Collected Works of Giovanni Boccaccio

by Giovanni Boccaccio

  Of Pamphile, the doughter to Platre.

  The xlij Chapitre.

  I FYNDE THAT Pamphile was a Grekyshe woman, but of what countrye ther, tyme hathe put it oute of remembraunce. But hyr fathers name is knowne, for it is sayde that oone Plâtre was hyr father. Whiche Pamphile, all thoughe she may not, because of hyr so meane progeny towres, be to hyghely exaltede, yet, for that she addyde to the comune wealthe goode, it is not reason that she be defraudyde of hyr laude and prayse. Ther is noo goode thynge newe founde by any creature, but that it is an argument of a greate wytt of the persone that fyndeth it, and for the qualyte of the thynge to be commendyde for it. The olde auctours wyll, to whome of reasone we shulde gyue sum credite, that this Pamphile fyrste founde the sylke worme and fyrst gathrede theym of frome trees, and after taught howe to purge theym, and consequently to put theym to the dystafe to spynne and then to weeue theym. And so, tyl hyr tyme the way vnknown, she was the fyrst inuentour of it. Wherby reasone dothe well tell what a wytt she had that coulde fynde suche a prafytable crafte.

  Of Rehea Ilia, a virgyne of Vesta.

  The xliij Chapitre.

  REHEA ILIA DESCENDYD of an honorable and speciall famouse bloode and was sumtyme of an exellente beautie emonge the Italiens, for she was of the bloode of the Siluyens, reygnynge successyuely oone after another, frome the descent of the valyaunte Troyan Eneas. Now Numytor beynge Kynge of the Albonoys, and Rehea a verey yonge, tender virgyne, Amylyus that was the brother to Numytor, couetouse for to reigne, settynge a syde the lawe, that is, that the elder ought to be the heyre, put hys brother frome hys kyngedome. But, remembryng sumwhat hemself that it shulde be abhomynable to shede hys brothers bloode, he wolde not put hym to deathe, but suffrede hym to lyue pryuely emongst the poore paysans of the country. But yonge Lausus, that was Numytor sonne, to th’entente he wolde remoue suche an ennemye, he causede hym to be putt to deathe, and hys suster Rehea, as sayde is, verey yonge, he sparede hyr, but to the entent that he wolde vtterly ordeyn that she shulde neuer haue chylde, he put hyr emonge the virgynes of Vesta and compellyde hyr to vowe perpetual! virgynyte. Whiche sayde Rehea comen to perfyte age, by what meanes or by whome it is not knowne, but hyr swollne bely declarede that she was wyth chylde, and soo, broughte abedde, she had at oone byrthe Romulus and Remus, the fyrst founders of the cytie of Rome, for whiche offense, all thoughe she were descendyd of the bloode royall, yet by the olde ordynauncys and by the Kynges commaundemente, she was buryede quycke. But thoughe hyr body were ouerwhelmyde wyth earthe, yet hyr chyldren haue causede hyr to haue fame perpetuall, whiche the tyraunte, hyr vncle, dyd what he coulde to haue defacyte it. I cannot but laughe, callynge vnto mynde those that we calle cloysterars or nunnes, how often tymes pryuyly they clooke their veneriall pastymes and how thyes couetous men, to the entente they wolde not do the coste to marye theyr doughters, as it were by a pretens of deuotione compell the poore maydens by force to entre the cloyster, or, more planely, to shett theym into perdycyone, saynge that they haue dedycate theyr chyldren to Gode, not doubtynge but therby they and theyres shall haue the better happe and by theyre prayers after theyr deathe go to the place of quyete. O, greate mokery and fonde, folyshe doynge! Ar ye so ignoraunte that ye knownot a womans lyuynge in idlenes muste neades serue Venus ande in maner to enuy vnhoneste women, because they may not do as they do, and to laude more theyr dwellynge places then theyre oune propre sellys? And in beholdynge the maryages of the seculare yonge men, theyr feastes, theyr tryhumphes, thynke youe not but they lamente that they may not be maryede, also in cursynge theyr freandes that clothyde theym with those blacke cowlles and roobes, and seeke all ways possible how they may breake oute of that obscure cloyster, or, if that cannot be, study how to brynge in yonge men dayly with all, because theyr freandes wolde nott suffre theym to haue husbondes? Yes, surely. Beholde, thies be the prayers of theym, whiche they weene, that so inclose theym, to cum to heuen therby. O, ye vnwytty parentes, that make theym to do that whiche yourselffes cannot do, that often geuythe youe cause to lamente theyr vnlaufull doynge, in commyttynge oppression, in hauynge chyldren not laufully procreate, and, in conclusion, compellyd to fynde basterdes, that myght, if ye had maryede theym, haue founde ryght heyres! See wherto that your couetouse extendith and beholde, vnwyse as ye be, that not by constraynte, but when they be of laufull yeres and haue reasone and be well broughte vpp in vertue, that then ye shulde dedicate theym to God, and not afore. And of that sorte I do thynke ther is now but verey fewe; and it is muche more necessary to haue feware then so many to breke and violate the holy vowe they take vppon theym.

  Of Gaya Cirylla, the wyfe to Kynge Tarquinus Priscus.

  The xliiijti Chapitre.

  ALBEIT I DO not well knowe nor fynde of whome Gaia Cirylla descendyd, yet I do thynke that either she was a Romane or a Tuscane woman borne, and the ryght deare belouyde wyffe of Tarquinus Priscus. Thys noble woman, all thoughe she were a kynges wyfe, norishede in pastymes and pleasures, yet she wolde not lyue in idlenes, but, geuynge hyrselfe to spynnynge of woole, whiche then emonge the Italyens was thoughte to be honorable, she was so exellent in it that vnto thys present day she hathe by the same renoume and fame. Nor thys lackyde not in hyr dayes, for, beynge aswell reputyde honorable as profitable to the Romaynes, or euer they hade brought in the delyces of Asia, it was a lawe emonge theym that when any newe maryde woman shulde entre the house of hyr husbonde, that she shulde be demaundyd what was hyr name, and the bryde shulde aunswere and say that hyr name was Gaya Cirylla, the whiche was taken as a goode sygne or token that the wyfe shuld be suche a oone as Gaya was. Whiche custome, thoughe now a days men thynke it but a tryfyll, yet emonge the aunsyente it was an euydente iudgement of the wytte and goodenes of this honorable woman.

  Of Sapho, a mayden of Lesbia, and a poete.

  The xlvti Chapitre.

  SAPHO WAS A mayden of Lesbia and of Mitelena, and ther is noo more knowne wherof she came. But, and we noote well hyr study and goode lemyng, we shall well iudge that she descendyd of ryghte honourable parenttes. A vyle and, as it were, a rusticall mynde scante shulde haue desyrede suche scyences. But all thoughe it is not knowne in what tyme she was, yet aswell hyr yonge age as also hyre competente shappe of body and hyr study in poese, whereby she ascendyde the harde pathe of Pamaso with dilygente labour, the Musys not agayne sayng therto, at the last was acceptyd to be crownede with the lawrell, so that in makynge of balettes, in touchynge the harpe strynge and in other musicall dites she had noo pere, whiche is vnto ryght studiouse men difficill and harde to attayne to. What shulde I more say? She came to suche perfectione in thies thynges afore rehersyde that in hyr memory was rasyde certeyn ymages lyke vnto hyr, of coper and brasse, and hyr name sett emongste the moste renomyde poetes, whiche surely is more laude to hyre then the diademe to sum kynges, or the bysshopps myters, or the conquerors lawrell braunches. But as in lyke wyse as in those happy thynges she is to be praysede, so is she to be blamyde for the fonde loue she was taken in. For, were it either by the personage or the gesture of a certeyn yonge man, whiche lytle or nothynge regardyde hyr, she was so occupyede with that intollerable pestylens, seynge that neither with hyr lamentable verses nor with hyr teares she coulde gett hys loue, that it was wonder. This not withstandynge, beynge oppressyde with thys rage, she fouwde a new maner of metre, whiche is called of hyr name the metre of Sapho vnto thys day. But what ar the Musys to be accusede for thys — all thoughe Antheon coulde with hys harpe moue the greate stoones of Ogyges, yet the yonge mans harte, though Sapho songe neuer so swete, wolde not be mouede to loue hyr agayne?

  Of Lucres, the wyfe to Collatyne.

  The xlvjti Chapitre.

  LVERES, THE VEREY ledare and teacher of the Romaynes chastyte, and the moste holy example of the auncyente wyffes, she was the doughter of Lucyus Spuryus, a man hyghly extemyde in honoure emonge the Romaynes, and geuyne to wife to Tarquynus Collatynus. Harde to tell, whether in fayre beautie of body or in swete speche emonge all other matrones she oughte more to be praysed or commendyde. Now
it was so that Tarquynus, the Kynge of Romaynes, surnamede the prowde Tarquyne, hade layde seege vnto a towne callede Ardea, not verey farr frome Rome. Ande it chauncyde that, lyinge at the seage, the Kynge hauynge with hym at supper dyuers of the noble yonge men of hys courte, emonge the other Collatyne was oone, and as they had well eaten and dronken, well warmyde with wyne, that they fell in commynynge of their wyfes; and as eche oone of theym sett furthe hys oune the best he coulde, they fell in pacte that they shulde leepe on theyr horses and so preuyly goo to Rome, to se what theyr wyfes dyd in theyr absence, and which of theym was moste honestly occupyede. Now the yonge men comen to Rome, and fyndynge theyr wyfes makynge goode cheere, and sportynge and reuelynge, emonge the other, the goode Lucres was founde in hyr house, poorely and sadly appayrelde, spywnynge on the rocke. Wherfore, by the iudgemente of all the reste, she was extemyd to be the moste worthy to be praysede. Now Collatyne, hyr husbond, callynge all the yonge men vnto hys house, emonge the other, Sextus Collatynus, the Kynges son was oone, whiche caste on Lucres a dyshoneste loue and with an vngracyouse mynde determynede, either by fayre meanes or by force, to fulfyll with hyr hys pleasure. Nor it was not many days after but the madnes more and more mouede hym therto, but that, preuely stealynge frome hys fathers campe, in the nyghte he came to Collatyns house, and ther the blody prynce was honestly receyuyde of Lucres. Tarquyne, that ment all otherwyse then the chaste lady dyd, when he perceyuyde that all the housholde were at quyete, he entrede the chambre of Lucres with hys sworde nakyde in hys hande, shewynge to hyr what he was and threttnynge to sley hyr, yf eyther she made any noyse, or if she agaynesayde to fullfyll hys pleasure. And, all thoughe that he perceyuyde that Lucres resystyde hym and lytle fearede to dye, he aduysede hym, as he was wrestlynge with hyr, of a greate whyle, and he sayde to hyr: ‘If thow thus withstande me, I shall sley a churle and lay hym in thy bedde and reporte that for the loue I hade to Collatyw, fyndynge the enbrasyde in hys armes, that I slewe youe be the.’ The poore Lucres, vppon thyes wordes quakynge all in dreede, pawsede and, fearynge that so greate an infamye myght cum therof, if so she shulde be slayne, agaynste hyr wyll offrede to hym hyr chaste body. And thus, when the fowlle, vicyouse prynce had satisfyede hys desyre, thynkynge that he had escappyde as vyctour, he wentt hys way, leuyng the sayde Lucres a bedde. The day comen, all bewepte with teares, Lucres called to hyr hyr father and hyr husbonde, and Brutus, verey nyghe a kynne to hyr husbonde, with the reste of hyr kynsfolkes, declarynge to theym with a sorowfull and pale, bewepte face what the nyght before Sextus had doone to hyr. And albeit that they dyd what they coulde to conforte hyr, seynge hyr lamentable sorowe, yet she, that was determynede by deathe to shew hyr innocency, drew owte a sharp knyfe which she had hyd vndre hyr gowne, saynge: ‘If I do cleere myselfe of myne offense, yet the infamye shall neuer be wypyde away, and therfore, ther shall neuer noone vnchaste women lyue to take example by Lucres’, and so saynge, smote the knyfe into hyr innocente stomake, and fallynge downe vppon hyr blody, wounded breste, afore the face of hyr father and hyr husbonde and hyr freandes exspyrede. Hyr swete beautie, the more gratiouse it was, the more infortunate was it to hyr. But hyr chastite can neuer be to muche commendyde and praysede. And all though the fowlle acte of Sextus was after well reuengyde, yet this was not all, but for thys acte of Lucres, Rome, that was in boundage before, by hyr obteynede for euer fredome and lyberty.

  The Life of Dante

  Translated by James Robinson Smith

  CONTENTS

  I. PROEM

  II. DANTE’S BIRTH AND STUDIES

  III. DANTE’S LOVE FOR BEATRICE, AND HIS MARRIAGE

  IV. FAMILY CARES, HONORS, AND EXILE OF DANTE

  V. DANTE’S FLIGHT FROM FLORENCE AND HIS WANDERINGS

  VI. HIS DEATH AND FUNERAL HONORS

  VII. REBUKE OF THE FLORENTINES

  VIII. APPEARANCE, HABITS, AND CHARACTERISTICS OF DANTE

  IX. DIGRESSION CONCERNING POETRY

  X. ON THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN POETRY AND THEOLOGY

  XI. OF THE LAUREL BESTOWED ON POETS

  XII. QUALITIES AND DEFECTS OF DANTE

  XIII. OF THE DIFFERENT WORKS WRITTEN BY DANTE

  XIV. ON CERTAIN INCIDENTS RELATING TO THE DIVINA COMMEDIA

  XV. WHY THE COMMEDIA WAS WRITTEN IN THE VULGAR TONGUE

  XVI. OF THE BOOK DE MONARCHIA AND OTHER WORKS

  XVII. EXPLANATION OF THE DREAM OF DANTE’S MOTHER AND CONCLUSION

  Profile portrait of Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) in tempera by Sandro Botticelli, 1495

  The Life Of Dante (1313–1375)

  I. PROEM

  Solon, whose bosom was reputed a human temple of divine wisdom, and whose sacred laws are manifest proof to modern men of ancient justice, used frequently to say, as some relate, that all republics, like men, walk and stand on two feet. With sound judgment he declared the right foot to be the punishment of every crime, and the left the remuneration of every virtuous deed. He added that if either of these two things through carelessness or corruption be neglected, the republic that so acts must unquestionably walk lame; and that if she should be so unfortunate as to sin against both these canons, almost certainly she could not stand at all. Moved, then, by this commendable and obviously true precept, many ancient and illustrious peoples did honor to their men of worth, sometimes by deification, again by a marble statue, often by splendid obsequies, now by an arch of triumph, and now by a laurel crown, according to the merits of their lives. The punishments, on the other hand, that were meted to the culpable, I do not care to rehearse.

  By virtue of these honors and corrections, Assyria, Macedonia, Greece, and finally the Roman Republic expanded, reaching with their deeds the ends of the earth and with their fame touching the stars. But their modern successors, and especially my Florentines, have not only followed feebly in the footsteps of these noble exemplars, but have so far departed therefrom that ambition usurps all the rewards of virtue. Wherefore it is with the greatest affliction of mind that I, and whoever else views it with the eye of reason, see evil and perverse men raised to high places, to the chief offices and rewards, and good men banished, depreciated, and debased. What end the judgment of God reserves for such action, let them consider who hold the helm of this vessel, for we of the humbler throng are borne on the wave of fortune, and are not partakers in their guilt.

  Although what has been said above could be verified by countless cases of ingratitude, and by instances of shameless indulgence plain to all, it will suffice for me to instance one case alone, in order that I may the less expose our faults, and that I may come to my principal purpose. Nor is the case in point an ordinary or slight one, for I am going to record the banishment of that most illustrious man, Dante Alighieri, an ancient citizen and born of no mean parents, who merited as much through his virtue, learning, and good services as is adequately shown and will be shown by the deeds he wrought. If such deeds had been done in a just republic, we believe they would have earned for him the highest rewards.

  O iniquitous design! O shameless deed! O wretched example, clear proof of ruin to come! Instead of these rewards there was meted to him an unjust and bitter condemnation, perpetual banishment with alienation of his paternal goods, and, could it have been effected, the profanation of his glorious renown by false charges. The recent traces of his flight, his bones buried in an alien land, and his children scattered in the houses of others, still in part bear witness to these things. If all the other iniquities of Florence could be hidden from the all-seeing eyes of God, should not this one suffice to provoke his wrath upon her? Yea, in truth. Of him who, on the other hand, may be exalted, I deem it fitting to be silent.

  Indeed, the close observer sees that the modern world has not only departed from the pathway of the former world, whereon I touched above, but that it has turned its feet in quite the opposite direction. Wherefore it seems manifest that if we and others who live contrary to the above-cited maxim of Solon remain on our feet without falling, the reason must be that the nature of things has changed,
as we often notice, through long operation, or that God unexpectedly and miraculously sustains us through the merits of some action of our past; or else, perchance, his patience awaits our repentance. If this in due time does not follow, let none doubt that his wrath, which with slow pace moves to vengeance, reserves for us treatment so much the more grievous as fully to compensate for his delay.