THE FIRST STORY
[Day the Fifth]
CIMON, LOVING, WAXETH WISE AND CARRIETH OFF TO SEA IPHIGENIA HIS MISTRESS. BEING CAST INTO PRISON AT RHODES, HE IS DELIVERED THENCE BY LYSIMACHUS AND IN CONCERT WITH HIM CARRIETH OFF IPHIGENIA AND CASSANDRA ON THEIR WEDDING-DAY, WITH WHOM THE TWAIN FLEE INTO CRETE, WHERE THE TWO LADIES BECOME THEIR WIVES AND WHENCE THEY ARE PRESENTLY ALL FOUR RECALLED HOME
"Many stories, delightsome ladies, apt to give beginning to so glad aday as this will be, offer themselves unto me to be related; whereofone is the most pleasing to my mind, for that thereby, beside thehappy issue which is to mark this day's discourses, you may understandhow holy, how puissant and how full of all good is the power of Love,which many, unknowing what they say, condemn and vilify with greatunright; and this, an I err not, must needs be exceeding pleasing toyou, for that I believe you all to be in love.
There was, then, in the island of Cyprus, (as we have read aforetimein the ancient histories of the Cypriots,) a very noble gentleman, byname Aristippus, who was rich beyond any other of the country in alltemporal things and might have held himself the happiest man alive,had not fortune made him woeful in one only thing, to wit, thatamongst his other children he had a son who overpassed all the otheryouths of his age in stature and goodliness of body, but was ahopeless dullard and well nigh an idiot. His true name was Galesus,but for that neither by toil of teacher nor blandishment nor beatingof his father nor study nor endeavour of whatsoever other had it beenfound possible to put into his head any inkling of letters or goodbreeding and that he had a rough voice and an uncouth and manners morebefitting a beast than a man, he was of well nigh all by way ofmockery called Cimon, which in their tongue signified as much as brutebeast in ours. His father brooked his wastrel life with the mostgrievous concern and having presently given over all hope of him, hebade him begone to his country house[263] and there abide with hishusbandmen, so he might not still have before him the cause of hischagrin; the which was very agreeable to Cimon, for that the mannersand usages of clowns and churls were much more to his liking thanthose of the townsfolk.
[Footnote 263: Or farm (_villa_).]
Cimon, then, betaking himself to the country and there employinghimself in the things that pertained thereto, it chanced one day,awhile after noon, as he passed from one farm to another, with hisstaff on his shoulder, that he entered a very fair coppice which wasin those parts and which was then all in leaf, for that it was themonth of May. Passing therethrough, he happened (even as his fortuneguided him thither) upon a little mead compassed about with very hightrees, in one corner whereof was a very clear and cool spring, besidewhich he saw a very fair damsel asleep upon the green grass, with sothin a garment upon her body that it hid well nigh nothing of hersnowy flesh. She was covered only from the waist down with a verywhite and light coverlet; and at her feet slept on like wise two womenand a man, her servants. When Cimon espied the young lady, he haltedand leaning upon his staff, fell, without saying a word, to gazingmost intently upon her with the utmost admiration, no otherwise thanas he had never yet seen a woman's form, whilst in his rude breast,wherein for a thousand lessonings no least impression of civilpleasance had availed to penetrate, he felt a thought awaken whichintimated to his gross and material spirit that this maiden was thefairest thing that had been ever seen of any living soul. Thence heproceeded to consider her various parts,--commending her hair, whichhe accounted of gold, her brow, her nose, her mouth, her throat andher arms, and above all her breast, as yet but little upraised,--andgrown of a sudden from a churl a judge of beauty, he ardently desiredin himself to see the eyes, which, weighed down with deep sleep, shekept closed. To this end, he had it several times in mind to awakenher; but, for that she seemed to him beyond measure fairer than theother women aforetime seen of him, he misdoubted him she must be somegoddess. Now he had wit enough to account things divine worthy of morereverence than those mundane; wherefore he forbore, waiting for her toawake of herself; and albeit the delay seemed overlong to him, yet,taken as he was with an unwonted pleasure, he knew not how to tearhimself away.
It befell, then, that, after a long while, the damsel, whose name wasIphigenia, came to herself, before any of her people, and opening hereyes, saw Cimon (who, what for his fashion and uncouthness and hisfather's wealth and nobility, was known in a manner to every one inthe country) standing before her, leant on his staff, marvelledexceedingly and said, 'Cimon, what goest thou seeking in this wood atthis hour?' He made her no answer, but, seeing her eyes open, began tolook steadfastly upon them, himseeming there proceeded thence asweetness which fulfilled him with a pleasure such as he had neverbefore felt. The young lady, seeing this, began to misdoubt her lesthis so fixed looking upon her should move his rusticity to somewhatthat might turn to her shame; wherefore, calling her women, she roseup, saying, 'Cimon, abide with God.' To which he replied, 'I willbegone with thee'; and albeit the young lady, who was still in fear ofhim, would have declined his company, she could not win to rid herselfof him till he had accompanied her to her own house.
Thence he repaired to his father's house [in the city,] and declaredto him that he would on no wise consent to return to the country; thewhich was irksome enough to Aristippus and his kinsfolk; neverthelessthey let him be, awaiting to see what might be the cause of his changeof mind. Love's arrow having, then, through Iphigenia's beauty,penetrated into Cimon's heart, whereinto no teaching had ever availedto win an entrance, in a very brief time, proceeding from one idea toanother, he made his father marvel and all his kinsfolk and everyother that knew him. In the first place he besought his father that hewould cause him go bedecked with clothes and every other thing, evenas his brothers, the which Aristippus right gladly did. Then,consorting with young men of condition and learning the fashions andcarriage that behoved unto gentlemen and especially unto lovers, hefirst, to the utmost wonderment of every one, in a very brief space oftime, not only learned the first [elements of] letters, but becamevery eminent among the students of philosophy, and after (the lovewhich he bore Iphigenia being the cause of all this) he not onlyreduced his rude and rustical manner of speech to seemliness andcivility, but became a past master of song and sound[264] andexceeding expert and doughty in riding and martial exercises, both byland and by sea. In short, not to go recounting every particular ofhis merits, the fourth year was not accomplished from the day of hisfirst falling in love, ere he was grown the sprightliest and mostaccomplished gentleman of all the young men in the island of Cyprus,ay, and the best endowed with every particular excellence. What, then,charming ladies, shall we say of Cimon? Certes, none other thing thanthat the lofty virtues implanted by heaven in his generous soul hadbeen bounden with exceeding strong bonds of jealous fortune and shutin some straitest corner of his heart, all which bonds Love, as amightier than fortune, broke and burst in sunder and in its quality ofawakener and quickener of drowsed and sluggish wits, urged forth intobroad daylight the virtues aforesaid, which had till then beenoverdarkened with a barbarous obscurity, thus manifestly discoveringfrom how mean a room it can avail to uplift those souls that aresubject unto it and to what an eminence it can conduct them with itsbeams.
[Footnote 264: _i.e._ of music, vocal and instrumental.]
Although Cimon, loving Iphigenia as he did, might exceed in certainthings, as young men in love very often do, nevertheless Aristippus,considering that Love had turned him from a dunce into a man, not onlypatiently bore with the extravagances into which it might whiles leadhim, but encouraged him to ensue its every pleasure. But Cimon, (whorefused to be called Galesus, remembering that Iphigenia had calledhim by the former name,) seeking to put an honourable term to hisdesire, once and again caused essay Cipseus, Iphigenia's father, so heshould give him his daughter to wife; but Cipseus still answered thathe had promised her to Pasimondas, a young nobleman of Rhodes, to whomhe had no mind to fail of his word. The time coming the covenantednuptials of Iphigenia and the bridegroom having sent for her, Cimonsai
d to himself, 'Now, O Iphigenia, is the time to prove how much thouare beloved of me. By thee am I become a man and so I may but havethee, I doubt not to become more glorious than any god; and forcertain I will or have thee or die.'
Accordingly, having secretly recruited certain young noblemen who werehis friends and let privily equip a ship with everything apt for navalbattle, he put out to sea and awaited the vessel wherein Iphigenia wasto be transported to her husband in Rhodes. The bride, after muchhonour done of her father to the bridegroom's friends, took ship withthe latter, who turned their prow towards Rhodes and departed. On thefollowing day, Cimon, who slept not, came out upon them with his shipand cried out, in a loud voice, from the prow, to those who were onboard Iphigenia's vessel, saying, 'Stay, strike your sails or look tobe beaten and sunken in the sea.' Cimon's adversaries had gotten uptheir arms on deck and made ready to defend themselves; whereupon he,after speaking the words aforesaid, took a grappling-iron and castingit upon the poop of the Rhodians, who were making off at the top oftheir speed, made it fast by main force to the prow of his own ship.Then, bold as a lion, he leapt on board their ship, without waitingfor any to follow him, as if he held them all for nought, and Lovespurring him, he fell upon his enemies with marvellous might, cutlassin hand, striking now this one and now that and hewing them down likesheep.
The Rhodians, seeing this, cast down their arms and all as with onevoice confessed themselves prisoners; whereupon quoth Cimon to them,'Young men, it was neither lust of rapine nor hate that I had againstyou made me depart Cyprus to assail you, arms in hand, in mid sea.That which moved me thereunto was the desire of a thing which to havegotten is a very grave matter to me and to you a very light one toyield me in peace; it is, to wit, Iphigenia, whom I loved over allelse and whom, availing not to have of her father on friendly andpeaceful wise, Love hath constrained me to win from you as an enemyand by force of arms. Wherefor I mean to be to her that which yourfriend Pasimondas should have been. Give her to me, then, and begoneand God's grace go with you.'
The Rhodians, more by force constrained than of freewill, surrenderedIphigenia, weeping, to Cimon, who, seeing her in tears, said to her,'Noble Lady, be not disconsolate; I am thy Cimon, who by long lovehave far better deserved to have thee than Pasimondas by plightedfaith.' Thereupon he caused carry her aboard his own ship andreturning to his companions, let the Rhodians go, without touchingaught else of theirs. Then, glad beyond any man alive to have gottenso dear a prey, after devoting some time to comforting the weepinglady, he took counsel with his comrades not to return to Cyprus atthat present; wherefore, of one accord, they turned the ship's headtowards Crete, where well nigh every one, and especially Cimon, hadkinsfolk, old and new, and friends in plenty and where they doubtednot to be in safety with Iphigenia. But fortune the unstable, whichhad cheerfully enough vouchsafed unto Cimon the acquisition of thelady, suddenly changed the inexpressible joyance of the enamouredyouth into sad and bitter mourning; for it was not four full toldhours since he had left the Rhodians when the night (which Cimonlooked to be more delightsome than any he had ever known) came on andwith it a very troublous and tempestuous shift of weather, whichfilled all the sky with clouds and the sea with ravening winds, byreason whereof none could see what to do or whither to steer, norcould any even keep the deck to do any office.
How sore concerned was Cimon for this it needeth not to ask; himseemedthe gods had vouchsafed him his desire but to make death the moregrievous to him, whereof, without that, he had before recked little.His comrades lamented on like wise, but Iphigenia bewailed herselfover all, weeping sore and fearing every stroke of the waves; and inher chagrin she bitterly cursed Cimon's love and blamed hispresumption, avouching that the tempest had arisen for none otherthing but that the gods chose not that he, who would fain againsttheir will have her to wife, should avail to enjoy his presumptuousdesire, but, seeing her first die, should after himself perishmiserably.
Amidst such lamentations and others yet more grievous, the wind waxinghourly fiercer and the seamen knowing not what to do, they came,without witting whither they went or availing to change their course,near to the island of Rhodes, and unknowing that it was Rhodes, theyused their every endeavour to get to land thereon, an it werepossible, for the saving of their lives. In this fortune wasfavourable to them and brought them into a little bight of the sea,where the Rhodians whom Cimon had let go had a little before arrivedwith their ship; nor did they perceive that they had struck the islandof Rhodes till the dawn broke and made the sky somewhat clearer, whenthey found themselves maybe a bowshot distant from the ship left ofthem the day before. At this Cimon was beyond measure chagrined andfearing lest that should betide them which did in very deed ensue,bade use every endeavour to issue thence and let fortune after carrythem whither it should please her, for that they could be nowhere inworse case than there. Accordingly, they made the utmost efforts toput to sea, but in vain; for the wind blew so mightily against themthat not only could they not avail to issue from the little harbour,but whether they would or no, it drove them ashore.
No sooner were they come thither than they were recognized by theRhodian sailors, who had landed from their ship, and one of them rannimbly to a village hard by, whither the young Rhodian gentlemen hadbetaken themselves, and told the latter that, as luck would haveit,[265] Cimon and Iphigenia were come thither aboard their ship,driven, like themselves, by stress of weather. They, hearing this,were greatly rejoiced and repairing in all haste to the sea-shore,with a number of the villagers, took Cimon, together with Iphigeniaand all his company, who had now landed and taken counsel together toflee into some neighbouring wood, and carried them to the village. Thenews coming to Pasimondas, he made his complaint to the senate of theisland and according as he had ordered it with them, Lysimachus, inwhom the chief magistracy of the Rhodians was for that year vested,coming thither from the city with a great company of men-at-arms,haled Cimon and all his men to prison. On such wise did the wretchedand lovelorn Cimon lose his Iphigenia, scantwhile before won of him,without having taken of her more than a kiss or two; whilst sheherself was received by many noble ladies of Rhodes and comforted aswell for the chagrin had of her seizure as for the fatigue suffered byreason of the troubled sea; and with them she abode against the dayappointed for her nuptials.
[Footnote 265: _Per fortuna._ This may also be rendered "by tempest,"_fortuna_ being a name for a squall or hurricane, which Boccaccio useselsewhere in the same sense.]
As for Cimon and his companions, their lives were granted them, inconsideration of the liberty given by them to the young Rhodians theday before,--albeit Pasimondas used his utmost endeavour to procurethem to be put to death,--and they were condemned to perpetual prison,wherein, as may well be believed, they abode woebegone and withouthope of any relief. However, whilst Pasimondas, as most he might,hastened the preparations for his coming nuptials, fortune, as ifrepenting her of the sudden injury done to Cimon, brought about a newcircumstance for his deliverance, the which was on this wise.Pasimondas had a brother called Ormisdas, less in years, but not inmerit, than himself, who had been long in treaty for the hand of afair and noble damsel of the city, by name Cassandra, whom Lysimachusardently loved, and the match had sundry times been broken off bydivers untoward accidents. Now Pasimondas, being about to celebratehis own nuptials with the utmost splendour, bethought himself that itwere excellently well done if he could procure Ormisdas likewise totake wife on the same occasion, not to resort afresh to expense andfestival making. Accordingly, he took up again the parleys withCassandra's parents and brought them to a successful issue; whereforehe and his brother agreed, in concert with them, that Ormisdas shouldtake Cassandra to wife on the same day whenas himself took Iphigenia.
Lysimachus hearing this, it was beyond measure displeasing to him, forthat he saw himself bereaved of the hope which he cherished, that, anOrmisdas took her not, he should certainly have her. However, like awise man, he kept his chagrin hidden and fell to considering on whatwise he might avail
to hinder this having effect, but could see no waypossible save the carrying her off. This seemed easy to him to compassfor the office which he held, but he accounted the deed far moredishonourable than if he had not held the office in question.Ultimately, however, after long deliberation, honour gave place tolove and he determined, come what might of it, to carry off Cassandra.Then, bethinking himself of the company he must have and the course hemust hold to do this, he remembered him of Cimon, whom he had inprison with his comrades, and concluded that he might have no betteror trustier companion than Cimon in this affair.
Accordingly, that same night he had him privily into his chamber andproceeded to bespeak him on this wise: 'Cimon, like as the gods arevery excellent and bountiful givers of things to men, even so are theymost sagacious provers of their virtues, and those, whom they findresolute and constant under all circumstances, they hold deserving, asthe most worthy, of the highest recompenses. They have been minded tohave more certain proof of thy worth than could be shown by theewithin the limits of thy father's house, whom I know to be abundantlyendowed with riches; wherefore, first, with the poignant instigationsof love they brought thee from a senseless animal to be a man, andafter with foul fortune and at this present with prison dour, theywould fain try if thy spirit change not from that which it was, whenasthou wast scantwhile glad of the gotten prize. If that[266] be thesame as it was erst, they never yet vouchsafed thee aught so gladsomeas that which they are presently prepared to bestow on thee and which,so thou mayst recover thy wonted powers and resume thy whilom spirit,I purpose to discover to thee.
[Footnote 266: _i.e._ thy spirit.]
Pasimondas, rejoicing in thy misadventure and a diligent promoter ofthy death, bestirreth himself as most he may to celebrate his nuptialswith thine Iphigenia, so therein he may enjoy the prize which fortunefirst blithely conceded thee and after, growing troubled, took fromthee of a sudden. How much this must grieve thee, an thou love as Ibelieve, I know by myself, to whom Ormisdas his brother prepareth inone same day to do a like injury in the person of Cassandra, whom Ilove over all else. To escape so great an unright and annoy offortune, I see no way left open of her to us, save the valour of oursouls and the might of our right hands, wherein it behoveth us takeour swords and make us a way to the carrying off of our twomistresses, thee for the second and me for the first time. If, then,it be dear to thee to have again--I will not say thy liberty, whereofmethinketh thou reckest little without thy lady, but--thy mistress,the gods have put her in thy hands, an thou be willing to second me inmy emprize.'
All Cimon's lost spirit was requickened in him by these words and hereplied, without overmuch consideration, 'Lysimachus, thou canst haveno stouter or trustier comrade than myself in such an enterprise, anthat be to ensue thereof for me which thou avouchest; wherefore dothou command me that which thou deemest should be done of me, and thoushalt find thyself wonder-puissantly seconded.' Then said Lysimachus,'On the third day from this the new-married wives will for the firsttime enter their husbands' houses, whereinto thou with thy companionsarmed and I with certain of my friends, in whom I put great trust,will make our way towards nightfall and snatching up our mistressesout of the midst of the guests, will carry them off to a ship, which Ihave caused secretly equip, slaying whosoever shall presume to offeropposition.' The devise pleased Cimon and he abode quiet in prisonuntil the appointed time.
The wedding-day being come, great and magnificent was the pomp of thefestival and every part of the two brothers' house was full of mirthand merrymaking; whereupon Lysimachus, having made ready everythingneedful, divided Cimon and his companions, together with his ownfriends, all armed under their clothes, into three parties and havingfirst kindled them to his purpose with many words, secretly despatchedone party to the harbour, so none might hinder their going aboard theship, whenas need should be. Then, coming with the other twain, whenasit seemed to him time, to Pasimondas his house, he left one party ofthem at the door, so as none might shut them up therewithin or forbidthem the issue, and with Cimon and the rest went up by the stairs.Coming to the saloon where the new-wedded brides were seated orderlyat meat with many other ladies, they rushed in upon them andoverthrowing the tables, took each his mistress and putting them inthe hands of their comrades, bade straightway carry them to the shipthat was in waiting. The brides fell a-weeping and shrieking, as didlikewise the other ladies and the servants, and the whole house was ofa sudden full of clamour and lamentation.
Cimon and Lysimachus and their companions, drawing their swords, madefor the stairs, without any opposition, all giving way to them, and asthey descended, Pasimondas presented himself before them, with a greatcudgel in his hand, being drawn thither by the outcry; but Cimon dealthim a swashing blow on the head and cleaving it sheer in sunder, laidhim dead at his feet. The wretched Ormisdas, running to his brother'said, was on like wise slain by one of Cimon's strokes, and diversothers who sought to draw nigh them were in like manner wounded andbeaten off by the companions of the latter and Lysimachus, who,leaving the house full of blood and clamour and weeping and woe, drewtogether and made their way to the ship with their prizes, unhinderedof any. Here they embarked with their mistresses and all theircompanions, the shore being now full of armed folk come to the rescueof the ladies, and thrusting the oars into the water, made off,rejoicing, about their business. Coming presently to Crete, they werethere joyfully received by many, both friends and kinsfolk, andespousing their mistresses with great pomp, gave themselves up to theglad enjoyment of their purchase. Loud and long were the clamours anddifferences in Cyprus and in Rhodes by reason of their doings; but,ultimately, their friends and kinsfolk, interposing in one and theother place, found means so to adjust matters that, after some exile,Cimon joyfully returned to Cyprus with Iphigenia, whilst Lysimachus onlike wise returned to Rhodes with Cassandra, and each lived long andhappily with his mistress in his own country."
The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio Page 48