THE FIFTH STORY
[Day the Second]
ANDREUCCIO OF PERUGIA, COMING TO NAPLES TO BUY HORSES, IS IN ONE NIGHT OVERTAKEN WITH THREE GRIEVOUS ACCIDENTS, BUT ESCAPETH THEM ALL AND RETURNETH HOME WITH A RUBY
"The stones found by Landolfo," began Fiammetta, to whose turn it cameto tell, "have brought to my mind a story scarce less full of perilousscapes than that related by Lauretta, but differing therefrom inasmuchas the adventures comprised in the latter befell in the course ofbelike several years and these of which I have to tell in the spaceof a single night, as you shall hear.
There was once in Perugia, as I have heard tell aforetime, a youngman, a horse-courser, by name Andreuccio di Pietro,[95] who, hearingthat horses were good cheap at Naples, put five hundred gold florinsin his purse and betook himself thither with other merchants, havingnever before been away from home. He arrived there one Sunday evening,towards vespers, and having taken counsel with his host, sallied forthnext morning to the market, where he saw great plenty of horses. Manyof them pleased him and he cheapened one and another, but could notcome to an accord concerning any. Meanwhile, to show that he was forbuying, he now and again, like a raw unwary clown as he was, pulledout the purse of florins he had with him, in the presence of those whocame and went. As he was thus engaged, with his purse displayed, itchanced that a Sicilian damsel, who was very handsome, but disposedfor a small matter to do any man's pleasure, passed near him, withouthis seeing her, and catching sight of the purse, said straightway inherself, 'Who would fare better than I, if yonder money were mine!'And passed on.
[Footnote 95: _i.e._ son of Pietro, as they still say in Lancashireand other northern provinces, "Tom o' Dick" for "Thomas, son ofRichard," etc.]
Now there was with her an old woman, likewise a Sicilian, who, seeingAndreuccio, let her companion pass on and running to him, embraced himaffectionately, which when the damsel saw, she stepped aside to waitfor her, without saying aught. Andreuccio, turning to the old womanand recognizing her, gave her a hearty greeting and she, havingpromised to visit him at his inn, took leave, without holding overlongparley there, whilst he fell again to chaffering, but bought nothingthat morning. The damsel, who had noted first Andreuccio's purse andafter her old woman's acquaintance with him, began cautiously toenquire of the latter, by way of casting about for a means of comingat the whole or part of the money, who and whence he was and what hedid there and how she came to know him. The old woman told her everyparticular of Andreuccio's affairs well nigh as fully as he himselfcould have done, having long abidden with his father, first in Sicilyand after at Perugia, and acquainted her, to boot, where he lodged andwherefore he was come thither.
The damsel, being thus fully informed both of his name and parentage,thereby with subtle craft laid her plans for giving effect to herdesire and returning home, set the old woman awork for the rest of theday, so she might not avail to return to Andreuccio. Then, calling amaid of hers, whom she had right well lessoned unto such offices, shedespatched her, towards evensong, to the inn where Andreuccio lodged.As chance would have it, she found him alone at the door and enquiredat him of himself. He answered that he was the man she sought,whereupon she drew him aside and said to him, 'Sir, an it please you,a gentlewoman of this city would fain speak with you.' Andreuccio,hearing this, considered himself from head to foot and himseeming hewas a handsome varlet of his person, he concluded (as if there wereno other well-looking young fellow to be found in Naples,) that thelady in question must have fallen in love with him. Accordingly, heanswered without further deliberation that he was ready and asked thegirl when and where the lady would speak with him; whereto sheanswered, 'Sir, whenas it pleaseth you to come, she awaiteth you inher house'; and Andreuccio forthwith rejoined, without saying aught tothe people of the inn, 'Go thou on before; I will come after thee.'
Thereupon the girl carried him to the house of her mistress, who dweltin a street called Malpertugio,[96] the very name whereof denoteth howreputable a quarter it is. But he, unknowing neither suspecting aughtthereof and thinking to go to most honourable place and to a lady ofquality, entered the house without hesitation,--preceded by theserving-maid, who called her mistress and said, 'Here isAndreuccio,'--and mounting the stair, saw the damsel come to thestairhead to receive him. Now she was yet in the prime of youth, tallof person, with a very fair face and very handsomely dressed andadorned. As he drew near her, she came down three steps to meet himwith open arms and clasping him round the neck, abode awhile withoutspeaking, as if hindered by excess of tenderness; then kissed him onthe forehead, weeping, and said, in a somewhat broken voice, 'O myAndreuccio, thou art indeed welcome.'
[Footnote 96: _i.e._ ill hole.]
He was amazed at such tender caresses and answered, all confounded,'Madam, you are well met.' Thereupon, taking him by the hand, shecarried him up into her saloon and thence, without saying another wordto him, she brought him into her chamber, which was all redolent ofroses and orange flowers and other perfumes. Here he saw a very finebed, hung round with curtains, and store of dresses upon the pegs andother very goodly and rich gear, after the usance of those parts; byreason whereof, like a freshman as he was, he firmly believed her tobe no less than a great lady. She made him sit with her on a chestthat stood at the foot of the bed and bespoke him thus, 'Andreuccio, Iam very certain thou marvellest at these caresses that I bestow onthee and at my tears, as he may well do who knoweth me not and hathmaybe never heard speak of me; but I have that to tell thee which islike to amaze thee yet more, namely, that I am thy sister; and I tellthee that, since God hath vouchsafed me to look upon one of mybrothers, (though fain would I see you all,) before my death,henceforth I shall not die disconsolate; and as perchance thou hasnever heard of this, I will tell it thee.
Pietro, my father and thine, as I doubt not thou knowest, abode longin Palermo and there for his good humour and pleasant composition wasand yet is greatly beloved of those who knew him; but, among all hislovers, my mother, who was a lady of gentle birth and then a widow,was she who most affected him, insomuch that, laying aside the fear ofher father and brethren, as well as the care of her own honour, shebecame so private with him that I was born thereof and grew up as thouseest me. Presently, having occasion to depart Palermo and return toPerugia, he left me a little maid with my mother nor ever after, forall that I could hear, remembered him of me or her; whereof, were henot my father, I should blame him sore, having regard to theingratitude shown by him to my mother (to say nothing of the love itbehoved him bear me, as his daughter, born of no serving-wench norwoman of mean extraction) who had, moved by very faithful love,without anywise knowing who he might be, committed into his hands herpossessions and herself no less. But what [skilleth it]? Things illdone and long time passed are easier blamed than mended; algates, soit was.
He left me a little child in Palermo, where being grown well nigh as Iam now, my mother, who was a rich lady, gave me to wife to a worthygentleman of Girgenti, who, for her love and mine, came to abide atPalermo and there, being a great Guelph,[97] he entered into treatywith our King Charles,[98] which, being discovered by KingFrederick,[99] ere effect could be given to it, was the occasion ofour being enforced to flee from Sicily, whenas I looked to be thegreatest lady was ever in the island; wherefore, taking such fewthings as we might (I say few, in respect of the many we had) andleaving our lands and palaces, we took refuge in this city, where wefound King Charles so mindful of our services that he hath in partmade good to us the losses we had sustained for him, bestowing on usboth lands and houses, and still maketh my husband, thy kinsman thatis, a goodly provision, as thou shalt hereafter see. On this wise comeI in this city, where, Godamercy and no thanks to thee, sweet mybrother, I now behold thee.' So saying, she embraced him over againand kissed him on the forehead, still weeping for tenderness.
[Footnote 97: _i.e._ a member of the Guelph party, as against theGhibellines or partisans of the Pope.]
[Footnote 98: Charles d'Anjou, afterwards King of Sici
ly.]
[Footnote 99: _i.e._ Frederick II. of Germany.]
Andreuccio, hearing this fable so orderly, so artfully delivered bythe damsel, without ever stammering or faltering for a word, andremembering it to be true that his father had been in Palermo,knowing, moreover, by himself the fashions of young men and howlightly they fall in love in their youth and seeing the affectionatetears and embraces and the chaste kisses that she lavished on him,held all she told him for more than true; wherefore, as soon as shewas silent, he answered her, saying, 'Madam, it should seem to you novery great matter if I marvel, for that in truth, whether it be thatmy father, for whatsoever reason, never spoke of your mother nor ofyourself, or that if he did, it came not to my notice, I had no moreknowledge of you than if you had never been, and so much the dearer isit to me to find you my sister here, as I am alone in this city andthe less expected this. Indeed, I know no man of so high a conditionthat you should not be dear to him, to say nothing of myself, who ambut a petty trader. But I pray you make me clear of one thing; howknew you that I was here?' Whereto she made answer, 'A poor woman, whomuch frequenteth me, gave me this morning to know of thy coming, forthat, as she telleth me, she abode long with our father both atPalermo and at Perugia; and but that meseemed it was a more reputablething that thou shouldst visit me in my own house than I thee in thatof another, I had come to thee this great while agone.' After this,she proceeded to enquire more particularly of all his kinsfolk byname, and he answered her of all, giving the more credence, by reasonof this, to that which it the less behoved him to believe.
The talk being long and the heat great, she called for Greek wine andconfections and let give Andreuccio to drink, after which he wouldhave taken leave, for that it was supper-time; but she would on nowise suffer it and making a show of being sore vexed, embraced him andsaid, 'Ah, woe is me! I see but too clearly how little dear I am tothee! Who would believe that thou couldst be with a sister of thine,whom thou hast never yet seen and in whose house thou shouldst havelighted down, whenas thou earnest hither, and offer to leave her, togo sup at the inn? Indeed, thou shalt sup with me, and albeit myhusband is abroad, which grieveth me mightily, I shall know well howto do thee some little honour, such as a woman may.' To whichAndreuccio, unknowing what else he should say, answered, 'I hold youas dear as a sister should be held; but, an I go not, I shall beexpected to supper all the evening and shall do an unmannerliness.''Praised be God!' cried she. 'One would think I had no one in thehouse to send to tell them not to expect thee; albeit thou wouldst domuch greater courtesy and indeed but thy duty an thou sentest to bidthy companions come hither to supper; and after, am thou must e'enbegone, you might all go away together.'
Andreuccio replied that he had no desire for his companions thatevening; but that, since it was agreeable to her, she might do herpleasure of him. Accordingly, she made a show of sending to the inn tosay that he was not to be expected to supper, and after much otherdiscourse, they sat down to supper and were sumptuously served withvarious meats, whilst she adroitly contrived to prolong the repasttill it was dark night. Then, when they rose from table and Andreucciowould have taken his leave, she declared that she would on no wisesuffer this, for that Naples was no place to go about in by nightespecially for a stranger, and that, whenas she sent to the inn to saythat he was not to be expected to supper, she had at the same timegiven notice that he would lie abroad. Andreuccio, believing this andtaking pleasure in being with her, beguiled as he was by falsecredence, abode where he was, and after supper they held much and longdiscourse, not without reason,[100] till a part of the night was past,when she withdrew with her women into another room, leaving Andreuccioin her own chamber, with a little lad to wait upon him, if he shouldlack aught.
[Footnote 100: The reason was that she wished to keep him in play tilllate into the night, when all the folk should be asleep and she mightthe lightlier deal with him.]
The heat being great, Andreuccio, as soon as he found himself alone,stripped to his doublet and putting off his hosen, laid them at thebedhead; after which, natural use soliciting him to rid himself of theovermuch burden of his stomach, he asked the boy where this might bedone, who showed him a door in one corner of the room and said, 'Go inthere.' Accordingly he opened the door and passing through in allassurance, chanced to set foot on a plank, which, being broken loosefrom the joist at the opposite end, [flew up] and down they went,plank and man together. God so favoured him that he did himself nohurt in the fall, albeit he fell from some height; but he was allbemired with the ordure whereof the place was full; and in order thatyou may the better apprehend both that which hath been said and thatwhich ensueth, I will show you how the place lay. There were in anarrow alley, such as we often see between two houses, a pair ofrafters laid from one house to another, and thereon sundry boardsnailed and the place of session set up; of which boards that whichgave way with Andreuccio was one.
Finding himself, then, at the bottom of the alley and sore chagrinedat the mishap, he fell a-bawling for the boy; but the latter, as soonas he heard him fall, had run to tell his mistress, who hastened tohis chamber and searching hurriedly if his clothes were there, foundthem and with them the money, which, in his mistrust, he stillfoolishly carried about him. Having now gotten that for which,feigning herself of Palermo and sister to a Perugian, she had set hersnare, she took no more reck of him, but hastened to shut the doorwhereby he had gone out when he fell.
Andreuccio, getting no answer from the boy, proceeded to callloudlier, but to no purpose; whereupon, his suspicions being nowaroused, he began too late to smoke the cheat. Accordingly, hescrambled over a low wall that shut off the alley from the street, andletting himself down into the road, went up to the door of the house,which he knew very well, and there called long and loud and shook andbeat upon it amain, but all in vain. Wherefore, bewailing himself, asone who was now fully aware of his mischance, 'Ah, woe is me!' criedhe. 'In how little time have I lost five hundred florins and asister!' Then, after many other words, he fell again to battering thedoor and crying out and this he did so long and so lustily that manyof the neighbours, being awakened and unable to brook the annoy, aroseand one of the courtezan's waiting-women, coming to the window,apparently all sleepy-eyed, said peevishly, 'Who knocketh belowthere?'
'What?' cried Andreuccio. 'Dost thou not know me? I am Andreuccio,brother to Madam Fiordaliso.' Whereto quoth she, 'Good man, an thouhave drunken overmuch, go sleep and come back to-morrow morning. Iknow no Andreuccio nor what be these idle tales thou tellest. Begonein peace and let us sleep, so it please thee.' 'How?' repliedAndreuccio. 'Thou knowest not what I mean? Certes, thou knowest; but,if Sicilian kinships be of such a fashion that they are forgotten inso short a time, at least give me back my clothes and I will begonewith all my heart.' 'Good man,' rejoined she, as if laughing,'methinketh thou dreamest'; and to say this and to draw in her headand shut the window were one and the same thing. Whereat Andreuccio,now fully certified of his loss, was like for chagrin to turn hisexceeding anger into madness and bethought himself to seek to recoverby violence that which he might not have again with words; wherefore,taking up a great stone, he began anew to batter the door morefuriously than ever.
At this many of the neighbours, who had already been awakened and hadarisen, deeming him some pestilent fellow who had trumped up thisstory to spite the woman of the house and provoked at the knocking hekept up, came to the windows and began to say, no otherwise than asall the dogs of a quarter bark after a strange dog, ''Tis a villainousshame to come at this hour to decent women's houses and tell thesecock-and-bull stories. For God's sake, good man, please you begone inpeace and let us sleep. An thou have aught to mell with her, come backto-morrow and spare us this annoy to-night.' Taking assurance,perchance, by these words, there came to the window one who was withinthe house, a bully of the gentlewoman's, whom Andreuccio had as yetneither heard nor seen, and said, in a terrible big rough voice, 'Whois below there?'
Andreuccio, hearing this, raised his eyes and saw at
the window onewho, by what little he could make out, himseemed should be a verymasterful fellow, with a bushy black beard on his face, and who yawnedand rubbed his eyes, as he had arisen from bed or deep sleep;whereupon, not without fear, he answered, 'I am a brother of the ladyof the house.' The other waited not for him to make an end of hisreply, but said, more fiercely than before, 'I know not what hinderethme from coming down and cudgelling thee what while I see thee stir,for a pestilent drunken ass as thou must be, who will not let us sleepthis night.' Then, drawing back into the house, he shut the window;whereupon certain of the neighbours, who were better acquainted withthe fellow's quality, said softly to Andreuccio, 'For God's sake, goodman, begone in peace and abide not there to-night to be slain; getthee gone for thine own good.'
Andreuccio, terrified at the fellow's voice and aspect and moved bythe exhortations of the neighbours, who seemed to him to speak out ofcharity, set out to return to his inn, in the direction of the quarterwhence he had followed the maid, without knowing whither to go,despairing of his money and woebegone as ever man was. Being loathsometo himself, for the stench that came from him, and thinking to repairto the sea to wash himself, he turned to the left and followed astreet called Ruga Catalana,[101] that led towards the upper part ofthe city. Presently, he espied two men coming towards him with alantern and fearing they might be officers of the watch or otherill-disposed folk, he stealthily took refuge, to avoid them, in ahovel, that he saw hard by. But they, as of malice aforethought, madestraight for the same place and entering in, began to examine certainirons which one of them laid from off his shoulder, discoursingvarious things thereof the while.
[Footnote 101: _i.e._ Catalan Street.]
Presently, 'What meaneth this?' quoth one. 'I smell the worst stenchmeseemeth I ever smelt.' So saying, he raised the lantern and seeingthe wretched Andreuccio, enquired, in amazement. 'Who is there?'Andreuccio made no answer, but they came up to him with the light andasked him what he did there in such a pickle; whereupon he related tothem all that had befallen him, and they, conceiving where this mighthave happened, said, one to the other, 'Verily, this must have beenin the house of Scarabone Buttafuocco.' Then, turning to him, 'Goodman,' quoth one, 'albeit thou hast lost thy money, thou hast muchreason to praise God that this mischance betided thee, so that thoufellest nor couldst after avail to enter the house again; for, hadstthou not fallen, thou mayst be assured that, when once thou wastfallen asleep, thou hadst been knocked on the head and hadst lost thylife as well as thy money. But what booteth it now to repine? Thoumayst as well look to have the stars out of the sky as to recover afarthing of thy money; nay, thou art like to be murdered, shouldyonder fellow hear that thou makest any words thereof.' Then theyconsulted together awhile and presently said to him, 'Look you, we aremoved to pity for thee; wherefore, an thou wilt join with us insomewhat we go about to do, it seemeth to us certain that there willfall to thee for thy share much more than the value of that which thouhast lost.' Whereupon Andreuccio, in his desperation, answered that hewas ready.
Now there had been that day buried an archbishop of Naples, by nameMesser Filippo Minutolo, and he had been interred in his richestornaments and with a ruby on his finger worth more than five hundredflorins of gold. Him they were minded to despoil and this their intentthey discovered to Andreuccio, who, more covetous than well-advised,set out with them for the cathedral. As they went, Andreuccio stillstinking amain, one of the thieves said, 'Can we not find means forthis fellow to wash himself a little, be it where it may, so he maynot stink so terribly?' 'Ay can we,' answered the other. 'We are herenear a well, where there useth to be a rope and pulley and a greatbucket; let us go thither and we will wash him in a trice.'Accordingly they made for the well in question and found the ropethere, but the bucket had been taken away; wherefore they took counseltogether to tie him to the rope and let him down into the well, so hemight wash himself there, charging him shake the rope as soon as hewas clean, and they would pull him up.
Hardly had they let him down when, as chance would have it, certain ofthe watch, being athirst for the heat and with running after somerogue or another, came to the well to drink, and the two rogues,setting eyes on them, made off incontinent, before the officers sawthem. Presently, Andreuccio, having washed himself at the bottom ofthe well, shook the rope, and the thirsty officers, laying by theirtargets and arms and surcoats, began to haul upon the rope, thinkingthe bucket full of water at the other end. As soon as Andreuccio foundhimself near the top, he let go the rope and laid hold of the margewith both hands; which when the officers saw, overcome with suddenaffright, they dropped the rope, without saying a word, and took totheir heels as quickliest they might. At this Andreuccio marvelledsore, and but that he had fast hold of the marge, would have fallen tothe bottom, to his no little hurt or maybe death. However, he made hisway out and finding the arms, which he knew were none of hiscompanions' bringing, he was yet more amazed; but, knowing not what tomake of it and misdoubting [some snare], he determined to begonewithout touching aught and accordingly made off he knew not whither,bewailing his ill-luck.
As he went, he met his two comrades, who came to draw him forth of thewell; and when they saw him, they marvelled exceedingly and asked himwho had drawn him up. Andreuccio replied that he knew not and toldthem orderly how it had happened and what he had found by thewellside, whereupon the others, perceiving how the case stood, toldhim, laughing, why they had fled and who these were that had pulledhim up. Then, without farther parley, it being now middle night, theyrepaired to the cathedral and making their way thereinto lightlyenough, went straight to the archbishop's tomb, which was of marbleand very large. With their irons they raised the lid, which was veryheavy, and propped it up so as a man might enter; which being done,quoth one, 'Who shall go in?' 'Not I,' answered the other. 'Nor I,'rejoined his fellow; 'let Andreuccio enter.' 'That will I not,' saidthe latter; whereupon the two rogues turned upon him and said, 'How!Thou wilt not? Cock's faith, an thou enter not, we will clout theeover the costard with one of these iron bars till thou fall dead.'
Andreuccio, affrighted, crept into the tomb, saying in himself thewhile, 'These fellows will have me go in here so they may cheat me,for that, when I shall have given them everything, they will begoneabout their business, whilst I am labouring to win out of the tomb,and I shall abide empty-handed.' Accordingly, he determined to makesure of his share beforehand; wherefore, as soon as he came to thebottom, calling to mind the precious ring whereof he had heard themspeak, he drew it from the archbishop's finger and set it on his own.Then he passed them the crozier and mitre and gloves and stripping thedead man to his shirt, gave them everything, saying that there wasnothing more. The others declared that the ring must be there and badehim seek everywhere; but he replied that he found it not and making ashow of seeking it, kept them in play awhile. At last, the two rogues,who were no less wily than himself, bidding him seek well the while,took occasion to pull away the prop that held up the lid and made off,leaving him shut in the tomb.
What became of Andreuccio, when he found himself in this plight, youmay all imagine for yourselves. He strove again and again to heave upthe lid with his head and shoulders, but only wearied himself in vain;wherefore, overcome with chagrin and despair, he fell down in a swoonupon the archbishop's dead body; and whoso saw him there had hardlyknown which was the deader, the prelate or he. Presently, coming tohimself, he fell into a passion of weeping, seeing he must therewithout fail come to one of two ends, to wit, either he must, if nonecame thither to open the tomb again, die of hunger and stench, amongthe worms of the dead body, or, if any came and found him there, hewould certainly be hanged for a thief.
As he abode in this mind, exceeding woebegone, he heard folk stirringin the Church and many persons speaking and presently perceived thatthey came to do that which he and his comrades had already done;whereat fear redoubled upon him. But, after the newcomers had forcedopen the tomb and propped up the lid, they fell into dispute of whoshould go in, and none was willing
to do it. However, after longparley, a priest said, 'What fear ye? Think you he will eat you? Thedead eat not men. I will go in myself.' So saying, he set his breastto the marge of the tomb and turning his head outward, put in hislegs, thinking to let himself drop. Andreuccio, seeing this, startedup and catching the priest by one of his legs, made a show of offeringto pull him down into the tomb. The other, feeling this, gave aterrible screech and flung precipitately out of the tomb; whereuponall the others fled in terror, as they were pursued by an hundredthousand devils, leaving the tomb open.
Andreuccio, seeing this, scrambled hastily out of the tomb, rejoicedbeyond all hope, and made off out of the church by the way he hadentered in. The day now drawing near, he fared on at a venture, withthe ring on his finger, till he came to the sea-shore and thence madehis way back to his inn, where he found his comrades and the host, whohad been in concern for him all that night. He told them what hadbetided him and themseemed, by the host's counsel, that he were bestdepart Naples incontinent. Accordingly, he set out forthright andreturned to Perugia, having invested his money in a ring, whereas hecame to buy horses."
The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio Page 19