Tales From the Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio

by Giovanni Boccaccio

  ‘Caterina, I implore you not to let me die of love for you.’

  ‘Heaven grant,’ she promptly replied, ‘that you do not allow me to die first for love of you.’

  Ricciardo was overjoyed by the girl’s answer, and, feeling greatly encouraged, he said to her:

  ‘Demand of me anything you please, and I shall do it. But you alone can devise the means of saving us both.’

  Whereupon the girl said:

  ‘Ricciardo, as you see, I am watched very closely, and for this reason I cannot think how you are to come to me. But if you are able to suggest anything I might do without bringing shame upon myself, tell me what it is, and I shall do it.’

  Ricciardo turned over various schemes in his mind, then suddenly he said:

  ‘My sweet Caterina, the only way I can suggest is for you to come to the balcony overlooking your father’s garden, or better still, to sleep there. Although it is very high, if I knew that you were spending the night on the balcony, I would try without fail to climb up and reach you.’

  ‘If you are daring enough to climb to the balcony,’ Caterina replied, ‘I am quite sure that I can arrange to sleep there.’

  Ricciardo assured her that he was, whereupon they snatched a single kiss and went their separate ways.

  It was already near the end of May, and on the morning after her conversation with Ricciardo, the girl began complaining to her mother that she had been unable to sleep on the previous night because of the heat.

  ‘What are you talking about, child?’ said her mother. ‘It wasn’t in the least hot.’

  To which Caterina said:

  ‘Mother, if you were to add “in my opinion”, then perhaps you would be right. But you must remember that young girls feel the heat much more than older women.’

  ‘That is so, my child,’ said her mother, ‘but what do you expect me to do about it? I can’t make it hot or cold for you, just like that. You have to take the weather as it comes, according to the season. Perhaps tonight it will be cooler, and you will sleep better.’

  ‘God grant that you are right,’ said Caterina, ‘but it is not usual for the nights to grow any cooler as the summer approaches.’

  ‘Then what do you want us to do about it?’ inquired the lady.

  ‘If you and father were to consent,’ replied Caterina, ‘I should like to have a little bed made up for me on the balcony outside his room, overlooking the garden. I should have the nightingale to sing me off to sleep, it would be much cooler there, and I should be altogether better off than I am in your room.’

  Whereupon her mother said:

  ‘Cheer up, my child; I shall speak to your father about it, and we shall do whatever he decides.’

  The lady reported their conversation to Messer Lizio, who, perhaps because of his age, was inclined to be short-tempered.

  ‘What’s all this about being lulled to sleep by the nightingale?’ he exclaimed. ‘She’ll be sleeping to the song of the cicadas if I hear any more of her nonsense.’

  Having heard what he had said, on the following night, more to spite her father than because she was feeling hot, Caterina not only stayed awake herself but, by complaining incessantly of the heat, also prevented her mother from sleeping.

  So next morning, her mother went straight to Messer Lizio, and said:

  ‘Sir, you cannot be very fond of this daughter of yours. What difference does it make to you whether she sleeps on the balcony or not? She didn’t get a moment’s rest all night because of the heat. Besides, what do you find so surprising about a young girl taking pleasure in the song of the nightingale? Young people are naturally drawn towards those things that reflect their own natures.’

  ‘Oh, very well,’ said Messer Lizio. ‘Take whichever bed you please, and set it up for her on the balcony with some curtains round it. Then let her sleep there and hear the nightingale singing to her heart’s content.’

  On hearing that her father had given his permission, the girl promptly had a bed made up for herself on the balcony; and since it was her intention to sleep there that same night, she waited for Ricciardo to come to the house, and gave him a signal, already agreed between them, by which he understood what was expected of him.

  As soon as he had heard his daughter getting into bed, Messer Lizio locked the door leading from his own room to the balcony, and then he too retired for the night.

  When there was no longer any sound to be heard, Ricciardo climbed over a wall with the aid of a ladder, then climbed up the side of the house by clinging with great difficulty to a series of stones projecting from the wall. At every moment of the ascent, he was in serious danger of falling, but in the end he reached the balcony unscathed, where he was silently received by the girl with very great rejoicing. After exchanging many kisses, they lay down together and for virtually the entire night they had delight and joy of one another, causing the nightingale to sing at frequent intervals.

  Their pleasure was long, the night was brief, and though they were unaware of the fact, it was almost dawn when they eventually fell asleep without a stitch to cover them, exhausted as much by their merry sport as by the nocturnal heat. Caterina had tucked her right arm beneath Ricciardo’s neck, whilst with her left hand she was holding that part of his person which in mixed company you ladies are too embarrassed to mention.

  Dawn came, but failed to wake them, and they were still asleep in the same posture when Messer Lizio got up out of bed. Remembering that his daughter was sleeping on the balcony, he quietly opened the door, saying:

  ‘I’ll just go and see whether Caterina has slept any better with the help of the nightingale.’

  Stepping out on to the terrace, he gently raised the curtain surrounding the bed and saw Ricciardo and Caterina, naked and uncovered, lying there asleep in one another’s arms, in the posture just described.

  Having clearly recognized Ricciardo, he left them there and made his way to his wife’s room, where he called to her and said:

  ‘Be quick, woman, get up and come and see, for your daughter was so fascinated by the nightingale that she has succeeded in way-laying it, and is holding it in her hand.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ said the lady.

  ‘You’ll see, if you come quickly,’ said Messer Lizio.

  The lady got dressed in a hurry, and quietly followed in Messer Lizio’s footsteps until both of them were beside the bed. The curtain was then raised, and Madonna Giacomina saw for herself exactly how her daughter had taken and seized hold of the nightingale, whose song she had so much yearned to hear.

  The lady, who considered that she had been seriously deceived in Ricciardo, was on the point of shouting and screaming abuse at him, but Messer Lizio restrained her, saying:

  ‘Woman, if you value my love, hold your tongue! Now that she has taken him, she shall keep him. Ricciardo is a rich young man, and comes of noble stock. We could do a lot worse than have him as our son-in-law. If he wishes to leave this house unscathed, he will first have to marry our daughter, so that he will have put his nightingale into his own cage and into no other.’

  The lady was reassured to see that her husband was not unduly perturbed by what had happened, and on reflecting that her daughter had enjoyed a good night, was well-rested, and had caught the nightingale, she held her peace.

  Nor did they have long to wait before Ricciardo woke up, and on seeing that it was broad daylight, he almost died of fright and called to Caterina, saying:

  ‘Alas, my treasure, the day has come and caught me unawares! What is to happen to us?’

  At these words, Messer Lizio stepped forward, raised the curtain, and replied:

  ‘What you deserve.’

  On seeing Messer Lizio, Ricciardo nearly leapt out of his skin and sat bolt upright in bed, saying:

  ‘My lord, in God’s name have mercy on me. I know that I deserve to die, for I have been wicked and disloyal, and hence you must deal with me as you choose. But I beseech you to spare my life, if that is pos
sible. I implore you not to kill me.’

  ‘Ricciardo,’ said Messer Lizio, ‘this deed was quite unworthy of the love I bore you and the firm trust I placed in you. But what is done cannot be undone, and since it was your youth that carried you into so grievous an error, in order that you may preserve not only your life but also my honour, you must, before you do anything else, take Caterina as your lawful wedded wife. And thus, not only will she have been yours for this night, but she will remain yours for as long as she lives. By this means alone will you secure your freedom and my forgiveness; otherwise you can prepare to meet your Maker.’

  Whilst this conversation was taking place, Caterina let go of the nightingale, and having covered herself up, she burst into tears and implored her father to forgive Ricciardo, at the same time beseeching Ricciardo to do as Messer Lizio wished, so that they might long continue to enjoy such nights as this together in perfect safety.

  All this pleading was quite superfluous, however, for what with the shame of his transgression and his urge to atone on the one hand, and his desire to escape with his life on the other (to say nothing of his yearning to possess the object of his ardent love), Ricciardo readily consented, without a moment’s hesitation, to do what Messer Lizio was asking.

  Messer Lizio therefore borrowed one of Madonna Giacomina’s rings, and Ricciardo married Caterina there and then without moving from the spot, her parents bearing witness to the event.

  This done, Messer Lizio and his wife withdrew, saying:

  ‘Now go back to sleep, for you doubtless stand in greater need of resting than of getting up.’

  As soon as Caterina’s parents had departed, the two young people fell once more into each other’s arms, and since they had only passed half-a-dozen milestones in the course of the night, they added another two to the total before getting up. And for the first day they left it at that.

  After they had risen, Ricciardo discussed the matter in greater detail with Messer Lizio, and a few days later he and Caterina took appropriate steps to renew their marriage vows in the presence of their friends and kinsfolk. Then, amid great rejoicing, he brought her to his house, where the nuptials were celebrated with dignity and splendour. And for many years thereafter he lived with her in peace and happiness, caging nightingales by the score, day and night, to his heart’s content.

  FIFTH STORY

  Before he dies, Guidotto da Cremona consigns to Giacomino da Pavia a young girl, who later on, in Faenza, is wooed by Giannole di Severino and Minghino di Mingole; these two come to blows, but when the girl is identified as Giannole’s sister, she is given in marriage to Minghino.

  In listening to the tale of the nightingale, all the ladies laughed so much that it was some time after Filostrato had finished before they managed to contain their mirth. But when their laughter had died away, the queen said:

  ‘Without a doubt, Filostrato, though you plunged us all into sorrow yesterday, you have tickled our ribs so much today that we cannot hold it against you any longer.’

  Then, turning to Neifile, she asked her to tell her story, and Neifile cheerfully began, as follows:

  Since Filostrato crossed the borders of Romagna for the subject of his tale, I too shall take the liberty of roaming for a while in that part of the world.

  In the town of Fano,1 then, there once lived two Lombards, of whom the first was called Guidotto da Cremona and the second Giacomino da Pavia. No longer young, they had spent the greater part of their lives in warring and soldiering, and on his deathbed, Guidotto, who had no children of his own and trusted Giacomino more than any other friend or relative, committed to his comrade’s care a little girl of his, who was about ten years of age. He also bequeathed him all his worldly possessions, and having talked to him at length about his affairs, he departed this life.

  Now, around that period, the town of Faenza,2 which for many years had been ravaged by war and other calamities, was restored to somewhat more stable conditions, and anyone wishing to return was freely permitted to do so. Hence Giacomino, who had once lived in Faenza and had grown attached to the place, returned there with all his belongings, taking with him the girl entrusted to him by Guidotto, whom he loved and treated as a daughter.

  As she grew older, the girl became singularly beautiful, being better looking than any other young woman then living in Faenza; and with her beauty were united a virtuous disposition and graceful manners. She thus began to attract the gaze of various admirers, and in particular of two very handsome and well-connected young men, who fell so violently in love with her that their jealousy and hatred of each other surpassed all bounds. The first of these was called Giannole di Severino, the second Minghino di Mingole, and neither would have hesitated for a moment to marry the girl, who had now reached the age of fifteen, if the consent of his kinsfolk had been forthcoming. But since this was not the case, each of them resolved to seize possession of her by whatever means he could devise.

  Giacomino had in his house an elderly maidservant and a serving-man called Crivello, a highly sociable and entertaining sort of fellow, with whom Giannole became very friendly. Choosing the right moment Giannole told Crivello all about his love for the girl, imploring him to assist him in attaining his desire, and promising to reward him handsomely in return.

  ‘Now look,’ said Crivello, ‘there is only one possible way in which I could be of service to you, and that consists in waiting for Giacomino to dine away from home and then letting you in to the room where she happens to be. If I were to broach the subject to her orally, she would never stop to listen. If this plan appeals to you, I promise to see it through, and I shall be as good as my word, after which it will be up to you to make the most of your opportunities.’

  Giannole assured him that this was all he desired, and there, for the time being, the matter rested.

  For his part, Minghino had made friends with the maidservant, working upon her to such good effect that she had delivered several messages to the girl and almost fired her with Minghino’s love. Moreover she had promised to convey him to her as soon as Giacomino chanced for any reason to be away from the house for the evening.

  A few days after his conversation with Giannole, Crivello persuaded Giacomino to accept an invitation to supper at the house of one of his friends; and having passed the word to Giannole, he arranged that on receiving a certain signal Giannole was to come to the front door, which he would find unlocked. Meanwhile the maidservant, knowing nothing of all this, sent word to Minghino that Giacomino was going out to supper, and told him to stay near the house so that, when she gave him the signal, he could come and be let in.

  Neither of the two lovers knew anything of the other’s movements, and soon after dusk, each of them, being suspicious of his rival, set out with a number of armed companions so as to be certain of carrying off the prize. Since they were obliged to wait for the signal, Minghino and his men stationed themselves in a house nearby belonging to one of his friends, whilst Giannole bided his time with his companions some little distance away from the girl’s house.

  Once Giacomino was out of the way, Crivello and the maidservant made strenuous efforts to send each other packing.

  ‘Why don’t you go to bed?’ said Crivello. ‘What are you pottering about the house for at this hour?’

  ‘What about you?’ said the maidservant. ‘Why not go and wait for your master? What are you hanging about here for, now that you’ve had your supper?’

  Thus neither could persuade the other to go away, and Crivello, realizing that the hour agreed upon with Giannole had come, said to himself: ‘Why should I worry about her? If she doesn’t keep her mouth shut, so much the worse for her.’

  And so, having given the prearranged signal, he went to open the door for Giannole, who promptly arrived with two of his companions and made his way inside. Finding the girl in the hall, they seized her in order to carry her off, but she began to struggle and scream at the top of her voice, and the maidservant followed her example. On hearin
g all the noise, Minghino rushed to the spot with his companions to find the girl already being dragged through the doorway; whereupon they all drew their swords, and with shouts of ‘Ah, traitors, you are dead! You shan’t get away with this! What’s the meaning of this outrage?’ they started raining blows on their opponents. Meanwhile a number of people from the neighbouring houses, having taken up lanterns and weapons, had rushed out into the street in order to see what the noise was about, and begun to hurl abuse at the girl’s assailants. And with their assistance, Minghino managed after a long struggle to snatch the girl away from Giannole and put her back inside the house. The affray continued until the officers of the podestà arrived on the scene and arrested a large number of the combatants including Minghino, Giannole, and Crivello, all of whom were led away to prison.

  By the time Giacomino returned home, peace had been restored. And though he was greatly perturbed by what had happened, on looking into the matter and discovering that the girl was in no way to blame, he was partially reassured. At the same time he resolved, so as to prevent the same thing happening all over again, to have the girl married at the earliest opportunity.

  Next morning he received a deputation from the kinsfolk of the two parties concerned, who had apprised themselves of the facts and were well aware of the parlous situation in which the arrested youths would find themselves if Giacomino were to seek the retribution he had every right to demand. With honeyed words, they begged him to suit his actions, not so much to the injury he had received from the young men’s thoughtlessness, as to the love and goodwill which they were convinced that he bore to themselves, his humble suppliants. Then they offered, on behalf not only of themselves but also of the young men who had perpetrated the deed, to make whatever amends Giacomino cared to specify.