THE SECOND STORY
[Day the Eighth]
THE PARISH PRIEST OF VARLUNGO LIETH WITH MISTRESS BELCOLORE AND LEAVETH HER A CLOAK OF HIS IN PLEDGE; THEN, BORROWING A MORTAR OF HER, HE SENDETH IT BACK TO HER, DEMANDING IN RETURN THE CLOAK LEFT BY WAY OF TOKEN, WHICH THE GOOD WOMAN GRUDGINGLY GIVETH HIM BACK
Men and ladies alike commended that which Gulfardo had done to thesordid Milanese lady, and the queen, turning to Pamfilo, smilinglycharged him follow on; whereupon quoth he, "Fair ladies, it occurrethto me to tell you a little story against those who continually offendagainst us, without being open to retaliation on our part, to wit, theclergy, who have proclaimed a crusade against our wives and who,whenas they avail to get one of the latter under them, conceivethemselves to have gained forgiveness of fault and pardon of penaltyno otherwise than as they had brought the Soldan bound fromAlexandria to Avignon.[365] Whereof the wretched laymen cannot returnthem the like, albeit they wreak their ire upon the priests' mothersand sisters, doxies and daughters, assailing them with no less ardourthan the former do their wives. Wherefore I purpose to recount to youa village love-affair, more laughable for its conclusion than long inwords, wherefrom you may yet gather, by way of fruit, that priests arenot always to be believed in everything.
[Footnote 365: Where the papal court then was. See p. 257, note.]
You must know, then, that there was once at Varlungo,--a village verynear here, as each of you ladies either knoweth or may have heard,--aworthy priest and a lusty of his person in the service of the ladies,who, albeit he knew not overwell how to read, natheless regaled hisparishioners with store of good and pious saws at the elmfoot onSundays and visited their women, whenas they went abroad anywhither,more diligently than any priest who had been there aforetime, carryingthem fairings and holy water and a stray candle-end or so, whiles evento their houses. Now it chanced that, among other his she-parishionerswho were most to his liking, one pleased him over all, by nameMistress Belcolore, the wife of a husbandman who styled himselfBentivegna del Mazzo, a jolly, buxom country wench, brown-favoured andtight-made, as apt at turning the mill[366] as any woman alive.Moreover, it was she who knew how to play the tabret and sing 'Thewater runneth to the ravine' and lead up the haye and the round, whenneed was, with a fine muckender in her hand and a quaint, better thanany woman of her neighbourhood; by reason of which things my lordpriest became so sore enamoured of her that he was like to lose hiswits therefor and would prowl about all day long to get a sight ofher. Whenas he espied her in church of a Sunday morning, he would saya Kyrie and a Sanctus, studying to show himself a past master indescant, that it seemed as it were an ass a-braying; whereas, when hesaw her not there, he passed that part of the service over lightlyenough. But yet he made shift to do on such wise that neitherBentivegna nor any of his neighbours suspected aught; and the betterto gain Mistress Belcolore's goodwill, he made her presents from timeto time, sending her whiles a clove of garlic, which he had the finestof all the countryside in a garden he tilled with his own hands, andotherwhiles a punnet of peascods or a bunch of chives or scallions,and whenas he saw his opportunity, he would ogle her askance and casta friendly gibe at her; but she, putting on the prude, made a show ofnot observing it and passed on with a demure air; wherefore my lordpriest could not come by his will of her.
[Footnote 366: Or, as La Fontaine would say, "aussi bien faite pourarmer un lit."]
It chanced one day that as he sauntered about the quarter on thestroke of noon, he encountered Bentivegna del Mazzo, driving an assladen with gear, and accosting him, asked whither he went. 'Faith,sir,' answered the husbandman, 'to tell you the truth, I am going totown about a business of mine and am carrying these things to SquireBonaccorri da Ginestreto, so he may help me in I know not what whereofthe police-court judge hath summoned me by his proctor for aperemptory attendance.' The priest was rejoiced to hear this andsaid, 'Thou dost well, my son; go now with my benison and returnspeedily; and shouldst thou chance to see Lapuccio or Naldino, forgetnot to bid them bring me those straps they wot of for my flails.'Bentivegna answered that it should be done and went his way towardsFlorence, whereupon the priest bethought himself that now was his timeto go try his luck with Belcolore. Accordingly, he let not the grassgrow under his feet, but set off forthright and stayed not till hecame to her house and entering in, said, 'God send us all well! Who iswithin there?' Belcolore, who was gone up into the hay-loft, hearinghim, said, 'Marry, sir, you are welcome; but what do you gadding itabroad in this heat?' 'So God give me good luck,' answered he, 'I cameto abide with thee awhile, for that I met thy man going to town.'
Belcolore came down and taking a seat, fell to picking overcabbage-seed which her husband had threshed out a while before;whereupon quoth the priest to her, 'Well, Belcolore, wilt thou stillcause me die for thee on this wise?' She laughed and answered, 'Whatis it I do to you?' Quoth he, 'Thou dost nought to me, but thousufferest me not do to thee that which I would fain do and which Godcommandeth.' 'Alack!' cried Belcolore, 'Go to, go to. Do priests dosuch things?' 'Ay do we,' replied he, 'as well as other men; and whynot? And I tell thee more, we do far and away better work and knowestthou why? Because we grind with a full head of water. But in goodsooth it shall be shrewdly to thy profit, an thou wilt but abide quietand let me do.' 'And what might this "shrewdly to my profit" be?'asked she. 'For all you priests are stingier than the devil.' Quothhe, 'I know not; ask thou. Wilt have a pair of shoes or a head-lace ora fine stammel waistband or what thou wilt?' 'Pshaw!' cried Belcolore.'I have enough and to spare of such things; but an you wish me sowell, why do you not render me a service, and I will do what youwill?' Quoth the priest, 'Say what thou wilt have of me, and I will doit willingly.' Then said she, 'Needs must I go to Florence, comeSaturday, to carry back the wool I have spun and get my spinning-wheelmended; and an you will lend me five crowns, which I know you have byyou, I can take my watchet gown out of pawn and my Sunday girdle[367]that I brought my husband, for you see I cannot go to church nor toany decent place, because I have them not; and after I will still dowhat you would have me.' 'So God give me a good year,' replied thepriest, 'I have them not about me; but believe me, ere Saturday come,I will contrive that thou shalt have them, and that very willingly.''Ay,' said Belcolore, 'you are all like this, great promisers, andafter perform nothing to any. Think you to do with me as you did withBiliuzza, who went off with the ghittern-player?[368] Cock's faith,then, you shall not, for that she is turned a common drab only forthat. If you have them not about you, go for them.' 'Alack,' cried thepriest, 'put me not upon going all the way home. Thou seest that Ihave the luck just now to find thee alone, but maybe, when I return,there will be some one or other here to hinder us; and I know not whenI shall find so good an opportunity again.' Quoth she, 'It is well; anyou choose to go, go; if not, go without.'
[Footnote 367: Or apron.]
[Footnote 368: _Se n'ando col ceteratojo_; a proverbial expression ofsimilar meaning to our "was whistled down the wind," _i.e._ waslightly dismissed without provision, like a cast-off hawk.]
The priest, seeing that she was not in the humour to do his pleasurewithout a _salvum me fac_, whereas he would fain have done it _sinecustodia_, said, 'Harkye, thou believest not that I will bring theethe money; but, so thou mayst credit me, I will leave thee this myblue-cloth cloak.' Belcolore raised her eyes and said, 'Eh what! Thatcloak? What is it worth?' 'Worth?' answered the priest. 'I would havethee know that it is cloth of Douay, nay, Threeay, and there be someof our folk here who hold it for Fouray.[369] It is scarce a fortnightsince it cost me seven crowns of hard money to Lotto the broker, andaccording to what Buglietto telleth me (and thou knowest he is a judgeof this kind of cloth), I had it good five shillings overcheap.''Indeed!' quoth Belcolore. 'So God be mine aid, I had never thoughtit. But give it me first of all.' My lord priest, who had his arbalestready cocked, pulled off the cloak and gave it her; and she, after shehad laid it up, said, 'Come, sir, let us go into the barn, for no oneever cometh there.' A
nd so they did. There the priest gave her theheartiest busses in the world and making her sib to God Almighty,[370]solaced himself with her a great while; after which he took leave ofher and returned to the parsonage in his cassock, as it were he camefrom officiating at a wedding.
[Footnote 369: A play of words upon the Italian equivalent of theFrench word Douay (_Duagio, i.e. Twoay, Treagio, Quattragio_) inventedby the roguish priest to impose upon the simple goodwife.]
[Footnote 370: Or in modern parlance, "making her a connection bymarriage of etc.," Boccaccio feigning priests to be members of theHoly Family, by virtue of their office.]
There, bethinking himself that all the candle-ends he got by way ofoffertory in all the year were not worth the half of five crowns,himseemed he had done ill and repenting him of having left the cloak,he fell to considering how he might have it again without cost. Beingshrewd enough in a small way, he soon hit upon a device and itsucceeded to his wish; for that on the morrow, it being a holiday, hesent a neighbour's lad of his to Mistress Belcolore's house, with amessage praying her be pleased to lend him her stone mortar, for thatBinguccio dal Poggio and Nuto Buglietti were to dine with him thatmorning and he had a mind to make sauce. She sent it to him andtowards dinner-time, the priest, having spied out when Bentivegna andhis wife were at meat together, called his clerk and said to him,'Carry this mortar back to Belcolore and say to her, 'His reverencebiddeth you gramercy and prayeth you send him back the cloak that theboy left you by way of token.' The clerk accordingly repaired to herhouse and there, finding her at table with Bentivegna, set down themortar and did the priest's errand. Belcolore, hearing require thecloak again, would have answered; but her husband said, with an angryair, 'Takest thou a pledge of his reverence? I vow to Christ, I have amind to give thee a good clout over the head! Go, give it quickly backto him, pox take thee! And in future, let him ask what he will ofours, (ay, though he should seek our ass,) look that it be not deniedhim.' Belcolore rose, grumbling, and pulling the cloak out of thechest, gave it to the clerk, saying, 'Tell her reverence from me,Belcolore saith, she voweth to God you shall never again pound saucein her mortar; you have done her no such fine honour of this bout.'
The clerk made off with the cloak and did her message to the priest,who said, laughing, 'Tell her, when thou seest her, that, an she willnot lend me her mortar, I will not lend her my pestle; and so we shallbe quits.' Bentivegna concluded that his wife had said this, becausehe had chidden her, and took no heed thereof; but Belcolore bore thepriest a grudge and held him at arm's length till vintage-time; when,he having threatened to cause her go into the mouth of Lucifer thegreat devil, for very fear she made her peace with him over must androast chestnuts and they after made merry together time and again. Inlieu of the five crowns, the priest let put new parchment to hertabret and string thereto a cast of hawk's bells, and with this shewas fain to be content."
The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio Page 82