The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio

by Giovanni Boccaccio

  _Day the First_

  HERE BEGINNETH THE FIRST DAY OF THE DECAMERON WHEREIN (AFTER DEMONSTRATION MADE BY THE AUTHOR OF THE MANNER IN WHICH IT CAME TO PASS THAT THE PERSONS WHO ARE HEREINAFTER PRESENTED FOREGATHERED FOR THE PURPOSE OF DEVISING TOGETHER) UNDER THE GOVERNANCE OF PAMPINEA IS DISCOURSED OF THAT WHICH IS MOST AGREEABLE UNTO EACH

  As often, most gracious ladies, as, taking thought in myself, I mindme how very pitiful you are all by nature, so often do I recognizethat this present work will, to your thinking, have a grievous and aweariful beginning, inasmuch as the dolorous remembrance of the latepestiferous mortality, which it beareth on its forefront, isuniversally irksome to all who saw or otherwise knew it. But I wouldnot therefore have this affright you from reading further, as if inthe reading you were still to fare among sighs and tears. Let thisgrisly beginning be none other to you than is to wayfarers a ruggedand steep mountain, beyond which is situate a most fair and delightfulplain, which latter cometh so much the pleasanter to them as thegreater was the hardship of the ascent and the descent; for, like asdolour occupieth the extreme of gladness, even so are miseriesdetermined by imminent joyance. This brief annoy (I say brief,inasmuch as it is contained in few pages) is straightway succeeded bythe pleasance and delight which I have already promised you and which,belike, were it not aforesaid, might not be looked for from such abeginning. And in truth, could I fairly have availed to bring you tomy desire otherwise than by so rugged a path as this will be I hadgladly done it; but being in a manner constrained thereto, for that,without this reminiscence of our past miseries, it might not be shownwhat was the occasion of the coming about of the things that willhereafter be read, I have brought myself to write them.[3]

  [Footnote 3: _i.e._ the few pages of which he speaks above.]

  I say, then, that the years [of the era] of the fruitful Incarnationof the Son of God had attained to the number of one thousand threehundred and forty-eight, when into the notable city of Florence, fairover every other of Italy, there came the death-dealing pestilence,which, through the operation of the heavenly bodies or of our owniniquitous dealings, being sent down upon mankind for our correctionby the just wrath of God, had some years before appeared in the partsof the East and after having bereft these latter of an innumerablenumber of inhabitants, extending without cease from one place toanother, had now unhappily spread towards the West. And thereagainstno wisdom availing nor human foresight (whereby the city was purged ofmany impurities by officers deputed to that end and it was forbiddenunto any sick person to enter therein and many were the counselsgiven[4] for the preservation of health) nor yet humblesupplications, not once but many times both in ordered processions andon other wise made unto God by devout persons,--about the coming in ofthe Spring of the aforesaid year, it began on horrible and miraculouswise to show forth its dolorous effects. Yet not as it had done in theEast, where, if any bled at the nose, it was a manifest sign ofinevitable death; nay, but in men and women alike there appeared, atthe beginning of the malady, certain swellings, either on the groin orunder the armpits, whereof some waxed of the bigness of a commonapple, others like unto an egg, some more and some less, and these thevulgar named plague-boils. From these two parts the aforesaiddeath-bearing plague-boils proceeded, in brief space, to appear andcome indifferently in every part of the body; wherefrom, after awhile,the fashion of the contagion began to change into black or lividblotches, which showed themselves in many [first] on the arms andabout the thighs and [after spread to] every other part of the person,in some large and sparse and in others small and thick-sown; and likeas the plague-boils had been first (and yet were) a very certain tokenof coming death, even so were these for every one to whom they came.

  [Footnote 4: Syn. provisions made or means taken (_consigli dati_).Boccaccio constantly uses _consiglio_ in this latter sense.]

  To the cure of these maladies nor counsel[5] of physician nor virtueof any medicine appeared to avail or profit aught; on thecontrary,--whether it was that the nature of the infection suffered itnot or that the ignorance of the physicians (of whom, over and abovethe men of art, the number, both men and women, who had never had anyteaching of medicine, was become exceeding great,) availed not to knowwhence it arose and consequently took not due measures thereagainst,--notonly did few recover thereof, but well nigh all died within the thirdday from the appearance of the aforesaid signs, this sooner and thatlater, and for the most part without fever or other accident.[6] Andthis pestilence was the more virulent for that, by communication withthose who were sick thereof, it gat hold upon the sound, no otherwisethan fire upon things dry or greasy, whenas they are brought very nearthereunto. Nay, the mischief was yet greater; for that not only didconverse and consortion with the sick give to the sound infection ofcause of common death, but the mere touching of the clothes or ofwhatsoever other thing had been touched or used of the sick appearedof itself to communicate the malady to the toucher. A marvellous thingto hear is that which I have to tell and one which, had it not beenseen of many men's eyes and of mine own, I had scarce dared credit,much less set down in writing, though I had heard it from one worthyof belief. I say, then, that of such efficience was the nature of thepestilence in question in communicating itself from one to another,that, not only did it pass from man to man, but this, which is muchmore, it many times visibly did;--to wit, a thing which had pertainedto a man sick or dead of the aforesaid sickness, being touched by ananimal foreign to the human species, not only infected this latterwith the plague, but in a very brief space of time killed it. Of thismine own eyes (as hath a little before been said) had one day, amongothers, experience on this wise; to wit, that the rags of a poor man,who had died of the plague, being cast out into the public way, twohogs came up to them and having first, after their wont, rooted amainamong them with their snouts, took them in their mouths and tossedthem about their jaws; then, in a little while, after turning roundand round, they both, as if they had taken poison, fell down dead uponthe rags with which they had in an ill hour intermeddled.

  [Footnote 5: Syn. help, remedy.]

  [Footnote 6: _Accidente_, what a modern physician would call"complication." "Symptom" does not express the whole meaning of theItalian word.]

  From these things and many others like unto them or yet strangerdivers fears and conceits were begotten in those who abode alive,which well nigh all tended to a very barbarous conclusion, namely, toshun and flee from the sick and all that pertained to them, and thusdoing, each thought to secure immunity for himself. Some there werewho conceived that to live moderately and keep oneself from all excesswas the best defence against such a danger; wherefore, making up theircompany, they lived removed from every other and shut themselves up inthose houses where none had been sick and where living was best; andthere, using very temperately of the most delicate viands and thefinest wines and eschewing all incontinence, they abode with music andsuch other diversions as they might have, never suffering themselvesto speak with any nor choosing to hear any news from without of deathor sick folk. Others, inclining to the contrary opinion, maintainedthat to carouse and make merry and go about singing and frolicking andsatisfy the appetite in everything possible and laugh and scoff atwhatsoever befell was a very certain remedy for such an ill. Thatwhich they said they put in practice as best they might, going aboutday and night, now to this tavern, now to that, drinking without stintor measure; and on this wise they did yet more freely in other folk'shouses, so but they scented there aught that liked or tempted them, asthey might lightly do, for that every one--as he were to live nolonger--had abandoned all care of his possessions, as of himself,wherefore the most part of the houses were become common good andstrangers used them, whenas they happened upon them, like as the veryowner might have done; and with all this bestial preoccupation, theystill shunned the sick to the best of their power.

  In this sore affliction and misery of our city, the reverend authorityof the laws, both human and divine, was all in a manner dissolved andfallen in
to decay, for [lack of] the ministers and executors thereof,who, like other men, were all either dead or sick or else left sodestitute of followers that they were unable to exercise any office,wherefore every one had license to do whatsoever pleased him. Manyothers held a middle course between the two aforesaid, not straiteningthemselves so exactly in the matter of diet as the first neitherallowing themselves such license in drinking and other debauchery asthe second, but using things in sufficiency, according to theirappetites; nor did they seclude themselves, but went about, carryingin their hands, some flowers, some odoriferous herbs and other somedivers kinds of spiceries,[7] which they set often to their noses,accounting it an excellent thing to fortify the brain with suchodours, more by token that the air seemed all heavy and attainted withthe stench of the dead bodies and that of the sick and of the remediesused.

  [Footnote 7: _i.e._ aromatic drugs.]

  Some were of a more barbarous, though, peradventure, a surer way ofthinking, avouching that there was no remedy against pestilencesbetter than--no, nor any so good as--to flee before them; wherefore,moved by this reasoning and recking of nought but themselves, verymany, both men and women, abandoned their own city, their own housesand homes, their kinsfolk and possessions, and sought the countryseats of others, or, at the least, their own, as if the wrath of God,being moved to punish the iniquity of mankind, would not proceed to doso wheresoever they might be, but would content itself with afflictingthose only who were found within the walls of their city, or as ifthey were persuaded that no person was to remain therein and that itslast hour was come. And albeit these, who opined thus variously, diednot all, yet neither did they all escape; nay, many of each way ofthinking and in every place sickened of the plague and languished onall sides, well nigh abandoned, having themselves, what while theywere whole, set the example to those who abode in health.

  Indeed, leaving be that townsman avoided townsman and that well nighno neighbour took thought unto other and that kinsfolk seldom or nevervisited one another and held no converse together save from afar, thistribulation had stricken such terror to the hearts of all, men andwomen alike, that brother forsook brother, uncle nephew and sisterbrother and oftentimes wife husband; nay (what is yet moreextraordinary and well nigh incredible) fathers and mothers refused tovisit or tend their very children, as they had not been theirs. Byreason whereof there remained unto those (and the number of them, bothmales and females, was incalculable) who fell sick, none other succourthan that which they owed either to the charity of friends (and ofthese there were few) or the greed of servants, who tended them,allured by high and extravagant wage; albeit, for all this, theselatter were not grown many, and those men and women of meanunderstanding and for the most part unused to such offices, who servedfor well nigh nought but to reach things called for by the sick or tonote when they died; and in the doing of these services many of themperished with their gain.

  Of this abandonment of the sick by neighbours, kinsfolk and friendsand of the scarcity of servants arose an usage before well nighunheard, to wit, that no woman, how fair or lovesome or well-bornsoever she might be, once fallen sick, recked aught of having a man totend her, whatever he might be, or young or old, and without any shamediscovered to him every part of her body, no otherwise than she wouldhave done to a woman, so but the necessity of her sickness requiredit; the which belike, in those who recovered, was the occasion oflesser modesty in time to come. Moreover, there ensued of thisabandonment the death of many who peradventure, had they beensuccoured, would have escaped alive; wherefore, as well for the lackof the opportune services which the sick availed not to have as forthe virulence of the plague, such was the multitude of those who diedin the city by day and by night that it was an astonishment to heartell thereof, much more to see it; and thence, as it were ofnecessity, there sprang up among those who abode alive things contraryto the pristine manners of the townsfolk.

  It was then (even as we yet see it used) a custom that the kinswomenand she-neighbours of the dead should assemble in his house and therecondole with those who more nearly pertained unto him, whilst hisneighbours and many other citizens foregathered with his next of kinbefore his house, whither, according to the dead man's quality, camethe clergy, and he with funeral pomp of chants and candles was borneon the shoulders of his peers to the church chosen by himself beforehis death; which usages, after the virulence of the plague began toincrease, were either altogether or for the most part laid aside, andother and strange customs sprang up in their stead. For that, not onlydid folk die without having a multitude of women about them, but manythere were who departed this life without witness and few indeed werethey to whom the pious plaints and bitter tears of their kinsfolk werevouchsafed; nay, in lieu of these things there obtained, for the mostpart, laughter and jests and gibes and feasting and merrymaking incompany; which usance women, laying aside womanly pitifulness, hadright well learned for their own safety.

  Few, again, were they whose bodies were accompanied to the church bymore than half a score or a dozen of their neighbours, and of these noworshipful and illustrious citizens, but a sort of blood-suckers,sprung from the dregs of the people, who styled themselves_pickmen_[8] and did such offices for hire, shouldered the bier andbore it with hurried steps, not to that church which the dead man hadchosen before his death, but most times to the nearest, behind five orsix[9] priests, with little light[10] and whiles none at all, whichlatter, with the aid of the said pickmen, thrust him into what gravesoever they first found unoccupied, without troubling themselves withtoo long or too formal a service.

  [Footnote 8: _i.e._ gravediggers (_becchini_).]

  [Footnote 9: Lit. _four_ or six. This is the equivalent Italianidiom.]

  [Footnote 10: _i.e._ but few tapers.]

  The condition of the common people (and belike, in great part, of themiddle class also) was yet more pitiable to behold, for that these,for the most part retained by hope[11] or poverty in their houses andabiding in their own quarters, sickened by the thousand daily andbeing altogether untended and unsuccoured, died well nigh all withoutrecourse. Many breathed their last in the open street, whilst othermany, for all they died in their houses, made it known to theneighbours that they were dead rather by the stench of their rottingbodies than otherwise; and of these and others who died all about thewhole city was full. For the most part one same usance was observed bythe neighbours, moved more by fear lest the corruption of the deadbodies should imperil themselves than by any charity they had for thedeparted; to wit, that either with their own hands or with the aid ofcertain bearers, whenas they might have any, they brought the bodiesof those who had died forth of their houses and laid them before theirdoors, where, especially in the morning, those who went about mightsee corpses without number; then they fetched biers and some, indefault thereof, they laid upon some board or other. Nor was it onlyone bier that carried two or three corpses, nor did this happen butonce; nay, many might have been counted which contained husband andwife, two or three brothers, father and son or the like. And aninfinite number of times it befell that, two priests going with onecross for some one, three or four biers, borne by bearers, rangedthemselves behind the latter,[12] and whereas the priests thought tohave but one dead man to bury, they had six or eight, and whiles more.Nor therefore were the dead honoured with aught of tears or candles orfuneral train; nay, the thing was come to such a pass that folk reckedno more of men that died than nowadays they would of goats; whereby itvery manifestly appeared that that which the natural course of thingshad not availed, by dint of small and infrequent harms, to teach thewise to endure with patience, the very greatness of their ills hadbrought even the simple to expect and make no account of. Theconsecrated ground sufficing not to the burial of the vast multitudeof corpses aforesaid, which daily and well nigh hourly came carried incrowds to every church,--especially if it were sought to give each hisown place, according to ancient usance,--there were made throughoutthe churchyards, after every other part was full, vast trenches,wherein those who ca
me after were laid by the hundred and being heapedup therein by layers, as goods are stowed aboard ship, were coveredwith a little earth, till such time as they reached the top of thetrench.

  [Footnote 11: _i.e._ expectation of gain from acting as tenders of thesick, gravediggers, etc. The word _speranza_ is, however, constantlyused by Dante and his follower Boccaccio in the contrary sense of"fear," and may be so meant in the present instance.]

  [Footnote 12: _i.e._ the cross.]

  Moreover,--not to go longer searching out and recalling everyparticular of our past miseries, as they befell throughout thecity,--I say that, whilst so sinister a time prevailed in the latter,on no wise therefor was the surrounding country spared, wherein,(letting be the castles,[13] which in their littleness[14] were likeunto the city,) throughout the scattered villages and in the fields,the poor and miserable husbandmen and their families, without succourof physician or aid of servitor, died, not like men, but well nighlike beasts, by the ways or in their tillages or about the houses,indifferently by day and night. By reason whereof, growing lax likethe townsfolk in their manners and customs, they recked not of anything or business of theirs; nay, all, as if they looked for deaththat very day, studied with all their wit, not to help to maturity thefuture produce of their cattle and their fields and the fruits oftheir own past toils, but to consume those which were ready to hand.Thus it came to pass that the oxen, the asses, the sheep, the goats,the swine, the fowls, nay, the very dogs, so faithful to mankind,being driven forth of their own houses, went straying at theirpleasure about the fields, where the very corn was abandoned, withoutbeing cut, much less gathered in; and many, well nigh like reasonablecreatures, after grazing all day, returned at night, glutted, to theirhouses, without the constraint of any herdsman.

  [Footnote 13: _i.e._ walled burghs.]

  [Footnote 14: _i.e._ in miniature.]

  To leave the country and return to the city, what more can be saidsave that such and so great was the cruelty of heaven (and in part,peradventure, that of men) that, between March and the following July,what with the virulence of that pestiferous sickness and the number ofsick folk ill tended or forsaken in their need, through thefearfulness of those who were whole, it is believed for certain thatupward of an hundred thousand human beings perished within the wallsof the city of Florence, which, peradventure, before the advent ofthat death-dealing calamity, had not been accounted to hold so many?Alas, how many great palaces, how many goodly houses, how many noblemansions, once full of families, of lords and of ladies, abode emptyeven to the meanest servant! How many memorable families, how manyample heritages, how many famous fortunes were seen to remain withoutlawful heir! How many valiant men, how many fair ladies, how manysprightly youths, whom, not others only, but Galen, Hippocrates orAEsculapius themselves would have judged most hale, breakfasted in themorning with their kinsfolk, comrades and friends and that same nightsupped with their ancestors in the other world!

  I am myself weary of going wandering so long among such miseries;wherefore, purposing henceforth to leave such part thereof as I canfitly, I say that,--our city being at this pass, well nigh void ofinhabitants,--it chanced (as I afterward heard from a person worthy ofcredit) that there foregathered in the venerable church of Santa MariaNovella, one Tuesday morning when there was well nigh none else there,seven young ladies, all knit one to another by friendship orneighbourhood or kinship, who had heard divine service in mourningattire, as sorted with such a season. Not one of them had passed hereight-and-twentieth year nor was less than eighteen years old, andeach was discreet and of noble blood, fair of favour and well-manneredand full of honest sprightliness. The names of these ladies I would inproper terms set out, did not just cause forbid me, to wit, that Iwould not have it possible that, in time to come, any of them shouldtake shame by reason of the things hereinafter related as being toldor hearkened by them, the laws of disport being nowadays somewhatstraitened, which at that time, for the reasons above shown, were ofthe largest, not only for persons of their years, but for those of amuch riper age; nor yet would I give occasion to the envious, who arestill ready to carp at every praiseworthy life, on anywise todisparage the fair fame of these honourable ladies with unseemly talk.Wherefore, so that which each saith may hereafterward be apprehendedwithout confusion, I purpose to denominate them by names altogether orin part sorting with each one's quality.[15] The first of them andher of ripest age I shall call Pampinea, the second Fiammetta, thethird Filomena and the fourth Emilia. To the fifth we will give thename of Lauretta, to the sixth that of Neifile and the last, notwithout cause, we will style Elisa.[16] These, then, not drawn of anyset purpose, but foregathering by chance in a corner of the church,having seated themselves in a ring, after divers sighs, let be thesaying of paternosters and fell to devising with one another many andvarious things of the nature of the time. After awhile, the othersbeing silent, Pampinea proceeded to speak thus:

  [Footnote 15: Or character (_qualita_).]

  [Footnote 16: I know of no explanation of these names by thecommentators, who seem, indeed, after the manner of their kind, tohave generally confined themselves to the elaborate illustration andelucidation (or rather, alas! too often, obscuration) of passagesalready perfectly plain, leaving the difficult passages for the mostpart untouched. The following is the best I can make of them._Pampinea_ appears to be formed from the Greek [Greek: pan], all, and[Greek: pinuo], I advise, admonish or inform, and to mean all-advisingor admonishing, which would agree well enough with the character ofPampinea, who is represented as the eldest and sagest of the femalepersonages of the Decameron and as taking the lead in everything._Fiammetta_ is the name by which Boccaccio designates his mistress,the Princess Maria of Naples (the lady for whom he cherished "the veryhigh and noble passion" of which he speaks in his Proem), in hisearlier opuscule, the "Elegia di Madonna Fiammetta," describing, inher name, the torments of separation from the beloved. In this work hespeaks of himself under the name of Pamfilo (Gr. [Greek: pan], all,and [Greek: phileo], I love, _i.e._ the all-loving or the passionatelover), and it is probable, therefore, that under these names heintended to introduce his royal ladylove and himself in the presentwork. _Filomena_ (Italian form of Philomela, a nightingale, Greek[Greek: philos] loving, and [Greek: melos], melody, song, _i.e._song-loving) is perhaps so styled for her love of music, and_Emilia's_ character, as it appears in the course of the work,justifies the derivation of her name from the Greek [Greek: aimylios],pleasing, engaging in manners and behaviour, cajoling. _Lauretta_Boccaccio probably intends us to look upon as a learned lady, if, aswe may suppose, her name is a corruption of _laureata_,laurel-crowned; whilst _Neifile's_ name (Greek [Greek: neios] [[Greek:neos]] new, and [Greek: phileo], I love, _i.e._ novelty-loving) stampsher as being of a somewhat curious disposition, eager "to tell or tohear some new thing." The name _Elisa_ is not so easily to beexplained as the others; possibly it was intended by the author as areminiscence of Dido, to whom the name (which is by some authoritiesexplained to mean "Godlike," from a Hebrew root) is said to have beengiven "quod plurima supra animi muliebris fortitudinem gesserit." Itdoes not, however, appear that there was in Elisa's character or lifeanything to justify the implied comparison.]

  "Dear my ladies, you may, like myself, have many times heard thatwhoso honestly useth his right doth no one wrong; and it is thenatural right of every one who is born here below to succour, keep anddefend his own life as best he may, and in so far is this allowed thatit hath happened whiles that, for the preservation thereof, men havebeen slain without any fault. If this much be conceded of the laws,which have in view the well-being of all mortals, how much more is itlawful for us and whatsoever other, without offence unto any, to takesuch means as we may for the preservation of our lives? As often as Iconsider our fashions of this morning and those of many other morningspast and bethink me what and what manner discourses are ours, I feel,and you likewise must feel, that each of us is in fear for herself.Nor do I anywise wonder at this; but I wonder exceedingly, considering
that we all have a woman's wit, that we take no steps to provideourselves against that which each of us justly feareth. We abide here,to my seeming, no otherwise than as if we would or should be witnessof how many dead bodies are brought hither for burial or to hearken ifthe friars of the place, whose number is come well nigh to nought,chant their offices at the due hours or by our apparel to show forthunto whosoever appeareth here the nature and extent of our distresses.If we depart hence, we either see dead bodies or sick persons carriedabout or those, whom for their misdeeds the authority of the publiclaws whilere condemned to exile, overrun the whole place with unseemlyexcesses, as if scoffing at the laws, for that they know the executorsthereof to be either dead or sick; whilst the dregs of our city,fattened with our blood, style themselves _pickmen_ and ruffle iteverywhere in mockery of us, riding and running all about and floutingus with our distresses in ribald songs. We hear nothing here but 'Suchan one is dead' or 'Such an one is at the point of death'; and werethere any to make them, we should hear dolorous lamentations on allsides. And if we return to our houses, I know not if it is with you aswith me, but, for my part, when I find none left therein of a greathousehold, save my serving-maid, I wax fearful and feel every hair ofmy body stand on end; and wherever I go or abide about the house,meseemeth I see the shades of those who are departed and who wear notthose countenances that I was used to see, but terrify me with ahorrid aspect, I know not whence newly come to them.

  By reason of these things I feel myself alike ill at ease here andabroad and at home, more by token that meseemeth none, who hath, as wehave, the power and whither to go, is left here, other than ourselves;or if any such there be, I have many a time both heard and perceivedthat, without making any distinction between things lawful andunlawful, so but appetite move them, whether alone or in company, bothday and night, they do that which affordeth them most delight. Nor isit the laity alone who do thus; nay, even those who are shut in themonasteries, persuading themselves that what befitteth and is lawfulto others alike sortable and unforbidden unto them,[17] have brokenthe laws of obedience and giving themselves to carnal delights,thinking thus to escape, are grown lewd and dissolute. If thus, then,it be, as is manifestly to be seen, what do we here? What look we for?What dream we? Why are we more sluggish and slower to provide for oursafety than all the rest of the townsfolk? Deem we ourselves of lessprice than others, or do we hold our life to be bounden in our bodieswith a stronger chain than is theirs and that therefore we need recknothing of aught that hath power to harm it? We err, we are deceived;what folly is ours, if we think thus! As often as we choose to call tomind the number and quality of the youths and ladies overborne of thiscruel pestilence, we may see a most manifest proof thereof.

  [Footnote 17: This phrase may also be read "persuading themselves thatthat (_i.e._ their breach of the laws of obedience, etc.) beseemeththem and is forbidden only to others" (_faccendosi a credere chequello a lor si convenga e non si disdica che all' altre_); but thereading in the text appears more in harmony with the general sense andis indeed indicated by the punctuation of the Giunta Edition of 1527,which I generally follow in case of doubt.]

  Wherefore, in order that we may not, through wilfulness ornonchalance, fall into that wherefrom we may, peradventure, an we butwill, by some means or other escape, I know not if it seem to you asit doth to me, but methinketh it were excellently well done that we,such as we are, depart this city, as many have done before us, andeschewing, as we would death, the dishonourable example of others,betake ourselves quietly to our places in the country, whereof each ofus hath great plenty, and there take such diversion, such delight andsuch pleasance as we may, without anywise overpassing the bounds ofreason. There may we hear the small birds sing, there may we see thehills and plains clad all in green and the fields full of corn waveeven as doth the sea; there may we see trees, a thousand sorts, andthere is the face of heaven more open to view, the which, angeredagainst us though it be, nevertheless denieth not unto us its eternalbeauties, far goodlier to look upon than the empty walls of our city.Moreover, there is the air far fresher[18] and there at this season ismore plenty of that which behoveth unto life and less is the sum ofannoys, for that, albeit the husbandmen die there, even as do thetownsfolk here, the displeasance is there the less, insomuch as housesand inhabitants are rarer than in the city.

  [Footnote 18: Syn. cooler.]

  Here, on the other hand, if I deem aright, we abandon no one; nay, wemay far rather say with truth that we ourselves are abandoned, seeingthat our kinsfolk, either dying or fleeing from death, have left usalone in this great tribulation, as it were we pertained not untothem. No blame can therefore befall the ensuing of this counsel; nay,dolour and chagrin and belike death may betide us, an we ensue it not.Wherefore, an it please you, methinketh we should do well to take ourmaids and letting follow after us with the necessary gear, sojournto-day in this place and to-morrow in that, taking such pleasance anddiversion as the season may afford, and on this wise abide till suchtime (an we be not earlier overtaken of death) as we shall see whatissue Heaven reserveth unto these things. And I would remind you thatit is no more forbidden unto us honourably to depart than it is untomany others of our sex to abide in dishonour."

  The other ladies, having hearkened to Pampinea, not only commended hercounsel, but, eager to follow it, had already begun to devise moreparticularly among themselves of the manner, as if, arising fromtheir session there, they were to set off out of hand. But Filomena,who was exceeding discreet, said, "Ladies, albeit that which Pampineaallegeth is excellently well said, yet is there no occasion forrunning, as meseemeth you would do. Remember that we are all women andnone of us is child enough not to know how [little] reasonable womenare among themselves and how [ill], without some man's guidance, theyknow how to order themselves. We are fickle, wilful, suspicious,faint-hearted and timorous, for which reasons I misdoubt me sore, anwe take not some other guidance than our own, that our company will befar too soon dissolved and with less honour to ourselves than wereseemly; wherefore we should do well to provide ourselves, ere webegin."

  "Verily," answered Elisa, "men are the head of women, and withouttheir ordinance seldom cometh any emprise of ours to good end; but howmay we come by these men? There is none of us but knoweth that of herkinsmen the most part are dead and those who abide alive are all gonefleeing that which we seek to flee, in divers companies, some here andsome there, without our knowing where, and to invite strangers wouldnot be seemly, seeing that, if we would endeavour after our welfare,it behoveth us find a means of so ordering ourselves that, wherever wego for diversion and repose, scandal nor annoy may ensue thereof."

  Whilst such discourse was toward between the ladies, behold, thereentered the church three young men,--yet not so young that the age ofthe youngest of them was less than five-and-twenty years,--in whomneither the perversity of the time nor loss of friends and kinsfolk,no, nor fear for themselves had availed to cool, much less to quench,the fire of love. Of these one was called Pamfilo,[19] anotherFilostrato[20] and the third Dioneo,[21] all very agreeable andwell-bred, and they went seeking, for their supreme solace, in such aperturbation of things, to see their mistresses, who, as it chanced,were all three among the seven aforesaid; whilst certain of the otherladies were near kinswomen of one or other of the young men.

  [Footnote 19: See ante, p. 8, note.]

  [Footnote 20: _Filostrato_, Greek [Greek: philos], loving, and [Greek:stratos], army, _met._ strife, war, _i.e._ one who loves strife. Thisname appears to be a reminiscence of Boccaccio's poem (_IlFilostrato_, well known through its translation by Chaucer and theSenechal d'Anjou) upon the subject of the loves of Troilus andCressida and to be in this instance used by him as a synonym for anunhappy lover, whom no rebuffs, no treachery can divert from hisill-starred passion. Such a lover may well be said to be in love withstrife, and that the Filostrato of the Decameron sufficiently answersto this description we learn later on from his own lips.]

  [Footnote 21: _Dioneo_, a name probably co
ined from the Greek [Greek:Dione], one of the _agnomina_ of Venus (properly her mother's name)and intended to denote the amorous temperament of his personage, towhich, indeed, the erotic character of most of the stories told by himbears sufficient witness.]

  No sooner had their eyes fallen on the ladies than they werethemselves espied of them; whereupon quoth Pampinea, smiling, "See,fortune is favourable to our beginnings and hath thrown in our wayyoung men of worth and discretion, who will gladly be to us bothguides and servitors, an we disdain not to accept of them in thatcapacity." But Neifile, whose face was grown all vermeil forshamefastness, for that it was she who was beloved of one of the youngmen, said, "For God's sake, Pampinea, look what thou sayest! Iacknowledge most frankly that there can be nought but all good said ofwhich one soever of them and I hold them sufficient unto a muchgreater thing than this, even as I opine that they would bear, notonly ourselves, but far fairer and nobler dames than we, good andhonourable company. But, for that it is a very manifest thing thatthey are enamoured of certain of us who are here, I fear lest, withoutour fault or theirs, scandal and blame ensue thereof, if we carry themwith us." Quoth Filomena, "That skilleth nought; so but I livehonestly and conscience prick me not of aught, let who will speak tothe contrary; God and the truth will take up arms for me. Wherefore,if they be disposed to come, verily we may say with Pampinea thatfortune is favourable to our going."

  The other ladies, hearing her speak thus absolutely, not only heldtheir peace, but all with one accord agreed that the young men shouldbe called and acquainted with their project and bidden to be pleasedbear them company in their expedition. Accordingly, without morewords, Pampinea, who was knit by kinship to one of them, rising to herfeet, made for the three young men, who stood fast, looking upon them,and saluting them with a cheerful countenance, discovered to themtheir intent and prayed them, on behalf of herself and her companions,that they would be pleased to bear them company in a pure andbrotherly spirit. The young men at the first thought themselvesbantered, but, seeing that the lady spoke in good earnest, they madeanswer joyfully that they were ready, and without losing time aboutthe matter, forthright took order for that which they had to doagainst departure.

  On the following morning, Wednesday to wit, towards break of day,having let orderly make ready all things needful and despatched themin advance whereas they purposed to go,[22] the ladies, with certainof their waiting-women, and the three young men, with as many of theirserving-men, departing Florence, set out upon their way; nor had theygone more than two short miles from the city, when they came to theplace fore-appointed of them, which was situate on a little hill,somewhat withdrawn on every side from the high way and full of variousshrubs and plants, all green of leafage and pleasant to behold. On thesummit of this hill was a palace, with a goodly and great courtyard inits midst and galleries[23] and saloons and bedchambers, each initself most fair and adorned and notable with jocund paintings, withlawns and grassplots round about and wonder-goodly gardens and wellsof very cold water and cellars full of wines of price, things more aptunto curious drinkers than unto sober and modest ladies. The newcomers, to their no little pleasure, found the place all swept and thebeds made in the chambers and every thing full of such flowers asmight be had at that season and strewn with rushes.

  [Footnote 22: _e prima mandato la dove_, etc. This passage is obscureand may be read to mean "and having first despatched [a messenger] (orsent [word]) whereas," etc. I think, however, that _mandato_ is acopyist's error for _mandata_, in which case the meaning would be asin the text.]

  [Footnote 23: Or balconies (_loggie_).]

  As soon as they had seated themselves, Dioneo, who was the merriestspringald in the world and full of quips and cranks, said, "Ladies,your wit, rather than our foresight, hath guided us hither, and I knownot what you purpose to do with your cares; as for my own, I left themwithin the city gates, whenas I issued thence with you awhile agone;wherefore, do you either address yourselves to make merry and laughand sing together with me (in so far, I mean, as pertaineth to yourdignity) or give me leave to go back for my cares and abide in theafflicted city." Whereto Pampinea, no otherwise than as if in likemanner she had banished all her own cares, answered blithely, "Dioneo,thou sayst well; it behoveth us live merrily, nor hath any otheroccasion caused us flee from yonder miseries. But, for that thingswhich are without measure may not long endure, I, who began thediscourse wherethrough this so goodly company came to be made, takingthought for the continuance of our gladness, hold it of necessity thatwe appoint some one to be principal among us, whom we may honour andobey as chief and whose especial care it shall be to dispose us tolive joyously. And in order that each in turn may prove the burden ofsolicitude, together with the pleasure of headship; and that, thechief being thus drawn, in turn, from one and the other sex, there maybe no cause for jealousy, as might happen, were any excluded from thesovranty, I say that unto each be attributed the burden and the honourfor one day. Let who is to be our first chief be at the election of usall. For who shall follow, be it he or she whom it shall please thegovernor of the day to appoint, whenas the hour of vespers drawethnear, and let each in turn, at his or her discretion, order anddispose of the place and manner wherein we are to live, for such timeas his or her seignory shall endure."

  Pampinea's words pleased mightily, and with one voice they elected herchief of the first day; whereupon Filomena, running nimbly to alaurel-tree--for that she had many a time heard speak of the honourdue to the leaves of this plant and how worship-worth they made whosowas deservedly crowned withal--and plucking divers sprays therefrom,made her thereof a goodly and honourable wreath, which, being set uponher head, was thenceforth, what while their company lasted, a manifestsign unto every other of the royal office and seignory.

  Pampinea, being made queen, commanded that every one should be silent;then, calling the serving-men of the three young gentlemen and her ownand the other ladies' women, who were four in number, before herselfand all being silent, she spoke thus: "In order that I may set you afirst example, by which, proceeding from good to better, our companymay live and last in order and pleasance and without reproach so longas it is agreeable to us, I constitute, firstly, Parmeno, Dioneo'sservant, my seneschal and commit unto him the care and ordinance ofall our household and [especially] that which pertaineth to theservice of the saloon. Sirisco, Pamfilo's servant, I will shall beour purveyor and treasurer and ensue the commandments of Parmeno.Tindaro shall look to the service of Filostrato and the other twogentlemen in their bed chambers, what time the others, being occupiedabout their respective offices, cannot attend thereto. Misia, mywoman, and Filomena's Licisca shall still abide in the kitchen andthere diligently prepare such viands as shall be appointed them ofParmeno. Lauretta's Chimera and Fiammetta's Stratilia it is ourpleasure shall occupy themselves with the ordinance of the ladies'chambers and the cleanliness of the places where we shall abide; andwe will and command all and several, as they hold our favour dear, tohave a care that, whithersoever they go or whencesoever they returnand whatsoever they hear or see, they bring us from without no newsother than joyous." These orders summarily given and commended of all,Pampinea, rising blithely to her feet, said, "Here be gardens, here bemeadows, here be store of other delectable places, wherein let each goa-pleasuring at will; and when tierce[24] soundeth, let all be here,so we may eat in the cool."

  [Footnote 24: _i.e._ Nine o'clock a.m. Boccaccio's habit of measuringtime by the canonical hours has been a sore stumbling-block to theordinary English and French translator, who is generally terribly atsea as to his meaning, inclining to render _tierce_ three, _sexte_ sixo'clock and _none_ noon and making shots of the same wild kind at theother hours. The monasterial rule (which before the generalintroduction of clocks was commonly followed by the mediaeval public inthe computation of time) divided the twenty-four hours of the day andnight into seven parts (six of three hours each and one of six), theinception of which was denoted by the sound of the bells that summonedthe clergy to the performan
ce of the seven canonical offices _i.e.__Matins_ at 3 a.m., _Prime_ at 6 a.m., _Tierce_ at 9 a.m., _Sexte_ orNoonsong at noon, _None_ at 3 p.m., _Vespers_ or Evensong at 6 p.m.and _Complines_ or Nightsong at 9 p.m., and at the same time servedthe laity as a clock.]

  The merry company, being thus dismissed by the new queen, wentstraying with slow steps, young men and fair ladies together, about agarden, devising blithely and diverting themselves with weaving goodlygarlands of various leaves and carolling amorously. After they hadabidden there such time as had been appointed them of the queen, theyreturned to the house, where they found that Parmeno had made adiligent beginning with his office, for that, entering a saloon on theground floor, they saw there the tables laid with the whitest ofcloths and beakers that seemed of silver and everything covered withthe flowers of the broom; whereupon, having washed their hands, theyall, by command of the queen, seated themselves according to Parmeno'sordinance. Then came viands delicately drest and choicest wines wereproffered and the three serving-men, without more, quietly tended thetables. All, being gladdened by these things, for that they were fairand orderly done, ate joyously and with store of merry talk, and thetables being cleared away,[25] the queen bade bring instruments ofmusic, for that all the ladies knew how to dance, as also the youngmen, and some of them could both play and sing excellent well.Accordingly, by her commandment, Dioneo took a lute and Fiammetta aviol and began softly to sound a dance; whereupon the queen and theother ladies, together with the other two young men, having sent theserving-men to eat, struck up a round and began with a slow pace todance a brawl; which ended, they fell to singing quaint and merryditties. On this wise they abode till it seemed to the queen time togo to sleep,[26] and she accordingly dismissed them all; whereupon theyoung men retired to their chambers, which were withdrawn from theladies' lodging, and finding them with the beds well made and as fullof flowers as the saloon, put off their clothes and betook themselvesto rest, whilst the ladies, on their part, did likewise.

  [Footnote 25: The table of Boccaccio's time was a mere board upontrestles, which when not in actual use, was stowed away, for room'ssake, against the wall.]

  [Footnote 26: _i.e._ to take the siesta or midday nap common in hotcountries.]

  None[27] had not long sounded when the queen, arising, made all theother ladies arise, and on like wise the three young men, allegingovermuch sleep to be harmful by day; and so they betook themselves toa little meadow, where the grass grew green and high nor there had thesun power on any side. There, feeling the waftings of a gentle breeze,they all, as their queen willed it, seated themselves in a ring on thegreen grass; while she bespoke them thus, "As ye see, the sun is highand the heat great, nor is aught heard save the crickets yonder amongthe olives; wherefore it were doubtless folly to go anywhither at thispresent. Here is the sojourn fair and cool, and here, as you see, arechess and tables,[28] and each can divert himself as is most to hismind. But, an my counsel be followed in this, we shall pass away thissultry part of the day, not in gaming,--wherein the mind of one of theplayers must of necessity be troubled, without any great pleasure ofthe other or of those who look on,--but in telling stories, which, onetelling, may afford diversion to all the company who hearken; norshall we have made an end of telling each his story but the sun willhave declined and the heat be abated, and we can then go a-pleasuringwhereas it may be most agreeable to us. Wherefore, if this that I sayplease you, (for I am disposed to follow your pleasure therein,) letus do it; and if it please you not, let each until the hour of vespersdo what most liketh him." Ladies and men alike all approved thestory-telling, whereupon, "Then," said the queen, "since this pleasethyou, I will that this first day each be free to tell of such mattersas are most to his liking." Then, turning to Pamfilo, who sat on herright hand, she smilingly bade him give beginning to the story-tellingwith one of his; and he, hearing the commandment, forthright beganthus, whilst all gave ear to him.

  [Footnote 27: _i.e._ three o'clock p.m.]

  [Footnote 28: _i.e._ backgammon.]