THE FIRST STORY
[Day the Third]
MASETTO OF LAMPORECCHIO FEIGNETH HIMSELF DUMB AND BECOMETH GARDENER TO A CONVENT OF WOMEN, WHO ALL FLOCK TO LIE WITH HIM
"Fairest ladies, there be many men and women foolish enough to believethat, whenas the white fillet is bound about a girl's head and theblack cowl clapped upon her back, she is no longer a woman and is nolonger sensible of feminine appetites, as if the making her a nun hadchanged her to stone; and if perchance they hear aught contrary tothis their belief, they are as much incensed as if a very great andheinous misdeed had been committed against nature, considering notneither having regard to themselves, whom full license to do thatwhich they will availeth not to sate, nor yet to the much potency ofidlesse and thought-taking.[151] On like wise there are but too manywho believe that spade and mattock and coarse victuals and hard livingdo altogether purge away carnal appetites from the tillers of theearth and render them exceeding dull of wit and judgment. But how muchall who believe thus are deluded, I purpose, since the queen hathcommanded it to me, to make plain to you in a little story, withoutdeparting from the theme by her appointed.
[Footnote 151: _Sollecitudine._ The commentators will have it thatthis is an error for _solitudine_, solitude, but I see no necessityfor the substitution, the text being perfectly acceptable as itstands.]
There was (and is yet) in these our parts a convent of women, veryfamous for sanctity (the which, that I may not anywise abate itsrepute, I will not name), wherein no great while agone, there beingthen no more than eight nuns and an abbess, all young, in the nunnery,a poor silly dolt of a fellow was gardener of a very goodly garden oftheirs, who, being miscontent with his wage, settled his accounts withthe ladies' bailiff and returned to Lamporecchio, whence he came.There, amongst others who welcomed him home, was a young labouringman, stout and robust and (for a countryman) a well-favoured fellow,by name of Masetto, who asked him where he had been so long. The goodman, whose name was Nuto, told him, whereupon Masetto asked him inwhat he had served the convent, and he, 'I tended a great and goodlygarden of theirs, and moreover I went while to the coppice for faggotsand drew water and did other such small matters of service; but thenuns gave me so little wage that I could scare find me in shoonwithal. Besides, they are all young and methinketh they are possessedof the devil, for there was no doing anything to their liking; nay,when I was at work whiles in the hortyard,[152] quoth one, "Set thishere," and another, "Set that here," and a third snatched the spadefrom my hand, saying, "That is naught"; brief, they gave me so muchvexation that I would leave work be and begone out of the hortyard;insomuch that, what with one thing and what with another, I wouldabide there no longer and took myself off. When I came away, theirbailiff besought me, an I could lay my hand on any one apt unto thatservice, to send the man to him, and I promised it him; but may Godmake him sound of the loins as he whom I shall get him, else will Isend him none at all!' Masetto, hearing this, was taken with so greata desire to be with these nuns that he was all consumed therewith,judging from Nuto's words that he might avail to compass somewhat ofthat which he desired. However, foreseeing that he would fail of hispurpose, if he discovered aught thereof to Nuto, he said to thelatter, 'Egad, thou didst well to come away. How is a man to live withwomen? He were better abide with devils. Six times out of seven theyknow not what they would have themselves.' But, after they had made anend of their talk, Masetto began to cast about what means he shouldtake to be with them and feeling himself well able to do the officesof which Nuto had spoken, he had no fear of being refused on thathead, but misdoubted him he might not be received, for that he wasyoung and well-looked. Wherefore, after pondering many things inhimself, he bethought himself thus: 'The place is far hence and noneknoweth me there, an I can but make a show of being dumb, I shall forcertain be received there.' Having fixed upon this device, he set outwith an axe he had about his neck, without telling any whither he wasbound, and betook himself, in the guise of a beggarman, to theconvent, where being come, he entered in and as luck would have it,found the bailiff in the courtyard. Him he accosted with signs such asdumb folk use and made a show of asking food of him for the love ofGod and that in return he would, an it were needed, cleave wood forhim. The bailiff willingly gave him to eat and after set before himdivers logs that Nuto had not availed to cleave, but of all whichMasetto, who was very strong, made a speedy despatch. By and by, thebailiff, having occasion to go to the coppice, carried him thither andput him to cutting faggots; after which, setting the ass before him,he gave him to understand by signs that he was to bring them home.This he did very well; wherefore the bailiff kept him there some days,so he might have him do certain things for which he had occasion. Oneday it chanced that the abbess saw him and asked the bailiff who hewas. 'Madam,' answered he, 'this is a poor deaf and dumb man, who camehither the other day to ask an alms; so I took him in out of charityand have made him do sundry things of which we had need. If he knewhow to till the hortyard and chose to abide with us, I believe weshould get good service of him; for that we lack such an one and he isstrong and we could make what we would of him; more by token that youwould have no occasion to fear his playing the fool with yonder lassesof yours.' 'I' faith,' rejoined the abbess, 'thou sayst sooth. Learnif he knoweth how to till and study to keep him here; give him a pairof shoes and some old hood or other and make much of him, caress him,give him plenty to eat.' Which the bailiff promised to do. Masetto wasnot so far distant but he heard all this, making a show the while ofsweeping the courtyard, and said merrily in himself, 'An you put metherein, I will till you your hortyard as it was never tilled yet.'Accordingly, the bailiff, seeing that he knew right well how to work,asked him by signs if he had a mind to abide there and he replied onlike wise that he would do whatsoever he wished; whereupon the bailiffengaged him and charged him till the hortyard, showing him what he wasto do; after which he went about other business of the convent andleft him. Presently, as Masetto went working one day after another,the nuns fell to plaguing him and making mock of him, as ofttimes itbetideth that folk do with mutes, and bespoke him the naughtiest wordsin the world, thinking he understood them not; whereof the abbess,mayhap supposing him to be tailless as well as tongueless, reckedlittle or nothing. It chanced one day, however, that, as he restedhimself after a hard morning's work, two young nuns, who went aboutthe garden,[153] drew near the place where he lay and fell to lookingupon him, whilst he made a show of sleeping. Presently quoth one whowas somewhat the bolder of the twain to the other, 'If I thought thouwouldst keep my counsel, I would tell thee a thought which I have onceand again had and which might perchance profit thee also.' 'Speak inall assurance,' answered the other, 'for certes I will never tell itto any.' Then said the forward wench, 'I know not if thou have everconsidered how straitly we are kept and how no man dare ever enterhere, save the bailiff, who is old, and yonder dumb fellow; and I haveagain and again heard ladies, who come to visit us, say that all otherdelights in the world are but toys in comparison with that which awoman enjoyeth, whenas she hath to do with a man. Wherefore I haveoften had it in mind to make trial with this mute, since with others Imay not, if it be so. And indeed he is the best in the world to thatend, for that, e'en if he would, he could not nor might tell itagain. Thou seest he is a poor silly lout of a lad, who hath overgrownhis wit, and I would fain hear how thou deemest of the thing.''Alack!' rejoined the other, 'what is this thou sayest? Knowest thounot that we have promised our virginity to God?' 'Oh, as for that,'answered the first, 'how many things are promised Him all day long,whereof not one is fulfilled unto Him! An we have promised it Him, letHim find Himself another or others to perform it to Him.' 'Or if,'went on her fellow, 'we should prove with child, how would it gothen?' Quoth the other, 'Thou beginnest to take thought unto ill ereit cometh; when that betideth, then will we look to it; there will bea thousand ways for us of doing so that it shall never be known,provided we ourselves tell it not.' The other, hearing this and havingnow a greater itch than her compa
nion to prove what manner beast a manwas, said, 'Well, then, how shall we do?' Quoth the first, 'Thou seestit is nigh upon none and methinketh the sisters are all asleep, saveonly ourselves; let us look about the hortyard if there be any there,and if there be none, what have we to do but to take him by the handand carry him into yonder hut, whereas he harboureth against the rain,and there let one of us abide with him, whilst the other keepethwatch? He is so simple that he will do whatever we will.' Masettoheard all this talk and disposed to compliance, waited but to be takenby one of the nuns. The latter having looked well all about andsatisfied themselves that they could be seen from nowhere, she who hadbroached the matter came up to Masetto and aroused him, whereupon herose incontinent to his feet. The nun took him coaxingly by the handand led him, grinning like an idiot, to the hut, where, withoutovermuch pressing, he did what she would. Then, like a loyal comrade,having had her will, she gave place to her fellow, and Masetto, stillfeigning himself a simpleton, did their pleasure. Before they departedthence, each of the girls must needs once more prove how the mutecould horse it, and after devising with each other, they agreed thatthe thing was as delectable as they had heard, nay, more so.Accordingly, watching their opportunity, they went oftentimes atfitting seasons to divert themselves with the mute, till one day itchanced that one of their sisters, espying them in the act from thelattice of her cell, showed it to other twain. At first they talked ofdenouncing the culprits to the abbess, but, after, changing counseland coming to an accord with the first two, they became sharers withthem in Masetto's services, and to them the other three nuns were atdivers times and by divers chances added as associates. Ultimately,the abbess, who had not yet gotten wind of these doings, walking oneday alone in the garden, the heat being great, found Masetto (who hadenough of a little fatigue by day, because of overmuch posting it bynight) stretched out asleep under the shade of an almond-tree, and thewind lifting the forepart of his clothes, all abode discovered. Thelady, beholding this and seeing herself alone, fell into that sameappetite which had gotten hold of her nuns, and arousing Masetto,carried him to her chamber, where, to the no small miscontent of theothers, who complained loudly that the gardener came not to till thehortyard, she kept him several days, proving and reproving thatdelight which she had erst been wont to blame in others. At last shesent him back to his own lodging, but was fain to have him often againand as, moreover, she required of him more than her share, Masetto,unable to satisfy so many, bethought himself that his playing the mutemight, an it endured longer, result in his exceeding great hurt.Wherefore, being one night with the abbess, he gave loose to[154] histongue and bespoke her thus: 'Madam, I have heard say that one cocksufficeth unto half a score hens, but that half a score men can ill orhardly satisfy one woman; whereas needs must I serve nine, and to thisI can no wise endure; nay, for that which I have done up to now, I amcome to such a pass that I can do neither little nor much; whereforedo ye either let me go in God's name or find a remedy for the matter.'The abbess, hearing him speak whom she held dumb, was all amazed andsaid, 'What is this? Methought thou wast dumb.' 'Madam,' answeredMasetto, 'I was indeed dumb, not by nature, but by reason of a maladywhich bereft me of speech, and only this very night for the first timedo I feel it restored to me, wherefore I praise God as most I may.'The lady believed this and asked him what he meant by saying that hehad to serve nine. Masetto told her how the case stood, whereby sheperceived that she had no nun but was far wiser than herself; but,like a discreet woman as she was, she resolved to take counsel withher nuns to find some means of arranging the matter, without lettingMasetto go, so the convent might not be defamed by him. Accordingly,having openly confessed to one another that which had been secretlydone of each, they all of one accord, with Masetto's consent, soordered it that the people round about believed speech to have beenrestored to him, after he had long been mute, through their prayersand by the merits of the saint in whose name the convent wasintituled, and their bailiff being lately dead, they made Masettobailiff in his stead and apportioned his toils on such wise that hecould endure them. Thereafter, albeit he began upon them monikinsgalore, the thing was so discreetly ordered that nothing took ventthereof till after the death of the abbess, when Masetto began to growold and had a mind to return home rich. The thing becoming known,enabled him lightly to accomplish his desire, and thus Masetto, havingby his foresight contrived to employ his youth to good purpose,returned in his old age, rich and a father, without being at the painsor expense of rearing children, to the place whence he had set outwith an axe about his neck, avouching that thus did Christ entreatwhoso set horns to his cap."
[Footnote 152: Hortyard (_orto_) is the old form of orchard, properlyan enclosed tract of land in which fruit, vegetables and potherbs arecultivated for use, _i.e._ the modern kitchen garden and orchard inone, as distinguished from the pleasaunce or flower garden(_giardino_).]
[Footnote 153: _Giardino_, _i.e._ flower-garden.]
[Footnote 154: Lit. broke the string of.]
The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio Page 26