THE SEVENTH STORY
[Day the Eighth]
A SCHOLAR LOVETH A WIDOW LADY, WHO, BEING ENAMOURED OF ANOTHER, CAUSETH HIM SPEND ONE WINTER'S NIGHT IN THE SNOW AWAITING HER, AND HE AFTER CONTRIVETH, BY HIS SLEIGHT, TO HAVE HER ABIDE NAKED, ALL ONE MID-JULY DAY, ON THE SUMMIT OF A TOWER, EXPOSED TO FLIES AND GADS AND SUN
The ladies laughed amain at the unhappy Calandrino and would havelaughed yet more, but that it irked them to see him fleeced of thecapons, to boot, by those who had already robbed him of the pig. But,as soon as the end of the story was come, the queen charged Pampineatell hers, and she promptly began thus: "It chanceth oft, dearestladies, that craft is put to scorn by craft and it is therefore a signof little wit to delight in making mock of others. We have, forseveral stories, laughed amain at tricks that have been played uponfolk and whereof no vengeance is recorded to have been taken; but Ipurpose now to cause you have some compassion of a just retributionwreaked upon a townswoman of ours, on whose head her own cheatrecoiled and was retorted well nigh unto death; and the hearing ofthis will not be without profit unto you, for that henceforward youwill the better keep yourselves from making mock of others, and inthis you will show great good sense.
Not many years ago there was in Florence, a young lady, by name Elena,fair of favour and haughty of humour, of very gentle lineage andendowed with sufficient abundance of the goods of fortune, who, beingwidowed of her husband, chose never to marry again, for that she wasenamoured of a handsome and agreeable youth of her own choice, andwith the aid of a maid of hers, in whom she put great trust, beingquit of every other care, she often with marvellous delight gaveherself a good time with him. In these days it chanced that a younggentleman of our city, by name Rinieri, having long studied in Paris,not for the sake of after selling his knowledge by retail, as many do,but to know the nature of things and their causes, the whichexcellently becometh a gentleman, returned thence to Florence andthere lived citizen-fashion, much honoured as well for his nobility asfor his learning. But, as it chanceth often that those, who have themost experience of things profound, are the soonest snared of love,even so it befell this Rinieri; for, having one day repaired, by wayof diversion, to an entertainment, there presented herself before hiseyes the aforesaid Elena, clad all in black, as our widows go, andfull, to his judgment, of such beauty and pleasantness as himseemed hehad never beheld in any other woman; and in his heart he deemed thathe might call himself blest whom God should vouchsafe to hold hernaked in his arms. Then, furtively considering her once and again andknowing that great things and precious were not to be acquired withouttravail, he altogether determined in himself to devote all his painsand all his diligence to the pleasing her, to the end that thereby hemight gain her love and so avail to have his fill of her.
The young lady, (who kept not her eyes fixed upon the nether world,but, conceiting herself as much and more than as much as she was,moved them artfully hither and thither, gazing all about, and wasquick to note who delighted to look upon her,) soon became aware ofRinieri and said, laughing, in herself, 'I have not come hither invain to-day; for, an I mistake not, I have caught a woodcock by thebill.' Accordingly, she fell to ogling him from time to time with thetail of her eye and studied, inasmuch as she might, to let him seethat she took note of him, thinking that the more men she allured andensnared with her charms, so much the more of price would her beautybe, especially to him on whom she had bestowed it, together with herlove. The learned scholar, laying aside philosophical speculations,turned all his thoughts to her and thinking to please her, enquiredwhere she lived and proceeded to pass to and fro before her house,colouring his comings and goings with various pretexts, whilst thelady, idly glorying in this, for the reason already set out, madebelieve to take great pleasure in seeing him. Accordingly, he foundmeans to clap up an acquaintance with her maid and discovering to herhis love, prayed her make interest for him with her mistress, so hemight avail to have her favour. The maid promised freely and told thelady, who hearkened with the heartiest laughter in the world and said,'Seest thou where yonder man cometh to lose the wit he hath broughtback from Paris? Marry, we will give him that which he goeth seeking.An he bespeak thee again, do thou tell him that I love him far morethan he loveth me; but that it behoveth me look to mine honour, so Imay hold up my head with the other ladies; whereof and he be as wiseas folk say, he will hold me so much the dearer.' Alack, poor sillysoul, she knew not aright, ladies mine, what it is to try conclusionswith scholars. The maid went in search of Rinieri and finding him, didthat which had been enjoined her of her mistress, whereat he wasoverjoyed and proceeded to use more urgent entreaties, writing lettersand sending presents, all of which were accepted, but he got nothingbut vague and general answers; and on this wise she held him in play agreat while.
At last, to show her lover, to whom she had discovered everything andwho was whiles somewhat vexed with her for this and had conceived somejealousy of Rinieri, that he did wrong to suspect her thereof, shedespatched to the scholar, now grown very pressing, her maid, who toldhim, on her mistress's part, that she had never yet had an opportunityto do aught that might pleasure him since he had certified her of hislove, but that on the occasion of the festival of the Nativity shehoped to be able to be with him; wherefore, an it liked him, he wason the evening of the feast to come by night to her courtyard, whithershe would go for him as first she might. At this the scholar was thegladdest man alive and betook himself at the appointed time to hismistress's house, where he was carried by the maid into a courtyardand being there locked in, proceeded to wait the lady's coming. Thelatter had that evening sent for her lover and after she had suppedmerrily with him, she told him that which she purposed to do thatnight, adding, 'And thou mayst see for thyself what and how great isthe love I have borne and bear him of whom thou hast taken ajealousy.' The lover heard these words with great satisfaction and wasimpatient to see by the fact that which the lady gave him tounderstand with words.
It had by chance snowed hard during the day and everything was coveredwith snow, wherefore the scholar had not long abidden in the courtyardbefore he began to feel colder than he could have wished; but, lookingto recruit himself speedily, he was fain to endure it with patience.Presently, the lady said to her lover, 'Let us go look from a latticewhat yonder fellow, of whom thou art waxed jealous, doth and hear whathe shall answer the maid, whom I have sent to parley with him.'Accordingly, they betook themselves to a lattice and thence, seeing,without being seen, they heard the maid from another lattice bespeakthe scholar and say, 'Rinieri, my lady is the woefullest woman thatwas aye, for that there is one of her brothers come hither to-night,who hath talked much with her and after must needs sup with her, noris yet gone away; but methinketh he will soon be gone; wherefore shehath not been able to come to thee, but will soon come now and prayeththee not to take the waiting in ill part.' Rinieri, believing this tobe true, replied, 'Tell my lady to give herself no concern for me tillsuch time as she can at her commodity come to me, but bid her do thisas quickliest she may.' The maid turned back into the house and betookherself to bed, whilst the lady said to her gallant, 'Well, how saystthou? Thinkest thou that, an I wished him such weal as thou fearest, Iwould suffer him stand a-freezing down yonder?' So saying, she betookherself to bed with her lover, who was now in part satisfied, andthere they abode a great while in joyance and liesse, laughing andmaking mock of the wretched scholar, who fared to and fro the while inthe courtyard, making shift to warm himself with exercise, nor hadwhereas he might seat himself or shelter from the night-damp. Hecursed her brother's long stay with the lady and took everything heheard for the opening of a door to him by her, but hoped in vain.
The lady, having solaced herself with her lover till near uponmidnight, said to him, 'How deemest thou, my soul, of our scholar?Whether seemeth to thee the greater, his wit or the love I bear him?Will the cold which I presently cause him suffer do away from thy mindthe doubts which my pleasantries aroused therein the other day?'Whereto he rep
lied, 'Heart of my body, yes, I know right well that,like as thou art my good and my peace and my delight and all my hope,even so am I thine.' 'Then,' rejoined she, 'kiss me a thousand times,so I may see if thou say sooth.' Whereupon he clipped her fast in hisarms and kissed her not a thousand, but more than an hundred thousandtimes. Then, after they had abidden awhile in such discourse, the ladysaid, 'Marry, let us arise a little and go see if the fire is anydelespent, wherein this my new lover wrote me that he burnt all day long.'Accordingly, they arose and getting them to the accustomed lattice,looked out into the courtyard, where they saw the scholar dancing aright merry jig on the snow, so fast and brisk that never had theyseen the like, to the sound of the chattering of the teeth that hemade for excess of cold; whereupon quoth the lady, 'How sayst thou,sweet my hope? Seemeth to thee that I know how to make folk jig itwithout sound of trump or bagpipe?' Whereto he answered, laughing, 'Aydost thou, my chief delight.' Quoth the lady, 'I will that we go downto the door; thou shalt abide quiet, whilst I bespeak him, and weshall hear what he will say; belike we shall have no less diversionthereof than we had from seeing him.'
Accordingly, they softly opened the chamber and stole down to thedoor, where, without opening it anydele, the lady called to thescholar in a low voice by a little hole that was there. Rinierihearing himself called, praised God, taking it oversoon for grantedthat he was to be presently admitted, and coming up to the door, said,'Here am I, madam; open for God's sake, for I die of cold.' 'O ay,'replied the lady, 'I know thou art a chilly one; is then the cold soexceeding great, because, forsooth, there is a little snow about? Iwot the nights are much colder in Paris. I cannot open to thee yet,for that accursed brother of mine, who came to sup with me to-night,is not yet gone; but he will soon begone and I will come incontinentto open to thee. I have but now very hardly stolen away from him, thatI might come to exhort thee not to wax weary of waiting.' 'Alack,madam,' cried the scholar, 'I pray you for God's sake open to me, so Imay abide within under cover, for that this little while past there iscome on the thickest snow in the world and it yet snoweth, and I willwait for you as long as it shall please you.' 'Woe's me, sweet mytreasure,' replied the lady, 'that cannot I; for this door maketh sogreat a noise, whenas it is opened, that it would lightly be heard ofmy brother, if I should open to thee; but I will go bid him begone, soI may after come back and open to thee.' 'Then go quickly,' rejoinedhe; 'and I prithee let make a good fire, so I may warm me as soon as Icome in, for that I am grown so cold I can scarce feel myself.' Quoththe lady, 'That should not be possible, an that be true which thouhast many a time written me, to wit, that thou burnest for the love ofme. Now, I must go, wait and be of good heart.' Then, with her lover,who had heard all this with the utmost pleasure, she went back to bed,and that night they slept little, nay, they spent it well nigh all indalliance and delight and in making mock of Rinieri.
Meanwhile, the unhappy scholar (now well nigh grown a stork, so soredid his teeth chatter,) perceiving at last that he was befooled,essayed again and again to open the door and sought an he might notavail to issue thence by another way; but, finding no meansthereunto, he fell a-ranging to and fro like a lion, cursing thefoulness of the weather and the lady's malignity and the length of thenight, together with his own credulity; wherefore, being sore despitedagainst his mistress, the long and ardent love he had borne her wassuddenly changed to fierce and bitter hatred and he revolved inhimself many and various things, so he might find a means of revenge,the which he now desired far more eagerly than he had before desiredto be with the lady. At last, after much long tarriance, the nightdrew near unto day and the dawn began to appear; whereupon the maid,who had been lessoned by the lady, coming down, opened the courtyarddoor and feigning to have compassion of Rinieri, said, 'Bad luck mayhe have who came hither yestereve! He hath kept us all night uponthorns and hath caused thee freeze; but knowest thou what? Bear itwith patience, for that which could not be to-night shall be anothertime. Indeed, I know nought could have happened that had been sodispleasing to my lady.'
The despiteful scholar, like a wise man as he was, who knew thatthreats are but arms for the threatened, locked up in his breast thatwhich untempered will would fain have vented and said in a low voice,without anywise showing himself vexed, 'In truth I have had the worstnight I ever had; but I have well apprehended that the lady is nowiseto blame for this, inasmuch as she herself of her compassion for me,came down hither to excuse herself and to hearten me; and as thousayest, that which hath not been to-night shall be another time.Commend me to her and God be with thee.' Therewithal, well nigh starkwith cold, he made his way, as best he might, back to his house,where, being drowsed to death, he cast himself upon his bed to sleepand awoke well nigh crippled of his arms and legs; wherefore, sendingfor sundry physicians and acquainting them with the cold he hadsuffered, he caused take order for his cure. The leaches, plying himwith prompt and very potent remedies, hardly, after some time, availedto recover him of the shrinking of the sinews and cause them relax;and but that he was young and that the warm season came on, he hadovermuch to suffer. However, being restored to health and lustihead,he kept his hate to himself and feigned himself more than everenamoured of his widow.
Now it befell, after a certain space of time, that fortune furnishedhim with an occasion of satisfying his desire [for vengeance], forthat the youth beloved of the widow being, without any regard for thelove she bore him, fallen enamoured of another lady, would have norlittle nor much to say to her nor do aught to pleasure her, whereforeshe pined in tears and bitterness. But her maid, who had greatcompassion of her, finding no way of rousing her mistress from thechagrin into which the loss of her lover had cast her and seeing thescholar pass along the street, after the wonted manner, entered into afond conceit, to wit, that the lady's lover might be brought by somenecromantic operation or other to love her as he had been wont to doand that the scholar should be a past master in this manner of thing,and told her thought to her mistress. The latter, little wise, withoutconsidering that, had the scholar been acquainted with the black art,he would have practised it for himself, lent her mind to her maid'swords and bade her forthright learn from him if he would do it andgive him all assurance that, in requital thereof, she would dowhatsoever pleased him. The maid did her errand well and diligently,which when the scholar heard, he was overjoyed and said in himself,'Praised be Thou, my God! The time is come when with Thine aid I mayavail to make yonder wicked woman pay the penalty of the harm she didme in requital of the great love I bore her.' Then to the maid, 'Tellmy lady,' quoth he, 'that she need be in no concern for this, forthat, were her lover in the Indies, I would speedily cause him come toher and crave pardon of that which he hath done to displeasure her;but the means she must take to this end I purpose to impart toherself, when and where it shall most please her. So say to her andhearten her on my part.'
The maid carried his answer to her mistress and it was agreed thatthey should foregather at Santa Lucia del Prato, whither, accordingly,the lady, and the scholar being come and speaking together alone, she,remembering her not that she had aforetime brought him well nigh todeath's door, openly discovered to him her case and that which shedesired and besought him to succour her. 'Madam,' answered he, 'it istrue that amongst the other things I learned at Paris was necromancy,whereof for certain I know that which is extant thereof; but for thatthe thing is supremely displeasing unto God, I had sworn never topractise it either for myself or for others. Nevertheless, the love Ibear you is of such potency that I know not how I may deny you aughtthat you would have me do; wherefore, though it should behove me forthis alone go to the devil's stead, I am yet ready to do it, since itis your pleasure. But I must forewarn you that the thing is moreuneath to do than you perchance imagine, especially whenas a womanwould recall a man to loving her or a man a woman, for that thiscannot be done save by the very person unto whom it pertaineth; and itbehoveth that whoso doth it be of an assured mind, seeing it must bedone anights and in solitary places without company; which things
Iknow not how you are disposed to do.' The lady, more enamoured thandiscreet, replied, 'Love spurreth me on such wise that there isnothing I would not do to have again him who hath wrongfully forsakenme. Algates, an it please you, show me in what I must approve myselfassured of mind.' 'Madam,' replied the scholar, who had a patch of illhair to his tail,[385] 'I must make an image of pewter in his namewhom you desire to get again, which whenas I shall send you, it willbehove you seven times bathe yourself therewith, all naked, in arunning stream, at the hour of the first sleep, what time the moon isfar on the wane. Thereafter, naked as you are, you must get you upinto a tree or to the top of some uninhabited house and turning to thenorth, with the image in your hand, seven times running say certainwords which I shall give you written; which when you shall have done,there will come to you two of the fairest damsels you ever beheld, whowill salute you and ask you courteously what you would have done. Doyou well and throughly discover to them your desires and look itbetide you not to name one for another. As soon as you have told them,they will depart and you may then come down to the place where youshall have left your clothes and re-clothe yourself and return home;and for certain, ere it be the middle of the ensuing night, your loverwill come, weeping, to crave you pardon and mercy; and know that fromthat time forth he will never again leave you for any other.'
[Footnote 385: A proverbial way of saying that he bore malice and wasvindictive.]
The lady, hearing all this and lending entire faith thereto, was halfcomforted, herseeming she already had her lover again in her arms, andsaid, 'Never fear; I will very well do these things, and I havetherefor the finest commodity in the world; for I have, towards theupper end of the Val d'Arno, a farm, which is very near theriver-bank, and it is now July, so that bathing will be pleasant; moreby token that I mind me there is, not far from the stream, a littleuninhabited tower, save that the shepherds climb up bytimes, by aladder of chestnut-wood that is there, to a sollar at the top, to lookfor their strayed beasts: otherwise it is a very solitaryout-of-the-way[386] place. Thither will I betake myself and there Ihope to do that which you shall enjoin me the best in the world.' Thescholar, who very well knew both the place and the tower mentioned bythe lady, was rejoiced to be certified of her intent and said, 'Madam,I was never in these part and therefore know neither the farm nor thetower; but, an it be as you say, nothing in the world can be better.Wherefore, whenas it shall be time, I will send you the image and theconjuration; but I pray you instantly, whenas you shall have gottenyour desire and shall know I have served you well, that you be mindfulof me and remember to keep your promise to me.' She answered that shewould without fail do it and taking leave of him, returned to herhouse; whilst the scholar, rejoiced for that himseemed his desire waslike to have effect, made an image with certain talismanic charactersof his own devising, and wrote a rigmarole of his fashion, by way ofconjuration; the which, whenas it seemed to him time, he despatched tothe lady and sent to tell her that she must that very night, withoutmore tarriance, do that which he had enjoined her; after which hesecretly betook himself, with a servant of his, to the house of one ofhis friends who abode very near the tower, so he might give effect tohis design.
[Footnote 386: Lit. out of hand (_fuor di mano_).]
The lady, on her part, set out with her maid and repaired to her farm,where, as soon as the night was come, she made a show of going to bedand sent the maid away to sleep, but towards the hour of the firstsleep, she issued quietly forth of the house and betook herself to thebank of the Arno hard by the tower, where, looking first well allabout and seeing nor hearing any, she put off her clothes and hidingthem under a bush, bathed seven times with the image; after which,naked as she was, she made for the tower, image in hand. The scholar,who had, at the coming on of the night, hidden himself with hisservant among the willows and other trees near the tower and hadwitnessed all this, seeing her, as she passed thus naked close tohim, overcome the darkness of the night with the whiteness of her bodyand after considering her breast and the other parts of her person andseeing them fair, bethought himself what they should become in alittle while and felt some compassion of her; whilst, on the otherhand, the pricks of the flesh assailed him of a sudden and caused thatstand on end which erst lay prone, inciting him to issue forth of hisambush and go take her and do his will of her. Between the one and theother he was like to be overcome; but, calling to mind who he was andwhat the injury he had suffered and wherefore and at whose hands andhe being thereby rekindled in despite and compassion and carnalappetite banished, he abode firm in his purpose and let her go.
The lady, going up on to the tower and turning to the north, began torepeat the words given her by the scholar, who, coming quietly intothe tower awhile after, little by little removed the ladder, which ledto the sollar where she was, and after awaited that which she shoulddo and say. Meanwhile, the lady, having seven times said herconjuration, began to look for the two damsels and so long was herwaiting (more by token that she felt it cooler than she could havewished) that she saw the dawn appear; whereupon, woeful that it hadnot befallen as the scholar had told her, she said in herself, 'I fearme yonder man hath had a mind to give me a night such as that which Igave him; but, an that be his intent, he hath ill known to avengehimself, for that this night hath not been as long by a third as washis, forbye that the cold was of anothergates sort.' Then, so the daymight not surprise her there, she proceeded to seek to go down fromthe tower, but found the ladder gone; whereupon her courage forsookher, as it were the world had failed beneath her feet, and she felldown aswoon upon the platform of the tower. As soon as her sensereturned to her, she fell to weeping piteously and bemoaning herself,and perceiving but too well that this must have been the scholar'sdoing, she went on to blame herself for having affronted others andafter for having overmuch trusted in him whom she had good reason tobelieve her enemy; and on this wise she abode a great while. Then,looking if there were no way of descending and seeing none, she fellagain to her lamentation and gave herself up to bitter thought, sayingin herself, 'Alas, unhappy woman! What will be said of thy brothersand kinsfolk and neighbours and generally of all the people ofFlorence, when it shall be known that thou has been found here naked?Thy repute, that hath hitherto been so great, will be known to havebeen false; and shouldst thou seek to frame lying excuses for thyself,(if indeed there are any to be found) the accursed scholar, whoknoweth all thine affairs, will not suffer thee lie. Oh wretchedwoman, that wilt at one stroke have lost the youth so ill-fatedlybeloved and thine own honour!'
Therewithal she fell into such a passion of woe that she was like tocast herself down from the tower to the ground; but, the sun being nowrisen and she drawing near to one side of the walls of the tower, tolook if any boy should pass with cattle, whom she might send for hermaid, it chanced that the scholar, who had slept awhile at the footof a bush, awaking, saw her and she him; whereupon quoth he to her,'Good day, madam; are the damsels come yet?' The lady, seeing andhearing him, began afresh to weep sore and besought him to come withinthe tower, so she might speak with him. In this he was courteousenough to comply with her and she laying herself prone on the platformand showing only her head at the opening, said, weeping, 'Assuredly,Rinieri, if I gave thee an ill night, thou hast well avenged thyselfof me, for that, albeit it is July, I have thought to freeze thisnight, naked as I am, more by token that I have so sore bewept boththe trick I put upon thee and mine own folly in believing thee that itis a wonder I have any eyes left in my head. Wherefore I entreat thee,not for the love of me, whom thou hast no call to love, but for thelove of thyself, who are a gentleman, that thou be content, forvengeance of the injury I did thee, with that which thou hast alreadydone and cause fetch me my clothes and suffer me come down hence, norseek to take from me that which thou couldst not after restore me, anthou wouldst, to wit, my honour; for, if I took from thee the beingwith me that night, I can render thee many nights for that one,whenassoever it liketh thee. Let this, then, suffice and let itcontent thee, as a man of honour, to
have availed to avenge thyselfand to have caused me confess it. Seek not to use thy strength againsta woman; no glory is it for an eagle to have overcome a dove,wherefore, for the love of God and thine own honour, have pity on me.'
The scholar, with stern mind revolving in himself the injury sufferedand seeing her weep and beseech, felt at once both pleasure and annoy;pleasure in the revenge which he had desired more than aught else, andannoy he felt, for that his humanity moved him to compassion of theunhappy woman. However, humanity availing not to overcome thefierceness of his appetite [for vengeance], 'Madam Elena,' answeredhe, 'if my prayers (which, it is true, I knew not to bathe with tearsnor to make honeyed, as thou presently knowest to proffer thine,) hadavailed, the night when I was dying of cold in thy snow-filledcourtyard, to procure me to be put of thee but a little under cover,it were a light matter to me to hearken now unto thine; but, if thoube presently so much more concerned for thine honour than in the pastand it be grievous to thee to abide up there naked, address these thyprayers to him in whose arms thou didst not scruple, that night whichthou thyself recallest, to abide naked, hearing me the while go aboutthy courtyard, chattering with my teeth and trampling the snow, andget thee succour of him; cause him fetch thee thy clothes and set theethe ladder, whereby thou mayest descend, and study to inform him withtenderness for thine honour, the which thou hast not scrupled both nowand a thousand other times to imperil for him. Why dost thou not callhim to come help thee? To whom pertaineth it more than unto him? Thouart his; and what should he regard or succour, an he regard notneither succour thee? Call him, silly woman that thou art, and proveif the love thou bearest him and thy wits and his together can availto deliver thee from my folly, whereof, dallying with him the while,thou questionedst aforetime whether himseemed the greater, my folly orthe love thou borest him.[387] Thou canst not now be lavish to me ofthat which I desire not, nor couldst thou deny it to me, an I desiredit; keep thy nights for thy lover, an it chance that thou come offhence alive; be they thine and his. I had overmuch of one of them andit sufficeth me to have been once befooled. Again, using thy craft andwiliness in speech, thou studiest, by extolling me, to gain mygoodwill and callest me a gentleman and a man of honour, thinking thusto cajole me into playing the magnanimous and forebearing to punishthee for thy wickedness; but thy blandishments shall not now darken methe eyes of the understanding, as did thy disloyal promises whilere. Iknow myself, nor did I learn so much of myself what while I sojournedat Paris as thou taughtest me in one single night of thine. But,granted I were indeed magnanimous, thou art none of those towards whommagnanimity should be shown; the issue of punishment, as likewise ofvengeance, in the case of wild beasts such as thou art, behoveth to bedeath, whereas for human beings that should suffice whereof thouspeakest. Wherefore, albeit I am no eagle, knowing thee to be no dove,but a venomous serpent, I mean to pursue thee, as an immemorial enemy,with every hate and all my might, albeit this that I do to thee canscarce properly be styled vengeance, but rather chastisement, inasmuchas vengeance should overpass the offence and this will not attainthereto; for that, an I sought to avenge myself, considering to what apass thou broughtest my soul, thy life, should I take it from thee,would not suffice me, no, nor the lives of an hundred others such asthou, since, slaying thee, I should but slay a vile, wicked andworthless trull of a woman. And what a devil more account (settingaside this thy scantling of fair favour,[388] which a few years willmar, filling it with wrinkles,) art thou than whatsoever other sorryserving-drab? Whereas it was no fault of thine that thou failedst ofcausing the death of a man of honour, as thou styledst me but now,whose life may yet in one day be of more service to the world than anhundred thousand of thy like could be what while the world endureth. Iwill teach thee, then, by means of this annoy that thou sufferest,what it is to flout men of sense, and particularly scholars, and willgive thee cause never more, an thou comest off alive, to fall intosuch a folly. But, an thou have so great a wish to descend, why dostthou not cast thyself down? On this wise, with God's help, thou wilt,by breaking thy neck, at once deliver thyself from the torment,wherein it seemeth to thee thou art, and make me the joyfullest man inthe world. Now, I have no more to say to thee. I knew to contrive onsuch wise that I caused thee go up thither; do thou now contrive tocome down thence, even as thou knewest to befool me.'
[Footnote 387: Boccaccio here misquotes himself. See p. 389, where thelady says to her lover, "Whether seemeth to thee the greater, his witor the love I bear him?" This is only one of the numberless instancesof negligence and inconsistency which occur in the Decameron and whichmake it evident to the student that it must have passed into the handsof the public without the final revision and correction by the author,that _limae labor_ without which no book is complete and which isespecially necessary in the case of such a work as the present, whereBoccaccio figures as the virtual creator of Italian prose.]
[Footnote 388: Lit. face, aspect (_viso_).]
What while the scholar spoke thus, the wretched lady wept withoutceasing and the time lapsed by, the sun still rising high and higher;but, when she saw that he was silent, she said, 'Alack, cruel man, ifthe accursed night was so grievous to thee and if my default seem tothee so heinous a thing that neither my young beauty nor my bittertears and humble prayers may avail to move thee to any pity, at leastlet this act of mine alone some little move thee and abate the rigourof thy rancour, to wit, that I but now trusted in thee and discoveredto thee mine every secret, opening withal to thy desire a way wherebythou mightest avail to make me cognizant of my sin; more by tokenthat, except I had trusted in thee, thou hadst had no means ofavailing to take of me that vengeance, which thou seemest to have soardently desired. For God's sake, leave thine anger and pardon mehenceforth; I am ready, so thou wilt but forgive me and bring me downhence, altogether to renounce yonder faithless youth and to have theealone to lover and lord, albeit thou decriest my beauty, avouching itshort-lived and little worth; natheless, whatever it be, compared withthat of other women, yet this I know, that, if for nought else, it isto be prized for that it is the desire and pastime and delight ofmen's youth, and thou art not old. And albeit I am cruelly entreatedof thee, I cannot believe withal that thou wouldst fain see me die sounseemly a death as were the casting myself down from this tower, asin desperation, before thine eyes, wherein, an thou was not a liar asthou are since become, I was erst so pleasing. Alack, have ruth on mefor God's sake and pity's! The sun beginneth to wax hot, and like asthe overmuch cold irked me this night, even so doth the heat begin todo me sore annoy.'
The scholar, who held her in parley for his diversion, answered,'Madam, thou hast not presently trusted thine honour in my hands forany love that thou borest me, but to regain him whom thou hast lost,wherefore it meriteth but greater severity, and if thou think thatthis way alone was apt and opportune unto the vengeance desired of me,thou thinkest foolishly; I had a thousand others; nay, whilst feigningto love thee, I had spread a thousand snares about thy feet, and itwould not have been long, had this not chanced, ere thou must ofnecessity have fallen into one of them, nor couldst thou have falleninto any but it had caused thee greater torment and shame than thispresent, the which I took, not to ease thee, but to be the quickliersatisfied. And though all else should have failed me, the pen hadstill been left me, wherewithal I would have written such and so manythings of thee and after such a fashion that, whenas thou camest (asthou wouldst have come) to know of them, thou wouldst a thousand timesa day have wished thyself never born. The power of the pen is fargreater than they imagine who have not proved it with experience. Iswear to God (so may He gladden me to the end of this vengeance that Itake of thee, even as He hath made me glad thereof in the beginning!)that I would have written such things of thee, that, being ashamed,not to say before other folk, but before thine own self, thou shouldsthave put out thine own eyes, not to see thyself in the glass;wherefore let not the little rivulet twit the sea with having causedit wax. Of thy love or that thou be mine, I reck not, as I havealready said, a jot; be
thou e'en his, an thou may, whose thou wasterst and whom, as I once hated, so at this present I love, havingregard unto that which he hath wrought towards thee of late. You womengo falling enamoured of young springalds and covet their love, forthat you see them somewhat fresher of colour and blacker of beard andthey go erect and jaunty and dance and joust, all which things theyhave had who are somewhat more in years, ay, and these know that whichthose have yet to learn. Moreover, you hold them better cavaliers anddeem that they fare more miles in a day than men of riper age. Certes,I confess that they jumble a wench's furbelows more briskly; but thosemore in years, being men of experience, know better where the fleasstick, and little meat and savoury is far and away rather to be chosenthan much and insipid, more by token that hard trotting undoth andwearieth folk, how young soever they be, whereas easy going, thoughbelike it bring one somewhat later to the inn, at the least carriethhim thither unfatigued. You women perceive not, animals withoutunderstanding that you are, how much ill lieth hid under thisscantling of fair seeming. Young fellows are not content with onewoman; nay, as many as they see, so many do they covet and of so manythemseemeth they are worthy; wherefore their love cannot be stable,and of this thou mayst presently of thine own experience bear verytrue witness. Themseemeth they are worthy to be worshipped andcaressed of their mistresses and they have no greater glory than tovaunt them of those whom they have had; the which default of theirshath aforetime cast many a woman into the arms of the monks, who tellno tales. Albeit thou sayst that never did any know of thine amours,save thy maid and myself, thou knowest it ill and believest awry, anthou think thus. His[389] quarter talketh well nigh of nothing else,and thine likewise; but most times the last to whose ears such thingscome is he to whom they pertain. Young men, to boot, despoil you,whereas it is given you[390] of men of riper years. Since, then, thouhast ill chosen, be thou his to whom thou gavest thyself and leave me,of whom thou madest mock, to others, for that I have found a mistressof much more account than thou, who hath been wise enough to know mebetter than thou didst. And that thou mayst carry into the other worldgreater assurance of the desire of mine eyes than meseemeth thougatherest from my words, do but cast thyself down forthright and thysoul, being, as I doubt not it will be, straightway received into thearms of the devil, will be able to see if mine eyes be troubled or notat seeing thee fall headlong. But, as medoubteth thou wilt not consentto do me so much pleasure, I counsel thee, if the sun begin to scorchthee, remember thee of the cold thou madest me suffer, which an thoumingle with the heat aforesaid, thou wilt without fail feel the sunattempered.'
[Footnote 389: _i.e._ thy lover's.]
[Footnote 390: _V'e donato_, _i.e._ young lovers look to receive giftsof their mistresses, whilst those of more mature age bestow them.]
The disconsolate lady, seeing that the scholar's words tended to acruel end, fell again to weeping and said, 'Harkye, since nothing Ican say availeth to move thee to pity of me, let the love move thee,which thou bearest that lady whom thou hast found wiser than I and ofwhom thou sayst thou art beloved, and for the love of her pardon meand fetch me my clothes, so I may dress myself, and cause me descendhence.' Therewith the scholar began to laugh and seeing that tiercewas now passed by a good hour, replied, 'Marry, I know not how to saythee nay, since thou conjurest me by such a lady; tell me where thyclothes are and I will go for them and help thee come down from upyonder.' The lady, believing this, was somewhat comforted and showedhim where she had laid her clothes; whereupon he went forth of thetower and bidding his servant not depart thence, but abide near athand and watch as most he might that none should enter there till suchtime as he should return, went off to his friend's house, where hedined at his ease and after, whenas himseemed time, betook himself tosleep; whilst the lady, left upon the tower, albeit some littleheartened with fond hope, natheless beyond measure woebegone, sat upand creeping close to that part of the wall where there was a littleshade, fell a-waiting, in company of very bitter thoughts. There sheabode, now hoping and now despairing of the scholar's return with herclothes, and passing from one thought to another, she presently fellasleep, as one who was overcome of dolour and who had slept no whitthe past night.
The sun, which was exceeding hot, being now risen to the meridian,beat full and straight upon her tender and delicate body and upon herhead, which was all uncovered, with such force that not only did itburn her flesh, wherever it touched it, but cracked and opened it allover little by little, and such was the pain of the burning that itconstrained her to awake, albeit she slept fast. Feeling herself onthe roast and moving somewhat, it seemed as if all her scorched skincracked and clove asunder for the motion, as we see happen with ascorched sheepskin, if any stretch it, and to boot her head irked herso sore that it seemed it would burst, which was no wonder. And theplatform of the tower was so burning hot that she could find norestingplace there either for her feet or for otherwhat; wherefore,without standing fast, she still removed now hither and now thither,weeping. Moreover, there being not a breath of wind, the flies andgads flocked thither in swarms and settling upon her cracked flesh,stung her so cruelly that each prick seemed to her a pike-stab;wherefore she stinted not to fling her hands about, still cursingherself, her life, her lover and the scholar.
Being thus by the inexpressible heat of the sun, by the flies and thegads and likewise by hunger, but much more by thirst, and by athousand irksome thoughts, to boot, tortured and stung and pierced tothe quick, she started to her feet and addressed herself to look ifshe might see or hear any one near at hand, resolved, whatever mightbetide thereof, to call him and crave aid. But of this resource alsohad her unfriendly fortune deprived her. The husbandmen were alldeparted from the fields for the heat, more by token that none hadcome that day to work therenigh, they being all engaged in threshingout their sheaves beside their houses; wherefore she heard nought butcrickets and saw the Arno, which latter sight, provoking in her desireof its waters, abated not her thirst, but rather increased it. Inseveral places also she saw thickets and shady places and houses hereand there, which were all alike to her an anguish for desire of them.What more shall we say of the ill-starred lady? The sun overhead andthe heat of the platform underfoot and the stings of the flies andgads on every side had so entreated her that, whereas with herwhiteness she had overcome the darkness of the foregoing night, shewas presently grown red as ruddle,[391] and all bescabbed as she waswith blood, had seemed to whoso saw her the foulest thing in theworld.
[Footnote 391: Lit. red as rabies (_rabbia_). Some commentatorssuppose that Boccaccio meant to write _robbia_, madder.]
As she abode on this wise, without aught of hope or counsel,[392]expecting death more than otherwhat, it being now past half none, thescholar, arising from sleep and remembering him of his mistress,returned to the tower, to see what was come of her, and sent hisservant, who was yet fasting, to eat. The lady, hearing him, came, allweak and anguishful as she was for the grievous annoy she hadsuffered, overagainst the trap-door and seating herself there, began,weeping, to say, 'Indeed, Rinieri, thou hast beyond measure avengedthyself, for, if I made thee freeze in my courtyard by night, thouhast made me roast, nay burn, on this tower by day and die of hungerand thirst to boot; wherefore I pray thee by the One only God thatthou come up hither and since my heart suffereth me not give myselfdeath with mine own hands, give it me thou, for that I desire it morethan aught else, such and so great are the torments I endure. Or, anthou wilt not do me that favour, let bring me, at the least, a cup ofwater, so I may wet my mouth, whereunto my tears suffice not; so soreis the drouth and the burning that I have therein.'
[Footnote 392: _i.e._ resource (_consiglio_). See ante, passim.]
The scholar knew her weakness by her voice and eke saw, in part, herbody all burnt up of the sun; wherefore and for her humble prayersthere overcame him a little compassion of her; but none the less heanswered, 'Wicked woman, thou shalt not die by my hands; nay, by thineown shalt thou die, an thou have a mind thereto; and thou shalt haveof me as much water for
the allaying of thy heat as I had fire of theefor the comforting of my cold. This much I sore regret that, whereasit behoved me heal the infirmity of my cold with the heat of stinkingdung, that of thy heat will be healed with the coolth of odoriferousrose-water; and whereas I was like to lose both limbs and life, thou,flayed by this heat, wilt abide fair none otherwise than doth thesnake, casting its old skin.' 'Alack, wretch that I am,' cried thelady, 'God give beauties on such wise acquired to those who wish meill! But thou, that are more cruel than any wild beast, how couldstthou have the heart to torture me after this fashion? What more couldI expect from thee or any other, if I had done all thy kinsfolk todeath with the cruellest torments? Certes, meknoweth not what greatercruelty could be wreaked upon a traitor who had brought a whole cityto slaughter than that whereto thou hast exposed me in causing me tobe roasted of the sun and devoured of the flies and withal denying mea cup of water, whenas to murderers condemned of justice isoftentimes, as they go to their death, given to drink of wine, so butthey ask it. Nay, since I see thee abide firm in thy savage crueltyand that my sufferance availeth not anywise to move thee, I willresign myself with patience to receive death, so God, whom I beseechto look with equitable eyes upon this thy dealing, may have mercy uponmy soul.'
So saying, she dragged herself painfully to the midward of theplatform, despairing to escape alive from so fierce a heat; and notonce, but a thousand times, over and above her other torments, shethought to swoon for thirst, still weeping and bemoaning her illhap.However, it being now vespers and it seeming to the scholar he haddone enough, he caused his servant take up the unhappy lady's clothesand wrap them in his cloak; then, betaking himself to her house, hefound her maid seated before the door, sad and disconsolate andunknowing what to do, and said to her, 'Good woman, what is come ofthy mistress?' 'Sir,' replied she, 'I know not. I thought to find herthis morning in the bed whither meseemed I saw her betake herselfyesternight; but I can find her neither there nor otherwhere and knownot what is come of her; wherefore I suffer the utmost concern. Butyou, sir, can you not tell me aught of her?' Quoth he, 'Would I hadhad thee together with her whereas I have had her, so I might havepunished thee of thy default, like as I have punished her for hers!But assuredly thou shalt not escape from my hands, ere I have so paidthee for thy dealings that thou shalt never more make mock of any man,without remembering thee of me.' Then to his servant, 'Give her theclothes,' quoth he, 'and bid her go to her mistress, an she will.' Theman did his bidding and gave the clothes to the maid, who, knowingthem and hearing what Rinieri said, was sore afraid lest they shouldhave slain her mistress and scarce refrained from crying out; then,the scholar being done, she set out with the clothes for the tower,weeping the while.
Now it chanced that one of the lady's husbandmen had that day lost twoof his swine and going in search of them, came, a little after thescholar's departure, to the tower. As he went spying about everywhereif he should see his hogs, he heard the piteous lamentation made ofthe miserable lady and climbing up as most he might, cried out, 'Whomaketh moan there aloft?' The lady knew her husbandman's voice andcalling him by name, said to him, 'For God's sake, fetch me my maidand contrive so she may come up hither to me.' Whereupon quoth theman, recognizing her, 'Alack, madam, who hath brought you up yonder?Your maid hath gone seeking you all day; but who had ever thought youcould be here?' Then, taking the ladder-poles, he set them up in theirplace and addressed himself to bind the cross-staves thereto withwithy bands.[393] Meanwhile, up came the maid, who no sooner enteredthe tower than, unable any longer to hold her tongue, she fell tocrying out, buffeting herself the while with her hands, 'Alack, sweetmy lady, where are you?' The lady, hearing her, answered as loudliestshe might, 'O sister mine, I am here aloft. Weep not, but fetch me myclothes quickly.' When the maid heard her speak, she was in a mannerall recomforted and with the husbandman's aid, mounting the ladder,which was now well nigh repaired, reached the sollar, where, whenasshe saw her lady lying naked on the ground, all forspent and wan, moreas she were a half-burnt log than a human being, she thrust her nailsinto her own face and fell a-weeping over her, no otherwise than asshe had been dead.
[Footnote 393: Boccaccio appears to have forgotten to mention thatRinieri had broken the rounds of the ladder, when he withdrew it (asstated, p. 394), apparently to place an additional obstacle in the wayof the lady's escape.]
The lady besought her for God's sake be silent and help her dressherself, and learning from her that none knew where she had been savethose who had carried her the clothes and the husbandman therepresent, was somewhat comforted and prayed them for God's sake neverto say aught of the matter to any one. Then, after much parley, thehusbandman, taking the lady in his arms, for that she could not walk,brought her safely without the tower; but the unlucky maid, who hadremained behind, descending less circumspectly, made a slip of thefoot and falling from the ladder to the ground, broke her thigh,whereupon she fell a-roaring for the pain, that it seemed a lion. Thehusbandman, setting the lady down on a plot of grass, went to see whatailed the maid and finding her with her thigh broken, carried her alsoto the grass-plat and laid her beside her mistress, who, seeing thisbefallen in addition to her other troubles and that she had broken herthigh by whom she looked to have been succoured more than by any else,was beyond measure woebegone and fell a-weeping afresh and sopiteously that not only could the husbandman not avail to comfort her,but himself fell a-weeping like wise. But presently, the sun being nowlow, he repaired, at the instance of the disconsolate lady, lest thenight should overtake them there, to his own house, and there calledhis wife and two brothers of his, who returned to the tower with aplank and setting the maid thereon, carried her home, whilst hehimself, having comforted the lady with a little cold water and kindwords, took her up in his arms and brought her to her own chamber.
His wife gave her a wine-sop to eat and after, undressing her, put herto bed; and they contrived that night to have her and her maid carriedto Florence. There, the lady, who had shifts and devices great plenty,framed a story of her fashion, altogether out of conformity with thatwhich had passed, and gave her brothers and sisters and every one elseto believe that this had befallen herself and her maid by dint ofdiabolical bewitchments. Physicians were quickly at hand, who, notwithout putting her to very great anguish and vexation, recovered thelady of a sore fever, after she had once and again left her skinsticking to the sheets, and on like wise healed the maid of her brokenthigh. Wherefore, forgetting her lover, from that time forth shediscreetly forbore both from making mock of others and from loving,whilst the scholar, hearing that the maid had broken her thigh, heldhimself fully avenged and passed on, content, without saying otherwhatthereof. Thus, then, did it befall the foolish young lady of herpranks, for that she thought to fool it with a scholar as she wouldhave done with another, unknowing that scholars,--I will not say all,but the most part of them,--know where the devil keepeth his tail.Wherefore, ladies, beware of making mock of folk, and especially ofscholars."
The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio Page 87