The Decameron (Day 1 to Day 5)

by Giovanni Boccaccio

  _A yong Scholler, named_ Felice, _enstructed_ Puccio di Rinieri, _howto become rich in a very short time. While_ Puccio _made experienceof the instructions taught him;_ Felice _obtained the favour of hisDaughter._

  The fourth Novell.

  _Wherein is declared, what craft and subtilty some wily wits candevise, to deceive the simple, and compasse their owne desires._

  After that _Philomena_ had finished her Tale, she sate still; and_Dioneus_ with faire and pleasing Language, commended the Gentlewomansquaint cunning, but smiled at the Confessors witlesse simplicity.Then the _Queen_, turning with chearefull looks towards _Pamphilus_,commaunded him to continue on their delight; who gladly yeelded, andthus began. Madame, many men there are, who while they strive toclimbe from a good estate, to a seeming better; doe become in muchworse condition then they were before. As happened to a neighbour ofours, and no long time since, as the accident will better acquaint youwithall.

  According as I have heard it reported, neere to Saint _Brancazio_,there dwelt an honest man, and some-what rich, who was called _Pucciodi Rinieri_, and who addicted all his paines and endeavours to Alchimy:wherefore, he kept no other family, but onely a widdowed daughter, anda servant; and because he had no other Art or exercise, hee used oftento frequent the market place. And in regard he was but a weake wittedman, and a gourmand or grosse feeder; his language was the more harshand rude, like to our common Porters or loutish men, and his carriagealso absurd, boore-like, and clownish. His daughter, being named _MonnaIsabetta_, aged not above eight and twenty, or thirty yeers; was afresh indifferent faire, plumpe, round woman, cherry cheekt, like aQueene-Apple; and, to please her Father, fed not so sparingly, asotherwise she wold have done, but when she communed or jested with anybody, she would talke of nothing, but onely concerning the great vertuein Alchimy, extolling it above all other Arts.

  Much about this season of the yeare, there returned a young Schollerfrom _Paris_, named _Felice_, faire of complexion, comely of person,ingeniously witted, and skilfully learned, who (soone after) grewinto familiarity with _Puccio_: now because he could resolve him inmany doubts, depending on his profession of Alchimy, (himselfe havingonely practise, but no great learning) he used many questions to him,shewed him very especiall matters of secrecy, entertaining him often todinners and suppers, whensoever he pleased to come and converse withhim; and his daughter likewise, perceiving with what favour her Fatherrespected him, became the more familiar with him, allowing him goodregard and reverence.

  The young man continuing his resort to the House of _Puccio_, andobserving the widow to be faire, fresh, and prettily formall; he beganto consider with himselfe, what those things might be, wherein sheewas most wanting; and (if he could) to save anothers labour, supplythem by his best endeavours. Thus not alwayes carrying his eyes beforehim, but using many backe and circumspect regards, he proceeded sofarre in his wylie apprehensions, that (by a few sparkes close kepttogether) he kindled part of the same fire in her, which began to flameapparantly in him. And he very wittily observing the same, as occasionfirst smiled on him, and allowed him favourable opportunity, so did heeimpart his intention to her.

  Now albeit he found her plyant enough, to gaine physick for her ownegriefe, as soone as his; yet the meanes and manner were (as yet) quiteout of all apprehension. For shee in no other part of the World, wouldtrust her selfe in the young mans company, but onely in her Fathershouse; and that was a place out of all possibility, because _Puccio_(by a long continued custome) used to watch well neere all the night,as commonly he did, each night after other, never stirring foorth ofthe roomes, which much abated the edge of the young mans appetite.After infinite intricate revolvings, wheeling about his busied braine,he thought it not altogether an _Herculian_ taske, to enjoy hishappinesse in the house, and without any suspition, albeit _Puccio_kept still within doores, and watched as hee was wont to doe.

  Upon a day as he sate in familiar conference with _Puccio_, he beganto speake unto him in this manner; I have many times noted, kindefriend _Puccio_, that all thy desire and endeavour is, by what meanesthou mayest become very rich, wherein (me thinkes) thou takest toowide a course, when there is a much neere and shorter way, which_Mighell, Scotus,_ and other his associates, very diligently observedand followed, yet were never willing to instruct other men therein;whereby the misterie might be drowned in oblivion, and prosecuted bynone but onely great Lords, that are able to undergoe it. But becausethou art mine especiall friend, and I have received from thee infinitekind favours; whereas I never intended, that any man (by me) shouldbe acquainted with so rare a secret; if thou wilt imitate the courseas I shall shew thee, I purpose to teach it thee in full perfection._Puccio_ being very earnestly desirous to understand the speediest wayto so singular a mysterie, first began to entreat him (with no meaneinstance) to acquaint him with the rules of so rich a Science; andafterward sware unto him, never to disclose it to any person, excepthee gave his consent thereto; affirming beside, that it was a rarity,not easie to be comprehended by very apprehensive judgements. Well(quoth _Felice_) seeing thou hast made me such a sound and solemnepromise, I will make it knowne unto thee.

  Know then friend _Puccio_, the Philosophers do hold, that such as covetto become rich indeed, must understand how to make the Stone: as I willtell thee how, but marke the manner very heedfully. I do not say, thatafter the Stone is obtained, thou shalt be even as rich as now thouart; but thou shalt plainly perceive, that the very grosest substance,which hitherto thou hast seene, all of them shal be made pure golde,and such as afterward thou makest, shall be more certaine, then togo or come with _Aqua fortis_, as now they do. Most expedient is ittherefore, that when a man will go diligently about this businesse,and purposeth to prosecute such a singular labour, which will andmust continue for the space of 40 nights, he must give very carefullattendance, wholly abstaining from sleepe, slumbering, or so much asnodding all that while.

  Moreover, in some apt and convenient place of thy house, there mustbe a forge or furnace erected, framed in decent and formall fashion,and neere it a large table placed, ordered in such sort, as standingupright on thy feete, and leaning the reines of thy backe against it;thou must stande stedfastly in that manner every night, without theleast motion or stirring, untill the breake of day appeareth, andthine eyes still uppon the Furnace fixed, to keepe ever in memory, thetrue order which I have prescribed. So soone as the morning is seene,thou mayst (if thou wilt) walke, or rest a little upon thy bed, andafterward go about thy businesse, if thou have any. Then go to dinner,attending readily till the evenings approch, preparing such thingsas I will readily set thee downe in writing, without which there isnot any thing to bee done; and then returne to the same taske againe,not varying a jot from the course directed. Before the time be fullyexpired, thou shalt perceive many apparant signes, that the stone isstill in absolute forwardnesse, but it will bee utterly lost if thoufayle in the least of all the observances. And when the experience hathcrowned thy labour, thou art sure to have the Philosophers stone, andthereby shalt be able to enrich all, and worke wonders beside.

  _Puccio_ instantly replied. Now trust me Sir, there is no greatdifficultie in this labour; neither doth it require any extraordinarylength of time: but it may very easily be followed and performed, and(by your friendly favour, in helping to direct the Furnace and Table,according as you imagine most convenient) on Sunday at night next, Iwill begin my task. The Scholler being gone, he went to his daughter,and tolde her all the matter, and what he had determined to do: whichshee immediately understood sufficiently, and what would ensue on hisnightly watching in that manner, returning him answer, that whatsoeverhe liked and allowed of, it became not her any way to mislike. Thusthey continued in this kinde concordance, till Sunday night came. When_Puccio_ was to begin his experience, and _Felice_ to set forward uponhis adventure. Concluded it was, that every night the Scholler mustcome to Supper, partly to bee a witnesse of his constant performance,but more especially for his owne advantage.

  The place which
_Puccio_ had chosen, for his hopefull attaining to thePhilosophers Stone, was close to the Chamber where his daughter lay,having no other separation or division, but an old ruinous tottringwall. So that, when the Scholler was playing his prize, _Puccio_ heardan unwonted noise in the house, which he had never observed before,neither knew the wall to have any such motion: wherefore, not daringto stirre from his standing, least all should be marrd in the verybeginning, he called to his daughter, demanding, what busie labour shewas about? The widdow, being much addicted to frumping, according asquestions were demanded of her, and (perhaps) forgetting who spake toher, pleasantly replied: Whoop Sir, where are we now? Are the Spiritsof Alchimy walking in the house, that we cannot lye quietly in our beds?

  _Puccio_ mervailing at this answer, knowing she never gave him the likebefore; demanded againe, what she did? The subtle wench, remembringthat she had not answered as became her, said: Pardon mee Father, mywits were not mine owne, when you demanded such a sodaine question; andI have heard you say an hundred times, that when folke go supperlesto bed, either they walke in their sleepe, or being awake, talke veryidely, as (no doubt) you have discernde by me. Nay daughter (quoth he)it may be, that I was in a waking dreame, and thought I heard the oldewall totter: but I see I was deceived, for now it is quiet and stillenough. Talke no more good Father, saide she, least you stirre fromyour place, and hinder your labour: take no care for mee, I am ableenough to have care of my selfe.

  To prevent any more of these nightly disturbances, they went to lodgein another part of the house, where they continued out the time of_Puccioes_ paines, with equall contentment to them both, which madeher divers times say to _Felice_: You teach my father the cheefegrounds of Alchimy, while we helpe to waste away his treasure. Thus theScholler being but poore, yet well forwarded in Learning, made use of_Puccioes_ folly, and found benefit thereby, to keepe him out of wants,which is the bane and overthrow of numberlesse good wits. And _Puccio_dying, before the date of his limitted time, because hee failed of thePhilosophers Stone, _Isabetta_ joyned in marriage with _Felice_, tomake him amends for enstructing her father, by which meanes he came tobe her husband.