Collected Works of Giovanni Boccaccio
Page 352
And having thus said, he said after many other things softly which he added unto his prayers. And these being ended and he a while silent, the stars gave not their light in vain. For more swifter than the flight of swiftest bird Questions Of Love there appeared before him a chariot drawn by two dragons, whereupon he mounted, and taking the reins of the bridles of the two bridled dragons in his hand, was carried into the air.
He then leaving Spain and all Africa took his journey by other regions and first sought for the Isle of Crete. And from thence after with a short course he sought Pelion, Othrys and Ossa, Mount Nerium, Pachinus, Pelorus, and Appenine. Upon them all, plucking up and with a sharp sickle cutting such roots and herbs as best liked him, neither forgot he those which he had before gathered when he was found by Tarolfo in Thessaly. He took stones also upon the mount Caucasus and on the sands of Ganges; and out of Lybia he brought lungs of venemous serpents.
He searched the watery banks of Rodanus, of Seine at Paris and the great Po, of Arnus, of the imperial Tiber, of Niscus, of Tana and Danube; on those eke gathering such herbs as seemed to him most necessary for his purpose, putting these together with the others gathered on the tops of the savage mountains.
He also sought the islands of Lesbos and Patmos and every other wherein he perceived any profitable thing to be had for his attempt.
With all which things he came (the third day being not yet passed) to that place from whence he departed and the dragons that only had felt the odor of the gathered herbs did cast off their old hides of many years and were with new renewed and became young. There he dismounted from his chariot and on the green earth he made two altars, on his right hand that of Hecates and on the left that of the running goddess. That being done and devout fires kindled thereupon, with locks dispersed upon his old shoulders, he began with a murmuring noise to go about the same and with let blood oftentimes he bespread the blazing brands.
After he placed the same blood upon the altars sometimes softening therewithal appointed for his garden, and after that he softened again the selfsame three times, with fire, water and sulphur, setting after a great vessel full of blood, milk and water upon the burning brands, which he caused to boil a good space, and put thereto the herbs and roots gathered in strange places, mingling therewith also divers seeds and flowers of unknown herbs, he added thereto stones, sought in the extreme parts of the east, and dew gathered the nights past, together with the flesh of infamous witches, the stones of a wolf, the hinder part of a fat Cyniphis and the skin of a Chilinder. And lastly a liver, with the lungs of an exceeding old hart and herewithal a thousand other things, both without name and so strange as my memory cannot again tell them.
After he took a dry bough of an olive tree and therewith began to mingle all these things together, in doing whereof the dry bough began to wax green and within a while after to bear leaves; and not long after the new apparelling thereof, it was laden with black olives. As Theban saw this he took the boiling liquors and began therewithal to sprinkle and water in every place the chosen soil, whereon he had set slips of so many woods as he would have trees, and of as many sorts as could be found.
The which liquor the earth had no sooner tasted but that it began to spring, yielding flowers and new herbs, and the dry slips began to become all green and fruitful plants.
All this being done, Theban entering the city returned to Tarolfo, whom he found all in a muse, fearing to be scorned through his long abode. To whom he said: “Tarolfo, the thing you required is done to your liking.”
This news pleased Tarolfo not a little, and happening the day following to be a great solemnity in the city, he went into the presence of his loved lady, who had not now seen him for a long time past. And thus he said to her:
“Madame, after a long and tedious travail I have performed that which you have commanded, and whenas it shall please you to see it or to take it, it is ready at your pleasure.”
She in seeing him marvelled much, and the more hearing what he said and not believing the same to be true, made him this answer: “It pleaseth me right well. You shall let me see it tomorrow.”
The second day was come and Tarolfo went again to his lady and said: “Madame, may it please you to walk to the garden, the which you required to have this cold month.”
She then, accompanied by many others, was moved to see the same; and they all being come to the garden entered therein by a fair portal, whereas they felt not the cold as abroad but the same to have a sweet temperate air. The lady went about the same and into every corner thereof, gathering both herbs and flowers, whereof she saw it very plentiful. And thus much more also had the virtue of the magical liquors wrought; the fruits which August was accustomed to bring forth, the trees there in this savage time did yield them very fair, whereof sundry did eat that accompanied the lady thither.
This garden seemed to the lady exceeding fair and admirable, neither did she think to have ever seen the like, and since she sundry ways knew it to be a true garden and the knight to have performed her request, she came toward him and said: “Without doubt, Sir Knight, you have deserved my love, and I am ready to stand to my promise. But I would pray of you this favour: that it would please you to tarry the time or ever you require me to your desire, that my knight be gone a-hunting or into some other place out of the city, to the end you may the more safely and without any suspicion take your delight of me.”
This contented Tarolfo, who left her the garden and so departed. This garden was manifest to the whole country although never a one knew of a long time how it came to pass. And the lady that had now received it all sorrowful departed from the same. Returning to her chamber full of noisome care and grief, bethinking her in what way she might return back according to her promise; and as not finding any lawful excuse, so much the more increased her care. The which thing her husband espying began many times and often to marvel thereat, and to ask the cause of that her grief, to whom she answered: that she ailed nothing, being bashful to discover to him her given promise for her craved gift, doubting lest in so doing he should account her for lewd. Lastly she being unable to withstand the continual instigations of her husband that now still importunately desired to know the cause of her annoy, discoursed the same unto him from the beginning to the end, and that therefor she abode thus pensive.
The husband hearing this of long time suspected no less and thereby knowing in his conceit the purity of the lady, thus said unto her: “Go and covertly keep your oath and liberally perform to Tarolfo what you have promised. For he has with his great toil, of rights deserved the same.”
And having thus said the lady began to weep and to say unto him: “‘The gods keep me far from such a fault, in no wise will I so do. I will rather rid myself of life than do anything displeasing to you or dishonour to your person.”
To whom the knight replied saying: “Wife for this matter that I will that you do no injury to yourself neither yet conceive any grief therefor. For in no wise shall it displease me. Go therefor and perform what you have promised. For you shall never be never a whit less dear to me but as you have performed this your promise to take you better heed hereafter of such like although a demanded gift may seem unto you impossible to be had.”
As the lady perceived the will of her husband she decked and trimmed her and made herself very fair; took company with her and so went to Tarolfo’s lodging and bepainted with bashfulness presented herself unto him. Tarolfo as soon as he saw her all marvelling rose from Theban and encountered her with great gladness and very honourable received her demanding the cause of her coming.
To whom she answered: “I am come to be wholly at your will. Do with me as it pleases you.”
Then said Tarolfo: “You make me to muse above measure considering the time and the company wherewith you are come. This cannot be without some great alteration between you and your husband. Tell me therefor, I pray you, how the matter goes.”
The lady then showed Tarolfo fully in order the whole matter and how
it went, the which Tarolfo hearing he began then to enter into a far greater admiration than he had ever done before. And greatly to bethink him thereof and so in the end to conceive the great liberality of the husband that had sent his wife unto him. Whereupon he said to himself: whatsoever he be that should so much as but think villainy toward such a knight were surely worthy of great blame.
And so taking and talking with the lady he thus said unto her: “Madame, like a worthy lady you have performed what to me due is, for the which cause I account that received of your hands that I have of you desired. And therefore when it shall please you you may return unto your husband, and thank him, I pray you, on my behalf. For this is so great a pleasure done unto me and excuse me of the folly I have heretofor committed towards him, assuring him that hereafter I shall never put the like in practice.”
The lady, giving great thanks to Tarolfo for that his so great courtesy, merrily departed thence and returned to her husband, to whom she recited in order all that had been happened.
But Theban now coming to Tarolfo demanded how the case stood. Tarolfo declared unto him the whole discourse. To whom Theban then said: “And I, shall I then lose that which you have promised me?”
Tarolfo answered: “No, but when it pleases you take you half of all the castles and treasures I have in sort heretofor promised you. For I acknowledge that you have fully served my turn.”
To whom Theban answered: “It may never please the gods since the knight was so liberal to you of his wife, and you again was not a villain to him and that his offer, that I become less than courteous. For above all things in the world that content me in that I have served your turn, and therefore I will that all that I ought to receive in payment of my travail remain all yours, in such sort as it has ever been heretofor.”
Neither would he take of what was Tarolfo’s anything at all.
It is now doubted, in which of these was the greatest liberality, either in the knight that had given liberty to his wife to go to Tarolfo, either in Tarolfo who sent the lady (whom he had always desired and for whose sake he had done so much to come to that pass, whereunto he was come, whenas she came unto him) back unto her husband free, or in Theban, who having abandoned his country, being now old for to gain the promised rewards, and being come thither, toiled himself to bring that to an end which he had promised, whereby he justly deserved the same, did now remit the whole to Tarolfo, and remained poor as he was at the first.
“Very excellent is both the tale and the demand,” said the queen. “Of truth each one was very liberal, considering the first of his honour, the second of his lascivious desire and the third that of his rewarded riches, was very courteous. Now if we will know which of them used the greatest liberality or courtesy, it is meet we consider which of these three deeds is most acceptable. The which being well weighed we shall manifestly know the most liberal, because who most gives is to be held most liberal.
“Of the which three the one is dear, that is Honour, the which Paulus Aemilius vanquishing Perseus, King of Macedonia, rather desired than to gain treasures. The second is to be fled, that is, the wanton delights of Venus, according to the sentence of Sophocles and of Xenocrates, saying that lust is to be fled as a furious government. The third is not to be desired, that is, riches, for so much as the most times they are noisome to a virtuous life; and to such a one as can virtuously live with moderate poverty as lived Marcus Curtius, Attilius Regulus and Valerius Publicola, as by their works is manifest.
“If then of these three only honour is to be held dear, and the others not, he used the greatest liberality that gave his wife to another, although he did less than wisely therein. He was also the chiefest in liberality wherein the others followed him. Therefor, according to our judgment, he that gave his wife, in whom consisted his honour, was above the rest the most liberal.”
“I,” said Menedon, “agree that inasmuch as you have thus said it be as you say. But yet each one of the others seems to me to be more liberal, and you shall hear now. It is very true that the first granted his wife but he used therein not so great a liberality as you speak of because if he would have denied her he might not justly have done it, by reason of the oath she made, the which was convenient for her to keep. And therefor that he may not deny does but well in making himself liberal thereof. And it was but a trifle he gave, and therefor (as I have said) each one of the others was more courteous.
“And for that (as it is already said) Tarolfo had now a long time desired this lady and loved her far above all others. He, for to attain her, had of long time abode great troubles, offering himself to satisfy her request, to seek for things almost impossible to be had, the which now obtained he deserved (through her promised faith) to obtain her also, whom (as we say) being obtained there is no doubt but that the honour of the husband the release of that she had promised (the which he released) was in his hands. Then was he, to conclude, liberal both of the honour of the husband of the oath of his lady and of his own long desire.
“It is a great matter to have endured long thirst and to come to a pleasant fountain and not to drink, but to suffer others to drink.
“The third was also very liberal considering that poverty is one of the most loathesome things of the world to bear, for so much as it is the chaser-away both of mirth and of rest, a stealer of honour, a frequenter of virtue and the inducer of crabbed care, so that everyone naturally endeavour themselves with a fiery desire to flee the same, the which desire is so kindled in many to the end to live splendidly in rest, as they give themselves no less to dishonest gain than to disordinate expenses, peradventure not knowing or not otherwise being able to feed that their desire which is cause many times either of death or of exile.
“How much then ought to riches to please and to be acceptable unto them that in due sort do both gain and possess them? And who will doubt that Theban was not most poor, if he behold how he, abandoning his night’s rest, went gathering of herbs and digging up of roots in doubtful places, for the better sustenance of his poor life? And that this poverty did occupy his virtue may be also believed in hearing how Tarolfo deemed to be by him deceived when he beheld him apparelled in vile vesture and seeing him desirous to shake off that misery to become rich, knowing he came as far as from Thessaly to Spain, hazarding himself to perilous chances, through doubtful journeys and uncertain air, to the end to perform the promise he had made, and to receive the like from another.
“Also it may be evidently seen that without doubt who gives himself to such and so many mysteries to the end to flee poverty knows the same to be full of all grief and troubles. And how much the more he has shaken off the greatest poverty and is entered a rich life so much the more is the same life acceptable unto him.
“Then who that is become of poor, rich, if therewith his life delights him, how great and what manner of liberality does he use if he gives the same away and consents to return to that state the which he has with so many troubles fled? Assuredly he does a thing exceeding great and liberal. And this seems far greater than the rest, considering also the age of the giver that was now old, forasmuch as avarice was wont to be continually of greater force in old men than of young. Whereupon I gather that each one of the two following have used the greater liberality than had the first, so much commended by you; and the third far more than either of the others.”
“In how much your reason might be well by anyone defended, so well is the same defended by you,” said the queen, “but we mind to show unto you briefly how our judgment rather than yours ought to take place.
“You will say that he showed no liberality at all, granting the use of his wife to another, because of reason it was convenient to the oath made by the lady that he should do so. The which ought to be indeed if the oath might hold. But the wife, forsomuch as she is a member of her husband, or rather one body with him, could not justly make such an oath without the will of her husband. And yet if she did make such an oath it was nothing, because the first oath lawfully made could not
with reason be denied by any following, chiefly not by those that are not duly made for a necessary cause.
“And the manner is in matrimonial unitings the man to swear to be content with the woman and the woman with the man, and never to change the one the other for another. Now then the woman cannot swear and if she do swear (as we have said) she swears for a thing unlawful, and so contrary to the former oath it ought not to prevail, and not prevailing otherwise then for his pleasure he ought not to commit his wife to Tarolfo. And if he do commit her to him then is he liberal of his honour, and not Tarolfo as you hold opinion. Neither could he be liberal of his oath in releasing it forasmuch as the oath was nothing.
“Then only remain Tarolfo liberal of his wanton desire, the which thing of proper duty is convenient for every man to do, because we all through reason are bound to banish vice, and to follow virtue. And who that does that, whereunto he is of reason bound, is (as you have said) nothing at all liberal but that which is done more than duty requires may well and justly be termed liberality.
“But because you peradventure in silence argue in your mind what honour may that be of a chaste woman to her husband which ought to be so dear, we will prolong somewhat our talk, in showing you to the end that you may the more clearly see that. Tarolfo and Theban, of whom we intend next to speak, used no liberality in respect of the knight.
“You shall know that chastity, together with the other virtues, yield no other reward to the possessors thereof than honour, the which honour among virtuous men makes the least virtuous the most excellent. This honour, if men with humility seek to support it, it makes them friends to God and so by consequence to live and after death to possess the goods eternal. The which if the woman conserves for her husband he may live merrily and certain of his offspring, and frequent in open sight among the people content to see her for such her virtues honoured among the most high and chiefest dames. And in his mind is manifest token that she is good, fears God and loves him, which is no small pleasure, seeing she is given him for an everlasting companion, indivisible saving by death. He, through this obtained favour, is seen continually to increase both in spiritual and worldly wealth.