Collected Works of Giovanni Boccaccio

by Giovanni Boccaccio

  “And so on the contrary he whose wife has default of such virtues can never pass one hour with true consolation. Nothing is acceptable unto him and continually the one desires the death of the other. He perceives himself through this disordered voice to be carried in the mouths of the veriest misers, neither seems it unto him that such a fault should not be believed of whomsoever it is heard. And if she were largely endowed with all other virtues yet this vice seems to have such a force as to bring her in contempt and to utter ruin.

  “Then is this honour that makes the woman both chaste and good to her husband a most great gift and so is to be held most dearly. Blessed may he be called to whom through grace is granted such a gift, although we believe they are but few towards whom is born envy for so great a benefit.

  “But to return unto our purpose it to be seen how much the knight did give. It is not fled our memory whenas you said that Theban was of the rest most liberal, who being with trouble enriched had not doubted to return into the misery of poor estate in giving away that which he had gotten. It appears that you are evil acquainted with poverty, who if she come unto us merry surmounts all riches.

  “Theban now peradventure through the attained wealth felt himself replete of sundry sour cares. He did now imagine that it seemed Tarolfo to have done very evil and therefor would practice by murdering him to recover again his castles. He abode in fear to be peradventure betrayed of his tenants. He was entered into care touching the government of his lands. He now knew all the prepared guiles to be done unto his co-partner. He saw himself greatly envied for his riches and doubted lest these should secretly spoil him thereof. He was stuffed with so many such and sundry thoughts and cares as all quietness was fled from him. Through the which occasion calling to mind his former life and that without so many cares he passed the same merrily, he said to himself: I desire to grow rich to the end to attain great rest, but I see it is the increaser of troubles and cogitations, so it is the flier of quietness. And therefor desirous to be in his former estate he rendered them all to him by whom they were given.

  “Poverty is the refused riches, a goodness unknown, a fire of provocation, the which was of Diogenes fully understood. As much suffices poverty as nature requires. He lives safe from every deceit that patiently approaches therewith, neither is he disabled to attain to great honours that (as we have said) virtuously lives therewith. And therefor as Theban rejected this allurement he was not liberal but wise. So gracious he was to Tarolfo in that it pleased him to give the same rather to him than another, whereas he might have bestowed the same upon many others.

  “Then to conclude, the knight was more liberal that granted his honour than any of the others. And think this one thing, that the honour he gave was not to be again recovered, the which happens not in many other things, as of battles, prowess and others like, for if they are at one time lost they are recovered at another, and the same is possible. Therefor this may suffice for answer unto your demand.”

  CHAPTER 6. THE FIFTH QUESTION, PROPOSED BY CLONICO

  AFTER THE QUEEN became silent and Menedon satisfied, a worthy young gentleman called Clonico, that sat next to Menedon, thus began to say:

  Most mighty queen, this gentlewoman’s tale has been so excellent and therewithal so long, as I in what I may shall briefly shew unto you this my concept, to the end the rest may the better at their more leisure say theirs. Then forasmuch as I, though very young, know the life of the subjects of our lord Love to be replete with many cares and sundry pining provocations, yet with small delight I have long time as I was able fled the like, rather eschewing than commending them which follow him. And although I was sundry times tempted, yet with a valiant mind (leaving the pitched snares) I always resisted; but because I being not strong enough, could no way resist that force whereunto Phoebus was unable to gainstand Cupid, having taken heart to bring me into the number of his thralls, was taken before I knew how.

  For, one day being allured abroad through the fresh renewed time, walking all merry, and for my delight gathering of shell-fish upon the salt sea banks, it happened as I turned my eyes towards the glittering waves I suddenly saw a little bark coming towards me, as wherein with one only mariner, were four young gentlewomen, so fair as it was a marvelous thing to behold the beauty they seemed to have.

  They now being approached somewhat near unto me and I not having yet turned my eye from them, saw in the midst of them an exceeding great light, wherein as my estimation gave me, methought I saw the figure of an angel, very young and so fair as I never beheld thing more fairer. Whom as I thus eyed methought he said unto me with a voice far different from ours:

  “O young fool, persecuter of our power (and being therewith arrived) I am come hither with four young damsels. Let your eye make choice of her for your mistress that best likes you.”

  I when I heard this voice abode all appalled, and devised both with eye and heart to avoid that which heretofor I had many times fled. But all was bootless for the strength of my legs failed me and beside he had bow and wings to overtake me quickly. Whereupon I in gazing among them espied one so fair, so benign of cheer and so piteous of semblance as I imagined to make choice of her, as of a singular mistress, saying to myself: this damsel presents herself to humble to my eyes as assuredly she will never become enemy to my desires, as many others have been to them, whom I have in beholding full of troubles always scorned, but she shall rather be a chaser-away of my annoys.

  And having thus thought I forthwith answered: “The gracious beauty of that young damsel that (O my lord) sits on your right hand, makes me desire to be both to you and to her a most faithful servant. I am therefor ready to obey your will; do with me as shall best like you.”

  I had not ended my tale but that I felt my left side wounded with a shining shaft, shot from the bow which he bare, as methought the same was of gold. And assuredly I saw him as he turned towards her to strike her with another, of lead. And thus I being in this sort taken abode in the snares I had of long time fled.

  This young damsel has and does so much content my eye as all other pleasure is very scarce in comparison of this; which the espying of long time shewed herself content. But after that she knew me to be so taken with this delight as not to love her was a thing impossible, incontinent she discovered her guile towards me, with an undeserved disdain, shewing herself in appearance a most cruel enemy, always turning her eye the contrary way as she happened to espy me, and with words on my part undeserved always dispraising me, by occasion whereof I have in sundry sorts endeavoured myself both with prayers and humility to appease her, But being unable I oftentimes beweep and lament this my hard fortune, neither can I anyways withdraw me from loving her, but rather how much the more I find her cruel so much the more methink the flame of her pleasure does set my sorrowful heart on fire.

  As I through these occasions one day being all solitary in a garden, bewailed my fortune with infinite sighs accompanied with many tears, there came upon me a singular friend of mine, to whom part of my griefs were discovered, who with pitiful words began to comfort me the best he could. But I, giving thereunto no ear at all, answered him that my misery exceeded all others. Whereunto he made me this answer: “A man is so much the more miserable,” said he “as he either makes or reputes himself a miser; but be assured I have greater cause to lament than have you.”

  I then all angry turned toward him with a disdainful look, saying: “And how? Who can have greater cause than I? Do I not for good receive evil recompense? Is not my faithful love rewarded with hatred? So that any may be as sorrowful as I, but more he cannot be.”

  “Truly,” said my friend, “I have greater cause of grief than have you, and hear now. It is not unknown unto you but that I have of long time and yet do love a gentlewoman, as you know. Neither was there ever anything that I thought might pleasure her which I gave not myself with all my wit and power to being to effect. And truly when she understood the sum of that I desired, she made me a gracious gift, the which as I had
received and receiving it at what time it pleased me, methought none by a great way to have a life comparable to mine in gladness.

  “Only one thing pricked me, that I could not make her believe how perfectly I loved her. Further than this, she perceiving me to love her (as I said) passed lightly for me. But the gods that will grant no wordly good turn without some bitterness, to the end that the heavenly may be the better known and by consequence the more desired, it happened one day as I abode with her all alone in a secret place, seeing without being again seen by them that passed by, espied a proper young man and of pleasant countenance to come along by us, whom she beheld (as I perceived) with a fired eye, and being past, she fetched a pitiful sigh. The which I espying, said: ‘Alas, do you so soon repent as that you now sigh for the love of another?’

  “She, whose face was through this occasion painted a new red, swearing by the power of the high gods, began with many excuses to endeavour herself to make me believe the contrary of that which I had received through the sigh. But all was to no purpose because she kindled my heart with an anger so exceeding fierce as she made me then almost ready to chide with her, but yet I withheld me therefrom.

  “And certainly it will never out of my mind but that she loves him or some other better than me; and all those persuasions, the which at other times heretofor she used for my help, that was, that she loved me better than she did any other, I now esteem them all in contrary, imagining that she has fainedly said and done all that she has heretofor wrought. Whereby I endure intolerable grief, neither does any comfort at all prevail therein, but because shame often-times does bridle the will I have rather to sorrow me than glad me, I do not continue my bitter grief, so as I make any appearance thereof. But briefly, I am never without cares and cogitations, the which bring me far greater annoy than I willingly would. Learn then to bear the less griefs since you see the greatest with a valiant mind borne of me.”

  To whom I answered: That as it seemed to me, his grief, though it were great was no ways to be compared to mine. He answered me the contrary, and thus we abode in a long contention, and in the end parted without any definition. Wherefor I pray you that you will say your judgment hereof.

  “Young gentleman,” said the queen, “great is that pain of yours and great wrong does the damsel commit in not loving you. But yet all times your grief may by hope be eased, the which happens not to your companion, because that since he is once entered in suspect nothing is able to draw it away. Therefor continually while love lasts he sorrows without comfort. So that in our judgment greater seems the grief of the jealous than that of the unloved lover.”

  Then said Clonico: “O noble queen, since you say so, it plainly appears that you have always been loved again of him whom you have loved. By occasion whereof you hardly know what my pain is. How may it appear that jealousy brings greater grief than is that I feel? For so much as the jealous possess that he desires, and may in holding the same take more delight thereof in one hour than in a long time after to feel any pain through want thereof. And nevertheless he may (through experience) abandon such jealousy if it happen that this judgment be found false. But I being kindled with a fiery desire, how much the more I see myself far off from attaining the same so much the more I burn and consume myself assaulted of a thousand instigations. Neither is any experience able to help me therein because through the often reproving her and finding her every hour the more sharp, I live desperate. Wherefor your answer seems contrary to the truth, because I doubt not but that it is much better to hold with suspicion than to desire with tears.”

  “That amorous flame that does shine in our eyes and that every hour does adorn our sight with the greater beauty, does never consent,” replied the queen, “that we love in vain, as you affirm. But for all that it is not unknown to us how great and what manner of pain that is both of the one and of the other and therefor as our answer has been confirmable to the truth, one thing we will shew to you. It is manifest that those things which most do hinder the quiet of the mind are cares, the which are some of them come to a merry end, so some we see to end with great sorrow, whereof how much more the mind is replete so much the more has it of grief, and chiefest whenas the same are noisome. And that the jealous have more store thereof than have you is manifest because you heed nothing else but only to get the good-will of the damsel whom you love. The which not being able to attain is to you grief most grievous.

  “But yet it is certain that it may easily come to pass to attain the same at one instant, not thinking thereof (for so much as womens hearts are inconstant) besides peradventure she loves you notwithstanding (to prove if you also love her) she shows the contrary, and so perhaps will show until such time as she shall be well assured of your love. So that with these thoughts hope can mitigate unfeigned grief.

  “But the jealous has his mind full fraught of infinite cares, against the which neither hope nor other delight can bring comfort or ease the pain. For he stands intentive to give a law to the wandering eyes, the which his possessor cannot give. He will and does endeavour himself to give a law to the feet, to the hands and to every other act of his mistress. He will be a circumspect knower both of her thoughts and of her mirth interpreting everything in evil part towards himself, believing that each one desires and loves her whom he loves. Likewise he imagines every word that she speaks to be twain and full of deceit. And if he ever committed any detraction towards her it is death to him to remember it, imagining to be by the like means deceived.

  “He will with conjectures shut up the ways of the air and of the earth. And briefly the heavens, the earth, the birds, beasts and every other creature that he thinks does hinder his devices. And to remove him from this hope has no place, because in this doing if he find a woman faithful he thinks that she espies that which he does, and is therefor heedful therein. If he finds that he seeks for, and that he would not find, who is more dolorous than he? If peradventure you think that the embracing her in his arms be so great a delight to him as should mitigate these pangs, your judgment is then false, because such brings him in choler in thinking that others as well as he have embraced her in the like sort. And if the woman peradventure do lovingly entertain him, he deems that she does it to the end to remove him from such his imaginations, and not for the true love she bears him. If he finds her maliciously disposed he thinks that she then loves another and is not content with him.

  “And thus we can shew you an infinite number of other suspicions and cares that are harbored in a jealous person. What shall we then say of his life but that it is far more grievous than that of any other living creature? He lives believing and not believing, and still alluring the woman. And most times it happens that these jealous persons do end their lives through the selfsame malice, whereof they live fearful, and not without cause, for that with their reprehensions they show the way unto their own harm.

  “Considering then the aforesaid reasons more cause has your friend that is jealous to sorrow than have you, because you may hope to get and he lives in fear to lose that which he scarcely holds for his own. And therefor if he have more cause of grief than you, and yet comforts himself the best he can, much more ought you to comfort yourself and to set aside bewailings that are meet for faint hearts; and hope that the assured love which you bear toward your lady shall not lose his due desert. For though she shew herself sharp toward you at this present, it cannot be but that she loves you, because that love never pardoned any loved to love; and you shall know that with the fierce vehement winds are sooner broken the stubborn oaks than the consenting reeds.”

  CHAPTER 7. THE SIXTH QUESTION, PROPOSED BY A YOUNG GENTLEWOMAN

  NEXT TO CLONICO sat a fair gentlewoman apparelled in a black vesture, under an honest veil, who as she perceived the queen to have made an end of her words thus began to say:

  Most gracious queen, I remember that being a little girl, how one day I with my brother, who was a proper young man and of ripe years, abode all alone in a garden without other company. And in
tarrying there together, it happened that two young damsels of noble blood, abounding in riches, and born in this our city, who loved this my brother very well, and perceiving him to be in the said garden, came thither and began afar off to behold him that was altogether ignorant of their purpose.

  And after a while, seeing him all alone saving for me of whom they reckoned naught because I was but a little one, thus the one began to say to the other:

  “We love this young gentleman above all others, neither do know whether he loves us or no. Yet is it meet that he loves us both. So that now it is lawful for us to satisfy our desire and to know whether he love either of us or which of us he best loves, to the end that she to whom he shall best like may after remain his without being hindered of the other. Wherefor since he is all alone and that we have a meet time offered, let us run into him and each one embrace and kiss him. That done he shall take which of us best pleases him.”

  These two young gentlewomen being thus determined upon this resolution, began to run their race towards my said brother. Whereat he marvelled greatly, espying them, and seeing in what sort they came. But the one of them or ever she came at us by a good way stayed all bashful, and almost weeping ripe. The other ran through and came to him, whom she embraced and kissed, and so sat her down by him, recommending herself unto him.