NOVEL IV.

--

The rector of Fiesole loves a widow lady, by whom he is not loved, and

thinking to lie with her, lies with her maid, with whom the lady's

brothers cause him to be found by his Bishop.

--

Elisa being come to the end of her story, which in the telling had

yielded no small delight to all the company, the queen, turning to

Emilia, signified her will, that her story should ensue at once upon that

of Elisa. And thus with alacrity Emilia began:--Noble ladies, how we are

teased and tormented by these priests and friars, and indeed by clergy of

all sorts, I mind me to have been set forth in more than one of the

stories that have been told; but as 'twere not possible to say so much

thereof but that more would yet remain to say, I purpose to supplement

them with the story of a rector, who, in defiance of all the world, was

bent upon having the favour of a gentlewoman, whether she would or no.

Which gentlewoman, being discreet above a little, treated him as he

deserved.

Fiesole, whose hill is here within sight, is, as each of you knows, a

city of immense antiquity, and was aforetime great, though now 'tis

fallen into complete decay; which notwithstanding, it always was, and

still is the see of a bishop. Now there was once a gentlewoman, Monna

Piccarda by name, a widow, that had an estate at Fiesole, hard by the

cathedral, on which, for that she was not in the easiest circumstances,

she lived most part of the year, and with her her two brothers, very

worthy and courteous young men, both of them. And the lady being wont

frequently to resort to the cathedral, and being still quite young and

fair and debonair withal, it so befell that the rector grew in the last

degree enamoured of her, and waxed at length so bold, that he himself

avowed his passion to the lady, praying her to entertain his love, and

requite it in like measure. The rector was advanced in years, but

otherwise the veriest springald, being bold and of a high spirit, of a

boundless conceit of himself, and of mien and manners most affected and

in the worst taste, and withal so tiresome and insufferable that he was

on bad terms with everybody, and, if with one person more than another,

with this lady, who not only cared not a jot for him, but had liefer have

had a headache than his company. Wherefore the lady discreetly made

answer:--"I may well prize your love, Sir, and love you I should and will

right gladly; but such love as yours and mine may never admit of aught

that is not honourable. You are my spiritual father and a priest, and now

verging towards old age, circumstances which should ensure your honour

and chastity; and I, on my part, am no longer a girl, such as these love

affairs might beseem, but a widow, and well you wot how it behoves widows

to be chaste. Wherefore I pray you to have me excused; for, after the

sort you crave, you shall never have my love, nor would I in such sort be

loved by you." With this answer the rector was for the nonce fain to be

content; but he was not the man to be dismayed and routed by a first

repulse; and with his wonted temerity and effrontery he plied her again

and again with letters and ambassages, and also by word of mouth, when he

espied her entering the church. Wherefore the lady finding this

persecution more grievous and harassing than she could well bear, cast

about how she might be quit thereof in such fashion as he deserved,

seeing that he left her no choice; howbeit she would do nought in the

matter until she had conferred with her brothers. She therefore told them

how the rector pursued her, and how she meant to foil him; and, with

their full concurrence, some few days afterwards she went, as she was

wont, to church. The rector no sooner saw her, than he approached and

accosted her, as he was wont, in a tone of easy familiarity. The lady

greeted him, as he came up, with a glance of gladsome recognition; and

when he had treated her to not a little of his wonted eloquence, she drew

him aside, and heaving a great sigh, said:--"I have oftentimes heard it

said, Sir, that there is no castle so strong, but that, if the siege be

continued day by day, it will sooner or later be taken; which I now

plainly perceive is my own case. For so fairly have you hemmed me in with

this, that, and the other pretty speech or the like blandishments, that

you have constrained me to make nought of my former resolve, and, seeing

that I find such favour with you, to surrender myself unto you." Whereto,

overjoyed, the rector made answer:--"Madam, I am greatly honoured; and,

sooth to say, I marvelled not a little how you should hold out so long,

seeing that I have never had the like experience with any other woman,

insomuch that I have at times said:--'Were women of silver, they would

not be worth a denier, for there is none but would give under the

hammer!' But no more of this: when and where may we come together?"

"Sweet my lord," replied the lady, "for the when, 'tis just as we may

think best, for I have no husband to whom to render account of my nights,

but the where passes my wit to conjecture." "How so?" quoth the rector.

"Why not in your own house?" "Sir," replied the lady, "you know that I

have two brothers, both young men, who day and night bring their comrades

into the house, which is none too large: for which reason it might not be

done there, unless we were minded to make ourselves, as it were, dumb and

blind, uttering never a word, not so much as a monosyllable, and abiding

in the dark: in such sort indeed it might be, because they do not intrude

upon my chamber; but theirs is so near to mine that the very least

whisper could not but be heard." "Nay but, Madam," returned the rector,

"let not this stand in our way for a night or two, until I may bethink me

where else we might be more at our ease." "Be that as you will, Sir,"

quoth the lady, "I do but entreat that the affair be kept close, so that

never a word of it get wind." "Have no fear on that score, Madam,"

replied the priest; "and if so it may be, let us forgather to-night."

"With pleasure," returned the lady; and having appointed him how and when

to come, she left him and went home.

Now the lady had a maid, that was none too young, and had a countenance

the ugliest and most misshapen that ever was seen; for indeed she was

flat-nosed, wry-mouthed, and thick-lipped, with huge, ill-set teeth, eyes

that squinted and were ever bleared, and a complexion betwixt green and

yellow, that shewed as if she had spent the summer not at Fiesole but at

Sinigaglia: besides which she was hip-shot and somewhat halting on the

right side. Her name was Ciuta, but, for that she was such a scurvy bitch

to look upon, she was called by all folk Ciutazza.(1) And being thus

misshapen of body, she was also not without her share of guile. So the

lady called her and said:--"Ciutazza, so thou wilt do me a service

to-night, I will give thee a fine new shift." At the mention of the shift

Ciutazza made answer:--"So you give me a shift, Madam, I will throw

myself into the very fire." "Good," said the lady; "then I would have

thee lie to-night in my bed with a man, whom thou wilt caress; but look

thou say never a word, that my brothers, who, as thou knowest, sleep in

the next room, hear thee not; and afterwards I will give thee the shift."

"Sleep with a man!" quoth Ciutazza: "why, if need be, I will sleep with

six." So in the evening Master Rector came, as he had been bidden; and

the two young men, as the lady had arranged, being in their room, and

making themselves very audible, he stole noiselessly, and in the dark,

into the lady's room, and got him on to the bed, which Ciutazza, well

advised by the lady how to behave, mounted from the other side. Whereupon

Master Rector, thinking to have the lady by his side, took Ciutazza in

his arms, and fell a kissing her, saying never a word the while, and

Ciutazza did the like; and so he enjoyed her, plucking the boon which he

had so long desired.

The rector and Ciutazza thus closeted, the lady charged her brothers to

execute the rest of her plan. They accordingly stole quietly out of their

room, and hied them to the piazza, where Fortune proved propitious beyond

what they had craved of her; for, it being a very hot night, the bishop

had been seeking them, purposing to go home with them, and solace himself

with their society, and quench his thirst. With which desire he

acquainted them, as soon as he espied them coming into the piazza; and so

they escorted him to their house, and there in the cool of their little

courtyard, which was bright with many a lamp, he took, to his no small

comfort, a draught of their good wine. Which done:--"Sir," said the young

men, "since of your great courtesy you have deigned to visit our poor

house, to which we were but now about to invite you, we should be

gratified if you would be pleased to give a look at somewhat, a mere

trifle though it be, which we have here to shew you." The bishop replied

that he would do so with pleasure. Whereupon one of the young men took a

lighted torch and led the way, the bishop and the rest following, to the

chamber where Master Rector lay with Ciutazza.

Now the rector, being in hot haste, had ridden hard, insomuch that he was

already gotten above three miles on his way when they arrived; and so,

being somewhat tired, he was resting, but, hot though the night was, he

still held Ciutazza in his arms. In which posture he was shewn to the

bishop, when, preceded by the young man bearing the light, and followed

by the others, he entered the chamber. And being roused, and observing

the light and the folk that stood about him, Master Rector was mighty

ashamed and affrighted, and popped his head under the clothes. But the

bishop, reprimanding him severely, constrained him to thrust his head out

again, and take a view of his bed-fellow. Thus made aware of the trick

which the lady had played him, the rector was now, both on that score and

by reason of his signal disgrace, the saddest man that ever was; and his

discomfiture was complete, when, having donned his clothes, he was

committed by the bishop's command to close custody and sent to prison,

there to expiate his offence by a rigorous penance.

The bishop was then fain to know how it had come about that he had

forgathered there with Ciutazza. Whereupon the young men related the

whole story; which ended, the bishop commended both the lady and the

young men not a little, for that they had taken condign vengeance upon

him without imbruing their hands in the blood of a priest. The bishop

caused him to bewail his transgression forty days; but what with his

love, and the scornful requital which it had received, he bewailed it

more than forty and nine days, not to mention that for a great while he

could not shew himself in the street but the boys would point the finger

at him and say:--"There goes he that lay with Ciutazza." Which was such

an affliction to him that he was like to go mad. On this wise the worthy

lady rid herself of the rector's vexatious importunity, and Ciutazza had

a jolly night and earned her shift.

(1) An augmentative form, with a suggestion of cagnazza, bitch-like.

The Decameron, Volume II · 第 47 / 76 题