The Decameron, Volume II

by Giovanni Boccaccio

ratestthou our scholar, my soul? whether is the greater his wit, or the love Ibear him, thinkst thou? Will the cold, that, of my ordaining, he nowsuffers, banish from thy breast the suspicion which my light words theother day implanted there?" "Ay, indeed, heart of my body!" replied thelover, "well wot I now that even as thou art to me, my weal, myconsolation, my bliss, so am I to thee." "So:" quoth the lady, "then Imust have full a thousand kisses from thee, to prove that thou saystsooth." The lover's answer was to strain her to his heart, and give hernot merely a thousand but a hundred thousand kisses. In such conversethey dallied a while longer, and then:--"Get we up, now," quoth the lady,"that we may go see if 'tis quite spent, that fire, with which, as hewrote to me daily, this new lover of mine used to burn." So up they gotand hied them to the lattice which they had used before, and peering outinto the courtyard, saw the scholar dancing a hornpipe to the music thathis own teeth made, a chattering for extremity of cold; nor had they everseen it footed so nimbly and at such a pace. Whereupon:--"How sayst thou,sweet my hope?" quoth the lady. "Know I not how to make men dance withoutthe aid of either trumpet or cornemuse?" "Indeed thou dost my heart'sdelight," replied the lover. Quoth then the lady:--"I have a mind that wego down to the door. Thou wilt keep quiet, and I will speak to him, andwe shall hear what he says, which, peradventure, we shall find no lessdiverting than the sight of him."

  So they stole softly out of the chamber and down to the door, whichleaving fast closed, the lady set her lips to a little hole that wasthere, and with a low voice called the scholar, who, hearing her callhim, praised God, making too sure that he was to be admitted, and beingcome to the door, said:--"Here am I, Madam; open for God's sake; let mein, for I die of cold." "Oh! ay," replied the lady, "I know thou hast achill, and of course, there being a little snow about, 'tis mighty cold;but well I wot the nights are colder far at Paris. I cannot let thee inas yet, because my accursed brother, that came to sup here this evening,is still with me; but he will soon take himself off, and then I will letthee in without a moment's delay. I have but now with no small difficultygiven him the slip, to come and give thee heart that the waiting irk theenot." "Nay but, Madam," replied the scholar, "for the love of God, Ientreat you, let me in, that I may have a roof over my head, because forsome time past there has been never so thick a fall of snow, and 'tis yetsnowing; and then I will wait as long as you please." "Alas! sweet mylove," quoth the lady, "that I may not, for this door makes such a din,when one opens it, that my brother would be sure to hear, were I to letthee in; but I will go tell him to get him gone, and so come back andadmit thee." "Go at once, then," returned the scholar, "and prithee, seethat a good fire be kindled, that, when I get in, I may warm myself, forI am now so chilled through and through that I have scarce any feelingleft." "That can scarce be," rejoined the lady, "if it be true, what thouhast so protested in thy letters, that thou art all afire for love of me:'tis plain to me now that thou didst but mock me. I now take my leave ofthee: wait and be of good cheer."

  So the lady and her lover, who, to his immense delight, had heard allthat passed, betook them to bed; however, little sleep had they thatnight, but spent the best part of it in disporting themselves and makingmerry over the unfortunate scholar, who, his teeth now chattering to sucha tune that he seemed to have been metamorphosed into a stork, perceivedthat he had been befooled, and after making divers fruitless attempts toopen the door and seeking means of egress to no better purpose, paced toand fro like a lion, cursing the villainous weather, the long night, hissimplicity, and the perversity of the lady, against whom (the vehemenceof his wrath suddenly converting the love he had so long borne her tobitter and remorseless enmity) he now plotted within himself divers andgrand schemes of revenge, on which he was far more bent than ever he hadbeen on forgathering with her.

  Slowly the night wore away, and with the first streaks of dawn the maid,by her mistress's direction, came down, opened the door of the courtyard,and putting on a compassionate air, greeted Rinieri with:--"Foul fall himthat came here yestereve; he has afflicted us with his presence all nightlong, and has kept thee a freezing out here: but harkye, take it notamiss; that which might not be to-night shall be another time: well wot Ithat nought could have befallen that my lady could so ill brook." For allhis wrath, the scholar, witting, like the wise man he was, that menacesserve but to put the menaced on his guard, kept pent within his breastthat which unbridled resentment would have uttered, and said quietly, andwithout betraying the least trace of anger:--"In truth 'twas the worstnight I ever spent, but I understood quite well that the lady was in nowise to blame, for that she herself, being moved to pity of me, came downhere to make her excuses, and to comfort me; and, as thou sayst, what hasnot been to-night will be another time: wherefore commend me to her, andso, adieu!" Then, well-nigh paralysed for cold, he got him, as best hemight, home, where, weary and fit to die for drowsiness, he threw himselfon his bed, and fell into a deep sleep, from which he awoke to find thathe had all but lost the use of his arms and legs. He therefore sent forsome physicians, and having told them what a chill he had gotten, causedthem have a care to his health. But, though they treated him with activeand most drastic remedies, it cost them some time and no little troubleto restore to the cramped muscles their wonted pliancy, and, indeed, butfor his youth and the milder weather that was at hand, 'twould have gonevery hard with him.

  However, recover he did his health and lustihood, and nursing his enmity,feigned to be vastly more enamoured of his widow than ever before. And soit was that after a while Fortune furnished him with an opportunity ofsatisfying his resentment, for the gallant of whom the widow wasenamoured, utterly regardless of the love she bore him, grew enamoured ofanother lady, and was minded no more to pleasure the widow in aughteither by word or by deed; wherefore she now pined in tears andbitterness of spirit. However, her maid, who commiserated her not alittle, and knew not how to dispel the dumps that the loss of her loverhad caused her, espying the scholar pass along the street, as he had beenwont, conceived the silly idea that the lady's lover might be induced toreturn to his old love by some practice of a necromantic order, whereinshe doubted not that the scholar must be a thorough adept; which idea sheimparted to her mistress. The lady, being none too well furnished withsense, never thinking that, if the scholar had been an adept innecromancy, he would have made use of it in his own behoof, gave heed towhat her maid said, and forthwith bade her learn of the scholar whetherhe would place his skill at her service, and assure him that, if he sodid, she, in guerdon thereof, would do his pleasure. The maid did hermistress's errand well and faithfully. The scholar no sooner heard themessage, than he said to himself:--Praised be Thy name, O God, that thetime is now come, when with Thy help I may be avenged upon this wickedwoman of the wrong she did me in requital of the great love I bore her.Then, turning to the maid, he said:--"Tell my lady to set her mind atease touching this matter; for that, were her lover in India, I wouldforthwith bring him hither to crave her pardon of that wherein he hasoffended her. As to the course she should take in the matter, I tarry buther pleasure to make it known to her, when and where she may think fit:tell her so, and bid her from me to be of good cheer." The maid carriedhis answer to her mistress, and arranged that they should meet in thechurch of Santa Lucia of Prato. Thither accordingly they came, the ladyand the scholar, and conversed apart, and the lady, quite oblivious ofthe ill-usage by which she had well-nigh done him to death, opened allher mind to him, and besought him, if he had any regard to her welfare,to aid her to the attainment of her desire. "Madam," replied the scholar,"true it is that among other lore that I acquired at Paris was this ofnecromancy, whereof, indeed, I know all that may be known; but, as 'tisin the last degree displeasing to God, I had sworn never to practise iteither for my own or for any other's behoof. 'Tis also true that the loveI bear you is such that I know not how to refuse you aught that you wouldhave me do for you; and so, were this single essay enough to consign meto hell, I would adventure it to pleasure you. But I mind me that 'tis amatter scarce
so easy of performance as, perchance, you suppose, mostespecially when a woman would fain recover the love of a man, or a manthat of a woman, for then it must be done by the postulant in properperson, and at night, and in lonely places, and unattended, so that itneeds a stout heart; nor know I whether you are disposed to comply withthese conditions." The lady, too enamoured to be discreet, madeanswer:--"So shrewdly does Love goad me, that there is nought I would notdo to bring him back to me who wrongfully has deserted me; but tell me,prithee, wherein it is that I have need of this stout heart." "Madam,"returned the despiteful scholar,