THE TENTH STORY
[Day the Fifth]
PIETRO DI VINCIOLO GOETH TO SUP ABROAD, WHEREUPON HIS WIFE LETTETH FETCH HER A YOUTH TO KEEP HER COMPANY, AND HER HUSBAND RETURNING, UNLOOKED FOR, SHE HIDETH HER GALLANT UNDER A HEN-COOP. PIETRO TELLETH HER HOW THERE HAD BEEN FOUND IN THE HOUSE OF ONE ARCOLANO, WITH WHOM HE WAS TO HAVE SUPPED, A YOUNG MAN BROUGHT IN BY HIS WIFE, AND SHE BLAMETH THE LATTER. PRESENTLY, AN ASS, BY MISCHANCE, SETTETH FOOT ON THE FINGERS OF HIM WHO IS UNDER THE COOP AND HE ROARETH OUT, WHEREUPON PIETRO RUNNETH THITHER AND ESPYING HIM, DISCOVERETH HIS WIFE'S UNFAITH, BUT ULTIMATELY COMETH TO AN ACCORD WITH HER FOR HIS OWN LEWD ENDS
The queen's story come to an end and all having praised God for thatHe had rewarded Federigo according to his desert, Dioneo, who neverwaited for commandment, began on this wise: "I know not whether to sayif it be a casual vice, grown up in mankind through perversity ofmanners and usances, or a defect inherent in our nature, that we laughrather at things ill than at good works, especially when they concernus not. Wherefore, seeing that the pains I have otherwhiles taken andam now about to take aim at none other end than to rid you ofmelancholy and afford you occasion for laughter and merriment,--albeitthe matter of my present story may be in part not altogether seemly,nevertheless, lovesome lasses, for that it may afford diversion, Iwill e'en tell it you, and do you, hearkening thereunto, as you arewont to do, whenas you enter into gardens, where, putting out yourdainty hands, you cull the roses and leave the thorns be. On this wisemust you do with my story, leaving the naughty man of whom I shalltell you to his infamy and ill-luck go with him, what while you laughmerrily at the amorous devices of his wife, having compassion, whenasneed is, of the mischances of others.
There was, then, in Perugia, no great while agone, a rich man calledPietro di Vinciolo, who, belike more to beguile others and to abatethe general suspect in which he was had of all the Perugians, than forany desire of his own, took him a wife, and fortune in this was so farconformable to his inclination that the wife he took was a thickset,red-haired, hot-complexioned wench, who would liefer have had twohusbands than one, whereas she happened upon one who had a mind farmore disposed to otherwhat than to her. Becoming, in process of time,aware of this and seeing herself fair and fresh and feeling herselfbuxom and lusty, she began by being sore incensed thereat and cameonce and again to unseemly words thereof with her husband, with whomshe was well nigh always at variance. Then, seeing that this mightresult rather in her own exhaustion than in the amendment of herhusband's depravity, she said in herself, 'Yonder caitiff forsaketh meto go of his ribaldries on pattens through the dry, and I will studyto carry others on shipboard through the wet. I took him to husbandand brought him a fine great dowry, knowing him to be a man andsupposing him desireful of that whereunto men are and should be fain;and had I not believed that he would play the part of a man, I hadnever taken him. He knew that I was a woman; why, then, did he take meto wife, if women were not to his mind? This is not to be suffered.Were I minded to renounce the world, I should have made myself a nun;but, if, choosing to live in the world, as I do, I look for delight orpleasure from yonder fellow, I may belike grow old, expecting in vain,and whenas I shall be old, I shall in vain repent and bemoan myself ofhaving wasted my youth, which latter he himself is a very good teacherand demonstrator how I should solace, showing me by example how Ishould delect myself with that wherein he delighteth, more by tokenthat this were commendable in me, whereas in him it is exceedingblameworthy, seeing that I should offend against the laws alone,whereas he offendeth against both law and nature.'
Accordingly, the good lady, having thus bethought herself and belikemore than once, to give effect privily to these considerations,clapped up an acquaintance with an old woman who showed like SaintVerdiana, that giveth the serpents to eat, and still went to everypardoning, beads in hand, nor ever talked of aught but the lives ofthe Holy Fathers or of the wounds of St. Francis and was of well nighall reputed a saint, and whenas it seemed to her time, franklydiscovered to her her intent. 'Daughter mine,' replied the beldam,'God who knoweth all knoweth that thou wilt do exceeding well, and iffor nought else, yet shouldst thou do it, thou and every other youngwoman, not to lose the time of your youth, for that to whoso hathunderstanding, there is no grief like that of having lost one's time.And what a devil are we women good for, once we are old, save to keepthe ashes about the fire-pot? If none else knoweth it and can bearwitness thereof, that do and can I; for, now that I am old, Irecognize without avail, but not without very sore and bitter remorseof mind, the time that I let slip, and albeit I lost it not altogether(for that I would not have thee deem me a ninny), still I did not whatI might have done; whereof whenas I remember me, seeing myselffashioned as thou seest me at this present, so that thou wouldst findnone to give me fire to my tinder,[286] God knoweth what chagrin Ifeel. With men it is not so; they are born apt for a thousand things,not for this alone, and most part of them are of much more account oldthan young; but women are born into the world for nothing but to dothis and bear children, and it is for this that they are prized; thewhich, if from nought else, thou mayst apprehend from this, that wewomen are still ready for the sport; more by token that one womanwould tire out many men at the game, whereas many men cannot tire onewoman; and for that we are born unto this, I tell thee again that thouwilt do exceeding well to return thy husband a loaf for his bannock,so thy soul may have no cause to reproach thy flesh in thine old age.Each one hath of this world just so much as he taketh to himselfthereof, and especially is this the case with women, whom it behoveth,much more than men, make use of their time, whilst they have it; forthou mayst see how, when we grow old, nor husband nor other will lookat us; nay, they send us off to the kitchen to tell tales to the catand count the pots and pans; and what is worse, they tag rhymes on usand say,
"Tidbits for wenches young; Gags[287] for the old wife's tongue."
[Footnote 286: _i.e._ she was grown so repulsively ugly in her oldage, that no one cared to do her even so trifling a service as givingher a spark in tinder to light her fire withal.]
[Footnote 287: Or chokebits (_stranguglioni_).]
And many another thing to the like purpose. And that I may hold theeno longer in parley, I tell thee in fine that thou couldst not havediscovered thy mind to any one in the world who can be more useful tothee than I, for that there is no man so high and mighty but I daretell him what behoveth, nor any so dour or churlish but I know how tosupple him aright and bring him to what I will. Wherefore do thou butshow me who pleaseth thee and after leave me do; but one thing Icommend to thee, daughter mine, and that is, that thou be mindful ofme, for that I am a poor body and would have thee henceforth a sharerin all my pardonings and in all the paternosters I shall say, so Godmay make them light and candles for thy dead.'[288]
[Footnote 288: _i.e._ that they may serve to purchase remission frompurgatory for the souls of her dead relatives, instead of the burningof candles and tapers, which is held by the Roman Catholic Church tohave that effect.]
With this she made an end of her discourse, and the young lady came toan understanding with her that, whenas she chanced to spy a certainyoung spark who passed often through that quarter and whose everyfeature she set out to her, she should know what she had to do; then,giving her a piece of salt meat, she dismissed her with God'sblessing; nor had many days passed ere the old woman brought her himof whom she had bespoken her privily into her chamber, and a littlewhile after, another and another, according as they chanced to takethe lady's fancy, who stinted not to indulge herself in this as oftenas occasion offered, though still fearful of her husband. It chancedone evening that, her husband being to sup abroad with a friend ofhis, Ercolano by name, she charged the old woman bring her a youth,who was one of the goodliest and most agreeable of all Perugia, whichshe promptly did; but hardly had the lady seated herself at table tosup with her gallant, when, behold, Pietro called out at the door tohave it opened to him. She, hearing this, gav
e herself up for lost,but yet desiring, an she might, to conceal the youth and not havingthe presence of mind to send him away or hide him elsewhere, made himtake refuge under a hen-coop, that was in a shed adjoining the chamberwhere they were at supper, and cast over him the sacking of apallet-bed that she had that day let empty.
This done, she made haste to open to her husband, to whom quoth she,as soon as he entered the house, 'You have very soon despatched thissupper of yours!' 'We have not so much as tasted it,' replied he; andshe said, 'How was that?' Quoth he, 'I will tell thee. Scarce were weseated at table, Ercolano and his wife and I, when we heard some onesneeze hard by, whereof we took no note the first time nor the second;but, he who sneezed sneezing yet a third time and a fourth and a fifthand many other times, it made us all marvel; whereupon Ercolano, whowas somewhat vexed with his wife for that she had kept us a greatwhile standing at the door, without opening to us, said, as if in arage, "What meaneth this? Who is it sneezeth thus?" And rising fromtable, made for a stair that stood near at hand and under which, hardby the stairfoot, was a closure of planks, wherein to bestow allmanner things, as we see those do every day who set their houses inorder. Himseeming it was from this that came the noise of sneezing, heopened a little door that was therein and no sooner had he done thisthan there issued forth thereof the frightfullest stench of sulphurthat might be. Somewhat of this smell had already reached us and wecomplaining thereof, the lady had said, "It is because I was but nowin act to bleach my veils with sulphur and after set the pan, overwhich I had spread them to catch the fumes, under the stair, so thatit yet smoketh thereof."
As soon as the smoke was somewhat spent, Ercolano looked into thecupboard and there espied him who had sneezed and who was yet in actto sneeze, for that the fumes of the sulphur constrained him thereto,and indeed they had by this time so straitened his breast that, had heabidden a while longer, he had never sneezed nor done aught elseagain. Ercolano, seeing him, cried out, "Now, wife, I see why, whenaswe came hither awhile ago, we were kept so long at the door, withoutits being opened to us; but may I never again have aught that shallplease me, an I pay thee not for this!" The lady, hearing this andseeing that her sin was discovered, stayed not to make any excuse, butstarted up from table and made off I know not whither. Ercolano,without remarking his wife's flight, again and again bade him whosneezed come forth; but the latter, who was now at the last gasp,offered not to stir, for all that he could say; whereupon, taking himby one foot, he haled him forth of his hiding-place and ran for aknife to kill him; but I, fearing the police on mine own account,arose and suffered him not to slay him or do him any hurt; nay, cryingout and defending him, I gave the alarm to certain of the neighbours,who ran thither and taking the now half-dead youth, carried him forththe house I know not whither. Wherefore, our supper being disturbed bythese things, I have not only not despatched it, nay, I have, as Isaid, not even tasted it.'
The lady, hearing this, knew that there were other women as wise asherself, albeit illhap bytimes betided some of them thereof, and wouldfain have defended Ercolano's wife with words; but herseeming that, byblaming others' defaults, she might make freer way for her own, shebegan to say, 'Here be fine doings! A holy and virtuous lady indeedshe must be! She, to whom, as I am an honest woman, I would haveconfessed myself, so spiritually minded meseemed she was! And theworst of it is that she, being presently an old woman, setteth amighty fine example to the young. Accursed by the hour she came intothe world and she also, who suffereth herself to live, perfidious andvile woman that she must be, the general reproach and shame of all theladies of this city, who, casting to the winds her honour and thefaith plighted to her husband and the world's esteem, is not ashamedto dishonour him, and herself with him, for another man, him who issuch a man and so worshipful a citizen and who used her so well! SoGod save me, there should be no mercy had of such women as she; theyshould be put to death; they should be cast alive into the fire andburned to ashes.' Then, bethinking her of her gallant, whom she hadhard by under the coop, she began to exhort Pietro to betake himselfto bed, for that it was time; but he, having more mind to eat than tosleep, enquired if there was aught for supper. 'Supper, quotha!'answered the lady. 'Truly, we are much used to get supper, whenas thouart abroad! A fine thing, indeed! Dost thou take me for Ercolano'swife? Alack, why dost thou not go to sleep for to-night? How farbetter thou wilt do!' Now it chanced that, certain husbandmen ofPietro's being come that evening with sundry matters from the farm andhaving put up their asses, without watering them, in a little stableadjoining the shed, one of the latter, being sore athirst, slipped hishead out of the halter and making his way out of the stable, wentsmelling to everything, so haply he might find some water, and goingthus, he came presently full on the hen-coop, under which was theyoung man. The latter having, for that it behoved him abide on allfours, put out the fingers of one hand on the ground beyond the coop,such was his luck, or rather let us say, his ill luck, that the assset his hoof on them, whereupon the youth, feeling an exceeding greatpain, set up a terrible outcry. Pietro, hearing this, marvelled andperceived that the noise came from within the house; wherefore he wentout into the shed and hearing the other still clamouring, for that theass had not lifted up his hoof from his fingers, but still trod hardupon them, said, 'Who is there?' Then, running to the hen-coop, heraised it and espied the young man, who, beside the pain he sufferedfrom his fingers that were crushed by the ass's hoof, was alla-trembling for fear lest Pietro should do him a mischief.
The latter, knowing him for one whom he had long pursued for his lewdends, asked him what he did there, whereto he answered him nothing,but prayed him for the love of God do him no harm. Quoth Pietro,'Arise and fear not that I will do thee any hurt; but tell me how thoucomest here and for what purpose.' The youth told him all, whereuponPietro, no less rejoiced to have found him than his wife was woeful,taking him by the hand, carried him into the chamber, where the ladyawaited him with the greatest affright in the world, and seatinghimself overagainst her, said, 'But now thou cursedst Ercolano's wifeand avouchedst that she should be burnt and that she was the disgraceof all you women; why didst thou not speak of thyself? Or, an thouchoosedst not to speak of thyself, how could thy conscience sufferthee to speak thus of her, knowing thyself to have done even as didshe? Certes, none other thing moved thee thereunto save that you womenare all made thus and look to cover your own doings with others'defaults; would fire might come from heaven to burn you all up,perverse generation that you are!'
The lady, seeing that, in the first heat of the discovery, he had doneher no harm other than in words and herseeming she saw that he was allagog with joy for that he held so goodly a stripling by the hand, tookheart and said, 'Of this much, indeed, I am mighty well assured, thatthou wouldst have fire come from heaven to burn us women all up,being, as thou art, as fain to us as a dog to cudgels; but, by ChristHis cross, thou shalt not get thy wish. However, I would fain have alittle discourse with thee, so I may know of what thou complainest.Certes, it were a fine thing an thou shouldst seek to even me withErcolano's wife, who is a beat-breast, a smell-sin,[289] and hath ofher husband what she will and is of him held dear as a wife should be,the which is not the case with me. For, grant that I am well clad andshod of thee, thou knowest but too well how I fare for the rest andhow long it is since thou hast lain with me; and I had liefer gobarefoot and rags to my back and be well used of thee abed than haveall these things, being used as I am of thee. For understand plainly,Pietro; I am a woman like other women and have a mind unto that whichother women desire; so that, an I procure me thereof, not having itfrom thee, thou hast no call to missay of me therefor; at the least, Ido thee this much honour that I have not to do with horseboys andscald-heads.'
[Footnote 289: _i.e._ a hypocritical sham devotee, covering a lewdlife with an appearance of sanctity.]
Pietro perceived that words were not like to fail her for all thatnight; wherefore, as one who recked little of her, 'Wife,' said he,'no more for the present; I will content thee ar
ight of this matter;but thou wilt do us a great courtesy to let us have somewhat to supwithal, for that meseemeth this lad, like myself, hath not yetsupped.' 'Certes, no,' answered the lady, 'he hath not yet supped; forwe were sitting down to table, when thou camest in thine ill hour.''Go, then,' rejoined Pietro, 'contrive that we may sup, and after Iwill order this matter on such wise that thou shalt have no cause tocomplain.' The lady, finding that her husband was satisfied, arose andcaused straightway reset the table; then, letting bring the supper shehad prepared, she supped merrily in company with her caitiff of ahusband and the young man. After supper, what Pietro devised for thesatisfaction of all three hath escaped my mind; but this much I knowthat on the following morning the youth was escorted back to thepublic place, not altogether certain which he had the more been thatnight, wife or husband. Wherefore, dear my ladies, this will I say toyou, 'Whoso doth it to you, do you it to him'; and if you cannotpresently, keep it in mind till such time as you can, so he may get asgood as he giveth."
* * * * *
Dioneo having made an end of his story, which had been less laughed atby the ladies [than usual], more for shamefastness than for the littledelight they took therein, the queen, seeing the end of her sovrantycome, rose to her feet and putting off the laurel crown, set itblithely on Elisa's head, saying, "With you, madam, henceforth itresteth to command." Elisa, accepting the honour, did even as it hadbeen done before her, in that, having first, to the satisfaction ofthe company, taken order with the seneschal for that whereof there wasneed for the time of her governance, she said, "We have many a timeheard how, by dint of smart sayings and ready repartees and promptadvisements, many have availed with an apt retort[290] to take theedge off other folks' teeth or to fend off imminent perils; and, forthat the matter is goodly and may be useful,[291] I will thatto-morrow, with God's aid, it be discoursed within these terms, towit, OF WHOSO, BEING ASSAILED WITH SOME JIBING SPEECH, HATH VINDICATEDHIMSELF OR HATH WITH SOME READY REPLY OR ADVISEMENT ESCAPED LOSS,PERIL OR SHAME."
[Footnote 290: Lit. a due or deserved bite (_debito morso_). I mentionthis to show the connection with teeth.]
[Footnote 291: An ellipsis of a kind common in Boccaccio and indeed inall the old Italian writers, meaning "it may be useful to enlarge uponthe subject in question."]
This was much commended of all, whereupon the queen, rising to herfeet, dismissed them all until supper time. The honourable company,seeing her risen, stood up all and each, according to the wontedfashion, applied himself to that which was most agreeable to him. But,the crickets having now given over singing, the queen let call everyone and they betook themselves to supper, which being despatched withmerry cheer, they all gave themselves to singing and making music, andEmilia having, at the queen's commandment, set up a dance, Dioneo wasbidden sing a song, whereupon he straightway struck up with "MistressAldruda, come lift up your fud-a, for I bring you, I bring you, goodtidings." Whereat all the ladies fell a-laughing and especially thequeen, who bade him leave that and sing another. Quoth Dioneo, "Madam,had I a tabret, I would sing 'Come truss your coats, I prithee,Mistress Burdock,' or 'Under the olive the grass is'; or will you haveme say 'The waves of the sea do great evil to me'? But I have notabret, so look which you will of these others. Will it please youhave 'Come forth unto us, so it may be cut down, like a May in themidst of the meadows'?" "Nay," answered the queen; "give us another.""Then," said Dioneo, "shall I sing, 'Mistress Simona, embarrel,embarrel! It is not the month of October'?" Quoth the queen, laughing,"Ill luck to thee, sing us a goodly one, an thou wilt, for we willnone of these." "Nay, madam," rejoined Dioneo, "fash not yourself; butwhich then like you better? I know more than a thousand. Will you have'This my shell an I prick it not well,' or 'Fair and softly, husbandmine' or 'I'll buy me a cock, a cock of an hundred poundssterling'?"[292] Therewithal the queen, somewhat provoked, though allthe other ladies laughed, said, "Dioneo, leave jesting and sing us agoodly one; else shalt thou prove how I can be angry." Hearing this,he gave over his quips and cranks and forthright fell a-singing afterthis fashion:
[Footnote 292: The songs proposed by Dioneo are all apparently of alight, if not a wanton, character and "not fit to be sung beforeladies."]
O Love, the amorous light That beameth from yon fair one's lovely eyes Hath made me thine and hers in servant-guise.
The splendour of her lovely eyes, it wrought That first thy flames were kindled in my breast, Passing thereto through mine; Yea, and thy virtue first unto my thought Her visage fair it was made manifest, Which picturing, I twine And lay before her shrine All virtues, that to her I sacrifice, Become the new occasion of my sighs.
Thus, dear my lord, thy vassal am I grown And of thy might obediently await Grace for my lowliness; Yet wot I not if wholly there be known The high desire that in my breast thou'st set And my sheer faith, no less, Of her who doth possess My heart so that from none beneath the skies, Save her alone, peace would I take or prize.
Wherefore I pray thee, sweet my lord and sire, Discover it to her and cause her taste Some scantling of thy heat To-me-ward,--for thou seest that in the fire, Loving, I languish and for torment waste By inches at her feet,-- And eke in season meet Commend me to her favour on such wise As I would plead for thee, should need arise.[293]
[Footnote 293: This singularly naive give-and-take fashion of asking afavour of a God recalls the old Scotch epitaph cited by Mr. GeorgeMacdonald:
Here lie I Martin Elginbrodde: Hae mercy o' my soul, Lord God; As I wad do, were I Lord God And ye were Martin Elginbrodde.]
Dioneo, by his silence, showing that his song was ended, the queen letsing many others, having natheless much commended his. Then, somedeleof the night being spent and the queen feeling the heat of the day tobe now overcome of the coolness of the night, she bade each at hispleasure betake himself to rest against the ensuing day.
HERE ENDETH THE FIFTH DAYOF THE DECAMERON
The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio Page 57