Tales From the Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio

by Giovanni Boccaccio

  ‘My lady,’ replied Messer Gentile, ‘no matter how deeply I may have yearned in former times, I have no intention either now or in the future (since God has granted me this favour of restoring you to life on account of the love I once bore you) of treating you otherwise than as a very dear sister, either here or anywhere else. But the office I performed tonight on your behalf deserves some kind of reward; and hence I trust you will not deny me the favour I am about to ask of you.’

  The lady graciously signified her willingness to grant him the favour, provided it lay in her power to do so and there was nothing improper about it. So Messer Gentile said:

  ‘My lady, all your kinsfolk and all the people in Bologna firmly believe you to be dead, so that no one in your house is expecting you. Hence I should like you to be so kind as to stay here quietly with my mother until I return from Modena, which will be quite soon. My reason for asking you this is that I propose to make a precious gift of you to your husband, in a formal ceremony to which all the leading citizens will be invited.’

  The lady was longing to gladden her kinsfolk with the news of her return from the dead, but since she acknowledged her debt to Messer Gentile and saw nothing wrong in his request, she resolved to do as he had asked; and she pledged him her word to that effect.

  Scarcely had she finished giving him her answer than she felt the first indications that she was about to be delivered of her child, and not long afterwards, with the tender assistance of Messer Gentile’s mother, she gave birth to a handsome boy. This event increased a thousandfold the happiness both of Messer Gentile and herself; and after ordering that she should have everything she needed and that she was to be treated exactly as though she were his own wife, Messer Gentile returned in secret to Modena.

  When the period of his office at Modena came to an end and he was on the point of returning to Bologna, he arranged that on the morning of his arrival a great and splendid banquet should be given at his house for a large number of the city’s notables, including Niccoluccio Caccianimico. Upon his arrival he dismounted and went to join his guests, having first called on the lady to find that she was looking healthier and lovelier than ever, and that her small son was also fit and well. And then, with matchless cordiality, he showed his guests to the table and saw that they were regally dined and wined.

  When the meal was approaching its end, Messer Gentile, having previously told the lady what he intended to do and arranged with her concerning the manner in which she was to comport herself, got up and addressed them as follows:

  ‘Gentlemen, I recall having once been told that in Persia there is a custom,3 highly agreeable to my way of thinking, whereby when a person wishes to pay the highest honour to a friend, he invites him to his house and shows him the thing he holds most dear, whether it be his wife, his mistress, his daughter, or what you will, at the same time declaring that if it were possible to do so, he would even more readily show him the very heart from his body. And I propose that we should observe this selfsame custom here in Bologna.

  ‘You have been good enough to honour my banquet with your presence, and I now intend to honour you in the Persian style by showing you the most precious thing I possess or am ever likely to possess. But before doing this, I would ask you to give me your opinion upon the problem that I am about to place before you. A certain person has in his house a good and most loyal servant, who suddenly falls seriously ill; the gentleman in question, without waiting for the ailing servant to breathe his last, has him thrown on to the street and takes no further interest in him; then a stranger comes along who, taking pity on the invalid, conveys him to his house, where, with much loving care and at much expense, he restores him to his former state of health. Now what I should like to know is whether, if the second gentleman keeps him and uses his services, the first has any reasonable ground for complaint or regret when he demands to have him back and is refused.’

  Messer Gentile’s noble guests, having discussed the various pros and cons amongst themselves, all reached the same conclusion; and since Niccoluccio Caccianimico was a gifted and eloquent speaker, they left it to him to deliver their reply.

  Niccoluccio began by extolling the Persian custom, then said that he and his fellow guests were of the unanimous opinion that the first gentleman had no legal claim to the servant, because in the instance cited he had not only abandoned him but cast him away; and that on account of the good offices rendered by the second gentleman, it appeared he was entitled to regard the servant as his own, because in refusing to give him up, he was neither causing any trouble, nor offering any insult, nor doing any injury, to the first.

  All the others sitting round the tables (and there was many a worthy gentleman among them) chorused their approval of the answer Niccoluccio had given; and Messer Gentile, delighted with this reply and with the fact that it had come from Niccoluccio himself, affirmed that he too shared their opinion. Then he said:

  ‘The time has come for me to do you honour as I promised.’ And summoning two of his servants, he sent them to the lady, whom he had caused to be regally attired and adorned, requesting that she be pleased to come and gladden the gentlemen with her presence. Taking her bonny infant in her arms, she descended, accompanied by the two servants, to the hall, where at Messer Gentile’s bidding she sat down next to one of the gentlemen; and then he said:

  ‘Gentlemen, this is the jewel that I cherish above all others, and intend to treasure always. See for yourselves whether you think I have good cause.’

  The gentlemen paid her eloquent homage and warmly commended her, and having assured their host that he ought indeed to cherish her, they all began to gaze in her direction. Many of those present would have sworn she was the person she actually was, but for the fact that they understood her to be dead. But the one who gazed most intently of all upon her was Niccoluccio, who was dying to know who she was; and no sooner did his host move aside from the lady than his curiosity got the better of him and he asked her whether she was a Bolognese or a foreigner.

  On hearing this question being put to her by her own husband, it was something of an effort for the lady to withhold a reply; but faithful to her instructions she remained silent. Another of the gentlemen asked her whether the infant was hers, and yet another inquired whether she was Messer Gentile’s wife, but to neither did she offer any answer. However they were now rejoined by Messer Gentile, and one of his guests said to him:

  ‘This jewel of yours is indeed very beautiful, but are we right in thinking she is dumb?’

  ‘Gentlemen,’ replied Messer Gentile, ‘that she has hitherto remained silent is no small proof of her virtue.’

  ‘You tell us then,’ replied the other. ‘Who is she?’

  ‘I shall be only too happy to tell you,’ he replied, ‘provided that you all promise not to move from your places, no matter what I may say, until I have finished speaking.’

  They all gave him their promise, and once the tables had been cleared, Messer Gentile took his seat alongside the lady and said:

  ‘Gentlemen, this lady is the faithful and loyal servant to whom I was referring in the question I put to you just now. Being little prized by her own people, she was cast like something vile and useless into the gutter, whence I myself retrieved her, and by dint of my loving care I removed her from death’s grasp with my own hands. In recognition of my pure affection for the lady, God has transformed her from a fearsome corpse into the lovely object that you see before you. But so that you may have a better idea of how this came about, I shall briefly explain the circumstances.’

  And so, much to the amazement of his hearers, he gave a clear account of all that had happened from the time he had first fallen in love with the lady until that very hour, then added:

  ‘Therefore, unless you have suddenly changed your opinion, and Niccoluccio especially, this lady belongs to me as of right, and no one can lawfully demand her return.’

  To this assertion nobody offered any reply, but they all waited to disco
ver what he was going to say next. Niccoluccio, along with one or two others and the lady herself, dissolved into tears; but Messer Gentile rose to his feet, took the tiny infant in his arms, and, leading the lady by the hand, walked up to Niccoluccio, saying:

  ‘Stand up now, my friend: I shall not restore your wife to you, for she was cast out by your kinsfolk and her own; but I wish to present you with this lady, together with her little child, of whom you are assuredly the father, though I am his godfather, and when I held him at his christening I named him Gentile. Nor should you cherish her any the less for having spent the best part of three months under my roof; for I swear to you in the name of God (who possibly willed that I should fall in love with her so that my love would be the instrument of her deliverance) that she never led a more upright existence with her parents or with you yourself than the life she has lived here in this house under my mother’s care.’

  He then turned to the lady and said:

  ‘I now release you, my lady, from every promise you gave me, and hereby deliver you to Niccoluccio.’ And having left the lady and the child with Niccoluccio, he returned to his place.

  Niccoluccio received his wife and son eagerly in his arms, his joy being all the greater for being so totally unexpected, and thanked Messer Gentile to the best of his power and ability. This touching scene moved all the other guests to tears, and they were full of praise for Messer Gentile, as indeed were all those who came to hear of his story.

  The lady was welcomed home amid scenes of great rejoicing, and for a long time afterwards the people of Bologna regarded her with awe as someone who had returned from the dead. And as for Messer Gentile, for the rest of his life he remained a close friend of Niccoluccio as well as of the families of both Niccoluccio and his wife.

  What are we to conclude then, gentle ladies? Are we to regard a king who gave away his crown and sceptre, an abbot who reconciled an outlaw to the Pope at no cost to himself, or an old man who exposed his throat to the dagger of his adversary, as being in any way comparable to one who performed so noble a deed as Messer Gentile? For here we have the case of a man in the ardent flush of youth, who, believing himself to be legally entitled to that which the negligence of others had discarded and which he had the good fortune to retrieve, not only kept his ardour under decent restraint, but on obtaining the very object which he had coveted with his whole being for so long, generously surrendered it. In all conscience, none of the instances previously cited seems to me comparable to this.

  FIFTH STORY

  Madonna Dianora asks Messer Ansaldo for a beautiful May garden in the month of January, and Messer Ansaldo fulfils her request after hiring the services of a magician. Her husband then gives her permission to submit to Messer Ansaldo’s pleasure, but on hearing of the husband’s liberality Messer Ansaldo releases her from her promise, whilst the magician excuses Messer Ansaldo from the payment of any fee.

  Every member of the joyful company praised Messer Gentile to the very skies, after which the king called upon Emilia to follow: and with a confident air, as though she were longing to speak, she thus began:

  Dainty ladies, no one can seriously deny that Messer Gentile acted munificently, but if anyone should claim that to do more would be impossible, it will not be too difficult to prove that they are wrong, as I propose to show you in this little story of mine.

  In the province of Friuli,1 which is cold but richly endowed with beautiful mountains, numerous rivers, and limpid streams, there is a town called Udine, where once there lived a beautiful noblewoman called Madonna Dianora, who was married to a most agreeable and good-natured man, exceedingly wealthy, whose name was Gilberto. Because of her outstanding worth, this lady attracted the undying love of a great and noble lord called Messer Ansaldo Gradense, a man of high repute, famous throughout the land for his feats of arms and deeds of courtesy. But although he loved her fervently and did everything he possibly could to persuade her to requite his love, sending her numerous messages to this end, all his efforts were unavailing. Eventually the lady grew tired of the knight’s entreaties, and seeing that however firmly she rejected his approaches he still persisted in loving and importuning her, she decided to rid herself of him once and for all by requesting him to do something for her that was both bizarre and, as she thought, impossible. So one day, she said to the woman who regularly came to see her on Messer Ansaldo’s behalf:

  ‘My good woman, you have repeatedly assured me that Messer Ansaldo loves me above all else, and offered me sumptuous gifts on his behalf, all of which I prefer that he should keep, for they could never induce me to love him or submit to his pleasure. If only I could be certain, however, that he loved me as much as you claim, I should undoubtedly bring myself to love him and do his bidding. So if he will offer me proof of his love by doing what I intend to ask of him, I shall be only too ready to obey his commands.’

  ‘And what is it, ma’am,’ the good woman asked, ‘that you want him to do?’

  ‘What I want is this,’ replied the lady. ‘In the month of January that is now approaching, I want a garden, somewhere near the town, that is full of green plants, flowers, and leafy trees, exactly as though it were the month of May. And if he fails to provide it, let him take good care never to send you or anyone else to me again. For if he should provoke me any further, I shall no longer keep this matter a secret as I have until now, but I shall seek to rid myself of his attentions by complaining to my husband and kinsfolk.’

  On hearing about the lady’s proposition, the gentleman naturally felt that she was asking him to do something very difficult, or rather well-nigh impossible, and realized that her only reason for demanding such a thing was to dash his hopes; but nevertheless he resolved that he would explore every possible means of furnishing her request. He therefore set inquiries afoot in various parts of the world to see whether anyone could be found to advise and assist him in the matter, and eventually got hold of a man who offered to do it by magic, provided he was well-enough paid. So Messer Ansaldo agreed to pay him a huge sum of money, and waited contentedly for the time the lady had appointed. And during the night preceding the calends of January, when the cold was very intense and everything was covered in snow and ice, the magician employed his skills to such good effect that in a beautiful meadow not far from the town, there appeared next morning, as all those who saw it bore witness, one of the fairest gardens that anyone had ever seen, with plants and trees and fruits of every conceivable kind. No sooner did Messer Ansaldo feast his eyes upon this spectacle than he caused a quantity of the finest fruits and flowers to be gathered and secretly presented to his lady, inviting her to come and see the garden she had asked for, so that she would not only realize how much he loved her, but recall the solemn pledge she had given and take steps to keep her word in the manner of a true gentlewoman.

  The lady had been hearing many reports of the wonderful garden, and when she saw the flowers and the fruits, she began to repent of her promise. But for all her repentance, being curious to observe so rare a phenomenon, she went with several other ladies of the town to see the garden, and after commending it greatly and betraying no little astonishment, she made her way home in the depths of despair, thinking of what it obliged her to do. So profound was her distress, in fact, that she was unable to conceal it, with the inevitable result that her husband, noticing how melancholy she looked, demanded to know the reason. For some little time she remained silent, being too embarrassed to say anything, but finally he forced her to tell him the whole story from beginning to end.

  Gilberto was at first extremely angry, but after mature reflection, bearing in mind the purity of his wife’s intentions, he put aside his anger and said:

  ‘Dianora, no wise or virtuous woman should ever pay heed to messages of that sort, nor should she ever barter her chastity with anyone, no matter what terms she may impose. The power of words received by the heart through the ears is greater than many people think, and to those who are in love nearly everything become
s possible.2 Hence you did wrong, first of all to pay any heed to him and secondly to barter with him. But because I know you were acting from the purest of motives, I shall allow you, so as to be quit of your promise, to do something which possibly no other man would permit, being swayed also by my fear of the magician, whom Messer Ansaldo, if you were to play him false, would perhaps encourage to do us a mischief. I therefore want you to go to him, and endeavour in every way possible to have yourself released from this promise without loss of honour; but if this should prove impossible, just for this once you may give him your body, but not your heart.’

  On hearing her husband speak in this way, the lady burst into tears, maintaining that she wanted no such favour from him; but no matter how loudly she protested, Gilberto was adamant. And so next morning, just as dawn was breaking, the lady set out, by no means richly adorned, together with one of her maids, and preceded by two of her husband’s retainers she made her way to Messer Ansaldo’s house. Messer Ansaldo was astounded to hear that his lady had come, and leaping out of bed he summoned the magician and said to him:

  ‘I want you to see for yourself how great a prize your skill has procured me.’

  They then descended to meet her, and Messer Ansaldo greeted her courteously and reverentially, without any show of unbridled passion, after which they all made their way into a splendid apartment where a huge fire was burning. After having offered her somewhere to sit, Messer Ansaldo said:

  ‘My lady, if the love I have so long borne you merits any reward, I beseech you to do me the kindness of telling me truthfully why you have come here at this hour of day with so few people to bear you company.’