The Decameron

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by Giovanni Boccaccio


  In the ancient city of Naples, which is perhaps as delectable a city as any to be found in Italy, there once lived a young patrician, immensely rich and blue-blooded, whose name was Ricciardo Minutolo.2 Although he was married to a charming and very lovely young wife, he fell in love with a lady who by common consent was far more beautiful than any other woman in Naples. A paragon of virtue, she was called Catella, and was married to a young nobleman called Filippello Sighinolfo, whom she loved and cherished more dearly than anything else in the world.

  So although Ricciardo Minutolo was in love with this Catella and did all the right things for winning a lady’s favour and affection, he was unable to make the slightest impression upon her, and had almost reached the end of his tether. Even if he had known how to free himself from the bonds of love, he was quite incapable of doing so, and yet he could neither die nor see any point in living. And one day, as he languished away in this manner, it happened that certain kinswomen of his urged him very strongly to call a halt to his philandering, pointing out that he was wasting his energies because Catella loved no man except Filippello, towards whom she was so jealously devoted that she suspected the very birds flying through the air, lest they should whisk him away from her.

  On learning of Catella’s jealousy, Ricciardo suddenly thought of a possible way to gratify his longings. He began to pretend that, having abandoned all hope of winning Catella’s affection, he had fallen in love with another lady, and that it was now for her sake that he tilted and jousted and did all the things he had formerly done for Catella. Nor did it take him very long before he convinced nearly everyone in Naples, including Catella, that he was madly in love with this other lady. And so successful was he in sustaining this pretence, that Catella herself, not to mention various other people who had previously snubbed him on account of the attentions he was paying her, began to offer him the same civil, neighbourly greeting, whenever she met him, that she accorded to others.

  Now it so happened that one day, during a spell of hot weather, several parties of the Neapolitan nobility, in accordance with local custom, set off for an outing along the sea-coast, where they would lunch and sup before returning home. And on discovering that Catella had gone there with a party of ladies, Ricciardo got together a little group of his own and made for the same place, which he no sooner reached than he received an invitation to join Catella’s party. This he accepted after a certain show of reluctance, as though he were not at all anxious to press himself on their company. The ladies then began, with Catella joining in the fun, to pull Ricciardo’s leg on the subject of his latest lady-love, whereupon he pretended to take violent offence, thus supplying them with further food for gossip. Eventually, as is the custom on such occasions, several of the ladies wandered off one by one in different directions, until only a handful of them, including Catella, were left behind with Ricciardo, who at a certain point threw off a casual reference to some affair that her husband was supposed to be having. Catella was promptly seized by an attack of jealousy, and her whole body began to throb with a burning desire to know what Ricciardo was talking about. She sat and brooded for a while, but in the end, unable to contain her feelings any longer, she implored Ricciardo, in the name of the lady he loved above all others, to be so good as to explain his remark about Filippello.

  ‘Since you have implored me for her sake,’ he told her, ‘I dare not refuse you anything, no matter what it may be. I am therefore prepared to tell you about it, but you must promise me never to breathe a word of it either to your husband or to anyone else until you have confirmed the truth of my story. This you can do quite easily, and if you like, I will show you how.’

  The lady took him up on this offer, which convinced her all the more that he was telling the truth, and swore to him that her lips would remain sealed. They then drew aside from the others so that they would not be overheard.

  ‘Madam,’ Ricciardo began, ‘if I were still in love with you, as I once was, I would not have the heart to tell you anything that might possibly bring you distress; but since my love for you is now a thing of the past, I shall have fewer misgivings in disclosing exactly what is afoot. I do not know whether Filippello ever took offence at my being in love with you, or whether he mistakenly thought that you reciprocated my love; at all events, he never gave me any such impression. But now, having waited perhaps until such time as he thought me least likely to suspect, he appears to be intent on doing me the same service as he doubtless fears I have done to him: in other words, he is having an affair with my wife. From what I have been able to discover, he has been courting her for some time with the utmost secrecy, sending her a number of messages, all of which she has referred to me; and she has been replying in accordance with my instructions.

  ‘But this very morning, before setting out from home to come here, I found my wife engaged in earnest conversation with some woman whom I instantly recognized for what she was, and so I called my wife and asked her what this person wanted, “It’s that brute of a Filippello,” she said. “By sending him replies and raising his hopes, you have encouraged him to pester me, and now he says he must know at all costs what I am proposing to do. He tells me that he could make arrangements for us to meet in secret at a bagnio3 in the city, and he refuses to take no for an answer. If it weren’t for the fact that you have forced me to lead him on in this way, for reasons best known to yourself, I would have taught him so painful a lesson that he would never have had the courage to look in my direction again” When I heard this, I felt that the fellow was going too far and was no longer to be tolerated, and it seemed to me that I should inform you about it, so that you might know how he rewards that unswerving fidelity of yours which once was almost the death of me.

  ‘Lest you were to imagine, however, that this was all a fairy story, and so as to let you see the whole thing for yourself if you so desired, I prevailed upon my wife to tell the woman, who was still waiting for her answer, that she would present herself at the bagnio tomorrow afternoon around nones, when everyone is asleep. And the woman went away, looking very pleased with herself.

  ‘Now, I don’t suppose you imagine I was going to send her to the bagnio. But if I were you, I would see to it that he found you there instead of the lady he was expecting; and after playing him on the hook for a while, I would let him perceive who it was he had been consorting with, and regale him with all the abuse he deserved. If you do as I suggest, it is my belief that he will be put to so much shame that we shall both be avenged for his evil designs at a single blow.’

  As is usually the way with people who suffer from jealousy, Catella immediately swallowed the whole story without bothering to consider the kind of person who was telling it or whether he could be deceiving her, and began to connect this tale of Ricciardo’s with certain things that had happened in the past. Flying into a sudden rage, she said that she would certainly do as he suggested, because after all, it would cost so little effort on her part. And if Filippello really were to turn up, she was determined to make him feel so ashamed of himself that he would never look at another woman again without being stricken with guilt.

  Ricciardo was pleased with her reaction, and, feeling that he was making good progress with his scheme, he added a number of other details to reinforce her belief in his story, at the same time extracting a faithful promise that she would never reveal the source of her information.

  Next morning, Ricciardo presented his compliments to the good woman who supervised the bagnio that he had mentioned to Catella, explained his intentions, and asked her to give him all the assistance she could. And since she was greatly beholden to him, she willingly agreed to cooperate, and arranged with Ricciardo what she was to do and say.

  In the building where the bagnio was situated, the woman had one room that was extremely dark, there being no window to let in the light. And following Ricciardo’s instructions, she prepared this room for him and caused it to be furnished with her most comfortable bed, upon which, after he had lun
ched, Ricciardo lay down and began to wait for Catella to arrive.

  Meanwhile, on the previous evening, the lady in question had returned home in high dudgeon after hearing Ricciardo’s tale, by which she had allowed herself to be much too easily convinced. Shortly afterwards, Filippello also returned home, and being preoccupied with other matters, he treated her with rather less than his customary affection. This made her considerably more suspicious, and she began saying to herself: ‘He’s obviously thinking of the woman he is planning to have fun and games with tomorrow, but he’s in for a big disappointment.’ And this reflection, together with the thought of what she would say to him after their assignation, kept her awake for most of the night.

  But to cut a long story short, when it was nones Catella collected her personal maid and proceeded, without a second thought, to the bagnio which Ricciardo had told her about.

  On her arrival, she chanced upon the good woman in charge of the establishment, and asked her whether Filippello had been there during the course of the day, to which the woman replied, as instructed by Ricciardo:

  ‘Are you the lady who was to come and speak with him?’

  ‘I am,’ Catella replied.

  ‘Then go straight in,’ said the woman. ‘He’s waiting for you.’

  Catella, heavily veiled, and hotly in pursuit of something she would not have wished to find, got the woman to take her to the room where Ricciardo was waiting, and locked the door from the inside. On seeing her coming, Ricciardo rose joyfully to his feet, took her in his arms, and whispered:

  ‘Welcome, my dearest.’

  In her anxiety.to prove that she really was the person he was expecting, Catella kissed and hugged and made a great fuss of him, at the same time refraining from speaking in case he should recognize her voice.

  The room was exceedingly dark, a circumstance which suited both parties, and it was impossible, even after staying there for any length of time, to make things out with any degree of clarity. Ricciardo quickly guided her to the bed, however, and there they remained for a very long time to their immense and mutual pleasure and delight, though neither ventured to utter a word for fear of being recognized.

  But eventually, Catella felt that the time had come to release her pent up indignation, and blazing with passionate anger she exclaimed:

  ‘Ah! how wretched is the lot of women, and how misplaced the love that many of them bear their husbands! Alas, woe is me! For eight years I have loved you more than my very life, and now I find that you are totally absorbed in a passionate attachment to some other woman. Oh, you unspeakable villain! Who do you think you have just been cavorting with? You have been with the woman who has been lying beside you for the past eight years, the woman you have been deceiving for God knows how long with your false endearments, pretending to love her when all the time you were in love with another.

  ‘You faithless scoundrel, I am not Ricciardo’s wife, but Catella; listen to my voice, and you’ll soon realize who I really am. Oh, how I long to be back again in the light of day, so that I can put you to the shame you so richly deserve, you filthy, loathsome beast. Alas! who have I been loving devotedly for all these years? A faithless cur, who thinks he has a strange woman in his arms, and lavishes more caresses and amorous attention upon me in the brief time I have spent with him here than in the whole of the rest of our married life.

  ‘You unprincipled lout, I must say you have given a splendid display of manly vigour here today, in contrast with the feeble, worn-out, lack-lustre manner that you always adopt in your own house. But thanks be to God, it was your own land you were tilling and not some other man’s, as you fondly imagined. It is no wonder that you kept me at a distance last night: you were planning to disburden yourself elsewhere, and you wanted to arrive fresh and strong at the jousting. But with God’s help, I saw to it that the stream took its natural course.

  ‘Why do you not answer me, you villain? Why don’t you say something? Have my words deprived you of the power of speech? In God’s name, I don’t know how I manage to refrain from plucking your eyes out. You thought you were going to conceal your infidelity very cunningly, didn’t you? But you didn’t succeed, by God, because I’m just as clever as you are, and I’ve had better hounds on your tail than you bargained for.’

  Ricciardo was inwardly relishing this sermon, and without offering any reply he embraced and kissed her, and caressed her more passionately than ever, whereupon she began to harangue him afresh.

  ‘Oh, yes! Now you think you are going to get round me with your false caresses, you disgusting beast. But if you think you can pacify and console me, you’re very much mistaken. I shall never be consoled for this outrage until I have denounced you to every single one of our friends, neighbours and relatives.

  ‘Well now, villain, am I not as beautiful as Ricciardo Minutolò’s wife? Am I not as nobly bred as she? Why don’t you answer me, you foul beast? What has she got that I haven’t? Stay away from me, keep your filthy hands to yourself; you have done quite enough tilting for one day. Oh, I am well aware that you could impose your will on me by brute force, now that you know who I am; but with God’s grace I shall see that you go hungry. Indeed, I cannot understand what prevents me from sending for Ricciardo, who loved me more dearly than his very life, and yet was never able to claim that I so much as looked at him once. I see no reason why I shouldn’t, because after all, you thought you had his wife here, and it would have been all the same to you if you really had. So if I were to have him, you could hardly hold it against me.’

  Now, the words flowed thick and fast, and the lady’s sense of grievance was very great. But in the end, Ricciardo, on reflecting how much trouble might ensue if he let her go away without undeceiving her, decided to disclose who he was. He therefore took her in his arms, holding her tightly so that she could not escape, and said:

  ‘Sweet my soul, do not upset yourself so. What I was unable to achieve by mere wooing, Love has taught me to obtain by deception. I am your Ricciardo.’

  No sooner did Catella hear these words and recognize his voice than she tried to leap out of bed, only to find that she was unable to move. She then prepared to scream, but Ricciardo placed a hand over her mouth, saying:

  ‘My lady, it is impossible now to undo what has happened, even if you were to scream for the rest of your life. Besides, if you scream, or if you ever make this known to anyone, two things will ensue. The first (which ought to cause you no small concern) is that your honour and good name will be laid in ruins, because no matter how much you insist that I tricked you into coming here, I shall say that you are lying. Indeed, I shall maintain that I induced you to come by promising you money and presents, and that the reason you are making such a song and dance about it is simply that you were annoyed because your gains fell short of your expectations. I need hardly remind you that people are more inclined to believe in bad intentions than in good ones, and hence my account will carry no less conviction than yours. In the second place, your husband and I will become mortal enemies, and it could just as easily happen that he is killed by me as I by him, in which case you would inevitably spend the rest of your days in grief and mourning.

  ‘Light of my life, do not at one and the same time bring dishonour upon yourself and jeopardize the lives of your husband and me by setting us at each other’s throats. You are not the first woman to have been deceived, nor will you be the last, and in any case I had no intention of depriving you of anything. I was impelled to do it by excess of love, and indeed I am prepared to love you and serve you in all humility for the rest of my days. For a long time past, I and everything I possess have been yours, and all my power and influence have been at your disposal; but henceforth I intend to place them more completely than ever at your command. You are a wise woman, and I am certain that you will act now with that same good sense that you are wont to display in other matters.’

  Catella wept bitterly while Ricciardo was speaking, and though she was exceedingly annoyed and upse
t, she was none the less able to see that he was right, and realized that events could easily follow the course he predicted.

  ‘Ricciardo,’ she said. ‘I do not know how God can ever provide me with sufficient strength to bear the wicked deception you have practised upon me. I have no wish to raise a clamour in this place, to which I was led by my own simplicity and excessive jealousy. But you may rest assured that I shall never be happy until I see myself avenged in some way or other for the wrong you have done me. Now let me go, and get out of here! You have had what you wanted, you have tortured me to your heart’s content, and now you can go. For heaven’s sake, go!’

  On seeing that she was still far from mollified, Ricciardo, who was determined not to leave her until she had recovered her equanimity, set about the task of appeasing her with a stream of honeyed endearments. And he exhorted and cajoled and beseeched her to such good effect that she eventually succumbed and forgave him, after which, by mutual consent, they tarried together at some length to their inordinate delight.

  And so it was that from that day forward, the lady abandoned the stony attitude she had previously displayed to Ricciardo, and began to love him with all the tenderness in the world. And by proceeding with the greatest of discretion, they enjoyed their love together on many a later occasion. May God grant that we enjoy ours likewise.

  SEVENTH STORY

  Tedaldo, exasperated with his mistress, goes away from Florence. Returning after a long absence disguised as a pilgrim, he talks to the lady, induces her to acknowledge her error, and liberates her husband, who has been convicted of murdering Tedaldo and is about to be executed. He then effects a reconciliation between the husband and his own brothers; and thereafter he discreetly enjoys the company of his mistress.

 

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