Collected Works of Giovanni Boccaccio

by Giovanni Boccaccio

  In the morning, when the King was risen, he gave command that before the Pallace gates were opened, all his whole Family should come before him, as instantly his will was fulfilled. Standing all uncovered in his presence, he began to consider with himselfe, which of them was the man that he had marked. And seeing the most part of them to have their lockes cut, all after one and the selfe same manner; marvailing greatly, he saide to himselfe. The man whom I seeke for, though he be but of meane and base condition, yet it plainely appeareth, that he is of no deject or common understanding. And seeing, that without further clamour and noyse, he could not find out the party he looked for; he concluded, not to win eternall shame, by compassing a poore revenge: but rather (by way of admonition) to let the offender know in a word, that he was both noted and observed. So turning to them all, he saide; He that hath done it, let him be silent, and doe so no more, and now depart about your businesse.

  Some other turbulent spirited man, no imprisonments, tortures, examinations, and interrogatories, could have served his turne; by which course of proceeding, he makes the shame to be publikely knowne, which reason requireth to keepe concealed. But admit that condigne vengeance were taken, it diminisheth not one title of the shame, neither qualifieth the peoples bad affections, who will lash out as liberally in scandall, and upon the very least babling rumor. Such therefore as heard the Kings words, few though they were, yet truly wise; marvelled much at them, and by long examinations among themselves, questioned, but came far short of his meaning; the man onely excepted, whom indeede they concerned, and by whom they were never discovered, so long as the King lived, neither did he dare at any time after, to hazard his life in the like action, under the frownes or favour of Fortune.

  Under colour of Confession, and of a most pure conscience, a faire young Gentlewoman, being amourously affected to an honest man; induced a devoute and solemne religious Friar, to advise her in the meanes (without his suspition or perceiving) how to enjoy the benefit of her friend, and bring her desires to their full effect.

  The third Novell.

  Declaring, that the leude and naughty qualities of some persons, doe oftentimes misguide good people, into very great and greevous errors.

  WHEN MADAM PAMPINEA sate silent, and the Querries boldnesse equalled with his crafty cunning, and great wisedome in the King had passed among them with generall applause; the Queene, turning her selfe to Madam Philomena, appointed her to follow next in order, and to hold rancke with her discourse, as the rest had done before her: whereupon Philomena graciously began in this manner.

  It is my purpose, to acquaint you with a notable mockery, which was performed (not in jest, but earnest) by a faire Gentlewoman, to a grave and devoute religious Friar, which will yeelde so much the more pleasure and recreation, to every secular understander, if but diligently he or shee doe observe; how commonly those religious persons (at least the most part of them) like notorious fooles, are the inventers of new courses and customes, as thinking themselves more wise and skilful in all things then any other; yet prove to be of no worth or validity, addicting the very best of all their devises, to expresse their owne vilenesse of minde, and fatten themselves in their sties, like to pampered Swine. And assure your selves worthy Ladies, that I doe not tell this Tale onely to follow the order enjoyned me; but also to informe you that such Saint-like holy Sirs, of whom we are too opinative and credulous, may be, yea, and are (divers times) cunningly met withall, in their craftinesse, not onely by men, but likewise some of our owne sexe, as I shall make it apparant to you.

  In our owne City (more full of craft and deceit, then love or faithfull dealing) there lived not many yeeres since a Gentlewoman, of good spirit, highly minded, endued with beauty and all commendable qualities, as any other woman (by nature) could be. Her name, or any others, concerned in this Novell, I meane not to make manifest, albeit I know them, because some are yet living, and thereby may be scandalized; and therefore it shall suffice to passe them over with a smile. This Gentlewoman, seeing her selfe to be descended of very great parentage, and (by chance) married to an Artezen, a Clothier or Drapier, that lived by the making and selling of Cloth: shee could not (because he was a Trades-man) take downe the height of her minde; conceiving, that no man of meane condition (how rich soever) was worthy to enjoy a Gentlewoman in marriage. Observing moreover, that with all his wealth and treasure, he understood nothing better, then to open skeines of yarne, fill shuttles, lay webbes in Loomes, or dispute with his Spinsters, about their businesse.

  Being thus over-swayed with her proud opinion, shee would no longer be embraced, or regarded by him in any manner, saving onely because she could not refuse him; but would find some other for her better satisfaction, who might seeme more worthy of her respect, then the Drapier her Husband did. Hereupon shee fell so deepe in love, with a very honest man of our City also, and of indifferent yeeres; as what day shee saw him not, shee could take no rest the night ensuing. The man himselfe knew nothing hereof, and therefore was the more neglect and carelesse, and she being curious, nice, yet wisely considerate; durst not let him understand it, neither by any womans close conveyed message, nor yet by Letters, as fearing the perils which happen in such cases. But her eye observing his daily walkes and resorts, gave her notice of his often conversing with a religious Friar, who albeit he was a fat and corpulent man, yet notwithstanding, because he seemed to leade a sanctimonious life, and was reported to be a most honest man; she perswaded her selfe, that he might be the best meanes, betweene her and her friend.

  Having considered with her selfe, what course was best to be observed in this case; upon a day, apt and convenient, shee went to the Convent, where he kept, and having caused him to be called, shee told him, that if his leysure so served, very gladly shee would be confessed, and onely had made her choyce of him. The holy man seeing her, and reputing her to be a Gentlewoman, as indeede shee was no lesse; willingly heard her, and when shee had confessed what shee could, shee had yet another matter to acquaint him withall, and thereupon thus she began.

  Holy Father, it is no more then convenient, that I should have recourse to you, to be assisted by your help and councell, in a matter which I will impart unto you. I know, that you are not ignorant of my parents and husband, of whom I am affected as dearely as his life, for proofe whereof, there is not any thing that I can desire, but immediatly I have it of him, he being a most rich man, and may very sufficiently affoord it. In regard whereof, I love him equally as my selfe, and, setting aside my best endeavours for him; I must tell you one thing, if I should do anything contrary to his liking and honour, no woman can more worthily deserve death, then my selfe. Understand then, good Father, that there is a man, whose name I know not, but hee seemeth to be honest, and of good worth; moreover (if I am not deceived) hee resorteth oftentimes to you, being faire and comely of person, going alwayes in blacke garments of good price and value. This man, imagining (perhaps) no such minde in me, as truely there is; hath often attempted mee, and never can I be at my doore, or window, but hee is alwayes present in my sight, which is not a little displeasing to me; he watcheth my walkes, and much I mervaile, that he is not now here.

  Let me tell you holy Sir, that such behaviours, doe many times lay bad imputations upon very honest women, yet without any offence in them. It hath often run in my minde, to let him have knowledge thereof by my brethren: but afterward I considered, that men (many times) deliver messages in such sort, as draw on very ungentle answeres, whereon grow words, and words beget actions. In which respect, because no harme or scandall should ensue, I thought it best to be silent; determining, to acquaint you rather therewith, then any other, as well because you seeme to be his friend, as also in regard of your office, which priviledgeth you, to correct such abuses, not onely in friends, but also in strangers. Enowe other women there are, (more is the pitty) who (perhaps) are better disposed to such suites, then I am, and can both like and allowe of such courting, otherwise then I can doe; as being willing to embrace such offers, an
d (happily) loath to yeeld deniall. Wherefore, most humbly I entreat you, good Father (even for our blessed Ladies sake) that you would give him a friendly reprehension, and advise him, to use such unmanly meanes no more hereafter. With which words, shee hung downe her head in her bosome, cunningly dissembling, as if shee wept, wiping her eyes with her Handkerchife, when not a teare fell from them, but indeed were dry enough.

  The holy Religious man, so soone as he heard her description of the man, presently knew whom shee meant, and highly commending the Gentlewoman, for her good and vertuous seeming disposition, beleeved faithfully all that shee had said: promising her, to order the matter so well and discreetly, as shee should not be any more offended. And knowing her to be a woman of great wealth (after all their usuall manner, when they cast forth their fishing nets for gaine:) liberally he commended Almes-deedes, and dayly workes of charity, recounting to her (beside) his owne perticular necessities. Then, giving him two pieces of gold, she said. I pray you (good Father) to be mindfull of me, and if he chance to make any deniall: tell him boldly, that I spake it my selfe to you, and by the way of a sad complaint her confession being ended, and penance easie enough enjoyned her, shee promised to make her parents bountifull benefactours to the Convent, and put more money into his hand, desiring him in his Masses, to remember the soules of her deceased friends, and so returned home to her house.

  Within a short while after her departure, the Gentleman, of whom she had made this counterfeit complaint, came thither, as was his usuall manner, and having done his duty to the holy Father; they sate downe together privately, falling out of one discourse into another. At the length, the Frier (in very loving and friendly sort) mildly reproved him, for such amorous glaunces, and other pursuites, which (as he thought) hee dayly used to the Gentlewoman, according to her owne speeches. The Gentleman mervailed greatly thereat, as one that had never seene her, and very sildome passed by the way where she dwelt, which made him the bolder in his answeres; wherein the Confessour interrupting him, said. Never make such admiration at the matter, neither waste more words in these stout denials, because they cannot serve thy turne: I tell thee plainely, I heard it not from any neighbours, but even of her owne selfe, in a very sorrowfull and sad complaint. And though (perhaps) hereafter, thou canst very hardly refraine such follies; yet let mee tell thee so much of her (and under the seale of absolute assurance) that she is the onely woman of the world, who (in my true judgement) doth hate and abhorre all such base behaviour. Wherefore, in regard of thine owne honour, as also not to vexe & prejudice so vertuous a Gentlewoman: I pray thee refrain such idlenes henceforward, & suffer hir to live in peace.

  The Gentleman, being a little wiser then his ghostly Father, perceived immediatly (without any further meditating on the matter) the notable pollicie of the woman: whereupon, making somewhat bashfull appearance of any error already committed; hee said, hee would afterward be better advised. So, departing from the Frier, he went on directly, to passe by the house where the Gentlewoman dwelt, and she stood alwayes ready on her watch, at a little window, to observe, when hee should walke that way: And seeing him comming, she shewed her selfe so joyfull, and gracious to him, as he easily understood, whereto the substance of the holy Fathers chiding tended. And, from that time forward, hee used dayly, though in covert manner (to the no little liking of the Gentlewoman and himselfe) to make his passage through that streete, under colour of some important occasions there, concerning him.

  Soone after, it being plainely discerned on either side, that the one was as well contented with these walkes, as the other could be: shee desired to enflame him a little further, by a more liberall illustration of her affection towards him, when time and place affoorded convenient opportunity. To the holy Father againe shee went, (for shee had been too long from shrift) and kneeling downe at his feete, intended to begin her confession in teares; which the Friar perceiving, sorrowfully demanded of her, what new accident had happened? Holy Father (quoth shee) no novell accident, but onely your wicked and ungracious friend, by whom (since I was here with you, yea, no longer agoe then yesterday) I have beene so wronged, as I verily beleeve that hee was borne to be my mortall enemie, and to make me doe something to my utter disgrace for ever; and whereby I shall not dare to be seene any more of you, my deare Father. How is this? answered the Friar, hath he not refrained from afflicting you so abusively?

  Pausing a while, and breathing foorth many a dissembled sigh, thus shee replyed. No truly, holy Father, there is no likelyhood of his abstaining; for since I made my complaint to you, he belike taking it in evill part, to be contraried in his wanton humours, hath (meerely in despight) walked seaven times in a day by my doore, whereas formerly, he never used it above once or twice. And well were it (good Father) if he could be contented with those walkes, and gazing glaunces which hee dartes at me: but growne he is so bolde and shamelesse, that even yesterday, (as I tolde you) he sent a woman to me, one of his Pandoraes, as it appeared, and as if I had wanted either Purses or Girdles, he sent me (by her) a Purse and a Girdle. Whereat I grew so grievously offended, as had it not beene for my due respect and feare of God, and next the sacred reverence I beare to you my ghostly Father; doubtlesse, I had done some wicked deede. Neverthelesse, happily I withstood it, and will neither say or doe any thing in this case, till first I have made it knowne to you.

  Then I called to minde, that having redelivered the Purse and Girdle to his shee messenger, (which brought them) with lookes sufficient to declare my discontentment: I called her backe againe, fearing least shee would keepe them to her selfe, and make him beleeve, that I had received them (as I have heard such kind of women use to doe sometimes) and in anger I snatcht them from her, and have brought them hither to you, to the end that you may give him them againe; and tell him, I have no neede of any such things, thankes be to Heaven and my husband, as no woman can be better stored then I am. Wherefore good Father, purposely am I now come to you, and I beseech you accept my just excuse, that if he will not abstaine from thus molesting me, I will disclose it to my Husband, Father, and Brethren, whatsoever shall ensue thereon: for I had rather he should receive the injury (if needs it must come) then I to be causelesly blamed for him; wherein good Father tell me, if I doe not well. With many counterfet sobbes, sighes, and teares, these wordes were delivered; and drawing foorth from under her gowne, a very faire and rich purse, as also a Girdle of great worth, shee threw them into the Friers lap.

  He verily beleeving all this false report, being troubled in his minde thereat beyond measure, tooke the Gentlewoman by the hand, saying: Daughter, if thou be offended at these impudent follies, assuredly I cannot blame thee, not will any wise man reproove thee for it; and I commend thee for following my counsell. But let me alone for schooling of my Gentleman: ill hath he kept his promise made to mee; wherefore, in regard of his former offence, as also this other so lately committed, I hope to set him in such a heate, as shall make him leave off from further injurying thee. And in Gods name, suffer not thy selfe to be conquered by choler, in disclosing this to thy kindred or husband, because too much harme may ensue thereon. But feare not any wrong to thy selfe; for, both before God and men, I am a true witnesse of thine honesty and vertue.

  Now began she to appeare somewhat better comforted; & forbearing to play on this string any longer, as wel knowing the covetousnes of him and his equals, she said. Holy Father, some few nights past, me thought in my sleepe, that divers spirits of my kindred appeared to me in a vision, who (me thought) were in very great paines, and desired nothing els but Almes; especially my God-mother, who seemed to bee afflicted with such extreme poverty, that it was most pittifull to behold. And I am half perswaded, that her torments are the greater, seeing mee troubled with such an enemy to goodnesse. Wherefore (good Father) to deliver her soule and the others, out of those fearfull flames; among your infinite other devout prayers, I would have you to say the fortie Masses of S. Gregory, as a meanes for their happy deliverance, and so she put ten ducates into his han
d. Which the holy man accepted thankfully, and with good words, as also many singular examples, confirmed her bountifull devotion: and when he had given her his benediction, home she departed.

  After that the Gentlewoman was gone, hee sent for his friend, whom she so much seemed to be troubled withall; and when he was come, hee beholding his Holy Father to looke discontentedly: thought, that now he should heare some newes from his Mistresse, and therefore expected what he would say. The Frier, falling into the course of his former reprehensions, but yet in more rough and impatient manner, sharpely checkt him for his immodest behaviour towards the Gentlewoman, in sending her the Purse and Girdle. The Gentleman, who as yet could not guesse whereto his speeches tended; somewhat coldly and temperately, denied the sending of such tokens to her, to the end that he would not be utterly discredited with the good man, if so bee the Gentlewoman had shewne him any such things. But then the Frier, waxing much more angry, sternly said. Bad man as thou art, how canst thou deny a manifest trueth? See sir, these are none of your amorous tokens? No, I am sure you doe not know them, nor ever saw them till now.

  The Gentleman, seeming as if he were much ashamed, saide. Truely Father I do know them, and confesse that I have done ill, and very greatly offended: but now I will sweare unto you, seeing I understande how firmely she is affected, that you shall never heare any more complaints of me. Such were his vowes and protestations, as in the end the ghostly Father gave him both the Purse and Girdle: then after he had preached, & severely conjured him, never more to vexe her with any gifts at all, and he binding himselfe thereto by a solemne promise, he gave him license to depart. Now grew the Gentleman very jocond, being so surely certified of his Mistresses love, and by tokens of such worthy esteeme; wherefore no sooner was hee gone from the Frier, but hee went into such a secret place, where he could let her behold at her Window, what precious tokens he had receyved from her, whereof she was extraordinarily joyfull, because her devices grew still better and better; nothing now wanting, but her husbands absence, upon some journey from the City, for the full effecting of her desire.