Within a few dayes after, such an occasion hapned, as her husband of necessity must journey to Geneway; and no sooner was hee mounted on horsebacke, taking leave of her and all his friends: but she, being sure hee was gone, went in all hast to her Ghostly Father; and, after a few faigned outward shewes, thus she spake. I must now plainly tell you, holy father, that I can no longer endure this wicked friend of yours; but because I promised you the other day, that I would not do any thing, before I had your counsell therein, I am now come to tell you, the just reason of my anger, and full purpose to avoid all further molestation.
Your friend I cannot terme him, but (questionles) a very divel of hell. This morning, before the breake of day, having heard (but how, I know not) that my husband was ridden to Geneway: got over the wall into my Garden, and climbing up a tree which standeth close before my chamber window, when I was fast asleepe, opened the Casement, and would have entred in at the window. But, by great good fortune, I awaked, and made shew of an open out-cry: but that he entreated mee, both for Gods sake and yours, to pardon him this error, and never after he would presume any more to offend me. When he saw, that (for your sake) I was silent, he closed fast the window againe, departed as he came, and since I never saw him, or heard any tidings of him. Now judge you, holy Father, whether these be honest courses, or no, and to be endured by any civil Gentlewoman; neither would I so patiently have suffered this, but onely in my dutifull reverence to you.
The Ghostly Father hearing this, became the sorrowfullest man in the world, not knowing how to make her any answer, but only demanded of her divers times, whether she knew him so perfectly, that she did not mistake him for some other? Quoth she, I would I did not know him from any other. Alas deere daughter (replied the Frier) what can more be sayd in this case, but that it was over-much boldnesse, and very il done; & thou shewedst thy selfe a worthy wise woman, in sending him away so mercifully, as thou didst. Once more I would entreat thee (deare and vertuous daughter) seeing grace hath hitherto kept thee from dishonour, and twice already thou hast credited my counsell, let me now advise thee this last time. Spare speech, or complaining to any other of thy friends, and leave it to me, to try if I can overcome this unchained divel, whom I tooke to be a much more holy man. If I can recall him from this sensuall appetite, I shall account my labour well employed; but if I cannot do it, henceforward (with my blessed benediction) I give thee leave to do, even what thy heart will best tutor thee to. You see Sir (said shee) what manner of man he is, yet would I not have you troubled or disobeyed, only I desire to live without disturbance, which work (I beseech you) as best you may: for I promise you, good Father, never to solicite you more uppon this occasion: And so, in a pretended rage, shee returned backe from the ghostly Father.
Scarsely was she gone forth of the Church, but in commeth the man that had (supposedly) so much transgressed; and the Fryer taking him aside, gave him the most injurious words that could be used to a man, calling him disloyall, perjured, and a traitor. Hee who had formerly twice perceived, how high the holy mans anger mounted, did nothing but expect what he wold say; and, like a man extreamly perplexed, strove how to get it from him, saying; Holy Father, how come you to be so heinously offended? What have I done to incense you so strangely? Heare mee dishonest wretch answered the Frier, listen what I shall say unto thee. Thou answerest me, as if it were a yeare or two past, since so foule abuses were by thee committed, & they almost quite out of thy remembrance. But tell me wicked man, where wast thou this morning, before breake of the day? Wheresoever I was, replyed the Gentleman, mee thinkes the tidings come very quickly to you. It is true, said the Frier, they are speedily come to me indeed, and upon urgent necessity.
After a little curbing in of his wrath, somewhat in a milder strain, thus he proceeded. Because the Gentlewomans husband is journeyed to Geneway, proves this a ladder to your hope, that to embrace her in your armes, you must climbe over the Garden wall, like a treacherous robber in the night season, mount up a tree before her Chamber window, open the Casement, as hoping to compasse that by importunity, which her spotlesse chastity will never permit. There is nothing in the world, that possibly she can hate more then you, and yet you will love her whether she will or no. Many demonstrations her selfe hath made to you, how retrograde you are to any good conceit of her, & my loving admonishments might have had better successe in you, then as yet they shewe by outward apparance. But one thing I must tell you, her silent sufferance of your injuries all this while, hath not bin in any respect of you, but at my earnest entreaties, and for my sake. But now shee will be patient no longer, and I have given her free license, if ever heereafter you offer to attempt her any more, to make her complaint before her Brethren, which will redound to your no meane danger.
The Gentleman, having wisely collected his Love-lesson out of the Holy Fathers angry words, pacified the good old man so wel as he could with very solemne promises and protestations, that he should heare (no more) any misbehaviour of his. And being gone from him, followed the instructions given in her complaint, by climbing over the Garden Wall, ascending the Tree, and entering at the Casement, standing ready open to welcome him. Thus the Friers simplicity, wrought on by her most ingenuous subtiltie, made way to obtaine both their longing desires.
A yong Scholler, named Felice, enstructed Puccio di Rinieri, how to become rich in a very short time. While Puccio made experience of the instructions taught him; Felice obtained the favour of his Daughter.
The fourth Novell.
Wherein is declared, what craft and subtilty some wily wits can devise, 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 Gentlewomans quaint 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, and thus began. Madame, many men there are, who while they strive to climbe from a good estate, to a seeming better; doe become in much worse condition then they were before. As happened to a neighbour of ours, and no long time since, as the accident will better acquaint you withall.
According as I have heard it reported, neere to Saint Brancazio, there dwelt an honest man, and some-what rich, who was called Puccio di Rinieri, and who addicted all his paines and endeavours to Alchimy: wherefore, he kept no other family, but onely a widdowed daughter, and a servant; and because he had no other Art or exercise, hee used often to frequent the market place. And in regard he was but a weake witted man, and a gourmand or grosse feeder; his language was the more harsh and rude, like to our common Porters or loutish men, and his carriage also absurd, boore-like, and clownish. His daughter, being named Monna Isabetta, aged not above eight and twenty, or thirty yeers; was a fresh indifferent faire, plumpe, round woman, cherry cheekt, like a Queene-Apple; and, to please her Father, fed not so sparingly, as otherwise she wold have done, but when she communed or jested with any body, she would talke of nothing, but onely concerning the great vertue in Alchimy, extolling it above all other Arts.
Much about this season of the yeare, there returned a young Scholler from Paris, named Felice, faire of complexion, comely of person, ingeniously witted, and skilfully learned, who (soone after) grew into familiarity with Puccio: now because he could resolve him in many doubts, depending on his profession of Alchimy, (himselfe having onely practise, but no great learning) he used many questions to him, shewed him very especiall matters of secrecy, entertaining him often to dinners and suppers, whensoever he pleased to come and converse with him; and his daughter likewise, perceiving with what favour her Father respected him, became the more familiar with him, allowing him good regard and reverence.
The young man continuing his resort to the House of Puccio, and observing the widow to be faire, fresh, and prettily formall; he began to consider with himselfe, what those things might be, wherein shee was most wanting; and (if he could) to save anothers lab
our, supply them by his best endeavours. Thus not alwayes carrying his eyes before him, but using many backe and circumspect regards, he proceeded so farre in his wylie apprehensions, that (by a few sparkes close kept together) he kindled part of the same fire in her, which began to flame apparantly in him. And he very wittily observing the same, as occasion first smiled on him, and allowed him favourable opportunity, so did hee impart his intention to her.
Now albeit he found her plyant enough, to gaine physick for her owne griefe, as soone as his; yet the meanes and manner were (as yet) quite out of all apprehension. For shee in no other part of the World, would trust her selfe in the young mans company, but onely in her Fathers house; 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 of the 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 his happinesse 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 began to speake unto him in this manner; I have many times noted, kinde friend Puccio, that all thy desire and endeavour is, by what meanes thou mayest become very rich, wherein (me thinkes) thou takest too wide a course, when there is a much neere and shorter way, which Mighell, Scotus, and other his associates, very diligently observed and followed, yet were never willing to instruct other men therein; whereby the misterie might be drowned in oblivion, and prosecuted by none but onely great Lords, that are able to undergoe it. But because thou art mine especiall friend, and I have received from thee infinite kind favours; whereas I never intended, that any man (by me) should be acquainted with so rare a secret; if thou wilt imitate the course as I shall shew thee, I purpose to teach it thee in full perfection. Puccio being very earnestly desirous to understand the speediest way to so singular a mysterie, first began to entreat him (with no meane instance) to acquaint him with the rules of so rich a Science; and afterward sware unto him, never to disclose it to any person, except hee 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 solemne promise, I will make it knowne unto thee.
Know then friend Puccio, the Philosophers do hold, that such as covet to become rich indeed, must understand how to make the Stone: as I will tell thee how, but marke the manner very heedfully. I do not say, that after the Stone is obtained, thou shalt be even as rich as now thou art; 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 to go or come with Aqua fortis, as now they do. Most expedient is it therefore, that when a man will go diligently about this businesse, and purposeth to prosecute such a singular labour, which will and must continue for the space of 40 nights, he must give very carefull attendance, wholly abstaining from sleepe, slumbering, or so much as nodding all that while.
Moreover, in some apt and convenient place of thy house, there must be a forge or furnace erected, framed in decent and formall fashion, and neere it a large table placed, ordered in such sort, as standing upright on thy feete, and leaning the reines of thy backe against it; thou must stande stedfastly in that manner every night, without the least motion or stirring, untill the breake of day appeareth, and thine eyes still uppon the Furnace fixed, to keepe ever in memory, the true 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, and afterward go about thy businesse, if thou have any. Then go to dinner, attending readily till the evenings approach, preparing such things as I will readily set thee downe in writing, without which there is not 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 fully expired, thou shalt perceive many apparant signes, that the stone is still in absolute forwardnesse, but it will bee utterly lost if thou fayle in the least of all the observances. And when the experience hath crowned thy labour, thou art sure to have the Philosophers stone, and thereby shalt be able to enrich all, and worke wonders beside.
Puccio instantly replied. Now trust me Sir, there is no great difficultie in this labour; neither doth it require any extraordinary length 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, I will 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: which shee immediately understood sufficiently, and what would ensue on his nightly watching in that manner, returning him answer, that whatsoever he liked and allowed of, it became not her any way to mislike. Thus they continued in this kinde concordance, till Sunday night came. When Puccio was to begin his experience, and Felice to set forward upon his adventure. Concluded it was, that every night the Scholler must come 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 the Philosophers Stone, was close to the Chamber where his daughter lay, having no other separation or division, but an old ruinous tottring wall. So that, when the Scholler was playing his prize, Puccio heard an unwonted noise in the house, which he had never observed before, neither knew the wall to have any such motion: wherefore, not daring to stirre from his standing, least all should be marrd in the very beginning, he called to his daughter, demanding, what busie labour she was about? The widdow, being much addicted to frumping, according as questions were demanded of her, and (perhaps) forgetting who spake to her, pleasantly replied: Whoop Sir, where are we now? Are the Spirits of Alchimy walking in the house, that we cannot lye quietly in our beds?
Puccio mervailing at this answer, knowing she never gave him the like before; demanded againe, what she did? The subtle wench, remembring that she had not answered as became her, said: Pardon mee Father, my wits were not mine owne, when you demanded such a sodaine question; and I have heard you say an hundred times, that when folke go supperles to bed, either they walke in their sleepe, or being awake, talke very idely, 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 olde wall totter: but I see I was deceived, for now it is quiet and still enough. Talke no more good Father, saide she, least you stirre from your place, and hinder your labour: take no care for mee, I am able enough to have care of my selfe.
To prevent any more of these nightly disturbances, they went to lodge in another part of the house, where they continued out the time of Puccioes paines, with equall contentment to them both, which made her divers times say to Felice: You teach my father the cheefe grounds of Alchimy, while we helpe to waste away his treasure. Thus the Scholler 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 the Philosophers Stone, Isabetta joyned in marriage with Felice, to make him amends for enstructing her father, by which meanes he came to be her husband.
Ricciardo, surnamed the Magnifico, gave a Horse to Signior Francesco Vergellisi, upon condition, that (by his leave and lisence) he might speake to his Wife in his presence; which he did, and shee not returning him any answere, made answer to himselfe on her behalfe, and according to his answer, so the effect followed.
The fifth Novell.
Wherein is described the frailety of some Women, and folly of such Husbands, as leave them alone to their owne disposition.
PAMPHILUS HAVING ENDED the Novell of Puccio the Alchimist, the Qu
eene fixing her eye on Madam Eliza, gave order, that shee should succeede with hers next. When shee looking somewhat more austerely, then any of the rest, not in any spleen, but as it was her usuall manner, thus began. The World containeth some particular people who doe beleeve (because themselves know something) that others are ignorant in all things; who for the most part, while they intend to make a scorne of other men, upon the proofe, doe finde themselves to carry away the scorne. And therefore I account it no meane follie in them, who (upon no occasion) will tempt the power of another mans wit or experience. But because all men and women (perhaps) are not of mine opinion; I meane that you shall perceive it more apparantly, by an accident happening to a Knight of Pistoia, as you shall heare by me related.
In the Towne of Pistoia, bordering upon Florence, there lived not long since, a Knight named Signior Francesco; descended of the linage or family of the Vergellisi, a man very rich, wise, and in many things provident, but gripple, covetous, and too close handed, without respect to his worth and reputation. He being called to the Office of Podesta in the City of Millaine, furnished himselfe with all things (in honourable manner) beseeming such a charge; only, a comely horse (for his owne saddle) excepted, which he knew not by any meanes how to compasse, so loath he was to lay out money, albeit his credit much depended thereon.
At the same time, there lived in Pistoya likewise, a young man, named Ricciardo, derived of meane birth, but very wealthy, quicke witted, and of commendable person, alwayes going so neate, fine, and formall in his apparrell, that he was generally tearmed the Magnifico, who had long time affected, yea, and closely courted, (though without any advantage or successe) the Lady and Wife of Signior Francesco, who was very beautifull, vertuous, and chaste. It so chanced, that this Magnifico had the very choysest and goodliest ambling Gelding in all Tuscanie, which he loved dearely, for his faire forme, and other good parts. Upon a flying rumor throughout Pistoria, that he daily made love to the fore-said Lady: some busie body, put it into the head of Signior Francesco, that if he pleased to request the Gelding, the Magnifico would frankly give it him, in regard of the love he bare to his Wife.
Collected Works of Giovanni Boccaccio Page 28
