Collected Works of Giovanni Boccaccio

by Giovanni Boccaccio

  But evil things (alas) which are committed and past may be easier reprehended than amended. I was therefore taken (as I have said), and whether it was some infernal fury, or envious fortune, which did so emulate my chaste felicity, laying snares to entrap me, may this day with hope of infallible victory triumph and rejoice in my miserable fall. Being therefore possessed, nay rather oppressed with new kinds of passions, as one astonied and like a defenceless Woman I sat amongst the other Ladies and Gentlewomen. And troubled thus in mind, I did neglect the sacred and divine service, which as I did scarcely hear, so did I not understand it at all: and thought the sundry speeches and discourses of Gentlewomen, that sat round about me, but a kind of buzzing and murmuring in my troubled ears. And so this new and unexpected love did take sudden possession of my tender heart, so that either with mine eyes or with my thoughts I was ever contemplating on my beloved young Gentleman. And yet my simplicity was such, that I did not almost then know what end I might wish or desire of such a strange and fervent passion. How many times (alas) coveting to have seen him approach near unto me, did I blame his staying behind all the rest of the Gentlemen, thinking with myself that that was but a cold kind of affection in him, which he did perhaps craftily use, and for a policy, to make me more desirous to look on him, and in looking to love him more.

  And moreover, the company of lusty youths, that stood before him, did greatly hinder my sight, of whom, whilst that I busied mine eyes in looking sometimes amongst them, there were not a few that (thinking, that for their sakes I looked so much towards them) did vainly perhaps believe that I did it for love of them. But while my thoughts and senses were occupied in these fancies, the solemn service was finished: and the Ladies and the rest of my companions were risen up to depart, when I, recalling my wits together, which went wandering about the sweet imagination and figure of their only object, at the last I beheld my lovely young Gentleman again. And now myself risen up with the other Gentlewomen ready to be gone, and turning mine eyes towards him, I perceived that by his pitiful looks (which I had thought to have prevented by mine) that his departure, and mine did greatly grieve him. But notwithstanding, after certain secret sighs, and yet ignorant of what parentage, estate and condition he was, I went away.

  Alas (gentle Ladies) who would believe it possible that one’s heart in a moment and point of time should alter and change so much? Who would say that a man never seen before might be so extremely loved at the first sight? And who would think that the desire of seeing should be so fervently kindled in one’s breast, as the very sight itself, and being deprived of that, to feel the greatest pain in the world, for desire to see the same thing again? Who would imagine that all those things that have been so joyful and delightful to us before, in respect of a new thing come in place, should not yield any more pleasure at all? Not anyone truly, unless he had proved and felt them, as I do now. Alas that love is not only content to use such a strange, and too severe kind of cruelty towards me, but in subduing me to his might, to prescribe new Laws, clean variant from others. I have oftentimes heard that love in others at his first entrance is but light, but by nourished thoughts augmenting his force is made greater. But so it fared with me: for he entered into my heart with that same force, wherewith he continued ever afterwards, as one who at the very first assault had most entire and free possession of me. And like as the green wood, which is hardly at the first set on fire, and doth lie a long time before it receiveth flames, but after it is once kindled, with greater heat doth conserve the fire longer, even so it happened unto me, who with this kind of pleasing passion, never overcome of any before (though attempted of many) and at the last conquered of one, have burned and kept (as yet I do more sensibly) these new flames, that have taken more hold of me, than ever they did of any other, who before have assayed the like. But leaving aside many thoughts, which with divers accidents that morning turmoiled my troubled mind, and besides these, which now I have told, I say, that being incended with a new fury, with my captivated and bond soul I returned again thither, from whence (not long since) I had brought it free.

  Where afterwards, that I was now come into my Chamber all alone, kindled with variety of burning desires surcharged with new thoughts, and pricked with a thousand stinging cares, terminating every end of them in the imagined apprehension of my young Gentleman, I thought, that if I could not wean myself from this new love, at the least, in my secret and sorrowful breast, wisely to have nourished and governed the same, and warily to have brought it to some good effect. Which things, how difficult they are to perform, none can tell unless they prove them, undoubtedly believing, that they do no less harm than love itself. Wherefore, confirmed as it were in this opinion, I said thus to myself: “Alas thou art in love, poor soul, and yet thou dost not know with whom.” What kinds of cruel thoughts, and how many careful cogitations were engendered of this love, it should be too tedious for you dainty Ladies to hear, and too grievous for me to tell. But yet (though forcing myself thereunto) to obtain the more pity at your hands, and some comfort thereby, I mean to unfold some of them unto you. I say therefore, that careless of all other things, to spend the time in thinking of my beloved and amiable young Gentleman, was only most dear and pleasant unto me. And imagining with myself, that persevering in this, that which I did intend to conceal might perhaps have easily been presumed, I oftentimes found fault with myself for it. But what did it help? My own reprehensions gave place to my desires, and like words of light worth passed away with the air. I chiefly desired, many days together, to know what my beloved youth was, to the understanding of which thing, new thoughts made me an open way by means of which most warily and privily I knew it, and whereof I remained not a little contented. By goodly ornaments likewise, which (as one that little need them) were not before this time so much in request with me, began now to be greatly liked of me, thinking that being adorned with them, I might please the more. Wherefore I esteemed now more of gorgeous apparel, gold, pearls, and other precious stones, and gems, than ever I did before. And I, who until this time had frequented the holy Temples, Feasts, Sea banks, and pleasant. Gardens, without any further intent or desire than to keep other Gentlewomen and Ladies company, began (altered now in mind) for new purposes to resort more often to the foresaid places, thinking, that there I might with pleasure not only behold, but with delight and desire be seen again But the great affiance (truly) which I was wont to have in my beauty forsook me now quite, wherefore I never went out of my Chamber without the infallible counsel of my trusty Glass. And my cunning hands (I know not by what curious instructor newly taught) finding every day more brave and rare ornaments, conjoining artificial with natural beauty, did make me (like Venus star) shine amongst other Ladies. The great honours moreover, courtesies, and obeisance, which other Ladies and Gentlewomen of their mere good wills and duties did unto me, although indeed they were incident to my nobility, I now began to accept and expect as services duly and worthily belonging to my high estate, thinking that I should please my lover most of all, when by these means he did perceive, that I was of noble birth and lineage. And that common covetousness, which is naturally born and engrafted in all Women, did work in me (eschewing the same) no other effects, than to esteem all my riches, land and treasure, as if they had not been mine own: whereby I became not only liberal, but feeling also a certain seemly boldness to increase in me, made me devoid of all womanly and suspicious fear, accounting but one thing only dearer to me now than before. And besides all this, my eyes, which until this time had been but simple, and unexpert in amorous regards, changed their former fashions, and grew marvellous skilful in performing their parts. And I discovered moreover in me divers other mutations, all which, by one and one, I care not to set down, because, first, it would be too long a labour, and secondly, because I believe that you (fair Ladies), enamoured perhaps like myself, are not ignorant how great and many those are, which accompany lovers in like causes.

  The young Gentleman was most wary and wise, as many times by exp
erience I was sufficiently thereof ascertained. He came but seldom times, and that in most honest and seemly sort, where I was, and having (as it seemed) purposed the selfsame thing that I had done, which was to conceal altogether these amorous flames, did yet, with many privy and stealing looks, not a few times pitifully behold me. He did therefore make those kindled flames in me more fervent and lively, and revived those again (if any they were) that were spent and quite consumed in me. But the beginning of all this love was not so joyful and happy, but the sequel and end of it was more sorrowful and unfortunate, at what time I remained deprived of his sight, because these eyes being denied their wished joy did minister a grievous occasion to my poor heart of grief, whereupon my sighs both in quantity and quality were greatly augmented. And hot desire, occupying almost every least sense of mine, did make me live as one besides myself, as if I had not been there where I was, made many that saw me to wonder oftentimes at me, attributing afterwards infinite and feigned occasions (taught me only of love) to such strange and uncouth accidents. And besides all this, taking from me many times my sweet rest in the night-time, and appetite in the day, did drive me sometimes to certain sudden and furious kinds of actions, and transported my tongue into strange and fond speeches. Behold how my unaccustomed gorgeous apparel, my prodigal attire, my scalding and new sighs, my unwonted gesture, frantic fits, the loss of my rest, quietness and health, and many other things, which this new love brought with it, amongst many other Servants and familiars in my house, made a Nurse of mine especially to marvel much, who as she was burdened with many years, so in ripe wisdom and good experience she was not young at all. And who having sometimes known and tried the heat of Cupid’s flames, and making semblance to the contrary, did oftentimes reprehend me, and my suspected follies. But finding me on a day laid upon my bed, and oppressed with deep melancholy and sadness, and perceiving by my face that I was overcharged with burdens of heavy thoughts, and seeing no company with me but herself, began thus to say unto me:

  “O Daughter, dearer to me than mine own heart strings, what cares do molest thee thus of late? Now thou spendest not one hour (whom sometimes I was wont to see merry and free from all pensiveness) without infinite cares, and burning sighs.”

  Then after a great sigh, and often changing of my colour, turning me now this way, now that way, my tongue being scarce able to form and fashion one word aright, I answered her again:

  “O dear Nurse, no new thing doth annoy me, neither do I feel any more grief than I was wont to do, these natural courses only excepted, and influences, which, never keeping us in one stay and estate of life, make me at this present (more than they were wont) both painful and pensive.”

  “Thou verily dost deceive me, Daughter” (answered the old Nurse again), “nor dost conceive how great a matter it is, to make temperate and advised persons believe one thing in words, and to show the contrary by demonstration. Thou needest not to keep that hidden from me, which many days since I did know to be in thee.”

  Alas when I heard her say so, surprised with great marvel and grief, knowing myself to be touched to the quick, with an angry countenance I said to her: “Then if thou dost know, why dost thou ask? Wherefore I request no more at thy hands, but to conceal and keep that close which thou knowest.”

  “I will not, believe me,” (said she again) “disclose that which is neither lawful nor reasonable to acquaint others withal, earnestly beseeching the Gods, that before I manifest (during the well-nigh finished course of my poor life) anything which (much or little) may turn to thy shame, or that may in any one jot prejudicate thy honour, honesty and virtuous name, the earth may open and swallow me alive. It is a good while since, my Daughter, that I learned to keep secrecy in matters (perhaps) of as great importance as this. And therefore live secure of this, admonishing thee to take diligent heed, and to be very careful, lest others know that by thy indirect dealings, and unadvised practices, which without report either of thyself, or of any other but thy outward countenance only, and mere behaviour, I have perceived. But if this kind of mad folly, into which (I know thou art rashly fallen) were beseeming a Woman of thy estate, if thou wert as wise now, as of late thou wert, I would leave it to thine own consideration, being certain that my counsel herein should take no place, as a thing needless. But because this cruel Tyrant (to whom like a young and ignorant Woman, not taking any heed of him, and of his poisoned baits, thou hast simply subjected thyself) hath, together with thy sweet liberty, bereaved thee also of thy sound understanding, I think it not amiss to put thee friendly in remembrance, and humbly to entreat thee, that from thy impotent and chaste breast thou wouldst banish all wicked things, and naughty thoughts, and by oblivion consume these unhonest flames, and not to suffer thyself become a handmaid and bondslave to most filthy hope. And now it is time to resist with force and courage, because whosoever doth stoutly resist, and oppose himself in the beginning, he may easily drive out this villainous and envious love, and like a worthy and wise Conqueror may safely triumph over him. But whosoever with continued thoughts and flattering imaginations doth continue and maintain it, may hardly, and too late, cast off his yoke, into the which voluntarily he did put his neck.”

  “Alas,” (said I then) “how easy is it to talk of those things, and how difficult a matter to remedy them.”

  “Although” (said she again) “that they are very hard to be done, yet are they possible enough to be reformed, and ought to be performed. Thou seest, or (at the least if thou wilt) mayst see, that in following thine own fancies, thou hast (as it were) a certain kind of desire to ruinate the highness of thy birth, to obscure the great and shining fame of thy manifold virtues, to lose the flower of thy beauty, to blemish thy honour in this present world, and to discredit all those other good parts in thee besides, which ought of all Women to be kept holy and unstained, and especially of such as thou art, whose virtues (as in nobility thou art above the rest) should also shine above the rest. And besides all this, to hazard the loss of the gracious favour of thy noble Husband, whom thou hast so long (and yet dost) loved so well, and who entirely loveth thee again. Thou shouldest not truly have so much as a thought of idle love, neither do I think (if like a wise Woman thou dost but take sound counsel of thyself) that thou wilt, nor canst busy thy wits about it. But these old breasts of mine with many years worn out (of the which thou didst first suck out thy nourishing milk and living sustenance) even by these, most humbly I pray thee, that thou wouldst in these timorous occurrents succour thyself, and be careful both for thy health and honour, and in these thy perplexities not to reject my weak and willing comforts. And think moreover that an earnest will and desire to be made whole again is not the smallest part, and no little help to recover thy former health.”

  Then I began thus to reply: “O dear Nurse, well do I know that these things which thou tellest me are most true, but frantic fury compelleth me to follow that which is my bane, and my guilty mind, over-rash in her desires, attempts in vain to put thy counsel in practice, because that which reason willeth me to do is overcome by unruly will, which most mightily doth dominate in me. Love with his deity doth possess my heart, and there, with his mighty signory overruleth my subject mind. And how hard a matter it is for a feeble woman to resist his forces (ah, Nurse) thou knowest well enough.”

  And having so said, overcome by the force of my grievous passion, and fainting, I fell between her arms. But she, troubled in mind more than before, with an austere countenance, and sharper speeches, began to discipline me thus: “You wilful company of amorous and wanton young Gentlewomen, kindled with burning desires, and fiery lust, which spurring you forwards to impious idolatry, have fondly found, out Love to be a God, who more justly deserveth the title and name of frantic fury, and call him the Son of Venus, saying that he deriveth his omnipotent power from the third Heaven, as though you would excuse your follies with a needless kind of necessity. O deceived souls, and utterly devoid of all reason, and most ignorant of that which you say. Sent from the infernal furie
s, with a sudden and swift flight he visiteth all the world, bringing to him that doth entertain him, not deity but despair, not friendly felicity, but fiendly folly, alighting on those whom he doth know to abound in superfluity of worldly goods, and to enjoy them with a vain and prodigal mind, and on him whom he thinketh fittest and most forward to make him place. And this is here most manifest by thee. Why, do we not see holy Venus to dwell oftentimes in little cottages, both profitable and necessary for our procreation? Yes, truly. But this, who by frenzy is called Love, coveting ever dissolute things, lodgeth in no other place but where happy Fortune doth smile, and where her gifts abound. This dainty one, disdaining no less sufficient food to satisfy nature, than necessary clothing, doth frame all his persuasions to delicate fare, and sumptuous attire, and so intermingling his secret and sweet poison with them, doth deceive and destroy unwary and ignorant souls. This, more willingly and often seen in high and princely Palaces, is seldom or never seen in poor and Country cottages. Because it is a certain precise pestilence, which doth choose out only brave and stately lodgings, as most agreeable in the end to his wicked practices. We see in poor and simple people, effects of good and quiet consequence, but in the rich, wallowing in pleasure, and shining in their abundance of gold (insatiable as well in this as in all things else) that he is (more than is requisite) for the most part found: and that which he cannot do (who can do most) he doth desire, and especially endeavour to bring to pass. Among whom I perceive thee (most unhappy and unfortunate Mistress) to be one, who by too much wealth, ease and idle pleasure hast entered into these new and unbeseeming cares.” Whom, after I had a good while heard, I answered thus again: “Hold thy peace, thou old and foolish dotard, and prate not thus against my God. Thou speakest voluntarily against him, thyself being no less impotent for these effects, than justly cast of all men, blaspheming him now, whom in time of thy younger years thou diddest religiously adore. If other Ladies, more noble, wiser and more famous than myself, have heretofore thus entitled him, and cease not yet to call him by the name of a mighty God, how can I then alone give him any new or devised name? To be plain with thee, I am become his Subject, but from whence the occasion of this allegiance doth spring, I neither know nor can tell thee. And what can I do more? My feminine forces, conjoined oftentimes with his celestial power, are overcome, and constrained to retire back again. Wherefore there resteth no more for the end of my new and mortal pains but my near death, or else the enjoying of my wished love, which woes I pray thee to mitigate (if thou art so wise as I esteem thee) by thy sage counsel and speedy help, which will perhaps lessen them at the least, or else by thy bitter reprehensions surcease to exasperate and make them greater, blaming that in me which my soul (not able to do otherwise) with all the power and force it hath is wholly disposed to follow.” She departed therefore out of my Chamber somewhat offended (as she had indeed good cause) at this my peremptory answer, not giving me one word again, but murmuring (I know not what) with herself, leaving me all alone.