THE SIXTH STORY
[Day the Fourth]
ANDREVUOLA LOVETH GABRIOTTO AND RECOUNTETH TO HIM A DREAM SHE HATH HAD, WHEREUPON HE TELLETH HER ONE OF HIS OWN AND PRESENTLY DIETH SUDDENLY IN HER ARMS. WHAT WHILE SHE AND A WAITING WOMAN OF HERS BEAR HIM TO HIS OWN HOUSE, THEY ARE TAKEN BY THE OFFICERS OF JUSTICE AND CARRIED BEFORE THE PROVOST, TO WHOM SHE DISCOVERETH HOW THE CASE STANDETH. THE PROVOST WOULD FAIN FORCE HER, BUT SHE SUFFERETH IT NOT AND HER FATHER, COMING TO HEAR OF THE MATTER, PROCURETH HER TO BE SET AT LIBERTY, SHE BEING FOUND INNOCENT; WHEREUPON, ALTOGETHER REFUSING TO ABIDE LONGER IN THE WORLD, SHE BECOMETH A NUN
Filomela's story was very welcome to the ladies, for that they hadmany a time heard sing this song, yet could never, for asking, learnthe occasion of its making. But the king, having heard the endthereof, charged Pamfilo follow on the ordinance; whereupon quoth he,"The dream in the foregoing story giveth me occasion to recount onewherein is made mention of two dreams, which were of a thing to come,even as the former was of a thing [already] betided, and scarce werethey finished telling by those who had dreamt them than theaccomplishment followed of both. You must know, then, lovesome ladies,that it is an affection common to all alive to see various things insleep, whereof,--albeit to the sleeper, what while he sleepeth, theyall appear most true and he, awakened, accounteth some true, othersprobable and yet others out of all likelihood,--many are nathelessfound to be come to pass. By reason whereof many lend to every dreamas much belief as they would to things they should see, waking, andfor their proper dreams they sorrow or rejoice, according as by thesethey hope or fear. And contrariwise, there are those who believe nonethereof, save after they find themselves fallen into the perilforeshown. Of these,[245] I approve neither the one nor other, forthat dreams are neither always true nor always false. That they arenot all true, each one of us must often enough have had occasion toknow; and that they are not all false hath been already shown inFilomena her story, and I also purpose, as I said before, to show itin mine. Wherefore I am of opinion that, in the matter of living anddoing virtuously, one should have no fear of any dream contrarythereto nor forego good intentions by reason thereof; as for perverseand wicked things, on the other hand, however favourable dreams mayappear thereto and how much soever they may hearten him who seeth themwith propitious auguries, none of them should be credited, whilst fullfaith should be accorded unto all that tend to the contrary.[246] Butto come to the story.
[Footnote 245: _i.e._ these two classes of folk.]
[Footnote 246: _i.e._ to the encouragement of good and virtuousactions and purposes.]
There was once in the city of Brescia a gentleman called Messer Negroda Ponte Carraro, who amongst sundry other children had a daughternamed Andrevuola, young and unmarried and very fair. It chanced shefell in love with a neighbour of hers, Gabriotto by name, a man ofmean condition, but full laudable fashions and comely and pleasant ofhis person, and by the means and with the aid of the serving-maid ofthe house, she so wrought that not only did Gabriotto know himselfbeloved of her, but was many and many a time brought, to the delightof both parties, into a goodly garden of her father's. And in orderthat no cause, other than death, should ever avail to sever thosetheir delightsome loves, they became in secret husband and wife, andso stealthily continuing their foregatherings, it befell that theyoung lady, being one night asleep, dreamt that she was in her gardenwith Gabriotto and held him in her arms, to the exceeding pleasure ofeach; but, as they abode thus, herseemed she saw come forth of hisbody something dark and frightful, the form whereof she could notdiscern; the which took Gabriotto and tearing him in her despite withmarvellous might from her embrace, made off with him underground, norever more might she avail to see either the one or the other.
At this she fell into an inexpressible passion of grief, whereby sheawoke, and albeit, awaking, she was rejoiced to find that it was notas she had dreamed, nevertheless fear entered into her by reason ofthe dream she had seen. Wherefore, Gabriotto presently desiring tovisit her that next night, she studied as most she might to preventhis coming; however, seeing his desire and so he might not misdoubthim of otherwhat, she received him in the garden and having gatheredgreat store of roses, white and red (for that it was the season), shewent to sit with him at the foot of a very goodly and clear fountainthat was there. After they had taken great and long delight together,Gabriotto asked her why she would have forbidden his coming thatnight; whereupon she told him, recounting to him the dream she hadseen the foregoing night and the fear she had gotten therefrom.
He, hearing this, laughed it to scorn and said that it was great follyto put any faith in dreams, for that they arose of excess of food orlack thereof and were daily seen to be all vain, adding, 'Were Iminded to follow after dreams, I had not come hither, not so much onaccount of this of thine as of one I myself dreamt last night; whichwas that meseemed I was in a fair and delightsome wood, wherein I wenthunting and had taken the fairest and loveliest hind was ever seen;for methought she was whiter than snow and was in brief space becomeso familiar with me that she never left me a moment. Moreover,meseemed I held her so dear that, so she might not depart from me, Ihad put a collar of gold about her neck and held her in hand with agolden chain. After this medreamed that, once upon a time, what whilethis hind lay couched with its head in my bosom,[247] there issued Iknow not whence a greyhound bitch as black as coal, anhungred andpassing gruesome of aspect, and made towards me. Methought I offeredit no resistance, wherefore meseemed it thrust its muzzle into mybreast on the left side and gnawed thereat till it won to my heart,which methought it tore from me, to carry it away. Therewith I feltsuch a pain that my sleep was broken and awaking, I straightwayclapped my hand to my side, to see if I had aught there; but, findingnothing amiss with me, I made mock of myself for having sought. But,after all, what booteth this dream?[248] I have dreamed many such andfar more frightful, nor hath aught in the world befallen me by reasonthereof; wherefore let it pass and let us think to give ourselves agood time.'
[Footnote 247: Or "lap" (_seno_).]
[Footnote 248: Lit. what meaneth this? (_che vuol dire questo?_)]
The young lady, already sore adread for her own dream, hearing this,waxed yet more so, but hid her fear, as most she might, not to be theoccasion of any unease to Gabriotto. Nevertheless, what while shesolaced herself with him, clipping and kissing him again and again andbeing of him clipped and kissed, she many a time eyed him in the facemore than of her wont, misdoubting she knew not what, and whiles shelooked about the garden, and she should see aught of black comeanywhence. Presently, as they abode thus, Gabriotto heaved a greatsigh and embracing her said, 'Alas, my soul, help me, for I die!' Sosaying, he fell to the ground upon the grass of the lawn. The younglady, seeing this, drew him up into her lap and said, well nighweeping, 'Alack, sweet my lord, what aileth thee?' He answered not,but, panting sore and sweating all over, no great while after departedthis life.
How grievous, how dolorous was this to the young lady, who loved himmore than her life, each one of you may conceive for herself. Shebewept him sore and many a time called him in vain; but after she hadhandled him in every part of his body and found him cold in all,perceiving that he was altogether dead and knowing not what to do orto say, she went, all tearful as she was and full of anguish, to callher maid, who was privy to their loves, and discovered to her miseryand her grief. Then, after they had awhile made woeful lamentationover Gabriotto's dead face, the young lady said to the maid, 'SinceGod hath bereft me of him I love, I purpose to abide no longer onlife; but, ere I go about to slay myself, I would fain take fittingmeans to preserve my honour and the secret of the love that hath beenbetween us twain and that the body, wherefrom the gracious spirit isdeparted, may be buried.'
'Daughter mine,' answered the maid, 'talk not of seeking to slaythyself, for that, if thou have lost him in this world, by slayingthyself thou wouldst lose him in the world to come also, since thouwouldst go to hell, whither I am assured his
soul hath not gone; forhe was a virtuous youth. It were better far to comfort thyself andthink of succouring his soul with prayers and other good works, sohaply he have need thereof for any sin committed. The means of buryinghim are here at hand in this garden and none will ever know of thematter, for none knoweth that he ever came hither. Or, an thou wiltnot have it so, let us put him forth of the garden and leave him be;he will be found to-morrow morning and carried to his house, where hiskinsfolk will have him buried.' The young lady, albeit she was full ofbitter sorrow and wept without ceasing, yet gave ear to her maid'scounsels and consenting not to the first part thereof, made answer tothe second, saying, 'God forbid that I should suffer so dear a youthand one so beloved of me and my husband to be buried after the fashionof a dog or left to lie in the street! He hath had my tears andinasmuch as I may, he shall have those of his kinsfolk, and I havealready bethought me of that which we have to do to that end.'
Therewith she despatched her maid for a piece of cloth of silk, whichshe had in a coffer of hers, and spreading it on the earth, laidGabriotto's body thereon, with his head upon a pillow. Then with manytears she closed his eyes and mouth and weaving him a chaplet ofroses, covered him with all they had gathered, he and she; after whichshe said to the maid, 'It is but a little way hence to his house;wherefore we will carry him thither, thou and I, even as we havearrayed him, and lay him before the door. It will not be long ere itbe day and he will be taken up; and although this may be noconsolation to his friends, yet to me, in whose arms he died, it willbe a pleasure.' So saying, once more with most abundant tears she castherself upon his face and wept a great while. Then, being urged by hermaid to despatch, for that the day was at hand, she rose to her feetand drawing from her finger the ring wherewith Gabriotto had espousedher, she set it on his and said, weeping, 'Dear my lord, if thy soulnow seeth my tears or if any sense or cognizance abide in the body,after the departure thereof, benignly receive her last gift, whom,living, thou lovedst so well.' This said, she fell down upon him in aswoon, but, presently coming to herself and rising, she took up,together with her maid, the cloth whereon the body lay and going forththe garden therewith, made for his house.
As they went, they were discovered and taken with the dead body bythe officers of the provostry, who chanced to be abroad at that hourabout some other matter. Andrevuola, more desirous of death than oflife, recognizing the officers, said frankly, 'I know who you are andthat it would avail me nothing to seek to flee; I am ready to go withyou before the Seignory and there declare how the case standeth; butlet none of you dare to touch me, provided I am obedient to you, or toremove aught from this body, an he would not be accused of me.'Accordingly, without being touched of any, she repaired, withGabriotto's body, to the palace, where the Provost, hearing what wasto do, arose and sending for her into his chamber, proceeded toenquire of this that had happened. To this end he caused diversphysicians look if the dead man had been done to death with poison orotherwise, who all affirmed that it was not so, but that someimposthume had burst near the heart, the which had suffocated him. Themagistrate hearing this and feeling her to be guilty in [but] a smallmatter, studied to make a show of giving her that which he could notsell her and told her that, an she would consent to his pleasures, hewould release her; but, these words availing not, he offered, out ofall seemliness, to use force. However, Andrevuola, fired with disdainand waxed strong [for indignation], defended herself manfully,rebutting him with proud and scornful words.
Meanwhile, broad day come and these things being recounted to MesserNegro, he betook himself, sorrowful unto death, to the palace, incompany with many of his friends, and being there acquainted by theProvost with the whole matter, demanded resentfully[249] that hisdaughter should be restored to him. The Provost, choosing rather toaccuse himself of the violence he would have done her than to beaccused of her, first extolled the damsel and her constancy and inproof thereof, proceeded to tell that which he had done; by reasonwhereof, seeing her of so excellent a firmness, he had vowed her anexceeding love and would gladly, an it were agreeable to him, who washer father, and to herself, espouse her for his lady, notwithstandingshe had had a husband of mean condition. Whilst they yet talked,Andrevuola presented herself and weeping, cast herself before herfather and said, 'Father mine, methinketh there is no need that Irecount to you the story of my boldness and my illhap, for I amassured that you have heard and know it; wherefore, as most I may, Ihumbly ask pardon of you for my default, to wit, the having withoutyour knowledge taken him who most pleased me to husband. And this boonI ask of you, not for that my life may be spared me, but to die yourdaughter and not your enemy.' So saying, she fell weeping at his feet.
[Footnote 249: Lit. complaining, making complaint (_dolendosi_).]
Messer Negro, who was an old man and kindly and affectionate of hisnature, hearing these words, began to weep and with tears in his eyesraised his daughter tenderly to her feet and said, 'Daughter mine, ithad better pleased me that thou shouldst have had such a husband as,according to my thinking, behoved unto thee; and that thou shouldsthave taken such an one as was pleasing unto thee had also beenpleasing to me; but that thou shouldst have concealed him, of thylittle confidence in me, grieveth me, and so much the more as I seethee to have lost him, ere I knew it. However, since the case is so,that which had he lived, I had gladly done him, to content thee, towit, honour, as to my son-in-law, be it done him, now he is dead.'Then, turning to his sons and his kinsfolk, he commanded that greatand honourable obsequies should be prepared for Gabriotto.
Meanwhile, the kinsmen and kinswomen of the young man, hearing thenews, had flocked thither, and with them well nigh all the men andwomen in the city. Therewith, the body, being laid out amiddleward thecourtyard upon Andrevuola's silken cloth and strewn, with all herroses, was there not only bewept by her and his kinsfolk, but publiclymourned by well nigh all the ladies of the city and by many men, andbeing brought forth of the courtyard of the Seignory, not as that of aplebeian, but as that of a nobleman, it was with the utmost honourborne to the sepulchre upon the shoulders of the most noble citizens.Some days thereafterward, the Provost ensuing that which he haddemanded, Messer Negro propounded it to his daughter, who would hearnought thereof, but, her father being willing to comply with her inthis, she and her maid made themselves nuns in a convent very famousfor sanctity and there lived honourably a great while after."
The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio Page 42
