The Decameron, Volume II

by Giovanni Boccaccio

she could, she threw her arms about him, andhugged him; nor, for aught that any said or did, could she be induced torelease his neck, until Messer Torello himself bade her forbear a while,for that she would have time enough to kiss him thereafter. The lady thenstood up, and for a while all was disorder, albeit the feast was yet moregladsome than before by reason of the recovery of so honourable a knight:then, at Messer Torello's entreaty, all were silent, while he recountedto them the story of his adventures from the day of his departure to thathour, concluding by saying that the gentleman who, deeming him to bedead, had taken his lady to wife, ought not to be affronted, if he, beingalive, reclaimed her. The bridegroom, albeit he was somewhat crestfallen,made answer in frank and friendly sort, that 'twas for Messer Torello todo what he liked with his own. The lady resigned the ring and the crownthat her new spouse had given her, and put on the ring she had taken fromthe cup, and likewise the crown sent her by the Soldan; and so, forththey hied them, and with full nuptial pomp wended their way to MesserTorello's house; and there for a great while they made merry with hislate disconsolate friends and kinsfolk and all the citizens, whoaccounted his restoration as little short of a miracle.

  Messer Torello, having bestowed part of his rare jewels upon him who hadborne the cost of the wedding-feast, and part on the abbot, and manyother folk; and having by more than one messenger sent word of his safehome-coming and prosperous estate to Saladin, acknowledging himself everhis friend and vassal, lived many years thereafter with his worthy lady,acquitting himself yet more courteously than of yore. Such, then, was theend of the troubles of Messer Torello and his dear lady, and such thereward of their cheerful and ready courtesies.

  Now some there are that strive to do offices of courtesy, and have themeans, but do them with so ill a grace, that, ere they are done, theyhave in effect sold them at a price above their worth: wherefore, if noreward ensue to them thereof, neither they nor other folk have cause tomarvel.

  NOVEL X.

  --The Marquis of Saluzzo, overborne by the entreaties of his vassals,consents to take a wife, but, being minded to please himself in thechoice of her, takes a husbandman's daughter. He has two children by her,both of whom he makes her believe that he has put to death. Afterward,feigning to be tired of her, and to have taken another wife, he turns herout of doors in her shift, and brings his daughter into the house inguise of his bride; but, finding her patient under it all, he brings herhome again, and shews her her children, now grown up, and honours her,and causes her to be honoured, as Marchioness.--

  Ended the king's long story, with which all seemed to be very wellpleased, quoth Dioneo with a laugh:--"The good man that looked that nightto cause the bogey's tail to droop, would scarce have contributed twopennyworth of all the praise you bestow on Messer Torello:" then, wittingthat it now only remained for him to tell, thus he began:--Gentle myladies, this day, meseems, is dedicate to Kings and Soldans and folk ofthe like quality; wherefore, that I stray not too far from you, I amminded to tell you somewhat of a Marquis; certes, nought magnificent, buta piece of mad folly, albeit there came good thereof to him in the end.The which I counsel none to copy, for that great pity 'twas that itturned out well with him.

  There was in olden days a certain Marquis of Saluzzo, Gualtieri by name,a young man, but head of the house, who, having neither wife nor child,passed his time in nought else but in hawking and hunting, and of takinga wife and begetting children had no thought; wherein he should have beenaccounted very wise: but his vassals, brooking it ill, did oftentimesentreat him to take a wife, that he might not die without an heir, andthey be left without a lord; offering to find him one of such a pattern,and of such parentage, that he might marry with good hope, and be wellcontent with the sequel. To whom:--"My friends," replied Gualtieri, "youenforce me to that which I had resolved never to do, seeing how hard itis to find a wife, whose ways accord well with one's own, and howplentiful is the supply of such as run counter thereto, and how grievousa life he leads who chances upon a lady that matches ill with him. And tosay that you think to know the daughters by the qualities of theirfathers and mothers, and thereby--so you would argue--to provide me witha wife to my liking, is but folly; for I wot not how you may penetratethe secrets of their mothers so as to know their fathers; and grantedthat you do know them, daughters oftentimes resemble neither of theirparents. However, as you are minded to rivet these fetters upon me, I amcontent that so it be; and that I may have no cause to reproach any butmyself, should it turn out ill, I am resolved that my wife shall be of myown choosing; but of this rest assured, that, no matter whom I choose, ifshe receive not from you the honour due to a lady, you shall prove toyour great cost, how sorely I resent being thus constrained by yourimportunity to take a wife against my will."

  The worthy men replied that they were well content, so only he wouldmarry without more ado. And Gualtieri, who had long noted with approvalthe mien of a poor girl that dwelt on a farm hard by his house, and foundher fair enough, deemed that with her he might pass a tolerably happylife. Wherefore he sought no further, but forthwith resolved to marryher; and having sent for her father, who was a very poor man, hecontracted with him to take her to wife. Which done, Gualtieri assembledall the friends he had in those parts, and:--"My friends," quoth he, "youwere and are minded that I should take a wife, and rather to comply withyour wishes, than for any desire that I had to marry, I have made up mymind to do so. You remember the promise you gave me, to wit, that,whomsoever I should take, you would pay her the honour due to a lady.Which promise I now require you to keep, the time being come when I am tokeep mine. I have found hard by here a maiden after mine own heart, whomI purpose to take to wife, and to bring hither to my house in the courseof a few days. Wherefore bethink you, how you may make the nuptial feastsplendid, and welcome her with all honour; that I may confess myselfsatisfied with your observance of your promise, as you will be with myobservance of mine." The worthy men, one and all, answered with alacritythat they were well content, and that, whoever she might be, they wouldentreat her as a lady, and pay her all due honour as such. After which,they all addressed them to make goodly and grand and gladsome celebrationof the event, as did also Gualtieri. He arranged for a wedding moststately and fair, and bade thereto a goodly number of his friends andkinsfolk, and great gentlemen, and others, of the neighbourhood; andtherewithal he caused many a fine and costly robe to be cut and fashionedto the figure of a girl who seemed to him of the like proportions as thegirl that he purposed to wed; and laid in store, besides, of girdles andrings, with a costly and beautiful crown, and all the other paraphernaliaof a bride.

  The day that he had appointed for the wedding being come, about halftierce he got him to horse with as many as had come to do him honour, andhaving made all needful dispositions:--"Gentlemen," quoth he, "'tis timeto go bring home the bride." And so away he rode with his company to thevillage; where, being come to the house of the girl's father, they foundher returning from the spring with a bucket of water, making all thehaste she could, that she might afterwards go with the other women to seeGualtieri's bride come by. Whom Gualtieri no sooner saw, than he calledher by her name, to wit, Griselda, and asked her where her father was. Towhom she modestly made answer:--"My lord, he is in the house." WhereuponGualtieri dismounted, and having bidden the rest await him without,entered the cottage alone; and meeting her father, whose name wasGiannucolo:--"I am come," quoth he, "to wed Griselda, but first of allthere are some matters I would learn from her own lips in thy presence."He then asked her, whether, if he took her to wife, she would study tocomply with his wishes, and be not wroth, no matter what he might say ordo, and be obedient, with not a few other questions of a like sort: toall which she answered, ay. Whereupon Gualtieri took her by the hand, ledher forth, and before the eyes of all his company, and as many other folkas were there, caused her to strip naked, and let bring the garments thathe had had fashioned for her, and had her forthwith arrayed therein, andupon her unkempt head let set a crown; and then, while allwondered:--"Gentle
men," quoth he, "this is she whom I purpose to make mywife, so she be minded to have me for husband." Then, she standingabashed and astonied, he turned to her, saying:--"Griselda, wilt thouhave me for thy husband?" To whom:--"Ay, my lord," answered she. "And Iwill have thee to wife," said he, and married her before them all. Andhaving set her upon a palfrey, he brought her home with pomp.

  The wedding was fair and stately, and had he married a daughter of theKing of France, the feast could not have been more splendid. It seemed asif, with the change of her garb, the bride had acquired a new dignity ofmind and mien. She was, as we have said, fair of form and feature; andtherewithal she was now grown so engaging and gracious and debonair, thatshe shewed no longer as the shepherdess, and the daughter of Giannucolo,but as