Giacomino’s answer was quickly given, for in the course of his life he had seen many worse things than this, and he was not the sort of man to harbour resentment.
‘Gentlemen,’ he said, ‘even if I were in my native city, and not in yours, I count myself the sort of friend who would never do anything that was contrary to your wishes, either in the present instance or in any other. Besides, I am more than ever bound to respect your wishes in this matter inasmuch as you have wronged one of yourselves, for this young woman comes neither from Cremona nor Pavia, as many people may possibly have supposed, but from Faenza, though neither she nor I nor the person who entrusted her to my care ever discovered whose daughter she was. Hence I am fully prepared to do as you ask.’
The worthy men were surprised to learn that the girl was a native of Faenza, and having thanked Giacomino for taking so generous a view of the matter, they asked him to be so kind as to explain how she had come under his control, and how he knew that she was from Faenza.
Giacomino said to them:
‘Guidotto da Cremona, who was a friend and comrade of mine, informed me on his deathbed that when this town was captured by the Emperor Frederick, and everything was being plundered, he and his companions entered a house and found it full of booty. All the inhabitants had fled except for this girl, who would be about two years old at the time, and as he was going up the stairs, she called him “father”. He felt sorry for the child, and together with all the valuables from the house, he took her with him to Fano. And in Fano, as he lay dying, he appointed me her guardian and bequeathed to me everything he possessed, on the understanding that when she grew up I would see that she was married, handing over his fortune to her by way of dowry. She is now of marriageable age, but I have not yet succeeded in finding a suitable husband for her. The sooner I can do so the better, for I’ve no wish to suffer the things I suffered last night all over again.’
One of the people present was Guiglielmino da Medicina, who had been with Guidotto at the time of this escapade, and remembered quite clearly whose house Guidotto had plundered. Seeing the owner of the house standing there with the others, he went up to him and said:
‘Bernabuccio, do you hear what Giacomino says?’
‘Yes,’ said Bernabuccio, ‘and I was just thinking about it, because during those upheavals I lost a little girl of the age that Giacomino mentioned.’
‘Then it must be the same girl,’ said Guiglielmino, ‘for I was once in a place where I heard Guidotto describing the house he had looted, and I recognized it as yours. Try and remember whether the child had any mark by which you could identify her, and get them to look for it. I am certain you will find that she is your daughter.’
Having pondered for a while, Bernabuccio remembered that she ought to have a small scar above her left ear in the shape of a cross – the remains of an abscess which he had had removed shortly before his house was looted. So without further ado he went up to Giacomino, who was still standing on his doorstep, and asked him to take him into the house and let him see the girl.
Giacomino readily took him inside, and introduced him to the girl. As soon as Bernabuccio set eyes on her, he could see that she was the living image of the child’s mother, who was still a good-looking woman. Not content with this, however, he asked Giacomino if he would kindly allow him to lift the hair above the girl’s left ear, and Giacomino told him to go ahead.
Bernabuccio went up to the girl, who was feeling rather embarrassed by all this, and having raised her hair with his right hand, he caught sight of the cross-shaped scar. Now that he knew for certain that she was his daughter, he burst into tears and enfolded her in a tender embrace, albeit the girl attempted to hold him at a distance; and turning to Giacomino he said:
‘Brother, this is my daughter; it was my house that was plundered by Guidotto, and in the heat of the moment my wife, the child’s mother, left her behind. Later that day, my house was set on fire, and we had always supposed until now that the child was burned to death.’
On hearing this the girl, having taken account of his age and the fact that his words rang true, was prompted by some mysterious impulse to relax in his arms and tenderly mingle her tears with his.
Bernabuccio instantly sent for her mother and for other women relatives, as well as for her brothers and sisters, and having presented her to each of them in turn and told them the story, he took her back to his house amid great rejoicing and the exchange of a thousand embraces, Giacomino being well content that he should have her. Tidings of these events were brought to the podestà, an excellent fellow, who, knowing that Giannole, whom he was holding prisoner, was the son of Bernabuccio and the girl’s blood-brother, decided to deal with him leniently and overlook the offence he had committed. What was more, he took a personal interest in the affair, and in consultation with Bernabuccio and Giacomino he induced Giannole and Minghino to make peace with one another. Then, to the enormous satisfaction of Minghino’s kinsfolk, he announced that the girl, whose name was Agnesa, was to be married to Minghino; and having set the two young men at liberty, he also released Crivello and the others who had been implicated in the matter.
Shortly afterwards Minghino, overjoyed, celebrated his nuptials in truly magnificent style and conveyed his bride to his house, thereafter living many years with her in peace and prosperity.
SIXTH STORY
Gianni of Procida is found with the girl he loves, who had been handed over to King Frederick. He and the girl are tied to a stake, and are about to be burnt when he is recognized by Ruggieri de Loria. He is then set free, and afterwards they are married.
Neifile’s story found much favour with the ladies, and when it came to an end, the queen called on Pampinea to tell them one of hers. Her face upraised and smiling, she forthwith began:
Mighty indeed, dear ladies, are the powers of Love, inducing lovers, as they do, to endure great hardships and expose themselves to extraordinary and incredible risks. Ample confirmation of this is to be found in many of the stories already told, both today and on other occasions, but nevertheless I should like to prove it once again with this tale of a young lover’s courage.
On Ischia, which is an island very near Naples, there once lived an exceedingly charming and beautiful girl called Restituta, the daughter of Marin Bòlgaro,1 a nobleman of the island. She was loved to the point of distraction by a young man from Procida, a small island close to Ischia, whose name was Gianni, and she in turn was in love with him. Not content with going from Procida to Ischia every day to catch a glimpse of his beloved, Gianni would frequently make the crossing by night, swimming there and back2 if no boat was available, so that, even if he could see nothing else, he could at least gaze upon the walls of her house.
Thus they were deeply in love with each other, but one summer’s day, as the girl was wandering by herself along the shore, prising sea-shells from the rocks with a small knife, she chanced upon a tiny cove, hemmed in by cliffs, where a number of young Sicilians, on their way from Naples, had landed from their frigate in order to relax in the shade and take fresh water from a nearby spring.
The girl failed to notice them, and when they perceived how beautiful she was, seeing that she was all alone, the youths resolved to seize her and carry her off. Nor did they waste any time in giving effect to their resolve, but promptly took hold of the girl, and, though she screamed and shouted, bundled her aboard their ship. They then sailed away, but on arriving in Calabria, they fell to arguing among themselves over which of them was to take possession of the girl, each of them wanting her for himself. Being unable to reach any sort of agreement, they decided, rather than make matters worse and bring ruin upon themselves for the sake of a girl, to give her to King Frederick of Sicily,3 who was then a young man, much addicted to pretty things of that sort. And this they did on reaching Palermo.
The girl was greatly prized by the King on account of her beauty, but as he was feeling somewhat indisposed, he ordered that until such time as he recovered
she should be lodged with a retinue in a sumptuous villa in one of his gardens, known as La Cuba;4 and these instructions were carried out.
The girl’s abduction gave rise to a great furore in Ischia, but the worst part about it was that they had no idea who it was that had carried her off. Gianni, who was the person most deeply affected by her disappearance, knew better than to hang about waiting for news in Ischia, and, having ascertained the direction taken by her captors, he hired a frigate of his own, in which, as swiftly as possible, he scoured the whole of the coast from Cape Minerva to Scalea5 in Calabria, making inquiries about the girl wherever he went. Finally, at Scalea, he was told she had been taken by Sicilian sailors to Palermo, and thither he made his way as speedily as he could. On discovering, after searching high and low for her, that she had been given to the King and was being kept by him in La Cuba, he was greatly perturbed and not only despaired of retrieving her but almost gave up hope of ever seeing her again.
Nevertheless, sustained by Love, he sent away the frigate and remained in Palermo, for it was clear that nobody in those parts knew who he was. He frequently walked past La Cuba, and one day, to the great joy both of himself and the girl, they caught sight of each other as she was standing at a window. Seeing that the street was deserted, Gianni got as near to her as he could manage, spoke to her, and was told by the girl of the means he would have to adopt if he wanted to talk to her in greater privacy. He then went away, having first surveyed with care the surrounding area. Biding his time till long after darkness had fallen, he returned to the spot, and by climbing over a wall that would not have afforded a perch to a woodpecker, he made his way into the garden. There he found a long pole, and having, in accordance with the girl’s instructions, propped it against a window, he hauled himself up to it without any trouble.
Feeling that her honour was by now as good as lost, the girl, who in the past had treated him rather cruelly in her determination to preserve it, had made up her mind to gratify his every desire, for she could think of no man who had a greater right to possess her, and moreover she was hopeful of persuading him to effect her release; she had therefore left the window open, to ensure that he had immediate access to her.
Finding the window open, Gianni clambered silently into the room and lay down beside the girl, who was not asleep by any means. Before they did anything else, the girl apprised him fully of her intentions, imploring him with all her heart to release her from captivity and take her away. Gianni assured her that nothing would give him greater pleasure, and that, on taking his leave of her, he would without fail make such arrangements as would enable him, on his next visit, to convey her to safety.
They then enfolded one another in a blissful embrace, and partook of the greatest pleasure that Love can supply, repeating the experience several times over until they unwittingly fell asleep in each other’s arms.
Shortly before daybreak, the King, who had taken an instant liking to the girl and was now feeling better, called her to mind, and resolved, despite the lateness of the hour, to go and spend some time in her company; so he quietly made his way to La Cuba with one of his retainers. On entering the building, he went straight to the room where he knew the girl to be sleeping and got the servants to open the door without making a sound. Preceded by a huge, blazing torch,6 he walked into the room, only to discover, on looking at the bed, that Gianni and the girl were lying there asleep and naked in one another’s arms. This spectacle rendered him speechless with horror and distress, and he was so enraged that he could scarcely forbear from drawing a dagger from his belt and killing them where they lay. But on reflecting that it would be a most cowardly deed for any man, let alone a king, to kill two people lying naked and asleep, he held himself in check, and resolved instead to have them publicly burnt at the stake. Turning to the single companion who was with him, he said:
‘What think you of this shameless hussy, in whom I once reposed my hopes?’
He then inquired of his companion whether he could recognize this young man, who had had the impudence to come and perpetrate such an outrage on the King in his own house, and the man replied that he could not recall having ever set eyes on the youth.
So the King stormed out of the room, and ordered that the two lovers, naked as they were, should be seized and tied up; and as soon as daylight came, they were to be brought to the main square in Palermo and bound, back to back, to a stake, there to remain till the hour of tierce, so that they could be seen by the whole of the populace, after which they were to be burnt alive in accordance with their deserts. These instructions given, he returned to Palermo and retired in high dudgeon to his room.
As soon as the King had left, several men burst in on the two lovers, and not only woke them up, but swiftly seized and bound them without any pity. As may readily be imagined, on seeing what was happening to them the two young people were greatly alarmed, and, fearing they would be put to death, they burst into tears and bitterly reproached themselves. In accordance with the King’s command, they were taken to Palermo and tied to a stake in the square; and before their eyes faggots were stacked in readiness for them to be burnt alive at the hour the King had decreed.
All the men and women of Palermo immediately hurried to the square in order to see the two lovers: and whilst the men stood and gazed at the girl, unanimously praising her shapeliness and beauty, so the women were all clustering round the youth, expressing their warm approval of his fine figure and handsome features. But the pair of hapless lovers hung their heads in shame and bewailed their misfortune, expecting at any moment to be cruelly consumed by the fire.
Whilst they were thus being held until the hour fixed for their execution, news of their offence was bruited abroad and reached the ears of Ruggieri de Loria, a man of inestimable worth, who at that time was the Admiral of the Royal Fleet. Curious to see who they were, he made his way towards the place where they stood bound to the stake, and, on reaching the spot, he looked at the girl and found her exceedingly beautiful. He then directed his gaze at the youth, whom he recognized without too much trouble, and moving a little nearer he asked him whether he was Gianni of Procida.
Gianni raised his eyes, and, recognizing the Admiral, he replied:
‘My lord, I was indeed the man of whom you speak, but I am about to be that person no longer.’
Whereupon the Admiral asked what had brought him to such a pass, and Gianni replied:
‘Love, and the wrath of the King.’
The Admiral persuaded him to elaborate, and having heard the whole story from Gianni’s own lips, he turned to go. But Gianni called him back, and said:
‘Alas, my lord, procure me a favour, if this be possible, from the person who set me here.’
Ruggieri asked what favour he had in mind, and Gianni said:
‘I see that I must die, and very soon. Wherefore, seeing that I have been set here back to back with this young woman, whom I loved more dearly than life itself, being loved no less deeply in return, I should like us to be turned face to face, so that I may have the consolation of gazing into her eyes as I depart.’
‘With pleasure!’ exclaimed Ruggieri, with a laugh. ‘And if I have my way, you shall see so much of her that before you die you’ll be sorry you ever asked such a favour.’
Leaving Gianni, he spoke to the men charged with carrying out the sentence, and ordered them not to proceed any further with-out new instructions from the King, to whom he forthwith made his way. And although he could see that the King was extremely distraught, he was not to be deterred from speaking his mind.
‘My lord,’ he said, ‘what injury have you suffered from the two young people you have sentenced to be burnt down there in the square?’
The King told him, and Ruggieri continued:
‘They have done wrong, and well deserve to be punished, but not by you; for although wrongdoing requires a punishment, good deeds require a reward, to say nothing of pardon and clemency. Do you realize who these people are that you are so ea
ger to put to death at the stake?’
The King replied that he did not know them, whereupon Ruggieri said:
‘Then I shall make it my business to tell you, so that you will see how unwise it is for you to let yourself be carried away by your anger. The young man is the son of Landolfo of Procida, blood-brother to Messer Gianni of Procida, through whose efforts you became King and master of this island. The girl is the daughter of Marin Bòlgaro, without whose power and influence Ischia would be lost to you tomorrow.7 What is more, these two youngsters have long been in love with one another, and it was not out of any disrespect towards your royal highness, but rather through being constrained by their love, that they committed this sin of theirs – if sin is a suitable word to describe the things young people do in the cause of love. Why, then, should you wish to have them put to death, when you ought to be entertaining them right royally and bestowing precious gifts upon them?’
On realizing that Ruggieri must be speaking the truth, the King was not only filled with horror over what he was proposing to do, but bitterly regretted the action he had already taken. So he promptly sent word that the two young lovers were to be released from the stake and brought into his presence. These orders were carried out, and after inquiring fully into their condition, the King decided that he must make amends, through largesse and hospitality, for the indignity he had caused them to suffer. He therefore had them newly clothed in courtly attire, and arranged, by their mutual consent, for Gianni and the girl to be married. And finally he sent them back, well content and laden with magnificent presents, to the place from which they had come. There they were received with tremendous rejoicing, and long thereafter lived in joy and happiness together.
Tales From the Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio Page 64