The Decameron (Day 1 to Day 5)

by Giovanni Boccaccio

  The Fourth Day.

  _Wherein all the severall Discourses, are under the Government ofHonourable_ Philostratus: _And concerning such persons, whose Loveshave had successelesse ending._

  The Induction unto the ensuing Novelles.

  Most worthy Ladies, I have alwayes heard, as well by the sayings ofthe judicious, as also by mine owne observation and reading, that theimpetuous and violent windes of envy, do sildome blow turbulently; buton the highest Towers and tops of the trees most eminently advanced.Yet (in mine opinion) I have found my selfe much deceived; because, bystriving with my very uttermost endeavour, to shunne the outrage ofthose implacable winds; I have laboured to go, not onely by plaine andeven pathes, but likewise through the deepest vallies. As very easilymay be seene and observed in the reading of these few small Novelse,which I have written not only in our vulgar _Florentine_ prose, withoutany ambitious title: but also in a most humble stile, so low and gentleas possibly I could. And although I have bene rudely shaken, yea,almost halfe unrooted, by the extreame agitation of those blusteringwinds, and torne in peeces by that base back-biter, envy: yet have Inot (for all that) discontinued, or broken any part of mine intendedenterprize. Wherefore, I can sufficiently witnesse (by mine ownecomprehension) the saying so much observed by the wise, to bee mosttrue; That nothing is without envy in this world, but misery onely.

  Among variety of opinions, faire Ladies; some, seeing these Novelties,spared not to say; That I have bene over-pleasing to you, and wanderedtoo farre from mine owne respect, imbasing my credit and repute, bydelighting my selfe too curiously, for the fitting of your humours,and have extolled your worth too much, with addition of worse speechesthen I meane to utter. Others, seeming to expresse more maturityof judgment, have likewise said, That it was very unsuteable formy yeares, to meddle with womens wanton pleasures, or contend todelight you by the verie least of my labours. Many more, making shew ofaffecting my good fame and esteeme, say; I had done much more wisely,to have kept mee with the Muses at _Parnassus_, then to confound mystudies with such effeminate follies. Some other beside, speaking moredespightfully then discreetly, saide; I had declared more humanity, inseeking means for mine owne maintenance, and wherewith to support mycontinuall necessities, then to glut the worlde with gulleries, andfeede my hopes with nothing but winde. And others, to calumniate mytravailes, would make you beleeve, that such matters as I have spokenof, are meerly disguised by me, and figured in a quite contrary nature,quite from the course as they are related. Whereby you may perceive(vertuous Ladies) how while I labour in your service, I am agitated andmolested with these blusterings, and bitten even to the bare bones,by the sharpe and venomous teeth of envy; all which (as heaven bestknoweth) I gladly endure, and with good courage.

  Now, albeit it belongeth onely to you, to defend me in this desperateextremity; yet, notwithstanding all their utmost malice, I will make nospare of my best abilities, and, without answering them any otherwisethen is fitting, will quietly keepe their slanders from mine eares,with some sleight reply, yet not deserving to be dreamt on. For Iapparantly perceive, that (having not already attained to the thirdpart of my pains) they are growne to so great a number, and presumevery farre uppon my patience: they may encrease, except they berepulsed in the beginning, to such an infinitie before I can reach tothe end, as with their verie least paines taking, they will sinke me tothe bottomlesse depth, if your sacred forces (which are great indeede)may not serve for me in their resistance. But before I come to answerany one of them, I will relate a Tale in mine owne favour; yet not awhole Tale, because it shall not appeare, that I purpose to minglemine, among those which are to proceed from a company so commendable.Onely I will report a parcell thereof, to the end, that what remainethuntold, may sufficiently expresse, it is not to be numbred among therest to come.

  By way then of familiar discourse, and speaking to my maliciousdetractors, I say, that a long while since, there lived in our City,a Citizen who was named _Philippo Balduccio_, a man but of meanecondition, yet verie wealthy, well qualified, and expert in manythings appertaining unto his calling. He had a wife whom he loved mostintirely, as she did him, leading together a sweet and peaceable life,studying on nothing more, then how to please each other mutually.It came to passe, that as all flesh must, the good woman left thiswretched life for a better, leaving one onely sonne to her husband,about the age of two yeares. The husband remained so disconsolatefor the losse of his kinde Wife, as no man possibly could be moresorrowfull, because he had lost the onely jewell of his joy. And beingthus divided from the company which he most esteemed: he determinedalso to separate himselfe from the world, addicting al his endeavoursto the service of God; and applying his yong sonne likewise, to thesame holy exercises. Having given away all his goods for Gods sake, hedeparted to the Mountaine _Asinaio_, where he made him a small Cell,and lived there with his little sonne, onely upon charitable almes, inabstinence and prayer, forbearing to speak of any worldly occasions,or letting the Lad see any vaine sight: but conferred with himcontinually, on the glories of eternall life, of God and his Saints,and teaching him nothing elsee but devout prayers, leading this kindeof life for many yeares together, not permitting him ever to goe forthof the Cell, or shewing him any other but himselfe.

  The good old man used divers times to go to _Florence_, where havingreceived (according to his opportunities) the almes of divers welldisposed people, he returned backe againe to his hermitage. Itfortuned, that the boy being now about eighteene yeeres olde, and hisFather growne very aged; he demanded of him one day, whether hee went?Wherein the old man truly resolved him: whereuppon, the youth thusspake unto him. Father, you are now growne very aged, and hardly canendure such painfull travell: why do you not let me go to _Florence_,that by making me knowne to your well disposed friends, such as aredevoutly addicted both to God, and you; I, who am young, and betterable to endure travaile then you are, may go thither to supply ournecessities, and you take your ease in the mean while? The aged man,perceiving the great growth of his Sonne, and thinking him to be sowell instructed in Gods service, as no wordly vanities could easilyallure him from it; did not dislike the Lads honest motion, but when hewent next to _Florence_, tooke him thither along with him.

  When he was there, and had seene the goodly Palaces, Houses, andChurches, with all other sights to be seene in so populous a Cittie:hee began greatly to wonder at them, as one that had never seene thembefore, at least within the compasse of his remembrance; demanding manythings of his Father, both what they were, and how they were named:wherein the old man still resolved him. The answers seemed to contenthim highly, and caused him to proceede on in further questionings,according still as they found fresh occasions: till at the last, theymet with a troope of very beautifull women, going on in seemely mannertogether, as returning backe from a Wedding. No sooner did the youthbehold them, but he demanded of his Father, what things they were;whereto the olde man replyed thus. Sonne, cast downe thy lookes untothe ground, and do not seeme to see them at all, because they are badthings to behold. Bad things Father? answered the Lad: How do you callthem? The good olde man, not to quicken any concupiscible appetite inthe young boy, or any inclinable desire to ought but goodnesse; wouldnot terme them by their proper name of Women, but tolde him that theywere called young Gozlings.

  Heere grew a matter of no meane mervaile, that hee who had never seeneany women before now; appeared not to respect the faire Churches,Palaces, goodly horses, Golde, Silver, or any thing elsee which he hadseene; but, as fixing his affection onely upon this sight, sodainlysaid to the old man. Good Father, do so much for me, as to let mehave one of these Gozlings. Alas Sonne (replyed the Father) holde thypeace I pray thee, and do not desire any such naughty things. Then byway of demand, he thus proceeded, saying. Father, are these naughtythings made of themselves? Yes Sonne, answered the old man. I know notFather (quoth the Lad) what you meane by naughtinesse, nor why thesegoodly things should be so badly termed; but in my judgement, I havenot seene any thing so faire and pleas
ing in mine eye, as these are,who excell those painted Angelse, which heere in the Churches you haveshewn me. And therefore Father, if either you love me, or have any careof me, let mee have one of these Gozlings home to our Cell, where wecan make means sufficient for her feeding. I will not (said the Father)be so much thine enemy, because neither thou, or I, can rightly skillof their feeding. Perceiving presently, that Nature had farre greaterpower then his Sonnes capacity and understanding; which made himrepent, for fondly bringing his sonne to _Florence_.

  Having gone so farre in this fragment of a Tale, I am content topause heere, and will returne againe to them of whom I spake before;I meane my envious depravers: such as have saide (faire Ladies) thatI am double blame-worthy, in seeking to please you, and that you arealso over-pleasing to me; which freely I confesse before all theworld, that you are singularly pleasing to me, and I have strovenhow to please you effectually. I would demand of them (if they seemeso much amazed heereat,) considering, I never knew what belonged totrue love kisses, amorous embraces, and their delectable fruition,so often received from your graces; but onely that I have seene, anddo yet daily behold, your commendable conditions, admired beauties,noble adornments by nature, and (above all the rest) your womenly andhonest conversation. If hee that was nourished, bred, and educated, ona savage solitary Mountain, within the confines of a poore small Cell,having no other company then his Father: If such a one, I say, upponthe very first sight of your sexe, could so constantly confesse, thatwomen were onely worthy of affection, and the object which (above allthings elsee) he most desired; why should these contumelious spirits somurmure against me, teare my credite with their teeth, and wound myreputation to the death, because your vertues are pleasing to mee, andI endeavour likewise to please you with my utmost paines? Never had theauspitious heavens allowed me life, but onely to love you; and from myvery infancie, mine intentions have alwaies bene that way bent: feelingwhat vertue flowed from your faire eies, understanding the mellifluousaccents of your speech, whereto the enkindled flames of your sighesgave no meane grace. But remembring especially, that nothing couldso please an Hermite, as your divine perfections, an unnurtured Lad,without understanding, and little differing from a meere brutish beast:undoubtedly, whosoever loveth not women, and desireth to be affected ofthem againe; may well be ranked among these women-haters, speaking outof cankred spleene, and utterly ignorant of the sacred power (as alsothe vertue) of naturall affection, whereof they seeming so carelesse,the like am I of their depraving.

  Concerning them that touch me with mine age; Do not they know, thatalthough Leeks have white heads, yet the blades of them are alwaiesgreene? But referring them to their flouts and taunts, I answer, thatI shal never hold it any disparagement to mee, so long as my lifeendureth, to delight my selfe with those exercises, which _GuidoCavalconti_, and _Dante Alighieri_, already aged, as also _MesserCino de Pistoia_, older then either of them both, held to be theirchiefest honour. And were it not a wandering too farre from our presentargument, I would alledge Histories to approove my words, full of veryancient and famous men, who in the ripest maturity of all their time,were carefully studious for the contenting of women, albeit thesecock-braines neither know the way how to do it, nor are so wise as tolearne it.

  Now, for my dwelling at _Parnassus_ with the Muses, I confesse theircounsell to be very good: but wee cannot alwayes continue with them,nor they with us. And yet neverthelesse, when any man departeth fromthem, they delighting themselves, to see such things as may beethought like them, do not therein deserve to be blamed. Wee finde itrecorded, that the Muses were women, and albeit women cannot equall theperformance of the Muses; yet in their very prime aspect, they have alively resemblance with the Muses: so that, if women were pleasing fornothing elsee, yet they ought to be generally pleasing in that respect.Beside all this, women have bin the occasion of my composing a thousandVerses, whereas the Muses never caused me to make so much as one. Verietrue it is, that they gave me good assistance, and taught me how Ishold compose them, yea, and directed me in writing of these Novelse.And how basely soever they judge of my studies, yet have the Musesnever scorned to dwell with me, perhaps for the respective service, andhonourable resemblance of those Ladies with themselves, whose vertuesI have not spared to commend by them. Wherefore, in the composition ofthese varieties, I have not strayed so farre from _Parnassus_, nor theMuses; as in their silly conjectures they imagine.

  But what shall I say to them, who take so great compassion on mypovertie, as they advise me to get something, whereon to make myliving? Assuredly, I know not what to say in this case, except bydue consideration made with my selfe, how they would answer mee, ifnecessitie should drive me to crave kindnesse of them; questionles,they would then say: Goe, seeke comfort among thy fables and follies.Yet I would have them know, that poore Poets have alwayes found moreamong their fables & fictions; then many rich men ever could do, byransacking all their bags of treasure. Beside, many other might bespoken of, who made their age and times to flourish, meerely by theirinventions and fables: whereas on the contrary, a great number ofother busier braines, seeking to gaine more then would serve them tolive on; have utterly runne uppon their owne ruine, and overthrownethemselves for ever. What should I say more? To such men, as are eitherso suspitious of their owne charitie, or of my necessity, whensoeverit shall happen: I can answere (I thanke my God for it) with theApostle; I know how to abounde, & how to abate, yea, how to endure bothprosperity and want; and therefore, let no man be more carefull of me,then I am of my selfe.

  For them that are so inquisitive into my discourses, to have a furtherconstruction of them, then agrees with my meaning, or their own goodmanners, taxing me with writing one thing, but intending another; Icould wish, that their wisedom would extend so farre, as but to comparethem with their originals, to finde them a jot discordant from mywriting; and then I would freely confesse, that they had some reasonto reprehend me, and I should endeavour to make them amends. But untillthey can touch me with any thing elsee, but words onely; I must let themwander in their owne giddy opinions, and followe the course projectedto my selfe, saying of them, as they do of me.

  Thus holding them all sufficiently answered for this time, I say (mostworthy Ladies) that by heavens assistance and yours, whereto I onelyleane: I will proceede on, armed with patience; and turning my backeagainst these impetuous windes, let them breath till they burst,because I see nothing can happen to harme me, but onely the ventingof their malice. For the roughest blastes, do but raise the smallestdust from off the ground, driving it from one place to another; or,carrying it up to the aire, many times it falleth downe againe on mensheads, yea, upon the Crownes of Emperors and Kings, and sometimes onthe highest Palaces and tops of Towers; from whence, if it chance todescend again by contrarie blasts, it can light no lower, then whenceit came at the first. And therefore, if ever I strove to please youwith my uttermost abilities in any thing, surely I must now contend toexpresse it more then ever. For, I know right well, that no man cansay with reason, except some such as my selfe, who love and honouryou, that we do any otherwise then as nature hath commanded us; and toresist her lawes, requires a greater and more powerfull strength thenours: and the contenders against her supreame priviledges, have eitherlaboured meerely in vaine, or elsee incurred their owne bane. Whichstrength, I freely confesse my selfe not to have, neither covet to bepossessed of it in this case: but if I had it, I wold rather lend itto some other, then any way to use it on mine own behalfe. Wherefore,I would advise them that thus checke and controule mee, to give over,and be silent; and if their cold humours cannot learne to love, let themlive still in their frostie complexion, delighting themselves in theircorrupted appetites: suffering me to enjoy mine owne, for the littlewhile I have to live; and this is all the kindnesse I require of them.

  But now it is time (bright beauties) to returne whence we parted, andto follow our former order begun, because it may seeme we have wanderedtoo farre. By this time the Sun had chased the Starre-light from theheavens, and
the shadie moisture from the ground, when _Philostratus_the King being risen, all the company arose likewise. When being comeinto the goodly Garden, they spent the time in varietie of sports,dining where they had supt the night before. And after that the Sunwas at his highest, and they had refreshed their spirits with a littleslumbering, they sate downe (according to custome) about the faireFountaine. And then the King commanded Madam _Fiammetta_, that sheshould give beginning to the dayes Novelse: when she, without anylonger delaying, began in this gracious manner.