NOVEL VIII.

--

A husband grows jealous of his wife, and discovers that she has warning

of her lover's approach by a piece of pack-thread, which she ties to her

great toe a nights. While he is pursuing her lover, she puts another

woman in bed in her place. The husband, finding her there, beats her, and

cuts off her hair. He then goes and calls his wife's brothers, who,

holding his accusation to be false, give him a rating.

--

Rare indeed was deemed by common consent the subtlety shewn by Madonna

Beatrice in the beguilement of her husband, and all affirmed that the

terror of Anichino must have been prodigious, when, the lady still

keeping fast hold of him, he had heard her say that he had made suit of

love to her. However, Filomena being silent, the king turned to Neifile,

saying:--"'Tis now for you to tell." Whereupon Neifile, while a slight

smile died away upon her lips, thus began:--Fair ladies, to entertain you

with a goodly story, such as those which my predecessors have delighted

you withal, is indeed a heavy burden, but, God helping me, I trust fairly

well to acquit myself thereof.

You are to know, then, that there dwelt aforetime in our city a most

wealthy merchant, Arriguccio Berlinghieri by name, who foolishly, as we

wot by daily experience is the way of merchants, thinking to compass

gentility by matrimony, took to wife a young gentlewoman, by no means

suited to him, whose name was Monna Sismonda. Now Monna Sismonda, seeing

that her husband was much abroad, and gave her little of his company,

became enamoured of a young gallant, Ruberto by name, who had long

courted her: and she being grown pretty familiar with him, and using,

perchance, too little discretion, for she affected him extremely, it so

befell that Arriguccio, whether it was that he detected somewhat, or

howsoever, waxed of all men the most jealous, and gave up going abroad,

and changed his way of life altogether, and made it his sole care to

watch over his wife, insomuch that he never allowed himself a wink of

sleep until he had seen her to bed: which occasioned the lady the most

grievous dumps, because 'twas on no wise possible for her to be with her

Ruberto. So, casting about in many ways how she might contrive to meet

him, and being thereto not a little plied by Ruberto himself, she

bethought her at last of the following expedient: to wit, her room

fronting the street, and Arriguccio, as she had often observed, being

very hard put to it to get him to sleep, but thereafter sleeping very

soundly, she resolved to arrange with Ruberto that he should come to the

front door about midnight, whereupon she would get her down, and open the

door, and stay some time with him while her husband was in his deep

sleep. And that she might have tidings of his arrival, yet so as that

none else might wot aught thereof, she adopted the device of lowering a

pack-thread from the bedroom window on such wise that, while with one end

it should all but touch the ground, it should traverse the floor of the

room, until it reached the bed, and then be brought under the clothes, so

that, when she was abed, she might attach it to her great toe. Having so

done, she sent word to Ruberto, that when he came, he must be sure to

jerk the pack-thread, and, if her husband were asleep, she would loose

it, and go open to him; but, if he were awake, she would hold it taut and

draw it to herself, to let him know that he must not expect her. Ruberto

fell in with the idea, came there many times, and now forgathered with

her and again did not. But at last, they still using this cunning

practice, it so befell that one night, while the lady slept, Arriguccio,

letting his foot stray more than he was wont about the bed, came upon the

pack-thread, and laying his hand upon it, found that it was attached to

his lady's great toe, and said to himself:--This must be some trick: and

afterwards discovering that the thread passed out of the window, was

confirmed in his surmise. Wherefore, he softly severed it from the lady's

toe, and affixed it to his own; and waited, all attention, to learn the

result of his experiment. Nor had he long to wait before Ruberto came,

and Arriguccio felt him jerk the thread according to his wont: and as

Arriguccio had not known how to attach the thread securely, and Ruberto

jerked it with some force, it gave way, whereby he understood that he was

to wait, and did so. Arriguccio straightway arose, caught up his arms,

and hasted to the door to see who might be there, intent to do him a

mischief. Now Arriguccio, for all he was a merchant, was a man of spirit,

and of thews and sinews; and being come to the door, he opened it by no

means gingerly, as the lady was wont; whereby Ruberto, who was in

waiting, surmised the truth, to wit, that 'twas Arriguccio by whom the

door was opened. Wherefore he forthwith took to flight, followed by

Arriguccio. But at length, when he had run a long way, as Arriguccio gave

not up the pursuit, he being also armed, drew his sword, and faced about;

and so they fell to, Arriguccio attacking, and Ruberto defending himself.

Now when Arriguccio undid the bedroom door, the lady awoke, and finding

the pack-thread cut loose from her toe, saw at a glance that her trick

was discovered; and hearing Arriguccio running after Ruberto, she

forthwith got up, foreboding what the result was like to be, and called

her maid, who was entirely in her confidence: whom she so plied with her

obsecrations that at last she got her into bed in her room, beseeching

her not to say who she was, but to bear patiently all the blows that

Arriguccio might give her; and she would so reward her that she should

have no reason to complain. Then, extinguishing the light that was in the

room, forth she hied her, and having found a convenient hiding-place in

the house, awaited the turn of events. Now Arriguccio and Ruberto being

hotly engaged in the street, the neighbours, roused by the din of the

combat, got up and launched their curses upon them. Wherefore Arriguccio,

fearing lest he should be recognized, drew off before he had so much as

discovered who the young gallant was, or done him any scathe, and in a

fell and wrathful mood betook him home. Stumbling into the bedroom, he

cried out angrily:--"Where art thou, lewd woman? Thou hast put out the

light, that I may not be able to find thee; but thou hast miscalculated."

And going to the bedside, he laid hold of the maid, taking her to be his

wife, and fell a pummelling and kicking her with all the strength he had

in his hands and feet, insomuch that he pounded her face well-nigh to

pulp, rating her the while like the vilest woman that ever was; and last

of all he cut off her hair. The maid wept bitterly, as indeed she well

might; and though from time to time she ejaculated an "Alas! Mercy, for

God's sake!" or "Spare me, spare me;" yet her voice was so broken by her

sobs, and Arriguccio's hearing so dulled by his wrath, that he was not

able to discern that 'twas not his wife's voice but that of another

woman. So, having soundly thrashed her, and cut off her hair, as we

said:--"Wicked woman," quoth he, "I touch thee no more; but I go to find

thy brothers, and shall do them to wit of thy good works; and then they

may come here, and deal with thee as they may deem their honour demands,

and take thee hence, for be sure thou shalt no more abide in this house."

With this he was gone, locking the door of the room behind him, and

quitted the house alone.

Now no sooner did Monna Sismonda, who had heard all that passed, perceive

that her husband was gone, than she opened the door of the bedroom,

rekindled the light, and finding her maid all bruises and tears, did what

she could to comfort her, and carried her back to her own room, where,

causing her to be privily waited on and tended, she helped her so

liberally from Arriguccio's own store, that she confessed herself

content. The maid thus bestowed in her room, the lady presently hied her

back to her own, which she set all in neat and trim order, remaking the

bed, so that it might appear as if it had not been slept in, relighting

the lamp, and dressing and tiring herself, until she looked as if she had

not been abed that night; then, taking with her a lighted lamp and some

work, she sat her down at the head of the stairs, and began sewing, while

she waited to see how the affair would end.

Arriguccio meanwhile had hied him with all speed straight from the house

to that of his wife's brothers, where by dint of much knocking he made

himself heard, and was admitted. The lady's three brothers, and her

mother, being informed that 'twas Arriguccio, got up, and having set

lights a burning, came to him and asked him on what errand he was come

there at that hour, and alone. Whereupon Arriguccio, beginning with the

discovery of the pack-thread attached to his lady's great toe, gave them

the whole narrative of his discoveries and doings down to the very end;

and to clinch the whole matter, he put in their hands the locks which he

had cut, as he believed, from his wife's head, adding that 'twas now for

them to come for her and deal with her on such wise as they might deem

their honour required, seeing that he would nevermore have her in his

house. Firmly believing what he told them, the lady's brothers were very

wroth with her, and having provided themselves with lighted torches, set

out with Arriguccio, and hied them to his house with intent to scorn her,

while their mother followed, weeping and beseeching now one, now another,

not to credit these matters so hastily, until they had seen or heard

somewhat more thereof; for that the husband might have some other reason

to be wroth with her, and having ill-treated her, might have trumped up

this charge by way of exculpation, adding that, if true, 'twas passing

strange, for well she knew her daughter, whom she had brought up from her

tenderest years, and much more to the like effect.

However, being come to Arriguccio's house, they entered, and were

mounting the stairs, when Monna Sismonda, hearing them, called out:--"Who

is there?" Whereto one of the brothers responded:--"Lewd woman, thou

shalt soon have cause enough to know who it is." "Now Lord love us!"

quoth Monna Sismonda, "what would he be at?" Then, rising, she greeted

them with:--"Welcome, my brothers but what seek ye abroad at this hour,

all three of you?" They had seen her sitting and sewing with never a sign

of a blow on her face, whereas Arriguccio had averred that he had

pummelled her all over: wherefore their first impression was one of

wonder, and refraining the vehemence of their wrath, they asked her what

might be the truth of the matter which Arriguccio laid to her charge, and

threatened her with direful consequences, if she should conceal aught.

Whereto the lady:--"What you would have me tell you," quoth she, "or what

Arriguccio may have laid to my charge, that know not I." Arriguccio could

but gaze upon her, as one that had taken leave of his wits, calling to

mind how he had pummelled her about the face times without number, and

scratched it for her, and mishandled her in all manner of ways, and there

he now saw her with no trace of aught of it all upon her. However, to

make a long story short, the lady's brothers told her what Arriguccio had

told them touching the pack-thread and the beating and all the rest of

it. Whereupon the lady turned to him with:--"Alas, my husband, what is

this that I hear? Why givest thou me, to thy own great shame, the

reputation of a lewd woman, when such I am not, and thyself the

reputation of a wicked and cruel man, which thou art not? Wast thou ever

to-night, I say not in my company, but so much as in the house until now?

Or when didst thou beat me? For my part I mind me not of it." Arriguccio

began:--"How sayst thou, lewd woman? Did we not go to bed together? Did I

not come back, after chasing thy lover? Did I not give thee bruises not a

few, and cut thy hair for thee?" But the lady interrupted him,

saying:--"Nay, thou didst not lie here to-night. But leave we this, of

which my true words are my sole witness, and pass we to this of the

beating thou sayst thou gavest me, and how thou didst cut my hair. Never

a beating had I from thee, and I bid all that are here, and thee among

them, look at me, and say if I have any trace of a beating on my person;

nor should I advise thee to dare lay hand upon me; for, by the Holy Rood,

I would spoil thy beauty for thee. Nor didst thou cut my hair, for aught

that I saw or felt: however, thou didst it, perchance, on such wise that

I was not ware thereof: so let me see whether 'tis cut or no." Then,

unveiling herself, she shewed that her hair was uncut and entire.

Wherefore her brothers and mother now turned to Arriguccio with:--"What

means this, Arriguccio? This accords not with what thou gavest us to

understand thou hadst done; nor know we how thou wilt prove the residue."

Arriguccio was lost, as it were, in a dream, and yet he would fain have

spoken; but, seeing that what he had thought to prove was otherwise, he

essayed no reply. So the lady turning to her brothers:--"I see," quoth

she, "what he would have: he will not be satisfied unless I do what I

never would otherwise have done, to wit, give you to know what a pitiful

caitiff he is; as now I shall not fail to do. I make no manner of doubt

that, as he has said, even so it befell, and so he did. How, you shall

hear. This worthy man, to whom, worse luck! you gave me to wife, a

merchant, as he calls himself, and as such would fain have credit, and

who ought to be more temperate than a religious, and more continent than

a girl, lets scarce an evening pass but he goes a boozing in the taverns,

and consorting with this or the other woman of the town; and 'tis for me

to await his return until midnight or sometimes until matins, even as you

now find me. I doubt not that, being thoroughly well drunk, he got him to

bed with one of these wantons, and, awaking, found the pack-thread on her

foot, and afterwards did actually perform all these brave exploits of

which he speaks, and in the end came back to her, and beat her, and cut

her hair off, and being not yet quite recovered from his debauch,

believed, and, I doubt not, still believes, that 'twas I that he thus

treated; and if you will but scan his face closely, you will see that he

is still half drunk. But, whatever he may have said about me, I would

have you account it as nothing more than the disordered speech of a tipsy

man; and forgive him as I do." Whereupon the lady's mother raised no

small outcry, saying:--"By the Holy Rood, my daughter, this may not be! A

daughter, such as thou, to be mated with one so unworthy of thee! The

pestilent, insensate cur should be slain on the spot! A pretty state of

things, indeed! Why, he might have picked thee up from the gutter! Now

foul fall him! but thou shalt no more be vexed with the tedious drivel of

a petty dealer in ass's dung, some blackguard, belike, that came hither

from the country because he was dismissed the service of some petty

squire, clad in romagnole, with belfry-breeches, and a pen in his arse,

and for that he has a few pence, must needs have a gentleman's daughter

and a fine lady to wife, and set up a coat of arms, and say:--'I am of

the such and such,' and 'my ancestors did thus and thus.' Ah! had my sons

but followed my advice! Thy honour were safe in the house of the Counts

Guidi, where they might have bestowed thee, though thou hadst but a

morsel of bread to thy dowry: but they must needs give thee to this rare

treasure, who, though better daughter and more chaste there is none than

thou in Florence, has not blushed this very midnight and in our presence

to call thee a strumpet, as if we knew thee not. God's faith! so I were

hearkened to, he should shrewdly smart for it." Then, turning to her

sons, she said:--"My sons, I told you plainly enough that this ought not

to be. Now, have you heard how your worthy brother-in-law treats your

sister? Petty twopenny trader that he is: were it for me to act, as it is

for you, after what he has said of her and done to her, nought would

satisfy or appease me, till I had rid the earth of him. And were I a man,

who am but a woman, none, other but myself should meddle with the affair.

God's curse upon him, the woeful, shameless sot!" Whereupon the young

men, incensed by what they had seen and heard, turned to Arriguccio, and

after giving him the soundest rating that ever was bestowed upon caitiff,

concluded as follows:--"This once we pardon thee, witting thee to be a

drunken knave--but as thou holdest thy life dear, have a care that

henceforth we hear no such tales of thee; for rest assured that if aught

of the kind do reach our ears, we will requite thee for both turns."

Which said, they departed. Arriguccio, standing there like one dazed, not

witting whether his late doings were actual fact or but a dream, made no

more words about the matter, but left his wife in peace. Thus did she by

her address not only escape imminent peril, but open a way whereby in

time to come she was able to gratify her passion to the full without any

farther fear of her husband.

The Decameron, Volume II · 第 41 / 76 题