THE SECOND STORY
[Day the Fifth]
COSTANZA LOVETH MARTUCCIO GOMITO AND HEARING THAT HE IS DEAD, EMBARKETH FOR DESPAIR ALONE IN A BOAT, WHICH IS CARRIED BY THE WIND TO SUSA. FINDING HER LOVER ALIVE AT TUNIS, SHE DISCOVERETH HERSELF TO HIM AND HE, BEING GREAT IN FAVOUR WITH THE KING FOR COUNSELS GIVEN, ESPOUSETH HER AND RETURNETH RICH WITH HER TO LIPARI
The queen, seeing Pamfilo's story at an end, after she had muchcommended it, enjoined Emilia to follow on, telling another, and sheaccordingly began thus: "Every one must naturally delight in thosethings wherein he seeth rewards ensue according to the affections;[267]and for that love in the long run deserveth rather happiness thanaffliction, I shall, intreating of the present theme, obey the queenwith much greater pleasure to myself than I did the king in that ofyesterday.
[Footnote 267: Syn. inclinations (_affezioni_). This is a somewhatobscure passage, owing to the vagueness of the word _affezioni_ (syn._affetti_) in this position, and may be rendered, with about equalprobability, in more than one way.]
You must know, then, dainty dames, that near unto Sicily is an isletcalled Lipari, wherein, no great while agone, was a very fair damselcalled Costanza, born of a very considerable family there. It chancedthat a young man of the same island, called Martuccio Gomito, who wasvery agreeable and well bred and of approved worth[268] in hiscraft,[269] fell in love with her; and she in like manner so burnedfor him that she was never easy save whenas she saw him. Martuccio,wishing to have her to wife, caused demand her of her father, whoanswered that he was poor and that therefore he would not give her tohim. The young man, enraged to see himself rejected for poverty, inconcert with certain of his friends and kinsmen, equipped a light shipand swore never to return to Lipari, except rich. Accordingly, hedeparted thence and turning corsair, fell to cruising off the coast ofBarbary and plundering all who were weaker than himself; whereinfortune was favourable enough to him, had he known how to set boundsto his wishes; but, it sufficing him not to have waxed very rich, heand his comrades, in a brief space of time, it befell that, whilstthey sought to grow overrich, he was, after a long defence, taken andplundered with all his companions by certain ships of the Saracens,who, after scuttling the vessel and sacking the greater part of thecrew, carried Martuccio to Tunis, where he was put in prison and longkept in misery.
[Footnote 268: Or "eminent" (_valoroso_), _i.e._ in modern parlance,"a man of merit and talent."]
[Footnote 269: _Valoroso nel suo mestiere._ It does not appear thatMartuccio was a craftsman and it is possible, therefore, thatBoccaccio intended the word _mestiere_ to be taken in the sense (to meunknown) of "condition" or "estate," in which case the passage wouldread, "a man of worth for (_i.e._ as far as comported with) his [mean]estate"; and this seems a probable reading.]
The news was brought to Lipari, not by one or by two, but by many anddivers persons, that he and all on board the bark had been drowned;whereupon the girl, who had been beyond measure woebegone for herlover's departure, hearing that he was dead with the others, wept soreand resolved in herself to live no longer; but, her heart sufferingher not to slay herself by violence, she determined to give a newoccasion[270] to her death.[271] Accordingly, she issued secretlyforth of her father's house one night and betaking herself to theharbour, happened upon a fishing smack, a little aloof from the otherships, which, for that its owners had but then landed therefrom, shefound furnished with mast and sail and oars. In this she hastilyembarked and rowed herself out to sea; then, being somewhat skilled inthe mariner's art, as the women of that island mostly are, she madesail and casting the oars and rudder adrift, committed herselfaltogether to the mercy of the waves, conceiving that it must needshappen that the wind would either overturn a boat without lading orsteersman or drive it upon some rock and break it up, whereby shecould not, even if she would, escape, but must of necessity bedrowned. Accordingly, wrapping her head in a mantle, she laid herself,weeping, in the bottom of the boat.
[Footnote 270: Lit. necessity (_necessita_).]
[Footnote 271: _i.e._ to use a new (or strange) fashion of exposingherself to an inevitable death (_nuova necessita dare alla suamorte_).]
But it befell altogether otherwise than as she conceived, for that,the wind being northerly and very light and there being well nigh nosea, the boat rode it out in safety and brought her on the morrow,about vespers, to a beach near a town called Susa, a good hundredmiles beyond Tunis. The girl, who, for aught that might happen, hadnever lifted nor meant to lift her head, felt nothing of being ashoremore than at sea;[272] but, as chance would have it, there was on thebeach, whenas the bark struck upon it, a poor woman in act to take upfrom the sun the nets of the fishermen her masters, who, seeing thebark, marvelled how it should be left to strike full sail upon theland. Thinking that the fishermen aboard were asleep, she went up tothe bark and seeing none therein but the damsel aforesaid, who sleptfast, called her many times and having at last aroused her and knowingher by her habit for a Christian, asked her in Latin how she camethere in that bark all alone. The girl, hearing her speak Latin,misdoubted her a shift of wind must have driven her back to Lipari andstarting suddenly to her feet, looked about her, but knew not thecountry, and seeing herself on land, asked the good woman where shewas; to which she answered, 'Daughter mine, thou art near unto Susa inBarbary.' The girl, hearing this, was woeful for that God had notchosen to vouchsafe her the death she sought, and being in fear ofshame and knowing not what to do, she seated herself at the foot ofher bark and fell a-weeping.
[Footnote 272: _i.e._ knew not whether she was ashore or afloat, soabsorbed was she in her despair.]
The good woman, seeing this, took pity upon her and brought her, bydint of entreaty, into a little hut of hers and there so humoured herthat she told her how she came thither; whereupon, seeing that shewas fasting, she set before her her own dry bread and somewhat of fishand water and so besought her that she ate a little. Costanza afterasked her who she was that she spoke Latin thus; to which she answeredthat she was from Trapani and was called Carapresa and served certainChristian fishermen there. The girl, hearing the name of Carapresa,albeit she was exceeding woebegone and knew not what reason moved herthereunto, took it unto herself for a good augury to have heard thisname[273] and began to hope, without knowing what, and somewhat toabate of her wish to die. Then, without discovering who or whence shewas, she earnestly besought the good woman to have pity, for the loveof God, on her youth and give her some counsel how she might escapeany affront being offered her.
[Footnote 273: Or "augured well from the hearing of the name."_Carapresa_ signifies "a dear or precious prize, gain or capture."]
Carapresa, like a good woman as she was, hearing this, left her in herhut, whilst she hastily gathered up her nets; then, returning to her,she wrapped her from head to foot in her own mantle and carried her toSusa, where she said to her, 'Costanza, I will bring thee into thehouse of a very good Saracen lady, whom I serve oftentimes in heroccasions and who is old and pitiful. I will commend thee to her asmost I may and I am very certain that she will gladly receive thee anduse thee as a daughter; and do thou, abiding with her, study thineutmost, in serving her, to gain her favour, against God send theebetter fortune.' And as she said, so she did. The lady, who was wellstricken in years, hearing the woman's story, looked the girl in theface and fell a-weeping; then taking her by the hand, she kissed heron the forehead and carried her into her house, where she and sundryother women abode, without any man, and wrought all with their handsat various crafts, doing divers works of silk and palm-fibre andleather. Costanza soon learned to do some of these and falling toworking with the rest, became in such favour with the lady and theothers that it was a marvellous thing; nor was it long before, withtheir teaching, she learnt their language.
What while she abode thus at Susa, being now mourned at home for lostand dead, it befell that, one Mariabdela[274] being King of Tunis, acertain youth of great family and much puissance in Granada, avouchingthat t
hat kingdom belonged to himself, levied a great multitude offolk and came upon King Mariabdela, to oust him from the kingship.This came to the ears of Martuccio Gomito in prison and he knowing theBarbary language excellent well and hearing that the king was makinggreat efforts for his defence, said to one of those who had him andhis fellows in keeping, 'An I might have speech of the king, my heartassureth me that I could give him a counsel, by which he should gainthis his war.' The keeper reported these words to his chief, and hecarried them incontinent to the king, who bade fetch Martuccio andasked him what might be his counsel; whereto he made answer on thiswise, 'My lord, if, what time I have otherwhiles frequented these yourdominions, I have noted aright the order you keep in your battles,meseemeth you wage them more with archers than with aught else;wherefore, if a means could be found whereby your adversary's bowmenshould lack of arrows, whilst your own had abundance thereof,methinketh your battle would be won.' 'Without doubt,' answered theking, 'and this might be compassed, I should deem myself assured ofvictory.' Whereupon, 'My lord,' quoth Martuccio, 'an you will, thismay very well be done, and you shall hear how. You must let makestrings for your archers' bows much thinner than those which areeverywhere commonly used and after let make arrows, the notcheswhereof shall not serve but for these thin strings. This must be sosecretly done that your adversary should know nought thereof; elsewould he find a remedy therefor; and the reason for which I counselyou thus is this. After your enemy's archers and your own shall haveshot all their arrows, you know that, the battle lasting, it willbehove your foes to gather up the arrows shot by your men and thelatter in like manner to gather theirs; but the enemy will not be ableto make use of your arrows, by reason of the strait notches which willnot take their thick strings, whereas the contrary will betide yourmen of the enemy's arrows, for that the thin strings will excellentlywell take the wide-notched arrows; and so your men will have abundanceof ammunition, whilst the others will suffer default thereof.'
[Footnote 274: This name is apparently a distortion of the Arabic_Amir Abdullah_.]
The king, who was a wise prince, was pleased with Martuccio's counseland punctually following it, found himself thereby to have won hiswar. Wherefore Martuccio became in high favour with him and rose inconsequence to great and rich estate. The report of these thingsspread over the land and it came presently to Costanza's ears thatMartuccio Gomito, whom she had long deemed dead, was alive, whereuponthe love of him, that was now grown cool in her heart, broke out of asudden into fresh flame and waxed greater than ever, whilst dead hoperevived in her. Therewithal she altogether discovered her everyadventure to the good lady, with whom she dwelt, and told her that shewould fain go to Tunis, so she might satisfy her eyes of that whereofher ears had made them desireful, through the reports received. Theold lady greatly commended her purpose and taking ship with her,carried her, as if she had been her mother, to Tunis, where they werehonourably entertained in the house of a kinswoman of hers. There shedespatched Carapresa, who had come with them, to see what she couldlearn of Martuccio, and she, finding him alive and in great estate andreporting this to the old gentlewoman, it pleased the latter to willto be she who should signify unto Martuccio that his Costanza was comethither to him; wherefore, betaking herself one day whereas he was,she said to him, 'Martuccio, there is come to my house a servant ofthine from Lipari, who would fain speak with thee privily there;wherefore, not to trust to others, I have myself, at his desire, cometo give thee notice thereof.' He thanked her and followed her to herhouse, where when Costanza saw him, she was like to die of gladnessand unable to contain herself, ran straightway with open arms tothrow herself on his neck; then, embracing him, without availing tosay aught, she fell a-weeping tenderly, both for compassion of theirpast ill fortunes and for present gladness.
Martuccio, seeing his mistress, abode awhile dumb for amazement, thensaid sighing, 'O my Costanza, art thou then yet alive? It is longsince I heard that thou wast lost; nor in our country was aught knownof thee.' So saying, he embraced her, weeping, and kissed hertenderly. Costanza then related to him all that had befallen her andthe honourable treatment which she had received from the gentlewomanwith whom she dwelt; and Martuccio, after much discourse, taking leaveof her, repaired to the king his master and told him all, to wit, hisown adventures and those of the damsel, adding that, with his leave,he meant to take her to wife, according to our law. The king marvelledat these things and sending for the damsel and hearing from her thatit was even as Martuccio had avouched, said to her, 'Then hast thouright well earned him to husband.' Then, letting bring very great andmagnificent gifts, he gave part thereof to her and part to Martuccio,granting them leave to do one with the other that which was mostpleasing unto each of them; whereupon Martuccio, having entreated thegentlewoman who had harboured Costanza with the utmost honour andthanked her for that which she had done to serve her and bestowed onher such gifts as sorted with her quality, commended her to God andtook leave of her, he and his mistress, not without many tears fromthe latter. Then, with the king's leave, they embarked with Carapresaon board a little ship and returned with a fair wind to Lipari, whereso great was the rejoicing that it might never be told. ThereMartuccio took Costanza to wife and held great and goodly nuptials;after which they long in peace and repose had enjoyment of theirloves."
The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio Page 49
