Collected Works of Giovanni Boccaccio
Page 354
And he, after the admiration conceived of her boldness, was somewhat crassed, prayed her as ever she loved him to tell him truly what moved them thus to do. She concealed nothing from him, the which he hearing, and examining well in his mind that which the one and other had done, knew not how to persuade himself which of them best loved him, neither yet which of them he might best love.
And so happening at that time to depart from them he after prayed counsel of many of his friends touching this matter. Neither has anyone ever satisfied his desire touching that demand. For the which cause (I pray you) from whom I assuredly believe to have a true definition of this my question, that you will tell me which of these two damsels ought soonest to be loved of the young man.
To this gentlewoman the queen thus made answer:
“Truly of the two young women, she as it seems loved your brother best and soonest ought to be loved of him again that (doubting) bashfully abode without embracing him. And why I thus think, this is the reason: Love (as we know) makes those always fearful in whom he does abide. And where he is of greatest force there is likewise the greatest fear. And this happens because the intent or consent of the person loved cannot be fully known. And if it could be known many things should be done that in fearing to offend are left undone, because the one knows that in displeasing is taken away every occasion to be loved; and with this fear and love shamefulness is always accompanied, and not without reason.
“Returning then to our question. We say that it was an act of one unfeignedly enamoured, that of the gentlewoman, whereby she showed herself both fearful and bashful. And that of the other was rather the part of one both lewd and licentious. And therefor he being of her best beloved, ought the rather (according to our judgment) to love her best.”
Then answered the gentlewoman: “Most courtous queen, it is true that where love abides with moderation there fear and bashfulness does altogether frequent; but where he does abound in such quantity as he takes away the sight from the most wise (as is already said) I say that fear has there no place, but that the motions of him that feels the same are according to him that urges them forwards. And therefor that gentlewoman, seeing her desire before her eyes, was so hotly kindled as all shamefulness abandoned she ran straight to him by whom she was so vehemently pricked forwards as till then unable to abide. The other, not so much inflamed, observed the amorous terms, being bashful and remaining behind, as you say. So that then she that ran loved most, and most ought to be loved again.”
“Discreet gentlewoman,” said the queen, “true it is that excessive love takes away the sight and every other due perseverance in things that are aught of this nature, but not in these that belong unto him, the which as he increases so grow they. Then how great a quantity of love is found in anyone, so much the more fear (as we said at the first) is there also found. And that this is true, the cruel heart of Bibylis does manifest the same unto us, who how much she loved was seen by the sequel thereof. For she seeing herself abandoned and refused, had not the audacity to discover herself with her proper words but writing, she disclosed her unfitting desire. Likewise Phaedra many times gave the attempt to go to Hippolytus, to whom she thought boldly to speak and to tell how much she loved him; but the words she had to utter no sooner came into her mouth but they stayed upon her tongue and there died.
“Oh how fearful is the person that loves! Who has been more mighty than Alcides, to whom satisfied not the victory of human things, but also he gave himself to bear up the heavens; and notwithstanding, was lastly so enamoured not of a woman but of a young wench, a slave, which he had gained, as fearing her commandments did like an humble subject or servant even the very basest things. Also Paris in what he durst not attempt, neither with eye nor tongue, in the presence of his love, with his finger writing first her name with wine that had been spilt wrote after: I love you.
“How far passing all these does Pasiphae bring us a due example of fear, the which without any reasonable intention, yea, and without understanding, durst not so much as express her desire to a beast; but with her proper hands gathering the soft grass endeavoured herself to make him benign unto her, oftentimes decking herself at the glass for to please him and to kindle him in the like desire that she was in, to the end he might attempt to seek that which she durst not demand.
“It is not meet for a woman enamoured, neither for any other, to be prompt and ready, forasmuch as the great shamefastedness only which ought to be in us does remain as the guarder of our honour. We have the voice among men (and the truth is so) to know better how to hide the amorous flame than they do, and nothing else engendereth this in us but the great fear which does rather occupy our forces than those of men. How many has there been of them (and peradventure we have known some) which many times have caused themselves to have been bidden, to the end thereby they might have achieved to the amorous effects, the which willingly would rather have bidden the bidder, before he them, if due bashfulness and fear had not detained them. And not only that but every time that No is escaped their mouth, they have had in their minds a thousand repentings, saying from their hearts a thousand times, Yea.
“Their remains then the like scellerate fire on the behalf of Semiramis and Cleopatra, the which loved not but sought to quiet the rage of their wanton wiles, and the same being quieted they after remembered not themselves the one or the other. Wise merchants unwillingly do adventure at one time all their treasures to the hazard of fortune, and yet notwithstanding they care not to grant her some small portion, the which if they happen to lose yet do they feel no grief of mind at all for the same.
“The young woman therefor that embraced your brother loved him but a little, and that little she committed to fortune, saying: This gentleman if I may hereby get him, it is well. But if he refuse me there shall be no more but let him take another. The other, that abode all bashful, forasmuch as she loved him above all others, she doubted to put so great love in adventure, imagining lest this peradventure should displease him and he so refuse her that her grief should be then such and so much that she should die thereof. Let therefor the second be loved before the first.”
CHAPTER 8. THE SEVENTH QUESTION, PROPOSED BY GALEON
A CLEAR SUN beam piercing through amongst the green leaves did strike upon the aforesaid fountain and did rebound the light thereof upon the fair face of the adorned queen, who was thereby apparelled with that color whereof the heavens make show whenas both the children of Latona (from us hidden) with their stars only give us light. And besides the splendour it brought to her face it did so lighten the place as among the fresh shade it yielded a marvelous lustre to the whole company. Further, what time the reflected rays did extend even to that place where the laurel crown on her head on the one side and the golden tresses on the other did determine it so intermingled there among with twinings not artificial as at the first sight one would have said that there had issued forth among the green leaves a clear flame of burning fire, which did spread in such sort as the auburn hairs were easily seen to the standers-about.
Galeon that was peradventure sooner or better awares of this marvelous sight than any of the rest, (being set in circle over against the queen, divided only with the water) did very intentively behold the same almost as though he cared for nothing else. So that he moved not his mouth to the question that was now come to his turn.
To whom the queen therefor (having now both kept silence a good space, as eke contented the witty gentlewoman) thus said: “The only desire peradventure of the thing which you behold stays you, tell what is the occasion that holds you thus appalled, as in following the order of the rest you speak not? It is only (as we believe) the gazing at our head as if you had never seen the same before. Tell us first, and after as the others have propounded, even so propound you.”
At this sudden voice Galeon lifted up his mind replete with sweet thoughts, somewhat coming to himself, at what time he is wont to do, that through a sudden fear does break his golden sleep, and thus said:
/> “Most noble and renowned queen, whose worthiness it should be impossible for me to declare, my mind was so wrapt in gracious thoughts (whenas I did so firmly look at your head) as in beholding the bright ray streaming into the fresh fountain and rebounding upon your face, methought there issued forth of the water a little sprite so gentle and gracious to see unto as he plucked my mind back to behold that which he did and perceiving peradventure my eyes altogether insufficient to behold so great a joy, he mounted by the clear ray into your eyes and there for a good space made marvelous mirth, adorning the same with a new clearness.
“And after mounting more high I saw how he ascended by this light (leaving his footsteps in your eyes) upon your crown, whereas he together with the ray kindled (as it seemed unto me) a new flame, such a one as was of yore seen by Tanaquil, to appear to Servius Tullius a little boy while he slept, and so went about your crown, leaping from sprig to sprig like a little amorous bird that singing does visit many leaves, moving your heart with sundry gestures, sometimes wrapping and hiding himself therein, being more merry every time he came forth thereof, and therewith (as it seemed unto me) so jocund in himself as nothing more, and that singing or with a sweet voice, he uttered these words:
“‘Of the third rolling sky, the benign babe divine
I am enamoured so, to nest in these two eyne,
That doubtless die I should, were I of mortal rout:
From twig to twig I twine, to feed this my delight,
These golden Tresses whirling in and out:
My self, inflaming my self, right
So as with flame I shew th’ effect, the potent might,
Of my darts divine, piercing where I go,
Each one wounding, that with sweet sight,
Doth gaze her in the eyes, whereas each hour low,
If such her pleasure be, I there descend adown,
For of my kingdoms the queen is of great renown.’
“And herewith he said much more, going about as at what time you called me, and you had no sooner spoken but that he suddenly retired into your eyes, the which sparkling like unto the morning star, gave a new light that made all the place to shine. You have now heard with what joy new thoughts have stayed me for a time.”
Philocopo and the rest marvelled not a little hereat and turned their eyes towards their queen saw that which to hear tell would have seemed to them impossible. And she that was attired with humility listened to the words that were truly reported of her and abode with a stable countenance, making no answer at all. And therefor Galeon speaking in this wise, followed with his question.
“Most gracious queen, I desire to know whether a man ought to be enamoured for his delight or no? And to demand this many things move me, both seen, heard and held through the sundry opinions of many.”
The queen beheld Galeon a good while in the face and afterwards, after a certain sigh, thus made answer: “It is convenient we speak against that which with desire we seek to follow. And truly that which you in asking do propound in doubt, ought to be manifest to you. In answering you therefor, there shall be kept the begun order. And he whose subjects we are pardon us the words that we, as constrained through force of judgment shall (more sooner than willing) say against his divine majesty, lest thereby his indignation do fall upon us. And you that likewise as well as we are his subject, with a bold mind give ear unto them, neither do you for all that change your purpose at all.
“And to the end that so much the better, and with a more apparent intendment our words may be received, we will somewhat digress from our matter, turning again thereunto as briefly as possible we may, and thus we say:
“Love is of three sorts, through which three all other things are loved, some through the virtue of one and some through the power of another, according as is the thing loved and likewise the lover. The first of the which three is called honest love. This is the good, upright and loyal love the which of all persons ought to be received. This the high and first creator holds linked to his creatures, and them he ties therewith unto him. Through this the heavens, the world, realms, provinces and cities do remain in their state. Through this we do merit to be eternal possessors of the celestial kingdom, and without this is lost all that we have in power of well-doing.
“The second is called love for delight. And this is he, whose subjects we are. This is our god; him we do worship, him we do pray unto, in him do we trust, that he may be our contentment and that he may fully bring our desire to pass. Of this is put the question, whereunto we shall duly answer.
“The third is love for utility. Of this love the world is replenished more than of any of the other things. This is coupled with fortune; while she tarries he likewise abides but if they part he is then the waster of many goods. And to speak unreasonably, he ought to be deemed rather hate than love.
“Now as touching the propounded question, we need to speak neither of the first nor of the last. We will speak of the second, that is, of love for delight, to whom truly no person that desires to lead a virtuous life ought to submit himself, because he is the depriver of honours, the bringer of troubles, the revealer of vices, the copious giver of vain cares and the worthy occupier of the liberty of others; a thing above all things to be held most dear. What is he then regarding his own wealth (being wise) that will not flee such a government? Let him that may live free, following those things that do every way increase his liberty, and let vicious governors govern vicious vassals.”
“I did not think,” said Galeon then, “to give occasion to these my words to the lessening of this our disport, nor to disquiet the regiment of our lord love, neither yet to trouble the minds of any others; but did rather imagine (you defining it according to the intent of me and many others) that you might thereby confirm those that are his subjects with a valiant mind, and invite those which are not, with a greedy appetite. But I see that your intent is all contrary unto mine, because you with your words do show to be three sorts of love, of the which three the first and the last I consent they be as you say. But the second, which answers to my demand, you say it is much to be fled, as I hold opinion, it is (as the increaser of virtue) to be followed of him that desires a glorious end, as I believe to make apparent unto you by this that follows.
“This love, of whom we reason (as it may be manifest to all the world, because we prove it) does work this property in human hearts: that after that it has disposed the mind to a thing which pleases, it spoils the same of all pride and of all fierceness, making them humble in each doing, as it is manifest unto us by Mars, whom we find that in loving Venus became of a fierce and sharp duke in battle a most humble lover. It makes the greedy and covetous liberal and courteous. Medea, the most careful hider of her art, after she felt his claims, liberally yielded herself, her honour and her arts to Jason. Who makes men more diligent to high attempts than he? And what he can do behold by Paris and Menelaus. Who furthers forward the angry fires more than does he? He shows us how oftentimes the anger of Achilles was quieted through the sweet prayer of Polyxena. He above all others makes men courageous and strong. Neither know I what greater example may be given us than that of Perseus, who for Andromache did make a marvelous proof of his virtuous force. He decks all them that are by him apparelled with excellent qualities, with ornate talk, with magnificence and with pleasantness.
“He I say bestows upon all his subjects fineness and gentleness. Oh how many are the good things which proceed from him? Who moved Virgil? Who Ovid? Who the other poets to leave of themselves eternal fame and those their holy verses, the which (if he had not been) should never have come to our ears, but he? What shall we say further of his virtues? But that he was able to give such a sweetness to Orpheus’ harp, as after that he had called to that sound all the woods, standers-about, and made the running streams to stay, and to come into his presence in mild peace the fierce lions together with the faint-hearted harts, and all other beasts. He made likewise the infernal furies quiet and gave rest and sweetness to the troubled sou
ls, and after all this the sound was of such Virtue as he attained to have again his lost wife.
“Then is he not the chaser away of honour as you say, neither the giver of unfitting troubles, nor the provoker of vices, nor the disposer of vain cares, nor the unworthy user of the liberty of others. So that everyone of whom he makes no account and is not as yet his servant ought with all their wit and diligence to endeavour and to occupy themselves in the attaining the favour of such a lord, and to become his subject, since through him he becomes virtuous. That which pleases the gods and men of greatest strength ought likewise to please us. Let such a lord therefor be loved, served and live always in our minds.”
“Greatly deceived you your opinion,” said the queen, “and it is no marvel, because as far as we understand you are so far enamoured as none the like, and without doubt the judgment of the enamoured is merely false, because as they have lost the sight of the eyes of their mind, so have they banished reason as their utter enemy. And for this cause it shall be convenient that we against our will speak of love, the which grieves us, since we be his subjects. But yet to pluck you from your error, we shall turn our silence to a true report, and will, therefor, that you know this: that this love is nothing else than unreasonable will sprung of a passion entered the heart through a wanton pleasure that is opened unto the eyes, nourished with idleness, by the memory and thoughts of foolish minds. And many times in how much it multiplies, so much it takes away the intent of him in whom it abides from things necessary, and disposes the same unto things unprofitable.
“But because that you through good example giving do endeavour yourself to show, that all goodness and all virtue do proceed from him, we shall proceed to the disproofs of your proofs. It is no part of humility unjustly to bring unto a man’s self that which belongs to another, but rather an arrogancy and an unfitting presumption. The which thing Mars (whom you make through love to become humble) assuredly used in taking away from Vulcan, Venus, his most lawful wife. And without doubt this humility that appears in the face of lovers does not proceed of a benign heart but takes root from guile and deceit, neither makes this love the courteous liberal but when as such abundance as you say to have been in Medea, does abound in the heart and does deprive the same of the sight of the mind, and most foolishly is become prodigal of things heretofore duly esteemed dear; and not giving the same with measure but unprofitably casting them away, believing to please, and displeases. Medea, nothing wise of her prodigality, in short time repented very much without utility and knew that if she had modestly used those her dear gifts she should not have come to so vile an end.