THE NINTH STORY
[Day the Fifth]
FEDERIGO DEGLI ALBERIGHI LOVETH AND IS NOT LOVED. HE WASTETH HIS SUBSTANCE IN PRODIGAL HOSPITALITY TILL THERE IS LEFT HIM BUT ONE SOLE FALCON, WHICH, HAVING NOUGHT ELSE, HE GIVETH HIS MISTRESS TO EAT, ON HER COMING TO HIS HOUSE; AND SHE, LEARNING THIS, CHANGETH HER MIND AND TAKING HIM TO HUSBAND, MAKETH HIM RICH AGAIN
Filomena having ceased speaking, the queen, seeing that none remainedto tell save only herself and Dioneo, whose privilege entitled him tospeak last, said, with blithe aspect, "It pertaineth now to me to telland I, dearest ladies, will willingly do it, relating a story like inpart to the foregoing, to the intent that not only may you know howmuch the love of you[285] can avail in gentle hearts, but that you maylearn to be yourselves, whenas it behoveth, bestowers of yourguerdons, without always suffering fortune to be your guide, whichmost times, as it chanceth, giveth not discreetly, but out of allmeasure.
[Footnote 285: Syn. your charms (_la vostra vaghezza_).]
You must know, then, that Coppo di Borghese Domenichi, who was of ourdays and maybe is yet a man of great worship and authority in our cityand illustrious and worthy of eternal renown, much more for hisfashions and his merit than for the nobility of his blood, being grownfull of years, delighted oftentimes to discourse with his neighboursand others of things past, the which he knew how to do better and moreorderly and with more memory and elegance of speech than any otherman. Amongst other fine things of his, he was used to tell that therewas once in Florence a young man called Federigo, son of MesserFilippo Alberighi and renowned for deeds of arms and courtesy overevery other bachelor in Tuscany, who, as betideth most gentlemen,became enamoured of a gentlewoman named Madam Giovanna, in her dayheld one of the fairest and sprightliest ladies that were in Florence;and to win her love, he held jousts and tourneyings and madeentertainments and gave gifts and spent his substance without anystint; but she, being no less virtuous than fair, recked nought ofthese things done for her nor of him who did them. Federigo spendingthus far beyond his means and gaining nought, his wealth, as lightlyhappeneth, in course of time came to an end and he abode poor, norwas aught left him but a poor little farm, on whose returns he livedvery meagrely, and to boot a falcon he had, one of the best in theworld. Wherefore, being more in love than ever and himseeming he mightno longer make such a figure in the city as he would fain do, he tookup his abode at Campi, where his farm was, and there bore his povertywith patience, hawking whenas he might and asking of no one.
Federigo being thus come to extremity, it befell one day that MadamGiovanna's husband fell sick and seeing himself nigh upon death, madehis will, wherein, being very rich, he left a son of his, now wellgrown, his heir, after which, having much loved Madam Giovanna, hesubstituted her to his heir, in case his son should die without lawfulissue, and died. Madam Giovanna, being thus left a widow, betookherself that summer, as is the usance of our ladies, into the countrywith her son to an estate of hers very near that of Federigo;wherefore it befell that the lad made acquaintance with the latter andbegan to take delight in hawks and hounds, and having many a time seenhis falcon flown and being strangely taken therewith, longed sore tohave it, but dared not ask it of him, seeing it so dear to him. Thething standing thus, it came to pass that the lad fell sick, whereathis mother was sore concerned, as one who had none but him and lovedhim with all her might, and abode about him all day, comforting himwithout cease; and many a time she asked him if there were aught hedesired, beseeching him tell it her, for an it might be gotten, shewould contrive that he should have it. The lad, having heard theseoffers many times repeated, said, 'Mother mine, an you could procureme to have Federigo's falcon, methinketh I should soon be whole.'
The lady hearing this, bethought herself awhile and began to considerhow she should do. She knew that Federigo had long loved her and hadnever gotten of her so much as a glance of the eye; wherefore quothshe in herself, 'How shall I send or go to him to seek of him thisfalcon, which is, by all I hear, the best that ever flew and which, toboot, maintaineth him in the world? And how can I be so graceless asto offer to take this from a gentleman who hath none other pleasureleft?' Perplexed with this thought and knowing not what to say, forall she was very certain of getting the bird, if she asked for it, shemade no reply to her son, but abode silent. However, at last, the loveof her son so got the better of her that she resolved in herself tosatisfy him, come what might, and not to send, but to go herself forthe falcon and fetch it to him. Accordingly she said to him, 'My son,take comfort and bethink thyself to grow well again, for I promisethee that the first thing I do to-morrow morning I will go for it andfetch it to thee.' The boy was rejoiced at this and showed someamendment that same day.
Next morning, the lady, taking another lady to bear her company,repaired, by way of diversion, to Federigo's little house and enquiredfor the latter, who, for that it was no weather for hawking nor hadbeen for some days past, was then in a garden he had, overlooking thedoing of certain little matters of his, and hearing that MadamGiovanna asked for him at the door, ran thither, rejoicing andmarvelling exceedingly. She, seeing him come, rose and going withwomanly graciousness to meet him, answered his respectful salutationwith 'Give you good day, Federigo!' then went on to say, 'I am come tomake thee amends for that which thou hast suffered through me, inloving me more than should have behooved thee; and the amends inquestion is this that I purpose to dine with thee this morningfamiliarly, I and this lady my companion.' 'Madam,' answered Federigohumbly, 'I remember me not to have ever received any ill at yourhands, but on the contrary so much good that, if ever I was worthaught, it came about through your worth and the love I bore you; andassuredly, albeit you have come to a poor host, this your graciousvisit is far more precious to me than it would be an it were given meto spend over again as much as that which I have spent aforetime.' Sosaying, he shamefastly received her into his house and thence broughther into his garden, where, having none else to bear her company, hesaid to her, 'Madam, since there is none else here, this good woman,wife of yonder husbandman, will bear you company, whilst I go see thetable laid.'
Never till that moment, extreme as was his poverty, had he been sodolorously sensible of the straits to which he had brought himself forthe lack of those riches he had spent on such disorderly wise. Butthat morning, finding he had nothing wherewithal he might honourablyentertain the lady, for love of whom he had aforetime entertained folkwithout number, he was made perforce aware of his default and ranhither and thither, perplexed beyond measure, like a man besidehimself, inwardly cursing his ill fortune, but found neither money noraught he might pawn. It was now growing late and he having a greatdesire to entertain the gentle lady with somewhat, yet choosing not tohave recourse to his own labourer, much less any one else, his eyefell on his good falcon, which he saw on his perch in his littlesaloon; whereupon, having no other resource, he took the bird andfinding him fat, deemed him a dish worthy of such a lady. Accordingly,without more ado, he wrung the hawk's neck and hastily caused a littlemaid of his pluck it and truss it and after put it on the spit androast it diligently. Then, the table laid and covered with very whitecloths, whereof he had yet some store, he returned with a blithecountenance to the lady in the garden and told her that dinner wasready, such as it was in his power to provide. Accordingly, the ladyand her friend, arising, betook themselves to table and in companywith Federigo, who served them with the utmost diligence, ate the goodfalcon, unknowing what they did.
Presently, after they had risen from table and had abidden with himawhile in cheerful discourse, the lady, thinking it time to tell thatwherefor she was come, turned to Federigo and courteously bespoke him,saying, 'Federigo, I doubt not a jot but that, when thou hearest thatwhich is the especial occasion of my coming hither, thou wilt marvelat my presumption, remembering thee of thy past life and of my virtue,which latter belike thou reputedst cruelty and hardness of heart;but, if thou hadst or hadst had children, by whom thou mightest knowhow potent is t
he love one beareth them, meseemeth certain that thouwouldst in part hold me excused. But, although thou hast none, I, whohave one child, cannot therefore escape the common laws to which othermothers are subject and whose enforcements it behoveth me ensue, needmust I, against my will and contrary to all right and seemliness, askof thee a boon, which I know is supremely dear to thee (and that withgood reason, for that thy sorry fortune hath left thee none otherdelight, none other diversion, none other solace), to wit, thy falcon,whereof my boy is so sore enamoured that, an I carry it not to him, Ifear me his present disorder will be so aggravated that there maypresently ensue thereof somewhat whereby I shall lose him. Wherefore Iconjure thee,--not by the love thou bearest me and whereto thou artnowise beholden, but by thine own nobility, which in doing courtesyhath approved itself greater than in any other,--that it please theegive it to me, so by the gift I may say I have kept my son alive andthus made him for ever thy debtor.'
Federigo, hearing what the lady asked and knowing that he could notoblige her, for that he had given her the falcon to eat, fella-weeping in her presence, ere he could answer a word. The lady atfirst believed that his tears arose from grief at having to part fromhis good falcon and was like to say that she would not have it.However, she contained herself and awaited what Federigo should reply,who, after weeping awhile, made answer thus: 'Madam, since it pleasedGod that I should set my love on you, I have in many things reputedfortune contrary to me and have complained of her; but all the illturns she hath done me have been a light matter in comparison withthat which she doth me at this present and for which I can never morebe reconciled to her, considering that you are come hither to my poorhouse, whereas you deigned not to come what while I was rich, and seekof me a little boon, the which she hath so wrought that I cannot grantyou; and why this cannot be I will tell you briefly. When I heard thatyou, of your favour, were minded to dine with me, I deemed it a lightthing and a seemly, having regard to your worth and the nobility ofyour station, to honour you, as far as in me lay, with some choicervictual than that which is commonly set before other folk; wherefore,remembering me of the falcon which you ask of me and of hisexcellence, I judged him a dish worthy of you. This very morning,then, you have had him roasted upon the trencher, and indeed I hadaccounted him excellently well bestowed; but now, seeing that youwould fain have had him on other wise, it is so great a grief to methat I cannot oblige you therein that methinketh I shall never forgivemyself therefor.' So saying, in witness of this, he let cast beforeher the falcon's feathers and feet and beak.
The lady, seeing and hearing this, first blamed him for having, togive a woman to eat, slain such a falcon, and after inwardly muchcommended the greatness of his soul, which poverty had not availed normight anywise avail to abate. Then, being put out of all hope ofhaving the falcon and fallen therefore in doubt of her son's recovery,she took her leave and returned, all disconsolate, to the latter,who, before many days had passed, whether for chagrin that he couldnot have the bird or for that his disorder was e'en fated to bring himto that pass, departed this life, to the inexpressible grief of hismother. After she had abidden awhile full of tears and affliction,being left very rich and yet young, she was more than once urged byher brothers to marry again, and albeit she would fain not have doneso, yet, finding herself importuned and calling to mind Federigo'sworth and his last magnificence, to wit, the having slain such afalcon for her entertainment, she said to them, 'I would gladly, an itliked you, abide as I am; but, since it is your pleasure that I take a[second] husband, certes I will never take any other, an I have notFederigo degli Alberighi.' Whereupon her brothers, making mock of her,said 'Silly woman that thou art, what is this thou sayest? How canstthou choose him, seeing he hath nothing in the world?' 'Brothersmine,' answered she, 'I know very well that it is as you say; but Iwould liefer have a man that lacketh of riches than riches that lackof a man.' Her brethren, hearing her mind and knowing Federigo for aman of great merit, poor though he was, gave her, with all her wealth,to him, even as she would; and he, seeing himself married to a lady ofsuch worth and one whom he had loved so dear and exceeding rich, toboot, became a better husband of his substance and ended his days withher in joy and solace."
The Decameron of Giovanni Boccaccio Page 56
