The Decameron, Volume II

by Giovanni Boccaccio

on the spot; and indeed, but that hedoubted how he should afterwards fare himself, he had given way to thevehemence of his anger, and so done. Nor, though he so far masteredhimself, could he forbear recourse to the statute, thereby to compassthat which he might not otherwise lawfully compass, to wit, the death ofhis lady. Wherefore, having all the evidence needful to prove her guilt,he took no further counsel; but, as soon as 'twas day, he charged thelady and had her summoned. Like most ladies that are veritably enamoured,the lady was of a high courage; and, though not a few of her friends andkinsfolk sought to dissuade her, she resolved to appear to the summons,having liefer die bravely confessing the truth than basely flee and fordefiance of the law live in exile, and shew herself unworthy of such alover as had had her in his arms that night. And so, attended by manyladies and gentlemen, who all exhorted her to deny the charge, she camebefore the Podesta, and with a composed air and unfaltering voice askedwhereof he would interrogate her. The Podesta, surveying her, and takingnote of her extraordinary beauty, and exquisite manners, and the highcourage that her words evinced, was touched with compassion for her,fearing she might make some admission, by reason whereof, to save hishonour, he must needs do her to death. But still, as he could not refrainfrom examining her of that which was laid to her charge, hesaid:--"Madam, here, as you see, is your husband, Rinaldo, who prefers acharge against you, alleging that he has taken you in adultery, and so hedemands that, pursuant to a statute which is in force here, I punish youwith death: but this I may not do, except you confess; wherefore be verycareful what you answer, and tell me if what your husband alleges againstyou be true." The lady, no wise dismayed, and in a tone not a littlejocund, thus made answer:--"True it is, Sir, that Rinaldo is my husband,and that last night he found me in the arms of Lazzarino, in whose armsfor the whole-hearted love that I bear him I have ofttimes lain; norshall I ever deny it; but, as well I wot you know, the laws ought to becommon and enacted with the common consent of all that they affect; whichconditions are wanting to this law, inasmuch as it binds only us poorwomen, in whom to be liberal is much less reprehensible than it were inmen; and furthermore the consent of no woman was--I say not had, but--somuch as asked before 'twas made; for which reasons it justly deserves tobe called a bad law. However, if in scathe of my body and your own soul,you are minded to put it in force, 'tis your affair; but, I pray you, gonot on to try this matter in any wise, until you have granted me thistrifling grace, to wit, to ask my husband if I ever gainsaid him, but didnot rather accord him, when and so often as he craved it, completeenjoyment of myself." Whereto Rinaldo, without awaiting the Podesta'squestion, forthwith answered, that assuredly the lady had ever grantedhim all that he had asked of her for his gratification. "Then," promptlycontinued the lady, "if he has ever had of me as much as sufficed for hissolace, what was I or am I to do with the surplus? Am I to cast it to thedogs? Is it not much better to bestow it on a gentleman that loves memore dearly than himself, than to suffer it to come to nought or worse?"Which jocund question being heard by well-nigh all the folk of Prato, whohad flocked thither all agog to see a dame so fair and of such quality onher trial for such an offence, they laughed loud and long, and then allwith one accord, and as with one voice, exclaimed that the lady was inthe right and said well; nor left they the court until in concert withthe Podesta they had so altered the harsh statute as that thenceforthonly such women as should wrong their husbands for money should be withinits purview.

  Wherefore Rinaldo left the court, discomfited of his foolish enterprise;and the lady blithe and free, as if rendered back to life from theburning, went home triumphant.

  NOVEL VIII.

  --Fresco admonishes his niece not to look at herself in the glass, if 'tis,as she says, grievous to her to see nasty folk.--

  'Twas not at first without some flutterings of shame, evinced by themodest blush mantling on their cheeks, that the ladies heard Filostrato'sstory; but afterwards, exchanging glances, they could scarce forbear tolaugh, and hearkened tittering. However, when he had done, the queenturning to Emilia bade her follow suit. Whereupon Emilia, fetching a deepbreath as if she were roused from sleep, thus began:--Loving ladies,brooding thought has kept my spirit for so long time remote from herethat perchance I may make a shift to satisfy our queen with a muchshorter story than would have been forthcoming but for my absence ofmind, wherein I purpose to tell you how a young woman's folly wascorrected by her uncle with a pleasant jest, had she but had the sense toapprehend it. My story, then, is of one, Fresco da Celatico by name, thathad a niece, Ciesca, as she was playfully called, who, being fair of faceand person, albeit she had none of those angelical charms that weofttimes see, had so superlative a conceit of herself, that she hadcontracted a habit of disparaging both men and women and all that shesaw, entirely regardless of her own defects, though for odiousness,tiresomeness, and petulance she had not her match among women, insomuchthat there was nought that could be done to her mind: besides which, suchwas her pride that had she been of the blood royal of France, 'twouldhave been inordinate. And when she walked abroad, so fastidious was herhumour, she was ever averting her head, as if there was never a soul shesaw or met but reeked with a foul smell. Now one day--not to speak ofother odious and tiresome ways that she had--it so befell that being comehome, where Fresco was, she sat herself down beside him with a mostlanguishing air, and did nought but fume and chafe. Whereupon:--"Ciesca,"quoth he, "what means this, that, though 'tis a feast-day, yet thou artcome back so soon?" She, all but dissolved with her vapourish humours,made answer:--"Why, the truth is, that I am come back early becausenever, I believe, were there such odious and tiresome men and women inthis city as there are to-day. I cannot pass a soul in the street that Iloathe not like ill-luck; and I believe there is not a woman in the worldthat is so distressed by the sight of odious people as I am; and so I amcome home thus soon to avoid the sight of them." Whereupon Fresco, to,whom his niece's bad manners were distasteful in theextreme:--"Daughter," quoth he, "if thou loathe odious folk as much asthou sayest, thou wert best, so thou wouldst live happy, never to look atthyself in the glass." But she, empty as a reed, albeit in her ownconceit a match for Solomon in wisdom, was as far as any sheep fromapprehending the true sense of her uncle's jest; but answered that on thecontrary she was minded to look at herself in the glass like other women.And so she remained, and yet remains, hidebound in her folly.

  NOVEL IX.

  --Guido Cavalcanti by a quip meetly rebukes certain Florentine gentlemenwho had taken him at a disadvantage.--

  The queen, perceiving that Emilia had finished her story, and that nonebut she, and he who had the privilege of speaking last, now remained totell, began on this wise:--Albeit, debonair my ladies, you haveforestalled me to-day of more than two of the stories, of which I hadthought to tell one, yet one is still left me to recount, which carriesat the close of it a quip of such a sort, that perhaps we have as yetheard nought so pregnant.

  You are to know, then, that in former times there obtained in our citycustoms excellent and commendable not a few, whereof today not one isleft to us, thanks to the greed which, growing with the wealth of ourfolk, has banished them all from among us. One of which customs was thatin divers quarters of Florence the gentlemen that there resided wouldassemble together in companies of a limited number, taking care toinclude therein only such as might conveniently bear the expenses, andto-day one, another to-morrow, each in his turn for a day, wouldentertain the rest of the company; and so they would not seldom do honourto gentlemen from distant parts when they visited the city, and also totheir fellow-citizens; and in like manner they would meet together atleast once a year all in the same trim, and on the most notable dayswould ride together through the city, and now and again they would tilttogether, more especially on the greater feasts, or when the city wasrejoiced by tidings of victory or some other glad event. Among whichcompanies was one of which Messer Betto Brunelleschi was the leadingspirit, into which Messer Betto and his comrades had striven hard tobring Guido, son of Cavalcan
te de' Cavalcanti, and not without reason,inasmuch as, besides being one of the best logicians in the world, and anexcellent natural philosopher (qualities of which the company made nogreat account), he was without a peer for gallantry and courtesy andexcellence of discourse and aptitude for all matters which he might sethis mind to, and that belonged to a gentleman; and therewithal he wasvery rich, and, when he deemed any worthy of honour, knew how to bestowit to the uttermost. But, as Messer Betto had never been able to gain himover, he and his comrades supposed that 'twas because Guido, beingaddicted to speculation, was thereby estranged from men. And, for that hewas somewhat inclined to the opinion of the Epicureans, the vulgaraverred that these speculations of his had no other scope than to provethat God did not exist. Now one day it so befell that, Guido being come,as