having received the honour with a chearfull mind, -thus answered. Madam, your sacred vertues, and those (beside) remaining -in my other Subjects, will (no doubt) worke so effectually -for me, that (as the rest have done) I shall deserve your generall -good opinion. And having given order to the Master of the Houshold -(as all his predecessors had formerly done, for every necessary -occasion) he turned to the Ladies, who expected his gracious favour, -and said.</p> - -<p>Bright Beauties, it was the discretion of your late Soveraigne & -Queene, in regard of ease and recreation unto your tyred spirits, to -grant you free liberty, for discoursing on whatsoever your selves -best pleased: wherefore, having enjoyed such a time of rest, I am of -opinion, that it is best to returne once more to our wonted Law, in -which respect, I would have every one to speake in this manner to -morrow. Namely, of those men or women, who have done any -thing bountifully or magnificently, either in matter of amity, or otherwise. -The relation of such worthy arguments, will (doubtlesse) -give an addition to our very best desires, for a free and forward inclination -to good actions, whereby our lives (how short soever they -bee) may perpetuate an ever-living renowne and fame, after our -mortall bodies are converted into dust, which (otherwise) are no -better then those of bruite beasts, reason onely distinguishing this -difference, that as they live to perish utterly, so we respire to reigne -in eternity.</p> - -<p>The Theame was exceedingly pleasing to the whole Company; -who being all risen, by permission of the new King, every one fel to -their wonted recreations, as best agreed with their owne disposition; -untill the houre for Supper came, wherein they were served -very sumptuously. But being risen from the Table, they began their -dances, among which, many sweet Sonnets were enterlaced, with -such delicate Tunes as moved admiration. Then the King commanded -Madam <i>Neiphila</i>, to sing a song in his name, or how her selfe -stood best affected. And immediately with a cleare and rare voice, -thus she began.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>THE SONG.</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Chorus sung by all the Companie.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">In the Spring season,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Maides have best reason,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">To dance and sing;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With Chaplets of Flowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To decke up their Bowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i7">And all in honour of the Spring.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">I heard a Nimph that sate alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">By a Fountaines side:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Much her hard Fortune to bemone,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">For still she cride:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah! Who will pitty her distresse,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That findes no foe like ficklenesse?<br /></span> -<span class="i6">For truth lives not in men:<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Poore soule, why live I then?<br /></span> -<span class="i10">In the Spring season, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Oh, How can mighty Love permit,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Such a faithlesse deed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And not in justice punish it<br /></span> -<span class="i10">As treasons meed?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am undone through perjury,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Although I loved constantly:<br /></span> -<span class="i6">But truth lives not in men,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Poore soule, why live I then?<br /></span> -<span class="i9">In the Spring season,&c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">When I did follow Dyans traine,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">As a loyall Maide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I never felt oppressing paine,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Nor was dismaide.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when I listened Loves alluring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then I wandred from assuring.<br /></span> -<span class="i5">For truth lives not in men:<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Poore soule, why live I then?<br /></span> -<span class="i9">In the Spring season, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Adiew to all my former joyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i9">When I lived at ease,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And welcome now those sad annoies<br /></span> -<span class="i9">Which do most displease.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And let none pitty her distresse,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That fell not, but by ficklenesse.<br /></span> -<span class="i5">For truth lives not in men,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Alas! why live I then?<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">In the Spring season,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Maides have best reason,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">To dance and sing;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With Chaplets of Flowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To decke up their Bowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">And all in honour of the Spring.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>This Song, most sweetly sung by Madame <i>Neiphila</i>, was especially -commended, both by the King, & all the rest of the Ladies. Which -being fully finished, the King gave order, that everie one should repaire -to their Chambers, because a great part of the night was already -spent.</p> - -<h4><i>The end of the Ninth Day.</i></h4> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h2><a name="The_Tenth_and_last_Day" id="The_Tenth_and_last_Day">The -Tenth and last Day.</a></h2> - -<h4><i>Whereon, under the government of Pamphilus, -the severall Arguments do concerne such persons, -as either by way of Liberality, or in Magnificent -manner, performed any worthy action, -for love, favour, friendship, or any other honourable -occasion.</i></h4> - - -<h4>The Induction.</h4> - - -<p>Already began certaine small -Clouds in the West, to blush -with a Vermillion tincture, -when those in the East (having -reached to their full heighth) -looked like bright burnished -Gold, by splendour of the Sun -beames drawing neere unto -them: when <i>Pamphilus</i> being risen, caused the Ladies, -and the rest of his honourable companions to be called. -When they were all assembled, and had concluded -together on the place, whither they should walke -for their mornings recreation: the King ledde on the -way before, accompanied with the two Noble Ladies -<i>Philomena</i> and <i>Fiammetta</i>, all the rest following after -them, devising, talking, and answering to divers demands -both what that day was to be don, as also concerning -the proposed imposition.</p> - -<p>After they had walked an indifferent space of time, -and found the rayes of the Sunne to be over-piercing -for them: they returned backe againe to the Pallace, -as fearing to have their blood immoderately heated. -Then rinsing their Glasses in the coole cleare running -current, each tooke their mornings draught, & -then walked into the milde shades about the Garden, -untill they should bee summoned to dinner. Which -was no sooner over-past, and such as slept, returned -waking: they mette together againe in their wonted -place, according as the King had appointed, where -he gave command unto Madame <i>Neiphila</i>, that shee -should (for that day) begin the first Novell, which she -humbly accepting, thus began.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="A_Florentine_knight_named_Signior_Rogiero_de_Figiovanni_became" id="A_Florentine_knight_named_Signior_Rogiero_de_Figiovanni_became"><i>A Florentine knight, named Signior</i> Rogiero de Figiovanni, <i>became -a servant to</i> Alphonso, <i>King of</i> Spaine, <i>who (in his owne opinion) -seemed but sleightly to respect and reward him. In regard whereof, -by a notable experiment, the King gave him a manifest testimony, -that it was not through any defect in him, but onely occasioned by -the Knights ill fortune; most bountifully recompensing him afterward.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The First Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein may evidently be discerned, that Servants to Princes and great -Lords, are many times recompenced, rather by their good fortune, -then in any regard of their dutifull services.</i></h4> - - -<p>I doe accept it (Worthy Ladies) as no mean -favour, that the King hath given me the first -place, to speake of such an honourable Argument, -as Bounty and Magnificence is, -which precious Jewell, even as the Sunne -is the beauty, or ornament and bright glory -of al heaven; so is bounty and magnificence -the Crowne of all vertues. I shall then recount -to you a short Novell, sufficiently pleasing, in mine owne opinion, -and I hope (so much I dare rely on your judgements) both -profitable, and worthy to be remembred.</p> - -<p>You are to know then, that among other valiant Knights, which -of long have lived in our City, one of them, and (perhappes) of as -great merit as any, was one, named Signior <i>Rogiero d'Figiovanni</i>. -He being rich, of great courage, and perceiving, that (in due consideration) -the quality belonging to life, and the customes observed -among our <i>Tuscanes</i>, were not answerable to his expectation, nor -agreed with the disposition of his valour; determined to leave his -native Countrey, and belong in service (for some time) to <i>Alfonso</i>, -King of <i>Spaine</i>, whose fame was generally noised in all places, for -excelling all other Princes in those times, for respect of mens well -deservings, and bountifull requitall of their paines. Being provided -in honourable order, both of Horses, Armes, & a competent train, he -travelled to <i>Spaine</i>, where he was worthily entertained.</p> - -<p>Signior <i>Rogiero</i> continuing there, living in honourable manner, and -performing many admirable actions of arms; in short time he made -himselfe sufficiently knowne, for a very valiant and famous man. -And having remained there an indifferent long while, observing divers -behaviours in the king: he saw, how he enclined himselfe first to -one man, then to another, bestowing on one a Castle, a Towne on -another, and Baronnies on divers, som-what indiscreetly, as giving -away bountifully to men of no merit. And restraining all his favours -from him, as seeming close fisted, and parting with nothing: he took -it as a diminishing of his former reputation, and a great empayring -of his fame, wherefore he resolved on his departure thence, & made -his suit to the king that he might obtaine it. The king did grant it, bestowing -on him one of the very best Mules, and the goodliest that -ever was backt, a gift most highly pleasing to <i>Rogiero</i>, in regarde of -the long journey he intended to ride. Which being deliverd, the king -gave charge to one of his Gentlemen, to compasse such convenient -meanes, as to ride thorow the country, and in the company of Signior -<i>Rogiero</i>, yet in such manner, as he should not perceive, that the -King had purposely sent him so to do. Respectively he should observe -whatsoever he said concerning the king, his gesture, smiles, and -other behaviour, shaping his answers accordingly, and on the nexte -morning to command his returne backe with him to the King.</p> - -<p>Nor was the Gentleman slacke in this command, but noting <i>Rogieroes</i> -departing forth of the city, he mounted on horseback likewise, -and immediately after came into his company, making him beleeve, -that he journeyed towards <i>Italy. Rogiero</i> rode on the Mule which the -king had given him, with diversity of speeches passing between them. -About three of the clocke in the afternoone, the Gentleman said. It -were not amisse Sir, (having such fit opportunitie) to Stable our -horses for a while, till the heate be a little more overpast. So taking -an Inne, and the horses being in the stable, they all staled except -the Mule.</p> - -<p>Being mounted againe, and riding on further, the Gentleman -duely observed whatsoever <i>Rogiero</i> spake, and comming to the passage -of a small River or Brooke: the rest of the beasts dranke, and -not the Mule, but staled in the River: which Signior <i>Rogiero</i> seeing, -clapping his hands on the Mules mane, hee said. What a wicked -beast art thou? thou art just like thy Master that gave thee to mee. -The Gentleman committed the words to memory, as he did many -other passing from <i>Rogiero</i>, riding along the rest of the day, yet none -in disparagement of the King, but rather highly in his commendation. -And being the next morning mounted on horseback, seeming -to hold on still the way for <i>Tuscane</i>: the Gentleman fulfilled the -Kings command, causing Signior <i>Rogiero</i> to turne back againe with -him, which willingly he yeelded to doe.</p> - -<p>When they were come to the Court, and the King made acquainted -with the words, which <i>Rogiero</i> spake to his Mule; he was -called into the presence, where the King shewed him a gracious -countenance, & demanded of him, why he had compared him to his -Mule? Signior <i>Rogiero</i> nothing daunted, but with a bold and constant -spirit, thus answered. Sir, I made the comparison, because, like -as you give, where there is no conveniency, and bestow nothing -where reason requireth: even so, the Mule would not stale where -she should have done, but where was water too much before, there -she did it. Beleeve me Signior <i>Rogiero</i>, replyed the King, if I have -not given you such gifts, as (perhaps) I have done to divers other, -farre inferiour to you in honour and merit; this happened not thorough -any ignorance in me, as not knowing you to be a most valiant -Knight, and well-worthy of speciall respect: but rather through -your owne ill fortune, which would not suffer me to doe it, whereof -she is guilty, and not I, as the truth thereof shall make it selfe apparent -to you. Sir, answered <i>Rogiero</i>, I complaine not, because I -have received no gift from you, as desiring thereby covetously to -become the richer: but in regard you have not as yet any way acknowledged, -what vertue is remaining in me. Neverthelesse, I allow -your excuse for good and reasonable, and am heartely contented, -to behold whatsoever you please; although I doe confidently -credit you, without any other testimony.</p> - -<p>The King conducted him then into the great Hall, where (as hee -had before given order) stood two great Chests, fast lockt; & in the -presence of all his Lords, the King thus spake. Signior <i>Rogiero</i>, in -out of these Chests is mine imperiall Crowne, the Scepter Royall, -the Mound, & many more of my richest girdles, rings, plate, & Jewels, -even the very best that are mine: the other is full of earth onely. -Chuse one of these two, and which thou makest election of; upon -my Royall word thou shalt enjoy it. Hereby shalt thou evidently -perceive, who hath bin ingreatful to the deservings, either I, or thine -owne bad fortune. <i>Rogiero</i> seeing it was the kings pleasure to have -it so; chose one of them, which the King caused presently to be opened, -it approving to be the same that was full of earth, whereat -the King smyling, said thus unto him.</p> - -<p>You see Signior <i>Rogiero</i>, that what I said concerning your ill fortune, -is very true: but questionlesse, your valour is of such desert, -as I ought to oppose my selfe against all her malevolence. And because -I know right, that you are not minded to become a Spaniard; -I will give you neither Castle nor dwelling place: but I will bestow -the Chest on you (in meer despight of your malicious fortune) -which she so unjustly tooke away from you. Carry it home with -you into your Countrey, that there it may make an apparant testimoney, -in the sight of all your well-willers, both of your owne vertuous -deservings, and my bounty. Signior <i>Rogiero</i> humbly receiving -the Chest, and thanking his Majestie for so liberall a gift, returned -home joyfullly therewith, into his native Countrey of <i>Tuscane</i>.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Ghinotto_di_Tacco_tooke_the_Lord_Abbot_of_Clugni_as_his_prisoner" id="Ghinotto_di_Tacco_tooke_the_Lord_Abbot_of_Clugni_as_his_prisoner">Ghinotto di Tacco; <i>tooke the Lord Abbot of</i> Clugni <i>as his prisoner, -and cured him of a grievous disease, which he had in his stomacke, -and afterward set him at liberty. The same Lord Abbot, when hee -returned from the Court of Rome, reconciled</i> Ghinotto <i>to Pope</i> Boniface; -<i>who made him a Knight, and Lord Prior of a goodly Hospitall.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The second Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is declared that good men doe sometimes fall into bad conditions, -onely occasioned thereto by necessity: And what meanes are to -be used, for their reducing to goodnesse againe.</i></h4> - - -<p>The magnificence and Royall bounty, which King <i>Alphonso</i> -bestowed on the Florentine knight, passed through the -whole assembly with no mean applause; & the King (who -gave it the greatest praise of al) commanded Madame <i>Eliza</i>, to take -the second turne in order; whereupon, thus she began.</p> - -<p>Faire Ladies, if a king shewed himselfe magnificently minded, -and expressed his liberall bounty to such a man, as had done him -good and honourable services: it can be termed no more then a -vertuous deed well done, and becomming a King. But what will we -say, when we heare that a Prelate of the Church, shewed himselfe -wondrously magnificent, and to such a one as was his enemy: can -any malicious tongue speake ill of him? Undoubtedly, no other -answere is to be made, but the action of the King was meerely vertue, -and that of the Prelate, no lesse then a miracle: for how can it -be otherwise, when they are more greedily covetous then women, -and deadly enemies to all liberality? And although every man -(naturally) desireth revenge for injuries and abuses done unto -him: yet men of the Church, in regard that dayly they preached -patience, and commaund (above all things else) remission of -sinnes: it would appeare a mighty blemish in them, to be more froward -and furious then other men. But I am to speake of a reverend -Prelate of the Church, as also concerning his munificent -bounty, to one that was his enemy, and yet became his reconciled -friend, as you shall perceive by my Novell.</p> - -<p><i>Ghinotto di Tacco</i>, for his insolent and stout robberies, became a -man very farre famed, who being banished from <i>Sienna</i>, and an enemy -to the Countes <i>Disanta Fiore</i>: prevailed so by his bold and -headstrong perswasions, that the Towne of <i>Raticonfani</i> rebelled against -the Church of Rome, wherein he remaining; all passengers -whatsoever, travelling any way thereabout, were robde and rifled -by his theeving Companions. At the time whereof now I speake, -<i>Boniface</i> the eight, governed as Pope at Rome, and the Lord Abbot -of <i>Clugni</i> (accounted to be one of the richest Prelates in the world) -came to Rome, and there either by some surfeit, excesse of feeding, -or otherwise, his stomacke being grievously offended and pained; -the Phisitians advised him, to travell to the Bathes at <i>Sienna</i>, where -he should receive immediate cure. In which respect, his departure -being licenced by the Pope, to set onward thither, with great -and pompous Carriages, of Horses, Mules, and a goodly traine, without -hearing any rumour of the theevish Consorts.</p> - -<p><i>Ghinotto di Tacco</i>, being advertised of his comming, spred about -his scouts and nettes, and without missing so much as one Page, shut -up the Abbot, with all his traine and baggage, in a place of narrow -restraint, out of which he could by no meanes escape. When this -was done, he sent one of his most sufficient attendants, (well accompanyed) -to the Lord Abbot, who said to him in his Masters -name, that if his Lordship were so pleased, hee might come and visite -<i>Ghinotto</i> at his Castle. Which the Abbot hearing, answered -chollerickly, that he would not come thither, because hee had nothing -to say to <i>Ghinotto</i>: but meant to proceed on in his journey, and -would faine see, who durst presume to hinder his passe. To which -rough words, the messenger thus mildely answered. My Lord -(quoth he) you are arrived in such a place, where we feare no other -force, but the all-controlling power of heaven, clearely exempted -from the Popes thunder-cracks, of maledictions, interdictions, excommunications, -or whatsoever else: and therefore it would bee -much better for you, if you pleased to do as <i>Ghinotto</i> adviseth you.</p> - -<p>During the time of this their interparlance, the place was suddenly -round ingirt with strongly armed theeves, and the Lord Abbot -perceiving, that both he and all his followers were surprized: tooke -his way (though very impatiently) towards the Castle, and likewise -all his company and carriages with him. Being dismounted, hee -was conducted (as <i>Ghinotto</i> had appointed) all alone, into a small -Chamber of the Castle, it being very darke and uneasie: but the -rest of his traine, every one according to his ranck and quality, were -all well lodged in the Castle, their horses, goods and all things else, -delivered into secure keeping, without the least touch of injury or -prejudice. All which being orderly done, <i>Ghinotto</i> himselfe went -to the Lord Abbot, and said. My Lord, <i>Ghinotto</i>, to whom you -are a welcome guest, requesteth, that it might be your pleasure to -tell him, whither you are travelling, and upon what occasion?</p> - -<p>The Lord Abbot being a very wise man, and his angry distemper -more moderately qualified; revealed whither he went, and the -cause of his going thither. Which when <i>Ghinotto</i> had heard, hee -departed courteously from him, and began to consider with himselfe, -how he might cure the Abbot; yet without any Bathe. So, -commanding a good fire to be kept continually in his small Chamber, -and very good attendance on him: the next morning, he came -to visite him againe, bringing a faire white Napkin on his arme, and -in it two slices or toasts of fine Manchet, a goodly cleare Glasse, full -of the purest white-Bastard of <i>Corniglia</i> (but indeed, of the Abbots -owne provision brought thither with him) and then hee spoke to -him in this manner.</p> - -<p>My Lord, when <i>Ghinotto</i> was younger then now he is, he studyed -Physicke, and he commanded me to tell you, that the very best medicine, -he could ever learne, against any disease in the stomacke, was -this which he had provided for your Lordship, as an especiall preparative, -and which he should finde to be very comfortable. The Abbot, -who had a better stomacke to eate, then any will or desire to -talke: although hee did it somewhat disdainfully, yet hee eate up -both the toastes, and roundly dranke off the Glasse of Bastard. -Afterward, divers other speeches passed betweene them, the one -still advising in Phisicall manner, and the other seeming to care little -for it: but moved many questions concerning <i>Ghinotto</i>, and earnestly -requesting to see him. Such speeches as favoured of the Abbots -discontentment, and came from him in passion; were clouded -with courteous acceptance, & not the least signe of any mislike: but -assuring his Lordship, that <i>Ghinotto</i> intended very shortly to see him, -and so they parted for that time.</p> - -<p>Nor returned he any more, till the next morning with the like -two toastes of bread, and such another Glasse of white Bastard, as -he had brought him at the first, continuing the same course for divers -dayes after: till the Abbot had eaten (and very hungerly too) -a pretty store of dryed Beanes, which <i>Ghinotto</i> purposely, (yet secretly) -had hidden in the Chamber. Whereupon he demaunded -of him (as seeming to be so enjoyned by his pretended master) in -what temper he found his stomacke now? I should finde my stomacke -well enough (answered the Lord Abbot) if I could get forth -of thy masters fingers, and then have some good food to feed on: -for his medicines have made me so soundly stomackt, that I am ready -to starve with hunger.</p> - -<p>When <i>Ghinotto</i> was gone from him, hee then prepared a very -faire Chamber for him, adorning it with the Abbots owne rich -hangings, as also his Plate and other moveables, such as were alwayes -used for his service. A costly dinner he provided likewise, -whereto he invited divers of the Towne, and many of the Abbots -chiefest followers: then going to him againe the next morning, he -said. My Lord, seeing you doe feele your stomacke so well, it is -time you should come forth of the Infirmary. And taking him by -the hand, he brought him into the prepared Chamber, where he left -him with his owne people, and went to give order for the dinners -serving in, that it might be performed in magnificent manner.</p> - -<p>The Lord Abbot recreated himselfe a while with his owne -people, to whom he recounted, the course of his life since hee saw -them; and they likewise told him, how kindly they had bin initeated -by <i>Ghinotto</i>. But when dinner time was come, the Lord Abbot -and all his company, were served with Costly viands and excellent -Wines, without <i>Ghinottoes</i> making himselfe knowne to the Abbot: -till after he had beene entertained some few dayes in this order: -into the great Hall of the Castle, <i>Ghinotto</i> caused all the Abbots -goods and furniture to bee brought, and likewise into a spacious -Court, whereon the windowes of the said Court gazed, all his mules -and horses, with their sumpters, even to the very silliest of them, -which being done, <i>Ghinotto</i> went to the Abbot, and demaunded of -him, how he felt his stomacke now, and whether it would serve him -to venter on horsebacke as yet, or no? The Lord Abbot answered, -that he found his stomacke perfectly recovered, his body strong enough -to endure travell, and all things well, so hee were delivered -from <i>Ghinotto</i>.</p> - -<p>Hereupon, he brought him into the hall where his furniture was, -as also all his people, & commanding a window to be opned, whereat -he might behold his horses, he said. My Lord, let me plainely -give you to understand, that neither cowardise, or basenesse of -minde, induced <i>Ghinotto di Tacco</i> (which is my selfe) to become a -lurking robber on the high-wayes, an enemy to the Pope, and so -(consequently) to the Romane Court: but onely to save his owne -life and honour, knowing himselfe to be a Gentleman cast out of -his owne house, and having (beside) infinite enemies. But because -you seeme to be a worthy Lord, I will not (although I have cured -your stomacks disease) deale with you as I doe to others, whose -goods (when they fall into my power) I take such part of as I please: -but rather am well contented, that my necessities being considered -by your selfe, you spare me out a proportion of the things you have -heere, answerable to your owne liking. For all are present here before -you, both in this Hall, and in the Court beneath, free from any -spoyle, or the least impairing. Wherefore, give a part, or take -all, if you please, and then depart hence when you will, or abide -heere still, for now you are at your owne free liberty.</p> - -<p>The Lord Abbot wondred not a little, that a robber on the high -wayes, should have such a bold and liberall spirit, which appeared -very pleasing to him; and instantly, his former hatred and spleene against -<i>Ghinotto</i>, became converted into cordiall love and kindnes, -so that (imbracing him in his armes) he said. I protest upon my vow -made to Religion, that to win the love of such a man, as I plainely -perceive thee to be: I would undergo far greater injuries, then those -which I have received at thy hands. Accursed be cruell destiny, that -forced thee to so base a kind of life, and did not blesse thee with -a fairer fortune. After he had thus spoken, he left there the greater -part of all his goods, and returned back againe to Rome, with fewer -horses, and a meaner traine.</p> - -<p>During these passed accidents, the Pope had received intelligence -of the Lord Abbots surprizall, which was not a little displeasing to -him: but when he saw him returned, he demaunded, what benefit -he received at the Bathes? Whereto the Abbot, merrily smyling, -thus replyed. Holy Father, I met with a most skilfull Physitian neerer -hand, whose experience is beyond the power of the Bathes, for -by him I am very perfectly cured: and so discoursed all at large. -The Pope laughing heartely, and the Abbot continuing on still his -report, moved with an high and magnificent courage, he demaunded -one gracious favour of the Pope: who imagining that he would -request a matter of greater moment, then he did, freely offered to -grant, whatsoever he desired.</p> - -<p>Holy Father, answered the Lord Abbot, all the humble suit which -I make to you, is, that you would be pleased to receive into your -grace and favor, <i>Ghinotto di Tacco</i> my Physitian, because among all -the vertuous men, deserving to have especiall account made of them -I never met with any equall to him both in honour and honesty. -Whatsoever injury he did to me, I impute it as a greater in-fortune, -then any way he deserveth to be charged withall. Which wretched -condition of his, if you were pleased to alter, and bestow on -him some better meanes of maintenance, to live like a worthy man, -as he is no lesse: I make no doubt, but (in very short time) hee will -appeare as pleasing to your holinesse, as (in my best judgement) I -thinke him to be.</p> - -<p>The Pope, who was of a magnanimious spirit, and one that highly -affected men of vertue, hearing the commendable motion made -by the Abbot; returned answere, that he was as willing to grant it, -as the other desired it, sending Letters of safe conduct for his comming -thither. <i>Ghinotto</i> receiving such assurance from the Court -of Rome, came thither immediately, to the great joy of the Lord -Abbot: and the Pope finding him to be a man of valor and worth, -upon reconciliation, remitted all former errors, creating him knight, -and Lord Prior of the very chiefest Hospitall in Rome. In which -Office he lived long time after, as a loyall servant to the Church, -and an honest thankefull friend to the Lord Abbot of <i>Clugny</i>.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Mithridanes_envying_the_life_and_liberality_of_Nathan_and_travelling" id="Mithridanes_envying_the_life_and_liberality_of_Nathan_and_travelling">Mithridanes <i>envying the life and liberality of</i> Nathan, <i>and travelling -thither, with a setled resolution to kill him: chaunceth to conferre -with</i> Nathan <i>unknowne. And being instructed by him, in what -manner he might best performe the bloody deede, according as hee -gave direction, hee meeteth with him in a small Thicket or Woode, -where knowing him to be the same man, that taught him how to -take away his life: Confounded with shame, hee acknowledgeth his -horrible intention, and becommeth his loyall friend.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The third Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Shewing in an excellent and lively demonstration, that any especiall -honourable vertue, persevering and dwelling in a truly noble soule, -cannot be violenced or confounded, by the most politicke attemptes -of malice and envy.</i></h4> - - -<p>It appeared to the whole assembly, that they had heard a -matter of mervaile, for a Lord Abbot to performe any -magnificent action: but their admiration ceasing in silence, -the King commanded <i>Philostratus</i> to follow next, who forthwith -thus began.</p> - -<p>Honourable Ladies, the bounty and magnificence of <i>Alphonso</i> -King of <i>Spaine</i>, was great indeede, and that done by the Lord Abbot -of <i>Clugny</i>, a thing (perhaps) never heard of in any other. But -it will seeme no lesse mervailous to you, when you heare, how one -man, in expression of great liberality to another man, that earnestly -desired to kill him; should bee secretly disposed to give him his -life, which had bin lost, if the other would have taken it, as I purpose -to acquaint you withall, in a short Novell.</p> - -<p>Most certaine it is, at least, if Faith may bee given to the report of -certaine <i>Genewayes</i>, and other men resorting to those remote parts, -that in the Country of <i>Cathaya</i>, there lived somtime a Gentleman, -rich beyond comparison, and named <i>Nathan</i>. He having his living -adjoyning to a great common rode-way, whereby men travayled -from the East to the West (as they did the like from the West unto -the East, as having no other means of passage) and being of a bountifull -and chearfull disposition, which he was willing to make knowen -by experience: he summoned together many Master Masons -and Carpenters, and there erected (in a short time) one of the greatest, -goodliest, and most beautifull houses (in manner of a Princes -Pallace) that ever was seene in all those quarters.</p> - -<p>With movables and all kinde of furnishment, befitting a house -of such outward apparance, hee caused it to be plentifully stored, -onely to receive, entertaine, and honour all Gentlemen or other Travailers -whatsoever, as had occasion to passe that way, being not unprovided -also of such a number of servants, as might continuallie -give attendance on all commers and goers. Two and fifty severall -gates, standing al way wide open, & over each of them in great golden -charracters was written, <i>Welcome, welcome,</i> and gave free admission -to all commers whatsoever.</p> - -<p>In this honourable order (observed as his estated custom) he persevered -so long a while, as not onely the East parts, but also those -in the west, were every where acquainted with his fame & renown. -Being already well stept into yeares, but yet not wearie (therefore) -of his great charge and liberality: it fortuned, that the rumour of his -noble Hospitality, came to the eare of another gallant Gentleman, -named <i>Mithridanes</i>, living in a Countrey not farre off from the other.</p> - -<p>This Gentleman, knowing himself no lesse wealthy then <i>Nathan</i>, -and enviously repining at his vertue and liberality, determined in -his mind, to dim and obscure the others bright splendor, by making -himselfe farre more famous. And having built a Palace answerable -to that of <i>Nathans</i>, with like windings of gates, and welcome inscriptions; -he beganne to extend immeasurable courtesies, unto all such -as were disposed to visite him: so that (in a short while) hee grew -very famous in infinite places. It chanced on a day, as <i>Mithridanes</i> -sate all alone within the goodly Court of his Pallace: a poore -woman entred at one of the gates, craving an almes of him, which -she had; and returned in againe at a second gate, comming also to -him, and had a second almes; continuing so still a dozen times; but -at the thirteenth returning, <i>Mithridanes</i> saide to her: Good Woman, -you goe and come very often, and still you are served with -almes. When the old Woman heard these words, she said. O the -liberality of <i>Nathan</i>! How honourable and wonderfull is that? I -have past through two and thirty gates of his Palace, even such as -are here, and at every one I receyved an almes, without any knowledgement -taken of me, either by him, or any of his followers: and -heere I have past but through thirteene gates, and am there both acknowledged -and taken. Fare well to this house, for I never meane -to visit it any more; with which words shee departed thence, and -never after came thither againe.</p> - -<p>When <i>Mithridanes</i> had a while pondered on her speeches, hee -waxed much discontented, as taking the words of the olde woman, -to extoll the renowne of <i>Nathan</i>, and darken or ecclipse his glorie, -whereupon he said to himselfe. Wretched man as I am, when shall -I attaine to the height of liberality, and performe such wonders, as -<i>Nathan</i> doth? In seeking to surmount him, I cannot come neere -him in the very meanest. Undoubtedly, I spend all my endeavour -but in vaine, except I rid the world of him, which (seeing his age -will not make an end of him) I must needs do with my own hands. -In which furious and bloody determination (without revealing his -intent to any one) he mounted on horse-backe, with few attendants -in his company, and after three dayes journey, arrived where <i>Nathan</i> -dwelt. He gave order to his men, to make no shew of beeing -his servants, or any way to acknowledge him: but to provide them -selves of convenient lodgings, untill they heard other tydings from -him.</p> - -<p>About Evening, and (in this manner) alone by himselfe, neere to -the Palace of <i>Nathan</i>, he met him solitarily walking, not in pompous -apparrell, whereby to bee distinguished from a meaner man: -and, because he knew him not, neyther had heard any relation of -his description, he demanded of him, if he knew where <i>Nathan</i> then -was? <i>Nathan</i>, with a chearfull countenance, thus replyed. Faire -Syr, there is no man in these parts, that knoweth better how to -shew you <i>Nathan</i> then I do; and therefore, if you be so pleased, I -will bring you to him. <i>Mithridanes</i> said, therein he should do him -a great kindnesse: albeit (if it were possible) he would bee neyther -knowne nor seene of <i>Nathan</i>. And that (quoth he) can I also do sufficiently -for you, seeing it is your will to have it so, if you will goe along -with me.</p> - -<p>Dismounting from his horse, he walked on with <i>Nathan</i>, diversly -discoursing, untill they came to the Pallace, where one of the servants -taking <i>Mithridanes</i> his horse, <i>Nathan</i> rounded the fellow in -the eare, that he should give warning to all throughout the House, -for revealing to the Gentleman, that he was <i>Nathan</i>; as accordingly -it was performed. No sooner were they within the Pallace, but he -conducted <i>Mithridanes</i> into a goodly chamber, where none (as yet) -had seene him, but such as were appointed to attend on him reverently; -yea, and he did himselfe greatly honour him, as being loth to -leave his company.</p> - -<p>While thus <i>Mithridanes</i> conversed with him, he desired to know -(albeit he respected him much for his yeares) what he was. Introth -Sir, answered <i>Nathan</i>, I am one of the meanest servants to <i>Nathan</i>, -and from my child-hood, have made my selfe thus olde in his service: -yet never hath he bestowed any other advancement on mee, -then as you now see; in which respect, howsoever other men may -commend him, yet I have no reason at all to do it. These Words, -gave some hope to <i>Mithridanes</i>, that with a little more counsell, he -might securely put in execution his wicked determination. <i>Nathan</i> -likewise demaunded of him (but in very humble manner) of -whence, and what he was, as also the businesse inviting him thither: -offering him his utmost aide and counsell, in what soever consisted -in his power.</p> - -<p><i>Mithridanes</i> sat an indifferent while meditating with his thoughts -before he would returne any answer: but at the last, concluding to -repose confidence in him (in regard of his pretended discontentment) -with many circumstantiall perswasions, first for fidelity, next for constancie, -and lastly for counsell and assistance, he declared to him truly -what he was, the cause of his comming thither, and the reason urging -him thereto. <i>Nathan</i> hearing these words, and the detestable -deliberation of <i>Mithridanes</i>, became quite changed in himself: yet -wisely making no outward appearance thereof, with a bold courage -and setled countenance, thus he replyed.</p> - -<p><i>Mithridanes</i>, thy Father was a Noble Gentleman, and (in vertuous -qualities) inferiour to none, from whom (as now I see) thou -desirest not to degenerate, having undertaken so bold & high an enterprise, -I meane, in being liberall and bountifull to all men. I do -greatly commend the envy which thou bearest to the vertue of <i>Nathan</i>: -because if there were many more such men, the world that is -now wretched and miserable, would become good and conformable. -As for the determination which thou hast disclosed to mee, I -have sealed it up secretly in my soule: wherein I can better give thee -counsell, then any especiall helpe or furtherance: and the course -which I would have thee to observe, followeth thus in few words.</p> - -<p>This window, which we now looke forth at, sheweth thee a small -wood or thicket of trees, being little more then the quarter of a miles -distance hence; whereto <i>Nathan</i> usually walketh every morning, -and there continueth time long enough: there maist thou very easily -meet him, and do whatsoever thou intended to him. If thou kilst -him, because thou maist with safety returne home unto thine owne -abiding, take not the same way which guided thee thither, but another, -lying on the left hand, & directing speedily out of the wood, -as being not so much haunted as the other, but rather free from all -resort, and surest for visiting thine owne countrey, after such a dismall -deed is done.</p> - -<p>When <i>Mithridanes</i> had receyved this instruction, and <i>Nathan</i> -was departed from him, hee secretly gave intelligence to his men, -(who likewise were lodged, as welcome strangers, in the same house) -at what place they should stay for him the next morning. Night being -passed over, and <i>Nathan</i> risen, his heart altred not a jot from his -counsel given to <i>Mithridanes</i>, much lesse changed from anie part -thereof: but all alone by himselfe, walked on to the wood, the place -appointed for his death. <i>Mithridanes</i> also being risen, taking his -Bow & Sword (for other weapons had he none) mounted on hors-backe, -and so came to the wood, where (somewhat farre off) hee espyed -<i>Nathan</i> walking, and no creature with him. Dismounting -from his horse, he had resolved (before he would kill him) not onely -to see, but also to heare him speake: so stepping roughly to him, -and taking hold of the bonnet on his head, his face being then turned -from him, he sayde. Old man, thou must dye. Whereunto -<i>Nathan</i> made no other answer, but thus: Why then (belike) I have -deserved it.</p> - -<p>When <i>Mithridanes</i> heard him speake, and looked advisedly on -his face, he knew him immediately to be the same man, that had entertained -him so lovingly, conversed with him so familiarly, and -counselled him so faithfully: all which overcomming his former fury, -his harsh nature became meerly confounded with shame: So -throwing downe his drawne sword, which he held readily prepared -for the deede: he prostrated himselfe at <i>Nathans</i> feet, and in teares, -spake in this manner. Now do I manifestly know (most loving Father) -your admired bounty and liberalitie; considering, with what -industrious providence, you made the meanes for your comming -hither, prodigally to bestow your life on me, which I have no right -unto, although you were so willing to part with it. But those high -and supreame powers, more carefull of my dutie, then I my selfe: -even at the very instant, and when it was most needfull, opened the -eyes of my better understanding, which infernall envy had closed -up before. And therefore, looke how much you have bin forward -to pleasure me; so much the more shame and punishment, I confesse -my heinous transgression hath justly deserved: take therefore on -me (if you please) such revenge, as you thinke (in justice) answerable -to my sin.</p> - -<p><i>Nathan</i> lovingly raised <i>Mithridanes</i> from the ground, then kissing -his cheeke, and tenderly embracing him, he said. Sonne, thou -needed not to aske, much lesse to obtaine pardon, for any enterprise -of thine, which thou canst not yet terme to be good or bad: because -thou soughtest not to bereave me of my life, for any hatred thou -barest me, but onely in coveting to be reputed the Woorthier man. -Take then this assurance of me, and beleeve it constantly, that there -is no man living, whom I love and honour, as I do thee: considering -the greatnesse of thy minde, which consisteth not in the heaping -up of money, as wretched and miserable Worldlings make it -their onely felicity; but, contending in bounty to spend what is -thine, didst hold it for no shame to kil me, thereby to make thy selfe -so much the more worthily famous.</p> - -<p>Nor is it any matter to be wondred at, in regard that Emperors, -and the greatest Kings, hadde never made such extendure of their -Dominions, and consequently of their renowne, by any other Art, -then killing; yet not one man onely, as thou wouldst have done: but -infinite numbers, burning whole Countries, and making desolate -huge Townes and Cities, onely to enlarge their dominion, and further -spreading of their fame. Wherefore, if for the increasing of thine -owne renowne, thou wast desirous of my death: it is no matter of -novelty, and therefore deserving the lesse mervaile, seeing men are -slaine daily, and all for one purpose or other.</p> - -<p><i>Mithridanes</i>, excusing no further his malevolent deliberation, -but rather commending the honest defence, which <i>Nathan</i> made -on his behalfe; proceeded so farre in after discoursing, as to tel him -plainely, that it did wondrously amaze him, how he durst come to -the fatall appointed place, himselfe having so exactly plotted and -contrived his owne death: whereunto <i>Nathan</i> returned this aunswere.</p> - -<p>I would not have thee <i>Mithridanes</i>, to wonder at my counsel or -determination; because, since age hath made mee Maister of mine -owne will, and I resolved to doe that, wherein thou hast begun -to follow me: never came any man to mee, whom I did not content -(if I could) in any thing he demanded of mee. It was thy fortune -to come for my life, which when I saw thee so desirous to have -it, I resolved immediately to bestow it on thee: and so much the rather, -because thou shouldst not be the onely man, that ever departed -hence, without enjoying whatsoever hee demanded. And, to -the end thou mightst the more assuredly have it, I gave thee that -advice, least by not enjoying mine, thou shouldest chance to loose -thine owne. I have had the use of it full fourescore yeares, with the -consummation of all my delights and pleasures: and well I know, -that according to the course of Nature (as it fares with other men, -and generally all things else) it cannot bee long before it must leave -mee.</p> - -<p>Wherefore, I hold it much better for me to give it away freely, -as I have alwayes done my goods and treasure; then bee curious in -keeping it, and suffer it to be taken from me (whether I will or no) -by Nature. A small gift it is, if time make me up the full summe of -an hundred yeares: how miserable is it then, to stand beholding -but for foure or five, and all of them vexation too? Take it then I intreate -thee, if thou wilt have it; for I never met with any man before -(but thy selfe) that did desire it, nor (perhaps) shall finde any other -to request it: for the longer I keepe it, the worse it wil be esteemed: -and before it grow contemptible, take it I pray thee.</p> - -<p><i>Mithridanes</i>, being exceedingly confounded with shame, bashfully -sayde: Fortune fore-fend, that I should take away a thing so -precious as your life is, or once to have so vile a thought of it as lately -I had; but rather then I would diminish one day thereof, I could -wish, that my time might more amply enlarge it. Forthwith aunswered -<i>Nathan</i>, saying. Wouldst thou (if thou couldst) shorten -thine owne dayes, onely to lengthen mine? Why then thou wouldest -have me to do that to thee, which (as yet) I never did unto any -man, namely, robbe thee, to enrich my selfe. I will enstruct thee -in a much better course, if thou wilt be advised by mee. Lusty and -young, as now thou art, thou shalt dwell heere in my house, and be -called by the name of <i>Nathan</i>. Aged, and spent with yeares, as -thou seest I am, I will goe live in thy house, and bee called by the -name of <i>Mithridanes</i>. So, both the name and place shall illustrate -thy Glorie, and I live contentedly, without the very least thought -of envie.</p> - -<p>Deare Father, answered <i>Mithridanes</i>, if I knew so well howe to -direct mine owne actions, as you doe, and alwayes have done, I -would gladly accept your most liberall offer: but because I plainlie -perceive, that my very best endeavours, must remayne darkened -by the bright renowne of <i>Nathan</i>: I will never seeke to impayre -that in another, which I cannot (by any means) increase in my selfe, -but (as you have worthily taught me) live contented with my owne -condition.</p> - -<p>After these, and many more like loving speeches had passed between -them, according as <i>Nathan</i> very instantly requested, <i>Mithridanes</i> -returned back with him to the Pallace, where many dayes he -highly honoured & respected him, comforting & counselling him, to -persever alwayes in his honourable determination. But in the end, -when <i>Mithridanes</i> could abide there no longer, because necessary -occasions called him home: he departed thence with his men, having -found by good experience, that hee could never goe beyond -<i>Nathan</i> in liberality.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Signior_Gentile_de_Carisendi_being_come_from_Modena_took_a_Gentlewoman" id="Signior_Gentile_de_Carisendi_being_come_from_Modena_took_a_Gentlewoman">Signior Gentile de Carisendi, <i>being come from</i> Modena, <i>took a Gentlewoman, -named Madam</i> Catharina, <i>forth of a grave, wherein she -was buried for dead: which act he did, in regard of his former honest -affection to the said Gentlewoman. Madame</i> Catharina <i>remaining -afterward, and delivered of a goodly Sonne: was (by</i> Signior <i>there</i> -Gentile) <i>delivered to her owne Husband, named</i> Signior Nicoluccio -Caccianimico, <i>and the young infant with her.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Fourth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is shewne, That true love hath alwayes bin, and so still is, the -occasion of many great and worthy courtesies.</i></h4> - - -<p>By judgment of all the honourable assembly, it was reputed wonderfull, -that a man should be so bountifull, as to give away his -owne life, and to his hatefull enemy. In which respect, it passed -with generall affirmation, that <i>Nathan</i> (in the vertue of liberallity) -had exceeded <i>Alphonso</i>, King of <i>Spaine</i>, but (especially) the Abbot of -<i>Clugny</i>. So, after every one had delivered their opinion, the King, -turning himselfe to Madame <i>Lauretta</i>, gave her such a signe, as well -instructed her understanding, that she should be the next in order, -whereto she gladly yeelding, began in this manner.</p> - -<p>Youthfull Ladies, the discourses already past, have been so worthy -and magnificent, yea, reaching to such a height of glorious -splendour; as (me thinkes) there remaineth no more matter, for us -that are yet to speake, whereby to enlarge so famous an Argument, -and in such manner as it ought to be: except we lay hold on the -actions of love, wherein is never any want of subject, it is so faire -and spacious a field to walke in. Wherefore, as well in behalfe of -the one, as advancement of the other, whereto our instant age is -most of all inclined: I purpose to acquaint you with a generous -and magnificent act, of an amourous Gentleman, which when it -shall be duely considered on, perhaps will appeare equall to any of -the rest. At least, if it may passe for currant, that men may give away -their treasures, forgive mighty injuries, and lay downe life it selfe, -honour and renowne (which is farre greater) to infinite dangers, only -to attaine any thing esteemed and affected.</p> - -<p>Understand then (Gracious hearers) that in <i>Bologna</i>, a very famous -City of <i>Lombardie</i>, there lived sometime a Knight, most highly -respected for his vertues, named Signior <i>Gentile de Carisendi</i>, -who (in his younger dayes) was enamoured of a Gentlewoman, called -Madam <i>Catharina</i>, the Wife of Signior <i>Nicoluccio Caccianimico</i>. -And because during the time of his amourous pursuite, he found -but a sorry enterchange of affection from the Lady; hee went (as -hopelesse of any successe) to be Potestate of <i>Modena</i>, whereto he -was called by place and order.</p> - -<p>At the same time, Signior <i>Nicoluccio</i> being absent from <i>Bologna</i>, -and his Lady at a Farme-house of his in the Countrey (about three -miles distant from the City) because she was great with child, and -somewhat neere the time of her teeming: it came to passe, that -some dangerous accident befell her, which was so powerfull in operation, -as no signe of life appeared remained in her, but she was -reputed (even in the judgement of the best Phisitians, whereof she -wanted no attendance) to be verily dead. And because in the opinion -of her parents and neerest kinred, the time for her deliverance -was yet so farre off, as the Infant within her, wanted much of a perfect -creature: they made the lesse mourning; but in the next -Church, as also the vault belonging to her Ancestors, they gave her -buriall very speedily.</p> - -<p>Which tydings comming to the hearing of Signior <i>Gentile</i>, by -one that was his endeared friend: Although (while she lived) he -could never be gracious in her favour, yet her so sudden death did -greatly grieve him, whereupon he discoursed in this sort with himselfe. -Deare Madame <i>Catharina</i>, I am not a little sorry for thy -death, although (during thy life-time) I was scarcely worthy of one -kind looke: Yet now being dead, thou canst not prohibite me, but -I may robbe thee of a kisse. No sooner had hee spoke the words, -but it beeing then night, and taking such order, as none might -know of his departure: hee mounted on horse-backe, accompanied -onely with one servant, and stayed no where, till hee -came to the vault where the Lady was buried. Which when -he had opened, with instruments convenient for the purpose, he -descended downe into the vault, and kneeled downe by the Beere -whereon she lay, and in her wearing garments, according to the usuall -manner, with teares trickling mainly downe his cheekes, he bestowed -infinite sweet kisses on her.</p> - -<p>But as we commonly see, that mens desires are never contented, -but still will presume on further advantages, especially such as love -entirely: so fared it with <i>Gentile</i>, who being once minded to get -him gone, as satisfied with the oblation of his kisses; would needs -yet step backe againe, saying. Why should I not touch her yvory -breast, the Adamant that drew all desires to adore her? Ah let me -touch it now, for never hereafter can I bee halfe so happy. Overcome -with this alluring appetite, gently he laid his hand upon her -breast, with the like awefull respect, as if she were living, and holding -it so an indifferent while: either he felt, or his imagination so -perswaded him, the heart of the Lady to beate and pant. Casting -off all fond feare, and the warmth of his increasing the motion: his -inward soule assured him, that she was not dead utterly, but had -some small sense of life remaining in her, whereof he would needs -be further informed.</p> - -<p>So gently as possible he could, and with the helpe of his man, he -tooke her forth of the monument, & laying her softly on his horse -before him, conveighed her closely to his house in <i>Bologna</i>. Signior -<i>Gentile</i> had a worthy Lady to his Mother, a woman of great wisdome -and vertue, who understanding by her Sonne, how matters -had happened; moved with compassion, and suffering no one in the -house to know what was done, made a good fire, and very excellent -Bathe, which recalled back againe wrong-wandering life. Then -fetching a vehement sigh, opening her eyes, & looking very strangely -about her, she said. Alas! where am I now? whereto the good -old Lady kindly replyed, saying. Comfort your selfe Madame, for -you are in a good place.</p> - -<p>Her spirits being in better manner met together, and she still gazing -every way about her, not knowing well where she was, and -seeing Signior <i>Gentile</i> standing before her: he entreated his mother -to tell her by what meanes she came thither; which the good old -Lady did, <i>Gentile</i> himselfe helping to relate the whole history. A -while she grieved and lamented, but afterward gave them most -hearty thankes, humbly requesting, that, in regard of the love he -had formerly borne her, in his house she might finde no other usage, -varying from the honour of her selfe and her Husband, and -when day was come, to be conveighed home to her owne house. -Madame, answered Signior <i>Gentile</i>, whatsoever I sought to gaine -from you in former dayes, I never meane, either here, or any where -else, to motion any more. But seeing it hath been my happy fortune, -to prove the blessed means, of reducing you from death to life: -you shal find no other entertainment here, then as if you were mine -owne Sister. And yet the good deed which I have this night done -for you, doth well deserve some courteous requitall: in which -respect, I would have you not to deny me one favour, which I will -presume to crave of you. Whereto the Lady lovingly replyed, -that she was willing to grant it; provided, it were honest, and in her -power: whereto Signior <i>Gentile</i> thus answered.</p> - -<p>Madame, your parents, kindred and friends, and generally all -throughout <i>Bologna</i>, doe verily thinke you to be dead, wherefore -there is not any one, that will make any inquisition after you: in -which regard, the favour I desire from you, is no more but to abide -here secretly with my Mother, untill such time as I returne from -<i>Modena</i>, which shall be very speedily. The occasion why I move -this motion, aymeth at this end, that in presence of the chiefest persons -of our City, I may make a gladsome present of you to your -Husband. The Lady knowing her selfe highly beholding to the -Knight, and the request he made to be very honest: disposed her -selfe to doe as he desired (although she earnestly longed, to glad her -parents and kindred with seeing her alive) and made her promise -him on her faith, to effect it in such manner, as he pleased to appoint -and give her direction.</p> - -<p>Scarcely were these words concluded, but she felt the custome -of women to come upon her, with the paines and throwes incident -to childing: wherefore, with helpe of the aged Lady, Mother to -Signior <i>Gentile</i>, it was not long before her deliverance of a goodly -Sonne, which greatly augmented the joy of her and <i>Gentile</i>, who -tooke order, that all things belonging to a Woman in such a case, -were not wanting, but she was as carefully respected, even as if she -had been his owne Wife. Secretly he repaired to <i>Modena</i>, where -having given direction for his place of authority; he returned back -againe to <i>Bologna</i>, and there made preparation for a great and solemne -feast, appointing who should be his invited guests, the very -chiefest persons in <i>Bologna</i>, and (among them) Signior <i>Nicoluccio -Caccianimico</i> the especiall man.</p> - -<p>After he was dismounted from horsebacke, and found so good -company attending for him (the Lady also, more faire and healthfull -then ever, and the Infant lively disposed) he sate downe at the Table -with his guests, causing them to be served in most magnificent -manner, with plenty of all delicates that could be devised, and never -before was there such a Joviall feast. About the ending of dinner, -closely he made the Lady acquainted with his further intention, -and likewise in what order every thing should be done, which -being effected, he returned to his company, & used these speeches.</p> - -<p>Honourable friends, I remember a discourse sometime made -unto me, concerning the Countrey of <i>Persia</i>, and a kind of custome -there observed, not to be misliked in mine opinion. When any one -intended to honour his friend in effectuall manner, he invited him -home to his house, and there would shew him the thing, which -with greatest love he did respect; were it Wife, Friend, Sonne, -Daughter, or any thing else whatsoever; wherewithall hee spared -not to affirme, that as he shewed him those choyce delights, the like -view he should have of his heart, if with any possibility it could be -done; and the very same custome I meane now to observe here in -our City. You have vouchsafed to honour me with your presence, -at this poore homely dinner of mine, and I will welcome you after -the <i>Persian</i> manner, in shewing you the Jewell, which (above all -things else in the world) I ever have most respectively esteemed. -But before I doe it, I crave your favourable opinions in a doubt, -which I will plainely declare unto you.</p> - -<p>If any man having in his house a good and faithfull servant, who -falling into extremity of sickenesse, shall be throwne forth into the -open street, without any care or pitty taken on him; A stranger -chanceth to passe by, and (moved with compassion of his weakenesse) -carryeth him home to his owne house, where using all charitable -diligence, and not sparing any cost, he recovereth the sicke -person to his former health. I now desire to know, if keeping the -said restored person, and imploying him about his owne businesse: -the first Master (by pretending his first right) may lawfully complaine -of the second, and yeeld him backe againe to the first master, -albeit he doe make challenge of him?</p> - -<p>All the Gentlemen, after many opinions passing among them, -agreed altogether in one sentence, and gave charge to Signior <i>Nicoluccio -Caccianimico</i>, (because he was an excellent and elegant -speaker) to give answere for them all. First, he commended the custome -observed in <i>Persia</i>, saying, he jumpt in opinion with all the -rest, that the first Master had no right at all to the servant, having -not onely (in such necessity) forsaken him, but also cast him forth into -the comfortlesse street. But for the benefits and mercy extended -to him; it was more then manifest, that the recovered person, was -become justly servant to the second Master, and in detayning him -from the first, hee did not offer him any injury at all. The whole -Company sitting at the Table (being all very wise & worthy men) -gave their verdict likewise with the confession of Signior <i>Nicoluccio -Caccianimico</i>. Which answere did not a little please the Knight; -and so much the rather, because <i>Nicoluccio</i> had pronounced it, affirming -himselfe to be of the same minde.</p> - -<p>So, sitting in a pretended musing a while, at length he said. My -honourable guests, it is now more then high time, that I should doe -you such honour, as you have most justly deserved, by performing -the promise made unto you. Then calling two of his servants, he -sent them to Madame <i>Catharina</i> (whom he had caused to adorne -her self in excellent manner) entreating her, that she would be pleased -to grace his guests with her presence. <i>Catharina</i>, having deckt -her child in costly habiliments, layed it in her armes, and came with -the servants into the dyning Hall, and sate down (as the Knight had -appointed) at the upper end of the Table, and then Signior <i>Gentile</i> -spake thus. Behold, worthy Gentlemen, this is the Jewell which I -have most affected, and intend to love none other in the world; be -you my Judges, whether I have just occasion to doe so, or no? The -Gentlemen saluting her with respective reverence, said to the -Knight; that he had great reason to affect her: And viewing her -advisedly, many of them thought her to be the very same woman -(as indeed she was) but that they beleeved her to be dead.</p> - -<p>But above all the rest <i>Nicoluccio Caccianimico</i> could never be satisfied -with beholding her; and, enflamed with earnest desire, to -know what she was, could not refraine (seeing the Knight was gone -out of the roome) but demaunded of her, whether she were of <i>Bologna</i>, -or a stranger? when the Lady heard her selfe to be thus questioned, and -by her Husband, it seemed painefull to her, to containe -from answering: Neverthelesse, to perfect the Knights intended -purpose, she sate silent. Others demaunded of her, whether the -sweet Boy were hers, or no; and some questioned, if she were <i>Gentiles</i> -Wife, or no, or else his Kinsewoman; to all which demaunds, -she returned not any answere. But when the Knight came to them -againe, some of them said to him. Sir, this woman is a goodly creature, -but she appeareth to be dumbe, which were great pitty, if it -should be so. Gentlemen (quoth he) it is no small argument of her -vertue, to sit still and silent at this instant. Tell us then (said they) of -whence, and what she is. Therein (quoth he) I will quickely resolve -you, upon your conditionall promise: that none of you do remove -from his place, whatsoever shall be said or done, untill I have fully -delivered my minde. Every one bound himselfe by solemne promise, -to perform what he had appointed, and the Tables being voided, -as also the Carpets laid; then the Knight (sitting downe by the -Lady) thus began.</p> - -<p>Worthy Gentlemen, this Lady is that true and faithfull servant, -whereof I moved the question to you, whom I tooke out of the cold -street, where her parents, kindred and friends (making no account at -all of her) threw her forth, as a thing vile and unprofitable. Neverthelesse, -such hath been my care and cost, that I have rescued her -out of deaths griping power; and, in a meere charitable disposition, -which honest affection caused me to beare her; of a body, full -of terror & affrighting (as then she was) I have caused her to become -thus lovely as you see. But because you may more apparantly discerne, -in what manner this occasion happened; I will lay it open to -you in more familiar manner. Then he began the whole history, -from the originall of his unbeseeming affection to her (in regard she -was a worthy mans wife) and consequently, how all had happened -to the instant houre, to the no meane admiration of all the hearers, -adding withall. Now Gentlemen (quoth he) if you varry not from -your former opinion, and especially Signior <i>Nicoluccio Caccianimico</i>: -this Lady (by good right) is mine, and no man else, by any -just title, can lay any claime to her.</p> - -<p>All sate silent, without answering one word, as expecting what -he intended further to say: but in the meane while, <i>Nicoluccio</i>, the -parents and kindred, but chiefely the Lady her selfe, appeared as -halfe melted into teares with weeping. But Signior <i>Gentile</i>, starting -up from the Table, taking the Infant in his arme, and leading -the Lady by the hand, going to <i>Nicoluccio</i>, thus spake. Rise Sir, I will -not give thee thy wife, whom both her kindred and thine, threw -forth into the street: but I will bestow this Lady on thee, being my -Gossip, and this sweet Boy my God-sonne, who was (as I am verily -perswaded) begotten by thee, I standing witnesse for him at the -Font of Baptisme, and give him mine owne name <i>Gentile</i>. Let me -entreat thee, that, although she hath lived here in mine house, for the -space of three monethes, she should not be lesse welcome to thee, -then before: for I sweare to thee upon my soule, that my former -affection to her (how unjust soever) was the onely meanes of preserving -her life: and more honestly she could not live, with Father, -Mother, or thy selfe, then she hath done here with mine owne Mother.</p> - -<p>Having thus spoken, he turned to the Lady, saying. Madame, I -now discharge you of all promises made me, delivering you to your -Husband franke and free: And when he had given him the Lady, -and the child in his armes, he returned to his place, and sate downe -againe. <i>Nicoluccio</i>, with no meane joy and hearty contentment -received both his wife and childe, being before farre from expectation -of such an admirable comfort; returning the Knight infinite -thankes (as all the rest of the Company did the like) who could not -refraine from weeping for meere joy, for such a strange and wonderful -accident: everyone highly commending <i>Gentile</i>, & such also -as chanced to heare thereof. The Lady was welcommed home to -her owne house, with many moneths of Joviall feasting, and as she -passed through the streets, all beheld her with admiration, to be so -happily recovered from her grave. Signior <i>Gentile</i> lived long after, -a loyall friend to <i>Nicoluccio</i> and his Lady, and all that were well-willers -to them.</p> - -<p>What thinke you now Ladies? Can you imagine, because a -King gave away his Crowne and Scepter; and an Abbot (without -any cost to himselfe) reconciled a Malefactor to the Pope; and an -old idle-headed man, yeelding to the mercy of his enemy: that all -those actions are comparable to this of Signior <i>Gentile</i>? Youth and -ardent affection, gave him a just and lawfull title, to her who was -free (by imagined death) from Husbands, Parents, and all friends -else, she being so happily wonne into his owne possession. Yet honesty -not onely over-swayed the heate of desire, which in many -men is violent and immoderate: but with a bountifull and liberall -soule, that which he coveted beyond all hopes else, and had within -his owne command; he freely gave away. Beleeve me (bright -Beauties) not any of the other (in a true and unpartiall judgement) -are worthy to be equalled with this, or stiled by the name of magnificent -actions.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Madame_Dianora_the_Wife_of_Signior_Gilberto_being_immodestly" id="Madame_Dianora_the_Wife_of_Signior_Gilberto_being_immodestly"><i>Madame</i> Dianora, <i>the Wife of Signior</i> Gilberto, <i>being immodestly -affected by Signior</i> Ansaldo, <i>to free herselfe from his tedious importunity, -she appointed him to performe (in her judgement) an act -of impossibility, namely, to give her a Garden, as plentifully stored -with fragrant Flowers in January, as in the flourishing moneth of</i> -May. Ansaldo, <i>by meanes of a bond which he made to a Magitian, -performed her request. Signior</i> Gilberto, <i>the Ladyes Husband, -gave consent, that his Wife should fulfill her promise made to</i> -Ansaldo. <i>Who hearing the bountifull mind of her Husband; released -her of her promise: And the Magitian likewise discharged -Signior</i> Ansaldo, <i>without taking any thing of him.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The fift Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Admonishing all Ladies and Gentlewomen, that are desirous to preserve -their chastity, free from all blemish and taxation: to make no -promise of yeelding to any, under a compact or covenant, how impossible -soever it may seeme to be.</i></h4> - - -<p>Not any one in all the Company, but extolled the worthy -Act of Signior <i>Gentile</i> to the skies; till the King gave -command to Madame <i>Æmillia</i>, that she should follow -next with her Tale, who boldly stepping up, began in this order.</p> - -<p>Gracious Ladies, I thinke there is none heere present among us, -but (with good reason) may maintaine, that Signiour <i>Gentile</i> performed -a magnificent deede: but whosoever saith, it is impossible -to do more; perhaps is ignorant in such actions, as can and may be -done, as I meane to make good unto you, by a Novell not over-long -or tedious.</p> - -<p>The Countrey of <i>Fretulium</i>, better knowne by the name of <i>Forum -Julii</i>; although it be subject to much cold, yet it is pleasant, in -regard of many goodly Mountaines, Rivers, and cleare running -Springs, wherewith it is not meanly stored. Within those Territories, -is a City called <i>Udina</i>, where sometime lived a faire and Noble -Lady, named Madame <i>Dianora</i>, Wife to a rich and woorthie -Knight, called Signior <i>Gilberto</i>, a man of very great fame and merite.</p> - -<p>This beautifull Lady, beeing very modest and vertuously inclined, -was highly affected by a Noble Baron of those parts, tearmed -by the name of Signior <i>Ansaldo Gradense</i>, a man of very great spirit, -bountifull, active in Armes, and yet very affable and courteous, -which caused him to be the better respected. His love to this Lady -was extraordinary, hardly to bee contained within any moderate -compasse, striving to bee in like manner affected of her: to which -end, she wanted no daily solicitings, Letters, Ambassages and Love-tokens, -all proving to no purpose.</p> - -<p>This vertuous Lady, being wearied with his often temptations, -and seeing, that by denying whatsoever he demanded, yet he wold -not give over his suite, but so much the more importunately stil pursued -her: began to bethinke herselfe, how she might best be rid of -him, by imposing some such taske upon him, as should bee impossible -(in her opinion) for him to effect. An olde woman, whom hee -imployed for his continuall messenger to her, as shee came one day -about her ordinary errand, with her she communed in this manner. -Good woman (quoth she) thou hast so often assured me, that Signior -<i>Ansaldo</i> loveth me above all other Women in the world, offering -me wonderfull gifts and presents in his name, which I have alwayes -refused, and so stil wil do, in regard I am not to be woon by -any such allurements: yet if I could be soundly perswaded, that his -affection is answerable to thy peremptory protestations, I shoulde -(perhaps) be the sooner wonne, to listen to his suite in milder manner, -then hitherto I have done. Wherefore, if he wil give me assurance, -to perform such a businesse as I mean to enjoyne him, he shall -the speedier heare better answer from me, and I wil confirme it with -mine oath.</p> - -<p>Wonderfully pleased was Mistresse <i>Maquerella</i>, to heare a reply -of such comfortable hope; and therefore desired the Lady, to tel hir -what she wold have done. Listen to me wel (answerd Madam <i>Dianora</i>) -the matter which I would have him to effect for me, is; without -the wals of our City, and during the month of Januarie nexte -ensuing, to provide me a Garden, as fairely furnished with all kind -of fragrant flowers, as the flourishing month of May can yeelde no -better. If he be not able to accomplish this imposition, then I command -him, never hereafter to solicite me any more, either by thee, -or any other whatsoever; for, if he do importune me afterward, as -hitherto I have concealed his secret conspiring, both from my husband, -and all my friends; so will I then lay his dishonest suite open -to the world, that he may receive punishment accordingly, for offering -to wrong a Gentleman in his wife.</p> - -<p>When Signior <i>Ansaldo</i> heard her demand, and the offer beside -thereuppon made him (although it seemed no easie matter; but a -thing meerly impossible to be done) he considered advisedly, that -she made this motion to no other end, but onely to bereave him of -all his hope, ever to enjoy what so earnestly hee desired: neverthelesse, -he would not so give it utterly over, but would needs approve -what could be done. Heereupon, hee sent into divers partes of the -world, to find out any one that was able to advise him in this doubtfull -case. In the end, one was brought to him, who beeing well recompenced -for his paines, by the Art of Nigromancie would undertake -to do it. With him Signior <i>Ansaldo</i> covenanted, binding himselfe -to pay a great summe of mony, upon performance of so rare a -deed, awaiting (in hopefull expectation) for the month of Januaries -comming.</p> - -<p>It being come, and the weather then in extreamity of cold, every -thing being covered with ice and snow; the Magitian prevailed so -by his Art, that after the Christmas Holy dayes were past, and the -Calends of January entred: in one night, and without the Cittie -Wals, the goodliest Garden of flowers and fruites, was sodainely -sprung up, as (in opinion of such as beheld it) never was the like seen -before. Now Ladies, I think I need not demand the question, whether -Signior <i>Ansaldo</i> were wel pleased, or no, who going to beholde -it, saw it most plenteously stored, with al kind of fruit trees, flowers, -herbes and plants, as no one could be named, that was wanting in -this artificiall garden. And having gathered some pretty store of -them, secretly he sent them to Madam <i>Dianora</i>, inviting hir to come -see her Garden, perfected according to her owne desire, and uppon -view thereof, to confesse the integrity of his love to her; considering -and remembring withall, the promise shee had made him under solemne -oath, that she might be reputed for a woman of her word.</p> - -<p>When the Lady beheld the fruites and flowers, and heard many -other thinges re-counted, so wonderfully growing in the same -Garden: she began to repent her rash promise made; yet not withstanding -her repentance, as Women are covetous to see all rarities; -so, accompanied with divers Ladies and Gentlewomen more, she -went to see the Garden; and having commended it with much admiration, -she returned home againe, the most sorrowfull Woman -as ever lived, considering what she had tyed her selfe to, for enjoying -this Garden. So excessive grew her griefe and affliction, that it -could not be so clouded or concealed: but her Husband tooke notice -of it, and would needs understand the occasion thereof. Long -the Lady (in regard of shame and modesty) sate without returning -any answer; but being in the end constrained, she disclosd the whole -History to him.</p> - -<p>At the first, Signior <i>Gilberto</i> waxed exceeding angry, but when -he further considered withall, the pure and honest intention of his -Wife; wisely he pacified his former distemper, and saide. <i>Dianora</i>, -it is not the part of a wise and honest woman, to lend an eare to ambassages -of such immodest nature, much lesse to compound or make -agreement for her honesty, with any person, under any condition -whatsoever. Those perswasions which the heart listeneth to, by allurement -of the eare, have greater power then many do imagine, & -nothing is so uneasie or difficult, but in a lovers judgement it appeareth -possible. Ill didst thou therefore first of all to listen, but worse -(afterward) to contract.</p> - -<p>But, because I know the purity of thy soule, I wil yeelde (to disoblige -thee of thy promise) as perhaps no wise man else would do: -mooved thereto onely by feare of the Magitian, who seeing Signior -<i>Ansaldo</i> displeased, because thou makest a mockage of him; will -do some such violent wrong to us, as we shal be never able to recover. -Wherefore, I would have thee go to Signior <i>Ansaldo</i>, and if -thou canst (by any meanes) obtaine of him, the safe-keeping of thy -honour, and full discharge of thy promise; it shal be an eternall fame -to thee, and the crowne of a most victorious conquest. But if it must -needs be otherwise, lend him thy body onely for once, but not thy -wil: for actions committed by constraint, wherein the will is no -way guilty, are halfe pardonable by the necessity.</p> - -<p>Madame <i>Dianora</i>, hearing her husbands words, wept exceedingly, -and avouched, that shee had not deserved any such especiall -grace of him, and therefore she would rather dye, then doe it. Neverthelesse, -it was the wil of her Husband to have it so, and therefore -(against her wil) she gave consent. The next morning, by the -breake of day, <i>Dianora</i> arose, and attiring her selfe in her very meanest -garments, with two servingmen before her, and a waiting Woman -following, she went to the lodging of Signior <i>Ansaldo</i>, who -hearing that Madam <i>Dianora</i> was come to visite him, greatly mervailed, -and being risen, he called the Magitian to him, saying. Come -go with me, and see what effect will follow upon thine Art. And being -come into her presence, without any base or inordinate appetite, -he did her humble reverence, embracing her honestly, and taking -her into a goodly Chamber, where a faire fire was readilie -prepared, causing her to sit downe by him, he sayde unto her as followeth.</p> - -<p>Madam, I humbly intreat you to resolve me, if the affection I have -long time borne you, and yet do stil, deserve any recompence at all: -you would be pleased then to tel me truly, the occasion of your instant -comming hither, and thus attended as you are. <i>Dianora</i>, blushing -with modest shame, and the teares trickling mainly down her -faire cheekes, thus answered. Signior <i>Ansaldo</i>, not for any Love I -beare you, or care of my faithfull promise made to you, but onely -by the command of my husband (who respecting more the paynes -and travels of your inordinate love, then his owne reputation and -honour, or mine;) hath caused me to come hither: and by vertue of -his command, am ready (for once onely) to fulfill your pleasure, but -far from any will or consent in my selfe. If Signior <i>Ansaldo</i> were abashed -at the first, hee began now to be more confounded with admiration, -when he heard the Lady speake in such strange manner: & -being much moved with the liberall command of her husband, he -began to alter his inflamed heate, into most honourable respect and -compassion, returning her this answer.</p> - -<p>Most noble Lady, the Gods forbid (if it be so as you have sayd) -that I should (Villain-like) soile the honour of him, that takes such -unusuall compassion of my unchaste appetite. And therefore, you -may remaine heere so long as you please, in no other condition, but -as mine owne naturall borne Sister; and likewise, you may depart -freely when you will: conditionally, that (on my behalfe) you render -such thankes to your husband, as you thinke convenient for his -great bounty towards me, accounting me for ever heereafter, as his -loyall Brother and faithfull servant. <i>Dianora</i> having well observed -his answer, her heart being ready to mount out at her mouth with -joy, said. All the world could never make mee beleeve (considering -your honourable minde and honesty) that it would happen otherwise -to me, then now it hath done; for which noble courtesie, I will -continually remaine obliged to you. So, taking her leave, she returned -home honourably attended to her husband, and relating to him -what had happened, it proved the occasion of begetting intire love -and friendship, betweene himselfe and the Noble Lord <i>Ansaldo</i>.</p> - -<p>Now concerning the skilfull Magitian, to whom <i>Ansaldo</i> meant -to give the bountifull recompence agreed on betweene them, hee -having seene the strange liberality, which the husband expressed to -Signior <i>Ansaldo</i>, and that of <i>Ansaldo</i> to the Lady, hee presently -saide. Great <i>Jupiter</i> strike me dead with thunder, having my selfe -seene a husband so liberall of his honour, and you Sir of true noble -kindnesse, if I should not be the like of my recompence: for, perceiving -it to be so worthily imployed, I am well contented that you -shal keepe it. The Noble Lord was modestly ashamed, and strove -(so much as in him lay) that he should take all, or the greater part -thereof: but seeing he laboured meerly in vaine, after the third day -was past, and the Magitian had destroyed the Garden againe, hee -gave him free liberty to depart, quite controlling all fond and -unchaste affection in himselfe, either towards <i>Dianora</i>, or any Lady -else, and living (ever after) as best becommeth any Nobleman -to do.</p> - -<p>What say you now Ladies? Shal wee make any account of the -woman wel-neere dead, and the kindnesse growne cold in Signiour -<i>Gentile</i>, by losse of his former hopes, comparing them with the liberality -of Signior <i>Ansaldo</i>, affecting more fervently, then ever the -other did? And being (beyond hope) possessed of the booty, which -(above all things else in the world) he most desired to have, to part -with it meerly in fond compassion? I protest (in my judgement) the -one is no way comparable to the other; that of <i>Gentile</i>, with this last -of Signior <i>Ansaldo</i>.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Victorious_King_Charles_sirnamed_the_Aged_and_first_of_that_Name" id="Victorious_King_Charles_sirnamed_the_Aged_and_first_of_that_Name"><i>Victorious</i> King Charles, <i>sirnamed the Aged, and first of that Name, -fell in love with a young Maiden, named</i> Genevera, <i>daughter to an -ancient Knight, called Signior</i> Neri degli Uberti. <i>And waxing ashamed -of his amorous folly, caused both</i> Genevera, <i>and her fayre -Sister</i> Isotta, <i>to be joyned in marriage with two Noble Gentlemen; -the one named</i> Signior Maffeo da Palizzi, <i>and the other,</i> Signior -Gulielmo della Magna.</a></h4> - -<h2>The Sixt Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Sufficiently declaring, that how mighty soever the power of Love is: -yet a magnanimous and truly generous heart, it can by no meanes -fully conquer.</i></h4> - - -<p>Who is able to expresse ingeniously, the diversity of opinions, -which hapned among the Ladies, in censuring on the -act of Madame <i>Dianora</i>, and which of them was most liberall, -either Signior <i>Gilberto</i> the Husband, Lord <i>Ansaldo</i> the importunate -suiter, or the Magitian, expecting to bee bountifully rewarded. -Surely, it is a matter beyond my capacity: but after the -King had permitted their disputation a long while, looking on Madam -<i>Fiammetta</i>, he commanded that she should report her Novel -to make an end of their controversie; and she (without any further -delaying) thus began. I did alwaies (Noble Ladies) hold it fit and -decent, that in such an assembly as this of ours is, every one ought -to speake so succinctly and plainly: that the obscure understanding, -concerning the matters spoken of, should have no cause of disputation. -For disputes do much better become the Colledges of Scholars, -then to be among us, who hardly can manage our Distaves or -Samplers. And therefore I, doe intend to relate something, which -(peradventure) might appeare doubtfull: will forbeare (seeing you -in such a difference; for that which hath bin spoken alreadie) to use -any difficult discourse; but will speake of one, a man of no meane -ranke or quality, being both a valiant and vertuous King, and what -he did, without any impeach or blemish to his honour.</p> - -<p>I make no doubt, but you have often heard report, of king <i>Charles</i> -the Aged, and first of that name, by reason of his magnificent enterprises, -as also his most glorious victory, which he obtaind against -King <i>Manfred</i>, when the <i>Ghibellines</i> were expulsed foorth of <i>Florence</i>, -and the <i>Guelphes</i> returned thither againe. By which occasion, -an ancient knight, named Signior <i>Neri degli Uberti</i>; forsaking -then the City, with all his family and great store of wealth, woulde -live under any other obedience, then the awful power or command -of King <i>Charles</i>. And coveting to be in some solitary place, where -he might finish the remainder of his dayes in peace, he went to <i>Castello -da Mare</i>; where, about a Bow shoote distance from all other -dwelling houses, hee bought a parcel of ground, plentifully stored -with variety of Trees, bearing Olives, Chesnuts, Orenges, Lemons, -Pomcitrons, and other excellent frutages, wherewith the Countrey -flourisheth abundantly. There he built a very faire and commodious -house, and planted (close by it) a pleasant Garden, in the midst -whereof, because he had great plenty of water: according as other -men use to do, being in the like case so wel provided; he made a very -goodly Pond, which forthwith had all kinde of Fish swimming -in it, it being his daily care and endevour, to tend his Garden, and -encrease his Fish-pond.</p> - -<p>It fortuned, that King <i>Charles</i> (in the Summer time) for his pleasure -and recreation, went to repose himselfe (for some certayne -dayes) at <i>Castello de Mare</i>, where having heard report of the beautie -and singularitie of Signiour <i>Neries</i> Garden; hee grew very desirous -to see it. But when he understoode to whome it belonged, -then he entred into consideration with himselfe, that hee was an ancient -Knight, maintaining a contrarie faction to his: wherefore, he -thought it fit to goe in some familiar manner, and with no trayne -attending on him. Whereupon he sent him word, that he wold come -to visit him, with foure Gentlemen onely in his companie, meaning -to sup with him in his Garden the next night ensuing. The newes -was very welcome to <i>Signior Neri</i>, who took order in costly manner -for all things to bee done, entertaining the King most joyfullly into -his beautifull Garden.</p> - -<p>When the King had survayed all, and the house likewise, he commended -it beyond all other comparison, and the Tables being placed -by the Ponds side, he washed his hands therein, & then sat down -at the table, commanding the Count, Sir <i>Guy de Montforte</i> (who -was one of them which came in his company) to sitte downe by -him, and Signior <i>Neri</i> on his other side. As for the other three of -the traine, hee commaunded them to attend on his service, as Signior -<i>Neri</i> had given order. There wanted no exquisite Viandes -and excellent Wines, all performed in most decent manner, and -without the least noise or disturbance, wherein the King tooke no -little delight.</p> - -<p>Feeding thus in this contented manner, and facying the solitude -of the place: sodainly entred into the garden, two young Damosels, -each aged about some fifteene yeares, their haire resembling wyars -of Gold, and curiously curled, having Chaplets (made like provinciall -Crownes) on their heades, and their delicate faces, expressing -them to be rather Angels, then mortall creatures, such was the appearance -of their admired beauty. Their under-garments were of -costly Silke, yet white as the finest snow, framed (from the girdle -upward) close to their bodies, but spreading largely downward, like -the extendure of a Pavillion, and so descending to the feet. She that -first came in sight, caried on her shoulder a couple of fishing Netts, -which she held fast with her left hand, and in the right she carryed a -long staffe. The other following her, had on her left shoulder a Frying-pan, -and under the same arme a small Faggot of woodde, with a -Trevit in her hand; and in the other hand a pot of Oyle, as also a -brand of fire flaming.</p> - -<p>No sooner did the King behold them, but he greatly wondered -what they should be; and, without uttering one word, attended to -listen what they wold say. Both the young damosels, when they were -come before the King, with modest and bashfull gesture, they performed -very humble reverence to him, and going to the place of entrance -into the Pond, she who held the Trevit, set it downe on the -ground, with the other things also; and taking the staffe which the -other Damosell carried: they both went into the Pond, the water -whereof reached so high as to their bosomes. One of the Servants -to Signior <i>Neri</i>, presently kindled the fire, setting the Trevit over -it, and putting Oyle into the Frying-panne, held it uppon the Trevit, -awaiting untill the Damosels should cast him uppe Fish. One -of them did beate a place with the staffe, where she was assured of -the Fishes resort, and the other hadde lodged the Nets so conveniently, -as they quickly caught great store of Fish, to the Kings high -contentment, who observed their behaviour very respectively.</p> - -<p>As the Fishes were throwne up to the servant, alive as they were, -he tooke the best and fairest of them, and brought them to the -Table, where they skipt and mounted before the King, Count <i>Guy -de Montfort</i> and the Father: some leaping from the Table into the -Pond againe, and others, the King (in a pleasing humour) voluntarily -threw backe to the Damosels. Jesting and sporting in this manner, -till the servant had drest divers of them in exquisite order, and -served them to the Table, according as Signior <i>Neri</i> had ordained. -When the Damosels saw the Fishes service performed, and perceived -that they had fished sufficiently: they came forth of the water, -their garments then (being wet) hanging close about them, even as -if they hid no part of their bodies. Each having taken those things -againe, which at first they brought with them, and saluting the king -in like humility as they did before, returned home to the mansion -house.</p> - -<p>The King and Count likewise, as also the other attending Gentlemen, -having duely considered the behaviour of the Damosels: commended -extraordinarily their beauty and faire feature, with those -other perfections of Nature so gloriously shining in them. But (beyond -all the rest) the King was boundlesse in his praises given of -them, having observed their going into the water, the equall carriage -there of them both, their comming forth, and gracious demeanor -at their departing (yet neither knowing of whence, or what they -were) he felt his affection very violently flamed, and grew into such -an amourous desire to them both, not knowing which of them -pleased him most, they so choisely resembled one another in all -things.</p> - -<p>But after he had dwelt long enough upon these thoughts, he turned -him selfe to Signior <i>Neri</i>, and demanded of him, what Damosels -they were. Sir (answered <i>Neri</i>) they are my Daughters, both -brought into the world at one birth, and Twinnes, the one -being named <i>Genevera</i> the faire, and the other <i>Isotta</i> the amiable. -The King began againe to commend them both, and gave him advise -to get them both married: wherein he excused himselfe, alleadging, -that he wanted power to doe it. At the same time instant, -no other service remaining to be brought to the table, except Fruit -and Cheese, the two Damosels returned againe, attyred in goodly -Roabes of Carnation Sattin, formed after the Turkish fashion, carrying -two fayre Silver dishes in their hands, filled with divers delicate -Fruits, such as the season then afforded, setting them on the -Table before the King. Which being done, they retyred a little -backeward, and with sweet melodious voyces, sung a ditty, beginning -in this manner.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Where Love presumeth into place:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let no one sing in Loves disgrace.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>So sweet and pleasing seemed the Song to the King (who tooke -no small delight, both to heare and behold the Damosels) even as if -all the Hirarchies of Angels, were descended from the Heavens to -sing before him. No sooner was the Song ended, but (humbly on -their knees) they craved favour of the King for their departing. -Now, although their departure was greatly grieving to him, yet (in -outward appearance) he seemed willing to grant it.</p> - -<p>When Supper was concluded, and the King and his Company -remounted on horsebacke: thankefully departing from Signior -<i>Neri</i>, the King returned to his lodging, concealing there closely his -affection to himselfe, and whatsoever important affaires happened: -yet he could not forget the beauty, & gracious behaviour of <i>Genevera</i> -the faire (for whose sake he loved her Sister likewise) but became -so linked to her in vehement manner, as he had no power to think on -any thing else. Pretending other urgent occasions, he fell into -great familiarity with Signior <i>Neri</i>, visiting very often his goodly -Garden; onely to see his faire Daughter <i>Genevera</i>, the Adamant -which drew him thither.</p> - -<p>When he felt his amourous assaults, to exceed all power of longer -sufferance: he resolved determinately with himselfe, (being -unprovided of any better meanes) to take her away from her Father, -and not onely she, but her Sister also; discovering both his -love and intent to Count <i>Guy de Montforte</i>, who being a very worthy -and vertuous Lord, and meet to be a Counseller for a King, delivered -his mind in this manner.</p> - -<p>Gracious Lord, I wonder not a little at your speeches, and so -much the greater is my admiration, because no man else can be subject -to the like, in regard I have knowne you from the time of your infancy; -even to this instant houre, and alwayes your carriage to bee -one and the same. I could never perceive in your youthfull dayes -(when love should have the greatest meanes to assaile you) any such -oppressing passions: which is now the more novell and strange to -me, to heare it but said, that you being old, and called the Aged; -should be growne amorous, surely to me it seemeth a miracle. And -if it appertained to me to reprehend you in this case, I know well enough -what I could say. Considering, you have yet your Armour -on your backe, in a Kingdome newly conquered, among a Nation -not knowne to you, full of falsehoods, breaches, and treasons; all -which are no meane motives to care and needfull respect. But having -now wone a little leisure, to rest your selfe a while from such -serious affaires; can you give way to the idle suggestions of Love? -Beleeve me Sir, it is no act becomming a magnanimious King; but -rather the giddy folly of a young braine.</p> - -<p>Moreover you say (which most of all I mislike) that you intend -to take the two Virgines from the Knight, who hath given you entertainment -in his house beyond his ability, and to testifie how -much he honoured you, he suffered you to have a sight of them, -meerely (almost) in a naked manner: witnessing thereby, what constant -faith he reposed in you, beleeving verily, that you were a just -King, and not a ravenous Woolfe. Have you so soone forgot, that -the rapes and violent actions, done by King <i>Manfred</i> to harmelesse -Ladies, made your onely way of entrance into this Kingdome? -What treason was ever committed, more worthy of eternall punishment, -then this will be in you: to take away from him (who -hath so highly honoured you) his chiefest hope and consolation? -What will be said by all men, if you doe it?</p> - -<p>Peradventure you thinke, it will be a sufficient excuse for you, to -say: I did it, in regard hee was a <i>Ghibelline</i>. Can you imagine this -to be justice in a King, that such as get into their possession in this -manner (whatsoever it be) ought to use it in this sort? Let me tell -you Sir, it was a most worthy victory for you, to conquer King -<i>Manfred</i>: but it is farre more famous victory, for a man to conquer -himselfe. You therfore, who are ordained to correct vices in -other men, learne first to subdue them in your selfe, and (by brideling -this inordinate appetite) set not a foule blemish on so faire a -fame, as will be honour to you to preserve spotlesse.</p> - -<p>These words pierced the heart of the King deepely, and so -much the more afflicted him, because he knew them to be most -true: wherefore, after he had ventred a very vehement sigh, thus he -replyed. Beleeve me noble Count, there is not any enemy, how -strong soever he be, but I hold him weake and easie to be vanquished, -by him who is skilfull in the warre, where a man may learne to -conquere his owne appetite. But because he shall find it a laborious -taske, requiring inestimable strength and courage: your words -have so toucht me to the quicke, that it becommeth me to let you -effectually perceive (and within the compasse of few dayes) that as -I have learned to conquer others, so I am not ignorant, in expressing -the like power upon my selfe.</p> - -<p>Having thus spoken, within some few dayes after, the King being -returned to <i>Naples</i>, he determined, as well to free himself from -any the like ensuing follie, as also to recompence Signior <i>Neri</i>, for -the great kindnesse he had shewne to him (although it was a difficult -thing, to let another enjoy, what he rather desired for himselfe) -to have the two Damosels married, not as the Daughters of Signior -<i>Neri</i>, but even as if they were his owne. And by consent of the -Father, he gave <i>Genevera</i> the faire, to Signior <i>Maffeo da Pallizzi</i>, -and <i>Isotta</i> the amiable, to Signior <i>Gulielmo della Magna</i>, two Noble -Knights and honourable Barons. After he had thus given them in -marriage, in sad mourning he departed thence into <i>Apuglia</i>, where -by following worthy and honourable actions, he so well overcame -all inordinate appetites: that shaking off the enthralling fetters of -love, he lived free from all passions, the rest of his life time, and dyed -as an honourable King.</p> - -<p>Some perhaps will say, it was a small matter for a King, to give away -two Damosels in marriage, and I confesse it: but I maintaine -it to be great, and more then great, if we say, that a King, being so -earnestly enamoured as this King was; should give her away to -another, whom he so dearely affected himselfe, without receiving -(in recompence of his affection) so much as a leaffe, flower, or the -least fruit of love. Yet such was the vertue of this magnificent -King, expressed in so highly recompencing the noble Knights courtesie, -honouring the two daughters so royally, and conquering his -owne affections so vertuously.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Lisana_the_Daughter_of_a_Florentine_Apothecary_named_Bernardo" id="Lisana_the_Daughter_of_a_Florentine_Apothecary_named_Bernardo">Lisana, <i>the Daughter of a Florentine Apothecary, named</i> Bernardo -Puccino, <i>being at</i> Palermo, <i>and seeing</i> Piero, <i>King of</i> Aragon <i>run -at the Tilt; fell so affectionately enamored of him, that she languished -in an extreame and long sickenesse. By her owne devise, and means -of a Song, sung in the hearing of the King: he vouchsafed to visite -her, and giving her a kisse, terming himselfe also to bee her Knight -for ever after, hee honourably bestowed her in marriage on a young -Gentleman, who was called</i> Perdicano, <i>and gave him liberall endowments -with her.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Seventh Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Wherein is covertly given to understand, that howsoever a Prince -may make use of his absolute power and authority, towards Maides -or Wives that are his Subjects: yet he ought to deny and reject all -things, as shall make him forgetfull of himselfe, and his true honour.</i></h4> - - -<p>Madame <i>Fiammetta</i> being come to the end of her Novell, -and the great magnificence of King <i>Charles</i> much commended -(howbeit, some of the Company, affecting the -<i>Ghibelline</i> faction, were otherwise minded) Madame <i>Pampinea</i>, by -order given from the King, began in this manner.</p> - -<p>There is no man of good understanding (honourable Ladies) but -will maintaine what you have said of victorious <i>Charles</i>; except -such as cannot wish well to any. But because my memory hath -instantly informed me, of an action (perhaps) no lesse commendable -then this, done by an enemy of the said King <i>Charles</i>, and to a -young Maiden of our City; I am the more willing to relate it, upon -your gentle attention vouchsafed, as hitherto it hath been courteously -granted.</p> - -<p>At such time as the French were driven out of <i>Sicilie</i>, there -dwelt at <i>Palermo</i> a <i>Florentine</i> Apothecary, named <i>Bernardo Puccino</i>, -a man of good wealth and reputation, who had by his Wife -one onely Daughter, of marriageable yeares, and very beautifull. -<i>Piero</i>, King of <i>Arragon</i>, being then become Lord of that Kingdom, -he made an admirable Feast Royall at <i>Palermo</i>, accompanyed with -his Lords and Barons. In honour of which publique Feast, the -King kept a triumphall day (of Justs and Turnament) at <i>Catalana</i>, -and whereat it chanced, that the Daughter of <i>Bernardo</i>, named <i>Lisana</i>, -was present. Being in a window, accompanied with other -Gentlewomen, she saw the King runne at the Tilt, who seemed so -goodly a person in her eye; that being never satisfied with beholding -him, she grew enamoured, and fell into extremity of affection -towards him.</p> - -<p>When the Feastivall was ended, she dwelling in the house of her -Father, it was impossible for her to thinke on any thing else, but -onely the love, which she had fixed on a person of such height. -And that which most tormented her in this case, was the knowledge -of her owne condition, being but meane and humble in degree; -whereby she confessed, that she could not hope for any successefull -issue of her proud love. Neverthelesse, she would not refraine -from affecting the King, who taking no note of this kindnesse -in her, by any perceivable meanes; must needs be the more -regardles, which procured (by wary observation) her afflictions to -be the greater and intollerable.</p> - -<p>Whereon it came to passe, that this earnest love encreasing in -her more and more, and one melancholly conceit taking hold on -another: the faire Maide, when she could beare the burden of her -griefe no longer; fell into a languishing sickenesse, consuming away -daily (by evident appearance) even as the Snow melteth by -the warme beames of the Sunne.</p> - -<p>The Father and Mother, much dismayed and displeased at -this haplesse accident, applying her with continuall comforts, Phisicke, -and the best skill remayning in all the Phisitions, sought all -possible meanes wayes to give her succour: but all proved to no effect, -because in regard of her choyce (which could sort to none -other then a desperate end) she was desirous to live no longer. Now -it fortuned, that her parents offering her whatsoever remained in -their power to performe, a sudden apprehension entred her minde, -to wit, that (if it might possible be done) before she dyed, she would -first have the King to know, in what manner she stood affected to -him. Wherefore, one day she entreated her Father, that a Gentleman, -named <i>Manutio de Arezza</i>, might be permitted to come see -her. This <i>Manutio</i> was (in those times) held to be a most excellent -Musitian, both for his voyce in singing, and exquisite skill in playing -on Instruments, for which he was highly in favour with King -<i>Piero</i>, who made (almost) daily use of him, to heare him both sing -and play.</p> - -<p>Her tender and loving father conceived immediately, that shee -was desirous to heare his playing and singing, both being comfortable -to a body in a languishing sickenesse, whereupon, he sent presently -for the Gentleman, who came accordingly, and after he had -comforted <i>Lisana</i> with kind and courteous speeches; he played -dexteriously on his Lute, which purposely hee had brought with -him, and likewise he sung divers excellent Ditties, which insted of -his intended consolation to the Maid, did nothing else but encrease -her fire and flame.</p> - -<p>Afterward, she requested to have some conference with <i>Manutio</i> -alone, and every one being gone forth of the Chamber, she -spake unto him in this manner.</p> - -<p><i>Manutio</i>, I have made choyce of thee, to be the faithfull Guardian -of an especiall secret, hoping first of al, that thou wilt never reveale it -to any living body, but onely to him whom I shall bid thee: And -next, to helpe me so much as possibly thou canst, because my onely -hope relyeth in thee. Know then my dearest friend <i>Manutio</i>, that -on the solemne festivall day, when our Soveraigne Lord the King -honoured his exaltation, with the noble exercises of Tilt and Turney; -his brave behaviour kindled such a sparke in my soule, as since -brake forth into a violent flame, and brought me to this weake condition -as now thou seest. But knowing and confessing, how farre -unbeseeming my love is, to aime so ambitiously at a King, and being -unable to controule it, or in the least manner to diminish it: -I have made choyce of the onely and best remedy of all, namely, -to dye, and so I am most willing to doe.</p> - -<p>True it is, that I shall travaile in this my latest journey, with endlesse -torment and affliction of soule, except he have some understanding -thereof before, and not knowing by whom to give him intelligence, -in so oft and convenient order, as by thee: I doe therefore -commit this last office of a friend to thy trust, desiring thee, not -to refuse me in the performance thereof. And when thou hast -done it, to let me understand what he saith, that I may dye the -more contentedly, and disburdened of so heavy an oppression, the -onely comfort to a parting spirit: and so she ceased, her teares flowing -forth abundantly.</p> - -<p><i>Manutio</i> did not a little wonder at the Maides great spirit, and -her desperate resolution, which moved him to exceeding commiseration, -and suddenly he conceived, that honestly he might discharge -this duty for her, whereupon, he returned her this answer. -<i>Lisana</i>, here I engage my faith to thee, that thou shalt find me firme -and constant, and die I will, rather then deceive thee. Greatly I doe -commend thy high attempt, in fixing thy affection on so Potent -a King, wherein I offer thee my utmost assistance: and I make no -doubt (if thou wouldest be of good comfort) to deale in such sort, -as, before three dayes are fully past, to bring such newes as will content -thee, and because I am loath to loose the least time, I will goe about -it presently. <i>Lisana</i> the young Maiden, once againe entreated -his care and diligence, promising to comfort her selfe so well as she -could, commending him to his good fortune. When <i>Manutio</i> was -gone from her, hee went to a Gentleman, named <i>Mico de -Sienna</i>, one of the best Poets in the composing of verses, as all those -parts yeelded not the like. At his request, <i>Mico</i> made for him this -ensuing Dittie.</p> - - -<h4>The Song sung in the hearing of -King <i>Piero</i>, on the behalfe of Love-sicke -<i>Lisana.</i></h4> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i5">Goe Love, and tell the torments I endure,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Say to my Soveraigne Lord, that I must die<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Except he come, some comfort to procure,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">For tell I may not, what I feele, and why.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">With heaved hands Great Love, I call to thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Goe see my Soveraigne, where he doth abide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And say to him, in what extremity,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou hast (for him) my firm affection tryed.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To die for him, it is my sole desire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For live with him I may not, nor aspire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To have my fortunes thereby dignified,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Onely his sight would lend me life a while:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grant it (great love) mine anguish to beguile.<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Goe love and tell the torments, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Since the first houre that love enthralled me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I never had the heart, to tell my griefe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My thoughts did speake, for thoughts be alwayes free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet hopefull thoughts doe find but poore reliefe.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When Gnats will mount to Eagles in the ayre,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alas! they scorne them, for full well they know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They were not bred to prey so base and low,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Aloft they look, to make their flight more faire.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And yet his sight would lend me life a while:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grant it (great love) mine anguish to beguile.<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Goe love, and tell the torments, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">If sight shall be denyed, then tell them plaine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His high triumphall day procurd my death,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Launce that won him Honour, hath me slaine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For instantly it did bereave my breath.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That speake I could not, nor durst be so bold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To make the Ayre acquainted with my woe:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alas! I lookt so high, and doing so,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Justly deserve by death to be controld.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet mercies sight would lend me life a while,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grant it (great love) mine anguish to beguile.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i5">Goe love, and tell the torments I endure,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Say to my Soveraigne Lord, that I must die:<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Except he come, some comfort to procure,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">For tell I may not, what I feele, and why.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>The lines contained in this Ditty, <i>Manutio</i> fitted with noates so -mooving and singularly musicall, that every word had the sensible -motion of life in it, where the King being (as yet) not risen from the -Table, he commanded him to use both his Lute and voyce.</p> - -<p>This seemed a happy opportunity to <i>Manutio</i>, to sing the dittie -so purposely done and devised: which hee delivered in such excellent -manner, the voice and Instrument concording so extraordinary -pleasing; that all the persons then in the Presence, seemed rather -Statues, then living men, so strangely they were wrapt with admiration, -and the King himselfe farre beyond all the rest, transported -with a rare kinde of alteration.</p> - -<p>When <i>Manutio</i> had ended the Song, the King demanded of him, -whence this Song came, because he had never heard it before? My -gracious Lord, answered <i>Manutio</i>, it must needes seeme straunge to -your Majesty, because it is not fully three dayes, since it was invented, -made, and set to the note. Then the King asked, whom it concerned? -Sir (quoth <i>Manutio</i>) I dare not disclose that to any but -onely your selfe. Which answer made the King much more desirous, -and being risen from the Table, he tooke him into his Bed-chamber, -where <i>Manutio</i> related all at large to him, according to -the trust reposed in him. Wherewith the King was wonderfully -well pleased, greatly commending the courage of the Maide, and -said, that a Virgin of such a valiant spirit, did well deserve to have -her case commiserated: and commanded him also, to goe (as sent -from him) and comfort her, with promise, that the very same day, in -the evening, he would not faile to come and see her.</p> - -<p><i>Manutio</i>, more then contented, to carry such glad tydings to <i>Lisana</i>; -without staying in any place, and taking his Lute also with -him, went to the Apothecaries house, where speaking alone with -the Maide: he told her what he had done, and afterward sung the -song to her, in as excellent manner as he had done before, wherein -<i>Lisana</i> conceived such joy and contentment, as even in the very -same moment, it was observed by apparant signes, that the violence -of her fits forsooke her, and health began to get the upper hand of -them. So, without suffering any one in the house to know it, or by -the least meanes to suspect it; she comforted her selfe till the evening, -in expectation of her Soveraignes arrivall.</p> - -<p><i>Piero</i> being a Prince, of most liberall and benigne nature, having -afterward divers times considered on the matters which <i>Manutio</i> -had revealed to him, knowing also the young Maiden, to bee both -beautifull and vertuous: was so much moved with pitty of her extremitie, -as mounting on horse-backe in the evening, and seeming -as if he rode abroad for his private recreation; he went directly to -the Apothecaries house, where desiring to see a goodly garden, appertaining -then to the Apothecarie, he dismounted from his horse. -Walking into the garden, he began to question with <i>Bernardo</i>, demaunding -him for his Daughter, and whether he had (as yet) marryed -her, or no? My Gracious Lord, answered <i>Bernardo</i>, as yet shee -is not marryed, neither likely to bee, in regard shee hath had a long -and tedious sickenesse: but since Dinner time, she is indifferently -eased of her former violent paine, which we could not discerne the -like alteration in her, a long while before.</p> - -<p>The King understood immediately, the reason of this so sudden -alteration, and said. In good faith <i>Bernardo</i>, the world would sustaine -a great maine & imperfection, by the losse of thy faire daughter; -wherefore, we will goe our selfe in person to visite her. So, with -two of his Lords onely, and the Father, he ascended to the Maides -Chamber & being entred, he went to the Beds side, where she sate, -somewhat raised, in expectation of his comming, and taking her by -the hand, he said. Faire <i>Lisana</i>, how commeth this to passe? You being -so faire a Virgin, young, and in the delicacy of your daies, which -should be the chiefest comfort to you, will you suffer your selfe to -be over-awed with sickenesse? Let us intreat you, that (for our sake) -you will be of good comfort, and thereby recover your health the -sooner, especially, when it is requested by a King, who is sorry to see -so bright a beauty sicke, and would helpe it, if it consisted in his -power.</p> - -<p><i>Lisana</i>, feeling the touch of his hand, whom she loved above all -things else in the world, although a bashfull blush mounted up into -her cheekes: yet her heart was seazed with such a rapture of pleasure, -that she thought her selfe translated into Paradise, and, so well -as she could, thus she replyed. Great King, by opposing my feeble -strength, against a burden of over-ponderous weight, it became the -occasion of this grievous sickenesse: but I hope that the violence -thereof is (almost) already kild, onely by this soveraigne mercy in -you; and doubtlesse it will cause my speedy deliverance. The King -did best understand this so well palliated answere of <i>Lisana</i>, which -as he did much commend, in regard of her high adventuring; so -he did againe as greatly condemne Fortune, for not making her -more happy in her birth.</p> - -<p>So, after he had stayed there a good while, and given her many -comfortable speeches, he returned backe to the Court. This humanity -in the King, was reputed a great honour to the Apothecary -and his daughter, who (in her owne mind) received as much joy and -contentment thereby, as ever any wife could have of her owne -Husband.</p> - -<p>And being assisted by better hopes, within a short while after, -she became recovered, and farre more beautifull (in common judgment) -then ever she was before.</p> - -<p><i>Lisana</i> being now in perfect health, the King consulted with his -Queene, what meete recompence he should gratifie her withall, -for loving and affecting him in such fervent manner. Upon a day -determined, the King mounting on horsebacke, accompanied with -many of his cheefest Lords and Barons, he rode to the Apothecaries -house, where walking in his beautifull Garden, hee called for -<i>Bernardo</i> and his daughter <i>Lisana</i>. In the meane space, the Queene -also came thither, Royally attended on by her Ladies, and <i>Lisana</i> -being admitted into their company, they expressed themselves very -gracious to her. Soone after, the King and the Queene cald <i>Lisana</i>, -and the King spake in this manner to her.</p> - -<p>Faire Virgin, the extraordinary love which you bare to us, calleth -for as great honour from us to you; in which respect, it is our -Royall desire, by one meanes or other to requite your kinde Love. -In our opinion, the chiefe honour we can extend to you, is, that being -of sufficient yeares for marriage, you would grace us so much, -as to accept him for your Husband, whom we intend to bestow on -you. Beside this further grant from us, that (notwithstanding whatsoever -else) you shall call us your Knight; without coveting any -thing else from you, for so great favour, but only one kisse, and -thinke not to bestow it nicely on a King, but grant it the rather, because -he begges it.</p> - -<p><i>Lisana</i>, whose lookes, were dyed with a vermillian tincture, or -rather converted into a pure maiden blush, reputing the Kings desire -to be her owne; in a low and humbled voyce, thus answered. -My Lord, most certaine am I, that if it had beene publikely knowne, -how none but your highnes, might serve for me to fixe my love on, -I should have been termed the foole of all fooles: they perhaps beleeving, -that I was forgetfull of my selfe, in being ignorant of mine -owne condition, and much lesse of yours. But the Gods are my witnesses -(because they know the secrets of all hearts) that even in the -very instant, when Loves fire tooke hold on my yeelding affection: -I knew you to be a King, and my selfe the daughter of poore <i>Bernardo</i> -the Apothecary: likewise, how farre unfitting it was for me, to -be so ambitious in my loves presuming. But I am sure your Majestie -doth know (much better then I am able to expresse) that no one -becommeth amourous, according to the duty of election, but as the -appetite shapeth his course, against whose lawes my strength made -many resistances, which not prevailing, I presumed to love, did, and -so for ever shall doe, your Majestie.</p> - -<p>Now Royall Soveraigne, I must needes confesse, that so soone as -I felt my selfe thus wholly conquered by loving you, I resolved for -ever after, to make your will mine owne, and therefore, am not onely -willing to accept him for my Husband, whom you shall please to -appoint, befitting my honour and degree: but if you will have me to -live in a flaming fire, my obedience shall sacrifice it selfe to your -will, with the absolute conformity of mine owne. To stile you by -the name of my Knight, whom I know to be my lawfull King and -Soveraigne; you are not ignorant, how farre unfitting a word that -were for me to use: As also the kisse which you request, in requitall -of my love to you; to these two I wil never give consent, without -the Queenes most gracious favour and license first granted. Neverthelesse, -for such admirable benignity used to me, both by your -Royall selfe, and your vertuous Queene: heaven shower downe all -boundlesse graces on you both, for it exceedeth all merit in me, and -so she ceased speaking, in most dutifull manner.</p> - -<p>The answer of <i>Lisana</i> pleased the Queene exceedingly, in finding -her to be so wise and faire, as the King himself had before informed -her: who instantly called for her Father and Mother, and knowing -they would be well pleased with whatsoever he did; he called for a -proper young Gentleman, but some what poore, being named <i>Perdicano</i>, -and putting certaine Rings into his hand, which he refused -not to receive, caused him there to espouse <i>Lisana</i>. To whome the -King gave immediately (besides Chaines and Jewels of inestimable -valew, delivered by the Queene to the Bride) <i>Ceffala</i> and <i>Calatabelotta</i>, -two great territories abounding in divers wealthy possessions, -saying to <i>Perdicano</i>. These wee give thee, as a dowry in marriage -with this beautifull Maid, and greater gifts we will bestow on thee -hereafter, as we shal perceive thy love and kindnesse to her.</p> - -<p>When he had ended these words, hee turned to <i>Lisana</i>, saying: -Heere doe I freely give over all further fruits of your affection towards -me, thanking you for your former love: so taking her head -betweene his hands, he kissed her faire forhead, which was the usuall -custome in those times. <i>Perdicano</i>, the Father and Mother of -<i>Lisana</i>, and she her selfe likewise, extraordinarily joyfulll for this so -fortunate a marriage, returned humble and hearty thankes both to -the King and Queene, and (as many credible Authors doe affirme) -the King kept his promise made to <i>Lisana</i>, because (so long as he lived) -he alwaies termed himselfe by the name of her Knight, and in -al actions of Chivalry by him undertaken, he never carried any other -devise, but such as he received still from her.</p> - -<p>By this, and divers other like worthy deeds, not onely did he win -the hearts of his subjects; but gave occasion to the whole world beside, -to renowne his fame to all succeeding posterity. Whereto (in -these more wretched times of ours) few or none bend the sway of -their understanding: but rather how to bee cruell and tyrranous -Lords, and thereby win the hatred of their people.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Sophronia_thinking_her_selfe_to_be_the_maried_wife_of_Gisippus_was" id="Sophronia_thinking_her_selfe_to_be_the_maried_wife_of_Gisippus_was">Sophronia, <i>thinking her selfe to be the maried wife of</i> Gisippus, <i>was -(indeed) the wife of</i> Titus Quintus Fulvius, <i>& departed thence with -him to Rome. Within a while after,</i> Gisippus <i>also came thither in very -poore condition, and thinking that he was despised by</i> Titus, <i>grew weary -of his life, and confessed that he had murdred a man, with full intent -to die for the fact. But</i> Titus <i>taking knowledge of him, and desiring to -save the life of</i> Gisippus, <i>charged himself to have done the bloody deed. -Which the murderer himself (standing then among the multitude) seeing, -truly confessed the deed. By meanes whereof, all three were delivered -by the Emperor</i> Octavius; <i>and</i> Titus <i>gave his Sister in mariage to</i> -Gisippus, <i>giving them also the most part of his goods & inheritances.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The eight Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Declaring, that notwithstanding the frownes of Fortune, diversity -of occurrences, and contrary accidents happening: yet love and friendship -ought to be preciously preserved among men.</i></h4> - - -<p>By this time Madam <i>Philomena</i>, at command of the King, -(Madam <i>Pampinea</i> ceasing) prepared to follow next in -order, whereupon thus she began. What is it (Gracious -Ladies) that Kings can not do (if they list) in matters of greatest importance, -and especially unto such as most they should declare their -magnificence? He then that performeth what he ought to do, when -it is within his owne power, doth well. But it is not so much to bee -admired, neither deserveth halfe the commendations, as when one -man doth good to another, when least it is expected, as being out of -his power, and yet performed. In which respect, because you have -so extolled king <i>Piero</i>, as appearing not meanly meritorious in your -judgements; I make no doubt but you will be much more pleased, -when the actions of our equals are duly considered, and shal paralell -any of the greatest Kings. Wherefore I purpose to tell you a -Novel, concerning an honourable curtesie of two worthy friends.</p> - -<p>At such time as <i>Octavius Cæsar</i> (not as yet named <i>Augustus</i>, but -only in the office called <i>Triumveri</i>) governed the <i>Romane</i> Empire, -there dwelt in <i>Rome</i> a Gentleman, named <i>Publius Quintus Fulvius</i>, -a man of singular understanding, who having one son, called <i>Titus -Quintus Fulvius</i>, of towardly yeares and apprehension, sent him to -<i>Athens</i> to learne Philosophy; but with letters of familiar commendations, -to a Noble <i>Athenian</i> Gentleman, named <i>Chremes</i>, being his -ancient friend, of long acquaintance. This Gentleman lodged <i>Titus</i> -in his owne House, as companion to his son, named <i>Gisippus</i>, both of -them studying together, under the tutoring of a Philosopher, called -<i>Aristippus</i>. These two young Gentlemen living thus in one City, -House, and Schoole, it bred betweene them such a brother-hoode -and amity, as they could not be severed from one another; but only -by the accident of death; nor could either of them enjoy any content, -but when they were both together in company.</p> - -<p>Being each of them endued with gentle spirits, and having begun -their studies together: they arose (by degrees) to the glorious height -of Philosophy, to their much admired fame and commendation. In -this manner they lived, to the no meane comfort of <i>Chremes</i>, hardly -distinguishing the one from the other for his Son, & thus the Scholars -continued the space of three yeares. At the ending whereof (as it -hapneth in al things else) <i>Chremes</i> died, whereat both the young -Gentlemen conceived such hearty griefe, as if he had bin their common -father; nor could the kinred of <i>Chremes</i> discerne, which of the -two had most need of comfort, the losse touched them so equally.</p> - -<p>It chanced within some few months after, that the kinred of <i>Gisippus</i> -came to see him, and (before <i>Titus</i>) avised him to marriage, and -with a young Gentlewoman of singular beauty, derived from a most -noble house in <i>Athens</i>, and she named <i>Sophronia</i>, aged about fifteen -years. This mariage drawing neere, <i>Gisippus</i> on a day, intreated <i>Titus</i> -to walk along with him thither, because (as yet) he had not seene -her. Comming to the house, and she sitting in the midst betweene -them, <i>Titus</i> making himselfe a considerator of beauty, & especially -on his friends behalfe; began to observe her very judicially, & every -part of her seemed so pleasing in his eie, that giving them al a privat -praise, yet answerable to their due deserving; he becam so enflamed -with affection to her, as never any lover could bee more violentlie -surprized, so sodainly doth beauty beguile our best senses.</p> - -<p>After they had sate an indifferent while with her, they returned -home to their lodging, where <i>Titus</i> being alone in his chamber, began -to bethink himselfe on her, whose perfections had so powerfully -pleased him: and the more he entred into this consideration, the -fiercer he felt his desires enflamed, which being unable to quench, -by any reasonable perswasions, after hee had vented foorth infinite -sighes, thus he questioned with himselfe.</p> - -<p>Most unhappie <i>Titus</i> as thou art, whether doost thou transport -thine understanding, love, and hope? Dooest thou not know as -well by the honourable favours, which thou hast received of <i>Chremes</i> -and his house, as also the intire amity betweene thee and <i>Gisippus</i> -(unto whom faire <i>Sophronia</i> is the affianced friend) that thou -shouldst holde her in the like reverent respect, as if shee were thy -true borne Sister? Darest thou presume to fancie her? Whether -shall beguiling Love allure thee, and vaine immaging hopes carrie -thee? Open the eyes of thy better understanding, and acknowledge -thy selfe to bee a most miserable man. Give way to reason, -bridle thine intemperate appetites, reforme all irregulare desires, -and guide thy fancy to a place of better direction. Resist thy wanton -and lascivious will in the beginning, and be master of thy selfe, -while thou hast opportunity, for that which thou aimest at, is neither -reasonable nor honest. And if thou wert assured to prevaile upon -this pursuite, yet thou oughtst to avoide it, if thou hast any regard -of true friendship, and the duty therein justly required. What -wilt thou do then <i>Titus</i>? Fly from this inordinate affection, if thou -wilt be reputed to be a man of sensible judgement.</p> - -<p>After he had thus discoursed with himselfe, remembring <i>Sophronia</i>, -and converting his former allegations, into a quite contrarie -sense, in utter detestation of them, and guided by his idle appetite, -thus he began againe. The lawes of love are of greater force, then any -other whatsoever, they not only breake the bands of friendship, -but even those also of more divine consequence. How many times -hath it bin noted, the father to affect his own daughter, the brother -his sister, and the stepmother her son in law, matters far more monstrous, -then to see one friend love the wife of another, a case happening -continually? Moreover, I am young, and youth is wholly subjected -to the passions of Love: is it reasonable then, that those should -be bard from me, which are fitting and pleasing to Love? Honest -things, belong to men of more years and maturity, then I am troubled -withall, and I can covet none, but onely those wherein Love is -directer. The beauty of <i>Sophronia</i> is worthy of generall love, and if I -that am a youngman do love her, what man living can justly reprove -me for it? Shold not I love her, because she is affianced to <i>Gisippus</i>? -That is no matter to me, I ought to love her, because she is a woman, -and women were created for no other occasion, but to bee Loved. -Fortune had sinned in this case, and not I, in directing my friends affection -to her, rather then any other; and if she ought to be loved, as -her perfections do challenge, <i>Gisippus</i> understanding that I affect -her, may be the better contented that it is I, rather then any other.</p> - -<p>With these, and the like crosse entercourses, he often mockt himselfe, -falling into the contrary, and then to this againe, and from the -contrary, into another kind of alteration, wasting and consuming -himselfe, not only this day and the night following, but many more -afterward, til he lost both his feeding & sleepe, so that through debility -of body, he was constrained to keepe his bed. <i>Gisippus</i>, who had -divers dayes noted his melancholly disposition, and now his falling -into extreamitie of sicknesse, was very sorry to behold it: and with -all meanes and inventions he could devise to use, hee both questioned -the cause of this straunge alteration, and essayed everie way, -how hee might best comfort him, never ceassing to demaunde -a reason, why he should become thus sad and sickely. But <i>Titus</i> -after infinite importuning, which still he answered with idle and frivolous -excuses, farre from the truth indeede, and (to the no meane -affliction of his friend) when he was able to use no more contradictions; -at length, in sighes and teares, thus he replyed.</p> - -<p><i>Gisippus</i>, were the Gods so wel pleased, I could more gladly yeild -to dye, then continue any longer in this wretched life, considering, -that Fortune hath brought mee to such an extremity, as proofe is -now to be made of my constancie and vertue; both which I finde -conquered in me, to my eternall confusion and shame. But my best -hope is, that I shal shortly be requited, as I have in justice deserved, -namely with death, which will be a thousand times more welcome -to me, then a loathed life, with remembrance of my base dejection -in courage, which because I can no longer conceale from thee; not -without blushing shame, I am well contented for to let thee know -it.</p> - -<p>Then began hee to recount, the whole occasion of this straunge -conflict in him, what a maine battaile hee had with his private -thoughts, confessing that they got the victory, causing him to die -hourely for the love of <i>Sophronia</i>, and affirming withall, that in due -acknowledgement, how greatly hee had transgressed against the -lawes of friendship, he thought no other penance sufficient for him, -but onely death, which he willingly expected every houre, and with -all his heart would gladly bid welcome.</p> - -<p><i>Gisippus</i> hearing this discourse, and seeing how <i>Titus</i> bitterly -wept, in agonies of most moving afflictions: sat an indifferent while -sad and pensive, as being wounded with affection to <i>Sophronia</i>, but -yet in a well-governed and temperate manner. So, without any -long delaying, hee concluded with himselfe; that the life of his -friend ought to be accounted much more deare, then any love hee -could beare unto <i>Sophronia</i>: And in this resolution, the teares of -<i>Titus</i> forcing his eyes to flow forth like two Fountaines, thus he replyed.</p> - -<p><i>Titus</i>, if thou hadst not neede of comfort, as plainly I see thou -hast, I would justly complaine of thee to my selfe, as of the man -who hath violated our friendship, in keeping thine extreamitie so -long time concealed from mee, which hath beene over-tedious for -thee to endure. And although it might seeme to thee a dishonest -case, and therefore kept from the knowledge of thy friend, yet I -plainly tell thee, that dishonest courses (in the league of amitie) deserve -no more concealment, then those of the honestest nature. But -leaving these impertinent wandrings, let us come to them of much -greater necessitie.</p> - -<p>If thou doest earnestly love faire <i>Sophronia</i>, who is betroathed -and affianced to me, it is no matter for me to marvaile at: but I -should rather be much abashed, if thou couldst not intyrely affect -her, knowing how beautifull she is, and the nobility of her minde, -being as able to sustaine passion, as the thing pleasing is fullest of -excellence. And looke how reasonably thou fanciest <i>Sophronia</i>, as -unjustly thou complainest of thy fortune, in ordaining her to be -my wife, although thou doest not speake it expresly: as being of opinion, -that thou mightest with more honesty love her, if she were any -others, then mine. But if thou art so wise, as I have alwayes held -thee to be, tell me truely upon thy faith, to whom could Fortune -better guide her, and for which thou oughtest to be more thankfull, -then in bestowing her on me? Any other that had enjoyed her, although -thy love were never so honest, yet he would better affect -her himselfe, then for thee, which thou canst not (in like manner) -looke for from me, if thou doest account me for thy friend, and as -constant now as ever.</p> - -<p>Reason is my warrant in this case, because I cannot remember, -since first our entrance into friendship, that ever I enjoyed any -thing, but it was as much thine, as mine. And if our affaires had -such an equall course before, as otherwise they could not subsist; -must they not now be kept in the same manner? Can any thing -more perticularly appertaine to me, but thy right therein is as absolute -as mine? I know not how thou maist esteeme of my friendship, if in -any thing concerning my selfe, I can plead my priviledge -to be above thine. True it is, that <i>Sophronia</i> is affianced to me, and -I love her dearely, daily expecting when our nuptials shall be celebrated. -But seeing thou doest more fervently affect her, as being -better able to judge of the perfections, remaining in so excellent a -creature as she is, then I doe: assure thy selfe, and beleeve it constantly, -that she shall come to my bed, not as my wife, but onely -thine. And therefore leave these despairing thoughts, shake off -this cloudy disposition, reassume thy former Joviall spirit, with -comfort and what else can content thee: in expectation of the happy -houre, and the just requitall of thy long, loving, and worthy -friendship, which I have alwayes valued equall with mine owne -life.</p> - -<p><i>Titus</i> hearing this answer of <i>Gisippus</i>, looke how much the sweet -hope of that which he desired gave him pleasure, as much both duty -and reason affronted him with shame; setting before his eyes -this du consideration, that the greater the liberality of <i>Gisippus</i> was, -farre greater and unreasonable it appeared to him in disgrace, if hee -should unmannerly accept it. Wherefore, being unable to refrain -from teares, and with such strength as his weaknesse would give -leave, thus he replyed.</p> - -<p><i>Gisippus</i>, thy bounty and firme friendship suffereth me to see apparantly, -what (on my part) is no more then ought to be done. All -the Gods forbid, that I should receive as mine, her whom they have -adjudged to be thine, by true respect of birth and desert. For if they -had thought her a wife fit for me, doe not thou or any else imagine, -that ever she should have beene granted to thee. Use freely therefore -thine owne election, and the gracious favour wherewith they -have blessed thee: leave me to consume away in teares, a mourning -garment by them appointed for me, as being a man unworthy of -such happinesse; for either I shall conquer this disaster, and that wil -be my crowne, or else will vanquish me, and free me from all paine: -whereto <i>Gisippus</i> presently thus answered.</p> - -<p>Worthy <i>Titus</i>, if our amity would give me so much licence, as -but to contend with my selfe, in pleasing thee with such a thing as I -desire, and could also induce thee therein to be directed: it is the -onely end whereat I aime, and am resolved to pursue it. In which -regard, let my perswasions prevaile with thee, and thereto I conjure -thee, by the faith of a friend, suffer me to use mine authority, when -it extendeth both to mine owne honour, and thy good, for I will -have <i>Sophronia</i> to bee onely thine. I know sufficiently, how -farre the forces of love doe extend in power, and am not ignorant -also, how not once or twice, but very many times, they have -brought lovers to unfortunate ends, as now I see thee very neere it, -and so farre gone, as thou art not able to turne backe againe, nor yet -to conquer thine owne teares, but proceeding on further in this extremity, -thou wilt be left vanquished, sinking under the burthen of -loves tyrannicall oppression, and then my turne is next to follow -thee. And therefore, had I no other reason to love thee, yet because -thy life is deare to me, in regard of mine owne depending -thereon; I stand the neerer thereto obliged. For this cause, <i>Sophronia</i> -must and shal be thine, for thou canst not find any other so conforme -to thy fancy: albeit I who can easily convert my liking to another -wife, but never to have the like friend againe, shall hereby -content both thee, and my selfe.</p> - -<p>Yet perhaps this is not a matter so easily done, or I to expresse -such liberality therein, if wives were to be found with the like difficultie, -as true and faithfull friends are: but, (being able to recover -another wife) though never such a worthy friend; I rather chuse to -change, I doe not say loose her (for in giving her to thee, I loose her -not my selfe) and by this change, make that which was good before, -tenne times better, and so preserve both thee and my selfe. To this -end therefore, if my prayers and perswasions have any power with -thee, I earnestly entreat thee, that, by freeing thy selfe out of this affliction, -thou wilt (in one instant) make us both truely comforted, -and dispose thy selfe (living in hope) to embrace that happinesse, -which the fervent love thou bearest to <i>Sophronia</i>, hath justly deserved.</p> - -<p>Now although <i>Titus</i> was confounded with shame, to yeeld consent, -that <i>Sophronia</i> should be accepted as his wife, and used many -obstinate resistances: yet notwithstanding, Love pleading on the -one side powerfully, and <i>Gisippus</i> as earnestly perswading on the other, thus -he answered. <i>Gisippus</i>, I know not what to say, neither -how to behave my selfe in this election, concerning the fitting of -mine contentment, or pleasing thee in thy importunate perswasion. -But seeing thy liberality is so great, as it surmounteth all reason or -shame in me, I will yeeld obedience to thy more then noble nature. -Yet let this remaine for thine assurance, that I doe not receive this -grace of thine, as a man not sufficiently understanding, how I enjoy -from thee, not onely her whom most of all I doe affect, but also doe -hold my very life of thee. Grant then you greatest Gods (if you -be the Patrones of this mine unexpected felicitie) that with honour -and due respect, I may hereafter make apparantly knowne: how -highly I acknowledge this thy wonderfull favour, in being more -mercifull to me, then I could be to my selfe.</p> - -<p>For abridging of all further circumstances, answered <i>Gisippus</i>, -and for easier bringing this matter to full effect, I hold this to be -our onely way. It is not unknowne to thee, how after much discourse -had between my kindred, and those belonging to <i>Sophronia</i>, -the matrimoniall conjunction was fully agreed on, and therefore, -if now I shall flye off, and say, I will not accept thee as my wife: -great scandall would arise thereby, and make much trouble among -our friends, which could not be greatly displeasing to me, if that -were the way to make her thine. But I rather stand in feare, that if -I forsake her in such peremptory sort, her kinred and friends will -bestow her on some other, and so she is utterly lost, without all possible -meanes of recovery. For prevention therefore of all sinister -accidents, I thinke it best, (if thy opinion jumpe with mine) that I -still pursue the busines, as already I have begun, having thee alwaies -in my company, as my dearest friend and onely associate. The nuptials -being performed with our friends, in secret manner at night (as -we can cunningly enough contrive it) thou shalt have her maiden -honour in bed, even as if she were thine owne wife. Afterward, -in apt time and place, we will publiquely make knowne what -is done; if they take it well, we will be as jocond as they: if they -frowne and waxe offended, the deed is done, over-late to be recalled, -and so perforce they must rest contented.</p> - -<p>You may well imagine, this advise was not a little pleasing to -<i>Titus</i>, whereupon <i>Gisippus</i> received home <i>Sophronia</i> into his house, -with publike intention to make her his wife, according as was the -custome then observed, and <i>Titus</i> being perfectly recovered, was -present at the Feast very ceremonially observed. When night was -come, the Ladies and Gentlewomen conducted <i>Sophronia</i> to the -Bride-Chamber, where they left her in her Husbands bed, and then -departed all away. The Chamber wherein <i>Titus</i> used to lodge, joyned -close to that of <i>Gisippus</i>, for their easier accesse each to the other, -at all times whensoever they pleased, and <i>Gisippus</i> being alone -in the Bride-Chamber, preparing as if he were comming to bed: -extinguishing the light, he went softly to <i>Titus</i>, willing him to goe -to bed to his wife. Which <i>Titus</i> hearing, overcome with shame -and feare, became repentant, and denyed to goe. But <i>Gisippus</i>, being -a true intyre friend indeed, and confirming his words with actions: -after a little lingering dispute, sent him to the Bride, and so soone as -he was in the bed with her, taking <i>Sophronia</i> gently by the hand, -softly he moved the usuall question to her, namely, if she were willing -to be his wife.</p> - -<p>She beleeving verily that he was <i>Gisippus</i>, modestly answered. -Sir, I have chosen you to be my Husband, reason requires then, that -I should be willing to be your Wife. At which words, a costly -Ring, which <i>Gisippus</i> used daily to weare, he put upon her finger, -saying. With this Ring, I confesse my selfe to be your Husband, -and bind you (for ever) my Spouse and Wife; no other kind of -marriage was observed in those dayes; and so he continued all the -night with her, she never suspecting him to be any other then <i>Gisippus</i>, -and thus was the marriage consumated, betweene <i>Titus</i> and <i>Sophronia</i>, -albeit the friends (on either side) thought otherwise.</p> - -<p>By this time, <i>Publius</i>, the father of <i>Titus</i>, was departed out of this -mortall life, & letters came to <i>Athens</i>, that with all speed he should -returne to <i>Rome</i>, to take order for occasions there concerning him, -wherefore he concluded with <i>Gisippus</i> about his departure, and taking -<i>Sophronia</i> thither with him, which was no easie matter to be -done, until it were first known, how occasions had bin caried among -them. Wherupon, calling her one day into her Chamber, they told -her entirely, how all had past, which <i>Titus</i> confirmed substantially, -by such direct passages betweene themselves, as exceeded all possibility -of denyall, and moved in her much admiration; looking each -on other very discontentedly, she heavily weeping and lamenting, -& greatly complaining of <i>Gisippus</i>, for wronging her so unkindly.</p> - -<p>But before any further noyse was made in the house, shee went -to her Father, to whom, as also to her Mother, shee declared the -whole trecherie, how much both they and their other friends were -wronged by <i>Gisippus</i>, avouching her selfe to be the wife of <i>Titus</i>, -and not of <i>Gisippus</i>, as they supposed. These newes were highly -displeasing to the Father of <i>Sophronia</i>, who with hir kinred, as also -those of <i>Gisippus</i>, made great complaints to the Senate, very dangerous -troubles and commotions arising daily betweene them, drawing -both <i>Gisippus</i> and <i>Sophronia</i> into harsh reports; he being generally -reputed, not onely worthy of all bitter reproofe, but also the -severest punishment. Neverthelesse, hee maintained publikely -what he had done, avouching it for an act both of honour and honestie, -wherewith <i>Sophronia's</i> friends had no reason to bee offended, -but rather to take it in very thankfull part, having married a -man of farre greater worth and respect, than himselfe was, or -could be.</p> - -<p>On the other side, <i>Titus</i> hearing these uncivill acclamations, became -much moved and provoked at them, but knowing it was a custome -observed among the <i>Greekes</i>, to be so much the more hurried -away with rumours and threatnings, as lesse they finde them to be -answered, and when they finde them, shew themselves not onely -humble enough, but rather as base men, and of no courage; he resolved -with himselfe, that their braveries were no longer to be endured, -without some some bold and manly answere. And having a -Romane heart, as also an Athenian understanding, by politique -perswasions, he caused the kinred of <i>Gisippus</i> and <i>Sophronia</i>, to be assembled -in a Temple, and himselfe comming thither, accompanied -with none but <i>Gisippus</i> onely, he began to deliver his minde before -them all, in this manner following.</p> - -<blockquote> - -<h4>The Oration uttered by <i>Titus Quintus Fulvius</i>, in the -hearing of the Athenians, being the kinred -and friends to <i>Gisippus</i> and <i>Sophronia</i>.</h4> - - -<p><i>Many Philosophers doe hold opinion, that the actions performed -by mortall men, doe proceed from the disposing and ordination -of the immortall gods. Whereupon some doe maintaine, that -things which be done, or never are to be done, proceed of necessity: howbeit -some other doe hold, that this necessity is onely referred to things -done. Both which opinions (if they be considered with mature judgment) -doe most manifestly approve, that they who reprehend any thing which is -irrevocable, doe nothing else but shew themselves, as if they were wiser -then the Gods, who we are to beleeve, that with perpetuall reason, and -void of any error, doe dispose and governe both us, and all our actions; -In which respect, how foolish and beast-like a thing it is, presumptuously -to checke or controule their operations, you may very easily consider; and -likewise, how justly they deserve condigne punishment, who suffer themselves -to be transported in so temerarious a manner.</i></p> - -<p><i>In which notorious transgression, I understand you all to be guiltie, if -common fame speake truely, concerning the marriage of my selfe and</i> Sophronia, -<i>whom you imagined as given to</i> Gisippus; <i>for you never remember -that it was so ordained from eternitie, shee to be mine, and no -Wife for</i> Gisippus, <i>as at this instant is made manifest by full effect. -But because the kinde of speaking, concerning divine providence, and -intention of the Gods, may seeme a difficult matter to many, and somewhat -hard to bee understood: I am content to presuppose, that they -meddle not with any thing of ours, and will onely stay my selfe on humane -reasons, and in this nature of speech, I shall be enforced to doe -two things, quite contrary to my naturall disposition. The one is, to -speake somewhat in praise and commendation of my selfe: And the other, -justly to blame and condemne other mens seeming estimation. But -because both in the one and the other, I doe not intend to swerve a -jot from the Truth, and the necessitie of the present case in question, -doth not onely require, but also command it, you must pardon what I -am to say.</i></p> - -<p><i>Your complaints doe proceed, rather from furie then reason, and (with -continuall murmurings, or rather seditious) slander, backe-bite and -condemne</i> Gisippus, <i>because (of his owne free will and noble disposition) -hee gave her to be my Wife, whom (by your election) was made -his; wherein I account him most highly praise-worthy: and the reasons -inducing mee thereunto, are these. The first, because he hath performed -no more then what a friend ought to doe: And the second, in regard he -hath dealt more wisely, then you did. I have no intention, to display (at -this present) what the sacred law of amitie requireth, to be acted by one -friend towards another, it shall suffice mee onely to informe you, that -the league of friendship (farre stronger then the bond of bloud and kinred) -confirmed us in our election of either at the first, to be true, loyall -and perpetuall friends; whereas that of kinred, commeth onely by fortune -or chance. And therefore if</i> Gisippus <i>affected more my life, then -your benevolence, I being ordained for his friend, as I confesse my selfe -to be; none of you ought to wonder thereat, in regard it is no matter of -mervaile.</i></p> - -<p><i>But let us come now to our second reason, wherein, with farre greater -instance I will shew you, that he hath (in this occasion) shewen himselfe to -be much more wise, then you did, or have done: because it plainely appeareth, -that you have no feeling of the divine providence, and much lesse -knowledge in the effects of friendship. I say, that your foresight, councell -and deliberation, gave</i> Sophronia <i>to</i> Gisippus, <i>a young Gentleman, and -a Philosopher:</i> Gisippus <i>likewise hath given her to a young Gentleman, -and a Philosopher, as himselfe is. Your discretion gave her to an Athenian; -the gift of</i> Gisippus, <i>is to a Romaine. Yours, to a Noble and honest -man; that of</i> Gisippus, <i>to one more Noble by race, and no lesse -honest then himselfe. Your judgement hath bestowed her on a rich young -man:</i> Gisippus <i>hath given her to one farre richer. Your wisedome -gave her to one who not onely loved her not, but also one that had no -desire to know her:</i> Gisippus <i>gave her unto him, who, above all felicitie -else, yea, more than his owne life, both entirely loved and desired -her.</i></p> - -<p><i>Now, for proofe of that which I have said, to be most true and infallible, -and that his deede deserveth to bee much more commended then -yours, let it bee duely considered on, point by point. That I am a young -man and a Philosopher, as</i> Gisippus <i>is; my yeares, face, and studies, -without seeking after further proofe, doth sufficiently testifie: One -selfe-same age is both his and mine, in like quality of course have wee -lived and studied together. True it is, that hee is an Athenian, and -I am a Romaine. But if the glory of these two Cities should bee disputed -on: then let mee tell you, that I am of a Citie that is Francke and -Free, and hee is of a Tributarie Citie. I say, that I am of a Citie, -which is chiefe Lady and Mistresse of the whole World, and hee is of a -Citie subject to mine. I say that I am of a Citie, that is strong in Arms, -Empire, and studies: whereas his can commend it selfe but for Studies -onely. And although you see me heere to bee a Scholler, in appearance -meane enough, yet I am not descended of the simplest stocke in -Rome.</i></p> - -<p><i>My houses and publique places, are filled with the ancient Statues of -my Predecessors, and the Annales recorde the infinite triumphs of the -Quintii, brought home by them into the Romane Capitole, and yeares -cannot eate out the glory of our name, but it will live and flourish to all -posteritie.</i></p> - -<p><i>Modest shame makes me silent in my wealth and possessions, my minde -truely telling mee, that honest contented povertie, is the most ancient and -richest inheritance, of our best and Noblest Romanes, which opinion, -if it bee condemned by the understanding of the ignorant multitude, -and heerein wee shall give way to them by preferring riches and worldly -treasures, then I can say that I am aboundantly provided, not as ambitious, -or greedily covetous, but sufficiently stored with the goods of -Fortune.</i></p> - -<p><i>I know well enough, that you held it as a desired benefit,</i> Gisippus -<i>being a Native of your Citie, should also be linked to you by alliance: -but I know no reason, why I should not be as neere and deere to you at -Rome, as if I lived with you heere. Considering, when I am there, you -have a ready and well wishing friend, to stead you in all beneficiall and -serviceable offices, as carefull and provident for your support, yea, a -protectour of you and your affaires, as well publique as particular. -Who is it then, not transported with partiall affection, that can (in -reason) more approve your act, then that which my friend</i> Gisippus -<i>hath done? Questionlesse, not any one, as I thinke.</i> Sophronia <i>is -married to</i> Titus Quintus Fulvius, <i>a Noble Gentleman by antiquitie, -a rich Citizen of Rome, and (which is above all) the friend of</i> Gisippus: -<i>therfore, such a one as thinkes it strange, is sorrie for it, or would -not have it to be; knoweth not what he doth.</i></p> - -<p><i>Perhaps there may be some, who will say, they doe not so much complain, -that</i> Sophronia <i>is the wife to</i> Titus; <i>but of the manner whereby -it was done, as being made his wife secretly, and by theft, not any of -her parents, kinred or friends called thereto: no, nor so much as advertised -thereof. Why Gentlemen, this is no miraculous thing, but -heeretofore hath oftentimes happened, and therefore no noveltie.</i></p> - -<p><i>I cannot count unto you, how many there have beene, who (against -the will of their Fathers) have made choice of their husbands; nor -them that have fled away with their lovers into strange Countries, being -first friends, before they were wives: nor of them who have sooner -made testimonie of marriage by their bellies, then those ceremonies -due to matrimonie, or publication thereof by the tongue; so that meere -necessity & constraint, hath forced the parents to yeeld consent: which -hath not so happened to</i> Sophronia, <i>for she was given to me by</i> Gisippus -<i>discreetly, honestly, and orderly.</i></p> - -<p><i>Others also may say, that shee is married to him, to whom it belonged -not to marrie her. These complaints are foolish, and womanish, -proceeding from verie little, or no consideration at all. In these daies -of ours, Fortune makes no use of novell or inconsiderate meanes, whereby -to bring matters to their determined effect. Why should it offend -me, if a Cobler, rather than a Scholler, hath ended a businesse of mine, -either in private or publique, if the end be well made? Well I may take -order, if the Cobler bee indiscreet, that hee meddle no more with any -matters of mine, yet I ought, in courtesie, to thanke him for that which -hee did.</i></p> - -<p><i>In like manner, if</i> Gisippus <i>hath married</i> Sophronia <i>well, it is -foolish and superfluous, to finde fault with the manner hee used in her -marriage. If you mislike his course in the case, beware of him hereafter, -yet thanke him because it is no worse.</i></p> - -<p><i>Neverthelesse, you are to understand, that I sought not by fraud or -deceit, (but onely by witte) any opportunitie, whereby any way to sullie -the honestie and cleere Nobilitie of your bloud, in the person of</i> Sophronia: -<i>for although in secret I made her my wife, yet I came not as an enemie, -to take her perforce, nor (like a ravisher) wronged her virginitie, to -blemish your noble titles, or despising your alliance. But fervently, enflamed -by her bright beauty, and incited also by her unparalleld vertues, -I shaped my course; knowing well enough, that if I tooke the ordinarie -way of wiving, by moving the question to you, I should never winne your -consent, as fearing, lest I would take her with me to Rome, and so conveigh -out of your sight, a Jewell by you so much esteemed, as she is.</i></p> - -<p><i>For this, and no other reason, did I presume to use the secret cunning -which now is openly made knowne unto you: and</i> Gisippus <i>disposed -himselfe thereunto, which otherwise hee never determined to have -done, in contracting the marriage for mee, and shee consenting to me -in his name.</i></p> - -<p><i>Moreover, albeit most earnestly I affected her, I sought to procure -your union, not like a lover, but as a true husband, nor would I immodestly -touch her, till first (as herselfe can testifie) with the words becomming -wedlocke, and the Ring also I espoused her, demanding of her, -if shee would accept mee as her husband, and shee answered mee, with -her full consent. Wherein, if it may seeme that shee was deceived, I am -not any way to be blamed, but she, for not demanding, what, and who -I was.</i></p> - -<p><i>This then is the great evill, the great offence, and the great injurie -committed by my friend</i> Gisippus, <i>and by mee as a Lover: that</i> Sophronia -<i>is secretly become the wife of</i> Titus Quintus Fulvius. <i>And for this -cause, like spies you watch him, threaten him daily, as if you intended to -teare him in pieces. What could you doe more, if hee had given her to a -man of the very vilest condition? to a villaine, to a slave? What prisons? -what fetters? Or what torments are sufficient for this fact? But -leaving these frivolous matters, let us come to discourse of more moment, -and better beseeming your attention.</i></p> - -<p><i>The time is come, that I may no longer continue heere, because</i> Publius -<i>my Father is dead, and I must needs returne to Rome, wherefore being -minded to take</i> Sophronia <i>thither with mee, I was the more willing -to acquaint you therewith, as also what else I have said, which otherwise -had still beene concealed from you. Nor can you but take it in good part, -if you be wise, and rest well contented with what is done: considering, if -I had any intention eyther to deceive, or otherwise wrong you; I could -have basely left her, and made a scorne both of her and you, you not having -any power to stay mee heere. But the Gods will never permitte that -any couragious Romane, should ever conceive so vile and degenerate a -thought.</i></p> - -<p>Sophronia, <i>by ordination of the Gods, by force of humane Lawes, and -by the laudable consent of my friend</i> Gisippus, <i>as also the powerfull -command of Love is mine. But you perchance, imagining your selves to -be wiser then the Gods, or any other men whatsoever; may thinke ill of -it, and more brutishly then beasts, condemne their working in two kinds, -which would be offensive to mee. The one is your detaining of</i> Sophronia -<i>from mee, of whom you have no power, but what pleaseth mee. The -other, is your bitter threatnings against</i> Gisippus <i>my deare friend, to -whom you are in duty obliged. In both which cases, how unreasonablie -soever you carrie your selves, I intend not at this time to presse any further. -But rather let mee counsell you like a friend, to cease your hatred -and disdaine, and suffer</i> Sophronia <i>to be delivered mee, that I may depart -contentedly from you as a kinsman, and (being absent) remaine your -friend: assuring you, that whether what is done shall please or displease -you, if you purpose to proceed any otherwise: I will take</i> Gisippus <i>along -with mee, and when I come to Rome, take such sure order, to fetch -her hence, who in Justice is mine, even in meere despight of you all, and -then you shall feele by sound experience, how powerfull is the just indignation -of the wronged Romanes.</i></p></blockquote> - -<hr class="tb" /> -<p>When Titus had thus concluded his Oration, he arose with -a sterne and discontented countenance, and tooke <i>Gisippus</i> -by the hand, plainly declaring, that he made small account -of all the rest that were in the Temple; and shaking his head -at them, rather menaced then any other wise seemed to care for -them.</p> - -<p>They which tarried, when they were gone, considering partly -on the reasons alleadged by <i>Titus</i>, and partly terrified by his latest -speeches; became induced, to like well of his alliance and amitie, as -(with common consent) they concluded: that it was much better -to accept <i>Titus</i> as their kinsman (seeing <i>Gisippus</i> had made manifest -refusall thereof) than to lose the kinred of the one, and procure -the hatred of the other. Wherefore they went to seeke <i>Titus</i>, and -said unto him, they were very well contented that <i>Sophronia</i> should -bee his Wife, hee their deare and loving kinsman, and <i>Gisippus</i> -to remaine their much respected friend. And embracing one another, -making a solemne feast, such as in the like cases is necessarilie -required, they departed from him, presently sending <i>Sophronia</i> -to him, who making a vertue of necessity, converted her -love (in short time after) to <i>Titus</i>, in as effectuall manner, as -formerly shee had done to <i>Gisippus</i>, and so was sent away with -him to Rome, where she was received and welcommed with very -great honour.</p> - -<p><i>Gisippus</i> remaining still at <i>Athens</i>, in small regard of eyther theirs -or his owne friends: not long after by meanes of sundry troublesome -Citizens; and partialities happening among the common -people, was banished from <i>Athens</i>, and hee, as also all his familie, -condemned to perpetuall exile: during which tempestuous time, -<i>Gisippus</i> was become not onely wretchedly poore, but wandred abroad -as a common begger; in which miserable condition he travelled -to <i>Rome</i>, to try if <i>Titus</i> would take any acknowledgement of -him. Understanding that he was living, and one most respected among -the Romanes, as being a great Commander and a Senator: -he enquired for the place where hee dwelt, and going to be neere -about his house, stayed there so long, till <i>Titus</i> came home, yet -not daring to manifest himselfe, or speake a word to him, in regard -of his poore and miserable estate, but strove to have him see -him, to the end, that hee might acknowledge and call him by -his name; notwithstanding, <i>Titus</i> passed by him without either -speech, or looking on him. Which when <i>Gisippus</i> perceived, and -making full account, that (at the least) he would remember him, in -regard of former courtesies, done to him: confounded with griefe -and desperate thoughts, hee departed thence, never meaning to see -him any more.</p> - -<p>Now, in regard it was night, he having eaten nothing all that day, -nor provided of one penny to buy him any food, wandred he knew -not whether, desiring rather to die than live; hee came at last to an -old ruinous part of the City, over-spred with briers and bushes, and -seldome resorted unto by any: where finding a hollow Cave or -vault, he entred into it, meaning there to weare away the comfortlesse -night, and laying himselfe downe on the hard ground, almost -starke naked, and without any warme garments, over-wearied with -weeping, at last he fell into a sleepe.</p> - -<p>It fortuned that two men, who had beene abroad the same night, -committing thefts and robberies together; somwhat very earlie in -the morning, came to the same Cave, intending there to share and -divide their booties, and difference happening betweene them -about it, hee that was the stronger person, slew there the other, -and then went away with the whole purchase.</p> - -<p><i>Gisippus</i> having heard and seene the manner of this accident, was -not a little joyfulll, because he had now found a way to death, without -laying any violent hand on himselfe; for life being very loathsome -to him, it was his only desire to die. Wherefore, he would not -budge from the place, but taried there so long, till the Sergeants -and Officers of Justice (by information of him that did the deede) -came thither well attended, and furiously ledde <i>Gisippus</i> thence to -prison.</p> - -<p>Being examined concerning this bloudy fact, he plainly confessed, -that hee himselfe had committed the murder, and afterward -would not depart from the Cave, but purposely stayed for apprehension, -as being truely toucht with compunction for so foule an -offence: upon which peremptorie confession, <i>Marcus Varro</i> being -then <i>Prætor</i>, gave sentence that he should be crucified on a Crosse, -as it was the usuall manner of death in those dayes. <i>Titus</i> chancing -to come at the same time into <i>Prætorium</i>, advisedly beholding -the face of the condemned man (as hee sate upon the bench) knew -him to bee <i>Gisippus</i>, not a little wondring at this strange accident, -the povertie of his estate, and what occasion should bring him thither, -especially in the questioning for his life, and before the Tribunall -of Justice.</p> - -<p>His soule earnestly thirsting, by all possible meanes to helpe and -defend him, and no other course could now be taken for safetie of -his life, but by accusing himselfe, to excuse and cleare the other of -the crime: hee stept from off the judgement bench, and crouding -through the throng to the Barre, called out to the <i>Prætor</i> in this -manner. <i>Marcus Varro</i>, recall thy sentence given on the condemned -man sent away, because hee is truely guiltlesse and innocent: -With one bloudie blow have I offended the Gods, by killing that -wretched man, whom the Serjeants found this morning slaine, -wherefore Noble <i>Prætor</i>, let no innocent mans bloud be shed for -it, but onely mine that have offended.</p> - -<p><i>Marcus Varro</i> stood like a man confounded with admiration, being -very sorrie, for that which the whole assistants had both seene -and heard, yet hee could not (with honour) desist from what must -needs be done, but would performe the Lawes severe injunction. -And sending for condemned <i>Gisippus</i> backe againe, in the presence -of <i>Titus</i>, thus he spake to him. How becamest thou so madly incensed, -as (without any torment inflicted on thee) to confesse an offence -by thee never committed? Art thou wearie of thy life? Thou -chargest thy selfe falsly, to be the person who this last night murdered -the man in the Cave, and there is another that voluntarily also -doth confesse his guiltinesse.</p> - -<p><i>Gisippus</i> lifting up his eyes, and perceiving it was <i>Titus</i>, conceived -immediately, that he had done this onely for his deliverance, -as one that remembred him sufficiently, and would not be ungratefull -for former kindnesses received. Wherefore, the teares flowing -abundantly down his cheekes, he said to the Judge <i>Varro</i>, it was -none but I that murdered the man, wherefore, I commiserate the -case of this Noble Gentleman <i>Titus</i>, who speakes now too late for -the safety of my life. <i>Titus</i> on the other side, said. Noble Prætor, -this man (as thou seest) is a stranger heere, and was found without -any weapon, fast asleepe by the dead body: thou mayst then easily -perceive, that meerely the miserable condition wherein he is, hath -made him desperate, and he would make mine offence the occasion -of his death. Absolve him, and send me to the Crosse, for none but -I have deserved to die for this fact.</p> - -<p><i>Varro</i> was amazed, to observe with what earnest instance each of -them strove to excuse the other, which halfe perswaded him in his -soule, that they were both guiltlesse. And as he was starting up, with -full intent to acquaint them: a young man, who had stood there all -this while, and observed the hard pleading on either side; he crowded -into the Barre, being named <i>Publius Ambustus</i>, a fellow of -lewd life, and utterly out of hopes, as being debauched in all his fortunes, -and knowne among the <i>Romaines</i> to be a notorious theefe, -who verily had committed the murder. Well knew his conscience, -that none of them were guilty of the crime, wherewith each so -wilfully charged himselfe: being therefore truely toucht with remorse, -he stept before <i>Marcus Varro</i>, saying.</p> - -<p>Honourable Prætor, mine owne horrid and abominable actions, -have induced me thus to intrude my selfe, for clearing the strict -contention betweene these two persons. And questionlesse, some -God or greater power, hath tormented my wretched soule, and so -compunctually solicited me, as I cannot chuse, but make open confession -of my sinne. Here therefore, I doe apparantly publish, that -neither of these men is guilty of the offence, wherewith so wilfully -each chargeth himselfe. I am the villaine, who this morning murdered -the man in the Cave, one of no greater honesty then my selfe, -and seeing this poore man lie there sleeping, while we were dividing -the stolne booties betweene us; I slew my Companyon, because -I would be the sole possessor. As for Noble Lord <i>Titus</i>, he -had no reason thus to accuse himselfe, because is a man of no such -base quality: let them both then be delivered, and inflict the sentence -of death on me.</p> - -<p><i>Octavius Cæsar</i>, to whom tydings was brought of this rare accident, -commanding them al three to be brought before him; would -needs understand the whole History, in every particular as all had -happened, which was substantially related to him. Whereupon, -<i>Octavius</i> pleased them all three: the two noble friendes, because -they were innocent, and the third, for openly revealing the very -truth.</p> - -<p><i>Titus</i> tooke home with him his friend <i>Gisippus</i>, and after he had -sharpely reproved him for his distrust, and cold credence of his -friendship: he brought him to <i>Sophronia</i>, who welcomed him as -lovingly, as if he had bin her naturall borne brother, bemoaning -his hard and disastrous fortune, and taking especiall care, to convert -all passed distresses, into as happy and comfortable a change, fitting -him with garments and attendants, beseeming his degree both in -Nobility and vertue. <i>Titus</i>, out of his honourable bounty, imparted -halfe his lands and rich possessions to him, and afterward gave -him in marriage, his owne Sister, a most beautifull Lady, named -<i>Fulvia</i>, saying to him beside. My deare friend <i>Gisippus</i>, it remaineth -now in thine owne election, whether thou wilt live here still -with me, or returne backe to <i>Athens</i>, with all the wealth which I -have bestowed on thee. But <i>Gisippus</i>, being one way constrayned, -by the sentence of banishment from his native City, & then againe, -in regard of the constant love, which he bare to so true and thankefull -friend as <i>Titus</i> was: concluded to live there as a loyall <i>Roman</i>, -where he with his <i>Fulvia</i>, and <i>Titus</i> with his faire <i>Sophronia</i>, lived -long after together in one and the same house, augmenting daily -(if possible it might be) their amity beyond all other equalizing.</p> - -<p>A most sacred thing therefore is cordiall amity, worthy not onely -of singuler reverence, but also to be honoured with eternall -commendation, as being the onely wise Mother of all magnificence -and honesty, the Sister of Charity and Gratitude, the enemy -to hatred and avarice, and which is alwayes ready (without attending -to be requested) to extend all vertuous actions to others, -which she would have done to her selfe. Her rare and divine -effects, in these contrary times of ours, are not to be found between -two such persons, which is a mighty fault, and greatly checketh the -miserable covetousnesse of men, who respecting nothing but onely -their particular benefit; have banished true Amity, to the -utmost confines of the whole earth, and sent her into perpetuall -exile.</p> - -<p>What love, what wealth, or affinity of kindred, could have made -<i>Gisippus</i> feele (even in the intyrest part of his soule) the fervent -compassion, the teares, the sighes of <i>Titus</i>, and with such efficacy as -plainely appeared: to make him consent, that his faire elected -Spouse, by him so dearely esteemed, should become the wife of -his Companion, but onely the precious league of Amity? What -Lawes, what threatnings, what feares, could cause the young armes -of <i>Gisippus</i> to abstaine embraces, betaking himselfe to solitary -walkes, and obscure places, when in his owne bedde, he might have -enjoyed so matchlesse a beauty (who perhaps desired it so much as -himselfe) but onely the gracious title of Amity? What greatnesse, -what merits or precedence, could cause <i>Gisippus</i> not to care, for the -losse of his kindred, those of <i>Sophronia</i>, yea, of <i>Sophronia</i> her selfe, -not respecting the dishonest murmurings of base minded people, -their vile and contemptible language, scornes and mockeries, -and all to content and satisfie a friend, but onely Divine Amity?</p> - -<p>Come now likewise to the other side. What occasions could -compell Noble <i>Titus</i>, so promptly and deliberatly, to procure his -owne death, to rescue his friend from the crosse, and inflict the pain -and shame upon himselfe, pretending not see or know <i>Gisippus</i> at -all, had it not bin wrought by powerfull Amity? What cause else -could make <i>Titus</i> so liberall, in dividing (with such willingnesse) the -larger part of his patrimony to <i>Gisippus</i>, when Fortune had dispossest -him of his owne, but onely heaven-borne Amity? What else -could have procured <i>Titus</i> without any further dilation, feare or -suspition, to give his Sister <i>Fulvia</i> in marriage to <i>Gisippus</i>, when he -saw him reduced to such extreame poverty, disgrace and misery, -but onely infinite Amity? To what end doe men care then, to covet -and procure great multitudes of kinred, store of brethren, numbers -of children, and to encrease (with their owne monyes) plenty -of servants: when by the least losse and dammage happening, -they forget all duty to Father, Brother, or Master? Amity and true -friendship is of a quite contrary nature, satisfying (in that sacred -bond) the obligation due to all degrees, both of parentage, and all -alliences else.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="Saladine_the_great_Soldan_of_Babylon_in_the_habite_of_a_Merchant" id="Saladine_the_great_Soldan_of_Babylon_in_the_habite_of_a_Merchant">Saladine, <i>the great</i> Soldan <i>of</i> Babylon, <i>in the habite of a Merchant, -was honourably received and welcommed, into the house of Signior</i> -Thorello d'Istria. <i>Who travelling to the Holy Land, prefixed a -certaine time to his Wife, for his returne backe to her againe, wherein, -if he failed, it was lawfull for her to take another Husband. By -clouding himselfe in the disguise of a Faulkner, the</i> Soldan <i>tooke -notice of him, and did him many great honours. Afterward,</i> Thorello -<i>falling sicke, by Magicall Art, he was conveighed in one night -to</i> Pavia, <i>when his Wife was to be married on the morrow: where -making himselfe knowne to her, all was disappointed, and shee went -home with him to his owne house.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Ninth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Declaring what an honourable vertue Courtesie is, in them that truely -know how to use them.</i></h4> - - -<p>Madam <i>Philomena</i> having concluded her discourse, and -the rare acknowledgement, which <i>Titus</i> made of his -esteemed friend <i>Gisippus</i>, extolled justly as it deserved by -all the Company: the King, reserving the last office to <i>Dioneus</i> (as -it was at the first granted him) began to speake thus. Without all -question to the contrary (worthy Ladies) nothing can be more truely -said, then what Madame <i>Philomena</i>, hath delivered, concerning -Amity, and her complaint in the conclusion of her Novell, is not -without great reason, to see it so slenderly reverenced and respected -(now-a-dayes) among all men. But if we had met here in duty onely -for correcting the abuses of iniquity, and the malevolent courses -of this preposterous age; I could proceed further in this just cause -of complaint. But because our end aimeth at matters of other nature, -it commeth to my memory to tel you of a History, which (perhaps) -may seeme somewhat long, but altogether pleasant, concerning a -magnificent act of great <i>Saladine</i>: to the end, that by observing -those things which you shall heare in my Novell, if we cannot (by -reason of our manifold imperfections) intirely compasse the amity -of any one; yet (at least) we may take delight, in stretching our kindnesse -(in good deeds) so farre as we are able, in hope one day after, -some worthy reward will ensue thereon, as thereto justly appertaining.</p> - -<p>Let me tell you then, that (as it is affirmed by many) in the time -of the Emperour Frederick, first of that name, the Christians, for -the better recovery of the holy land, resolved to make a generall -voyage over the Seas. Which being understood by <i>Saladine</i>, a -very worthy Prince, and then <i>Soldan</i> of Babylon: he concluded -with himselfe, that he would (in person) goe see, what preparation -the Christian Potentates made for this Warre, that hee might the -better provide for himselfe. Having setled all things orderly in -Ægypt for the busines, and making an outward appearance, as if he -purposed a pilgrimage to <i>Mecha</i>: he set onward on his journey, -habited like a Merchant, attended onely with two of his most Noble -and wisest Baschaes, and three waiting servants.</p> - -<p>When he had visited many Christian Provinces, and was riding -thorow <i>Lombardie</i>, to passe the mountaines; it fortuned, in his journeying -from <i>Millaine</i> to <i>Pavia</i>, and the day being very farre spent, -so that night hastened speedily on him: he met with a Gentleman, -named Signior <i>Thorello d'Istria</i>, but dwelling at <i>Pavia</i>, who with -his men, Hawkes and Hounds, went to a house of his, seated in a -singular place, and on the River of <i>Ticinum</i>. Signior <i>Thorello</i> seeing -such men making towardes him, presently imagined, that they -were some Gentle-strangers, and such hee desired to respect with -honour.</p> - -<p>Wherefore, <i>Saladine</i> demanding of one of <i>Thorelloes</i> men, how -farre (as then) it was to <i>Pavia</i>, and whether they might reach thither -by such an houre, as would admit their entrance into the City: -<i>Thorello</i> would not suffer his servant to returne the answer, but -replyed thus himselfe. Sir (quoth he) you cannot reach <i>Pavia</i>, but -night will abridge you of any entraunce there. I beseech you then -Sir, answered <i>Saladine</i>, favour us so much (because we are all strangers -in these parts) as to tell us where we may be well lodged. That -shal I Sir, said <i>Thorello</i>, and very gladly too.</p> - -<p>Even at the instant Sir, as we met with you, I had determined in -my mind, to send one of my servants somewhat neere to <i>Pavia</i>, about -a businesse concerning my selfe: he shall go along with you, -and conduct you to a place, where you will be very well entertayned. -So, stepping to him, who was of best discretion amongst his -men, he gave order to him what should bee done, and sent him -with them. Himselfe, making hast by a farre neerer way, caused -Supper to be prepared in worthy manner, and the Tables to be covered -in his Garden; and all things being in good readinesse, he sate -downe at his doore, to attend the comming of his guests. The Servingman, -discoursing with the Gentlemen on divers occasions, guided -them by such unusuall passages, as (before they could discerne -it) he brought them to his Masters house; where so soone as <i>Thorello</i> -saw them arrived, he went forth to meet them, assuring them all of -most hearty welcome.</p> - -<p><i>Saladine</i>, who was a man of accute understanding, did well perceive, -that this Knight <i>Thorello</i> misdoubted his going with him, if -(when he met him) hee should have invited him; and therefore, because -he would not be denied, of entertaining him into his house; -he made choise of this kinde and honourable course, which caused -him to returne this answer. Gentle Sir, if courtesie in one man to -another, do deserve condemning, then may we justly complaine of -you, who meeting us upon the way, which you have shortened by -your kindnesse; and which we are no way able to deserve, wee are -constrained to accept, taking you to bee the mirrour of courtesie. -<i>Thorello</i> being a Knight of ingenious apprehension, and wel languaged, -replyed thus.</p> - -<p>Gentlemen; this courtesie (seeing you terme it so) which you -receive of me, in regard of that justly belonging to you, as your faces -do sufficiently informe mee, is matter of very slender account. -But assuredly out of <i>Pavia</i>, you could not have any lodging, deserving -to be termed good. And therefore, let it not bee displeasing -to you, if you have a little gone forth of the common rode way, to -have your entertainment somewhat bettered, as many travaylers -are easily induced to do.</p> - -<p>Having thus spoken, all the people of the house shewed themselves, -in serviceable manner to the Gentlemen, taking their horses -as they dismounted, and <i>Thorello</i> himselfe, conducted the three -Gentlemen, into three severall faire Chambers, which in costly manner -were prepared for them, where their boots were pluckt off, faire -Napkins with Manchets lay ready, and delicate Wines to refresh -their wearied spirits, much pretty conference being entercoursed, til -Supper time invited them thence.</p> - -<p><i>Saladine</i>, and they that were with him, spake the Latine tongue -very readily, by which meanes they were the better understoode; -and <i>Thorello</i> seemed (in their judgement) to bee the most gracious, -compleate, and best spoken Gentleman, as ever they met with in all -their journey. It appeared also (on the other side) to Signiour <i>Thorello</i>, -that his guests were men of great merit, and worthy of much -more esteeme, then there he could use towards them: wherefore, it -did highly distast him, that he had no more friends there this night -to keepe them company, or himselfe better provided for their entertainment, -which hee intended (on the morrow) to recompence -with larger amends at dinner.</p> - -<p>Heereupon, having instructed one of his men with what hee intended, -he sent him to <i>Pavia</i>, which was not farre off (and where he -kept no doore shut) to his Wife, named Madam <i>Adalietta</i>; a Woman -singularly wise, and of a Noble spirit, needing little or no direction, -especially when she knew her Husbands minde. As they were -walking in the Garden, <i>Thorello</i> desired to understand, of whence, -and what they were? Whereto <i>Saladine</i> thus answered. Sir, wee -are <i>Cyprian</i> Marchants, comming now from <i>Cyprus</i>, and are travailing -to <i>Paris</i>, about affaires of importance. Now trust me Syr, replyed -<i>Thorello</i>, I could heartily wish, that this Countrey of ours -would yeeld such Gentlemen, as your <i>Cyprus</i> affordeth Marchants. -So, falling from one discourse unto another, Supper was served in; -and looke howe best themselves pleased, so they sate at the Table, -where (we neede make no doubt) they were respected in honourable -order.</p> - -<p>So soone as the Tables were withdrawne, <i>Thorello</i> knowing they -might be weary, brought them againe to their Chambers, where -committing them to their good rest, himselfe went to bed soone after. -The Servant sent to <i>Pavia</i>, delivered the message to his Lady; -who, not like a woman of ordinary disposition, but rather truely -Royall, sent <i>Thorelloes</i> servants into the City, to make preparation -for a Feast indeed, and with lighted Torches (because it was somewhat -late) they invited the very greatest and noblest persons of the -Citie, all the roomes being hanged with the richest Arras, Clothes -of Golde worke, Velvets, Silkes, and all other rich adornments, in -such manner as her husband had commanded, and answerable to -her owne worthy mind, being no way to learne, in what manner to -entertaine strangers.</p> - -<p>On the morrow morning, the Gentlemen arose, and mounting -on horsebacke with Signior <i>Thorello</i>, he called for his Hawkes and -Hounds, brought them to the River, where he shewed two or three -faire flights: but <i>Saladine</i> desiring to know, which was the fayrest -Hostery in all <i>Pavia, Thorello</i> answered. Gentlemen, I wil shew you -that my selfe, in regard I have occasion to ride thither. Which they -beleeving, were the better contented, and rode on directly unto <i>Pavia</i>; -arriving there about nine of the clocke, and thinking he guided -them to the best Inne, he brought them to his owne house; where, -above fifty of the worthiest Citizens, stood ready to welcome the -Gentlemen, imbracing them as they lighted from their Horsses. -Which <i>Saladine</i>, and his associates perceiving, they guessed as it -was indeede, and <i>Saladine</i> sayd. Beleeve me worthy <i>Thorello</i>, this -is not answerable to my demand; you did too much yester-night, -and much more then we could desire or deserve: Wherefore, you -might wel be the sooner discharged of us, and let us travaile on our -journey.</p> - -<p>Noble Gentlemen, replyed <i>Thorello</i> (for in mine eye you seeme -no lesse) that courtesie which you met with yester-night, I am to -thanke Fortune for, more then you, because you were then straited -by such necessity, as urged your acceptance of my poore Country -house. But now this morning, I shall account my selfe much beholding -to you (as the like will all these worthy Gentlemen here about -you) if you do but answer kindnes with kindnes, and not refuse -to take a homely dinner with them.</p> - -<p><i>Saladine</i> and his friends, being conquerd with such potent perswasions, -and already dismounted from their horses, saw that all -deniall was meerly in vaine: and therefore thankfully condiscending -(after some few ceremonious complements were over-past) the -Gentlemen conducted them to their Chambers, which were most -sumptuously prepared for them, and having laid aside their riding -garments, being a little refreshed with Cakes and choice Wines: -they descended into the dining Hall, the pompe whereof I am not -able to report.</p> - -<p>When they had washed, and were seated at the Tables, dinner -was served in most magnificent sort; so that if the Emperor himself -had bin there, he could not have bin more sumptuously served. And -although <i>Saladine</i> and his Baschaes were very Noble Lords, and -wonted to see matters of admiration: yet could they do no lesse -now, but rather exceeded in marvaile, considering the qualitie of -the Knight, whom they knew to bee a Citizen, and no Prince or -great Lord. Dinner being ended, and divers familiar conferences -passing amongst them: because it was exceeding hot, the Gentlemen -of <i>Pavia</i> (as it pleased <i>Thorello</i> to appoint) went to repose -themselves awhile, and he keeping company with his three guests, -brought them into a goodly Chamber, where, because he would -not faile in the least scruple of courtesie, or conceale from them the -richest Jewell which he had; he sent for his Lady and wife, because -(as yet) they had not seene her.</p> - -<p>She was a Lady of extraordinary beauty, tall stature, very sumptuously -attired, and having two sweet Sonnes (resembling Angels) -she came with them waiting before her, and graciously saluted her -guests. At her comming, they arose, and having received hir with -great reverence, they seated her in the midst, kindly cherishing the -two Children. After some gracious Language past on eyther side, -she demanded of whence, and what they were, which they answered -in the same kind as they had done before to her husband. Afterward, -with a modest smiling countenance, she sayd. Worthy -Gentlemen, let not my weake Womanish discretion appeare distastable, -in desiring to crave one especiall favour from you, namely, -not to refuse or disdaine a small gift, wherewith I purpose to present -you. But considering first, that women (according to their simple -faculty) are able to bestow but silly gifts: so you would be pleased, -to respect more the person that is the giver, then the quality or -quantity of the gift.</p> - -<p>Then causing to be brought (for each of them) two goodly gowns -or Robes (made after the <i>Persian</i> manner) the one lyned thorough -with cloth of Gold, and the other with the costlyest Fur; not after -such fashion as Citizens or Marchants use to weare, but rather beseeming -Lords of greatest account, and three light under-wearing -Cassocks or Mandillions, of Carnatian Sattin, richly Imbroidred -with Gold and Pearles, and lined thorow with White Taffata, presenting -these gifts to him, she sayd. I desire you Gentlemen to receive -these meane trifles, such as you see my Husband weares the -like, and these other beside, considering you are so far from your -Wives, having travailed a long way already, and many miles more -yet to overtake; also Marchants (being excellent men) affect to be -comely and handsome in their habits; although these are of slender -value, yet (in necessity) they may do you service.</p> - -<p>Now was <i>Saladine</i> and his Baschaes halfe astonyed with admiration, -at the magnificent minde of Signiour <i>Thorello</i>, who would -not forget the least part of courtesie towardes them, and greatly -doubted (seeing the beauty and riches of the Garments) least they -were discovered by <i>Thorello</i>. Neverthelesse, one of them thus answered -the Lady. Beleeve me Madame, these are rich guiftes, not -lightly either to be given, or receyved: but in regard of your strict -imposition, we are not able to deny them. This being done, with -most gracious and courteous demeanour, she departed from them, -leaving her Husband to keepe them still companie; who furnished -their servants also, with divers worthy necessaries fitting for their -journey.</p> - -<p>Afterward, <i>Thorello</i> (by very much importunitie) wonne them -to stay with him all the rest of the day; wherefore, when they had -rested themselves awhile, being attyred in their newly given robes; -they rode on Horsebacke thorow the City. When supper time -came, they supt in most honourable and worthy company, beeing -afterwards Lodged in most faire and sumptuous Chambers, and -being risen in the morning, in exchange of their horses (over-wearied -with Travaile) they found three other very richly furnished, and -their men also in like manner provided. Which when <i>Saladine</i> -had perceyved, he tooke his Baschaes aside, and spake in this manner.</p> - -<p>By our greatest Gods, I never met with any man, more compleat -in all noble perfections, more courteous and kinde then <i>Thorello</i> is. -If all the Christian Kings, in the true and heroicall nature of Kings, -do deale as honourably as I see this Knight doeth, the Soldane of -<i>Babylon</i> is not able to endure the comming of one of them, much -lesse so many, as wee see preparing to make head against us. But -beholding, that both refusall and acceptation, was all one in the -minde of <i>Thorello</i>: after much kinde Language had bin intercoursed -betweene them, <i>Saladine</i> (with his Attendants) mounted on -horsebacke.</p> - -<p>Signiour <i>Thorello</i>, with a number of his honourable Friends (to -the number of an hundred Horsse) accompanied them a great distance -from the Citie, and although it greeved <i>Saladine</i> exceedingly, -to leave the company of <i>Thorello</i>, so dearely he was affected to -him; but necessity (which controlleth the power of all lawes whatsoever) -must needs divide them: yet requesting his returne agayne -that way, if possibly it might be granted; which <i>Saladine</i> promised -but did not performe. Well Gentlemen (quoth <i>Thorello</i> at parting) -I know not what you are, neither (against your will) do I desire it: -but whether you be Marchants or no, remember me in your kindnesse, -and so to the heavenly powers I commend you. <i>Saladine</i>, having -taken his leave of all them that were with <i>Thorello</i>, returned -him this answer. Sir, it may one day hereafter so happen, as we shal -let you see some of our Marchandises, for the better confirmation -of your beleefe, and our profession.</p> - -<p>Thus parted Signior <i>Thorello</i> and his friends, from <i>Saladine</i> and -his company, who verily determined in the heighth of his minde, -if he should be spared with life, and the warre (which he expected) -concluded: to requite <i>Thorello</i> with no lesse courtesie, then hee had -already declared to him; conferring a long while after with his -Baschaes, both of him and his beauteous Lady, not forgetting any -of their courteous actions, but gracing them all with deserved commendation. -But after they had (with very laborious paines) surveyed -most of the Westerne parts, they all tooke Shipping, and returned -into <i>Alexandria</i>: sufficiently informed, what preparation -was to be made for their owne defence. And Signior <i>Thorello</i> being -come backe againe to <i>Pavia</i>, consulted with his privat thoughts -(many times after) what these three travailers should be, but came -farre short of knowing the truth, till (by experience) hee became -better informed.</p> - -<p>When the time was come, that the Christians were to make -their passage, and wonderfull great preparations, in all places performed: -Signiour <i>Thorello</i>, notwithstanding the teares and intreaties -of his Wife, determined to be one in so woorthy and honourable -a voyage: and having made his provision ready, nothing wanting -but mounting on Horsebacke, to go where he should take shipping; -to his Wife (whom he most intirely affected) thus hee spake. -Madame, I goe as thou seest in this famous Voyage, as well for -mine Honour, as also the benefite of my soule; all our goodes and -possessions, I commit to thy vertuous care. And because I am not -certaine of my returning backe againe, in regard of a thousand accidents -which may happen, in such a Countrey as I goe unto: I desire -onely but one favour of thee, whatsoever daunger shall befall -mee; Namely, when any certaine tydings shall be brought mee of -my death; to stay no longer before thy second marriage, but one -yeare, one month, and one day; to begin on this day of my departing -from thee.</p> - -<p>The Lady, who wept exceedingly, thus answered. Alas Sir: I -know not how to carry my selfe, in such extremity of greefe, as now -you leave me; but if my life surmount the fortitude of sorrow, and -whatsoever shall happen to you for certainty, either life or death: -I will live and dye the Wife of Signiour <i>Thorello</i>, and make my obsequies -in his memory onely.</p> - -<p>Not so Madame (replyed her Husband) not so; Be not overrash -in promising any thing, albeit I am well assured, that so much as -consisteth in thy strength, I make no question of thy performance. -But consider withall (deare heart) thou art a young woman, beautifull, -of great parentage, and no way thereto inferior in the blessings -of Fortune.</p> - -<p>Thy Vertues are many, and universally both divulged and knowen, -in which respect, I make no doubt; but divers and sundrie -great Lords and Gentlemen (if but the least rumour of my death be -noysed) will make suite for thee to thy parents and brethren, from -whose violent solicitings, wouldst thou never so resolutely make resistance, -yet thou canst not be able to defend thy selfe; but whether -thou wilt or no, thou must yeeld to please them; and this is the only -reason, why I would tie thee to this limited time, and not one day -or minute longer.</p> - -<p><i>Adalietta</i>, sweetly hugging him in her armes, and melting her -selfe in kisses, sighes, and teares on his face, said. Well Sir, I will do -so much as I am able, in this your most kinde and loving imposition: -and when I shall bee compelled to the contrary: yet rest thus -constantly assured, that I will not breake this your charge, so much -as in thought. Praying ever heartily to the heavenly powers, that -they will direct your course home againe to me, before your prefixed -date, or else I shall live in continuall languishing. In the knitting -up of this woful parting, embracing and kissing either infinite times, -the Lady tooke a Ring from off her finger, and giving it to her husband, -said. If I chaunce to die before I see you againe, remember -me when you looke on this. He receiving the Ring, and bidding all -the rest of his Friends farewell, mounted on horsebacke, and rode -away wel attended.</p> - -<p>Being come unto <i>Geneway</i>, he and his company boorded a Galley, -and (in few dayes after) arrived at <i>Acres</i>, where they joyned -themselves with the Christian Army, wherein there happened a -verie dangerous mortality: During which time of so sharpe visitation -(the cause unknowne whence it proceeded) whether thorough -the industrie, or rather the good Fortune of <i>Saladine</i>, well-neere -all the rest of the Christians (which escaped death) were -surprized his prisoner (without a blow strucken) and sundred and -imprisoned in divers Townes and Citties. Amongest the which -number of prisoners, it was Signior <i>Thorelloes</i> chaunce to be one, -and walked in bonds to <i>Alexandria</i>, where being unknowne, and -fearing least he should be discovered: constrained thereto meerly -by necessity, hee shewed himselfe in the condition of a Faulconer; -wherein he was very excellently experienced, and by which means -his profession was made knowne to <i>Saladine</i>, hee delivered out of -prison, and created the Soldans Faulconer.</p> - -<p><i>Thorello</i> (whom the Soldane called by no other name, then the -Christian, neyther of them knowing the other) sadly now remembred -his departure from <i>Pavia</i>, devising and practising many -times, how he might escape thence, but could not compasse it by any -possible meanes. Wherefore, certaine Ambassadours beeing -sent by the <i>Genewaye</i>, to redeeme divers Cittizens of theirs, there -detained as prisoners, and being ready to returne home againe: he -purposed to write to his Wife, that he was living, and wold repaire -to her so soone as he could, desiring the still continued rememberance -of her limited time. By close and cunning meanes hee wrote -the Letter, earnestly intreating one of the Ambassadors (who knew -him perfectly, but made no outward apparance thereof) to deale in -such sort for him, that the Letter might be delivered to the handes -of the Abbot <i>Di San Pietro in Ciel d'Oro</i>, who was (indeede) his -Uncle.</p> - -<p>While <i>Thorello</i> remayned in this his Faulconers condition, it -fortuned uppon a day, that <i>Saladine</i>, conversing with him about -his Hawkes: <i>Thorello</i> chanced to smile, and used such a kinde of -gesture or motion with his Lippes, which <i>Saladine</i> (when he was in -his house at <i>Pavia</i>) had heedfully observed, and by this note, instantly -he remembred Signior <i>Thorello</i>, and began to eye him very -respectively, perswading himselfe that he was the same man. And -therefore falling from their former kinde of discoursing: Tell mee -Christian (quoth <i>Saladine</i>) what Country-man art thou of the -West? Sir, answered Signiour <i>Thorello</i>, I am by Country a Lombard, -borne in a City called <i>Pavia</i>, a poore man, and of as poore -condition.</p> - -<p>So soone as <i>Saladine</i> had heard these Words; becomming assured -in that which (but now) he doubted, he saide within himselfe. -Now the Gods have given me time, wherein I may make knowne -to this man, how thankefully I accepted his kinde courtesie, and -cannot easily forget it. Then, without saying any thing else, causing -his Guard-robe to be set open, he tooke him with him thither, -and sayde. Christian, observe well all these Garments, and quicken -thy remembrance, in telling mee truly, whether thou hast seene -any of them before now, or no. Signiour <i>Thorello</i> looked on them -all advisedly, and espyed those two especiall Garments, which his -Wife had given one of the strange Merchants; yet he durst not credit -it, or that possibly it could be the same, neverthelesse he said. Sir, -I doe not know any of them, but true it is, that these two doe resemble -two such Robes, as I was wont to weare my selfe, and these -(or the like) were given to three Merchants, that happened to visite -my poore house.</p> - -<p>Now could <i>Saladine</i> containe no longer, but embracing him -joyfullly in his armes, he said. You are Signior <i>Thorello d'Istria</i>, and -I am one of those three Merchants, to whom your Wife gave these -Roabes: and now the time is come to give you credible intelligence -of my Merchandise, as I promised at my departing from you, for -such a time (I told you) would come at length. <i>Thorello</i>, was both -glad, and bashfull together: glad, that he had entertained such a -Guest, and bashfully ashamed, that his welcome had not exceeded -in more bountifull manner. <i>Thorello</i>, replyed <i>Saladine</i>, seeing the -Gods have sent you so happily to me: account your selfe to be soly -Lord here, for I am now no more then a private man.</p> - -<p>I am not able to expresse their counterchanges of courtesie, <i>Saladine</i> -commanding him to be cloathed in Royall garments, and -brought into the presence of his very greatest Lords, where having -spoken liberally in his due commendation, he commanded them -to honour him as himselfe, if they expected any grace or favour -from him, which every one did immediately, but (above all the rest) -those two Baschaes, which accompanied <i>Saladine</i> at his house. The -greatnesse of this pompe and glory, so suddenly throwne on Signior -<i>Thorello</i>, made him halfe forget all matters of <i>Lomberdie</i>; and -so much the rather, because he had no doubt at all, but that his letters, -were safely come to the hands of his Uncle.</p> - -<p>Here I am to tell you, that in the Campe or Army of the Christians, -on the day when <i>Saladine</i> made his surprizall, there was a -Provinciall Gentleman dead and buried, who was Signior <i>Thorello -de Dignes</i>, a man of very honourable and great esteeme, in which -respect (Signior <i>Thorello d'Istria</i>, knowne throughout the Army, by -his Nobility and valour) whosoever heard that Signior <i>Thorello</i> -was dead: beleeved it to be <i>Thorello d'Istria</i>, and not he of <i>Dignes</i>, -so that <i>Thorello d'Istriaes</i> unknowne surprizall and thraldome, made -it also to passe for an assured truth.</p> - -<p>Beside, many Italians returning home, and carrying this report -for credible; some were so audaciously presumptuous, as they avouched -upon their oathes, that not onely they saw him dead, but -were present at his buriall likewise. Which rumour comming to -the eare of his Wife, and likewise to his kinred and hers: procured -a great and grievous mourning among them, and all that happened -to heare thereof.</p> - -<p>Over-tedious time it would require, to relate at large, the publique -griefe and sorrow, with the continuall lamentations of his -Wife, who (within some few moneths after) became tormented -with new marriage solicitings, before she had halfe sighed for the -first: the very greatest persons of <i>Lomberdie</i> making the motion, -being daily followed and furthered by her owne brothers and -friends. Still (drowned in teares) she returned denyall, till in the -end, when no contradiction could prevaile, to satisfie her parents, -and the importunate pursuers: she was constrained to reveale, the -charge imposed on her by her Husband, which shee had vowed infallibly -to keepe, and till that very time, she would in no wise consent.</p> - -<p>While wooing for a second wedding with <i>Adalietta</i>, proceeded -in this manner at <i>Pavia</i>, it chanced on a day, that Signior <i>Thorello</i> -had espied a man in <i>Alexandria</i>, whom he saw with the <i>Geneway</i> -Ambassadours, when they set thence towards <i>Geneway</i> with -their Gallies. And causing him to be sent for, he demaunded of -him, the successe of the voyage, and when the Gallies arrived at <i>Geneway</i>; -whereto he returned him this answere. My Lord, our Gallies -made a very fatall voyage, as it is (already) too well knowne in -<i>Creete</i>, where my dwelling is. For when we drew neere <i>Sicilie</i>, -there suddenly arose a very dangerous North-West-winde, which -drove us on the quicke-Sands of <i>Barbarie</i>, where not any man escaped -with life, onely my selfe excepted, but (in the wracke) two of -my brethren perished.</p> - -<p>Signior <i>Thorello</i>, giving credit to the mans words, because they -were most true indeed, and remembring also, that the time limitted -to his Wife, drew neere expiring within very few dayes, and no -newes now possibly to be sent thither of his life, his Wife would -questionlesse be marryed againe: he fell into such a deepe conceited -melancholly, as food and sleepe forsooke him, whereupon, he -kept his bed, setting downe his peremptory resolution for death. -When <i>Saladine</i> (who dearely loved him) heard thereof, he came in -all haste to see him, and having (by many earnest perswasions and -entreaties) understood the cause of his melancholly and sickenesse: -he very severely reproved him, because he could no sooner acquaint -him therewith. Many kind and comfortable speeches, he -gave him, with constant assurance, that (if he were so minded) he -would so order the businesse for him; as he should be at <i>Pavia</i>, by -the same time as he had appointed to his Wife, and revealed to him -also the manner how.</p> - -<p><i>Thorello</i> verily beleeved the <i>Soldanes</i> promise, because he had -often heard the possibility of performance, and others had effected -as much, divers times else-where: whereupon he began to comfort -himselfe, soliciting the <i>Soldan</i> earnestly that it might be accomplished. -<i>Saladine</i> sent for one of his Sorcerers (of whose skill he had -formerly made experience) to take a direct course, how Signior -<i>Thorello</i> should be carryed (in one night) to <i>Pavia</i>, and being in his -bed. The Magitian undertooke to doe it, but, for the Gentlemans -more ease, he must first be possessed with an entraunced dead sleep. -<i>Saladine</i> being thus assured of the deeds full effecting, he came againe -to <i>Thorello</i>, and finding him to be setled for <i>Pavia</i> (if possibly -it might be accomplished by the determined time, or else no other -expectation but death) he said unto him as followeth.</p> - -<p>Signior <i>Thorello</i>, if with true affection you love your Wife, and -misdoubt her marriage to some other man: I protest unto you, by -the supreme powers, that you deserve no reprehension in any -manner whatsoever. For, of all the Ladyes that ever I have seene, -she is the onely woman, whose carriage, vertues, and civile speaking -(setting aside beauty, which is but a fading flower) deserveth most -graciously to be respected, much more to be affected in the highest -degree. It were to me no meane favour of our Gods, (seeing Fortune -directed your course so happily hither) that for the short or -long time we have to live, we might reigne equally together in -these Kingdomes under my subjection. But if such grace may not -be granted me, yet, seeing it stands mainly upon the perill of your -life, to be at <i>Pavia</i> againe by your own limitted time, it is my chiefest -comfort, that I am therewith acquainted, because I intended to -have you conveighed thither, yea, even into your owne house, in -such honourable order as your vertues doe justly merit, which in -regard it cannot be so conveniently performed, but as I have already -informed you, and as the necessity of the case urgently commandeth; -accept it as it may be best accomplished.</p> - -<p>Great <i>Saladine</i> (answered <i>Thorello</i>) effects (without words) have -already sufficiently warranted your Gracious disposition towards -me, farre beyond any requitall remayning in me; your word onely -being enough for my comfort in this case, either dying or living. -But in regard you have taken such order for my departure hence, -I desire to have it done with all possible expedition, because to morrow -is the very last day, that I am to be absent. <i>Saladine</i> protested -that it should be done, and the same evening in the great Hall of -his Pallace, commanded a rich and costly Bedde to be set up, the -mattras formed after the <i>Alexandrian</i> manner, of Velvet and cloth -Gold, the Quilts, counter-points and coverings, sumptuously imbroydered -with Orient Pearles and Precious Stones, supposed to -be of inestimable value, and two rarely wrought Pillowes, such as -best beseemed so stately a Bedde, the Curtaines and Vallans every -way equall to the other pompe.</p> - -<p>Which being done, he commanded that <i>Thorello</i> (who was indifferently -recovered) should be attyred in one of his owne sumptuous -<i>Saracine</i> Roabes, the very fairest and richest that ever was -seene, and on his head a Majesticall Turbant, after the manner of -his owne wearing, and the houre appearing to be somewhat late, he -with many of his best Baschaes, went to the Chamber where <i>Thorello</i> -was, and sitting downe a while by him, in teares thus he spake. -Signior <i>Thorello</i>, the houre for sundering you and me, is now very -neere, and because I cannot beare you company, in regard of the -businesse you goe about, and which by no meanes will admit it: -I am to take my leave of you in this Chamber, and therefore am -purposely come to doe it. But before I bid you farewell, let me -entreat you, by the love and friendship confirmed betweene us, to -be mindfull of me, and to take such order (your affaires being fully -finished in <i>Lombardie</i>) that I may once more enjoy the sight of you -here, for a mutuall solace and satisfaction of our mindes, which are -now divided by this urgent hast. Till which may be granted, let -me want no visitation of your kind letters, commanding thereby of -me, whatsoever here can possibly be done for you; assuring your -selfe, no man living can command me as you doe.</p> - -<p>Signior <i>Thorello</i> could not forbeare weeping, but being much -hindred thereby, answered in few words. That he could not possibly -forget, his Gracious favours and extraordinary benefits used towards -him, but would accomplish whatsoever hee commaunded, -according as heaven did enable him.</p> - -<p>Hereupon, <i>Saladine</i> embracing him, and kissing his forehead, -said. All my Gods goe with you, and guard you from any perill, -departing so out of the Chamber weeping, and his Baschaes (having -likewise taken their leave of <i>Thorello</i>) followed <i>Saladine</i> into -the Hall, whereas the Bedde stood readily prepared. Because -it waxed very late, and the Magitian also there attending for his -dispatch: the Phisitian went with the potion to <i>Thorello</i>, and -perswading him, in the way of friendship, that it was onely to -strengthen him after his great Weaknes: he drank it off, being thereby -immediately entraunced, and so presently sleeping, was (by -<i>Saladines</i> command) laid on the sumptuous and costly Bed, whereon -stood an Imperiall Crowne of infinite value, appearing -(by a description engraven on it) that <i>Saladine</i> sent it to Madame -<i>Adalietta</i>, the wife of <i>Thorello</i>. On his finger also hee put a Ring, -wherein was enchased an admirable Carbuncle, which seemed like -a flaming Torche, the value thereof not to bee estimated. By him -likewise hee laid a rich sword, with the girdle, hangers, and other -furniture, such as seldome can be seene the like. Then hee laid a -Jewell on the Pillow by him, so sumptuouslie embelished with -Pearles and precious Stones, as might have beseemed the greatest -Monarch in the World to weare. Last of all, on either side -of them, hee set two great Basons of pure Gold, full of double -ducates, many cords of Orient Pearles, Rings, Girdles, and other -costly Jewells (over-tedious to bee recounted) and kissing him -once more as hee lay in the bedde, commanded the Magitian to dispatch -and be gone.</p> - -<p>Instantly, the bedde and <i>Thorello</i> in it, in the presence of <i>Saladine</i>, -was invisibly carried thence, and while he sate conferring with his -Baschaes, the bed, Signior <i>Thorello</i>, and all the rich Jewells about -him, was transported and set in the Church of <i>San Pietro in Ciel -d'Ore</i> in <i>Pavia</i>, according to his own request, and soundly sleeping, -being placed directly before the high Altar. Afterward, when the -bells rung to Mattines, the Sexton entring the Church with a light -in his hand (where hee beheld a light of greater splendor) and suddenly -espied the sumptuous bedde there standing: not only was he -smitten into admiration, but hee ranne away also very fearefully. -When the Abbot and the Monkes mette him thus running into the -Cloyster, they became amazed, and demanded the reason why he -ranne in such haste, which the Sexton told them. How? quoth the -Abbot, thou art no childe, or a new-come hither, to be so easilie -affrighted in our holy Church, where Spirits can have no power -to walke, God and Saint <i>Peter</i> (wee hope) are stronger for us then -them so: wherefore turne backe with us, and let us see the cause of -thy feare.</p> - -<p>Having lighted many Torches, the Abbot and his Monkes entred -with the Sexton into the Church, where they beheld the -wonderfull riche bedde, and the Knight lying fast a-sleepe in it. -While they stood all in amazement, not daring to approach neere -the bedde, whereon lay such costly Jewells: it chanced that Signior -<i>Thorello</i> awaked, and breathed forth a vehement sigh. The -Monkes and the Abbot seeing him to stirre, ranne all away in feare, -crying aloud, God and S. <i>Peter</i> defend us.</p> - -<p>By this time <i>Thorello</i> had opened his eyes, and looking round about -him, perceived that hee was in the place of <i>Saladines</i> promise, -whereof hee was not a little joyfulll. Wherefore, sitting up in the -bedde, and particularly observing all the things about him: albeit -he knew sufficiently the magnificence of <i>Saladine</i>, yet now it appeared -far greater to him, and imagined more largely thereof, then hee -could doe before. But yet, without any other ceremony, seeing the -flight of the Monkes, hearing their cry, and perceiving the reason; -he called the Abbot by his name, desiring him not to be affraid, for -he was his Nephew <i>Thorello</i>, and no other.</p> - -<p>When the Abbot heard this, hee was ten times worse affrighted -then before, because (by publique fame) hee had beene so many -moneths dead and buried; but receiving (by true arguments) better -assurance of him, and hearing him still call him by his name: -blessing himselfe with the signe of the Crosse, hee went somewhat -neerer to the bed, when <i>Thorello</i> said. My loving Uncle, and religious -holy Father, whereof are you affraid? I am your loving Nephew, -newly returned from beyond the Seas. The Abbot, seeing his beard -to be grown long, and his habit after the Arabian fashion, did yet -collect some resemblance of his former countenance; and being -better perswaded of him, tooke him by the hand, saying:</p> - -<p>Sonne thou art happily returned, yet there is not any man in our -Citie, but doth verily beleeve thee to bee dead, and therefore -doe not much wonder at our feare. Moreover, I dare assure thee, -that thy Wife <i>Adalietta</i>, being conquered by the controuling command, -and threatnings of her kinred (but much against her owne -minde) is this very morning to be married to a new husband, and -the marriage feast is solemnly prepared, in honour of this second -nuptialls.</p> - -<p><i>Thorello</i> arising out of the bedde, gave gracious salutations to the -Abbot and his Monkes, intreating earnestly of them all, that no -word might be spoken of his returne, untill he had compleated an -important businesse. Afterward, having safely secured the bedde, -and all the rich Jewells, he fully acquainted the Abbot with all his -passed fortunes, whereof he was immeasurably joyfullly, & having -satisfied him, concerning the new elected husband, <i>Thorello</i> said unto -the Abbot. Uncle, before any rumour of my returne, I would -gladly see my wives behaviour at this new briding feast, & although -men of religion are seldome seene at such Joviall meetings: yet (for -my sake) doe you so order the matter, that I (as an Arabian stranger) -may be a guest under your protection; whereto the Abbot very -gladly condescended.</p> - -<p>In the morning, he sent to the Bridegroom, and advertised him, -that he (with a stranger newly arrived) intented to dine with him, -which the Gentleman accepted in thankefull manner. And when -dinner time came, <i>Thorello</i> in his strange disguise went with the -Abbot to the Bridegroomes house, where he was lookt on with admiration -of all the guests, but not knowne or suspected by any one; -because the Abbot reported him to be a <i>Sarracine</i>, and sent by the -Soldane (in Ambassage) to the King of France. <i>Thorello</i> was seated -at a by-table, but directly opposite to the new Bride, whom hee -much delighted to looke on, and easily collected by her sad countenance, -that shee was scarcely well pleased with this new nuptialls. -She likewise beheld him very often, not in regard of any knowledge -she took of him: for the bushiness of his beard, strangeness of habit, -(but most of all) firm beleefe of his death, was the maine prevention.</p> - -<p>At such time as <i>Thorello</i> thought it convenient, to approve how -farre he was falne out of her remembrance; he took the ring which -she gave him at his departure, and calling a young Page that waited -on none but the Bride, said to him in Italian: Faire youth, goe to -the Bride, and saluting her from me, tell her, it is a custome observed -in my Country, that when any Stranger (as I am heere) sitteth -before a new married Bride, as now shee is, in signe that hee is welcome -to her feast, she sendeth the same Cup (wherein she drinketh -her selfe) full of the best wine, and when the stranger hath drunke -so much as him pleaseth, the Bride then pledgeth him with all the -rest. The Page delivered the message to the Bride, who, being a -woman of honourable disposition, and reputing him to be a Noble -Gentleman, to testifie that his presence there was very acceptable to -her, shee commanded a faire Cuppe of gold (which stood directlie -before her) to bee neately washed, and when it was filled with -excellent Wine, caused it to bee carried to the stranger, and so it -was done.</p> - -<p><i>Thorello</i> having drunke a heartie draught to the Bride, conveyed -the Ring into the Cuppe, before any person could perceive it, -and having left but small store of Wine in it, covered the Cuppe, -and sent it againe to the Bride, who received it very graciously, -and to honour the Stranger in his Countries custome, dranke up -the rest of the Wine, and espying the Ring, shee tooke it forth undetected -by any: Knowing it to be the same Ring which shee gave -Signior <i>Thorello</i> at his parting from her; she fixed her eyes often on -it, & as often on him, whom she thought to be a stranger, the cheerfull -bloud mounting up into her cheeks, and returning againe with -remembrance to her heart, that (howsoever thus disguised) he only -was her husband.</p> - -<p>Like one of <i>Bacchus</i> Froes, up furiously she started, and throwing -downe the Table before her, cried out aloud: This is my Lord -and Husband, this truely is my Lord <i>Thorello</i>. So running to the -Table where he sate, without regard of all the riches thereon, down -she threw it likewise, and clasping her armes about his necke, hung -so mainly on him (weeping, sobbing, and kissing him) as she could -not be taken off by any of the company, nor shewed any moderation -in this excesse of passion, till <i>Thorello</i> spake, and entreated her -to be more patient, because this extremity was over-dangerous for -her. Thus was the solemnitie much troubled, but every one there -very glad and joyfulll for the recovery of such a famous and worthy -Knight, who intreated them all to vouchsafe him silence, and so related -all his fortunes to them, from the time of his departure, to the -instant houre. Concluding withall, that hee was no way offended -with the new Bride-groome, who upon the so constant report of -his death, deserved no blame in making election of his wife.</p> - -<p>The Bridegroome, albeit his countenance was somewhat cloudie, -to see his hope thus disappointed: yet granted freely, that <i>Adalietta</i> -was <i>Thorello's</i> wife in equitie, and hee could not justly lay any -claime to her. She also resigned the Crown and Rings which she -had so lately received of her new Spouse, and put that on her finger -which she found in the Cup, and that Crowne was set upon her -head, in honour sent her from great <i>Saladine</i>. In which triumphant -manner, she left the new Bridegrooms abiding, and repayred home -to <i>Thorello's</i> house, with such pompe and magnificence as never -had the like been seene in <i>Pavia</i> before, all the Citizens esteeming -it as a miracle, that they had so happily recovered Signior <i>Thorello</i> -againe.</p> - -<p>Some part of the Jewells he gave to him, who had beene at cost -with the marriage feasting, and some to his Uncle the Abbot, beside -a bountie bestowed on the Monkes. Then he sent a messenger -to <i>Saladine</i>, with Letters of his whole successe, and confessing himselfe -(for ever) his obliged servant: living many yeeres (after) with -his wife <i>Adalietta</i>, and using greater curtesies to strangers, then ever -before he had done.</p> - -<p>In this manner ended the troubles of Signior <i>Thorello</i>, and the afflictions -of his dearely affected Lady, with due recompence to their -honest and ready courtesies. Many strive (in outward shew) to doe -the like, who although they are sufficiently able, doe performe it so -basely, as it rather redoundeth to their shame, then honour. And -therefore if no merit ensue thereon, but onely such disgrace as justly -should follow; let them lay the blame upon themselves.</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h4><a name="The_Marquesse_of_Saluzzo_named_Gualtiero_being_constrained_by" id="The_Marquesse_of_Saluzzo_named_Gualtiero_being_constrained_by"><i>The Marquesse of</i> Saluzzo, <i>named</i> Gualtiero, <i>being constrained by -the importunate solliciting of his Lords, and other inferiour people, to -joyne himselfe in marriage; tooke a woman according to his owne liking, -called</i> Grizelda, <i>she being the daughter of a poore Countriman, -named</i> Janiculo, <i>by whom he had two children, which he pretended to -be secretly murdered. Afterward, they being grown to yeres of more -stature, and making shew of taking in marriage another wife, more -worthy of his high degree and Calling: made a seeming publique liking -of his owne daughter, expulsing his wife</i> Grizelda <i>poorely from -him. But finding her incomparable patience; more dearely (then before) -hee received her into favour againe, brought her home to his -owne Pallace, where (with her children) hee caused her and them to -be respectively honoured, in despight of all her adverse enemies.</i></a></h4> - -<h2>The Tenth Novell.</h2> - -<h4><i>Set downe as an example or warning to all wealthie men, how to have -care of marrying themselves. And likewise to poore and meane women, -to be patient in their fortunes, and obedient to their husbands.</i></h4> - - -<p>Questionlesse, the Kings Novell did not so much exceed the -rest in length, but it proved as pleasing to the whole assembly, -& past with their generall approbation, till <i>Dioneus</i> (in -a merry jesting humour) said. The plaine honest simple man, that -stood holding the Candle, to see the setting on of his Mules tayle; -deserved two penny-worth of more praise, then all our applauding -of Signior <i>Thorello</i>: And knowing himselfe to bee left for the last -speaker, thus he began.</p> - -<p>Milde & modest Ladies, for ought I can perceive to the contrary, -this day was dedicated to none but Kings, Soldanes, and great Potentates, -not in favour of any inferiour or meaner persons. And -therefore, because I would be loth to dis-ranke my selfe from the -rest, I purpose to speake of a Lord Marquesse, not any matter of -great magnificence, but rather in a more humble nature, and sorted -to an honest end: which yet I will not advise any to immitate, because -(perhaps) they cannot so well digest it, as they did whom my -Novell concerneth; thus then I begin.</p> - -<p>It is a great while since, when among those that were Lord Marquesses -of <i>Saluzzo</i>, the very greatest and worthiest man of them al, -was a young Noble Lord, named <i>Gualtiero</i>, who having neyther -wife nor childe, spent his time in nothing else but hawking & hunting: -nor had he any minde of marriage, or to enjoy the benefit of -children, wherein many did repute him the wiser. But this being -distastfull to his subjects, they very often earnestly solicited him, to -match himselfe with a wife, to the end, that hee might not decease -without an heire, nor they be left destitute of a succeeding Lord; -offering themselves to provide him of such a one, so well descended -by Father and Mother, as not only should confirm their hope, -but also yeeld him high contentment; whereto the Lord Marquess -thus answered.</p> - -<p>Worthie friends, you would constraine me to the thing, wherewith -I never had any intent to meddle, considering, how difficult -a case it is to meet with such a woman, who can agree with a man in -all his conditions, and how great the number is of them, who daily -happen on the contrarie: but most (and worst of all the rest) how -wretched and miserable prooves the life of man, who is bound to -live with a wife not fit for him. And in saying, you can learn to understand -the custome and qualities of children, by behaviour of the -fathers and mothers, and so to provide mee of a wife, it is a meere -argument of folly: for neither shall I comprehend, or you either, -the secret inclinations of parents; I meane of the Father, and much -lesse the complexion of the mother. But admitte it were within -compasse of power to know them; yet it is a frequent sight, and -observed every day; that daughters doe resemble neither father -nor mother, but that they are naturally governed by their owne -instinct.</p> - -<p>But because you are so desirous to have me fettered in the chains -of wedlocke; I am contented to grant what you request. And because -I would have no complaint made of any but my selfe, if matters -should not happen answerable to expectation; I will make mine -owne eyes my electors, and not see by any others sight. Giving -you this assurance before, that if she whom I shall make choice of, -be not of you honoured and respected as your Lady and Mistresse: -it will ensue to your detriment, how much you have displeased me, -to take a wife at your request, and against mine owne will.</p> - -<p>The Noble men answered, that they were well satisfied, provided -that he tooke a wife.</p> - -<p>Some indifferent space of time before, the beauty, manners, and -well-seeming vertues, of a poore Countrie-mans daughter, dwelling -in no farre distant village, had appeared very pleasing to the -Lord Marquesse, and gave him full perswasion, that with her hee -should lead a comfortable life. And therefore without any further -search or inquisition, he absolutely resolved to marry her, and having -conferred with her Father, agreed, that his daughter should be -his wife. Whereupon, the Marquesse made a generall -Convocation of all his Lords, Barons, and other of his especiall -friends, from all parts of his Dominion; and when they were -assembled together, hee then spake unto them in manner as followeth.</p> - -<p>Honourable friends, it appeared pleasing to you all; and yet (I -thinke) you are of the same minde, that I should dispose my selfe to -take a wife: and I thereto condescended, more to yeeld you contentment, -then for any particular desire in my selfe. Let mee now -remember you of your solemne made promise, with full consent to -honour and obey her (whosoever) as your Soveraigne Lady and Mistresse, -that I shall elect to make my wife: and now the time is come, -for my exacting the performance of that promise, and which I look -you must constantly keepe. I have made choyce of a young virgine, -answerable to mine owne heart and liking, dwelling not farre off -hence, whom I intend to make my wife, and (within few daies) to -have her brought home to my Pallace. Let your care and diligence -then extend so farre, as to see that the feast may be sumptuous, and -her entertainment to bee most honourable: to the end that I may -receive as much contentment in your promise performed, as you -shall perceive I doe in my choice.</p> - -<p>The Lords and all the rest, were wondrously joyfulll to heare him -so well inclined, expressing no lesse by their shouts and jocund suffrages: -protesting cordially, that she should be welcommed with -pompe and majestie, and honoured of them all, as their Liege Ladie -and Soveraigne. Afterward, they made preparation for a -princely and magnificent feast, as the Marquesse did the like, for a -marriage of extraordinary state and qualitie, inviting all his kinred, -friends, and acquaintance in all parts and Provinces, about him. -Hee made also readie most riche and costly garments, shaped by -the body of a comely young Gentlewoman, who he knew to be equall -in proportion and stature, to her of whom hee hade made his -election.</p> - -<p>When the appointed nuptiall day was come, the Lord Marques, -about nine of the clocke in the morning, mounted on horse-backe, -as all the rest did, who came to attend him honourably, and -having all things in due readinesse with them, he said: Lords, it is -time for us to goe fetch the Bride. So on hee rode with his traine, -to the same poore Village whereas shee dwelt, and when hee was -come to her Fathers house, hee saw the maiden returning very hastily -from a Well, where shee had beene to fetch a paile of Water, -which shee set downe, and stood (accompanied with other maidens) -to see the passage by of the Lord Marquesse and his traine. -<i>Gualtiero</i> called her by her name, which was <i>Grizelda</i>, and asked -her, where her Father was: who bashfully answered him, and with -an humble courtesie, saying. My gracious Lord, hee is in the -house.</p> - -<p>Then the Marquesse dismounted from his horse, commanding -every one to attend him, then all alone hee entred into the poore -Cottage, where he found the maides father, being named <i>Janiculo</i>, -and said unto him. God speed good Father, I am come to espouse -thy daughter <i>Grizelda</i>: but first I have a few demands to make, -which I will utter to her in thy presence. Then hee turned to the -maide, and saide.</p> - -<p>Faire <i>Grizelda</i>, if I make you my wife, will you doe your best -endeavour to please me, in all things which I shall doe or say? will -you also be gentle, humble, and patient? with divers other the like -questions: whereto she still answered, that she would, so neere as -heaven (with grace) should enable her.</p> - -<p>Presently he tooke her by the hand, so led her forth of the poore -homely house, and in the presence of all his company, with his -owne hands, he took off her meane wearing garments, smocke and -all, and cloathed her with those Robes of State which he had purposely -brought thither for her, and plaiting her haire over her -shoulders, hee placed a Crowne of gold on her head, whereat every -one standing as amazed, and wondring not a little, hee said: -<i>Grizelda</i>, wilt thou have me to thy husband. Modestly blushing, -and kneeling on the ground, she answered. Yes my gracious Lord, -if you will accept so poore a maiden to be your wife. Yes <i>Grizelda</i>, -quoth hee, with this holy kisse, I confirme thee for my wife; and -so espoused her before them all. Then mounting her on a milke-white -Palfray, brought thither for her, shee was thus honourably -conducted to her Pallace.</p> - -<p>Now concerning the marriage feast and triumphes, they were -performed with no lesse pompe, then if she had beene daughter to -the King of France. And the young Bride apparantly declared, -that (with her garments) her minde and behaviour were quite changed. -For indeed shee was (as it were shame to speake otherwise) a -rare creature, both of person and perfections, and not onely was -shee absolute for beautie, but so sweetely amiable, gracious, and -goodlie; as if she were not the daughter of poore <i>Janiculo</i>, and a -Countrie Shepheardesse, but rather of some Noble Lord, whereat -every one wondred that formerly had knowne her. Beside all -this, shee was so obedient to her husband, so fervent in all dutifull -offices, and patient, without the very least provoking: as hee held -himselfe much more then contented, and the onely happy man of -the world.</p> - -<p>In like manner, towards the subjects of her Lord and Husband, -she shewed her selfe alwayes so benigne and gracious; as there was -not any one, but the more they lookt on her, the better they loved -her, honouring her voluntarily, and praying to the heavens, for her -health, dignity and well-fares long continuance. Speaking now -(quite contrary to their former opinion of the Marquesse) honourably -and worthily, that he had shewne him selfe a singular wise -man, in the election of his Wife, which few else (but he) in the -world would have done: because their judgement might fall farre -short, of discerning those great and precious vertues, veiled under -a homely habite, and obscured in a poore Countrey cottage. To -be briefe, in very short time, not onely the Marquisate it selfe, but -all neighbouring Provinces round about, had no other common -talke, but of her rare course of life, devotion, charity, and all good -actions else; quite quailing all sinister Instructions of her Husband, -before he received her in marriage.</p> - -<p>About foure or five yeeres after the birth of her daughter, shee -conceived with child againe, and (at the limitted houre of deliverance) -had a goodly Sonne, to the no little liking of the Marquesse. -Afterward, a strange humour entred into his braine, namely, -that by a long continued experience, and courses of intollerable -quality; he would needes make proofe of his faire Wives patience. -First he began to provoke her by injurious speeches, shewing fierce -and frowning lookes to her, intimating; that his people grew displeased -with him, in regard of his Wives base birth and education, -and so much the rather, because she was likely to bring children, -who (by her blood) were no better then beggars, and murmured at -the daughter already borne. Which words when <i>Grizelda</i> heard, -without any alteration of countenance, for the least distemperature -in any appearing action she said.</p> - -<p>My honourable and gracious Lord, dispose of me, as you thinke -best, for your owne dignity and contentment, for I shall therewith -be well pleased: as she that knowes her selfe, farre inferiour to the -meanest of your people, much lesse worthy of the honour, whereto -you liked to advance me.</p> - -<p>This answere was very welcome to the Marquesse, as apparantly -perceiving hereby, that the dignity whereto hee had exalted her, -or any particular favours beside, could not infect her with any -pride, coynesse, or disdaine. Not long after, having told her in plaine -and open speeches, that his subjects could not endure her so late -borne daughter: he called a trusty servant of his, and having instructed -him what he should doe, sent him to <i>Grizelda</i>, and he being alone -with her, looking very sadde, and much perplexed in mind, he -saide. Madame, except I intend to loose mine owne life, -I must accomplish what my Lord hath strictly enjoyned me, which -is, to take this your young daughter, and then I must: So breaking -off abruptly, the Lady hearing his words, and noting his frowning -lookes, remembring also what the Marquesse himselfe had formerly -said; she presently imagined, that he had commanded his servant -to kill the childe. Suddenly therefore, she tooke it out of the -Cradle, and having sweetly kissed, and bestowne her blessing on it -(albeit her heart throbbed, with the inward affection of a Mother) -without any alteration of countenance, she tenderly laid it in the -servants armes, and said. Here friend, take it, and doe with it as thy -Lord and mine hath commanded thee: but leave it in no rude -place, where birds or savage beasts may devoure it, except it be his -will to have it so.</p> - -<p>The servant departing from her with the child, and reporting -to the Marquesse what his Lady had said; he wondered at her incomparable -constancy. Then he sent it by the same servant to -<i>Bologna</i>, to an honourable Lady his kinsewoman, requesting her -(without revealing whose child it was) to see it both nobly and carefully -educated.</p> - -<p>At time convenient afterward, being with child againe, and delivered -of a Princely Sonne (then which nothing could be more -joyfulll to the Marquesse) yet all this was not sufficient for him; but -with farre ruder language then before, and lookes expressing harsh -intentions, he said unto her. <i>Grizelda</i>, though thou pleasest me -wonderfully, by the birth of this Princely Boy, yet my subjects are -not therewith contented, but blunder abroad maliciously; that the -grand-child of <i>Janiculo</i>, a poore countrey pezant, when I am dead -and gone, must be their Soveraigne Lord and Master. Which -makes me stand in feare of their expulsion, and to prevent that, I -must be rid of this childe, as well as the other, and then send thee -away from hence, that I may take another wife, more pleasing to -them.</p> - -<p><i>Grizelda</i>, with a patient sufferent soule, hearing what he had said, -returned no other answere but this. Most Gracious and Honourable -Lord, satisfie and please your owne Royall minde, and never -use any respect of me: for nothing is precious or pleasing to mee, -but what may agree with your good liking. Within a while after, -the Noble Marquesse in the like manner as he did before for the -Daughter, so he sent the same servant for the Sonne, and seeming -as if he had sent it to have been slaine, conveighed it to be nursed at -<i>Bologna</i>, in company of his sweete Sister. Whereat the Lady -shewed no other discontentment in any kinde, then formerly -she had done for her Daughter, to the no meane marvell of the -Marquesse, who protested in his soule, that the like woman was -not in all the world beside. And were it not for his heedfull observation, -how loving and carefull she was of her children, prizing -them as dearely as her owne life: rash opinion might have perswaded -him, that she had no more in her, then a carnall affection, -not caring how many she had, so shee might thus easily be rid of -them; but he knew her to be a truely vertuous mother, and wisely -liable to endure his severest impositions.</p> - -<p>His Subjects beleeving, that he had caused the children to bee -slaine, blamed him greatly, thought him to be a most cruell man, -and did highly compassionate the Ladies case: who when shee -came in company of other Gentlewomen, which mourned for -their deceased children, would answere nothing else: but that -they could not be more pleasing to her, then they were to the father -that begot them.</p> - -<p>Within certaine yeares after the birth of these children, the -Marquesse purposed with himselfe, to make his last and finall -proofe of faire <i>Grizeldaes</i> patience, and said to some neere about -him: that he could no longer endure, to keepe <i>Grizelda</i> as his wife, -confessing, he had done foolishly, and according to a young giddie -braine, when he was so rash in the marriage of her. Wherefore he -would send to the Pope, and purchase a dispensation from him, -to repudiate <i>Grizelda</i>, and take another Wife. Wherein although -they greatly reproved him; yet he told them plainely, that it must -needes be so.</p> - -<p>The Lady hearing these newes, and thinking she must returne againe -to her poore fathers house, and (perhaps) to her old occupation -of keeping sheepe, as in her younger dayes she had done, understanding -withall, that another woman must enjoy him, whom shee -dearely loved and honoured; you may well thinke (worthy Ladies) -that her patience was now put to the maine proofe indeede. Neverthelesse, -as with an invincible true vertuous courage, she had outstood -all the other injuries of Fortune; so did she constantly settle -her soule, to beare this with an undaunted countenance and behaviour.</p> - -<p>At such time as was prefixed for the purpose, counterfeit Letters -came to the Marquesse (as sent from <i>Rome</i>) which he caused to be -publikely read in the hearing of his subjects: that the Pope had dispensed -with him, to leave <i>Griselda</i>, and marry with another Wife, -wherefore, sending for her immediately, in presence of them all, thus -he spake to her. Woman, by concession sent me from the Pope, -he hath dispensed with me, to make choyce of another Wife, and -to free my selfe from thee. And because my predecessors have -beene Noblemen, and great Lords in this Country, thou being the -daughter of a poore Countrey Clowne, and their blood and mine -notoriously imbased, by my marriage with thee; I intend to have -thee no longer my Wife, but will returne thee home to thy Fathers -house, with all the rich Dowry thou broughtest me; and then I wil -take another Wife, with whom I am already contracted, better -beseeming my birth, and farre more contenting and pleasing to my -people.</p> - -<p>The Lady hearing these words (not without much paine and -difficulty) restrayned her teares, quite contrary to the naturall inclination -of women, and thus answered. Great Marquesse, I never -was so empty of discretion, but did alwayes acknowledge, that my -base and humble condition, could not in any manner sute with -your high blood and Nobility, and my being with you, I ever acknowledged, -to proceed from heaven and you, not any merit of -mine, but onely as a favour lent me, which you being now pleased -to recall backe againe, I ought to be pleased (and so am) that it bee -restored. Here is the Ring, wherewith you Espoused me; here (in -all humility) I deliver it to you. You command me, to carry home -the marriage Dowry which I brought with me: there is no need -of a Treasurer to repay it me, neither any new purse to carry it in, -much lesse any Sumpter to be laden with it. For (Noble Lord) it -was never out of my memory, that you tooke me starke naked; -and if it shall seeme sightly to you, that this body which hath borne -two children, and begotten by you, must againe be seene naked; -willingly must I depart hence naked. But I humbly beg of your -Excellency, in recompence of my Virginity, which I brought you -blamelesse, so much as in thought: that I may have but one of my -wedding Smocks, onely to conceale the shame of nakednesse, and -then I depart rich enough.</p> - -<p>The Marquesse whose heart wept bloody teares, as his eyes -would likewise gladly have yeelded their naturall tribute; covered -all with a dissembled angry countenance, and starting up, said. Goe, -give her a Smocke onely, and so send her gadding. All there present -about him, entreated him to let her have a petticote, because it -might not be said, that she who had been his Wife thirteene yeares -and more, was sent away so poorely in her Smocke: but all their -perswasions prevailed not with him. Naked in her Smocke, without -hose or shooes, bareheaded, and not so much as a Cloth about -her necke, to the great griefe and mourning of all that saw her, she -went home to her old fathers house.</p> - -<p>And he (good man) never beleeving, that the Marquesse would -long keepe his daughter as his Wife, but rather expected daily, -what now had happened: safely laid up the garments, whereof the -Marquesse despoyled her, the same morning when he espoused her. -Wherefore he delivered them to her, and she fell to her fathers -houshold businesse, according as formerly she had done; sustayning -with a great and unconquerable spirit, all the cruell assaults of -her enemy Fortune.</p> - -<p>About such time after, as suted with his owne disposition, the -Marquesse made publiquely knowne to his subjects, that he meant -to joyne in marriage again, with the daughter to one of the Counts -of <i>Panago</i>, and causing preparation to be made for a sumptuous -wedding; he sent for <i>Grizelda</i>, and she being come, thus he spake -to her. The Wife that I have made the new election of, is to arrive -here within very few dayes, and at her first comming, I would -have her to be most honourably entertained. Thou knowest I have -no women in my house, that can decke up the Chambers, and set -all requisite things in due order, befitting for so solemne a Feast: -and therefore I sent for thee, who knowing (better then any other) -all the partes, provision and goods in the house, set every thing in -such order, as thou shalt thinke necessary.</p> - -<p>Invite such Ladies and Gentlewomen as thou wilt, and give -them welcome, even as if thou wert the Lady of the house: and -when the marriage is ended, returne then home to thy father againe.</p> - -<p>Although these words pierced like wonding daggers, the heart -of poore (but Noble patient) <i>Grizelda</i>, as being unable to forget -the unequal'd love she bare to the Marquesse, though the dignitie -of her former fortune, more easily slipt out of her remembrance; -yet neverthelesse, thus she answered.</p> - -<p>My Gracious Lord, I am glad I can doe you any service; wherein -you shall find mee both willing and ready. In the same poore -garments, as she came from her fathers house, (although shee was -turned out in her Smocke) she began to sweep and make cleane the -Chambers, rubbe the stooles and benches in the Hall, and ordered -every in the Kitchin, as if she were the worst maide in all the house, -never ceasing or giving over, till all things were in due and decent -order, as best beseemed in such a case. After all which was done, the -Marquesse, having invited all the Ladies of the Countrey, to be -present at so great a Feast: when the marriage day came, <i>Grizelda</i>, -in her gowne of Countrey gray, gave them welcome, in honourable -manner, and graced them all with very cheerefull countenance.</p> - -<p><i>Gualtiero</i> the Marquesse, who had caused his two children to be -nobly nourished at <i>Bologna</i>, with a neere kinswoman of his, who -had married with one of the Counts of <i>Panago</i>, his daughter being -now aged twelve yeares old, and some-what more, as also the Son -about sixe or seven. He sent a Gentleman expresly to his kindred, -to have them come and visite him at <i>Saluzza</i>, bringing his daughter -and Sonne with them, attended in very honourable manner, and -publishing every where as they came along, that the young Virgin -(knowne to none but himselfe and them) should be the Wife to -the Marquesse, and that onely was the cause of her comming. The -Gentleman was not slacke, in the execution of the trust reposed in -him: but having made convenient preparation, with the kindred, -Sonne, daughter, and a worthy company attending on them, arrived -at <i>Saluzza</i> about dinner time, where wanted no resort, from -all neighbouring parts round about, to see the comming of the -Lord Marquesses new Spouse.</p> - -<p>By the Lords and Ladies she was joyfullly entertained, and comming -into the great Hall, where the Tables were readily covered: -<i>Grizelda</i>, in her homely Country habite, humbled her selfe before -her, saying. Gracious welcome, to the new elected Spouse of the -Lord Marquesse.</p> - -<p>All the Ladies there present, who had very earnestly importuned -<i>Gualtiero</i> (but in vaine) that <i>Grizelda</i>, might better be shut up -in some Chamber, or else to lend her the wearing of any other garments, -which formerly had been her owne, because she should not -be so poorely seene among strangers: being seated at the Tables, -she waited on them very serviceably. The young Virgin was observed -by every one, who spared not to say; that the Marquesse had -made an excellent change: but above them all, <i>Grizelda</i> did most -commend her, and so did her brother likewise, as young as he was, -yet not knowing her to be his Sister.</p> - -<p>Now was the Marquesse sufficiently satisfied in his soule, that -he had seene so much as he desired, concerning the patience of his -Wife, who in so many hart-grieving trials, was never noated so -much as to alter her countenance. And being absolutely perswaded, -that this proceeded not from any want of understanding in -her, because he knew her to be singularly wise: he thought it high -time now, to free her from these afflicting oppressions, and give her -such assurance as she ought to have. Wherefore, commanding her -into his presence, openly before all his assembled friends, smiling on -her, he said. What thinkst thou <i>Grizelda</i> of our new chosen Spouse? -My Lord (quoth she) I like her exceeding well, and if she be so wise, -as she is faire (which verely I thinke she is) I make no doubt but -you shall live with her, as the onely happy man of the world. But I -humbly entreat your honour (if I have any power in me to prevaile -by) that you would not give her such cutting and unkind language, -as you did to your other wife: for I cannot thinke her armed with -such patience, as should (indeed) support them: as wel in regard she -is much younger, as also her more delicate breeding and education, -whereas she who you had before, was brought up in continuall toile -and travaile.</p> - -<p>When the Marquesse perceyved, that <i>Grizelda</i> beleeved verily, -this young daughter of hers should be his wife, and answered him in -so honest and modest manner: he commanded her to sit downe by -him, and saide. <i>Grizelda</i>, it is now more then fitte time, that thou -shouldst taste the fruite of thy long admired patience, and that they -who have thought me cruell, harsh and uncivill natured, should at -length observe, that I have done nothing basely, or unadvisedly. -For this was a worke premeditated before, for enstructing thee, -what it is to be a married wife, and to let them know (whosoever -they be) how to take and keepe a wife. Which hath begotten (to -me) perpetuall joy and happinesse, so long as I have a day to live -with thee: a matter whereof I stoode before greatly in feare, and -which (in marriage I thought) would never happen to me.</p> - -<p>It is not unknown to thee, in how many kinds (for my first proofe) -I gave thee harsh and unpleasing speeches, which drawing no discontentment -from thee, either in lookes, words, or behaviour, but -rather such comfort as my soule desired, and so in my other succeedings -afterward: in one minute now, I purpose to give thee that -consolation, which I bereft thee of in many tempestuous stormes, -and make a sweet restauration, for all thy former sower sufferinges. -My faire and dearly affected <i>Grizelda</i>, shee whom thou supposest -for my new elected Spouse, with a glad and cheerfull hart, imbrace -for thine owne daughter, and this also her Brother, beeing both of -them thy children and mine, in common opinion of the vulgar multitude, -imagined to be (by my command) long since slaine. I am thy -honourable Lord and Husband, who doth, and will love thee farre -above all women else in the world; giving thee justly this deserved -praise and commendation, That no man living hath the like Wife, -as I have.</p> - -<p>So, sweetly kissing her infinitely, and hugging her joyfullly in his -armes (the teares now streaming like new-let-loose Rivers, downe -her faire face, which no disaster before could force from her) hee -brought her, and seated her by her daughter, who was not a little amazed -at so rare an alteration. Shee having (in zeale of affection) -kissed and embraced them both, all else there present being clearely -resolved from the former doubt which too long deluded them; the -Ladies arose jocondly from the tables, and attending on <i>Grizelda</i> -to her Chamber, in signe of a more successefull augury to follow: -tooke off her poor contemptible rags, and put on such costly robes, -which (as Lady Marchionesse) she used to weare before.</p> - -<p>Afterward, they waited on her into the Hall againe, being their -true Soveraigne Lady and Mistresse, as she was no lesse in her poorest -Garments; where all rejoycing for the new restored Mother, & -happy recovery of so noble a son and daughter, the Festivall continued -many months after. Now every one thought the Marquesse -to be a noble and wise Prince, though somewhat sharpe and unsufferable, -in the severe experiences made of his wife: but (above al) they -reputed <i>Grizelda</i>, to be a most wise, patient, & vertuous Lady. The -Count of <i>Panago</i>, within few daies after returned backe to <i>Bologna</i>; -and the Lord Marques, fetching home old <i>Janiculo</i> from his country -drudgery, to live with him (as his Father in law) in his Princely -Palace, gave him honourable maintenance, wherein hee long continued, -and ended his daies. Afterward, he matched his daughter in a -Noble marriage: he and <i>Grizelda</i> living long time together, in the -highest honour that possibly could be.</p> - -<p>What can now be saide to the contrary, but that poore Country -Cottages, may yeeld as divine & excellent spirits, as the most stately -and Royall mansions, which breed and bring uppe some, more -worthy to be Hog-rubbers, then hold any soveraignty over men? -Where is any other (beside <i>Grizelda</i>) who not only without a wet -eye, but imboldned by a valiant and invincible courage: that can -suffer the sharpe rigours, and (never the like heard of proofes) made -by the Marquesse? Perhaps he might have met with another, who -would have quitted him in a contrary kinde, and for thrusting her -forth of doores in her smocke, could have found better succor somewhere -else, rather then walke so nakedly in the cold streets.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p><i>Dioneus</i> having thus ended his Novel, and the Ladies delivering -their severall judgements, according to their owne -fancies, some holding one conceite, others leaning to the -contrary; one blaming this thing, and another commending that, -the King lifting his eyes to heaven, and seeing the Sun began to fal -low, by rising of the Evening Starre; without arising from his seat, -spake as followeth. Discreet Ladies, I am perswaded you know sufficiently, -that the sense and understanding of us mortals, consisteth -not onely (as I think) by preserving in memory things past, or knowledge -of them present; but such as both by the one and other, know -how to foresee future occasions, are worthily thought wise, and of -no common capacity.</p> - -<p>It will be (to morrow) fifteene dayes, since we departed from the -City of <i>Florence</i>, to come hither for our pastime and comfort, the -conservation of our lives, and support of our health, by avoyding -those melanchollies, griefes, and anguishes, which we beheld daylie -in our City, since the pestilentiall visitation beganne there, wherein -(by my judgement) we have done well and honestly. Albeit some -light Novels, perhaps attractive to a little wantonnes, as some say, -and our Joviall feasting with good cheare, singing and dancing, may -seeme matters inciting to incivility, especially in weake and shallow -understandings. But I have neither seene, heard, or knowne, any -acte, word, or whatsoever else, either on your part or ours, justly -deserving to be blamed: but all has bin honest, as in a sweete and -hermonious concord, such as might well beseeme the communitie -of Brethren and Sisters; which assuredly, as well in regard of you, -as us, hath much contented me.</p> - -<p>And therefore, least by over-long consuetude, something should -take life, which might be converted to a bad construction, & by our -country demourance for so many dayes, some captious conceit may -wrest out an ill imagination; I am of the minde (if yours be the like) -seeing each of us hath had the honour, which now remaineth still on -me: that it is very fitting for us, to returne thither from whence we -came. And so much the rather, because this sociable meeting of -ours, which already hath wonne the knowledge of many dwellers -here about us, should not grow to such an increase, as might make -our purposed pastime offensive to us. In which respect (if you allow -of my advise) I wil keepe the Crowne till our departing hence; the -which I intend shal be to morrow: but if you determine otherwise, -I am the man ready to make my resignation.</p> - -<p>Many imaginations passed amongst the Ladies, and likewise the -men, but yet in the end, they reputed the Kings counsell to bee the -best and wisest, concluding to do as he thought convenient. Whereupon, -hee called the Master of the housholde, and conferred with -him, of the businesse belonging to the next morning, and then gave -the company leave to rise. The Ladies and the rest, when they were -risen, fel some to one kinde of recreation, and others as their fancies -served them, even as (before) they had done. And when Supper -time came, they dispatcht it in very loving manner. Then they began -to play on instruments, sing and dance, and Madame <i>Lauretta</i> -leading the dance: the King commaunded Madame <i>Fiammetta</i> to -sing a song, which pleasantly she began in this manner.</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>THE SONG.</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Chorus sung by all the rest of the Company.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">If Love were free from Jealousie,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No Lady living,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Had lesse heart-greeving,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or liv'd so happily as I.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">If gallant youth<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In a faire friend, a woman could content,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If vertues prize, valour and hardiment,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Wit, carriage, purest eloquence,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Could free a woman from impatience:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then I am she can vaunt (if I were wise)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All these in one faire flower,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are in my power,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And yet I boast no more but trueth.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If Love were free from jealousie, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">But I behold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That other Women are as wise as I<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which killes me quite,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fearing false sirquedrie.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For when my fire begins to flame<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Others desires misguide my aim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And so bereaves me of secure delight.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Onely through fond mistrust, he is unjust:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thus are my comforts hourely hot and cold.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If Love were free, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">If in my friend,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I found like faith, as manly minde I know;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Mistrust were slaine.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But my fresh griefes still grow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By sight of such as do allure,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So I can thinke none true, none sure,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But all would rob me of my golden gaine.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Loe thus I dye, in Jealousie,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For losse of him, on whom I most depend.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If Love were free, &c.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">Let me advise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such Ladies as in Love are bravely bold,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Not to wrong me, I scorne to be controld.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If any one I chance to finde.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By winkes, words, smiles, in crafty kinde,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Seeking for that, which onely mine should be:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then I protest, to do my best,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And make them know, that they are scarsly wise.<br /></span> -</i></div><div class="stanza"><i> -<span class="i0">If Love were free from jealousie,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I know no Lady living,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Could have lesse heart-greeving,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or live so happily as I.<br /></span> -</i></div></div> - -<p>So soone as Madam <i>Fiammetta</i> had ended her Song; <i>Dioneus</i>, -who sate by her, smiling said. Truly Madam, you may do us a great -courtesie, to express your selfe more plainly to us all, least (thorow -ignorance) the possession may be imposed on your selfe, and so you -remaine the more offended. After the Song was past, divers other -were sung beside, and it now drawing wel-neere midnight, by the -Kings command, they all went to bed. And when new day appeared, -and all the world awaked out of sleepe, the Master of the Houshold -having sent away the carriages; they returned (under the conduct -of their discreet King) to <i>Florence</i>, where the three Gentlemen -left the seven Ladies at the Church of <i>Santa Maria Novella</i>, from -whence they went with them at the first. And having parted with -kinde salutations; the Gentlemen went whether themselves best -pleased, and the Ladies repaired home to their houses.</p> - - -<h4><i>The End of the Tenth and -Last Day.</i></h4> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Decameron (Day 6 to Day 10), by -Giovanni Boccaccio - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DECAMERON (DAY 6 TO DAY 10) *** - -***** This file should be named 52618-h.htm or 52618-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/6/1/52618/ - -Produced by Clare Graham and Marc D'Hooghe at -http://www.freeliterature.org (Images generously made -available by the Internet Archive.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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